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VOLUME XXII
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1902
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SANTA BARBARA
Encyclopaedia Britannica.
Vol. XXII. — (siB-szo).
Total number of Articles, 575.
PRINCIPAL CONTENTS.
SIBERIA. P. A. Kkopotkine.
SICILY. Prof. E. A. Freem.^.v. D.C.L., LL.D.,
and George G. Chlsholm, M.A., B.Sc.
SIENA. Prof. Ces.\re Paoli, Florence.
SIGNALS, NAVAL. Capt. C. A.G. Bridge, R.N.
SILIMAN. Prof. Wright, Yale College.
SILK. J.\MES Paton, Curator, Galleries of Art,
Glasgow.
SILURID^. Albert Gitnther, M.D., Ph.D.,
F.R.S.
SILVER. Prof. W. Dittmar, LL.D., F.R.S., and
Alex. Del Mar.
SIMONY. Jame.s Williams, B.C.L., Barrister-
at-Lavv.
SINAI. Prof. Albrecht Socin, L^niversity of
Tubingen.
SIND. Sir Frederick J. Goldsmid, K.C.S.I.,C.B.
SKELETON. St. George Mivart, M.D., F.R.S.
SKIN DISEASES. J. O. Affleck, M.D.
SLATE. Donald Campbell, M.D., F.S.A.
SLAVERY. J. K. Ingram, LL.D.
SLAVS. W. R. MoBFiLL, M.A.
SLEEP. Prof. J. G. M'Kendrick, M.D., F.R.S.
SMALLPOX. J. O. Affleck, M.D.
SMELL. Prof. M'Kendrick.
SMITH, ADAM. J. K. Ingram, LL.D.
SMITH, JOHN. Prof. Edward Arber.
SMITH, SYDNEY. Prof. Minto.
SMOKE ABATEMENT. Prof. Orme Mabson,
M.A.
SMOLLETT. Prof. Minto.
SNAKES. Albert GtiNTHER, M.D.
SOAP. Prof. Dittmar and James Paton.
SOCIALISM. Thomas Kirkup, M.A.
SOCIETIES. H. R. Tedder, F.S.A.
SOCINUS. Rev. Alex. Gordon, M.A.
SOCRATES. Henry Jackson, Litt. D.
SOLOMON ISLANDS. Baron Anatole von
HUGEL.
SONNET. Theodore Watts.
SOPHISTS. Henuv Jackson, Litt.D.
SOPHOCLES. Prof. Lewis Campbell, LL.D.
SOUDAN. Prof. Keane.
SOUTH AUSTRALIA. James Bonwick.
SOUTH CAROLINA. W. SiMoNs,Charleston, S.C.
SPAIN—
G. G. Chisholm, B.Sc, Rev. W. J. Bkodriijb,
M. A., Richard Lodge, M.A., and Alfred
Morel-Fatio.
SPARTA. Rev. W. J. Brodribb.
SPECTACLES. Alex. Bri ce, M.A., M.D.
SPECTROSCOPY. Arthur Schuster, Ph.D.,
F.R.S.
SPEECH SOUNDS. A. J. Ellis, B.A., F.R.S.
SPENSER. Prof. Minto.
SPINOZA. Prof. Anduew Seth, M.A.
SPIRITUALISM. Mrs, Henry Sidgwick. •
SPOHR. W. S. Rockstro, Author of "General
History of Music."
SPONGES. W. J. Soi.i.as, LL.D., Professor of
Geology and Mineralogy, University of
Dul)lin.
SQUARING THE CIRCLE. Thomas MriR, LL.D.
STAEL. (lEo. Saintsbury, M.A., Author of
" Short History of French Literature."
STAMMERING. Prof. M'Kendrick.
STANLEY. Very Rev. G. Granville Bradley,
D.D., Dean of Westminster.
STATISTICS. Wynnard Hooper, M. A.
STEAM-ENGINE. J. A. Ewing, F.R.S., Professor
of Engineering, University College, Dundee.
STEREOSCOPE. Prof. M'Kendrick.
STERNE. Prof. Minto.
STEVINUS. Prof. Moritz Cantor, Ph.D., Hei-
delberg.
STIGMATIZATION. Alex. Macalister, M.D.,
F.R.S., Professor of Anatomy, University of
Cambridge.
STOCK EXCHANGE. W. P. Harper.
STOICS. R. Drew Hicks, M.A., Fellow and
Lecturer, Trinity College, Cambridge.
STOMACH, DISEASES OF. J. O. Affleck, M.D
STRABO. Wm, Ridgeway, M,A„ Professor of
Greek, Queen's College, Cork.
STRAFFORD. Prof. S. Rawson Gardiner,
LL.D., Author of " The Great Civil War,"
STRAUSS. Rev. J. F. Smith.
STRENGTH OF MATERIALS. Prof. J. A.
Ewing.
STUARTS. T. F. Henderson.
SUGAR. Prof. Dittmar and J. Paton.
SUICIDE. Wynnard Hooper.
SULLA. Rev. W. J. Brodribb.
SULPHUR. Prof. Dittmar.
SUMATRA. H. a. Webster.
SUMMARY JURISDICTION. James Williams.
SUMPTUARY LAWS. J. K. Ingram, LL.D.
SUN. J. Norman Lockyer, F.R.S., Author of
" Chemistry of the Sun."
SUNDAY. James Williams.
SUNNITES AND SHI'ITES. The late Wilhklm
Spitta-Bey and Prof. A. MBller, University
of Konigsberg.
SUNSTROKE. J, O. Affleck, M.D.
SURFACE. Arthur Caylky, D.C.L., LL.D.,
F.R.S., Sadlerian Professor of Pure Mathe-
matics, University of Cninbridge.
RUR(tERY. Prof. John Chiene, M.D. ; Charles
Creighton, M.A., M.D. ; F. M, Caird, M.D.,
CM.; and Arthur W. Hare, M.D.
SURVEYING. General J. T. Walker, R,E.,
C.B., LL. D.
SWAN. Prof. A. Newton,
SWEDEN — (Geography and Statistics.) Profs.
H. H. Hii.DEBRANDSSoN, P. T. Clkve, aiul F.
Kjellman, Upsala, and Dr. A. Wiren and J.
F. NYsTRiiM, Upsala. (History.) James
SiME, M.A. (Literature.) K. W. Gosse.
SWEDENBOKG, Rev, J. F, Smith.
SWIFT. Richard Gahnett, LL.D,
SWIMMING. IL F. Wilkinson and Wm.Wilson.
SWINE. Prof. W. H. Flower.
SWITZERLAND. Rev. W. A. B. Coolidqe,
M.A., H. A. Webster, and James Simk.
SWORD. Prof. Frederick Pollock, LL.D.
SYDENHAM. Ciiarlk.s (h!EioHTON,M.D.
SYDNEY. Andrew (iauran, Sydney.
SYRACUSE. Rev. W. J. liuoDRinB, G. G. Chis-
holm.
SYRIA. Prof. A. Socin.
SYRIAC LITERATURE. Wm. Wright, 1,1.1).,
professor of Arabic, University of Cam-
bridge.
ENCYCLOPEDIA BKITANNICA.
SIB-SIB
SIBBALD, Sir Robert (1641-1712), may be considered
as the most eminent representative of science and
medicine in Scotland towards the close of the 17th century.
He was born near Leslie in Fifeshire in 1641. Educated
at Edinburgh, Leyden, and Paris, he settled as a physician
in Edinburgh and soon rose to eminence. His career is
one of marked initiative : he was the first professor of
medicine in the university of Edinburgh, and the first
president of the college of physicians, and, along with Sir
Andrew Balfour, founded the botanic garden. He was
also geographer- royal, and his numerous and miscellan-
eous writings" deal effectively with historical and anti-
quarian as well as botanical and medical subjects. He
died in 1712.
Amongst Sibbald's historical and antiquarian works may be men-
tioned A History of Fife and A''!htoss{ Edinburgh, 1710, and Cupar,
1803), which is still indispensable to the student of local history
and antiquities ; An Account of the Scottish Atlas (folio, Edinburgh,
1683); Vindicim Scoticx ///liA^i'a/a; (folio, Edinburgh, 1710) ; and
Description of the Isles of Orkney and Shetland (folio, Edinburgh,
1711 and 1845). See also his Autobiography (Edinburgh, 1833),
to which is prefi.xed an account of his MSS.
SIBERIA (Ru.ss. SUnr, a word of unknown origin,
probably Permian) in the 16th century indicated the chief
settlement of the Tatar khan Kutchum, — Isker on the
Irtish. Subsequently the name was extended so as to
include the whole of the gradually increasing Russian
dominions in Asia, and in the first half of the I'Jth century
it was applied to the immense region stretching from the
Ural Mountains to the Pacific, and from the Arctic Ocean
to the Chinese frontier and the Kirghiz steppes. This
region, however varied in its separate parts, constituted a
geographical whole having its own characteristic physical
features. The division into Western and Eastern Siberia
which naturally came into general use had also a geogra-
phical meaning. In 1856, after the annexation of the
Amur and Usuri regions, Eastern Siberia was extended
so as to include the Russian dominions on the Pacific,
although these latter in reality belong climatically and
physically to a q\iite separate region, — that of the North
Pacific littoral ; and, as the Russian dominions extended
into the Kirghiz steppes, these last were also reckoned to
Siberia, although mostly belonging in their physical
features to another geographical domain, — the Aral-Cas-
pian depression. Later on these steppes were transferred
22-1
to the "Orenburg region," or to the "steppe region ">
but, on the other hand, some districts which really belong
to Western Siberia were included under this new denomi-
nation. What is now called " Siberia " has thus lost its
geographical unity. There still remains, however, for the
geographer a vast tract of northern Asia which 'might be
included under this general name, as representing some
special features characteristic of the region. It would be
limited by the Ural Mountains on the west, by the Arctic
and North Pacific Oceans on the north and east respect-
ively, and on the south by a line broadly corresponding
to the 50th degree of latitude, running from the sources
of the river Ural to the Tarbagatai range (thus separating
the steppes of the Iriish basin from those of the Aral and
Balkash basins), thence along the Chinese frontier as far
as the south-east corner of Transbaikalia, whence it might
be drawn to the Great Khingan, and along it to the upper
Zeya (tributary of the Amur) and Udskoi Ostrog on the
Sea of Okhotsk. This wide area would be naturally
subdivided into Western Siberia (basins of the Ob and
Irtish) and Eastern Siberia (the remainder of the region).
Western Siberia would include the governments of Tobolsk
and Tomsk, as well as the pasts of Perm situated to the east
of the Ural Mountains, and those northern parts of Semi-
palatinsk which belong to the basins of the Irtish and the
ToboP; while Eastern Siberia would include the govern-
ments of Yeniseisk and Irkutsk, the provinces of Yakutsk
and Tran.sbaikalia, together with the north-western part
of the province of Amur and the northern parts of the
Maritime Province. In fact, the north-western parts of
Mancliuria situated between the Argiui and the Great
Khingan, as well as the upper parts of the Selenga and
the Yenisei (Shi.shkit) belonging to Mongolia, are so in-
timately connected with I'^astern Siberia as regards their
physical features that it is difficult for the geographer to
separate them.
Since the inclusion of Ural.sk, Turgai, Akniolinsk, and
Semipalatinsk within the governor-generalship of the
steppes, the present administrative subdivisions stand a^
follows : —
' Tills natural subdivision has been adopted by P. SemonolTin Iiis
valuable sketcli of Western Siberia in Piclure3<fM Ruuia (JivopisoiyB.
Rossiya), vol. x't.
SIBERIA
Oro-
graphy.
Area
Square Miles.
Population. s/;,P-r^,lJ
Tobolsk
531,982
329,039
1,283,168
1,134,748
2-4 i
3-4 ]
Tomsk
Westera Siberia^
861,021
2,417,916 1 2-8
Yeniseisk
992,870
309,190
1,517,127
240,781
3,059,968
421,010
398,873
243,443
497,760
•42
1-2
•16
2-1
Yakutsk
Transbaikalia
1,561,086 1 -51
173,559
730,022
40,533 -23
Maritime Province
74,000 -10
Amur 1
903,5S1
114,533 1 -12
Total
4,824,570
4,093,535 1 -85
It is evident that a territory so immense — covering more
than 25 degrees of latitude and 120 degrees of longitude —
must include a great variety of orographical and climato-
logical characters, and that the popular conception which
persists in representing Siberia as a snow-clad desert is
erroneous. In fact — not to speak of the rich prairies of the
middle Amur and tbg Usuri region, where the wild vine
grows freely — we f:,: ' in Siberia proper the very fertile
black earth prairie steppes, or rather pampas, of the Tobol
and Ishim,— not mere patches of fertile land, but plains
covering some 25,000,000 acres and ready to receive
millions of inhabitants ; the highlands of the- Altai, with
their rich valleys, alpine lakes, glaciers, and snow-clad peaks,
- — a country three times as large as Switzerland and pre-
senting almost the same variety of aspects; the high plains
of Eastern Siberia, where water-melons are grown in the
fields during the short but hot summer ; the rich steppes
of Minusinsk, profusely adorned with flowers ; the lower
plateaus of Transbaikalia, embellished with the beautiful
Daurian flora and supplying food to hundreds of thousands
of cattle ; the high inhospitable marshy plateaus of the
Selenga and Yitim ; vast hilly tracts densely covered
with forests, and visited only by hunters and gold-diggers ;
and beyond these the frozen tundras of the north, — all these
constitute an immense world, with the most striking con-
trasts of scenery and vegetation, of manners and customs.
In one direction only is the popular conception true :
throughout its extension Siberia is the coldest country of
the world in consequence of its protracted and exceedingly
severe winter. This variety of characters will be best under-
stood from the following brief sketch of the orography.
The leading features of the orograpliy of Siberia are so much at
variance in our best maps that a few words are necessary to ex-
plain the views taken in what follows. The inhabited districts
are well laid down ; but the immense areas between and beyond
these have only been visited by geographers and are mapped only
along a few routes hundreds of miles apart. The intermediate
spaces are filled according to information derived from native
hunters. With regard to a great many rivers we know only the
position of their mouths and their approximate lengths estimated.
by natives in terms of a day's march. Even the hydrojraphical
network is very imperfectly known, especially in the uninhabited
hilly tracts.^ The orographical representation of Siberia is no-
thing more than a combination of a few surveys and journeys, in
tehich conscious or unconscious hypothesis is resor'ed to in order
to connect the isolated facts. As soon as the river systems of
Siberia began to be approximately known, chains of mountains
were drawn in all hilly tracts, — higher ones on the chief watersheds
ant! lower ones along the secondary ones. This representation
conveyed quite a false idea as to the surface configuration of Siberia.
The immense plateaus which play so predominant a part in the
' Governor-generalships.
' The wide area between the middle Lena and the Amur, as well as
the hilly tracts west of Lake Baikal, the Yeniseisk mining region, and
many others, are in this condition. An instance of a map distinguish-
ing between surveys and information derived from natives is given on
a cartoon of map 4 of Mem. Russ. Geo'jr. Soc, General Geograpliy,
vol iii
structure of Asia (as they also do in the western parts of Nor411
America) were quite overlooked. Chains of mountains were drawii
as if they rose in the midst of plains, where in reality we have
eitlier the slopes of one side of the plateaus or border-chains. Lofty
mountains appeared where none exist, as, for instance, in those
parts of Yakutsk where tributaries of the Lena and the Amur start
from common maishes ; and some of the highest chains were re-
presented as minor upheavals because they are pierced by rivers
d;escending from the high piateaus to the lowlands. It was only
by making use of rich unpublished collections of barometrical
observations for the calculation of hundreds of heiglits that many
sections of Siberia could be drawn,' and by going into a minute
study of topographical materials scattered through the bulky
literature of Siberia and certain MS. field-books — the whole con-
trolled by personal journeys — that it became possible to arrive at
the following general conclusions as to the structure of the country,
which may be of service until more complete surveys shall have
given more reliable data.' This study has shown how predomi-
nant has been the part played in the formation of Siberia by huge
swellings of the earth's crust (plateaus), and how subordinate that
played by isolated chains of mountains, which latter are regulated
in their direction in north-eastern Asia by the border ridges of the
plateaus; and it has enabled us to make out a close connexion be-
tween the structure of Central Asia and Tibet and that of north-
eastern Asia, and to establish a link between the two.
A vast plateau, beginning in the south at the foot of the giganii- Gi
semiciicular border range of the Himalayas, and having the lofti P'l
plateau of Pamir in the west and the little-known high tracts ot
the upper Hoang-ho and Yang-tso-kiang in the east, extends
towards the north-eastern extremity of Asia. Broadly speaking,
it has the shape of a South America pointed towards Behring
Strait. It attains a width of no less than 1800 miles and an
altitude of from 11,000 to 14,000 feet in the south ; but both
width and altitude diminish towards the north-east. In north-
west Mongolia the average height is but 4000 to 5000 feet, and
this diminishes to 3500 feet in the Vitim plateau j while its width
is not more than 700 miles in the latitude of Lake Baikal. On the
50th parallel of latitude there occurs in the plateau a broad lateral
indentation, occup' 1 by Lake Baikal and the plains of Kansk,
and this renders resemblance of the plateau to South America
still more striking. This immense plateau is the remainder of a
vast and very old continent, which, so far as we know, has not
been submerged since at least the Devonian period." It extends
from the Himalayas to the land of the Tchuktchis, but does not of
course present a plane surface of the same altitude in all its parts.
It is diversified in the following ways. (1) Like other plateaus, it
has on its surface a number of gentle eminences (angeltaiiftc Gcbirge
of Ritter), which, although reaching great absolute heiglits, are
relatively low. These cliains for the most part follow a north-
easterly direction in Siberia ; but in the southern parts of the
plateau, as we approach the Himalayas, they seem to assume a
direction at right angles (towards the north-west). (2) On the
outskirts of the plateau there are several excavations which can
best be likened to gigantic trenches, like railway cuttings when
with an insensible gradient a higher level lias to be reached.
These trenches for successive geological periods have been the
drainage valleys of immense lakes (probably also of glaciers) which
formerly spread over the plateau, or fiords of the seas which sur-
rounded it Now the chief commercial routes have been made to
follow these trenches to reach the higher level of the platean.
Their steep excavated sides, which have the api)earance of chains of
mountains to the traveller who follows the bottom of the trench,
have often been described as such ; in reality they are merely uni-
lateral slopes, which may best be compared with tlie steep slope of
the Jura turned towards tlie Lake of Geneva. AVe have examples of
such trenches in the valley of the Uda to the east of Lake Baikal
(route to the Amur) ; in the valley of the Orklion, leading to
Urga and Jlongolia (route to Peking), with a branch np the
Djida ; in the broad depression of the Ulungur leading from Lake
Zaisan to Barkul ; and in a few others which have been utilized as
' A c.at.alogue of heights in E.ast Siberia is given in the appeudijc
to the present wTiter's " Rejiort on the Olekma and Vitim Expedition "
{Mem. Russ. Geoyr. Soc, General Geography, vol. iii., 1873); also in
Petermann's Milth., 1872. The height of Irkutsk, taken as a basis
for the catalogue, has beeu determined since that date by a levelling
through Siberia at 14S6 feet.
* " General Sketch of tlie Orography of Siberia," with map and
sections, and "Sketch of the Orograph/of Mhuisinsk, &c.," by the
same writer (same series, vol. v., 1875). Tlie views taken In these
writinss have been embodied by A. Petermann in his map of Asia,
sheet 53 of Stieler's Jlayid- Atlas.
' The gre.it plateau of North America, also turning its narrower
point towards JBchring Strait, naturally suggests the idea that there
was a period in the history of our planet when the continents tnme<l
their narrow extremities towards the northern pole, .is now tUev turn
them towards the southern.
SIBE BIA
\
s
r
SIB E R I A
routes from tbe Lena to the Sea of Okliotsk. (3) There are, moreover,
.two terraces lu tlie j.lateau,— a higher and a lower, which are very
well in-onoiuicea in Thansbaikalia (q.v.) and in Mongolia. The
Yablonovoi range and its south-western continuation the Kentei
are border -ridges of the ujipcr terrace. Both rise very gently
above It, but have steep slopes towards the lower teirace, which is
occupied by the Nertchinsk steppes in Transbaikalia and by the
oobi m Mongolia (2000 to 2500 feet above the sea). They rise to
from 5000 to 7000 feet above the sea ; the peak of Sokhondo in
Transbaikalia reaches nearly 8500 feet. Several low chains of
mountains have their base on the lower terrace and run from
south-west to north-east; they are known as the Nertchinsk
llountains in Transbaikalia, and their continuations reach the
northern parts of the Gobi.'
The great plateau is fringed on the north-west by a series of hi^^h
border-rulges, which have their southern base on'the plateau and
tlieir nortliern at a much lower level. Thev may be traced from
the Thian-.Shan to the arctic circle, and have "an east-north-easterly
direction in lower latitudes and a nortli-easterly direction farther
north. Both the Alai ridge of the Pamir, continued by the Kokshal-
tau range and the Klian-Tengri group of the Thian-Shan, and the
bailiighein range of the Altai (see Tomsk), which is continued, in the
opinion of the present writer, in the yet unnamed border-ridge of
A\ est Sayan (between the Bei-khem and the Us}," belong to this cate-
gory. 1 here are, however, in these border-ridges several breaches of
continuity,— broad depressions or trenches leading from Lake Bal-
kash and Lake Zaisan to the upper partsof the plateau. On the other
hand.there are on the western outskirts of the plateau a few mountain
cliains which take a direction at right angles to the above (that is
froii the north-west to the south-east), and parallel to the great
line of upheavals in south-west Asia. The Tarb.igatai Mountains,
on the borders of Siberia, as well as several chains in Turkestan
are instances of these upheavals. But, notwithstanding these com-
plications. It remains certain that the Alai Mountains; the Khan-
lengri group, the Sailughem range, and the West Sayan are border-
ndges of the high plateau fringing it from 70° to 100° E. Ion-.
These border-ndges contain the highest peaks of their respective
regions ; they are immense walls which render access to the hi^-h
plateau extremely difiicnlt, unless the traveller follows the above-
mentioned trenches. Beyond 100° E. long, the above structure is
complicated by the great lateral indentation of Lake Baikal. But
around and beyond this lake we again find the same huge bordcr-
ndge flinging the plateau and turning its steep nortli- western
trt}^^V\ the valleys of the Irkut, the Barguzin, the Muya,
and the Ichara while its southern base lies on the plateaus of the
Selenga nearly 4000 feet high) and the Vitim (.see ThansbaikaLa)!
Ite peaks of the Sailughem range reach from 9000 to 11 000 feet
nbove the sea, those of West Sayan about 10.000. In East Sayan
IS Munku-Sai-dj-lc, a peak 10,000 feet high, together with many
0 S ™,?,ifT ?, ^°°° ^f '• F^.''"'^-- ^••'^t. on ?'>e southern "hore
Soif t I^^V'^1. '^'''-""'"■-Jaban rises to 6900 feet, and the hu-e
dome-shaped, bald summits of the Barguzin and Southern Muva
Mountams attain an elevation of 6000 to 7000 feet above the sea
mt t,.,.3,l' "'"r^:^'^ °^ 'I'" ^'''^" ^'^e'"" i'* but little known ;
but tiavellcrs who journey from the Aldan (tributary of the Lena)
Xtnl i"' •?'■ \° *" ^'■'', °f 0'^''°*^'' ^^^^ to "0^= the same
and barely attaining an average altitude of 3200 feet. Whether it
rw^^nlV''th ''"" ","? $' 'i""^, o"" ">•= 'T^l'^J'tchis remains unsUled
although the probability is that it does '•'■i.".",
A tj'i.ical feature of the north-eastern border of the hi"li plateau
_I .3 a succession of broad longitudinal ' valleys alon'. its ouer base
'. shut in on the outer side by walls of wild mountai,^ havhig a ve.y
Bteep slope towarcts tlK-ra. Formerly tilled with alpine lakfs these
valleys have now a flat alluvial soil occupied by human settlements
«nd are watered by rivers which flow along them before thy make
their way to the north tlirough narrow gorges plerced'^nUie
rUmh, ^ 'm ^''^n"' '". "'"t of the upper Oka and Irkut in
East Say.'in, in the valley of the Barguzin, the upper Tsiin the
Muva and the Tchara. at the foot o? tho'vitini p a tean a 'ako
^ese vlilivs t ^^''"'• .7'" ^''t'f "' '""•"'t'"- which frige
Sbori. nV ''" "o?t'V"'i^t belong-to the wildest parts of
ii .1 I^''^"'' named the Usinsk Mountains in West Savai
l":'airatl"i'l' Usk^''" 'm ^=-'8;^"": the latter, ^erced by 't ho
Ai.^aia at Iikutsk, in all probability arc continued north-eastwards
i" .omo rte,,,Ts,io,V to,,^,; VS ^''°' " '""^ ^ "'"' " ^"^'^ of eoatluulty
« lliVwof,?"?'!'' >' SKctcl, or Mlunslnsk. Ac," utsvpra.
»nso JlcB itEk h, I'i'Tn ',' '•"'"' .",'<-='l'" »n nroira .hical not a gcoloRlenl
in, tl, Q * • T^'"'- "■^";'' '■'^" ^'°"' Irkutsk to Olkhon Island
and the Svyatoi Nos peninsula of Lake Baikal, thus dividing the
lake into two parts, the great and the little." The Bar^zin
.Mountains (on the riglit bank of the Barguzin river) ani tl^
Northern Muya range continue them farther to the north-east, and
most probably they are prolonged still farther on the left bank of
the Aldan.
A strip of alpine region 100 to 150 miles in breadth, fnnges the
north-western border of the plateau beyond the ridges just men-
loned. This constitutes wtat is called in Eastern Siberia tbe
i'"^" \l\^°"^^^^ °^ separate chains of mountains whose peaks rise
rom 4800 to 6500 feet above the sea, beyond the upper'^lfm ts d
Jorest vegetation (the gollsy); while the narrow valleys afford diffi-
cu means of communication, their floors being tliickly covei^
with boulders or else swampy; the whole is clothed w'ith thick
unpenetinible forests. The orography of this alpine region is very
imperfectly knowii ; but the chains have a preJominnut directioi
from south-west to^iorth-east. They are described under different
names in Siberia :-the Altai Mountains (see Tomsk) in Westeni
Siberia, w-liich also belong to tliis category, the Kuznetskiy ^..taa
and the Us and Oya Mountains in West Sayan (see Yeniseisk),
he Nijne-Udinsk laigaov gold-mine district, several chains pierced
by the Oka river, the Kitoi Alps in East Sayan, the mountains of
the upper Lena and kirenga, the Olekminsk gold-mine district
and the yet unnamed mountains which protrude north-east between
tlie Lena and the Aldan.
A broad belt of elevated plains, ranging between 1200 and 1700 Eievateo
feet above the sea, extends beyond these alpine regions. These plains
plains, which are entered by the great Siberian highway about '
lomsk" and extend farther in a south-westerly direction, fringin-
the Altai Mountains, are the true abodes of Russian colonizei-s^
they are fertile for the most part, although sometimes dry, and aie
rapidly being covered with Russian villages. About Kansk in
liastern Siberia they penetrate in the form of a broad gulf south-
eastwards as far as Irkutsk. Those on the upper Lena, having a
somewhat greater altitude and being situated in higher latitudes
are almost wholly unfitted for agriculture. The north -western
border of these elevated plains cannot yet be determined with
exactitude. In the region between Viluisk (on the Vilui) and
\eniseisk a broad belt of alpine tracts, reaching their greatest ele-
vation in the northern Yeniseisk taiga (between the Upper and the
hodkamennaya Tunguzka) and continued to the south-west in lower
upheavals, separates the elevated plains from the lowlands which
extend towards the Arctic Ocean. In Western Siberia these hi"h
plains seem to occupy a narrower area towards Barnaut and Semi-
palatinsk, and it is difficult to say whether they are separated by
an abrupt slope from the Aral-Caspian depression.
Farther to the north-west, beyond these high plains, we find aNnnhem
broad belt of lowlands extending as far as the tjral Mountains loul^S
and the Arctic Ocean. This vast tract, which is now only a few
dozen feet above the sea, and most probably was covered by the sea
during the rost-Pliocene period, stretches from the Aral-Caspian
deiiression to the lowlands of the Tobol, Irtish, and Ob, and thence
towards the lower parts of the Yenisei and the Lena. Only a few
separate mountain ranges, like the Byrranga on the Taim3T penin-
sula, the. Syverma Mountains, the Verkhoyansk and the Khara-
utakh ranges, diversify the monotonous surface of these lowlands
Which are covered with a thick sheet of black earth in the souUi
and assume the character of barren tundras in the north (see
Tobolsk and Ykniseisk).
The south-eastern slope of the great plateau of Asia cannot pro- Soutli-
perly bereckoued to Siberia, although parts of the province of eastern
Amur and the Maritime Province are situated on it ; they have Uoim of
luito a different character, climate, and vegetation, and ought pla;eao.
properly to be reckoned to tho Manchurian region. As. already
said, wo have to the east of the Yablonovoi border-ridge tholower
terrace ot the hi-h plateau, reaching about 2000 to 2500 feet in
I ransbaikalia and extending farther to the soutli-wcst through the
Oobi to Last Turkestan. The south-eastern edge of this lower
terrace is frilled by a massive border-ridge-the Khingan— whicJi
runs in a north-easterly direction from tho Great Wall of China to
the sources of tho Nonni-ula. Tho traveller crossing it from the
west 18 hardly aware of its existence ; but it has a very steep sloiw
towards the cast, and forms a most important boundary for tho
Alantliurian flora, which does not extend over tlie iilateuu. The
northern parts of tho Khingan aro quite unexplored ; the most
nortlier y point that has been visited is tho sources of the G»»
where the [)re*ent writer crossed it on his way to Mcrgeii ; and wo
have no direct data for determining where it is crossed by the
Amur. But, considering tho structure of tho country on tho left
11 All ■*■'""■■. it appears probable that this river cro.s.ws it
below Albazin (between Totbuzina and Kuznet-sova, where it makes
e^l^^tjvindings),^ and tho Zeya whore it is joined by the Gilui,—
,m° IP'tJrf 'T'^P 1"°'', "P *■*■ ^''•' O'"*"^ """•'l "»"" «PP"'- to »» m"!*
up or two longitudinal valleys conncctod togotbcr by tlio piusan betWMO
viKiHui nnci hvyatoi Nos.
« " LcvclUutf of Siberia." lu Ttvestia of tlio Ruaslon Gcojfr. Soc., toL xxL
SIBERIA
tlie upper parts of the Zeya flowing on the plateau, while the Ud
flows at its base ; so that, as shown elsewhere with greater detail,
we must admit the Okhotsk coast-range to be a continuation of the
Great Khiugan. The Stanovoi range was drawn on old maps to
connect the Okhotsk range with the Yablonovoi ; but the journeys
of the great Siberian expedition have shown that m reality no such
range exists —the upper tributaries of the Gilui (tributary of the
Amur) and those of the Konam (basin of the Lena) having their
sources in common marshes on the plateau.
A narrow alpine region (40 to 50 miles), consisting of a series of
short secondary ridges paiallel to the border-ridge, fringes this
latter on its eastern slope. Two such plications may be distinguished,
corresponding on a smaller scale to the belt of alpine tracts fring-
ing the plateau on the north-west. The resemblance is further
maintained by a broad belt of elevated plains, ranging from 1200
to 1700 feet, which follow the eastern border of the plateau. The
eastern Gobi, the occasionally fertile and occasionally sandy plains
between the Nonni and the Sungari, and the rich plains of the
Jureya and Selimja in the Amur province belong to this belt,
400 miles in breadth, the surface of which is diversified by the low
hills of the Ilkhuri-alin, the Khuhin, and the Turan. -These high
plains are bordered on the south-east by a picturesaue chain of
mountains (the Amur gorge of which has been often described), —
the Bureya Mountains (also Little Khingan). It extends, with
unaltered character, from lloukden and Ghirin (Kirin) to Ulban
Bay in the Sea of Okhotsk (close by the Shantar Islands), its peaks
covered from top to bottom with a rich forest vegetation rising to
a height of 4500 to 6000 feet. A lowland belt about 200 miles
broad runs in the same direction from south-west to north-east
along the outer border of the above chain. The lower Amur
occupies the northern part of this broad valley. These lowlands
covered with numberless marshes and lakes, seem to have emerged
from the sea at a quite recent geological period ; the rivers that
lazily flow over their surface are still excavating their valleys.
They are shut o£f from the Pacific by an alpine belt as yet but im-
perfectly known, in which at least two separate high chains (the
Fribrezhnyi and the Tatar) can be distinguished,— their continua-
tions probably appearing in Saghalin (q-v-), while Kamchatka
contains several chains, the orography of which is almost quite
unknown.
The geology of Siberia is still but incompletely knovm ; some
detached regions have been explored, while the vast intermediate
spaces remain untouched. Viewed broadly ,= the gi-eat plateau with
the alpine tracts fringing it on the north-west and south-east is
built up of Palajozoic rocks. On the Vitim and Selenga plateaus
immense tracts are composed exclusively of granite, grenatite, and
syenite, with subordinate layers of gneisses, which very often are
mere modifications, more or less stratified, of the granites and
syenites. In some of the ridges that run over the sui-face of the
plateau we find a variety of metamorphic slates, with subordinate
layers of crystalline limestones. Extensive beds of lava occur in
some parts of the plateau, and in the valleys of the rivers layers
of Tertiary sands with petrified wood {Cupressonoxylum aleuticum).
The plateaus of the Vitim and the Selenga are covered with erratic
boulders brought from great distances and show unmistakable
traces of glaciation ; and immense lakes— small in comparison with
their former size— and extensive marshes cover large areas. Besides
older metamorphic slates and granites, Siluriau and most probably
Devonian rocks are widely spread on the lower plateau and in the
low chains of mountains which rise above its surface. Silver, lead,
gold, and iron are found in these mountains, as also precious stones.
Jurassic deposits, yielding many species of fossil insects and plants,
occupy several large depressions. Tbey are all of fresh-water origin
and vfkxe deposited in great lakes. Like the Jurassic beds of China
and Turkestan, they contain layers of coal. The alpine tracts in
the north-west of the plateau are built up of granites, syenites,
gneisses, and chiefly of metamorphic slates, the age of which cannot
yet be precisely ascertained (Laurentian, and possibly also Silurian,
or even Devonian). Talc schists, and especially clay slates, botli
intersected with veins of quartz, have also a very great development
here. The alluvial and glacial deposits of the valleys contain a
rich percentage of gold, derived from the trituration of the cky
slates and their quartz veins. Conglomerates, belonging probaWy
to the Tertiary period, fill several valleys. Unmistakable traces
of glaciers have been found in West and East Sayan, as also in the
Olekma and Vitim regions. In the Altai the mountains are built
np of granites, syenites, and diorites covered with metamorphic
slates belonging to the Laurentian, Siluriun, Devonian, and Car-
boniferous periods. The Jurassic strata on the outskirts are all
fresh-water deposits and contain coal, as in Eastern Siberia and
China. The Ala-tau are of more modern origin, containing ex-
tensive Jurassic beds, no longer deposited in depressions,but entering
into the structure of the hills. The elevated plains of Western
and Eastern Siberia have a more varied structure. On the Lena
1 " Orographical Sketch of East Siberia," vt supra.
3 For further details, see the descriptions of the dllrer«iit preTincw! of
■iberljL
and the Yenisei we find Silurian, Devonian, Carboniferous, and
Triassic marine deposits, covered here and there with fresh-water
Jurassic. Immense tracts on the upper Lena are covered with
horizontal sheets of red sandstone, the age of which is not yet
determined, but seems to be Devonian ; while in the government of
Irkutsk large areas are covered with Jurassic coal-beai-ing sand-
stones. The same structure is found on the outskirts of the Altai,
the Carboniferous and older slates having depressions covered with
horizontal strata of Jurassic coal-bearing sandstones. The hilly
tracts which rise amidst the Eastern Siberian plains on the Angara
and Yenisei consist also of granites, syenites, and diorites covered
with Palaeozoic rocks up to the Carboniferous, whi'e Jurassic straUi
arc found in the Vilui Mountains. The broad lowlands of Western
Siberia are covered throughout with Post-Pliocene deposits which
conceal the older rocks, — shells from this period having been found
as far south as Omsk (55° N. lat ). The lowlands and plains of
Eastern Siberia exhibit a greater variety of structure, — Carbon-
iferous, Triassic, marine Jurassic, and Chalk deposits being met
with both in the deeper ravines and in the few ridges which appear
beyond 60° N. lat. Extensive layers of fresh-water Tertiary have
been found in depressions of the plateau, in some valleys of the
alpine region, and in the plains and lowlands.
There nas been much discussion as to the extent of the glaciers Q)«
in Siberia during the Glacial period,— the want of polished and UoB.
scratched surfaces like those of Scandinavia having been urged as
proof that they cannot have been considerable. It must neverthe-
less be held that the high plateau was at one time covered with a
vast ice-sheet, and that in the alpine regions of the Altai, Sayan,
Olekma, and Aldan glaciers had a much greater extension than at
present, descending in the valleys to at least a level of 2000 feet
above the sea, and covering the subordinate swellings between the
mountain ranges. Thick layers of Post-Glacial deposits, indicating
a climate somewhat more genial than the present, and containing
numberless remains of extinct mammals, are extensively spread both
in valleys throughout the lowlands and on the islands of the Arctic
Ocean ; while in the tundras of the north well-presei-ved carcases of
the mammoth and rhinoceros are occasionally found in the frozen soil.
Traces of Paleolithic man have not as yet been met with iii
Siberia ; but relics of the Neolithic period are exceedingly numerous.
One may almost say that they have been found wherever they
were looked for, especially on the banks of the numberless lakes
with which Siberia was dotted during the Lacustrine period (see
below).
Volcanic formations, so far as is known, appear chiefly along the vol
north-western border-ridge of the great plateau. Ejections of basaltic cam
lava have been found on the southern slope of this ridge, extend-
ing over wide areas on the plateau itself, on a stretch of more than
600 miles,— namely, in East Sayan about Lake Kossoeol and in
the valley of Tunka (river Irkut), in the vicinity of Selenghinsk,
and widely spread on the Vitim plateau (rivers Vitim and Tsipa).
Extensive layers of trap cover more than 1200 miles along the
Tunguzka ; they appear also in the Noril Mountains on the Yenisei,
whence they extend towards the Arctic Ocean. Basaltic lavas are also
reported to have been found in the Aldan region. On the Pacific
slope extinct volcanoes (mentioned in Chinese annals) have been
found in the Ilkhuri-alin Hills to the east of Mergen.
The mineral wealth of Siberia is considerable. Gold-dust is found iUj
in almost all the alpine regions fringing the great plateau, where
clay slates, talc slates, and dioritic slates, intersected by quartz veins,
make up the bulk of the mountains. The chief gold-mining regions
in these tracts are the Altai, the upper (or Nijne-Udinsk) and the
lower (or Y'eniseisk) taigas, and the Olekma region. Gold is found
on the high plateau in the basin of the upper Vitim, on the lower
plateau in the Nertcbinsk district, and on the upper tribuUnes of
the Amur (especially the Oldoi) and the Zeya, in the north-east con-
tinuation of the Nertchinsk Mountains. It has been discovered
also in the Bureya range, and in its north-east continuation in the
Amgu& region. Auriferous sands, but not very rich, have been dis-
covered in the feeders of Lake Khangka and the Suifun nver, as
also on the smaller islands of the Gulf of Peter the Great. Silver
and lead ores are found in the Altai and the Nertchinsk MounUins,
as well as copper, cinnabar, and tin. Iron-ores are known at several
places on the outskirts of the alpine tracte (as about Irkutsk), as
well as in the Sefenghinsk region and in the Altai. The chief iron-
works of the Urals are situated on the Siberian slope (see Ueal).
Coal occurs in many Jurassic fresh-water basins,— namely, on the
outskirts of the Altai, in south Yeniseisk, about Irkutsk, in the
Nertchinsk district, at many places in the Maritime Province, and
on the island of Saghalin. Beds of exceUent graphite have been
found in the Kitoi Alps (Mount Alibert) and in the Turukhansk
district. Rock-salt occurs in thinner deposits at several places on
the Lena and in T; ansbaikalia, and salt-springs are numerous,—
those of Ust-kut on the Lena and of Usolie near Irkutsk being the
chief. A large number of lakes, especially in Transbaikalia and
in Tomsk, yield salt. Lastly, from the Altai region, as weU as from
the Nertchinsk Mountains, precious stones, such as jasper, malachite,
beryl, dark quartz, and the like, are exported. The EkaterJiburg
-SIBERIA
5
stone -polishing worlcs in the Urals and those of KolyraH in the
Altai are well known,
iven. The orography sketched above explains the great development
of the river-systems of Siberia and the uniformity of their course.
The three chief rivers — the Ob, the Yenisei, and the Lena — take
their rise on the high plateau or in the alpine regions fringing it,
and, after descending from the plateau and piercing the alpine
regions, flow for a few thousands of miles over the high plains
and lowlands before they reach the Arctic Ocean. The three
smaller rivers of north-eastern Siberia — the Yana, Indighirka, and
Kolyma — have the same general character, their courses being,
however, much shorter, as in these latitudes the plateau approaches
the Arctic Ocean. The Amur, the upper tributaries of which rise
in the «astern border-ridge of the high plateau, is similar. The
Shilka and the Arguii, which form it, flow first towards the north-
east, through the bendings of the lower terrace of the great plateau ;
from this the Amur descends, traversing the Great Khingan and
flowing down the terraces of the eastern slope towards the Pacific.
A noteworthy feature of the principal Siberian rivers is that each
is formed by the junction of a pair of gi'eat rivers. Examples are
the Ob and the Irtish, the Yenisei and the Angara (itself a double
river formed by the Angara and the Lower Tunguzka), the Lena
and the Vitim, the Arguii and the Shilka, uniting to form the Amur,
.which in its turn receives a tributary as large as itself, — the Sungari.
Owing to this twofold composition and to the circumstance that,
the alpine regions once crossed, their course lies over the high plains
and lowlands and crosses the few ridges which rise above the plains
(as, for example, the Yenisei below Yeniseisk), instead of following
liter the valleys between them, tlic rivers of Siberia offer immense advan-
B- tages for inland navigation, not only in the line of their main direc-
mica- tion from north to south but also across it, i.e., from west to east.
o. It is this circumstance that has facilitated the rapid invasion of
Siberia by Russian Cossacks and hunters : they followed the courses
of the double rivers in their advance towards the east, and discovered
short portages which permitted them to transfer their boats from
the system of the Ob to that of the Yenisei, and from the latter to
that of the Lena, a tributary of which — the Aldan — brought them
close to the Sea of Okhotsk. At the present day steamers ply from
Tyumen, at the foot of the Urals, to Semipalatinsk on the border of
the Kirghiz steppe and to Tomsk in the very heart of Siberia; And
:he time is not far distant when the Ob and the Yenisei, both tra-
versing the high plains on nearly the same level and separated only
by low hills, will be connected by a canal, thus permitting steamers
to reach Krasnoyarsk and Irkutsk. As the population becomes
denser no difficulty should be found in connecting some of the
navigable tributaries of the Yenisei with one of those of the Lena,
for they flow within a short distance from one another on the high
plain, and Cossack boats have already been transported from the
Yenisei to the Lena. An uninterrupted water communication will
then have been established from Tyumefi to Yakutsk, Aldansk, and
the gold-mines of the Vitim. Owing to the great plateau separating
the Lena from the Amur, no easy water communication can be estab-
lished between the latter and other Siberian rivei-s. The tributaries
of the Amur (the Shilka with its affluent the Ingoda) become navi-
gable only on the lower terrace of the plateau. But the trench of
the Uda to the cast of Lake Baikal offers an easy access for a railway
ip to and across the high plateau ; and at the very foot of its eastern
border-ridge lie Tchita, whence boats are floated down (in spring)
to the Pacific, and Nertchinsk, whence steamers may ply to the
mouth of the Amur, as also up the Sungari to Ghirin and up the
Usuri to Lake Khangka. Unfortunately all the rivers are frozen
for many months every year. Even in lower latitudes (52° to 65°
N.) they are ice-bound from the beginning of November to the
beginning of May ' ; while in 65° N. lat. they are open only for 90
to 120 days, and only for 100 days (the Yenisei) or even 70 days
(the Lena) in 70° N. lat. During the cold winter the smaller
tributaries freeze to the bottom, and about 1st January Lake Baikal
becomes covered with a solid crust of ice capable of bearing files of
^aded sledges.
The chief rivers of Siberia are the following. (1) The Ob (Obi)
is formed by the confluence of the Biya and the Katun (400 miles),
both of which rise in the Altai Mountains ; it flows north-west and
north for 2120 miles, past Barnauf, Tomsk, and Narym, and enters
the great Ob Bay of the Arctic Ocean. Its tributary (2) the Irtish,
which joins it in 60° N. lat., has an even greater length (2520 miles).
It rises in the high nlateau, under the name of Black Irtish (500
miles) ; then, descending from the highlands, it enters Lake Zaisan,
whence it flows north and north-west, past Semipalatinsk, Oinsk,
and Tobolsk, to join the Ob. It receives a great number of tribu-
taries, the chief being the Tobol, the Ishim, and the Tara. Tyumcfi
on the last-named will soon be connected by rail with Perm on the
Kama, and is already the head of a great line of water communica-
tion ; navigation is also open to Lake Zai.ian and for a considerable
distance up the Black Irtish. The chief tributaries of the Ob are the
' » The Lena at Verkliolcnak 1» n«vlg»hlc for 170 d»y«, »t Ytkutsk for 153
rtayii; the Yenisei at Krasnoyarsk for 180 days: sec Itvatia of the Baslcm
Siberian Geographical 8'>ciety, vol. ill. «7.
Anui (160 miles), Tcharj-sh (230), Tom (450), Tchulym (600'), Ket
(240), and Sosva (200),— all for the most part navigable. (3) The
Yenisei rises on the high plateau in north-western Mongolia, where
it is formed by the confluence of two "leat rivers— the Snishkit and
the Bcikhem — and has the name of Ulu-khem. After descending
the high plateau on the Chinese frontier, it flows north and entei-s
the Arctic Ocean in a deep bay situated close by that of the Ob.
The area of its basin is estimated at 1,380,000 square miles. It
receives (4) the Upper Tunguzka or Angara (1100 miles), which,
itself has a basin of 275,000 square miles, (5) the Podkamennaya.
Tunguzka, and (6) the Lower Tunguzka. The Angara, whose tribu-'
taries on the left (Irkut, Oka, and Uda) are each large rivers, flows
from Lake Baikal (40 miles 4bove Irkutsk) and, describing a huge
bend to the north-east, joins the Yenisei a little above Yeniseisk.
(7) The Selenga, which enters Lake Baikal from the east, might be
considered as the real source of the Angara. It is a very large river
and rises on the high Mongolian plateau, entering Siberia about
Kiachta. Its length may be estimated at more than 600 miles;
it receives (8) the Uri (outflow of Lake Kossogol), (9) the Orkhoii,
(10) the Tchikoi (300 miles), (11) the Khilok (300), (12) the Uda
(130), and (13) the Djida (200). Lake Baikal has two other con-
siderable feeders — the Barguzin and the Upper Angara. (14) The
Lena is alsoan immense river, having an estimated length of not
less than 3000 mUes. It rises in the Baikal Mountains, some scores
of miles from the lake, and flows north and east past Kirensk, Olek-
minsk, and Yakutsk. Thence it turns to the north-west and enters
the Arctic Ocean, forming a wide delta. It receives several large
tributaries— (15) the Vitim, which has a greater length (about 1 400
miles) than the Lena above the point of junction, (16) the Oleknia
(about 800), (17) the Aldan (about 1300)— which receives in its turn
(18) the Utchur (350), (19) the Maya, and (20) the Amga— and (21)
the Vilui (about 1300). (22) The Taz (about 750), (23) the Kha-'
tanga(400), (24) the Anabara (670), and (25) the Olenek (1200),'
which enter the Arctic Ocean to the west of the Lena, and (26)
the Yana (1000), (27) the Indighirka (950), and (28) the Kolyma
(1000) to the east of it are also considerable rivers, but small in
comparison with the former. (29) The Anadyr enters the gulf of
the same name in the Sea of Behring. (30) The Okhota (270)
and (31) the Ud (350) are relatively small streams flowing into
the Sea of Okhotsk. Of the rivers flowing to the Pacific the chief
is (32) the Amur, which is navigable for more than 2400 miles
from its entrance into the Tartar Strait (between the mainland
and the island of Saghalin) to Sryeteusk on the Shilka, — boata
being floated from Tchita on the Ingoda. It bears the name Amur
after the confluence of (33) the Shilka and (34) the Arguii (see
Transbaikalia) at Ust-Stryelka, and from this point flows east
and south-east until its junction with i^s great tributary the
Sungari ; thence it flows north-east and north, and finally (for
some 50 miles) east, before entering the Pacific. Its length, taking
the Onon for its source, is about 2700 miles, and its basin is at
least 785,000 square miles in area, but has dinjinished recently,
— the waters of the Dalai -nor no longer reaching the Argun.
It receives a great many large tributaries, — (35) the Zeya, whose
affluent (36) the Selimja is itself a considerable river, (37) the
Bureya, (38) the Kur, (39) the Gorin, and (40) the Im from
the left ; while from the right it receives (41) the Sungari and (42)
the Usuri, whose affluent, the navigable Sungatcha, brings the
Amur into steam communication with Lake Khangka. The rivers
flowing into the Sea of Japan are mostly short, only (43) the Suifuu
being worthy of particular mention.
Numberless lakes occur in both Eastern and 'Western Siberia. I^ke
There are wide areas in the plains of Western Siberia, or on the high
plateau of Eastern Siberia, where the country may be said to be still
passing through the Lacustrine period ; but the total area now under
water bears but a trifling proportion to the immense extent which
the lakes had even at a very recent period, when Neolithic man
already inhabited Siberia. All the valleys and depressions bear
traces of immense Post -Pliocene lakes. Even within historical
times and during the 19th century the desiccation of lakes has gone
on at a very rapid rate.' The chief lake is Lake Baikal, more than
400 miles long, from 20 to 63 broad, and 12,430 square miles in area.
Its surface is 1560 feet above sea-level, and it reaches in its south-
west part a maximum depth of 751 fathoms. Another great lake
Lake Kossogol, on the Mongolian frontier, is 120 miles long and
60 broad, 5000 feet above the sea. The largo Lake of Oron on llio
Vitim has not yet been visited by geoprnphera Vast numbers of
siEiall lakes stud the Vitim and upper Selenga plateaus ; the lower
valley of the latter river contains the Goose Lake (Gusinoyc). in
the basin of the Amur are Lake Khangka (1692 square miles), con-
nected with the Usuri ; Lakes Kada and Kizi, by which the lower
Amur once flowed to the Pacific ; and very many smaller ones on
the left bank of the lower Amur. Numerous lakes and extensive
marshes cover the low plains of Western Siberia ; the Baraba stcnp-
is dott.d with lakes and nonds.-Lako Tchany (1300 '>'\'}"\'Xul
and the innumerable smaller lakes that surround it being but tnllmK
3 See Yadrkilseir, In Itvulia of the Ruaalao Ocogr. So<i, 188i», Ko- 1
(with maps).
SIBERIA
remains of former lacustrino Ijasins ; while at the junction of the
Irtish and Ob impassable marshes extend for many thousands of
siiuare miles. Several alpine lakes, of which the pictures^v^ Telet-
skoye may be specially raeutioned, fill up the depressions of the
valleys of the Altai.
The coast-line of Siberia is very extensive both on the Arctic
Ocean and on the Pacific. The former ocean is ice-bound for at
-Jeast ten months out of twelve ; and, though naTigation along its
{hores has been pmved by Nordenskjbld to be possible, it is ex-
ceedingly doubtful^vhether it can ever become a commercial route
of any importance. The coast-line has few indentations, the chief
'being the double bay of the Ob and the Taz, separated from the
Sea of Kara by an elongated peninsiUa {Samoyede), and from the
bay of the Yenisei by another. The immense peninsula of Taiinyr
— a barren tundra intersected by the wild Byrranga HiUs— projects
in Cape Tcheluskin as far north as 77° 46' N. lat. The bay of the
Yana, east of the delta of the Lena, is a ivide indentation sheltered
on the north by the islands of New Siberia. Tub bays of the
Kolyma, the Tchaun, and Kolutchin are of little importance. The
group of four larger and several smaller islands called New Siberia,
situated off the mouth of the Y'ana, are occasionally visited by a few
hunters, as is also the small group of the Bears' Islands opposite the
mouth of the Kolyma. Kellett's or Wrangel's Land is still quite
nuknoTMi. The Strait of Behring at the north-east extremity of
Siberia and the Sea of Behring between th^ land of the Tchuktchis
fird Alaska, with its great Gulf of Anadyr, are often visited by
seal-hunters, and the Commander Islands off Kamchatka are valu-
able stations for this purs\iit. The Sea of Okhotsk, separated from
the Pacific by the Kurile Archipelago and from the Sea of Japan
by the islands of Saghaliu and Yesso, is notorious as one of the
■worst seas of the world, owing to its dense fogs and its masses of
floating ice. The Shantar Islauds in the bay of the Ud are worthy
of notice only for their geological interest The double bay of
Ghijiga and Penjiusk, as well as that of Taui, would be useful as
harbours were they not frozen seven or eight months every year
and covered with dense fogs in summer. The northern part of
the Sea of Japan, which borders the shores of the TJsuri region, has,
besides the smaller Bays of Olga and Vladimir, the beautiful Gulf
of Peter the Great, on which stands Vladivostok, the chief Russian
Daval station on the Pacific (see Maritime Province). Okhotsk
9nd Ayan on the Sea of Okhotsk, Petropavlovsk on the east shore
of Kamchatka, Nikolaievsk, Konstantinovsk, and Vladivostok on
the Sea of Japan, and Dui and Korsakovo on Saghalin (,q.v.) arc
the only ports of Siberia.
Although Siberia is nearly all included between 50° and 72° N.
lat.,' its climate is extremely severe, even in its southern parts.
This severity arises chiefly from the orographical structure : the
vast plateau of Central Asia prevents the moderating influence of
the sea from being felt. The extensive lowlands which cover more
than one-half of its area, as well as the elevated plains, lie exposed
to the influence of the Arctic Ocean. The warm south-west winds
have to cross the elevated plateau of Persia before reaching the
Aral-Caspian depression, and there they deposit nearly aU their
moisture. And,- if a current of warmer a'r flows from the west over
Siberia (several data, such as meteorological observations on Mount
Alibert and at the Voznesensk mine in the Olekma region render
its existence most probable in Eastern Siberia), it only, makes
its influence felt in the higher parts of the hilly tracts, by raising
the line of perpetual snow in Eastern Siberia to the unusual
height of 10,000 feet,^ and by elevating by a few degrees the tem-
perature of places situated in the alpine regions above the 3000 or
4000 feet level. The air, after being refrigerated on the plateaus
during the winter, drifts, owing i;o its greater density, down upon
the lowlands ; hence in the region of the lower Lena we find an
exceedingly low temperature throughout the winter, and at Ver-
khoyansk, in 67° N. lat., the pole of cold of the eastern hemi-
sphere.' Nevertheless Siberia enjoys a warm summer ; owing to the
dryness of the climate, the unclouded sun fully warms the earth
during the long summer days in those high latitudes, and gives a
short period of warm and even hot days in the immediate neigh-
bourhood of the pole of cold. The Siberian winter may be said to
last from the end of October until March, and it is exceedingly
severe. As early as November mercury freezes in the latitude of
Irkutsk (51° to 52° N. lat.), while in December, January, and even
February it remains frozen for weeks together in south Siberia.
Frosts of - 13° to - 18° Fahr. are not uncommon at Krasnoyarsk,
Irkutsk, and Nertchinsk ; even in the warmer southern regions of
, 1 Only the narrow fringe of the tundras extends beyond 70° N. lat.
» Although rising to heights ranging from 6000 to 10,000 feet, the mountain
peaks of Eastern Siberia do not reach the snow-Kne, which is found only on the
Munka-Sardyk m East Sayan, above 10,000 feet. Patches of perpetual snow
occur in Eastern Siberia only on the mountains of the far north. On the Altai
Mountains the snow-line is about 7000 feet.
' s The average temperature of winter (December to February) at Yakutsk
is -40*'2 Fahr., at Verkhoyansk -53°-l. At the polar meteorological station
of Sagastyr, in the delta of the Lena (73* 23" N. lat.), the foUoiving aterage
temperatures were observed in 1S82 and 1SS3— January - 34°-3 Fahr. (February
- 43*-6), July -lO'S, year 2°-l. The lowest average temperature of a day is - cr'fl
Faille
Western Siberia and of the Amur the average winter temperature is
respectively 2°'4 Fahr. and - 10°'2 ; while at Yakutsk and Verkho-
yansk the thermometer occasionally falls as low as - 75° and - 85°
Fahr. Trees, as observed by Middendorff, become frozen to their
very heart, and the axe, which becomes as fragile as glass, can hardly
make any impression upon them. Rivers are frozen to the bottom,
and water flowing over the ice adds new layers. The soil freezes
many feet deep over immense areas even in southern Siberia. The
atmosphere becomes laden with frozen vapours. Man, however,
successfully resists these rigours, provided he adopts the customary
costume of Siberia (two dresses of fur, the upper of which has the
hair turned outside), and this all the more as the hardest frosts occur
only when an absolute stUlness of the air prevails. More dreaded
than the frosts are the terrible burans or snow-storms, which occur
in early spring and destroy thousands of horses and cattle that
have been grazing in the steppes throughout the winter. Although
there are very heavy falls of snow in the alpine tracts — especially
about Lake Baikal — on the other side, in the steppe regions of the
Altai and Transbaikalia and in the neighbourhood of Krasnoyarsk,
the amount of snow is so small that travellers use wheeled vehicles,
and cattle can find food in the steppe. Spring sets in with re-
markable rapidity and chai-m at the end of April ; but in the
second half of Jlay come the " icy saints' days," so blighting that
it is impossible to cultivate the apple or pear. After this short
period of frost and snow summer comes in its full beauty ; the
days are very hcrt, and, although they are always followed by cold
nights, vegetation advances at an astonishing rate. Corn sown
about Yakutsk in the end of May is ripe in the end of August.
StUl, at many places night irosts set in as early as the second half
of July. They become quite common in August and September.
Nevertheless September is much warmer than May, and Octobri
than April, even in the most continental parts of Siberia. By
the end of October the rivers begin to freeze, and in the first days
of November they are all frozen ; even the Amur becomes a high-
way for sledges, while the Baikal is usually frozen belore the
middle of January. The isotherms are exceedingly interesting.
That of 32° Fahr. crosses Western Siberia in its middle parts and
Eastern Siberia in its southern parts, running through Bogoslovsk,
Tobolsk, a little above Omsk and Tomsk, close by Irkutsk, Tchita,
Nertchinsk, Blagovyeschensk, and Konstantinovsk. The isotherms
of July run as follows. That of 68° Fahr., which in Europe passes
through Cracow and Kaluga, here traverses Omsk, Krasnoyarsk,
and Irkutsk, whence it turns north to Yakutsk, and then south
again to Vladivostok. Even the mouths of the Ob, Yenisei, Lena,
and Kolyma in 70° N. lat. have in July an average temperature of
40° to 50°. Quite contrary is the course of the January isotherms.
That of 14° Fahr., which passes in Europe through Uleiborg,
only touches the southern part of Western Siberia in the Altai
Mountains. That of -4° Fahr., which crosses Nova Zembla in
Europe, passes through Tobolsk, Tomsk, Krasnoyarsk, and Irkutsk,
and touches 45° N. lat. at Urga, turning north in the Amur
region and reaching tlic Pacific at Nikolaievsk. The isotherm of
-22° Fahr., which touches the north point of Nova Zembla,
passes in Siberia through Turukhansk and descends as low as 66°
N. lat. in Transbaikalia, whence it turns north to the Arctic Ocean.
The following figures will give a more completo idea of the
climate : —
Height
Average Temperature in
Yearly
Nebu-
N. lat
above
Sea in
Degrees Fahr.
Rainfall
in
losity,
per-
Feet.
Year.
Jan.
July.
Inches.
cent
UstTansk(rana)
70' 65"
SO
3- -4
- 42'-7
60-D
,,
Verkhoyansk . .
67° 34'
160
2-0
-56'-0
59' -8
..
.r
Turukhansk
65' 65'
70
20'-8
- 16*-1
69*-5
,.
„
Berezoff (Ob)
63' 56'
100
23" 7
- 8'-0
62*-0
' ,^
Yakutsk
62* 2'
520
12*-0
-46" -7
65"-S
" ,t
Okhotsk
69" 21'
10
22°-8
-10'-7
65*-2
,,
Naryin(Ob) ....
58' 55'
200
28°-5
- 8-0
67-1
.,
,.
Voznesensk mine
58- 45'
2800
21--8
-I2*-5
61-9
..
,.
Yeniseisk
68° 27'
260
2S'-0
-12-0
66-0
15-4
65
Tobolsk
6S* 12'
160
3r-9
- 2*-2
66' 7
12-6
69
Tomsk
56* 29'
230
30* 9
- 3°-5
66-3
69
lahini
56' 6'
55* 1'
330
660
31*-9
33* 0
- 4'1
- 3' -6
66-0
67-0
12'6-
59
Krasnoyarsk
Barnaul
53''20'
460
32- -5
- 2*-8
67-5
9-4
64
Nikolaievsk ....
53- 8'
70
o-r'-ty
- S-8
61-8
18-9
.,
Irkutsk
52- 17'
1486
32' 0
- 4-1
65-6
17-3
,,
Nertchinsk mine
51' 19'
2170
25'-3
-21'0
65-1
15*
34
Semipalatinsk ..
50*24'
690
36'-2
- or &
72-5
9-4
• •
Blagovyeschensk
60° Ift'
870
29*-8
-13°-8
69-1
• .
Khabarovka
4S* 28'
250
32°-l
-12"-8
67*-8
,.
tJrga (Mongolia)
47' 56'
S770
27' -2
-12'-7
62-6
10-2
SO
Vladivostok
43' 7'
100
40'-l
4*5
67-3
12-6
42
The flora of Siberia presents very great local varieties, not only
on account of the diversity of physical characteristics through this
wide territory, but also in consequence of the intrusion of new
species in various proportioois from the neighbouring tracts, as
widely difi'erent as the arctic littoral, the dry steppes of Central
Asia, and the wet monsoon regions of the Pacific littoral. A com?,
jlete description of the flora of Siberia would have to treat of (1}
SIBERIA
the high plateau; (2) the alpine tracts — (n) the Altai and (b)
JEist Sayan, with a sub-region to the cast of Lake Baikal ; (3) the
steppo "legions of "Western Siberia ; (4) the Ishini and Baraba
plains of the same ; (5) the high plains of Eastern Siberia, witli the
snb-region (6) of Minusinsk ; (7) the Daurian flora of the lower
terrace of the plateau in Transbaikalia ; (8) the Amur ; (9) the
Usuri and Pacific littoral region ; (10) the arctic tiuidnis, which, as
shown by the " Vega " expedition, may be subdivided into those
(a) west of Yenisei and (b) east of the same to Behring Strait ; and
(11) Kamchatka. Each of these has distinct features; neverthe-
less, if the basin of the Amur and Ka;nchatka be set aside, all have
so much in common that tlie " Siberiiin flora " may be spoken of as
a whole. Siberia is situated for the most part in the great domain
which Grisebach describes as the " forest region of the Eastern
continent."' The northern limit of tins region must, however, be
drawn nearer to the Arctic Ocean. Only a narrow strip, 60 to 200
miles wide (becoming broader in the Taimyr and Samoyede penin-
sulas), is totally devoid of tree vegetation. The last trees, it is true,
which struggle for existence on the edge of the tundras are crippled
dwarfs and almost without branches ; a few buds each summer are
the only evidence that life has not left their frozen stems ; and
trees a hundred years old are only a few feet long and a few inches
thick, concealed amidst lichens.- Some 200 species of flowering
plants are still found in the tundra region, — the frozen ground and
the want of humus militating more against them than the want of
warmth.' From this northern limit to the Aral-Caspian and Mon-
folian steppes we have all over Siberia the forest region, where,
owerer, forests are very unequally distributed, covering from 50 to
99 per cent, of the areas of the separate districts. In the hill tracts
and the marshy depression of the Ob they are unbroken, except by
the bald summits of the loftier mountains {goltsy) ; they have the
aspect of agieeable bosquets in the Baraba ; and they are thinly
scattered through the south-eastern comer of Transbaikalia, where
the dryness of the Gobi steppe is so much felt; while immense marshy
plains covered with the dwarf birch take their place in the north as
the tundras are approached. Over this immense area the trees are for
the most part the same as wo are familiar with in Europe. The
larch becomes predominant and presents itself in two new species
{Larix sibirica and L. dahurica). The fir appears in the Siberian
varieties Picea obovaia and P. ayaiunsis. The silver fir (Abies
sibirica, Pinxis Pichta) and the stone-pine [P. Ccmbra) are quite
common ; they reach the higher summits, where the last-named
becomes a recumbent species {Ccmbra jntmila), while the larch and
the silver fir also acquire a tendency to spread their side branches
instead of rising in height. The willow at high altitudes grows
only two inches high, but still bears a few leaves and fully de-
veloped flowers. The birch in the loftier alpine tracts and plateaus
becomes a shrub {Bclula nana, B. fruticosa), or in Transbaikalia
assumes a new and very elegant aspect with a dark bark [B. dahu-
rica). In the deeper valleys or on the lowlands of Western Siberia
the larches, pines, and silver firs, mixed with birches and aspens,
reach a great size, and the streams are fringed with thickets of
poplar and willow. The alpine rose (Rhododendron dahuricum)
flourishes in. large masses on the higher mountains ; Juniper,
Spirxa, Sorbus, the pfeeudo-acacia (Caragana sibirica and arbor-
cscens, C. jubata in some of tha higher tracts), various Kosaccm —
PoknCilla fruticosa and Coloncaslcr vniflora — the cherry-plum
(Pru/ntis Padus), and many other shrubs fill up the spaces between
the trees. Beriy-yielding plants are found everywhere, even on
the gbltsy, at the upper limit of tree vegetation; on the lower
grounds they are an article of diet to the hunter, and even to the
agriculturist. The red whortleberry ( Faccinium Vitis idma), the
bog whortleberry ( V. uUginosum), the bilberry or cowberry' ( V.
Uyrlillus), and the arctic bramble (JRxibus arcticus) extend very far
northwards; raspberries and red and black currants form a rich
undergrowth in the forests, together with the Jiibcs dikusha in
Eastern Siberia. The oak, the lime, the maple, disappear to the
east of the Urals, to reappear, however, in new varieties on the
eastern slope of the border-ridge of the great plateau (timidly pene-
trating west for some little distance up the valleys of the Amur
and the ArguD).-' There we have the oak (Q. mongolica), the maple
{Jeer gijiala, Max. ), the ash (Praxinus manchurica), the elm ( Ulmits
moniama), the hazel (Coryhts lu:lcrophylla), and several other Euro-
pean acquaintances. Farther east, in the Amur region, a great
number of new species of European trees, and even new genera,
1 According to Englcr's l^ermch elner EntwicktlungsgeschlchU dtr J'JUinzcn-
mll (1879), we bhouM h.ivc in Siberia— (a) tlie arctic region ; (6) llio sub-arctic
or conifer region, -north Siberian province; (c) the Ccntral-Asinn domain,—
Altai and Daurian hilly reglmiB ; and <d) the east Chinese, IntrudInK Into the
basin of the Amur.
' MidilendorlTs observations on vegetable and aniroal life on the borders of
and In the tundras— so attractively told In vol. iv. of hia Sibiriuhe JUise—vm
long remain classical.
' M, KJellniann (Vrija Exp. Vet. lahltngehrr) reckons their nnmbcr at 162 ;
124 species were found by Mlddondorff on the Taimyr peninsula, 'M along the
Borders of tho forest region of Olenek, and SU species within the forest region
or the same ; 470 species wore collected by M. Moack In tho Vilul region.
• Nowhere, perhaps, Is the change better seen than on crossing tho Oreo.'
luiingon. Tho change in the flora witnessed by the present writer on bla way
Trom TnuubalkaUa to Mergotl waa really astonishing.
such as the cork-tree (PheUodcndron amurcnsis), tho walnut (Juglans
manchurica), the acacia (Maackta amnrensis), the graceful climber
Afaximowiczia amurcnsis, the Japanese Trockostijmn, and many
othei-s— all unknown to Siberia proper — make their appearance.
The greatest uniformity preTOils on the high plateau, where tho
lai'ch predominates over all other species of conifers or decidlions
trees ; the wide and open valleys — or rather shallow depiessions —
are covered with Bctula nana and B. fruticosa in the north and
with thick grasses (poor in species) in its southern and drier parts.
Tho same Siberian larch covers the alpine tracts fringing the plateau
on the nortli; but the ti'ce assumes dill'ercnt characters in develonj
ment and growth according to the physical features of the region ;
and the fir, the stone-pine, the aspen, and the birch also becoma
mixed with it; in the narrow sheltered valleys the forests attain their
full development In the drier parts, on tho slopes covered witU
sand or witli a richer soil, the Scotch fir (Piniis sylvcstris) makea
its appearance. In the alpine tracts of the north the narrowness
of the valleys (padi) and the steep stony slopes covered with debris,
on which only lichens and mosses can grow, make each green plot
of grass (even if it be only of Carcx) valuable to the gold-diggefs
and hunters. For days consecutively the horse of the explorer can
get no other food than the dwarf birch. But even in these dis-
tricts the botanist and geographer can easily distinguish between
the tchcril of the Altai and the taiga of difl'erent parts of Eastern
Siberia. The lower plateau exhibits, of course, new characteristics.
Its open spaces are lovely prairies, on which the Daurian flora
appears in its full beauty. In spring the traveller crosses a sea of
grass from which the flowers of the pteony, aconite, Orobus, Carallia,
Saussurca, and the like rise to a height of ,4 or 5 feet. As the. Gobi
desert is approached the forests disappear, the ground becomes
chiefly covered ivith dry Qramincsc, and Salsolaccm make their
appearance on a gravelly clay impregnated with salt. Tho high
plains of the west slope of the plateau are also covered with rich
prairies diversified with woods. Nearly all the species of these
prairies are common also to Eiyope (peonies, hemerocallis, asteis,
pinks, gentians, violets, Cypripcdium, Jgiiilegia, Delphinium, acon-
ites, irises, and so on) ; but here the plants attain a much larger
size, — so large indeed that a man standing erect is concealed by
the grasses. The flora of Minusinsk — the Italy of Siberia — is well
known ; the prairies on the Ishim and of the Baraba (see Tomsk)
ate adorned with the same rich vegetation, so vividly described by
Middendorff and Finsch. Farther north we again reach the doinaiji
of forests ; but these once more present new characteristics. They
are the urmans of Western Siberia, into which the hunter does not
venture to penetrate far from his village,— immense tracts covered
with thickets of trees closely packed and therefore poor in aspect,
and often rising from a treacherous carpet of thickly woven grass
which conceals deep marshes (zyhuny), where even the bear has
to tread circumspectly. The prairies of the middle Amur and the
rich plains of the Selimja and Zeya, where Russian Raskolniks are
so successful as agriculturists, belong to Manchuria.
The fauna of Siberia is closely akin to that of central Europe ;FauML
and the Ural Mountains, although tho habitat of a few species
which warrant the naturalist in regarding the south Urals as a
separate region, are not so important a boundary zoologically as
they arc botanically. As in European Russia, so in Siberia, three
gieat zones — the arctic, the boreal, and the middle — may be dis-
tinguished ; and these, according to M. SyovertsofT,° may be sub-
divided into several sub-regions. The arctic (hyperboreal) zone has
tho same characters as the tundra zones of European Russia. Tha
boreal (circumboreal) zone, which corresponds to tho forest region
of Russia, embraces Western Siberia, with the exception of tho
Urals and the southern steppes, and a notable part of Eastern
Siberia, — Transbaikalia and tlie hilly tracts to the north of it being
distinguished as a separate "Eastern Siberian " sub-region. The
middle zone, extending from south Russia to south Siberia, has two
separate sub-regions, — the Ural-Baraba and the Daurian. Tho zone
of tho steppes extends from the Caspian Sea through Central Asia,
only touching Western Siberia and tho neighbourliood of the Gobi
in Transbaikalia. Finally, the Amur region shares the charactci\
istics of the north Chinese fauna. On tho whole, we may say that
the arctic and boreal faunas of Europe extend over Siberia, with a
few additional species in tho Ural and Baraba region,— a number
of new species also appearing in Eastern Siberia, some spreading
along tho high plateau and others along the lower plateau from
the steppes of the Gobi. The arctic fauna is very jioor. According
to Nordqvist,' it numbers but twenty-nine species of mammals, ol
which seven are marine and only seventeen or oigliloen may bo
safely considered as living beyond tho forest limit. Of these, again,
four are characteristic of the land of the Tchuktchis. The wild
reindeer, the arctic dog (Cania lagopus), tho fox, the hare, the wolf,
the lemming (Myodea obeiisis), the coli«r-lemTOi»K (Cimiculus lor-
quatus), and tivo species of voles (Arvieolai) are the most common
on land. The avifauna is very rich in migratory wsKr and marsh
» "Horizontal Dist'ibution of Anlm.ils," In the Dnilctlu (Jiwilm) of iho
Society of Friends of Natural Science, vol, vlU., 18*3.
"^ " Antccknlnijar och St.udlcr,".4c., Ln Tri^a Eif. *'«'■ '"*'-. "<>'• "
8
SIBERIA
fowl {Grallalorcs and JVatatorcs), which come totreeJ in the coast
region ; but only five land biids — the ptarmigan {Lngopus alpinua),
the snow-bunting, the Icelandic falcon, the snow-owl, and the raven
— are permanent inhabitants of the region. The boreal fauna is
of course much richer ; but here also the great bulk of species,
both of mammals and birds, are common to Europe and Asia. The
bear, the badger, the wolverene, the pole-cat, the ermine, the
common weasel, tlie otter, the wolf, the fox, tlie lynx, the mole,
the hedgeliog, the common shrew, the water-shrew, and the lesser
slirew {Sorcx vulgaris, fodicns, and pygmxi^s), two bats (the
long-eared and tlie boreal), three species of Vespcrtilio [V. dau-
bcntoni, natlcreri, and mystacimts), the flying and the common
sijuirrel {Tamias slrialus), the brown, common, field, and harvest
mouse [Mils dccumanus, miisculus, si/lvalicus, agrarius, and miniUus),
four voles {Arvicola amphibius, rufoCanus, rutihis, and sckistocoloi-),
tlie beaver, the variable hare, the wild boar, the roebuck, the stag,
the reindeer, the elk, and the F/toca annelata of Lake Baikal, —
all these are common alike to Europe and to Siberia ; while the
bear, the musk-deer {Moschus m»schi/encs), the ermine and the
sable, the ground squirrel {Spcrmophilus cvcrsmani), Arvkola oh-
tcurus, and Lagomys hyperborasus, also spread over Sibeiia, may
lie considered as belonging to the arctic fauna. In addition to the
above we find in Eastern Siberia Miistda alpina. Cants aljiimis, the
sable antelope {y£guccnis sibiriais), several species of mouse {Mus
grcgatitSy ceconomtis, and saxatiliis), two voles {Arvicola ritssatus
and iiuicrolus), Syjihncus aspalax, and the alpine Lagomys, which
penetrate from the Central Asian plateaus; wliile the tiger makes
incursions not only in the Amur region but occasionally as far as
Lake Baikal. In all, of fifty-seven species of Siberian mammals
forty-one are common also to Europe, twenty-seven common to the
arctic region, and only sixteen special to Asia. On the lower lenace
of the great plateau we find an admixture of Mongolian species,
such as Canis corsac, Fclis manul, Spcrmophilus dauriciis, the jerboa
(Dipusjaculas), two hamsters (Cricclus songarus anil /urKiiciiliis),
three new voles (Arvicolx), the Tolai hare, the Ogotona hare
(Lagomys ogotona), yEgoccriis argali, Antilope gutturosa, and Eqtiits
hcmioiius (jighitai) ; while the number of species common to Asia
and Europe diminishes notably. The same is true with respect to
birds. Ko less than 285 species have been observed m Siberia,
but of these forty-five only are absent from Europe. In south-east
Siberia we find forty-three new species belonging to the nor'h Man-
churian or Amur fauna ; and in south-east Transbaikalia, on the
borders of the Gobi steppe, only 103 species were found by Radde,
among which the most numerous are migratory birds and the birds
of prey which pursue them. The rivers and lakes of Siberia abound
in fish ; but little is known of their relations with the species of
neighbouring regions.'
Ihe insect fauna is very similar to that of Russia; but a few
genera, as the Tcnlyria, do not penetiate into the steppe region of
Western Siberia, while the tropical Colasposoma, Popilia, and Lan-
•jiiria are found only in south-eastern Transbaikalia, or are confined
10 the southern Amur. On the other side, several American genera
(Ccplialaon, Ophryastcs) extend into the north-eastern parts of
Sibena.^ As in all uncultivated countries, the forests and prairies
of Siberia become almost uninhabitable in summer on account of
tlie mosquitoes. Eastern Siberia suffers less from this plague than
the marshy Baraba ; but on the Amur and the Sungan large gnats
become an unsupportable plague, and travellers who have had
experience of the mosquitoes of the tropics readily admit that they
yield to those of Siberia. Burning the prairie is the only expedient
for destroying them, and is freely resorted to, with the result that
the forest is frequently set on fire.
In Molluscs Siberia is much richer than had been supposed.
The dredgings of the " Vega " expedition in the Arctic Ocean dis-
closed an unexpecteil wealth of marine fauna, and those of L.
i?chrenck lu the north of the Japanese Sea have led to the dis-
covery of no fewer than 256 species (Gasteropods, Brachiopods, and
Conchifers). Even iu Lake Baikal Dr Dybowski and Dr Godtewski
have discovered no fewer than ninety-three species of Gaininarides
•nd twenty-five of Gasteropods." The Sea of Okhotsk is very inter-
esting in this respect, owing to its local species and the general
y>mpo»ition of its fauna (70 species of Molluscs and 21 of Gastero-
J)od3). The land Molluscs, notwithstanding the unfavourable con-
[itions of climate, number about seventy species, — Siberia in this
respect thus being not far behind north Kuropc.
Ihe Siberian fauna is very unequally distributed. The alpine
tracts of Eastern Siberia and the urvians of Tobolsk are from the
zoologist's jioint of view exceedingly poor, owing to the want of
grass and of a mouldy soil. It is on the plateau, and especially
on the lower plateau, as well as on the high plains, where the graz-
ing grounds become numerous, that the fauna appears in its full
riciuiess, Much icniains to be done in the way of investigating
1 CzekanniTski {Izvtstia Sib. Gtoff. Soc., 1S77) has described fifty species from
ttie basin of the Ataur : he considers that tliese constitute only two-thirds of
the species tnhabitiii); that basin. .
'-• Ij. Schrenck, FteiKn und Forschyn<jen iin AmurlaJlde, 1858-80.
3 ;f ; ', (!t I'Acml da Sc. ik St Pllcrtb.. voL xmi., 1S7K. '
the distribution of animals over Siberia with reference to the pliysi.
cal conditions rff its different parts. Although differing little from
the European, the fauna of Siberia possesses great interest for the
zoologist and geographer. The increase of many animals iu size
(becoming twice as large as in Europe) ; the appearance of white
varieties among both mammals and birds, and their great prevalence
among domesticated animals (Yakut horses) ; the migrations of birds
and mammals over immense regions, from the Central Asian steppes
to the arctic coast, performed not only in connexion with the usual
rotation of seasons but also as a result of occasional climacteric con-
ditions which are not yet fully known [e.g., the occasional migration
of thousands and thousands of roebuck from Manchuria across the
Amur to the left bank of the river, or the migration of reindeer
so well related by Wrangel) ; the various coloration of many animals
according to the composition of the forests they inhabit (the sable
and the squirrel are well-known instances) ; the mixture of northern
and southern faunas iu the Amur region and the remarkable con-
se(iuences of that mixture in the struggle for existence ; — all these
render the study of the Siberian fauna most attractive. Finally,
the laws of distribution of animals over Siberia cannot be made out
until the changes undergone by its surface during the Glacial and
Lacustrine periods are well established and the Post-Tertiary fauna
is better known. The remarkable finds of Quaternary mammals
about Omsk and their importance for the history of the Equidcx are
but a hint of what may be expected in this field.
The great bulk of the population are Russians, whose number P
has increased with great rapidity during the 19th century: although tii
not exceeding 150,000 in 1709 and 500,000 a century later, they
now (1887) number more than 3,000,000, and not far from 4,000,000
if the eastern slopes of the Urals are reckoned to Siberia. At the
same time the entire indigenous population does not exceed 700,000
if the Kirghizes of Semipalatinsk are reckoned to Turkestan, and
many indigenes are rapidly dying out. The Russians, issuing from R
the middle Urals, have travelled as a broad stream through south in
Siberia, sending lateral branches to the Altai, to the IU river in tii
Turkestan, and to Minusinsk, as well as down the chief rivers which
flow to the Arctic Ocean, the banks of which are studded with vill-
ages 15 to 20 miles apart. As Lake Baikal is approached the stream
of Russian immigration becomes narrower, occupying only the valley
of the Angara, with a series of villages up the Irkut ; but it widens
again in Transbaikalia, sending lateral branches up the Selenga and
its tributaries. It follows the course of the Amur, again in a suc-
cession of villages some 20 miles apart, and can be traced up the
Usuri to Lake Khangka and Vladivostok, with an extension of
villages on the plains between- the Zeya and thS Seliinja. Small
Russian settlements also occur on a few bays of the North Pacific
and the Sea of Okhotsk, as well as on Saghalin (see Saghalin).
The Russians have thus occupied all the best agricultural tracts
in Western and Eastern Siberia.
As to the indigenous races, the Ugrian stocks which occupy the Ir
north-west of Siberia are represented by (1) the Voguls (about 6400), oi
on the eastern slopes of the Urals, in Perm and Tobolsk, extending
partly over the western slope ; they closely resemble the Ostiaks,
in some features approximating the JlongOl race, and speak the same
language; (2) the Ostiaks (j. v.) ; and (3) the Samoyedes (?.».).
Survivals of Turkish stocks, ouce much more numerous, are spread T
all over south Siberia as far as Lake Baikal. Their territories are st
rapidly being occupied by Russians, and their settlements are cut
in two by the Russian stream, — the Baraba Tatars and the Yakuts
being to the north of it, and the others having been driven back to
the hilly tracts. According to M. Radloff,* they are as follows : —
(1) the Karagases iu the Yeniseisk and Irkutsk spurs of the Sayan
Jlountains (about 500) ; (2) the Abakan Tatai-s (about 10,000),—
driven from the Irtish, they occupied the Abakan steppes after the
emigration of the Kalmucks ; (3) those of the Tcholym scattered
amidst Russians (500) ; (4) the Tatars of the north and north-east
Altai, in all about 20,000, — [a) the Kumandintsy, (6) the Lebed
Tatars, (c) the Ichciii or forest Tatars, (rf) the Shorghintses ; (5)
those of the Altai proper, — (a) Altaians (11,800), (6) Dvoedantsy
(2000), who until 1S65 paid tribute to both Russia' and China, and
(c) the Teleutes (5800), mostly Russified; (6) the Soyotes and
Uryankhes of East Sayan, of whom a few families are iu Siberian
territory ; (7) the Baraba Tatars (4050), mostly driven northwards
to the forest and marsh region ; (8) the Irtish and Tobolsk Tatars
(some 7000 to 10,000 on the Tara and 15,700 in the Tobolsk dis-
trict). In all they number about 78,000, to whom should be
added a number of Kirghiz from Turkestan. The great Turkish
stock of the Yakuts (see Yakutsk) in the basin of the Lena num-
bers about 200,000. Most of these Turkish stocks live by cattle-
breeding and some by agriculture, and are a moat laborious and
honest population.
The Mongols (about 350,000) extend into 'Westeni Siberia from
the high plateau,— nearly 20,000 Kalmucks living in the eastern
Altai. In Eastern Siberia the Burials occupy the Selenga and Uda,
parts of Nertchinsk, and the steppes between Irkutsk and the upper
* Am Sibiricn, 2 vols., Leipsic, ISSl ; also in Jivopitnaya Rosaiya, ToL zii.
SIBERIA
Leoa, as also tlie Baikal Mountains and the island of Orklion ;
tliey support themselves cliicfly by stock-breeding, but some of
them, especially iu Irkutsk, are agiiculturists (see Transbaikalia).
Ou the left of the Amur there are about 10,000 Chinese aud ilau-
ehurians about the moutli of the Zeya, and nearly 3000 Coreans
on the Pacific coast. The Tiinguses, although few in numbers
(50,000), occupy as their hunting-grouuds an immense region on
the high plateau and its slopes to the Amur, but their limits are
yearly becomin" more and more circumscribed both by Russian
gold-diggers and by Yakut settlers.
Finally, in the north-east we find a group of stocks whose ethno-
logical place is not yet accurately determined. They are united
into a separate NiA'th Asian linguistic group, and include the
Tchuktchi-s, who may number 12,000, tlie Koryaks (5000), and
the Kamchadales (3000), the Ghilyaks (nearly 5000) of the lower
Amur aud north Saghalin, and the Ainos (3000) of south Saghalin.
The Yukaghirs (1600) seem to be merely Tunguses. Some 5000
Gipsies wander about Siberia.
Much has been written of late about the sad state of the indigen-
ous populations of Siberia.' They are pitilessly deprived of their
bunting and grazing grounds and compelled to resort to agriculture,
— a modification exceedingly hard for them, not only on account
of their poverty but also because they are compelled to settle in
the less favourable regions. European civilization has made them
familiar with all its worst sides and nith none of its best. Taxed
with a tribute in furs (yasa/c) from the earliest years of the conquest,
they often revolted in the 17th century, but were cruelly reduced
to obedience. The tribifte was never great (about IJ roubles per
head); but the official valuation of furs was always only one-third
to one-fourth of their real value and the exactions of the authorities
trebled it again. In 1824 the settled indigenes had to pay the
very heavy rate of 11 roubles per head, and the arrears, which soon
became ei|ual to the sums levied, were rigorously exacted. It must
be fully acknowledged that severe measures taken by the Govern-
ment in the last two centuries prevented the growth of anything
like legalized slavery on Siberian soil ; but the people, ruined as
they were both by the intrusion of agricultural colonists and by
the exactions of Government officials, fell into what was practically
a kind of slavery (kabaia) to the merchants. Even the best-iuten-
tioned Government measures, such as the importation of corn, the
prohibition of the sale of s]iirits, and so on, became new sources of
oppression. The action of missionaries, who cared only about
nominal Christianizing, had no better effect. It is worthy of
notice that the spread of Mohammedanism among the Tatars and
Kirghizes and of Lamaism among the Buriats took place under the
liussians and was favoured by the Government.
The Russians of Siberia differ to some extent from those of the
mother-country. They might have been expected to intermix largely
with the Finnish, Turkish, and Mongol elements with which they
came in contact ; but, in consequence of causes ali'eady mentioned
nnder Rt;ssiA (vol. xxi. p. 78), the mixture is much less than might
be supposed ; and the continuous arrival of new immigrants con-
tributed to lessen t,he effects of mixtures which really took place.
One is accordingly struck to find in Western Sioeria compact masses
of Russians who have lost so little of their primitive ethnographical
features, and to hear throughout Siberia a language which differs
from that of northern Russia only by a slight admixture of words
borrowed from the natives (mostly relating to hunting or cattle-
rearing), and a fe\y expressions of Polish origin. The case is other-
wise, however, on the outskirts. Castren characterized Obdorsk
(mouth of the Ob) as a true Samoyedic tovri\, although peopled with
'^' Russians." The Cossacks of Western Siberia have the features
and customs and many of the manners of life of the Kalmucks and
Kirghiz. Yakutsk is thoroughly Yakutic ; marriages of Russians
with Yakut wives are comnioi}, and some forty years ago the Yakut
lang\iage was predominant among the Russian merchants and
officials. At Irkutsk and in the valley of the Irkut the admixture
of Tungus and Huriat blooil is obvious, and still more in the Ner-
tchinsk district and among the Transbaikalian Cossacks settled
for the last two centuries on the ArguB. They speak the IJuriat
language as often as Russian, and in a Buriat dress tlie Arguii
Cossack can hardly be distinguished from a Buriat. In separate
parts of Siberia, on the borders of the hilly tracts, the mixture with
Tatars was quite common. Of course it is now rajddly growing
less, and the settlers who entered Siberia in the 19th centnry
married Russian wives and remained thoroughly Russian. There
are accordingly parts of Siberia, especially among the Raskolniks,
where the north Russian, the Great Russian, and the Ukrainian
types have maintained themselves in their full purity, and only
some differences in domestic architecture, in the disposition of
their villages, and in the lang\iage and character of the population
remind the travellci^ that ho is in Siberia. The Russians in Siberia
have emigrated from all parts of European Russia ; but the special
featur&i of the language and partly also of the national character are
due to the earliest settlers, wlio came mostly from northern Russia.
1 YadrintseiTB SibtTia 03 a Colony contains a auraniary of tbls literature wltli
bibliography.
The natural rate of increase of population Is very slow as a rule,
and does not exceed 7 or 8 per 1000 annuall}'. The gi-eat mortality,
especially among children, is one of the causes of this, the birth-
rate being also Iciwer than in Russia. In Western Siberia the
former is 38 per 1000 in towns and 30 in villages, while the births
are 43 in towns and 44 in villages. The climate of Siberia, how-
ever, cannot be called unhealthy, except in certain localities where
goitre is common (ou the Lena, in several valleys of Nertchinsk,
and in the Altai Mountains). The rapid growth of the actual popu-
lation is chiefly due to inimigi'ation.
Agiiculture is the chief occupation both of the settled Russian an!
of the native population. South Siberia has a very fertile soil and
yields rich crops, but immense tracts are utterly unfit for tillage.
In the lowlands of Western Siberia it is carried on up to 61° N.
lat.- On the high plains fringing the alpine tracts on the north-
west it can be carried on only in the south, farther north only iu
the valleys, reaching 62° N. lit. in that of the Lena, and in the
alpine tracts in only a few valleys, as that of the Irkut. On the
high plateau all attempts to grow cereals have failed, — only the wide
trenches (Uda, Selenga, Djida), already described, giving encourage-
ment to the agriculturist. On the lower plateau, in Transbaikalia,
grain is successfully raised in the Nertchinsk region, — with serious
risks, however, from early frosts in the valleys of the mountain-
ridges which rise above its surface. South-east Transbaikalia
suffers from want of water, and the Buriats irrigate their fields.
Although agriculture is carried on on the upper Amur, where laud
has been cleared from virgin forests, it really prospers only below
Kumara and on the rich plain's of the Zeya and Selimja. In the
depression between the Bureya range and the coast-ranges it suffers
greatly from the heavy July and August rains, and from inunda-
tions ; while on the lower Amur the agriculturists barely maintain
themselves by growing cereals iu clearances on the slopes of hills,
so tliat the settlements on the lower Amur and Usuri continually
require help from Government to save them from famine. The chief
grain-producing regions of Siberia are — the Tobol and Ishim region,
the Baraba, the region about Tomsk, and the outskirts of the
Altai, which cover an aggregate of 330,000 square miles (155,000
in the Altai) ; they have a thoroughly Russian population of nearly
2,000,000 inhabitants, aud nearly 8,600,000 acres are under crops.
The Tobolsk region, mostly covered with urmans, but having nearly
1,000,000 acres cultivated, and the northern districts of Semipala-
tinsk, which are being rapidly colonized, must be added to the above.
On the whole, iu the basins of the Ob and Irtish, the annual yield
is about 2,350,000 quarters of summer wheat, 1,260,000 of summer
rye, 3,240,000 of oats, and 6,000,000 bushels of jKjtatoes. Tho
figures for Eastern Siberia are not so reliable,^ about 1,100,000
quarters of various grains in Irkutsk (one -third raised by the
Buriats), 400,000 in Transbaikalia, 40,000 in Yakutsk, about
100,000 in the Amur province, and 25,000 in the Maritime Pro-
vince ; and the Yeniseisk peasants sell every year about 700,000
cwts. of corn. The Minnsinsk district, one of the richest in Siberia
(45,000 inhabitants, of whom 2800 are settled and 24,000 nomadic),
h:is riore than 45,000 acres under crops ; and in the whole pro-
vince of Yeniseisk about 3,000,000 acres are cultivated.
Cattle-breeding is extensively carried on in many parts. In the C'attle-
Ob and Irtish region of Western Siberia there are about 2,000,000 breeding
horses, 1,500,000 head of horned cattle, 3,000,000 sheep, and
100,000 reindeer; for Eastern Siberia the figures are approximately
850,000 horses, 1,100,000 horned cattle, 1,120,000 .sheep, and
about 50,0<30 reindeer. Tho industry is, however, carried on in
the most primitive manner. In Transbaikalia little hay is made,
and tho Buriat horses se«k their food throughout the winter be-
neath the thin sheet of show which covers tho steppes. A single
snowstorm in spring sometimes destroys iu a few days thousands of
horses thus weakened. In Western Siberia tho "Siberian plague"
makes great ravages, and the average losses arc estimated at about
37,500 head of cattle annually.
Bee-keeping is widely diffused, especially in Tomsk and tho
Altai. Honey is exported to Russia. The seeds of tho stone-pine
aro collected for oil in Western Siberia.
Hunting still continues to bo a profitable occupation, the male
population of whole villages in the hilly and woody tracts setting
out in October for a month's hunting. The sable, however, which
formerly constituted the wealth o^Siberia, is now so scarce that four
sables per man is the maximum in the best districts. Squirrels,
bears, foxes, snow -foxes, antelopes, and especially deer in spring
arc at jire.sent the principal objects of the chase. But even iu
Yakutsk the total produce of hunting was in 1879 only 65 sables,
2360 snow-foxes, 23,440 ermines, 140,550 snuirrels, 1780 foxes, H.I
bears, 1310 reindeer, and 26,780 hares. The forests on tho Amur
yielded a rich return of furs during the first years of tho Russian
occupation, anil tho Amur sable, although much inferior to the
Yakutsk and Transbaikalian, was largely exported. In 1862 1800
sables and 40,000 squirrels wore killed in the province of Amur.
t Tlio northern lliiiits nf acrlcnltiirv aro (10" N. lot en the tJrala. M' at Y»
l<iitHk, nr at A)(lan«l<, M' .SO' at Uiliilloi, ami 63" to M" in tlie lnt<irior ot Hmo,
clmtka (MiaUcndorlT, SibiriKht litur, vol. iv.V.
XXLL — a
10
S I B E B I A
and 9300 in the Maritiilie Pr<ivinco; but in 1877 tire total export
from the former diJ not exceed in value £1700 to £2000.
The same falling-off is observable ia the fisheries,— one species at
least, the Rhytina sldlcri, having completely disappeared within
the 19th century, fishing is still a valuable source of income
on the lower courses of the great rivers, especially the Ob, where the
yearly earnings amount to about £30,000. The fisheries on Lake
Baikal supply cheap food (the omul) to the poorer classes of Irkutsk
and Transbaikalia. The native populations of the Amur — Golds
and Ghilyaks — support themselves chiefly by tbeir fisheries, when
the salmon enters in dense masses the Amur and its tributaries.
Though Siberia has within itself all the raw produce necessary
for prosperous indoatriea, it eoDtinues to import from Russia with-
out exception all the manufactured articles it uses. Giving to the
distances over which they are earried and the bad organization of
trade, all mauufactured articles are exceedingly dear, especially in
the east. The manufactories of Siberia employ less than 15,000
workmen, and their aggregate production does not exceed £1 ,600,000
in value; of these 11,500 are employed in Western Siberia, the
yearly production being about £1, '200,000. Ifearly one-third of the
total represents wine-spirit, 23 per cent, tanneries, 18 per cent,
tallow- melting, and a considerable sum cigarette -making. The
villages of Siberia do not carry on"» variety of petty trades lii<e
t!ie villages in Russia, except in the districts of Tobolsk nearest
the Urals, where tanning, boot-making, carpet-making, and the
like are prosecuted.
Jliuing is in the same backward state as manufacturing in-
dusti-y. The chief attention is given to gold-mining. But the use
of improved machinery is far from common, and the condition of
the workmen wretchedly had, — insufficient food, bad lodgings, and
overwork under the most unsanitary conditions. As the geology
of the gold-mining districts is (juite unknown, immense sums are
sunk in futile search. The amount of gold obtained has much
increased since mining was begun in the Nertchinsk district and
parts of the Altai (a right formerly reserved for the imperial
Government), and since the discovery of auriferous deposits in the
basin of the Amur and in the Maritime Province. It reached in
1882 4563 tb in AVestern Siberia (nearly all in the Altais), and
58,4201b in Eastern Siberia (about 27,000 in Yakutsk, more than
10,000 in Nertchinsk, and about 8000 in the province of Amur).
The Altai mines (12,000 workmen) yielded in 1881 16,670tb of silver
(13,310 in 1882), 13,140 cwts. of lead, 6700 of copper (the last two
decreasing items), 3200 of iron, 240,000 of coal, and about 320,000
of salt. Silver-mining is almost entirely abandoned in Nertchinsk,
and in 1882 only 19001b were extracted.
frade. Trade is in the hands of a few merchants. The chief market is
the Nijni-Novgorod fair, where Siberian merchants get twelve or
eighteen months' credit at correspondingly high rates.' Prices on
the Amur are not more favourable, since the trade by sea is pre-
vented from developing owing to the facility with which great pro-
fits are made by the exchange of \vine-spirit and sables for whisky.
The villages are in a still worse condition, whole po{)ulatiou3 being
dependent for the necessaries of life upon a few merchants. The
foreign trade is insignificant, and the hundred merchant ships
(thirty English) which visited the port of Vladivostok in 1883 came
chiefly for the needs of the garrison. The imports of manufactured
wares from Russia amount to an annual value of £12,000,000 ; the
corresponding exports of raw produce are only about £4,000,000,
— tallow, hides, furs, and grain being the chief items. There are
several great fairs in Siberia, that of Irbit (with an annual turnover
of £5,000,000 to £7,000,000) being the most important. Those of
ishim, Tomsk, Irkutsk, and Verkhne-Udinsk deserve mention. Ih
the north and north-east several fairs, where natives gather to pay
tribute, to sell furs, and to purchase food and necessaries for hunt-
ing, have a local importance.
The main line of communication is the great Moscow road. It
starts from Perm on the Kama, and, crossing the Urals, reaches
Ekaterinburg— the centre of mining industiy — and Tyumen on the
Tara, whence steamers ply via Tobolsk to Tomsk. A railway
has of late been constructed between Perm and Ekaterinburg,
touching the' chief ironworks of the eastern slope of the middle
Urals, and has been continued via Kamyshtoff to Tyumen. From
Tyumen the Moscow road proceeds to Omsk, Tomsk, Krasnoyarsk,
and Irkutsk, Bonding off from Kotyvan a branch south to Barnaul
in the Altai and to Turkestan. From Irkutsk it pioceeds to Trans-
baikalia, and Lake Baikal is crossed either by steamer or (when
frozen) on sledges, in either case from Listvenitchnaya to Posolskoye.
A route was laid out about 1868 round the south shore of Lake
Baikal in order to maintain communications with Transbaikalia
during the spring and autumn, which were frequently interrupted
when the old route from Selenghinsk across the Khamar-daban
Lad to be resorted to. From Posolskoye on Lake Baikal the great
load proceeds to Verkhne-udinsk, Tchita, and Sryetensk on the
. 1 Salt ill tlie Altai region (where it is obtained) is retaileil at 3 roubles 40 co-
[lecks the jiiM (4s. 1(M. for 32 Ih); su?ar, v;\\\i\\ is soM 8t 7 Co I* roubU^s the p»id
in Western Siberia (143. to 16s. Mie 32 Ibl, reaches \i to 20 roubles in Transbai-
l^ilia. autl occasionally iH roubles a' Va>>-utsk.
Shilka, whence steamers ply to the month of the Amur and up tlis
Usuri and Sungatcha to Lake Khangka. When the rivers ars
frozen communicaiion is maintained by sledges on the Amur ; bnt
in spring and antumn the only continuous route down the Sliilka
and the Amur, to ita mouth, is on horseback along a mountain
path (very difficult across the Bureya range). On the lower Amur
and on the Usuri the journey is also difficult even jn horseback.
On the whole the steamer communication is in an u.iiatisfactory
state, and when the water on the upper Amur is- low vessels are
sometimes unable to reach the Shilka. The Yeni-sei ia navigated
as far as Minusinsk, and communication is maintained alon" its
banks in the summer by boat and horse. The Angara offers great
difficulties to navigation on account of its rapids ; regular water
communication begins only below these and is continued to its
mouth. On the Lena, which is an important waterway from Kirensk,
merchandise is shipped for the gold-mining companies on the Lena
below theVitim. and sometimes up the lower Vitim. Another route
of importance before the conquest of the Amur is that which con-
nects Yakutsk with Okhotsk or Ayan. Regular postal communica-
tion is maintained by the Russians between Kiachta and Kalgan
(close by Peking) across the desert of Gobi Owing to the relatively
good condition of tlio great highway the journey to Siberia is not
so difficult or fonni lable as is generally supposed. As a mle the
Siberians travel freely, and long journeys are undertaken more
readily than short railway journeys are in Europe.
Siberia has been colonized in two different ways. On the one hand, Co
the Government sent parties (1) of Cossacks to settle on the frontiers, tio
(2) of peasants who were bound to settle at appointed places and
maintain, the communications along the rentes, (3) of slrycltsys to
pairison forts, (4) of yaiiwchiks — a special organization of Old
Ruusia intrusted with the maintenance of horses for postal com-
mii, ication, and finally (5) of convicts. Even so recently as 1856-57
a go.id deal of the Amur region was peopled in this way. Serfs
in t; e imperial mines were liberated and organized in Cossack
regim <nts (the Transbaikalia Cossacks) ; some of them were settled
on th, Amur, forming the Amur and Usuri Cossacks. Other
parts 01 the river were colonized by peasants who emigrated with
tiovernment aid, and were liound to settle in villages, about 20
miles apart, on the Amur, at spots designated by officials. As a
rule, this kind of colonization has not produced the results that
were expected. On the other hand, tree colonization has been more
successful and has been undertaken on a much larger scale.. Soon
after the first appearance of the Cossacks of Yeraiak in Siberia
thousands of hunters [promyshlonytt), attracted by the furs, im-
migrated from north Russia, explored the country, traced the first
footpaths, and erected the first houses in the wilderness. .Later
on serfdom, religions persecutions, and conscription were the chief
causes which led the peasants to make their escape to Siberia
and bnild their villages in the most . iliaccessible forests, in the
prairies, and even ou Chinese territory. The severe measures of
the Government against such ''runaways" could not prevent their
immigration to Siberia. While governmental colonization studded
Siberia with forts, free colonization filled up the intermediate
spaces. This freecolonizatiou has continued throughout the 19th
century, occasionally assuming larger proportions, as in 1848-55.
Since the emancipation of the serfs it has been steadily increasing.
In spite of the involved formalities which the peasants have to go
through before emigrating, and the great expense, whole villages
emigrate from Russia to Siberia. During the twenty-five years
ending 1879 no fewer than 100,000 persons crossed the Urals; and
in 1882 the Ural Railway conveyed 7025 emigrants, while the total
number of emigrants to Siberia in the same year was estimated at
not less than 40,000.=
Siberia is a great penal colony. Exile to Siberia began in the Ei
first years of its discovery, and as early as 1658 we find the Non-
conformist priest A vvakum' following in chains the exploring party
of Pashkoff on the Amur. Raskolniks in the second half of the
17th century, rebel strycltsy under Peter I., courtiers of rank dur-
ing the reigns of the empresses, Polish confederates under Catherine
II., the "Decembrists" under Nicholas I., nearly 50,000 Poles
after the insurrection of 1863, and later on whole generations of
socialists were sent to Siberia ; while the number of common-law
convicts and exiles transported thither has steadily increased since
the end of the 18th century. No exact statistics of Siberian
exile were kept before 1823. But it is known that in the firat
years of the 19th century nearly 2000 persons were transported
every year to Siberia. This figure had reached an average of 18,250
in 1873-77 and rose'above 20,000 in 1882. Between 1823 and
1877 the total was 393,914,'' to which ought to be added the
families of many exiles, making more than 600,000 men, women,
and children transported since the beginning of the 19th century.
Of 151,584 transported during the ten years 1867-76 18,582 were
_ :_ I
» Yadrlntseff, Siberia as a Colony ; Levitoff, Guide to West Siberia (Russian) ;
R^isskaya Mt/sl, July ISM.
8 The autobiography of the protopope A\-vakum is one of the most popular
books witli Russian NoDeonfurmists.
4 The Pules are not rccl-.oued iu the above ngurea.
SIBERIA
11
coii>Iemnp.l to haixl labour, ^S.SSi to De settlc.l with loss of civil
rights {ss:/l,io-pos'lcitUy), 23,3S3 to be settled without loss of rights
(/in todvcnctic), 2iJl to live nearly fi'«e().a;i(i!:),',while 78,686 were
tj-ansported simply by qrJers of the ailmijiistratiou or ilecisions of
the viUa'^e communities. In 13S1 21,104 exQcs, followed by 1752
women and 3631 cliildren, were transported to Siberia. Their dis-
tribution undir ditferent lieada was nearly the sajnc as the above.
The hard-labour couvicts (some 1800 or 1900) sent every year
.are distributed among several prisons in AVestcrn and Eastern
Siberia, the imperial gold-washings at Kara on the Shilka, and the
salt-works of Usolie and Ust-Kut ; but, as these prisons and works
cannot take more than 10,000 in all, the surplus have to be sent
to S.iGUALiN (j.ii.), where they are employed in the coal-mines, or
settled. After liberation the'hard-labotir convicts enter the cate-
gory of ssi/lno-poscteiUsi/, and are settled in villages. It appears
from recent inquiries that nearly all are in a wretched condition,
and that of the 200,000 on the official registers more than one-third
have disappeared without being accounted for. Keai-ly 20,000 men
(JO.OOO according to other estimates) are living in Siberia the life
of brodyayhi, trying to make their way through the forests to their
native provinces in Russia. The exile population of Siberia is much
imaller than is generally supposed, being — in Tobolsk, 59,000, 4'6
per cent, of population ; in Tomsk, 29,800, 2-6 ; in Yeniseisk, 45,000,
10-6; iu Irkutsk, 40,000, 10; in Transbaikalia, 21,335, 4-3; in
Yakutsk, 3000, 1-2 ; total, 198,153 or 4-9 per cent.
Education stands at a very low level. The chief towni of eveiy
province is provided mth a classical gymnasium, where the sous
of the local officials prepare for the university, and a gymnasium
or prog)-muasinm for girls ; but the education there received is not
of a high graile, and the desire of the local population for "real
schools " is not satisfied. The sum of £10,000 bequeathed by
DemidofT in 1817 for the foundation of a university in Siberia,
together with an additional £40,000 raised by subscription, remains
unemployed, and, although the Government finally permitted the
erection of buildings for a univei-sity at Tomsk, it again decided
(1885), for political reasons, to postpone its opening. In 1883
there were in Westeru Siberia only 534 schools of all descriptions,
with 14,097 male and 4915 female pupils. Transbaikalia had in
1881 108 schools of a very inferior kind, with 3828 pupils ; Y'akutsk,
23 schools, with 633 pupils in 1882. There arc in all five gymnasia
and five progymnasia for boys, three gymnasia and two progym-
nasia for girls, two "real schools," and three normal schools ; but
many vacant teaching posts in gymnasia remain unoccupied.
Primary education is iu a very unsatisfactory state, and primary
schools very scarce.
y Siberia is divided into four governments, — Tobolsk, Tomsk,
Yeniseisk, and Irkutsk, — and four provinces, — Yakutsk, Trans-
s, baikalia, Amur, and Maritime or Primorskaya. The first two are
under governoi-s, like Russian governments ; the next four are
under the goveruor-general of Eastern Siberia, who resides at Ir-
kutsk ; the Amur and Maritime provinces are under the governor-
general of the Amur, who resides at Khabarovka, at the junction
of the Amur and the Usuri. The respective chief towns are —
Tobolsk, Tomsk, Krasnoyarsk, Irkutsk, Yakutsk, Tchita, Blagove-
schensk, and Khabarovka. The provinces of AkmoUnsk (idiief
town, Akmoly) and Semiryetchensk (chief town, Vycrnyi) are now.
parts of the steppe governor - generalship. Each government
and province is subdinded iuto districts ; the administrative head
is a civil governor in the governments and a military governor in
the provinces. By the regulations of 1834 each governor and
governor-general is assisted by a council composed of chiefs of
several departments (nominated by the governor -general), and
several olfici.ds depending direc'ly upon the respective ministries.
The council has ouly a consultative voice, the final decision resting
with the administrative head. The governors-general and military
goveraors command the military forces of the provinces, — Cossacks
and regulars. The new system of legal procedure introduced in
Russia in 1866 has not yet been extended to Eastern Siberia, where
the old courts arc still in fotce. It has been introduced iu AVestern
Siberia, but without juries. The towns have received the new
municipal or"anlzatiou. The zcmstvo is not yet organized. The dis-
tricts are under the control of ispravnUcs and zascdalcis, who liave
Ycry extensive powers, and are not controlled by self-government
of the peasantry. The Cossacks — ^tho Siberian on the Kirghiz
frontier (90,000 jiersons, stretching in villages along a line of 1200
miles), the Transbaikalian, and Hjose of the Amur and the Usuri,
vrhose villages are dotti'd along the Amur to its junction with the
Usuri and along the Usuri to Lake Khangka atfd Vladivostok — are
under thoir own officers, and special administrative functions are
entrusted to the military chief {ataman) of oich separate Cossack
voMo. The Altai and Kertchinsk mines, with iheir territories and
populations, arc under the iiiii)eri.al cabinet, — all private mines
pcing under the inspection of mining engineers.
Since the earliest years of conquest Siberia has been placed nn Jer
the rule of voivodcs (governors), under a special department at
Moscow. In 1708 it was divided into five provinces, depending
upon a governor residing at Tobolsk. Catherine l\. introduced in
1764 a vice-royalty, which existed, however, only until 1799, when
governors and governors -general were introduced. This system
jiievailed until 1S19. This part of the histoiy of Siberia was an
unbroken record of robbery, tyi-aniiy, and folly on the part of tho
governors and ispi-avniks, such as would seem incredible were the
facts not testified to by the annals and documents recently published
in Russia. In vain were the severest measures resorted to. Peter I.
onlered the governor Prince Gagarin to be hanged, and the governor
Jolobolf was executed iu 1736, while many minor oBicials were
condemned to hard labour or the knout. The robberies aud th»
cruelties of rulers like Krylolf, Pestel, Treskin, Loskutolf, and their
myrmidons compelled the Government to undertake a thorough
inquiry, and for this purpose Speranskiy was sent in 1819. Tq
him Siberia is indebted for the new system of administration which
lias since rcmaiued in force.
The chief towns of Siberia are — Ekaterinburg (25,150 inhabitants;,
which belongs, however, to Perm, although situated on the eastern
slope of the Urals; Tomsk (31,550), a commercial city, selected as
the site of tho university; and Irkutsk (36,120 iu Jauuary 1884).
capital of Eastern Siberia, a tiading city. Tobolsk (20,130), Kras-
noyarsk (16,800s Tchita (12,000), Blagovyeschensk (80'<0), and
Khabarovka (2500) are mere administrative centres. Biysk h»
Tomsk (18,700) yearly acquires more importance from its trad«
with the Kirghiz steppe. Kurgan (8915) and Yatutorovsk (4500)
in Tobolsk are large villages, dciiendent chiefly on agriculture and
some trade. Barnaul (17,350), Kotyvaii (12,450), Koznetsk (7355),
Zmeinogorsk (6160), and Zyrianovsk (4450) in the Altai are mining
centres; Barnaul is the seat of the mining administration. Tyumea
(14,300) and Tara (8650) iu Tobolsk, Jlariinsk in Tomsk, Kainsk
(8050) and Miuusinsk (740U) In Yeniseisk, Kiachta (4300), Veikhue-
udinsk (4150), aud Nertchmsk (4070) in Transbaikalia, may be
mentioned as local commercial centres — Kiachta having once had
great importance in the tea- trade with China. The others are
merely administrative centres. Towns like Obdorsk, Berezoff,
Narym, Yiluisk, Verkhoyansk, Okhotsk, and many others which
figure on the maps are merely administrative centres for levjing
the yasak, each with less than 1000 or even fewer than 500 and
300 inhabitants. Of the fifty-three towns of 'Western aud Eastern
Siberia only two have more than 30,000 and eight fjom 12,000 to
21,000 inhabitants each; in ten towns the population ranges from
5000 to 10,000.
The shores of all the lakes which filled the depressions during the
Lacustrine period are covered with remains dating from the Neo-
lithic Stone period ; and numberless kurguTis (tumuli), ove..s, and
so on bear witness to a much denser population than the pres'^nt.
During the gieat migrations in Asia from east to west many
pojiulations were probably driven to the northern borders of the
great plateau and thence compelled to descend into Siberia ; suc-
ceeding waves of immigiation drove them still farther towards the
barren grounds of the north, where the}' melted away. According
to Kadloff, the earliest inh.abitants of Siberia were the Yeniseians,
who spoke a language different from the Ural-Altaic; some few
traces of them (Yeniseians, Sayan-Ostiaks, and Kottes) have been
found among the Sayan Mountains. The Yeniseians were followed
by the Ugro-Samoyedes, who also came originally from the high
plateau and were compeired, probably during the great migration of
the Huns in the 3d century B.C., to cross the Altai and Sayan ranges
and to enter Siberia. To them must be assigned the very numerous
remains dating from the Bronze period which are scattered all over
south Siberia. Iron was unknown to them ; but they excelled in
bronze, silver, and gold -nork. Their bronze ornaments and im-
plements, often polished, evince a great deviilopment of artistic
taste ; and their irrigated fields' covered wide areas in tho fertile
tracts. On the whole, their civilization stood much higher than
tliat of their more recent successors. Eight ceiitnries later the
Turkish stocks of "Tukiu" (in Chinese spelling), Khagasses, and
Uigurs — also compelled to migrate north-westwards from their
former seats— subdued the Ugro-Samoyedes. These new invaders
have likewise left numerous traces of their sojourn, aud two dif-
ferent periods may be easily distinguished in their remains. They
were acquainted with iron, and leained from their subjects the art
of bronze-casting, wliich they used for decorative purposes only,
and to which they gave a still higher artistic stamp. Their potteiy
is also much more perfect and more artistic than tnat of the Bronza
period, and their ornaments now have a place among the finest
collections at tho St Pctersbnrg Hermitage. This Turkish om]iirc
of tho Khagasses must have lasted until the 13th century, when the
Jlongols, under .Tcnghiz Khan, subdued them and destroyed their
civilization. A decided decline is sliown by the graves which have
been discovered, until the country reached the low level at which it
was found by the Russians on their arrival towai-ds the close of
tho 16th century. In tho beginning of tho 16th century Tatar
fugitives from Turkestan snbdued the loosel" associated tribes in-
habiting the lowlands to tho cast of tho iJrals. Agricultu^i•t^
tanners, merclianf.s, and mollahs (priests) were called from Turke-
stan, and small principalities sprang nn on tho Irtish ami the Ob.
These were united by Khan Ediger, ami conflicts with tho Russian*
12
SIBERIA
wlio vere then coftnizing tlie tlrais brought him into collision
■with Moscow ; his envoys came to JIoscow in 1555 and consented
to a j-early trH)ate of a thousand sables. This source of wealth
attracted Russian adventurers to the trans-Ural regions. As early
as the 11th centiiry the Novgorodians had occasionally penetrated
into Siberia ; but tl>e fall of the republic and the loss of its north-
eastern dependencies checked the advance of the Russians across
the Urals.' On the defeat of Ste))an Razin many who were unwill-
ing to submit to the iron rule of JIoscow made their way to the
settlements of Stroganoflf in Perm, and tradition has it that, in.order
to get rid of his guests, Stroganoll' suggested to their chief, Yermak,
tliat he shoukl cross the Urals into Siberia, promising to help him
in this enterprise with supplies of food and arms. Yermak entered
Siberia in 1580 with a band of 1636 men, following the Taghil and
Tura rivers. Ne.xt year they were on the Tobol, and 500 men suc-
cessfully laid siege to Isker, the residence of Khan Kutchum, in
the neiglibourhood of what is now Tobolsk. Kutchum fled to the
steppes, abandoning his domains to Yermak, who, according to
tradition, purchased by the present of Siberia to Ivan IV. his own
restoration to favour. Yermak was drowned in the Irtish in 1584,
»fter liaving been defeated by the Tatars. After his deatli the
Cossacks abandoned Siberia ; but new bands of hunters and adven-
turers, attracted by the furs,- poured every year into the country,
and were supported by regular troops from JIoscow. To avoid
conflicts with denser populations in the south, they preferred to
advance eastwards along higher latitudes; meanwhile Moscow sent
fresh detachments of troops under voirodes, who erected forts and
settled labourers around them to supply the garrisons with food,
gunpowder, and arms. Within eighty years the Russians had reached
the Amur and tlie Pacific. This rapid conquest is accounted for
by the circumstance that they met with no organized resistance :
they found only tlie Tatar Kutchnm on the Tobol, and in the
Altai the Turkish stocks under the Kalmuck Altyn Khan, the
centre of whose power was on the Kemtchik, and who collected
tribute from the Teleuts, Uryankhs, Telesse.s, Beltirs, Buruts
(Kirghiz), and othar smaller tribes. Neither Tatars nor Turks
could offer any serious resistance. When travelling down the
Yenisei in 1607-10 the Cossacks first encountered Tunguses, who
strenuously fought for their independence, but were at last subdued
about 1623. In 1628 the Russians reached the Lena, founded the
fort of Yakutskiy in 1637, and two years later reached the Sea of
Okhotsk at the mouth of the Ulia river. The Buriats off'ered some
opposition, but between 1631 and 1641 the Cossacks erected several
palisaded forts in their territory, and in 1648 the fort on the upper
Uda (Verkhne-Udinskiy Ostrog) beyond Lake Baikal. In 1643
PoyarkofTs boats descended the Amur, returning to Yakutsk by
the Sea of Okhotsk and the Aldan, and in 1649-50 KhabarotT oc-
cupied the course of the Amur. The resistance of the Chinese,
however, obliged the Cossacks to quit their forts, and by the treaty
of Nertchinsk (1689) Russia abandoned her advance into tlie basin
of the river.- In her anxiety to keep peace mth China and not
to endanger the Kiachta trade, Russia rigorously prohibited and
punished all attempts of the Siberians to advance farther towards
that river until 1855. In 1849 the Russian ship " Baikal " dis-
covered the estuary of the Amur; in 1851 the military post of
Nikolaievskiy was established at its mouth, and two years later
the post of Mariinsk near Lake Kizi. Ne.tt year a Russian military
expedition under Muravioif explored the Amur, and in 1857 a chain
of Russian Cossacks and peasants had already settled along the
whole course of the river. The accomplished fact was recognized
by China in 1857 and 1860 by a treaty. In the same year in which
Khabaroff' explored the Amur (1648) the Cossack Dejneff, starting
from the Kolyma, sailed round the north-eastern extremity of Asia
through the strait which was rediscovered and described eighty
years later by Behring (1728). Cook in 1778, and after him La
Perouse, settled definitively the broad features of the northern
Pacific coast. Although the Arctic Ocean had been reached as
early as the first half of the 17th century, the exploration of its
coasts by a series of expeditions under Ovtsyn, Minin, Prontchi-
scheff, Lasinius, and Laptefl'— whose labours constitute a brilliant
page in the annals of geographical discovery — was begun only in
the 18th century (1735-39).
The scientific exploration of Siberia hegun in the period 1733 to
1742 by Messerschmidt,Gmelin, and De Lisle de la Croyere was soon
followed up by Miiller, Fischer, and Georgi. Pallas, with several
Russian students, laid the first foundation of a thorough exploration
of the topography, fauna, flora, and inhabitants of the country. The
journeys of Hausteen and Erman (1828-33) were a most important
new step in the exploration of the territory. Humboldt, Ehrenberg,
and Gustav Rose also paid in the course of these years short visits
to Siberia, and gave a new impulse to the accumulation of scientific
knowledge ; while Ritter elaborated in his Asien the true founda-
tions of a sound knowledge of the structure of Siberia. Midden-
dorfl^s journey (1841-43) to north-eastern Siberia — contemporaneous
with Castren's journeys for the special study of the Ural-Altaian
liHiguages — directed attention to the far north and awakened in-
terest iD_the Amur, whose basin soon became the scene of the
expeditions of Akhte and Schwarz (1852), and later on (1854-57)
of the great Siberian expedition to whicli we owe so raaikcd an
advance in our knowledge of Eastern Siberia. The Siberian brancU
of the Russian Geographical Society was founded at the same time
at Irkutsk, and afterwards became a permanent centre for the ex-
ploration of Siberia; while the opening of the Amur and Saghaliu
attracted Maack, Schmidt, Glehn, Radde, and Schrenck, whose
works on the flora, fauna, and inhabitants of Siberia have become
widely known. '
BihUography.~(\) General.— The uniler-mentioned works of the explorers cf
the IStli century cont.iin rich sources of information not otlierwise obtainable.
Isbrand Ides, TraveUt IT05 ; Messerschmidt, Jieiee, 1781 ; Muller, Samtnlung
KnM. Ceschirhte (1730-37), Ejemyesyacltnyia ^ocMneniya (1757), and Hht, SUtch
of Siberia {Russ.)', Gnielin, Heise, 1751, and Flora Sibirica; Fischer, Sihirischt
Geschichte, 1774; Steller, Reise nach liamtchatla, 1771; Fries, Jleise. 1770-SO;
Georgi, Reise (1775), Geogr.-phys. Be:>ehreibitng des ICiiss. Reichs, and Beschr. der
£itt«;oAner(1799); Pallas, Voy. en Siberie (1773-83). Z^nc^vjhiu Rosso-Asiaticfi,
Saimnliing hist. Nachrichlen itbei- MoitgoliacheH yott:erscha/teni\776); AViie Konl-
ische Beilrane, and Keuesle Nord. Beilrage ; Falk, Reise, and Topographische Dei-
Irage, 17S3 :'Siever3, Briefe, 1796; Laxinann, Briefe, 1793: Cook, Voyage- to the
Pacijie, 1785 ; Stralilenberg, Der N. -und O.Theil Eiiropa's; Storcli, Ru^sische Riitf,
1803; Krasheninnikoff, Description of Kamchatka (Russ.), 178(j; Sarytcheff,
./owriiey (Russ.), 1802; Lesseps, Travels to Kaiiitchatt^n, 1790: the Voyages oi
Liitke, Kotsebue, Kittlitz, Krusenstern, and La Ptrouse ; Martynoff, Voyage pit-
tores'fue, 1823; Cochnnc, Pedestrian Jovrney, 1825; Klivostotf and Davydoff,
.Martos, and SlovtsofTs Journeys (Russ.), 1812 to 1S27 ; Hedenstrom, frognenli
on S/ftcria (Russ.), 1830; Ritter, Jsien, 1833, and Russian translations, with
appendices ; Slortsoff, Historical Sketch of Siberia (Russ.), 1838-44 ; Wrangel «ml
Anjou, Voyage to the Polar Sea, 1840; Erman, Reise nm die U'eit, 1833-42, awl
Archiv f. d. v;iss. Kunde "^- Riissland ; Lv-debour, Reise durch den Altai, 1829,
and Flora Atlaica, 1829-33 ; Rose, Reise nuch den Altai, 1837-43 ; Schurovskiy,
Journey to the Altai (Russ), 1846; TchiliatclietT, Voyage del' Altai, 1S4S ; Hel-
mersen, Reise nach dem Altai, 1848 ; Humbohit, Asie Venlrale, 1844 ; Stucken-
berg. Hydrographie, 1844 ; Cottrcll, Recollections, 1842 ; HofTiiiann, Reise mick
den Goldwiischereien, 1847 ; Hagemeister, Statisticid Sketch (Russ.), 1854 ; Gastrin,
Reiseberichle(\Si6), F.thnographische Vorlemngen uber die Altaischen V<)lker{lSil),
Nordiscke Reise und Forschungen (1853), and Briefe axis dein Altai ; .Miildendorlf.
Sibirische Reise, 1848-75 ; Sclirenck, Retsen nnd Forschungen tin A murlande, 1858-
80: Maximowicz, Primitia Florse Ainurensis, 1859, and many sutisequcnt monm
graphs; Ra<lile, Reiseherichte, 1861, and Reisen ini Siidosten Sibiriens, 1861-65;
Zavalishin, Description of West Siberia, 1860 ; >Iaack, Jonrney to the Amur, 1S61,
and Tht Usnri Region, 18»2 (both Russ); Trudy of the Siberian expedition.—
mathematical part (also geographical) by Schwarz, a,u". physical part by Schmidt,
Glehn, and Brylkio, 1S74-S?. ; Oswald Herr, "Miocane Flora von Sakhalin,"
in Mem. Ac. Sc. St Petersburg, 1S79 ; Wenukoff, Die Russisch-Asiatisclien Oreiu:-
lande, 1874, and Russia and the East (Russ.), 1877 ; Vagin Sibir, a collection of
papers (Russ.), 1879 ; Krivoshapkin, Yeniseisk District and its LifetRuss.), 1865 ;
Kennan, Tent Life in Siberia, 1870; Tretiakoff, The TuruOiansI: District, 1869;
Pavloff, Siberian Rifcrs, 1878 ; UsolT, Stat. Descr. of Sib. Cossacks, 1879 ; Finscli,
Reise uach H'est Sibirien, 1879; Seebohm, A Visit to the Valley of the Yenisei,
1879- Nonlenskiold, Voyage of the Vega, 1881, and Vega Erped. Velensk. laktta-
gelser, 18S2s}.; Winkler, Urat-Altaische Vdlker, 1882; Bogolubskiy, Minusinik
District, &c., 1884; Sperck, Russia of the Far East (Russ.), 1885 ; Economical
Situatixm of the Towns of Siberia, official publication (Russ.), 1879; Semenoff,
Geogr. and Stat. Dictionary of the Russian Empire, 5 Tols. (a most valuable
source of information, with full bibliographical details under each article);
Elisee Reclus, Geographic Universelle, vol. vi., " L'Asie Russe," also Russibk
translation with appendices ; Yadrintseff, Siberia as a Colony (Russ.), 1882 ;
Picturesque Russia (Russ.), ed. by P. Semenoff, vol. xi. (Western Siberia) and
xii. (Eastern Siberia); Schegloff, Chronology of Sib. Hist, from 1033 to ISs: ;
LevitofT, Guide to West Siberia (Russ.), 1883; Suvorin, Russkiy Kalendar (for
some statistics). The following periodicals contain important infonnation :—
Syevernyi Archiv, 1825; Sibirskiy Vyeslnik; 1818 sq.; Magasin Asialiq^te, 1825;
Melanges Asiatiques and .llel. Physiques tires du Bull, de I'Acid. d. Se. de
St Petersbourg ; Mimoires of the same ; the publications of the St Petersburg
Botanical Garden, and of the general staff; Barand Helmersen.iJcilrajf ; Erman,
Archiv; Historical Acts, 1846, and Addenda, 1846-75, official publications (Russ.) ;
Vyeslnik, Zapiski, and Izvestia of the Russian Geographical Society; Zaptskl
and Ureslia of the Eastern and Western Siberian branches of the same : Biillelin
de la Soc. des Katur. de Moscou ; levestia of the Society of Friends of Natural
Sciences at Moscow (for anthropology); Tn.ifi/ofthe Ural and St Petersburg
Society of Naturalists ; Slininf Journal ofSt Petersburg ; Verhandl. der Miner.
Ges.zu St Petersburg: MeteorolOgischerJahrbuch and yln»ci/e3of the Central Fhysi-
calObservatory ; Drevnyaya i Novaya Rossiya ; the medical and topographical
Sbomik, the Sbornik Sudebnoi Mediciny, and "The Health" (Zdorovie) conUin
most valuable contributions to the demography of Siberia ; the newspapers
.,4iiiur, Vosloduwie Obos:renie, and especially Sibir, now published at Irkutsk ;
Russische Revue ; Priroda, a popular review containing valuable information
about hunting; Pnnii/adit/ia A'nijtt (almanacs) of separate governments. The
official publication of the ministry of navy, Morskoi Sbomik. contains many
important contributions to the geography of Siberia, as also, occasionally, the
Voennyi Sbornik. Complete indexes by M. Mezhoff are published by the Geo-
graphical Society. . T^ ,, r t
(2) Flora and fauM.— Besides the works of Gmelin, Georgi, Pallas, Lede-
hour, Middendorfi', Maac'-i, Schrenck, Radde, Schmidt, Glehn, and Maximo-
wicz, sec a large number of monographs by Schmidt, Regel, Trautvetter,
Herder, Brandt, Polyakof.", Martj-nofT, Budisclieff, and many others sojlttered
through the publications of the Academy of Sciences.the St Petersburg Botanio*!
Gardel) the Society of Naturalists of Moscow, the Society of Friends of Natura
Sciences of Moscow, and the Geographical Societies of St Petersburg and
Irkutsk. Several of them are complete florvix of separate regions, or import-
ant monographs of separate classes.of the veg»table or animal kingdom, or lists
of plants and animals collected during separate journeys ; see also Tacaan-
owski's lists of birds in Bull, de la Soc Zool. de France, 1882. Mezhofl-s B.flio-
graphical Indoles, yearly published by the Geographical Society, and the Indexn
of the Kieff Society of Naturalists give full deUils. .. _
(3) (Jcoloou.— Geological obser\-ations occur in neariy all the above-mentioned
works of travel and serial publications. Of recent monographs the following,
published in periodical publications, may be mentioned ;— Meglftzky, m Verit.
der Miner. Ges. zu St Petersburg, 1856 ; Schmidt, " Mammuth Reise, in Mem. of
SI Petersburg Ac; Lopatin. on the Vitim, Yenisei, and Krasnoyarsk, in^f"""'^
Journal and swials of the St Petersburg and East Siberian Gf graP*'"*}
Society ; Czekanowski, in Mem. Ac of Sciences ; Czerski (map of fhotej or
Baikal), in Izvestia. East Siberian Geographical Society, and several papers,
especially on mining districts, in the Gornyi Journal.
(4) £(ft7io!ojy.-Slovtsoff, History of Siberia; Shashkotr, a senes of papers on
le "Indigenous Races of Siberia," "The Native Question "SerfdoK id
jeria," " Historical Sketches," in various reviews ; Polyakoff, Journen to |m
(translated intt German); Schapoff. In various historical works and in
the
S I B — S I JB
13
the In^estia of the Siberian Geographical Society ; Samokvasoff. Customary Tmw
0/ Siberian Indigent, 1S76 ; l^apers in Otetrheslvennyia Zapiski, vols, ccxxxix.
and ccxciii.; Yadrintseff, Sibrriu, ISS'i. Argentoff and Kostrotf in the serials
of the Geogr. Soc. give information about the present state of the indigenes
and their relations to Russia.
(5) £ii/e.— Maxilnoff, ifiberiaand Hard labour, 1871 ; Foinitzky, Adtninislra-
tiono/Exiley 1879; Vagin, "Historical Documents on Siberia." in the collection
Sibir, vol. i.; Nikitin, "Prisons and the Prisons Question," in Rvsskiy Vyestnik.
1878; Mishlo, "On Siberian Prisons," In Olelch. Zapiski, 18S1 ; Yadrintseif,
Siberia as a Colony, 1832 ; Dostoievsky, Buried AUve^ 1881 ; Rosen, ilfemoircn
tints Dixabristen^ 1870. (P. A. K.)
SIBSAGAE, or Seebs.\ugor, a British district of India,
m the upper valley of the province of Assam, lying be-
tween 26° 19' and 27° 16' N. lat. and 93° 21' and 95° 25'
E. long., and covering an area of 2855 square miles. It
is bounded on the N. and E. by Lakhimpur district, on
the S. by independent NAgd territory, and on the W. by
the Nowgong and NigA Hills districts. SibsAgar consists
of a level plain, much overgrown with gra-ss and jungle,
and intersected by numerous tributaries of the Brahma-
putra. It is divided by the little stream Disai into two
tracts, which differ in soil and general appearance. The
surface of the eastern portion is very flat, the general level
being broken only by the long lines of embankments
rai.sed by the Aham kings to serve both as roadways and
as a protection against floods. The soil consists of a
heavy loam of a whitish colour, which is well adapted for
rice cultivation. West of the Disai, though the surface
soil 16 of the same character, the general aspect is diver-
sified by the protrusion of the subsoU, which consists of
a stiff clay abounding in iron nodules, and is furrowed by
frequent ravines and water-courses, which divide the cul-
tivable fields into innumerable small sunken patches or
fiolas. The chief river is the Brahmaputra, which is navi-
gable throughout the year by steamers and large native
craft. The navigable tributaries of the Brahmaputra
comprise the Dhaneswari, the Burl Dihing, the Disang,
and the Dikhu, all flowing in a northerly direction from
the Niigil Hills. Included within the district is the island
of Jfaguli, which is said to have been formed by the silt
brought down by the Subansiri river from the HimAlayas
and deposited in the wide channel of the Brahmaputra.
Coal, iron, petroleum, and salt are found in the district.
Wild beasts of all kinds abound, including the elephant,
rhinoceros, tiger, buffalo, and deer. The climate, like that
of the rest of the Assam valley, is comparatively mild
and temperate, and the average annual rainfall is about
94 inches.
In 18S1 the population of Silwigar was 370,274 (males 195,194,
females 175,080), of whom Hindus numbered 339.663, Moham-
medans 15,665, hill tribes 13,S29, and Christians 804. The only
place of more than 5000 inhabitants is SiBsXnAli (see below). Of
the total area 359,225 acres were under cultivation in 1833-84,
besides 78,710 acres of forests. The staple product is rice, which
yields two crops in the year ; tea is also extensively /i^own,
Sibsilgar being second only to Cachar among the tea -growing
districts of India; other crops incUule food -grains, pulses, oil-
seeds, sugar-cane, and cinchona. Tlic local industries are limited
to the weaving of silk and cotton cloth, the making of brass and
IwU-mctal utensils, and coarse pottery. The principal exports are
tea, silk, mustard-seed, cotton, and jungle products ; the imports
include salt, oil, opium, f>iece-goods, and miscellaneous hardware.
On the decline of the Aham dynasty Sibsilgar, with tlie rest of
the Assam valley, fell into the hands of tlie. Burmese. They were
expelled by the British in 1823, and in the following year the
valley was annexed to British India. The British, however, were
indisposed to undertake the responsibilities of adnunistration be-
yond what seemed absolutely necessary. The country now forming
Sibsiigar district, together with the southern portion of Lakhimpur,
was placed under the rule of Raja Purandbar Sinh, on his agreeing
to pay an annual tribute of £5000. Owing to the raja's misrule,
Sib3.-igar was reduced to a state of great jiovcrty, and, as he was
unable to pay the annual tribute, the territories were resumed by
the Government of India, and in 1838 Sibsigar was placed under
the diicct management of a Briti-sh officer. The tea industry soon
brought back prosperity, and the Sib.sagar peasants now rank
aiiiong the most contented and wealthy in Assam.
SIBSAGAR, chief town and civil headquarters of the
above district, is situated about 1 1 miles south from tha
Brahmaputra, being picturesquely placed around a magni-
ficent tank covering an area of 114 acres. Besides the
houses of the civil officials, it possesses a straggling bazaar,
in which a brisk business is carried on during the cold
season with the neighbouring hill tribes. In 1881 the
population of the town was 5868.
SIBYL. Certain women who prophesied under the in-
spiration of a deity were called by the Greeks Sibyls. The
inspiration manifested itself outwardly in distorted features,
foaming mouth, and frantic gestures. The notion that
hysterical, convulsive, and eiiileptic affections are proof of
divine inspiration has been common all over the world (see
Tylor's Primitive Cpdture, iL p. 131 s'/.). Homer does not
refer to a Sibyl, nor docs Herodotus. The first Greek
writer, so far as we know, who does so is Heraclitus
(flourished about 500 B.C.). As to the number and native
countries of the Sibyls much diversity of opinion prevailed,
as is evinced by the contradictory statements of ancient
writers. Aristophanes, Plato, and the author of the 6m'-
[idata aKova-fjLara, attributed to Aristotle, appear to know
of only one Sibyl. Heraclides Ponticus, a pupil of Plato,
seems to be the first writer who distinguished several
Sibyls, — the Erythraean, the Phrygian, and the Helles-
pontine. Later writers speak of two, three, four, eight,
ten, and twelve. Pausanias (x. 12) enumerates four. Ac-
cording to him, the oldest was the Libyan ' Sibyl, a
daughter of Zeus and Lamia. The second was Hero-
phile, a native of Marpessus or Erythrse in the Troad ;
she lived mostly in Samos, but visited Clarus, Delos,
and Delphi. She lived before the Trojan War, which
she is said to have predicted. The third was the Sibyl
of Cumse in Italy, and the fourth was a Hebrew Sibyl
called Sabbe ; others, however, called the last-mentioned
Sibyl a Babylonian or Egyptian. According to Plutarch
(De Pyth. Orac.^ 9), the first Sibyl was she of Delphi.
Varro enumerates ten Sibyls, — the Persian, Libyan, Del-
phic, Cimmerian, Erythrasan, Saniian, Cuman, Hellespont-
ine, Phrygian, and Tiburtine. The Sibyl of whom we
hear most was the Sibyl of Cunisj, wh5m /Eneas con-
sulted before his descent to Hades. She was supposed to
live 1000 years. It was she who sold to Tarquin the
Proud the Sibylline books. She first offered him nine ;
when he refused them, she burned three and offered him
the remaining six at the same price ; when he again re-
fused them, she burned three more and offered him the re-
maining three still at the same price. Tarquin then bought
them. They were entrusted to a college of fifteen men
{quindecemiiri sacris faciundis), who preserved them and
consulted them on occasions of national danger. It would
seem that they were consulted with a view to discover, not
exact predictions of definite future events, but the religious
observances necessary to avert extraordinary calamities and
expiate prodigies. They were written in hexameter verse
and in Greek ; hence the college of curators was always
assisted by two Greek interpreters. The books were kept
ill the temiiie of Jupiter on the Capitol and shared the
destruction of the temple by fire in 83 B.C. After the
restoration of the temple the senate sent ambassadors in
76 to Erythnn to collect the oracles afresh and they brought
back about 1000 verses; others were collected in Ilium,
Samos, Sicily, Italy, and Africa. In the year 12 Augustus
.sought out and burned a great many spurious oracles and
subjected the Sibylline books to a critical revision ; they
were then placed by him in the temple o( Apollo Patrous,
where we hear of them stifl cxi.sting in 3G3. They seem
to have been burned by Stilicho shortly after 400. Accord-
ing to the researches of Klausen (jEneas und die Penates,
' There is a gap in the text of Pausanliis, and his meaning U not
aott* certain.
14
S I B — S J C
Hamburg, 1839-40), the oldest collection' of Sibylline
oracles appears to have been made about the time of
Solon and Cyrus at Gergis on Mount Ida in the Troad ;
it was attributed to the Sibyl of Marpessus and was pre-
served in the temple of Apollo at Gergis. Thence it
passed to Erythrse, where it became famous. It was this
very collection, it would appear, which found itajyay to
Cumae-and from Cumae to Rome.
The collection of so-called Sihylline oracles which has d cenileJ
to us is obviously spurious, bearing marks of Jewish and Christian
origin. Ewald assigns the oldest of them to about l"2i B.C. and
the latest to about 668-672 A.D. They have been edited by Fried-
lieb (Leipsic, 1852) and Alexandre {2d ed., Paris, 1869). For an
examinatiou of the different lists of Sibyls, see E. ilaass, Di Sibyl-
lanim Indicibus, Berlin, 1879.
SIBYLLINE BOOKS.
TCEE, vol.ii. n. 177.
See Apocalyptic Liteea-
SICILY
Part I. — History.
SICILY, slightly surpassed by Sardinia in superficial
extent, is, in its geographical and historical position,
the greatest island of the Mediterranean. As such it holds
among European lands a position answering to that of Great
Britain, the greatest island of the Ocean, and the events of
their history have at more than one period brought the two
islands into a close connexion with one another. I'he geo-
graphical position of Sicily (see vol. xiii. pi. IV.) led almost
as a matter of necessity to its historical position, as the meet-
ing-place of the nations, the battle-field of contending races
and creeds. ' Lying nearer to the mainland of Europe and
nearer to Africa than any other of the great Mediterranean
islands, Sicily is, next to Spain, the connecting link between
chose two quarters of the world. It stands also as a break-
water betweeii-the eastern and western divisions of the Medi-
terranean Sea. In pr<e-historic times those two divisions
were two vast lakes, and Sicily Is a surviving fragment of
the land which once parted the two united seas and united
the continents which are now distinct That Sicily and
Africa were once joined we know only from modern scien-
tific research ; that Sicily and Italy were once joined is
handed down in legend, unless the legend itself is not rather
an obvious guesS. Sicily then, comparatively near to Africa,
but much nearer to Europe, has been a Europeap land, but
one specially open to invasion and settlement from Africa.
Dividing the eastern and western basins of the Mediter-
ranean, it has been a part of western Europe, but a part
which has had specially close relations with eastern Europe.
It has stood at various times in close connexion with Greece,
with Africa, and with Spain ; but its closest connexion has
been with the neighbouring land of Italy. Still Italy and
Sicily are thoroughly distinct lands, and the history of
Sicily should never be looked on as simply part of the
history of Italy. Lying thus between Europe and Africa,
Sicily has been the battle-field of Europe and Africa. That
is to say, it has been at two separate periods the battle-field
of Aryan and Semitic man. In the later stage of the
strife it has been the battle-field of Christendom and Islam.
This history Sicily shares with Spain to the' west of it and
with Cyprus to the east. And with Spain the island has
had several direct points of connexion. There was in all
likelihood a near kindred between the earliest inhabitants
of the two lands. In later times Sicily was ruled by
Spanish kings, both alone and in union with other king-
doms. The connexion with Africa has consisted simply
in the settlement of conquerors from Africa at two periods,
arst Phoenician, then Saracen. " On the other- hand Sicily
has been more than once made the road to African con-
quest and settlement, both by Sicilian princes and by the
Roman masters of Sicily. The connexion with Greece,
the most memorable of all, has consisted in the settlement
of many colonies from old Greece, which gave the island
the most brilliant part of its history, and which made the
greater part practically Greek. This Greek element was
strengthened at a later time by the long connexion of
Sicily with the Eastern, the Greek-speaking, division 'of
the Roman empire. And the influence of Greece on
Sicily has been repaid in more than one shape by Sicilian
rulers who have at various times held influence and
dominion in Greece and elsewhere beyond the Hadriatic
(Adriatic). The connexion between Sicily and Italy begins
with the primitive kindred between some of the' oldest
elements in each. Then came the contemporary Greek
colonization in both lands. Then came the tendency in the
dominant powers in southern Italy to make their way into
Sicily also. Thus the Roman occupation of Sicily ended
the struggle between Greek and Phcenician. Thus the
Norman occupation ended the struggle between Greek and
Saracen. Of this last came the long connexion between
Sicily and southern Italy under several dynasties. Lastly
comes the late absorption of Sicily in the modern -kingdooi
of Italy. The result of these various forms of Italian
influence has been that all the other tongues of the island
have died out before the advance of a peculiar dialect of
Italian. In religion again both Islam and the Eastern
form of Christianity have given way to its Italian form.
The connexion with England amounts to this, that both
islands came under Norman dynasties, that under Norman
rule the intercourse between the two countries was ex-
tremely close, and that the last time that Sicily was_the
seat of a separate power it was under British protection.
The Phcenician, whether from old Phcenicia or from Car-
thage, came from lands which were mere strips of sea-coast
with a boundless continent behind them. The Greek of
old Hellas came from a land of islands, peninsulas, and
inland, seas. So did the Greek of Asia, though he had,
like the- Phcenician, a vast continent behind him. In Sicily
they all found a strip of sea-coast with an inland region
behind ; but the strip of sea-coast was not like the broken
coast of Greece and Greek Asia, and the inland region was
not a boundless continent like Africa or Asia. In Sicily
therefore the Greek became more continental, and the Phoe-
nician became more insular, than either nation had been in
its own land. Neither people ever occupied the whole island :
the presence of the other hindered either from occupying
even the whole Of the coast; nor was either people ever able
to spread its dominion over the earlier inhabitants very
far inland. Sicily thus remained a world of its own, with
interests and disputes of its own, and divided among in-
habitants of various nations. The history of the Greeks
of Sicily is constantly connected with the history of old
Hellas, but it runs a separate course of its o-wn. Their
position answers somewhat to that of the English people
of the United States with regard to the mother-country
of Great Britain. It differs in this, that the independence
of the Greek cities in Sicily was not the'result of warfare
with the mother-country. Otherwise the analogy would
have been almost exact, if France or SpaJJi had kept its old
power in North America.' The Phoenician element ran an
opposite course, as the independent Phcenician settlements
in Sicily sank into dependencies of Carthage. The entrance
of the Romans put an end to all practical independence on
the part of either nation. But Roman ascendency did not
affect Greeks and Phoenicians in the same wax, Phoeniciar
histoky]
SICILY
15
life gradually died out. But Roman ascendency nowhere
cru'slieil out Greek life wliere it already existed, and in
some ways it strengthened it. Though the j3reeks never
spread their dominion over the island, they made a peace-
ful conquest of it. This process -jfas in no way hindered
by the L'omau dominion ; the work of assimilation went
on -still faster.
The question now comes, Who were the original inhabit-
ants of Sicily 1 The island itself, SixeXia, Sicilia, plainly
takes its name from the Sikels (ItKeXol, Siculi), a people
whom we find occupying a great part of the island, chiefly
cast of the river Gela. They appear also in Italy, in the
tpc of the boot, and older history or tradition spoke of
them as having in earlier days held a large place in Latium
and elsewhere in central Italy. They were believed to
have crossed the strait into the island about 300 years
'«fore the beginning of the Greek settlements, that is to
say in the 11th century B.C. They found in the island
a people called Sikans (SiKarai, Sicani), whose name might
j)ass for a dialectic form of their own, did not the ancient
writers straitly affirm them to be a wholly distinct people,
akin to the Iberians. Sikans also appear with the Ligurians
among the early inhabitants of Italy (Virg., yEii., vii. 795,
viii. 328, xi. 317, and Servius's note). It is possible then
that the likeness of name is accidental, that the Sikels
belonged to the same branch of the Aryan family as the
Italians, while Sikans, like Ligurians and Iberians and
the surviving Basques, belonged to the earlier non-Aryan
population of western Europe. But, whatever the origin of
either, in the history of the island Sikans and Sikels appear
as two distinct nations with a clear geographical boundary.
And we may venture to set down the Sikels as undeveloped
Latins, who were hindered by .the coming of the Greeks from
reaching tlie same independent national life as their kinsfolk
in Italy, and, instead of so doing, were gradually Hellenized.
On the other hand, sc.ne Slkel elements made their way into.
the Greek life cf Sicily. That the Sikels spoke a tongue
closely akin to Latin io'jMn from several Sikel words which
crept into Sicilian Greek, and from the Sikeliot system of
weights and measures, — utterly unliKi anything in old
Greece. When the Greek settlements bt'^'an, the Sikans
Lad hardly got beyond the life of villages on hill-tops (Dion.
Hal., V. 6), more truly perhaps villages with pla.:es of shelter
on theliiU-tops. The more advanced Sikels had their hill-
forts also, but they had learned the advantages of the sea,
and they already had settlements on the coast wlien the
Greeks came. As we go on, we hear of both Sikel and
Sikan towns ; but we may suspect that any approach to
true city life was owing to Greek influences. Neither
IKOjjle grew into any form of national unity. There was
neither common king nor common confederation either of
Sikels or of Sikans. They were therefore partly subdued,
l>artly assimilated, slowly, but without much effort.
In the north-east corner of the island we find a small
territory occupied by a people who seem to have made
much greater advances towards civilized life. The Eiymoi
were a people of uncertain origin, but they claimed a
mixed descent, partly Trojan, partly Greek. Thucydides
liowever unhesitatingly reckons them among barbarians.
They had considerable towns, as Segesta (the Greek Egesta)
and Eryx, and the whole history, as well as the remains, of
Scgosta, shows that Greek influences prevailed among them
very early. In short, we find in the island three nations
distinct from the Greeks, two of which at least easily
r.dopted Greek culture and came in the end to pass for
Greeks by adoption.
But, as we have already seen, the Greeks ■were not the
first colonizing people who <vero drawn to the great island.
, As in Cyprus and in the islands of the iEgocan, the
Phoenicians were before them. And it is from this presence
of the highest forms of Aryan and of Semitic man that
the history of Sicily draws its highest interost. Of
rhcenician occupation there are two, or rather three,
marked periods. We must always remember that Carthage
—the new city^was one of the latest of Phoenician founda-
tions, and that the days of the Carthaginian dominion
show us only the latest form of Phoenician life. Phoe-
nician settlement in Sicily began before Carthage became
great, perhaps before Carthage came into being. A crowd
of small settlements from the old Phoenicia, settlements
for trade rather than for dominion, factories rather than
colonies, grew up on promontories and small islands all
round the Sicilian coast. These were unable to withstand
the Greek settlers, and the Phoenicians of Sicily withdrew
step bystep to form three considerable towns in the north-
west corner of the island, — ^lotye, Soloeis or Solunto, on a
hill overhanging the sea on the north coast, and the great
Panormos, the all-haven (see Palermo), the city destined
to be, in two different i)eriod3 of the world's history, the
head of Semitic power in Sicily.
Our eailier notices of Sicily, of Sikels and Sikans, in the
Homeric poems and elsewhere, are vague and legendary.
Both races appe'ar as given to the buying and selling of
slaves {OJ., xx. 383, xxiv. 30, 210). The intimate con-
nexion between old Hellas and Sicily begins with the
foundation of the Sicilian Naxos by Chalkidians of Euboia
under Theokles, which is assigned to the year 735 B.C.
The site, a low promontory on the east coast, immediately
below the height of Tauromenion, marks an age which had
advanced beyond the hill -fortress and which thoroughly
valued the sea. The next year Corinth began her system
of settlement in the west : Korkyra (Corcyra), the path to
Sicily, and Syracuse on the Sicilian coast were planted as
parts of one enterprise. From this time, for about 150 years,
Greek settlement in the island, with some intervals, goes
steadily on. Both Ionian and Dorian colonies were planted,
both from the older Greek lands and from the older Sicilian
settlements. The east coast, nearest to Greece and richest
in good harbours, was occupied first. Here, between
Naxos and Syracuse, arose the Ionian cities of Leontinoi
and Katana (Catina, Catania) and the Dorian Jlegara by
Hybla. Settlement on the south-western coast "began
about 088 B.C. with the joint Cretan and Rhodian settle-
ment of Gela, and went on in the foundation of Selinous
(the most distant Greek city on this side), of Kaniarinsi
(Camarina), and in 588 b.o. of the Geloan settlement of
Akragas (Agrigentum, Girgenti), planted on a high hill, a
little way from the sea, which became the second city of
Hellenic Sicily. On the north coast the Ionian Himera
was the only Greek city in Sicily itself, but the Knidians
founded Lipara in the jEolian Islands. At the north-east
corner, opposite to Italy, and commanding the strait, arose
Zankle, a city of uncertain date and mixed origin, better
known under its later name of Messana (Messenc, Messina).
Thus nearly all the east coast of Sicily, a great part of
the south coast, and a much smaller part of the north,
passed into the hands of Greek settlers, — Sikeliots (Si«t-
AiwTui), as distinguished from the native Sikels. This was
one of the greatest advances ever made by the Greek people.
The Greek element began to be predominant in the island:
Among the carlidr inhabitants the Sikels were already be-
coming adopted Greeks. Many of them gradually sank
into a not wholly unwilling subjection as cultivators of the
soil under Greek masters, — a relation cmBodicd perhaps in
the legend that a native Sikel prince led the Greek settlers
to the foundation of Megara. But there were also inde-
pendent Sikel towns in the interior, and there was a strong
religious intercommunion between the two races. Sikel
Henna (Ennn, Castrogiovanni) is the special seat of the
worshii) of Denietcr and her daughter. The Sikans, on
16
SICILY
[histoey.
the other hand, seem more distinct and more steadily
hostile. The Phoenicians, now shut up in one corner of
the island, with Selinous on one side and Himera on the
other founded right in their teeth, are bitter enemies ; but
the time of their renewed greatness under the headship of
Carthage has not yet come. The 7th century B.C. and the
early part of the 6th were a time in which the Greek
cities of Sicily had their full share in the general prosperity
of the Greek colonies everywhere. For a while they out-
ttripped the cities of old Greece. Their political constitu-
tions were aristocratic ; that is, the franchise was confined
to the descendants of the original settlers, round whom an
excluded body (8>j^os orptebs) was often growing up. The
lincient kingship w£is perhaps kept on or renewed in some
of the Sikeliot and Italiot towns ; but it is more certain
that civil dissensions led very early to the rise of tyrants.
The first and most famous is Phalaris of Akragas, whose
exact date is uncertain, whose letters are now cast aside,
and whose brazen bull has been called in question, but
who clearly rose to power very soon after the foundation
of Akragas. Under his rule the city at once sprang to
the first place in Sicily, and he was the first Sikeliot ruler
who held dominion over two Greek cities, Akragas and
Himera. This time of prosperity was also a time of intel-
lectual progress. To say nothing of lawgivers like Char-
ondas, the line of Sikeliot poets began early, and the cir-
cumstances of the island, the adoption of many of its local
traditions and beliefs — perhaps a certain intermingling of
native blood — gave the intellectual life of Sicily a char-
acter in some things distinct from that of old Hellas.
Stesichoros of Himera (c. 632-556 B.C.) holds a great place
among the lyric poets of Greece, and some place in the
political history of Sicily as the opponent of Phalaris.
The architecture and sculpture of this age have also left
some of their most remarkable monuments among the
Greek cities of Sicily (see Syracuse). The remains of the
old temples of Selinous, attributed to the 7th century B.C.,
show us the Doric style in its earlier state, and the sculp-
tures of their metopes (preserved at Palermo) are as dis-
tinctly grotesque as any Kpmanesque sculpture of the
11th or 12th century. In both ages the art of the builder
was far in advance of that of the ornamental carver.
This first period of Sicilian history lasts as long as Sicily
remains untouched from any non-Hellenic quarter outside,
and as long as the Greek cities in SicUy remain as a rule
independent of one another. A change begins in the 6th
century and is accomplished early in the 5th. The Phoeni-
cian settlements in Sicily become dependent on Carthage,
whose growing power begins to be dangerous to the Greeks
of Sicily. Meanwhile the growth of tyrannies in the
Greek cities was beginning to group several towns together
under a single master, and thus to increase the greatness
of particular cities at the expense of their freedom. Thus
Theron of Akragas (488-472), who bears a good character
there, acquired also, like Phalaris, the rule of Himera, One
such power held dominion both in Italy and Sicily.
Anaxilaos of Rhegion, by a long and strange tale of
treachery, occupied Zankle and changed its name to Mes-
sana. But the greatest of the Sikeliot powers began at
Gela in 505, and was in 485 translated by Gelon to Syra-
cuse. That city now became the centre of a greater
dominion over both Greeks and Sikels than the island had
sver before seen. But Gelon, like several later tyrants of
Syracuse, takes his place — and it is the redeeming point
in the position of all of them^as the champion of Hellas
against the barbarian. The great double invasion of 480
B.C. was planned in concert by the barbarians of the East and
theWest(Diod.,xi.20; schol. on Pind.,Py/A.,i. 146; Grote,
V. 294). While the Persians threatened old Greece, Carth-
age threatened the Greeks of Sicily. There were Sikeliots
who played the part of the Medizers in Greece : Selinous
was on. the side of Carthage, and the coming of Hamilkar
was immediately brought about by a tyrant of Himera
driven out by Theron. But the vmited power of Gelon
and Theron crushed the invaders in the great battle of
Himera, won, men said, on the same day as Salamis, and
the victors of both were coupled as the joint deliverers of
Hellas (Herod., vii. 165-167; Diod., xx. 20-25; Find.,
Pyth., i. 147-156; Simonides, fr. 42; Polyainos, i. 27).
But, while the victory of Salamis was followed by a long
war with Persia, the peace which was now granted to
Carthage stayed in force for seventy years. Gelon was
followed by his brother Hieron (478-467), the special
subject of the songs of Pindar. Akragas meanwhile
flourished under Theron ; but a war between him and
Hieron led to slaughter and new settlement a;t Himera.
These transplantings from city to city began under Gelon
and went on under Hieron. They made speakers in old
Greece (Thuc, vi. 17) contrast the permanence of habi-
tation there with the constant changes in Sicily. Hieron
won the fame of a founder by peopling Katana with new
citizens, and changing its name to Aitna.
None of these tyrannies were long-lived. The power' ef
Theron fell to pieces under his son Thrasydaios. 'When
the power of Hieron passed in 467 B.C. to fiis brother
Thrasyboulos the freedom of Syracuse was won by a
combined movement of Greeks and Sikels, and the Greek
cities gradually settled down as they had been before the
tyrannies, only with a change to democracy in their con-
stitutions. The mercenaries who had received citizenship
from the tyrants were settled at Messana. About fifty
years of general prosperity followed. We have special
pictures of almost incredible wealth and luxury at Akra-
gas, chiefly founded on an. African trade. ^Moreover art,
science, poetry, had all been encouraged by the tyrants,
and they went on flourishing in the free states. To these
was now added the special growth of freedorn, the art
of public speaking. Epicharmos (540-450), carried as a
babe to Sicily, is a link between native Sikeliots and
the strangers invited by Hieron ; as the founder of the
local Sicilian comedy, he ranks among Sikeliots. After
him Sophron of Syracuse gave the Sicilian mimes a place
among the forms of Greek poetry. But the intellect of free
Sicily struck out higher paths. Empedokles of Akragac is
best known from the legends of his miracles and of his death
in the fires of jEtna ; but he was not the less philosopher,
poet, and physician, besides his political career. It is
vaguely implied (Diog. Laert., viii. 2, 9) that he refused
an ofi'er of the tyranny or of authority in some shape.
Gorgias of Leontinoi (c. 480-375) had a still more direct
influence on Greek culture, as father of the technical schools
of rhetoric throughout Greece. Architecture too advanced,
and the Doric style gradually lost somewhat of its ancient
massiveness. The temple at Syracuse which is now the
metropolitan church belongs to the earlier days of this
time. It is followed by the later temples at Selinous,
among them the temple of Zeus, which is said to have
been the greatest in Sicily, and by the wonderful series at
Akragas, crowned by the Olympian temple, with its many
architectural singularities. This, like its fellow at Selinous,
was not fully finished at the time of the Carthaginian inroad
at the end of the century.
During this time of prosperity there was no dread of Coml
Carthaginian inroads. But in 454 B.C. we read of a. war ^™ ^
between Segesta and Lilybaion (Lilybsum). There was as ^^j*"
yet no town of Lilybaion; but, if the war was waged gi^m
against any Phoenician settlement, the fact is to be noticed,
as hitherto Segesta has been allied with the Phoenicians
against the Greeks. Far more important are our notices
of the eadier inhabitants. For now comes the great Sikel
HISTORY.]
SICILY
17
movement under Douketios, who, between force and per-
suasion, came nearer towards uniting his people into one
body than had ever been done before. From his native
hill-top of Menai, rising above the lake dedicated to the
Palikoi, the native deities whom Sikels and Greeks alike
honoured, he brought down his people to the new city of
Palikp) in the plain. His power grew, and Akragas could
withstand him only by the help of Syracuse. Alternately
victorious and defeated, spared by Syracuse (451), sent to
be safe at Corinth, he came back to Sicily only to form
greater plans than before. War between Akragas and
Syracuse enabled him to carry out his schemes, and, with
the help of another Sikel prince who bore the Greek name
of Archomides, he founded Kale Akte on the northern
coast. But his work was cut short by his death in 440 ;
the hope of the Sikel people now lay in assimilation to
their Hellenic neighbours. Douketios's own foundation
of Kale Akte lived on, and we presently hear of Sikel
towns under kings and tyrants, all marking an approach
to Greek life. Roughly speaking, while the Sikels of
the plain country on the east coast became subject to
Syracuse, most of those in other parts of the island re-
mained independent. Of the Sikans we hear less; but
Hykkara in the north-west was an independent Sikan
town on bad terms with Segesta. On the whole, setting
aside the impassable barrier between Greek and Phoenician,
other distinctions of race within the island were breaking
down through the spread of the Hellenic element. Segesta
was on familiar terms with both Greek and Phoenician
neighbours, and had the right of intermarriage (Thuc, vi.
6) with Hellenic Selinous. Among the Greek cities them-
selves the distinction between the Dorian and the Ionian
or Chalkidian settlements is still keenly felt. The Ionian is
decidedly the weaker element; and it was most likely owing
to the rivalry between ihe two great Dorian cities of
Syracuse and Akragas that the Chalkidian towns were able
to keep any independence at all.
Up to this time the Italiot and Sikeliot Greeks have
formed part of the general Greek world, while within that
world they have formed a world of their own, and Sicily
has again formed a world of its own within that. Wars
and conquests between Greeks and Greeks, especially on
the part of Syracuse, though not wanting, have been on
the whole less constant than in old Greece. It is even
possible to appeal to a vein of local Sicilian patriotism, to
preach a kind of Monroe doctrine by which Greeks from
other lands should be shut out as strangers {uLXX6<f>vXoi,
Thuc, vi. 61, 74). Presently this state of Sicilian isolation
was broken in upon by the great Peloponnesian War. The
Sikeliot cities were drawn into alliance with one side or
the other, till the main interest of Greek history gathers
for a while round the Athenian attack on Syracuse. At
the very beginning of the war the Lacedaemonians looked
for help from the Dorian Sikeliots. But the first active
intervention came from the other side. Conquest in Sicily
was a favourite dream at Athens (Thuc, vi. 1, cf. i. 48,
and Diod., xii. 54), with a view to wider conquest or influ-
ence in the western Mediterranean. An opportunity for
Athenian interference was found in 427 in a -quarrel be-
tween Syracuse and Leontinoi and their allies. Leontinoi
craved help from Athens on the ground of Ionian kindred.
Her envoy was Gorgias ; his peculiar style of rhetoric was
now first heard in old Greece (Diod., xii. 53, 54), and his
pleadings were successful. For several years from this
time (427-422) Athens plays a part, chiefly unsuccessful,
in Sicilian affairs. But the particular events are of little
importance, except as leading the way to the greater
events *liat follow. The steadiest ally of Athens wa.s the
Italiot Ilhegion ; Messana, with its mixed population, v/as
repeatedly won and lost ; the Sikel tributaries of Syracuse
122-2
give zealous help to the Athenians. But in 424 all the
Sikeliot and most of the Italiot cities, under the guidance
of Hermokrates of Syracuse, who powerfully set forth the
doctrine of Sikeliot, perhaps of Sicilian unity, agreed on
a peace. Presently an internal disturbance at Leontinoi
led to annexation by Syracuse. This gave the Athenians
a pretext for another attempt in 422. Little came of it,
though Athens was joined by the Doric cities of Kamarina
and Akragas, clearly out of jealousy towards Syracuse.
For several years the island was left to itself.
The far more memorable interference of Athens in
Sicilian affairs in the year 415 was partly in answer to
the cry of the exiles of Leontinoi, partly to a quite
distinct appeal from the Elymian Segesta. That city, an
ally of Athens, asked for Athenian help against its Greek
neighbour Selinous. In a dispute, partly about bound-
aries, partly about the right of intermarriage between the
Hellenic and the Hellenizing city, Segesta was hard pressed.
She vainly asked for help at Akragas — some say at Syra-
cuse (Diod., xii. 82) — and even at Carthage. The last
appeal was to Athens. But the claims of Segesta and
Leontinoi are soon forgotten in the struggle for Life and
death between Syracuse and Athens.
The details of the great Athenian expedition (415-413) AthenUa
belong iiartly to the political history of Athens, partly to eipedl-
that of Syracuse (q.v.). But its results make it a marked ''°°'
epoch in Sicilian history, and the Athenian plans, if suc-
cessful, would have changed the whole face of the West.
If the later stages of the struggle were remarkable for the
vast number of Greek cities engaged on both sides, and
for the strange inversion of relations among them on which
Thucydides (-vii. 57, 58) comments, the whole war was yet
more remarkable for the large entrance of the barbarian
element into the Athenian reckonings. The war was
undertaken on behalf of Segesta ; the Sikels gave Athens
valuable help ; the greater barbarian powers out of Sicily
also came into play. Some help actually came from
Etruria. But Carthage was more far-sighted. If Syra-
cuse was an object of jealousy, Athens, succeeding to her
dominion, creating a power too nearly alike to her own,
would have provoked far greater jealousy. So Athens
found no active support save at Naxos and Katana,
though A'^ragas, if she would not help the invaders, at
least gave no help to her own rival. The war is instruct-
ive in many ways : it reminds us of the general conditions
of Greek seamanship when we find that Kork3ra was the
meeting-place for liie allied fleet, and that Syracuse was
reached only by a coasting voyage along the shores of
Greek Italy. We are struck also by the low military level
of the Sicilian Greeks. The Syracusan heavy-armed are
as far below those of Athens as those of Athens are below
those of Sparta. The qnasi-contincntai character of Sicily
causes Syracuse, with its havens and its island, to be
looked on, in comparison with Athen.s, as a land power
(v/7r€i/5(uTai, Thuc, vii. 21). That is to say, the Sikeliot
level represents the general Greek level as it stood before
the wars in which Athens won and defended her dominion.
The Greeks of Sicily had had no such military practice as
the Greeks of old Greece ; but an able commander could
teach both Sikeliot soldiers and Sikeliot seamen to out-
manoeuvre Athenians. The main result of the expedition,
as regards Sicily, was to bring the island more thoroughly
into the thick of Greek affairs. Syracuse, threatened
with destruction by Athens, was saved by the zeal of her
metropolis Corinth in stirring up the Peloponnesian rivals
of Athens to help her. Gylippos came ; the second
Athenian fleet came and perished. S^rracuso was saved ;
all chance of Athenian dominion in Sicily or elsewhere in
the West came to an end. Syracuse repaid the debt by
good service to the Peloponnesian cause, and from that
18
SICILY
[histoev.
413-392B.C. time the mutual innuence of Sicily and old Greece upon
one another is far stronger than in earlier times.
Phoeni- But before the war in old Greece was over, seventy years
cian in- after the great victory of Gelon (4 1 0), the Greeks of Sicily
vasion ^^^ j^^ undergo .barbarian invasion on a vaster scale than
Hannl- ever. Ths jjsputes between Segesta and SeUnous called
baJ ^n these enemies also, farthage stepped in as the ally of
Segesta, the enemy of her old ally Selinous. Her leader
was Hannibal, grandson and avenger of the Hamllkar who
had died at Himera. In 408, at the head of a vast mer-
cenary host, he sailed to Sicily, ^attacked Selinous, and
stormed the town after a murderous assault of nine days,
while the other Sikeliot cities, summoned to help, were
still lingering. The walls and temples were overthrown ;
the mass of the people were massacred ; the few who
escaped were allowed to return to the dismantled site as
tributaries of Carthage ; and the city never recovered its old
greatness. Thence Hannibal went on to Himera, with the
special mission of avenging his grandfather. By this time
the other Greek cities were stirred to help, while SLkels
and Sikans joined Hannibal ; the strife was distinctly a
strife of Greeks and barbarians. At last Himera was
stormed, and 3000 of its citizens were solemnly slaughtered
on the spot where Hamilkar had died. Himera ceased to
exist ; but the Carthaginians founded the new- town of
Thermal (Termini) not far oflF, to which the name is some-
times laxly applied. The Phcenician possessions in Sicily
now stretched across the island from Himera to Selinous.
The next victim was Akragas ; its defenders, natives and
allies, quarrelled among themselves ; the mass of the
people forsook the city, and found shelter at Gela and
elsewhere. The few who were left were slaughtered ; the
town was sacked and the walls destroyed. Akragas was
presently restored, and it has lived on to this day ; but it
never recovered its old greatness.
Diony- Meanwhile the revolutions of Syracuse affected the his-
S108 I. tQpy qJ Sicily and of the whole Greek world. Dionysios
the tyrant began his reign of thirty-eight years in the first
months of 405. Almost at the same moment, the new
Carthaginian commander, Himilkon, attacked Gela and
Kamarina. Dionysios, coming to the help of G«la, was
defeated, and was charged with treachery. He now made
the mass of the people of both towns find shelter at Syra-
cuse. But now the plague led Himilkon to ask for peace.
Carthage was confirmed in her possession of .Selinous,
Himera, and Akragas, ■with some SLkan districts which
had opposed her. The people of Gela and Kamarina were
allowed to occupy their unwalled towns as tributaries of
Carthage. " L^ontinoi, latterly a Syracusan fort, as well as
Messana and aU the Sikels, were declared independent,
while Dionysios was acknowledged as master of Syracuse.
No war was ever more grievous to freedom and civiliza-
tion, ilore than half Sicily was now under barbarian
dominion ; several of its noblest cities had perished, and
a tyrant was established in the greatest. The 5th century
B.C., after its central years of freedom and prosperity, ended
in far deeper darkness than it had begun. The minuter
account of Dionysios belongs to Syracusan history ; but
his position, one unlike anything that had been before
seen in Sicily or elsewhere in Hellas, forms an epoch in
the history of Europe. ' His only bright side is his cham-
pionship of Hellas against the Phoenician, and this is
balanced by his settlements of barbarian mercenaries in
several Greek cities. Towards the native races his policy
varied according to momentary interests ; but on the
whole his reign tended to bring the Sikels more and
more within the Greek pale. His dominion is Italian as
well as Sicilian ; his influence, as an ally of Sparta, is
important in old Greece ; while, as a hirer of mercenaries
everywhere, he had wider relations than anv earlier Greek
with the nations of western Europe. He further opened
new fields for Greek settlement on both sides of the
Hadriatic. In short, under him Sicily became for the
first time the seat of a great Emopean power, while
Syracuse, as its head, became the greatest of European
cities. His reign was unusually long for a Greek tyrant,
and his career furnished a model for other rulers and
invaders of Sicily. With him in truth begins that wider
range of Greek warfare, policy, and dominion which
the Macedonian kingdoms carry on. The master of such
a dominion becomes the improver of the military art.
With him begins the employment of ships greater than the
old triremes, of more effective engines in sieges, and that
combined use of troops of various arms and nations which ,
Alexander carried to perfection.
The reign of Dionysios (405-367) is divided into marked His ■
periods by four wars with Carthage, in 397-396, 392, 383, "'"'
and 368. In the first war his home power was all but ^ *^
overthrown ; but he lived through the storm, and extended
his dominion over Naxos, Katana, and Leontinoi. All
three perished as Greek cities. Katana was the first
Sikeliot city to receive a settlement of Campanian mer-
cenaries, while others settled in non- Hellenic Entella.
Naxos was settled by Sikels ; Leontinoi was again merged
in Syracuse. Now begin the dealings of Dionysios with
Italy, where the Ehegines, kinsmen of Naxos and Katana,
planned a fruitless attack on him in common with Messana.
He then sought a wife at Ehegion, but was refused with
scorn, while Lokroi (Locri) gladly gave him Doris. The two
cities afterwards fared accordingly. In the first war with
Carthage, the Greek cities under Carthaginian dominion
or dependence helped him ; so did Sikans and Sikels, which
last had among them some stirring leaders ; Elymian Segesta
clave to Carthage. Dionysios took the Phoenician strong-
hold of Motye ; but Himilkon recovered it, destroyed Mes-
sana, founded the Lul-town of Tauromenion (Taormina)
above Naxos for Sikels who had joined him, defeated the
fleet of Dionysios, and besieged Syracuse. Between in-
vasion and home discontent, the tyrant was all but lost;
but the Spartan Pharakidas stood his friend ; the Cartha-
ginians again suffered from pestilence ; and Himilkon went
away defeated, taking with him his Carthaginian troops
and forsaking his allies. Gela, Kamarina, Himera, Seli-
nous, Akragas itself, now passed into the dependent alliance
of Dionysios. The Carthaginian dominion was cut down
to what it had been before Hannibal's invasion. The lord
of Syracuse had grown at the cost of Greek and barbarian
alike.
He planted mercenaries at Leontinoi, conquered some
Sikel towns, central Heima among them, and made
alliances with others. He restored. Messana, peopling it
with motley settlers, among whom were some of the old
Messenians from Peloponnesos. But the Spartan masters
of the old Messenian land grudged this possible begin-
ning of a new Messenian po'n'er. Dionysios therefore
moved his ^Messenians to a point on the north coast, where
they founded Tyndaris. He clearly had a special eye
to that region. He took the Sikel Kephaloidion (Cefalii),
and even the old Phoenician border -fortress of Solous
was betrayed to him. He beat back a Ehegine expedi-
tion ; but his advance was checked by a failure to take
the new Sikel settlement of Tauromenion. His enemies
of aU races now declared themselves. Many of the Sikels
forsook him ; Akragas declared herself independent : Car-
thage herself, stirred by the loss of Solous, again took the
field..
The Punic war of 392-391 was not very memorable.
BDth sides failed in their chief enterprises, and the main
interest of the story comes from the glimpses which we
get of the Sikel sUtes. Most of them joined the Carthft-
HISTORY.]
SICILY
19
ginian leader Mago ; but he was successfully withstood at
Agyfion by Agyris, the ally of Dionysios, who is described
as a tyrant second in power to Dionysios himself. This
way of speaking would imjjly that Agyriou had so far
advanced in Greek ways as to run the usual course of a
Greek commonwealth. The two tyi'ants drove Carthage
to a peace by which she abandoned all her Sikel allies to
Dionysios. This time he took Tauromenion and settled
it with his mercenaries. For new colonists of this kind
the established communities of all races were making way.
The transportations under the older tyrants had been move-
ments of Greeks from one Greek site to another. Now
all races are confounded.
• Dionysios, now free from Phcenician. warfare, gave his
mind to enterprises which raised his power to its greatest
height. In the years 390-387 he warred against the Italiot
cities in alliance with their Lucanian enemies. Ehegion,
ELroton (Croton), the whole toe of the boot, were conquered.
Their lands were given to Lokroi; their citizens were taken
to Syracuse, sometimes as slaves, sometLmes as citizens.
The master of barbarians fell below the lowest Hellenic
level when he put the brave Rhegine general Phyton to a
lingering death, and in other cases imitated the Cartha-
ginian cruelty of crucifixion. Conqueror of southern Italy,
he turned his thoughts yet further, and became the first
ruler of Sicily to stretch forth his hands towards the eastern
peninsula. In the Hadriatic he helped Hellenic extension.
He planted directly and indirectly some settlements in
Apulia, while Syracusan exiles founded the more famous
Ankon or Ancona. On the east coast he founded Lissos ;
he helped the Parians in their settlements of Issa and
Pharos; he took into his pay Hlyrian warriors with Greek
arms, and helped the Molottian Alketas to win back part
of his kingdom. He was even charged with plotting with
his Epeirot ally to plunder Delphoi. This even Sparta
would not endure ; Dionysios had to content himself with
sending a fleet along the, west coast of Italy, to carry oflF
the wealth of the great temple of Agylla or Ciere.
In old Greece men now said that the Greek folk was
temmed in between the barbarian Artaxerxes on the one
side and Dionysios, master and planter of barbarians, on the
other. These feelings found expression when Dionysios sent
his embassy to the Olympic games of 384, and when Lysias
bade Greece rise against both its oppressors. Dionysios
vented his wrath on those who were nearest to him, banish-
ing many, among them his brother Leptines and his earliest
friend Philistos, and putting many to death. He was
also once more stixred up to play the part of a Hellenic
champion : he made ready for yet another Punic war.
In this war (383-382) Dionysios seems for once to have
had hLs head turned by a first success. ' His delnand that
Carthage should altogether withdraw from Sicily was met
by a crushing defeat. Then came a treaty l;>y which
Cartlvage kept Selinous and part of the land of Akragas.
The Halykoa became the boundary. Dionysios had also
to pay 1000 talents, which caused him to be spoken of as
becoming tributary to the barbarians. In the last years of
his reign we hear dimly of both Syracusan and Carthaginian
operations in southern Italy. He also gave help to Sparta
against Thebes, sending Gaulish and Iberian mercenaries
to take part in Greek warfare. His last war with Carthage,
which was going on at his death, was ended by a peace by
which the Ilalykos remained the boundary.
The tyranny of Dionysios fell, as usual, in the second
generation; but it was kept up for ten years after his
death by the energy of Phili.sto.s, now mini.ster of his son
Dionysios the Younger. It fell with the coming back of
the exile Dion in 357. The tyranny had lasted so long
that it was leso easy than at tlie overthrow of the elder
.tyrants to fell baok on an earlier state of things. It had I
been a time of frightful changes throughout Sicily, fuM of
breaking up of old landmarks, of confusion of races,- and
of movements of inhabitants. But it also saw the founda-
tion of new cities. Besides Tyndaris and Tauromenion,
the foundation of Alaisa marks another step in Sikel pro-
gress towards Hellenism, while the Carthaginians founded
their strong town and fortress of Lilybaion. Among these
changes the most marked is the settlement of Canipanian
mercenaries in Greek ami Sikel towns. Yet they too could
be brought under Greek influences ; they were distant
kinsfolk of the Sikels, and they were the forerunners of
Rome. They mark one stage of migration from Italy into
Sicily.
The reign of Dionysios was less brilliant in the way of
art and literature .than that of Hioron. Yet Dionysios
himself sought fame as a poet, and his success at Athen»
shows that his compositions did not deserve the full scorn
of his enemies. The dithyrambic poet Philoxenos, by birth
of Kythera, won his fame in SicUy, and other authors of
lost poems are mentioned in various Sikeliot cities. One
of the greatest losses in all Greek history is that of the
writings of Philistos (436-356), the Syracusan who had
seen the Athenian siege and who died in the warfare
between Dion and the younger Dionysios. Through the
time of both tyrants, he was, next to the actual rulers, the
first man in Sicily ; but of his record of his own times wa
have only what filters through the recasting of Diodoros.
But the most remarkable ii'tellectual movement in Sicily
at this time was the influence of the Pythagorean philo-
sophy, which still lived on in southern Italy. It led,
through Dion, to the several visits of Plato to Sicily under
both the elder and the younger Dionysios. To architecture
the time was not favourable anywhere but in Syracuse.
The time following the Dionysian tyranny was at Syra-
cuse a time full of the most stirring local and personal
interest, under her two deliverers Dion and Timoleon.
It is less easy to make out the exact efi'ect on the rest
of Sicily of the three years' career of Dion. But we
may mark that, in driving out the younger Dionysio.s,
he was helped by a general movement of Greeks, Sikels,
and Sikans.. Between the death of Dion in 354 and
the coming of Timoleon in '344 we hear of a time of
confusion in which Hellenic life seemed likely to die out.
The cities, Greek and Sikel, were occupied by tjTants. Syra-
cuse was parted between several, Dionysios coming back to
hold Ortygia. Timoleon's work was threefold — the immc- Tnnoj
diate deliverance of Syracuse, the restoration of Sicily in 'eon.
general to freedom and Greek life, and the defence of
the Greek cities againsv Carthage. The victory of the
Krimisos in 340 led to a peace with Carthage with the
old frontier; but all Greek cities were to be free, and
Carthage was to give no help to any tyrant. Timoleon
drove out all the tyrants, and it specially marks, the
fusion of the two races that the people of the Sikel Agyrion
were admitted to the citizenship of free SjTacuse. From
some towns he drove out the Campanians, and he largely
invited Greek settlement, especially from the Italiot towns,
which were hard pres,sed by the Bruttians. The Corinthiaa
deliverer gave, not only Syracuse, but all Greek Sicily, a
new lease of life, though a short one.
With Timoleon begins a series of leaders who came from
old Greece to deliver or to conquer among the Greeks of
Italy and Sicily. The cntoqirise of Dion most likely sug-
gested those that followed, but Dion, as a native Syracusan,
does not belong altogether to the same class. Timoleon
alone was a pure republican deliverer. The Macedoutun
kings had established a Greek dominion in the East, and
a .series of princes from Sparta and Epciros camo to «wf«l>-
lish in the West a Greek dominion which should Iw.'fcnoo
that of iho Macedonians. Archidamoa Alex&isder of
>20
s 1 c 1 L y
[histokv.
Ilpeiros, Akrotatos, Kleonymos, all unsuccessfully attempted
this work in Italy ; it was only Pyrrlios, the last and
greatest of the series, who played any great part in Sicily.
And before he came, Sicily had become the seat of a greater
native power than ever, ilever till the Njrnian came
was any Sicilian dominion so famous in the world as that
of the Syracusan tyrant or kins; Agathokles.
AVe havo unluckily no int.-^.Higible account of Sicily
during the twenty years after the death of Timoleon (337-
317). His deliverance is said to have been followed by
great immediate prosperity, but wars and dissensions very
soon began again. Agathokles won his first fame in war
between Syracuse and Akragas. The Carthaginians played
off one city and party against another, and Agathokles,
following the same policy, became in 317, by treachery
and massacre, undisputed tyrant of Syracuse, and spread
bis dominion over many other cities. Akragas, strengthened
by Syracusan exiles, now stands out again as the rival of
Syracuse. The Carthaginian Harailkar, by conduct which
contrasted with the cruelty of Agathokles, won many Greek
cities to the Punic alliance. Defeated in battle, with
Syracuse blockaded by a Carthaginian fleet, Agathokles
formed the bold idea of carrying the war' into Africa.
He set the model for Regulus and Scipio, and not a few
later rulers of Sicily.
For more than three years (310-307) each side carried
on warfare in the land of the other. Carthage was hard
pressed by Agathokles, while Syracuse was no less hard
pressed by Hamilkar. The force with which Agathokles
invaded AJfrica was far from being wholly Greek ; but it was
representatively European. Gauls, Samnites, Tyrrhenians,
fought for him, while mercenary Greeks and Syracusan
exiles fought for Carthage. He won many battles and
towns; he quelled mutinies of his own troops; by inviting
and murdering Ophelias lord of Kyrene(Cyrene)he doubled
his army and brought Carthage near to despair. Mean-
while Syracuse, all but lost, had driven back Hamilkar,
and had taken and slain him when he came again with
the help of the Syracusan e.xile Deinokrates. Meanwhile
Akragas, deeming Agathokles and the barbarians alike
weakened, proclaimed freedom for the Sicilian cities under
her own headship. Many towns, both Greek and Sikel,
joined the confederacy. It has now become impossible to
distinguish the two races ; Henna and Erbessos are now
the fellows of Kamarina and Leontinoi. But the hopes
of Akragas were checked when Agathokles suddenly came
back from Africa, landed at Selinous, and marched to
Syracuse, taking one town after another. A new scheme
of Sicilian union was taken up by Deinokrates, which cut
short his dominion. But he now relieved Syracuse from the
Carthaginian blockade; his mercenaries gained a victory
over Akragas; and he sailed again for Africa, where fortune
had turned against his son Archagathos, as it now did
against himself. He left his sons and his army to death,
bondage, or Carthaginian service, and came back to Sicily
almost alone. Yet he could still gather a force which en-
abled him to seize Segesta,to slay or enslave the whole popu-
lation, and to settle the city with new inhabitants. This
change amounts to the extinction of one of the elements in
the old population of Sicily. We hear no more of Elymoi ;
ndeed Segesta has been practically Greek long before this.
Deinokrates and Agathokles came to a kind of partnership,
ind a peace with Carthage, with the old boundary, secured
Agathokles in the possession of Syracuse and eastern Sicily
(301).
At some stage of his African campaigns Agathokles
had taken the title of king. Earlier tyrants were well
pleased to be spoken of as kings ; but no earlier rulers of
Sicily put either their heads or their names on the coin.
Agathokles now put his name, first without, and then with,
the kingly title. This was in imitation of the Macedonian
leaders who divided the dominion of Alexander. The
relations between the eastern and western Greek worlds
are drawing closer. Agathokles in his old age took a
wife of the house oi Ptolemy ; he gave his daughter
Lanassa to Pyrrhos, and established his power east of
Hadria, as the first Sicilian ruler of Korkyra. He carried
on wars in the Liparaean Islands and in southern Italy,
and died in 289 B.C., poisoned, some said, by his own
grandson. Alike more daring and more cruel than any ruler
before him, he carried the arms of Sicily further afield,
and made the island the seat of a greater power than any
of them.
This time was not favourable to tne intellectual life of
Sicily. Hitherto the island had attracted men of letters
from old .Greece. Now several distinguished Sicilian
writers either chose or were driven to find homes else-
where. Tinaios of Tauromenion, scorned by Polybios, but
whose great Sicilian history is none the less a loss, was
banished by Agathokles, and made Athens his headquarters
for the last fifty years of his long life (356-c. 260 B.C.).
Dikaiarchos (DicKarchus) of Messana, geographer and phil-
osopher and author of the Life of Greece, lived mainly in
Peloponnesos till about 285 B.C. Euhemeros (Evemerup),
despiser of the gods, who is claimed by more than one
birthplace besides Messana, lived in the service and friend-
ship of the Macedonian Kassandros. Philemon too, the
long-lived writer of comedy (361-262 B.C.), is claimed for
Syracuse, and it was only as an adopted citizen that he
spent most of his life at Athens.
On the death of Agathokles tyrants sprang up in Per
various cities. Akragas, under its king Phintias, won "fte
back for the moment somewhat of its old greatness. By 4^^
a new depopulation of Gela, he founded the youngest of
SikeUot cities, Phintias, by the mouth of the southern
Himera. And Hellas was cut short by the seizure of
Messana by the disbanded Campanian mercenaries of
Agathokles {c. 282). They slew the men, took the
women as wives, and proclaimed themselves a new people
in a new city by the name of Mamertines, children o(
Mamers or Mars. ^lessana became an Italian town; henei
forth its formal name was "Mamertina civitas."
The Campanian occupation of Messana is the first of
the chain of events which led to the Roman dominion in
Sicily. As yet Rome has hardly been mentioned in Sicilian
story, either for friendship or for enmity. The Mamertine
settlement, the war with Pyrrhos, bring us on quickly.
Pyrrhos came as the champion of the western Greeks Pjnr
against all barbarians, whether Romans in Italy or Cartha-
ginians in Sicily. His Sicilian war (278-276) was a mere
interlude between the two acts of his war with Rorrie,
As son-in-law of Agathokles, he claimed to be specially
king of Sicily, and he held the Sicilian conquest of Korkyra
as the dowry of Lanassa. With such a deliverer, deliver-
ance meant submission. Pyrrhos is said to have dreamed of
kingdoms of Sicily and of Italy for his two sons, the grand-
sons of Agathokles, and he himself reigned for two years
in Sicily as a king who came to be no less hated than the
tyrants. Still as Hellenic champion in Sicily he has no
peer. As European champion he has none till Roger of
Kauteville. Eryx was won from the Phoenician ; Panormos
first became a city of Europe ; if he failed before Lilybaion,
that fortress and Messana were all that was left in bar-
barian hands through the whole island.
All this was but for a moment. The Greek king, on
his way back to fight for Tarentum against Rome, had to
cut his way through Carthaginians and Mamertines in
Roman alliance. His saying that he left Sicily as a
wrestling-ground for Romans and Carthaginians was the
very truth of the matter. Very soon came the first war
HISTORY.]
SICILY
21
■between Rome and Carthage, the war which is best marked
by its other name of the War for Sicily. It mattered
■much, now that Sicily was to have a barbarian master,
whether that master should be the kindred barbarian of
Europe or the barbarian of Asia transplanted to the shore
of Africa. That question was decided for Europe, that is
for Rome, now beginning her long career as Europeali
champion. That strife too gave a large part of Sicily a
last day of prosperity under a native ruler who was a king
and not a tyrant.
Sicily in"truth never had a more hopeful champion than
the second Hieron of Syracuse. The established rule of
Carthage in western Sicily was now something that could
well be endured alongside of the robber commonwealth at
Messana. The dominion of the freebooters was spreading.
Besides the whole north-eastern corner of the island, it
reached inland to Agyrion and Kentoripa. The Mamer-
tines leagued with other Campanian freebooters who had
forsaken the service of Rome to establish themselves at
Rhegion. But a new Syracusan power was growing up
to meet them. Hieron, claiming descent from Gelon,
pressed the Mamertines hard. He all but drove them to
the surrender of Messana ; he even helped Rome to chastise
ber own rebels at Rhegion. The ■wrestling- ground was
thus opened for the two barbarian commonwealths.^ Car-
thaginian troops held the Messanian citadel against Hieron,_
while another party in Messana craved the help of the head
of Italy. Rome, chastiser of the freebooters of Rhegion,
saw Italian brethren in the freebooters of Messana. The
War for Sicily began (264).
The exploits of Hieron had already won hira the kingly
title (270) at Syracuse, and he was the representative of
Hellenic life and independence throughout the island.
Partly in this character, partly as direct sovereign, he was
virtual ruler of a large part of eastern Sicily. But he could
not aspire to the dominion of earlier Syracusan rulers.
The advance of Rome after the retreat of Pyrrhos kept
the new king from all hope of their Italian position. And
presently the new kingdom exchanged independence for
safety. When Rome entered Sicily as the ally of the Ma-
mertines, Hieron became the ally of Carthage. But in the
second year of the war (263) he found it needful to change
sides. His alliance with Rome marks a great epoch in the
history of the Gr^ek nation. The kingdom of Hieron was
the firstfruits out of Italy of the system by 'which alliance
with Rome grew into subjection to Rome. He was the
first of Rome's kingly vassals. His only burthen was to
give help to the Roman side in war ; within his kingdom
he was free, and his dominions flourished as no part of
Sicily had flourished since the days of Timoleon.
During the twenty-three years of the First Punic War
' (264-241) the rest of the island sufl'ered greatly. The
War for Sicily was fought in and round Sicily, and the
Sicilian cities were taktn and retaken by the contending
j)Owers. Akragas, held by Carthage, stood a Roman siege
(262) ; the Punic garrison escaped ; the inhabitants were
sold into slavery. Seven years later the repeopled city
was taken and burned and its walls destroyed by a Car-
■.haginian army. Selinous was utterly destroyed, when,
wwards the end of the ■wa.T, Carthage gathered her whole
strength again in a few points in the west. Greek Selinous
ind Elymian Eryx akko gave way to the new fortress of
Drepanon, which, along witti Lilybaion, held out till the
end of the war. Scgosta, subject to Carthage, still remem-
bered its old traditions, and the sons of iEneas were wel-
comed as deliverers by the Trojan city. Kamarina and
ihland'Henna passed to and fro between the two powers.
But the great exploit of Rome was the second ■winning of
Panormos for Europe, and its brilliant defence against the
Semitic enemy. The highest calling of the Greek had
new, in the Western lands, passed to the Roman. By the 276.C10R*
treaty which ended the war Carthage ceded to Rome all '
her possessions in Sicily. As that part of the island which
kept a national Greek government became the first king-
dom dependent on Rome, so the share of Carthage became
the first Roman province. One point alone did not come
under either of those heads. Messana, Mainertina civitas,
remained an Italian ally of Rome on Sicilian soil.
We have no picture of Sicily in the first period of
Roman rule. One hundred and seventy years later, several
towns within the original province enjoyed various degrees
of freedom, which they had doubtless kept from the begin-
ning. Besides the old ally Messana, Panormos, Segesta,
■nith Kentoripa, Halesa, and Halikye, once Sikel but now
Hellenized, kept the position of free cities {liberx et im-
munes, Cic, Verr., iii. 6). The rest paid tithe to the
Roman people as landlord. The province was ruled by a
prastor sent yearly from Rome. Within the Roman pro-
vince the new state of things called forth much discontent;
but Hieron remained the faithful ally of Rome through a
long life. On his death (215) and the accession of his
grandson Hieronymos, his dynasty was swept away by the
last revolution of Greek Syracuse. The result was revolt
against Rome, the great sioge by Marcellus, the taking of
the city, the addition of Hieron's kingdom to the Roman
province. Two towns only, which had taken the Roman
side, Tauromenion and Netos, were admitted to the full
privileges of Roman alliance (cf. Diod. Fr., Hoeschl., lib.
xxiii. p. 18; Cic, Verr., iii. 6, v. 22). Tauromenion
indeed ■was more highly favoured than the children of
Mamers. Rome had a right to demand ships of Messana,
but not of Tauromenion. Some towns were ' destroyed ;
the people of Henna were massacred. Akragas, again
held for Carthage, was for four years (21,4-210) the centre
of an active campaign. The story of Akragas ended in
plunder, slaughter, and slavery ; three years later, the
story of Agrigentum began.
The reign of Hieron was the last, time of independent
Greek culture in Sicily. His great works belong to the
special history of Syracuse ; but his time marks the growth
of a new farm of local Sicilian genius. The spread of
Hellenic culture among the Sikels had in return made a
Greek home for many Sikel beliefs, traditions, and customs.
Bucolic poetry is the native growth of Sicily ; in the hands
of Theokritos it grew out of the germs supplied by Epi-
charmos and Sophron into a distinct and finished form of
the art. The poet, himself of Syracuse, went to and fro
between the courts of Hieron and Ptolemy Philadelphos ;
but his poetry is essentially Sicilian. So is that of his su(x,
cessors, both the Syracusan !Moschos and Bion of SmjTnai,
who came, to Sicily as to his natural school. The most
renowned Sicilian name of this time, that of Archimedes,
is hardly distinctively Sicilian. A great name in the
history of science, a great name in the local history of
Syracuse, he had not, like the earlier philosophers and the
bucolic poets, any direct bearing on the general political
or intellectual development of the island.
With the incorporation of the kingdom of Hieron into the
Roman province independent Sicilian history comes to an
end for many ages. Of the state of Sicily under the Romai:
commonwealth our chief source of knowledge is the plead-
ing of Cicero against the worst Roman oppressor of Sicily,
Gaius Verres. Next in importance to this come those frag-
ments of Diodoros which describe the two insuri'cctions of
the slaves. Between those insurrections came the legisla-
tion of Rupilius which settled the Roman system of admini-
stration in Sicily. Cicero's description comes later than
all these ; but the general relations between Rome and Sicily
seem to have been much the same from the first occupation
till the beginning of the empire. . In one part of the island
22
SICILY
[histoky.\
the Eo.nati people stepped into tlie position of Carthage, in
another part into that of King Hieron. The allied cities
kept their several terms of alliance ; the free cities kept
their freedom ; elsewhere the land paid to the Konian
people, according to the law of Hieron, the tithe which it
had paid to Hieron. But, as the tithe was let out to
publicans, oppression was easy. The prjetor, after the occu-
pation of Syracuse, dwelled there in the palace of Hieron,
as in the capital of the island. But, as a survival of the
earlier state of things, one of his two quaestors was
quartered at Lilybaion. Under the supreme dominion of
Rome even the unprivileged cities kept their own laws,
magistrates, and assemblies, provision being made for suits
between Romans and Sicilians and between Sicilians of
different cities (Ven:, ii. 16). In Latin the one name
Siculi takes in all the inhabitants of the island ; no distinc-
tion is drawn between Greek and Sikel, or even between
Greek and Phoenician cities. It is assumed that all Siculi
are Greeks {Ven:, ii. 3, 29, 49, 52, 65; iii. 37, 40, 73).
Even in Greek, StKcAot is now sometimes used instead of
SiKcAiwrai. Alf the persons spoken of by Cicero came to
Lave Greek names save — a most speaking exception — Gaius
Heius of Mamertina ciritas. Inscriptions too from Sikel
and Phoenician cities are commonly Greek, even when they
commemorate men with Phoenician names, coupled perhaps
with Greek siu-names (C. /. G., iii. 597, cf. 628). The
process of Hellenization which had been so long going on
iad at la^t made Sicily thoroughly Greek. Roman con-
quest itself, which everywhere carried a Greek element
with it, would help this result. The corn of the fertile
island was said even then to feed the Roman people. It
was this character of Sicily which led to its one frightful
Sla've piece of local history. The evils of slavery and the slave-
revolts, tiade in their worst form — the slavery of men who are
their masters' equals in all but luck — reached their height
iu the 2d century B.C. The wars of Rome, and the system-
atic piracy and kidnapping that followed them, filled the
Mediterranean lands with slaves of all nations. Sicily
stood out before the rest as the first land to be tilled by
slave-gangs, on the estates both of rich natives and of
Roman settlers. The free population naturally degener-
ated and died out. The slaves were most harshly treated,
and even encouraged by their masters to rob. The land
was full of disorder, and the prsetors shrank from enforc-
ing the law against offenders, many of whom, as Roman
knights, might be their own judges. Of these causes came
the two great slave-revolts of the second half of the 2d
century B.C. They did not stand alone in the world, but
no others reached the same extent. The first outbreak was
stained by some excesses, but after that we are struck with
the orderly course of the rebellion. It is regular warfare.
Sicily had neither native militia nor Roman army ; the
slaves therefore, strengthened by the poorer freemen, occu-
pied the vhole land save only the great cities ; they chose
kings and founded them a capital. The chosen king of
one district submits to the other for the general good.
They form armies which could defeat Roman generals, and
they are subdued only by efforts on the same scale as the
contJTleSt of a kingdom. For most of the slaves were men
used to freedom and to arms, not a few of them Sicilian
pirates. The fact that in the first war a slave named
Achaios — like Davus, Geta, or Sjtus — plays a chief part
also teUs us a good deal. The Syrian element was large, and
the movement was mLsed up with much of Syrian religion.
But the native deities of Sicily and the holy place of the
Palikoi were not forgotten. The first slave war lasted from
135 to 132, the time of Tiberius Gracchus and the fall of
Numantia. The second lasted from 102 to 99, the time of
the Cimbrian invasion. At other times the power of
Rome might have quelled the revolt more speedily.
The slave wars were not the only scourge that fell on
Sicily. The pirates troubled the coast, and all other evils
were outdone by the three years' government of A'erres
(73-70 B.C.). Besides the light which the great impeach-
ment throws on the state of the Island, his administration
seems really to have dealt a lasting blow to its prosperityi
The slave wars had not directly touched the great cities '
Verres plundered and impoverished everywhere. Another
blow was the occupation of ilessana by Sextus Pompeius!
in 42 B.C. He was master of Sicily for six years, and
Strabo (vi. 2, 4) attributes to this war the decayed state
of several cities. To undo this mischief Augustus planted
Roman colonies at Syracuse, Tauromenion, Therma, Tyn
daris, and Katana. The island thus received another
Italian infusion ; but, as elsewhere, Latin in no way dis-
placed Greek ; it was simply set up alongside of it for
certain purposes. Roman tastes now came in ; Roman;
buildings, especially amphitheatres, arose. But Sicily
never became Roman like Gaul and Spain. The dictator
Csesar designed the Roman, and Marcus Antonius the
Latin, franchise for all Sicily ; but neither plan was
carried out. Sicily remained a province, a province of the
senate and people, not of the prince.' Particular cities
were promoted to higher privileges, and that was all. The
Mamertines were Romans in Pliny's day ; two free cities,'
Kentoripa and Segesta, had become Latin ; still later, Phoe-
nician Lilybaion received a Roman colony. All these were
steps in the progress by which, in Sicily as elsewhere,
political distinctions were broken down, till the edict oi
Antoninus bestowed at least the Roman name — no small
gift — on all Roman allies and subjects. Sicily was no\s
part of Romania, but it was one of its Greek members.
Till this change was made, Sicily could not be in any
sense incorporated with Italy. In the division of Con-
stantine, when the word province had lost its meaning;
when Italy itself was mapped out into provinces, Sicily
became one of these last. Along with Africa, Estia
(Rhaetia), and western lUyricum, it became part of th&
Italian prefecture ; along with the islands of Sardinia
and Corsica, it became part of the Italian diocese. It
was now ruled by a corrector (see the letter of Constantine,
which stands first in the Codex Diplomaticvs Sicilise of
Johannes), afterwards by a consular under the authority
of the vicar of the Roman city (Not. Imp., 14, 5). Few
emperors visited Sicily ; Hadrian was there, as every-
where, and Julian Also {CD., 10). In its provincial state
Sicily fell back more than some other provinces. Ausonius
could stUl reckon Catina and fourfold Syracuse (" quad-
ruplicfes Syracusas ") among noble cities ; but Sicily is not,
like Gaul, rich in relics of later Roman life, and it is now
Egypt rather than Sicily that feeds Rome. The island has-
no internal history beyond a very characteristic fact, a third
slave war in the days of Gallienus. External history there
could be none in the central island, with no frontier open to
Germans or Persians. Sicilian history begins again when
the wandering of the nations planted new powers, not on
the frontier of the empire, but at its heart.
The powers between which Sicily now passes to and
fro are Teutonic powers. The earlier stages of Teutonic
advance could not touch Sicily. Alaric thought of a
Sicilian expedition, but a storm hindered him. Sicily was
to be reached only by a Teutonic power which made its
way through Gaul, Spain, and Africa. The Vandal now
dwells at Carthage instead of the Canaanite. Gaiseric
(429-477) subdued the great islands for which Roman
and Phoenician had striven. Along with Sardinia, Corsica,
and the Balearic Isles, Sicily is again a possession of a naval
power at Carthage. Gaiseric, at Rome more than a HanniJ
bal, makes a treaty with Odowakar (Odoacer) almost like
that which ended the First Punic War. He gave up (Victoc
HISTORY.]
SICILY
23
Vitensis, i. 4) the island qt, conaition of a tribute, which was
hardly paid by Theodoric. Sicily was now ruled by a Gothic
count, and the Goths claimed to have treated the land
with special tenderness (Procopius, Bell. Goth., iii. 16).
The island, like the rest of Theodoric's dominions, was
certainly well looked after by the great king and his
minister ; yet we hear darkly of disaffection to Gothic rule
(Cass., Var., i. 3). Theodoric gave back Lilybaion to the
Vandal king Thrasamund as the dowry of his sister Anala-
frida (Proc, Bell. Vand., i. 8). Yet Lilybaion was a
Gothic possession when Belisarius, conqueror of Africa,
demanded it in vain as part of the Vandal possessions
(Proc, Bell. Vand., ii. 5 ; Bell. Goth., i. 3). In the Gothic
war Sicily was the first land to be recovered fpr the empire,
and that with the good will of its people (535). Panormus
alone was stoutly defended by its Gothic garrison. In 550
Totila took some fortresses, but the great cities all with-
stood him, and the Goths were driven out the next year.
;y Sicily was thus won back to the Roman dominion, but
srthe the seat of the Roman dominion was now at Constantinople.
5™ Belisarius .was Pyrrhos and Marcellus in one. For 430
years some part of Sicily, for 282 years the whole of it,
again remained a Roman province. To the Gothic count
again succeeded, under Justinian, a Roman pra:tor, in
Greek crrpaTT^yds. That was the official title ; we often
hear of a patrician of Sicily, but patrician w'as in strictness
a personal rank. In the later mapping out of the empire
into pur.ely military divisions, the theme {d(f-a) of Sicily took
in both the island o.nd the nearest peninsula of the main-
land, the oldest Italy. The island itself was divided, for
financial purposes, almost as in the older times, into the
two divisions of Syracuse and Lilybaion. The revolutions
of Italy hardly touched a land which looked steadily to
the eastern Rome as its head. The Lrmbard and Frankish
masters of the peninsula never fixed themselves in the
island. When the Frank took the imperial crown of the
West, Sicily still kept, its allegiance to the Augustus who
reigned at Constantinople, and was only torn away piece-
meal from the empire by the next race of conquerors.
5si- This connexion of Sicily with the eastern division of
?' the empire no doubt largely helped to keep up Greek life
'°'^'' in the island. This was of course strengthened by union
•with a power which had already a Greek side, and where
the Greek side soon became dominant. Still the con-
nexion with Italy was cloye, especially the ecclesiastical
connexion. Some things tend to make Sicily look less
Greek than it really was. The great source of our know-
ledge of Sicily in the century which followed the recon-
quest by Belisarius is the Letters of Pope Gregory the
Great; and they naturally show the most Latin side of
things. The merely official use of Latin was, it must
be remembered, common to Sicily with Constantinople.
Gregory's Letters are largely occupied with the affairs of
the great Sicilian estate' held by the Roman Church, as
by the churches of Milan and Ravenna. But they deal
with many other matters (see the collection in Johannes,
CD., where the letters bearing on Sicily are brought
together, or the usual collection of his letters). Saint
Paul's visit to Syracuse naturally gave rise to many
legends ; but the Christian Church undoubtedly took early
root in Sicily. We hear of Manichceans (C.I)., 163);
Jews . were plentiful, and Gregory causes compensation
to be made for the unlawful destruction of synagogues.
Of paganism we find no trace, save that pagan slave.% doubt-
less not natives of the island, were held by Jews {CD., 127).
Herein is a contra.st between Sicily and Sardinia, where, ac-
cording to a letter from Gregory to the empress Constantina,
wife of Maurice (594-595), praying for a lightening of taxa-
tion in both islands, paganism still lingered {CD., 121).
Sicily belonged to the Latin patriarchate ; but we already
.{CD., 103) see glimmerings of the coming disputes between 477-829
the Eastern and Western Churches. Things were changed
when, in the early days of the iconoclast controversy, Leo
the Isaurian confiscated the Sicilian and Calabrian estates
of the Roman Church (Theoph., i. 631).
In the 9th, 10th, and 11th centuries the old drama of
Sicily was acted again. The island is again disputed
between Europe and Asia, transplanted to Africa between
Greek and Semitic dwellers on her owa soil. Panormus
and Syracuse are again the headquarters of races and
creeds, of creeds yet more than of races. The older
religious differences — not small certainly when the choice
lay between Zeus and Moloch— -were small compared
with the strife for life and death between Christendom
and Islam.. Gregory and Mahomet were contemporaries,
and, though Saracen occupation did not begin in. Sicily
till more 'han two centuries after Gregory's death,
Saracen i' ro?,ds began much sooner. In 655 (Theoph., Eariy
i. 532) r^art of Sicily was plundered, and its inhabitants !>"»«■
carried to Damascus. Then came the strange episode of '""'*"*'
the visit of Constans the Second (641-668), the first
emperor, it 'would seem, who had set foot in Sicily since
Juliaii. After a war with the Lombards, after twelve
days' plunder of Rome, he came on to Syracuse, where his
oppressions led to his riiurder in 668. Sicily now saw for
the first time the setting up of a tyrant in the later sense.
Meketios, commander of the Eastern army of Constans,
revolted, but Sicily and Roman Italy kept their allegiance
to the new emperor Constantine Pogonatos, who came in
person to destroy him. Then came another Saracen inroad
from Alexandria, in which Syracuse was sacked (Paul.
Diac, V. 13). Others, followed, but there was as yet no
lasting settlement. Towards the end of the 8th century,
though Sicily itself was untouched, its patricians and their
forces play a part in the affairs of southern Italy as enemies
of the Frankish power. Charles himself was believed
(Theoph., i. 736) to have designs on Sicily ; but, when it
came to Saracen invasion, the sympathies of both pope
and Cresar lay with the invaded Christian land {Mon. Car.,
323, 328).
In 813 a peace for ten years was made between the Saraccr
Saracens and the patrician Gregory. A few years after it conquia.
expired Saracen settlement in the island begins. This was
a special time of Saracen inroad on the islands belonging
to the Eastern empire. Almost at the same moment Crete
was. seized by a band of adventurers from Spain. But the
first Saracen settlers in Sicily were the African neighbours
of Sicily, and they were called to the work by a home
treason. The story has been f-ricked out with many
romantic details {Chron. Salern., 60, ap. Pertz, iii. 498 ;
Theoph. Cont., ii. 272 ; George Kedrenos, ii. 97) ; but it
seems plain that Euphemios or Euthymios of Syracuse,
supported by his own citizens, revolted against Michael the
Stammerer (820-829), and, when defeated by an imperial
army, asked help of Ziyidet Allah, the Aghlabitc prince ol
KairawAn, and offered to hold the island of him. The
struggle of 138 years now began. Eui)hemios, a puppet
emperor, was led about by his Saracen allies much as
earlier puppet emperors had been led about by Alaric and
Ataulf, till he was slain in one of the many sieges. The
second Semitic conquest of Sicily began in 827 at Mazzara
on the old border of Greek and Phcenician. But the land
had a brave defender in the patrician Tljeodotos, and the
invaders met with a stout resistance both in the island and
from armies both from Constantinople and from Byzantine
Italy. The advance of the invaders was slow. In two
years all that was done wa.s to occupy Mazzara and Mineum
— the old Menai of Douketios — strange points certainly to
begin with, and seemingly to destroy Agrigentiun, well
used to destruction. Attacks on Syracuse failed ; so did
24
SICILY
[history
attacks on Henna — Castrum Enns, now changing into
Casirum Johannis (perhaps Kao-T/aoiavvi;), Castrogiovanni.
The actual gain was small ; but the invaders took seizin
alike of the coast and of the island.
A far greater conquest followed when new invaders
came from Spain and when Theodotos was killed in 830.
The next year Panormus passed away for ever from Roman,
for 230 years from Christian, rule. Syracuse was for
fifty years, not only, as of old, the bulwark of Europe,
but the bulwark of Christendom. By the conquest of
Panormus the Saracens were firmly rooted in the island.
We hear dimly of trea.sonable dealings with them on the
part of the strategos Alexios, son-in-law of the emperor
Theophilos ; but we see more clearly that Saracen advance
was largely hindered by dissensions between the African
and the Spanish settlers. In the end the Moslem con-
quests in Sicily became an Aghlabite principality owning
at best a formal superiority in the princes •ci KairawAn.
With the Saracen occupation ^begins a new division of the
island, which becomes convenient in tracing the progress
of Saracen conquest. This is into three valleys, known in
later forms of language as Val di JIaziara or Mazza in the
north-west, Val di Noto in the south-east, and Val Demone
(a name of uncertain origin) in the north-east (see Amari,
Musulmani in Sicilia, i. 465). The first Saracen settlement
of Val di Mazzara answers roughly to the old Carthaginian
possessions. From Panormus the emir or lord of Sicily,
Mohammed ibn Abdallah, sent forth his plunderers through-
out Sicily and even into southern Italy. There, though
they made no lasting settlements, they often occupied par-
ticular points. A consul or duke of Naples in 836 even
asked for Saracen help against the Lombards, which he is
said to have repaid by help against his fellow-subjects in
Sicily (Johan. Diac, 57 ; Amari, i. 314).
The chief work of the next ten years was the conquest
of the Val di Noto^ but the first great advance was made
elsewhere. In 843 the Saracens won the Mamertine city,
Messana, and thus stood in the path between Italy and
Sicily. Then the work of conquest, as described by the
Arabic writers, went on, but slowly. At last, in 859, the
very centre of the island, the stronghold of Henna, was
taken, and the main part of Val di Noto followed. But
the divisions among the Moslems helped the Christians;
they won back several towns, and beat off all attacks on
Syracuse and Tauromenium. It is strange that the reign
of Basil the Macedonian (867), a time of such renewed
vigour in the empire, was the time of the greatest of all
losses in Sicily. In Italy the imperial frontier largely
advanced ; in Sicily imperial fleets threatened Panormus.
But in 875 the accession of Ibrdhim ibn Ahmed in Africa
changed the face of things. The emir in Sicily, Ja'far ibn
Ahmed, received strict orders to act vigorously against the
eastern towns. In 877 began the only successful Semitic
siege of Syracuse. The next year the city, which for 1600
years had been the seat of Greek, Roman, and Christian
life, passed for the first time under the yoke of strangers
to the fellowship of Europe.
Thus in fifty-one years the imperial and Christian terri-
tory in Sicily was cut down to a few points on or near
the eastern coast, to the Val Demone in short without
Messana. But between Moslem dissension and Chris-
tian valour the struggle had still to be waged for eighty-
seven years. Henna had been the chief centre of Christian
resistance a generation earlier ; its place was now taken
by the small fort of Rametta not far from Messina. The
Moslems of Sicily were busy in civil wars; Arabs fought
against Berbers, both against the African overlord. In
900 Panormus had to be won by a son of IbrAhIm from
Moslem rebels provoked by his father's cruelty. But
when IbrAhlm himself came into Sicily, renewed efi'orts
against the Christians led to the first taking of Tauromeniun)
(908), of Rametta, and of other points. The civil war that
followed his death, the endless revolutions of Agrigentum,
where the weaker side did not scruple to call in Christian
help, hindered any real Saracen occupation of eastern
Sicily. The emperors never gave up their claims to Sicily
or their hopes of recovering it. Besides the struggle witi
the Christians in the island, there was often direct warfare
between the empire and the Saracens; but such warfare
was more active in Italy than in Sicily. In 956 a pea-cc
or truce was made by the emperor Constantine Porphyro-
genitus. A few years later, Otho the Great, the restorer cJ
the Western empire, looked to Sicily as a land to be won
back for Christendom. It had not yet wholly jiassed away;
bu,t the day soon came. Strange to say, as Syracuse fell
in the reign of Basil the Macedoniarr, the Saracen occupa-
tion was completed in the reign of Nikephoros Phokas
(Nicephorus Phocas), the deliverer of Crete. In the very
year of his accession (963) Tauromenium was taken for the
second time, and became for a hundred jfears a Mi 'liammedan
possession. Rametta alone held out. A fleet and army
from Constantinople went in vain to its help ; the last
stronghold of Christendom was taken (965), and for a
season ^11 was over.
Thus in 138 years the Arab did what the Canaanite Lad
never done. The whole island was a Semitic, that is now
a Mohammedan, possession. The Greek -speaking Roman
of Sicily was a bondman in his own land, like the Latin-
speaking Roman of Spain. Yet the complete Saracen
possession of Sicily may seem a thing of a moment. Its
first and longest period lasted only 73 years. In that
time Mohammedan Sicily was threatened by a Western
emperor ; the Arabic writers claim the Saracen army by
which Otho the Second was beaten back in 982 as a Sicilian
army. A mightier enemy was threatening in the East.
Basil the Second planned the recovery of Sicily in good
earnest. In 1027 he sent a great army; but his death
stopped their progress before they reacjied the island.
But the great conqueror had left behind him men trained
in his school, and eleven years later the eagles of the new
Rome again marched to Sicilian victories. The ravages of
the Sicilian Saracens in the Greek islands were more fright-
ful than ever, and George JIaniakes, the first captain of his
time, was sent to win back the lost land. He too was
helped by Saracen dissensions. The emir Abul-afar became
a Roman vassal, and, like Alaric of old, became magister
militiim in the Roman army. His brother and rival Abu-
hafas brought help from Africa; and finallyall joined against
the Christians. Four years of Christian victory (1038-
1042) followed. In the host of Maniakes were men of all
races, — Normans, who had already begun to show them-
selves in south Italy, and the Warangian. guard, the best
soldiers of the empire, among whom Harold Hardrada
himself is said to have held a place. Town after town
was delivered, first Messana, then Syracuse, then a crowd
of others. The exact extent of the reconquest is uncertain ;
Byzantine writers claim the deliverance of the whole island ;
but it is certain that the Saracens never lost Panormus.
But court influence spoiled everything : Maniakes was
recalled; under his successor Stephen, brother-in-law of the
emperor Michael, the Saracens won back what they had lost.
Messana alone held out, for how long a time is uncertain.
But it could not have been again under the yoke for many
years when a conqueror came who had no empresses to
thwart him. The second Saracen occupation of all Sicily
was short indeed. In 1060 began the thirty years' work
of the first Roger.
Thus for 263 years the Christian people of some part
pr other of Sicily were in subjection to Moslem masters.
But that subjection differed widely in different times and
Ktcou-
quest 1
Easter
empire
S.ilf
umt«f
S.aract
rule. •
HISTORY. J
SICILY
placfes. The land was won bit by bit One town was
taken by storm ; another submitted on terms harsher or
more favourable. The condition of the Christians varied
from that of personal slaves to that of communities left free
on the payment of tribute. The great mass were in the
intermediate state usual among the non-Mohammedan sub-
jects of a Mohammedan power. The dhimm'i of Sicily were
in essentially the same case as the rayahs of the Turk.
While the conquest was going on, the towns that remained
nnconquered gained in point of local freedom. They be-
came allies rather than subjects of the distant emperor.
So did the tributary districts, as long as the original terms
were kept. But, as ever, the condition of the subject race
grew worse. After the complete conquest of the island,
while the mere slaves had turned Mobammedans, there is
nothing more heard of tributary districts. At the coming
of the Normans the whole Christian population was in the
state of rayahs. Still Christianity and the Greek t/^ngue
never died out ; churches and monasteries received and
held property ; there still are saints and men of learning.
Panormus was specially Saracen ; yet a Christian religious
guild could be founded there in 1048 {Tahularium Eegix
Cap. Panorm., p. 1 ). We have its Greek foundation deed.
It would be rash to deny that traces of other dialects may
not have lingered on ; but Greek and Arabic were the
two written tongues of Sicily when the Normans came.
The Sicilian Saracens were hindered by their internal feuds
from ever becoming a great power ; but they stood high
among Mohammedan nations. Their advance in civili-
zation is shown by their position under the Normans,
and above all by their admirable style of architecture (see
Palermo). Saracens are always called in for any special
work of building or engineering. They had a literature
which Norman kings studied and promoted. The Normans
in short came into the inheritance of the two most civilized
nations of the time, and they allowed the two to flourish
side by side.
The most brilliant time for Sicily as a power in the
■ world begins with the coming of the Normans. Never
before or after was the island so united or so independent.
Some of the old tyrants had ruled out of Sicily ; none
had ruled over all Sicily. The Normans held all Sicily
as the centre of a dominion which stretched far beyond it.
The conquest was the work of one man, Count Roger of
the nouse of Hauteville brother of the more famous Robert
Wiscard (Guiscard). That it took him thirty years was
doubtless owing to his being often called off to help his
brother in Italy and beyond Hadria. The conquests of the
Normans in Italy and Sicily form part of one enterprise ;
but they altogether differ in character. In Italy they over-
threw the Byzantine dominion; their own rule was perhaps
not worse, but they were not deliverers. In Sicily they
were everywhere welcomed by the Christians as delivercr.'j
from infidel bondage.
As in the Saracen conquest of Sicily, as in the Byzan-
tine recovery, so in the Norman conquest, the immediate
occasion was given by a hoipe traitor. Count Roger had
already made a plundering attack, when Bccumcn of
Catania, driven out by his brother, urged him to serious
invasion. Messina was taken in lOGO, and became for a
while the Norman capital. The Christians everywhere
welcomed the conqueror. But at Traina they presently
changed their minds, and joined with the Saracens to
besiege the count in their citadel. At Catania Bccumen
vras set np again as Roger's vassal, and he did good service
till ho was killed. Roger soon began to fix his eye on the
Saracen capital. Against that city ho had Pisan help, as the
inscription on the Pisan rfiiomc witnesses (cf. Geoff. Mai., ii.
34). But Palermo was not taken until 1071, and then only
by the help of Duka Robert, who kept the prize to himself.
Still its capture was the turning-point in the struggle.
Taormina (Tauromenium) was won in 1078. Syracuse^
under its emir Bcnarvet, held out stoutly. lie won back
Catania by the help of a Saracen to whom Roger had
trusted the city, and whom he himself puni.shed. Catania
was won back by the count's son Jordan. But progress
was delayed by Jordan's rebellion and by the absence of
Roger in his brother's wars. At last, in 1085, Syracuse was
won. Ne.Kt year followed Girgenti and Castrogiovanni,
whose chief became a Christian. Noto, the Saracen Ra-
metta, held out till 1090. Then the whole island was won,
and Roger completed his conquest by a successful expedition
to Malta.
Like the condition of the Greeks under the Saracens, so
the condition of the Saracens under the Normans differed
in different places according to the circumstances of each
conquest. The Mohammedan religion was everywhere
tolerated, in many places much more. But it would seem
that, just as under the Moslem rule, conversions from
Christianity to Islam were forbidden. On the other hand,
conversions from Islam to Christianity were not always
encouraged ; Saracen troops were employed from the begin-
ning, and Count Roger seems to have thought them more
trustworthy when unconverted. At Palermo the capitula-
tion secured to the Saracens the full enjoyment of their own
laws ; Girgenti was long mainly Saracen ; in Val di Noto
the Saracens kept towns and castles of their own. On
the other hand, at Messina there were few or none, and
we hear of both Saracen and Greek villains, the latter
doubtless abiding as they were in Saracen times. But
men of both races were trusted and favoured according tc
their deserts. The ecclesiastical relations between Greeks
and Latins are harder to trace. At the taking of Palermo
the Greek bishop was restored ; but his successors were
Latins, and Latin prelates were placed in the bishoprics
which Count Roger founded. Urban the Second visited
Sicily to promote the union of the church, and he granted
to the count those special ecclesiastical powers held by
the counts and kings of Sicily as hereditary legates of the
Holy See which grew into the famous Sicilian monarchy
(Geoff. Mai., iv. 29). But Greek worship went on ; at
Messina it lingered till the 14th and 15th centuries (Pirro,
Sicilia Sacra, i. 420, 431, 4'{9), as it has been since Ijrought
back by the Albanian colonists. But the Greeks of Sicily
have long been united Greeks, admitting the authority of
the see of Rome.
In its results the Norman conquest of Sicily was a Latin
conquest far more thorough than that which had been
made by the Roman commonwealth. The Norman princes
protected all the races, crecd.s, and tongues of the island,
Greek, Saracen, and Jew. But new races came to settle
alongside of them, all of whom were Latin as far as their
official speech was concerned. The Normans brought the
French tongue with them ; it remained the court speech
during the 12th century, and Sicily was thrown open to
all speakers of French, many of whom came from England.
There was constant intercourse between the two great
islands, both ruled by Norman kings, and many natives of
England filled high places in Sicily. But French was only
a language of society, not of business or literature. The
languages of inscriptions and documents are Greek, Arabic,
and Latin, in private .writings sometimes Hebrew. The
kings understood Greek and Arabic, and their deeds and
works were commemorated in both tongues. Hence comes
the fact, at first sight so strange, that Greek, Arul)ic, and
French have all given way to a dialect of Italian. But
the cause is not far to seek. The Norman conquest opened
Sicily to settlers from Italy, above all from the Norninn
posses,sions in Italy. Undo"- the name of Lomlmrds, they
became an important, in some party s dominant, clement.
26
S 1 C I L X
[history:
Thus at Messina, where we hear nothing of Saracens, we
hear much of the disputes between Greeks and Lombards.
The Lombards had hardly a distinct language to bring with
them. At the time of the conquest, it was already found
out that French had become a distinct speech from Latin;
iltalian hardly was such. The Lombard element, during
the Norman reign, shows itself, not in whole documents
or inscriptions, but in occasional words and forms, as in
some of the mosaics at Monreale. And, if any element,
Latin or akin to Latin, had lingered on through Byzantine
and Saracen rule, it would of course be attracted to the
new Latin element, and would help to strengthen it. It
was this Lombard element that had the future before it.
Greek and Arabic were antiquated, or at least isolated, in
a land which Norman conquest had made part of Western
Europe and Latin Christendom. They could grow only
within the island ; they could gain no strength from out-
side. Even the French element was in some sort isolated,
and later events made it more so. But the Lombard
element was constantly strengthened by settlement from
outside. In the older Latin conquest, the Latin carried
Greek with him, and the Greek element absorbed the Latin.
Latin now held in western Europe the place which Greek
had held there. Thus, in the face of Italian, both Greek
and Arabic died out. Step by step, Christian Sicily
besame Latin in speech and in worship. But this was
not till the Norman reigns were over. Till the end of
the 12th century Sicily was the one land where men of
divers creeds and tongues could live side by side, each in
his own way.
Hence came both' the short-lived brilliancy of Sicily and
its later decay. In Sicily there were many nations all
protected by the Sicilian king ; but there was no Sicilian
nation. Greek, Saracen, Norman, Lombard, and Jew
could not be fused into one people ; it was the boast of
Sicily that each kept his laws and tongue undisturbed.
Such a state of things could live on only under an en-
lightened despotism ; the discordant elements could not
join to work out really free and national institutions.
Sicily had parliaments, and some constitutional principles
were well understood. But they were assemblies of barons,
or at most of barons and citizens ; they could only have
represented the Latin elements, Norman and Lombard, in
the island. The elder races, Greek and Saracen, stand
outside the relations between the Latin king and his Latin
subjects. Still, as long as Greek and Saracen were pro-
tected and favoured, so long was Sicily the most brilliant of
European kingdoms. But its greatness had no ground-
work of national life ; for lack of it the most brilliant of
kingdoms presently sank below the level of other lands.
Four generations only span the time from the birth of
Count Roger, about 1030, to the death of the emperor
Frederick the Second in 1250. Roger,_great count of Sicily,
was, at his death in 1101, succeeded by his young son Simon,
and he in 1105 by the second Roger, the first king. He
inherited all Sicily, save half Palermo — the other half had
been given up — and part of Calabria. The rest of Palermo
was soon granted ; the Semitic capital became the abiding
head of Sicily. On the death of Duke William of Apulia,
Roger gradually founded (1127-40) a great Italian domi-
nion. To the Apulian duchy he added (1136) the Norman
principality of Capua, Naples (1138), the last dependency
of the Eastern empire in Italy, and (1140) the Abruzzi,
an undoubted land of the Western empire. He thus
formed a dominion which has been divided, united, and
handed over from one prince to another, oftener than any
other state in Europe, but whose frontier has hardly
changed at all. In 1130 Roger was crowned at Palermo,
by authority of the antipope Anacletus, taking the strange
'"■le of "king of Sicily and Italy." This, on his recon-
cilation with Pope Innocent the S'Jcond, he exchanged for
" king of Sicily and of the duchy of Apulia and of the prin-
cipality of Capua." By virtue of the old relations between
the popes ai 1 the Normans of Apulia, he held his kingdom
in fief of the Holy See, a position which on the whole
strengthened t'-e royal power. But his power, like that of
Dionysios and Agathokles, was felt in more distant regions.
His admiral George of Antioch, Greek by birth and creed,
warred against the Eastern empire, won Corfu (Korypho ;
the name of Korkyra is forgotten) for a season, and carried
off the silk-workers from Thebes and Peloponnesos to
SicUy. But Manuel Komnenos (Comnenus) ruled in the
past, and, if Roger threatened Constantinople, Manuel
threatened Sicily. In Africa the work of Agathokles was
more than renewed ; Mahadia and other points were won
and kept as long as Roger lived. Thes* exploits won
him the name of the terror of Greeks and Saracens. To
the Greeks, and still more to the Saracens, of his own
island he was a protector and something more.
Roger's son '\\'illiam, surnamed the Bad, was crownea Wuli*.
in his father's lifetime in 1151. Roger died in 1154, and '■ ""^
William's sole reign lasted till 1166. It was a time of
domestic rebellions, chiefly against the king's unpopular
ministers, and it is further marked by the loss of Roger's
African conquests. After William the Bad came (1166-
1189) his son William the Good. Unlike as were the
two men in themselves, in their foreign policy they are
hardly to be distinguished. The Bad William has a short
quarrel with the pope ; otherwise Bad and Good alike
appear as zealous supporters of Alexander the Third, and
as enemies of both empires. The Eastern warfare of the
Good is stained by the frightful sack of Thessalonica ; it
is marked also by the formation of an Eastern state under
Sicilian supremacy (1186). Corfu, the possession of
Agathokles and Roger, with Durazzo, Cephalonia, and
Zante, was granted by William to his admiral ilargarito
with the strange title of king of the Epeii'ots. He founded
a dynasty, though not of kings, in Cephalonia and Zante.
Corfu and Durazzo were to be more closely connected
with the Sicilian crown.
The brightest days of Sicily ended with William the
Gtood. His marriage with Joanna, daughter of Henry of
Anjou and England, was cluldless, and William tried to
procure the succession of his aunt Constance and her
husband, King Henry the SLvth of Germany, son of the
emperor Frederick the First, But the prospccl of Grerman
rule was unpopidar, and on Williams death the crown
passed to Tancred, an illegitimate grandson of King Roger, Tancrei
who figures in English histories in the story of Richard's
crusade. In 1191 Hem-y, now emperor, asserted ■ his
claims ; but, while Tancred lived, he did little, in Sicily
notljing, to enforce them. On the death of Tancred (1194)
and the accession of his young son William the Third, the Wilbai
emperor came and conquered SicUy and the Italian posses- ^
sions, with an amount of cruelty which outdid any earUer
war or revolution. First of four Western emperors who
wore the Sicilian crown, Henry died in 1197, leaving the
kingdom to his young son Frederick, heir of the Norman
kings through his mother.
The great days of the Norman conquest and the Norman
reigns have been worthily recorded by contemporary his-
torians. For few times have we richer materials. The
'oldest is Aim6 or Amato of Monte Cassino, who exists
only in an Old-French translation. We have also for the
Norman conquest the halting hexameters of William of
Apulia, and for the German conquest the lively and par-
tial verses of Peter of Eboli. Of prose writers we have
Geoffrey Malaterra,, Alexander abbot of Telesia, Romuald
archbishop of Salerrfo, Falco of Benevento, above all Hugo
Falcandus, one of the very foremost of mediaeval writer
HISTORY.]
SICILY
27
Not one of these Latin writers was a native of the island,
and we have no record from any native Greek. Occasional
notices we of course have in the Bj'zantine writers, and
Archbishop Eustathios's account of the taking of Thessa-
lonica is more than occasional. And the close connexion
between Sicily and England leads to many occasional refer-
ences to Sicilian matters in English writers.
Ths relations between the various races of the islands are
most instructive. The strong rule of Roger kept all in
order. He called himself the defender of Christians ;
others, on account of his favour to the Saracens, spoke of
him as a pagan. He certainly encouraged Saracen art and
literature in every shape. His court was full of eunuch^i,
of whom we hear still more under William the Bad. Under
William the Good the Saracens, without any actual oppres-
sion, seem to be losing their position. Hitherto they had
been one element in the land, keeping their own civiliza-
tion alongside of others. By a general outbreak on the
death of William the Good, the Saracens, especially those
of Palermo, were driven to take shelter in the mountains,
where they sank into a wild people, sometimes holding
points of the island against all rulers, sometimes taking
military service under them. The Jews too begin to sink
into bondmen. Sicily is ceasing to be the land of manv
nations living side by side on equal terms.
The Germans who helped Henry to win the Sicilian
crown did not become a new element in the island, but
finly a source of confusion during the minority of his son.
Frederick — presently to be the renowned emperor Freder-
ick the Second, "Fridericus stupor mundi et immutator
mirabilis "^was crowned at Palermo in 1198; but the
child, deprived of both parents, was held to be under the
protection of his lord Pope Innocent the Third. During his
minority the land was torn in pieces by turbulent nobles,
revolted Saracens, German captains seeking settlements,
the maritime cities of Italy, and professed French deli-
verers. In 1210 the emperor Otho the Fourth, who had
overrun the continental dominions, threatened the island.
In 1212, just when Frederick was reaching an age to be
of use in his own kingdom, he was called away to dispute
the crown of Germany and Rome with Otho Eight years
more of disorder followed ; in 1220 the emperor-king came
back. He brought the Saracens of the mountains back
again to a life in plains and cities, and presently planted a
colony of them on the mainland at Nocera, when they be-
came his most trusty soldiers. His necessary absences from
Sicily led to revolts. He came back in 1233 from his
crusade to suppress a revolt of the eastern cities, which
seem, like those of Italy, to liave been aiming at repub-
lican independence. A Saracen revolt in 1243 is said to
have been followed by a removal of the whole remnant
to Nocera. Some h&wever certainly stayed or came back ;
but their day was over.
Under Frederick the Italian or Lombard element finally
prevailed in Sicily. Of all his kingdoms Sicily was the
best-beloved. He spoke all its tongues ; he protected, as
far as circum.stances would allow, all its races. He legis-
lated for all in the spirit of an enlightened and equal des-
potism, jealous of all special privileges, whether of nobles,
churches, or eitic!'. The heretic alone was persecuted ; he
was the domestic rebel of the church ; Saracen and Jew were
entitled to the rights of foreigners. Yet Frederick, patron
of Arabic learning, suspected even of Moslem belief, fails
to check the decline of the Saracen element in Sicily.
The Greek element has no such forces brought against it.
It is still a chief tongue of the island, in which Frederick's
laws are put forth as well as in Latin. But it is clearly
a declining element. Greek and Saracen were both becom-
ing survivals in an island which was but one of the many
kingdoms of its king. No wonder that the Italian element
advanced at the cost of all others. Frederick chose it as
the court speech of Sicily, and he made it more than a
court speech, the speech of a new-born literature. Sicily,
strangely enough, became the cradle of Italian song.
Two emperors had now held the Sicilian crown. On
Frederick's death in 1250 the crown passed to his son
Conrad, not emperor indeed, but king of the Romans. He
was nominally succeeded by his son Conradin. The real
ruler under both was Frederick's natural son Manfred.
In 1258, on a false rumour of the death of Conradin,
Manfred was himself crowned king at Palermo. He had
to found the kingdom afresh. Pope Innocent the Fourth
had crossed into Sicily, to take advantage of the general
discontent. The cities, whose growing liberties had been
checked by Frederick's legislation, strove for practical, if
not formal, independence, sometimes for dominion over
their fellows. The 5th century B.C. seemed to have come
back. Messina laid waste the lands of Taormina, because
Taormina would not obey the bidding of Jlessina. Yet,
among these and other elements of confusion, Manfred
succeeded in setting up again the kingly power, first for
his kinsmen and then for himself. His reign continued
that of his father, so far as a mere king could continue
the reign of such an emperor. The king of Sicily was the
first potentate of Italy, and came nearer than any prince
since Louis the Second to the union of Italy under Italian
rule. He sought dominion too beyond Hadria : Corfu,
Durazzo, and a strip of the Albanian coast became Sicilian
possessions as the dowry of Manfred's Greek wife. But
papal enmity was too much for him. His overlord claimed
to dispose of his crown, and hawked it about among the
princes of the West. Edmund of England bore the Sicilian
title for a moment. More came of the grant of Urban
the Fourth (12G4) to Charles, count of Anjou, and through
his wife sovereign count of Provence. Charles, crowned
by the pope in 1266, marched to take possession of his
lord's grant. Manfred was defeated and slain at Bene-
vento. The whole Sicilian kingdom became the spoil of
a stranger who was no deliverer to any class of its people.
The island sank yet lower. Naples, not Palermo, was tlic
head of the new power ; Sicily was again a province.
But a province Sicily had no mind to be. In the con-
tinental lands Charles founded a dynasty ; the island he
lost after sixteen years. His rule was not merely the rule
of a stranger king surrounded by stranger followers ; the
degradation of the island was aggravated by gross oppres-
sion, grosser than in the continental lands. The conti-
nental lands submitted, with a few slight efforts at resist-
ance. The final result of the Angevin conquest of Sicily
was its separation from the mainland."
Sicilian feeling was first shown in the support given to
the luckless expedition of Conradin in 1268. Frightful
executions in the island followed his fall. The rights of
the Swabian house were now held to pass to Peter (Pe<lro),
king of Afagon, husband of Jfanfred's daughter Constance.
The connexion with Spain, which has so deeply affected the
whole later history of Sicily, now begins. Charles held
the Greek possessions of Manfred and had designs both on
Epeiros and on Constantinople. The emperor Michael
Palaiologos and Peter of Aragon became allies against
Charles ; the famous John of Procida acted as an agent be-
tween them ; the costs of Charles's IZnstem warfare caused
great discontent, especially in an island where some might
still look to the Greek emperor as a natural deliverer.
Peter and Michael were doubtless watching the turn of
things in Sicily ; but the tale of a long-hidden conspiracy
between them and the whole Sic'linn people has been set
aside by Amari. The actual outbreak of 1282, the famous
Sicilian Vespers, was stirred np by the wrongs of the
moment. A gross case of insult offered by a Frenchma*
28
SICILY
[histort.
to a Sicilian woman led to the massacre at Palermo, and
the like scenes followed elsewhere. The strangers were
cut off; Sicily was left to its own people. The towns
and districts left without a ruler by no means designed to
throw off the authority of the overlord ; they sought the
good will of Pope Martin. But papal interests were on
the side of Charles ; and he went forth with the blessing
of the church to win back his lost kingdom.
Angevin oppression had brought together all Sicily in a
common cause. There was at last a Sicilian nation, a
xiation for a while capable of great deeds. Sicily now stands
out as a main centre of European politics. But the land
lias lost its character ; it is becoming the plaything of
powers, instead of the meeting-place of nations. The tale,
true or false, that Frenchmen and Proven<;als were known
froirt the natives by being unable to frame the Italian
sound of c shows how thoroughly the Lombard tongue had
overcome the other tongues of the island. In Palermo,
once city of threefold speech, a Greek, a Saracen, a Norman,
who clave to his own tongue must have died with the
strangers.
Charles was . now besieging Messina ; Sicily seems to
have put on some approach to the form of a federal com-
monwealth. Meanwhile Peter of Aragon was watching
and preparing. He now declared himself. To all, except
the citizens of the great cities, a king would be acceptable ;
Peter was chosen with little opposition in a parliament at
Palermo, and a struggle of twenty-one years began, of
which Charles and Peter saw only the first stage. In fact,
after Peter had helped the Sicilians to relieve Messina, he
was very little in Sicily ; he had to defend his kingdom
of Aragon, which Pope Martin had granted to another
French Charles. He was represented by Queen Constance,
and his great admiral Koger de Loria kept the war away
from Sicily, waging it wholly in Italy, and making Charles,
the son of King Charles, prisoner. In 1285 both the rival
kings died. Charles had before his death been driven to
make large legislative concessions to his subjects to stop
the tendency showTi, especially in Naples, to join the re-
volted Sicilians. By Peter's death Aragon and SicOy were
separated ; his eldest son Alphonso took Aragon, and his
second son James took Sicily, which was to pass to the
third son Frederick, if James died childless. James was
crowned, and held his reforming parliament also. With
the popes no terms could be made. Charles, released in
1288 under a deceptive negotiation, was crowned king
of Sicily by Honorius ; but he had much ado to defend
his continental dominions against James and Eoger. In
1291 James succeeded Alphonso in the kingdom of Aragon,
and left Frederick not king, according to the entail, but
only his lieutenant in Sicily.
Frederick was the real restorer of Sicilian independence.
He had come to the island so young that he felt as a native.
He defended the land stoutly, even against his brother.
For James presently played Sicily false. In 1295 he was
reconciled to the church and released from all French
claims on Aragon, and he bound himself to restore Sicily
to Charles. But the Sicilians, with Frederick at their
head, disowned the agreement, and in 1296 Frederick was
crowned king. He had to defend Sicily against his brother
and Roger de Loria, who forsook the cause, as did John
of Procida. Hitherto the war had been waged on the
mainland ; now it was transferred to Sicily. King James
besieged Syracuse as admiral of the Roman Church ; Charles
sent his son Robert in 1299 as his lieutenant in Sicily,
Avhere he gained somp successes. But in the same year
the one great land battle of the war, that of Falconaria,
was won for Sicily. The war, chiefly marked by another
great siege of Messina, went on till 1302, when both sides
were thoroughly weakened and eager for peace. By a I
treaty, confirmed by Pope Boniface the ne.xt year, Frederick
was acknowledged as king of Trinacria for life. He was
to marry the daughter of the king of Sicily, to whom the
island kingdom was to revert at his death. The terms
were never meant to be carried out. Frederick again took
up the title of king of Sicily, and at his death in 1337 he
was succeeded by his son Peter. There were thus two Ten
Sicilian kingdoms and two kings of Sicily. The king of
the mainland is often spoken of for convenience as king of
Naples, but that description was never borne as a formal
title save in the 16th centuiy by Philip, king of England
and Naples, and in the 19th by Joseph Buonaparte and
Joachim Murat. The strict distinction was between Sicily
on this side the Pharos (of Messina) and Sicily beyond it.
Thus the great island of the Mediterranean again became
an independent power. And, as far as legislation could
make it, SicUy became one of the freest countries in
Europe. By the laws of Frederick parliaments were to
be regularly held, and without their consent the king could
not make war, jieace, or alliance. The treaty of 1302 was
not confirmed by parliament, and in 1337 parliament called
Peter to the crovna. But Sicily never rose to the greatness
of ib! Greek or its Norman days, and its old character had
passed away. Of Greeks and Saracens we now hear only
as a degraded remnant, to be won over, if it may be, to
the Western Church. The kingdom had no foreign pos-
sessions ; yet faint survivals of the days of Agathokles and
Roger lingered on. The isle of Gerba off the African coast
was held for a short time, and traces of the connexion with
Greece went on in various shapes. If the kings of Sicily
on this side the Pharos kept Corfu down to 1386, those
beyond the Pharos became in 1311 overlords of Athens,
when that duchy was seized by Catalan adventurers, dis-
banded after the wars of Sicily. In 1530 the Sicilian
island of Malta became the shelter of the Knights of Saint
John driven by the Turk from Rhodes, and Sicily has
received several colonies of Christian Albanians, who have
replaced Greek and Arabic by yet another tongue.
There is no need to dwell at length on the Sicilian Sabs
history of the last five hundred years. The descendants Ql"'!!
of Irederick ^id not form a great dynasty. Under him and ^'*
after him Sicily played a part in Italian aflfairs, invading
and being invaded on behalf of the Ghibelline cause. But
it was torn by dissensions between Spanish and Italian fac-
tions, and handed to and fro between one Spanish king
and another. At last Ferdinand the Catholic (1479-1515),
king by inheritance of Aragon and of Sicily beyond the
pharos, conquered the continental Sicily, and called himself
king of the Two Sicilies. Both were now ruled by Spanish
viceroys. In Charles the First (1516-1555) — Charles of
Anjou is not reckoned — Sicily had a third imperial kiua.
and once more became the starting-point for African war-
fare. Philip, already king of Naples, became king of the
Two Sicilies at the abdication of his father, and the two
crowns passed along with Castile and Aragon till the
division of the Spanish dominions. Under the foreign
rule the old laws were tiampled under foot. Three risings
took place, that of Messina in 1672, with pretended French
help, which led to deeper subjection. At the death of
Charles the Second in 1700, Sicily acknowledged tha
French claimant Philip ; but the peace of Utrecht made it
the kingdom of Victor Amadeus of Savoy (1713-1720).
He was crowned at Palermo ; but he had to withstand
Spanish invasion, and to exchange Sicily for the other
insular cro'ivn of Sardinia. Both Sicilies now passed to
the emperor Charles the Sixth, the fourth imperial king,
who also is passed by in Sicilian reckoning. Charles th«
Third is the Spanish prince of the house of Bourbon who
won both Sicilies from the Austrian, and who was the last
king crowned at Palermo (1735).
VOL. XX n.
SICILY
PI^'lTEU.
^
■pQi-e ?9
ci
flKOOKAPHY.J
J5 1 C I L Y
29
The wares of the French Revolution again parted the Two
Sicilies. In 1798 Ferdinand the Fourth (1759-1825)
withdrew to the island before the French armies. In
1605 he withdrew again, while Joseph Buonaparte and
Joachim Ilurat reigned on the mainland as kings of Naples.
Under the Bourbon rule, besides the common grievances
of both kingdoms, Sicily had specially to complain of being
treated as subordinate to Naples. But from 1806 to 1815
Sicily, practically a separate kingdom under British pro-
tection, enjoyed a measure of wellbeing such as it had not
had for some ages, and in 1812 a constitution was estab-
lished. The European settlement of 1815 brought back
the Bourbon to his continental kingdom. Ferdinand the
First became a constitutional king over the United King-
dom of the Two Sicilies. This was equivalent to the
suppression of the separate constitution of the island,
and before long all constitutional order was trodden
under foot. In 1820, and also in 1836 under Francis the
First, Sicily rose for freedom and separation. This last
time the island was bound yet more firmly to continental
rule. In the general stir of 1848 Sicily again proclaimed
her independence, and sought for herself a king in the
house of Savoy. Again were the liberties of Sicily
trodden under foot; and, in the last change of all, the
deliverance wrought by Garibaldi in 1860, if not her
liberties, her ancient memories were forgotten. Sicily
became part of a free kingdom ; but her king does not
bear her style, and he has not taken the crown of Roger.
The very name of Sicily has been wiped out; and the
great island now counts only as seven provinces of an
Italian kingdom.
The literature bearing on Sicily, old and new, is endless. It is
something for a land to have had part of its story told by Thucy
dides and another by Hugo Falcandus. Of modem books Holm's
Oeschichle Sicilicns im AUerihum (down to the accession of the
second Hieron) is of great value. So are the works of Michele
Amari for the Moslem occupation- and the War of the Vespers.
The old local historian Fazzello miist not be passed by, nor'tte.
eollections of Carusio, Pirro, and Giovanni. But a history of Sicily
and the cycles of its history from the beginning is still lacking.
The writers on particular branches of the subject are infinite. Gaily
Knight's Normans in, Sicily has probably led many to their first
thought? on the subject ; and, as a guide for the traveller, that of
Gsel-feU can hardly bo outdone. (E. A. F.)
Part II. — Geography and Statistics.
The island of SicUy (Ital. Skilia) belongs to the kingdom
of Italy, being separated from the mainland only by the
narrow (about 2 miles wide) but deep Straits of Messina.
It is nearly bisected by the meridian of 14° E., and by
far the greater part lies to the south of 38° N. Its
southernmost point, however, in 36° 40' N. is 40' to the
north of Point Tarifa, the southernmost point of Spain
and of the continent of Europe. In shape it is triangular,
whence the ancient poetical name of Trinacria, referring
to its three promontories of Pelorura (now Faro) in the
north-cast, Pachynum (now Passaro) in the south-east, and
Lilybseum (now Boeo) in the west. Its area, exclusive of
the adjacent small islands belonging to the compartimento,
is, according to the recent planimetrical calculation of the
Military Geographical Institute of Italy, 9860 .square miles,
—considerably less than one-third of that of Ireland ; that
of the whole compariimenlo is 9935 square miles.
The island occupies that part of the Mediterranean in
which the shallowing of the waters divides that sea into
two basins, and in which there are numerous indications
of- frequent changes in a recent geological period. Tho
channel between Capo Bon in Tunis and the south-west of
Sicily (a distance of 80 miles) i."*, on the whole, shallower
tnan the Straits of Messina, being for tho most part under
100 fathoms in depth, and exceeding 200 fathoms only
for a very short interval, while the Straits of Messina,
which are at their narrowest part less than 2 mUes in
width, have almost everywhere a depth exceeding 150
fathoms. The geological structure in the neighbourhood
of this strait shows that the island must originally have
been formed by a rupture between it and the mainland,
but that this rupture must' have taken place at a period
long antecedent to the advent of man, so that the nane
Rhegium cannot be based even on the tradition of any
such catastrophe. The mountain range that runs out
towards the north-east of Sicily is composed of crystalline
rocks precisely similar to those forming the parallel range
of Aspromonte in Calabria, but both of these are girt
about by sedimentary strata belonging in part to an early
Tertiary epoch. That a subsequent land connexion took
place, however, by the elevation of the sea-bed there is
abundant evidence to show ; and the occurrence of the
remains of African Quaternary mammals, such as Elephas
nieridionalis, E. dntiquus, Hippopotamus pentlandi, as well
a,s of those of stUl living African forms, such as Elephas
africanns and Hysena crocuta, makes it probable that there
was a direct Dost-Tertiary connexion also with the African
continent.
The north coast is generally steep and cliffy and abun-
dantly provided with good harbours, of which that of
Palermo is the finest. In the west and south the coast
is for the most part flat, more regular in outline, and less
favourable to shipping, while in the east, where the sea-
bottom sinks rapidly down towards the eastern basin of
the Mediterranean, steep rocky coasts prevail except op-
posite the plain of Catania. In the northern half of this
coast the lava streams of Mount Etna stand out for a
distance of about 20 miles in a line of bold cliffs and
promontories. At various points on the east, north, and
west coasts there are evidences of a rise of the land having
taken place within historical times, at Trapani on the west
coast even within the 19th century. As in the rest of the
Mediterranean, tides are scarcely observable ; but at several
points on the west and south coasts a curious oscillation
in the level of the waters, known to the natives as the
marrobbio (or marobia), is sometimes noticed, and is said
to be always preceded by certain atmospheric signs This
consists in a sudden rise of the sea-level, occasionally to
the height of 3 feet, sometimes occurring only once, some-
times repeated at intervals of a minute for two hours, or
even, at Mazzara, where it is most frequently observed, for
twenty-four hours together.
The surface of Sicily lies for tho most part more than
500 feet above the level of the sea. Caltanissetta, which
occupies the middle point in elevation as well as in respect
of geographical situation, stands 1 900 feet above sea-level.
Considerable mountains occur only in the north, where
the lower slopes of all the heights form one continuous
series of olive-yards and orangeries. Of the rest of the
island the greater part forms a plateau varying in eleva-
tion and mostly covered with wheat-fields. The only
plain of any great extent is that of Catania, watered by
the Simeto, in the east ; to the north of this plain the
active volcano of Etna {q.v.) rises with an exceedingly
gentle slope to the height of 10,868 feet from a base 400
square miles in extent. This is the highest elevation of
the island. The steep and narrow crystalline ridge which
trends north-eastward.s, and is known to geographers by
the name of tho Peloritan Mountains, does not reach 4000
feet. The Ncbrodinn Mountains, a limestone range con-
nected with the Peloritan range and having an erst and
west trend, rise to a somewhat greater height, and farther
west, about the middle of the north coast, the Madonio
(the only one of the groups mentioned which has a native
name) culminate at the height of nearly 6500 feet. From
the western end of the Nebrodian Mountains a lower range
30
SICILY
[geography.]
(in some places under 1500 feet in height) winds on the
whole south-eastwards in the direction of Cape Passaro.
"With the exception of the Simeto, the principal perennial
streams — the Salso, the Platani, and the Belici — enter the
sea on the south coast.
Of the sedimentary rocks of Sicily none are eailier than the
■Secondary period, ethI of the older Secondary rocks there are oniy
(Comparatively small patches of Tria.'Mc and Jurassic age — most
Abundant in the west but also occurring on the flanks of the
tnountains in the north-east. Cretaceous rocks are very sparingly
represented (in the south-east), and by far the greater part of the
isknd is occupied by Tertiary (mainly Eocene and Miocene) lime-
stones. The Neljrodian Mountains are mainly composed of com-
pact limestones of 01i"ocene date, but are itauked by Eocene rocks
including the nummulitic limestone. Quatemaiy deposits border
many of-the bays, and the plain of Catania is ■wholly covered irith
recent alluvium. Basalts and basaltic tufas border this plain on the
south, as the ancient and modern lavas of Etna do on the north.
The climate of Sicily resembles that of the other lands in the
extreme south of Europe. As regards temperature, it has the Tvarm
and equable character which belongs to most of the Jlediterranean
region. At Palermo (where continuous observatious hive been
made since 1791) the range of temperature between the mean of
the coldest and that of the hottest month is little greater than at
Greenwich. The mean temperature of January (51^° Fahr.) is nearly
as high as that of October in the south of England, that of July
(77° Fahr.) about 13° warmer than the corresponding month at
Greenwich. During the whole period for wluch observations have
been made the thermometer has never been observed to sink at
Palermo below the freezing-point ; still frost does occur in the
island even on the low grounds, though never for more than a few
hours. On the coast snow is seldom seen, but it does fall occasion-
ally. On the Madouie it lies till June, on Etna till July. The
aniiual rainfall except on the higher mountains does not reach 30
inches, and, as in other parts of the extreme south of Europe, it
occurs chiefly in the winter months, while the three summer months
(Jme, July, and August) are almost quite dry. During these
months the whole rainfall does not exceed 2 inches, except on the
slopes of the mountains in the north-cast. Hence most of the
streams dry up in summer. The chief scourge is the sirocco, which
is experienced in its most characteristic form on the north ooast,
as an oppressive, parching, hot, dry wind, blomng strongly and
steadily from the south, the atmosphere remaining through the
whole period of its duration leaden-coloured and hazy in conse-
quence of the presence of immense quantities of reddish dust. It
occurs most frequently in April, and then in May and September,
but no month is entirely free from it. Three days are the longest
period for which it lasts. The same name is sometimes applied to
a moist and not very hot, but yet oppressive, south-east wind
which blows from time to time on the east coast. Locally the
salubrity of the climate is seriously afl'ected by the occurrence of
inalaria, regarding which important evidence was furnished to a,
Government commission of inquiry by officials of the Sicilian rail-
ways. From this it appears that the whole of the north-east coast
ffrom Catania to Messina is perfectly free from malaria, and so also
is the line on the north coast from Palermo to Termini ; and,
singularly enough, while these parts of the low jTOund are free,
malarial regions are entered upon in certain places qa soon as the
railway begins to ascend to higher levels. Such is the case with
the line which crosses the island from Termini to Girgenti ; -aud
on the line which asceuds from Catania to Castrogiovanni it is
foimd that the stations become more and more unhealthy as the
line ascends to Leonforte, and at that station so unhealthy are the
nights that it is necessaiy to convey the employes by a special
train every evening to Castrogiovanni (at the height of more than
,3000 feet), and to bring them back by another train in the morning.
The flora of Sicily is remarkable for its wealth of species ; but,
COmpaiiug Sicily with other islands that have been long separated
from the mainland, the number of endemic species is not great. The
orders most abundantly represented are the CoTnjyotntse, Crucifcrx,
Labiatx, Caryophijllaceie, and Scrophulariaceas. The Rosacese are
also abundantly represented, aud among them are numerous species
of the rose. The general aspect of the vegetation of Sicily, however,
has been greatly affected, as in other parts of the Mediterranean,
ty the introduction of plants within historical rimes. Being more
densely populated than any other large Mediterranean island, and
having its population dependent chiefly on the products of the soil,
it is necessarily more extensively-cultivated than any other of the
larger islands referred to, and many of the objects of cultivation
are not originally narives of the island. Not to mention the olive,
wliich must have been introduced at a remote period, all the
members of the orange tribe, the agave, and the prickly pear, as well
as other plants highly characteristic of Sicilian scenery, have been
introduced since the beginidng of the Christian era. With respect
to vegetation and cultivation three zones may be distinguished. The
first reaches to about 1600 feet abore sea-level, the upper limit of the
• members of the orange tribe ; the second ascenas to about 3300 feet,
the limit of the growth of wheat, the vine, and the hardier ever-
greens ; and the third, that of forests, reaches from about 3300 feet
upwards. But it is not merely height that determines the general
character of the vegetation. The cultivated trees of Sicily mostly
demand such an amount of moisture as can be obtained only on the
mountain slopes, and it is worthy of notice that the structure of
the moimtaius is peculiarly favom^able to the supply of this ■n'ant.
The limestones of which they are mostly composed act like a
sponge, absorbing the rain-water through their innumerable pores
and fissures, and thus storing it up in the interior, aftemards to
allow it to well forth in springs at various elevations lower down.
In this way the inigation which is absolutely indispensable for the
members of the orange tiibe during the dry season is greatly
facilitated, and even those trees for which irrigation is not so
indispensable receive a more ample supply of moisture during tho
rainy season. Hence it is that, -while the plain of Catania is almost
treeless and tree-cultivation is comparatively limited in the west
and south, where the extent of land under 1600 feet is consider-
able, the whole of the north and north-east coast from the Bay of
Castellamare round to Catania is an endless succession of orchard*,
in which oranges, citrons, and lemons alternate with olives, almonds,
Samegranates, figs, cai'ob trees, pistachios, mulberries, and vines,
ranges are specially important as an ex]X)rt crop, and the vgiue
of this product has enormously increased since steamers began to
traverse the Mediterranean. Olives are even more extensively
cultivated, but more for home consumption. The limit in height
of the olive is about 2700 feet, and that of the vine about 3500.
A considerable sQk production depends on the cultivation of th&
mulben-y in the neighbourhood of Messina and Catania. One of
the most striking features in the commerce of the island is the very
large proportion of southern fmits sent to the United States, whence
petroleum is chiefly imported. Among other trees and slirubs of
importance may be mentioned the deep-rooted sumach, which is
adapted to the driest regions, the manna ash (Fraxinus omvs), the
American Opuntia imhjaris or prickly pear aud the agave — the
former of whieh yields a favourite article of diet with the natives,
and both of wliich thrive on tlie driest soil — the date-)ialm, the
plantain, various bamboos, cycads, and the dwarf-palm, the last of
which grows in some parts of Sicily more profusely than anywhere
else, and in the desolate region in the south-west yields almost the
only vegetable product of import;ince. The Arundo JDmiax^ the
tallest of European grasses, is largely grown for vine-stakes. The
forests on the nigher slojies of the mountains are chiefly of oak, ^
with which are associated large numbers of the fruit-trees of central
Europe, and on Etna and the Madouie chestnuts.
Outside of the tree region wheat is by far the most important Ceitals,
product. At the present day Sicily is still a rich granarj', as it
was in ancient times when Greek colonies flouiished in the south
and east, and later under the supremacy of Rome. In all three-
fourths of the cultivated surface are estimated to be covered witli
cereals, and it is tlie cultivation of wheat more particularly which
determines in most places the character of the Sicilian landscape
throughout the year. The maquis, or thick-leaved stunted ever-
greens, which on the other ilediterranean islands withstand this
summer drought, have been almost banished from Sicily by the
extent of the wheat cultivation. ■ Oats and barley are also grown,
but maize scarcely at all, for, being a summer crop, it is almost
entirely excluded from cultivation by the extreme drought of that
season. Beans form in spring the chief food of the entire popula-
tion. Flax is grown for its seed (linseed), and the Crocus salims
for the production of saflTron. On the plain of Catania cotton is
grown along with wheat, and among other sub -tropical products
sugar (probably introduced by the Arabs about the lOtli century) and
tobacco are still of some importance ; but the cultivation of rice has
greatly declined, in consequence of its tendency to produce malaria.
The native fauna of SicDy is similar to that of Southern Italy.
Amoug domestic animals mules and asses are very important as
beasts of burden. At the enumeiation of 10th January 1876
mules numbered in Sicily 112,115 out of a total of 2S3,SC8 belong-
ing to the kingdom of Italy ; the number of asses at the same
date was 82,702 out of a total of 674,246 in the kingdom. The
horses, sheep, and cattle are all of indiff'erent quality. Tunny
and sardine fisheries are carried on round the coasts.
Manufacturing industry is little developed in the island, am
besides agriculture mining is the only important occupation of th
people. The chief mineral is sulphur, SicUian suljdiur being indcc*
the most valuable mineral product of Italy. There arc about 300
mines in operation in the provinces of Girgenti, Caltanissctta,
Catania, and Palermo, employing about 27,000 people. The sulphur
is found in a particular formation of the Upper Jliocene, and is
separated from the ore by fusion in a primitive kind of furnace
called calcaroni, in most of which part of the sulphur is used m
fuel. With the exception of a small quantity, which is used in the
island for the vineyards, all the sulphur is exported, chiufly to
England, France, Belgium, and tho United States and the produc-
tion goes on increasing, notwithstanding the lowering of the price.
S I C~S I c
31
Juo to tbe extraction of sulphur from iron pyrites obtained elsewhere.
Before 1860 the annual production did not exceed 150,000 tona,
while in 1880 it exceeded 300,000 tons, and in 1S84 almost reached
400,000 tons. It is estimated that at least 50,000,000 tons are
still available in the island. Besides sulphur, rock salt, the annual
production of which is about 3000 tons, is the only important
mineral product of the island ; but not less than 170,000 tons of
bay salt are made in the salt-pans of Trapani and other parts of
the west coast. The rock salt is principally excavated near Racal-
mnto, Casteltermini, and Traboua.
The cmnparilmenla of SicJy is divided into seven provinces, the
area and population of which are given in the following table : —
Provinces.
Area in
Bq. miles.
No. of
Com-
muues.
Pop. 1381.
Pop. per
sq. mile.
Caltanissetta
1270
1921
1165
1246
19SS
■"439
929
28
«3
41
97
76
32
20
266,379
663,467
210
292
312,487 268
460,924 370
099,161 352
841,526 2.17
283,977 306
TrapaDi
0958
367
2,927,901
294 1
The areas here given are those of Strelbitsky for 1S81, these giving
a total which agrees better than the old official figures with the
total calculated by the Military Geographical Institute, which has
not yet made any calculations for the iudividual provinces. The
volcanic Lipari or jEolian Islands to the north of Sicily are included
in the province of Messina ; the island of Ustica to the north-west
in that of Palermo ; the jEgadic group (Lat. Iiisulie Agates), con-
sisting of a number of limestone islands in the west, in that of
Trapani, from which the nearest is separated by a channel not more
than nine fathoms in depth ; and to the same province belongs also
Pantelleria, midway between Sicily and Africa.
The prosperity of the island, due chiefly to the stimulation of
the cultivation of southern fruits by the extension of commerce
in recent years, is shown by the fact that since 1861 the population
has increased more rapidly than that of any other part of the king-
dom. In 1861 the tolal population was 2,392,414, and in 1871
2,584,099. Thus' the annual rate of inciea.se was 7'74 per thousand
as against 6'91 for the whole kingdom ; while between 1871 and
1881 the annual increase was at the rate of 12'62 per thousand for
Sicily as against 6'02 for tlie whole kingdom. The number of
emigrants is smalL In 1SS2 the number of emigrants proper (those
who declared their intention of remaining out of the country for
more than one year) was 2261 out of 65,748 for the whole king-
dom, that of the temporary emigrants 954 as compared witli 95,814.
The population, which in consequence of the chequered history
of the island is necessarily a very mixed one, is said to be on the
whole well disposed and industrious. The lawlessness indicated
by the continued existence of the secret society called the Mcfia,
which, like the Camorra of the Neapolitan provinces of the main-
land, overrides the law in taking vengeance on those who have
rendered themselves obnoxious to it, is a relic of former misrule,
and is diminishing under the present Government. The condition
of the peasantry still shows some of the injurious results of Spanish
rile, under which the feudal system was introduced in its worst
form. The nobles, who then acquired large landed properties, col-
lected their serfs or retainers round their own castles, so that a
number of considerable towns grew up, and the country districts
were to a large extent deserted. The cultivatora of the soil had
often to walk 10 or 12 miles from their homes to their fields. It
is chiefly from this cause that even at the present day the people
of the island are mainly congregated in towns, containing not less
than 5000 inhabitants each. Ilie three principal towns of Sicily
and the chief seats of its foreign commerce are Palermo (population,
with suburbs, 244,991 in 18S1), Catania (100,417), and Messina '
(81,049), and the next in size are Marsala (40,251), Acireale (38,547),
Trapani (38,231 ; the headquarters of the coral-fishers of Italy),
Caltanissetta (25,027), Syracuse (23,507), Sciacca (22,195), Girgenti
(20,008; the centre of the trade in sulphur), Castrogiovanui (18,981),
Licata (17,565), Terranova (17,173).
The backward state of education is another consequence of former
misrule. In 1881 6r59 per cent of the inhabitants above twelve
years of age were still unable to read and write {analfabclt), and in
1880-81 the number of pupils in the elementary public schools was
only 101,724, or nearly 1 in 29 of the wliole population, as against .
about 1 in 15 for the whole kingdom. Here, however, as in other
parts of Italy, improvement is going on in this respect, for the
percentage of the people of Sicily above twelve years old unable
to read and WTite was 67-59 in 1871 and 73-12 in 1861.
The system of roads and railways is still defective. One line of Corn-
railway proceeds along the east coast from Messina to Syracuse, muaico-
amd a branch ascends from it to join one of the lines which cross tion.
the middle of the island fiom north to south. Of these there are
two, — one fiom Licata and one from Porto Empedocle, both on the
south coast ; these lines meet before touching the north coast a
little to the east of Termini ; thence the railway proceeds along
the north coast to Palermo and Castellaniare, whence it recrosses
the island again to Maz^ara, and afterwards follows the west coast
northwards to Trapani. A project is now (1886) entertained for
the connexion of the railways of Sicily with those of the mainland
by a tunnel under the Straits of ilessina.
See W.'H. Smyth, Sicily and its Islands, London, 1824; Tlieo. Fischer, Beitr.
z. phijs. Gcogr. ft. Millflmeerldtuler, hcsomlers Siciliens, Leipsic, 1877 ; Id.,
" Das"^ Klinia der Mittelineerl.inder," in Ergaii^ungsband xiii. of Pttermann'i
MiUheilKnijen, Gotha, 1879. A complete account of Etna is given in Arnold
von Lasaulx's edition of Der Aetna, by W. Sartoiius von Waltcrsliausen, l.eipsic,
2 vols., 16S0. The best topographical ni.Tp of Sicily is that based on Govern-
ment surveys on the scale of 1 : 50,000: and on a small scale (1 :SOO,000) that
in Baedeker's Italy is of peculiar excellence. The geology of the island is
shown in a single sheet in the Carta Geotogica delta Sicilia netla Scala di
t :CQO,OUO, and in more detail on the scale of 1 : 100,000 in twenty-seven sheets
(not yet completed). Sec also for tlie geology and currents of the Straits of
Blessina the " Schizzo Geologico dello Btretto di Messina cotia Indicazione delle
Correnti Marine," in the Botktino del R. Comitate Gtolvgito d' Italia, 13th year,
Rome, 1882. Regarding the minerals, see the third vol. of / Tesori sotte)Tan«i
deW Italia by V. Jcrvis. Turin, 1881. (G. G. C.)
SICKmGKN', Franz von (U81-1523)> a powerful Ger-
man baron, 'was born at Sickingen, Baden, the ca.stle of his
family, on 1st March 1481. He i\'as the greatest of those
Rhenish knights who held their lands immediately of the
emperor, and ■was much esteemed by Maximilian I. and by
Charles V., to both of whom he rendered good service in
war. He held the position of imperial councillor and
chamberlain, and Won great fame as a protector of the
poor and the oppressed. In 1517 ho was put under the
ban of the empire in con-sequcnce of a war with the imperial
city of Worms. Afterwards he carried on wars with the
duke of Lorraine, the imperial city of Metz, the landgrave
Philip of Hes.se, and Duke Ulrich of Wiirtemberg. For
a short time he was disposed to serve Francis I. of Fro nee,
from whom he receired a pension ; but in the impsrial
election of 1519 Sickingen exercised his intiuence on
behalf of Charles V., and in 1521 he took a pi-oininent
part, with the count of Nassau, in the war with France.
In 1522 an assembly at Landau elected him head of the
confederation of lUienL'h and Swabian barons. Ho was
an enthusiastic adherent of the Humanists and Reformers,
and when Luther seemed to be in dange- offered to pro-
vide for him a place of safety. Through he influence of
Ulrich von liutten, Sickingen formed a \ ist scheme for
the overthrow of the spiritual and temporal princes,
his intention being that all Germany should be brought
into immediate subjection to the emperor. He was so
popular among the landskneclite or mercenary foot soldiers
of the time that he had no difficulty in bringing together
a powerful army ; and in Sei)tember 1522 he began the
war by attacking the archbishop of Treves. Much alarm
was excited by this sudden movement, and the landgrave
Philip and the palsgrave Louis hastened to the aid of the
besieged prelate, and compelled Sickingen to withdraw
from Treves. He bad hoped that the baron-s, the peasantry,
and the cities -n'ould rise in support of his designs, but in
this e.xpectation he was dLsappointed. Fortress after for-
tress was taken from him, and at last, in April 1523, he
was besieged in the tower of Landstuhl near Kaiserslautern.
During the bombardment he was mortally wounded, and
on 7th May 1523 he died, having capitulated almost im-
mediately before. Willi his defeat and death the Barons'
War came to an end. His sou was made a count of the
empire [Reicksfreiherr) by Maximilian II., and a descend-
ant was raised in 1773 by .Jcseph II. to the rank of
Rtnchn'jraf. One lino of the family continued to po-ssess
immediate estates in the lordship of Landstuhl down to
1803.
SICKLE. See SriTiiE.
SICYON was a city in the east of Achaia, Grccc,
about 2 miles inland from the Corinthian Gulf, situated
on and below a hill in the angle formed by the confluence
35
S I D — S I D
)f the rivers Asapus and Helisson ; the site is now occu-
Died by the village of Vasilika. It possessed a harbour
Dn the coast round which was a well-fortified town, which
was almost a suburb of the main city- (Six vwvi'wv Xi/i?;!').
The ancient and native form of the name was 2«kiiwi'.
The earliest inhabitants were lonians ; but it was con-
quered by the Dorian invaders of Argolis, who extended
their dominion over Corinth, Sicyon, and the whole valley
of the Asopus. Phalces, son of the first Dorian king of
Argos, Temenus, was said to have been the conqueror of
Sicyon and founder (oIkuttij's) of the Dorian city, which,
like Corinth, probably continued for a long time subject
to the powerful kings of Argos. The population of the
Dorian Sicyon was divided into four tribes ; the Dorian
conquerors constituted three — viz., the usual Dorian tribes
Hylleis, Dymanes, and Pamphyli — and a part of the pre-
Dorian population constituted the fourth tribe, which was
called ^gialeis. (Previous to the Dorian conquest the
city bore, according to Strabo, the name iEgiali, or ac-
cording to Pausanias iEgialeia.) The rest of the ancient
population were reduced to the state of serfs, called Karuiva-
KQ(f>6poi or Kopvvrj<f>6poi, whose position was similar to that
of the Helots in Sparta. As in most of the cities of
Greece, the conflict between the aristocracy and the com-
mons, who were superior in number but inferior in organiza-
tion, in education, and in power, resulted in the rise of
a dynasty of tyrants, the Orthagoridse, who destroyed the
rule of the Dorian oligarchy and reigned in Sicyon for
a century, from about 665 B.C. Under the strong hand
of these dynasts Sicyon attained great wealth. Lying
near the great commercial centre Corinth, and possessing
a harbour, it shared in the immense development of trade
with the Italian peninsula which took place in the 8th and
7th centuries. Its marine was considerable, though ap-
parently never of the first rank ; at a later time it serkt
fifteen triremes to fight against the Persians at Salamis.
The bronze work of Sicyon was renowned, as Strabo
meations ; and we may gain some conception of its style
from some of the bronzes found at Olympia, which have
probably been fabricated either at Sicyon or in the closely
connected workshops of Argos. The Daedalid sculptors
Dipoenus and Scyllis from Crete settled in Sicyon about
the beginning of the 6th century, and gave the first im-
pulse to a school of art, working mainly in bronze or in
wood covered with bronze, which lasted for some genera-
tions at Sicyon, Corinth, and Argos, and played a very
prominent part in the development of Greek art. The
early bronze work of the Sicyo-Argive workshops in all
probability formed the model after which the Hesiodic
description of the Shield of Hercules was composed by a
poet of the 7th century. The fame of Sicyonian bronze
work gave rise to the epithet TeAx"''-''i which was some-
times applied to the city. Terra-cotta vases which have
been fabricated at Sicyon are found in Etruria, whither
they were exported in the Italian trade. They closely
resemble in style the vases of Corinth, from which they
are distinguished by the peculiar form of the letter epsilon
in the inscriptions painted on them, and they usually
belong to the 6th century. The market-gardens of the
fertile Asopus valley supplied the populous Corinth with
fruit and vegetables. At least in later times the fine
shoes made in Sicyon were widely used in Greece. In the
4th century Sicyon continued to be one of the foremost
states in an artistic point of view. The Sicyonian school
of painting was founded by Eupompus, and some of the
greatest foreign artists, such as Pamphilus and Apelles,
studied in it. Lysippus also, who gave a new impulse and
tone to Greek sculpture, was a native of Sicyon.
In the dynasty of the Oithagoridap Andreas began to reign about
565, his son Myron before 64S ; of Aristoiiymus, son of Myron,
nothing is known ; Myron II., son of Aristonymns, reigned seven
years ; Isodamus, brother and murderer of Myron II., reigned a
short time, and about 596 was replaced by his younger brother
Clisthenes, who ruled till about 665. The dynasty ended with
Clisthenes, who had no sou ; but his institutions continued in
force for sixty years longer, until Sicyoij came under the influence
of the Peloponnesian confederacy, in which the Dorian Sparta wa^
the chief power. The policy of the Orthagorid^ had always been
strongly anti- Dorian, and under the Dorian reaction the most
unfavourable colour was given to their actions ; hence grew the
extremely unpleasant picture of them in the pages of Herodotus,
who gives the current Peloponnesian accounts of the 5th century.
These accounts are contraaicted by the long rule of the dynasty
and the permanence of their policy after their extinction. Myron
I. won a chariot-race at Olympia in 648, and dedicated a bronze
BaXa/io! (probably a large chest or yaUKos covered with bronze),
with an inscription, which Pausanias saw in the Olympian treasury
of the Sicyonians. The building of this treasury is ascribed to him
by Pausanias, but excavation has shown that the building is not
earlier than 500 ; it consists of a simple cella with a pronaos in
ardis, and is built of Sicyonian stones, cut and numbered at Sicyon,
and thence transported by water to Olympia. Clisthenes was the
most powerful and famous of the Sicyonian despots, and he con-
tinued the anti-Dorian policy of his predecessors ; but, as we have
seen, it is impossible to trust the details of his action as given by
Heroiiotus (v. 67). He is said to have forbidden the rhapsodists
to recite the epics in which the fame of Dorian heroes was sung,
and to have encouraged the worship of Dionysus, a non-Dorian
deity. Another object of his policy was to secure the favour of
the Delphian oracle, and he used all his power in the Sacred War
on the side of Delphi against Crissa (590 B.C.). He won a victor}'
in the chariot-race at Delphi in 582. Clisthenes had no son, nnil
he desired to obtain the noblest of the Greeks as a husband for his
daughter Agariste. The story of the wooing of Agariste as it was
current in Athens, probably in poetic form, has been preserved by
Herodotus. Clisthenes, when declared victor at the Olympian
games (572 or 568), invited the best of the Greeks to Sicyon.
Twelve representatives from all parts of Greece (whose names are
chosen by the poet with little regard to chronological possibility)
assembled there and spent a year as guests of Clisthenes. First
among them all were two Athenians, one of whom, ilegacles the
Alcmseonid, was at last preferred to his rival Hippoclides ; and
the careless remark of the latter, " Hippoclides cares not," became
proverbial. Megacles and Agariste were parents of Clisthenes,
who became famous after 510 as the second founder of the Athenian
democracy, ami their grand-daughter Agariste was mother of the
still more famous Pericles. When Sicyon again came under the
Dorian influence shortly before 500, the oligarchical form of govern-
ment was reintroduced and lasted till about 369, when the de-
mocracy was again established ; but its form was used bj' Eui'hron
to exercise his own power, and after him a series of tyrants ruled
the city, till in 251 Aratus reintroduced the democratic government
and Sicyon joined the Achsean league. Under the Roman rub'
Sicyon profited by the destruction of Corinth in 146 B.C. ; it receive>l
fart of the Corinthian tenitory together w-ith the presidency of the
sthmian games. But it sank into decay as Corinth revived, and
was almost depopulated when Pausanias visited it in the 2d centur}-
after Christ. Among tlie bishoprics of the Byzantine time New
Sicyon occurs regularly ; it is probable that this was a town on a
new site near the old city. (W. M. RA.)
SIDDONS, Sarah (1755-1831), English actress, was
the eldest of twelve children of Roger Kemble, the manager
of a company of strolling players, and his wife Sarah Ward,
and was born in the " Shoulder of Mutton " public-house,
Brecon, Wales, 5th July 1755. Through the special care of
her mother in sending her to the schools in the towns where
the comjjany played she received a remarkably good educa-
tion, although she was accustomed to make her appearance
on tie stage while still a mere child. She became attached
to William Siddons, an actor of the company ; but this
was discountenanced by her parents, who wished her to
accept the ofi'er of a squire. Siddons was dismissed from
the company, and she was sent to a situation as lady's maid
in Warwickshire ; at last, however, the necessary consent
was obtained and the marriage took place at Trinity Churchy
Coventry, on 26th November 1773. It was while play-
ing at Cheltenham in the following year that Mrs Siddon.s
met with the arliest decided recognition of her great
powers P.S an ai -ress, when by her representation of Belvi-
dera in Venice Preserved she moved to tears a party of
" people of quality " who had come to " scoff." Her meriU
s r D — S I D
33
were made known by them to Garrick, who sent his deputy
to Cheltenham to report regarding her abilities, the result
being that she was engaged to appear at Drury Lane at a
salary of £5 a week. Owing to inexperience as well as
other circumstances, her first appearances as Portia and
in other parts were unfortunate, and when, after playing
with success in Birmingham, she was about to return to
town she received a note from the manager of Drury Lane
stating that her services would not be required. Thus, in
her own words, " banished from Drury Lane as a worthless
candidate for fame and fortune," she again in the beginning
of 1777 went "on the circuit" in the provinces. After a
very successful engagement at Bath from 1778 to 1782,
she again accepted an ofifer from Drury Lane, when her
appearance in Southern's Isabella was one continued tri-
umph, only equalled in the history of the English stage
by that of Garrick's first night at Drury Lane in 1741
and that of Edmund Kean's in 1814. In her earlier years
it was in scenes of a tender and melting character that she
exercised the strongest sway over an audience ; but in the
performance of Lady Macbeth, in which she appeared
February 1785, it was the grandeur of her exhibition of
the more terrible passions as related to one awful purpose
that held them spellbound. In Lady Macbeth she found
the highest and best scope for her gifts. It fitted her as
BO other character did, artd as perhaps it will never fit
another actress. Her extraordinary and peculiar physical
endowments — tall and striking figure, brilliant beauty,
powerfully expressive eyes, and solemn dignity of demean-
our— enabled her to confer a weird majesty on the character
which inexpressibly heightened the tragic awe surround-
ing her fate. After Lady Macbeth she played Desdemona,
Hosalind, and Ophelia, all with great success ; but it was in
Q.ueen Catherine — which she first played on her brother's
sjiectacular revival of Henri/ VIII. in 1788 — that she dis-
ojvered a part almost as well adapted to her peculiar
powers as that of Lady Macbeth. In her early life she
bftd attempted comedy, but her gifts in this respect were
V ery limited. It was of course inevitable that comparisons
should be made between her and her only compeer Rachel,
irho undoubtedly excelled her in intensity and the por-
tra}"al of fierce passion, but was a less finished artist and
licked Mrs Siddons's dignity and pathos. Though Mrs
Jliddons's minute and systematic study perhaps gave a cer-
tiin amount of stifTness to her representations, it conferred
on them a symmetry and proportion to which Rachel never
attained. Mrs Siddons formally retired from the stage
29th Juno 1812, but occasionally appeared on special
occasions even when advanced in years. In private life
she enjoyed the friendship and respect of a wide circle,
including many of the most eminent persons of her time.
She died at London on 8th June 1831.
See Thomas Campliell, Life of Mrs Siddons (2 vols., 1834); Fitz-
gerald, The Kcmbles (3 vols., 1871); and Frances Ann Kemble,
Records of a Girlhood (3 vols., 1878).
SIDI-BEL-ABBES, chief town of an arrondissement in
the department of Oran, Algeria, lies 48 miles by rail to
the south of that town, at an elevation of 1552 feet above
sea-level, on the right bank of the Mekcrra (afterwards the
Sig), and surrounded by a plain which is dominated by
the escarpments of Mount Tessala. The town, encircled by
a crenellated and bastioned wall with a fosse, is traversed
from east to west and from north to south by two wide
streets shaded Ijy plane trees ; the gates are four in number,
named from Oran, Daia, Mascara, and Tlemcen respectively.
There are numerous fountains fed from the Mckerra. The
civil and military quarters of the town are quite distinct
from one another. The jiopulation of Sidi-bel-Abbfcs in
1881 was 13,298, or, including the commune, 16,840;
the Spanish considerably preponderates over the French
•2I--6
element. The town, Trhich is of quite recent origin, de-
rives its name from a chapel, near which a redoubt was
constructed by General Bedeau in 1843. The surrounding
country is healthy, fertile, and populous.
SIDMOUTH, ViscouxT. See Addington, Henky;
SIDNEY, or Sydney, Algernon (1622-1683), was the
second son of Robert, second earl of Leicester, and of
Dorothy Percy, daughter of Henry, earl of Northumber-
land, and was born at Penshurst, Kent, in 1622. As a
boy he showed much talent, which was carefully trained
under his father's eye. In 1632 with his elder-brother he
accompanied his father on his mission as ambassador ex-
traordinary to Christian TV. of Denmark, whom he saw at
Rendsburg. In May 1636 Sidney went with his father to
Paris, where he became a general favourite, and from there
to Rome. In October 1641 he was given a troop in his
father's regiment in Ireland, of which his brother. Lord
Lisle, was in command. In August 1643 the brothers
returned to England. At Chester their horses were taken
by the Royalists, whereupon they again put out to sea and
landed at Liverpool. Here they were detained by the
Parliamentary- commissioners, and by them sent up to
London for safe custody. T^^lether this was intended by
Sidney or no, it is certain that from this time he ardently
attached himself to the Parliamentary cause. On 10th
May 1644 he was made captain of horse in Manchester's
army, under the Eastern Association. ^^. He was shortly
afterwards made lieutenant -colonel, and charged at the
head of his regiment at Marston Moor (2d July), where he
was wounded and rescued with diiEculty. On 2d April
1645 he was given the command of a cavalry regiment
in Cromwell's division of Fairfax's army, was appointed
governor of Chichester on 10th May, and in December
was returned to parliament for Cardiff. In July 1646
his regiment was ordered to Ireland, and he was made
lieutenant-general of horse in that kingdom and governor
of Dublin. Leaving London on 1st February 1647, Sidney
arrived at Cork on the 22d. He was soon (8th April),
however, recalled by a resolution of the House passed
through the interest of Lord Inchiquin. On 7th May he
received the thanks of -the House of Commons. On 13th
October 1648 he was made lieutenant of Dover castle, of
which he had previously been appointed governor. He
was at this time identified with the Independents as op-
posed to the Presbyterian party. He was nominated one
of the commissioners to try Charles I., but took no part in
the trial, retiring to Penshurst until sentence was pro-
nounced. That Sidney approved of the trial, though not
of the sentence, there can, however, be little doubt, for in
Copenhagen he publicly and vigorously expressed his con-
currence. On 15th May 1649 he was a member of the
committee for settling the succession and for regulating
the election of future parliaments. Sidney lost the gover-
norship of Dover, however, in Jlarch 1651, in consequence,
apparently, of a quarrel with his officers. He then went to
The Hague, where he quarrelled with Lord Oxford at play,
and a duel was only prevented by their friends. Ho re-
turned to England in the autumn, and henceforward took
an active share in parliamentary work. On 25th November
Sidney was elected on the council of state and was evi-
dently greatly considered. In the usurpation of Cromwell,
however, he utterly refused all concurrence, nor would he
leave his place in parliament cxce!)t by force when Crom-
well dispersed it on 19th April 1653. Ho immediately
retired to Penshurst, where he was concerned chiefly with
family affairs. In 1654 lie again went to The Hague, and
there became closely acquainted with Do Witt. On his
return he kept entirely aloof from public affairs niul it ii
to this period that the Essay on Love is ascribed.
Upon the restoration of the Long Parliament, 7th May
34
SIDNEY
1659, Sidney again took his seat, and was placed on the
council of state. He showed himself in this office especi-
ally anxious that the military power should be duly sub-
Drdinated to the civil. On 5th June he was appointed
one of three commissioners to mediate for a peace between
Denmark supported by Holland and Sweden. He was
probably intended to watch the conduct of Montague,
who v.'as in command of the Baltic squadron. Of his
character we have an interesting notice from WTiitelocke,
who refused to accompany him on the ground of his "over-
ruling temper and height." Upon the conclusion of the
treaty he went to Stockholm as plenipotentiary ; and in
both capacities he behaved with resolution and address.
When the restoration of Charles II. took place Sidney left
Sweden, 3Sth June 1660, bringing with him from the king
of Sweden a rich present in testimony of the estimation in
which he was held. Sidney went first to Copenhagen, and
then, being doubtful of his reception by the English court,
settled at Hamburg. From there he wrote a celebrcted
letter vindicating his conduct, which will be found in the
Somers Tracts. He shortly afterwards left Hamburg, and
passed through Ge;-many by way of Venice to Rome. His
stay there, however, was embittered by misunderstandings
with his father and consequent straits for money. Five
shillings a day, he says, served him and two men very
well for meat, drinx, and firing. He devoted himself
to the study of books, birds, and trees, and speaks of his
natural delight in solitude being largely increased. In
1663 he left Italy, passed through Switzerland, where he
visited Ludlow, and came to Brussels in September, where
his portrait was painted by Van Egmondt ; it is now at
Penshurst. He had thoughts of joining the imperial
service, and offered to transport from England a body of
the old Commonwealth men ; but this was refused by the
English court. It is stated that the enmity against him
was so great that now, as on other occasions, attempts
were made to assassinate him. On the breaking out of
the Dutch war Sidney, who was at The Hague, urged an
invasion of England, and shortly afterwards went to Paris,
where he offered to raise a rebellion in England on receipt
of 100,000 crowns. Unable, however, to come to terms
with the French Government, he once more went into
retirement in 1666, — this time to the south of France.
In August 1670 he was again in Paris, and Arlington
proposed that he should receive a pension from Louis ;
Charles II. agreed, .but insisted that Sidney should return
to Languedoc. In illustration of his austere principles it
is related that, Louis having taken a fancy to a horse
belonging to him and insisting on possessing it, Sidney
shot the animal, which, he said, "was born a free creature,
had served a free man, and should not be mastered by a
king of slaves." His father was now very ill, and after
much difficulty Sidney obtained leave to come to England
in the autumn of 1677. Lord Leicester died in November;
and legal business connected with other portions of the
succession detained Sidney from returning to France as he
had intended. He soon became involved in political in-
trigue, joining, in general, the country party, and holding
close communication with Barillon, the French ambassador.
In the beginning of 1679 he stood for Guildford, and was
warmly supported by William Penn, with whom he had
long been intimate, and to whom he afTorded assistance in
drawing up the constitution of Pennsylvania. He was
defeated by court influence, and his petition to the House,
complaining of an undue return, never came to a decision.
His Letters to Henry Savile, written at this period, are of
great interest. He was in Paris, apparently only for a
short while, in November 1679. Into the prosecution of
the Popish Plot Sidney threw himself warmly, and was
•anong those who looked to Monmouth, rather than to
Orange, to take the place of James in the succession
though he afterwards disclaimed all interest in such a
question. He now stood for Bramber (Sussex), again with
Penn's support, and a double return was made. He is
reported on 10th August 1679 as being elected for Amers-
ham (Buckingham) with Sir Roger Hill. When parlia-
ment met, however, in October 1680, his election was
declared void. But now, under the idea that an alliance
between Charles and Orange would be more hostile to
English liberty than would the progress of the French
arms, he acted with Barillon in influencing members of
parliament in this sense, and is twice mentioned as receiv-
ing the sum of 500 guineas from the ambassador. Of
this there is no actual proof, and it is quite possible that
Barillon entered sums in his accounts with Louis which
he never paid away. In any case it is to be remembered
that Sidney is not charged with receiving money for ad-
vocating opinions which he did not enthusiastically hold.
Upon the dissolution of the last of Charles's parliaments
the king issued a justificatory declaration. This was at
once answered by a paper entitled A Jiist and Modest Vin-
dication, <i-c., the first sketch of which is imputed to Sidney.
It was then, too, that his most celebrated production, the
Discourses concerning Government, was concluded, in which
he upholds the doctrine of the mutual compact and
traverses the High Tory positions from end to end. In
especial he vindicates the propriety of resistance to kingly
oppression or misrule, upholds the existence of an here-
ditary nobility interested in their country's good as the
firmest barrier against such oppression, and maintains
the authority of parliaments. In each point the English
constitution, which he ardently admires, is, he says, suffer-
ing : the prerogatives of the crown are disproportionately
great ; the peerage has been degraded by new creations ;
and parliaments are slighted.
For a long while Sidney kept himself aloof from the
duke of Monmouth, to whom he was introduced by Lord
Howard. After the death of Shaftesbury, however, in
November 1682, he entered into the conferences held be-
tween Monmouth, RusseU, Essex, Hampden, and others.
That treasonable talk went on seems certain, but it is
probable that matters went no further. The watchfulness
of the court was, however, aroused, and on the discovery
of the Rye House Plot, Sidney, who had always been
regarded in a vague way as dangerous, was i rested while
at dinner on 26th June 1683 His papers were carried
off, and he was sent at once to the Tower on a charge of
high treason. For a considerable while no evidence could
be found on which to establish a charge. Jeffreys, how-
ever, was made lord chief -justice in September ; a jury
was packed ; and, after consultations between the judge
and the crown lawyers, Sidney was brought to listen to
the indictment on 7th November. The trial, which began
on 21st November, was conducted with a shameless absence
of equity : Sidney was refused a copy of the indictment,
in direct violation of law, and — more shameful still — he
was refused the assistance of counsel. Hearsay evidence
and the testimony of the perjured informer Lord Howard,
whom Sidney had been instrumental in introducing to his
friends, were first produced. This being insufficient, partiaJ
extracts from papers found in Sidney's study, and supposed
only to be in his handwriting, in which the lawfulness of
resistance to oppression was upheld, were next relied on.
He was indicted for " conspiring and compassing the death
of the king." Sidney conducted his case throughout with
great skill ; he pointed especially to the fact that Lord
Howard, whose character he easily tore to shreds, was the
only witness against him as to treason, whereas the law
required two, that the treason was not accurately defined,
that no proof had been given that the papers produced
S I D — S I D
35
were bis, and that, even if that were proved, these papers
were in no way connected with the charge. Against the
determination^ to secure a conviction, however, his courage,
eloquence, coolness, and skill were of no avail, and the
verdict of " guilty " was given. On 25th November Sidney
presented a petition to the king, praying for an audience,
which, however, under the influence of James and Jeffreys,
Charles refused. On the 26th he was brought up for
judgment, and again insisted on the illegality of his con-
viction. Upon hearing his sentence he gave vent to his
feelings in a few noble and beautiful words. Jeflfreys
having suggested that his mind was disordered, he held
out his hand and bade the chief-justice feel how calm and
steady his pulse was. By the advice of his friends he
presentecl a second petition, offering, if released, to leave
the kingdom at once and for ever. The supposed necessity,
however, of checking the hopes of Monmouth's partisans,
caused the king to be inexorable. The last days of Sidney's
life were spent in drawing up his Apology and in discourse
•with Independent ministers. He was beheaded on the
imorning of 7th December 1683. His remains were buriel
at Penshurst. (o. A.)
SIDNEY, SiK Philip (1.55-1-1586), although killed at
the early age of thirty-two, was one of the most conspicu-
ous figures at the court of Elizabeth, was known to the
leading statesmen of Europe as a soldier and statesman of
the highest promise, took a permanent place in history
and legend as a romantic hero, and in literature is dis-
tinguished as the author of the first important body of
English sonnets and a writer whose works mark a distinct
advance in English prose. He was born at Penshurst in
Kent on 29th November 1554. His father was Sir Henry
Sidney, famous in his time as an administrator of Ireland,
his mother a Dudley, sister of Elizabeth's favourite, the
earl of Leicester, and daughter of the earl of Northum-
berland executed for high treason in the reign of Mary.
Thus Sidney was of notable kindred on both sides —
" Others, because of both sides I do take
My blood from them who did excel in this.
Think Nature me a man-at-arms did make." '
He received his scholastic education at Shrewsbury
school and at Christ Church, Oxford. He was entered at
Shrewsbury on the same day with his lifelong friend and
biographer Fulke Greville; afterwards Lord Brooke. In
1572 he set out with three years' leave of absence to com-
plete his education by Continental travel ; he was in Paris
at the house of the English ambassador on the night of the
massacre of St Bartholomew, and went thence to Frankfort,
Vienna, and the chief cities of Italy. During these travels
he a.ssociated with scholars and statesmen, mailing an earnest
study of European politics, winning golden opinions for his
youthful gravity and .sagacity. From that time Hubert
Languet, the Reformer, whom he met at Frankfort, main-
tained a constant correspondence with him. On Ins return
he wag introduced at court, won the favour of Elizabeth,
who considered him " one of the jewels of her crown,"
and, in proof of the versatility which made him one of the
wonders of his age, wrote a masque. The Lady of the May,
for Leicester's great reception of the queen at Kcnilwortli,
and distinguished himself in the tournament upon the
same occasion. In 1577, at the age of twenty-two, being
sent as ambassador in great state to congratulate and
sound Rudolph II., the new emperor of Germany, he met
William the Silent, who pronounced him one of the ripest
.statesmen in Europe. He returned in the following year,
and from that ti*e till the expedition to the Netherlands,
in which he lost his life, ho had no public employment,
but lived partly .at court, partly at his country scat at
' AilTophd and Stella, sonnet 41.
Penshurst in Kent. In 1583 he married the daughter
of Sir Francis Walsingham, who after his death became
countess of Essex. His most memorable interference in
state affairs was a bold letter of remonstrance to Elizabeth
against her suspected policy of marrying the duke of
Anjou. The queen's anger at his boldness drove him for
a time into retirement. He was a strong advocate of in-j
tervention on the Protestant side, and in 1585 accom-,
panied Leicester in his expedition to the Netherlands, and
was appointed governor of Flushing, one of the towns held
by the queen as security. The historical truth of the
famous incident at the battle of Zutphen (22d September
1586), when the wounded hero passed a cup of water to a
dying soldier, has been questioned; but it is matter of
fac. that he owed his death to an impulse of romantic
generosity. The lord marshal happening to enter the
field of Zutphen without greaves, Sidney cast off his als<v
to put his life in the same peril, and thus exposed himself
to the fatal shot. His death took place fifteen days later
on 7th October 1586, at Arnhemi.
No poet's death was ever so lamented by poets as Sidney's
Pastoral elegy was in fashion, and all the numerous poets aiM
rhymesters of the time from Spenser to Davison hastened to lay
their tribute of verse on the bier of this the darling of aU the
shepherds —
" With whom all joy and jolly merriment
Is also deaded and in dolour drent."
That^ere was much more than the worship of his rank and his
bright eager personality in this is shown by the lasting reputation
of what he wrote during the two years of retirement, 1580-81, which
he seems to have given mainly to literature. The truth is that
Sidney transferred liis own strong, radiant, graceful, and lovablf
character to his writings with a freshness and fidelity such as feur
finished artists have achieved, so that he really and literally lives
in them to charm for ever. None of his writings were publishecl
during his lifetime, aud the dates of composition are uncertaiu-
But it would seem that Sidney's first attempt at verse was a metri
cal version of the Psalms, written in conjunction with his sister,
the countess of Pembroke, — "Sidney's sister, Pembroke's motlicr."
The worth of these paraphrases, which have all Sidney's qualities
of sincerity, directness, aud sweetness of rhythm, has recently been
recognized by llr Ruskiu, who has edited them under the title of
Rock Honeycomb in the second voluiue of his Bihliothcca Pastorum.
(1877). Sidney's famous prose romance, The Countess of Pembroke t
Arcadia, the " vain amatorious poem " with which Charles I.
solaced his imprisonment, was also begun iu 1580. It was pub-
lished in 1590, aud kept its popularity as Iwug as tliat kind of
high-flown sentiment and intricate adventure found readers. The
buoyancy and freshness of Sidney's style give a certain air of reality
even to the artificial scenes of the Arcadia, and many pretty songs
are interspersed through the work. Sidney's greatest poetic achieve-
ment, however, was the series of sonnets entitled Astrophcl ctnt
Stella, the first important body of sonnets in the English language.
The sonnets, 110 in number, are a chronicle of the poet's love for
Penelope Devereux, sister of the earl of Essex, afterwards Lady
Rich. He first met the lady when she was a child of twelve at one .
of the stages in Elizabeth's progress to Kenihvorth in 1575. A
match was apparently arranged between them by their families,
but upon Leicester's disgrace it was broken off aud Penelope was-
given to Lord Rich. Sidney seems then to liave discovered that
he was in love with her. 'Whetlier the passion was real or fcigne<I
for artistic purposes is of little consequence, although the reality of
it has been liotly maintained ; he writes as if it were real, aud tli«
verisimilitude of the story recorded iu the sonnets, which express
his varyinc; moods towards her throughout the incidents of sub-
sequent intercourse and the distractions of his jiubUo life, adds
greatly to tlieir interest. Very few of the sonnets will bear separa-
tion from the context, though there is hardly one that does not
contain some sweet ingenuity of fancy or casual felicity of phrase-
Some of them were special favourites with Charles Lamb. SidnoyV
other work during this busy literary ]ias.s!ige in liis short life, the
Apoloyie for Pvclrie, has also established itself as a classic.
Tho best of the sonnets arc sclceted by Mm Ward, in W«rd» Engluh ''"^^
Mr Main also nialtos a good selection in Ids Trensxtr}i of Etioiisli Honiitls, 'TW
sonnctji were proVvibly WTitton in 15SI ; they were not p\ibliblicd till 1691, whrn
they formed tlio llrst in n brilliant serlca of volumes of sonnol lll.reluro (m»
"Elizabethan Sonneteers." in Minto's ChamcUrislia 0/ EngliA I'xtt). T\im
Apohgie is included in Arbor's roprints.'
SIDON (Arab. Saida), long the princiiml city of
Pno;NiciA (q.v.), and even in tho Middle Ages a place of
importance, but now little more than a mere village, is
situated on the Syrian coast in 33° 36' N. lat. and 36' 20r
36
S I D — S I K
5" E. long., about midway between Sur (Tyre) and Beirut
(Beyrout). The ancient city extended some 800 yards
farther inland, over ground now occupied ' by luxuriant
fruit-gardens, on the produce of which the inhabitants of
the town live. In front of the fiat promontory to which
the modern Sidon is confined there stretches northwards
and southwards a rocky peninsula ; at the northern ex-
tremity of this begins a series of small rocks enclosing the
harbour, which at present is a very bad one, having been,
to some extent at least, purposely filled up. The port was
formerly protected on the north by the Kal'at el-Bahr
("Sea Castle"), a building of the 13th century, situated
upon an island still connected with the mainland by a
bridge. On the south side of the town lay the so-called
Egyptian harbour, now quite useless. The wall by which
Sidon is at 'present surrounded is pierced by two gates,
those of Beirut and Akko (Acre) ; at the south-eastern
angle, upon a heap of rubbish, stand the remains of the
citadel. The streets are very narrow, and the buildings
of any interest are few ; most prominent are some large
caravanserais belonging to the period of Sidon's modern
prosperity, and the large mosque, formerly a church of
the Knights of St John. Sidon looks best from the north.
Of its 9000 inhabitants 7000 are Mohammedans ; there
are a number of institutions conducted by Catholic and
Protestant Christians. In the neighbourhood are large
Phoenician burial-places, -which have been partially explored
by Renan ; the natives also engage in the search for anti-
quities. The principal finds are sarcophagi, and next to
these sculptures and paintings. The most important dis-
covery hitherto made has been that of the sarcophagus of
Eshmunazar with a long inscription ; it is now (1886) in
the Louvre.
Ill 637-638 Sidon was taken by the Arabs.- During the crusades
it was alternately in possession of the Franks and the Moham-
medans, but finally fell into the hands of th» latter in 1291. As
the residence of the Druse emir Fakhr ed-Din, it rose to some
prosperity about the beginning of the 17th century, but towards
the close of the l8th its commerce again passed away, principally
to Beirut (Beyrout), and the prosperity of Sidon has ever since been
steadily dec!i:rirg.
See Renan, Mission de Phiniciet Paris, 1865.
SIDONIUS APOLLINAEIS. See Apollinakis
Stpon'us.
SIEBENBURGEN. See Teanstlvania.
SIEBOLD, Cakl Theodoe Eenst von (1804-1885),
physiologist and zoologist, the son of a physician and a
descendant of what Oken called the "Asclepiad family
3f Siobolds," was born at Wiirzburg on 16th February
1804. .Educated in medicine and science chiefly at the
university of Berlin, he became successively professor of
foology, physiology, and comparative anatomy in Konigs-
berg, Erlangen, Freiburg, Breslau, and ^Munich. In con-
junction with Stannius he published (1845-48) a Manual
of Comparative Anatomy, which is still of solid value; and
jlong with KoUiker he founded in 1848 a journal which
joon took and still retains a leading place in biological
literature, Zeitsclirift far loissenschaftliche Zoologie. He
was also a laborious and successful helminthologist (see
Paeasitism) and entomologisti in both capacities contri-
buting many valuable papers to his journal, which he
continued to edit until his death in 1885. In these ways,
without being a man of marked genius, but rather an in-
dustrious and critical observer, he came to fill a peculiarly
distinguished position in science, and was long reckoned,
what his biographer justly calls him, the Nestor of German
zoology. See Ehlers, Zeitschr. f. wiss. ZooL, 1885.
SIEBOLD, Philip? Feanz von (1796-1866), scientific
jxplorer of Japan and elder brother of the physiologist
noticed above, was. bom at Wiirzburg, Germany, on 17th
February 1796.. He studied medicine and natural science
at Wiirzburg, and obtained his doctor's diploma in 1820.
In 1822 he entered the service of the king of the Nether-
lands as medical officer to the East Indian army. On
his arrival at Batavia he was attached to a new mission
to Japan, sent by the Dutch with a view to improve their
trading relations with that country. Siebold was well
equipped with scientific apparatus, and he remained in
Japan for six years, with headquarters at the Dutch settle-
ment on the little island of Deshima. His medical quali-
fications enabled him to find favour with the Japanese,
and he gathered a vast amount of information concerning
a country then almost as little known as Corea, especially
concerning its natural history and ethnography. He had
comparatively free access to the interior, and his reputation
spreading far and wide brought him visitors from all parts
of the country. His valuable stores of information were
added to by trained natives whom he sent to collect for
him in the interior. In 1824 he published De Uistorist
Naturalis in Japonia Statu and in 1832 his splendid
Fauna Japonica. His knowledge of the language enabled
him also in 1826 to issue from Batavia his Epitome Lingux
Japonicx. In Deshima he also laid the foundation of his
Catalogus Lihrorwn Japonicorum and Jsagoge in Biblio-
thecam Japonicam, published after his return to Europe,
as also his Bibliotheca Japonica, which, with the co-opera-
tion of J. Hoffmann, appeared at Ley den in 1833. During
the visit which he was permitted to make to Yedo (Tokio),
Siebold made the best of the rare opportunity ; his zeal,
indeed, outran his discretion, since, for obtaining a native
map of the country, he was thrown into prison and com-
pelled to quit Japan on 1st January 1830. On his return
to Holland he was raised to the rank of major, and in
1842 to that of colonel. After his arrival in Euro2:ie he
began to give to the world the fruits of his researches
and observations in Japan. His .Nippon; Archiv zur
Beschreibung von Japan und d^ssen Neben- und Schutz-
Landem was issued in five quarto volumes of text, ^vith
six folio volumes of atlas and engravings. He also issued
many fragmentary papers on various aspects of Japan. In
1854 he published at Leyden Urkundliche Darstellung der
Bestrebungen Niederlands und Russlands zur Erqffnung
Japans. In 1859 Siebold undertook a second journey to
Japan, and was invited by the emperor to his court. In
1861 he obtained permission from the Dutch Government
to enter the Japanese service as negotiator between Japan
and the powers of Europe, and in the same year his eldest
son was made interpreter to the, English embassy at Yedo.
Siebold was, however, soon obliged by various intrigues
to retire from his post, and ultimately from Japan. Re-
turning by Java to Europe in 1862, he set up his ethno-
graphical collections?, which were, ultimately secured by
the Government of Bavaria and removed to. Munich. He
continued to publish papers on various Japanese subjects,
and received honours from many of the learned societies
of Europe. He died at Munich on 18th October 1866.
Siebold until recent years was our great authority on
Japan, and even now Lis writings on the natural history
of that country have not been superseded.
See biography by Moritz Wagner, in Allgcmeine Zeitung, I3th
to 16th November 1866.
SIEDLCE (Russ. Syedlets), a government of Russian
Poland, between the Vistula and the Bug, having Warsaw
on the N.W., Lomza on the N., Grodno and Volhynia on
the E., Lublin and Radom on the S. Its area is 5535
square miles. The surface is mostly flat, only a few hilly
tracts appearing in the middle, around ^iata, and in the
east on the banks of the Bug. Extensive marshes prevail
in the north and south-east. Chalk, Jurassic, and Tertiary
deposits cover the surface, and are overlain ' in their
turn with widely spread Glacial deposits. The valley of
S 1 E— S I E
37
the Vistula is mostly wide, with several terraces covered
with sand-dunes or peat-bog. Siedlce is watered by the
Vistula, which borders it for 50 miles on the west; the
Bug, which is navigable from Opalin and flows for 170
miles on the east and north-east borders of the province ;
the Wieprz, a tributary of the Vistula, which is also navi-
gable, and flows for 25 miles along the southern boundary;
and the Liwiec, a tributary of the Bug, which is navigable
for some 30 miles below WengrofF.
Of the total surface of the governinent only 184,760 acres are
linproductive J 695,420 acres are covered with forests; 1,703,100 are
iinaer crops, and 611,260 under meadows and pasture land. Tlie
iwpulation only increases at tlie rate of 0'75 per cent, a year, and
Jn 1884 numbered 630,240; of these Poles constituted 397 per
cent., Little Russians 43-1, Jews 15-1, and Germans about 2.
According to religious belief they were distributed as follows : —
out of 616,649 inhabitants in 1882 there were 367,187 Catholics,
142,945 Orthodox Greeks, 96,764 Jews, 8892 Protestants, 505
Baptists, and 356 Mohammedan Tatars. Agriculture is the chief
occupation; in 1881 the crops yielded 1,531,400 quarters of corn and
10,988,400 bushels of potatoes. Cattle-breeding is in a relatively
flourishing state, there being (1881) 57,500 horses, 292,670 horned
cattle, 461,700 sheep, and 194,100 pigs. Manufactures are insigni-
ficant (2270 workmen) ; their aggregate production, chiefly from
distilleries and breweries, was valued at £394,820 in 1881. Trade
also is insignificant, although Siedlce has four railways, one of
which, from Warsaw to Brest-Litovsk, crosses it from west to cast.
There are two gymnasia for boys (at Siedlce and Biata), one gymna-
sium for girls, one seminary for teachers (at Biata\ and about 240
primary schools with 11,260 scholars. The government is divided
mto niue districts, the) chief towns of which, with their populations
inl882,are— Siedlce (see below), Biala( 19,435), ConstiUitinotf (3200),
Carvolin (14,620), tukoff (11,030), Radzyu (4440), Sokototf (6300),
Wengroff (8140), and AVtodawa (17,985). Janotf (3030), where a
statu stud is kept, has also municipal institutions.
SIEDLCE, capital of the above government, is situated
5' jijiles east-south-east of Warsaw, on the Brest-Litovsk
Railway. It received municipal institutions in 1547. The
Oginskis, to whom it belonged, have embellishied, it with
a palace and gardens ; but it is still nothing more than
a large village, where the provincial authorities have their
seat. Its population was 12,950 in 1882.
SIEGE. See Fortification.
SIEGEN, an ancient mining and manufacturing town
of Prussia, in the province of Westphalia, is situated 47
miles to the ea.st of Cologne on the Sieg, a tributary
entering the Rhine opposite Bonn. The surrounding dis-
trict, to which it gives its name, abounds in iron-mines,
so that iron founding and smelting are important branches
of industry in and near the town. Large tanneries and
leather-works, and factories for cloth paper, and machinery,
are among the other industrial establishments. The popu-
lation in 1880 was 15,024, of whom 3632 were Roman
Catholics and 111 Jews.
Siegen was the capital of an early principality belonging to the
house of Nassau ; and from 1606 onwards it gave name to the junior
branch of Nas.sau-Sicgen. Napoleon incorporated Siegen in the
grand-duchy of Berg in 1806 ; and in 1815 the congress of Vienna
assigned it to Prussi.a, under whoso rule it has nearly quintupled its
population. Rubens is said to have been born here in 1577.
SIEGFRIED. See Nibelungenlied, vol. xvii. p. 475.
SIEMENS, Sir William (1823-1883), christened Carl
Wilhelm, an eminent inventor, engineer, and natural philo-
sopher, was born at Lenthe in Hanover on 4th April 1823.
After being educated in the polytechnic school of Magde-
burg and the university of Guttingen, he visited England
at the age of nineteen, in the hojie of introducing a process
in electro-plating invented by himself and his brother
Werner. The invention was adojited by Messrs Elking-
ton, and Siemens returned to Germany to enter as a pupil
the engineering works of Count Stolberg at Magdeburg.
In 1844 he was again in England with another invention,
the " chronometric " or. differential governor for steam-
engines (see Steam-Engine). Finding that British patent
laws afforded the inventor a protection which was then
wanting in Germany, he thenceforth made England his
home; but ft was not till 1859 that he formally became a
naturalized British subject. After some years siient in
active invention and experiment at mechanical works near
Birmingham, he went into practice as an engineer in 1851.
He laboured mainly in two distinct fields, the applications
of heat and the applications of electricity, and was charac-
terized in a very rare degree by a combination of scientific
comprehension with practical instinct. In both fields he
played a part which would have been great in either alone;
and, in addition to this, he produced from time to time
miscellaneous inventions and scientific papers suflicient in
themselves to have established a reputation. His posi-
tion was recognized by his election in 1862 to the Royal
Society, and later to the presidency of the Institute of
Mechanical Engineers, the Society of Telegraph Engineers,
the Iron and Steel Institute, and the British Association ;
by honorary degrees from the universities of Oxford,
Glasgow, Dublin, and Wiirzburg ; and by knighthood.
He died in London on the 19th of November 1883.
In the application of heat Siemens's work began just after Joule's
experiments had placed the doctrine of the conservation of energy
on a sure basis. While Eankine, Clausius, and Thomson were de-
veloping the dynamical theory of heat as a matter of physical and
engineering theory, Siemens, in the light of the new ideas, made a
bold attempt to improve the efficiency of the steam-engine as a
converter of heat into mechanical work. Taking up the regenerator
— a device invwited by Stirling twenty years before, the inipoitanco
of which had meanwhile been ignored — he applied it to the steam-
engine in the form of a regenerative condenser with some success.
This was in 1847, and in 1855 engines constructed on Siemens's
plan were worked at the Paris exhibition. Later he made many
attempts to apply the regenerator to internal-combustion or gas
engines ; but neither in steam-engines nor in gas engines were Yds
inventions directly and permanently fruitful, though the direction
they followed is that in w hich improvement is still looked for. The
regenerative principle, however, as a means of economizing heat
soon received at his hands another and far wider application. In
1856 he introduced the regenerative furnace, the idea of his brother
Friedrich, with whom William associated himself in directing its
applications. In an ordinary furnace a very large part of the heat
of combustion is lost by being carried off in the hot gases which
pass up the chimney. In the regenerative furnace the hot gases
pass through a regenerator, or chamber stacked with loose bricks,
which absorb the heat. When the bricks are well heated the hot
gases are diverted so to pass throngh another similar chamber,
while the air necessary for combustion, before it enters the furnace,
is made to traverse the heated chamber, tiiking up as it goes the
heat which has been stored in the bricks. After a suitable interval
the air currents are again reversed. The process is repeated period-
ically, with the result that the products of combustion escape only
after being cooled, the heat wliich they take from the /'urnaco
being in great part carried back in the heated air. But another
invention was required before the regenerative furnace could be
thoroughly successful. This was the use of gaseous fuel, produced
by the crude distillation and incomplete combustion of coal in a
distinct furnace, now known as Siemens's gas-producer. From this
the gaseous fuel passes by a flue to the regenerative furnace, and
it, as well as the entering air, is heated by the regenerative method,
four brick-stacked chauibers being used instead of two. The com-
plete invention was applied at Chance's glass-works in Birmingh.-im
in 1861, and furnished the subject of Faraday's farewell lecture to
the Royal Institution. It was soon applied to many industrial
processes, but it found its greatest development a few years later
at the hands of Siemens himself in the nianufactme of steel. To
produce steel directly from the ore, or by melting together wrought-
iron scrap with cast-iron upon the open health, had been in his
mind from the first, but it was not till 1867, after two years of
experiment in "sample steel works" erected by himself for the
purpose, that ho acliieved success. The moilern forms of the
Siemens steel process are. described in the article InoN (vol. xiil.
p. 347 3q.). The product is a mild steel of exceptionally trnst-
worthy quality, the use of which for boiler-plates has done much
to make [lossible the high steam-jiressures that arc now common,
and has consequently contributed, indirectly, to that improvement
ill the thermodynamic efliciency of heat engines which Siemens had
so much at heart. Just before his death ho was again at work upon
the same subject, his plan being to use gaseous fuel from a Siemom
producer in place of solid fuel beneath the boiler, and to apply tlio
regenerative principle to boiler furnaces. His faith in gnscous fue'
led him to anticipate that its use would in tinio supersede that of
solid coal for domestic and industrial purposes, cheap gas beinjf
supplied cither from special works or direct Iiom the j^it ; IumJ
38
S I E — S I E
among his last inventions was -a house grate to ham gas along with
<;oke,°vhich he regarded as a possible cure for city smoke
In electricity Siemens's name is closely associated with the growth
<of land and submarine telegraphs, the invention and development
<af the dynamo, and the application of electncity to lightmg and
ito locomotion. In I860, with his brother WeVner, he invented
ihe earliest form of what is now known as the Siemens armatui-e ;
ajid in 1867 he communicated a paper to the Royal Society Un
the Conversion of Dynamical into Electrical Force without the aid
of Permanent JIagnetism," in which he announced the invention
by Werner Siemens of the dynamo-electric machine, an invention
arhich was also reached independently and almost simultaneously
by Wheatstone and by S. A. Tarley. The Siemens-Alteneck or
inultiple-con armature followed in 1873, and became the bnsis ol
the modern Siemens dynamo as developed, with great labour,
by the firm of Siemens Brothers themselves, and (with later modi-
fications) by Edison, Hopkinson, and others. While engaged in
constructing a trans- Atlantic cable for the Direct United States
Telegraph Companv, Siemens designed the very original and suc-
cessful ship "Faraday," by which that and other cables were laid.
One of the last of his works was the Portrush and Bushmills electric
tramway, in the north of Ireland, opened in 1883, where the w-ater-
power of the river Bush drives a Siemens dynamo, from which the
electric energy is conducted to another dj-namo serving as a
motor on the car. In the Siemens electnc furnace the intensely
hot atmosphere of the electric arc between carbon points is em-
■ployed to melt refractory metals. Another of the uses to which
he turned electricity was to employ light from arc lamps as a sub-
stitute for sunlight in hastening the growth and fructification of
plants. Among his miscellaneous inventions were the differential
governor already alluded to, and a highly scientific modification
of it, described to the Royal Society in 1S66 ; a water-meter
which acts on the principle of counting the number of tuins made
by a small reaction turWne through which the supply of water
flows • an electric thermometer and pyrometer, in which temper-
ature is determined by its effect on the electrical conductivity of
metals : an attraction meter for determining very slight variations
in the intensity of a gravity ; and the bathometer, by which he
applied this idea to the problem of finding the depth of the sea
^without a sounding line. In a paper read before the Royal Society
in 1882 "Ou the Conservation of Solar Energy, he suggested a
bold but unsatisfactory theory of the sun's heat, m which he sought
to trace on a cosmic scale an action similar to that ol the regenera-
tive furnace. His fame, however, does not rest on his contnbu-
Jtions to pure science, valuable as some of these were. His strength
lay in his grasp of scientific principles, in his skill to perceive
•where and how they could be applied to practical affairs, in his
zealous and instant pursuit of thought with action, and m the in-
domitable persistence with which he clung to any basis of effort
that seemed to him theoretically sound.
Siemens's writinRS consist for the most p.irt of lectures and papers scattemV
thriuXthescentrnc journals and tl.e publications of the Boyal Society the
Institution of Civi Engineers, the Institute of Mechanical Engineers, the ron
Sd S?eerinstitute, thi BnUsh Association, ic. A biography by Dr J. ,ll,am
Bole is now (18S6) in preparation. l.o. Ji. i
SIENA, a city of Italy, and one of tte most character-
-istic of Tuscany, stands (43° 19' N. lat., 11° 19'_E. Jong.)
on a hill near the mountainous region of Chianti, the
Maremma, and Val di Chiana. It is 60 miles by rail
south of Florence and 160 north-west of Keme. The area
of the city within the walls is about 2i square miles and
r:ts population in 18.81 was 25,20i. The province of
«iena, comprising about 1407 square miles, with 37 com-
anunes, and a total population of 207,000, by the pohtica
a-edistribution of 1882 forms a single electoral college and
3-eturns four members to parliament. The diocese of feiena,
an archbishopric dating from 1459, includes 18 city and
.95 rural parishes divided into 12 vicariates.
The city possesses a university, founded in 1-03 and
limited to the faculties of law and medicine. Among the
other public institutions the following are the more im-
portant —the town Ubrary, first opened to students m the
17th century ; the Archivio, a record office, instituted in
1858 containing a valuable and splendidly arranged col-
lection of documents ; the Fine Arts Institution, founded
in 1816 ; and the natural history museum of the Royal
Academy of the Phvsiocritics, inaugurated in the same
year There are also many flourishing chanties, including
an excellent hospital and a school for the deaf and dumb
The public festivals of Siena known as the " Palio delle
Contrade " have a European celebrity. They are held in
the public square, the curious and historic Piazza del
Campo (now Piazza di Vittorio Emanuele), on 2d July and
16th August of each year; they date from the Middle
Ages and were instituted in commemoration of victories
and in honour of the Virgin Mary (the old title of Siena,
as shown' by seals and medals, having been " Sena vetus
civitas Virginis "). In the 15th and 16th centuries the
celebrations consisted of bull-fights. At the close of the
IGth century these were replaced by races with mounted
butfaloes, and since 1650 by (ridden) horses. Siena is
divided into seventeen contrade (wards), each with a dis-
tinct appellation and a chapel and flag of its own ; and
every year ten of these contrade, chosen by lot, send each
one horse to compete for the prize palio or banner. The
aspect of Siena during these meetings is very character-
istic, and the whole festivity bears a mediseval stamp in
harmony with the architecture and history of the tov\Ti.
Among the noblest fruits )f Sienese art are the public build- Catti»"
iugs adorning the city. The lathedral, one of the finest examples '^'''^-
of Italian Gothic architecture, was begun in the early years of the
13th century, and in 1317 its walls were extended to the baptistery
of San Giovanni ; a further enlargement was be"un in 1339 but
never carried out, and a few ruined walls and arches alone remain
to show the magnificence of the uncompleted design. The splendid
west front, of tricuspidal form, enriched with a multitude of
columns, statues, and inlaid marbles, was finished iu 1380. Space
Plan of Siena.
fails for the enumeration of the art treasures of the interior, but
conspicuous among them is the. well-known octagonal pulpit by
Niccolb Pisano, dating from about 1274. The cathedral pavement
is almost unique. It is ihlaid with designs in colour and black ami
white representing Biblical and l<«gendary subjects, and is supposed
to have been begun by Duccio delk Buoninsegna. But the finest
portions beneath the domes, with scenes from the history of Abra-
ham, Moses, and Elijah, are by Domenico Beccafumi and are exe-
cuted with marvellous boldness and effect. The choir stalls also
deserve mention : the older ones (remains of the original choir) are
in tarsia work ; the others, dating from the 16th century, are carved
from Riccio's designs. The Piccolomini Library, adjoining the
duomo was founded by Cardinal Francesco Piccolommi-Todeschini
SIENA
39
(afterwards Pius III.) in honour of liis uncle, Pius 11. Here are
Piuturicchio's famous frescos of scenes from the life of the latter
poutitf and the collection of choir boolis (supported on sculptured
desks) with splendid illumiuations by Sienese and other artists.
The church of San Giovanni, the ancient baptistery, beneath the
cathedral is approached by an outer flight of marble steps built in
1451. It-ias a beautiful "facade designed by Giovanni di Miiio del
Pelli'cciaio in 1382, and a marvellous font with bas-reliefs by Dona-
tello, Ghiberti, Giacomo della Querela, and other 15th-century sculp-
tors. The other churches are— the Collepiata di Provenzano, a
va.st building of some elegance, designed by Schifardini (1594) ;
Sanf A^ostino, rebuilt by Vanvitelli in 1755, containing a Cruci-
fijtion and Saints by Peiugino, a Massacre of the Innocents by
JIatteo di Giovanni, the Coming of the Magi by Sodoma, and a St
Antony by Spagnoletto or his scliool ; the beautiful church of the
Scrvites (15th centUT)-), which contains another Massacre of the
Innocents by Matteo di Giovanni and other good examples of the
Sienese school ; San Francesco, designed by Agostino and Agnolo
about 1326, and now (1387) being restored, which once possessed
many fine paintings by Duccio Buoninsegna, Lorenzetti, Sodoma,
and Beccafumi, but some of these perished in the prent fire of 1655,
and the rest were retnoved to the Institute of Fine Arts after 1862
during the temporary desecration of the -hurch ; San Domenico, a
fine 13th-century building with a single nave and transept, con-
taining Sodoraa's splendid fresco the Swoon of St Catherine, the
Madonna of Guido da Siena, and a crucifix by Sano di Pietro. This
church crowns the Fontebranda hill above the famous fountain pf
that name immortalized by Dante, and in a steep lane below stands
the house of St Catherine, now converted into a church and oratorv,
and maintained at the expense of the inhabitants of the Contrada
deir Oca. It contains some good pictures by Pacchia and other
works of art, but is chiefly visited for its historic interest and as
a striking memorial of the characteristic piety of the Sienese.
.The communal palace in the Piazza del Campo was begun in
4- 1288 and finished in 1309. It is built of brick, is a fine specimen
of Pointed Gothic, and ^va3 designed by Agostino and Agnolo.
The light and elegant tower (Torre del Mangia) soaring from one
side of the palace was begun in 1325, and the chapel standing at
its foot, raised at the expense of the Opera del Duomo as a public
thank-offering after .the plague of 1348, dates from 1352. This
grand old palace has other attractions besides the beauty of its
architecture, for its interior is lined with works of art. The atrium
has a fresco by Bartolo di Fredi and the two ground-floor halls
contain a Coronation of the Virgin by Sano di Pietro and a splendid
Resurrection by Sodoma. In the Sala dei Nove or della Pace
above are the nohle allegorical frescos of Ambrogio Lorenzetti re-
S resenting the effects of just and unjust government; the Sala
elle Balestre or del Mappamondo is painted bySimone di Martino
(llemmi) and others, the Cappella 'della Siguoria by Taddeo di
Bartolo, and the Sala del Concistorio by Beccafumi. Another hall
is now being prepared in memory of Victor Emmanuel II., and its
frescos and decorations are to be entrusted exclusively to Sienese
artists. The former hall of the grand council, built in 1327, was
converted into the chief theatre of Siena by Riccio in 1560, and,
after tjcing twice burnt, was rebuilt in 1753 from Bibbiena's designs.
Another Sienese theatre, the Rozzi, in Piazza San Pellegrino, de-
signed by A. Doveri and erected in 1816, although modern, has
an historic interest as the work of an academy dating from the
16th century, called the Congrcga de' Rozzi, that jilayed an import-
ant part in the history of the Italian comic stage.
The city is adorned by many other noble edifices both public
and private, of which we will mention the following palaces — the
Tolomei (1205); Buonsignori, formerly Tcgliacci, an elegant 14th-
century construction, restored in 1848 ; Grottanelli, formerly Pecci
and anciently the residence of the captain of war, recently restored
in its original style ; Sansedoiii ; Jlarsilii ; Piccolomini, now be-
longing to the Government and containing the state archives ;
Piccolomini delle Papesse, like the other Piccolomini mansion, de-
siigned by Bernardo Kossellino, and now the national bank ; the
enormous block of the Monte do' Paschi, enlarged anil partly re-
built in the original style between 1877 and 1881, and including the
old Dogana and Spannocchi palaces ; the Loggia di Mircanzia (15th
century), now a club ; the Loggia del Papa, erected by Pius II. ; and
other fine buildings. We must also mention the two celebrated
fountains, Fonte Gaia and Fontebranda ; the p'onte Nuova, near
Porta Ovile, by Camaino di Crescentino also deserves notice.
Thanks- to all these arcljitcrtural treasures, the narrow Sienese
streets with their many windings and steep ascents arc full of pic-
turesque charm, and, together with the collections of excellent
paintings, foster the local pride of the inhabitants and prcser%'e
their taste and feeling for art.
History. — The origin of Siena, like thaj^ of other Italian
cities, is lost in a mist of legendary tradition. It Was prob-
ably founded by the Etruscans, and then faUing under the
Roman rule became a colony in the reign of Augustus, or
a httle earlier, and was distinguished by the name of
ticcna Julia. Few memorials of the Roman era or of the
first centuries of Christianity have been preserved, and
none at all of the interval preceding the Lombard period.
We have documentary evidence that during this epoch, in
the reign of Rotaris (or Rotari), there was a bishop of
Siena named Jlouro. Attempts to trace earlier bishops as
far back as the 5th century have yielded only vague and
contradictory results. Under the Lombards the civil
government was in the hands of a gastaldo, under the
Caroiingians of a count, whose authority, by slow degrees
and a course of events similar to what took place in other
Italian communes, gave way to that of -the bishop, whose
power in turn gradually diminished and was superseded
by that of the consuls and the commonwealth.
We have written evidence of the consular government
of Siena from 1125 to 1212 ; the number of consuls varied
from three to twelve. This government, formed of gentil-
uomini or nobles, did not remain unchanged throughout
the whole period, but was gradually forced to accept the
participation of the popolani or lower classes, whose
efforts to rise to power were continuous and determined.
Thus in 1137 they obtained a third part of the govern-
ment by the reconstitution of the general council with
100 nobles and 50 popolani. In 1199 the institution of
a foreign podestd, gave a severe blow to the consular
magistracy, which was soon extinguished; and in 1233
the people again rose against the nobles in the hope of
ousting them entirely from office. The attempt was not
completely successful ; but the Government was now equally
divided between the two estates by the creation of a
supreme magistracy of twenty-four citizens, — t wive nobles
and twelve popolani. During the rule of the nobles and
the. mixed rule of nobles and popolani the commune of
Siena was enlarged by fortunate acquisitions of neighbour-
ing lands ajid by the submission of feudal lords, such as
the Soialenghi, Aldobrandeschi, Pannocchieschi Visconti
di Campiglia, <tc. Before long the reciprocal need of fresh
territory and frontier disputes, especially concerning Poggi-
bonsi and Montepulciano, led to an outbreak of hostilities
between Florence and Siena. Thereupon, to spite the
rival republic, the Sienese took the C4hibelline side, and the
German emperors, beginning with Frederick Barbarossa,
rewarded their fidelity by the grant of various privileges.
During the 12th and 13th centuries there were con- War with
tinned disturbances, petty wars, and hasty reconciliations Florence
between Florence and Siena, until in 1254-55 a more
binding peace and alliance was concluded. But this treaty,
in spite of its apparent stability, led in a few years to a
fiercer struggle ; for in 1258 the Florentines complained
that Siena had infringed its terms by giving refuge to the
Ghibellines they had expelled, and on the refusal of the
Sienese to yield to these just remonstrances both states
made extensive preparations for war. Siena applied to
Manfred, obtained from him a strong body of German
horse, under the command of Count Giordano, and likewise
sought the aid of its Ghibelline allies. Florence equipped
a powerful citizen army, of which, the original registers
are still preserved in the volume entitled II Libra di Mont-
aperti in the Florence archives. This army, led by the
podcsth, of Florence and twelve burgher captains, set forth
gaily on its march towards the enemy's territories in fho
middle of April 1260, and during its first campaign, ending
18th May, won an insignificant victory at Santa Pctronilln,
outside the walls of Siena. But in a second and more
important campaign, in which the militia of the other
Guelf towns of -Tuscany took part, the Florentines were
signally defeated at Montaperti on 4th September 12G0.
This defeat crushed the power of Florence for many years,
reduced the city to desolation, and apparently annihilated
40
SIENA
the Florentine Guelfs. But the battle of Benevento (126G)
and the establishment of the dynasty of Charles of Anjou
on the Neapolitan throne put an end to the Ghibelline
predominance in Tuscany. Ghibelline Siena soon felt the
effects of the change in the defeat of its army at Colle di
Valdelsa (1269) by the united forces of the Guelf exiles,
Florentines, and French, and the death in that battle of
her powerful citizen Provenzano Salvani (mentioned by
Dante), who had been the leading spirit of the Govern-
ment at the time of the victory of Montaperti. For some
time Siena remained faithful to the Ghibelline cause ;
nevertheless Guelf and democratic sentiments began to
make head. The Ghibellines were on several occasions
expelled from the city, and, even when a temporary recon-
ciliation of the two parties allowed them to return, they
failed to regain their former influence.
Meanwhile tne popular party acquired increasing power
'in the state. Exasperated by the tyranny of the Salimbeni
and other patrician families allied to the Ghibellines, it
'decreed in 1277 the exclusion of aU nobles from the
■supreme laagistracy (consisting since 1270 of thirty -sis
instead of twenty -four members), and insisted that this
council should be formed solely of Guelf traders and men
of the middle class. This constitution was confirmed in
1280 by the reduction of the supreme magistracy to fifteen
members, all of the humbler classes, and was definitively
sanctioned in 1285 (and 1287) by the institution of the
.OoQucil magistracy of nine. , This council of nine, composed only
of nine, of burghers, carried on the government for about seventy
years, and its rule was sagacious and peaceful. The terri-
tories of the state were enlarged ; a friendly alliance was
maintained with Florence; trade flourished; in 1321 the
university was founded, oi rather revived, by the introduc-
tion of Bolognese scholars ; the principal buildings now
adorning the town were begun ; and the charitable institu-
tions, which are the pride of modern Siena, increased and
prospered. But meanwhile the exclusiven> ss of the single
elass of citizens from whose ranks the chief magistrates
were drawn had converted the government into a close
oligarchy and excited the hatred of every other cluss.
Nobles, judges, notaries, and populace rose in frequent
revolt, while the nine defended their state (1295-1309) by
a strong body of citizen militia divided into terzieri (sec-
tions) and contrade (wards), and violently repressed these
attempts. But in 1355 the arrival of Charles IN. in
Siena gave fresh courage to the malcontents, who, backed
by the imperial authority, overthrew the government of
the nine and substituted a magistracy of twelve drawn
from the lowest class. These new rulers were to some
extent under the influence of the nobles who had fomented
the'irebellion, but the latter were again soon excluded from
all share in the government. This was the beginning of a
determined struggle for supremacy, carried on for many
years, between the diflferent classes of citizens, locally
termed drdini or monti, — the lower classes striving to
grasp the reins of government, the higher classes already
in oSice striving to keep all power in their own hands, or
to divide it in proportion to the relative strength of each
monte. As this struggle is of too complex a nature to be
described in detail, we must limit ourselvesto a summary
of its leading episodes.
The twelve who replaced the council of nine (as these
had previously replaced the council of the nobles) consisted
— both as individuals and as a party — of ignorant, incap-
able, turbulent men, who could neither rule the state with
firmness nor confer prosperity on the republic. They
speedily broke with the nobles, for whose manceuvres they
had at first been useful tools, and then split into two fac-
tions, one siding with the Tolomei, the other, the more
restless and violent, with the Salimbeni and the noveschi
(partisans of the nine), who, having still some influence in
the city, probably fomented these dissensions, and, as we
shall see later on, skilfully availed themselves of every
chance likely to restore them to. power. In 1368 the
adversaries of the twelve succeeded in driving them by
force from the public palace, and substituting a govern-
ment of thirteen, — ten nobles and three noveschi. This
government lasted only twenty-two days, from 2d to 24th
September, and was easily overturned by the dominant
faction of the dodicini (partisans of the twelve), aided by
the Salimbeni and the populace, and favoured by the
emperor Charles IV. The nobles were worsted, being
driven 'from the city as well as from power ; but the abso-
lute rule of the twelve was brought to an end, and right
of participation in the government was extended to an-
other class of citizens. For, on the expulsion of the
thirteen from the palace, a council of 124 plebeians created
a new magistracy of twelve difensori (defenders), no longer
drawn exclusively from the order of the twelve, but com-
posed of five of the ]wpolo minuto, or lowest populace (now-
first admitted to the government), four of the twelve, and
three of the nine. But it was of short duration, for the
dodicini were ill satisfied with their share, and in Decem-
ber of the same year (1368) joined with the popolo mimtto
in an attempt to expel the three noveschi from the palace.
But the new popular order, which had already asserted its
predominance in the council of the riformatori, now drove
out the dodicini, and for five days (11th to 16th December)
kept the government in its own hands. Then, however,
moved by fear of the emperor, who had passed through
Siena *"vo months before on his way to Rome, and who
was about io halt there on his return, it tried to conciliate
its foes by creating a fresh council of 1 50 riformatori, who g.f
replaced the twelve defenders by a new supreme magistracy uri
of fifteen, consisting of eight popolanhj^ioui dodicini, and ""fl"
three noveschi, entitled respectively "people of the greater
number," " people of the middle number," and " people
of the less number." From this renewal dates the forma-
tion of the new order or monie dei riformatori, the title
henceforth bestowed on all citizens, of both the less and
tLe greater people, who had reformed the government
and begun to participate in it in 1368. The turbulenjt
faction of the twelve and the Salimbeni, being dissatisfied
with these changes, speedily rose against the new Govern-
ment. This time they were actively aided by Charles
IV., who, having returned from Rome, sent his militia,
commanded by the imperial vicar Malatesta da Rimini,
to attack the public palace. But the Sienese people,
being called to arms by the council of fifteen, made a
most determined resistance, routed the imperial troops,
captured the standard, and confined the emperor in the
Salimbeni palace. Thereupon Charles came to terms with
the Government, granted it an imperial patent, and left
the city, consoled for his humiliation by the gift of a large
sum of money.
In spite of its wide basis and great energy, the monte
dei rifoi-matoi-i, the heart of the new Government, could
not satisfactorily cope with the attacks of adverse factions
and treacherous allies. So, the better to repress them, it
created in 1369 a chief of the police, with the title of
esecutore, and a numeroiis association of popolani — the
company or casata grande of the people — as bulwarks
against the nobles, who had been recalled from banish-
ment, and who, though fettered by strict regulations, were
now eligible for oflSces of the state. But the appetite for
power of the " less people " and the dregs of the populace
was whetted rather than satisfied by the installation of the
riformatori in the principal posts of authority. Among
the wool-carders — men of the lowest class, dwelling in the
precipitous lanes about the Porta Ovile — there was an
SIENA
41
association styling itself the "company of the ■«onn."
During the famine of 1371 this company rose in revolt,
sacked the houses of the rich, invaded the public palace,
drove from the council of fifteen the four members of the
twelve and the throe of the nine, and replaced them by
seven tatterdemalions. Then, having withd^a^vn to its
own quarter, it was suddenly attacked by the infuriated
citizens [noveschi and dodicini), who broke into houses and
workshops and put numbers of the inhabitants to the sword
without regard for age or sex. Thereupon the popular
rulers avenged these misdeeds by many summary execu-
tions in the piazza. These disorders were only checked
by fresh changes in the council of fifteen. It was now
formed of twelve of the greater people and three noveschi,
to the total exclusion of the dodicini, who, on account of
their growing turbulence, were likewise banished from
the city.
teD- Meanwhile the Government had also to contend with
' fo"" difficulties outside the walls. The neighbouring lords
°''' attacked and ravaged the municipal territories ; grave
injuries were inflicted by the mercenary bands, especially
\ by the Bretons and Gascons. The rival claims to the
Neapolitan kingdom of Carlo di Durazzo and Louis of
Anjou caused fresh disturbances in Tuscany. The
Sienese Government conceived hopes of gaining possession
of the city of Arezzo, which was first occupied by Durazzo's
men, and then by Enguerrand de Coucy for Louis of
Anjou ; but while the Sienese were nourishing dreams of
conquest the French general unexpectedly sold the city
to the Florentines, whose negotiations had been conducted
with marvellous ability and despatch (1384). The gather-
ing exasperation of the Sienese, and notably of the middle
class, against their rulers was brought to a climax by
this cruel disappointment. Their discontent had been
gradually swelled by various acts of home and foreign
policy during the sixteen years' rule of the riformatori,
nor had the concessions granted to the partisans of the
twelve and the latter's recall and renewed eligibility to
office availed to conciliate them. At last the revolt
broke out and gained the upper hand, in March 138.5. The
rtformatori were ousted from power and expelled the city,
and the trade of Siena suffered no little injury by the exile
jis- of so many artisan families. The fifteen vrere replaced by
y of a new supreme magistracy of ten priors, chosen in the
ijjj following proportions, — four of the twelve, four of the
nine, and two of the people proper, or people of the
greater number, but to the exclusion of all who had shared
in' the government or sat in council under the riformatori.
Thus began a new order or monte del popolo, composed of
families of the same class as the ri/ormntori, but having
had no part in the government during the latter's rule.
But, though now admitted to power through the burgher
reaction, as a concession tc democratic ideas, and to
cause a split among the greater people, they enjoyed very
limited privileges.'
In 1387 fresh quarrels with Florence on the subject of
Montepulciano led to an open war, that was further aggra-
vated by the interference in Tuscan aflfairs of the ambitious
duke of Milan, Gian Galeazzo Visconti. With him the
Sienese concluded an alliance in 1389 and ten years later
accepted his suzerainty and resigned the liberties of their
state. But in 1402 the death of Gian Galeazzo lightened
their yoke. In that year the first plot against the Vis-
contiam rule, hatched by the twelve and the Salimbeni and
fomented by the Florentines, was violently repressed, and
caused the twelve to be again driven from office ; but in
' The following arc the ordini or monti that held power in Siena
for any considerable time — gentiluomini, from the origin of the ro-
puWic ; now, fpom about 1286 ; dodici, from 1366 : ri/urmatori, from
1368 ; popoU), from 1386.
the following year a special balia, created in consequence
of that riot, annulled the ducal suzerainty and restored the
liberties of Siena. During the interval the supreme magis-
tracy had assumed a more popular form. By the partial
readmission of the riformatori and exclusion of the
twelve, the permanent balla was now composed of nine
priors (three of the nine, three of the people, and three of
the riformatori) and of a captain of the people to be
chosen from each of the three 7nora<i in turn. On 11th
April peace was made with the Florentines and Siena en-
joyed several years of tranquil prosperity.
But the great Western schism then agitating the Chris-
tian world again brought disturbance to Siena. In con-
sequence of the decisions of the council of Pisa, Florence
and Siena had declared against Gregory XII. (1409);
Ladislaus of Naples, therefore, as a supporter of the pope,
seized the opportunity to make incursions on Sienese terri-
tory, laying it waste and threatening the city. The Sienese
maintained a vigorous resistance till the death of this
monarch in 1414 freed them from his attacks. In 1431
a fresh war with Florence broke out, caused by the latter's
attempt upon Lucca, and continued in consequence of the
Florentines' alliance with Venice and Pope Eugenius IV.,
and that of the Sienese with the duke of Milan and Sigis-
mund, king of the Romans. This monarch halted at Siena
on his way to Rome to be crowned, and received a most
princely welcome. In 1433 the opposing leagues signed a
treaty of peace, and, although it was disadvantageous to
the Sienese and temptations to break it were frequently
urged upon them, they faithfully adhered to its terms.
During this period of comparative tranquillity Siena wa»
honoured by the visit of Pope Eugenius IV. (1443) and by
that of the emperor Frederick III., who came there to re-
ceive his bride, Eleanor of Portugal, from the hands of
Bishop ^neas Sylvius Piccolomini, his secretary and his-
torian (1452). This meeting is recorded by the memorial
column still to be seen outside the Camollia gate. In
1453 hostilities against Florence were again resumed, on
account of the invasions and ravages of Sienese territory
committed by Florentine troops in their conflicts with
Alphonso of Naples, who since 1447 had made Tuscany
his battle-ground. Peace was once more patched up with
Florence in 1454 Siena was next at war for several
years with Aldobrandino Orsini, count of Pitigiiano, and
with Jacopo Piccinini, tnd sufiered many disasters from
the treachery of its generals. About the same time the
republic was exposed to still graver danger by the con-
spiracy of some of its leading citizens to seize the reins of
power and place tne city under the suzerainty of Alphonso,
as it had once been under that of the duke of Milan.
But the plot came to light ; its chief ringleaders were
beheaded, and many others sent into e.xile (1456); and
the death of Alphonso at last ended all danger from that
source. During those critical times the government of
the stt-te was strengthened by a new executive magistracy
called the barta, which from 1455 began to act independ.
ently of the priors or consistory. Until then it had beei^
merely a provisional committee annexed to the latter. BuJ
henceforward the balla had supreme jurisdiction in all
affairs of the state, although alwa^ s, down to the fall of
the republic, nominally preserving t lo character of a magis-
tracy extraordinary. The election of .yEncas Sylvius Pic-
colomini to the papal chair in 1458 caused the utmost joy
to the Sienese ; and in compliment to their illustrious
fellow-citizen they granted the request of the nobles and
readmitted them to a share in the government But tliis
concession, grudgingly made, only remained in force for a
few years, and on the death of the pope (1464) was re-
voked altogether, save In the case of members of the
Piccolomini house, who were decreed to be popolani and
XXIL — 6
42
SIENA
■were allowed to retain all their privileges. Meanwnile
fresh discords were brewing among the plebeians at the
bead of affairs.
The conspiracy of the Pazzi in 1478 led to a war in
which Florence and Milan were opposed to the pope and
the kingof Naples, and which was put an end to by the
peace of 13th March 1480. Thereupon Alphonso, duke
of Calabria, who was fighting in Tuscany on the side of
his father Ferdinand, lame to an agreement with Siena
and, in the same way as his grandfather Alphonso, tried
to obtain the lordship of the city and the recall of the
exiled rebels of 1456. The Moi'McAi (to whose order most
of the rebels belonged) favoured his pretensions, but the
riformatori were against him. Many of the people sided
with the noveschi, rose in revolt on 22d June 1480, and,
aided by the duke's soldiery, reorganized the government
to their own advantage. Dividing the power between
their two orders of the nine and the people, they excluded
the riformatori and replaced them by a new and hetero-
geneous order styled the aggreg(tti, composed of nobles,
exiles of 1456, and citizens of other orders who had never
before been in office. But this violent and perilous upset
of the internal liberties of the repUblic did not last long.
A decree issued by the Neapolitan king (1482) depriving
the Sienese of certain territories in favour of Florence
entirely alienated their afi'ections from that monarch.
Meanwhile the monte of the nine, the chief promoters of
the revolution of 1480, were exposed to the growing hatred
and envy of their former allies, the monte dd popolo, who,
conscious of their superior strength and numbers, now
sought to crush the noveschi and rise to power in their
stead. This change of affairs was accomplished by a
series of riote between 7th June 1482 and 20th February
1483. The monte del popolo seized the lion's share of the
government ; the riformatori were recalled, the aggregati
abolished, and the noveschi condemned to perpetual banish-
ment from the government and the city. But " in per-
petuo " was an empty form of words in those turbulent
Italian republics. The noveschi, being " fat burgllers "
with powerful connexions, abilities, and traditions, gained
increased strength and infiuence in exile ; and five yeaxs
later, on 22d July 1487, they returned triumphantly to
Siena, dispersed the few adherents of the popolo who
offered resistance, murdered the captain of the people,
reorganized the state, and placed it under the protection
of the "Virgin Mary. And, their own predominance being
assured by. their numerical strength and influence, they
accorded e(iual shares of power to the other monti.
r»ndolfo Among the returned exiles was Pandolfo Petrucci, chief
Petruccl.of the noveschi and soon to be at the head of the Govern-
ment. Diiring the domination of this man (who, like Lor-
enzo de' Medici, was surnamed " the Magnificent ") Siena
enjoyed many years of splendour and prosperity. We use
the term ."domination" rather than "signory" inasmuch
as, strictly speaking, Petrucci was never lord of the state,
and left its established form of government intact ; but he
exercised despotic authority in virtue of his strength of
character and the continued increase of his personal power.
He based his foreign policy on alliance with Florence and
France, and directed the internal affairs of the state by
means of the council (cc legio) '^f the halia, which, although
occasionaDy reorganized for tne purpose of conciliating
rival factions, was always subject to his will. He like-
wise added to his power by assuming the captainship of
the city guard (1495), and later by the purchase from
the impoverished commune of several outlying castles
(1507). Nor did he shrink from deeds of bloodshed and
revenge : the assassination of his father-in-law, Niccoli
Borghesi (1500), is an indelible blot upon his name. He
successfully withstood all opposition within the state,
until he was at last worsted in his struggle with Ceaare
Borgia, who caused his expulsion from Siena in 1502. But
through the friendly mediation of the Florentines and the
French king he was recalled from banishment on 29fch
March 1503. He maintained his power until his death at
the age of sixty on 21st May 1512, and was interred with
princely ceremonials at the public expense. The predotru-
nance of his family in Siena did not last long after his
decease. Pandolfo had not the qualities required to found
a dynasty such as that of the Medici. He lacked the lofty
intellect of a Cosimo or a Lorenzo, and the atmosphere
of liberty-loving Siena with its ever-changing factions
was in no way suited to his purpose. His eldest son,
Borghese Petrucci, was incapable, haughty, and exceed
ingly corrupt ; he only remained three years at the head
of affairs and fled ignominiously in 1515. Thiough the
favour of Leo X. he was succeeded by his cousin Kaffaello
Petrucci, previously governor of St Angelo and afterwards
a cardinal.
This Petrucci was a bitter enemy to Pandolfo's children.
He caused Borghese and a younger son named Fabio to be
proclaimed as rebels, while a third son, Cardinal Alphonso,
was strangled by order of Leo X. in 1518. He was a
tyrannical ruler, and died suddenlyinl522. In the following
year Clement VII. insisted on the recall of Fabio Petrucci;
but two years later a fresh popular outbreak drove him
from Siena for ever. The city then placed itself under Under
the protection of the emperor Charles V., created a magis- tlie pr
tracy of " ten conservators of the Uberties of the state " Jf'^'"*"
• til 6 611)
(December 1524), iinited the different monti in one named pp^or.
the "monte of the reigning nobles," and, rejoicing to be
rid of the last of the Petrucci, dated their public books,
ah instaurata libertate year I., II., and so on.
The so-called free government subject to the empire
lasted for twenty-seven years ; and the desired protection
of Spain weighed more and more heavily until it became
a tyranny. The imperial legates and the captains of the
Spanish guard in Siena crushed both Government and
people by continual extortions and by undue interference
with the functions of the balia. Charles V. passed through
Siena in 1535, and, as in all the other cities of enslaved
Italy, was received with the greatest pomp ; but he left
neither peace nor liberty behind him. From 1527 to 1545
the city was torn by faction fights and violent revolts against
the noveschi, and was the scene of frequent bloodshed.
The halia was reconstituted several times by the imperial
agents, — in 1530 by Don Lopez di Soria and Alphonso
Piccolomini, duke of Amalfi, in 1540 by Granvella (or
Granvelle), and in 1548 by Don Diego di Mendoza; but
government was carried on as badly as before, and there
was increased hatred of the Spanish rule. When in 1549
Don Diego announced the emperor's purpose of erecting a
fortress in Siena to keep the citizens in order, the general,
hatred found vent in indignant remonstrance. The his-
torian Orlando jSIalavolti and other special envoys were
sent to the emperor in 1550 with a petition signed by
more than a thousand citizens praying him to spare them
so terrible a danger ; but their mission failed : they re-
turned unheard. Meanwhile Don Diego had laid the
foundation of the citadel and was carrying on the work
with activ ity. Thereupon certain Sienese citizens in Rome,
headed by iEneas Piccolomini (a kinsman of Pius 11.),
entered into negotiations with the agents of the French
king and, having with their help collected men and money,
marched on Siena and fprced their way in by the new
gate (now Porta Romana) on 26th July 1552. The towns-
people, encouraged and reinforced by this aid from without,
at once rose in revolt, and, -attacking the Spanish troops,
disarmed them and drove them to take refuge in the
citadel (28th July). And finally by an agreement wit)-
SIENA
43
Cosimo de' Medici, duke of Florence, the Spaniards were
sent away on the 5th August 1552 and the Sienese took
possession of their fortress.
The Governineut was now reconstituted under the pro-
tection of the French agents ; the baDa was abolished, its
very name having been rendered odious by the tj-ranny
of Spain, and was replaced by a similar magistracy styled
capitani del popolo e reggimento. Siena exulted in her
recovered freedom; but her sunshine" was soon clouded.
Firet, the emperor's wrath was stirred by the influence of
France in the counsels of the republic ; then Cosimo, who
•was no less jealous of the French, conceived the design of
annexing Siena to his own dominions. The first hostilities
of the imperial forces in Yal di Chiana (1552-53) did
little damage ; but when Cosimo took the field with an
arnjy commanded by the marquis of Marignano the ruin
of Siena was at hand. On 2Gth January Marignano cap-
tured the forts of Porta Camollia (which the whole popu-
lation of Siena, including the women, had helped to con-
struct) and invested the city. On 2d August of the same
year, at Marciano in Val di Chiana, he won a complete
victory over the Sienese and French troops under Piero
Strozzi, the Florentine exile and marshal of France.
Meanwhile Siena was vigorously besieged, and its inhabit-
ants, sacrificing everything for their beloved city, main-
tained a most heroic defence. A glorious record of their
suflferings is to be found in the Diary of Sozzini, the
Sienese historian, and in the Commentaries of Blaise de
Monluc, the French representative in Siena. But in April
1555 the town was reduced to extremity and was forced
to capitulate to the emperor and the duke. On 21st
April the Spanish troops entered the gates ; thereupon
many patriots abandoned the city and, taking refuge at
Montalcino, maintained there a shadowy form of republic
until 1559.
Cosimo I. de' Medici being granted the investiture of
" the Sienese state by the patent of Philip II. of Spain,
' dated 3d July 1557, took formal possession of the city
^ on the 19tli of the same month. A lieutenant-general
was appointed as representative of his authority ; the
council of the halla was reconstituted with twenty members
chosen by the duke ; thfe consistory and the general council
were left in existence but deprived of their political
grutonomy. Thus Siena was annexed to the Florentine
state under the same ruler and became an integral part
of the grand-duchy of Tuscany. Nevertheless it retained
a separate administration for more than two centuries,
until the general reforms of the grand-duke Pietro Leo-
poldo, the French domination, and finally the restoration
swept away all differences between the Sienese and Floren-
tine systems of government. In 1859 Siena was the first
Tuscan city that voted for annexation to Piedmont and the
monarchy of Victor Emmanuel II., this decision (voted 26th
June) being the initial step towards the unity of Italy.
Lileranj Jlistory. — The literary history of Siena, while recordinf;
no gifts to the world efiu.il to tliose bequeathed by Florence, and
without tlie power and originality by wliicli the latter became the
centre of Italian culture, can nevertheless boast of some illustrious
names. Of these a brief summarj', beginning with the department
of general literature and passing on to history and science, is sub-
joined. Many of them are also dealt with in separate articles, to
which the reader is referred.
As early as the 13th century the vulgar tongue was already well
.atablishcd at Siena, being used in public documents, commercial
records, and private correspondence. The poets nourishing at that
period wore Folcacchiero, Cccco Angiolieri — a humorist of a very
high order — and Bindo Bonichi, who belonged also to the fol-
lowing century. The chief glory of the 14th century was St
Catherine Bcnincasa. The year of her death (138ii) was that of
the birth of St Bernardino Albiizcschi, a jiopular iireaclicr whoic
sermons iti- the vulgar tongue are moilcls of style and diction.
To the 15th century belongs .^Eneas Sylvius Piccoiomini 'Pius II.),
Lumauiit, hiitori'in, and j^ioUti'-al wriin, In the loth etulury wt
find another Piccoiomini (Alexander), bishop of Patns, author of
a curious dialogue, Delia bclla Creanza delle Vmine ; another bishoji,
Claudio Toloniei, diplomatist, poet, and philologist, who revived
the use of ancient Latin metres ; and Luca Contile, a writer of nar-
ratives, plays, and poems. Prose fiction had two representativee
iu this century, — Scipioue Bargagli, a writer of some nieiit, and
Pietro Fortini, whose prodnctions were trivial and indecent. Iu
the 17th century we tiud Ludovico Sergardi (Quinto Stttano), a
Latinist and satirical writer of much talent and culture ; but the
most original and brilliant figure in Sienese literature is that of
Girolamo Gigli (1660-1722), author of the Gazicttino, La Sorclliiux
di Don Pilonc, II VcxalOlario Cateriniano, and the Diario Ei-dcsi-
cistico. As humorist, scholar, and philologist Gigli would take a high
place in the literature of any land. His resolute opposition to all
hypocrisy — whether religious or literary— exposed him to merciless
persecution from the Jesuits and the Delia Cruscan AcadiMy. '
In the domain of history we have first the old Sienese chronicles,
whicli down to the 14th centuiy are so coufuscd that it is almost
impossible to disentangle truth from fiction at even to decide the
personality of the various authors. Three i4th-century chronicles,
attributed to Andrea Dei, Agnolo di Tura, called II Grasso, and
Neri di Donati, are published in ilur.itori, vol. xv. To the 15th
century belongs the chronicle of Allegretto Allegretti, also in
Muratori (vol. xxiii.) ; aiid during the same period flourished Sigis-
mondo Tizio (a priest of Siena, though born at Castiglione Aretino),
whose voluminous history written in Latin and never printed
(uoir among the JISS. of the Chigi Library in Eome), though de-
void of literary merit, contains much valuable material. The best
Sienese historians belong to the IGth century. They are Orlando
llalavolti (1515-1596), a man of noble birth, the most trustworthy
of all; Antonio Bellarmati ; Alessandro Sozzini di Girolamo, the
sympathetic author of the Diario ddl' ultima Giierra Scnese ; and
Giugurta Tommasi, of whose tedious history ten books, down to
1354, have been published, the rest being still in manuscript.
Together with these historians wo must mention, the learned
scholars Celso CittaiUui (d. 1627), Ulberto Benvoglienti (d. 1733),
one of Ihiratori's correspondents, and Gio. Antonio Picci (d. 1768),
author of histories of Pandolfo Petrucci and the bishomic of Siena.
In the same category may be classed tlie libr.iriau C. F. Carpellini
(d. 1872), author of several nionograjihs on the origin of Siena an(^
the constitution of the republic, and Scipioue Borghesi (d. 1877),
who has left a precious store of histoiical, biographical, and hiblio
graphical studies and documents.
In theology and philosophy the most distinguished names arc — Scientifl*
Bernardino Ochino and Lelio and Fausto Soccini (16th century); writers,
in jurisprudence, three Soccini — Jlariauo senior, Bartolqmiiito-i
and Mariano junior (15th and 16th centuries); and in politica*
economy, Sallustio Bandini (1077-1760), author of the yji'st-ursosiiWn
Marcmma. In physical science the names most worthy of mention
are those of the botanist Pier Antonio Jlattioli (1501-1572), of
Pirro Maria Gabrielli (1643-1705), founder of the .-icademy of tlie
Physiocritics, and of the anatomist Paolo Mascagni (d. 1825).
^rl. — The history of Sienese art is a fair and luminous record.
Lanzi hap[iily designates Sienese painting as "I.ieta scaola fra lieto
popolo" ("the blithe school of a blithe pcojile"). The special
characteristics of its masters are freshness of colour, vivacity of ex-
pression, and distinct originality. The Sienese school of paiutiii"
owes its origin to the influence of Byzantine art ; but it ini]iroved
that art, impressed it with a special stamp, and was for long inde-
pendent of all other influences. Consequently Sienese art seemed
almosv stationary amid the general progress and development of
the other Italian schools, and ineserved its niedireval character
down to the end of the 15th century. 'When the Florentine Giot-
tesques and their few followers were on the wane, this mystic
Sienese school still showed continued fertility and improvement.
At the close of the 15th century the influence of the Umbriau
and — to a slighter degree — of the Florentine schools began to pene-
trate into Siena, followed a little later by that of the Lombard, and
these grafts gave fresh vigour to the ohl stock without destroying
its special characteristics. Of this new phase of Sienese art it has
been well said that Sodonia was its Leonardo, Goldassare Peruzzi
its Raphael, and Beccafuini its Michelangelo. In every ago
Siena has produced many painters of dilVercnt degices of merit'
It is impossible to mention all, so wo will only cite the names of
the more celebrated. In the 13th century we find Guido (da Siena),
painter of the well-known Madonna in the church of S. Domenico
in Siena. . The 14th century gives us Ugolino, who painted the
I\Iadonna del Tabernacolo iu Or San tlichclc, Florence ; Dutcio di
Buoninsc"nn, whoso chief work is the great panel of the high altar
of the cathedral at Siena; Pietro and Ambrogio Lorenzetti, Simono
di Martino (or Jlemmi), Lippo Memiiii, Andrea di Vanni (painter
and statesman), and Taddco di Bartolo. In the 15th centuiy we
have Sano di I'ietro, Giovanui di Paolo, Stefano di Giovaiiiii (II
Sasscttii), and Miitteo di Giovanni P.urloli, whoso several p:iinting»
of the Jl.assacrc of the Innocents show a fine sentiiuent ami much
observation of reality. The 16th centuiy boasts the names of
Guiducciu CuasorcUi, Uiatomo Pacuhiaruttu, Ciruhimo del Pacchis^
44
S I E — S I E
' BalJassare Peruzzi (14S1-1537), wlio was excellent in nany branches
of art and especially celebrated for his frescos and studies in per-
epective and chiaroscuro ; Giovanni Antonio Bazzi, otherwise known
as II Sodoma (1477-I549), who, born at Vercelli in Piedmont and
trained at Milan in the school of Leonardo da Vinci, came to Siena
in 1504 and there produced his finest works; Donieuico Beccafumi,
otherwise known as Micharino (14S6-1550\ noted for the Michel-
angelesque daring of his designs ; and Francesco Vanni.
Side by side with these painters marches a notablo band of
sculptors and architects, such as Lorenzo Maitani, architect of the
I Orvieto cathedral (end of ISth century) ; Cainaino di Crescentino ;
Tino di Camaiuo, sculptor of the monument to Henry VII in the
Campo Santo of Pisa ; Agostino and Agnolo, who in 1330 carved
the fine tomb of Bishop Guido Tarlati in the cathedral of Arezzo ;
Lando di Pietro (14th century), architect, entrusted by the Sienese
romniune with the proposed enlai'gement of the cathedral (1339) ;
Giacorao della Querela, whose lovely fountain, the Fonte Gala, in
the Piazza del Campo has befn recently restored by the sculptor
Sarrocchi ; Lorenzo di Pietro (II Vecchietta), a pupil of Delia
Querela and an excellent artist in marble and bronze ; Francesco
di Giorgio Martino (1439-1502), painter, sculptor, military engineer,
and writer on art; Giacomo Cozzarelli (15th century); and Lorenzo
JIariano, surnamed II Marrina (16th century). (C. PA.)
SIERADZ, a town of Russian Poland, in the govern-
ment of Kalisz (Kalish), situated on the Warta, 127 miles
south-west of Warsaw. It is one of the oldest towns of
Poland, founded prior to the introduction of Christianity,
and was formerly known as Syra or Syraz. The annals
mention it in 1139. Several seims were held there during
the 13th to 15th centuries, and it was a wealthy town
until nearly destroyed by a fire in 1447. It is full of
historical interest for the Poles. The old castle, which
suffered much in the Swedish war, was destroyed by the
Germans in 1800. There are two churches dating from
the 12th and 14th centuries. Sieradz, after having been
the chief town of a voivodzivo, has now no importance.
Its population was 15,040 in 1884.
SIERRA LEONE, a British colony on the West Coast
of Africa, the capital of which, Freetown, lies in 8° 39' N.
lat. and 13° 14' W. long. It consists of Sierra Leone
proper, part of the Quiah country to the east, Tasso Island,
(fee, in the Sierra Leone estuary, part of the Bullom
country to the north, the Los Islands to the north of the
Mellicoury (Mellacoree) river, the Banana Islands to the
south of the main settlement, Sherbro (Sherboro) Island
and part of the Sherbro country, the 'Turner peninsula,
AV. E. Tucker's territory, and generally all the seaboard
south to the mouth of the Manoh (Manna) river, which
|is now recognized as the northern boundary of Liberia.
The British territory and protectorate are estimated to
have an area of about 3000 square miles ; and, though it
has not all been formally annexed, the whole coast region
from the mouth of the Scarcies in 8° 55' N. lat. to that
of the Manoh in 6° 55' may be considered as British, at
least to the exclusion of any other European sovereignty.
Sierra Leone proper is a peninsula about 18 miles long
from north-west to south-east by about 1 2 broad. It lies
between the Sierra Leone estuary on the north and Yawry
Bay on the south. Lengthwise it is traversed by a range of
high hills attaining a height of 3000 feet in the Sugar
Loaf and nearly as much in Jlount Horton farther south.
'From the mainland the peninsula is physically separated
by the Bance or Bunce river (properly estuary), which
receives the Waterloo Creek and other small streams.
Towards the east and south-east the peninsula sinks to
the level of the great alluvial zone which extends along
the larger portion of this district of the African coast.
The hills seem to consist of some kind of igneous rock
(popularly misnamed granite) and of beds of red sandstone,
th6 disintegration of which has given a dark-coloured
ferruginous soil of moderate fertility. The " lofty green
trees " which clothed the " mountain " at the time of its
discovery (Cadamosto) have for the most part been de-
stroyed, though Sugar Loaf is still timbered to the top
and the peninsula is verdant with abundant vegetation.
The Negroes give so little attention to agriculture that
the local produce would not feed the population for three
Map of Sierra Leone.
months. Among the productions of the peninsula are
cola nuts, ginger (in large quantities), malagetta pepper,
castor- oil, maize, cassava, ground nuts, and (in small
quantities) cotton. Native coffee was discovered in Quiah
in 1796, and the growing of Liberian coffee and cocoa haa
since 1880 been attempted with some success.
The rainfall of Sierra Leone, according to the Colonial Hospital
observations at Freetown, is from 150 to 169 inches per annum.
The three months of January, February, and March are practically
rainless ; the rains, commencing in April or Jlay, reach their
ma.-siraum in July, August, .and Septemfter, and rapidly diminish iu
October, November, and December. It sometimes rains for thirty
hours on end, but generally twelve hours of rain are followed by
twenty-four, thiity, or more hours of clear and pleasant weather.
At the barracks (150 feet higher than the hospital) there are about
40 inches more rain, and at Kissy, 3 miles distant, some 18 or 20
inches less. The annual temperature indoors is from 73° to 86°.
The highest reading for 1880 was 95° and the lowest 69° '33. During
the dry season, when the climate is very much like that of the
West Indies, there occur teiTible tornadoes and long periods of the
harraattan, — a north-east wind, dry and desiccating, and carrying
with it those clouds of tine dust which the sailors designate
" smokes." The dangers of the climate have long been exaggerated.
The low swampy regions are like those of other tropical countries,
and Freetown, being badly placed and carelessly kept, is too often
a hotbed of malaria and fever ; but the higher districts are not
the "white man's grave."
According to the census of 1880, the population of the colony was
as follows : — peninsula of Sierra Leone with British Quiah, 63,862 ;
Isles de Los, 1371 ; occupiers of factories on the Sierra Leone river
paying rent to Government, 62 ; island of Tasso, 828 ; British
Sherbro (including Bonthe, Mocolo, Mokate, Runteh, York Island,
Yelbana, Victoria, Tasso, Bendu, and Jamaica), 4333, — total
60,446. But the census officials deem the actual population to
be much greater, that of British Sherbro, for example, being
pretty certainly 8000 or 9000. Ethnographically Sierra Leone is
almost "an epitome of Africa." The following are the more im-
portant races that can be distinctly classified : — Mandingos, 1190 ;
Timmanehs, 7443; JolofTs, 189; Baggas, 340; Wendis, 3088;
Sherbros, 2882 ; Gallinas, 697 ; Limbas, 493 ; Susus (Soosoos),
1470 ; Fulahs, 225 ; Lokkos, 1464 ; Serrakulis, 129 ; Bulloms, 129 ,
Krnmen, 610. The direct descendants of the liberated slaves now
number 35,430. The Akus^or people of Yoruba and the Eboes
from the eastern banks of the Niger are most easily distinguished.
The white residents number only 163, almost entirely a floating
population.
S 1 E — S I E
45
Most of the inliabitants depend upon trade, and are collected at
the north end of the peninsula, in Fkeetown (j.v.)and the neigh-
bouring villages. Freetown has a good supply of pure water, and
great improvements in sanitation have recently been effected.
Among the villages in the peninsula may be mentioned Kissy
(founded in 1817), the seat of two hospitals for male and female
incurables, Gloster (1816), Bathurst (1818), Leopold (1817), Charlotte
(1818), Regent (1812), Leicester (1809).
According to the census returns of 1880, there were in Sierra
Leone 18,660 Episcopalians, 17,098 Wesleyans and Methodists,
2717 of Lady Huntingdon's connexion, and 369 Roman Catholics.
Since 1861-62 there has been an independent Episcopal Native
Church ; but the Church Missionary Society, which in 1804 sent
out the first missionaries to Sierra Leone and has spent about
£500,000 on the colony, still maintains certain educative agencies.
Fcurah Bay college, built by the society on the site of General
Turner's estate (It miles east of Freetown) and opened in 1828 with
fix pupils, one of whom was Bishop Crowther, was affiliated in 1876
to Durham university, and has a high-class curriculum. Other
institutions are the grammar-school (1846), the Wesleyan high
school, and tite Annie Walsh Memorial Female Institution.
The following figures show the average value of the principal
«xports in recent years : —
Bernii Cola
Seed. ' Nuts.
1
Gin-
ger,
Ground
Kuts.
Hides.
Palm
Kernels.
Palm
Oil.
Rub-
ber.
Gum
Copal.
i8S2
1883
1884
£ 1 £
ke.84- 23,731
10,001 ' 25,S47
9,721 81, Wl
3,776 40,002
£
11,089
7:916
13,409
16,304
£
30,808
15,217
11,282
4,846
£
12,607
13,545
12,320
17,674
£
116,822
101,164
81,578
68,377
£
35,869
47,217
21,954
17,774
£
41,941
96,674
89,782
50,894
£
12,671
11,202
14,780
12,539
With the exception of the ginger, most of these products are brought
down the rivers from the interior, and the development of trade
has been grievously hampered by inter-tribal wars in non-British
territory. A considerable falling off is observable in those articles
which require cultivation or labour, or are bulky in transit. Cola
nuts have steadily increased in quantity, — that part of the Limba
country where they are principally grown being in comparative
peace. The supply of india-rubber has decreased, partly through
destruction of the trees, partly through war in the Yonnie country.
Gum copal is brought from the northern rivers. The Mendi
country sends a gooil deal of rice, which is also grown largely in
Sherbro. The total value of all the exports was on an average for
r877-81 £382,620, and for 1882-83 £413,148. The corresponding
rigures for the imports were £424,447 and £429,273.
The most northerly territory belonging to the colony is the little,
gi'oup of the Los Islands (Islas de los Idolos), about 80 miles north-
north-west of Freeton-n to the south of Sangareah Bay. Taniara or
Futabar to the west and Factory Island to the east "enclose, like an
atoll, an inner basin, in the centre of which lies the much smaller
Crawford Island." Thehighest point is a knoll some 450 feet above
sea-level in Tamara. All these islands are richly clothed with
palm trees and flowering underwood. Factory Island is occupied by
a French trading settlement. At one time the islands were a great
seat of the slave-trade and about 1812-13 were garrisoned by British
troops for the suppression of the tralTic. The climate was then
found to be exceedingly fatal
The small island of llatakong, 25 miles south-east, is also British.
On the mainland the watershed between the Great Scarcies and the
iVIellicoury (Mellacorcc) has been adopted as the boundary between
the French and English protectorates or annexation -areas. The
Great Scarcies river (Rio dos Carceres) appears to take its rise
in the highlands of the Futa-Jallon not far from the sources of
the Senegal, but its upper course has not been completely explored.
It is navigable for boats a long )\'ay inland, though the ascent from
the sea is interrupted by rapids a short distance above Kambia,
an important Monammedan town. The Little Scarcies has its
headwaters to the north-cast of Falaba, a town of the Sulima
country, built in 1768 and visited by Laing (1822), Winwood Reade
(1869), and Zweifel and Mousticr (1879). The Rokelle or Mabile
river, which falls into the Sierra Leono estuary, is formed by the
drainage of the Koranko country. On a creeK which reaches the
estuary near the Rokcllo mouth stands (at the head of navigation)
the important township of Port Lokko, a mission station of the
Church Missionary Society. Tlie maritime country between the
Scarcies and Sierra Leone is called North Bullom (i.e., low land) ;
the tribe of the same name has been expelled from much of its
territory by the Susus (whose country is the unexplored tract to
the south of 11" N. lat.) and the Timmanehs (Tininis). At the
angle of Yawiy Bay lies the mouth of the Ribbi or Kates river,
and about 10 miles farther south is the common outflow of the
Kamarauka and the Bompe. At the south side of the bay the
«mall cluster of Plantain Islands corresponds to the Banana Islands
on the north off Cape Shilling, which were ceded to the British in
1819 and are noted for their healthiness. Southward opens the
broad estuary of the Sherbro 'popularly river), which lies between
the island of Sherbro, annexed in 1862, and the territory of the
same name. The estuary receives the Bagru from the Manoh-Bagrn
country and the Jong river, whose head-stream, the Bamp^inna,
rises far inland in the same country as the Rokelle and has a
breadth of 200 feet at Mayosso. From the sea the Jong is navigabl»
for steamers to Matonghbah (or Matubah). It is connected by the
Little Bum Creek with the Great Biiin river, which passes through
the Mendi country and descends into the alluvial seaboard by
rapids at Motappan. The Bum loses itself in a curious network
of lagoons and creeks separated from the ocean by the long low
tract of Turner's peninsula. The upper Kittam joins it from the
east, and by another creek communicates with the Palma or Cassi
Lake (20 miles long), which in its turn has a connexion with the
Gallinas river (7° S. lat.). On the narrow strip of land between
the ocean and the lake lies Lavanna, an important trading port,
where a short line of railway has been laid clown. Parallel with
the Gallinas flows the Moah or Sulimah river (falls at Whidaro),
at the mouth of which is the town of Sulimah; and about IC
miles farther east is the Manoh river. The countries inland be-
tween the Manoh and the Sulimah are Gbemna or Massaquoi, Soto,
M'perri, Barrie, Cowrali, &c.
History. — Sierra Leone (in the original Portuguese form Sierra
Leona) was known to its native inhabitants as Romarong or the
Jlountain, and received the current designation from the Portuguese
discoverer Piedrode Cintra(1462) on account of the lion-like roaring
of the thunder on its hill-tops. An English fort was built on the
Sierra Leone estuary towards the close of the 17th century, but
was soon afterwards abandoned. In 1786 Dr Smeathman proposed
his scheme for founding on the peninsula a colony of liberated
African slaves ; and in 1787 Captain Thompson, having purchased
the territory from Naimbana or King Tom of the Timmanehs,
commenced the settlement mth 400 Negioes and 60 Europeans.
Owing mainly to the utter shiftlessness of the settlers and partly to a
hostile attack by a body of natives, this first attempt proved a com-
plete failure. In 1791 Falconbridge collected the surviving fugitives
and laid out a new settlement (Granville's Town) ; and the pro-
moters of the enterprise — Granville Sharp, William '.'/ilberforce,
William Ludlam, Sir Richard Carr Glynn, &c., hitherto known
as the St George's Bay Company — obtained a charter incorporat-
ing them as the Sierra Leone Company (31 Geo. III. c. 55). In
1792 Clarkson introduced into the colony 1200 Negroes from the
Bahamas and Nova Scotia. Afzelius the botanist and Nordenskjbld
the mineralogist were sent out to explore the capabilities of the
country ; but the latter soon after died at Port Lokko (Port Logo).
In 1794 the settlement, which had been again transferrecj to
Freetown, was plundered by the French. An attempt to found a
similar colony on Bulama (mouth of the Rio Grande) was a com-
plete failure (Dalryraple and Beaver). In 1800 the company was
allowed to make laws not repugnant to those of England, but in
1807 it was glad to transfer all its rights to the crown. Sydney
Smith's jest that Sierra Leone had ahvays two governors, one just
arrived in the colony and the other just arrived in England, is but
a slighl exaggeration. There were eight changes between 1808 and
1824, and as many between 1865 and 1881. The names of Zachary
Macaulay, Sir Charles Macarthy, Sir Stephen J. Hill, Sir Arthur
Kennedy, Sir Samuel Rowe, and A. E. llavclock deserve to be
mentioned. In 1825 General Turner concluded a treaty placing
Turner's peninsula, &c., under British protection ; but effect was
not given to it till 1881. In 1875 the mouths of the Kates,
Kamaranka, Bompe. and Cockboro were annexed, and in 1SS3 the
seaboard towards the Liberian frontier. British influence has been
peacefully advancing inland under Sir Samuel Rowe. In 1866
Sierra Leone was made the seat of government of the new general
government of the British settlements on the West Coast of Africa
(comprising Sierra Leone, Gambia, the Gold Coast, and Lagos, each
of which was to have a legislative council) ; but in 1874 the Gold
Coast and Lagos were raised to a sep.arato government, and th«
Gambia alone remains attached to Sierra Leone.
Besides the older works of Falconbridge (1794), Wlnterliottom (1803). Wilkf r
(1847), Shrowa !1847), Poole (1850), see the vanouB works of Roberl Clarka
(.'ikcldies 0/ tnt Colony o/Sierra Uone, 186S, &c.) and Dr Afi'lcanus B. Horton
(H'tat African CouiilTia and Peoples, 18«8, ic.); A. Menzies, "Explor«tory
Expedition to the Mende Country, " in Church Mist. Intill., 1864 ; A. B. C.
Sidtliorpe, Hiit. of Sierra Uont ; T. R Grimth, " Sierra Leone, Past, Present,
an<l Future," in Proc. Roy. Cot. Insl., 1881-S2. vol. xlil. ; " Britiiobe Annexloniu
an der Sierra-Leonc-KUste," in rclcrmanji's Mitt., 1883. (H. A. W.)
SIEYES, Emmanuel Joseph (1748-1836), one of the
chief political thinkers and writers of the period of the
French Revolution and the first empire, was born at
Fr^jus (Var) on 3d May 1748. Ho was destined for the
church, was educated by the Jesuit.s, became a licentiate
of the canon law, and, having early distinguished hiusclf
by the astuteness and originality of his ideas, was appointed
vicar-general by the bishop of Chartres. Ho shared the
political fervour of the party of advance, and was fearlessly
logical in working out the new and as yet indistinct princi
46
S I G— S I G
pies of reform. An excellent opportunity vi-as provided for
the inculcation of his views by the invitation which Necker
addressed to all French writers to publish their opinions
upon the mode of convening the states-general. Sieyes
startled his coimtrymen by the issue of various pamphlets
upon the political situation, and particularly by his dar-
iDg and original treatise upon the< Third Estate, with its
three famous divisions in question and answer : — " 1st,
What is the Third Estate 1— Everything. AVhat has it
hitherto been in the political order ? — ^Tothing. Wliat
does it demand 1 — To become something." He attacked
unsparingly the privileged classes, and indeed in this his
most famous work he constructed, single-handed and at
once, a programme for the Revolution, The influence of
the book and of its author soon became enormous, and in
1789 the Abb(5 Sieyes was elected by the city of Paris as
a representative to the states-general, where he was the
first to propose that the three estates should meet together
in one assembly. On the rejection of his motion he
boldly suggested, the formation of an "assembly of repre-
sentatives of France already verified." He was not, how-
ever, successful as a speaker, his style being obscure and
his matter too compressed for' oral expression, — faults
which disappeared when he committed his thoughts to
writing. Yet he was one of the leaders of the assembly,
and was appointed a member of the committee on the
constitution. His published speech in opposition to the
power of absolute veto by the king hrouglit him still
further into notice. But he recognized his inaptitude for
public speaking, and, although even Mirabeau declared
that the silence of Sieyes was a public calamity, he stood
aside while his own ideas were being developed amidst
violence and riot both within and without the constituent
and afterwards "the legislative assembly. As excess fol-
lowed upon excess in the wild course of the Pi.evolution
Sieyes had neither the courage nor the power to quell the
riot. In danger of becoming a suspect, and fearful of his
life, he emerged from obscurity in November 1793, on the
occasion of the installation of Reason in Notre Dame.
Before the national convention he denied his faith, abjur-
ing the title of priest, professing that his only worship
was that of liberty arid equality and his only religion the
love of humanity and country, and concluding by formally
renouncing to the state the commuted jjension which he
enjoyed in lieu of his former Lr.ieiice. The overthrow of
the Jacobins at last overcame his fears and in March 1795
he is found publicly lauding the memory of those guillotined
Girondists in whose defence he, two years before, had never
once lifted his voice.
In the same year (1795) the ex-abb6 was commissioned
by the Conwntion to The Hague, where he successfully con-
cluded an offensive and defensive alliance between the
United Provinces and France. Without Sicyis no framing
of a constitution could be attempted, and he was accord-
ingly appointed member of a commission to draw up
organic laws, the constitution of 1793 having been found
unworkable. WTien the commission brought forward its
report Sieyes did not dissent ; but he proposed to the Con-
vention a separate scheme of his own, the specialty of which
was the provision for the appointment of a constitutional
jury which should be charged with the duty of revising all
legislative decrees against which the challenge was brought
that they were themselves at variance with the constitu-
tion. Eiis scheme was, however, rejected in favour of the
new constitution, and from that moment he became its
secret enemy. He was elected one of the first directory
of five, but he declined the honour. In 1798 he was
appointed the plenipotentiary of France to Prussia, where
he was received with great honour and where he speedily
began to plot against the Government h'^ represented.
He communicated his views to Napoleon, then in Egypt.
Meanwhile (1799) he was again elected to the directory,
and, his plans being ripe, he accepted oflSce. Then came
the roup d'etat of 18th Bruraaire (9th November 1799),
in which Sieyes took so important a part, but in which
he was unquestionably overborne by the genius and
audacity of Bonaparte. The provisional consulate com-
posed of Napoleon, Sieyes, and Duces lasted but a few
weeks. After a little Sieyes is a count of the empire and
the proprietor of Crosne (Seine-et-Oise), while Napoleon
is able to boast of how he has bribed the ex-abb^ out of
his constitutional views. Amid the political changes of
France, Sieyes on the secon<i return of the Bourbons fled to
Brussels; but after the revolution of 1830 he felt it safe
to return to Paris, where he died on 20th June 1 836.
SIGALON, Xavier (1788-1837), Frendi painter, born
at Uzes (Gard) towards the close of 1788, was one of the
few leaders of the romantic movement who cared for treat-
ment of form rather than of colour. The son of a poor
rural schoolmaster, he had a terrible struggle before he
was able even to reach Paris and obtain admission to
Guerin's studio. But the learning ofTered there did not
respond to his special needs, and he tried to train himself
by solitary study of the Italian masters in the gallery of
the Louvre. The Young Courtesan (Louvre), which ha
exhibited in 1822, at once attracted attention and was
bought for the Luxemlaourg. The painter, however, re-
garded it as but an essay in practice and soiiglit to measure
himself with a mightier motive ; this he did in his Locusta
(Nimes), 1824, and again in Athaliah's Massacre (Nantes),
1827. Both these works showed incontestable power; but
the Vision of St Jerome (Louvre), which appeared at the
salon of 1831, together with the Cruoifision (issengeaux),
was by far the most individual of all his achievements,
and that year he received the cross of the Legion of
Honour. The terrors and force of his pencil were not,
however, rendered attractive by any charm of colour ; his
paintings remained unpurchased, and Sigalon found him-
self forced to get a humble living at times by [lainting
portraits, when Thiers, then minister of the interior, i-e-
called him to Paris and entrusted him with the task of
copying the Sistine fresco of the Last Judgment for a hall
in the Palace of the Fine Arts. On the exhibition, in the
Baths of Diocletian at Rome, of Sigalou's gigantic task,
in which he had been aided by his pupil Numa Boucoiran,
the artist was visited in state by Gregory XVI. But
Sigalon w^as not destined long to enjoy his tardy honours
and the comparative ease procured by a small Government
pension ; returning to Rome to copy some pendants in
the Sistine, he died there of cholera on 9th August 1837.
See Julius Meyer, Gesch. d. franzosischcn Knnsl ; Yillot, Cat.
Tableaux, Louvre ; C. Blanc, Eistaire dcs Peintrcs, £coU Fran^aise.
SIGHTS. A sight for shooting may be defined as an
apparatus for determining the point of impact of a pro-
jectile, in popular language, for "aiming" or "laying."
In its simplest form it is scarcely recognizable as a sight.
When an expert cricketer throws the ball straight to the
wicket the eye and the hand assume that relative position
which experience has taught to be correct, and the eye may
be said to lay the hand on the wicket by means of the in-
tervening muscles, which therefore constitute the sight.
The next step towards accuracy is seen in the ordinary
shot-gun, where the eye is placed over and behind the
centre of the breech, and sees that a bead placed above
the centre of the muzzle is in a direct line with the desired
point of impact. If we add a notch at the centre of the
breech to fix the eye more accurately^ wo shall have the
hind-sight, the fore-sight, and the object brought into line,
when the gun is correctly laid.
This would constitute a perfect direct mechanical sight
I
SIGHTS
47
if we could assume (1) that the projectile was not subject
to gravity; (2) that it had no tendency to deviate if
passing through a jcalm atmosphere ; (3) that the object
aimed at was stationary ; (4) that the weapon discharged
was stationary ; (5) that the atmosphere was still.
(1) The first condition is never realized: the projectile
begins to drop towards the earth the moment it leaves the
gun, and therefore to make it strike at a given level
its first direction must be above this level. Hence the
hind-sight must be raised to make the necessary correction,
and the angle between the axis of the piece and the straight
line connecting the elevated hind-sight with the fore-sight
and object is called the "angle of elevation." Supposing the
projectile to move in vacuo and to drop simply under the
action of gravity, the calculation of the amount of eleva-
tion to be given for any range at any velocity would be
easily made, but the resistance of the air renders the
problem an e.xceedingly complicated and difficult one (see
Gunnery), and only approximate solutions have as yet
been discovered. Next, supposing the hind-sight to be
correctly elevated, it is evidently necessary to keep it up-
right ; deviation to the right will cause the projectile to
strike to the right of the object and deviation to the left to
strike to the left of it. The amount of error is given by the
equation
ii=r tan 6 tan e,
where c? = error in direction, r = range, 6 = angle made by
plane of elevation with the perpendicular, and c = angle of
elevation. The rifleman should study to keep the hind-sight
as upright as possible, and indeed little error is likely to
occur with a good shot from this cause. But the case is
srery different with a gun mounted on an uneven or mov-
ing platform, and many devices have been resorted to for
automatically overcoming the difficulty. They all, however,
belong to either the spirit-level or the pendulum type.
(2) Secondly, the projectile deviates of its own accord
from the vertical plan^ If it is unrifled, its imperfections
of manufacture cause errors which may be in any direc-
tion, and which, therefore, cannot be compensated by any
method of sighting. If it is rifled, the spin given to it
renders these imperfections of little consequence, but, on
the other hand, confers a constant tendency to deviation.
If we lay a gun on the face of a clock, and the rifling
causes a point on the surface of the shot to turn in the
same direction as the hands, the shot will deviate to the
right, contrariwise to the left. The cause and extent of
this motion have never been thoroughly worked out. It
appears to arise from the circumstance that the axis round
which the shot rotates points always above the trajectory,
since the principle of least resistance. causes the direction
of the axis to follow tardily the ever-changing curve ;
hence the pressure of the air, which of course acts in the
direction of the trajectory, is greater on the lower tl-.an
on the upper surface, and the unequal friction thereby
set up causes the shot, as it were, to roll sideways ; here
also the jirinciple of least resistance turns the axis slightly
out of the vertical plane of fire towards the actual direc-
tion of the projectile. The path is doubly curved, — first,
downwards by gravity, secondly, sideways by the rotation ;
the latter curve, seen in plan, is nearly a parabola. In
order to correct this tendency of rifled projectiles to shoot
round the corner, as it may be .said, the hind-sight is in-
clined at an angle with the vertical, so that the more it is
raised to give elevation the greater becomes the correc-
tion, which assumes the form of a curve not very dis-
similar to that due to rotation. The amount of error is
practically determined on the firing ground, and the proper
angle for the sight is given by the formul*
tan»=-?L
(3) Every one who shoots birds on the wing is acquainted
with the difficulties appertaining to the non-fulfilment of
the third ci •■ lition. The expert game-shot aims ahead of
the object more or less, according to his judgment of the
relative velocities of the projectOc and the target and of
the distance of the latter. Practice makes this compara-
tiv'ly easy at the short ranges of ordinary sport ; but in
the case of a heavy fort gun firing at a vessel under full
steam 3000 yards off, it becomes evident that considerable
allowance must .be made. Put the mean horizontal velo-
city of the shot over a 3000 yards range at 1000 foot-
seconds, the time of flight mil be 9 seconds ; if the ship is
running past at the rate of 20 foot-seconds it will have
traversed 180 feet during the shot's flight, and it will be
necessary to direct the gun so much ahead of the desired
point of impact. The angle of divergence in the case just
given is tan -''OS; and, supposing the horizontal velocity
of the projectile to be constant throughout its flight, this
angle would be correct for a ship running at a speed of
20 foot-seconds whatever the range.
(4) The fourth condition is rarely met with except on
board ship, and it is evident that it obeys the same laws
and is subject to the same kind of correction as the third.
The correcting angle, however, is here given by the ship's
speed across the line of fire and the starting velocity of
the projectile.
(5) The fifth source of error differs from the other.= in
being variable and uncontrollable. A gust of wind maj
spoil the best shot ; and, though it is possible in practice to
allow for deviation due to a steady breeze, yet the force
and even the direction of the moving air differ so fre-
quently at different parts of the trajectory that it has
hitherto been found impossible to devise any satisfactory
correction beyond that obtainable from knowledge of the
point of impact of a previous shot. The effect of wind
on direction may be calculated from the formula.
/ Ag Vi't sin 0 ,
D = \V<sin?>-990-^ log-]
600 to
' + i
}■
where D = deflexion in feet, W = velocity of wind. in feet
per second, t = time of flight in seconds, <f> = angle between
direction of wind and line of fire, A = area of longitudinal
section of shot in square feet, w = weight of shot in pounds,
g = force of gravity. This formula assumes that the wind
steadily carries the shot sideways without changing the
parallelism of its axis, an assumption not greatly in error
with heavy projectiles having the centre of gravity nearly
coincident with the centre of figure. The effect of wind
on range may be arrived at by adding or subtracting the
velocity of the air, resolved in the direction of the object,
to or from the horizontal velocity of the projectile and
calculating by the tables (see Gunnery) the loss or gain
due to the increased or diminished resistance.
Tbo accompanyin" diagrams (figs. 1, 2) represent wliat are called
"speed-sights" in the royal navy, as applied to a •1-inch breech-
loading gun. The gun is shown elevated at 8° for a range of •1600
yards. The hind or "^ngenf'sight is sloped sideways at an angle
of 1° 30' to correct the constaiit tendency of the projectile to deviate
to the right The sight is raised in the socket till the lowest visible
graduation on the bar reads the remiircd range on the face towards
the breech and the elevation in degrees on the face towards thu
muzzle. A crosshead carries a leaf, which is traversed to the right
or left by a doublethre.idcd screw; this leaf is provided with a lino
wire strung horizontally between two unrights ; hence this form of
sight is souictimes known a£ the H sight. The cros.sliead is gra-
duated with two scales, one on the muzzle- face reading minutes of
dellexion for giving any desired conectiun for wind or uneven plat-
form, the other on the brecch-face for allowing for the speed of tliB
cnoiny in knota across the line of fire. Thu foresight is lixed in
thu gun, and cannot be raised or lowered. It has a trosshiaJ
provided with a traversing leaf, which carries a round bead on a thin
support. Th' crosshead is graduated to allow for tlio spceil of tlio
firiDg vessel acrow tin- line of fire. In practice the gunner makca
all uicse adjustmeuts as ucarlv a.i ho can judge, then lakca up hi*
48
S I G— S 1 G
position about 4 feet behind the breech of the gun holding the
&g lanyard taut ; ^vhen the object and the bead of the ore-s.^ht
appear to be on the centre of the wire across the H of the hind-
*'^The%orm3 of sights preferred by experts for accurate
laying are extremely varied, and nothing but practice can
determine the most suitable to individual eyesight. Where
the eye can be brought close to the hind-sight, one of the
best systems is that adopted for British field-guns, where
a fine peep-hole constitutes the hind-sight, and the fore-
sight consists of diagonal cross-wires; the first rapid or
rough adjustment
of the gun is made
•with the aid of a V-
shaped notch on the
hind -sight and an
acorn point on the
fore -sight. Some
prefer pointers for
thefore-sight,either
O-sbaped, so that
the object appears
between the cusps
of the O — this is
the French method
— or placed diagon-
ally like cross-wires
with the intersec-
tion removed. Sil-
vered vertical lines
are preferred by
many good shots.
If thegun is mount-
ed in a fixed posi-
tion, say on a siege
platform,and, if the
relative positions
of the target and
feome other object
Fig. 2.
Sceed-sishts used in tbe British navy,
some otuer uuJc^-^/ . , .i
are known, it may be found convement to lay the gun on
the target by directing the sights at the other object.
This is principaUy done in the case of howitzers dropping
shells at high elevation into a work. They fire over a pro-
tecting bank and are laid by reversed sights from the
muzzle backwards at a steeple, a pole, or other convenient
^ To secure greater accuracy than can be attained by the
eye, telescopes are resorted to. It is obviously easy to
apply to a match rifle a telescope with sufficient strength
to resist the jar of firing, and to provide it with the neces-
sary fittings for elevation, deflexion, &c. ; but with ordnance
the shock is much greater, and the telescope has to be
removed before firing. This renders it difficult to secure
a truly accurate attachment ; but probably the immediate
future will witness a sufficiently satisfactory solution of
the problem as regards guns on firm platforms. Lfl-orts
have been made from time to time to overcome the
necessity for extreme accuracy due to the short bearing of
the telescope by bringing the fore-sight into play; this
can be done either by great powers of adjustment of focus,
so as to view first the fore-sight and then the target, or
by adding a half-object lens, and so getting simultaneous
images of fore-sight and target. _
The application of electricity to the laying and hnng
of heavy guns has caused a remaikable development of
the systems of sighting introduced recently into the forts
which protect the shores of the United Kingdom, bup-
pose a battery of guns to command a channel, and that
;t is desired to concentrate their fire on a hostile vessel
endeavouring to run past. Each detachment lays its gun
both for elevation and direction in accordance with the
fifures which appear on a dial in the emplacement. Each
dial is worked by electricity from an observing station
away from the smoke and noise of the fort ; as the hostile
vessel approaches the observing officer follows its course
on a chart. The observing station is placed at a consider-
able height above the water-line, so that a vertical base
of calculation is obtained. Hence the angle of depression
given by the telescope when pointing at the object indicates
the raufe, and the direction of the telescope indicates the
line of°fire; these indications are automatically corrected
for the positions of the guns. In practice the officer follows
the ship's course, signals to the battery the line and distance
of a point a little ahead of the vessel, and receives a signal
from the battery that the guns are laid and ready. He
then fires electrically as the ship is coming into the ex-
pected position. (e- m.)
SIGISMUND (1362-1437), German emperor, was bom
on 14th February 1362. After the death of his father,
the emperor Charles TV., he received the margraviate of
Brandenburg ; and his betrothal with Mary, the daughter
and heiress of Louis of Poland and Hungary, gave him a
right to look forward to the succession in these two coun-
tries. But in 1383, when Louis died, the Poles chose
Hedwig, Mary's sister, as their queen ; and Sigismund
was unable to marry Mary and to secure the crown of
Hungary until 1387, as her rights had been seized by
Charles of Durazzo, and after his death she had been
made prisoner by the ban of Croatia. Sigismund was
soon involved in a war with the Turks, and in order to
obtain the means of carrying on the struggle he gave
Brandenburg in pledge to his cousin Jobst of Moravia.
Defeated at Nicopolis in 1396, Sigismund fled to Greece;
and in his absence his wife died, ^^'hen he returned to
Hungary the people rose against him, made him prisoner,
and gave the crown to Ladislaus of Naples. Sigismund
escaped, and having sold the Altra„rk, which he had in-
herited from his brother John, he was able to collect an
army and to crush the Hungarian febelhon. Meanwhile
his brother Wenceslaus, king of the Romans, had been
deposed, and Rupert of the Palatinate was chosen as his
successor. In 1410 Rupert died, and Sigismund and Jobst
of Moravia were both elected to the crown. Jobst died in
the following year, and then Sigismund was universally^
recognized as king. One of the chief events of his reign
was the assembling of the council of Constance, which met
for the purpose of bringing the great schism in the church
to an end. Sigismund marred his services in connexion
with the council by assenting to the burning of John Hus,
to whom he had granted a safe conduct For this treachery
he had to pay a heavy penalty, for it led indirectly to the
Husite War, which raged for about sixteen years. In 1435
peace was restored, and Sigismund obtamed possession of
Bohemia. In 1415 he gave Brandenburg whicTi had been
restored to him after Jobst's death in fief to Frederick,
burgraveof Nuremberg; and in 1423 in reward for ser-
TJ, rendered in the Husite War, Frederick, margrave o
Meissen, received the duchy of Saxony -'^h tje electc^ra
dignity. Sigismund was cro.^-ned emperor in 14 A having
obta ned tbe^ Italian crown two years before. He died a
Znaim in Moravia on 9th December 1437. He possessed
considerable intellectual ability, but he never did ful
j-uS to his powers,-being recklessly extravagant and
of a wayward and impulsive temper. CphroUcr
See Aschbach, Gcschichte A«'>.'-f ^"-"''.f |^,\^^-^|kold ^S
Deutsche Rcichstagsalte^ unlet Kaiser ^.^mu-ui HS' 8)-
SIGISMUND, the name of three kings ot i oiana. .^et
Poland, vol. xix. pp. 290-291 and 294.
SIGMARINGEN, the seat of government of the Pru.s.aE
administrative division of the same name, is a small to^vr
S I G — S I G
49
on the Danube with (1880) 4154 inhabitants. Tlie divi-
sion of Sigmaringcn is composed of the two formerly
sovereign principalities of Hohenzollern-Signiaringen and
Hohenzoliern-Hechingen (see HouenZollern, vol. xii.
p. 52) and has an area of 440 square miles, with a popula-
tion in 1880 of 67,624. The Sigmaringen part of the
Hohenzollern lands was the larger of the two (297 square
miles) and lay mainly to the south of Hechifigen, though
the district of Haigorloch on the Neckar also belonged to
it. The name of Hohenzollern is used much more fre-
quently than the official Sigmaringen to designate the
combined principalities.
^ SIGNALS, Naval. A system of naval signals com-
l)rise3 different methods of conveying orders or information
to or from a ship in siglit and within hearing, but at a
distance too great to permit of hailing, — in other words,
beyond the reach of the voice, even when aided by the
speaking-trumpet. Signals are divided into classes accord-
ing to the instruments with which and the circumstances
under which they are made. There are sight and sound
signals ; flag, semaphore, fixed lantern, flashing, firework,
horn or steam-whistle, and gun signals ; day, night, fog,
and distant signals. Besides these, there are other divi-
sions, such as general, vocabulary, evolutionary, itc, which
depend upon technical considerations and are matters of
arrangement.
The necessity of some plan of rap' !Iy conveying orders or
intelligence to a distance was early recognized. Polybius de-
scribes two methods, one proposed by JEneas Tacitus more
than three centuries before Christ, and one perfected by
himself, which, as any word could be spelled by it, antici-
pated the underlying principle of recent systems. The
signal codes of the ancients are believed to have been elabo-
rate. Generally some kind of flag was used. Shields were
also displayed in a preconcerted' manner, and some have
imagined that the reflected rays of the sun were flashed
from them as with the modern heliograph (see Helio-
graphy). In the Jliddle Ages flags, banners, and lanterns
were used to distinguish particular squadrons, and as marks
of rank, as they are at present, also to call oflicers to the
admiral, and to report sighting the enemy and getting into
danger. The invention of cannon made an important
addition to the means of signalling. In the instructions
issued by Don Martin de Padilla in 1597 the use of guns,
lights, and fires is mentioned. The introduction of the
square rig permitted a further addition, that of letting fall
a sail a certain number of times. Before the middle of
the 17th century only a few stated orders and reports could
be made known by signalling. Flags were used by day,
and lights, occasionally, with guns, at night. The significa-
tion then, and for a long time after, depended upon the
position in which the light or flag was dibplayed. Orders,
indeed, were as often as possible communicated by hailing
or even by means of boats. As the size of ships increased
the inconvenience of both plans became intolerable. Some
attribute the first attein\jt at a regular code to Admiral
Penn, but the credit of it is usually given to James II.
when duk'e of York. Notwithstanding the attention paid
to the subject by Paul Hoste and others, signals continued
strangely imperfect till late in the 18th century. Towards
1780 Admiral Kempenfclt devised a plan of flag-signalling
which was the parent of that now in use. Instead of in-
dicating diflerences of moaning by varying the position of
a solitary flag, he combined distinct flags in pairs. About
the beginning of the 19th century Sir Home Popham im-
proved a method of conveying messages by flags proposed
by Mr Hall Gowcr, and greatly increased a ship's power
of communicating with others. The number of night and
fog signals that could be shown was still very restricted.
In 1867 an innovation of prodigious importance was made
22—4
by the adoption in the British navy of Captain Philip
Colorab's flashing system, on which he had been at work
since 1858. This is in general use in all fleets, though,
oddly enough, on its first trial at sea it was condcnmeil.
It is not too much to say that the Colomb system has
made it possible to handle, with confidence and safety, in
darkness and fog, squadrons composed of the gigantic
armour-clads of the day. Its adoption has not only con-
tributed very materially to the increased efficiency of the
British fleets but also immensely reduced the risk of acci-
dents ; and the saving to the tax-payer since its introduc-
tion may probably be estimated in hundreds of thousands
of pounds.
In the British navy, which is copied by most others, sight-
signals are made with flags, the semaphore, "flashes," fixed
lanterns, and occasionally with fireworks, and for "dis-
tant" signals with flags, balls, r.nd pendants displayed
on account of shape but not of colour. Sound-signals are
made with horns, steam-whistles, and guns. There are
two sets of flags, — one of ten numbered from 1 to 10, and
another of twenty-one called after letters of the alphabet.
There are also pendants and a few special flags. Tho
numbered flags are used with the general signal book,
a kind of dictionary in which figures stand opposite
sentences conveying orders or announcements. Oi)posite
123 might stand "hoist in all boats," which would mean
that, when the flag called 1 was hoisted with 2 beneath it
and 3 beneath 2, the ship or ships addressed — indicated
by a special flag or by pendants — were ordered to hoist
all boats in. The lettered flags are used with the voca-
bulary sigTial book, in which opposite collections of letters
are put single words or small groups of words. Thus, if
ABC were opposite the word "admiral" and STO opposite
"■will sail at noon," when tho first three flags were hoisted
the signalman on board each ship addressed would note
them down with their signification. When all addressed
had acknowledged the first "hoist" tho flags would bo
hauled dowu and STO would be hoisted, to be <i>':now-
Icdged and noted in like manner. The admiral v;o'ild
thus have made known his intention of sailing at a given
hour. From this it will appear that the general code is
used for words of command and tho vocabulary for long
communications. The night signal book contains a
limited number of definite orders and announcements
made known by exhibiting lanterns, never more than four,
arranged vertically, horizontally, or in a square. For a
few signals some kind of firework is displayed. Fog-
signals are made by firing difTcrent numbers of guns at
fixed intervals. Owing to the slowness of flag-signalling,
it is now, especially for the vocabulary and at moderate
distances, largely superseded by the semaphore, an upright
post with two arms moving in a vertical plane. Tho
changed positions of tho arms indicate letters and each
word is spelled. Before the adoption of Captain Colomb's
system, at night and in fogs only a few announcements
could be made by signal, and sending messages was un-
known. By a series of symbols formed of dots and short
lines, like those of the Morse alphabet, ho represents
figures, letters, and special words. Thus ... means 3, and
7. The system can bo employed in daylight, at night,
and in fogs. In daylight long and short waves of a Hn;.^
on a staff reproduce the flashes ; in fogs long and short
blasts on a fog-horn or steam-whistle ; and at night tho
alteinato exposure and concealment of the light of a Inmp.
Every order in the general signal book and every word u\
the vocabulary— by spelling, indeed, every word in tho
language — may be communicated by this .system. Distant
signals, now rarely used, are made by hoisting flags of
different shapes at distances at which colours become
invisible. Tho Army and Navy Siffnal Book contains tho
50
S I G— S I G
code for communications between a ship and its boats or
military stations on siiore ; the International, with special
flags, is for communicating with merchant vessels. In the
British navy there is a corps of signalmen rising in grade
from boys to chief petty officers. They are selected from
the most intelligent and best educated boys in the training-
ships, and go through a Course of special instruction in
their duties. (c. A. g. b.)
SIGNORELLI, Luca (c. \U2-c. 1524), one of the great-
est of the Italian painters who ushered in the full culmina-
tion of the art under Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, and
Raphael, was born in Cortona — his full name being Luca
d'Egidio di Ventura ; he has also been called Luca da
Cortona. The precise date of his birth is uncertain ; but,
as he is said to have died at the age of eighty-two, and as
he was certainly alive during some part of 1524, the
birth-date of 1442 must be nearly correct. He belongs
to the Tuscan school, associated with that of Umbria.
His first impressions of art seem to be due to Perugia, —
the style of Bonfigli, Fiorenzo, and Pinturicchio. Lazzaro
Vasari, the great-grandfather of Giorgio Vasari, the his-
torian of art, ^va3 brother to Luca's mother ; he got Luca
apprenticed to Piero della Prancesca. In 1472 the young
man was painting at Arezzo, and in 1474 at Cittk di
CasteUo. He presented to Lorenzo de' Sledici a picture
which is probably the one named the School of Pan,
discovered some years ago in Florence, and now belonging
to Marquis Corsi ; it is almost the same subject which he
painted also on the wall of the Petrucci palace in Siena, —
the principal figures being Pan himself, Olympus, Echo,
a man reclining on the ground, and two listening shep-
herds (see Schools of Painting, vol. xxi. p. 434, fig. 8).
He executed, moreover, various sacred pictures, showing
a study of Botticelli and Lippo Lippi. Pope Sixtus IV.
commissioned SignoreUi to paint some frescos, now mostly
very dim, in the shrine of Loreto,- — Angels, Doctors
of the Church, Evangelists, Apostles, the Incredulity of
Thomas, and the Conversion of St Paul. He also executed
a single fresco in the Sistine Chapel in Rome, the Acts
of Moses ; another, Moses and Zipporah, which has been
usually ascribed to SignoreUi, is now recognized as the
work of Perugino. Luca may have stayed in Rome from
1478 to 1484. In the latter year he returned to his native
Cortona, which remained from this time his ordinary home.
From 1497 he began some professional excursions. In
Siena, in the convent of Chiusuri, he painted eight frescos,
forming part of a vast series of the Life of St Benedict ;
they are at present much injured. In the palace of Pan-
dolfo Petrucci he worked upon various classic or mytho-
logical subjects, including the School of Pan already men-
tioned. From Siena he went to Orvieto, and here he
produced the works which, beyond, all others, stamp his
greatness in art. These are the frescos in the chapel of
S. Brizio, in the cathedral, which already contained some
pictures on the vaulting by Fra Angelico. The works of
SignoreUi represent the Last Days of the Mundane Dis-
pensation, with the Pomp and the Fall of Antichrist, and
the Eternal Destiny of Man, and occupy three vast lunettes,
each of them a single picture. In one of them. Antichrist,
after his portents and impious glories, falls headlong from
the sky, crashing down into an innumerable crowd of men
and women. Paradise, the Elect and the Condemned,
Hell, the Resurrection of the Dead, and the Destruction
of the Reprobate follow in other compartments. To
Angelico's ceiling SignoreUi added a section showing figures
blowing trumpets, <kc. ; and in another ceiling he depicted
the Madonna, Doctors of the Church, Patriarchs, and
Martyrs. There is also a great deal of subsidiary work
connected with Dante, and with the poets and legends of
antiquity. The daring and terrible invention of the great
compositions, with their powerful treatment of the nude
and of the most arduous foresliortenings, and the general
mastery over complex grouping and distribution, marked
a development of art which had never previously been
attained. It has been said that Michelangelo felt so
strongly the might of Signorelli's delineations that he
borrowed, in his own Last Judgment, some of the figures
or combinations which he found at Orvieto ; this state-
ment, however, has not been verified bj' precise instances.
The contract for Luca's work is still on record. He under-
took on 5th April 1499 to complete the ceiling for 200
ducats, and to paint the walls for 600, along with lodging,
and in every month two measures of wine and two quarters
of corn. Signorelli's first stay in Orvieto lasted not more
than two yeans. In 1502 he returned to Cortona, and
jiainted a dead Christ, with the Marys and other figures.
Two years later he W'as once more back in Orvieto, and
completed the whole of his work in or about that time,
i.e., some two years before 150G, — a date famous in the
history of the advance of art, when Michelangelo displayed
his cartoon of Pisa.
After finishing off at Orvieto, SignoreUi was much ir.
Siena. In 1507 he executed a great altarpiece for S.
Medardo at Arcevia in Umbria — the Madonna and Child,
with the Massacre of the Innocents and other episodes. In
1508 Pope Julius II. determined to re-adorn the camerc
of the Vatican, and he summoned to Rome SignoreUi, in
company with Perugino, Pinturicchio, and Bazzi (Sodoma).
They began oiierations, but were shortly all superseded to
make way for Raphael, and their work was taken down.
Luca now returned to Siena, living afterwards for the most
part in Cortona. He continued constantly at work, but tho
jierformances of his closing years were not of special mark.
In 1520 he went with one of his pictures to Arezzo. Hero
he saw Giorgio Vasari, aged eight, and encouraged his
father to second the boy's bent for art. Vasari tells a
pretty story how the wellnigh octogenarian master said to
him "Impara, parentino" ("You nuist study, my little kins-
man"), and clasped a jasper round his neck as a preservative
against nose-bleeding, to which the child was subject. He
was partially paralytic when he began a fresco of the Bap-
tism of Christ in the chapel of Cardinal Passcrini's palace
near Cortona, which is the last picture of his that we find
specified. SignoreUi stood in great repute not only as a
painter but also as a citizen. He entered the magistracy
of Cortona as early as 1488, and in 1524 held a leading
position among the magistrates of his native place,
or about the year 1524 he died there.
SignoreUi from an early ago paid great attention to anatomy,
carrying on liis studies in burial gi'ouuds. He surpassed all his
contemporaries in shomng the structure and mechanism of tlie inido
in immediate action ; and he even went beyond nature in ex]icri-
ments of this kind, trying hypothetical attitudes and combinations.
His drawings in the Louvre demonstrate this and bear a close
analogy to the method of Michelangelo. He aimed at powerful
truth rather than nobility of form ; colour was comparatively
neglected, and his chiaroscuro exhibits sharp oppositions of lights
and shadows. He had a vast influence over the painters of his own
and of succeeding times, but liad no pupils or assistants of high
mark ; one of them was a nephew nameil Francesco. He was a
married man with a family ; one of his sons died, seemingly through
some sudden casualty, and Luca depicted the corpse with sorrow-
ful but steady self-possession. He is described as full of kindliness
and amiability, sincere, courteous, easy with his art.assistauts, of
fine manners, living and dressing well ; indeed, according to Vasari,
he always lived more like a nobleman than a painter. The Torii-
giani Gallery in Florence contains a grand life-sized portrait by
SignoreUi of a man in a red cap and vest ; this is said to be tho
likeness of the painter himself, and corresponds with Vasari's ob-
servation. The pictorial reputation o£ SignoreUi has revived and
ripened very much throughout Europe in recent years. The fore-
going account of him is principally founded upon that given by
Messrs Crowe and Cavalcaselle. In Great Britain there is no better
specimen of his work tjian the Circumcision of Jesus, a panel lately
in Hamilton Palace, near Glasgow. (W. M. R.)
o i K — S I L
5i
SIKHS. See India, vol. xii. p. 808, and Pu»jab. vol.
gi. p. 110; also Hindustani, vol. xi. p. 844.
SIKKIM, a native state ^f India, in the eastern Hima-
laya Mountains, between 27° 9' and 27° 58' N. lat., and
between 88' i' and 89° E. long., and bounded on the north
and north-east by Tibet, on the south-east by BhutAn, on
the south by the British district of Darjiling, and on the
west by NepAl. It covers an area of 2G00 square miles,
with an estimated population of 7000. The Tibetan name
for Sikkim is Dingjing or Demo-jong, and for the people
Deunjong Maro ; the Gurkhas call them Lepchas, but Mr
Clements Markham, in his work on Tibet (1879), says
that their propar name is Rong. The whole of the state is
situated at a considerable elevation within the Himalayan
mountain zone. From the level of the sea to an elevation
of 12,000 feet, Sikkim is covered with dense forests of tall
umbrageous trees. The mountains in the south are gene-
rally lower than those of Darjiling district, but north of
Tumlung the passes are of great height. Jelap-la, the
most southerly of these, rises to 13,000 feet; the two next
are the Guiatu-la and Yak-la, loading into the Chumbi
valley of Tibet, the latter being 14,000 feet high; further
north are the Cho-la (15,000 feet), on the direct road from
Tumlung to Chumbi, and the Tankra-la (1(3,083 feet), the
most snowy pass in Sikkim. The state is drained by the
Tista and its affluents, and by the Am-machu which rises
near Parijong, at the foot of the Chamalhari peak (23,929
feet), and flows through the Chumbi valley into the district
of Jalpaiguri under the name of the Torsha. Through
Sikkim lie the most promising routes for trade with Tibet.
At present, however, the Tibetan passes are closed to
ordinary British subjects, though an active .trade is main-
tained in certain articles by Bhuteas and Tibetans.
Tho capital of Sikkim is Tumlung, where the raja resides during
Ihe winter and spring, usually going to his estates at Chumbi in
Tibet in summer, in order to avoid tho heavy rains. The raja
■receives a subsidiary allowance of £1200 a year from the British
Government, in consideration of his position as former ruler of tho
hill territory of Darjiling and a submontane tract on tho plain
called the llorung. Communication with the state is kept up
through tho deputy commissioner of Darjiling. Sikkim produces
rice, Indian corn, millet, oranges, and two or three sorts of Lepcha
cloth. Its mineral products are lime and copper.
SILE^niS, a personage of Greek mythology, a drunken
attendant~&f Bacchus and closely allied to the satyrs, of
■whom he appears as the leader. Elderly satyrs were called
Sileni. The Sileni belong especially to the legends of
Asia Minor, and particularly of Lydia and Phrygia. Tho
stories as to tho birth of Silcnus were various. Some
called him a .son of Hermes, others of Pan and a nymph ;
others said that he sprang from the drops of the blood of
Sky. Sometimes ho figures as the guardian of Dionysus.
In jpito of his dissipated habits he possessed a large stock
of general information, which however, like Proteus, ho
only imparted on compulsion. Midas, king of Phrygia,
caught him by mixing wine in tho spring out of which
Silenus, in a moment of weakness, had condescended to
drink. The conversation which followed is fully reported
by Thoopompus and Aristotle (/Elian, Var. Jlist., iii. 18 ;
Plutarch, Consol. ad ApolL, 27). Prefacing his remarks
with a slight sketch of terrestrial geography and a brief
reference to the fauna characteristic of tho different con-
tinents, Silenus proceeded to dra\M an edifying picture of
tho pleasures of true piety as contrasted with tho dreadful
fate in store for tho wicked, winding up with a gloomy
reflexion ort-the vanity of human life and the ex|ircssion
of a wish that ho had never boon born. Another of his
homilies has been preserved by Virgil (Eel., G) : two
shupliords surprise the sage drunk in a cave ; they bind
him with flowery chains, and ho tolls them how tho world
was made, with stories "of remotest eld." Apart from
this gift of sermonizing, the Sileni seem to have resembled
the satjTs in their love of music, wine, and women.
Indeed, the Greeks appear not to have sharply distinguished
between them ; for Marsyas, the mythical flute-player, ia
called sometimes a satyr, sometimes a Silcnus. In art
Silenus appears as a fat, dumpy old man, with a snub nose
and a bald head, riding on an a'ss and supported by satyrs
who keep tho jolly toper from tumbling off. Oj he is
depicted standing or lying witli his inseparable companion,
a wine-skin, which again he sometimes bestrides. Some-
times he is sitting with his Pan's-pipe or flute in his hand.
SILESIA (Germ. Schlesicn), a district in the eastern
part of Germany, between 49° 28' and 52° 7' N, lat. and
13° 50' and 19° 20' E. long., was formerly united with the
kingdom of Bol -^mia in the form of a duchy (or rather
group of duchies;, and is now unequally shared between
Prussia and Austria. Geographically it is divided into
Lower and Upper Silesia, the whole of the former and
part of the latter belonging to Prussia. The total area is
17,540 square miles.
It is generally asserted that the original inhabitants of
Silesia were the Germanic tribes of the Lygii and Quadi,
who retired before the Slavonic immigrations of tho 6th
century, but this statement is beyond tho range of posi-
tive proof. The earliest form of the name, Sleenzane or
Zlesane, shows a Slavonic origin, and further than this
we have no means of penetrating. Various explanations
have been given of the name, and one old writer gravely
connects it with the prophet Elisha ; but there is little
doubt that it was first applied to the district round Mount
Zlenz (the modern Zobten) and the river Zlenza (Ijohe),
and thence spread gradually over the whole region now
known as Silesia. These early Slavonic inhabitants bo-
longed to the family of Lochs (Poles), and the modern
Polish name for the inhabitants is Zlesaki. Tho history of
Silesia consists substantially of the process which has con-
verted it from a Slavonic territory into a predominantly
German land.
The earliest notices of Silesia aro extremely vague, nor
can we exactly define the scope of the name in the first
thousand years of our era. It seems to have formed part
of the great but short-lived kingdom of Moravia (q.v.) in
tho 9th fentury, and afterwards oscillated between the
neighbouring kingdoms of Bohemia and Poland, becoming
definitely incorporated with the latter at the end' of tho
10th century. Christianity was introduced about the year
9G0, and from 1000 on wo have an unbroken list of bishops
of Breslau. The first contact of Germany with Silesia was
disastrous to the former, as it was on the fastnesses of
Silesia that Henry V. squandered his strength in his
unsuccessful expedition against Poland in 1109. More
fortunate was the intervention of Frederick Larbarossa in
1163 in behalf of the three sons of the dispossessed
Ladislaus, a member of tho Polish royal family of tho
Piasts. He succeeded in securing as their share of tho
Polish dominions tho whole of Silesia, though it wa.s not
till forty or fifty years later that it could bo said to havo
gained actual independence of Poland. These three
princes were the ancestors and founders of the vaiious
ducal lines that henceforth ruled in Silesia, and their
intimate connexion with tho German king accounts in
great measure for the process of Gcrmanization which
Silesia now began to undergo, chiefly through tho in-,
troduction of Gorman colonists in scantily peopled or
desolated districts. Tho eldest of tho three sons of
Ladislaus received tho town of Breslau and by far tho
largest portion of territory, so that tho history of Sile.sia
for tho next two or three generations is practically that
of his line. Under his grandson Henry tho Bearded
(1202-1238) tho Gcrmanization of Silesia mado rapid ijro-
52
SILESIA
gress, and the duchy at that time may be looked upon as a
bulwark or mark against the Slavs in the south-east of
Germany, just as the duchy of Prussia was in the north-
east. Henry extended his sway much beyond the limits
of Silesia, and in fact united under his sceptre nearly
three quarters of the old Polish dominions. His son
Henry II. (1238-1241) had a short reign with a glorious
end, falling in 1241 at the battle of Liegnitz, where his
determined resistance turned back from Germany the
alarming Mongolian invasion. On his death his terri-
tories were shared among his sons, and the series of
divisions and subdivisions began which resulted in almost
every Silesian town of any importance becoming the
capital of an independent prince. At the beginning
of the 14th century there were no fewer than 17 prin-
cipalities of this kind, nearly all held by dukes of the
Piast family. It was inevitable that these petty rulers
should feel the want of a support against the encroach-
ments of Poland, and it was inevitable, too, that the rela-
tion opened in consequence with Bohemia should gradually
change from mere protection to feudal supremacy. By
1355 the supremacy of Bohemia was formally recognized
as extendiivg over the whole of Silesia, though the Silesians
retained a considerable measure of independence, including
-the right to hold general diets for the settlement of their
internal relations. The kings of Bohemia at this time
(John, Charles IV.) were members of the German house
of Luxemburg, and Silesia under their sway may be
looked upon as an entirely German land.
During the Hussite wars of the 15th century Silesia,
•which adhered zealously to the old faith, suffered greatly
from Hussite forays. The Luxemburg dominion broke
up in 1458,. when Hungary and Bohemia elected rulers
of their own nationality. Silesia, however, neglected the
opportunity to elect a German king for itself, and sup-
ported the Bohemian king George Podiebrad. Breslau,
still the most powerful of the principalities, threw in its
lot with Matthew CorvinuS of Hungary, who fought many
of his battles on Silesian soil. By the treaty of Olmiitz
in 1479 Matthew acquired all the tributary lands of
■the Bohemian crown, including Silesia, which remained
attached to Hungary down to 1490. In that year
Bohemia and Hungary became once more united under
the same king. In 1526 Silesia passed with the rest of
the Bohemian inheritance to the house of Hapsburg (see
Bohemia). The Reformation at first made rapid progress
in Silesia, and the native dukes placed little opposition
in its way. The Hapsburg princes, however, acted very
differently, and the Silesian Protestants suffered much
persecution before, during, and after the Thirty Years'
War. It was not indeed till the 18th century that they
acquired formal recognition and the restoration of some of
their confiscated churches.
The First Silesian "War between Austria and Prussia,
■which broke out in 1740, had its ultimate cause (nomin-
ally at least) in a compact of mutual succession entered
into in 1537 by the elector of Brandenburg on the one
side and the duke of Liegnitz on the other. The emperor,
as feudal superior of the duke, had indeed refused to
recognize this agreement, but the Great Elector did not
fail to put in his claim on the death of the last duke in
\ 1675, and Frederick now thought the opportunity too
good to be lost. The progress of the three Silesian wars
is recounted in the article Austria (vol. iii. p. 127-129).
At the peace of Hubertusburg (1763) Prussia was left in
possession of nearly the whole of Silesia, with the frontier
as it still exists. Frederick exerted himself to atone for
the evils brought upon the district through the ravages of
war by introducing colonists and capital, reforming the
adminiatration, granting complete religious liberty, and
the like. That this seed did not tall on ungrateful soil
seems proved by the modern prosperity of Silesia and the
loyalty with which its inhabitants have clung to the
Prussian cause. Silesia formed part of the reduced king-
dom of Prussia left by the peace of Tilsit in 1806, and it
was the centre of the national rising of 1813, when the
king issued his celebrated address " To my People " from
Breslau. Stein's emancipating edict of 1807 was wel-
comed with profound satisfaction in Sijesia, where the
conditions of serfdom had been particularly oppressive,
and no doubt contributed materially to the enthusiasm
with which the Silesians flocked to the. standard a few
years later.i
Prussian Silesia, the largest province of Prussia (see vol. xi.
plate I.), with an area of 15,560 square miles, forms the south-
eastern limb of the kingdom, and is bounded by Brandenburg,
Posen, Russian Poland, Galicia, Austrian Silesia, Moravia, Bohemia,
and the kingdom and province of Saxony. Besides the bulk of tho
old duchy of Silesia, it comprises the countship of Glatz, a frag-
ment of the Neumark, and part of Upper Lusatia, taken from
Saxony in 1815. The province is divided into three governmental
districts, — Liegnitz and Breslau corresponding to lower Silesia,
while Oppein takes in the greater part of upper, southern, or
mountainous Silesia.
Physiographioally' Silesia is rouglily divided into a flat and a
hilly portion by the so-called Silesian Langenthal, which begins
on the south-east near the Malapane, and extends across tho pro-
vince id a west-by-north direction to the Black Elster, following
in part the valley of the Oder. The south-east part of the province,
to the east of tho Oder and south of the Malapane, consists of a
hilly outpost of the Carpathians (the Tarnowitz plateau), with a
mean elevation of about 1000 feet. To the west of the Oder the
land rises gradually from the Langenthal towards the southern
boundary of the province, which is formed by the central part of
the Sndetic system, including the Glatz Mountains and the Rie-
sengebirge (Schneekoppe, 6266 feet). Among the loftier elevations
in advance of this southern barrier the most conspicuous is tho
Zobten (2215 feet), the historical connexion of which with thii
name of the province has been mentioned above. To the iiortli
and north-east of the Oder the province belongs almost entirely to
the great North-German plain, though a hilly ridge, rarely attain-
ing a height of 1000 feet, raay bo traced from east to west, assert-
ing itself most definitely in the Katzengebirge. Nearly the whohi
of Silesia lies within the basin of the Oder, which flows through it
from south-east to north-west, dividing the province into two
approximately equal parts. The Vistula touches the province on
the south-east, and receives a few small tributaries from it, whUe
On tho west tho Spree and Black Elster belong to the system of
the Elbe. The Iser rises among the mountains on the south.
Among the chief feeders of the Oder are-the Malapane (right), the
Glatzer Neisse (left), the Katzbach (left), and the Bartsch (right) ;
the Bober and Queiss flow through Silesia but join the Oder beyond
the frontier. The only lake of any extent is the Schlawa See, 7
miles long, on the north frontier. There' is a considerable differenco
in the climate of Lower and Upper Silesia, and some of the villages
in the Riesengebirge have the lowest mean temperature of any
inhabited place in Prussia (below 40° Fahr. ).
Of the total area of the province 56 per cent, is occupied by
arable land, lO'S per cent, by pasture and meadow, and nearly 29
per cent, by forests. The soil along the foot of the mountains is
generally good, and the district between Ratibor and Liegnitz,
where 70 to 80 per cent, of the surface is under the plough, is
reckoned one of the most fertile in Germany. The parts of lower
Silesia adjoining Brandenburg, and also the district to the east of
the Oder, are sandy and comparatively unproductive. The difi'erent
cereals are all grown with success, wheat and rye sometimes in
quantity enough for exportation. Flax is stiU a frequent crop in
the hilly districts, and more sugar-beets are raised in Silesia than
in any other Prussian province except Saxony. Tobacco, oil-seeds,
chicory, and hops may also he specified, while a little wine, of an
inferior quality is produced near Griinberg. Mulberry trees for
the silk-cultura have been introduced and thrive fairly. Lar^e
estates are the rule in Silesia, where 35 per cent, of the land is in
the hands of owners possessing at least 250 acres, while properties
of 50,000 ;.o 100,000 acres are common. The districts of Oppein
and LiegiiTtz aresamong the most richly wooded parts of Prussia.
According to the live-stock census for 1883, Silesia contains
275,122 horses, 1,397,130 cows, 1,309,495 sheep, 518,612 pigs,
175,283 goats, and 128,828 bee-hives. The merino sheep was
introduced by Frederick the Great, and since then the Silesian
' Compare Griinhagen, Otxhiehte Schlesiens (Gotha, 1884 sg.).
An account of the poetical schools of Silesia is given uadcr ths
heading Gehmany (vol. x. pp. 530-1).
S I L — S I L
53
breed of sheep ha? been greatly improved. The woods and moun-
tains harbour largo quantities of game, such as red deer, roedeer,
wild boars, and hares, while an occasional wolf finds its way into
Ithe province from the Carpathians. The fishery includes salmon
in the Oder, trout in the mountain-streams, and carp in the small
lakes or ponds with which the province is sprinkled. Compare the
tables in Prussia (vol. x.v. p. 14).
The great wealth of Silesia, however, lies underground, m the
shape of large stores of coal and other minerals, and its mining
records go back to the 12th century. The coal-measures of Upper
Silesia, in the south-east part of the province, are among the most
extensive in continental Europe, and there is another large field
near Waldenburg. The annual 'output, ranging between twelve
acd fifteen millions of tons, valued. at nearly £3,000,000 sterling,
is etiual to more than a quarter of the entire yield of Germany.
The district of Oppeln also contains a great quantity of iron
(annual produce 750,000 to 800,000 tons, value about £1,000,000).
The deposits of zinc in the vicinity of Beuthen are perhaps the
richest in the world, and produce four-fifths of the zinc of Germany
(550,000 tons). The remaining; mineral products include lead
(from which a considerable quantity of silver is extracted), copper,
cobalt, arsenic, the rare metal cadmium, alum, brown coal, marble,
and a few of the commoner precious stones (jaspers, agates, ame-
thysts, &c.). The province contains practically no salt or brine
springs, but there are well-known mineral springs at AVarmbrunn,
Salzbrunn, and several other places.
A busy manufacturing activity ha-s long been united w-ith the
underground industries of Silesia, and the province in this respect
yields the palm to no other part of Prussia except districts in the
Rhineland and Westphalia. On the plateau of Tarnowitz the
working and smelting of metals is naturally the predominant
industry, and in the neighbourhood of Beuthen, Kbnigshiitte, and
Glciwitz there seems an almost endless succession of iron-works,
zinc-foundries, machine-shops, and the like. In 1881 the total
value of the metals produced in the various foundries of the pro-
vince was £2,376,250. At the foot of the Riescngebirgc, and along
the southern mountain line generally, the textile industries pre-
vail. Weaving has been practised in Silesia, on a large scale, since
the 14th century ; and Silesian linen still maintains its reputation,
though the conditions of production have greatly changed. Cotton
and woollen goods of all kinds are also made in large quantities,
and among the other industrial products are beetroot sugar
(157,000 tons in 1883-84), spirits, chemicals, tobacco, starch, paper,
pottery, and "Bohemian glass." Lace, somewhat resembling that
of Brussels, is made by the women of the mountainous districts.
The trade of Silesia is scarcely so extensive as might be expected
from its important industrial activity. On the east it is hampered
by the stringent regulations of the Russian frontier, and the great
waterway of the Oder is sometimes too low in summer for naviga-
tion. The extension of the railway system has, however, had its
usual effect in fostering commerce, and the mineral and manufac-
tured products of the province arc freely exported.
At the census of 1880 the population of Silesia was 4,007,925, of
whom 2,082,084 were Roman Catholics, 1,867,489 Protestants,
and 52,682 Jews. About 35 per cent, of the population is urban
and 65 per cent, rural. The density is 257 per square mile, less
than that of Westphalia (262) and the Rhineland (390) ; but the
average is of course very greatly exceeded in the industrial
districts, such as Beuthen. The occupation census of 1883 shows
that 44 per cent, of the population are supported by agriculture,
36 per cent, by industries, 8-4 per cent, by trade, and 2-2 per cent,
by daily labour and domestic service, while 4 per cent, belong to
the official and 5 per cent, to the unemployed classes. Nearly
three-fourths of the inhabitants and territory are German, but to
the east of the Oder the Poles (nearly 1,000,000) form the bulk of
the population, while there are about 50,000 Czechs in the south
part of the province and 30,000 Wends near Liegnitz. The Roman
Catholics, most of whom are under the ecclesiastical sway of the
prince-bishop of Breslau, are predominant in Upper Silesia and
Glatz ; the Protestants prevail in Lower Silesia, to the west of the
Oder, and in Lusatia. The noblesse is very numerous in Silesia,
chiefly in consequenco of tho Polish districts it includes. The
educational institutions of the province aro headed by tho univer-
sity of Breslau. In 1883-81 the pcrcentajje of illiterate recruits,
in spite of the large Polish-speaking contingent, was only r70.
The capital and seat of tho provincial diet is Breslau, which
is also by far tho largest and most important town (298,893
inhabitants in 1885). Tho towns next in point of size are Gbrlitz
(55,120 inhabitants), Liegnitz (43,351), Konigshiitto (31,831),
Beuthen (26,478), Schwoidnitz (23,775), Neisse (21,444), and
Glog.au (20,003). The province fiends thirty-five members to the
reichstag and sixty-fivo to tho Prussian chamber of deputip.s.
Tho govrnment divisions of Breslau and Oppeln together form
tho district of the 6th army corps (seat, Breslau), while Liegnitz
belongs to that of tho 6th army corps, the headquarters of which
aro at Posen. Glogau, Glatz, Neisse, and Coscl aro fortresses.
Austrian Silesia, tho part of tho duchy that rumainod to
Austria after the Seven Years' War, is a mere fraction of ths
whole, its area being only 1980 square miles, or about one-eighth
of that of Prussian Sileaa. It falls into two small portions ol
territory, separated by a projecting limb of Jloravia and sur'
rounded by Prussian Silesia, Moravia, Hungary, and Galicia.
Until 1849 it was for administrative purposes reckoned a part ol
Moravia, but since that year it has been a crownland of the
Austrian empire (the smallest of all),' with the stylo of duchy.
The Troppau or western division of the crownland is flanked by
the Sudetic Mountains (Altvater, 4678 feet), and the Teschen o5
eastern half by the Carpathians (Lissahorn, 4330 feet), and a great
proportion of the surface is occupied by offshoots of these ranges.
The 'Vistula rises on tho Carpathians, within Austrian Silesia,
while the western part of the crownland is close to the headwatoi'S
of the Oder, which rises near at hand in Moravia. Owing to its
mountainous character and its slope towards the north and north-
east the crownland has a somewhat severe climate for its latitude,
the mean temperature being only 60° Fahr., while the annual
rainfall varies from 20 to 30 inches. Upwards of 45 per cent, ot
the surface is occupied by arable land, 74 per cent, by meadow^
and gardens, 10.i per cent, by pastures, and 32 per cent, by forests,
while 4i per cent, is unproductive ground. The soil cannot as a
rule be termed rich, though some of the valleys are fertile. The
chief crops are oats, rye, barley, potatoes, clover, and flax. Dairy-
farming is carried on in the mountains after the Alpine fashion,
and sheep are fairly numerous. Geese and pigeons are reared iii
great quantities, and tho hunting and fishing aro both very prolilicj
The principal mineral resources are coal (Silesia producing 13 pci-
cent, of the produce of Austria-Hungary), iron, marble, and slate.
Like its Prussian neighbour, the crownland boasts a very busy
industrial activity, the chief products of which aro its iron and steel
goods, textile fabrics (linen, woollen, cotton, velvet, silk), chemicals,
liqueurs, and beetroot sugar. The trade is chiefly a transit one,
though the manufactures and agricultural produce of the provinco
are exported in considerable quantity. Troppau, the capital of
the duchy, contains large cloth manufactories, while Teschon,
Bielitz, and J.agerndorf are also busy places. The populatiou iu
1885 was 577,593, of whom 81,000 were Protestants and 9000
Jews. About 48 per cent, of the population is supported by
agriculture and 27 '5 per cent, by industry. Divided according to
nationalities, there are 275,000 Germans, 130,000 Czechs, and
158,000 Poles. The German element is predominant in the towns,
the Polish in the eastern or Teschen division. The duchy sends
ten members to the Austrian house of representatives and has a
pro\iucial diet of thirty-one members. (J. F. M.)
SILICA, the only known oxide of silicon (sec
Chemistry, vol. v. pp. 521-524), occurs native in a great
variety of forms, -nliich, however, correspond to only tho
four distinct species of Quaetz (q.v.; see also Miner-
alogy, vol. xvi. p. 389), tridymite, Opal (q.v., and compare
vol. xvi. p. 390), and siliceous earth. Ordinary ([uartz-
rock and sand are more impure forms of quartz. Tridymite
differs from quartz only by a lower specific gravity, and in
crystallometric details ; the crystals arc as a rule arranged
in triplets — hence the name (see vol. xvi. p. 389). 8ili ,
ceous earth when dry forms a very voluminous, soft,
fine powder; it consists of the shells of Infusoria. As
a chemical species it differs little from opal. Siliceous
earth, having a very low rate of thermal conductivity,
serves well as a stutting for tho hollow walls of ice-chests,
fire-proof safes, &c. It is used besides for the making of
Dynamite (q.v.). Silica of any kind is absolutely non-
volatile, and is fusible only at the temperature of the oxy-
hydrogcn flame ; a slight admixture of base (potash, lime,
&.C.), however, suffices to cause it to "frit" at a red heat.
It is absolutely proof against the action of water and
ordinary mineral acids; hydroiluoric acid acts on it ener-
getically, as explained in Chemistry, vol. v. p. 522.
Alkaline 5'i/i'ai<«».— Silica readily dissolves at a red heat in fused
alkaline carbonates, with evolution ot carbonic acid and formation
ot alkaline silicates. In this process one molecule SiO, of silica
is capable of decomposing at most 2R..0C0; (where R~K or Na).J
The compound Si0,.2R,0, " orthosilicato " of alkali, freezes into a
compact nontransparont mass, readily soluble in water, witli
formation of an intensely alkaline solution. It docs not miito
with any additional alkali, but readily fuses up with more silica.|
Without going beyond a red heat it is cosy to produce tliuj^
homogeneous masses of any composition, Na,0.xSiO, from x-4
up to *— (at least) i. , i 1
Compounds approximating to x-4 aro known as tvatrr yto'.]
Potash water gloss, K,0.4SiOj, was discovered in 1826 by Fuchs in
54
S I L — S I L
Munich, who noticed all its practically important properties and
saw their significance. Water glass when in compact pieces looks
likd ordinary glass, and is not at all obviously attacked by cold
water. But when the powdered substance is boiled with water it
dissolves, and the solution can bo boiled down to the consistence
of a syrup without anything separating out even in the cold.
Such water-glass syrup, when applieil as a coating to wood,
pasteboard, &c., dries up into a colierent varnish wliich renders
the object non-inflammable, because in the heat of a fire tlie coat-
ing melts into a continuous viscid covering which prohibits access
of oxygen to the interior. The early application of water glass
to tlie scenery of the Munich court theatre explains its long
immunity from destructive fires. When mixed with powdered
chalk, niagnesite, phosphate of lime, and many other similar mate-
rials, it gradually unites with these into hard stone-like masses.
Caustic lime and magnesia (MgO) thus unite with it witli ex-
ceptional promptitude, with elimination of alkali. Water gbss,
in short, is to the class of mineral substances referred to what
ordinary glue is to wood and pajicr, &c., and it is used largely
for analogous purposes. Fuchs himself based upon this property
of his preparation a new process of wall painting which was sub-
sequently developed and brought to great perfection by Kaulbach
and others. In ibis process of " stereochrouiy," as it is called, the
more immediate basis for the painting consists of a thin layer of a
kind of cement made up of powdered marble, dolomite, quartz,
and air-worn quicklime with water glass. Ou it the colours are
laid with plaiu water, which causes them to stick on, but quite
loosely, so that the artist can work at leisure and correct mistakes.
The finished painting is fixed by applying to it a spray of water
glass solution, which, in the course of a few days makes it per-
fectly fast. All that then remains to be done is to wash the
painting with alcohol to remove the eliminated alkali and any
dust that may have collected. A stereochromic painting (unlike
one made by the old fresco process) is practically proof against
atmospheric influences, even under a northern climate. lu a
water-glass solution the alkali is, so to .say, only half combined with
the silica ; part of it in fact must be presumed to be present in the
free state. At any rate the solution emulsionizes fats, and therefore
is a cleansing agent in the same seu.se as soap-solution is. Water
glass and other alkaline silicates are accordingly used as additions
to some of the cheaper kinds of soap.
SILISTRIA, or Silistr.\, a fortified town on the south
side of tbe Danube, 75 miles below Rustchuk, and
150 miles from tbe mouth of the river, is now at the head
of a district in the principality of Bulgaria. In 1881 the
population was 10,657.
Silistria is the Durostorum of the Romans, the Dnrostolos of
the Byzantines, the Drstr of the Bulgarians. It was one of the
most important towns of the Roman province of Mcesia Inferior,
successively the headquarters of the legio I. Italica and the legio
XI. Claudia. It was defended by the Bulgarian czar Simeon against
the Hungarians (893). Captured by Svyatoslafl", theVaringian called
to the assistance of the emperor Nicephc-us (967), it was subse-
quently .recovered 'by the Bulgarians after a three mouths' heroic
defence. Under the Turks, whose rule began in the latter part
of the 14th. century, Silistria continued to flourish : Hajji^Khalfa
describes it as the most important of all the Danubian towns.
It was the seat of a Greek metropolitan with five bishops under
him ; and a settlement of Ragusan merchr.nts kept alive its com-
mercial interests. The Russians, who captured Silistria in ISIO,
destroyed its fortifications before they withdrew ; but they were
rebuilt by foreign engineers, and in 1828-9 were strong enough to
ofi'er a serious resistance to the Russians, who lost 3000 men. At
that date the population, including the garrison, was 24,000, but
in 1837 it was only about 4000. In 1854 the town was successfully
defended by General Krach against the Russians till the arrival of
the Austrians in the peninsula. It was again invested by the
Russians iu 1877, and on the conclusion of peace was evacuated by
the Turks.
SILIUS ITALICUS, a Latin epic poet, was born in 25
and died in 101 'a. D. His birthplace is uriknown. From
his cognomen Italicus the conclusion has been drawn that
^e came from the town of Italica in Spain ; but Latin
usage would in that case have demanded the form Itali-
eeisis, and it is highly improbable that Martial would have
lailed to name ftm among the literary celebrities of Spain
in the latter half of the 1st century. The conjecture that
Silius was from Italica, the capital of the Italian confedera-
tion during the Social War, is open to still stronger
objection. Most likely some ancestor of the poet acquired
the title " Italicus " from having been a member of one of
.the corporations of " Italici " who are often mentioned
in inscriptions from Sicily and elsewhere. In early life
Silius was a renowned forensic orator, later a safe and
cautious politician, without ability or ambition enough to
be legitimately obno.xious to the cruel rulers under whom he
lived. But mediocrity was hardly an efficient protection
against the murderous whims of Nero, and Silius was
generally believed to have secured at once his own safety
and his promotion to the consulship by putting his
oratorical powers to discreditable use in the judicial farces
which often ushered in the doom of the emperor's victims.
He was consul in the year of Nero's death (69), andJ
is mentioned by Tacitus as having been one of two'
witnesses who were present at the conferences between
Vitellius and Flavius Sabinus, the elder brother of
Vespasian, when the legions from the East were-. marching
rapidly on the capital. The life of Silius after his con-
sulship^ is well depicted by the younger Pliny: — "He
conducted himself wisely and courteously as the friend of
the luxurious and cruel Vitellius ; he won repute by his
proconsulship of Asia, and obliterated by the praiseworthy
use he made of his leisure the stain he had incurred through
his active exertions in former days. In dignity and content-
ment, avoiding power and therefore hostility, he outlived
the Flavian dynasty, keeping to a private station after
his governorship of Asia." His poem contains only two
passages relating to the Flavians ; in both Domitian is
eulogized as a warrior ; in one he figures as a singer whose
lyre is sweeter than that of Orpheus himelf. Silius had
evidently little taste for bowing down in the house of
Rimmon, and refrained from using the many opportunities
which his epic afforded for humouring the vanity of the
imperial house. He was a great student and patron of
literature and art, and a passionate collector. Two great
Romans of the past, Cicero and Virgil, were by him
idealized and veritably worshipped; and he was the happy
possessor of their estates at Tusculum and Naples. The
later life of Silius was passed on the Campanian shore,
hard by the tomb of Virgil, at which he ofiered the
homage of a devotee. He closely emulated the lives of
his two great heroes : the one he followed in composing
epic verse, the other in debating philosophic questions
with his friends of . like tastes. Among these was
Epictetus, who judged him to be the most philosophic
spirit among the Romans of his time, and Cornutus, the
Stoic, rhetorician, and grammarian, who appropriately
dedicated to Siliua a commentary upon Virgil. Though
the verse of Silius is not wrapped in Stoic gloom like
that of Lucan, yet Stoicism lends in many places a not
ungraceful gravity to his poem. Silius was , one of the
numerous Romans of the early empire who had the courage
of their opinions, and carried into perfect practice the
theory of siucide adopted by their school. Stricken by an
incurable disease, he starved himself to death, keeping a
cheerful countenance to the end.
Whether Silius committed to writing his philosophic dialogues
or not, we cannot say. Chance has preserved to us his epic poem
entitled Punica, in seventeen books, and comprising some fourteen
thousand lines. The epics of Silius, Lucan, Statins, and Valerius
Flaccus are but a few waifs carried down to us by the wander-
ing stream of time from the vast mass of post-Virgilian 'epics.
Long before Silius bethought himself of his epic all possible
historical and mythological themes had been worn to tatters by
tliese poets. In choosing the Second Funic War for his subject,
Silius had, we know, many predecessors, as he doubtless had
many followers. From the time of Na;vius onwards every great
military struggle in which the Romans had been engaged had
found its poet over and over again. In justice to Silius and
Lucan, it should be observed that the mythologic poet had a far
easier task than the historic. In a well-known passage Petronius
Eointedly describes the diflSculties of the historic theme. A poet,
e said, who should take upon him the vast subject of the civil
wars would break down beneath the burden unless he were " full of
learning," since he would have not merelyto record facts, which
the historians did much better, but must possess an unshacklei
SILIUS ITALICUS
55
genius, to which full course must bo given by the use of digressions,
by bringing divine beings on to the stage, and by giving generally
a mythologic tinge to the subject. The Latin laws of the historic
epic were fixed by Ennius, and were still binding when Claudian
wiotc. They were never seriously infringed, except by Lucnn, who
substituted for the dei ex mruhina of his predecessors the vast, dim,
and imiiosing Stoic conception of destiny. By protracted applica-
tion, and being (to use the significant phrase of Petronius) 'full
of learning," Silius had acquired excellent recipes for every
ingredient that went to the in.iK-ing of the conventional historic
epic. Though he is not named by Quintilian, he is probably
liiuted at in the mention of a class of poets who, as the writer
says, " writo to show their learning." To seize the moments in
the history, however unimportant, which were capable of pic-
turesi[UO treatment ; to pass over all events, however important,
which could not readily be rendered into heroics ; to stulf out the
somewhat modern heroes to something like Homeric proportions ;
to subject all their movements to the passions and caprices of the
Olympians; to ransack the poetry of the past for incidents and similes
on which a slightly new face might be put ; to fpist in by well-worn
artifices episodes, however strange to the subject, taken from the
mythologic or histojic glories of Rome and Greece, — all this
Silius knew how to do, as he knew his own fingers and nails. Ho
ilid it all with the languid grace of the inveterate connoisseur, and
with a simplicity foreign to his tima, which sprang in part from
cultivated taste and hon-or of tlie venturesome word, and in part
from the subdued toue of a life which had come unscathed through
tho reigns of Caligula, Nero, and Doniitian. The more thread-
bare the theme, and the more worn the machinery, the greater tho
need of genius. Two of the most rigid requirements of the ancient
epic were abundant similes and abundant single combats. But all
the obvious resemblances between the actions of heroic man and
external nature had long been worked out, while for the renovation
of the single combat little could be ilone till the hero of the Homeric
typo was replaced by the mediaival knight. Silius, however, had
perfect poetic appreciation, with scarce a trace of poetic creativeness.
No writer has ever been more correctly and more uniformly judged
by contemporaries and by posterity alike. Only tho shameless
flatterer, Jlartial, ventured to call his friend a poet as great as
Virgil. But tho younger Pliny gently .says tfiat he wrote poems
witli greater diligence than talent, and that, when, according to tho
fashion of tlie time, ho recited them to his friends, "he sometimes
found out what men really thought of them." It is indeed strange
that the poem lived on. Silius is never mentioned by ancient
writers after Pliny except Sidonius, who, under different conditions
and at a much lower level, was such another as he. Since the
discovery of Silius by Poggio, no modern enthusiast has arisen to
sing his praises, and in the last sixty years ho has found no editor,
even for his text. Eighteenth-century editors, at a time when
moilern Silii were numerous in the field of literature and more
fashionable than they have been since, found in the Punka
passages not unworthy of comparison with the Hcnriadc, and
thought that Silius did not disgrace Virgil ; but even such gentle
commendation is not likely to be repeated again. Vet, by the
purity of his taste and his Latin in an ago when taste was fast
becoming vicious and Latin corrupt, by his presentation to us of a
type of a thousand vanished Latin epics, and by the historic
aspects of his subject, Silius merits better treatment from schol.ars
than he has received. The general reader he can hardly interest
again. He is inilecd of imitation all compact, and usually dilutes
what he borrows ; he may add a new beauty, but new strength he
never gives. Hardly a dozen lines anywhere are without an echo
of Virgil, and there are frequent admixtures of Lucretius, Horace,
Ovid, Lucan, Homer, Hcsiod, and many other poets still extant.
If wo could reconstitute the library of Silius wo should probably
find that scarcely an idea or a phrase in his entire work was wholly
his own.
Tho raw material of tho Ptmica was supplied in the main by
tho third decade of Livy, though Silius may have consulted other
historians of the Hannib.alic war. Such facts as are used aro
generally presented with their actual circumstances unchanged,
and in their historic sequence. The spirit of tho Punic times is
but rarely misconceived, — as when to secret voting is attributed
tho election of men like Flaniinius and Varro, and distinguished
Romans are depicted as contending in a gladiatorial exhibition.
Silius clearly intended the poem to consist of twenty-four book.s,
like tho Iliad and the Odyssey, but after tho twelfth ho hurries in
visible weariness to the end and concludes with seventeen. Tho
general jdnn of the ejiio follows that of tho Iliad and the iEneid.
Its thcnio is conceived as a duel between two mighty na'ions,
wrth psrallel dissensions among tho gods. Scipio and Hannibal
aro tho two great heroes who take tho ]ilacc of Achilles and Hector
ou tho ono band and of Mnma and Turnus on tho other, while
tho minor figures nro all painted with Virgilian or Homeric
pigments. In tho delineation of character our poet is neither
■very powerful nor very consistent. His imagination was too weak
*o realize tho actors with distinctucsii and individuality. His
Hannibal is evidently at the outset meant for an incarnation of
cruelty and treachery, the embodiment of all that tho vulgar
Roman attached to the name "Punic." But in the course of
the poem tho greatness of Hannibal is borne in upon the puet,
and his feeling of it betrays itself in many touches. Thus ho
names Scipio "tho great Hannibal of Ausonia"; he makes Juno
assure the Carth.aginian leader that if fortune had only permitted
him to be born a Roman ho would have been admitted to a
place among the gods ; and, when the ungenerous monster of tho
lirst book accords in the fifteenth a splendid burial to Marcellus,
the poet cries, " You would fancy it was a Sidonian -chief who
had fallen." Silius deserves little pity for tho failure of his
attempt to make Scipio an equipoise to Hannibal and the coun-
terpart in personal prowess and prestige of Achilles. He becomes
in the process almost as mythical a figure as the mediteval
Alexander. The best drawn of the minor characters are Fabius
Cunetator, an evident copy of Lucan's Cato, and Paullus, tho
consul killed at Canna;, who fights, hates, and dies like a genuino
man.
Clearly it was a matter of religion with Silius to repeat and
adapt all the striking episodes of Homer and Virgil. Hannibal
must have a shield of marvellous workmanship like Achilles and
vEneas ; because ./Eneas descended into Hades and had a vision of
the future history of Rome, so must Scipio have his revelation
from heaven ; Trebia, choked with bodies, must rise in ire like
Xanthus, and be put to flight by Vulcan ; for Virgil's Camilla
there must be an Asbyte, heroiue of Saguntum ; the beautiful
speech of Euryalus when Nisus seeks to leave him is too good to
be thrown away, — furbished up a little, it will serve as a parting
address from Imilce to her husband Hannibal. The descriptions
of the numerous battles are made up in the main, according to
epic rule, of single combats — wearisome sometimes in Homer,
wearisome oftener in Virgil, painfully wearisome in Silius. The
different component parts of the poem are on the whole fairly
well knit together, and the transitions are not often needlessly
abrupt ; yet occisionally incidents and episodes are introduced
with all the irrelevancy of the modern novel. A son of Regulus
escapes from Thrasymene to a hut, merely to find there an old
servant of his father, and to afford him the opportunity of telling
over again the tale of tlie first war against the Carthaginians. To
give scope for a eulogy of Cicero, an ancestor of his fights at
Cannre, and strong devices sometimes usher in such stories as the
judgment of Paris and the choice of Hercules. The interposition
of the gods is, however, usually managed with dignity and appro-
priateness.
As to diction and detail, we miss, in general, power rather than
taste. The metre runs on with correct smooth monotony, with
something always of the Virgilian sweetness, though attenuated,
but nothing of tho Virgilian variety and strength. The dead level
of literary execution is seldom broken by a rise into the region of
genuine pathos and beauty, or by a descent into the ludicrous or
the repellent. There are few absurdities, but the restraining force
is trained perception and not a native sense of humour, which,
ever present in Homer, not entirely absent in Virgil, and some-
times finding grim expression in Lucan, fails Silius entirely. Tho
address of Anna, Dido s sister, to Juno compels a smile. Though
deified on her sister's death, and for a good many centuries already
.an inhabitant of heaven, Anna meets Juno for tho first time on tho
outbreak of the Second Punic War, and deprecates tho anger of tho
queen of heaven for having deserted tho Carthaginians and attached
herself to the Roman cause. Hannibal's parting address to his
child is also comical : he recognizes in the heavy wailing" of tho
year-old babe " the seeds of rages like his own." But Silius might
have been forgiven for a thousand more weaknesses than ho lias
if in but a few things ho had shown strength. Tho grandest
scenes in the history before him fail to lift him up ; his treatment,
for example, of Hannibal's Alpine passage falls immensely below
Lucan's vigorous delineation of Cato s far less stirring march across
tho African deserts.
But in the very weaknesses of Silius we may discern merit He
at least does not try to conceal defects of substance by contorted
rhetorical conceits and feebly forcible exaggerations. In his ideal
of what Latin expression should bo he comes near to his con-
temporary Quintilian, and resolutely holds aloof from tho tenor
of his age. Perhaps his want of success with tho men of his timo
was not wholly due to his faults. His self-control rarely fails
him ; it stands the test of tho honors of war, and of Venus
working her will on Hannibal at Capua. Tho reader of Statins
and even Propcrlius will be thankful for tho rarity of recondite
epithets, such as " Ulioatcan destiny," "Garamantian standards,"
"Lagean river," " Smyrna'an strings." Only n few passages hero
and thcro betray the true silver Latin extravagance, as when
Hannibal is compared for speed to a tigress reft of her cubs,
which darts forth and in a few hoKis traverees the Caucasus, and
with a " wingcil " leap flies across the Oangct ; or when the Ciirtlm-
ginians after Capua launch their spears but aro too enervated
to inakc them tvhiz; or when tho plaguo-stricken and famin*-
66
S I L-S I L
wasted men of Syracuse hide their diminished faces far within
their helmets, and carefully shade their pallor lest hope should
arise for the enemy. In the avoidance of rhetorical artifice and
epigrammatic antithesis Silius stands in marked contrast to Lucan.
Yet he can be pointed; so of Fabius, " laudum cladumquo quieta
Mente capax"; and of Scaivola, "Aspera semper amans et par
cuicumque pcriclo"; and of Africa, " Altrix bellorum bellatoruraque
virorum TcUus, nee fidens nudo sine fraudibus ensi." Looking at
Silius merely as a poet he may not deserve high praise ; but, as he
is a unique specimen and probably the best of a once numerous
class, the pre^ewaHon of his poem among the remains of Latin
literature is a fortunate accident.
The poet's full name, Ti. Catius Siliua Italicus, Is preserved In an Inscription
(C. /. L., vi. 1DB4). The poem was discovered in a SIS., possibly at Constance, by
Poggio, in 1416 or 1417 ; from Ihis now lost MS. all existing JISS., which belonc
entirely to the 16th century, are derived. A valuable M.S. of the 8th or 9tl»
century, found at Cologne by L. Carrion in the latter part of the IGth century
disappeared soon after its discovery. Two edilicnes principes appeared at Home
in 1471 ; the piincipal editions since have been those of Heinsiua (1600), Draken-
borcli (1717). and Erntsti (Leipsic, 1791). A useful variorum edition is that ot
Lcmaire (Paris, lS2o). The recent lucuhratioms on Silius arc mostly Bmal>
pamphlets, enumerated by Engelmann iUibl. Script, Class. ^ 1878). (J. S. It.)
SILK
SILK is a fibrous substance produced by nlany insects,
principally in the form of a cocoon or covering within
which the creatures are enclosed and protected during the
period of their principal transformatjons. The webs and
nests, &c., formed by spiders are also of silk. But the
fibres used for manufacturing purposes are exclusively pro-
duced by the mulberry silk-moth of China, Bomhyx mori,
and a few other moths closely allied to that insect (see
vol. iv. p. 596). • Among the Chinese the name of the silk-
worm is "si," Corcan "soi"; to the ancient Greeks it
became known as crr;p, the nation whence it came was to
them Sijpcs, and the fibre itself crtjpiKov, whence the Latin
sericum, the French sole, the German Seide, and the Eng-
lish silk.
The silk industry originated in China ; and according
to native records it has existed there from a very remote
period. The empress Se-ling-she, wife of a famous
emperor, Hwang-te (2640 B.C.), encouraged the cultivation
of the mulberry tree, the rearing of the worms, and the
reeling of silk. This empress is said to have devoted
herself personally to the care of silkworms, and she is by
the Chinese credited with the invention of the loom. A
voluminous ancient literature testifies ■ not only to the
antiquity but also to the importance of Chinese sericulture,
and to the care and attention bestowed on it by royal and
noble families. The Chinese guarded the secrets of their
valuable art with vigilant jealousy ; and there is no doubt
that many centuries passed before the culture spread be-
yond the country of its origin. Through Corea a know-
ledge of the silkworm and its produce reached Japan,
but not before the early part of the 3d century. One of
the most ancient books of Japanese history, the Nihongi,
states that towards 300 a.d. some Coreans were sent from
Japan to China to engage competent people to teach the
arts of weaving and preparing silk goods. They brought
with them four Chinese girls, who instructed the court and
th« people in the art of plain and figured weaving ; and
to the honour of these pioneer silk weavers a temple was
erected in the province of Setsu. Great efforts were made
to encourage the industry, which from that period grew into
one of national importance. At a period probably little
later a knowledge of the working of silk travelled west-
ward, and the cultivation of the silkworm was established
in India. According to a tradition the eggs of the insect
and the seed of the mulberry tree were carried to India by
a Chinese princess concealed in the lining of her headdress.
The fact that sericulture was in India first established in
the valley of the Brahmaputra and in the tract lying
between that river and the Ganges renders it probable
that it was introduced overland from the Chinese empire.
From the Ganges valley the silkworm was slowly carried
westward and spread in Khotan, Persia, and the states of
Central Asia.
Most critics recognize in the obscure word dnieaheh,
Amos iii. 12, a name of silk correspinding to the Arabic
dimaks, late Greek /xfra^a, English damask, and also follow
the ancients in understanding mesM, Ezek. xvi. 10, 13, of
" silken gauze." But the first notice of the silkworm in
Western literature occurs in Aristotle, Eist Anim., v. 19 ,
(17), 11 (6), where he speaks of "a great worm which
has horns and so differs from others. At its first meta-
morphosis it produces a caterpillar, then a bombylius^
and lastly a chrysalis, — all these changes taking placa
within six months. From this animal women separate
and reel off the cocoons and afterwards spin them. It
is said that this was first spun in the island of Cos by
Pamphile, daughter of Plates." Aristotle's vagne know-
ledge of the worm may have been derived from informa-
tion acquired by the Greeks with Alexander the Great ;
but long before this time raw silk must have begun to
be imported at Cos, where it was woven into a gauzy
tissue, the famous Coa vestis, which revealed rather thao
clothed the form.
Towards the beginning of the Christian era raw silk
began to form an important and costly item among the
prized products of the East which came to Rome. Allu-
sions to silk and its source became common in classical
literature ; but, although these references show familiarity
with the material, they are singularly vague and inaccurate
as to its source ; even Pliny knew nothing more about the
silkworm than could be learned from Aristotle's description.
The silken textures which at first found their way to Rome
were necessarily of enormous cost, and their use by men
was deemed a piece of effeminate luxury. From an anec-
dote of Aurelian, who neither used silk himself nor would
allow his wife to possess a single silken garment, we learo
that silk was worth its weight in gold.
Notwithstanding its price and the restraints otherwise
put on the use of silk the trade grow. Under Justinian
a monopoly of the trade and manufacture was reserved to
the emperor, and looms, worked by women, were set up
within the imperial palace at Constantinople. Justinian
also endeavoured, through the Christian prince of Abys-
sinia, to divert the trade from the Persian route along
which silk was then brought into the east of Europe. In
this he failed, but two Persian monks who had long resided
in China, and there learned the whole art and mystery of
silkworm rearing, arrived at Constantinople and imparted
their knowledge to the emperor. By him they were
induced to return to China and attempt to bring to
Europe the material necessary for the cultivation of silk,
which they effected by concealing the eggs of the silkworm
in a hollow cane. From the precious contents of that
bamboo tube, brought to Constantinople about the year
550, were produced all the races and varieties of silkworm
which stocked the Western world, and which gave trade,
prosperity, and untold wealth to great communities for
more than twelve hundred years. The necessity for again
going to the East for a supply of silkworm eggs has only
arisen in our own day.
Under the care of the Greeks the silkworm took kindly
t3 its Western home and flourished, and the silken
textures of Byzantium became famous. At a later period
the conquering Saracens obtained a mastery over the
trade, and by them it was spread both east and west, —
the textures becoming meantime impressed with tha
SILK
57
Jjat'irns and colours peculiar to that people. They
established the trade in the thriving towns of Asia Minor,
and they planted it as far west as Sicily, as Sicilian silks
•of the 12th century Vith Saracenic patterns still testify.
Orderifius Vitalis, who died in the first half of the
12th century, mentions that the bishop of St Evroul, in
Normandy, brought with him from Apulia in southern
Italy several large pieces of silk, out of the finest of which
four copes were made for his cathedral chanters. The
cultivation and manufacture spread northwards to Florence,
Jlilan, Genoa, and Venice — all towns which became famous
for silken textures in niedia;val times. In 1480 silk
weaving was begun under Louis XI. at Tours, and in 1520
Francis I. brought from Milan silkworm eggs, which were
reared in the Khone valley. About the beginning of the
17th ceutury Olivier de Serres and Laff^mas, somewhat
against the will of Sully, obtained royal edicts favouring
the growth of mulberry plantations and the cultivation of
silk ; but it cannot be said that these industries were
firmly established till Colbert encouraged the planting
of the mulberry by premiums, and otherwise stimulated
local efforts.
Into England silk manufacture was introduced during
the reign of Henry VI. ; but the first serious impulse to
manufactures of that class was due to the immigration in
1585 of a large body of skilled Flemish weavers who fled
from the Low Countries in consequence of the struggle
with Spain then devastating their land. Precisely one
hundred years later religious troubles again gave the
second and most effective impetus to the silk-trade of
England, when the revocation of the edict of Nantes sent
simultaneously to Switzerland, Germany, and England a
vast body of the most skilled artisans of France, who
planted in these countries silk-weaving colonies which are
to this day the principal rivals of the French manufac-
turer-s. The bulk of the French Protestant -weavers
settled at Spitalfields, London, — aii incorporation of silk
throwsters having been there formed in 1629. James I.
used many efforts to encourage the planting of the
mulberry and the rearing of silkworms both at home and
in the colonies. In 1825 a public company was formed
and incorporated under the name of the British, Irish,
and Colonial Silk Company, with a capital of ■£1,000,000,
principally with the view of introducing sericulture into
Ireland, but it was a complete failure, and the rearing of
the silkworm cannot bo said ever to have become a branch
of British industry.
In 1522 Cortes appointed officials to introduce sericul-
ture into New Spain (Mexico), and mulberry trees were
then planted and eggs were brought from Spain. The
Mexican adventure is mentioned by Acosta, but all trace
■of the culture had died out before the end of the century.
In 1609 James I. attempted to reinstate the silkworm on
the American continent, but his first effort failed through
shipwreck. An effort made in 1619 obtained greater
success, and, the materials being present, the Virginian
jcttlers were strongly urged to devote attention to the
profitable industry of silk cultivation. Sericulture was
enjoined under penalties by statute ; it was encouraged by
bounties and rewards ; and its prosecution was stimulated
by learned essays and rhapsodical rhymes, of which this is
a sample : —
Where Wornics and Food doo naturally nboiind
A gallant Silken Trade must there be found.
Virginia excels tlio World in both —
Envio nor malice can gainosny this troth I
In the prospectus of Law's great Compagnie des Indes
Occidentals the cultivation of silk occupies a place among
the glowing attractions which allured so many to disaster.
Onward till the period nf the War of Independence
■j-J i*
bounties and other rewards for the rearing of worms and
silk filature continued to be offered; and just wlien the
war broke out Benjamin Franklin and others were engaged
in nursing a filature into healthy life at Philadelphia.
With the resumption of peaceful enterprise, the stimulus of
bounties was again applied — first by Connecticut in 1783 ;
and such efforts have been continued sporadically down
almost to the present day. Bounties were last offered by
the State of California in 1865-GG, but the State law was
soou repealed, and an attempt to obtain State pncourage-
ment again in 1872 was defeated. About IRtjS a specu-
lative mania for the cultivation of silk developed itself
with remarkable severity in the United States. It was
caused principally through the representations of Samuel
\Vhitniarsh as to the capabilities of the South Sea
Islands mulberry (Moms midtkaulis) for feeding silkworms;
and so intense was the excitement that plants and crops
of all kinds were displaced to make room for plantations
of imdticmdis. In Pennsylvania as much as §300,000
changed hands for plants in one week, and frequently the
young trees were sold two and three times over within
a few days at ever-advancing prices. Plants of a single
year's growth reached the ridiculous price of §1 each at
the height of the fever, which, however, did not last long,
for in 1839 the siieculation collapsed; the famous i/&n<j
multicaulis was found to be no golden tree and the costly
plantations were uprooted.
The most singular feature in connexion with the historj
of silk is the persistent efforts which have been made by
nionarchs and other potentates to stimulate sericulture
within their dominions, efforts which continue to this day
in British colonies, India, and America. These endeavours
to stimulate by artificial means have in scarcely any
instance resulted in permanent success. In truth raw silk
can only be profitably brought to the market where there
is abundant and very cheap labour, — the fact that China,
Japan, Bengal, Piedmont, and the Levant are the rrincipaj
producing localities making that plain.
The Silkworm.
The mulberry-feeding moth, Bombyx mori, which is the
principal source of silk, belongs to the Bombycidie, a familj
of Lepidoptera in which
are embraced some of the
largest and most hand-
some moths (see vol. iv.
p 596). B. mori is itself
an inconspicuous moth
(figs. 1 and 2) of anr ashy
white colour, with a body
in the case of the male
not half an inch in length,
the female being a little
longer and stouter. Its wings are short and weak ; the
fore pair are falcate, and the hind pair do not reach to the
end of the body. The
larva (fig. 3) is hair-
less, of an ashy grey or
cream colour, attains
to a length of from 3
to 3i inches, and is
slender in com[iarison
with many of its allies.
The second thoracic
ring is humped, and
there is a spineliko
horn or protuberance
at the tail. The
Fio. 1. — Bombyx mori (male).
2.—Bomh)T mori (fcinilo).
common silkworm produces as a rule only one pcncration
during the year ; but there are racc.i in cultivation which
58
SILK
are bivoltine, or two-generationed, and some are multi-
voltine. Its natural food is the leaves of mulberry trees.
The silk glands or vessels consist of two long thick-walled
sacs running along the sides of the body,
which open by a common orifice — the
spinneret or seripositor — on the under lip
of the larva. Fig. 4 represents the head {a)
and feet (6, b) of the common silkworm,
while c is a dia-
grammatic view
of the silk glands.
As the larva ap-
proaches maturity
these vessels be- ^-^-^^—^—^^————^—^-^
1 •.! Fig. 3, — L^rva oi Bonibyx mori.
come gorged with
a clear viscous fluid, which, upon being exposed to the air
immediately hardens to a solid mass. Advantage is taken
b
Fig. 4.
^^ar
of this peculiarity to prepare from fully-developed larvae
silkworm gut used for casting lines in rod-fishing, and
for numerous other purposes where lightness, tenacity,
flexibility, and strength are essential. The larvffi are
killed and hardened by steeping some hours in strong
acetic acid ; the silk glands are then separated from the
bodies, aud the viscous luid drawn out to the condition
of a fine uniform line, which is stretched between pins at
the extremity of a board. The board is then exposed to
the sunlight till the lines dry and harden into the
condition of gut. The preparation of gut is, however,
merely an unimportant collateral manufacture. When
the larva is fully mature, and ready to change into the
pupa condition, it proceeds to spin its cocoon, in which
operation it ejects from both glands simultaneously a line or
thread about 4000 yards in length, moving its head round
in regular order continuously for three days or thereby.
The thread so ejected
forms the silk of com-
merce, which as wound
in the cocoon consists of
two filaments — one from
each gland — laid side by
side and agglutinated
into one fibre (Fr. ban)
by their, own adhesive
constituents. Under the
microscope, therefore,
cocoon silk presents the
appearance (fig. 5) of a
somewhat flattened com-
bination of two filaments
placed side by side, being
on an average from '033 to -036 mm.Tsroad by -020 to '025
mm. in thickness. The cocoons are white or yellow in
ipolour, oviform in shape, with often a constriction in the
BJiddle (fig. 6). According to race, &c., they vary con-
Fig. 5. — Microscopic appearance of Sillc of
Bombyx mori.
siderably in size and weight, but on an average they measure
from an inch to an inch aud a half in length, and from half
an inch to an inch in diameter. They form
hard, firm, and compact shells with some
'straggling flossy filaments on the exterior,
and the interior layers are so closely and
densely agglutinated as to constitute a
parchment-like mass which resists all
attempts at unwinding. The whole cocoon
with its enclosed pupa weighs from 1 '•
grains for the smaller races to about 5'
grains for the breeds which spin large
cocoons. From two to three weeks after
the completion of the cocoon the enclosed
insect is ready to escape; it moistens one Fio. 6.-Cocoon oil
end of its self-made prison, thereby enabling "'" "^ """^ '
itself to push aside the fibres and make an opening by
which the perfect moth comes forth. The sexes almost
immediately couple ; the female in from four to six days lays
her eggs, numbering 500 and upwards ; and, with that the
life cycle of the moth being complete, both sexes soon die.
Sericulture.
The art of sericulture concerns itself with the rearing of
silkworms under artificial or domesticated conditions, their
feeding, the formation of cocoons, the securing of these
before they are injured and pierced by the moths, and the
maturing of a sufiicient number of moths to supply
eggs for the cultivation of the following year. The first
essential is a stock of mulberry trees adequate to feed the
worms iu their larval stage. The leaves preferred in
Europe are those of the white-fruited mulberry, Morus
alba, but there are numerous other species which appear to
be equally suitable. The soil in which the mulberry grows,
and the age and condition of the trees, are important
factors in the success of silkworm cultivation ; and it has
been too often proved that the mulberry will grow in
situations where, from t^e nature of the leaf the trees put
fortn and from other circumstances, silkworms cannot be
profitably reared. An elevated position with dry friable
weU-drained soil produces the best quality of leaves.
Throughout the East the species of mulberry cultivated
are numerous, but, as these trees have been grow-n for
special purposes at least for three thousand years, they
show the complex variations peculiar to most cultivated
plants.
The eggs of the silkworm, called graine, are hatched out
by artificial heat at the period when the mulberry leaves
are ready for the feeding of the larva;. These eggs are
very minute — about one hundred weighing a grain ; and a
vast number of hatched worms may at first be kept in a
small space ; but the rapid growth and voracious appetite
of the caterpillars demand quickly increasing and ample
space. Pieces of papec punctured with small holes are
placed over the trays in which. the hatching goes on ; and
the worms, immediately they burst their shell, creep
through these openings to the light, and thereby scrape off
any fragments of shell which, adhering to their skin, would
kill them by constriction. The rearing-house in which the
worms are fed (Fr. magnanerie) must be a spacious, well-
lighted, and well-ventilated apartment, in which scrupulous
cleanliness and sweetness of air are essential, and in which
the temperature may to a certain extent be under control.
The worms are more hardy than is commonly .supposed,
and endure variations of temperature from 62° to 78'
F. without any injury ; but higher temperature is very
detrimental. The lower the temperature at which the
worms are maintained the slower is their growth and
development ; but their health and vigour are increased,'
and the cocoon they spin is proportionately bigger. The*
SILK
59
worms increase in size with astonishing rapidity, and no
less remarkable is their growing voracity. Certain races
moult or cast their skin three times during their larval
existence, but for the most part the silkworm moults four
tinUi— about the sixth, tenth, fifteenth, and twenty -third
days after hatching. As these moulting periods approach,
the worms lose their appetite and cease eating, and at each
period of change they are left undisturbed and free from
noise. The worms Trom 1 oz. of graine — numbering, say,
40,000 — consume in their first stage about 6 lb of picked
leaf, in the second 18 lb, in the third CO lb, fourth 180 It),
and in their final stage 1098 R, — in all 13G2 lb of mul-
berry leaf; but from that is to be deducted about 590 lb of
unconsumed fragments removed in the litter, giving of
leaf really consumed 772 lb. An ounce of graine so treated
may yield from 80 to 120 lb of cocoons, 85 per cent, of
which consists of the weight of chrysalides and 15 per
cent, of pure cocoon. The growth of the worms during
their larval stage is thus stated by Count Dandolo : —
Weight per 100. ISlze In Lines.
1 fir 1
15 „
94 „
400 „
1628 „
9500 „
4
6
12
20
40
„ 2d
„ 3tl ,,
,, 4th
When the caterpillars are mature and ready to undergo
their transformation into the pupa condition, they cease
eating for some time and then begin to ascend the brush-
wood branches or echelletes provided for them, in which
they set about the spinning of their cocoons. Crowding
of positions must now be guarded against, to prevent the
spinning of double cocoons (do^ibions) by two worms spin-
ning together and so interlacing their threads that they
cannot be reeled. The insects complete their cocoons in
from three to four days, and in two or three days there-
after the cocoons are collected, and the pupa killed to
prevent its further progress and the bursting of the shell
by the fully developed moth. Such cocoons as are selected
for the production of graine, on the other hand, are col-
lected, freed from the external floss, and preserved at a
temperature of from 66° to 72° Fahr., and after a lapse of
from eleven to fifteen days the moths begin to make
their appearance. The coupling which immediately takes
place demands careful attention ; the males are afterwards
thrown away, and the impregnated females placed in a
darkened apartment till they deposit their eggs.
Diseases. — That the silkworm is subject to many and serious
diseases is only to be expected of a creature which for upwards
of 4000 years has been propagated under purely artificial condi-
tions, and these most frequently of a very insanitary nature, and
where, not the healthy life of the insect, but the amount of silk
it could 1)6 made to yield was the object of the cultivator. Among
the most futal and disastrous of these diseases with which the culti-
vator h.id long to grapple was " inuscardine, " a malady duo to tlie
development of a fungus, Botmjtis bassiana, in the body ot the cater-
pillar. The disease is peculiarly contagious and infectious, owing to
the development of tiic fungus through the skin, whence spores are
freed, which, coming in contact with healthy caterpillars, fasten on
thcru and germinate inwards, givingoff corpuscles within the body
of tho insect. Muscardinc, however, has not been epidemic for
many years. But about tho year 1853 anxious attention began to bo
given m Franceto the ravages of a disease among silkworms, which
from its alarming progress threatened to issue in national disaster.
This disease, which at a later period became known as ** pebrine,"
— a name given to it by M. de Quatrcfages, one of its many in-
vestigators,— had first been noticed in Franco at Cavaillon in tho
valley of the Durance near Avignon. Pebrine manifests itself by
dark spots in tho skin of tho larvic ; the eggs do not hatch out, or
hatch imperfectly; the worms are weak, stHnte<l, and unequal in
growth, languid in movement, fastidious in feeding ; many perish
before ctnning to maturity ; if they spin a cocoon it is soft and
loose, and ninths when developed are feeble and inactive. When
Bullieient vitality remains to produce a second generation it shows
in increased intensity the feebleness of the preceding. The disease
is thus hereditary, but in addition it is virulently infectious and
contagious. Fiom 1850- onwards French cultivators were com-
pelled, in order to keep up tlioir silk supply, to import graine from
uninfected di'^tricts. The area of iiilection increased rapidly,
and with that the deniaml for lieallhy graine coricsponaingly
expanded, while the »u]>ply had to be drawn from increasingly
remote and contracted regions. Partly supported by imported
eggs, the production of silk in France was maintained, and in 1853
reached its maximum of 26,000,000 kilos of cocoons, valued at
117,000,000 francs. From that period, notwithstanding tiie
importation at great cost of foreign graine, reaching in some yeai-s to
60,000 kilos, the production of silk fell otTwith stiirtliiig lapidity:
in 1856 it was not more than 7,500,000 kilos of cocoons , in 1861
and 1862 it fell as low as 5,800,000 kilos ; and in 1805 it touched
its lowest weight of about 4,000,000 kilos. In 1807 De Quaticfagcs
estimated the loss sutlereil by Fiance in the 13 ycar-s I'ollowiug
1853, from decreased production of silk and price iiaid to foreig..
cultivators for graine, to be not less tlian one niil'iard of francs.
In the case of Italy, where the disease showed itself later but oveii
more disastrously, affecting a much more extended industry, the
loss in 10 yeai-s De Quatrefages stated at two milliaids. A loss
of £120,000,000 sterling within 13 years, falling on a limited area,
and on one class within these two countries, constituted indeed a
calamity on a national scale, calling for national effort to contend
with its devastating action. The malady, moreover, spread east-
ward with alarming rapidity, and, although it was found to be less
disastrous and fatal in Oriental countries than in Europe, the
sources of healthy graine became fewer and fewer, till only Japan
was left as an uninfected source of European graine supply.
A scourge which so seriously menaced the very existence of the
silkworm in the world necessarily attracted a great amount of
attention. The disease was studied by the most eminent men of
science ; reports and suggestions innumerable were made, and a
whole pharmacopceia of remedies proposed. So early as 1849 M.
Gueriu Meneville observed in the blood of diseased silkworms cer-
tain vibratory corpuscles, but neither did he nor the Italian Signer
Filippi, who studied them later, connect them distinctly with the
disease. The corpuscles were first accurately described by Signor
Cornalia, whence they are spoken of as the corpuscles of Comalia.
The French Academy charged MM. de Quatrefages, Decaisne, and
Feligot with the study of the disease, and these learned men issued
two elaborate reports — J^tudcs sur les Maladies AetiteUes des Vers d
Soie, 1859, and Nouvelhs Mecherehci sur les Maladies Aetxulles des
Vers A Soie, 1860; but the suggestions they were able to ofier had
not the effect of stopping the march of the disease. In 1865 M.
Pasteur undertook a Government commission for the investigation
of the malady. Attention had been previously directed to the
corpuscles of Cornalia, and it had been found, not only that they
occurred in the blood, but that they gorged the whole tissues of
the insect, and their presence in the eggs themselves could be
microscopically demonstrated. Pasteur set himself to elucidate
the life-history of these corpuscles, and ho soon established (1) that
the corpuscles are the special characteristic of the disease, and that
these invariably manifest themselves, if not in earlier stages, then
in the mature motlis; (2) that the corpuscles arc parasites, and not
only the sign but tho cause of the disease ; and (3) that the disease
manifests itself by heredity, by contagion with diseased norms,
and by tho eating of leaves on which corpuscles are spread. In
this connexion he established the very important practical con-
clusion tliat worms which contract the disease during their own
life-cycle retain sufficient vitality to feed, develop, and spin theii
cocoon, although tho next generation is invariably infected and
shows the disease in its most virulent and fatal form. But this
fact enabled the cultivator to know with assurance whether tho
worms on which he bestowed his labour would yield him a harvest
of silk. Ho had only to examine the bodies of the mollis yielding
his graine: if tliey were free from disease then a crop was sure; if
they were infected the education would assuredly fail. Pasteur
brought out tho fact that tlie malady had existed from remote
periods and in many unsuspected localities. He found corpuscles
m Japanese cocoons and in many specimens which had been pre-
served for lengthened periods in public collections. Thus ho came
to tho conclu.sion that the malady had been inherent in many suc-
cessive generations of the silkworm, and that tlio epidemic condition
was only an exaggeration of a normal state brought about by tho
method of cultivation and production of graine pursued. The euro
proposed by Pasteur was simply to take care that tho stock whence
graine was obtained should bo heallhy, and the offspring would
then bo liealthy also. Small educations reared opart from the
ordinary magnanerie, for the production of graine alone, were re-
commended. At intervals of five days after spinning their cocoons
specimens were to be opened and tho chrysalides examined micro-
scopically for corpuscles. Should none have appeared till towards
the period of transformation and cBCiipo of tlio moths, the of;gs
subsequently hatched out might be depended on to yield a fair
crop oCsilk: should tho moths nrovo nerfectlv free from corpuscles
60
SILK
after depositing tlieir eggs the next generation -n-oiild certainly live
well tluougll tlie larval stage. For special treatment towards the
regeneration of an infected race, the most robust worms were to be
sefected, and the moths issuing from the cocoons were to be coupled
in numbered cells, where the female was to be confined till she
deposited her eggs. The bodies of both male and female were to
be examined for corpuscles, and the eggs of tliosc found absolutely
free from taint were preserved for similar "cellular" treatment in
the following year. Hy this laborious and painstaking method it
has been found possible to re-establish a healthy stock of valuable
races from previously highly-infected breeds. The rearing of worms
in small educations under special supervision has been found to be
a most effective means of combating pebrine. In the same way the
learing of worms for graine in the open air, and under as far as
possible natural conditions, has proved equally valuable towards
the development of a hardy, vigorous, and untainted stock. The
open-air education was originally proposed by Dr Chavannes of
Lausanne, and largely carried out in the canton of Vaud by M.
lioland, who reared his worms on mulberry trees enclosed within
"manchons" or cages of wire gauze and canvas. The insects
appeared quickly to revert to natural conditions; the moths brought
out in open air were strongly marked, lively, and active, and eggs
left on the trees stood the severity of the winter well, and hatched
out successfully in the following season. M. Roland's experience
demonstrated that not cold but heat is the agent which saps the
constitution of the silkworm and makes it a ready prey to disease.
JVild Silks. — The ravages of pebrine and other diseases had the
effect of attracting prominent attention to the numerous othei"
insects, allies of the mulberry silk\yorm, which spin serviceable
cocoons. It had been previously poin,3d ort by Captain Hutton,
who devoted great '.ctentlon to the silk question as it affects the
East Indies, that ct least six species of Bomhyx, differing from B.
inori, but also mulberry-feeding, are more or less domesticated in
India. These
include £. icx-
tor, the boro-
pooloo of Ben-
gal, a large
species having
one generation
yearly and pro-
ducing a soft
flossy cocoon ;
the Chinese
monthly worm, B. sinetisjs, having /;
several generations, and making if
a small cocoon ; and the Madrasi I
worm of Bengal (B. croisi), the \^.
Dassee or Desi worm of Bengal {B. \
fortiiTUitus), and B. eirracanensis^ >
the Burmese ^yorm, — all of which
yield several generations in the
year and form reelable cocoons.
.Besides these there are many other
mulberry-feeding Bomhycidm in the East, principally belonging to
the genera TJieopkila and Oa'nara, the cocoons of which have not
attracted cultivators. The moths yielding wild silks which have
'obtained most attention belong to the extensive and handsome
family Salumidx. The
most important of the
species at the present
time is the Chinese tussur
or tasar worm, Anthcnea
fiernyi (figs. 7, 8), an oak-
eeding species, native of
Mongolia, from which is
derived the greater part
of the so-called tussur
silk now imported into
Europe. Closely allied
to this is the Indian
tussur moth (fig. 9) An-
therma inylitla, found Tia.S.-Cocomot Antherxapemyt.
throughout the whole of India feeding on thq bher tree, Zizyphus
jvjuia, and on many other plants. It yields a large compact cocoon
(fig. 10) of a silvery grey colour, which Mr Thomas Wardle of Leek,
who has devoted a great amount of attention to the wild-silk ques-
tion, has succeeded in reeling. Next in promising qualities is the
muga or moonga worm of Assam, Anthereca assama, a species to
some extent domesticated in its native country. The yama-mai
■worm of Japan, Anthcriea {Sa'iiia) yama-viai, an oak-feeder, is a
race of considerable importance in Japan, where it was said to be
jealously guarded against foreigners. Its eggs were first sent to
lEurope by M. Duchene du Bellecourt, French consul-general in
Japan in 1861 ; but early in March following they hatched out,
when no leaves on which the larvce would feed were to be found.
In April a single worm got oak-buds, on which it throve, and ulti-
FlG. 7. — Chmuifc Tussur Moth,
Aniherxa pemyi (male).
mately spun a cocoon whence a female motli issued, from which JL
Gueriu M^neville named and described the species. A further supply
of eggs was secretl)' obtained by a Dutch physician JI. Pompe vaa
Meedervoort in 1863, and, as it was now known that the worm was
an oak-feeder, and
would thrive on tho
leaves of European
oaks, great results
were anticipatedfrom
the cultivation of tho
yama-mai. These ex-
pectations, however, ,
Fig. 9.— .1 1
r:€a luijliUa (female).
for various reasons,
have been disap-
pointed. The moths
hatch out at a period
when oak leaves are
not ready for their
feeding, and the silk
is by no means of a
quality to compare
with that . of the
common mulberry
wo.-m. The mezan-
"coorie moth of the
Assamese, Anthertea
mezanJcooria, yields a valuable cocoon, as does also the Atlas moth,
Attacus atlas, which has an omnivorous larva found throughout
.India, Ceylon, Burmah, China, and Java. The Cynthia moth,
Attacus cynthia, is domesticated as a source
of silk in certain provinces of China, where .
it feeds on the Ailanlhus glajidulosa. The
eria or arrindi moth of Bengal and Assam, At-
tacus nqini, which feeds on the castor-oil plant,
yields seven generations yearly, foim.ing loose
Hossy orange-red and sometimes white cocoons.
The ailanthus silkworm of Europe is a hybrid
between A. cynthia and A. ricini, first obtained
by Guerin Meneville, and now spread through
many silk-growing regions. These are only a few
of the motlis from which silks of various useful-
ness can be produced ; but none of these presents
qualities, saving perhaps cheajmess alone, which
can put them in competition with common silk.
Physical and Chemical Selations of Silk.
Common cocoons enclosing chrysalides
weigli eacli from 16 to 50 grains, or say
from 300 to 600 of small breeds and from
270 to SOO of large breeds to the D). One-
seventh o£ this weight is pure cocoon, and
of that not more than one-half is obtainable as reeled silk,
the remainder consisting of surface floss and of hard gummy
husk or " knub." The total length of double thread or
" bave " which the silk-worm winds into its cocoon may
amount to 4000 yards ; the quantity reelable therefrom
rarely exceeds 900 yards, and may range from 330 to 650
yards. It is found that the reelable fibre is as a rule
thickest and strongest at the middle portion, tapering down
very notably towards each extremity. In 1885 Mr T.
Wardle of Leek showed by an elaborate series of measure-
ments that the transverse section of common silk double
thread or bave measures on the average -g^. to -iJ-sy^ in.
at the thinnest and from ^^ to -g^ in. at the thickest part,
and in some instances the middle was one-third thicker,'
stronger, and more elastic than the ends. As a great deal
of silk remains on the husk after reeling, it is obvious
that the thread last emitted by the silkworms on the inner
wall of the cocoons must be of extreme tenuity. The silk
of the various species of Antherxa and Attacus is also
thicker and stronger at the centre of the reeled portion than
towards its extremities; but the diameter is much greater
Fio. 10. — Cccoon of
Afilhersea mytitta.
SILK
61
than tliat of cctnroon :-il!c. and the filaments under the
microscope (fig. i I ) uresent the appearance of flat bands,
the exudation from the
two spinnerets being
joined at their flat edges.'
On this account the fibres
of tussur silk tend to split
up into fine fibrilla; under
the various preparatory
processes in manufactur-
ing, and its riband struc-
ture is the cause of the
glassy lustre peculiar to
the woven and finished
fibres.
Silk fibre consists
essentially of a centre or Fis.ll.— Microscopic appearance of Sllk of
J. 'V, . .,, Chinese Tussur.
core of fibroin, with a
covering of sericin or silk albumen, and a little waxy and
colouring matter. Fibroin, which is anafogous to horn, hair,
and like dermal products, constitutes about 66 per cent, of
the entire mass, and has a composition represented by the
formula C,5H23N50^. It has the characteristic appearance
of pure silk, — a; brilliant soft white body with a pearly
lustre, — insoluble in water, alcohol, and ether, but it dis-
solves freely in concentrated alkaline solutions, mineral
acids, strong acetic acid, and in aramoniacal solution of
oxide of copper. Sericin, which constitutes the gummy
covering (Fr. gres) of the fibre, is a gelatinous body which
dissolves readily in warm soapy solutions, and in hot
water, in which on cooling it forms a jelly with even as
little as 1 per cent, of the substance. It is precipitated
from hot solutions by alcohol, falling as a white powder.
Its formula is CuHosNjOj. According to the researches
of P. Bolley, the glands of the silkworm contain semi-
liquid fibroin alone, and it is on exposure to the air that
the surface is acted on by oxygen, transforming the ex-
ternal pellicle into the more soluble form of sericin. Silk
is highly hygroscopic, taking up as much as 30 per cent.
of water wthout feeling perceptibly damp. It is a most
perfect non-conductor of electricity, and in its dry state the
fibres frequently get so electrically excited as to seriously
interfere with their working, so that it becomes necessary
to moisten them with glycerin or soapy solutions. Silk is
readily distinguished from wool and other animal fibres by
the action of an alkaline solution of oxide of lead, which
darkens wool, <Src., owing to the sulphur they contain, but
does not affect silk, which is free from that body. Again,
silk dissolves freely in common nitric acid, which is not
the case with wool. From vegetable fibres silk is readily
distinguished by the bright yellow colour it takes from a
solution of picric acid, which does not adhere to vegetable
substances. The rod-like appearance of silk and its
absence of markings under the microscope are also easily
recognizable features of the fibre.
Silk Manufacture.
Here we must distinguish between the reeled silk
and the spun or waste silk manufactures. The former
embraces a range of operations peculiar to silk, dealing
as they do with continuous fibres of great length, whereas
in the spun silk industry the raw materials are treated
by methods analogous to those followed in the treat-
ment of other fibres. It is only floss, injured and un-
reelable cocoons, the husks of reeled cocoons, and other
waste from reeling, with certain wild silks, which are
treated , by the spun silk proccs.s, and the silk thereby
produced loses much of the beauty, strength, and brilliance
which are characteristic of the manufactures from reeled
ailk.
Filature or JJccling. — When the cocoons have heen gathered
the chrysalides they contain are killed cither by dry heat or by
exposiue to steam. All cocoons stained by the premature death of
the chrysalides (clnqucs)\ pierced cocoons, double cocoons, and any
from other causes rendered unreekble, arc put aside for the spun-
sillt manufacture. Then the uninjured cocoons are by themselves
sorted into classes having simibr shades of colour, size, and
quality of fibre. This assortment is of great consequence for the
success of the reeling operations, as uniformity of qualitj' and
evenness and regularity of fibre ace the most valuable features
in raw silk. The object of reeling is to bring together tho
filaments (bare) from two or moie (generally four- or five, but
sometimes up to twenty) cocoons, and to form them into one con-
tinuous, uniform, and regular strand, which constitutes tho "raw
silk " of commerce. To do tliis, the natural gum of the cocoons
which holds the filaments together must be softened, the ends of
the tilanicnts of the required numlier of cocoons must be caught,
and means must be taken to unwind and lay these filaments
together, so as to form a single uniform rounded strand of raw
silk. As the reeling proceeils the reeler has to give tho most
careful attention to the thickness of the strand being produced,
and to introduce new cocoons in place of any from which the
rcelable silk has become exhausted. In this way a continuous
uniform fibre or strand of raw silk of indefinite length is produced.
The apparatus used for these purposes in some localities is of a
very primitive kind, and the reeling being uneven and lumpy the
silk is of inferior quality and low value. With comparatively
simple appliances, on the other hand, .'i skilled reeler, with trained
eye and delicate touch, can produce raw silk of remarkably smooth
and even quality. According to the method commonly adopted
in North Italy and France the. cocoons are for a few minutes
immersed in water a little under the boiling point, to which a small
quantity of alkali has been added. A girl with a small hand brush
of twigs keeps stirring them in the water till the silk softens, and
the outer loose fibres (floss) get entangled with the twigs and
come cS till the end of the main filament {vtaitrc hrin) is found.
These ends being secured, the cocoons are transferred to a basin of
tray containing water heated to from 75° to 85° Fahr. , in which they
float while the silk is being reeled off. If the water is too cold the
gum does not soften enough and the cocoons rise out of the basin
in reeling ; if it is too hot the cocoons collapse and fall to the
bottom. The ends of the requisite number of filaments being
brought togetlier, they are passed through an eyelet or guide, and
similarly another equal set are passed through a correspcndin"
guide. The two sets of filaments are then crossed or twisted
around each other several ^urns as if to make one thread, after
which they are separated and passed through sejiarate guides to
the reel round which they are separately wound. When a large
number of cocoons are to be combined into one strand they may be
reeled from the tray in four sets, which are first crossed in pairs,
then combined into two, and those two then crossed and after-
wards combined into a single strand. The object of crossing
{croissagc) is to round, smooth, and condense thv separate filaments
of each set into one strand, and as the surface of tlie filaments are
gummy and adhesive it is found on drying that they have agglutin-
ated into a compact single fibre of raw silk. In the most apju'oved
modern filatures there i^ a separate cocoon boiler {cuiseKse), an
oblong tank containing water boiled by steam heat. In these the
cocoons are immersed in rectangular perforated boxes for about
three minutes, wfieu they are transferred to the beating machine
(baltcusc), an earthenware trough liaving a perforated false bottom
through which steam keeps the water at a temperature of from
140° to 160°. In this water the cocoons are kept stirring by small
brushes rotated by mechanical means, and as tho silk softens' tho
brushes gradually rise out of the wiitcr, bringing entangled with
them the loose floss, and thereby revealing the main filament of
each cocoon. The cocoons are next, iu sulficient number, trans-
ferred to tho rccler's tray (bacindla), where the water is heated
to about 120°. From tho tray the filaments are carried through a
series of porcelain and glass eyelets, so arranged that tho strand
returns on itself, two portions of tho same straud being crossed or
intertwisted for rounding and consolidation, instead of the eroissago
of two separate strands as in tho old method. The reel to which
the raw silk is led consists of a light six-armed frame, enclosed
within a wooden ca^illg liaving a glass frame in front, the enclosure
being heated with steam-pipes. To keep the strands from directly
overl.iying each other and so adhering, tho last guide through
which the silk passes has a reciprocating motion whereby tho fibre ia
distributed witliin certain limits over tho reel. A sectional view
of the rooting apparatus and arrangements — now iu common use in
Italy — is shown in lig. 12.
Throwinrj. — Haw silk, being still too fine and delicate for ordin-
ary use, next inideigoes a series of operations called throwing, thi
object of which is to twist and double it into more substantial
yarn. Tho first operation of tho silk throwster is winding. IIo
receives tho raw silk in li&uks (uj it is taken from tho reel of the
filature, and putting it on a light reel of a aimllor construction.,
(52
SILK
called the stfifts, te winds it on bobbins with a rapid reciprocating
motion, so as to lay the fibre in diagonal lines. These bobbins are
then in general taken to the first spinning frame, and there tlic
single strands receive their first twist, which rounds them, and
prevents the compound fibre from splitting up and separating
when, by the subsequent scouring operations, the gum is removed
rig. 12.
which presently mnds them into one. Next follQws the operation
of cleaning, in which the silk is simply reeled froin one bobbin to
another, but on its way it passes through a slit which is suflSciently
wide to pass the filament but stops the motion when a thick
lump or nib is presented. In the doubling, which is the ne.xt process,
two or more filaments are wound together side by side on the same
reel preparatory to their being twisted or thrown into one yarn.
Bobbins to the number of strands which are to b^ twisted into one
are mounted in a creel on the doubling frame, and the strands are
passed over smooth rods of glass or metal through a reciprocating
guide to the bobbin on which they are wound. Each separate
strand passes through the eye of a faller, which, should the fibre
break, falls down and insiantly stops the machine, thus efiectually
calling attention to the fact that a tlyead has failed. The spin-
ning or throwing which follows is done on a frame with uprit^ht
spindles and flyers, the yarn as it is twisted being drawn forward
through guides and wound on revolving bobbins with a reciprocat-
ing motion. From these bobbins the silk is reeled into hanks of
definite length for the market. Numerous attempts have been
made to simplify the silk-throwing by combining two or more
.operations on one machine, but not as yet with much success.
According to the qualities of raw silk used and the throwing
[operations undergone the principal classes of thrown silk are— (1)
^ singles which consist of a single strand of twisted raw silk made
jUp of the filaments of eight to ten cocoons ; (2) tram or weft
thread, consisting of two or three strands" of raw silk not tmsted
before doubling and only lightly spun (this is soft, flossv, and
comparatively weak) ; (3) organzine, the thread used for "warps
made from two and rarely three twisted strands spun in the
direction contrary to that in which they are separately twisted.
, bilks for sewing and embroidery belong to a difterent class from
[those intended for weaving, and thread-makers throw their raw
Bilks m a manner peculiar to themselves.
Numbering of Silk.~T:he numbering {tUrage) of raw and thrown
Silks, by which the size or fineness of the yarn is stated, is deter-
mined by constant length with variable . weight, whereas ether
yarns are indicated by constant weight with variable length The
I original standard length was 9600 Paris ells = ll,400 metres, the
number being the weight in deniers of 24 grains = 1-275 grammes
, This still remains the most common standard, and in practice the
number is ascertained by the weight in grains, ^ of a denier of a
hank containing 476 metres (properly 4751 metres- 400 Paris eUs)
According to this standard a single cocoon filament weighs 2 to
,3-5 deniers, a 3 to 4 cocoon strand ranges from 7 to 10 deniers
and a 16 or 17 cocoon sttand is numbered from 48 to 52. Spun
silk 13 numbered on a different principle. In the United Kincrjom
i.Jf determined by the cotton standard, the number of skefns of
840 yards per lb. In Continental manufacturing centres generally
the standard IS the number of echeveaux of 500 metres contained
xn a half kilogramme, or, more simply, the number of kilometres
,per kilogramme. According to the resolution of the international
.congress for promoting uniformity in the numbering of yams.
held at Vienna in 1873 and at Brussels in 1874, the grade of silk
. ught now to be expressed by ten times the number of grammes,
given by a hank of 1000 metres.
These methods of indicating grades of silk give, however, only
the most -imperfect idea as to the quaUty of the thread • and
specially they convey no information as to uniformity of diameter
and strength. ^ To test the raw material in respect of uniformity
a most ingenious American invention, the serigraph, has been
introduced, and is now largely used. The serigraph has two reels
mounted on one spindle, or at least so arranged that they make
precisely the same number of revolutions. The reels are covered
, with india-rubber, and No. 2 is 3 per cent, greater in circum-
ference than No. 1 The silk to be tested is placed on No Ire^l
and from that wound on l^o. 2, which, being of greater diameter,
puts a certain amouut of strain on the elastic fibre. In passine
Irom the one reel to the other the silk is carried over an ogate
hook attached to the bob of a pendulum, so that the strain on the
yarn is communicated to the pendulum. The strain caused by the
t P'=^,9'^"t-. tension of course varies with the streiigth of the yarn
to which it is appied, being gi-eater with increased strength'and
thickness, and falling away just as the strength of the yarn
decreases. Thus the yarn in passing over the agate hook keeps
by Its tension the jiendulum at one particular position while it is
uniform, but when it increases in strength it raises the pendulum
higher, -and when it becomes weaker the pendulum falls To the
extremity of the pendulum is attached a pencil or marker which
traces on a web of paper, travelling at a rate in fixed proportion
to the winding, the changes in the pendulum, and thus is obtained
a graphic record in a most distinct manner of every variation in
the strength of the silk. The precise spot where any imperfection
occurs IS shown on the tracing, which tlius not only absolutely
certifies the quality of the yarn, but also automaticaUy measures
the quantity reeled.
Conditioning.— SSk in the raw and thrown state, as has already
been pointed out, absorbs a large amount of moisture, and may
contam from 20 to 30 per cent, of water witliout being manifestly
damp ^ As it is largely sold by weight it becomes necessary to
ascertam its condition in respect of absorbed water, and for that
purpose official conditioning houses are established in all the con-
siderable centres of silk trade. In these the silk is tested or con-
ditioned, and a certificate of weight issued in accordance with the
results. The silk is for four hours exposed to a dry heat of 230°
Fahr., and immediately thereafter weighed. To the weight 11 per
cent, is added as the normal proportion of water held by the fibre
'icounng.—V^ to this point the silk fibre continues to be com-
paratively lustreless, stiti', and harsh, from the coating of albam'n-
ous matter (gum or gres) 'on its surface. As a prelim.iiiary to most
subsequent processes the removal of the wliole or some portion of
this gum is necessary by boiling-off, scouring, or decrnisage. To
boil off say 300 lb of thrown silk, about 60 lb of fine white soap is
shred, and dissolved in about 200 gallons of pure water This
solution is maintained at a heat of 195°, and in it the hanks of raw
silk are immersed, hung on a wooden rod, the hanks being con-
tinually turned round, so as to expose all portions equally to the
solvent influence of the hot solution. After being dried, the
hanks are packed in linen bags and boiled for three hours in a
weaker soapy solution, then washed out in pure warm water and
dried m a centrifugal hydro-extractor. According to the amount of
gum to be boiled otf the soap solutions are made strong or weak ;
but care has to be exercised not to overdo the scouring, whereby
loss of strength, substance, and lustre would result. For some
purposes— making of gauzes, crapes, flour-bolting cloth, and for
what is termed " souples "— the silk is not scoured, and for silks
to be dyed certain dark colours half-scouring is practised. The
perfect scouring of French silks removes from 25 to 27 per cent, of
their weight, and Chinese silks lose from 30 to 31 per cent.
Scouring reiiders all common silks, whether white or yellow in the
raw, a brilliant pearly white, \rith a delicate soft flossy texture,
from the fact that the fibres which were agglutinated in reeling,
being_ now degummed, are separated from each other and show
their individual tenuity in the yarn. Silks to be finished white
are at this point bleached by exposure in a closed chamber to the
fumes of sulphurous acid, and at the close of the process the hanks
are washed in pure cold water to remove all traces of the acid.
Spun Silk Manufacture. —The materials of the spun silk trade
are— (1) the floss or loose outer fibres which surround ordinary
cocoons ; (2) the remains of cocoons after the reelable silk has been
removed ; (3) waste from throwing processes and from all the
stages through which reeled silk passes in manufacturing ; (4)
unreelable cocoons, i.e., those which are pierced, torn, or cut, stained
by dead chrysalides, &c. , and double cocoons; (5) cocoons of various
wild silks, which are either unreelable or most profitably worked
by carding. The waste spinners' first duty is to bring these diverse
materials into uniform fibrous condition for spinning. In dealing
with cocoons and cocoon husks, the fibres, which are gummed
together into a dense compact mass, must be so washed, softened,
and freed from each other that they can be readily teased and
torn into a tow-like mass. For this purpose they are washed with
a strong, hot soap solution in a revolving washing machine, in
which they are continuously subjected for three or four hours to
SILK
63
the actfon of falling stampers, from this treatment they are taken
to the cold- tor washing machine, where they are treated with a
continuous spay of pure water whilst revolving in the tub under
the action of falling stampers, as in the liot-watcr machine. Xext
the cocoons are rinsed in a spray of pure water, then the moisture
Is e.xpcUed in a hydro-extractor, and so, thoroughly degummed and
Joftened, they are allowed to dry. For further treatment they are
damped with a spiinkling of weak solution of Marseilles soap,
then beaten either with the hand or by means of a machine.
This machine has' a series of leather straps attached t6 an endless
band, which by its rapid revolution causes the straps to hit with a
quick whipping stroke against the surface of a revolving tray on
which are placed the washed cocoons. The beating serves to free
the fibres fully from each other, and e.xpels in the form of a line
dwst the remains of chrysalides from the interior of the cocoons.
It now remains only by the operation of the cocoon opener to tease
out and separate the fibres into a kind of lap. The cocoon-opener
is a modified carding madiine, the dnim or cylinder of which is
co?ered with strong card teeth. On this drum the fibres collect as
thiiy are opened and teased out, and when the teeth are full the
lap so formed is stripped off by the attendant. The silken fibres
are now ready fbr the operations preparatory to spinning.
To bring raw waste other than cocoons to this point a different
series of operations are necessary. The removal of the gum is first
■usually eflected by a process of fermentation or maceration instead
of washing with soap, whereby a great saving of soap is secured.
Into a large tank a quantity of waste is packed, and soaked with a
weak soapy solution which is maintained by steam at about 170°.
Th« tank is closed over, and in the course of a few days fermenta-
tion begins, and according to circumstances is allowed to go on
from two to three weeks. From time to time proof samples are
withdrawn to observe the progress of the rotting, as over-fermenta-
tion would result in the same injury which arises from over-scouring,
— weakness of fibre, loss of lustre, and waste of substance. By
maceration the silk loses from 20 to 30 per cent, of its weight.
From the maceration vat the silk is conveyed to the hot-water
washing machine, where with a weak soapy solution it is washed
under the influence of stampers for about five ininutes. Great
care is necessary to prevent the silk from cooling before this
washing, as thereby the macerated slime would form an almost
insoluble deposit on the silk fibre. From the hot soap solution
the silk is taken to the cold-water machine, where, with the aid of
stampers, it undergoes a thorough and prolonged washing. After
being hung over hurdles to dry it is sprinkled with a weak solution
of Marseilles soap, and then dried by means of the hydro-extractor
and subsequent exposure in a heated well-ventilated chamber. At
this point both cocoon waste, as already described, and iloss waste
are in the same condirion.
The spinner has now to deal with a mass of entangled fibres of
all lengths, which he must render even, parallel, and comparatively
uniform in length before it can be spun. The fibres are slightly
damped with a weak soapy solution and taken to a filling drum,
which consists of a large cylinder having set into it, parallel with
its axis, from twelve to twenty rows of strong steel spikes. A
feeding apron of cloth covered with card-teeth is jjrovided to the
m.ichine, and, as the fibre is carried forward towards the drum, a
similar card-teeth-covered band travels close over the surface of
the apron, so that the fibre is presented to the drum from between
two sets of card-teeth. The rows of spikes catch the fibre as
presented to them, draw it through the card-teeth, and carrying it
with them lap it around the drum in regular combed-out order.
When the spikes are sufficiently filled, the lap is cut at each set of
spikes, and so stripped from the drum it forms a definite number
ef "strioks," of the breadth of the drum itself and the length of
the space between the sets of spikes. These stricks are caught in
wooden clamps or "books," which are fastened in the bed of the
flat dressing frame. Over them an endless band travels, having on
it at short intervals belts of heckle-teeth, called combs, which comb
out doubled and short fibres, and, acting first on one end of the
strick and next on the other, leave the silk in the condition of
beautifully parallel and comparatively uniform flakes. The pro-
duct of the first combing, called the first draft, is the longest and
puresffibre. The material combed out as it fills the comb teeth is
caught in books, and when itself combed out forms second drafts,
shorter and less valuable than the first ; and again the combings
of second drafts, when combed, form third drafts still shorter. In
this way five or six separate drafts or combings from the original
lap are obtained, all increasingly short and impure. Tho final
combed waste is treated by a different process for making noil or
bourette yarn.
A new form of dressing-frame is now coming into favour, in
which the stricks of silk have tlieir ends rolled round wooden rods,
and so secured between wooden clamps on the surface of a huge
cylinder which revolves so slowly that the attendant can change
and fill the clamps as the drum goes round. la its revolution tho
exposed poition of tho_ silk is first combed on one side by a
rapidly revolving card'-toothod oylindor, from which it passes
onwards to meet a second similar cylinder revolving in a contrary
direction, which combs the opposite side. In tho second revolu-
tion of the cylinder the portion of the strick which was previously
wound on the rod is similarly combed on both sides, and thus the
entire strick is rendered smooth and parallel.
Tho above is an outline of the ordinary process of preparing
silk waste as practised in Switzerland and in the United Kingdom,
&c., the range of machines being that of Messrs Greenwood and
Batley of Leeds. In the great Mannin«ham silk mills at' Brad-
ford, Mr S. C. Lister, the well-known inventor of wool-combing
machinery, while using machinery of the class described, treats by
patented methods peculiar to lumself a great proportion of his
material. According to his original process, scoured, teased, and
opened waste is first drawn into a lap on a screw gill box. These
laps, containing all the fibres both long and short, are taken to
the circular nip combing machine, where the "top" of long fibre
is drawn out as a continuous sliver and separated from the " noil"
or short fibre, which according to its length is delivered at separate
points. In his most recent mode of working, Mr Lister forms his
waste into a broad lap on the large drum of a kind of carding
engine, the drum being stripped when its teeth are filled with the
prepared fibre. These laps are laid on the feeding table of a
machine which has an oscillating or rocking filling head. ' At each
oscillatiou the end of the lap in front of tho table is " filled " on to
a row of heckle-teeth parallel with it, and just as the feeding-table
recedes a knife comes down between the heckles and the table with
a sudden stroke and separates from the lap such fibres as have
been placed or filled on to the heckle-teeth. These heckle-teeth
in the meantime, being fi.xed on an endless band, are continuously
moving forward in a horizontal direction parallel with the front of
the feeding machine, and a set of three such machines place a
portion of their laps on to the heckle-teeth in their progiess, thus
filling the teeth with a fair "bite" of silk. Immediately the
heckles have passed the machines, the silk is caught and_ cleaned
off the endless comb by pairs of endless revolving nips rising from
under and descending from above, and between these nips the
stricks are carried forward in the same horizontal line in which
they travelled on the heckle-teeth, which here begin their return
journey. to be again filled. The stricks in their progress are now
submitted to the combing action of revolving card-covered cylindei-s
and card-covered cloth. Half way on in its horizontal path a
second set of endless nips seize the combed portion of the silk, the
uncombed portion held between the first set is released, and it in
its turn is submitted to the combing action of cylinders and endless
card-bands. In the end *he fully dressed stricks of silk fall on a
narrow feeding cloth, which has a combined reciprocating' and
forward motion, so that the material is spread with the utmost
regularity and evenness. It passes through a set of sciew gills,
and IS delivered into cans in the form of a most uniform and equal
continuous sliver. The great advantage of these machines is tho
small amount of tending they require and the largo quantity of
dr«ased silk they deliver with unerring regularity.
The spinning proper of dressed waste is done precisely as in tho
spinning of flax yarn. The flakes are formed into a broad sliver
on the spreading frame, and further attenuated and equalized on
the set frame and the drawing frame, from which last the silk
passes to the roving frame, where it- receives its first preliminary
twist and is sufficiently condensed to wind on a bobbin. The
rovings are finally elongated'and spun on the ordinary spinning
frame, and for twisting into thread the yarns in two, three, or more
strands are wound together on the doubling frame, and finally
twisted as in dealing with raw silk spinning.
Spun silk, as it conies from the spinniug frame, shows a good
many nibs and irregularities and some roughness of surface. To
remove these it is wound from one bobbin to another over an
improving or cleaning and gassing machine, which consists of a
frame having attached to it a number of small cone rollers, around
which the yarn passes in a way which makes the entering portion
of the thread rub against the portion running ofl". In this way,
with considerable rubbing, the yarn cleans itself; and in its course
over tho rollers it rapidly passes through a gas flame, which singes
off the fine projecting fibres, leaving tho yarn_clean, round, and
compact. It is submitted to a further examination by cyo and
hand after being wound into hanks ; and some yarns aro finally
dressed with albumen and gum solutions.
in tho combing of waste silk as much as from 26 to 30 nor cent,
of waste in a second degree arises, much of which is very snort, full
of nibs and dust. From this a lower quality of yarn is spun, called
noil yarn, and on tho Contirfonl "bourette'' silk, to distinguish it
from tho "floret" silk made from first waste. On account of tho
shortness of staple it is worked up by machinery different from
that used in the floret manufacture, being prepared by carding, and
combed out with a modification of Heilmann s or Lister's combing
machines. Tho finished noil yarn is very lumpy, and requires
severe improving and singeing.
Spun silk lacks tho smoothness, hrilUnncp, and strength of raw
■ilk yam, but still it is an extieiuely valuable »ud useful mat«iial.
64
SILK
and its comparative coeapness gives it an important piace among
the products of textile industry. It is used very largely in mixed
fabrics, as well as for the cheaper ribbons, velvets, liat plush, and
for liiany other silk woven fabrics, as also in the hosiery and glove
trades and for sewing, knitting, and embroidering yarus.
Silk Weighting. — Into the dyeing of silk it is not here necessary
to enter, except in so far as concerns a nefarious practice, carried
on in dye-houses, which has exercised a most detrijnental influence
on the silk trade. Silk, we have seen, loses about one-fourth of its
weight in scouring. To obviate that loss it has long been the prac-
tice to dye some dark silks "in the gum," the dye combining in
these cases with the gum or gelatinous coating, and such silks are
known as "souples." Both in the gum and in the boiled-off state
silk has the peculiar property of imbibing certain metallic salts
largely and combining very firmly with them, the fibre remaining
to external appearance undiminished in strength and lustre, but
much added to in size and weight. Silk in the gum, it is found,
absorbs these salts more freely than boiled-oif ; so to use it for
weighting there are these great inducements — a saving of the costly
and tedious boiling-off, a saving of the 25 per cent, weight which
would have disappeared in boiling, and a surface on which much
greater sophistication can be practised than on scoured silk. In
dyeing a silk black a certain amount of weight must be added ;
and the common practice in former times was to make up on the
silk what was lost in the scouring. Up to 1857 the utmost the dyer
could add was " weight for weight," but an accidental discovery
that year put dyers into the way of using tin salts in weighting
with the result that they can now add 40 oz. per lb to scoured silks,
120 oz. to souples, and as much as 150 oz. to spun silks, and yet
call these compounds " silk. " Not only so, but the use of tin salts,
especially stannic chloride, SnClj, enables dyers to weight all colours
the same as black. In his " Report on English Silk Industry " to
the Royal Commission on Technical Instruction (1885) Mr Thomas
Wardle of Leek says : —
" Colours and white of all possible shades can very easily be imparted to this
compound of silk and tin, and this method is becoming extensively used in
Lyqps. Thus weicliting, which was until recently thought to apply only to
black silks, and from which coloured silks were comparatively free, is now
cheupeniug and deteriurating the latter in pretty much the same ratio as the
former. Thus the proto- and per-salts of iron, as well as the proto- and per-salts of
tin, including also a large variety of tannin, sumac, divi-dlvi, chestnut, valonia,
the acacias {Areca Catechu and Acacia CaUchu from Indian from which are
obtained cutch and gambler, Ac, are no longer used soleljf as mordants or
tinctorial matters, but mainly to servo the obj'-ct of converting the silk into a
greatly-expanded fibre, consisting of a conglomeration of more or less of these
substances/'
Sugar also is employed to weight silk. On this adulterant Mr
Wardle remarks : —
"With a solutloi^ of sugar, silk can have its weight augmented from 1 oz. to
3 oz. per lb. ^ I am not quite sure that this method of weighting was not first used
by the throwsters, as sugar is known to have been used for adulterating and
loading gum silk for a very long time, and then the Idea was afterwards applied
to silk after the dyeing operations. It is much resorted to forweichting coloured
silks by dyers on the Continent, and, though a very clumsy method, no substitute
has been found so cheap and easy of application. Bichloride of tin, httring
chemical affinity for silk fibre, bids fair to extinguish the use of sugar, which,
from its hygiometric qualities, has a tendency to ruin the silk to which it is
applied, if gieat care bo not taken to regulate the quantity. Tliere is not the
slightest use or excuse for the application of sugar, except to cheapen the Bilk
by about 15 to 20 per cent."
Wild Silk Dyeing. — Among the disadvantages under which the
silks of the wild moths long laboured one of the most serious was
the natural colour of the silks, and the extreme difficulty with
which they took on dyes, specially the light and brilliant colours.
For success in coping with this difficulty, as well as in dealing
with the whole question of the cultivation and employment of
wild silks, the unwearying patience and great skill of Mr Thomas
Wardle of Leek deserve special mention here. The natural colour
of tussur silk is a greyish fawn, and that shade it was found
impossible to discharge by any of the ordinary bleaching agents,
so as to obtain a basis for light and delicate dyes. Moreover, the
chemical character of the tussur silk differs from that of the
Hiulberry silk, and the fibre has much less affinity for tinctorial
substances, which it takes up unevenly, requiring a large amount
of dye-stuifs. After protracted experimenting Mr Wardle was
able in 1873 to show a scries of tussurs well-dyed in all the darker
shades of colour, but the lighter and bright blues, pinks, scarlets,
.'.c, he could not produce. Subsequently the late.M. Tessie du
Motay found that the fawn colour of natural tussur could be dis-
charged by solution of permanganate of potash, but the oxidizing
action was so rapid and violent that it destroyed the fibre itself.
Gentler Jneans of oxidation have since been found for bleaching
tussur to a fairly pale ground, but the dyeing of light colours
cannot yet be said to be a commercial success. The silk of the
eria or castor-oil worm {Allacus ricini) presents the same difficulties
in dyeing as the common tussur. A portion of the eria cocoons
are white, while the others are of a lively brown colour, and for
the dyeing of light colours the latter i-equire to undergo a bleach-
ing process. The silk takes up colour with difficulty from a strong
vat, and is consequently costly to dye. Moonga silk from Anlhersea
assama has generally a rather dark brown colour, but that appears
to be much influenced by the leaves on which the worm feeds, the
cocoons obtained on the champaca tree (MicJielia champaca) giving
a fine white fibre much valued in Assam. The dark colours are
very difficult to bleach, but the sUk itself takes dye-colours niucU
more freely and evenly than either tussur or eria silk.
Trade and Commerce.
About the commencement of this century the chief silk-
producing regions of the World were the Levant (including
Broussa, S3n-ia, and Persia), India, Italy, and France, the
two first named sending the low-priced silk, the other two
the fine qualities. Between 1840 and 1850, after the open-
ing of trade with China, large quantities of silk were sent
from the northern port of Shanghai, and afterwards also
from the southern port of Canton. The export became
important just at the time when disease in Europe had
lessened the production on the Continent. This increased
production of medium silk, and the growing demand for
fine sorts, induced many of the cocoon-growers in the Le-
vant to sell their cocoons to Europeans, who reeled them
in Italian fashion under the name of " Patent Brutia," thus
producing a very fine valuable sUk. In 1857 commenced
the importation of Japan silk,, which became so fierce a-
competitor with Bengal silk as gradually to displace it in
favour ; and recently the native silk reeled in Bengal has
almost ceased to be made, only the best European filatures,
produced under the supervision of skilled Europeans, now
coming forward.
China and Japan, both of which contribute so largely
to the supplies that appear in European and American
statistics, only export their excess growth, silk weaving
being carried on and native silk worn to an enormous
extent in both countries. The other Asiatic exporting
countries also maintain native silk manufactures which
absorb no inconsiderable proportion of their raw material.
The silk production of the world, including only the amount
exported from these Oriental countries, amounts on an
average to from 20,000,000 ft to 25,000,000 ft yearly;
but the crop is subject to great variations.
The supply available for European consumption during
recent years was thus stated, in bales of 100 ft, by the
Moniteur des Soies of Lyons, 25th July 1885 : —
1854-66.
1876-76.
1876-77.
1877-78.
1878-79.
1879-80.
1880-«1.
1881-82.
188t-63.
1883-84.
1884-85.
1886-S6 (estimates).
Italy
92,400
44,000
S,300
6,600
67,000
16,000
2,500
16,000
25,000
2,000
1,500
10,000
40,600
19,000
760
6,000
62,600
13,500
1,100
6.000
32,000
8,600
800
.6,000
68,600
9,600
1,500
6,000
70,000
9,500
1,500
6,000
62,000
17,600
2,300
6,000
78,000
14,500
1,760
12,000
65,000
■ 10,000
1,600
12,000
Maximum.
45,000
10,000
600
10,000
Minimum.
40,000
8,000
600
8,000
Total bales
146,300
91,500
38,600
66,250
83,10«
46,3(io
84,600
86,000
77,800
101,250
88,600
65,600
56,500
China
55,000
19,800
11,000
68,000
14^00
8,492
14,000
65,000
10,000
6,000
13,000
46,000
12,600
6,000
52.000
63,000
9,000
6,000
22,000
65,000
12,600
6,000
14,000
67,000
6,000
4,000
16,000
44,000
14,500
8,000
16,600
47J)P0
11,500
3,000
26,000
50,000
16,000
3,000
25,000
60,000
7,000
3,000
20,000
45,000
12,000
2,000
16,000
42,000
12,000
2,000
12,000
85,800
1M,492
94,000
85,600
90,000
86,600
91,000
77,000
86,600
94,000
80,000,
74,000
. 68,e«0
Grand total of bales.
Price of Tsatlee No 4
232,100
19.1,992
132,600
161,760
173,100
132,800
176,600
163,000
164,300
195,260
168,600
189,600
124,60«
15s 1 1.^^
283.
173. ed.
163.
16s. 3d.
13s. 9d.
178.
Hs. 6J.
ICs.
133.
12!. td.
12s. (d.
SILK
65
While these tables indicate remarkable fluctuation of
' supply they show generally that Asiatic countries, besides
supplying their own considerable demands, send to Europe
fully one half of the whole silk consumed in Western
manufactures. China stands first as a silk-producing
country, yielding about 35 per cent, of the entire supply ;
the whole produce of Italy amounts to nearly the same
proportion ; the exports of Japan account for about 1 2 per
cent, of the annual supply ; while in recent years France
and the Levant are credited with about equal proportions.
In the United Kingdom the trade in raw silks has been
in a condition of decline for a considerable nuinber of years,
much of the Chinese and Eastern produce which formerly
came to London now being unshipped at Marseilles, and
sold in the Lyons market, which has become the leading
silk mart. But there is a very steady and continuous ex-
pansion in the demand for waste silks and cocoons for the
spun silk trade. The following figures show the official
annual returns of silk imports since 1860, the date of the
French commercial treaty, which exposed many branches
of the trade to severe and fatal competition : — ■
Knubs or
Silk
Tears.
Raw Silk.
Husks o( .Silk
and Waste.
Thrown Silk.
Manufactures.
tt>
Cwts.
lb
i
18G0-65
43,137,997
132,020
543,679
30,127,878
1865-70
31,645,505
141,628
859,251
49,885,971
1870-75
34,220,037
171,166
747,505
55,116,815
1875-80
23,003,683
158,887
545,247
62,539,166
1880
3,673,949
55,002
203,567
13,324,935
1881
2,904,580
54,119
131,836
11,727,397
1882
3,377,119
44,277
294,207
11,174,573
188.3
3,178,593
62,064
292,433
10,523,920
1881
4,522,702
67,239
323,947
10,984,073
The sources whence the English imports of raw silk,
the commercial names under which they pass, and their
relative importance and values, are exemplified in the
following table, extracted from the annual circulars issued
by Messrs H. W. Eaton & Sons of London : —
Description.
rmports,
1884.
Imports,
■ 1885.
Extreme
Prices during
1885.
Con-
sumption,
including
E.Nport,
1885.
Prices
1st January
1S8G.
China—
T8.-itleo' 1
llainccn, itc. f
Taysaam *..
lb
2,803,572
410,4(1 (!
S39.;i7G
23,154
388,304
126,450
8,750
225
205,610
273,€C0
tt) 3. (1. s. <t.
1,001,436 e 010 14 0
271,116 7 C „ 16 0
15D,328 8 6 „ 12 C
6,936 7 0 „ 11 3
70,560 10 0 .. 15 6
lb
1,225,938
293,064
463,456
17,544
372,176
154,800
7,700
208,220
307,400
f. d. s. d.
0 6 to 14 C
8 0 ,^ 14 6
9 9 „ 13 0
7 0 „ 11 3
12 0 „ 15 6
9 C „ 15 0
19 0 „ 21 0
17 Oto21 0
20 0 „ 24 0
20 0 „ 25 0
114,000
7,876
211,700
810,300
8 0 „ 14 6
19 0 „ 23 0
17 Oto21 0
20 0 „ 24 0
20 0 „ 25 0
Patent Brutla
Italian—
Itaw \
Novl /
Total
4,560,267
2 153 2511
3,057,103
...
In the manufacture of silken fabrics France occupies
the most important position among the nations. Not
only is the whole of the raw silk produced in France
worked up within the country, but a very considerable
proportion of that imported from the Levant and from
Asia passes into the hand.s of the French manufacturers.
In all, between 8,000,000 and 9,000,000 11) of raw silk
are on an average manufactured into various textures in
France. Lyons is the headquarters of the trade, and, if
the surrounding regions be included, cm|)loynient is given
to about 120,000 looms,— 20,000 of which are driven by
power, — principally in the production of dross silks, plain
and figured, and in other heavy silken fabrics, and at St
Eticnne and St Chamond in the ribbon trade. There are
al-so important manufactures of silk at Calais, St Pierre
' The tl^iures relutln^ to T«atlce coniprlso He-reel, Ilangcliow, and Yuun-fa.
' Tile figures relatlnfi to Taysaam coniprlso Tussah.
les Calais (tulles and passementerie), Paris, Nimes, Tours,
Avignon, and Roubaix. Next to France in the extent
and value of manufactures comes Germany, where the
principal scat of the silk trade is at Crefeld, nearly one
half of the whole production of the empire being manu-
factured there. The looms of Crefeld and the district it
controls numbered in 1881 about 33,000, and the trade
was flourishing and expansive. The manufacture of union
velvet.5 is the special feature of the industry, about one
half of the looms being devoted to that textile ; but
Crefeld controls also a large trade in union satins, and
pure silk broad goods and ribbons of all kinds. The
whole value of its trade amounted in 1881 to almost
£4,000,000, one-fourth of which found a market in
England, and about a quarter of a million went to France.
The other principal centres of the silk trade, all in Pihenish
Prussia, are Viersen, Barmen, Elberfeld, and Miihlheim.
Third on the list of Continental producers is Switzerland
where Zurich takes the lead with broad goods (failles
armures, satins, serges,-itc.), and Basel rivals St fitienne in
the ribbon trade. The number of looms throughout the
country is estimated at 40,000, of which 4000 are power-
looms. Italy — the early home of the silk trade, the land
of the gorgeous velvets of Genoa and the damasks and
brocades of mediaeval Sicily, Venice, and Florence — has
fallen from its high estate, and now employs not more
than 30,000 looms, the centre o*' greatest activity being at
Como; but Genoa still makes velvets, and the brocades of
Venice are not a thing of the past. In Austria the silk
trade has found its principal development in Vienna and its
immediate neighbourhood, the number of looms throughout
the entire empire being estimated at from 15,000 to 20,000,
of which 2000 are power-looms. In Russia there' is, with
a growing cultivation of raw silk, a considerable and in-
creasing manufacture, the special feature of which is the
weaving at Moscow of gold and silver tissues and brocades
for sacerdotal use, and for traffic with Central Asia.
In the United Kingdom all the silk indnstries— these depending
on spun silk nlone excepted — have been in a depressed and
declining condition ever since 1860. The principal silk manu-
facturing towns of England have been Coventry, Macclesfield,
Cinglcton, Leek, Derby, London (Spit.alticKls), Manchester,
Middleton, and Nottingham, and it is estimated that at the beet
period not fewer than 150,000 looms found employment in the
trade. In 1872 that number was reduced to 65,000, of which
12,500 wero power-looms. Spitalfields in Iter best days (about
1825) kept 24,000 hand-looms occupied ; now there are not more
than 1200. Manchester once had about 20,000 looms weaving
silk ; now there are not fiflOO so employed. When the French
treaty of 1860 came into operation Coventry had about 9000
looms, principally employed in ribbon weaving ; now not more than
one. fourth of that number arc in operation. The cause of several
of these severe changes is to bo found in the introduction of tho
factory system of working and the extension of power-loom weaving,
which crushed out domestic weaving, the original fornvof tho silk
industry ; but undoubtedly also the English manufacturers were
beaten in the battle of free competition brought on by the P'rench
treaty. On tho other liand, the remarkable development of the
Silk and Silk Goods exported from tlu United Kingdom during the
years ISGO to 1SS4 inclusive.
Knubs or
Thrown Silk.
Silk Manutocturci.
Silk and
Waste.
Drillsh.
ForelKn and
Colonial.
Drltlsh.
Forclfifn and
Colonial.
Tb
Cwts.
£
lb
C
L
I860
3,153,903
1,500
826,107
426,866
1,587.303
224,360
1H65
3,137,292
1,212
767, 058
3(IC.,701
1.401, .381
160,9.10
1870
2,644,402
4,167
1,154,364
8'.i.771
1,4.50,3!I7
166,297
1875
2,551.417
1.779
880,923
87,924
1,734,619
328,420
1876
3,064.726
4.210
1, 080,678
60.202
1,794,565
303,0.54
1877
1,6.VJ,9.15
7,4.'>0
670,999
17,910
1.70 -..163
1878
1,841,505
8,012
665,266
• 40,470
I,922.'.'V1
1871)
1,375,608
6,029
094,736
94,461
1 ,697,209
348,496
18M0
947,165
9,241
683,591
7,653
2,030,6.'.9
359,023
1881
903,997
4,.',2a
1,008,272
6,601
2,504 730
1KK2
916,773
0,941
825,572
B,29l
J,6<)',J76
ias3
524,182
6.210
705,82»
6,696
tr 20.299
340.80J
1884
377,349
0,638
012,051
60,650
>1.u,410
044,723
JCXIL - 9
66
S 1 L— S I L
comparatively new trarle in spun silk goes far to compensate for
the loss of the older trade, and has enabled the exports of silk
manufactures from the country to be at least maintained and to
show some signs of expansion. The spun-silk industry has chiefly
developed in the Yorkshire and Lancashire textile centres, —
Bradford, Halifax, Rochdale, &c. But it is highly significant
that, while the exports of I3ritish silk manufactures have not
decreased, the imports in the meantime have shown a marked
expansion ; and unquestionably, although the use of silken goods
has increased very greatly witliiu twenty-five }-ears, the expansion
of native silk manufactures has not kept pace mth that growth.
Favoured by the operation of protective dutie5 ranging from 50
to 60 per cent, ad valorem, the native raannfacturo of silk in the
United States has been nursed into considerable activity and
-expansion, till now well-nigh one-half o£ the silkeji fabrics used iii
the country are of home manufacture. In 1^60 the proportion (jf
native manufacture was 13 per cent, in 1680 it reached 38 'lei
cent, and in 1882 it was 40 per cent, of the entire consumpt-'on.
Reeled silks are principally manufactured at Paterson and Hobo en.
N. J., and Brooklyn and New York City, N. Y., and the spun silk
industry flourishes at South Manchester and Hartford, Conn.
The, following estimate of the relative importance of thusilk
manufacture of various countries was made in 1883 by Mr
PeLxotto, the United States consul at Lyons :-
France .. §85,000,000
Germany 45,000,000
United States 35,000,000
Great Britain 25,000,000
Switzerland 18,000,000
giving a total of §270,000.000.
Russia 16,000,000
Austria 12,000,000
Italy _.„ 12,000,000
Spain _ 5,000,000
Other countries... ,17,000,000
(J. PA.)
SILLIMAN, Benjajiix (1779-1864), American chemi.st
and geologist, was born in 1779 at Trumbull (then called
North Stratford), Connecticut. His father, Gold Selleck
SiLliman, was brigadier-general in the war of the revo-
lution, and had also held important civil positions. The
history of tlxe family points to an Italian origin, but Daniel
SiUiman, the first to settle in the United States, came from
Holland. Silliman received his early education at Fair-
field, Connecticut, at that time fhe residence of his father's
family, and in 1792 he entered Yale College, where he
graduated in 1796. He then studied law, and was
admitted to the bar in 1802, while a tutor in Yale College,
to which position he had been appointed in 1799. In
1802 a professorship of chemistry and natural history was
■established in the college, and he was at once elected to fill
it. He spent portions of. 1801 and 1802 in Philadelphia
in preparation for his worli, and the year 1804 he spent in
Europe, chiefly in England and Scotland, where he attended
the lectures of Hope and Gregory, and also fcmed the
acquaintance of Davy, Wollaston, Brewster, Leslie, and
other eminent men of science. As a result of this visit he
published A Journal of Travels in EnglamJ, IToKand, and
Scotland, and of Two Passages over the Atlantic in the years
1805 and 1806 (2 vols., 1810), which had a marked success.
In 1813 he began service with the medical department of
Yale College as professor of chemistry and pharmacy, and
continued to give instruction there for many years. In
1818 he founded the American Journal of Science and
Arts, a periodical devoted to the physical sciences, which
has been, and is, the most important American scientific
serial. In 1851 he" made a second journey to Europe, of
which he likewise published an account in two volumes,
edited by his son, who had accompanied him. In 1853 he
became professor emeritus, but he continued to lecture for
a year or two longer. His closing years were quietly spent
in unabated mental activity at New Haven untQ his death
in 1864. Though devoted to scientific pursuits, he inter-
«sted himself in the public movements of the time.
One of Silliman's earliest scientific publications was an account
of the famous meteorite which fell in Weston, Conn., December
14, 1807. This account, which excited great public interest in the
country, was reproduced abroad, and was read before the Royal
Society of London, and also before the French Academy. Among
liis other scientific labours may be mentioned his experiments
upon the fusibility of various substances in the flame of the cora-
Dotmd blowpipe of Hare, then a novelty in science, and upon the
♦aporization and transference of the carbon in the voltaic arc
Trom the positive to the negative pole, which he was the first to
ibserve. He also repeated the experiment by which Gay-Lussao
Uad separated potassium from its hydrate, and obtained the element
3a its metallic form, doubtless for the first time in the United
""Ates. Other professional labours were an exploration of the
coal formations of Pennsylvania in 1830, and an examination of
the gold mines of Virginia in 1836. In 1832 and 1833. by
appoiutraeut of the United States Government, he made a
scientific investigation of the ciUture and mauufaeturo of sugar,
snibod)iug his result'* in a voluminous r-^port published by the
Government. Tliough Silliman published a iai-go number of
scientific papers upon chemical and geological si>bjects, his reputa-
tion was more especially due to the courses of public lectures
which he delivered in the college and in various cities and towns
of the United States. The happy combination of a graceful and
interesting style with unwonted splendour of experimental illus-
tration gave these lectures an unprecedented popularity, and they
exerted a powerful influence in awakening and developing a taste
for scientific matters throughout the country.
/Besides the works already mentioned, Silliman published in 1808 an American
edition of Henry's ChemUtnj, with notes, in 1627 an edition of Bdl(ewell"s GeoJogy,
and in 1830 EUmetits of C/temisrry, in two volumes. An account of his life,
by Prof. Geoige P. Fisher, of Yale College, was published in two volumes .*u
186G.
SILLIMAN, Benjamin (1816-1885), American chemist
and physicist, son of the preceding, was born in 1816 at
New Haven, Connecticut, and educated at Yale College,'
where he graduated in 1837. He then became assistanti
to his father in chemistry, mineralogy, and geology, workA
ing in his' laboratory at the college, and pursuing original
investigations. He began teaching in the laboratory soon;
afterwards. The school thus informally established waa
shortly afterwards recognized by a formal act of the cor-l
poration of the college, and ultimately developed into the
Sheflield Scientific School of Yale College. In 1838 he
became associate editor with his father of the American
Journal of Science and Arts, and he continued in the
editorship of the journal until the close of his life, Prof.i
J. D. Dana (his brother in-law) having joined him in
1846. In the winter of 1845-46 he gave a course of
lectures on agricultural chemistry in New Orleans, which
is believed to have been the first course of lectures upon
that subject ever given in the United States. In 1849 he
was appointed professor of medical chemistry and toxico-
logy in the medical department of Louisville university,
Louisville, Kentucky, which position he held for five years.
In 1854 he succeeded his father as professor of chemistry,
and continued to give instruction in this science, first in
the academical and afterwards in the medical department
of Yale College, until his death in 1885. In 1853 he was
connected.with the exhibition at the Crystal Palace in New
York, having charge of the departments of chemistry,
geology, and mineralogy. As a result of this work he
edited a large quarto volume. The World of Science, Art,
and Industry (1853), followed in 1854 by The Progress
of Science and Mechanism. He also published in 1846
First Principles of Chemistry, a text-book which had a
wide sale and passed through three editions. In 1858
he published a manual of physics entitled First Piinciples
of Physics or Natural Philosophy (2d ed. 1861). In
1864 and again in 1867 and 1872 Silliman visited Cali-
fornia, being engaged in professional work connected with
various mines and in mineralogical and geological ex-
plorations. Still later he made several visits to the
mining regions of the western States and Territories, and
the results of his observations formed the subjects of
numerous scientific papers. In 1874, the centennial anni-
versary of Priestley's discovery of oxygen, he delivered at
Northumberland, Pa., where Priestley had resided during
the later years of his life, an historical address on " Amer-j
S I L— S I L
67
ican Contributions to Chemistry," which he afterwards
expanded into a considerable volume.
SILO. A modern silo is a pit or erection in which
green crops are preserved in an undried condition for
fodder. The term is derived from the Greek a-tpoi (Lat.
sirus), a pit for holding grain. It is only of recent years
that ensilar/e, i.e., the preservation of green food for cattle
by partial fermentation in silos, has become an important
.feature in agricultural economy. In various parts of
Germany a method of preserving green fodder precisely
similar to that used in the case of sauerkraut (see vol. iv.
p. 618) has prevailed for upwards of a century. Special
attention was first directed to the practice of ensilage by
a French agriculturist, M. Auguste Goffart of Sologne
near Orleans, "who in 1877 published a work {Mantiel de
la Culture et de I'Ensilage des Mais et autres Fourrages
Verts) detailing the experiences of many years in preserv-
ing green crops in silos. An English translation of
M. Goffart's book by Mf J. B. Brown was published in
New York in 1879, and, as various experiments had
been previously made in the United States in the way
of preserving green crops in pits, M. Goffart's experi-
ence attracted considerable attention. The conditions
of American dairy farming proved eminently suitable for
the ensiling of green maize fodder ; and the success of the
method was soon indisputably demonstrated among the
New England farmers. The favourable results obtained
in America led to much discussion and to the extensive
introduction of the system in the United Kingdom, where,
with different conditions, success has been more qualified,
but still highly encouraging.
It has been abundantly proved that ensilage forms a
wholesome and nutritious food for cattle. It can be
substituted for root crops w»ith advantage, because it is
succulent and digestible ; milk resulting from it is good in
quality and taste; it can be secured largely irrespective
of weather ; it carries over grass from the period of great
abundance and waste to times when none would other-
wise be available ; and a larger number of cattle can be
supported on a given area by the use of ensilage than is
possible by the use of green crops.
A silo should have a depth of at least 15 feet, and may either be a
pit or a building above ground, provided it is water-tight and, as
far as possible, air-tight. The crops suitable for eHsilage are the
ordinary grasses, clovers, lucerne, vetches, oats, rye, and maize ; but
various weeds may also be stored in silos with good results, notably
spurrey, (A'/^erjufa arvensis), a most troublesome plant in poor light
soils. As a rule the crop should be mown when in full flower, and
deposited in the silo on the day of its cutting. Fail dry weather
is not essential ; but it is found that when moisture, natural and
e.xtraneous, exceeds 75 per cent, of the whole, good results are not
obtained. The material is spread in uniform layers over the floor
of the silo, and closely packed and trodden down. If possible, not
more than a foot or thereby should be added daily, so as to allow the
mass to settle down closely, and to heat unifornlly throughout.
Wlien the silo is quite filled a layer of straw or some other dry
porous substance is spread over the surface, then it is covered with
boards, and a pressure of not less than 100 tb per square foot is
applied by weighting or other mechanical means.
A silo thus contains, to begin with, a mass of living vegetable cells
surrounded with a minimum of oxygen. The activity of the cells
continuing, oxygen is absorbed and carbonic acid evolved, and part of
tlie starch of the plants is converted into sugar. In the atmosiihero
of carbonic acid thus created the acid ferments manifest their
vitality, and acetic, lactic, and butyric acids are developed at the
expense of the starch and sugar. These chemical changes are
accempaniod with an evolution of heat, and the temperature of the
mass rises, till, when it attains 122° Jf'ahr., the action of the ferments
is arrested. Should the heat riso to 150° the vitality of the
vegetable cells themselves is destroyed ; and also whcj? *ho 4vailAbIe
oxygen is exhausted chjmical change ceases "vud sweet silago is
produced. When from excess of moisture or other cause the
temperature of the silo Joes not teach 122" Fahr., the acid ferments
are not killed, and they go on evolving chiefly acetic ond lactic acids,
the results being sour silage. These forricnts, requiring nitrogen
(or their eziatence, act on the nitrogenous constituents of the plants,
rendering the albuminoids partly soluble, evolving pei)tones, and by
furllier splitting up producing amides, urea, and ammouia. The
production of sour silage is accompanied by much gi'catcr trans-
formation and loss than is incident to sweet silage ; and in exiremo
action the material acquires a most disagi-eeable odour. There is,
however, no sharp line of distinction between the two, and both
varieties are eaten freely by stock. Frequently a considerable loss
occurs around the edges, and at other points where air gets access
to the mass, by mildewing. See Report of Select Committee.
SILURID^, a large family of freshwater Fishes,
flourishing in the present epoch, and represented by a
great variety of forms in all the tropical and temperate
regions, many of them reaching back into the Tertiary
age. The principal characters of this family (termed a
"suborder" by some), its position in the system, its
geographical distribution, and some of the most remark-
able points in the structure and life-history of its members
have been already sufBciently noticed under Ichtuyology,
but we have here to notice more fully the sections into
which it has been divided, and certain remarkable forms
which were referred to nominally only in that article.
The modifications of the vertical fins, or rather the
specialization of certain portions at the expense of others,
and the greater or less extent of the branchial apertuce
form excellent characters for subdividing the Siluroids.
I. In the Siluridsi Homalopterx the vertical fins are
exceedingly long, occupying nearly the whole extent of the
embryonal fin, and in one genus {Heterohranchus) a great
part of the dorsal portion retains its embryonic character,
being arayless adipose fin. All the Siluroids of this section
belong to the fauna of the Old World and Australia. The
rivers and lakes of tropical Africa harbour many species of
the genera Clarias and Ueterobraiichus, — those of the Nile
being known under the name of " Carmoot." One of the
Nilotic species, Clarias macracant/ms, occurs abundantly in
the Lake of Galilee, and, being a long, scaleless, eel-lika
fish of black colour, with eight long barbels round its
broad mouth, was certainly included among those which
the Jews were forbidden to eat by th& Mosaic law. These
fish grow to a length of from 4 to 6 feet, and are eaten
by the natives of tropical Africa.
II. In the Siluridse Heteropteree the dorsal fin has almost
or entirely disappeared ; only its foremost portion and a
small adipose remnant may be preserved ; on the other hand
the anal portion is retained in its whole extent. The gill-
membranes remain separate and overlap the isthmus. This
section likewise belongs to the fauna of the Old World, and
includes, among many others, the species which has given
the name to the whole family Silurus glanis, the " Wels "
Fio. 1.— The '■ Wcls " {Silurus glanU).
of the Germans. It is the only representative of the faaiiiy
in Europe, and with the exception of tho sturgeon, is the
largest freshwater iisUof the Continent. It was known to
Ar:stoUe, who described it under tho name of Glanis. It
inhabits more the central and eastern portions of Europe
than the western, being absent in Italy, Greece, southern
Switzerland, France, and those parts of Germany which are
drained by the Rhino and its affluents. In general appear-
ance it somewhat resembles the burbot. Its bead is largo
68
S I L U R I D iE
and broad, its mouth wide, furnished with six barDeis, of
which those of the upper jaw are very long. Both jaws
and the palate are armed with broad bands pf small closely-
set teeth, which give the bones a rasp-like appearance. The
eyes are exceedingly small The short body- terminates in
a long, compressed, muscular tail, and the whole fish is
covered with a smooth, scaleless, slippery skin. Specimens
of 4 and 5 feet in length, and of -50 to 80 ft in weight,
are of common occurrence. Its food consists chiefly of
other bottom-feeding fishes, and in inland countries it is
considered one of the better class of food fishes. Stories
about children having been found in the stomach of very
large individuals are probably inventions.
III. The Silurida! Anomalopierx are a small section from
tropical America, in which the dorsal and adipose fins are
very short and belong to the caudal vertebral column, while
the anal is very long, and the gill-membranes are entirely
separate, overlapping the isthmus.
IV. The Siluridx Proteroplerx are a section extremely
numerous in species, and represented throughout the
tropics. The dorsal fin consists of a short-rayed and an
adipose portion, the former belonging to the abdominal
vertebral column ; the anal is always much shorter than
the tail. The gill-membranes are not confluent with the
skin of the isthmus ; t|jey have a free posterior margin.
When a' nasal barbel is present, it belongs to the posterior
nostril. This section includes among many others the
genus Bagnis, of which the "Bayad" {B. bayad) and
" Docmac " {B. docmac) frequently come under the notice
of travellers on the Nile ; they grow to a length of 5 feet,
and are eaten. Of the " Cat-Fishes " of North America
{Amiunis), locally called "bull-heads" or "horned-pouts,"
with eight barbels, some twenty species are known. Some
of them are valued as food, especially one which is
abundant in the ponds of New England, and capable of
easy introduction into other localities {A. nebulosus).
Others which inhabit the great lakes (A. iiigrkans)
and the Mississippi (.^4. ponderosm) often exceed the
weight of 100 lb. Platijstcma and Pimelodus people the
rivers and lakes of tropical America, and many of them
are conspicuous in this fauna by the ornamentation of
their body, by long spatulate snouts, and by their great
size. The genus Arius- is composed of the greatest
number of species (about seventy), and has the widest
distribution' of all Siluroids, being represented in almost
all tropical -countries which are drained by large rivers.
Some of the species enter salt water. They possess six
barbels, and their head is extensively osseous on its upper
surface ; their dorsal and pectoral spines are generally
developed into powerful weapons. Bagarius, one of the
largest Siluroids of the rivers of India and Java, ex-
ceeding a length of 6 feet, differs from Arius in having
eight barbels, and' the head covered with skin.
v. In the Siluridx Slenobranchix the dorsal fin consists
of an adipose portion and a short-rayed fin which belongs
to the abdominal vertebral column, and, like the adipose
fin, may be sometimes absent. The gill-membranes are
confluent' with the skin of the isthmus. The Siluroids
belonging to this section are either South-American or
African. Among the former we notice specially the genus
Boras, which is distinguished by having a series of bony
scutes along the middle of the side. The narrowness of
their gill-openings appears to have developed in them a
habit which has excited the attention of all naturalists
who have visited the countries bordering upon the Atlantic
rivers of tropical America, viz., the habit of travelling
during seasons of drought from a piece of water about to
dry up to ponds of greater capacity. These journeys are
occasionally of such a length that the fish have to travel
all nifcht ; they are so numerous that the Indians fill
many baskets of them. Hancock supposes that the fish
carry a small supply of water with them in their gill-cavity,
which they can easily retain by closing their bianchial
apertures. The same naturalist adds that they make
regular nests, in which they cover up their eggs with care
and defend them,— male and female uniting in this
parental duty until the eggs are hatched. Synndonlis is
Fig. 2. — SynodontU xiphias.
an African genus and common in the Nile, where the
various species are known by the name of " Shal." They
frequently occur among the representations of animals
left by the ancient Egyptians. The upper part of their
head is protected by strong osseous scutes, and both the
dorsal and pectoral fins are armed with powerful spines.
Their mouth is small, surrounded by six barbels, which are
more or less fringed with a membrane or with branched
tentacles. Finally, the Electric Cat- or Sheath-Fishes
(Ilalaplerurus) also belong to this section. Externally
Fio. 3. — Malapterurus etectricuf.
they are at once recognized by the absence of a rayed
dorsal fin, of which only a rudiment remains' as a small
interneural spine concealed below the skin. The entire
fish is covered with soft skin, an osseous defensive armour
having become unnecessary in consequence of the develop-
ment of a powerful electric apparatus, the strength of
which, however, is. exceeded by that of the electric eel
and the large species of Torpedo. It has been'noticed in
vol. xii. p. 650. Three species have been described from
rivers of tropical Africa, of which one (31. eleciricus) occurs
in the Nile ; it rarely reaches a length of 4 feet.
VI. The section of Siluridx Proteropod(s contains small
forms, some of which are of interest by the degree of
specializatjon to which they have attained in one or tho
other direction. Many of them are completely mailed;
but all have in common a short-rayed dorsal fin, with the
ventrals below or rarely in front of it. Their gill-openings
are reduced to a short slit ; their pectorals and ventrals
have assumed a horizontal position ; and their vent is
before, or not much behind, the middle of the length of
the body. The first group of this section comprises
alpine forms of the Andes, without any armature, and with
a very broad and pendent lower lip. They have beea
referred to several genera {Stygogeiies, Arges, Brontes,
Astroplehus), but are collectively called " preuadillas " by
the natives, who state that they live in subterranean
craters within the bowels of the volcanoe.s of the Andes,
and are ejected with streams of mud and water during
eruptions. These fishes may, however, be found in sur-
face waters at all times, and their appearance in great
quantities in the low country during volcanic eruptions
can be accounted for by numbers being killed by the
salphuretted gases which escape during an eruption and
S I L — S I L
69
by their being swept do'wn vith tho torrents of water
liiaiug^from the volcano. " The Towlandl forms have tl:eir
body encased in large "scutes, either rough, scale-like, and
arranged in four or five series (C/urtostomus), or polished,
forming broad ntgs round the slender
and depressed tail {Loricaria, fig. 4), or
polished and large, so as to form two
series only along the body and short tail
(CallidUhyg; &g. 0). In India this sec-
V
tion is
streams.
Fig. 4. — Loricaria lanceoJala^ from the upper Amazons. Natural
but sparsely represented, chiefly in mountain-
by small loach-like Siluroids, in -which various
kinds of peculiar apparatus are dcveloued to enable them to
hold on to stones, this preventing
their being swept away by the
current ; in Pseudechcneis the
adhesive apparatus consists of
transverse plaits of the skin on
the thorax between the pectoral
fins; in Ex-
cstoma the
mouth
Fig. C. — 'Callichthj/s armaiiis, from the upper Amazons.
Natural size.
modified in-
to a sucto-
rial organ,
probably
.with the
same func-
tion. Finally, the South-American genus Aspredo, which is
remarkable for tlio peculiar mode of protecting its eggs, as
mentioned in vol. xiL p. 6G0, belongs also to this section. .
VII. The small section of Siluridx Opis(ho])terx com-
prises South-American forms, the majority of which
inhabit waters at high altitudes up to 14,000 feet above
the level of the sea. All have a short-rayed dorsal fin,
placed above or behind the middle of the length of the
body, above or behind the ventrals, which may bo absent.
Also the anal is short. The nostrils are remote from
each other, and the gill-membranes arc not confluent with
the skin of the isthmus. These little fishes, of which
Trichomi/cterus and Nemaiogcnys are the princi[ial genera,
replace in the Andes the loaches of the northern hemi-
sphere; they resemble tlicm in appearance and habits,
and even in coloration, ofreiing a striking illustration of
the fart that similar forms of animals are produced under
similar external physical conditions.
VIIL Finally, the Siluridm BrancMcols, comprise the
smallest and lea.st developed members of the family J
they are referred to two genera only from South America,
Steyophilus and Vamhltia, the smallest of which does not
exceed the length of 2 inches. Their body
is soft, narrow, cylindrical, and elongate;
the dorsal and anal fins short ; the vent far
behind the middle of the length of the body ;
gill-membranes confluent with the skin of the
isthmus. Each maxillary is provided with a
small barbel ; and the gill-covers are armed
with short stiff spines. Their small size not-
withstanding, these Siluroids are well known
to the Brazilians, who accuse them of entering
and ascending the urethra of persons while
bathing, causing inflammation and sometimes
death. They certainly live parasitically in the
gill-cavity of large Siluroids,. probably enter-
ing those cavities for places of safety, but
without drawing any nourishment from their
hosts. (a. c. g.)
SILVANUS, an ancient Italian god of
the woods {silvx), closely allied to Faunus.
Virgil speaks of him as a god of fields and
cattle, and says that the Pelasgians dedicated
a grove to him near Caere. Horace calls him
the god of boundaries. Pigs were sacrificed
to him, and at harvest festivals he received
offerings of piilk. He appears sometimes,
especially in inscriptions, as a domestic god,
and is occasionally associated with the Lares
and Penates. Virgil describes him as crowned
with fennel and lilies or carrying an uprooted
cypress in his hand. On a relief he appears
wiA a crown of pine branches in his hair, a pine branch
in his left hand, a skin filled with fruits hanging about
his neck, a pruning-knife in his right hand, and a dog by
his side. On votive tablets he is oftener represented as
the god of planting and gardening than as the rough
woodland deity.
SILVEPJ is widely diffused throughout the earth's
crust, including the ocean, which contains a trace of
the noble metal — minute, it is true, in a relative sense,
but in ahsolute amount approaching 10,000 million tons.
Of the varieties of silver ores, the following chiefly are
metallurgically important: — (1) Regidine Silver, generally
alloyed with mercury or gold, and if with the latter
including sometimes a trace of platinum ; (2) Uom Silver,
native chloride, AgCl ; (3) Silver Glance, native sulphide,
Ag,S ; (4) Silver-Copper Glance, (Ag,Cu).,S; (5) Pyrargyr-
ite (" Kothgultigerz "), Ag5SbS3 ; (6) Stephanite, Ag,,SbS^ ;
(7) Polyhasite, 9(Ag2,Cu2)S-(-(Sb.,As.)S3. Silver 'is also
frequently met with in base-metallic ores, e.g., in lead
ores and many kinds of pyrites. Unmixed silver minerals
nowhere present themselves in large continuous masses.
What wo call " silver ores " are all more or less complex
mixtures in which the non-argentiferous components are
usually decidedly in the majority. Their metallurgic' treat-
ment depends chiefly on the nature of these admixtures,
the state of combination of the silver being as a rule irre-
levant in the choice of a process, because some at least of
the noble metal is always present as sulphide, and our
modes of treatment for it include all other native forms.
Amalgamation. — If a given ore is relatively free of
base " metals " (metallurgically speaking), some process of
" amalgamation " may be, and often is, resorted to.
Ill tbo Freiberg process tlio fust stop b to roast tho (prouiid)
010 witli common salt, wliicli couvorts tlio suliihidc of silver into
• C mpiiro CUKMIBIUY, vol.
and Money.
V. p. 628-630 ; ako Mi.vino, Mint,
70
SILVER
cMoride (Ag,S + 2:sraCl + 40 from the air=2AgCl + N'a;S04). The
mass, along witli coitLiiii [iioportions of water, scrap-iron, and
mercury, is placed in bar'-els, which are then made to rotate about
their axes so that the several ingredients are forced into con-
stantly varying contact with c-e. another. The salt solution
takes up a small proiiortiou of chloride, which in this (dissolved)
form is quickly reduced by the iron to tire metallic state
(2AgCI-fFe = FeCU-f-2Ag), so. that there is, so to say, room made
in the brine for another instalment of chloride of silver, which is
reduced in its turn, and so on to the end, — the metal formed
uniting with the mercury into a semi-fluid amalgam. Of this the
bulk at least readily unites into larger continuous masses, which,
en account of their high specific gravity, are easily separated
from tlie dross mechanically. Tlie amalgam is pressed in linen
bags to eliminate a quantity of relatively silver-free liquid mercury
(this of course is utilized as such in subsequent operations), and the
remaining solid amalgam is subjected to distillation from iron re-
torts, whereby its mercury is recovered as a distillate while a more or
less impure silver remains in the retort. This process, after having
been long wrought in Freiberg with great success, is now super-
seded there by tlie Augustiu method (see below), but it survives
in some other places, as, for e.\ample, the AVashoe or Conistock
district in the Sierra Nevada (United States). It is not used in
Chili, Peru, and Me.'cico because of the scarcity of fuel.
The Mexican process, though far less perfect than that of Freiberg,
evades this difficulty. It was tried for the first time, if not
actually invented, by Bartolomeo de Medina in 1557. It was
adopted in Mexico in 1566 and in Peru in 1574, and is in use in
both countries and in Chili to this day. The stamped ore is
ground into a fine paste with water ; this paste, after having been
allowed to dry up a little in air, is placed on a stone floor along
•with a quantity of salt, and the two are trodden together by
mules. On the following day there are added certain proportions
of "magistral" (a kind of crude ' sulphate of copper made by
roasting copper pyrites) and of mercury, and the mules are kept
going until the silver is as lar as possible converted into amalgam,
which takes from fifteen to forty-five days. The rationale of the
process is not quite understood. According to Boussingault, the
cupric chloride (formed by the salt from the sulphate) chlorinates
part of the sulphide of silver, thus —
2CuCl„ + Ag„S = 2 AgCl -(- S -I- CujClj ,
and the cuprous chloride formed acts upon another portion of
sulphide of silver, thus —
CujClj -1- AgjS = 2AgCl + CujS,
and in this way all the sulphide of silver is gradually converted
into chloride. The chloride is reduced to the metallic state by the
mercury (AgCl-^Hg = HgCl-l-Ag) with formation of calomel, the
metallic silver uniting with the surplus mercury into amalgam.
The calomel is allowed to go to waste.
The Augustin process of silver extraction is only a peculiar mode
of metallifying and collecting the silver of an ore after it has
been by some preliminary operation converted into chloride or
sulphate. Either salt is brought into solution — the chloride by
means of hot brine, the sulphate by means of hot water, acidified
with oil of vitriol ; the solution is separated from the insolubles,
and made to filter through a bed of precipitated copper. The
copper reduces the silver to metal, which remains on the bed as a
spongy mass, while an equivalent quantity of copper chloride (or
sulphate) pjasses through as a solution. The silver sponge is col-
lected, freed from adhering copper by muriatic acid in contact
with air, and then sent to the furnace. From the copper liquor
that metal is precijiitated in its original form by means of iron.
The silver furnished by any of these metliods is never pure, even
in the commercial sense. A general method for its purification is
to fuse it up with lead and subject the alloy to cupellation (see
Lead, vol. xiv. p. 37G). Cupel-silver is apt to contain small
quantities of lead (chiefly), bismuth, antimony, copper, and more
or less of gold, of which metals, however, only the first three are
reckoned "contaminations" by the metallurgist. They can be
removed by a supplementary cupellation, without added lead, at a
high temperature. Addition of lead would remove the copper
likewise, but it is usually allowed to remain and the alloy sent out
as cu]iriferous silver, to be alloyed with more copper and thus con-
verted 'nto some kind of commercial "silver"" (see below). If gold
is present to the extent of O'l per cent, or more, it is recovered by
treatment of the metal with nitric acid or boiling vitriol. The
gold in either case remains as such ; the silver becomes nitrate or
sulphate, and from the solution of either salt is recovered by
precipitation with metallic copper. Although nitric acid is the
more expensive of the two parting agents, it is often now preferred
because photography has created a large demand for nitrate of
silver. Compare Gold, vol. x. p. 749.
For the " incidental " extraction of silver from essentially
base-metallic ores the method in the case of all lead
ores is simply to proceed as if only lead were present,
and from the argentiferous lead produced to extract the
noble metal by one of the processes described under Leai>
(vol. xiv. p. 376-7), while for the treatment of sulphureous
copper ores ouc method is so to smelt the ore (with, if neces-
sary, an addition of galena or some form of oxide of lead)
as to produce a regulus of lead and a " mat " of sulphide
of copper, (CuoS), which latter should contain as littla
lead as possible. The silver follows chiefly the lead, and
is extracted from it by cupellation ; but some silver
remains in general even with a lead-free mat. Compare
account of the Lautenbach process under Lead.
A modern mode of extracting the silver from a copper mat is to
roast it at a very low temperature, so as to produce a relatively
large proportion of metallic sulphate, and then to destroy the bulk
of the sulphate of copper by a judiciously-regulated higher tem-
perature. The silver all remains as sulphate, which is extracted
by hot dilute sulphuric acid and wrought by the Augustin method.
Very interesting is the. process which was patented by Claudet
for the remunerative extraction cf the few hundredths of a per cent,
of silver contained in that kind of cupriferous iron pyrites which
is now used, almost exclusively, for the making of v"itriol. The
"cinders," as returned by the vitriol maker, arc habitually worked
up for copper by roasting them with salt and ILxiviating the
roasted mass with water, when the copper dissolves as chloride,
CuXl, and CuCU. The sih'er goes with it, but for its precipita-
tion no method was known until Field found that silver dissolved
as AgCl in a chloride solution can be precipitated exhaustively by
addition of the calculated proportion of a soluble iodide, as Agl.
Claudet's process is only an adaptation of Field's discovery. After
having diluted the copper liquor \vith a certain proportion of water
he adds the weight of iodine, calculated from the assay, as solution
of iodide of zinc, which produces a very impure precipitate of iodide
of silver. From it he re-extracts the iodine, by treatment with
zinc and dilute sulphuric acid, as iodide of zinc, which is used over
again. The "silver precipitate," which now contains its silver as
metal mixed with a large quantity of (chiefly) sulphate of load,
goes to the metal-refiner, who treats it as a lead ore.
Chemically Pure Silver. — Even the best " fine " silver of
commerce contains a few thousandth-parts of copper or other
base metal. To produce perfectly pure metal the most
popular method is to first prepare pure chloride (by apply-
ing the method given below under " Chloride " to a nitric
solution of any kind of ordinary "silver"), and then to
reduce the chloride to metal, which can be done in a great
variety of ways. One way is to mix the dry chloride
intimately with one-fifth of its weight of pure quicklime
or one-third of its weight of dry carbonate of soda, and to
fuse down the mixture in a fire-clay crucible at a bright
red heat. In either case we obtain a regulus of silver
lying under a fused slag of chloride — 2AgCl + (CaO or
Na.COj) = 2Ag -I- (CaCl. -f O or 2NaCl 4- CO, -1- O) The
fused metal is best granulated by pouring it from a suffi-
cient height, and as a thin stream, into a mass of cold
water. A convenient wet-way method for small quantities
is to boil the recently precipitated chloride (which must
have been produced and washed in the cold) with caustic
soda-ley and just enough of sugar to take away the
oxygen of the Ag.,0 transitorily produced. The silver in
this case is obtained as a yellowish-grey heavy povrder,
which is easily washed by decantation ; but it tends to
retain unreduced chloride, which can be removed only by
fusion with carbonate of soda.
Stas recommends the following process as yielding a metal which
comes nearer ideal purity. Slightly cupriferous silver is made into
dry nitrate and the latter fused to reduce any platinum nitrate that
may be present to metal. The fused mass is taken up in dilute
ammonia and diluted to about fifty times the weight of the silver
it contains. The filtered (blae) solution is now mixed with an ex-
cess of solntion of sulphite of ammonia, S03(NHj)2, and allowed to
stand. After twenty-four hours about one-half of the silver has
separated out in crystals ; from the mother-liquor the rest comes
down promptly on application of a water-bath heat. The rationale
of the process is that the sulphite hardly acts upon the dissolved
oxide of silver, but it reduces some of the oxide of copper, 2CuO,
to CujO, with formation of sulphate S0j(NH4)j. This CujO deoxi-
dizes its equivalent of Ag-O, forming Ag+Cu^Oj, which latter is
reduced by the stock of sulphite and reconverted into CujO which
now acts upon a fresh equivalent of Ag,0 ; and so on to the end.
SILVER
71
X^Pure silver (ingot) has a beautiful white colour and
lustre ; it is almost as plastic as pure gold, and, like it,
very -soft. It does not tarnish in natural air; but in air
tontaniinated with ever so little sulphuictted hydrogen it
gradually draws a black film of sulphide. The specific
gravity of the frozen metal is 10-42 to 10-51, rising to
10'57 after compression under a die. It is the best con-
ductor of heat and electricity. The expansion of unit
length from 0° to 100° C. is 0001 936 (Fizeau). The
specific heat is 0-0570 (Regnault), 0-0559 (Bunsen). It
fuses at 954° C. (Violle) — i.e., far below the fusing point
of copper or gold — without oxidation, unless it be in con-
tact with a surface of silicate (porcelain glaze, &c.), when
a trace of silicate of AgoO is produced. It volatilizes
appreciably at a full red heat; in the oxyhydrogen flame
it boils, with formation of a blue vapour. The fused
metal readily absorbs oxygen gas (under fused nitre as
much as twentj' times its volume — Gay-Lussac). When
the oxygenated metal freezes the absorbed gas goe.^ off
suddenly at the temperature of solidification, and, by
forcing its way through the solid crust produces volcanic
eruptions of metal which are sometimes very beautiful.
The presence of even very little base metal in the silver
prevents this "spitting," the base metal combining with
the oxygen faster than it can be reabsorbed. Pure silver
retains a trace of the absorbed oxygen permanently, and
Dumas in an experiment on one kilogramme of metal
extracted from it 82 milligrammes of oxygen in an ab-
solute vacuum at 400°-500° C. ^Water, and ordinary
non-oxidizing aqueous acids generally, do not attack silver
in the least, hydrochloric acid excepted,-^— which,, in the
presence of air, dissolves the metal very slowly as chloride.
A solution of common salt acts similarly, the liberated
sodium becoming NaOH. Aqueous hydriodic acid, even
in the absence of air, dissolves silver perceptibly, with
evolution of hydrogen (Deville). Aqueous nitric acid dis-
solves the metal readily as nitrate ; hot vitriol converts it
into a magma of crystalline sulphate, with evolution of
sulphurous acid. Silver is absolutely proof against the
action of caustic alkali leys, and almost so against that of
fused caustic alkalies even in the presence of air. It
ranks in this respect next to gold, and is much used to
make ve.ssels for chemical operations involving the use of
fused caustic potash or soda. The ordinary " fine " metal
is good enough for this purpose.
SiLVEK Allots. — Pure silver 13 too soft to make durable coins or
vessels comljining lightness with stability of form. This defect
can be cured by, alloying it with a little copper. All ordinary
"silver" articles consist of such alloys. The pruiwrtinn of silver
in these (their "fineness") is habitually stated ui paits of real
silver per 1000 parts of alloy. In Great Britain all silver coins
are made of "standard silver," the fineness of which, by legal
definition, is 925. The toleration is i units (of pure silver in 1000
of alloy), i.e., a specimen passes as long as its fineness lies between
925 and 921 (compare MiNr, vol. xvi. p. 483). As regards silver-
plate the "Hall' in London refuses to stamp any ]ioorcr alloy.
In Germany and in the United States all silver coins, in France
and Austria the major silver coins, are of the fineness 900, with
a toleration of 3 units. The minor coins of Austria are of the fine-
ness 375 to 520; in France all silver coins under one franc contain
835 of silver, 93 of copper, and 72 of zinc in 1000 parts. The
fineness prescribed by law or custom tor "silver" articles is 950 or
800 (±5) in France, 750 in North Germany, 812-5 in South Ger-
many, and 820 in Austria. All these alloys at least are liable to
" liriuation," which means that, although tliey are perfectly homo-
geneous in the crucible, they freeze into layers of not absolutely
the same composition. According to Leval, passing from the skin
to the core of an ingot of 900 per millo silver the ditlcrcnco may
amount to 3 units. Of all the alloys tried by that chemist only
that composed according to the formula AgjCiig, corresponding to
719 per millo of silver, remained perfectly homogeneous on freez-
ing. He therefore recommends thij alloy for coinage; unfor-
tunately, however, any silver-copper alloy which cont:iins less than
about 760 per mille of noble metal tarnishes very perceptibly in
the air. liritish standard silver is quite free of this defect, but it
is inconveniently soft, far softer 'than the " 900 " alloy. •
The extent to which the properties of silver are modified by
addition of copper depends on the fineness of the alloy produccif.
The addition of even tluec pai ts of copper to one of silver does not
quite obliterate the whiteness of the noble metal. According to
Kaniarsch the relative abrasion suffered by silver coins of the
degrees of fineness named is as follows : —
Fineness 312 750 900 993
Abrasion 1 2-3 39 9-5
The same observer established the following relation between fine-
ness p and specific gravity in coins' containing from 375 to 875 of
silver per 1000 :— sp. gr. -0-001647;) -I-8-833.
The fusing points of all copper-silver alloys lies below that of
pure copper; that of 13ritish standard silver is lower than even
that of jniie silver. For the alloys of silver with other metals than
copper, sec GuLn, Platini'm, and Nickki.. The present writer
has introduced an alloy of 91 of silver; 7 of gold, and 2 of nickel
as a material far superior, on account of its higher rigidity, to fine
silver for the making of alkali-proof vessels.
"Oxidized" silver is ordinary cupriferous silver superficially
modified by immersion into sulphide of sodium solution (which
produces a dark film of sulphide), or otherwise.
Silvering. — For the production of a silver coating on a Kise-
mctallic object we have chiefiy two methods. One of these is to
dissolve silver in mercury and to apply this amalgam to the (care-
fully cleaned) surface of the object by means of a bi'ish. The
mercury then is driven away by heat, when a coherent film of silver
remains, wdiich adheres very firmly, is quite continuous, and needs
not be thick to stand polishing and other surface treatment. This
very old method is to this day the best for producing a strong
coating, but it is dangerous to the health of tlie workmen, expen-
sive, and troublesome, and has been almost superseded by the
modern process of electroplnttng (see Electko-JIf.tallurgy, vol..
viii, p. iltj). Objects made of iron or steel must fijst be coated over
with copper, and then treated as if they consisted oi that metal
For Glnss-Silvering, see lIlRHOE, vol. xvi. p. 500.
Inscriptions on linen, consisting of black metallic silver and
consequently proof against all ordinary processes of washing, can
be produced by using suitably-contrived silver solutions as inks.
A mere solution of nitrate of silver (1 to 8 of water)' will do, it
the surface to which it is applied has been ]ircpared by impregna-
tion with a solution of 6 parts of sodi crystals and 17 of gum
arable in 30 of water, and subsequent ironing. The ink must be
applied with a quill or gold pen (compare vol. xiii. p. Si).
Silver Co.mpounds. — (1) Nitrate of Silver (AgtiO,) is made by
dissolving fine s'lver in a moderate excess of nitric acid of 1 -2 sp.
gr,, applying heat at the end. The solution on cooling deposits
crystals — very readily if somewhat strongly acid. Even a slightly
cupriferous solution deposits pure or almost pure crystals. Any
admixture of copper in these can be removed by fusing the dry
crystals, wlien the copper salt only is reduced to black oxide of
copper insoluble in water and thus removable, or by boiling the
solution with a little pure oxide of silver (Ag;0), which piecipitates-
tho CuO and takes its place. Nitrate of silver forms colourless
transparent sonorous plates, which, if free of organic matter, remain
unchanged in the light, — which agent readily produces black me-
tallic silver if organic matter be in contact with the salt or its
solution. One hundred par's of water dissolve, of nitrate or silver —
at 0° 11° 19°-5 110° C.
121-9 127-7 227 1111 parts.
The solution is neutral to litmus. The salt dissolves in 4 parts of
cold alcohol. Nitrate ef silver fuses at 198° C. into a thin colour-
less liquid, which siands even higher temperatures without decom-
position. At a red heat it is reduced to metal. The fused salt,
cast into the form of quill-sized sticks, is used in surgery as a.
cauterizing agent (" laps infcrnalis," or Ulnar caustic). Thesticks
gain in firmness if alloyed with a little nitrate of potash.
(2) Sulphate of .S'/Zuc'r (Ag.SO^l forms white crystals soluble in
200 parts of cold or 68 of boiling water, but more soluble in diluto
sulphuric acid. It stands a red heat without decomposition.
(3) Oxide of Silver (Ag„0) appears ns a dark-brown precipitate
when a solution of the nitrate is mixed with excess of caustic
potash or — preferably for prej^arative purposes — barvta water. It
is slightly soluble i:i water, forming a very decideilly alkaline
(to litmus) solution, behaving as if it contained the (unknown)
AgOU. It seems to 'sull'er reduction in the light In hydrogen
it loses its oxygen at 100° C. (Wohler), in air from about 250" C.
upwards. Solutions of numerous organic substances and other
agents reduce oxide of silver, more or less readily, to metal.
Kilter produced what he took to be a jvreaide of silver by dccom-
jiosing a solution of the nitrate galvanically, in llie form of black
metallically lustrous crystals, which gathered ut the positive pole.
At 110° C. these decoini.ose almost explosively, with evolution of
tlie 1277 percent, of oxygen demanded by Ag.,Oj ; yet according
to Bcrtbelottlie crystals are 4 AK.,Oj.At;NO,-t-2H30. But a liydrata,
of Ag^O, is got by the action of peroxide of hydrogen on Ag,0
1 rrc(«rably blackened for Thiblllty iiy .JncorportUon of some Ctilneso l&X
(carbon).
72
SILVER
(4) Chloride of Silver {AgC\) comes down as a pvecipitato vlien
solutions of silver snits ai-e mixed with solutions of chlorides
(for preparative purposes AgN03 with HCl, which is preferable to
NaCl). The mixture at first lias the appearance of a milk, but on
being violently shaken it divides into a curdy, heavy, easily
settling precipitate and a clear solution, — more readily if the
co-reagents are exactly balanced or the silver is in excess than
when the precipitant predominates. Chloride of silver is as good
as insoluble in water, but hydrochloric acid, and chloride solu-
tions generally, dissolve it perceptibly. In dihite sulphuric and
iiitric acids it is as insoluble as in plain water. Even boiling oil
of vitriol attacks it only very slowly. It is readily soluble in
ammonia solution and reprecipitated therefrom on acidification.
It ilissolves in aqueous tliiosulpliate of soda, Nn;S^03, forming the
very stable salt NaAg.SjOj, and in cyanide of potassium .solution,
forming IvAg. (NC),. From either solution the silver is conven-
iently recoverable only by sulphuretted hydrogen or sulphide of
ammonium as an Ag„S precipitate. Chloride of silver fuses at
260° C. into a yellowish liquid, freezing into a transparent, almost
'colourless, glass of horn-like consistence (hence the name "horn-
silver"). The specific gravity of frozen AgCl is 5'45 (Karsten). It
remains undecomposed, but volatilizes appreciably at a red heat.
Hydrogen at a dujl red heat reduces it to metal. A similar reduc-
tion is effected in even the compact chloride by contact with zinc,
water, and a little dilute sulphuric acid ; the reduction, however,
proceeds rather slowly and, is rarely quite complete. Unfuscd
chloride of silver, when exposed to sunlight, becomes at first violet,
then darker and darker, and at last black, through progressive de-
clilorination. Yet even the black final product, according to
Bibra, yields up no silver to hot nitric acid.
(5) Bromide of Silver (AgBr) closely resembles the chloride.
The reduction on insolation is prevented by the presence of a trace
of free bromine and promoted by that of nitrate of silver. Chlorine
converts the hot fused salt into chloride.
(6) Iodide of Silver (Agl), while similar on the whole to the
other two haloids, presents marked peculiarities. As formed by
precipitation it is distinctly yellow ; it is insoluble in, but decol-
orized by, ammonia ; it is less soluble in water and dilute nitric
acicl or other nitrate solutions than even the bromide, this latter
exceeding in this sense the chloride. But boiling oil of vitriol
decomposes it slowly, with elimination of iodine vapours and forma-
tion of sulphate. Hydrogen at a red heat does not act upon it;
nor is it at all easily decomposed by zinc and dilute acid. Pre-
cipitated iodide of silver is char.acteristieally soluble in solutions
of alkaline iodides and in those of nitrate of silver, with forma-
tion of double salts, which, however, are all decomposed, more
or less completely, by addition of much water. Pure iodide
of silver, even if recently precipitated, is not changed by sun-
light, but if contaminated with nitrate of silver it readily blackens.
For action of light on silver haloids, see Photography.
Analysts. — In a solution of salts derived from purely oxygenated
acids the least trace of silver can be detected by hydrochloric
ncid, which precipitates the silver as chloride (see above). The
^irecipitate, when produced in a possibly complex solution, may
include the chlorides of lead (PbCl) and mercurosum (Hg„CU).
Repeated treatment of the (washed) precipitate with boiling water
ci'tracts the lead chloride ; then by pouring ammonia on the
p.iecipitate we convert the Hg.jCl, into an insoluble black body,
•while the chloride of silver dissolves and, from the filtrate, can be
precipitated by acidification. For the quantitative determination
of silver, the ordinary laboratory method is .to bring the metal into
solution as nitrate and then to throw it down as pure chloride. The
chloride is washed, collected, dehydrated by fusion, and weighed.
According to Stas, if O-^ie, Ag=107-93 and Cl = 35-454; hence
the chloride contains 075273 of its weight of metal.
The nssai/inc/ of silver ores is done preferably in the "dry way ";
in fact relatively poor ores cannot be assayed satisfactorily in
any other. The general method with sulphureous ores is to
mix them, as powders, with (silver-free) oxide of lead and tartar,
and fuse in a clay or graphite crucible. The regulus includes
all the silver. The fuse is poured into a conical mould of cast-
iron, when the metal goes to the bottom of the mould ; the ingot,
after cooling, is easily separated from the adhering slag. The
slag-free regulus is then placed in a little cupel made out of com-
pressed bone-ash, and is heated in a muffle to redness and kept at
this temperature in tlie current of air which pervades the muffle
in virtue of its disposition in the furnace until all the lead a..d
hasc metals generally have been sucked up by the porous cupel.
The remaining "button" of metal is weighed, which gives the
conjoint weight of the silver and gold, which latter metal is rarely
absent. For its determination the button is rolled out into a
piece of thin sheet, which is "parted" with nitric acid (see Gold).
The gold remains and goes to the balance; the weight of the silver
is found by dilTcrence. Similarly, to determine the fineness of
silver alloys, a known weight of the alloy — customarily 0'5
gramme — is "cupelled," with addition of a proportion of pure lead
deiiending on the weight of base motal to be removed, as shown by
the following table, which,, however, holds strictly only for coppef«
silver alloys : — »
Fineness 1000-900 80 units of lead per unit of copper.
„ 900-860 64
„ 800-750 53 ,,
„ below 750 50-40 ,,
In a well-appointed laboratory two operators who work into each
other's hands can easily make several do.zcn of such as,says in a
day. Cupelling, indeed, is the promptest of all methods of ana-
lysis, only the results are not quite as exact as is desiiable in
the case of precious metal, part of the silver being lost by
volatilization, and part by being sucked into the cupel. The errorl
attains its maximum in tlie case of alloys of about 700 per mille, i
and with these comes to about j^th of the weiglit of the silver to,
be determined. It of course can be, and always is being, corrected'
to some extent by "blank" assays made with known weights of
pure silver and pure copper; but such corrections are not quite
safe. Hence cupellation nowadays, in the mints at least, is used
only for a first approximation, and the exact fineness determined
by the "wet- way "process, invented by Gay-Lussac See Assaying,
vol. ii. p. 727.
A most excellent method for the quick determination of a not
approximately known weight of dissolved silver has been invented
by Volhard. This method rests on the fact that solutions of
siilphocyanates (including that intensely red salt Fe(NCS)3 which
is produced when, for instance, NCS. H is mixed with ferric sul-
phate) precipitate silver completely from even strongly acid solu-
tions, as NCS. Ag. A convenient reagent for the method is pro-
duced by dissolving -j'j NCS. NH, grammes of (chlorine-free)
sulphocyanate of ammonium in water to 1000 c.a to produce a
solution of which 1 c.c. preci]iitates about -,',; Ag^ 10 '8 milligrammes
of silver. To determine theexact"titre," we dissolve, say, 540 milli-
grammes of pure silver in 1'2 nitric acid, and next boil away every
trace of NjOa. We then dilute to say 50 c.c, add 5 c.c. of saturated
solution of iron alum (not less), anil, lastly, run in sulphocyanate
from the burette, until the red colour of ferric sulphocyanate whicl
appears locally from the first, hy addition of the last drop of NCS
solution, has become permanent on stirring. Supposing 49'3 c.c.
of solution to have been required to reach this point, every 1 c.c.
of reagent precipitates ji °j milligrammes of silver, and it, of course,
always does so, even, let us add, in the presence of (say) 70 percent,
of copper beside 30 of silver in the alloy under operation. Volhard's
method is more exact, and, with a small number of samples, takes
even less time, than cupellation. (W. D.)
Alode of Occiirreiice.—SiU'eT is rarely found in. the
native state, and then only in comparatively small quanti-
ties. Most of the ores of silver are difficult to reduce, and
it is therefore deemed safe to regard this as the last of
the three great coining metals Wihich came into use.
Silver is originally as widespread as gold, occurring in
nearly all the volcanic rocks and soma of the Primary
ones. In the Silver Reef district of Utah it is found
in sedimentary sandstone, though this -appears to have
undergone some change from volcanic action. But gold
remains unaltered by the action of the elements, and is
often carried away long distances from its original place
of occurrence by the breaking down of the rocks which
contain it and their formation anew elsewhere, either as
other rocks or as " placers " of gravel or sand, containing
gold easily washed out by hand or with rude appliances.
Silver, on the contrary, is only to be found in the rocks
where it originally occurs. When these are broken down
or- worn away, the silver is either driven into new mineral
combinations, or, more commonly, dissipated and lost.
Hence silver is only to be obtained by subterranean mining,
and demands the aid -of capital and associated labour.
The greater rapidity with which gold can be obtained
has often influenced the legal relation of value between
these two metals, and its bearing upon prices, commerce,
and civilization.
Cost of Production. — In nearly all silver ores there is
some gold, and in nearly all gold ores some silver. In the
£70,000,000 worth of metal produced from the Comstock
lode of Nevada nearly one half in value consisted of gold.
For this and other rea.=!ons, it is impossible to determine
the general average cost of producing gold and silver from
all the piines during any reasonably long period of time.
If rci'cnt statl.stics are to be trusted, both metals are pro-
SILVER
duced on tlie arerage at a loss. Such is alleged to liavo
been the case in California, Australia, and Nevada,^
countries whose combined product has equalled in value
nearly £600,000,000.
Value. — In some ancient states the value of silver ap-
pears to have been superior to that of gold.- Agatharchides
informs us that such was the case in ancient Arabia ; and
Tacitus says the same of ancient Germany. Strabo
alleges that the ratio of value in a country bordering that
of the Sab^ans was at one time one gold to two silver;
and so late as the 17th century silver and gold were valued
equally in Japan.' Going back to a remote antiquity,
silver appears to have been everywhere equal in value to
gold until the silver mines sjiowed signs of exhaustion,
when, as the principal coins were of copper and silver,
and prices were commonly expressed in these coins, the
threatened decrease of money was probably averted and a
profit secured for the state by raising the legal value of
gold coins. In Greece, in the time of Herodotus (c/. iii.
95), gold was 13 times the value of silver, at which ratio it
appears to have stood for a long period.
When the Eomans acquired the placer mines of Pan-
nonia, Daoia, Spain, Gaul, &c., they made their principal
coins of gold ; and at a later period, when the supplies of
this metal fell off, they raised the legal value of silver coins
to one-tenth that of gold ones of like weight and fineness.
This ratio was afterwards changed to 11, and still later to
12 silver for 1 gold. In the Arabian states of the 7tb
century the ratio was about 6i for 1 ; yet in France at
tlie same time it was 10 for 1 ; in England during the
12th century it was 9 for 1 ; in France during the 14th
century certain silver and gold coins of like weight bore
the same value, hence the ratio was 1 for 1 ; in Castile
and Leon in 1454-74 it was Ih for 1. Speaking broadly,
between the rise of Mohammedanism and the opening of
the silver mines of America the value of silver compared
with gold gradually rose. It is evident that there were
two lines of ratios, the one having an Indo-Arabic, the
other a Komano-Germanic origin, and, that the conflict
of ratios — which only ceased when America was discovered
and a great coinage of the precious metals occurred in
Spain — gave rise to many of those otherwise inexplicable
lowerings of coins, of one or the other metal, which charac-
terize this period.
In Spain, by the edict of Medina (1497), the ratio was
lOJ. When America was plundered the first fruits were
gold, not silver; whereupon Spain, in 1546, and before
the wealth of the silver mines of Potosi was known, raised
the legal value of gold to 13iL, and, as Spain then mono-
polized the supplies of the precious metals, the rest of
the world was obliged to acquiesce in her valuation.
During the following century Portugal obtained such
immense quantities of gold from the East Indies, Japan,
and Brazil that the value of her imports of this metal
exceeded £3,000,000 a year, wJiilst those of Spaitt had
dwindled to £500,000 in gold, and had only increased to
£2,500,000 in silver. Portugal now governed the ratio,
and in 1688 raised the value of gold to 16 times that
of silver. Except during a brief period of forty years,
this ratio has ever since been maintained in Spani.sh and
British America and the United States. A century later
the spoils of the Orient were exhausted, the Brazilian
placers began to decline, and Portugal lost her importanca
Spain thus again got control of the ratio, and, as her
colonial produce was chiefly silver, she raised its value
in 1775 from one-sixteenth to one-fifteenth and a half
* Del Mar, IHsl. Free, Mttalt, ohapk xxxL
• Boeckli. Political Economy of the Athenians, book i. clinp. 6.
^ * Sir Edward J. Kced, Japan, chap, iviii. J DelMar, itonef nod
~^AK/iM<>u»i chu^. XX.
that of gold for the Peninsula, permitting it to. remain at
one-sixteenth in the colonies. France, whose previous
ratio (that of 1726) was 14 J, adopted the Spanish ratio of
15i in 1785, and has adhered to it ever since. These
three historical ratios, and the bearing of each upon the
others, have ir fluenced all legislation on the subject, and,
where there was no legislation, have governed the bullion
markets for more than two centuries.
Meanwhile an .economical school arose which, while
conceding it to he necessary that the state should fabri-
cate coins, denied it the right to limit the number of
coins,- or to e.xact payment (seigniorage) for coinage.
This school found expression in the Act 18 Charles IL
(1666), which permitted private persons to have coined
for them an. unlimited quantity of gold or silver, at the
public mint, free of charge. Similar Acts were passed in
Holland, France, and other countries. But the crown
retained the right to regulate the nominal value of gold
and silver coin.s, the exercise of which has had the greatest
influence on the relative market value of those metals.
To check abuses of this prerogative the economical
school next directed its efforts towards the adoption of
one in ])lace of two metals for full legal tender coins. The
principal advocates of this change during the last century
were Dutot (1739) and Desrotours (1790), and during
the present one Lord Liverpool (1808), De Quincey (1849),
and Chevalier (1856). The policy thus advocated was
practically adopted in Holland and England during the
18th century, and by the latter definitively in 1816. It
was accepted by the Monetary Conference assembled at
Paris June 20, 1867, and by the Commercial Convention
at Berlin October 20, 1868. In 1871 it was practically,
though not definitively, adopted by Germany, and since
that date by several smaller states, including distant Japan.
In France (1874) and the United States (1873-78) the
policy pursued has been a waiting one. Full legal tender
silver coins continue to be employed for money, but the
state has ceased to coin silver on private account.
Either Germany, France, or the United States may, by
simple enactment, and without recoinage or change of
coins, return to the " bimetallic " basis of money.
The closure of the mints of all important. commercial
countries to silver, while they have remained open to the
free coinage of gold at a fixed valuation,; has enhanced
the purchasing power of gold, compared with either silver
or other commodities, about one-fourth. The price of
uncoined silver being usually quoted in gold, this pheno-
menon appears as a "fall of silver," by which term it is
commonly known. This alleged fall, its causes, conse-
quences, and remedies, constitute the " Silver Question."
Production. — In the principal producing countries — the
United States, Mexico, Chili, and Peru — mining is free,
and there are no official returns of the production, which
is therefore mere matter of conjecture. In the United
States it is the custom to value silver bullion at one-
sixteenth that of gold. This unduly swells the value of
the conjectural product of that country more than one-
fourth (see Beport of the United States Monetary Com-
mission of 1876, Appendix, pp. 1-66). From a careful
considerttion of the bullion movement, the total annual
product of siher throughout the world at the present
time is estimated at between 50 and ,60 million ounces, at
which figure it has remained steady upwards of ten years.
Consumption in the Arts. — Direct inquiries as to the
quantity of silver used in the arts have met with little
success, and the statistics so obtained are defective.
But the total production of silver in the Western World,
from the discovery of America to the present time, has
been, in value, about 1400 million pounds sterling, of
which about 300 million pounds remain in coins. Cohae^
XXIL — to
74
S 1 L — S I L
quently 1100 millions, or nearly four-fifths, have been
consumed in the arts, lost, &c., or exported to Asia.
There are estimated to be about 50 or 60 miiliou pounds
sterling worth of silver coins in India,^ and some trifling
amounts each in China, Japan, Persia, <tc. On the whole
it appears quite safe to estimate the average annual con-
sumption of silver in the arts and through wear, tear,
and loss as fully equal to three-fourths of the production.
Lowe in 1822 estimated it at two-thirds. Silver is princi-
pally used for plate and jewellery ; it is also consumed
in photography, and in numerous chemical preparations,
such as lunar caustic, indelible ink, hair dyes, fulminating
powder, &c. (a. de.)
SILVERIUS, the successor of Poiie Agapetus I., was a
legitimate son of Pope Hormisdas, born before his father
entered the priesthood. He was consecrated on June 8,
536, having purchased his elevation to the see of St Peter
from the Gothic king Theodotus. Six months afterwards
(Dec. 9) he was one of those who admitted Belisarius into
the city. He opposed, the restoration of the patriarch
Anthimus, whom Agapetus had deposed, and thus brought
upon himself the hatred of Theodora, who desired to see
Vigilius made pope. He was deposed accordingly by
Belisarius in March 537 on a charge (not improbably well
founded) of treasonable correspondence with the Goths,
and degraded to the rank of a simple monk. He found
his way to Constantinople, and Justmian, who entertained
his complairi\ sent him back to Rome, but Vigilius was
ultimately able to banish his rival to Pandataria, where
the rest of his life was spent in obscurity. The date
of his death is unknown.
SILVESTEPt I., bishop of Rome from January 314 to
December 335, succeeded Melchiades and was followed
by Marcus. The accounts of his papacy preserved in the
Liber Poniificalis (7th or 8th century) and in Anastasius
are little else than a record of the gifts said to have been
conferred on the Roman Church by Constantino the Great.
He was represented at the council of Nice, and is said to
have held a council at Rome to condemn the heresies of
Arius and others. The story of his having baptized Con-
stantino is pure fiction, as almost contemporary evidence
shows the emperor to have received this rite near Nico-
media at the hands of Eusebius, bishop of that city.
According to Dollinger, the entire legend, with all its details
of the leprosy and the proposed bath of blood, cannot have
been composed later than the close of the 5th century,
•while it is certainly alluded to by Gregory of Tours (o6.
694) and Bede. The so-called Donation of Constantine
was long ago shown to be spurious, but the document is of
very considerable antiquity and, in Bollinger's opinion, was
forged in Rome between 752 and 777. It was certainly
known to Pope Hadrian in 778, and was inserted in the
false decretals towards the middle of the next century.
SILVESTER IL, pope from 999 till 1003, and previ-
ously famous, under his Christian name of Gerbert, first
as a teacher and afterwards as archbishop successively of
Rheims and Ravenna, was an Aquitanian by birth, and was
educated from his boyhood at the abbey of St Gerold in
Aurillac. Here he seems to have had Gerald for his abbot
and Raymond for his instructor, both of whom were among
the most trusted correspondents of his later life. From
Aurillac, while yet a young man (adolescens), he was carried
oS to the Spanish march by " Borrell, duke of Hither
Spain " for the sake of prosecuting his studies in a district
where learning, at that time, flourished more luxuriantly
than in Aquitania. Borrell entrusted his young proteg6
to the care of a certain Bishop Hatto, under whose instruc-
tion Gerbert made great progress in mathematics. In
* B, B, Ctapman, Financial Department of Qovernmenl of India.
this duke we may certainly recognize Borel, who, accord-
ing to the Spanish chroniclers, was count of Barcelona
from 967 to 993, while the bishop may probably be
identified with Hatto, bishop of Vich or Ausona from
c. 960 to 971 or 972. In company with his two patrons
Gerbert visited Rome, where the pope, hearing of the
young student's proficiency in music and astronomy,
induced him to remain in Italy, and before long intro-
duced him to the emperor Otto I. A papal diploma, still
extant, shows that Count Borel and Bishop Octo or Otho
of Ausona were at Rome in January 971, and, as all the
other indications point to a corresponding year, enables us
to fix the chronology of Gerbert's later life.
When brought before the emperor, Gerbert admitted
his skill in all branches of the quadrivium, but lamented
his comparative ignorance of logic. Eager to supply this
deficiency he seized the opportunity of following Lothaire's
ambassador Garamnus, archdeacon of Rheims, to this
city, for the sake of studying under so famous a dialec-
tician in the episcopal schools which were then (c. 972?)
rising into reputation under the care of Archbishop
Adalbero (969-989). So promising a scholar soon
attracted the attention of Adalbero himself, and Gerbert
was speedily invited to exchange his position of learner
for that of teacher. At Rheims he seems to have studied
and lectured for many years, having amongst his pupils,
now or at a later time, Hugh Capet's son Robert, after-
wards king of France, and Richer, to whose history we
owe almost every detail of his master's early life. Accord-
ing to this writer Gerbert's fame began to spread over
western Europe, throughout Gaul, Germany, and Italy,
till it roused the envy of a rival teacher, Otric of Saxony,
in whom we may doubtless recognize Octricus of Magde-
burg, the favourite scholar of Otto I., and, in earlier
days, the instructor of St Adalbert,, the apostle of the
Bohemians. Otric, suspecting that Gerbert erred in his
classification of the sciences, sent one of his own pupils
to Rheims to take notes of his lectures, and, finding his
suspicions correct, accused him of his error before Otto II.
The emperor, to whom Gerbert was well known, appointed
a time for the two philosophers to argue before him ; and
Richer has left a long account of this dialectical tourna-
ment at Ravenna, which lasted out a whole day and was
only terminated towards evening at the imperial bidding.
The date of this controversy seems to have been about
Christmas 980, and it was probably followed almost imme-
diately by Otric's death, October 1, 981.
It must have been about this time (c. 982) that Geroert
received the great abbey of Bobbio from the emperor.
That it was Otto 11., and not, as formerly supposed. Otto
I., who gave him this benefice, seems evident from a
diploma quoted by JIabillon {Annales, iv. 121). Richer,
however, makes no mention of this event ; and it is only
from allusions in Gerbert's letters that we learn how the
new abbot's attempts to enforce his dues waked a spirit
of discontent which at last drove him in November 983 to
take refuge with his old patron Adalbero. It was to no
purpose that he appealed to the emperor and empress for
restitution or redress ; and it was perh_aps the hope of
extorting his reappointment to Bobbio, as a, reward for
his services to the imperial cause, that changed the
studious scholar of Rheims into the wily secretary of
Adalbero. It was a time of great moment in the history
of Western Europe. Otto 11. died in December 983,
leaving the empire to his infant heir Otto III. Lothaire
claimed the guardianship, and attempted to make use of
his position to serve his own purposes in Lorraine, which
would in all probability have been lost to the empire had
it not been for the indefatigable fefforts of Adalbero and
Gerbert, Into the obscure details of tha succeeding years.
SILVESTER
75
as they have to be pieced together from the letters of I
Gerbert and the hints of Richer or the later annalists,
there is no need to enter here. Gerbert's policy is to be
identified with that of his metropolitan, and was strongly
influenced by gratitude for the benefits that he had received
from both the elder Ottos.
According to M. Olleris's arrangement of the letters,
Gerbert was at Mantua and Rome in 985. Then followed
the death of Lothaire (2d March 986) and of Louis V.,
the last Carolingian king, in May 987. Later on in the
i8ame year Adalbero crowned Hugh Capet (1st June) and
fhis son Robert (25th December). Such was the power of
Adalbero and Gerbert in those days that it was said their
influence alone sufficed to make and unmake kings. The
archbishop died 23d January 989, having, according to
his secretary's account, designated Gsrbert his successor
before his decease. Notwithstanding this, the influence
of the empress Theophania secured the appointment for
Arnulf, a bastard son of Lothaire. The new prelate took
the oath of fealty to Hugh Capet and persuaded Gerbert
to remain with him. When Charles of Lorraine, Arnulf's
■uncle, and the illegitimate son of Louis D'Outremer, sur-
prised Rheims in the autumn of the same year, Gerbert
fell into his hands and for a time continued to serve
Arnulf, who had now gone over to his uncle's side. He
had, however, returned to his allegiance to the house of
Capet before the fall of Laon placed both Arnulf and
Charles at the mercy, of the French king (c. 30th March
991). Then followed the council of St Basle, near Rheims,
at which Arnulf confessed his treason and was degraded
from his office (17th June 991). In return for his services
Gerbert was elected to succeed the deposed bishop.
The episcopate of the new metropolitan was marked by
a vigour and activity that were felt not merely in his own
diocese but as far as Toi,irs, Orleans, and Paris. Mean-
while the friends of Arnulf appealed to Rome, and a papal
legate was sent to investigate the question. As yet Hugh
Capet maintained the cause of his nominee and forbade
the prelates of his kingdom to be present at the council of
Mouzon, near Sedan (June 2, 995). Notwithstanding this
prohibition Gerbert appeared in his own behalf. The events
of the next few years are somewhat obscure. Council
seems to have followed council, but with uncertain results..
At last Hugh Capet died in 996, and, shortly after, his
son Robert married Bertha, the widow of Odo, count of
Blois. The pope condemned this marriage as adulterous ;
and Abbo of Fleiiry, who visited Rome shortly after Gregory
Y.'a accession, is said to have procured the restoration of
Arnulf at the new pontiff's demand. We may surmise that
Gerbert left France towards the end of 995, as he was
present at Otto III.'s coronation, May 21, 996. Somewhat
iator he became Otto's instructor in arithmetic, and had
been appointed archbishop of Ravenna before May 998.
Early in the next year he was elected pope (April 999),
and took the title of Silvester II. In this capacity Gerbert
showed the same energy that had characterized his former
life. He is generally credited with having fostered the
splendid vision of a restored empire that now began to fill
the imagination of the young emperor, who is said to have
confirmed the papal claims to eight counties in the Ancona
march. Writing in the name of the desolate church at
Jerusalem he called upon the warriors of Christendom to
arm them.selves in defence of the Holy City, onco " the
light of the world," but now fallen so low. Thus ho
sounds the first trumpet-call of the crusades, tliough almost
a century was to pass away before his note was repeated
by Peter the Hermit and Urban IL*
' This' letter, even if spurious as now Bu.spectoii, is found in tlio
llth-'-entory Leydeu Mii., ocd is therefore anterior to the btul
Nor did Silvester 11. confine himself to plans on a large
scale. He is also foond confirming his old rival Arnulf
in the see of Rheims ; summoning Adalbero or Azelmus of
Laon to Rome to answer for his crimes; judging between
the archbishop of Mainz and the bishop of Hildesheim ;
besieging the revolted town of Cesena; flinging the count
of Angouleme into prison for an offence against a bishop ;
confirming the privileges of Fulda abbey ; granting charters
to bishoprics far away on the Spanish mark ; and, on the
eastern borders of the empire, erecting Prague as the seat
of an archbishopric for the Slavs. More lemarkablo than
all his other acts is his letter to St Stephen, king of Hun-
gary, to whom he sent a golden crowm, and whose kingdom
he accepted as a fief of the Holy See. It must, however,
be remarked that the genuineness of this letter, in which
Gerbert to some extent foreshadows the temporal claims of
Hildebrand and Innocent III., has been hotly contested,
and that the original document has long been lost. All
Gerbert's dreams for the advancement of church and em-
pire were cut short by the death of Otto III., 4th February
1002 ; and this event was followed a year later by the
death of the pope himself, which took place 12th May
1003. His body was buried in the church of St John
Lateran, where his tomb and inscription are yet to be seen.
A few words must be devoted to Silvester II. as regards his
attitude to the Church of Rome and the learning of his age. He
has left ns two detailed accounts of the proceedings of the council
of St Basle ; and, despite his reticence, it is impossible to doubt
that he was the moving spirit in Arnulf's deposition. On the
whole it may be said that his position in "this question as to the
rights of the papal see over foreign metropolitans resembled that
of his great predecessor Hincniar, to whose authority he constantly
appeals. But it is useless to seek in his writings for any defini-
tion of the relationship of these powers laid down with logical jire-
cision. He is rather the practised debater who will admit his
opponent's principles for the moment when he sees his way to
moulding them to his own purposes, than the philosophical states-
man.who has formulated a theory from whose terms he will not
move. Roughly ..sketched, his argument is as follows. Rome is
indeed to be honoured as the mother of the churches ; nor would
Gerbert oppose Irer judgments excep^^ in two cases — (1) where she
enjoins something that is contrary to the decrees of a universal
council, such as that of Nice, or (2) where, after having been once
appealed to in a matter of ecclesiastical discipline and having re-
fused to give a plain and speedy decision, she should, at s fatef
date, attempt to call in question the provisions of the metropolitan
synod called to'remedy the efl'ects of her negligence. The decisions
of a Gregory or a Leo the Great, of a Gelasius or an Innocent,
prelates of hoiy life and unequalled wisdom, arc accepted by the
universal church ; for, coming from such men, they cannot but
be good. But who could recognize in the cruel and lustful popes
of later days,— in John XII. or Boniface VII., "monsters, as they
were, 'of more than human iniquity," — a,nything else than "Anti-
christ sitting in the temple of God and showing himself as God ?"
Gerbert proceeds to argue that the church councils admitted the
right of metropolitan synods to depose unworthy bishops, but
contends tliat, even if an appeal to Rome were necessary, that
appeal had been made a year before without effect. This last
clause prepares us to find liim shifting his position still further at
the council of Causey, where ho advances the proposition that John
XVI. was represented at St Basle by his legate Seguin, arclibi.shop
of Seas, and that, owing to this, the decrees of the latter councQ
had received the papal sanction. Far firmer is the tone of his
later letter to tlie same archbishop, where he contends from his-
torical evidence that the papal judgment is not infallible, and
encourages his brother prolate not to fear excommunication in a
righteous cause, for it is not in the power oven of tho suc'Ccs.sor of
Peter " to separate an innocent jiriest from tho love of Christ."
Besides being the most distinguished statesman Gerbert was also
the most accomplished scholar of his age. But in this aspect h« is
rather to be regarded as tho diligent expositor of other men's
views than as an original thinker. Except as regards philo-
sojihical and religious speculation, his writings show a range of
int<iro8t and knowledge quite unparalleled in that generation. Ilia
))uiiil Richer has left us a detailed account of his system of teaching
at Rheims. So far as tho trivium is concerned, his tcxt-book.i wero
Victorinus'a translation of Porphyry's Jsagogc, Aristotle's Cnlegorits,
and Cicero's Topics with Manlius's Commentaries. From dialectics
ho urged his pupils to tho study of rhetoric ; but, recognizing th«
necessity of a l.irgo vocabulary, he accustomed them to rcail the
Latin pouti with ca^xi. Virgil. Stutiwi, 'foronce, Juvenal Horace
76
S I L — S 1 ]M
I ersius, and Lucan are specially named as entering into a course
of training which was rendered more stimulating by a free use of
open discussion. Jlore remarkable still were his methods of teach-
ing the quadrivium. To assist his lectures ori astronomy he con-
structed elaborate globes of the terrestrial and celestial spheres, on
which the course of the planets was marked ; for facilitating arith-
metical and perhaps geometrical processes he constructed an abacus
with twenty-seven divisions and a thousand counters of horn. A
younger contemporary speaks of his having made a wonderful
clock or snn-dial at Magdeburg ; and we know from his letters
that Gerbert was accustomed to exchange his globes for MSS. of
those classical authors that his own library did not contain. More
extraordinary still was his knowledge of music — an accomplish-
ment which seems to have been his earliest recommendation to
Otto I. Probably he was beyond his age in this science, for we
read of Gararanus, his first tutor at Rheims, whom he attempted
to ground in this subject: "Artis difficultate victus, a musica
rejectus est." Gcrbert's letters contain more than one allusion
to organs which he seems to have constructed, and William of
Malmesbury has preserved an account of a wonderful musical
instrument still to be seen in his days at Rheims, which, so far as
the English chronicler's words can be made out. seems to refer to
au organ worked by steam. The same historian tells us that
Gerbert borrowed from the Arabs (Saraceni) the abacus with ciphers
(but see Numerals, vol. xvii. p. 627). Perhaps Gerbert's chief
claim to the remembrance of posterity is to be found in the cafe
and expense with which he gathered together MSS. of the classical
writers. His love for literature was a pas.sion. In the turmoil of
bis later life he looked back with regret to his student days ; and
" for all his troubles philosophy was his only cure. " Everywhere
— at Rome, at Treves, at Moutier-en-Der, at Gerona in Spain, at
Barcelona — he had friends or agents to procure him copies of the
great Latin writers for Bobbio or Rheims. To the abbot of Tours
be writes that he is "labouring assiduously to form a library,"
and "throughout Italy, Germany, and Lorraine (Belgica) is spend-
ing vast sums of moiicy in the acquisition of MSS." It is note-
W'^rthy, however, that Gerbert never writes for a copy of one of
the Christian fathers, his aim being, seemingly, to preserve the
fragments of a fast- perishing secular Latin literature. It is equally
remarkable that, despite his residence on the Spanish mark, he
shows no token of * knowledge of Arabic, a fact which is perhaps
sufficient to overthrow the statement of his younger contemporary
Adhemar as to his having studied at Cordova. There is hardly a
trace to be found in his writings of any acquaintance with Greek.
So remarkable a character as that of Gerbert left its mark on the
age, and fables soon began to cluster round his name. Towards
the eud of the 11th century Cardinal Benno, the opponent of
Hildebrand, is said to have made him the first of a long line of
magician popes. Orderic Vitalis improves this legend by details
of an interview with the devil, who prophesied Gerbert's threefold
elevation in the famous line that Gerberts contemporaries attri-
buted to the pope himself:
Transit in R. Gerbertus In R. post papa vigens R.
A few years later William of Malmesbury adds a love adventure at
Cordova, a compact with the devil, the story of a speaking statue
that foretold Gerbert's death at Jerusalem — a prophecy fulfilled,
somewhat as in the case of Henry IV. of England, by his dying in
the Jerusalem church of Rome,— and that imaginative story of the
statue with the legend "Strike here," which, after having found its
way into the Gcsta Eomanonim. has of late been revived in the
Earthly Paradise.
Gerbert's extant works may be divided into five classes, (a) A collcclion of
letters, some 230 in number. These are to be found for the most part in an 11th-
centuiy MS. at Leyden. Other important MSS. are those of the Baiberini Library
at Rome (late 16th century), of Middlehill (17th century), and of St Peter's abbey,
Salzburg. With the letters may be grouped tlie papal deciees of Gerbert when
Silvester IT. (6) The Ada Concilii Jiemensis ad Sanctum Basolum, a detailed
account of the proceedings and discourses at the great council of St Basle ;
a shorter account of his apologetic speeches at the councils of Mouzon and
Causey; and drafta of the decrees of two or three other councils or imperial
constitutions promulgated wlien he was archbialtop of Ravenna or pope. The
Important woiks on the three above-mentioned councils are to be found In tiio
llth-century Leyden MS. just alluded to. (c) Gerbert's theological works com-
prise a Sermo de Informatione Episcoporum and a treatise entitled De Corpora et
Sanguine Domini, both of very doubtfnl authenticity, id) Of his philosophical
works we only have one, Libellus de Rationali et Raticjie uti, written at the
request of Otte III. and preserved in an 11th-century MS. at Paris, (c) His
mathematical works consist of a Regula de A baco Compuii, of which a 12th-century
MS. is to be fpund at the Vatican; and a Libellus de Numerorum Dirisione (llth
and 12th century MSS. at Rome, Montpellier, and Paris), dedicated to his friend
and correspondent Constantine of Fieury. A Ion g treatise on geometiy , attributed
to Gerbert, is of somewhat doubtful authenticity. To tliese may be added a very
short disquisition on the same subject addressed to Adalbold, and a similar one,
on one of his own spheres, addressed to Constantine, abbot of Micy. All the
writings of Gerbert are collected In the edition of M. Clieris. ' (T. A. A.)
SILVESTER III. When Boniface IX. ■was driven
from Rome early in January 1044, John, bishop of Sabina,
was elected in his stead and took the title of Silvester III.
Within three months Boniface returned and expelled his
rival. Nearly three vears later CDecember 1046) the
council of Sutri deprived him of his bi.shoprio and priest-
hood. He was then sent to a monastery, where he .seems
to have died.
SIMANCAS, a walled town of Spam, 8} miles south-
west from Valladolid, on the road to Zamora, is situated
on the Pisuerga, here crossed by a fine bridge of seventeen
arches. The population within the municipal boundaries
was 1258 in 1885. In the north-western angle of the
town stands the Archivo General del Reino, originally a
fortified castle, to which the national archives of Spain
were removed in 1 563 (the suggestion was due to Ximenez).
The extensive architectural alterations and repairs which
were necessary were made under the direction of Herrera,
Berruguete, and Jlora, and the arrangement of the papers
was entrusted to Diego de Ayala. They now occupy forty-
six rooms, and are arranged in upwards of 80,000 Isundles
(30,000,000 documents), including important private as
well as state papers, ambassadors' correspondence, and the
like. The archives of the Indies, originally lodged here,
were transferred in the 18th century to the Lonja of Seville.
Permission to consult the documents at Simancas can now
be readily obtained.
SIMBIRSK, a government- of eastern Russia, on the
right bank of the middle Volga, with Kazan on the N.,
Samara on the E., Saratofl:' on the S., and Penza and
Nijni-Novgorod on the W., has an area of 19,110
square miles, and a population (1882) of 1,471,164. It
is occupied by the eastern parts of the great central
plateau of middle Russia, which slowly rises towards the
south, and gently slopes in the north towards the great
Oka depression of the middle Volga. Its higher parts
range from 750 to 1000 feet above the sea, and form the
Zheguleff range of hills, which compel the Volga to make
its great bend at Samara; while the numerous valleys and
ravines which intersect it, and are excavated to a depth of
700 to 800 feet, give quite a hilly aspect to several parts
of it, especially in the east, where it descends with abrupt
crags towards the broad valley of the Volga. In the west
a broad depression, traversed by numerous rivers and
streams, extends along the left bank of thj Sura. All
geological formations, from the Carboniferous upwards are
met with in Simbirsk. The Volga flows for 300 miles
along the eastern boundary, separating Simbirsk from
Samara. The shallow Sviyaga risee in the Samarskaya
Luka Hills and flows parallel to the Volga, at a distance
of 2 to 20 miles, but in an opposite direction. The
Sura, also flowing northwards, waters the western part
of Simbirsk ; it is navigable for more than 270 miles, and,
as it is free from ice earlier than the Volga and flows
towards central Russia, goods are sometimes transported
by land to the Sura to be shipped on it W'hen speedy
transport is desired. Its tributaries — the Barysh, Alatyr
(100 miles), Piyana, and others — are not navigable. The
Usa (80 miles) and the Syzraii (100 miles) flow east and
join the Volga below the Samara bend. A few lakes and
marshes are met with in ■ the west of the government.
The forests, although rapidly disappearing, still cover
3,894,800 acres, while of the remainder 5,930,600 acres
are arable, 1,150,800 acres prairie and pasture land, and
605,600 acres uncultivable. In the north excellent forests
of timber cover large areas, but in the. south they are rare.
The climate is severe, and the extremes are great. At
Simbirsk the average temperature is 38°'7, but the ther-
mometer sometimes reaches 114° F., and frosts of - 47° F.
are not uncommon ; the average rain and snow fall is only
17 '6 inches. South of the Samara Hills the climate is
much less severe, and gardening, which is prosecuted with
great difficulty in the north, flourishes there.
The population, which was but 1,192,510 in 1867, had reached
1,471,164 in 1882. of whom only 100,740 lived in towns. Tho
S I M — S I M
77
greater number (about two-thirds) are Great Russians, the remainder
being Mordvinians (13 per cent.), Tchuvashes (93 per cent.), and
Tartars (8-3 per cent. ), with about 1000 Jews. The Mordvinians
are chictiy settled in the north-west, in Ardatoff and Alatyr (40
and 26 per cent, of population), and on the Volga in Senghilei ; the
Tchuvashes make about one-third of the population of the districts
of Buin^k and Kurmysh, contiguous to Kazafi ; tlfb Tartars con-
stitute about 35 per cent, in Buinsk and 18 per cent, in Senghilei.
Only the Tartars (about 100,000) are Mohammedans, the remainder
being Greek-Orthodox or Dissenters. As in other Volga govern-
ments, the villages in Simbirsk are mostly large, many of them
having from 3000 to 5000 inhabitants. Agriculture, favoured by
a fertile soil, is the chief occupation, grain being exported or
manufactured into spirit. Linseed and hempseed are cultivated
for exportation, as also kitchen-garden produce and some fruit.
Bee-keeping is a favourite and remunerative occupation with
Mordvinians, and fishing (sturgeon) is carried on in the Volga and
the Sura. The timber-trade in the north and the shipbuilding on
the Sura are considerable sources of wealth ; wooden sledges and
wheels are made and exported, as well as bags of lime-tree bast, —
the last-named industry giving occupation to whole villages. Other
petty trades, also carried on in conjunction with agriculture, are the
manufacture of felts and felt hats, linen stutfs (especially among the
Mordvinians), cottons, boots, and small metal wares. A character-
istic feature of Simbirsk is the trade in wooden vessels, wliich are
exported to Vyatka, Perm, Orenburg, Samara, and the Don, and
there exchanged for cat, squirrel, and hare skins. Flour-mills are
numerous. Watered by the Volga and Sura, and moreover traversed
in its southern portion by the railway connecting Orenburg and
Samara with Penza and RyazaiS, by Batraki and Syzran, the govern-
ment has an active trade. I.ts exports, however, are much below
those of Samara and Saratoff. Batraki and Syzran are important
centres of traffic, the aggregate amount of merchandise entered and
cleared by rail and boat being respectively 2,435,000 and 2,000,000
cwts. (timber not included). The chief ports of lading on the Sura
are Alatyr, Promzino-Gorodi&jhe, and Berezniki, each with exports
valued at about 750,000 roubles. Corn, linseed, woollen stuffs,
timber, potash, and wooden wares are the principal articles of trade.
Simbirsk is very backward as regards education. There were in
1882 only 462 schools (17,795 boys and 2663 girls) and 8 secondary
schools (497 male and 516 female pupils).
The government is divided into eight districts, the chief towns
of which, with their populations in 1880, are — Simbirsk (36,600),
Alatyr (15,000), Ardatoff (4740), Buinsk (4130), Karsuh (3740),
Kurmysh (1930), Senghilei (3500), and Syzran (24,500). Kotyakolf
(580) and Tagai (2400) have municipal institutions. The above-
mentioned ports of lading are more important than most of the
towns.
The first Russian settlers made their appearance in the Simbirsk
region in the 14th century, but did not extend east of the Sura.
Hot till two centuries later did they cross the Sura and the district
begin to be peopled by refugees from Moscow. The Zheguleff
Mountains in the south still continuing to be a place of refuge for
the criminal and the persecuted, Simbirsk was founded in 1648,
and a palisaded earthen wall was built, running south-west of the
new town, with small forts extending to the Sura. The region thus
protected was soon settled, and, as the Russian villages advanced
further south, Syzrari was founded, and a second lino of small forts,
extending also towards the Sura, was erected. The colonizers settled
rapidly, and the aboriginal Mordvinians soon adopted many of their
customs, so as to lose their ethnographical individuality, especially
within the last fifty years. Simbirsk received the name of an old
Tartar settlement, Sinbir, situated 9 miles south of the present
town, on the opposite bank of the Volga.
SIMBIRSK, capital of the above government, is situ-
ated 576 miles east-south-east of Moscow, between the
Volga and the Sviyaga, here separated by an isthmus only
2 miles broad. The central part of Simbirsk — the Crown
(Vyenets), containing the cathedral and the best houses —
is built on a hill 560 feot above the Volga, whence there
is a beautiful view over the low left bank of the river.
Adjoining is the trading part of Simbirsk, while farther
down on the slope, towards the Volga, are scattered the
store-hou.ses, the sho[)s for the sale of stoneware and other
merchandise brought by the steamers and boats, and the
poorest suburbs of the city ; these last also occupy the
western slope towards the Sviyaga. There are three
suburbs on the left bank of the Volga, communication
with them being maintained in summer by steamers. A
great fire having destroyed nearly all the town in 1864, it
Las been again built on a new plan, still mostly of wood.
The cathedral of St Nicholas dates from 1712. The new
one, that of the Trinity, was erected by the nobility in com-
memoration of 1812. The old church of St Nicholas on
the Karamzin Square is architecturallj' pleasing. A public
garden has been laid out on the top of the Vyenets Hill
and another in the outskirts of the city, while no fewer
than three hundred private gardens, where fruits are grown
for exportation, are scattered throughout the town. The
historian Karamzin (born in 1766 in the vicinity of Sim-
birsk) has a monument here, and a public library bearing
his name contains about 15,000 volumes. Gardening and
fishing occupy many of the inhabitants. The trade is
brisk, corn being the principal item, while next come
potash, wool, fruits, wooden wares, and manufactured pro-
duce. The Simbirsk fair, having a turnover of some 6
million roubles, still maintains its importance. The popu-
lation (24,600 in 1867) was 36,600 in 1880.
SIMEON (\W^), second son of Jacob by Leah (Gen.
xxix. 33). The tribe of Simeon, like that of Levi, was
broken up at a very early period, under circumstances of
which we have some indication in Gen.' xxxiv. and xlix.
(see Israel, vol. xiii. p. 400 sq., and Levites). In Judges
i. the Simeonites appear as sharing the conquests of Judah
in the extreme south of Canaan, but there is no mention
of them in this region in 1 Sam. xxx., and the tribe is
not named at all in the blessing of Moses. It reappears,
however, in 1 Chron. iv. 24-43 (cf. xii. 25), and is reckoned
to the kingdom of Ephraim (2 Chron. xv. 9 ; xx'xiv. 6).
The Arabian wars of Simeon spoken of in 1 Chron. iv.
have been connected by Hitzig and others with a supposed
Israelite kingdom of Massa, which they find in Prov. xxxi.
1, translating "Lemuel, king of Massa," and comparing
Gen. XXV. 14 and Isa. xxi. 11 sq., where, however, it is
quite gratuitous to suppose an embassy to the prophet
from Israelites in Arabia. The whole speculation and
the further development of Dozy (The Israelites in Mecca)
is fanciful ; cf. Wellhausen, Prolegomena, Eng. tr., pp. 212
sq. The heroine of the book of Judith is made to be cf
the tribe of Simeon, but this book is quite unhistorical.
SIMEON OF Durham. See Symeon.
SIMEON STYLITES. See Monacbism, vol. xvi. p.
701.
SIMFEROPOL, the capital of the Russian government
of Taurida, is situated in the south-western part of the
Crimea, on the Salghir (which frequently becomes dry),
900 miles from Moscow. Occupying an admirable site on
the northern slopes of the Tchatyr-dagh, it has on the
eastern side many beautiful gardens, and is divided into
two parts, — the European, well built in stone, and the
Tartar, which consists of narrow and filthy streets peopled
by Tartars and Jews. Although it has grown somewhat
since the railway brought it into connexion with the rest
of the empire, it still remains a mere administrative centre,
without either manufacturing or commercial importance.
The population was 16,550 in 1866 and 29,030 in 1881.
In the neighbourhood stood the small fortress Napoli, erected
by Skilur, the ruler of Taurida, some hundred years before the
Cliristian era, which existed until the end of the 3d century.
Afterwards the Tartars had here their settlement Ak-mctohut,
which was in the 17th century the residence of the chief military
commander of the khan, and had' the name of Sultan-serni. In
173G it was tiikeu and burut by the Russians, and in 1784, after
the conquest of Crimea by the Russians, it received its present
name and became the capital of Taurida.
SIMLA, a small district in the lieutenant-governorsiiip
of the Punjab, India, situated among the hills of the lower
Himalayan system in 31° 6' N. Jat. and 77° 11' E. long. It
consists of several detached jilota of territory, together com-
prising an area of only 18 square miles. The mountains
of Simla and the surrounding native states compose tlie
southern outliers of the great central chain of the costeru
Himalayas. They descend in a gradual series from (he
78
S I M — S I M
main chain to the general level of the Punjab plain, form-
ing a transverse south-westerly spur between the great
basins of the Ganges and the Indus. A few miles north-
east of Simla the spur divides into two main ridges, one
following the line of the Sutlej in a north-westerly direc-
tion, and the other, crowned by the sanatorium of Simla,
trending south-eastwards, till it meets at right angles the
mountains of the outer Himalayan system. South and
east of Simla the hills between the Sutlej and the Tons
centre in the great peak of Chor, 11,982 feet above the
sea. Throughout all the hills forests of deodar abound,
while rhododendrons clothe the slopes up to the limit of
perpetual snow. The principal rivers here are the Sutlej,
Pabar, Giri Ganga, Chambar, and Sarsa. The scenery of
the immediate neighbourhood of Simla is very grand and
picturesque, presenting a series of magnificent views.
The climate is considered highly salubrious and admirably
adapted to European constitiUions ; the district has there-
fore been selected as the site of numerous sanatoria aud
cantonments. The average annual rainfall amounts to
about 72 inches.
The population of the district in 1881 was 42,945 (males 2?, 593,
females 15,352) ; Hindus numbered 32,428, Mohammedans 6935, and
Christians 3353. Cultiration is widely carried on in all the lower
valleys of the hills, and the fields are sown with maize, pulses, or
taillet for the autumn and with wheat for the spring harvest.
Poppy, hemp, turmeric, ginger, and potatoes form the principal
staples raised for e.vportation to the plains. The trade of the district
centres mainly in the bazaars of Simla, which forms a considerable
entrepot for the produce of the hills. Another important traJe-
■ centre is the town of Rampur on the Sutlej, from which the great
part of the shawl-wool (pashm) finds its way for exportation to
British India.
The acquisition of the patches of territory forming the district
dates from various times subsequent to the close of the Gurkha War in
1815-16, which left the British in possession of the whole tract of
hill-country from the Gogra to the Sutlej. Kumaun and Dehra
Dun were annexed to the British dominions, but the rest, with the
exception of a few localities retained as military posts and a portion
sold to the raja of PatiAla, was restored to the hill rajas, from whom it
had been wrested by the Gurkhas. Garhwal state became attached to
the North-Western Provinces, but the remaining principalities rank
among the dependencies of the Punjab, and are known collectively
as the Simla Hill States, under the superintendence of the deputy-
commissioner of Simla, subcrdinate to the commissioner at Ambala.
SIMLA, the administrative headquarters of the above
district, smd the summer capital of India, stands at an
elevation of 7084 feet above sea level. Since the ad-
ministration of Sir John Lawrence (1864) it has been the
resort, during the hot weather, of the successive governors-
general of India, with their secretaries and headquarters
establishments. In 1881 it had a population of 13,258.
SIMMS, William Gilmore (1806-1870), an American
poet, novelist, and historian, was born at Charleston, S.C.,
April 17, 1806, of Scoto-Irish descent. His mother died
during his infancy, and his father having failed in business,
and joined Coffee's brigade of mounted Indian fighters,
which kept him in the Seminole country, young Simms
was brought up by his grandmother, who gave him as good
an education as her limited means would allow. He was
clerk in a drug store for some years, and afterwards
studied law, the bar of Charleston admitting him to
practice in 1827, but he soon abandoned his profession for
literature. At the age of eight he wrote verses, and in
his 19th year he produced a Monody on Gen. Charles
iCotesivorlh Finckney. Two years later, in 1827, Lyiical
[and Other Poems and Early Lays appeared; and in 1828
he began journalism, editing with conspicuous ability and
partly owning the City Gazette — a paper opposed to the
(doctrine of nullification. The enterprise failed, and the
ieditor devoted his attention entirely to letters, and in
rapid succession published The Vision of Cortes, Cain, and
other Poems (1829), The Tricolor, or Three- Days of Blood
ca Psvrit (1830), aud his strongest poem, Aialantis, a story
of the sea (1832). Atalantis established his fame as th
author, and Martin Faber, the story of a criminal, his
first tale, written in the following year, was warmly
received. From this time forward his writings became
very abundant ; a classified list is given below. Though
sensational and full of excessive colouring, they are held in
good repute in the Southern States. During the American
Civil War Simms espoused the side of the Secessionists in
a weekly newspaper, and suffered damage at the hands of
the Federal troops when they entered Charleston. He
held a seat in the State legislature for some years, and thp
university of Alabama conferred on him the degree of LL.D.
He died at Charleston on 11th June 1870.
Tn addition to the works mentioned above, Simms jmblished the
following poetry :—.SoH(/i<:ra Passages and Pictures, lyrical, senti-
mental, and descriptive poems, 1839; Plonna Florida, 1843; Orovpcd
Thoughts and Scattered Fancies, sonnets, 1S45 ; Arcytos, or Songs
of the South, 1846 ; Lays of thf. Palmetto, 1S48 ; The Eye and the
lining, 1848 ; The Cassigue of Accabce, a Talc of Ashley River,
with other pieces, 1849 ; The City of the Silent, 1850. Todianiatic
literature he contiibiited Norman Maurice, or the Man of tlie
People ; Michael Bonham, or the Fall of the Alavio ; and a stagq
adaptation of Timon of Athens, all of which have been <cted
with success. His revolutionary romances arc — The Partisan,
1S35 ; Mellichanipe, 1836 ; Katherine Walton, or the Krb,.l of
Dorchester, 1851 ; The Scout (originally The Kinsman), o; the
Black Jlidcrs of the Congaree, 1841 ; Woodcraft (originally named
The Sword and the Distaff), and Eutaw, 1856. These tales dcsri ibe
social life at Charleston, and the action covers the wlioh re-olu-
tionary period, with faithful portraits of the political ai d mil tary
leaders of the time. Of border tales the list includes Guy Rt 'crs,
a Tale of Georgia, 1834 ; Richard Hiirdis; 1838 ; Border Pea les,
1840; Beauehampe, 1842; Helen Ealsey, 1845; The Golden
Christmas, 1852; and Charlemont, 1856. The historical romances
are The Yemassee, 1835, by far the greatest of his works, and
dealing largely with Indian character and nature ; Pclayo, 1) 38 ;
Count Julien, 1845 ; The Damsel of Darien, 1845 ; The Lily fnd
the Totem; Vasconselos, 1857, which he wrote under the assu neJ
name of " Frank Cooper" ; and The Cassigue of Kiawah, 1860.
Other novels, belonging to the series of which Martin Faber wa.s
the first, and treating principally of domestic life and motive, are
Carl Werner, 1838 ; Confession of the Blind Heart, 1842 ; The
Wigwam aiul the Cabin, a collection of short tales, 1845-46 ; Co \tle
Dismal, 1845 ; and Marie de Berniere, 1853. Simms's ol ler
writings comprise a History of South Carolina ; South Carol 'na
in the Revolution, 1854 ; A Geography of South Carolina ; lives of
Francis Marion, Capt. John Smith, The Chevalier Bayard, i iid
General Greene ; The Ghost of my Husband, 1866 ; and li ar
Poetry of the South, — an edited volume, — 1867. Simms was als -^a
frequent contributor to the magazines and literary papers, sl.t of
which he founded and conducted. He wrote on a great varietj of
subjects, and discussed with spirit and boldness the le.iding
political, social, and literary topics of the day. In the discussion
on slavery he upheld the views of the pro-slavery party. He
edited the seven dramas ascribed ^o Shakespeare, with notes and
an introduction to each play. In the capacity of lecturer and
orator, he was in frequent request on public occasions. His
principal orations are The Social Principle tlie True Secret of
National Permanence, 1842; The True Sources of American I -de-
pendence, 1844 ; Self-Development, 1847 ; Poetry of the PractiJil ;
The Battle of Fori Moultrie ; and The Moral Character of Hamlet.
SIMON MAGUS. In the extant documents of the
first three centuries we meet with Simon JIagus in a
threefold aspect : — (1) as Samaritan Messiah attempting
by the aid of Christianity to establish a new religion ; ^)
as founder of a school of Gnostics and as father of heresy ;
(3) as a caricature of the apostle Paul. The Tubingen
critics (Baur, Volkmar, Zeller, Lipsius, and until tbe
year 1878 Hilgenfeld also) have tried to show that the
oldest accounts are those in which Simon is represented in
the last-named aspect; they have accordingly denied his
existence, maintaining that all the features attributed to
him in the oldest sources are accounted for by the life and
personality of Paul. -In particular they w-ould explain
Simon's visit to Kome by the apostle's journey thither,
and furthei would have it that the church tradition of
Peter's having gone to Rome arose solely out of the
supposition that the great apostle who had withstood the
Paul-Simon everywhere else must have followed uD h;»
SIMON MAGUS
79
rictory in the capital of the world also. According to this
view, Simon Magus is an invention of the Jewish Christians,
a distorted Paul, whom the church at large partly accepted
as historical and partly catholicized, adding fresh touches
to the picture of Simon, making him the father of all the
heresies, the head of all the magi, a pseudo-Messiah, and
so forth, but at last destroying the whole point of the
story by add ng that Peter and Paul had jointly overcome
the magian in Eome.
Were this view of the Tubingen critics established,
their whole conception of apostolic and post-apostolic
times would also be proved ; it would have been made
out (1) that legends of an anti-Pauline tendency form the
basis of the tradition of the church ; (2) that the Acts of
the Apostles is a compromise, and rests upon Jewish-
Christian myths in part no longer understood ; (3) that
the ecclesiastical tradition about Peter's journeyings had
its origin merely in those of Paul ; and (4) there would
be established an indisputable example of the production
of biassed and fabricated history within primitive Chris-
tianity so remarkable that upon the ground of it alone we
should bo justified in simply regarding the greater part,
of the historical statements of the first two Christian
centuries as deliberate inventions.
But on no other point are the proofs of the Tubingen
school weaker than in this. Only by inverting the
historical order of the original documents, by dint of
violent assertion, and by declaring with reference to the
most important arguments that they existed in writings
■which now are lost, has it been possible for them to give
even the appearance of sta,bility to their hypothetical
structure. The three assertions of the Tubingen critics
- — (1) that the written sources of the pseudo-Clementine
Homilies and Recoanitions go back to the 1st century,
(2) that already in these Paul has become distorted into
Simon Magus and Peter is represented as having com-
bated the Simon-Paul in' Rome, and (3) that the Acts of
the Apostles, Justin, and other- chureh fathers in their
statements about Simon and about Peter's stay in Rome
depend upon these Jewish-Christian writings — can none
of them be proved. On the other hand, — apart from the
Acts of the Apostles,— the existence of a Samaritan
magus, Simon, in apostolic times, as well as of a sect of
Simonians in the 2d century (in Samaria, and elsewhere
in the Roman empire), is quite conclusively attested
through Justin Martyr, and also through Celsus, Clement,
Hippolytus, and Origen.^ Even the Tiibingen critics
themselves could not deny the existence of a sect of
Simonians ; they have therefore been obliged to advance
' The testimony of Justin derives its great importance from the fact
that he was himself a Samaritan ; ho says expressly {Apol.^ ii. 15 ; see
also Dial.f 120), rov iv rip ^ficp (Ova &(T(Qov5 Kai irAai/ou ^i^uyiavov
iiSdyfiaros Ka-T(rf)p6vj)(Ta. In Apol., i. 26 he makes direct reference
to Simon (see also i. 56), and remarks, (col ffx^'^o*' T^i^vrts fxiv 2a^a-
pets, bkiyoi 5i Kal ^v &\\ois '^Oi/ttrtv, is rhi/ trputrov $thv ^{^aiva
buoKoyuvvrts , ^tfiufa Kal TTpo(7Kvvovffi. Celsus (quoted in Orig. ,
C Cels., V. 62) alludes to a sect of Simonians, and saya they were also
called Helenians; Irenajus {Adv. Ifa:r., i. 23) is acquainted with the
ritual and writings of this sect; Hippolytus {Philosoph., vi. 7-20)
gives extracts from a Simonian book 'Anitjiaa-is ij.iyi\i). Particularly
interesting is the testimony of Origcn (C. Ccls., i. 67; cf. vi. 11):
'Also Simon Magus, the Samaritan, wished to gain disciples by his
magical arts. His impositions were virtually without result at the
time, while at present, in my belief, the number of his adherents
throughout the world does not amount to thirty. And perhaps this
estimate is too high. At most there are only a few in Palestine,
while in the other parts of the world where he desired to make his
name illustrious it is quite unknown. Where it is known, the fact
is entirely duo to the Acts of the Apostles. Christians alone still
«peak of him." Some would fain find a testimony in Joscphus olso ;
but the Jewish conjurer Simon, of Cyprus, mentioned in Anl,, xx.
7 has nothing whatever to do with the Samaritan. Rcnan would
recognize Simon Magus in tha second bemt of Rev. xiii. ; but this
hypothesis is utterly basoUaa,
the desperate theory that the sect arose solely on the basis
of the Jewish-Christian romance of Simon.
The oldest account of Simon Magus occurs in the Acts
of the Apostles. When Philip the evangelist came to
Samaria about 37 a.d. ho found a great religious
movement going on. One named Simon had given himself
out for some great person, and by dint of his extraordinary
works had stirred up and gained over the whole popula-
tion, who took him for the exalted manifestation of the
Divine Power itself. Philip converted the majority of
Simon's adherents; and Simon himself, amaEed at the
deeds wrought by Philip, received baptism, and joined the
evangelist's society. Peter and John then came to Samaris
to impart to the baptized the Holy Ghost by the laying
on of hands ; and Simon ofl'ered the apostles money to
invest him with a like power of conferring the gift. But
Peter sternly rebuked him, exhorting him to repent and
beseech God that the evil thought of his heart might be
forgiven him. Simon thereupon begged the apostles to
pray on his behalf. We have no means of checking this
account, since we possess no other independent source.
The author of the Acts seems to have known nothing
of Simon Magus from other quarters, else he would hardly
have closed the narrative as we have it. Simon is not
yet viewed as hostile to Christianity. There is no justi-
fication for doubt as regards the main points of this
account. That in the fourth decade of the 1st century
a pseudo-Messiah, named Simon, appeared in Samaria;
that he gained a considerable following; that he tried
to effect a union with the Christian missionaries, who,
however, soon perceived his real character and shook him
o'ff, — these facts must be treated as historical.^ They are
vouched for by Justin, whose statement is not borrowed
from the Acts.^ Justin, it is true, makes no direct state-
ment about any relations whatever between Simon and
Christianity, but represents him as one who gave himself
out for God and as the founder of an entirely new religion ;
but, since on the other hand he groups him with Menander
and Marcion, and thinks of him as the devil-sent father
of heretics, it is plain that he kn^w quite well of some
relation between Simon and the Christians.
The conception of Simon as the father of heresy within
the church is in no way suggested in the Acts ; nor has
Justin in the writings which wo possess given any hint of
a reason why Simon should be viewed in such a light. But
the testimony of the Acts (viii. 13) that Simon received
baptism, and for a while joined himself to the Christians,
enables us at least in some degree to understand how he
afterwards got the reputation alluded to. We shall see
presently, moreover, that Simon must have . introduced
certain Christian elements into his teaching.''
Justin has a good deal more about Simon that is not to
be found in Acts : — (1) ho gives his birthplace as Gittha
in Samaria ; (2) he states that Simon came to Rome in
the reign of Claudius, and there by his magical artj
gained some followers, and was taken for a god, and that
a statue was erected to him on the Tiber'' Island with tho
inscription simoni deo sancto ; and (3) he states that
the adherents of Sifnon passed off a woman named Helena,
' The same historical certainty cannot bo claimed for tho meeting
of Peter and Simon, because in tho Acts (ch. i.-xv.) Peter is through-
out pushed to tho front, and because tho motive assigned for his
journey to Samaria is open to some suspicion. Still, tho fact that
oven in tho Jewish-Cliristian Acts of tho Apostlca Peter and Simon
hove personal dealings affords presumptive evidence that they did meet.
' Unfortunately, Justin's Syntagma ogainst tho heretics, in which
ho dealt at greater length with Simon, ia no longer extant; wo «ro
therefore limited to the meagre rcferencca in hia Apoloffy and Dialogue,
and the atatemcnta of later writcra who had read tho Syntagma.
* Justin repeatedly and emphatically says that Simon pretended to
bo a goil. and was regarded by his adherents as tho Supremo God ; tco,
iJial., 120.
80
^IMON MAGUS
•whom lie brought to Rome with him, and who had previ-
ously been a prostitute in Tyre.i as the " first idea " {irpiLrTj
tvvoca) of Simon.
As regards the first of these statements we may point
to a Samaritan village "Git" (Karjet-Git), not quite
3 miles south-south-west from the town of Samaria.^
Justin's account in this particular seems trustworthy. On
the other hand, the allegation that a statue was erected to
Simon in Rome is not authentic,' and consequently most
critics have regarded the narrative of Simon's journey to
Rome as legendary. Some suppose that Justin was led
only through the words of the inscription which he has
wrongly referred to Simon to believe that Simon himself
was in Rome ; others (the Tubingen critics) think, on the
contrary, that Justin had been already acquainted with
the Jewish-Christian Acts of the Apostles, and had thence
learned that Simon (Paul) had gone to Rome and that the
inscription therefore only confirmed him in the belief of
Simon's presence there. But in either case the distinct
assertion of Justin that Simon went to Rome in the time
of Claudius remains unexplained ; for the hypothesis that
Justin added the arrival of Simon under Claudius because
he already knew and credited the legend of Peter's having
lived twenty-five years in Rome deserves no refutation.
Consequently we may assume — seeing there is absolutely
no trace of any influence of the Jewish-Christian legend
upon Justin — that in the Roman community, in the time
of that author, a tradition was current that Simon Magus
visited Rome in the reign of Claudius. We are no longer
in a position to test the trustworthiness of this tradition;
but, seeing there is no indication of any tendency out of
which it could have arisen, we have no ground for declar-
ing it incredible. The fact attested by Justin, Celsus,
and Origen, that there were Simonians also beyond
the limits of Samaria (iv aAXots 'idvecnv), favours the
view that Simon had travelled. With reference, lastly,
to the statement about Helena, we have to observe that
here Justin has reported a doctrine not of Simon but of
the Simonians. Simon, we are to understand, came to
Rome with a woman named Helena, and Lis adherents
afterwards took her for the son mentioned. Justin gave
fuller accounts of Helena and the doctrines of the
Simonians in his Syntagma ; and we know their substance
from Hegesippus, Irena3us, TertuUian, pseudo-Tertullian,
Epiphanius, and Philastrius. Simon, it would appear,
declared himself to be " the highest power " — the Supreme
God Himself ; he taught that among the Jew^s he mani-
fested himself as the Son, in Samaria- as the Father, and
among other nations as the Holy Spirit. Helena, whom
he had purchased in a brothel at Tyre, he gave out to be
his Trpdirr] a'voia, the mother of all, by whom he had called
the angels and archangels into being. She had proceeded
from him, had been initiated into his purposes, had
voluntarily come down from heaven and become the
mother of the angels and powers who created this world ;
but after the completion of her work she had been laid
under bonds by her own children, the world-creating
angels, who desired to be independent, and who knew not
the first father Simon ; they imprisoned her in a human
' This does not come directly from the extant manuscript of Justin's
Apology, but from Eusebius's quotations (Euseb. , ff. £., ii. 13).
^ See Lipsius, QudUn der rom. Petrissage, p. 34.
^ A happy accident of the rarest kind has put us in a position to
correct Justin's statement. In 1574 a stone which had once served as
the base of a statue was dug out upon the Tiber Island. It bore the
following inscription : SEMONi SANco dec', fidio sacrvm (see Orelli,
Inscr., vol. i. p. 337 n., 1860). "Semo Sancus" is a Sabine god
(Ovid, Fast., vi. 213 sq.\ Lactantius, Inst. Div., i. c. 15). The
inscription having been found in the very place where, according to
Justin, Simon's statue must have stood, most scholars suppose, and
rightly, that Justin by mistake confounded "Semo Sancus" with
"Simon Sanctus."
body, ana suDjected her to every affront ; she had to
migrate out of one body into another ; she became, e.g.,
that Helen on whose account the Trojan War was waged ;
finally she found herself in a brothel, out of which Simon
at length rescued her, thereby fulfilling the parable of the
lost sheep. The supreme god — Simon — had come down
in order to redeem his irpin-q oroia, and to bring salva-
tion to all men through the knowledge of himself. He
decided upon this descent on seeing that the angels, from
their desire for supremacy, were in conflict with each
other and were misgoverning the worlds. He assumed
every form necessary for the restoration of lost harmony :
to men he appeared as man, without being really a man,
and in appearance he suffered in Judsa. Henceforth it
was a duty to believe in Simon and Helena, but to
disbelieve the prophets, who were inspired by the world-
creating angels, and not- by Simon. Believers in Simon
are at liberty to do what they will, for by the grace of
Simon should men be blessed — but not on account of good
works. Should a Simonian do anything wicked he is
nevertheless undeserving of punishment, for he is not
wicked by nature but only of his free-will ; the law
proceeded from the world-creating angels, who thought
thereby to enslave their subjects ; Simon, however, will
bring the world, to nought along with the dominion of
those angels, and save all who believe on him. To this it
is added that the Simonians live dissolutely, vie with each
other in the practice of magic, make use of exorcisms,
charms, mystic formulas, itc, and further that they wor-
ship images of Simon (as Zeus) and of Helena (as
Athene), under the names of " The Lord " and " The
Lady."
We Ti\\y regard this account, which, accortjing to
Iren»us, is partly based upon direct statements of the
Simonians the.nselves, as essentially derived from the
Syntagma of Justin.* That we have here before us, not
the genuine teaching of Simon, but the gnosis of the
Simonians is very evident ; this gnosis, however, is just as
much bound up with the person of Simon as is the
Christian gnosis with the person of Jesus Christ. Simon
is the manifested Deity Fimself ; but — and herein lies the
Christian, or more properly the anti-Christian element-
Simon is at the same time represented as Christ, i.e., is
identified with Christ. The fusing together of Simon
and Christ, a syncretistic-gnostic conception of the world
and its creation, and an ethicf! ar.linomianism are the
distinctive features of this new universal religion. That
we have here an attempt to found a new' religion, and that
a world-religion, upon the principle of embodying all
important articles of the older ones, appears also from the
fact that Simon is identified not only with Christ but also
with Zeus, and that Greek legends and mythologies are
utilized for the system. We have therefore in Simon-
ianism a rival system to Christianity, in which the same
advantages are offered, and in which accordirigly Curisiian
elements are embodied, even Christ Him.self being iden-
tified with the Supreme God (Simon). The attempt to
establish such a system in that time of religious syncretism
has nothing incredible about it ; and in view of the
religious conditions then prevailing in the locality it can
easily be understood that it proceeded from a Samaritan.
* This work must also have had something to say about the rel.a-
tions of Simon to other Samaritan pseudo-Messiahs, viz., to Dositheus,
Cleobulus, and Menander (see Hegesippus, quoted by Eusebius, //. Ii.,
iv. 22); but the nature of its statements can no longer be with cer-
tainty ascertained. We are in the dark especially as to the relation
between Simon and Dositheus. But the mere fact that in Samaria,
in the time of the apostles, so many Messi.ahs purporting to be
founders of religions should have appeared on the scene is extremely
interesting. It is a very noteworthy circumstance also that Justin,
Hegesippus, and Irenfeus knew not'-in? about Peter baving met.
Simon in Rome, and having withstood him there.
dlMON MAGUS
81
The basis of it was laid by Simon himself, who claimed to
be a god and yet derived something from the Christian
missionaries ; but the development was due to his followers
in the 2d century, who may have borne to the original
Simonians exactly the same relation as did the Valentinians
to the first Christians. From the circles of these later
Simonians, who worshipped Simon especially under the
mysterious name of '■ The Standing,''^ a book was issued
bearing the title 'H d7ro0ao-is ■>) /xeydXij, from which Hip-
polytus has given us extracts in the Philosopkumena.
From these it appears — as indeed might have been expected
from the statements of Irensus (Justin) — that the later
Simouianisra combined the worship of Simon with a com-
plicated Gnostic system, for which it utilized the Greek
mythology, as well as isolated sayings of the Old Testa-
ment, of the Gospels, and of the apostolic epistles. In point
of form, design, medium, and relationship to Christianity,
Simonianism bears a striking resemblance to Manichseism,
which sprang up two centuries later; but Mani did not so
bluntly as Simon lay claim to be a god, and the Manichaeans
never had the hardihood to proceed to absolute identification
of Mani with Christ; as regards their tenets, however, and
viewed as attempts to found a universal religion, Simonian-
ism and Manichaeism are widely different.
We can understand, then, how it was that the Christ-
ians in the 1st and 2d centuries regarded Simon as the
emissary of devils and the father of all heresy ; and we
can also understand why- — apart from Samaria — this
effort to establish a new religion bore little fruit. It rests
upon falsifications and a wild jumbling of religions, while
it is lacking in religious elements of its own.
Until about the year 220 ecclesiastical tradition knows Simon
only a3 a devil-inspired founder of a religion, and as father of
heresy ; it sees in him a caricature of Christ, not of the apostle
Paul, and it knows nothing about Peter having again confuted
him after what is narrated in Acts viii. It knows indeed that
Simon came to Rome in the time of Claudius, but previous to
the 3d century no ecclesiastical writer mentions his having met
with Peter there, although all state that Peter went to the capital.
The first ecclesiastical author to combine the two traditions was
Hippolytus {Philos. , vi. 20). Having referred to the events narrated
in Acts viii., he proceeds : " Simon even went to Rome, and there
met with the apostles. As he led many astray through his sorceries,
Peter frequently withstood him. He came at last . . .- and
taught sitting under a plane-tree. When after lengthened reason-
ing Simon was on the point of being worsted, he declared that if lie
were to be buried alive he would on the third day rise again. He
actually caused a grave to be du" for him by his disciples, and gave
orders that he should be buried. The disciples ^id as they were
bid ; he remains in the grave, however unto this day, for ho was
notChrist." This legend is found only in Hippolytus; itevidently
correspopds with the idea that Simon was a false Christ, but has no
relation whatever with the notion that he was Paul. Hippolytus,
moreover, does not say that in Rome Simon met with Petet only, '
but with the apostles, i.e., with Paul and Peter. The origin of
the legend is very intelligible from what we know of the historical
premises. Given that Simon alleged himself to be Christ, that in
Samaria ho met with Peter, that he as well as Peter afterwards
travelled to Rome, then we can very easily explain the origin of a
legend which brings Peter once more into personal contact with
Simon in Rome, and alleges that Simon became the victim of his
uefarious mimicry of Christ
At the same time the expression Tlphs ^l/iuva iro\x4 n^rpoj if
Pm^j) iyaaaTtaTri makes it seem a probable thing to many that
Hippolytus already knew of that legend about Simon in which the
Tuoingen critics think they have found the key to all traditions
about him. In the pseudo-Chmentine Hecogniiicms and Jlomilies,
or rather in their documentary sources, Simon plays a very im-
portant part. He appears as the representative of all possible
nemsies, and as the great antagonist of Peter, who followed him
up throughout Samaria and the east coast of the Mediterranean,
engaging him in great disputations, and ajways coming off the
victor. Some of the features attributed in these legends to Simon
are indisputably borrowed from the apostle Paiu, others from
Marcion, others from Valeutinus and Basilidos. Those legends
' Clem., Strom., ii. 11, 62; HippoL PUlosoph., vi. 7 eq.: i iffrds,
' A hiatus occurs in the text hero.
22-6
therefore arose in strict Jewish-','hristian anti-Pauline circles ; we
find them, however, in the Mecognilions and Homilies already sub-
jected to catholic revision. This revision cannot have taken place
before the first half of the 3d century, and probably is of much
later date. The age of the documentary sources cannot be exactly
determined ; they may be very old ; but what is of most importance
is (1) that their inlluence upon church tradition cannot be traced
before the 3d century, and (2) that in those JeWish-Christiaa
sources, as well as iu the Homilies and Recognitions themselves,
only disputations between Peter and Simon in Samaria and adjacent
countries are narrated, nothing whatever being said of any con-
troversies between Simon and Peter in Rome. Even if, therefore,
the Simon of the Jewish-Christians bears unmistitkabie 'traces of
Paul, it is also true on the other hand that these Jewish-Christians
knew nothing of a journey of Simon to Rome. Hence all the com-
binations of the Tiibingen critics as to the origin of the " Peter
tradition," and as to the origin of the statement that Simon came
to Rome, completely fall to the ground. Hippolytus was the first
to combine "Peter in Rome" and "Simon in Rome," without
knowing anything whatever of a Simon-Paul legend. Not until
after his day, after the Jewish-Christian legends had become
naturalized in the catholic church through the medium of the
Recognilions and Homilies, did these legends become current within
the church, and only there. It now began to be told that Paul
and Peter' had gone to Rome to withstand Simon. Simon
was now represented partly in accordance with those Jewish-
Christian legends, the tendency of which was not understood.
Much, however, that was new was added, such as that Simon
appeared before the einperor, that he miserably perished in
attempting to fly, and so on. From the 3d (or rather 4th)
century the Simon of church tradition becomes invested with some
features of Paul in a distorted form. The Reeognilioois, as trans-
lated by Rufinus, were extensively read iu the East, and, along with
the Acts of the Apostles, kept fresh the memory of the great magian
and his Helena in the Middle Ages. Simon also came to figure in
popular literature. " Doctor Faustus " has preserved several
traits of the ancient magian. Neither are Pauliie characteristics
wanting in the legendary Faustus ; they are traceable even in the
Faust of Goethe, the " homunculus " of the Simon-Faust being
originally a travesty of the " new man " who according to Paul is
created through the Gospel. It was not only as the great magian,
however, that Simon remained known to the Middle Ages, but
also as the first who attempted to purchase spiritual gifts with
money, an association made permanent in the word "simony."
Sources.— kiAa vlll. 6-24; Justin, Apol, I. 2f>-5S, U. 14, and Dial.c. Tryph.,
120; Hegesippus, ap. Euseb., H. B., iv. 23; Celsus, ap. Orlg., C. Cils., v. 62;
IrenKUS, Adv. Uxr., i. 23, e( al.\ TertuIUan, De IdotoL, 9, Apolog., 13, Dt Prm-
script., 10-33. Di Anima. 34^57, De Fuga, 12 ; Clement Ales., Strom., U. 11, 52, Til.
17, 107; Hippolytus, Sgntagma (Pseudo-TertuU., Philastr., 29, Epiph., jffirr., 21),
Philos., vi. 7-20; Origen, C. Cels., I. «7, vi. 11, and w. 11.; Euseblus, IT. B^, Ii. 1,
14 s^.; Ai-nobius, Adv. Otnles, ii. 12; Fseu6o-Cyp\-i&n. De Jtebapt., 16, 17; Pseudo-
Ignatius, Ad. Trail., 11 ; Ilomil. Pseudo-Ctementis, vv. II,; Reccgnit. Pseudo-Clem.,
vy. 11.; Cyril, Catech., vi. 16 ; Jerome, De Vir. ill, 1, Com. in Matlh., c.24; ConstU.
Aposl., vi. 809; Ambrose, Uexaetn., iv. 8; Sulpiciua Severus, Htst., 11. 41; Theo-
doiet, H. F., 1. 1 ; Acta Petri et Pauli, 49 ; Acta Pseudo-MarcelH, Pteudo-Lini,
Pseudo-Abdix, <kc.
Sources for SamaHlan Pseudo-Messiahs contemporary with Simon. — (\) For
Dositlieus: Hegesippus, ap. Euseb.. .ff.,£., iv. 22; Hippolytus, 5jm*a?ma(l*8eudo-
Tertull., Philast., 4, and Epiph.. Bxr., 13); Recognit. Pseudo-Clementis, 1. 64, U.
8-11; Oiigen, C. Cels., 1. 57, vi. 11, De Princip., Ir. 17, Camm. in Matth., scr.
32, Hom. S5 in Luc, in Joh., xlli. 27; Constit. Aposl., vi. 6 ; Euseblus, in iuc.see
Mm!, Vet. Script. Nova Collect., I. 1, p. 155; Opus imperfect, in Matth., Itom. 4^i ;
MacariUB Magnus, Apocrit., iil. 43, iv. 15. 21. (2) For Menander : Justin, Apot.
I. 26, 66; Hegesippus, ap. Euseb., M. £., iv. 22; Irenjeus, Adv. Uxr., 1. 23 IU. 4;
TertuIUan, De Anima, 30, 60, De liesurr., 6 ; Hippolytus, Syntagma, &c. (8) For
CleobniQS (Cleoblus): Hegesippus, ap. Euseb., JI. £., iv. 22 ; Constit. Apost.. vi. 8,
16; Pseudo-Chrysostom, Horn. U8 in Matth., opp. vl. p. cxcix; Pseudo-Ignat.,
Ep. ad Trait., ii. ; Epiphanlns, Uar. 61, 6 ; Theodoret, B. f ., 1. L priKf., 1. U. pr«>/.;
Ep. Apacr. Pauli ad Cor., Ac.
Literature.—U&MC, " Die Christusparthcl in Korinth," in-theT^i'lV" Zeitschrift,
1831, parti p. 116«?.; Haur, Paulus, Isted. (184y, pr85 «y., 218»9., 2d cd., p. M
so.; Baur, Das Christenthum der drci ersten Jahrhunderte. 2d ed., p. 86 sq.', SlnisoD,
' Leben und Lehre des Simons des Maglera," in tlie Zeilschrift f. llift. Tfieot.,
1841, part 3; Schlurick, i)« SimOTiij M. /aiis romanis. Meissen, 18+4; Hllgcnfcid,
Die Clementinischen Recognitionen und Homilien, 1848, p. 317 sq.; Zeller, Apostd-
geschichte, 1854, p. 168 sq.; Uhlhom, Die Uomilicn und Recognilionendes Ciemtnt
/for/ianu4, 1864, p. SO*^. , 281 57.; Grimm, Die Samaritaner, iSM, p. 161 j^VoIk-
mar, "Ueberden Simon Magus der Apostclgcscliiciite," In the TUbinff. Theol.
Jahrb., 1856, p. 279 sq.; Noack, " Simon der Magicr," in Psyche, 1S60, p. 257 sq.;
F. K., '* Ueber das Denkmal des Mugiers Simon lu Rom." In tiio IJiitorisch-Potit.
Blatter, vol. xlvll., 1861, p. 630 sq.\ GInzel, In tlio Oeslr. ritrlcljahrschr. /. Kathol.
Theol., vol. vi. 1867, p. 4.'(5 sq.; see also his Kirciienhist. Schri/tm, Vienna, 187J,
vol. I. p. 76 sq.; Rcnnn, Lcs Ap6trts and L'Antechrist ; Hllgenfeld, " Der Magler
Simon," In the Ztitschr.f. iciu. Theol., 1868, p. 357 sq., 1874, p. 294 sq., 1878, p.
32 sq., 1881, p. 16; Hueiscn, Simonis Magi vita doctrinaque, Berlin, 1868; Lipsioa,
Die Quellen der rdmischtn Pelnu-Sdge, 1872 ; HarnuA, Zur Quellenltnitt dtr
Oeschlchle des OnoslicismuM, 1873; Joh. DelllMrh, "Zur Quclleiikrilik dor
mtpstcn Berichto liber Simon Pcti-us nnd Simon Mngus," In Throl. Studien und
Kritiken, 1874, part 2, p. 213 sq.; LIpsius, " Simon Magus," In Ech^nkeTB Itibel-
lexicon, vol. v., 1875, p. 301 19.; Ibid., " Potrus In Hom," In the Jahrbb./. Protest.
Theol., 1876, p. 661 sq.; Hllgenfeld, Die Kttiergrschichte des Urchritlmihumx
1884, p. 103 <y., 463 »9.; Mocller "Simon Magus," In Hcrjog's R. Encykl., .M oj
vol. xiv. p. 246 sq.; Hbso, Kirchengeschichle au,f der Grundlage akadem. Yorler
?art 1, 1885, p. 156 sq.; also tiio coramcntatles to Iho Acta of tlie Apostlrs by
leyer, Overbeck, Wendt, and others ; the accouuta of Gnosticism by Ncandcr,
Itiiur, MUlier, LIpsius, Mansel, and others; and tba numerous Investigations with
rcferenco to tho sojoum.of Peter In Romo. (A. HA.)
• See AiUa Pauli et Petri.
B2
SIMON
SIMON, 'Abraham (1622-1692), medallist and mod-
eller, was born in Yorkshire in 1622. He was originally
intendgd for the church, but turned his attention to art,
and, after studying in Holland, proceeded to Sweden,
where he was employed by Queen Christina, in whose
train he travelled to Paris. He returned to England
before the outbreak of the Civil War, and attained
celebrity by his medals and portraits modelled in wax.
During the Commonwealth he executed many medals of
Reading Parliamentarians, and at the Restoration he was
patronized by Charles IL, from whom he received a
hundred guineas for his portrait designed as a medal for
the proposed order of the Eoyal Oak. Having incurred
the displeasure of the duke of York, he lost the favour of
the court, and died in obscurity in 1692. Among the
more interesting of his medals are those of the second
earl of Dunfermline, the second earl of Lauderdale, and
the first earl of L'oudon ; that of the duke of Albemarle,
and many other fine medals,' were modelled by Abraham
Simon and chased by his younger brother Thomas, noticed
below.
SIMON, EicHARD (1638-1712), the "father of Biblical
criticism," was born at Dieppe on the 13th May 1638.
His early studies were carried on at the college of the
Fathers of the Oratory in that city. He was soon, by the
kindness of a friend who discerned the germs of those
talents which were afterwards to render him so celebrated,
removed to Paris and enabled to enter upon the study of
theology, where he early displayed a taste for Hebrew
and other Oriental languages. He was allowed great
indulgence in the prosecution of his studies by the
authorities of the Congregation of the Oratory, being
exempted from those exercises of piety which for an
entire year were binding on the other students. This
dispensation aroused the ill-will and jealousy of the other
Oratorian novitiates. Simon was charged with reading
"heretical" books, this designation being applied to
Walton's Polycjlott, the Critici Sacri, and other works of a
similar kind. But this jealous opposition proved abortive.
Simon, after investigation, was allowed and encouraged
to continue his favourite pursuits. At the end of his
theological course he was sent, according to custom, to
teach philosophy at Juilly, where there was one of the
colleges of the Oratory. But he was soon recalled to
Paris, and employed in the congenial labour of preparing
a catalogue of thQ Oriental books in the library of the
Oratory. ■ This ga^e him full access to those works, the
fruits of the study of which appear so fully in his after
writings. His first essay in authorship was the publication
of a work entitled Fides Ecclesisc Orientalis, seu Gabrielis
Metropolitm Philadelphiensis Opuscula, cum interpretations
Latina, cum notis (Paris, 1671), the object of which was
to demonstrate that the belief of the Greek Church
regarding the Eucharist was the same as that of the Church
of Rome. Simon entered the priesthood in 1670, and the
same year wrote a pamphlet in defence of the Jews of Jletz,
who had been accused, as they have so often been before
and since, of having murdered a Christian child. It was
shortly before this time that there were sown the seeds of
that enmity with the Port Royalists which filled Simon's
after life with many bitter troubles. The famous Arnauld
had written a work on the Perpetuity of the Faith, the first
volume of which treated of the Eucharist. M. Diroys, a
doctor of theology, and a friend of Arnauld's, asked Simon
his opinion of the book Simon replied that it was one
of the best works which had been published by the Port
Royalists, but that it nevertheless required correction in
several important passages, and agreed reluctantly, and
after some delay, at Diroys's request, to write a letter
referring to these passages, on the understanding that the
original was to be returned to him. The criticisms of
Simon excited great indignation among the friends and
admirers of Arnauld, and he felt the effects of their vin-
dictiveness to the latest hour of his life. Another matter
was the cause of inciting against him the ill-will of the
monks of the Benedictine order. A friend of Simon's, one of
the Oratorians, was engaged in a lawsuit, in his capacity
as grand vicar of Prince Neubourg, abbe of Fecamp, with
the Benedictine monks of that establishment. Simon lent
to his friend the aid of his powerful pen, and composed a
memorandum in which he employed pretty strong language
against the opponents of his friend. They were greatly
exasperated, and made loud complaints to the new genera!
of the Oratory that they were virulently assailed by a
member of the brotherhood, with which they had always
been on friendly terms. The charge of Jesuitism was also
brought against Simon, apparently on no other ground than
that his friend's brother was an eminent member of that
order. The commotion in ecclesiastical circles was great,
and it was seriously contemplated to remove Simon not
only from Paris but from France. A mission to Rome was
proposed to him, but he saw through the design, and,
after a short delay dictated by prudential motives, declined
the proposal. He was engaged at the time in superin-
tending the printing of his HiMoire Critique du Vieux
Testament. He had hoped, through the influence of Pere
la Chaise, the king's confessor, and the Due de Montausier,
to be allowed to dedicate the work to Louis XIV., but as
His Majesty was absent in Flanders at the time the volume
could not be published until the king had accepted the
dedication, though it had passed the censorship of the
Sorbonne, and the chancellor of the Oratory had given his
imprimatur. The printer of the book, in order to promote
the sale, had caused the titles of the various chapters to be
printed separately, and to be put in circulation. These, or
possibly a copy of the work itself, had happened to come
into the hands of his ever-watchful enemies — the Port
Royalists. It seems that, with a view ta injure the sale of
the work, which it was well known in theological circles
had been long in preparation by Simon, the Messieurs de
Port Royal had undertaken a translation into French of
the Prolegomena to Walton's Polyglott. To counteract this
proceeding Simon announced his intention of publishing an
annotated edition of the Prolegomena, and actually added
to the Critical History a translation of the last four chapters
of that work, which had formed no part of his original
plan. Simon's announcement prevented the appearance of
the projected translation, but his enemies were all the
more irritated against him on that account. They had
now obtained the oijportunity, which they had long been
seeking, of gratifying their hatred of the bold Oratorian.
The freedom with which Simon expressed himself on vari-
ous topics, and especially those chapters in which he de-
clared that Moses could not be the author of much in the
writings attributed to him, especially aroused their opposi-
tion. The powerful influence of Bossuet, at that time
tutor to the dauphin, was invoked ; the chancellor Le
Tellier lent his assistance ; a decree of the council of state
was obtained, and after a series of paltry intrigues the
whole impression, consisting of 1300 copies, was seized by
the police and destroyed, and the animosity of his colleagues
in the Oratory rose t(? so great a height against Simon for
having so seriously compromised their order by his work
that he was declared to be no longer a member of their
body. Full of bitterness and disgust Simon retired to the
curacy of Bolleville, to which he had been lately appointed
by the vicar-general of the abbey of Fecamp.
The work thus confiscated in France it was proposed to
republish in Holland. Simon, however, at first opposed
this, in hopes of overcoming the opposition of Bossuet by
S I M — S I M
8c
making certain changes in tbe parts objected to. The nego-
tiations with Bossuet lasted a considerable time, but finally
failed, and the Critical History appeared, with Simon's
name on the title page, in the year 1685, from the press
of Keenier Leers in Rotterdam. An imperfect edition had
previously been published at Amsterdam by Daniel Elzevir,
based upon a MS. transcription of one-of the copies of the
original work which had escaped destruction and had been-
sent to England, and from which a Latin and an English
translation were afterwards made. The edition of Leers
was a reproduction of the work as first printed, with a
new preface, notes, and those other writings which had
appeared for and against the work up to that date.
The vrork which had excited so much controrersy and opposition
consists of three books, the first of which deals with questions of
Biblical criticism, properly so called, such as the text of the Hebrew-
Bible and the changes which it has undergone down to the present
day, the authorship of the Mosaic writings and of other books of
Scripture, with an exposition of his peculiar theory of the existence
during the whole extent of Jewish history of recorders or annalists
of the events of each period, whose writings were preserved in the
public archives, and the institution of which he assims to Moses.
The second book gives an account of the principal translations,
ancient and modern, of the Old Testament, and the third contains
an examination of the principal commentators. He had, with the
exception of the theory above mentioned, contributed nothing really
new on the subject of Old Testament-criticism, for previous critics,
as Cappellus, Jlorinus, an<\, others, had established many points of
importance, and the value 6f Simon's work consisted chiefly in
bringing together and presenting at one view the results of Old
Testament criticism. The work is written in a clear style, and its
tone is confident and frequently sarcastic. He displays great con-
ten^pt for tradition and the opinions of the fathers. This latter
peculiarity it was which specially aroused the enmity of Bossuet and
other leading Komanists. But it was not only from the Cliurch of
Rome that the work encountered strong opposition. The Protestants
felt their stronghold — an irlfallible Bible — assailed by the doubts
which Simon raised against the integrity of the Hebrew text. Le
Clerc (" ClericLis"), the distinguished Dutch divine and critic, in
his work Sentimms de quclques Theologicns de Hollande, controverted
the views of Simon, and was answered by the latter in a tone of con-
siderable asperity in his R^onse aux Sentimens de quelques Theo-
logicns de Hollande, which he signed under the name of Pierre
Ambrun, it'beLng a marked peculiarity of Simon rarely to give his
own name, but to assume noma de gtierre at various times.
The remaining viiko.if Simon may be briefly noticed. In 1689
appeared Lis Bistoire CrUique du Texte du Nouwau Testament,
consistii-f, of thirty-three chapters, in which he discusses the
origin and character of the various books, with a consideration of
the objections brought against them by the Jews and others, the
quotations from the Old Tesvament in the New, the in.spiration of
the New Testament (with a refutation of the opinions of Spinoza),
the Greek dialect in which they are written (against Salmasius),
the Greek MSS. knftwn at the time, especially Codex D (Canta-
brigionsis), &c. This was followed in 1690 by his Ilistoire
Critique des Versions du No\iveau Testament, where he gives an
account of the various translations, both ancient and modem, and
discusses the manner in which njany difficult passages of the Now
Testament have been rendered in the various versions. In 1093
was published what in some respects is the most valuable of all his
writmgs, viz., Ilistoire Critique des prineipaux Cojnmentatenrs du
Nouveau Testament depuis le commencement du Christianisme jusques
d noire temps. This work exhibits immense' reading, and the
information it contains is still valuable to the student. The last
work of Simon that we shall mention is his Nouvcllcs Observations
rur le Tcxte el Ics Versions du Nouveau Testament (Paris, 1695),
which contains supplementary observations upon, the subjects of
the text and translations of the New Testament.
Simon is described^ as a man of middle stature, with
somewhat unprepossessing features. Ttia temper was
sharp and keen, and as a controversialist ho displayed a
bitterness of tone and an acerbity of expression which
tended only to aggravate the unpleasantness of controversy.
He was entirely a. man of intellect, free from all tendency
to sentimentality, and with a strong vein of sarcasm and
satire in his disposition. His reading was immense, and
his memory powerful and retentive. He is said to have
usually prosecuted his studies lying on the floor of his
apartment, on a pile of carpets or cushions. Few men have
written more that b worth reading on Biblical subjects
than he, considering the hardships and vicissitudes of his
chequered life. He died at his native city of Dieppe on
the 11th April 1712, at the age of seventy-four.
The principal authorities for the life of Simon are the life or
"eloge by his grand-nephew De la Martiniere in vol. i. of the
Leltrcs Choisies, 4 vols., Amsterdam, 1730; Grafs article in the
first vol. of the .Sci^r. zu. d. Thcol. TVissensch., kc, Jena, 1851;
Reuss'fl article in Herzog's Encyklopddie, vol, xiv. , new cd. ; Ricliard
Simon et son Vieux Testament, by A. Beruus, Lausanne, 1 869. For
the bibliography, see, in addition to the various editions of Simon's
works, the very xomplete and accurate account of Bernus, Notice
Hibliographique stir Jiichard Simon, Basel, 1882. (F. 0.)
SIMON, Thomas (1623?-16G.5), medallist, was born,
according to Vertue, in Yorkshire about 1623. He
studied engraving under Nicholas Briot, and about 1635
received a post' in coune.'cion with the Mint. In 1645 he
was appointed by the Parliament joint chief engraver
along with Edward AVade, and, having executed the great
seal of the Commonwealth and dies for the coinage, he
was promoted to be chief engraver to the mint and seals.
He produced several fine portrait medals of Cromwell, one
of which is copied from a miniature by Copper. After
the Restoration he was appointed engraver of the king's
seals. On the occasion of his contest with the brothers
Roettiers, who were employed by the. mint in 1662, Simon
produced his celebrated crown of Charles U., on the
margin of which he engraved a petition to the king,
setting forth the excellence of his own productions and
praying for redress. This is usually considered his
masterpiece. An impression of the coin fetched i/225 at
an auction in 1832. This admirable medallist is believed
to have died of the plague in London in 1665.
A volume of Tfie Medals, Coins, Great Seals, and other Worl-s
of Thomas Simon, engraved atid described by George Vertue, was
published in 1753.
SIMONIDES (or Semonides, as some write the name)
OP Amoeoos stands midway both in time and reputation
between the other two iambic poets of Greece — Archilochus
and Hipponax. A native of Samos, he led a colony to the
island of Amorgos in the Archipelago, and lived thare
about 660 B.C. in Minoa, a town of his own founding.
• Besides two books of iambics, we are told that he wrote
elegies, and a poem on the early history of the Samians;
but only one insignificant elegy has been with any degree
of plausibility attributed to him. We possess about thirty
fragments of his iambic poem.s, written in clear and
vigorous Ionic, with much force and no little harmony of
versification. With Siraonides, as with Archilochus, the
iambic is still the vehicle of bitter satire, interchanging
with melancholy, but in Simonides the satire is rather
general than individual, and in other respects, especially
in his gnomic and reflective tendency, he paves the way
for the tragic trimeter. One of his two longer fragments
dwells pathetically upon the misery of our lot, in which,
as he says elsewhere, " we have many years of death, but
of life only a few sad years"; the other, far his most
famous poem, is a "Pedigree of Women," tracing their
descent from different animals according to their difl"orent
characters. The idea may have been suggested by the
beast fable, as we find it in Ilesiod and Archilochus ; it is
clear at least that Simonides knew the works t« the
former. The same conception recurs a century later in
Phocylides. Simonides derives the dirty woman from a
hog, the cunning from a iox, the fussy from a dog, the
apathetic from earth, the capricious from sea-water, the
stubborn from an ass, the incontinent from a weasel, tlio
proud from a high-bred mare, the worst and ugliest from
an ape, and the good woman from a bee. The remainder
of the poem (vv. 96-118) is undoubtedly spurious. There
is much beauty and feeling in Simonides's descrijition of
the good woman; and the skilful portraits of character and
M
S I M — S I ]M
judicious selection of prominent features prove him to
have been a keen observer and a real artist. .The date of
his death is unknown.
See Bergk, Poetx Lyrici Grmci, vol. ii., Leipsic, 1882, pp. 441-
459. There is a translation in English verse of part of the poem
on women in Mure's Hist, of Gr. Lit., iii. p. 181.
SIMONIDES OF Ceos (556-469 B.C.), one of the
greatest poets and most accomplished men of antiquity, was
born at lulis in the island of Ceos, 556 B.C. Few poetic
natures have ever been planted in more congenial soil.
His native island was devoted to the worship of Apollo, the
god of song ; poetry had been cultivated in his family for
generations ; his youth coincided with the period succeed-
ing the tirst great burst of jEolian and Doric lyric poetry ;
his manhood saw the heroic struggle witl\ Persia, when
Greece first awoke to the consciousness of her national
unity ; and he died before the inevitable disintegration had
begun. Among his friends were all the foremost men of
the day, — kings and princes like Hipparchus and Hiero and
the Aleuadse and Scopadae, statesmen like Pausanias and
Themistocles, and poets like yEschylus, Epicharmus, and
his own nephew Bacchylides. Pindar alone among his con-
temporaries seems to have depreciated Simonides, perhaps
not without a touch of jealousy; by all the rest he was
revered as the poet laureate of emancipated Greece. He
lived for the most part with his friends, whose praises he
had sung for money ; we hear of him at the court of Hip-
parchus in Athens, with the Scopadae in Thessaly,and finally
at the court of Hiero of Syracuse, where he died in 469 B.C.
His reputation as a man of learning and ingenuity is
shown by the tradition that he added two new letters to
the alphabet — ij and <o — the truth being probably that he
was one of the first authors to use these symbols, before
the archonship of Euclides. So unbounded were his popu-
larity and influence that he was felt to be a power even in
the political world ; we are told that he reconciled Thero
and Hiero on the eve of a battle between their opposing
armies. For his poems he could command almost any
price : later writers, from Aristophanes onwards, accuse
him of avarice, probably not without some reason. From
the numerous anecdotes preserved about him we see that
he was what we should infer from his poems, a genial and
courtly man, " dwelling with flowers, — like the bee, seeking
yellow honey " (Fr. 47), yet not without a vein of gentle
irony. To Hiero's queen, who asked him whether it was
better to be born rich or a genius, he replied " Rich, for
genius is ever found at the gates of the rich."
Of his poetry we possess two or three short elegies (Fr. 85 seems
from its style and versification to belong to Simonides of Amorgos,
or at least not to be the work of our poet), several epigram.s, and
about ninety fragments of lyric poetry. The epigrams, wTitten in
the usual dialect of elegy, Ionic with an epic colouring, were
intended partly for public and partly for private monuments.
There is strength and sublimity in the former, with a simplicity
that is almost statuesque, and a complete mastery over the rhythm
and forms of elegiac expression. Those on the heroes of Marathon
and ThermopylK are the most celebrated. In the private epigrams
there is more warmth of colour and feeling, but here it is hard to
decide which are genuine and which spurious ; few of them rest on
any better authority than that of the Palatine anthology. One
interesting and undoubtedly genuine epigram of this class is upon
Archeiiice, the daughter of Hippias the Pisistratid, who, " albeit
her father and husband and brother and children were all princes,
waa not lifted up in soul to pride." The lyric fragments vary
much in character and length : one is from a poem on Artemisium,
and celebrates those who fell at Thermopylse ; another is an ode in
honour of Scopas ; the rest represent odes on victors in the games,
hyporchemes, dirges, hymns to the gods, and other varieties. The
poem on Therraopylje is reverent and sublime, breathing an exalted
patriotism and a lofty national pride ; the others are full of tender
pathos and deep feeling, such as evoked from Catullus the hno
Mosstius lacrimis Simonideis," with a genial worldliness befitting
one who had " seen the towns and learnt the mind of many men.
For Simonides requires.no standard of lofty unswerving rectitude.
" It is hard," he says (Fr. 5), " to become a truly good man, perfect
u a square in hands and feet and mind, fashioned without blame.
Whosoever is bad, and not too wicked, knowing justice, ths
benefactor of cities, is a sound man. 1 for one will find no fault
with him, for the race of fools is infinite I praise and love
all men who do no sin willingly ; but with necessity even the gods
do not contend." Virtue, he tells us elsewhere in language that
recalls Hesiod, is set on a high and difficult hill (Fr. 68) ; let us
seek after pleasure, for "all things come to one dread Charybdis,
both great virtues and wealth " (Fr. 38), and " what life of mortal
man, or what dominion, is to be desired apart from pleasure,
without which even the gods' existence is not to bo envied "
(Fr. 71). Yet Simonides is far from being a hedonist ; his
morality, no less than his art, is pervaded by that virtue for which!
Ceos was renowned— <r(o0poo-w7i or self-restraint. His most cele-'
brated fragment, and one of the most exquisite and touching remains
of ancient poetry, is a dirge, in which Danae, adrift with the infant
Perseus on the sea in a dark and stormy night, takes comfort from
the peaceful slumber of her babe. Simonides here illustrates his
own saying that "poetry is vocal painting, as painting is silent
poetry " (one of the opening remarks in Lessing's Laocoon) : from
the picture of the sleeping child, standing out as if in relief against
the background of surging waves, and Danae in tears, we can well
understand how Longinus should have commended this power
of vivid presentation as a distinguishing feature in another of
Simonides's poems. This poem has been often translated. One
of the best translations is that by Symonds, in the first series
of his Studies on the Greek Poets.
See Bergk, Poetx Lyrici Orseci, vol. Iii., Lelpslc, 1882, pp. 382-535. Welclter
was tile first wlio cleariy sepamted the fragments of tlie Cean Simonides from
tiiose of his namesaiie. Sterling {Essays and Tales, vol. i. pp. 188 sq.'t has a
poetical translation of most of them.
SIMONY is an offence against the law of the church.
The name is taken from Simon Magus {q.v.). In the
canon law the word bears a more extended meaning than
in English law. " Simony according to the canonists,"
says Ayliffe in his Parergon, " is defined to be a deliberate
act or a premeditated will and desire of selling such
things as are spiritual, or of anything annexed unto
spirituals, by giving something of a temporal nature for
the purchase thereof ; or in other terms it is defined to be
a commutation of a thing spiritual or annexed unto
spirituals by giving something that is temporal." An
example of the offence occurs as early as the 3d century
in the purchase of the bishopric of Carthage by a wealthy
matron for her servant, if the note to Gibbon (vol. ii. p.
457) is to be believed. The offence was prohibited by
many councils, both in the East and in the West, from
the 4th century onwards. In the Corpus Juris Canonici
the Decretum (pt. ii. cause i. quest. 3) and the Decretals
(bk. V. tit. 3) deal with the subject. The offender, whether
simoniacus (one who had bought his orders) or simoniace
promotus (one who had bought his promotion), was liable
to deprivation of his benefice and deposition from orders
if a secular priest,- — to confinement in a stricter monastery
if a regular. No distinction seems to have been drawn
between the sale of an immediate and of a reversionary
interest. The innocent simoniace promotvs was, apart
from dispensation, liable to the same penalties as though
he were guilty. Certain matters were simoniacal by the
canon law which would not be so regarded in English
law, e.g., the sale of tithes, the taking of a fee for confes-
sion, absolution, marriage, or burial, the concealment of
one in mortal sin or the reconcilement of an impenitent for
the sake of gain, and the doing homage for spiritualities.
So grave was the crime of simony considered that even
infamous persons could accuse of it. English provincial
and legatine- constitutions continually assailed simony.
Thus one of the heads in Lyndewode (bk. v.) is, " Ne quia
ecclesiam nomine dotalitatis transferat vel pro praesenta-
tione aliquid accipiat." In spite of all the provisions of
the canon law it is well established that simony was
deeply rooted in the mediaeval church. Dante places
persons guilty of simony in the third bolgia of the eighth
circle of the Inferno : —
" 0 Simon mago, O miseri seguaci,
Che le cose di Dio che di bontate
Deono esser spose, voi rapaci
Per oro e oer araento adulterate.' — Inf., xbt. 1.
« I M O N \'
85
The popes themselves were notorious offenders. In the
canto just cited Pope Nicholas III. is made by the poet the
mouthpiece of the simoniacs. He is supposed to mistake
the poet for Boniface VIII., whose simoniaeal practices, as
well as those of Clement V., are again alluded to in Par.
ixx. 147. At a later period there was an open and con-
tinuous sale of spiritual offices by the Roman curia which
contemporary writers attacked in the spirit of Dante. A
pasquinade against Alexander VI. begins with the lines —
" Vendit Alexander claves, altaria, Christum.
Emcrat illo prius ; vendere jure potest."
Machiavelli calls luxury, simon}', and cruelty the three
dear friends and handmaids of the same pope.* The
. colloquy of Erasmus De Sacfrdotiis Captaiulis bears wit-
ness to the same state of things. And, best proof of all,
numerous decisions as to what is or is not simony are to
be found in the reported decisions of the Roman rota.-
That part of the papal revenue which consisted of first-
fruits (primitise or annates) and tenths (decimx) must have
been theoretically simoniaeal in its origin. In England
this revenue was annexed to the crown by Henry VIII.
and restored to the church by Queen Anne (see Queen
Anne's Bounty)
For the purposes of English law simony is defined by Blackstone
as the corrupt presentation of any person to an ecclesiastical
benefice for money, gift, or reward. The olfence is one of purely
ecclesiastical cognizance, and not punishable by the criminal law.
Tlie penalty is forfeiture by the offender of any advantage from
the simoniaeal transaction, of his patronage by the patron, of his
benefice by the presentee. An innocent clerk is under no dis-
ability, as he might be by the canon law. Simony may be com-
mitted in three ways, — in promotion to orders, in presentation to a
benefice, and in resignation of a benefice. The common law (with
which the canon law is incorporated, as far as it is 'not contrary to
the common or statute law or the prerogative of the crown) has
been considerably modified by statute. Where no statute applies
to the case, the doctrines of the canon'law may still be of author-
ity. Both Edward VI. and Elizabeth promulgated advertisements
against simony. The Act of 31 Eliz. c. 6 was intended to reach
the corrupt patron as well as the corrupt clerk, the ecclesiastical
censures apart from the statute not extending to the case of a
patron. The first part of the Act deals with the penalties for
election or resignation of officers of churches, colleges, schools, .
hospitals, halls, and societies for reward." The second part of the
Act provides that if any person or persons, bodies politic and
corporate, for any sum of money, reward, gift, profit, or benefit,
directly or indirectly, or for or by reason of any promise, agree-
ment, grant, bond, covenant, or other assurances, of or for any
snm of money, &c. , directly or indirectly present or collate any
person to any benefice with cure of souls, dignity, prebend, or
living ecclesiastical, or give or bestow the same for or in respect of
»ny each corrupt cause or consideration, every such presentation,
collation, gift, and bestowing, and every admission, institution,
investiture, and induction shall bo void, frustrate, and of none
effect in law ; and it shall be lawful for the queen to present,
collate unto, or give and bestow every such benefice, dignity,
prebend, and living ecclesiastical for that one time or turn only ;
and all and every person or persons, bodies politic and corporate,
that shall give or take any such sum of money, &c. , directly or
indirectly, or that shall take or make any such promise, &c., shall
forfeit and lose the double value of one year's profit of every such
benefice, kc, and the person so corruptly taking, procuring,
seeking, or accepting any such benefice, &c., shall be adjudged a
disabled person in law to have or enjoy the same benefice, &c.
Admission, institution, installation, or induction of any person to
» benefice, &c,, for any sum of money, kc, renders the olTendcr
liable to the penalty alreaily mentioned. But in this case tho
presentation reverts to the patron and not to tho crown. Tho
penalty for corrupt resigning or exchanging of a benefice with
cure of souls is that tho giver as well as tho taker shall lose double
the value of tho sum so given or taken, half tho sum to go to tho
crown and half to a common informer. The penalty for taking
money, kc, to procure ordination or to give orders or licence to
preach is a fine of £10 ; the party so corruptly ordained forfeits
£10 ; acceptance of any benefice within seven years atter such
eorrupt entering into the ministry makes such benefice merely
Toid, and the patron may present as on a vacancy ; the penalties
' See Boscoe, Life of Leo X, vol. I. p. 403.
* Conip;iri; the fine distinctions dniwn by the CB3ulst<i aiul aiucjiod
y PascAl iu the Iweitiu ol '.ttw J'rovincia/ Litf"'
arc divided as in the last case. The Act is cumulative only, and
does not take away or restrain any punishment prescribed by
ecclesiastical law. The Act of 1 Will, and M. sess. 1, c. IC,
guards the rights of an innocent successor in certain cases. It
enacts that after the death of a person simoniacally presented tho
otfcnce or contract of simony shall not be alleged or pleaded to the
prejudice of any other patron innocent of simony, or of his clerk
by him presented, unless the person simoniac or simoniacally pre-
sented was convicted of such ofl'enco at common law or in soma
ecclesiastical court in the lifetime of the person simoniac or
simoni.ically presented. The Act also declares the validity of leases
made by a simoniac or simoniacally-prescntcd person, if bona fid4
and for valuable consideration to a lessee ignorant of the simony.
By 13 Anne c. 11, if any person shall for money, reward, gift,
profit, or advantage, or for any promise, agreement, grant, bond,
covenant, or other assurance for any money, &c., take, procure, or
accept the next avoidance of or presentation to any benefice,
dignity, prebend, or living ecclesiastical, and shall be presented or
collated thereupon, such presentation or collation and every
admission, institution, investiture, and induction upon the same
shall be utterly void ; and such agreement shall be deemed a
simoniaeal contract, and the queen may present for that one turn
only; and the person so corruptly taking, &c. , shall be adjudged
disabled to have and enjoy the same benefice, &c., and shall be
subject to any punishment limited by ecclesiastical law. 3 and 4
Vict c. 113, § 42, jirovides that no spiritual person may sell or
assign any patronage or presentation belonging to him by virtue
of any dignity or spiritual office held by him ; such sale or assign-
ment is null and void. This section has been construed to take
away the old archbishop's "option," i.e., the right to present to a
benefice in a newly appointed bishop's patronage at the option
of the archbishop. By canon 40 of the canons of 1603 an oath
against simony was to be administered to every person admitted
to any spiritual or ecclesiastical function, dignity, or benefice.
By 28 and 29 Vict. c. 122 a declaration was substituted for the
oath, and a new canon incorporating the alteration was ratified by
the crown in 1866. By the canon law all resignation bonds were
simoniaeal, and in 1826 the House of Lords held that all resigna-
tion bonds, general or special, were illegal. Special bonds have
since, however, been to a limited extent sanctioned by law.
9 Geo. IV. c. 94 makes a written promise to resign valid if made
in favour of some particular nominee or one of two nominees,
subject to the conditions that, where there are two nominees, each
of them must be either by blood or marriage an uncle, son, grand-
son, brother, nephew, or^ grand-nephew of the patron, that the
writing be deposited with the registrar of the diocese open to
public inspection, and that the resignation be followed by pre-
sentation within six months of the person for whose benefit tho
bond is made. Cases of simony have come before the courts in
which clergy of the highest rank have been implicated. In 1695,
in the case of Lucy v. The Bishop of St David's, the bishop was
deprived for simony. The Queen's Bench refused a prohibition (1
Lord Raymond's Rep. 447). As lately as 1841 the dean of York
was deprived by the archbishop for simony, but in this case the
Queen's Bench granted a prohibition on the ground of informality
in the proceedings (In the Matter of the Dean of York, 2 Queen's
Bench Rep., 1). The general result of the law gathered from the
statutes and decisions may be exhibited as follows : — (1) it is,not
simony for a layman or spiritual person not purchasing for himself
to purchase while the churcl; is full an advowson or next presenta-
tion, however immediate tho prospect of a vacancy ; (2) it is not
simony for a spiritual person to purchase for himself a life or any
greater estate in an advowson, and to present himself thereto ; (3)
it is not simony to exchange benefices under an agreement that no
payment is to be made for dilapidations on either side ; (4) it is not
simony to make certain assignments of patronnge under the Church
Building and New Parishes Acts (9 and 10 Vict c. 88,*32 and 33
Vict c. 94) , (f)) it is simony for any person to purchase the next pre-
sentation while tho church is vacant ; (6) it is simony for a spiritual
pei-son to purchase for himself the next presentation, though the
church bo full ; (7) it is simony for any person to purchase tho next
presentation, or in the case of purchase of an advowson the next
presentation by tho purchaser will bo simoniaeal iT there is any
arrangement for causing a vacancy to be made ;, (8) it i; simony for
the purchaser of an advowson while the church is vacant to present
on the next presentation ; (9) it is simony to exchange otherwise
than simplieitcr ; no compensation in money may bo made to tho
person receiving the less valuable benefice. 'The law on the subject
of simony has been for some time regarded as unsatisfactory by the
authorities of tho church. The archbishop of Canterbury has under-
taken to introduce into tho House of Lords a bill for the nmcndnieiit
of tho law, tho heads of which have recently (February 1886) Icon
under the consideration of convocation. The bill proposes inter ij/ia
to prohibit the sale of next presentations and of advowsons unlcf*
under certain limitations, to abolish resignation bonds, and to »iil>
Btituto for tho present declaration against simony declarations ihtl
the pc^ponttfO br3 not cnmmilted certain specific autti
86
S I M — S- 1 M
In Scotland simony is an offence both by civil and ecclesiastical
law. The rules are generally those of the canon law. The"ft are
fewdecisionsof Scottish courts on the subject. . By the Act of 1584,
c. 6, ministers, readers, and otljers guilty of simony provided to
benefices were to be deprived. An Act of Assembly of 1753
declares pactions simoniacal whereby a minister or probationer
before presentation and as a means of -obtaining it bargains not to
raise a process of augmentation of stipend or demand reparation
or enlargement of his manse or glebe alter induction. (J. Wt.)
SIMPLICIUS, the successor of Pope Hilarius or
Hilarus, was a native of Tibur, and was consecrated bishop
of Rome on February 25, 468. He died March 2, 483,
and was succeeded by Felix III. His extant letters,
which date from the banishment of Komulus Augustulus
and the early years of Odoacer's reign, relate almost
entirely to the ecclesiastical and court intrigues of
Alexandria and Constantinople in connexion with the
Monophysite controversy.
SIMPLICIUS, a native of Cilicia, a disciple of
Ammonius and of Damascius, was one of the last of the
Neoplatonists. From 400 to 529 a.d. the Neoplatonic
school at Athens was the centre of pagan opposition to
victorious Christianity, and, as such, fell a victim to
imperial persecution. The subvention which it had re-
ceived from the state was withdrawn ; its private property
was confiscated ; and at last in 529 the teaching at Athens
of philosophy and jurisprudence was forbidden (Malalas,
p. 451, ed. Bonn). Disestablished, disendowed, and
silenced, the scholarch Damascius, Simplicius, Priscianus,
and four others resolved ia 531 or 532 to seek the protec-
tion of Khosrau An6sharvAn (or Chosroes), who had
ascended the throne of Persia in the former of these years.
To his court they went; but, though from this patron of
Greek learning they received a h.earty welcome, they
found themselves unable to support a continued residence
amongst barbarians. Before two years had elapsed they
retwned to Greece, Khosrau, in his treaty of peace
concluded with Justinian in 533, expressly stipulating
that the seven philosophers should be allowed " to return
to their own L''me3, and to live henceforward in the
enjoyment of liberty of conscience " (Agathias, ii. 30,31).
After his return from Persia Simplicius WTOte commen-
taries upon Aristotle's De Cselo, Physica, De Anima, and
Categorise, which, with a commentary upon the Enchiridion,
of Epictetus, have survived. In his writings Simplicius,
who had small pretensions to originality of- doctrine,
devotes himself to the exposition and reconciliation of his
authorities. His respect at once for Plato and for
Aristotle is so great that he refuses to acknowledge any
real difference between them, even in regard to their
theories of universals and of matter. His remarks are,
however, thoughtful and intelligent, and his learning is
prodigious. To the student of Greek philosophy his
commentaries are invaluable, as they contain many
fragments of the older philosophers as well as of his
immediate predecessors.
The editions of the Greek text of the commentaries are as
follovrs : — on the De Cmlo, Utrecht, by S. Karsten, 1865 (the Greek
text published at Venice in 1526 is no more than a retranslation
from Guil. de Moerbeka's Latin version) ; on the Physica, Venice,
1526, Berlin (by H. Diels), vol i. 1882 ; on the De Auiina (a dis-
appointing work), Venice, 1527, Berlin (by M. Hayduck), 1882 ;
on the Categorise, Venice, 1499, Basel, 1551 ; on the Enchiridion,
Venice, 1528, Paris (Didot), 1S42, &c. On the life and writings
of Simplicius, see J. A. Fabricius, Bibliotheca Oracca, ix. 529 sq. ;
Ch. A. Brandis's excellent article in Smith's Diet, of Greek and
Roman Biography ; E. Zeller, D. Phil. d. G-r., III. ii. 851 sg.; also
Ch. A. Brandis, "Ueber d. Griech. Auslegerd. Aristot. Organons,"
in Abh. Berl. Akad., 1833, and C. G. Zumpt, "Ueber d. Bestand d.
phiL Schulen in Athen," ibid., 1842.
SIMPSON, Sm James Young, Baet. (1811-1870),
physician, was born in the town of Bathgate, Lielithgow,
Scotland, on the 7th of June 1811. His father was a
baker in thp,t town, who largely owed a moderate success
in business to a shi-ewd and managing wife. Jamea wa*
the youngest of a family of eight, and for the furtherance
of his worldly prospects the others struggled and sacrificed.
At the age of fourteen he entered the iiniversity of Edin-
burgh as a student in the arts classes. Two years later he
began his medical studies. At the age of nineteen ae
obtained the licence of the College of Surgeons, and two
years afterwards took the degree^of doctor of medicine.
Dr Thomson, who then occupied the cha\r of pathology in
the university, impressed with the graduation thesis, " On
Death from Inflammation," presented by Simpson, offered
him his assistantship. The offer was accepted, and during '
the session 1837-38 he acted as interim lecturer on/
pathology during the ■ illness of the professor. The
following winter he delivered his first course of lectures
on obstetric medicine in the extra-academical school. On
February 4, 1840, he was elected to the professorship of
medicine and midwifery in the university. Towards the
end of 1846 he was pre.';ent &i an operation performed
by Listen on a patient rendered unconscious by the
inhalation of sulphuric ether. The success of the pro-
ceeding was so marked that Simpson immediately began
to use it in midwifery practice. He continued, however,
to search for other substances having similar effects, and
in March 1847 he read a paper on chloroform to the
Medico-Chirurgical Society of Edinburgh, in which he fully
detailed the history of the use of anaesthetics from the
earliest times, but especially dwelt upon the advantages of
chloroform over ether. He advocated its use, not only for
the prevention of pain in surgical operations, but also for
the relief of pain in obstetrical practice. His strong and
uncompromising advocacy of its use in the latter class of
cases gave rise to one of the angriest and most widespread
controversies of the time, and, although his views may not
have been generally indorsed by later professional practice,
anaesthetics in surgical operations have from that time held
an indisputed place, and Simpson's anjesthetic still con-
tinues the favourite in the practice of the Edinburgh school.
In 1847 he was appointed a physician to the queen in
Scotland. In 1859 he advocated the use of acupressure
in place of ligatures for arresting bleeding ; his views on
this subject have, however, given place to improvements
in the ligature and to a better knowledge of the condi-
tions influencing its efficiency. His contributions to the
literature of his profession and to archaeology, in which
latter he took an active interest, were very numerous,
and embrace Obstetric; Memoirs and Contributions (2 vols.),
Homceopathy, Acupressure, Selected Obstetrical WorJcs,
Ansesiliesia .and Hospitalism, Clinical Lectures on the
Diseases of Women, and three volumes of essays on
archaeological subjects. Simpson, who had been created
a baronet in 1866, died on May 6th 1870, and was
accorded a public funeral ; his statue in bronze now
stands in West Princes Street Gardens, Edinburgh.
Simpson was a man of strong individuality and somewhat hasty
temper, an uncompromising and aggressive opjionent when ho
believed himself in the right, yet so tender and sympathetic that
he endeared himself to an immense circle of friends and patients.'
Endowed with great mental power, activity, and receptivity, he
performed a very large amount of literary work, much of which
was of great value at the time and still continues to be of interest
He will, however, be chiefly remembered in the annals of medicine
as a great personality, who brilliantly fought and won the battle
for anaesthetics, and introduced chloroform.
SIMPSON, Thomas (1710-1761), mathematician, was
born at Market Bosworth in Leicestershu-e on the 20th of
August 1710. His father was a stuff weaver, and, intend-
ing to bring his son up to his own business, took little care
of the boy's education. Young Simpson, however, was
eager for knowledge, and so ardent was he in pursuit of
it that he neglected his weaving, and in consequence of a
quarrel was forced to leave his father's house. He settled
S I M — S 1 ]M
«7
for a short time at Nuncnton, where he met a pedlar who
practised fortune-telling. V,y the encouragemeut and
assistance of this man Sim; 'son was induced to make a
profession of casting nativities himsslf. and ho soon
became the oracle of the neighbourhood. But he was not
long in discovering the imposture of astrology, and his
conscience, as well as an accident which happened to him
in the practice of his art, compelled him to abandon this
profession. After a residence of two or three years at
Derby, where he worked as a weaver during the day and
taught pupils in the evenings, he went up to London and
pursued the same course, but with more success. The
number of his pupils increased ; his abilities became more
widely known ; and he was enabled to publish by subscrip-
tion his Treatise of Fhirions in 1737. His treatise, as
was afterwards acknowledged, abounded with errors of
the press, and contained several ol>sourities and defects
incidental to the author's want of experience and the
disadvantages under which he laboured. His next
publications were A Treatise on the Nature and Laies of
Chance, 1740 ; Essays on Several Curious and Useful
Subjects in Speculative and Mixed Mathematicks, 1740 ;
The Doctrine of Anmdties and Reversions dedziced from
General and Evident Principles, 1 742 ; and Mathematical
Dissertations on a Variety of Physical and Analytical
Subjects, 1743. Socn after the publication of his Essays
he was chosen a rismbsr of the lloyal Academy at Stock-
holm ; in 1743 he was appointed -rofessor of mathematics
in the Royal Military Academy at Woolwich ; and in
1745 he was admitted a felbw of the Koyal Society of
London. In 1745 ha published A Treatise of Algebra,
with an appendix containing the construction of geo-
metrical problems, and iu 1747 the Elements of Plane
Geometry. The latter book, unlike many others with the
same title, is not an edition of Euclid's Elements, but an
independent treatise. Though it can hardly bo said that
as an introduction to geometry it is preferable to Euclid,
yet the solutions of problems contained in it (and in the
appendix to the Algebra as well) are in general exceedingly
ingenious. In his I'rigonometry, Plane and Spherical, with
the C oiuiiruction and Application of Logarithms, which
appeared in 1748, there is a tolerably uniform use of
contractions for the words .sine, tangent, &.C., prefixed to
the symbol of the angle. The Doctrine and Applicatio?i
of Fluxions, which he issued in 17.10, was more full and
comprehensive than his earlier work on the same subject,
and altogether was so different that he wished it to be
considered as a new book and not as a second edition of
the former. In 1752 appeared Select Exercises for Young
Proficients in the Mathemalich, and in 1757 his Miscel-
laneous Tracts on Some Curious and Very Interesting Subjects
in Mechanics, Physical Astronomy, and Speculative Mathe-
matics, the last and perhaps the greatest of all his works.
From the year 1735 he had sometimes under his own
name, sometimes under fictitious names, been a frequent
contributor to the Ladies' Diary, an annual publication
partly devoted to the solution of mathematical problems,
and from 1754 till 17G0 inclusive he was the editor of it.
From first to last Simpson seems to have had his own
share of the cares and anxieties of this world, and it is
astonishing how under such circumstances ho contrived to
accomplish what ho did. His unremitting application
and the want of proper regimen gradually undermined
his health, and he died on the 14tli of May 17G1 at his
native village. His name will probably be considered tho
most illustrious in tho loni' roll of the non-acadcmical
mathematicians of Britain.
. SIMROCK, Karl (1802-i876;, German poet and
Student of mcdioeval literature, was born on the 28th
August 1802 at Bonn, where his father was a musicscller.
He studied law at the universities of Bonn and Berlin,
and in 1823 entered the Prussian civil service, from which
ho was expelled in 1830 for having written a poem in
praise of the July revolution. Afterwards he was per-
mitted to lecture at the university of Bonn, and in 1850
he was made a professor of Old German literature. Hi
died on tho 18th July 1876.
Simrock established his reputation by his excellent modem
rciiilering of tlie Nibclmigenlied (1827), and of the works of
^Valtlier von der Vogehveide (1833). Among other works trans-
lated by him into the German of to-day were the Arms Ilcinrich
of Hartmann von Aue (1830), tlie Par:ival and Titurel of Wolfram
von Eschenbach (1842), tho Tristan of Gottfried ot Strasbiirg
(1852), the Edda, Beowulf, and Helinnd. In the HcldcnbuA
(1843-49) he ottered a complete vejiresentation of the heroic legeiuU
of Germany, partly by means of translations, partly by means
of independent poems. Before the publication of this work he
had given evidence of an original poetical faculty in WieJand
der Schmicd (1835) ; and in 1844 he issued a volume of Gedkhte in
which there are many good lyrics, romances, and ballads. In 1850
appeared Lauda Sion, and in 1857 the Deutsche Sionsharjc, col-
lections of Old German sacred poetry. Of his republications the
most popular and the most valuable were the Dentschen folks-
biicher, of which fifty-five were printed between 1839 and 1867.
His best contribution to antiquariau science was his Hnndbvch der
dciilschen Mylhologic (1853-55). At an early stage of his cnreer
Simrock took a high place among students of Shakespeare by hia
Qudkn des Shalcespeare in A'avclkn, Mdrchcn, mtd Sagcii (1831);
and afterwards ho translated Shakespeare's poems and a consider-
able number of his dramas. Another important book was J\'0!!«i-
IcnscJuitz der Italicner (1832). Among the rest of his works may
be mentioned Die Rheinsage.x. Das malerische und romantische
Rheinland, and his Dentschen Kricgslieder.
See Hockcr, Karl Simrock (1877).
SIMSON, Robert (1687-1768), mathematician, was
the eldest son of a Glasgow merchant, John Simson of
Kirktonhill in Ayrshire, and was born on the 14th of
October 1687. He was intended for the church, and
passed with distinction through the usual course of study
for that profession at the university of Glasgow^ The
bent of his mind, however, was towards mathematiu not
theology ; and, when a prospect was opened up to hira of
succeeding to the mathematical chair, he proceeded to
London in order to become acquainted with some of tb'
eminent mathematicians there and to increase hia Stock
of matheriaatical knowledge. After a year's residt'iice in
London he returned to Glasgow, and in 1711 was
appointed by the university to the professorship .of mathe-
matics. The duties of this office ho discharged for half a
century. During that time he published several works on
pure geometry, and carried on an extensive mathematical
correspondence. In 1746. the university of St Andrews,
wishing to confer on him an honorary degree, chose, accord-
ing to his biographer Dr William Trail, that of doctor of
medicine, because in his youth he had made a careful
study of botany. He never married, and his long life was
spent within the walls -of his college. His habits were
es?ceedingly regular, his hours of work and of amusement
being rigorously fixed. A .studious man of science, he
had no relish for tho promiscuous intercourse of society,
and his manner of living was simple and inexpensive.
In jicrson he was tall, with a handsome countenance and
an affable manner, and he used always to dress in light-,
coloured clothes. Though, like some other distinguished
mathematicians, he was rather absent-minded, in matters
of business ho was very circumspect He was a man of
the strictest integrity, ready to do justice to 'ho merits of
others, and not too sensible of his own. He enjoyed o
long course of uninterrupted health, and was seriously
indisposed only for a few w-eeks before his death, which
took place on the 1st of October 1768.
The first of Simson's piibli ihed writings is a paper in tho rhilo-
sophical Transactions oi tho Royal Society of London (vol. xl. p.
330, 1723) on tho subject of Euclid's Purisms, tho nature of wliich
ho was th« first to cluciilate (sec ToiiisM-s). Tlieii followed
Sectionum C^iearum Lilri V. (Edinburgh, 1736), a nefioiid cditioo
88
SIM
S I
N
of which, with additions, appeared in 1750. The first three books of
this treatise were translated into English, and several times printed,
with the title The Elements of the Conic Sections. In 1749 was
published Apollonii Pergxi Locorum Planorum Libri II. , a restora-
tion of one of Apollonius's lost treatises, founded on the lemmas
given in the seventh book of Pappus's Mathematical Collection. In
1756 appeared, both in Latin and in English, the first edition of his
Euclid's ElemerUs. This work, which contained only the first six
and the eleventh and twelfth books, and to which in its English
Tersion he added the Data in 1762, has become the standard
text of Euclid in England. The additions and alterations which
Simsonmade by way of restoring the text to its " original accuracy "
are certainly not all of them improvements, and the notes he
appended show with what an uncritical reverence he regarded the
great geometers of antiquity. Two other works, restorations of
Apollonius's treatise De Sectione Determinala and Euclid's treatise
De Porismatibus, which Simsou was too distrustful of himself to
publish during his lifetime, were printed for private circulation in
1776 at the expense of Earl Stanhope, in a volume with the title
Roberti Simson, M.D Opera Queedam lieliqua. The
volume contains also two additional books De Sectione Dclcmiinata^
two small dissertations o'n Logarithms and on the Limits of
Quantities and Ratios, and a few problems illustrative of the ancient
geometrical analysis. How far these restorations represent the lost
originals ^ill probably always be a matter of conjecture. The Dc
Porismatibiis certainly cannot be coextensive with Euclid's three
books ; -but, if it is only a restored fragment, the credit due to
Simsou's perseverance and' penetration in recovering from oblivion
the nature and some of the contents of one of the most interesting
treatises of antiquity will always be such as to keep his name in
the remembrance of geometers.
SIMSON, William (18CG-1847), portrait, landscape,
and subject painter, was born at Dundee in 1800. He
studied under Andrew Wilson at the Trustees' Academy,
Edinburgh, and his early pictures — landscape and marine
subjects — were executed with great spirit and found a
ready sale. He next turned his attention to figure
painting, producing in 1829 the Twelfth of August, which
was followed in 1830 by Sportsmen Regaling and a
Highland Deerstalker. In the latter year he was elected
a member of the Scottish Academy ; and, having acquired
some means by portrait-painting, he spent three years in
Italy, and on his return in 1838 settled in London, where
he exhibited his Camaldolese Monk Showing Kelics, his
Cimabue and Giotto, his Dutch Family, and his Columbus
and his Child at the Convent of Santa Maria la Kabida.
He died in London on the 29th of August 1847.
Simson is greatest as a landscapist; his Solway Moss — Sunset,
exhibited in the Royal Scottish Academy of 1831 and now' in the
National Gallery, Edinburgh, ranks as one of the finest examples of
the early Scottish school of landscape.
His elder brother George (1791-1862), portrait-painter, was also
a member of the Royal Scottish Academy, and his younger brother
David (d. 1874) practised as a landscape-painter.
SINAI. In judging of the points of controversy
connected with Sinai we are brought face to face with the
question of the historicity of the Hebrew records involved.
Though new attempts to fix the stations of the wilderness
wandering appear every year, critics have long agreed that
the number of forty for the years of wandering and for the
stations are round numbers, and that the details are not
based on historical tradition of the Mosaic age. This
does not exclude tho possibility that the names of some or
all of the stations belong to real places and are based on
more or less careful research on the part of the writers
who record them. As regards the Mountain of the Law
in particular, if the record of Exod. xix. sq. is strictly
historical, we must seek a locality where 600,000 fighting
men, or some two million souls in all, could encamp and
remain for some time, finding pasture and di'ink for their
cattle, and where there was a mountain (with a wilderness
at its foot) rising so sharply that its base could be fenced
in, while yet it was easily ascended, and its summit could
be seen by a great multitude below. In the valley there
must have been a flowing stream. The peninsula of Sinai
does not furnish any locality where so great a host could
.meet under the conditions specified, and accordingly many
investigators give up the statistics of the number of Hebrews
and seek a place that fulfils the other conditions. But
when vye consider that the various records embodied in
the Pentateuch {q.v.) were composed long after the time
of Moses, and that the authors in all probability never
saw Sinai, and had no exact topographical tradition to
fall back on, but could picture to themselves the scene of
the events they recorded only by the aid of imagination,
the topographical method of identifying the Mountain of
the Law becomes very questionable. The Pentateuchal
writers are not at one even about the name of the
mountain. It used to be thought that Horeb was the
name of the mountain mass as a whole, or of its southern
part, while Sinai was the Mountain of the Law proper,
but it has been shown by Dillmann that the Elohist and
Deuteronomy always use the name Horeb for the same
mountain which the Jahvist and the Priestly Code call
Sinai. The Elohist belonged to Northern Israel, but
Judges V. 5 shows that even in Northern Israel the other
name Sinai was not unknown. And it might be shown,
though that cannot be done here, that the several accounts
vary not only as regards the name but in topographical
details. Thus all that, can be taken as historically fixed is
that after leaving Goshen the Hebrews abode for some time
near a .mountain called Sinai or Horeb {cf. Israel, vol.
xiii. p. 396), and that this mountain or range was held
to be holy as a seat of the Deity (Exod. ii. 1, 1 Kings
xix.).
Where, then, was this mountain ? The Midianites, of
whom according to one source Jethro was priest, probably
always lived east of the Gulf of 'Akaba ; yet we cau
hardly follow Beke in seeking Sinai beyond that gulf, but
must rather think of some point in the so-called peninsula
of Sinai, which lies between the Gulfs of "Akaba and Suez,
bounded on the N. by the Wilderness el-Tlh, which slopes
gently towards the Mediterranean. To the south of this
wilderness rises the Jebel el-Tih, a mass composed mainly
of Nubian sandstone and cretaceous limestone, which
attains in fantastic forms an altitude of some 3000 feet ;
its ridges converge towards the south and are cut off by
great valleys from the mass now known as Mount Sinai.
The latter is composed of primitive rocks, — granit'>
porphyry, diorite, gneiss, &c. The sandstones of Jebel el-
Tih are rich in minerals ; inscriptions of Amenophis III.
and Thothmes III. found on the spot shovr that the ancient
Egyptians got emerald, malachite, and kupfergriin at
Sarbiit al-Kh4dem ; and still older are the turquoise and
copper mines of Maghdra, where inscriptions occur bearing
the names of kings from Senefru and Cheops down to
Rameses II. These mines were worked by criminals and
prisoners of war, and the waste products of copper-
foundries indicate that the peninsula was once better
wooded than now, of which indeed we have express
testimony of post-Christian date. At present the
dominant feature is bare walls of rock, especially in the
primitive formations ; the steep and jagged summits have
a striking effect, which is increased by the various colours
of the rock and the clearness of the atmosphere. The
deep-cut valleys are filled by rushing torrents after rain,
but soon dry up again. In the south the centre of the main
mountain mass is Mount Catherine (8540 feet), 0mm
Shomar to the south-east being little lower ; this peak and
north of it Mount Serbal (6750 feet), which rises more
immediately from the plain, dominate the KS,'ah, a waste
expanse of sand strown with pebbles, which occupies the
south-west margin of the peninsula. In the K&'ah is the
village of Tiir, and at the southern promontory (Kas
Mohammed) is the little hamlet of Sherm. TLe Sinai
group as a whole is called by the Arabs Jebel al-Tiir ; the
name SinS, in Arabic comes only from books. The area
S I N — S I N
89
of the peninsula is about 11,200 square miles, the popula-
tion is four to five thousand souls, chiefly Bedouins of
various tribes, whose common name, derived from Tur, is
TowAra. They have sheep and goats, with which they
retire in summer to the higher lands, where there is good
{msture ground, and where springs are comparatively
common. On the chalk and sandstone water is scarcer
than among 'the primitive rocks, and often brackish.
Though the rocks are bare, there is always vegetation in
the dales, especially acacias and tamarisks ; froni the
latter {T. mannifera) manna is still derived in quantities
Ihat vary with the rainfall. On the hills grow aromatic
plants, especially Thymacex. The fauna includes ^ the
ibex, hyrax, and hyc-ena ; the panther too is sometimes
found. Flights of quail have been observed. In some
valleys there are well-kept gardens and good date-palms ;
the most noted oasis is that of Feiran, in the north-west of
the peninsula, which is watered by a perennial stream.
Whether Feiran is the Rephidim of Exod. xvii. is a
question which, like the identification of the other stations
of the Israelites, depends on the localization of the
Mountain of the Law.
There is no genuine pre-Christian tradition on this
subject. The chief authority for the ancient sanctity of
Mount Sinai is Antoninus Martyr (end of the 6th
century), who tells that the heathen Arabs in his time still
celebrated a moon feast there. As sl>i means " moon,
this feast has been connected with the name of Sinai,
but the proposed etymology is not certain. Of heathen
origin, too, are the many Nabateean inscriptions (see
Nabat.bans) of Sinai, found especially in the WAdy
Mokatteb (in the north-west), and sometimes accompanied
by rude drawings. The language and character are
Aramaic, but the proper names are mainly those of Arabs,
who passing by graved their names on the rocks. That
they were jnlgrims to Sinai cannot be made out with
certainty. The inscriptions date from the early years of
the Christian era, when the Nabatsean kingdom was at its
height.
In early Christian times many anchorites inhabited
Sinai, living for the most part in the caves, which are
numerous even in the primitive rocks. Then monasteries
•were built, the most famous being the great one of St
Catherine in WAdy el-Ddr (the valley of the monastery).
On Serbdl, too, there were many granite dwellings, and
in the neighbouring Pharan (Phcenicion), which was a
bishop's see, there were, as the ruins show, churches and
convents.
The question then is whether when the hermits first
settled in the peninsula there existed a tradition as to the
place of the Mountain of the Law, and whether they chose
for their residence a spot which was already traditionally
consecrated by memories significant to the Christian as
well as to the Jew. No assertion of the existence of such
a tradition is to bo found in Josephus, who only says that
Sinai was the highest mountain of the district — a descrip-
tion which might apply to SerbAl as seen from the plain
below. Eusebius uses expressions which may also seem
to point to SerbAl as the place of the law-giving, and it
must bo admitted that the tradition which seeks the holy
site in the group of Jcbel JIiisA {i.e., the mass of which
■Mount Catherine is the highest peak) is not older than the
time of Justinian, so that the identification with Jlount
SerbAl seems to have greater antiquity in its favour. In
later times Jcbel MusA and SerbAl had each its own
tradition, and the holy places were pointed out at each;
thus from the monastery of St Catherine a path of granite
steps was constructed up to "the Mountain of the Law,"
but similar steps are found at Serbdl. That these traditions
are not decisive, however, is admitted, more or less, even
22—6*
by those moderns who, like Lepsius, Ebers, Bartlett, give
their voice for SerbAl. Most authorities still prefer Jebel
Musd or some point in that group, but they again differ in
details. First of all there is much difficulty in determin-
ing the route by which the Hebrews approached the
mountain. Then comes the question of finding a suitable
plain for their encampment under the mountain, which is
best met if, with Ilobinson, Stanley, Palmer, and others,
the plain is taken to be that of al-RAhe and the overhang-
ing mountain to be Jebel SufsAfeh. The latter is over 6300
feet high, and consists of pasture ground; it does not fit all
the details in Exodus, but this objection is quite as strong
against the traditional site on Jebel MusA (Mount Jloses),
which lies farther to the south. Jebel MdsA has been
accepted by Tischendorf, Laborde, Ritter, Strauss, Farrar,
and many others; on this view the Israelites must have
encamped in the narrow AVAdy al-Seba'iyeh, north of the
mount. But the absence of exact topographical detail on
the part of the Biblical narrators, who always speak of
Sinai as if it were a single summit and give no hint about
several summits of which it is one, shows that in their
time there was no real tradition on the matter, and that
all attempts at identification are necessarily vain.
Literature. — Burcldiardt, Travels in Syria, <tc., London, 1822;
Leon de Laborde, Voyage de V Arabic Pctre'e, Paris, 1830-36;
Robinson, Biblieal Researches, London, 1841 ; Lepsius, Rcisc,
Berlin, 1845 ; Stanley, Sinai and Palestine ; Fraas, Aus d. Orient,
Stuttgart, 1867; Ordnance Survey of the Pen. of Sinai, South-
ampton, 1869, 3 vols. ; Palmer, Desert of the Exodus, Cambridge,
1871 ; Ebers, Durch Gosen zurn Sinai, 2d ed., Leipsic, 1881 ;
Baker Greene, The Hebrew Migration, London, 1883 ; Hull, Mount
Scir, Sinai, and West Palestine, London, 1885. See also the
VsiicitmeSoatty'a Quarterly Statement, passim. (A. SO.)
SINCLAIR, Sir John, Baiit. (1754-1835), a volu-
minous Scottish author, was descended from the Sinclairs
of Ulbster, a branch of the noble house of Caithness. He
was the eldest son of George Sinclair and Janet, daughter
of William, Lord Strathnaver, and was born at Thurso
Castle, 10th May 1754. For a short time he had Logan
the poet as a private tutor, and, after studying Greek
and Latin at the high school of Edinburgh, entered the
university in his thirteenth year. He was admitted a
member of the faculty of advocates in 1775, and was
subsequently called to the English bar (Lincoln's Inn),
but, prefering politics to law, was in 1780 elected member
of parliament for his native county. As Caithness was
then only alternately represented with Bute, he was in
1784 chosen for Lostwithiol, Cornwall, and in 1796 for
Petersfield, Hampshire, his parliamentary career extending
almost uninterruptedly over thirty years till July 1811.
In 1782 he began the issue of those pamphlets on various
subjects connected with the welfare of the nation which
made him perhaps the most voluminous author of his
time, his separate publications, as given in bis ilemoirs,
amounting in all to three hundred and sixty-seven. His
reputation as a financier and political economist was firmly
established by his publication in 1784 of the History of
the Public Revenue of the British Empire, to subsequent
editions of which was added a Review of the Financial
Administration of the Right Hqk. William Pitt. The
adoption of his plan for the issue of exchequer bills
during the great commercial stagnation of 1793 pre-
vented the ruin of a largo number of merchants and
manufacturers; and in 1797 Pitt consulted him when the
treasury threatened to become exhausted, with the result
that the scheme known as tho " loyalty loan " was estab-
lished. On 4th February 1786 Sinclair was created a
baronet of Great Britain, After succeeding his father in
1770 ho had set himself to improve the family estiitcs, thus
changing in a great degree tho aspect of Caithness and
affording employment to a largely increased number. of the
population. In 1791 he established at Edinburgli a society
90
S I N — S I N
lor the improvement of breeds of sheep; and in 1793 he
circulated a plan for a board of agriculture and internal
improvement. When the board was shortly afterwards
established by a charter from the crown he was nominated
its first president. From the agricultural reports published
by this society he compiled his Code of Agriculture, published
in 1819. About 1790 he conceived a plan for a Statistical
Account of Scotland, and the work was published 'in
twenty-one volumes, 1791-1799.
Sir John Sinclair was also the author of a number of
tracts on naval and military subjects; and in 1794 he
raised for the defence of the kingdom a regiment of a
thousand men, at first called the "Caithness Fencibles,"
afterwards the "Kothesay and Caithness Fencibles"; a
second battalion of a thousand. men was raised by him in
1795, which took part in suppressing the rebellion in Ireland
in 1798. Though originally a supporter in parliament of
the war policy of Pitt, he afterwards joined the "armed
neutrality" party, which advocated retrenchment and
reform. In 1805 he was appointed by Pitt a commis-
sioner for superintending the construction of roads and
bridges in the north of Scotland. He was a member of
most of the agricultural societies of the Continent, and
held as many as twenty-five foreign diplomas. He was a
fellow of the Koyal Societies of London and Edinburgh, a
fellow of the Antiquarian Society of London, and president
of the Highland Society of London. No man of his time
took a more comprehensive and enlightened interest in the
general welfare of the country or conferred on it more
substantial benefits. He enjoyed the esteem and intimate
friendship of many eminent contemporaries both at home
and abroad, with several of whom he kept up an extensive
correspondence. He died .Tlst December 1835.
By his first wife, a daughter of Alexander Maitland of Stoke
Newington near London, ~ he had two daughters, of whom the
elder, Hannah, was the authoress of a work on the Priyiciphs of the
Christian Faith. By his second wife, the Hon. Diana Macdonald,
only daughter of Alexander, first Lord Macdonald, he had thirteen
children, of whom the eldest son, George (1790-1860), who. suc-
ceeded to the baronetcy, was a schoolfellow of Byron and Peel at
Harrow, and is styled by Byron the "prodigy of our school
days"; the third son, John (1797-1875), became archdeacon of
Middlesex, and, besides the Memoirs of his father, wrote several
theological works ; and the fourth daughter, Catherine (1800-1864),
who for many years acted as his secretary, after his death achieved
some distinction as an authoress, her principal works being Modern
Accomplishments, 1836 ; Scotland and the Scotch, 1840 ; Modem
Flirtation, 1841 ; and Popular Legends and Bible Truths, 1852.
See Correspondence of the Right Bon. Sir John Sinda\r, Burt., aith Rcminie-
eences of Distinguished Characters,^ vols.. London, 1831; anAMemoirs ofthiLiJe
OKd Works of the Right Hon. Sir John Sinclair, 2 vols., Edinbnrgli, 1837.
SIND, the westernmost territorial subdivision of India,
and a frontier province of considerable importance in a
geographical and political aspect, lies between the 23d and
28th parallels of N. latitude and between the 66th and
71st meridians of E. longitude. Its length from north to
south is estimated at 160 rniles, and the average of its
breadth from east to west at 170. On the north it is
bounded by the Khelat state (see Baiuchistan), the
Punjab, and Bahdwalpilr ; on the E. by Jaisalmir and
Mulani, or generally the more desert tracts of Western
Rajputana;'on (the S. by the Kunn of Cutch (Rann of
Kachh) and the Indian Ocean ; and on the W. by Khelat,
which overlaps it on the north. Including the alienated
district of Khairpur and the extensive tract to the south
called the political superintendency of the Thar and Par-
kar, its area is set down as between 56,000 and 57,000
square miles...
The one great geographical feature in Sind is the lower
Indus, passing, as it does, through the entire length of the
province, first in a south-westerly direction, then turning
somewhat to the east, then returning to a line more
directly south, and finally inclining to the west, to seek an
outlet at the sea. Though there is much similarity in the
appearance of the landscape on the two sides of the broad
river, the distant line of mountains between Sakhar and
Sehwan, the steep pass overhanging the water at Lakki,
and the hill country below Sehwan give a distinctive
character to the right bank, and lend it special attraction
when contrasted with the flat lowlands, merging into
desert, on the left. Sind has been aptly likened to Egypt.
If the one depends for life and fertility on the Nile, so
does the other on the Indus. The cities and towns are
not so readily to be compared. Hyderabad, notwith-
standing its remarkable fortress and handsome tombs, can
w o a* ••"
i .' R a. n n of K a. ebb
Map of Sind.
scarcely vie in interest as a Native capital with Cairo ; nor
can Kurracheo, as a Europeanized capital, be said to have
attained the celebrity of Alexandria. Yet there are some
respects in which this particular province would not be
wholly eclipsed, even in its outside pictures. It contains
many monuments of archaeological and architectural
interest, and to the traveller descending the river from
the Punjab, or ascending it from Kotri, the coup (Toeil on
the approach to Piohri is at times singularly striking.
The beautiful little island of Khwija Kidhr is a gem in
itself ; and there is at certain seasons undoubted poetry in
the very dreariness of Sakhar and Bakhar.
Owing to the deficiency of rain, the continuance of hot weather
in Sind is exceptional. Lyinglietween two monsoons, it just escapes
the influence of both. The south-west monsoon stops short at
Lakhpat Bandar, the north-west monsoon at Kurrachee, and even
here the annual rainfall is not reckoned at more than six or eight
inches. At times there is no rainfall for two or three years, while
at others there is a whole season's rainfall in one or two.d'ays. The
average temperature of the summer months rises to 95" F., and the
winter average is 60°, the summer maximum being 120° and the
winter minimum 32°. The temperature on the sea-coast is' much
more equable than elsewhere. In Northern Sind we find frost in
winter, while both there and in Lower Sind the summer heat is
extreme and prolonged. This great heat, combined with the pois-
onous exhalations from the pools left after the annual inundation
and the decaying vegetable deposits, produces the fever and a^e
with which the name of the country is associated, and V>- which
even the natives themselves fall a prey.
S I N D
91
The soil is largely dependent on ttio river overflow. This grand
provisionof nature is, however, uncertainly exercised ; and not only
13 the actual volume of water sujiplied from the upper Indus liable
to fluctuation, but the particular lands inundated or untouched by
inundation vary according to the caprices of the river. Questions
of alluvion and diluvion are therefore of frequent occurrence ; and
it is often as hard to say whether newly-throwunp lands belong to
the state or an individual proprietor as it is to decide who is the
loser in the case of lands newly submerged. In tlie lands which, as
a rule, are reached annually and in fair proportion by the inundation,.
the soil is so rich as to produce two crops or even more in the year
\vithout the assistance of manure Salt is present in great quantity.
The two principal yearly crops are the vernal, known as rabi, sown
i 0 autumn and reaped in spring, and the autumnal, known as kharif,
sown in summer while the river. is high and reaped from October to
December In some districts there is a distinct third crop called
peshras, sown in March and reaped in July and August. The imple-
ments of husbandry are the plough {har), drawn by two bullocks ; the
harrow {sahar), a heavy log of wood drawn by four bullocks, a man
standing on each end ; the seed-sower {ndri), a tube fixed to the
plough with a wooden funnel ou the top, used while the ground fe
being ploughed for the last time ; a curved hook (datro) with teeth
like a saw, for reaping; and a hoc {kiiriah), for weeding
The principal products are bdjH (a well-known Indian grain),
and judri (the Indian millet), rice, cotton, sugar-cane, tobacco,
oil-seeds, wheat, barley, and indigo. Of these, wheat may be con-
sidered the staple produce of Upper, and hdjri and judri of Jliddle
and Lower Sind. Dates, plantains, mangoes, limes, oranges,
pomegranates, citrons, figs, grapes, apples, tamarinds, mulberries,
and melons are said to be fruits common to the country ; and it
is added that of late years nectarines, peaches, apricots, and other
fruit trees have been successfully introduced, but the statement
must be received with some reservation in respect of quantity and
quality. There is no doubt that the fruits imported by the Afghan
traders find more favour than any home products.
Among the chief manufactures may be mentioned the gold,
silver, and silk embroideries, carpets, cloths, lacquered wa.re,
horse-tiappmgs and other leather-work, paper, pottery, tiles,
swords, and matchlocks, and the boxes and other articles of
inlaid work introduced more than a century ago from Shiraz.
The lac work, a widely extended industiy in India, is also in
vogue in Sind. Variously coloured lac is laid in succession oa
the boxes, &c. , while turning on the lathe, and the design is then
cut through the different colours. Hyderabad has long been
famous for its silks and cottons, silver and gold work, andlacquered
ornaments, and the district could once boast of skilled workmen
in arms and armoar ; but, unless the demand for the products of
its industries increase, it is to be feared that its old reputation
will not long be maintained. In the cloths called sudi, silk is
woven with the striped cotton— a practice possibly due to the large
Mohammedan population of the country, as no Moslem can wear
a garment of pure silk without infraction of the law. As regards
the carjiets. Sir George Birdwood states that those from Sind are
the cheapest, coarsest, and least durable of all. made in India.
Formerly they were .fine in design and colouring, but of late years
they have greatly deteriorated. The cheap rugs, which sell for
about 9s each, are made with the pile (if not altogether) of cow
hair, woven upon a common cotton foundation, with a rough
hempen shoot. The patterns are bold and suited to the material,
and the dyes good and harmonious.
In 1837 the zoology of Sind was reported by Burnes to com-
prise of genera and species 20 mammals, 191 birds, 36 fishes,
11 reptiles, besides 200 in other departments of natural history.
Of wild animals we find the tiger (in the jungles of Upper Sind),
the hya;na, the gUrkhar or wild ass (in the south part of tho Thar
and Parkar district), the wolf, jackal, fox, wild hog, antelope,
pharho or hog deer, hares, and porcupines. Of birds of prey, the
vulture and several varieties of falcon may "be mentioned. The
flamingo, pelican, stork, crane, and Egyptian ibis frequent the
shores of tne delta. Besides these there are the ubdra (bustard)
or lilur, tho rock-grouse, quail, partridge, and various kinds of
parrots AV^atcrfowl are plentiful ; in the cold season the lakes or
dhandlis are covered with wild geese, kulang, ducks, teal, curlew,
and snipe. Among other animeils to bo noted are scorpions, lizards,
centipedes, and many snakes.
Tho domestic animals include camels (one-humped), biiPaloes,
sheep and goats, Horses and asses (small but haray), mules, and
bullocks. Of fish there are, on the sea-coast, sharks, saw-fish,
rays, and skate ; cod, sir, cavalho, red-snapper, gassir, begti,
dangdra, and burn abound. A kind of sardine also frequents the
coast. In tho Indus, the finest flavoured and most plentiful fish
is the pa^ generally identified with tho hiha fish of tho Ganges.
Dambhro {Labeo rohita) and mullet, mordko (Cirrhina mrigala),
gandan {Notoplent3 kapirat), khago or catfi.sh (liiUi buchanani),
fopri {Barbua saraiia), shaktir, jcrklio, and singhdri (Mncrones aor)
are also found. Otter, turtle, and porpoise are frequently met
with ; 80 too are long-snoutod alligators and wator-snakcs.
Tho extent of forest land is relatively small. The forests (about
eighty-seven in number) are situated for the most part on the banks
of the Indus, and extend southward from Ghotki in the Rohri
deputy collcctorato to the middle delta. They are described as
narrow strips of land, from two to three miles in length, and
ranging from two furlongs to two miles in breadth. The largest are
between 9000 and 10,000 acres in area, but are subject to diminu-
tion owing to the encroachments of tho stream. Tho wood is
principally babul {Acacia arabica), bahau {Pojmliis euphralica), and
kundi (Prosopis spicigcra). The tuli (Dalbcrgia Sissu) grows to
some extent in Upper Sind ;' the iron-wood tree (Tocoma undulata)
is found near the hills in tho llehar districts. There are, besides,
the nim {Melia Amdirachta), the pipal (Ficus religiosa), the bit
(Zhyphus Jujnba). The delta has no forests, but its shores abound
with mangrove trees. Of trees introduced by the forest depart-
ment we have the tamarind (TaMffnnrfHs indica), several Australian
wattle trees, the water-chestnut (J'rapa nalans), the aula {Emblica
officinalis), the bahera {Terminalia Jicllcrica), the carob tree (Cera-
tenia Siligjia), the China tallow (Stillingia sebi/cra), the b^ ^Sglt
Marmelos), and the manah (Basitia latifolia). There is a specially
organized forest department.
For administrative purposes the province has five well-under
stood divisions : — (1) Frontier, Upper Si7id, of which the principal
town is Jacobabad, named after the late General John Jacob|f
C.B., its founder ; the hamlet which occupied its site in 1843 was
a mere speck in the desert, and its name, Khangarh, can hardl;
be associated with the fine canal and abundant vegetation now
marking the locality ; (2) Shikarpur, with its capital of the same
name and Sakhar, both notable places on tho right bank of the;
Indus ; in this division also are the towns of Larknana and Rohri,'
the last on the left bauk of the river ; (3) ITijderabad {Haiddrabad^.
of which the chief town, having tho same name, was the capital
of the province prior to the British occupation ; (4) Kurracha
(Karachi), with its modern Europeanized capital and harbour and
Tattha, a town of interesting local associations ; (5) Thar and
Parkar, an outlying district on the south-east, more or less part of
the desert tract extending far and wide in that particular quarter
Besides these there is the territory of Mir 'Ali Murad, Talpur, greatlj
curtailed of its original dimensions, but still forming a large lano
alienation in Upper Sind.
Where cultivation depends so;much on the character of the year's
inundation, it is natural that the revenue should be uncertain. In
1883-84, for instance, the river was abnormally low. Consequently
the area of cultivation was contracted, and, while considerable re-
missions had to be granted, collections were with difficulty carried
out. The rainfall, moreover, except in the Thar and Tarkar dis-
trict, was npt only scanty but unseasonable. In Thar and Parkar
the rainfall was especially favourable, and owing to an early in-
undation and wise preparations lands never before cultivated were
brought under the plough.
The gross canal revenue in S(ind amounted in 1883-84 to
Rs.3,686,764, and the land revenue to Rs.1,171,925. In round
numbers and English figures — without reference to the deteriora-
tion of the rupee— the total is about £487,000, 'of which three-
fourths is due to canal irrigation.
The population may be roughly reckoned at two millions and a,
half, an estimatewhich is borne out by the census of 1881. Kurrachee
is now the most populous of the capitals, and its numbers far ex-
ceed those of Shikarpur and Hyderabad. But the character of its
inhabitants differs from that of other large towns in Sind. They
are for the most part foreign and migratory, and do not represent
the true Sindis.
Of the two great divisions of the people in Sind the Moham-
medans comprise about two-thirds of the whole, tho. Hindus the
remaining third. Tlio Mohammedins may bo divided into two
great bodies— tho Sindis proper and the naturalized Sindis. The
Sindi proper is a descendant of the original Hindu. In religion
he is a Siini, though some of tho Sindis belong to the Shia sect
There are probably more than three hundred families or clanj
among the Sindis. There is, as a rule, no distinction of caste, ex-
cept that followers of certain vocations— such as weavers, leather-
workers, sweepers, huntsmen— are considered low and vile The
six different cla-sses of naturalized Sindis arc— tho four families of
(ho Saiyids (tho Bokh:iri, Mathari, ShirMi, and Lakhirayi) ; the
Afghans, from Khorasan ; tho Baluchis ; tho slaves or S'dis—
originally Africans ; the Menians ; and the Khwiijas. The Jlindu
population of Sind may be divided into tho following' pnncn>al
castes:- the Brahmans, Kshatrias, Waishias, and Siidras witb
their subdivisions. Besides these there are the Sikhs, and the reli-
gious mendicants— tho Sanasi, Jogi, Gosdi'n, and Ogar,— all or
Brahman origin. . r ,
Tho educational progress made in Sind during tho quarter oi a
century succeeding tho mutiny has been very gtent. In 18f.8 there
WHS but one Government English school; with 82 beys, at KurracliM.
and one with 25 bovs at Hydcmbad ; and of tho 82 only 8 of the
pupils were Sindi. In 1684-85 Sind could boast of a .G»vcrninoni
high school at Kurrachee with 400 pupils, of another high ichooi at
82
8 1 K — S I N
Hyderabad with 338 pupils, and of a third at Shikarpur with 228
boys. The three passed 39 out of 43 candidates for matriculation
lit the Bombay university. Of vernacular or Sindi-Persiau schools
under native masters there were 34 which came under Government
supervision in 1858, whereas there were in 1884-85 no less than 23
oiiddle schools — teaching the vernacular and English — with 1165
pupils ; and in the primary schools the number of pupils was nearly
20,000. ■
Captain (now Sir Kichard) Burton has given a clear and instr ac-
tive account of tlie language and literature of Sijid. The large
proportion of Sanskrit and Arabic words admitted, the anomalo'us
structure of the grammar, and the special sounds of certain letters
of its alphabet render the first remarkable ; and the original
romantic poems and translations of Arabic religious works com-
mand the attention of scholars to the second. Among the more
celebrated of the native writers are Maklidum Hashim, llakhdum
Abdullah, and Saiyid Abdu'l-Latif.
The leading features of the tu-0 years' campaign of Alexander
the Great in the Punjab and Siad have been touched on else-
where (see Indu, vol. xii. p. 787). About 711 a.d. the Hindus of
iinil were conquered by Muhammad Kasira, the young general
ijf the caliph Walid, but his successors were unable to hold their
ground. In reality it was the overwhelming irruption of llahmiidof
Ghazni three centuries later which finally subjugated the province.
Kearly six centuries later still, Sind was annexed by the great Akbar
to Delhi. In the meanwhile it had been governed by princes and
petty chiefs, all of whom are celebrated in local history. After
Akbar, and up to the time of Nadir Shah's invasion of India, there
is little historically important to distinguish the province, separated
from the other divisions of the Slughal empire, though its governors
possessed a certain delegated power which might well have tempted
the more ambitious to revolt. When Nadir took possession of the
jinds west of the Indus, one Nur Muhammad Kalhora was the quasi
ruler in Sind. The tribe to which he belonged claimed lineal
descent from Abbas, uncle of the prophet, and had a widely-spread
repute for sanctity. Their political influence had been, moreover,
increasing for many years, and in the person of one or two of their
stronger chiefs they had' on sundry occasions risen in arms against
vhB imperial troops. In 1701, or thirty-eight years before the
Persian invasion, Yar Muhammad Kahora had obtained possession
jf Shikarpur, and managed to get from the Mughal emperor a firman
conferring upon him the " subahdari " of the Dera districts, with
ihe title of Khuda Yar Khau." On bis death in 1719 he had
extended his territory by the acquisition of the Kandidra and
Larkhana districts, and of Sibi, a vast tract of co«ntry then in-
r.luding within its limits Sakhar as well as Shikarpur. He was
.succeeded by his son Nur Muhammad, who, as above showir, was in
the unenviable position of having to account for his actions to no
.ess notable an antagonist than Nadir himself. The latter was
eventually appeased by an annual tribute of 20 lakhs of rupees, and
on his return to Persia conferred upon the Kalhora prince the title
of " Shah Kuli Khan. " On Nadir's death the Sind lands of Niir
Muhammad became tributary to Ahmad Shah of Kandahar, the
transfer being sealed by the bestowal of a new title, "Shah Nawaz
Khan." This occurred in 1748, from which date till 1783— when
-ibdul Nabi, the last of the Kalhora princes, was defeated by Mir
rath Ali Khan, and the ruling dynasty forcibly superseded by the
Falpiir Baluch chiefs — the local history is a mere record of conflicts
md reconciliations, treaties and evasions of treaty, as regards out-
side power's, and of revolution and bloodslied within. The seat of
government had become established at Hyderabad, founded by
Ghulam Shah Kalhora in 1768. We now come to the Talpiirs.
These Baluchis had immigrated to Sind from their native hills
under a Mir Shahdad in the early part of the- 18th century, and
had taken service under Niir Muhammad Kalhora. Shahdad, raised
to rank and influence, died, leaving four sons, the third of whom,
Mir Bahram, succeeded as head of the tribe. His murder by a
grandson of Niir Muhammad was one of the main causes of the ill-
feeling which had culminated in bitter hostility when later acts of
treachery and barbarism sealed the fate of the tyrant rulers. The
Talpurs entered Hyderabad as conquerors ; but unfortunately for
the consolidation of their sovereignty the suspicious nature of Mir
Fath Ali, the head of the house, alarmed his near relatives. His
nephew Sohrab fled to Upper Sind, and founded the principality of
Kliairpur, while Tara, moving eastward, became the indepemlent
chief of Mirpur. Later on, Mir Fath Ali, undeterred by divisioua
which he had no power to prevent, admitted to a share of his own
government of Hyderabad his three younger brothers, Ghulam Ali,
Karm Ali, and Murad Ali. On the death of Fath Ali in 1801
the three continued to rule together ; and when Ghulam Ali was
killed in 1 811 the duumvirate remained supreme ; but, on the death
of Karm Ali in 1828 and Murad Ali a few years later, the old system
was revived, and a government of four again instituted. Such was
the state of things when British relations with the province had
become necessarily an urgent consideration, owing to the Afghan
expedition of 1838 (see vol. xii. p. 807).
During this crisis of Anglo-Indian history the political officers in
Sind aiid Baluchistan had a difficult task to perform, and it iS
infinitely to their credit that more mischief did not ensue in these
countries from the many and heavy British disasters in the north.
But tlie amirs of Sind were to bo dealt with for infractions of treaty
if not for open hostility ; and Sir Charles Napier had to call them
to account soon after his arrival at Sakhar iu the autumn of 1842.
The long and complex narrative need not be here repeated. Suffice
it to state that the outcome was the coufjuest of Sind, — the
immediate result of the battle ofMiani, fought in the vicinity of
Hyderabad in February 1843. A course of wise, firm, and kindly*
administration inaugurated by Sir Charles Napier himself, anrf
continued by Messrs Pringle, Frere, Inverarity, Gen. John Jacotjy
Sir W. Meiewethor, and later commissioners, has since made the
province an important section of the western presidency of India.
The story of the eight years' rule of Sir Bartle Frere in Sind has
yet to be written, but his name is associated with numerous matters I
of paramount importance, — in relation especially to the positiorf
and fortunes of tlie deposed amirs, the riglits and immunities of
the old privileged landholders, the organization of municipal insti-
tutions, the promotion of systematic education, the due administra-
tion of justice, and the erection of public works of utility.
See ^ashea'3 0aiettfero/Sin(t; Bin ton's flistory of Sind; Bombay OotemmttU
Records, No. xvii.; Bombay Educational Report, ISS.'i ; Annual Report on Ad-
ministration o/Sind; Report of Director o/ Public Instruction, Bombay, lS57-58ff
Birdwoud's Handbook to Indian Court, Paris, 1873. (F. J. (J.)
SINGAN; a form of the name Se-gan Foo {q.v.).
SINGAPORE, a British dependency, commercially
and administratively the most important of the Straits
Settlements {q-v.), which form a separate colonial govern-
ment. It consists principally of an island 27 miles long
by 14 broad, lying off "the south end of the Malay Penin-
sula, but also includes upwards ,of 70 insignificant islets
Singapore and its Environs.
to the south and west within a radius of 10 miles. From
the mainland of Johor, as this part of the peninsula is
called, Singapore island is separated by a strait, Salat
Tabras or Tambrosh, less than half a mile wide at the
narrowest point, which was formerly the main channel of
navigation to the Chinese seas. The name of Singapore
Strait is given to the much wider channel which separates
the island on the south from the various islands of
Butang, Batang, Bintang, ic, belonging to the Dutch
East Indies. The surface of Singapore is undulating, and
diversified by hills ranging from 70 to rather less than
400 feet, the highest point being Bukit Timah, to the
north-west of the town (about 519 feet). Geologically
SINGAPORE
93
ttie core of the island consists of crystalline rocks ; but in
the west there are shales, conglomerates, and sandstones ;
and all round the island the valleys are filled with alluvial
deposits on a much more extensive scale than might be
looked for where none of the streams have a course of
more than six miles, or attain to any considerable size
except after heavy rains (see details in J. R. Logan's " Local
and Relative Geology of Singapore," in Jour. Beng. Asi.
Soc, vol. xvi., and " The Geology of the Straits of Singa-
pore," in LoTid. Geol. Jour., 1851, vol. vii.). The south-
western shores are fringed with coral reefs, and living
coral fields are found in many parts of the strait. Being
chiefly composed of red clays and laterite, the soil is not
generally rich, and requires careful and liberal husbandry
to make it really productive. When it was first occupied
by the English the whole island was covered with forest
and jungle ; and, although this was largely cleared ofi' sub-
sequent to 1837, when a mania for nutmeg plantations set
in, the moisture and warmth of the climate have kept it
clothed with luxuriant and perpetual verdure, in which
palms, ferns, and orchids are conspicuous forms. " Near
the shore, by the mouths of creeks, are grouped quaint
dwellings of fishermen, built of wood or palm leaf standing
on piles over th-e water. In the smooth sandy bays cocoa-
nut palms shelter picturesque Malay houses. More inland
we find groves of fruit trees, small patches of sugar-cane,
Chinese gardens, tapioca and indigo fieldr. Neat bunga-
lows— the residences of officials, merchants, and rich
Chinese and Arabs — diversify the scene, particularly in the
vicinity of the town. In the remote parts of the island
more especially there are waste spaces which were formerly
gambler plantations- and. are now covered with coarse
lalang grass " (Governor Wild). The nutmeg trees which
had for twenty years been a main source of wealth were
blighted in 1860; the plantations were completely given
up ; and, though many of the abandoned trees recovered
and nutmegs can still be gathered in Singapore, they have
never again been cultivated. Cotton-planting was next
tried, but without success, and though cinnamon grows
well the labour necessary for its cultivation and manu-
facture is too^ expensive. Gutta percha, originally intro-
duced to' England from Singapore, was so much run upon
that all the trees of that kind in the island were exter-
minated. Gambler and pepper, both at one time largely
grown, have for many years been of little account. Liberian
coffee, pine-apples, cocoa-nuts, and aloes are now the most
important objects of cultivation. Quite recently districts
have been enclosed for reforestation and the eucalyptus
and other trees have been planted. Almost all kinds of
fruits do well in the island, — the custard-apple, pine-apple,
sour-sop, lime, orange, and plantain being in season nearly
all the year, and the durian, blimbing, duku, langsat, man-
gosteen, rambutan, tarrup, tampang, &c., in July and
August and also for all or some of the months between
November and February. The botanical and zoological
gardens at Singapore, connected with the Agri-IIorticul-
tural Society, have been devoted to the introduction of
economic plants, such as China and Assam tea, salt-bush
or Rhagodia, which forms excellent fodder, (fee.
In climate Singapore is wonderfully fortunate for a country
within one degree of the equator. There is hardly any seasonal
change, and the annual range of temperature is generally only from
70° to 90°. "The nights especially are very cool and refreshing,
and enable people to sleep without dirticulty." The atmosphere is
almost uniformly serene, and the face of the ocean is only disturbed
by the swell of distant tempests in the China Sea or the Bay of
licngal. The north-east monsoon is the master wind from Novem-
ber to April, but is generally neither persistent nor powerful, and
the soutn-west monsoon is oven less regular in its action. The
southerly winds in May and Juno known as Java winds have very
much the character of land and sea breezes, but ore considered very
enervating in spite of the pleasant feeling of freshness which thov 1
at first produce. Bapid squalls (sumatras) also occur during the'
south-west monsoon and beneficially clear the air. Instead of
periodical rains there are (on a sixteen years' average) 167 wet days
distributed throughout the year. The annual rainfall iJ' .82-27
inches; 1885, a very dry year, showed only 69 inches, accolding
to Dr RoweU's report. The mean ma.ximum temperature in the
shade is 86''7, the mean minimum in the shade 73°. The highest
temperature observed during the sixteen years was 94° in April 1878,
and the lowest 65° in February 1874. Most of the domestic
animals of Europe have been introduced, but not in great numbers.
Deer, wild hogs, sloths, monkeys, and squirrels are the more note-
worthy mammals ; and tigers, which formerly committed serious
depredations among the natives, still occasionally find their way
across the strait from the mainland. 'When the first census was
taken in 1824 the settlement of Singapore was found to contain
10,603 inhabitants, and by 1850 this number had increased to
nearly 60,000. The following figures show the more important
components of the population in 1860, 1871, and 1881, — the totals
for those years being 80,792, 97,111, and 139,203 respectively :—
Europeans and Eurasians.
Malays
Klings, &c
Chinese
Javanese
2,445
10,888
50,043
3,408
1S7I.
1881.
3,207
19,250
10,244
54,098
3,239
2,769
22,155
12,058
86,766
5,881
The total is estimated to be now well over 150,000. The pre-
ponderance and rapid Increase of the Chinese is a most striking
feature, mainly due, however, to a steady stream of immigration.
The death-rate in Singapore is very much higher than the birth-
rate— 4473 being the average number of deaths in 1881-83 against
1919 births. This is largely to be ascribed to the paucity of women
—33,785 females to 105,423 males in 1881. In the small number
of Europeans proper — 1283 — there are nineteen nationalities re-
presented.
The only town in the settlement is the city of Singapore, the
general capital of the Straits Settlements. It lies on the south side
of the island in 1° 16' N. lat. and 103° 53' E. long., a bright,
picturesque, prosperous, and progressive place, with a sea-frontage
extending for about 6 miles from New Harbour north-cast to the
Eochoro and Kallang suburbs. Under the control of its munici-
pality, which has a yearly revenue of more than 300,000 dollars, a
great variety of improvements have been effected — the river dredged
and deepened, foreshores reclaimed, bridges built, trees planted, and
public buildings erected— within the last six or seven years. The
principal churches, the court-house, and the European quarters
generally are situated on the north side of the river, while on the
south side extend the warehouses and shops of the European and
Chinese traders. On Peel Hill, 170 feet high, stands a citadel ; and
on Government Hill is the Government house— a palatial residence
in park-like grounds. The cosmopolitan character of the popula-
tion gives great brightness of colour to the crowded streets and is
reflected in the architectural peculiarities of .the native quarters
— where Mohammedan mosques, Chinese joss-houses, and Hindu
temples are equally at home. Among the more important European
edifices are St Andrew's cathedral (first consecrated in 1838,
present building erected in 1861, became cathedral in 1870), the
Roman Catholic cathedral, the supreme court-house, the new post
office (1883-84), the new police courts (1884), the European hospital,
the jail, the Tanglin barracks, and the Raffles school (dating from
1823). The Raflies public library and museum had 320 subscribers
in 1885 and 34,250 visitors, the books issued numbering 16,348.
Several Englisli papers, as well as one Chinese and one Malay, are
published at Singapore. As a trading-port Singapore has great ad-
vantages over and above its position on the Straits. The harbour
is safe and has good anchorage, and it can be approached without
the assistance of pilots from three directions. New Harbour is the
name of the channel which lies between the southern projection of
the main island and the small island of Blakan Mati, and is divided
by the still smaller island of Aycr Brazi. It is there that the
Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company and the Mes-
sagerics Maritimes have their docks and depots. AtTanjong Pagar
there are two graving docks,— Victoria Dock having a length of
450 feet, a breadth of 65 feet, and a sill-depth at spring-tides of 20
feet, and the corresponding figures for Albert Dock being 470 feet,
60 feet, and 21 feet. The two Now Harbour Docks are respectively
415 and 459 feet long, and 42 and. 62 feet broad, and liavo sill-
depths of 14-1 5i and 19-20 feet At Pulo Brani, Bon Accord
Dock has a length of 330 feet, a breadth of 50, and a sill-depth of
17. A largo admir.alty dock for the uasof abipaof the British navy
is being constructed. Opposite Singapore proper the sea shallows
to a few fathoms. The tides (tables of which were first published
in 1884) are as yet imperfectly registered, but in.gcDora) tJiey
consist of a principal high-water and low-water Buccerded by «
secondary high water and low water of the most limited range,'
94
S I N — S 1 JN
The commercial movement of the .port has rapidly attained vast
dimensions. While in 1851-52 the total exports and imports
amounted to £5,739,556, they reached £10,371,300 in 1859-60,
£18,292,180 in 1870, £23,050,943 in 1880, and £25,931,930 in
1883. There is no railway in 'the island; but in 1886 a steam
tramway was opened from Tanjong Pagar to Elgin Bridge. Till
quite recently the town was practically without defences ; but
since 1885 the colony has constructed a series of batteries at Sera-
pong, Blakan Mati, ilount Palmer, &c., at a cost of £75,000, and
the home Government has expended £90,000 on the ordnance.
The name Singapore or Sinhapura, i.e.. Lion City, was originally
given to a town founded by Hinduized Malay or Javanese settlers
from Sumatra at an early date in the Christian era. The com-
mercial importance of the place in the llth century is attested by
Barros, but the Sanskrit origin of the name had by his time been
forgotten, and he was taught to derive it from Malay words. Not
long afterwards the town must have fallen into decay, and at the
beginning of the present century the only trace of its existence
was certain rock-inscriptions in a very old character, and the whole
island had not more than 150 inhabitants. Alexander Scott
recognized the excellent position of the island in the 18th century,
and Sir Stamford EafBes, whose attention was called to it by
Captains Ross and Crawford of 'the Bombay marine, fixed on it as
the site of the great commercial emporium which he determined
to found for the encouragement of British trade in the East. In
1819 permission was obtained to build a British factory on the south
coast ; and in 1824 the island was purchased from the sultan of
Johor for 60,000 Spanish dollars (£13,500) and a life annuity of
24,000 dollars (£5400). The city became the capital of the Straits
•Settlements instead of Prince of Wales Island in 1832.
See Belcher, Toporfe of the Sajnarang ; CoWtn^vrooi's yaturaUsC's Hambles in
the Chinese Seas ; The Directortf of the Straits Setftemenfs for 1SS6; the Journal
of the Straits Branch of the Ro'jal Asiatic Society, published at Singapore ; and
other works quoted under the heading Steaits Sextleueitts.
SINGBHUJif, a British district in the lieutenant-
governorship of Bengal, lying between 21° 59' and 22°
53' N. lat. and between 85° 2' and 86° 56' E. long. It
has an area of 3753 square miles, and is bounded on the
N. by the districts of LohArdaga and j\I4nbhum, on the E.
by ]\Iidnapur, on the S. by the tributary states of Orissa,
and on the W. by LohirdagA and the tributary states of
ChutiA NAgpur. Its central portion consists of a long
undulating tract of country, running east and west, and
enclosed by great hill ranges. The depressions lying
between the successive ridges comprise the most fertile
part, which varies in elevation above sea-level from 400
feet near the SubarnarekhA on the east to 750 feet around
the station of ChAibdsA. South of this an elevated plateau
of 700 square miles rises to upward^ of 1000 feet. In
the west of the district is an extensive mountainous tract,
sparsely inhabited by the wildest of the Kols ; while in
the extreme south-west corner is a still grander mass of
i&ountaius, known as "Saranda of the seven hundred
hills," rising to a height of 3500 feet. From the LayAdA
range on the north-west of Singbhum many rocky spurs
strike out ifito the district, the more prominent of them
attaining an elevation of 2900 feet. Among other ranges
and peaks are the Chaitanpur range, reaching an elevation
of 2529 feet, and the KApargAdi range, a conspicuous ridge
rising abruptly from the plain and running in a south-
easterly direction until it culminates in TuiligAr Hill
(2492 feet). The principal rivers are the Subarnarekha,
which with its affluents flows through the eastern portion
of the district ; the Koel, which rises west of Ranchi, and
drains the Saranda region ; and the Baitarani, which
touches the southern border for 8 miles. About two-
thirds of Singbhiim district is covered with primeval
forest, containing some valuable timber trees ; in the
forests tigers, leopards, bears, buffaloes, and several kinds
of deer abound, and small herds of elephants occasionally
wander from the MeghAsani Hills in Morbhanj. The
climate is dry, and the hot season is extremely trying,
the thermometer frequently registering 106° F. in the
shade ; the average annual rainfall is about 57 inches.
The census of 1881 disclosed a population of 453,775 (226,681
males and 227,094 females); Hindus numbered 447,810, Moham-
medans 2329, and Christians 2988. The only town containing a
population of more than 5000 is Chaibasa, the civil station and
administrative headquarters of the district, with 6006 inhabitants.
The staple crop of Singbhum is rice, and the other chief crops
are wheat, Indian corn, pease, gram, mustard, sugar-cane, cotton,
and tobacco. The principal manufactures are coarse cotton cloths,
br.iss and earthenware cooking utensils, and soapstone platters.
Cereals, pulses,' oil-'seeds, stick-lac, and iron comprise the chief
exports ; and the imports include salt, cotton thread, English cloth
goods, tobacco, and brass utensils.
Colonel Dalton, in his Ethnology of Bengal, says that tb«
Singbhum Kajput chiefs have been known to the British Govern-
ment since 1803, when the marquis of Yfellesley was governor-
general of India ; but there does not appear to have been any
intercourse between British ofPcials and the people of the Kolhan
previous to 1819. The Hos or Larka Kols, the characteristic
aboriginal race of Singbhum district, would allow no stranger to
settle in, or even pass through, the Kolhan ; they were, however,
subjugated in 1836, when the head-men entered into engagements
to bear true allegiance to the British Government. The country
remained tranquil and prosperous until 1857, when a rebellion
took place among the Kols under Parahat Raja. After a tedious
campaign they surrendered in 1859, and the capture of the raja
put a stop to their disturbances.
SINGING. See Voice.
SINHALESE. See Ceylon.
SINIGAGLIA, or Senioaixia (the official form), a city
of Italy, in the province of Ancona, in 43° 43' 16" N. lat.,
on the coast of the Adriatic, 17 miles by rail north of
Ancona. It is well built, with broad and well-payed
streets, and has the general appearance of a thriving
commercial town. A modern cathedral, erected subsequent
to 1787, a large Jewish synagogue, a theatre, the com-
munal buildings, and the old palace of the dukes of Urbino
are the more notable buildings. The communal library
was founded by Cardinal Nicola Antonelli in 1767; and
the principal hospital and one of the orphanages date
from 1534. The port is formed by the lower reaches of
the Misa,, a small stream which flows through the town
between solid embankments constructed of Istrian marble.
Between July 20 and August 8 Sinigaglia annually holds
one of the largest fairs in Italy, which dates originally
from 1200, when Sergius, count of Sinigaglia, received
from the count of ^Marseilles, to whose daughter he was
affianced, certain relics of Mary Magdalene. The fair has
diminished in importance since the opening of the railway,
but formerly it used to be visited by merchants from
France, Switzerland, Austria, Germany, and especially the
Levant. The population, exclusive of the suburbs, was
10,501 in 1861 and 6634 (commune 22,499) in 1881.
Sinigaglia is the ancient Sena {'Xrivri) or (to distinguish it from
Sena Julia, i.e., Siena) Sena Gallica, a town of the Galli Senones
{"S.-hvaives), whose name appears as Senogallia as early as Pliny.
Sena was made a Roman colony immediately after the conquest
of the Senones in 289 B.C. It was the rendezvous of the consuls
Livius and Nero before the battle of the Metaurus, rlso known as
the-hattle of Sena, in which Hasdmbal was defeated (207 B.C.).
The sack of the town by Pompey, Sulla's lieutenant, in 82 B.c., ia
the only other notable fact in its ancient annals. Ravaged by
Agaric, fortified by the exarch Longinus, and again laid waste by
the Lombards in the 8th century and by the Saracens in the
9th, Sinigaglia was at length brought so low by the Guelf and
Ghibelline ware, and especially by the severities of Guido do
Montefeltro, that it was chosen, by Dante as the typical instance of
a ruined city. In the 15th century it was captured and recaptured
again and again by the Jilalatesta and their opponents. Sigismond
Malatesta of Rimini erected strong fortifications round the town in
1450-1455. The lordship of Sinigaglia was bestowed by Pius II.
on his nephew Antonio Piccoloniini, but the people of the town in
1464 placed themselves anew under Paul II., and Giacomo Piccolo-
mini in 1472 failed in his attempt to seize the place. Sixtus TI.
assigned the lordship to the Delia Kovere family, from whom it
was transferred to Lorenzo di Medici in 1516." After 1624 it formed
part of the legation of Urbino.
SmKING FUND. See National Debt, voL xviL
p. 245.
SINOPE, or in Turkish SinOb, a town and seaport on
the north coast of Asia Minor, on the isthmus and
peninsula of Boztepeh, which forms part of the most
northerly projection of the Anatolian -jeaboard. " Though
S 1 O— S I R
95
to possesses the finest natural liarbour save one in the
Black Sea, defective communication with the interior, and
the consequent rivahy of Ineboli (since about 1818), have
prevented Sinope taking its natural position as a great
commercial centre. But between 1882 and 1885 roads
have been constructed which gi^ve direct access southward
to Cresarea and even to Tarsus, near the south coast. The
town still bears the stamp of its former importance. On
the isthmus stands a huge but for the most part ruined
castle, originally By::antine and afterwards strengthened
by the Seljuk sultans ; and the old town is surrounded by
Byzantine walls. Of early Roman or Greek antiquities
there is little trace ; but the ancient local coinage furnishes
a very beautiful and interesting series of types (see M. J.
P. Si.x's paper in The Jfumismaiic Chronicle, 1885). The
population has not greatly changed since 1868, when it
was found to be 9668 inhabitants, of whom 7299 were
Mohammedans and 2369 Greeks and others.
Sinope (Sini^Tj), wliose origin was mythically assigned by its
own ancient inhabitants to Aiitolycus, a companion of Hercules,
was colonized by the Milesians, and ultimately became the most
flourishing Greek settlement on the coast of the Euxine. .In the
5th century B.C. it received a colony of Athenians; and by the
4th it had extended its authority over a considerable tract of
country and become itself the mother of several colonies — Cerasus
(Kerasiln), Trapezus (Trebizond), Cotyora, &c. Its fleet was
practically dominant in the fjixine, except towards the west, whero
it shared the field \rith Byzantium. When in 220 B.C. Sinope
was for the first time attacked by the king of Pontus, the assistance
of the Rhodians enabled it to maintain its independence. But
where JItthradates IV. failed Pharnaces succeeded; and the city,
taken by surprise in 183 B.C., became the capital of the Pontian
monarchy. Under llithradatesthe Great, who was born in Sinope,
it had just been raised to the highest degree of prosperity, with fine
buildings, naval arsenals, and well-built harbours, when the Romans
under Lucullus and Pompey eflected the subjugation of Pontus.
In 64 B.C. the body of the murdered Mithradates was brought
home to the royal mausoleum. Under Julius CKsar the city
received a Roman colony. In the Middle Ages it became
subject to Trebizond, and in 1470 it passed into the hands of the
Turks. In November 1853 the Russian vice-admiral Nakhimoff
destroyed here a division of the Turkish fleet and reduced a good
part of the town to ashes.
SIOUX CITY, a city of the United States, the capital
of Woodbury county, Iowa, lies 156 miles north-west of
Des Moines, on the sloping banks of the Missouri river.
It is a great railway centre (Chicago, Milwaukee, and St
Paul Railway, Sioux City and Pacific Railway, &c.), has
an extensive trade, and contains an opera house, foundry
and machine shops, pork-packing factories, and mills.
The population of the city (which was laid out in 1851
and incorporated in 1857) was 3101 in 1870 and 7366 in
1880 (town.ship 7845).
SIPHANTO, SiPHENO, or Siphno (ancient Greek 2t'^i'09),
an island of the Greek Archipelago, in the nomarchy of
the Cyclades, 30 miles south-west of Syra. It has an
area of 28 square miles, and the population in 1879 was
5762. A ridge of limestone hills — whoso principal sum-
mits. Mount Elias and St Simeon, are crowned by old
Byzantine churches — runs through the island ; for about
2 miles along the western slope stretches a scries of
villages, each white-washed house with its own garden
and orchard. Apollonia, ono of the five (so called because
built on the site of a temple to Apollo), is the modern
capital ; formerly this rank belonged to Kastro (also called
Seraglio), an "old-world Italian town" with medieval
castle and fortifications, and an old town-hall bearing date
1365. Inscriptions found on the spot show that Kastro
stands on the site of the ancient city of Siphnos ; and Mr
Bent identifies the other ancient town of Minoa (see
Stephanos) with the place on the coast where a Hellenic
white marble tower is distinguished as the Pharos ^or
lighthouse and another as the tower of St John.
Churches and convents of Byzantine architecture aro
scattered about the island. One building of this class is
especiaUy interesting — the school of the Holy Tomb or
school of Siphnos, founded by Greek refugees from
Byzantium at the time of the iconoclastic persecutions, and
afterwards a great centre of intellectual culture for the
Hellenic world. The endowments of the school are now
made over to the gymnasium of Syra. In ancient times
Siphnos was famous for its gold and silver mines, the site
of which is still easily recognized by the excavations and
refuse-heaps. A French company has started mitiing
operations at Kamara. As in antiquity so now the potters
" the island are known throughout the Archipelago,
f he wealth ot the ancient Siphniotes was shown by their treasury
at Delphi, where they deposited the tenth of their gold and silver";
but, says the legend, tliey once sent Apollo a gilded and not a
golden bull, and he in his anger flooded their mines. That the
mines were invaded by the sea is still evident; and by Strabo's
time the inhabitants of the island were noted for their poverty.
Puring the Venetian period it was ruled first by the Da Corogna
fsjiiily and after 1456 by the Gazzadiui, whg were expelled by the
Turks in 1617.
SIPHON', or Syphon^, an instrument usually in the
form of a bent tube for ■ conveying liquid over the edge of
a vessel and delivering it at a lower level, or in a position
of less hydrostatic pressure. The principle on which it
acts (see HYDKOilECHANics) may be understood from the
accompanying diagram. A-BC is a tube fiUed with liquid,
the shorter limb dipping under the
surface of the liquid in jar a, the
longer in jar b. The pressure in the
tube at A. is atmospheric pressure
minus that of the vertical column
AB', while that at C is atmospheric
pressure minus that of the column
CB '. When CB" is longer than AE'
the pressure at C is of course less
than that at A, and- a current flows
in the direction ABC through the siphon. When
AB' = B"C, that is, when the Liquid stands at the same
level, pressure is equal in the two limbs, and the current
ceases. The siphon has practically a certain minimum
diameter for each liquid, as capillarity prevents a fluid
from flowing out of tubes of very small bore unless under
the influence of electricity, heat, or great pressure. The
instrument is largely employed for chemical work, both in
the laboratory and in manufacturing processes ; it is formed
of glass, india-rubber, lead, or other substance, according
to the purpose for which it is intended. The simple
siphon (see fig.) is used by filling it with the liquid to be
decanted, closing the longer limb with the finger and
plunging the shorter into the liquid, and it mu^t be! filled
for each time of using. Innumerable forms havo. been
devised adapted for all purposes, and provided _ with
arrangements for filling the tube, or for keeping itfuU
and starting it into action automatically when required.
The former jpurposo is usually effected by blowing into
tho vessel through a second opening in the stopper through
which the siphon passes, or by means of a sucking or
blowing tube attached to the longer limb, or by pouring
in liquid through a fle.^tiblo tube attached at tho bend.
The second plan is frequently realized by having a stop-
cock on the longer limb and a valve opening upwards on
tho shorter, or by having both limbs of equal length
and each standing in a cup, in which case when the level
changes in either cup tho siphon tends to equalize it by
conveying liquid from tho higher to the lower. Many
other forms aro in constant use in tho arts, and tho siphon
is also employed in some of its modifications in surgery,
in engineering, and in other sciences
SIRACULDES. See Jesus, the Son op Sirach.
SIRAJGANJ, a town in tho district of Pabna, Bcngw,
«J6
SI R — S I IX
and the most importani, river-mart in that province, is
situated near the JamnnA or main stream of the
Brahmaput.va in 2i° 26' 68" N. lat. and 89° 47' 5" E.
long., witQ a population of 21,037 (11,213 males and
9824 females) in 1881. The business of SirAjganj is
that of a changing station ; the agricultural produce of
the surrounding country is brought in in small boats and
transferred to wholesale merchants for shipment to
Calcutta in steamers or large cargo boats, and in return
piece goods, salt, hardware, and all sorts of miscellaneous
articles are received from Calcutta for distribution. SirAj-
ganj is also the centre of the jute trade of Eastern Bengal.
SIR-DARIA. See Sye-Darya.
SIREDON. At the end of last century specimens
of a kind of branchiate tailed Amphibian were brought
to Europe from the lakes of Mexico; they were examined
by the zoologists of Paris and described by Cuvier in
Humboldt's Recueil d' Observations de Zootogie, vol. i.,
and IJy Daudin in Hist, des Reptiles (Paris, 1802-1804),
under their native name of "Axolotls." The animals
were named Siren pisciformis by Shaw (ZooL, vol. iii.).
Wagler, in his NatUrliches System, der Ampkibien (Stuttgart,
1828-1833), separated the axolotl from the LinnEean
genus Siren and called it Siredon axolotl, and later writers
have often referred to the animal under the name Siredon
pisciforme, Shaw.
The axolotl of Mexico is about 6 or 7 inches in length;
it has four pairs of gill-slits and three pairs of long
feather-like external branchiae. The branchial apertures
are between the hyoid arch and the first branchial arch,
and between the first-second, second-third, and third-
fourth branchial arches. The branchiae are attached
to the first, second, and third branchial arches. The
body is cylindrical, and a median membranous fin
extends along the trunk dorsally, is continued along the
tail," passes round the end of the latter and terminates
ventrally at the anus. It has four limbs, which are short
and somewhat stout ; the anterior terminate in four and
the posterior in five digits. The colour of the axolotl is a
uniform black.
The animal is therefore, except in size, very similar to
the aquatic larva of Triton, or other Salamandroid, and
Cuvier expressed the opinion that it was a larval form
which for some unknown reason was unable to attain the
adult condition. That it could not be considered simply
as the larva of an unknown species of Salamandroid was
evident from the fact that it possessed fully developed
sexual organs in both sexes. There was every reason to
believe that it bred freely in the branchiate condition in
which it was discovered. The animal is so common in
the lakes near the city of Mexico that it is brought
regularly to market and used largely by the Mexicans as
food (9).i
If nothing more than tlie above were known about the axolotl
it would be classed among the Pcrennihranchiata, in the family
Proteida, having its nearest ally in the genus Mcnohranchus. Up
till the year 1865 no actual observations had been made by
zoologists on the breeding of the axolotl: all that was known
was that the genital organs in many of the specimens examined
were in perfectly mature condition. In that'year, on January 18,
6 axolotls, 5 males and 1 female, — which had been living for a year
in the menagerie of reptiles of the llusee d'Histoire Naturelle at
Paris, — began to breed, and the deposition and hatching of the
eggs was carefully studied by Prof. A. Dumeril (1). The eggs were
2 mm. in diameter, and the period of development within the egg
was 28 to 30 days ; the larvae were hatched in February, and were
14 mm. to 16 mm. in length. In the beginning of September,
when the larva? had almost reached the size of the parents, it was
noticed that one of them was undergoing a metamorphosis similar
to that of tlie larval Triton to the adult. In a short time yellow
spots appeared on the skin, the branchi» disappeared, the gill-
slits' closed up, the median fin disappeared, the animal began
^ These numerals refer to the " Literature " iri/m.
to breathe air and permanently quitted the water. The same
process of metamorphosis waa repeated by several of the larvse,
until finall} out of sever.il hundred about thirty reached the
salamandroid condition. The parents in the meantime were still
alive, and had undergone no change. When the structure of the
transformed specimens was examined, they were found to resemble
in all generic characters the genus Ambbjstoma, of which several
species were known, inhabiting various parts of North America.'
The consideration of Dumeril's discovery gives rise to several per-
plexing questions, which have been discussed by many zoologists
experienced in the study of the Amphibia, and even now can
scarcely be said to be completely settled. The first question is —
To what species of Ambhjstoina did the transformed axolotls of
Dumeril belong? Dumeril himself, in the full account (2) which
he published concerning the animals and their metamorphosis, was
unable to give a decided opinion concerning the ideutification of
the species of his Ainblystoma, but on a subsequent occasion he
confirmed the suggestion of Prof. E. D. Cope (10) that the specific
characters were those of A. mavortium Cope (described in Proc.
Ac. Philad., 1867).
The publication of Dumeril's discovery excitea a great deal of
interest among European naturalists, and for a time experiments
and observations on axolotls in captivity were carried on with
great earnestness. The metamorphosis in the case of Dumeril's
specimens had taken place quite unexpectedly, but the case seemed
to offer an opportunity for ascertaining the action of definite
conditions in producing definite processes of growth. M^rie von
Chauvin (6), at Freiburg, at the instigation of Prof. 'Weissmann,
attempted, and with perfect success, to transform young axolotls
into the Ambhjsloma form by gradually bringing the animals
from water into air.
The transformed axolotls observed by Dumeril were Kept alive
in the Paris Museum, and for ten years showed no symptoms
of breeding or sexual activity. It was currently believed that
the Amblt/stoma derived from the metamorphosis of Siredon was
sterile, liis belief ultimately proved erroneous. In the autumn,
of 1874 the animals in the menagerie of reptiles were transferred
to new premises, where they were all placed in more healthy
conditions. Immediately after this the Amblystoma deposited
fertilized eggs, and the fact was reported by M. Blanchard to
the Academie des Sciences (4), with the comment that the
Amblystoma was thus shown to be similar to other cold-blooded
animals which were capable of reproducing in both the young and
the adult condition.
Although at first Dumeril believed and stated that his specimens
of axolotl belonged to the species which bears that name in
Mexico, he afterwards, in his more detailed work on the subject
(2), explained that the grounds for his first opinion had been,
insufficient. American zoologists, especially Baird and Cope, had
distinguished several species of Siredon, and Baird had separated
the Mexican species, which alone was originally called axolotl,
as Siredon mcxicanus. Dumeril came to the conclusion that the
axolotls in th'e Paris Museum were identical with Siredon liche-
noides, Bkird (described in Stansburg, Exped. Gr. Salt Lake,
Utah). All the axolotls which were kept and studied and sub-
jected to experiment by naturalists on the Continent after
Dumeril's discovery were descendants of the Paris specimens, so
that the results obtained really did not necessarily prove anything
with regard to the true Mexican axolotl, Siredon mexicctntis, if
that were really a distinct species. There is no evidence in
literature to show whence the first axolotls in the Paris Museum
were obtained. It was evident that Siredon lichenoides was
capable of breeding in both the larval and the salamandroid
condition, and that its metamorphosis in captivity in Europe was
rare and to a certain extent controlled by definite external con-
ditions. Prof. 0. C. Marsh has recorded his experience of the
metamorphosis of S. lichenoides. He obtained several specimens
from alpine lakes 7000 feet above the sea in "Wyoming Territory,
and some of these metamorphosed into Amblystoma mavortium.
Cope. Marsh does not say if the larvte he obtained were sexually
mature, nor did he ascertain if breeding of the species in the
larval condition took place at all in the lakes he visited ; he
thinks it probable that the metamorphosis in that region was
rare in the natural conditions.
The metamorphosis of tlie true axolotl, undoubtedly obtained
from the Lake of Mexico, seems to have been observed only once —
namely, by Tegetmeier in London. That naturalist had 5 specimens,
and one of them underwent the metamorphosis. In 1871 Cope
(10) stated that no one had seen the metamorphosis of the true
siredon, Siredon mexicaniis, Baird, and that no AmUystomm had
been obtained from Mexico south of the Tropic of Cancer, while
' The generic characters of Amilystoma, Tschudi, are, 'according to
Boulenger — tongue subcircular or oval, with radiating plicse, luteral
borders free, anterior border slightly free ; two transverse series of
palatine teeth iu same straight line, not separated by a wide interspace
in the middle ; toes five ; tail more or leas compressed.
S 1 11 — S I K
97
tho true axolotl is found south of that line. Ho was unaware
of Tcctmeier's observation. He further declared that Prof, liaird
was aware of the metamorphosis of all the North American species
of Siredon so-called, excluding S. viexicanus, years before the
observation of it by Dumeril, though he had at first named one of
them Siredmi lichenoides, in the belief that it was adult. Cope
considered the observation of Dumeril important, as showing that
siredons reproduced as such. „ ,. , ., ,
Finally, according to Boulenger (7), the S. licheno^es nml
mcxicanus of Baird are synonymous, the Pa.-is axolotl is identica
with the same species, and the perfect form into which it
changed is identical with A. tigrinum, mexicanum, and viavortium
of Cope, obscurum of Baird, while the form named iiredon
nracihs by Baird is probably the larva of Ambl>jstoma tenebrosv.m.
Boulenger adopts the name A. iiyrinum of the synonyms given
above Snd gives as the distribution United States and Mexico ;
the specific diagnosis is-series of palatine teeth extending to
external fissure of choana; plicae of tongue radiating from behind ;
costal grooves twelve; head large; brown or blackish, with yellow
It is°therefore very probable that the Paris specimens were
reallv Mexican axolotis, and there is no doubt that these
anim'als do in captivity undergo metamorphosis, bo '" as is
known, they never do so in their natural conditions. But the
aniinMs are specifically identical with A. tigrinum, which is lounU
in many parts of the United States, from New Jersey to California
and normally breeds in the salamandroid condition. It is not
known at present whether the larva of A. tigrinum ever attains
sexual maturity in other regions where the species occurs besides
Metioo. It is not improbable that it does so. De lilippi (»)
found in a marsh on the shores of the Lago Maggioro 48 la"'* »'
Triton alpcstris in the branchiate condition, which contained tully
developed ova and spermatozoa, so that the occurrence of sexual
maturity in the larvte of Amblysloma is not unique. Prof. August
Weissmann (5) has discussed at considerable length and with much
thouchtfulness the true significance of the phenomena exhibited by
tlic a°-olotl, and has concluded that its ancestors passed through the
normal lifediistorv of Amblyslo7na, the climate of the Mexican
tableland having been at one time moist enough to permit ot the
existence of a terrestrial Salamandroid ; that the climate has now
became so dry and unfavourable to vegetation that no amphibian
can live in it except in water ; and that Amblysloma has become
adapted to these conditions by ceasing to pass through its
metamorphosis, and breeding entirely in tho branchiate condition.
Thus the metamorphosis which takes place occasionally in captivity
is a case of what has been called since Darwin's epoch atavism ; its
peculiarity consists in the fact that the evolution of the animal has
lesulted in tho arrest ot development at a larval stage, and the
occasional reversion is the continuation of the development to the
higher condition of the ancestor. Atavism is the occasional
resemblance of one individual to some remote ancestors instead of
to itH immediate parents. Another possible way of explaining the
axolotl is to suppose that it has remained in the perennibraiichiate
condition while other members of the same species elsewhere have
developed into the salamandroid condition. This explanation
cannot bo the true one. It would necessitate the beliet that a
metamorphosis lasting a few days or weeks, and induced often by
the gradual removal of the animal from water into air, could
produce tho same specific characters as a gradual development
which has occupied a great number of generations. 1 he axolotl is
an example of one of the most curious and interesting modes by
Which animals may be adapted to their conditions, and two species
formed out of one. At present the disappearance of the meta-
morphosis from the life-history of the axolotl has taken place so
recently that not even specific differences exist, according to some
obaervers, between tho metamorphosed axolotl and the natural
Amblysloma tigrinum. At some future time slight differences are
almost sure to occur, and then there will be two species or the
tendency to metamorphosis in the axolotl will bo lost. In the
latter rase some slight differences will probably be developed
between the axolotl and the branchiate larva of A. tigrinum in
other parts of America ; and then the axolotl and A. iujnnum will
bo two species. Fiually, it may be pointed out that it is possible
that tho axolotl could have reached its present locality and
conditions without any change in tho climate of Mexico. Ihe
lakes in the arid district might somehow occasionally be visited by
breeding A. tigrinum, and of tho larvic so produced in thcni soino
might become sexually mature before metamorphosing, and so give
rise to the present axolotis.
There is some reason to believe, according to tho Amoiican
zoolcist Prof. Cope, that tho perennibranchiato Menobranchus
lateralis, Tschudi, of the Mississippi, which when full gro\yn is over
a foot in length, and has four branchial apertures, stands in tho
eaine rclatiou to tho genus £atrackuscps, Boiiap., as Sircdon to
Amblyslomn.
Lilr'valur,.—(V) A. DumdrM, CompUt ncnilm, vol. Ix., 19.!.',. p. 70S; (2) A.
Bumlirll, Nouo.Arcli.'/Hul., II.. 1866: (Sp A, Di;;n^'H: Cojimtof lUndin, "ol. Ilf
D 775- (4) M Blanchard, ibid., vol. Ixxxll., 187«, -p. 719; (5) A. 'Welstnianii,
Zeilt^lir f. tcisi. Zool., xxv. p. 297; (6) M. von Chauvln. tftid,, xxvil. p. 622;
(7) G A Boulengev, «n(. ilus. Cal.—Balrachia gradimlia, 4c.. 1682; (8) De
Vlllppi Archicio per (a Zoologia, 18C1 ; (9) Do SauMurc, Vtrhandl. d. Schueic
Mlur/orsch. Geselhch. Eintiedtln, 1868; (10) E. D. Cope, "McUniorphosIs o(
Axolotl," Amer. Journal. 1871 ; (11) 0. C. Mar»tl, Amer. Jour., [2), iItI. p. 364;
(12) Tegetmeler, Proc. Zool. Sot., 1870. (J- T. C.)
SIREN. Siren lacertina, Lin. {Syst. Nat., i., Addenda), "
is an animal belonging to the class Amphibia {q.v.). It
forms the type of the family Sirenidie, called by Prof.
Huxley Trachysioviala, among tho group Perennibran-
chiata. The body is elongate and eel-like, only the
anterior limbs being present ; the posterior are entirely
wanting. The anterior limbs are short and feeble, and
each is furnished with four digits pointed at the ends.
The head is small ; the snout ia short and broad, and the
nostrils are placed at its extreme end. The tongue is free
anteriorly. The jaws are destitute of teeth and covered
with a horny sheath like a beak. There are numerous
teeth on the vomer, arranged in two large patches con-
verging anteriorly. The eyes are very small. On each
side of the neck are three branched external gills attached
to the first, second, and third branchial arches ; and below
the gills are three reduced branchial apertures. The tail
is shorter than the body, much compressed, and provided
with a median membranous fin ; the tail terminates in a
point. The skin is smooth, and black in colour, some-
times sprinkled with white dots. Siren grows to a large
size, some specimens measuring 3 feet in length; the
largest example in the British Museum is 670 mm. or
about 2 feet 3 inches. The. animal inhabits the stagnant
waters of marshes in South Carolina and Texas._
The only other member of the family Sirenidx is
Pseudobranchv3 siriatus {Gra.y, Brit. Mus.Cat.—Batrachia,
Isted.). This animal resembles Siren in most respects,
but has only a single branchial aperture on each side, and
only three digits to the anterior limb. Its colour is dark-
brown with a broad yellow band on each side and a
narrower one inferiorly. It occurs in Georgia, but seerns
to be very rare ; there are two specimens in the Paris
Musee, none in the British Museum.
Figures of Siren lacertina are to be found in the following
workli-— Cuvier in Humboldt's Obs. Zool, i. pi. 11; Daudin,
Kcptiles, viii. pl. 49 ; Holbr., N. Amer. Herp., pi. 34. Pseudo-
branchus slriatus 1s figured in Dumdril and Bibron, ErpOologie
Giniralc, pl. 96; Holbr., loc. crt., pl. 36; Leconte, Ann. Lye.
N. v., 1824, pl. 4 (under name Siren striata)
SIREN, or Syeen. See Acoustics, vol. i. p. 109.
SIRENS, fabulous creatures of Greek mythology, that,
like the Loreley of German legend, lured mariners to
destruction by their sweet song. In the Odyssey Ulysses
sails past their island; but, warned by Circe, hehad stopped
tho ears of his crew with wax and caused himself to be
bound to the mast. In Homer they are two in number,
but in later writers they are generally three, and are
located on the coast of Italy, near Sorrento and Capri, or
on tho Straits of Messina. The tomb of one of thenri,
Parthenopo by name, was shown at Naples in Strabo's
time. A sanctuary of the Sirens stood on a headland
near Sorrento. According to Erato.sthenes the Sirens
were a thrce-headcd rock separating the Bay of Naples
from tho Gulf of Salerno ; but Strabo says they were three
rocky islands on the southern side of tho cape. Tho capo
itself (now Capo Campanelia) was sometimes called tho
Cape of tho Sirens. When the Argonauts drew near the
islo of the Sirens, Orpheus struck up and drowned their
song. According to Hyginus tho Sirens were daughtera
of the river Achelous and tho muso Melpomene, and
because they had not rescued Proserpine from Pluto they
wore turned by Ceres into winged creatures, who were to
live only so long as no one passed by them a.s they sang.
So, when Ulysses had eluded them, they flung themselves
into the sea. According to another story, they wcro
98
S I E — S I R
instigated by Hera to vie with the Muses in singing ; the
Muses were victorious, and plucked the feathers from the
Sirens and made crowns for themselves out of them. In
art they are usually represented with the bodies of vromen
and the legs of birds, with or without wings. More
rarely they appear .as birds with only the heads of women.
They seem to have had a funereal significance, and were
often represented on tombs. For representations of them
see .1. E. Harrison, Myths of the Odyssey.
SIRICIUS, pope from December 384 till November
398, was the successor of Damasus and was himself suc-
■ceeded by Anastasius I. See Popedom, vol. xix. p. 491.
SIllMUR, one of the sub-Himalayan or Simla hill states
under the government of the Punjab, lying between
30' 24' and 31° N. lat. and between 77° 5' and 77° 50' E.
long. Its area is 1096 square miles, and it is bounded
on the N. by the hill states of Balsan and Jubal, on
the E. by the British district of Dehra Dun, from which
it is separated by the rivers Tons and Jumna, on the
S.W. by Ambala district, and on the N.W. by the states
of Pati.lla and KeunthAl. Except a very small tract
about Nahan, the chief town and residence of the raja,
on the south-western extremity, where a few streams rise
and flow south-westward to the Saraswati and Ghaggar
rivers, the whole of Sirmiir lies in the basin of the Jumna,
which receives from this tract the Giri and its feeders the
JalAl and the Palur. The Tons, the great western arm of
the stream called loiver down the Jumna, flows along the
eastern boundary of Sirmiir, and on the right side receives
from it the two small streams Minus and Nairai. • The
surface generally declines in elevation from north to south ;
the chief elevations on the northern frontier (Chor peak
and station) are about 12,000 feet above the sea. The
valley of the KhiArda Diin, which forms the southern part
of the state, is bounded on the S. by the Siwalik range,
the hills of which are of recent formation and abound in
fossil remains of large vertebrate animals. Though the
rocks of SirraAr consist of formations usually metalliferous,
the yield of mineral wealth is at present but small. The
forests are very dense, so much so that the^sportsman
finds difficulty in making his way through them in search
of wild elephants, tigers, leopards, bears, and hycenas,
with which they abound. The climate of Sirmur varies
■with the elevation ; the northern extremity has very little
rain ; but large and excellent crops are everywhere to be
obtained by irrigation.
The population in 1881 was 112,371 (males 63,305, females 49,066),
the gi-eat majority bcin'^ 1 Ijiidus. The ouly town of any importance
13 Nahan, with a population of 5253. The principal products of
the state are opium, tobacco, and cereals, and its gross revenue is
estimated at £21,000. SiiuuM-, which means "a crowned head,"
was tlie place of residence of the r.ijas who ruled over the state
before the present dynasty entered the country. The reigning raja
(Sliamsher Prakash, K.C.S.I.) liolds his possessions by a grant
made on the expulsion of the Gurkhas by the British in 1815.
SIROHI, or SEEEOEEj-a native state in the RAjputdna
agency under the Government of India, with an area of
3020 square miles, lying between 24° 20' and 25° 20' N.
lat. and between 72° 10' and 73° 10' E. long., and bounded
on the W. and N. by MArwdr or Jodhpur, on the E. by
MewAr or Uddipur, on the S. by PAlanpur and the Mahi
Kdntha states of Edar and D^nta. The country is much
broken up by hills and rocky ranges ; the Aravalli range
divides it into two portions, running from north-east to
south-west. The south and southeast part of the terri-
tory is very tnountainous and rugged, containing the lofty"
Mount Abu, an isolated mass of granite rock, culminating
in a cluster of hills, enclosing several valleys surrounded
by rocky ridges, like great hollows. The highest peak
rises to 5653 feet above eea-level, and is one of the great
trigonometrical stations. On both sides of the Aravallis
the country is intersected with numerous water channels,
which run with considerable force and volume duriug the
height of the rainy season, but are dry for the greater
part of the year. 'JDhe only river of any importance is the
Western Bands. A large portion of the state is covered
with dense jungle, in which wild animals, including the
tiger, bear, and leopard, abound. Many splendid ruins
bear witness to the former prosperity and civilization of
the state. The climate is on the whole dry ; in the south
and east there is usually a fair amount of rain. On Abu
the average annual rainfall is about 64 inches, whereas in
Erinpura, less than 50 miles to th« north, the average fall
is only between 12 and 13 inches. The Western Rdjputdna
Railway runs through the length of the state, passing just
east of Mount Abu.
In 1881 the population numbered 142,903 (males 76,132, females
60,771), of whom 123,633 were Hindus, 2935 were Mohammedans,
and 16,137 were Jains. The town' of Sirohi, the capital of the
state, is situated at the western base of the range of hill? north of
Mount Abu, and its population (1881) numbered 5699. \7heat
and barley are the staple crops ; pulses and cotton are also grown.
The present ruling family of Sirohi are Deora Rajputs, a branch of
the great Chauhan clan, and are said to be immediately descended
from Deo Raj, a descendant of Pirthvi Raj, the Chauhan king of
Delhi. During the early years of the present century Sirohi suf-
fered much from wars with Jodhpur and the wild Mini hill tribes.
The protection of the British was sought in 1817 ; the pretensions
of Jodhpur to suzerainty over Sirohi were disallowed, and in 1823
a treaty was concluded with the British Government. For services
rendered during the mutiny of 1857 the reigning "rao" received a
remission of half his tribute.
SIRSA, a British district in the lieutenant-governorship
of the Punjab, lying between 29° 13' and 30° 40' N. lat.
and between 73° 57' and 75° 23' E. long. It has an area
of 3008 square miles, and is bounded on the N. by Firoz-
pur district and the native state of Patidla, on the W. by
the river Sutlej, on the S.W. by the native states of
.Bahdwalpur and Blkaner, and on the E. by Hissar
district. Lying as it does between the barren deserts of
Blkaner and the comparatively fertile though sandy plains
of the Ois-Sutlej states, Sirsa district in soil as well as
position forms an intermediate link between the two. .It
forms for the most part a bare and treeless pl&teau
stretching from the valley of the little river Ghaggar on
the east to the main stream of the Sutlej on its western
border. In the immediate neighbourhood of the Sutlej,
however, is a fertile alluvial tract {khddar), intersected by
numerous branches of the river, and flooded by their
outflow during the rainy season. Eastward of the khddar
lies the sandy central tableland, which is chiefly employed
for purposes of pasturage. East of this plateau is the
valley of the Ghaggar, a formida'ble torrent in the rainy
months, but so entirely depenlent on the rainfall of the
lower Himalayas that it is usually dry fronl October to
July. The Ghaggar expands into three jhils or marshy
lakes, the largest of which is 5 miles in length by 2 in
breadth. South of the Ghaggar spreads a sandy tract
beyond the reach of its fertilizing influence, and of small
agricultural value. Formerly the district was covered by
an excellent? grazing grass, known as dhdman, but with
the increase of cultivation it is fast disappearing. The
climate of Sfrsa is extremely dry, the average annual raini
fall reaching only 15 inches. The Rewari-Ferozeporel
Railway passes through the district from south to nortt
The population of the district, according to the census of 1831, was
253,275 (males 138,691, females 114,584), of whom 130,682 were
Hindus, 93,289 Mohammedans, and 28,303 Sikhs. The only town
with a population exceeding 10,000. is Sirsa, the administrative
headquarters of the district, with 12,292 inhabitants. The
modern town of Sirsa was founded in 1837, and the ruins of old
Sirsa lie near its south-west corner. It is a considerable entrepdt
for the trade of the wheat-^rovying countries to the north and
east with Blkaner and Marwar. At the opening of the present
century nearly the whole of Sirsa district was a barren almost
uncultivated waste. Gradually, however, with more peaceful times
1
SIS-
cnltivation li.is ngain extended. Of the total area 1353 square miles
are non'cultivatedand 1548 square miles are cultivable. Thestaple
product is bajra, wliich in 1882-83 occupied 546,1105 acres; tlie oilier
principal croiis are joar, barley, and wheat. The district hns little
trade except in agricultural produce, which goeschieflyto Bilinner;
and the only manufacture of any importance is tliat oi sajji, an
impure carbonate of soda, nsod in woshiiig ond dyeing cloth. Sirsa
was officially included in the territory conquered i'rom the Mahrattas
'in 1803, when it w«« almost entirely uninhabited. It required re-
conquering from tlio Bhattis in 1818 ; but it did not come under
British administration until 1837. During the mutiny of 1857
Sirsa was for a time wholly lost to British rule. On the restoration
of order the district was administered by Punjab officials, and in
the following year, with the remainder of the Delhi territory, it
was formally annexed to that province.
SISKIN (Dan. Sidslcen ; Germ. Zeisig and Zeising),
long known in England as a cage-bird, since, in 1544,
Turner mentioned it in that character under this name,i
and said that he had oniy once met Tvith it at large — the
Fringilla spinus of Linn;cus, and Carduelis or Chrysomi-
iris spinus of modern ■writers. In some of its structural
characters it is most nearly allied to the GoLDFrNCH (vol.
X. p. 758), and both are often placed in the same genus
by Bystematists ; but in its style of coloration, and still
more in its habits, it resembles the Eedpolls (cf. Linnet,
vol. xiv, p. 675), though without their slender figure,
being indeed rather short and stout of build. Yet it
hardly yields to them in activity or in the grace of its
actions, as it seeks its food from the catkins of the alder
or birch, regardless of the attitude it assumes while so
doing. Of an olive-green above, deeply tinted in, some
parts' vfith black and in others lightened by yellow, and
beneath of a yellowish-white again marked with black,
the male of this species has at least a, becoming if not a
brilliant garb, and possesses a song that is not unmclodious,
though the resemblance of some of its notes to the run-
ning-down of a piece of clockwork is more remarkable
than pleasing. The hen is still more soberly attired j but
it is perhaps the Siskin's disposition to familiarity that
makes it .so favourite a captive, and, though as a cage-bird
it is not ordinarily long-lived, it readily adapts itself to
the loss of liberty. Moreover, if anything like the need-
ful accommodation be afforded, it will build a nest and
therein lay its eggs, but it rarely succeeds in bringing up
its young in confinement. As a wild bird it breeds con-
stantly, though locally, throughout the greater part of
Scotland, and has frequently done so in England, but
more rarely in Ireland. The greater portion, however, of
the numerous bands which visit the British Islands in
autumn and winter doubtless come from the Continent —
perhaps even from ■ far to the eastward, since its range
stretches across Asia to Japan, in which country it is as
favourite a cage-bird as with us. The i;est of the Siskin
is very like that of the Goldfinch, but seldom so neatly
built ; the eggs, except in their smaller size, much
resemble those of the Greenfinch (vol. xi. p. 165).
A larger and more brightly coloured species, C. spinoidcs,
inhabits the Himalayas, but the Siskin has many other relatives
belonging to the Now World, and in thein serious modifications of
structure, especially in tlie form of the bill, occur. Some of these
relatives lead almost insensildy to the Geeenfinch {ut supra) and
its allies, others to the GoLDFiNcn {ui supra), the KcdpoUs, and so
on. Thus the Siskin perhaps maybe regarded as one of the less
modified descendants of a stock whence such forms as those just
mentioiied have sprung. Its striated phimago also favours this
view, as an evidence of permanent immaturity or generalization of
form, since striped feathers are so often the earliest clothing of many
of these birds, which only, get rid of them at tlioir first moult.
On this theory the Yellowbird or North-American "Goldfinch,"
C. tristis, would seem, with its immediate allies, to rank among
the highest forms of the group, and the Pine-Goldfinch, C. pinus,
at the same country, to be one of the lowest, — the cock of the
former being generally of a bright jonquil hue, with black crown,
tail, and wings — the last conspicuously barred with white, whilo
1 It is also calleil by biid-fnnciers " Abadavino"or " Aberderilie" —
uainea of which the etymology is wholly unknown.
S I s
99
neither Iieiip nor young eShibit nny striations. On the other hand,
neither sex of the latter at any age puts off its striped garb — the
mark, it may be pretty safely asserted, of an inferior stage of
development. The remaining species of the group, mostly South-
American, do not seem here to need particular notice. {A. N. )
. . SISMONDI, Jean Charles Leonard de (1773-
1842), whoso real name was Simonde, was born at
Geneva on May 9, 1773. His father and all his ancestors
seem to have borne the name Simonde, at least from the
time when' they migrated from Dauphind to Switzerland
at the revocation of the edict of Nantes. It was not till
after Sisraondi had become an author that, observing the
identity of his family arms with those of the once flourish-
ing Italian house of the Sismondi, and finding that some
members of that house had migrated to France, he assumed
the connexion without further proof and called himself
De Sismondi. The Simondes, however, were themselves
citizens of Geneva of the upper class, and possessed both
rank. and property, though the father was also a village
pastor. The future historian was well educated, but his
family wished him to devote himself to commerce rather
than literature, and he became a banker's clerk at Lyons.
Then the Kevolution bfoke out, and as it affected Geneva
the Simonde family took refuge in England, where they
stayed for eighteen months. Disliking, it is said, the
climate, they returned to Geneva, but found the state of
affairs still unfavourable ; there is even a legend that the
head of the family was reduced to sell milk himself in the
town. The greatev part of the family property was sold,
and with the proceeds they emigrated to Italy, bought a
small farm at Pescia near Lucca, and set to work to cul-
tivate it themselves. Sismondi worked hard here, both
with his hands and his mind, and his experiences gave him
the material of his first book. Tableau de V Agriculture
Toscane, which, after returning to Geneva, he published
there in 1801. Two years later he published -his Traite
de la Richesse Gommerciale, his first work on the subject
of political economy, which, with some differences of view,
continued to interest him to the end of his life (for his
position and work in this respect the reader is referred to
the article Polii-icaL Economy, vol. xix. p. 383). Mean-
while he began his great History of the Italian Republic^,
and was introduced to Madame do Stael. With her ho
became very intimate, and after being regularly enrolled
in the society of Coppet he was invited or commanded
(tor Madame de Staol's invitations ..had something o£
command) to form one of the suite with which the future
Coriane made the journey into Italy, resulting in Corinne
itself during the years 1804-5. Sismondi was not
altogether at his ease here, and he particularly disliked
Schlegel, who was also "of the company. But during this
journey he made the acquaintance of the countess of
Albany, Louisa of Stolberg, widow of Charles Edward,
and all her life long gifted with a singular faculty of
attracting the affection (Platonic and other) of men of
letters. She was now an old woman, and Sismondi's
relations with her were of the strictly friendly character,
but they were close and lasted long, and they produced
much valuable and interesting correspondence. In 1S07
appeared the first volumes of the above mentioned book
on tho Italian republics, which (though his essay m
political economy had brought him some reputation and
tho offer of a Russian professorship) first made Sismondij
prominent among European men of letters. The com-
pletion of this book, which extended to sixteen volumes,'
occupied him, though by no moans entirely, for the next
eleven years. Ho lived at first at Geneva, arid delivered
there some interesting lectures on the literature of tho
south of Europe, which were continued from time to time
and finally published ; and ho 'held an official post, — that
oi secretary of tho chamber of commerce for tbo then
100
S I S— S I s
department of the Leman. In 1813 he visited Paris for
the first time and abode there for some years, mixing
much in literary society. Although a Liberal and in his
earlier days almost an Anglomaniae, he did not welcome
the fall of the empire. During the Hundred Days he
defended Napoleon's constitutional, schemes or promises,
and had an interview with the emperor himself which is
one of the chief events of a not very eventful life. After
the Restoration he left Paris. On completing his great book
on the Italian republics he undertook a still greater, the'
Histoire des Franr^ais, which he planned on a vast scale,
and of which during the remaining twenty-three years of
his life he published twenty-nine volumes. His untiring
industry enabled him to compile many other books, but
it is on these two that his fame chiefly rests. The earlier
displa3's his qualities in the most favourable light, and has
been least injuriously affected by subsequent writings and
investigations. The Histoire des Fran^ais, as a careful
and accurate sketch on the great scale, has been entirely
superseded by that of M. Henri Martin, while it is not to
be mentioned, as a work of historical or literary genius, in
the same category with that of Michelet. Sainte-Beuve
has with benevolent sarcasm surnamed the author " the
Rollin of French History," and the praise and the blame
implied in the comparison are both perfectly well deserved.
In April 1819 Sismondi married an English lady. Miss
Allen, whose sister was the wife of Sir James Mackintosh,
and the marriage appears to have been a very happy one.
His later years were chiefly spent at Geneva, in the politics
of which city he took a great, though as time and changes
went on a more and mpre chagrined, interest.. Indeed, in
his later days he became a kind of reactionary. He died
at Geneva on June 25, 1842. Besides the works above
mentioned he had executed many others, his custom for.
a long period of years being never to work less than eight
hours a day. The chief of these are Nouveaux Principes
d'£conomie Politique (1819), an historical novel entitled
Julia Severa'ou I' An 492 (1822), Histoire de la Renaissance
de.la Liberie en Italie (1832), Histoire de la Chute de
I'Empire Romain (1835), Precis de I'Histoire des Franfais,
an abridgment of his own book (1839), 'with several
others, chiefly political pamphlets.
Sismondi's literary character tas been hinted at in the above
remarks on his French history. He was exceedingly laborious, for
the most part (though"not entirely) free from prejudice, and never
violent even when he "was prejudiced. He had (with much " sensi-
bility ") plenty of common sense, though not perhaps any extrar
ordinary amount of acuteness in estimating things uncommon, and
he was a little deficient in historical grasp and in the power of
taking large views cf complicated series of events. His style corre-
sponded to his thought, and (putting aside certain solecisms which"
French critics usually affect -to discover in Swiss writers) lacks
point, picturesqueness, and vigour. Of his moral character no one
has ever spoken except in terms of praise, and it appears (which is not
invariably the case) to have been as attractive as it was estimable.
His chief \yeakness seems to have been a tendency, frequently observ-
able in writers of very great industry, to rank his own productions
somewhat too much on a level with those of writers who, if less indus-
ti-ious, were infinitely more gifted. Thus he has somewhere naively
observed that " he should not object to signing" a certain proportion
of a certain book of Chateaubriand's. But this overvaluation of self
appears to have been merely naif, and not in the least arrogant.
Sismondi's journals andbiBcorrespotidence with Clianning, with the countess of
Albany, and others liave been published chiefly by Mile. Mongoiaer (Paris, 1863)
and M. de Saint- Ren^ Talllandier. The latter work serves as the chief text of two
admirable Lundis of Sainte-Beuve (September 1863), republished in the Nouveaux
liundis, vol. vL. ,
SISTAN, or Seistau (Sejistan), the ancient Sacastane
(Qakastkdna, "land of the Sacae") and the Nimrkz or
" meridies " of the Vendidad, is situated generally between
30° 0' and 31° 35' N. lat and 61° 0' and (including Rudbdr)
62° 40' E. long. Its extreme length is about 100 and its
breadth varies from 70 to over 100 miles,— but the exact
limits are vague, and the modern signification of the name
practically comprehends the peninsula formed by th? lower
Helmand and its embouchure on the one side and the
" HAmun " or " lake " on the other. When British arbitra-
tion was brought to bear upon the disputed claims of Persia
over this country in 1872, it was found necessary to sup-
pose two territories — one compact and concentrated, which
'was called " SistAn .Proper," the other detached and irre-
gular, called " Outer SistAn." Of each of these a brief
description will be given.
1. SistAn Proper is bounded on the north by the
" NAizAr," or reed-bed which^^ fringes the " HAmun " or
expanse ; west by the HAmiin itself, of which the hill
called " Kuh-i-KhwAjah " marks the central point ; south
by a line shutting in Sikuha and all villages and lands
watered by the main SistAn Canal ; and east by the old
bed of the Helmand, from a mile above the dam at Kohak
to the mouth. Kal'ah-i-nau and Rindan are among the
more northerly inhabited villages. The Kuh-i-KhwAjah is
a sufficient indication of the western side. Burj-i-'Alam
Khan should be included within the southern boundary as
well as Sikuha. KhwAjah Ahmad and JahAnabAd, villages
on the left bank, or west of the true bed of the Helmand,
denote the eastern Ifne. The whole area is estimated at
947 square miles. The fixed population may be roughly
stated at 35,000,— some 20,000 SistAnis and 15,000
settlers, — the greater part of whom are Parsiwans, or
rather, perhaps, a Persian-speaking people. To the above
numbers may be added 10,000
Baluch nomads. Taking the
aggregate at 45,000, and look-
ing • at the extent of country
comprehended, we find nearly
48 persons to the square mile
These figures are eight times in
excess of the proportional result
found for the whole jof Persia.
It should be explained that the
designation SistAn Proper is
not arbitrarily given.
The territory com-
prehended in it is
spoken of as SistAn
by the dwellers on
the right bank of the
Helmand, in contradistinction to their own lands. At the
samo time it could only be but a fractional part— as indeed
the whole country under consideration could only be — of
the SistAn of Persiaa history.
SistAn .Proper is an extensive tract of sana and clay
alluvium, generally flat, but irregular in detail. It has
hea;ps, but no hills ; bushes, but no trees, unless in(^eed
three or four tamarisks of aspiring height deserve the
name ; many old ruins and vestiges of comparative ' civi-
lization, but. few monuments or relics of antiquity. It is
well watered by rivers and canals, and its soil is of proved
fertility. Wheat or barley is perhaps the staple cultiva-
tion ; but pease, beans, oil-seeds, and cotton are also
grown. Among fruits, grapes and mulberries are rare,
but melons and water-melons, especially the latter, are
abundant. Grazing and fodder are not wanting, and
besides the reeds peculiar to SistAn there are two grasses
which inerit notice, — that called hannu, with which the bed
of the HAmiin abounds on the south, and the taller and
less salt Idrta on the higher ground.
2. Outer SistAn, the country on the right bank of tht
Helmand, and east of its embouchure in the HAmiin,
extends more than 100 miles in length, or frbm a point
between the Charboli and Khuspas rivers north to Rud-
bAr south. In breadth the district of Chakhansiir, measnrv
ing from the old bed of the Helmand, inclusive of Nad
Ali, to Eadah, may be estimated at some 30 miles. It
Map of Sistan.
S I S— S I s
10]
produces wheat and barley, melons, and perhaps a few
vegetables and oil seeds. Beyond the Chakhansur limits,
southward or up to the Helmand, there is probably no
cultivation save that obtained on the river bank, and
ordinarily illustrated by patches of wheat and barley with
melon beds. On the opposite side of the river, in addition
to the cultivated portions of the bank, there is a large
tract extending from above (i.e., south of) Kohak, or the
SistAn dam {band), to the gravelly soil below the mountain
ranges which separate Sistdn from Baluchistan and
Narmashir. The distance from north to south of this
plain may be computed at 40 miles, and from east to west
at 80 or 90 miles. Lands north of the NaizAr not belong-
ing to the Afgharf district of Lash Juwain may also be
included in Outer SistAn ; but it is unnecessary to make
any distinction of the kind for the tract marked "H4mun"
on the west, wbere it merges into the Persian frontier.
Bellew states there are 1200 houses in Chakhansur. This
can hardly apply to the fort in which the sardar lives,
and the comparatively few houses outside, bearing that
name, and noticed by Major Lovett on his visit in 1872.
Nor did there then appear to be any other centres of
population in the district, excepting perhaps Kadah on
the eastern limit. The inhabitants are Sistinis or Parsi-
wans, Baluch iioraads, and Afghans. Between the Kohak
band and RudbAr they are mainly Baluch. Most of the
less nomad tribesmeu are Sanjurdni and Toki, the sardars
jealously claiming the former appellation.
The most remarkable geographical feature of Sistan generally, in
the modern acceptation of the term, is the Hi'.mun, or expanse,
which stretches far and wide on the noith, west, and south, but
is for a great part of the year dry or a mere swamp. In the early
spring, at which period the present writer was in the locality, the
e.xistence of a lake could only be certified by pools or hollows of
water formed at the mouths of the principal feeders, such as the
Khash Riid on tlie north-east, the Farah Rud on the north-west,
uid the Helmand, where its old bed terminates at no great
distance from the Khash Riid. Bellew describes the aspect of that
portion of Sistan limited to the actual basin of the Helmand as
indicating the former exist£nce of a lake which covered with its
waters a considerable area. On the north this tract has been
raised to a higher level than the remainder by the deposit at the
mouths of rivers of the solid matter brought down. It is still,
however, from 200 to 500 feet below the level'of the desert cliffs
that bound it, and which at some former period formed the shores
of the lake ; and it is from 50 or 60 to 200 feet above the level of
the beds of the rivers now flowing into the existing Hamun. The
tract thus raised by depositions in the bed of tlie former lake,
writes the same authority, is now the inhabited district of Sistan,
and contains the Hamun, a great sedge-grown swamp, the last
relic of the lake itself. To the south of the Hamun and inhabited
tract of SistAn is the Zarah hollow. It extends for about 100
miles to the Sarhad Mountains. Called by the natives God-i-
Zarah, or the hollow of Zarah, it is described as a wide and
circular depression sloping gently up to the bounding hills and
desert cliffs. It receives the drainage of these in its central and
deepest hollow, which, except in seasons of drought, is more or
less marshy. It is connected along the western border of the area
with the existing Hcimun by the Sar-shila, a great drainage gully
tlirough which runs the superfluoHS flood of the Hamiin.
The water-supply of Sistan Is about as uncertain as that of Sind,
though the general inclination to one bank, the left, is more
marked in the Helmand than in the Indus. Therefore the
houndary lines given must be received with slight reservation.
It is easy to see that a good year of inundation extends the
borders of the so-called lake to within the Naizir ; and there are
well-defined beds of dry canals intersecting the country, which
prove the existence formerly of an extensive water-system no
longer prevailing. Tho main canal of Sistan, confounded by some
writers with tho parent river, bears tho waters of the Helmand
westward into the heart of the country. They are diverted by
means of a large band or dam, known indilTerently as tho " Amir's,
tho " Sistan," or the " Kohak " band. It is constructed of horizon-
tally laid tamarisk branches, earth, and perpendicular stakes, and
protected from damage by a fort on the ?eft and a tower on tho
right bank of the river. Although this diversion of the stream
may be an artificial development of a natural channel, and
undoubtedly dates from a. period long prior to recent Persian
occupation, it appears that the later arrangements hirvo been more
maturely and better organized than thoso carried on by the pre-
decessors of the amir of Kaian. The towns of Deshtak, CheUing,
I3urj-i-AIam Klian, Bahramabad, Kimmak, and others of less
note are actually on the banks of this main canaL Jloreover, it
is the indirect means of supplying water to almost every town and
village in Sistan Proper, feeding as it does a network of minor
canals, by which a system of profuse irrigation is put in force,
which, with an industrious and a contented population, should
be productive of most extensive grain cultivation. To consider
the main canal as the river itself is a theory which a brief inspec-
tion of the locality seems quite to disprove. On the one hand we
have a comparatively narrow passage abruptly tuining to the
westward, on the other a broad and well-defined river-bed pro-
longed in the old direction, into which tho waters would at all
times flow unrestrained bi.t for an artificial embankment. AVhat-
ever arguments, however, may be used on this head, the larger bed
is assumed to be the original Helmand for purposes of territorial
limitation.
Provisions in Sistdu are, as a rule, sufficient, though sheep and
oxen are somewhat poor. Bread is cheap and good, being pro-
curable to natives at less than a halfpenny the pound. Vegetables
are scarce, and rice is chiefly obtained from Herat. The inundated
lands abound with water-fowl. Partridges and sand-grouse are
occasionally seen. River fish are plentiful enough, but confined to
one species, the barbel.
The inhabitants of Sistan are mainly composed of Kaiyanis,
descendants of the ancient rulers of the land ; Sarbandis and
Shihrakis, tribes supposed to have consisted originally of
immigrants from western Persia ; and Baluchis of the Kharui and
Sanjurani (Toki) clans. Bellew separates the "Sistanis"; but it
is a question whether this term is not in a large measure applied
to fixed inhabitants of the country, whatever their descent and
nationality. For instance, an old Shahraki guide to the Sistan
mission of 1872 persisted in being a"Sistani"; and, if his defini-
tion be accepted, the outside element must be confined to Baluchis
and modern settlers only.
Hislonj. — The ancient Drangiana (Zaraya, Daraflka, "lake
land ") received the name of ' ' land of the Sacae " after this country
was permanently occupied by the "Scythians" or Sacse, who over-
ran Iran in 128 B.C. (see Persia, vol. xviii. pp. 594 sq.). It was
included in the Sasanian empire, and then in the empire of the
caliphs. About 860 A.D., wheu it had undergone many changes of
government under lieutenants of the Baghdad caliphs, or bold
adventurers acting on their own account, Ya'kub b. Laith made it
the seat of his power. In 901 it fell uuder the power of the
Simanids, and a century later into that of tho Ghaznavids. An
invasion of Jarfiatais and the irruption into its richer lands by
Timui' are aalient points in the history of Sistan prior to the
Safawid conquest (1508). Under this dynasty for more than two
centuries, or up to 1722, Sistan remained more or less a Persian
dependency. At the time of the Afghan invasion of Mir Mahnuid
(1722), Malik Muhammad Kaiyani was the resident ruler in Sistan,
and by league with the invader or other intrigue he secured for
himself that particular principality and a great part of Khurasan
al.so. He was slain by Nadir Kuli Khnn, the general of Shah
Tahmasp, who afterwards, as Nadir Shah, became possessor of
Sistan as part of his Persian dominions. Shortly after the death
of Nadir (1751) Sistiin passed, together with otlier provinces, into
the hands of Ahmad Shah Abdali, the first sovereign in a united
Afghanistan. On the death of Ahmad Shah in 1773 the country
became a recognized bone of contention, not so much between
Persians and Afghans as between Herat and Kandahar ; but
eventually the internal dissensions of Afghanistan gave Persia tho
desired opportunity ; and by a steady course of intrigue and
encroachment she managed to get within her grasp the better
lands on tho left bank of the lower Helmand and something on
tho right bank besides. When the British arbitrator appeared on
tho scene in tho beginning of 1872, though compelleil to admit
tJie shah's possession of what has been called " Sistan Proper," he
could in fairness insist on the evacuation of Nad Ali, Kala Fath,
and all places occupied on the right bank by Persian troops; and
furthermore he left to tho Afghans both sides of the river Helmand
from the dam of Kohak to its elbow west of Kudbar. For the
precise boundary see Persia, vol. xviii. p. 619.
SCO Eaittm Pertia, vol. 1.; Bellcw's Jitcord of Sistan Miuion; Journal of H,
Ocog. Society, vol. xllll. (1873). (F. J. O.)
SISTOVA, a town of Bulgaria, at the head of a district
of its own name (40,893 inhabitants in'1881), is situated
on the right bank of the Danube, about 40 miles above
Kustchuk, and has rather a picturesque appearance on tho
slopes of tho Kadbair and tho Chuka. On tho latter hill
thero stood till the fire of 1810 a mcdia;val fortress, and
previous to tho ITith century it contained a Latin church
of traditional celebrity. Tho lower town along the river
consists of modern houses, mostly erected since 1870, and
is the scene of busy commercial life, especially during the
102
S I S — S I T
grain-export season. The principal church, completed in
1867, is a large and costly building with an imposing
dome. Sistova was one of the first of the Bulgarian
towns to introduce the national language into its schools
(1833), some of which are now well-endowed and flourish-
ing. Jlore than half the inhabitants, who numbered
11,560 in 1881, are Bulgarians, the rest being Turks,
Walachians, and Gipsies.
Sistova is identified with the old Koman colony Kovm mentioned
by Ptolemy and others. The exact site appears to have been
Staklen, a chister of vineyards \vith remains of ancient buildings to
the west of the present town, which has gradually moved eastward
sinc« tlio 16th century, when it was reduced by the Turkish wars
to a miserable vilbge. ' It was at Sisfova that the peace of 1790
was signed, by which the Austrian-Turkish boundary was deter-
mined. The town was burned in 1810 by the Russian general
Saint Prie.'it ; but subsequent to 1820 it began to revive, and the
introduction of steam traffic on the lower IJanube (1835) restored
its prosperity in spite of the effects of the Russian war of 1828-29,
when the Walailiian town of Alexandria was founded by fugitives
from Sistova. In 1877 the Russians entered Bulgaria by passing
the river just below Sistova.
SISTRUJI, a kind of rattle used by the ancient Egyp-
tians in religious cecemonies, especially in the worship of
Isis. It consisted, of a frame through which passed four
rods ; attached to the frame was a handle. When shaken
the rods rattled and produced the sound. After the in-
troduction of Egyptian worships into Italy the Romans
became familiar with the sistrum. It is described by
Apuleius (Metam., xi. 4). An ancient sistrum formerly
existed in the library of Ste Genevieve at Paris. In paint-
ings found at Portici a priest of Isis and a woman are
represented rattling the sistrum. The instrument is said
to be still in use in Nubia and Abyssinia.
SISYPHUS, a famous character of Greek mythology,
was a son of jEolus and Enarete and brother of Cretheus,
Athamas, and Salmoneus. He built Ephyra (Corinth),
and married Jlerope, daughter of Atlas, by whom lie had
a son Glaucus. According to Pausanias (ii. 3, 11)
Sisyphus succeeded M^dea in the sovereignty of Corinth.
Having found the body of the drowned Melicertes lying
on the shore of the isthmus, Sisyphus buried him and
instituted in his honour the Isthmian games. From
Homer onwards Sisyphus was famed as the craftiest of
men. His name (formed by reduplication from the same
root as o-o<Jo'5) means the Wise, Wise One. When Death
came to fetch him, Sisyphus put him into fetters, so
that 'no one died till Ares came and freed Death, and
delivered Sisyphus into his custody. But Sisyphus was
not yet at the end of his resources. For before he died he
told his wife that when he was gone she was not to ofier
the usual sacrifice to the dead. So in the under world he
complained that his wife was neglecting her duty, ajid he
persuaded Hades to allow him to go back to the upper
world and espostulate with her. But when he got back
to Corinth he positively refused to return to Deadland ;
80 he lived to a good old age, and even then Hermes had
a tough job to carry him off. In the under world Sisyphus
was compelled to roll a big stone up a steep hill; but
before it reached the top of the hill the stone always
rolled down, and^ Sisyphus had to begin all over again.
The subject was a commonplace of ancient writers, and
was depicted by the painter Polygnotua on the Lesche at
Delphi.
The way in which Sisyphus cheated Death is a common
incident in folk-tales. Thus in a Venetian story the ingenious
Beppo ties up Death in a bag and keeps him there for eighteen
months ; there is general rejoicing ; nobody dies, and the doctors
are in high feather. In a Sicilian story an innkeeper corks up
Death in a bottle ; so nobody dies for years, and the long white
beards are a sight to see. In another Sicilian story a monk keeps
Death in his pouch ibr forty years. (See Crane, Popular Italian
Tales, Nos. 63, 64, 65, 66, with the translator's notes.) The
Uermtn ;^arallel is Gambling Hansel, who kept Death np a tree for
seven years, during which no one (lied (Grimm, Hmiscliold Tn1e»;
No. 82 ; ill his notes Grimm cites a number ©f German parallels).
The Norse parallel is the tale of the JIaster Smith (Asbjornscn
eg Jloe, Norske Folke-Eventyr, 21 ; Dasent, Poimlar Talcs from
Ihe Norse, p. 106). For a Lithuanian parallel, see Schleicher,
■ Litauische Mdhrchcn, Sprichworte, Jlaticl, und Licdcr, p. 108 sq.);
for Slavonic parallels, Krauss, Sagcn und Mdhrchcn dcr Sudslavcn,
ii., Nos. 125, 126. .
SITAPUE. a British district in Sit.^pur division or
commissionership of Oudh, under the jurisdiction of the
lieutenant-governorship of the North-Western Provinces
of India. It lies between 27° 7' and 27° 53' N. lat. and
between 80° 21' and 81° 26' E. long., and it is bounded
on the N. by Kheri district, on the E. by that of Bahraich,
from which it is separated by the Gogra river, and on the
S. and W. by Bara Banki, Lucknow, and Hardoi districts,
the Gumti river forming the boundary. SitApur district
is elliptical in shape ; its greatest length from south-ea.st
to north-west is 70 miles, and its extreme breadth from
north-east to south-west 55 miles; its area is 2251 square
miles. Being without hills or valleys, and devoid of
forests, SitApur presents the appearance of a vast plain
sloping imperceptibly from an elevation of 505 feet above
sea-level in the north-west to 400 feet in the south-east.
The country is, however, well wooded with numerous
groves, and well cultivated, except in those parts where
the soil is barren and cut up by ravines. It is inter-
sected by numerous streams, and contains many shallow
ponds and natural reservoirs, which overflow during the
rains, but become dry in the hot season. Except in the
eastern portion, which lies in the doabs or alluvial plains
between the KewAni and Chauka and the Gogra and Chauka
rivers, the soil is as a rule dry, but even this moist tract
is interspersed with patches of land covered with saline
efflorescence called " reh." The principal rivers are the
Gogra, which is navigable by boats of large tonnage through-
out the year, and the Chauka. Nylghau, many varieties
of deer, wild hog, wolf, jackal, and fox are common, but
none of the larger wild animals are found within the
district. The climate is considered healthy, and the
cantonments of Sit^pur are famous for the low mortality
of the British troops stationed there. The average annual
rainfall is about 33 inches. . The district contains no
railway, but it is well provided with good unmetalled
roads.
In 1881 the population was returned at 958,251 (505,986 nalcs
and 452,265 females) ; Hindus numbered 818,738, jlohammedan.i
138,733, and Christians 443. Sitapur contains but two towns
with more than 10,000 inhabitants, — namely, Khairabad, 14,217,
and Laharpur, 10,437. The administrative headquarters of the
district are at Sitapur town, which is prettily situated on the
banks of the Sarayan river, with good groves in all directions, and
with a population in 1881 of 6780. Of the total district area 1455
square miles are cultivated and 510 are cultivable. The principal
staple? are wheat, barley, joar, gram, bajra, and rice; besides these
a considerable quantity of sugar-cane is. raised, as also oil seeds,
cotton, and tobacco. The only manufactures of any note are tobacco
and tazias at Biswan, with a little cotton printing and weaving in
most of the towns. The history of Sitapur is closely associated
with that of the rest of Oudh. The district figured prominently
in the mutiny of 1857, when the native troops quartered in the
cantonments rose in mutiny and fired on their officers, many of
whom were killed, as were also several military and 'civil officer.'?,
with their families, in attempting to escape. Order being restored
in 1858, the Government offices were re-opened, and nothing lias
since occurred to disturb the peace of the district.
SITTINGBOURNE, an- ancient town of Kent, is
situated on a navigable creek of the Svi'ale, and on the
London, Chatham, and Dover Railway, at the junction for
Sheerness, 7 miles south from the latter town and 45
east-south-east of London. It consists principally of one
long street and the northern suburb of Milton, formerly
celebrated for its oysters, the fishery of which used to
employ a large number of the inhabitants. Brickmaking
is a Tery important industry, and there are large paper-
S 1
SIX
103
uiills. St Michael's church, in the Early English and later
stylos, underwent extensive restoration in 1873 at a cost
of nearly £3000. The principal other public buildings arc
the old town-hall, the corn exchange (erected 1859), and the
museum. Public gardens 10 acres in extent have Vecently
been laid out. The local government board was instituted
in 1878. The population of the urban sanitary district (area
lOOi acres) in 1871 was 6148 and in 1881 it was 7806.
Sittingbourne, or Sedyiigburne, received a fciant of a inavkot aiyl
two animal fairs by a charter of Queen Elizabeth. The style
"guardian and free tenants," applied to the corporation in this
charter; was subsciiuently changed to that of "mayor and jurats. "
See W A. Scott Robertson, Sininaboume and the Names of Landi and Bouses
hi or near U, Siltiiigl>oui'nc, ISTt).
SIUT, or AsYUT (Asioot), more correctly OsyiSt, a town
of Upper Egypt, and southern terminus of the railway on
the left bank of the Nile, by which it is 229 miles from
Biiliili: Dakrur. The population is about 25,000. See
Egypt, vol. vii. p. 775.
SIVA. See Bkahhaxis.m.
SIVAS, or SiwAS, a pashalic and capital of a pashalic of
great importance in Asia Jlinor. The town is situated on
the fight bank of the Kizil Irmak (Halys), in a plain of
some 16 to 20 miles in length and 4 to 6 iu breadth.
From the south the approach is by a good road among the
mountains, and the aspect from the heights is pleasing.
Dotted here and there with trees, some in large extended
clusters, the houses and citadel cover a considerable space
and appear much scattered. On the north a military
road has been constructed to facilitate communication with
the coast. SivAs is 4670 feet above the level of the
Black Sea, and should be a healthy residence for Euro-
peans. The population, estimated on the spot in 1864
at 10,000 houses, more than a fifth being Armenians,
is stated in Murray's Handbook of 1878 to consist of
5000 Turkish and 1200 Armenian families. There are
some respectable residences but not many buildings or
monuments of note ; and the streets are narrow and ill-
maintained. The bazaars are fairly stocked with goods,
British as well as of other' European nations.
Sivas is the ancient Schaslcia (not to be confounded with Sebaste
or Cabira on the Lycus, the modem Niksar), the capital of
Armenia II., and the seat of an archbishop. In 1021 it was ceded
by the emperor Basil to the Armenian king, Senekbarim. It
again became Greek in 1080, but soon after fell to the Seljiiks.
In the 13th century Marco Polo speaks of Scvaste as the place
" where the glorious Messer Saint Blaise suffered martyrdom. It
was, when ho wrote, in. the possession of the Turkmans of Kara-
mania, living under the government of the Seljuk princes. In the'
nth century we have the testimony of Ibn Batuta, who says (ii.
289) : — " It is one of the possessions of the king of Irak, and the
largest town owned by- him iu the country. His chiefs and his
collectors reside there. It is well-built, and has wide streets and
crowded markets." Colonel Goldsmid visited Sivas in July 1864,
aud was shown some fine monuments described as the mausolea of
the Seljuks, the inscriptions on which he found to date no earlier
than 670 of the Ilijra, though the actual tombs might bo traceable
to a former period.
SIXTHS I. (Xystus) figures in the lists accepted by
the Roman Church as having been bishop of Home from
about 119 to about 126. He is conjectured to have been
a presbyter and a martyr.
SIXTUS II. followed Stephanus I. as bishop of Rome
ia 257, and suffered martyrdom under Valerian in the
following year. He restored the relations with the African
and Eastern Churches which had been broken off byiis pre-
decessor on the question of heretical baptism. Dionysius
succeeded him.
SIXTUS HI., bishop of Rome from July 31, 432, to
August 18, 440, had Ccelestinus I. as his predecessor, aud
was succeeded by Leo I.
SIXTUS IV. (Francesco dcUa Rovere), pope from 1471
to 1484, was born 21st July 1414, near Savoua. The
statements respecting his parents' situation in lifo are
very conflicting. Iu consequence of a vow made by his
mother he entered the Franciscan order at an early age,
and speedily acquired a great reputation for eloquence and
learning. After filling several minor ofticcs he became
general of his order, and in 1467 was to his own surprise
made cardinal by Paul II., at the recommendation, it is
asserted, of Cardinal Bessarion. When, upon Paul's death
in 1471, the rigour of Bessarion's principles prevented
his profiting by the favourable sentiments of influential
cardinals, who, nevertheless, expected to bo recompensed
for their suflrages, Rovere seems to have been found more
accommodating. The liberality of his donations after his
election, at all events, rai.sed suspicion ; but the fritndsliip
of Bessarion has also been enumerated among the causes
of the sudden elevation of the most recent member of
the Sacred College. He was elected on 9th August 1471,
and immediately proceeded to lavish Paul's treasures —
partly in laudable preparations against the Turks ; partly
in embassies, receptions of foreign princes, public improve-
ments, and other expenses possibly imprudent, but at least
not indecorous ; partly, without any excuse, upon his
unworthy nephews. Count and Cardinal Riario. The
prodigalities of the latter surpassed all measure, and lie
compromised his uncle much more seriously by his com-
plicity in the conspiracy of the Pazzi, aiming at the
assassination of the Medici family. Sixtus was cognizant
of the plot, but had positively forbidden the shedding of
blood, which he must nevertheless have known to be in-
evitable. He deserves still more censure for entering inte
a fruitless and inglorious war 'with Florence, 'which ter-
minated in 1480, after having kept Italy for two years in
confusion. Scarcely was it over when he allowed himself
to be involved in yet more troublesome and discreditable
contests, — first inciting the Venetians to attack Fcrrara,
and then, after having been delivered by their general
Roberto Malatesta from a Neapolitan invasion, turning
round upon them and eventually assailing them on their
refusal to desist from the hostilities which he had himself
instigated. He relied on the co-operation of Lodovico
SfoTza, who speedily forsook him ; apd the scandal was
witnessed of the secular princes and cities of Italy agreeing
to a peace which the Father of Christendom did his best
to thwart, and vexation at which was believed to have
hastened his death. He died, at all events, a few days
afterwards, 13th August 1484, leaving an unfortunate-
reputation as the first pope who brought nepotism into
politics, and, not content with enriching his relatives by
gifts. and lucrative offices, made their aggrandizement the
principal object of his policy as a secular prince. His
private character was nevertheless estimable: ho was
pious, of blameless morals, hospitable and munificent to a
fault, and so exempt from avarice, says his secretary
Conti, that he could not endure the sight of money. His
faults were those of a monk who had no natural outlet
for strong affections except unworthy relatives, and who
had been called from a cloister to fill the most con-
spicuous position in the world. His secular policy was
capricious and spa.smodic ; he neither maintained the
peace of Italy like tis predecessor and successor nor
carried out a consistent and well-considered scheme of
conquest like Alexander VI. He was, notwithstanding,
aUvays firm in his resistance to the Turks, and showed
magnanimity by aiding his enemy the king of Naples
against the common foo of Christendom. The brilliant
side of his administration was his munificence as a founder
or restorer of useful institutions and a patron of letters
and art. Ho established and richly endowed the first
foundling ht^oital, built and repaired numerous churches,
constructed Iw Sixtine Chapel and tho Sixtine Bridge
commissioned paintings on tho largest scale, pensioned or
104
8 I X — S K A
refl-urded men of learning, and, above all, immortalized
Ijimself as the second founder of the Vatican library. It
has been said that the stones alone inscribed with his
name would serve to erect a considerable edifice. These
great works, however, were not accomplished without
grievous taxation and questionable methods of raiding
money ; and Sixtus's successor expressed the general con-
demnation of his government when he declared that he
for his part would imitate the example of Paul II. Sixtus
was succeeded by Innocent VIII. (k. g.)
SIXTUS V. (Felice Peretti), pope from 1585 to 1590,
was born 13th December 1521 at Grottamarina, in the
district of Fermo, of a family said to be of Dalmatian
extraction. His parents were undoubtedly in humble
circumstances, but the story of his having been a swine-
herd in his youth seems to be a mere legend. He entered
the Franciscan order at an early age, and obtained great
celebrity as a preacher. After having been successively
professor at Eimini and at Siena, he became inquisitor-
general in Venice (where his firmness in controversy with
the Venetian Government exposed him to personal danger),
theologian Dt the council of Trent, and ultimately vicar-
general of his order. In 1565 he accompanied the papal
legate to Spain, and in 1570 was created cardinal by
Pius v., and entrusted with the publication of a correct
edition of the works of St Ambrose, which appeared in
1579-1585. Finding himself out of favour with Pius's
successor, Gregory XIII., he withdrew to a villa which he
had purchased, and lived in strict retirement, affecting, it
is said, to be in a precarious state of health. According
to the usual story, which is probably at least exaggerated,
this dissimulation greatly contributed to his unexpected
elevation to the papacy on the next vacancy, 24th April
1585. If the electors had indeed anticipated a weak or
ephemeral pontificate, they were grievously disappointed.
Sixtus speedily proved himself one of the most vigorous
popes, both in body and mind, that Tiad ever occupied the
chair of St Peter. Within two years he issued seventy-
two bulls for the reform of religious orders alone. Ardent,
despotic, indefatigable, he did everything by himself,
rarely invited advice and still more rar'ely followed it, and
manifested in all his actions a capacious and highly original
genius, in most respects eminently practical, but swayed
in some things towards the visionary and fantastic by the
inevitable effects of a monastic training. His first great
aim was to purge the papal dominions of the robbers
who had overrun them under the weak administration of
his predecessor. This salutary undertaking was effectually
accomplished, not without many instances of tyranny
and cruelty which have left a stain upon his name ;
but security of life and property returned. Sistus's
financial management seemed on a superficial view equally
brilliant ; he had found the exchequer empty, and speedily
accumulated an immense treasure. But this end was
obtained partly by excessive taxation, partly by the sale
of offices which had ' never before been venal ; and the
withdrawal of such an amount of specie from circulation
impoverished the community. His intention was to
amass a fund for use in special emergencies, such as a
crusade or a hostile invasion, which never arose. Much,
nevertheless, was expended by Sixtus in the encourage-
ment of- agriculture and commerce, and in public works,
either of signal utility, like his supply of Eome with water,
or such at least as impressed the popular imagination with
his munificence, as the completion of the cupola of St
Peter's, the construction of six new streets, and the eleva-
tion of four Egyptian obelisks in various parts of Eome.
Though a scholar, Sixtus was no humanist, and did much
mischief to the monuments of antiquity, ruthlessly
destroying some, and disfiguring those which he repaired
by the addition of Christian attributes. In his ecclesias^
tical and foreign policy good sense contended with eccen«
tricity but usually obtained the upper hand. He thought
of attacking Turkey with the alliance of Poland and
Eussia, of subjugating Egypt by his own forces, of making
a descent into Syria and carrying oS the Holy Sepulchre.
But he never attempted to realize these projects, and his
conduct of the affairs which imperatively required his
attention evinced more moderation than could have been
expected. After having strongly sided with Spain and
the League, he allowed himself to be convinced by the
Venetian ambassador of the evil coiriequences of Spanish
preponderance in Italy, and showed a manifest disposition
to acknowledge Henry IV. as king of France, on condition
of his abjuration. "This led to violent altercations with
the Spanish ambassador, and the death of the pope on
27th August 1590 was attributed by many to poison,
though without sufficient ground. He was succeeded by
Urban VII. Sixtus V. left the reputation of a zealous
and austere pope, — with the pernicious qualities insepar-
able from such a character in his age, — of a stern and
terrible but just and magnanimous temporal magistrate,
of a great sovereign in an age of great sovereigns, of a
man always aiming at the highest things and whose great
faults were but the exaggeration of great virtues.
The best view of his character and government is that given by
Eanke. Leti's well-knowu biography is full of fables ; Tempesti is
too panegyrical ; and Lorentz is little more than a compiler from
the two. The most valuable part of Baron von Huebner's Sixle
Quint (Paris, 1870) is the rich appendix of documents. Sixtus's
note-books and drafts of letters iu the Chigian library, frequently
referred to by Tempesti and Ranke, were published by Cugnoni
in 1882. (R. G.)
SKATE. See Ray.
SKATING, as at present practised, may be defined as a
mode of progression (usually rapid) uport smooth ice, by the
aid of steel blades attached to the soles of the feet. It
probably originated in the far north of Europe, in Scandi-
navia and Germany, where it is still in common use. In
Eussia it has never been a national pastime, as no smooth
ice is formed in the rapidly running rivers. Even in St
Petersburg it is mainly engaged in by English and Germans.
The earliest skates appear to have been certain bones of
large animals, but wood was also used from an early
period.
In modern skating there are two totally distinct styles,
which require different skates differently attached to the
feet, and different extents and qualities of ice. The first,
the "running " or "fen" style, sim.ply consists in going
straight ahead at the highest possible speed. Its home is
on the fiords of Scandinavia, the fens of Lincolnshire,
and the large rivers and lakes of North America. ' In
Holland, Denmark, and North America it is the medium
for carrying a large winter market traffic. It first be-
came common in Englarid in 1662 after the return of the
Stuarts. The wooden part or stuck of a running skata
is from 8 to 12 inches long, according to the length of
the foot. The blade is made of the best steel, with an
average width of ^'W inch. The heel is at right angles
to the surface of the ice. The prow begins to rise off
the ice at the fore end of the stock, at a gradually in-
creasing angle, and projects 4 inches. The entire skate
is attached to . th~6 foot by an iron screw in the heel of
the stock which enters the skater's, boot heel and two
long straps which pass through slots in the stock and
fasten round the ankle and toes of the skater. The length
of the heel strap varies from 22 to 32 inches, and that Of
the toe strap from 15 to 23 inches. Formerly the bottoms
of the blades were fluted. A concavity is now effected by
grind' ig; and '.when in motion, the blade is rarely flat
on the.;-e, The curve should.be. slight, and the depth
S K E — S K E
105
no greater than will ensure a curve being made without
touching the ice. The feet are placed at right angles to
each other with the toes turned out and the body, bent
slightly forward. Each foot is then raised alternately and
set down slightly on. the inside edge. It immediately
acquires a forward motion, which is increased by pushing
with the other foot, that being at fight angles and having
no sliding motion. The feet must be kept perfectly level
when raised and set down, and the skate carried in the same
manner an inch above the ice when going forward. The
forward stroke is made on the outer edge, and the pressure
applied to the inner edge of the other foot. The arms are
swung across the chest from side to side, and opposite to
the direction of the striking leg in order to balance the
weight. The quickest method of stopping is to place the
feet parallel, dig the heels into the ice, and arch the back.
A longer but more graceful method is to turn the toes in-
wards, thus spreading the outside edges athwart the line
of going. The feet should never be looked at, as the
balance of the body is- thereby disturbed. The eye should
always be on a line with the horizon.
The fastest skating times recorded, from a standing start, and
with no rear wind, have all been made in the United States, at
New York, as follows :— 100 yards, lOf s. ; 200, 2l| s. ; 300, 3l| s. ;
■ 1 mile, 44is.; *, 1 m. 41| s. ; f, 2 m. 34Js.; 1, 3 m. 26| s. ; 2,
6 m. 56^ s.; 3, 10 ra. 33j s.; 4, 14 m. 10| s.; 5, 17 m. 45 s.; 6,
21 m. 33 s. ; 7, 2.5 m. 17| s. ; 8, 29 m. 9i s. ; 9, 32 m. 54i s. ; 10,
36 m. 37is.; 20, 1 h. 14 m. 7^ s.; 30, 2 h. 31 m. 12 s.; 40, 3 h.
21 m. 22 s. ; 50, 4 h. 13 m. 36 s. The best running high jump on
skates recorded is 3 ft. IJ in., and running long jump 15 it. 2 in.
The second style, termed "figure skating." is quite
modern and purely English in its origin. This may be
practised on any small pond, provided the ice is clear of
snow and perfectly smooth. The more numerous oppor-
tunities thus afforded make it the more popular style
in Great Britain, where the large streams seldom freeze.
Figure skating consists in cutting arcs, circles, figures,
letters, serpentines, and spirals, — either forwards pr back-
wards, slowly or rapidly, on one or both feet, singly or in
combination. The style can ultimately be analysed into
four kinds of strokes, all made on the edges of the blade—
the inside forward, the outside forward, the inside back-
ward, and the outside backward. The varietj> of evolu-
tions which can be developed from these four movements
is endless. The figure skate is made entirely of metal, is
strapless and fixed to the boots by clamis or like devices.
Unlike the running skate, it can be instantly put on or taken
ofE. Many kinds have been invented, but the " Acme," first
produced in Canada, is generally acknowledged the best.
The blade projects the merest trifle beyond the length of
the foot and is rounded off in an upward direction from
the ice at both toe and heel. The bottom is | inch wide,
and the best curve for grinding it is to that of a seven-
foot radius, equal throughout and not increased at either
end. In stopping, the end of one skate is placed at right
angles to the other.
Summer skating has been occasionally provided in
" glaciariums" by means of artificially produced ice.
The London Skating Club, founded in 1830, is the leading skating
society of Great Britain. Comprising but 170 members, including
20 ladies, and practising on exclusively private water in Kcgent's
Park, it countenances figure skating only and gives no encourage-
ment whatever to the spread or teaching of a national pastime.
The National Skating Association was Ibrmed in the year 1879,
and, on December 8, held the first race for the running champion-
ship at Thorney, Cambridgeshire. The objects of the association
are as follows : —
To promote, ascei-tain, and reward speed in skatinp, — by the establishment
and nianaeement of amateur and open skating championships of Kngland ; by
stimulating and supplementing local action in holding of skating matchcs;'by
establishing an order of merit for speed skaters, and awarding badges for the
same; by assisting in providing facilities for skatmg by the sliallow flooding of
land in each locality where local branches exist; and by collecting through cor-
responding membei's jnfoi-niation of the existence of ice on which skating is
practicable, and the supplying of such infonnation to its members; and to pro-
mote and encourage figure skating, by the establishment of standards at which
figure skrtters may aim, by bestowing badges of merit on those who attain these
standards, and by promoting and assisting in the formation of skating clubs. To
provide rules and regulations for the game of hotkey on the ice. Also to pro-
mote the establishment of international skating contests in various countries
under the direction of an international council
In the United States and Canada large and shallow artificial ponds
under cover, termed "rinks," are in winter frozen by filling them
with water. Each night the surface is covered with a layer of
water, which gives a fresh sheet of ice by morning. The covers
protect the rinks from snow, another great advantage.
As regards a substitute for ice and ice skating on wooden or
asphalt floors, the only invention that has ever been found even
partially successful is that of James L. Plimpton of New York in
1869. The implements may be described as skates with two
parallel wheels at the toe and heel, so hung that the wheel axles
are moved out of parallel by the transverse rocking of the skater's
foot, the wheels setting squarely on the surface whether the skater
be upright or canted. The fatigue caused by these "roller skijtes"
is quadruple that of ordinary ice skating.
See The Field, December 23, 18S2, January 6 and Febmary 3, 1883 ; N. and G. A.
Goodman, Handbook of Fen SkatinQ, lyS2 ; G. Anderson, Art of Skating, 4th ed.,
1880 ; II. C. Vendervell and T, M. Witham, Figure Skating, 3d ed., 18S0j iind M.
F. Jt. and S. F. M. Williams's Combined Figure Skating, 1883.
SKELETON
rjlIIE word "skeleton," meaning in Greek a mummy, is
I popularly taken to depote that assemblage of bones
and cartilages which forms the internal support of the body
of man and of the animals more or less nearly resembling
him. A slight acquaintance with the structure of these
animals, however, seqms to make it evident that a wider sig-
nification must be given to the term, since parts which in
man and many of his animal allies are bony or cartilaginous
may be only membranous in other such animals ; and, con-
versely, parts sometimes quite external, which are merely
membranous in man and many animals, may in others
assume the structure of horn or bone or may contain
bones or cartilages. The word skeleton may indeed be
taken to denote both a more or less firm and com-
plete external protection to a living body, and also a
more or less firm and complete internal support to such
body.
In this very wide sense even many vegetal structures may
be said to possess a skeleton. For all plants which can sus-
tain themselves in an upgrowth from the ground obviously
both require and possess solid structures — various groups
and varieties of woody fibres — to support such an upgrowth.
Organs also, such as leaves, whitJj need to bo maintained
in the form of a thin flat expanse, require and possess
•bundles of fibres (vulgarly called veins) which are even
popularly said to constitute the skeleton of the leaf.
Many plants form such skeletal structures largely of silex,
as do the grasses and the . horsetails ^quisetum), and
others invest themselves to a greater or less degree with
carbonate of lime, as do some Alffa, such as Corallina
and Meloheda, while the Desniidix clothe themselves with
a horny coat. Ordinarily, however, the word skeleton is
only used to denote certain animal. structures, .{ind mainly
such structures as form the skeleton of man and of
creatures so nearly allied to him as to constitute, together
with him, that primary division of animals known as
backboned animals or Yertehrata.
It is to a concise description of the skeleton as it exists
in Vertebrates generally that this article is devoted. For
the details of the Jiuman skeleton the reader is referred to
the article Anatomy, In order, howpver, that its condi-
tion in Vertebrate animals may be better understood, it will
be well briefly to point out some of the more important
varieties of condition presented by the protecting or sujv
porting parts of the body of the lower, or Invertebrate,
animals.
lOG
SKELETON
THE SKELETON OF IN\'ERTEBRAT-\.
A great and fundamental distinction exists, however, between
those lowly organisms known as Prolozoa or Hypotoa — which are
generally reckoned as animals — on tlie one hand and all the higher
forms, both Vertebrate and Invertebrate, on the other. It is a dis-
tinction which renders it difficult to regard any skeletal structures of
the Hypozoa as answering to, in the sense of being tlie homologues '
oif, any o£ the skeletal structurcsof higher animals. This great funda-
mental distinction consists in the fact that the bodies of all tlie
higher animals are made up of distinct "tissues," whicli are derived
from three dilTerent layers of cells, of "which the embryos of all-
of them are for a time composed, whereas the bodies of the Uypozoa
either consist of but a single cell or else of a smaller or larger
number of cells more or less loosely aggregated and not forming
any distinct tissue. It follows of course that their reproduction
does not take place by means of embryos formed of cellular
layers.
Nevertheless the Hypozoa or Protozoa may exhibit very distinct
protective structures. Thus the outermost layer of the substance
of AuAmaha, called its ectosarc, is of a firmer consistency than its
interior, and it may in allied forms take on a chitinous character
or become quite hard through the deposition within it of calcareous
salts (as iu the sometimes singularly complex shells of the Fora-
'piini/era) or form symmetrical cases of silica.
In the Radiolaria, the skeleton of the Protozoa attains its maxi-
mum of beauty and complexity. It consists of spicules which
are generally siliceous, but may consist of a peculiar firm organic
substance termed "acanthin." The spicules arrange themselves in
an extraordinarily symmetrical manner, generally radiating from
the central portion of the organism and being connected with one
or more series of encircling spicules which may constitute a scries
of concentric spheres.
Among the Infusoria we also find examples of a hardening of
the external cuticle, as in Tintiniis lagcnula and in some other
forms.
When we pass to that vast group of animals— the Metazoa —
which includes all but the Protozoa (and all those therefore the
bodies of which are formed of tissues derived from the three
primitive layers), a distil ction again requires to be drawn between
the Sponges (Porifera), which constitute its lowest group, and all
higher forms. The three primitive or germinal layers of the Metazoa
are tended respectively — (1) the epiblast, (2) the mesoblast, and (3)
the hypoblast. Of these three layers the epiblast and the hypoblast
are to be regarded as primary.^ The epiblast is essentially the
primitive integument, and its cells give rise to the epidermis and
cuticle and to the organs of sense. The hypoblast is essentially the
digestive layer, and gives rise to the epithelium lining the aliment-
ary canal. The mesoblast seems to originate from one or both of
the two preceding layers, and gives rise to the general substance of
the body — including that part of the skin which is beneath the epi-
dermis, the muscles, and the blood-vessels. It may divide into two
layers, whereof the mote external is distinguished as "somatic,"
while the more internal is called " splanchnic. " Such is the general
condition of the three germinal layers in the' ilctazoa. In the
Sponges, however, it seems probable ■• that the germinal layers have
a different nature — the epiblast and mesoblast being respectively
the digestive and sensory layers.
The skeletal structures of the Sponges have the form of spicules,
which may vary greatly in different genera as to their form, while
they may be siliceous, calcareous,_or horny. Sometimes they con-
stitute structures of singular beauty. They appear to be formed iu
or on the cells of the mesoblast, and it does not seem that any
skeletal structures arise in the epiblast or hypoblast of the Porifera.
Should such, however, be hereafter found,, then it must be borne
in mind that their homologies with analogous skeletal structures
of other organisms must depend- on the final decision of the
question of the e.xact relations which may exist between such
germinal layers in Sponges and the epiblast and hypoblast of
higher Metazoa.
In the great group of the Cailentera, the skeleton may he either
cpiblastic or mesoblastic in nature. Thus in the Hydrozoa — where
it mostly has the form of a horny investment, but may be (as in
the Millepores) calcareous— it is epiblastic. In the ActiKOzoa—
which includes' the true coral animals— it is generally mesoblastic,
although it is formed from the epiblast in the Gorgmiw, Isidinse,
and PennaluUdas.
' "Homologous parts," or "homologues," are parts of an organism which cor-
respond in ^ela^ive position, that is, in their relation to suirouiiding sti-uctuies,'
whether or not they serve tho same ends. They thus differ from "analogous
pans," -whiclj are parts performing similar functions whetlier or not they agree
as to their relations of position to surrounding stiuctures. Thus, e.g., the nail of
« man's middle toe and the hind hoof of a horse are " homologous parts," but the
hoot, as tlie support of tlie body and agent in locomotion, is analogous to the
whole foot of a man.
* Certain Coelenterate arinmls consist but of two layers.
' See F. Balfour's Comparatiie Enitr^ologi/^ vol. I. p. 108.
* Op. cit., vol. i. p. 122, and vol. il: v. 285.
In his the skeleton curiously consists of a sciies of segments
which are alternately horny and calcareous.
In the Echinodermata we generally have, notably in the Sea-
Urchin (Echiniis), a wonderfully complex skeleton, which is bo
near the outer surface that at the first glance it seems ncccssarilj
a most external form of skeleton. Nevertheless the plates wliich
compose it are mesoblastic iu nature and are iiidependent of the
epidermis.
The two valves forming the shell of the Lamp-shells {Branchiono-
poda), and the very difl'ercnt two valves which constitute the shells
of creatuies of the Oyster class (LamellibraTichiata), as well as the
single shells of the Snail and Whelk class {Gasteropoda}, are all
epiblastic in nature, and are calciflcations of the outer part of the
epidermis. The same is the origin of the apparently internal shell
of the Slug, which is at first external in the embryo and subsequently
becomes enclosed.
Similar is the nature of both the internal and external shells of
the Squids, Cuttle-fishes, and Nautili, i.e., of the class Cephalo-
poda. In the last-named class, as iu sonie Gastcropods, there is a
cartilaginous structure inside the head, which structure supports
and partly protects the brain. It is unlike any skeletal part yet
mentioned save in its mode of origin, which, like the skeleton of
some of the Actinozoa, is mesoblastic.
Lastly may be mentioned the hard protecting external coat of
insects and animals of the Crab and Lobster class — in short, the
external skeleton of that primai'y division of animals which is called
Arthropoda. This is again epiblastic, and a hardening of a cuticle
on the outer surface of the epidermis— a hardening effected gene-
rally by chitinization (the deposition in it of a substance termed
"chitin"), or, as in many Crustacea and some Myriapoda, by
calcification.
GENERAL SK'ELETAL CONDITIONS.
Having thus briefly glanced at the leading skeletal
structures of a number of groups of lower organisms, we
may make the following generalization, which will be of
use to us in helping us to understand Low the skeletal
parts of backboned animals stand related to the skeletal
parts of animals lower in the scale :—
(1) Skeletal structures may conceivably arise in parts
which are epiblastic, or mesoblastic, or Lypoblastic.
(2) Skeletal structures belonging to any one of those
fhree categories may be further divisible into two
subordinate categories according as they belong to
a superficial or a deep part of the layer to which
they appertain.
(3) Skeletal structures may be siliceous, chitinous, cal-
careous, cartilaginous, or horuy.
(4) la certain animals the mesoblast subdivides into
two layers, one somatic and the other splanchnic
Obviously, then, there may be skeletal parts
corresponding to either of these last-named
layers, and conceivably to a deeper or more
Buperiicial portion of either of them.
THE SKELETON OF VERTEBRATA.
The "skeleton of the Fertebrata — that is, of the five
classes of animals named Pisces, Amphibia, Beptilia, Aves,
and Mammalia — may in the first place be most conveniently
considered as consisting of two parts — a dermal skeleton,
or exosJcdeton, and an internal framework, or endoskcleton.
The latter, which is generally much the more considerably
is mesoblastic, and the muscles are external to it.
External Skeleton of Vertebrata.
This division of, the skeleton is itself again made up of
two parts-. The more external of these is the epidermis
and is of epiblastic origin, and dense epidermal structures
may arise towards its inner or its oiiter surface. The
more internal constituent of the exoskeleton is the dermis
and dense structures formed in it, and these are from the
outer portion of the mesoblast.
Epidermal hard structures formed towards either sur-
face of the epidermis may become intimately united with
subjacent dermal hard structures, and then again, as we
shall see, with parts of the true endoskeleton.
SKELETON
107
Ally bard struptures formed in the walls of tlie
alimentary canal — the lining of which is continuous at
either end witli the external skin — are to be reckoned as
fundamentally exoskeletal. In the process of development
the epiblast becomes. inflected more or less into either
extremity of the alimentary tube, but the intermediate
portion, together of course with any hard structures de-
veloped in it, is of hypoblastic origin.
In the great majority of Vertebrate animals the two
layers of the skin, the epidermis and the dermis are, as in
man, soft, though locally provided with certain denser
appendages, such as epidermal and dermal scales, hairs,
nails, scutes, and teeth.
The soft, general exbskeleton or skin invests the body
of JIan pretty closely, though slightly projecting folds of
it extend between the roots of the fingers and toes. In
some abnormal cases these folds extend so far and bind the
digits together so much that the thus malformed person is
said to bo " web-fingered " or " web-toed." Such a condition
is found normally in many animals, as notably in Ducks
and Gccsc, and such parts form a large portion of the
" wing " of the Bat.
Other extensions of the skin of the body are note-
worthy. Thus in the " Flying " Squirrels and Opossums,
and the curious Rodent named Anomalurus, the skin of the
sides, between the arms and the legs, is much expanded,
serving for a parachute. There may be a skin parachute
supported by long free movable ribs, such as we shall see
exist in the little Lizards called " Flying Dragons." There
may be a very remarkable extensive skin round the neck,
as ill the Frilled Lizard, and folds of skin may hang freely,
as in the " dewlap " of Cattle, or may be formed here and
there as in the Ehinoceros, the skin of which animal is so
thick as to necessitate the existence of such folds to allow
free movements to the body and limbs. Long filamentary
processes may be formed along the back, as in the Iguana
and various other Lizards.
In the Seals a fold of skin connects together the hind
legs and the tail, and also in our common Bats, which have
in addition their very elongated webbed fingerf connected
with the sides of the body and legs by another great fold
of skin which, with those between the fingers, forms the
entire bat's "wing."
The integument may be very distensible, as in those
Fishes {e.j., Diodon) which distend themselves with air and
then float belly upwards.
The epidermis oLmany Vertebrates, and of Man, is shed
in minute fragments, constantly removed by friction and
ablution, and constantly replaced ; only under abnormal
conditions and after certain diseases does it come away in
large and continuous patches.- In some other Vertebrates,
as notably in Snakes, the entire epidermal investment of the
body, even that of the eyes, is cast off entire as one whole.
The epidermis never has its superficial layer connected
with bone, but it often becomes thickened and horny, as
we see in the sole of the foot, or the labourer's hand, and in
those abnormal thickenings called "corns." Ccrtaisi local
thickenings which arc not abnormal may exist in animals ;
such are the callosities on the inner side of the legs of the
Horse, on the breast of the Camel, and on the nates of the
lower Old-World Apes.
Of the appendages of the epidermis the most simplo are icalca,
such ns wo find on the legs of uirds and the bodies of Serpents and
Bcptilcs generally.
A scale — a true scnlc, snch as those of Snakes ami Lizards —
consists of papilUo of tho dermis invested by tlio cpidennis, tlio
whole being covered by a cornification of the external part of tlio
epidermis. Scales may be very diverse in sliapc, prominence, and
Tolativo size, and may form very largo plates. The so-called
scales of Fishes are of deeper origin and are a form of scutes.
A hair differs from a scale in that, instead of being an epidermic
investment of a dermal projection outwards, it originates by an
epidermal projection inwards into the subjacent dermis. A small
papilla of the dermis, however, soon projects npwards, in turn,
into the descending epidermal process, and then cornitica".ion sets
in (at tirst in the immediate vicinity of the dermal papilla) in toa
cells around the axis of the epidermal descending projection, and
this hardened portion soon projects beyond the surface of the body,
while the part of the epidermis about its deepest part becomes
modified into its so-called "root."
A nail or cluto arises as a cornification of the epidermis (but
not of its deepest layer) lying upon numerous very vascular ridges
(or transversely elongated papilla) of tho dermis, forming tlie
primitive bed of the nail, and enclosed in a deep fold of the integu-
ment. One end of the structure becomes free and projecting
superficially, while the opposite region grows by epiderraaladditions
from beneath and at its attached extremity.
Kf<:(ithcr is more nearly related to a scale than it is to a hair.
It consists at first of an upwardly-projecting dermal papilla invested
with epidermis, and it is only at a Inter stage that its base sinks
into a sack or "leather follicle." The outermost layer of epi-
dermis becomes converted into a horny sheath, which is thrown oif
when the leather is completed. The nxdll is formed by coniificatiou
of the deepest and more superficial layer of epidermis investing the
base of the dermal and vascular papilla, and is open at both ends,'
The vascular papilla it encloses shrinks up when the feather is
fully formed. Tlje vane of the feather is fonned from the moro
apical ]iortion of the papilla, and ils central part, or shnft, is con-
tinuous with the quill, while ridge-like thickenings of eiiidermts
diverging from either siile of this central part constitute the barbs
of the vane, from each of which yet smaller processes or bnrbulcs
proceed.
A smie is a hardening of the outermost portion of the dennis,
with an investment from the deepest layer of the epidermis. Such
are the so-called scales of ordinary Fishes, which may be represented
by the bony plates and processes called placoid scales — so common
in tho groups of Sharks and Rays. In these latter structures
dermal papilte appear and calcify, forming a dc'nse structure with-
out corpuscles, called dentine, beneath which may be a corpusculatcd
structure of true bone. The calcifying papilla receive an invest-
ment of still denser calcareous tissue, called enamel, from the
deepest layer of the epidermis. These plagoid structures often
come to project outwards on the surface of tho body as long spines
or as shoiter tooth-like processes, or they may protect the surface
of the body as flat plates. Often the dentine more or less
entirely atrophies, so that the structure comes to be formed almost
entirely of true bone or of that peculiar calcified tissue of which
the scales of ordinary Fishes (such, e.g., as tho Perch and Carp)
are composed.
A tooth is a structure closely related to a scute. It differs from
the latter just as a hair ditiers from a scale — namely, by owing its
origin to an ingrowth of the epidermis instead of merely to a-
primitive outgrowth of the dermis.
The so-called teeth of tho Lamprey are not true teeth, but are
merely horny epidermal structures essentially similar to scales.
In the origin of a true tooth a process of the epiblastic layer of
the mouth — the buccal epithelium — grows into the subjacent dermis,
and, assuming a cup-like form (with the concavity of the cup turned
away from tho epithelial surface of the mouth), a dermal papilla
rises into tho cup. The apex of this papilla then superficially
calcifies into dentine, and becomes invested with a layer of enamel
formed from tho immediately adjacent surface of the epiJcrn)ic
cup or "enamel organ." An investment of connective tissue called
the dental capsule becomes formed round the whole. The dentine
then increases, a remnant of tho papilla remaining as the "pulp."
Tho young tooth gradually approaches the buccal surface, and tho
base of tho papilla becomes lormed into tho root or fang of the
tooth. The enamel organ does not descend so far, but only invests
the crown of tho tooth. The inner layer of the capsule, however,
investing the fang gives rise to a third dental tissue known as tho
cement. ' A bud may or may not bo given off from tho developing
tooth to servo as its future successor.
Thus teeth are normally both epiblastic and mesoblastio stmc-
tures, but in certain Fishes they line parts of tho throat (tho
branchial arches), tho superficial membrane of which is derived
from the hypoblast, and such may of course bo considered as
hypoblastic skeletal elements, and, thus considered, must b«
reckoned as constituting a separate category of teeth.
Such being tho various kinds of dense structures which
enter into the composition of the Vertebrate exoskelcton,
each kind may be developed to a greater or less extent ia
different groups of Vertebrate animals.
Exemplificatiom of Epidermal Skdelal Parts.
Scales entirely clothe the bodies of most Lizards and Snnke.s and
tho le^s of Hirds. In Tortoises and Turtles they take the form of
large plates, which iu one species oi-o known as tortoiso-shcll. The
108
SKELETON
shape and size of scales are made great use cf as distinctive
characters for classification. See Reptiles. The scales of a Serpent
ore held together by their epiderniic investment in such a way
that it and they are cast off as one whole each time the animal
effects that process knawn as changing its skin. In the Kattle-
snakes curiously modified thickenings of epidermis surrounding
the end of the tail are not cast off but continue partially adherent ;
as growth proceeds and successive castings of the skin take place,
these ring-like thickenings become numerous, and so knock one
against the other, when the end of the tail is vibrated, as to pro-
duce a singular sound — the so-called rattling of the system of lings
or "rattle."
Hairs form the characteristic clothing of the class Mammalia,
though certain Mammals, such as Whales and Porpoises in their
adult condition, are naked. Man is quite exceptional iu havin" the
ventral surface of the body more hairy than its dorsum. Long
hair on the head, and whiskers and beard, are variable human
characters, also possessed by some Apes ; and many animals — as
the Lion, the Horse, the Aardvark, &c. — have long hair in one or
other region of the body. Some hairs may be especially thickened
and serve as feelers, as in the "vibrissa" or "whiskers" of the
Cat tribe. But the maximum of development is shown iu such
creatures as the Hedgehog and the Porcupine, where hairs become
dense and solid spines.
Nails do not exist in the class of Fishes and rarely in that of
Batrachians. They first make their appearance in the most simple
form — that is, in the form of slight thickenings of the epidermis—
at the ends of the digits in certain Toads and of one kind of Eft.
A nail is at its maximum of development when it quite surrounds
and encloses the last or end bone of the digit which bears it.
Such nails exist in Horses, Oxen, &c. , and are called hoofs. A
nail when produced into a sharp point is called a claw, — as in
the familiar case of the Cat, and also in Birds. Nails may, how-
ever, be much reduced in size and not nearly extend to the end of
the digits which support them, as in the Sea Bears. They may
be altogether wanting, even in Mammals, as in the Porpoise, or
attain a prodigious relative size, so that the body can be suspended
by them in progression, as in the Sloth.
Nail-like structures may be developed from the side of the hand,
as in certain Birds (e.g., Palamedea), which are said to be "spur-
winged," and in a Mammal iftmithorhynchus) a hollow horny spur
grows upon each ankle.
In the Rhinoceros we meet with a horn, or two horns, which
grow up from the dorsum of the muzzle like a great blunt nail,
long dermal papillje extending into it and answering to the dermal
'ridges beneath a true nail. In Owen's Chameleon no less than
three long horns are developed — one from the nose and a sym-
metrical Doir from the front of the head.
Other 'Doins which do possess bony cores are developed from the
head in pairs on the so-called hollow-horned Kuniinants, i.e., the
Oxen, Antelopes, Goats, and Sheep ; and only in one anomalous
form, the Prongbok [Anlilocapra), are these horny structures shed
at intervals ; in the rest they persist throughout life. Normally
there is never more than one pair amidst existing Ruminants, with
the exception of the Four-horned Antelope, which has two pairs.
Such horns may be straight or curved or spirally twisted, but they
are never branched, with the single exception of the Prongbok.
Sharp-edged, overlapping, horny plates (each of which is com-
parable with a nail) may be developed beneath the proximal part
of the tail, as in the curious Rodent Anomalurvs. Such plates
may clothe the entire body, head, limbs, and tail, as in the scaly
Manis or Pangolin.
The epidermis and epithelium which respectively line the out-
side and inside of the jaws may both be converted into horn,
forming a small beak which may be composed of a number of
close-set processes and may be temporary, as in the Tadpole, or
permanent, as in the Siren. Larger and denser structures of a
similar kind form the beak of Birds and of the Turtle and of that
most exceptional Mammal, the Ornithorhynchus.
The epithelium within the mouth m"ay be locally cornified,
forming horny teeth which have, as before mentioned, rather the
nature of scales — as in the suctorial mouth of the Lamprey.
In certain Beasts, as the Cow and the Sheep, the front
edentulous part of the upper jaw is invested by a horny epithelial
pad against which the teeth of the front of the lower jaw bite. A
much more developed structure is met with in the Dugong. The
front of both jaws is furnished with a dense horny plate formed like
the horn of the Rhinoceros, though of course widely different in
shape. But the maximum development of this kind of structure
is found in the Whalebone Whales. The upper jaw in these is
furnished with very numerous horny plates, termed baleen, which
hang down from the palate along each side of the mouth. They
thus form two longitudinal series, each plate of which is placed
transversely to the long axis of the body, and all are very close
together. The outer edge of each plate is entire, but its inner edge
Rives forth numerous hair-like processes. These are some of the
constituent fibres o! '.he horny plates which thus, as it were, fray
out and lino the sides of the buccal cavity with a network of
countless fibres formed by the inner edges of the two series of
plates. This network acts as a sort of sieve, allowing water to
escape between the plates but retaining in the mouth the small
creatures on which the whale feeds.
Cornifications of the tongue may exist. Thus in some Birds,
as in Woodpeckers, the structure of its apical portion becomes so
dense that it serves as a dart or spear. Its surface may be more or
less cornified in Beasts. Thus it may be furnished all round with
backwardly-pointing spines, as in the Lesser Anteater(2'a«!a)i(iiMj).
There may be a large horny papilla on each side of it, as in the
Manatee or Ornithorhynchus, or there may be honiy plates on the
tongue, as in the Java Porcupine.
Horny sti-uctures.also exist which cannot be considered as cither
epiblastic or mcsoblastic, but must be hypoblastic in origin. Such
are the horny linings of the stomachs or gizzards of Birds, and
the similar lining of the stomach of the Great Anteater, Myrme-
copliaga jubata.
Feathers are the universal and peculiar cutaneous appendages of
Birds, and generally differ much in size in different parts of the
body, long and strong feathers constituting the most conspicuous
pan of the wings and so-called "tails" of Birds. Feathera are
implanted on the body neither in au irregular nor in a uniform
manner, but are aggregated together in different modes iu different
groups of Birds— each definite patch of implanted feathers being
called a feather tract. The arrangement of these tracts in a bird
is called its " pterylosis," and serves amongst other character's to
distinguish different groups of Birds one from another.
Exemplifications of Dermal Skeletal Parts.
Scutes. — True dermal ossifications are met with in some kinds of
Mammals. Thus the Armadillos possess a very complete external
dermal skeleton formed of small many-sided bony scutes, the
margins of which are adjusted together, and which are differently
aggregated — into transverse bands or into larger inflexible masses
— m different species. In the extinct Glyptodon, the body was
invested, from the neck to the root of the tail, with one such solid
case.
la the Armadillos a homy epidermal skeleton is so adjusted to
the bony case that the former is divisible into small scales corre-
sponding with the several scutes. Amongst Reptiles, we find iu
the Tortoises and Turtles {e.g., Emys, Tesludo) a solid exoskeleton,
the dorsal part of which is called the "carapace," while the ventral
portion is named the "plastron." The former consists of a median
series of scutes, to each side of which is annexed a series cf lateral
scutes which are more elongated transversely to the long axis of
the animal's body, and these three series are intimately xmited
with subjacent portions of the internal skeleton. The carapace
is completed by a series of smaller scutes, which surrouud it and
are therefore called " marginal " scutes. The plastrtju consists of
eight pairs of scutes and one azygous scute. In the Box-Tortoises
the ends of this plastron are movable, and (the head and limbs of
the animal being drawn in within the shell) can be applied to the
ends of the carapace, so that all the soft parts can be completely
enclosed within th6 dense exoskeleton. As in the Armadillos, the
bony scutes are covered" by epidermal scales, some of which have
been already referred to as constituting "tortoise shell." Unlike
the Armadillos, however, the segments of the epidermal and dennal
skeletons do not correspond. The dorsal scales are much larger
and less numerous than are the scutes, but, while the scutes of the
plastron are but nine in number, it has twelve horny plates or
large scales.
Amongst the Amphibia certain Frogs {e.g., Ephippifcr and
Ceratophrys) develop dorsal osseous scutes, and these, as in the
Tortoises, are more or less imited with parts of the subjacent
internal skeleton.
A solid skeleton of juxtaposed osseous scutes may exist in Fishes,
as in the Bony Pike Lepidoslcus, where the scutes are enamelled
and united by a peg-and-socket articulation. Folypterus also has
an investment of bony scutes, and in the extinct fish Pterichthys
they were developed into large plates on both the dorsal and
ventral surfaces of the body. The Sharks and Rays may have
their scutes thickly distributed over the surface of the body, but
quite small. A skin so furnished is called "shagreen." They
may also be larger and fewer, and placed far apart, ^with elegant
patterns on their exposed surfaces; or they may take the form of
strong defensive spines. In the Sturgeon the scutes are arranged
in rows along the body, separated from each other by softer portions
of integument.
In the ordinary bony Fishes, or Teleostd, the scutes (commonly
but erroneously called " scales ") are differently calcified from the
scutes of Sharks, and may have their free ' projecting margin
smooth, when they are described as cycloid, or in toothed-liko
processes, when they are termed ctenoid; or they may be inter-
mediate between these two types of form. The Teleostean scntes
are generally separate, but they may coalesce to form a connected
SKELETON
,109
•solid investment, as in Oslracion and Hie Seahorses (iop7Ki5ra)tc/tu'), .
or develop strong projecting spines, as in Diodon.
Fishes liave two other very important exoskeletal structures,
which may be bony or cartilaginous. One set of these structures
consists of filamentary processes, which may be either horny or
calcareous, and which support the sUin of the fms, whether those
of the back, belly, and tail, or those of the limbs ; such structures
are termed " fin-rays." The other set consists of bony or cartilagin-
ous hard parts; which serve lo support the fin-rays, which therefore
lie more deeply, or at least are less projecting, and are commonly
termed " interspinous bones or cartilages," but which may be con-
veniently distinguished as radials ; they are very important
elements of the fins of Elasmobranchs.
Certain Siluroid fishes exhibit in the adjustment of portions of
their dermal exoskeleton an altogether peculiar -mode of articula-
tion, called a shackle joint. This is in the form of a dermal scute
articulated with a superposed spine. The scute has an osseous ring.
ou its dorsal surface, and througli this passes another osseous ring
which forms part of the base of the superimposed spine.
In connexion with dermal scutes arid spines may be mentioned
those familiar yet exceptional structures, the bony horns of Ungu-
lates. In the O.^Lcn, Goats, and their allies horns exist on the
head as bony cores, persisting throughout life, and supporting those
"hollow horns" before noticed amongst the epidermal orepiblastic
parts of the exoskeleton. As is the case with the scutes of Chelo-
nians, these bony parts are intimately united with subjacent parts
of the true endoskeleton. In the Giraffe there are three such bony
prominences, which arise as distinct ossifications, and only later
anchylose with the skull. These are the Giraffe's pair of short
hbrns, together with the median prominence in front of them. In
the Deer we find bony antlers, which are shed annually and are
destitute of any horny covering. Antlers may exist in both sexes,
as in the Reindeer, but generally they are present in the males
only. They arise as soft highly vascular prominences, and when
fully grown become hardened by calcareous deposit. In some
months the investing skin dries up and is got rid of; and the horn
itself falls off after the breeding season, leaving a stump whence
a new antler shoots forth again in the following year. Antlers, as
a rule, are branched — more so as the individual becomes older, till
maturity is attained. Some Deer have enormous antlers, weighing
as much as 70 lb, and formed at the rate of 1 lb a day.
Teeth. — The differences in structure, number, form, and develop-,
ment of the dental otgans are so great that they cannot hero be
treated of. See vol. vii. pp. 232 sq. ; also vol. xv. pp. 349 sq.
Internal Skeleton of Veetebeata.
The most essential part of the Vertebrate internal
skeleton is the spinal column, the foundation of which is
laid by a temporary or permanent structure called the
notochord or chorda doisalif. At the anterior end of the
spinal column there is almost always a solid structure
known as the cranium or skull, to which mandibular,
hyoidean, and branchial arches may or may not be attached.
The spinal column may be divisible into cervical, thoracic,
lumbar, sacral, and caudal portions, and may have pro-
cesses projecting from it upwards, downwards, or laterally,
with arches of varying extent, as neural arches, chevron
bones, and ribs, together with a median ventral portion —
the sternum. The whole of these parts taken together
constitute the axial skeleton. This may exist alone if
the body is limbless, but otherwise additioaal hard struc-
tures are found which together constitute the appendicular
skeleton.
Vertebrate animals never have more than two pairs of
limbs, and each pair is attached to the body by the help
of certain skeleton elements termed a limb-girdlo, diverg-
ing from which are the bard parts which constitute, the
skeleton of either " appendage " or "limb." In addition
to these we find in Fishes certain azygous structures — the
unpaired fins, — the osseous or cartilaginous supports of
which must be reckoned as o, part of the appendicular
skeleton. With the occasional (or possibly constant)
exception of the notochord, the whole Vertebrate internal
skeleton is a mesoblastic structure. In the groat majority
of the Vertebrata the skeleton is more or less bony, but
it iilways in part consists of cartilaginous and fibrous
structures.
The number and nature of the solid parts vary with
age in the same species. WTion, in the earlier stages of
existence, the process of ossification has once begun, it
goes on more or less rapidly till maturity is attained, and i^
continued, to a certain extent, throughout the whole of life.
The points at which bone formation begins aad whence
it radiates are termed "centres of ossification," and there
may be one, two, or several of these in what is ultimately
to become a single bone. Sometimes these " centres"
have an important morphological significance, and in other
instances they would seem to bo determined by the size of the
future structure. 1 Bones are classed as "cartilage bones"
or " membrane bones " according as they are formed either
through the previous formation of a cartilage which
subsequently ossifies or directly from membrane without
the intervention of cartilage. Those two classes can
generally be easily distinguished, but there are instances
in which it would seem that what is really the same
corresponding bone differs a.= to its mode of origin in
different animals. Moreover, a compound bone, formed of
a membrane bone and a cartilage bone intimately united,
may come to lose either its cartilaginous or its membranous
elements, and thus further difficulties of interpretation
may arise. There are also cases (as in the carapace of
Chelonians) in which esoskeletal dermal bones coalesce
with subjacent bones of the endoskeleton. Such bones
may become deeper in position as development advances,
and there is reason to think that not a few bones
ordinarily reckoned as parts of the endoskeleton are of
dermal origin, and first appeared in ancestral forms as
placoid scutes or dermal spines.
As the development of the skeleton proceeds, ossification
tends to fuse together more and more bones which at
thsir first appearance were separate and distinct. This is
notably the case in warm-blooded animals, and is most
noteworthy in the warmest-blooded class — that of Birds.
Besides the coalescence of distinct -bones, another fusion
of bony structures occurs. This is due to the fact that
the ends, or projecting .portions, of what are essentially
and ultimately one bone may for a time persist as distinct
bony parts, termed " epiphyses." Thus, in the case of Man,
the ends of the long bones of the limbs are at first separate
from the main part (or shaft) of each long "bone, and do
not become continuous with the latter till the human
frariie has nearly attained maturity.
The hard parts of the internal skeleton, being those
which as a framework support the body, form points of
attachment for the muscles which movB the body, — such
hard parts being used as either levers or fulcra, as the case
may be. The great majority of the bones are thus in-
tended to move one upon another. The contiguous surfaces
of bones form "joints," which may be immovable, mixed, or
movable. The bones of the skull are united by immovable
joints, called " sutures." Joints are said to bo mixed when
•the motion allowed is exceedingly slight, as when two
bones are allowed to be slightly separated from each other
by the intervention of a softer substance which is attached
to both. We have examples of movable joints in the
human neck, the two uppermost bones of which are
articulated on the principle of a pivot ; in the elbow, which
forms a hinge ; and in the shoulder, where the upper arm
joins the shoulder-blade in a ball and socket joint.
If ■ one convex articulating surface bo globular, it is
termed a head ; if it be elongated, it is called a condyle.
If either of these is borne upon a narrow portion of bono,
this latter is called a neck ; if a pulley-like surface is
formed by such a juxtaposition of two condyles ns to
leave a depression between them, such an articular surface
is named a trochlea.
The curious and exceptional arrangement termed a
» Balfour's Comparaliit Kmbryologyi vol.. ii. p. 448.
110
SKELETON
shackle joint has been already noticed under the head of
" Scutes."
AXIAX SKELETON.
The whole axial skeleton — including both the cranium
and the spinal- skeleton — apart from the notochord, is
formed from the mesoblastic tissue bordering the medullary
groove of the embryo. As the essential part of the axial
skeleton is the spinal column, so the essential foundation
of this column itself is what is known as the "notochord."
|This is an elongated cylindrical rod of soft tissue running
along the anteio-posterior axis of the body immediately
^subjacent to the central portion of the nervous system. Its
mode of origin from the germ-layers of the embryo has
jet to be finally determined. It is said by Balfour ^ to be
developed, in most if not all cases, as an axial differentia-
tion of the hypoblast. The cells of the notochord form a
tissue resembling cartilage, and it becomes surrounded by
a more or less dense fibrous sheath. Such an organ is
found to exist, temporarily or permanently, in certain lower
creatures — Ascidians — which in most other respects widely
differ from Vertebrate animals. Some few of these animals
are furnished with a tail throughout the whole of lifp,
while others are furnished with such an organ only in
their larval or immature condition. It is alone in such
permanent or temporary tail, and not in the body of As-
cidians, that a structure of this kind is met with.
In every Vertebrate animal the notochord is the first
part of the skeleton to appear, and it extends throughout
the whole length of the body, as well as of the tail In
every such animal, except the Lancelet (Amphioxtis), it
becomes arrested anteriorly in the midst of that second-
arily formed skeletal region which becomes the skull.
In Ampkioxus, however, in which no skull is ever formed,
the notochord extends to quite the anterior end of the
body. It is enclosed in a strong sheath, within which
its substance is segmented so as to resemble a longitudinal
series of coins- or counters. The only other representatives
of the internal skeleton in this animal are — (1) longitudinal
Ligaments (strengthening the sheath of the notochord
above and below); (2) fibrous septa which pass out
laterally from it between the muscles of the body, to the
fibres of which they give attachment ; (3) a longitudinal
membranous sheath of the central part of the nervous
system, forming an elongated antero-posteriorly directed
cylinder above the notochord ; (4) two vertical septa, —
ope dorsal, ascending medianly from such neural sheath,
and one ventral, descending medianly from the sheath of
the notochord in the region of the tail ; (5) two jointed
cartilaginous filaments which lie one on each side of the
longitudinal slit which serves the lancelet for a mouth;
and (6) certain cartilaginous filaments which strengthen
the sides Of the branchial cavity between th^ intervening
vertical fissures of the walls of that cavity.
In all other Vertebrate animals the axial skeleton is divis-
ible into that of the head, or the cranial skeleton, and that
of the axfal skeleton behind the head, or the spinal skeleton.
Spinal Skeleton.
In all Vertebrate animals except the Lancelet, the axial
skeleton is complicated by a longitudinal series of addi-
tional hard parts — cartilaginous or osseous — which serve to
protect the spinal cord, or marrow, above it, or the great
blood-vessels beneath it, and which hard parts support,
encroach upon, or replace the notochord itself. Neverthe-
less, the notochord persists throughout the whole of life in
certain Fishes both of the lowest and highest types of
piscine organization, but it does not persist in its entirety
in any adult Vertebrate which is not a Fish.
* Comparative Embryology, vol; ii. p. 449.
» Owen's Anatomy o/ VeHebrates, vol. i. p. 31.
In the Lamprey the notochord persists, but a longitudinal
series of small, similarly shaped cartilages strengthen the
sides of the more anterior part of the membranous dorsal
canal which encloses the spinal marrow. In the Chimaera
these are more developed, while numero^is circular cal-
cifications appear in the notochordal sheath. In the
most anterior part of the trunk the cartilaginous elements
unite to form a continuous investment of the notochord.
Amongst the Ganoid Fishes, the notochord persists un-
constricted and cylindrical in the Sturgeon and the
Lepidosiren, but cartilaginous or bony .parts appear about
it and form a longitudinal series of arches above and
below it for the protection respectively of the spinal
marrow and sub-vertebral blood-vessels. In different kinds
of Sharks further complications arise, and the notochord
becomes encroached "upon, in different modes, by chondri-
fication and calcification, till it becomes segmented by the
intervention of a series of thus formed hard parts called
" bodies " or " centra," between which relics of the
notochord still remain. By this process of segmentation
there come to be formed what are called vertebrae, the
presence of which in the overwhelming majority of Fishes,
as well as in all the higher classes of animals, has led to
the whole group being called Vertehrata.
In the vertebrae of most Vertebrates we have a solid
body or centrum, from the dorsum of which there arises
on each of its two sides a neural plate, which then benc.=
inwards to meet its fellow of the opposite side, thus form-
ing an arch (the neural arch) for the protection of the
spinal cord, or marrow, which passes through it. From
the dorsal side of such neural arch a process called the
neural spine very commonly ascends. From the sides
of the centrum or neural arch, or of both, a single process,
or two superimposed processes, may jut outwards, which
are known as the transverse process or processes, to
which the ribs are generally articulated when ribs are
present. Inferiorly directed processes, single or double,
may descend from beneath the centrum, or may be
developed in the intervals between adjacent centra, and
are generally related to the protection of large blood-
vessels, though they may only serve for muscular attach-
ment.
Adjacent vertebr® are commonly connected together by
special modifications of the neural arches or the centra, or
of both. Mostly the opposed margins of the neural arches
develop special processes for attachment called articular
processes or zygapophyses, and there may be additional
interarticulations. There may be as few as ten or as
many as four hundred vertebrae.
Vertebrae may be divisible, as in the highest animals,
into five categories: — (1) cervical, or those of the neck;
(2) dorsal, or those of the back ; (3) lumbar, or those of
the loins ; (4) sacral, or those with which the pelvic limbs
are connected ; and (5) caudal, or those which are
posterior to the sacral vertebrae, or which support the tail
when such an organ is present. There may be only two
categories (dorsal and caudal), as in Fishes.
In most Fishes and some exceptional KeptUes the body
or centrum of each vertebra is so imperfectly ossified eis
to remain biconcave or amphicoelous, — that is to say, it
presents a deeply concave cup-like form both in front and
behind. The space thus enclosed by the adjoining cups of
each pair of successive vertebrae is filled tip by a soft,
spheroidal remnant of the notochord, which thus serves
as an intermediate connecting substance. The cups may
become filled up by'ossification, as in Man and Beasts, the
flattened surfactes being connected by what are called inter-
vertebral disks. Each such disk is made of fibrous lamellae
which surround a soft elastic central portion which is a
last remnant of the notochord. Often the vertebrae ma^
SKELETON
111
have the centrum very convex at one end and very concave
at the other, and so give rise to a ball-and-socket joint
at each junction between the successive centra. Such
vertebrie may be procoelous {i.e., have the cup in front and
the ball behind), as in existing Crocodiles, or opisthococlous
(i.e., with the cup behind and the ball in front), as in the
Bony Pike Fish (Lepidosteus), the Land Salamander, and
the cervical vertebra) of Ruminants ; sometimes a vertebra
may be biconvex {i.e., have a ball at each end of its
centrum), as in the iirst caudal vertebra of the Crocodile ;
or, very rarely, there may be two prominences, or the cups
may exist side by side on one surface of a centrum, as in some
cervical vertebrae of Chelonians. Instead of intervertebral
disks, with spheroidal remnants of the notochord, adjacent
vertebrae are often (as in Snakes) united by what are called
synovial sacs, or membranous closed bags containing an
albuminous fluid called ''synovia" and commonly known
as "joint-oil."
The various parts of a vertebra may be all united to
form one single bone, as is generally the case in the higher
animals, but such is by no means universally the case. In
the Ichthyosaurus we find the neural arch permanently
distinct from the centrum; and in the Carp the transverse
processes are separate. The neural arch itself yiay be
made up of two separate pieces on each side, as in some
Elasmobranch Fishes, e.g., Eaia and Spinas.
Sometimes the neural arch, instead of reposing upon its
own centrum only, appears, as it were, shifted so as to be
connected with two adjacent centra, as is the case, e.g., with
the dorsal vertebras of Tortoises.
Generally the nerves which pass outwards from the
spinal marrow which lies in the neural canal pass out in the
intervals between adjacent neural arches. Instead of this,
however, they sometimes perforate the neural arch.
Neural spines, though generally single, may be double
or altogether absent, and sometimes, as in Tortoises, they
may intimately coalesce with superimposed dermal plates.
Ccrvicnl Vcrtcbrm. — As has been already indicated, no vertebrae
can be distinguislied as cervical in the class of FLshes. Never-
theless the first three or four vertebra; next the head niayj in some
of these animals; present a marked difference from the suweeding
vertebrse, being much elongated and united to each other by
autnrc, as in Fistularia and Bagrus, and they may, as in the latter
Kish, develop a continuous inferior vascular canal. The second
and third vertebra may form a liollow bladder-like case of bone,
as in Cobilis, or send outwards or downwards special processes, as
in the Carp.
In Amphibians only a single vertebra can be .called cervical,
but in Sauropsidans the number may be very large. Thus in the
Swan it amounts to twenty-five, while in some of the Plesiosauiians
it exceeded forty. Birds, being animals which have to perform
with the beak functions which in most animals are performed by
limbs, require to have a very movable neck ; and consequently a
considerable number of joints (and therefore of wcrtebr<e) are
required in the neck, which is the only part of the spinal column
that is ve;-y flexible. In Serpents, which Jiavo the whole spinal
column very flexible, no really .satisfactory line can be drawn
between cervical and dorsal vertebra;. In Lizards there are usually
from seven to nine, but in the whole class of Mammals (whether
the neck be very long, as in the Giraffe, or, like that of the
Porpoise, extremely short) there are constantly but seven cervical
vertebrie, except in the Sloths, which may have from nine to six,
the Manatee, which has but six, and the Manis, which may have
eight. All the cervical vertebra; may become anchyloscd together
into a single mass, as usually in the true Whales. Ordinarily in
Mammals the transverse process is said to be ]ierforated, I'.c, there
are two such on eacli side, which are short and connected at their
distal ends by a bony bridge which represents what, in the thorax,
is known as a rib, as is shown by their condition in other classes of
Vertebrates. Indeed in the lowest Mammals (Echidna and Or-
nithorhynchus) theso osseous bridges have the form of distinct,
more or less Y-shaped bones, as also in the Crocodile, where they
are much prolonged. In many Lizards and Birds the posterior
cervical vertobrte hear long ribs, and are only countocl as cervical
because such ribs do not roach the breast bone, while more pos-
teriorly placed ribs do attain it. The two superimposed transverse
processes, with the lib joining them attached to succeeding verlcbiie,
form on each aide of the neck a sort of bony canal in whicli runs
the vertebral nrtcry. Sometimes, however, as in the Camels and
Llamas, this canal is replaced by one excavated in tlie neural
arches. In some Cetaceans the external bar (or rudimentary rib)
is wanting, so that there conio to be two elongated transverse pro-
cesses on each side.
Successive cervical vertebrie may differ strikingly one from
another. Thus in the common European Terrapin we find tlw
fourth cervical vtjrtcbia with its centrum convex in front and
concave behind. The centrum of the fifth is biconvex. That of
the si.\th is concave in front with a double convexity bcliind. The
seventh is doubly convex both in front and behind. Tlie eighth
is doubly concave at each end. The ninth is donbly convex in
front and singly so behind.
The tii-st cervical vertebra is known as the atlas, and joins the
skull, which in Man it supports. It may be fused in one solid
mass with the skull, as in the Sturgeon, or with a certain number
of vertebrre, as in the Rays. It may bo united by suture, as in
Bagrus. The vertebral part of the atlas may be unossified, as in
the Wombat, or remain a distinct bone, as in the Thylacine. The
neural spine may be detached from the neural arch, as in tlio
Crocodile and Tunny. Its ventral part may send out a pointed
process towards the head, as in Ampliiuvta. It may develop two
concave surfaces to articulate with the skull, as in Amphibians and
Mammals, or only a single cup, as in Sauropsidans generally.
The second cervical vertebra is known as the axis, and is dis-
tinguishable in all Vertebrates above the Ichthyopsida. Its
centrum develops anteriorly a special peg-like or tooth-like pro-
minence known as the odontoid process, round which the head and
atlas Vertebra turn as on a pivot. This process may (as in many
Keptiles and in the Ornilhoi-hynchus amongst Mammals) remain
a distinct bone, and is regarded as the true centrum of the atlas,
which thus generally coalesces into the axis vertebra instead of
with the other portions of its own vertebra. The odontoid process
may be absent in certain Mammals, as amongst Cetaceans.
Dorso-Lumhar Vertebras. —The vertebrce which come between the
cervical vertebra and those (sacral) which support the pelvic limbs,
or, when these latter are absent, the vertebrie between the cervical
and the caudal vertebiije, form the vcrtebije of the trunk. These
are subdivisible into dorsal and lumbar wheu some of them
(always the more anterior) bear ribs and others do not but have
transverse processes only.
The number of trunk (or dorso-lumbarj vertebra; varies gi'eatly,
being very few in Frogs and Tortoises and very numerous in
Serpents. In Mammals it ranges from about seventeen, in some
Primates, to twenty-seven, in Hyrax. A definite number of trunk
vertebrae is characteristic of certain groups of Manimal.s, though
this number may be made up by different numbers of dorsal and
lumbar vertebrie.
Dorsal Vcrtebrm. — Kib-bearing vertebrae are structures constantly
' /uud in all Vertebrate animals save certain Fishes and Amphibians.
Jorsal vertebrao must be considered as including the whole nnmber
of trunk vertebr<e in Serpents, since in those animals the whole
series of the latter support ribs.
An ordinary Jlamniallan dorsal vertebra consists of a body and ■
neural arch with articular processes or zygapophyses and with a
more or less elongated neural spine, and a transverse process
which juts out and bears an articular surface at its end. This
process answers to the more dorsal of each pair of transverse pro-
cesses on each side of a cervical vertebra. Another articular
surface placed at about the junction of the neural arch and centrum
answers to the more ventral of each pair of transverse processes on
each side of a cervical vertebra.
The rib which on each side of the vertebra articulates with
these two surfaces has goperally itself such a surface at its prox-
imal end (or head) and another on a more or leas marked promi-
nence called the tubercle of the rib. These are respectively
designated the capitulum and tubeiculum, and therefore the iiro-
cesses or articular surfaces of the vertebra to 'which the capitulum
and tuberculum are respectively attached are •sUed the capitular
and tubercular processes or surfaces, as the case may be.
Sometimes each vertebra carries but one such articular surface
(that for the capitulum of the ribs), as in the Dolphin. The two
articular surfaces may co-exist at dill'crent levels on one single
process, as in the dorsal vertebrie of the Crocodile, or they may bo
in close apposition, and, as it were, fused together, as in Scrpentjp.
They may, however, bo supported by two quite distinct juocosscs
— one dorsal, the otker ventral, — as ui Ichlhyoaaunti and Mcno-
bronchus.
Man has twelve dorsal vertebra). This is a little below the
average of his class, where there may be twenty-four, ns.in the Two-
toed Sloth. There are more than twelve in most Reptiles, while in
Birds there are mostly but seven to nine, or, very rarely, eleven,
while there may, as in Ciconia alba, be but three reckoned as dorsal
on account of the great extsot of ossiGcation in the sacinim or
part connected with the legs.
The roost remarkable modif '*ion of dorsal vertebra is that in
Tortoises and Turtles, whof neural spines cxiuind at their
112
SKELETON
summits into wide plates which arifoulate by suture with each
other and with similarly expanded ribs, to form the carapace.
In Serpents and Iguanas we have a special mode of vertebral
interarticulation, over and above that formed by the zygapophyses.
The neural arch develops a median anterior prominence with two
articular surfaces called the zygosphene, and this fits into a corre-
gponding median posterior recess called the zygantrum.
The maximum of complication as regards the interarticulation of
dorsal vertebrae is found in the last dorsal of the Great Anteater.
There each posterior zygapophysis develops two additional articular
surfaces, one on each side of a notch which receives a process
from the ant"r!or side of the neural arch of the succeeding vertebra,
which proces." is furnished with two corresponding surfaces. Jlore
or les.- distinct traces of certain additional processes, called met-
apophyoes and anapophyses, are sometimes present, but these it
will be better to notice when describing the lumbar vertebrse,
wherein they are more developed.
We find in some Serpents peculiar processes which project down-
wards and forwards from the base of foa inner side of the transverse
processes. We may also find present a long median inferior pro-
cess extending vertically from the ventral surface of the centrum
and as long as, or longer than, the neural spine of the same vertebra.
Such processes are present in many Serpents — especially the
poisonous ones — and in such Birds as the Penguin and Coriporant.
Lainhdr Verlehrs. — These are vertebrae interposed between the
dorsal vertebrae and the sacrum; they are generally the largest
vertebrae of each veitebral column, but sometimes (as in Fiats and
Pterodactyles) the cervical vertebrae are yet larger. Lumbar
vertebrae are generally to be distinguished in Mammals, in Croco-
diles, and in certain Lizards, but not in any Ichthyopsidan.
In Birdii lumbar vertebrae are present, but are disguised and
hidden by the extent to which the sacral ossification extends for-
•vards.
There are five lumbar vertebrse in -Man, but the number in him
is below the average of his class, though some Apes have but four.
The Slow Lemur may have nine, the Two-toed Sloth has but
three, and the Monotremes but two. These vertebra; are very
numerous in the Cetacea, but the hinder limit of the lumbar
region is more or less difficult to determine in these animals. The
transverse processes are generally much longer than those of the
dorsal vertebrae,- and do not bear either capitular or tubercular arti-
cular surfaces.
The processes already spoken of as metapophyses and anapophyses
are generally much more developed in tlie lumbar than iu the
dorsal vertebrae. The former project forwards from the vicinity of
the anterior zygapophyses, and the latter project backwards at a
lower level. Both processes are to be detected in the last dorsal
and first lumbar vertebrae of Mtin, but are at their maximum in
the Armadillos. In addition, also, to the complexity of articula-
tion before described as existing on the last dorsal vertebra of tl. ^
Great Anteater, we find in that animal's lumbar region an addi
tional articular surface on each side of each transverse process.
The lumbar vertebrae may be anchylosed together and to other
parts of the skeleton, as is the case iu Birds.
Sacral Verlebrx. — These are distinguished from others, not only
by their connexion with the skeleton of the pelvic limbs, but also
by their coalescence and a certain degradation in their structure
as compared with the trunk and cervical vertebra. In Man five
veVtebr^ thus coalesce to form the more or less triangular single
bone known as the sacrum, but which always shows plain traces of
its composite nature. Such coalescence and degradation generally
exist in Vertebrates above the Ichthyopsida, which possess fully
developed limbs. The coalescence of vertebra is generally less
extensive than in Man, though sometimes — as in Birds, some
Edentates, and some Reptiles— it is much greater. The sacrum
may be composed of as many as ten vertebrae (as in some Arma-
dillog) or of twenty (as in the Ostrich), and the lumbar or caudal
vertebrffl or both contribute to its formation.
In most if not all Mammals the sacral vertebrre — or the more
anterior of them — have what are at first distinctly ossified elements
in their transverse processes, which elements (like p^ts before
noticed in the cervical vertebra;) are costal in their nature, i.e.,
represent rudimentary ribs, and in Crocodiles and Tailed Amphibians
the sacral vertebrae have a distinct rudimentary rib attached to
each transverse process. In Birds, however, the vertebrae of the
sacrum, which have expanded transverse processes^ do not develop
these fro'm distinct ossiftcations.
As regards the extent of connexion between the sacrum and the
hip bones, union is more extensive in Man than in most Beasts,
or in animals below Birds. Often in Mammals and almost always
in Tailed Batrachians it may be confined to a single vertebra ; but
■ten vertebra may be involved in this union in Mammals and
iwenty in Birds.
That the development of the sacrum is not always :2 proportion
to that of the pelvic limbs is proved by the little Lizard Scps, in
which, in spite- of the rudimentary condition of the limbs, there
«re true sacral vertebrae.
No Fishes have a true sacrum, though, very rarely, as in the Tur-
bot, we meet with a kind of false sacrum, formed by the anchylosis
of the bodies and ventral spines of the first two caudal vertebra;.
Caudal Vcrtcbrx. — The vertebrae of the tail may be as many as
270, as in some Sharks. Amongst ilammals 48 {Microgale longi-
caudata) is the highest number. Man has usually rudimentary
caudal vertebra,' completely or partially united so as to form a
small conical bone called the coccyx. Its proximal end articulates
with the sacrum by its centrum and two small zygapophyses. It
has besides two rudimentary transverse luocesscs and two processes
representing piers of the absent neural arch. ■ The other vertcbixe
are destitute of processes and consist but of smaller and smaller
vertebral centra. Thus the last vertebra is the very opposite of the
first (or atlas), being all centrum, while the atlas has no centrum at
all. The coccyx usually becomes anchylosed to the sacrum about
or after the middle of life. The caudal region is still more reduced
in some Bats, where there may be but two such vertebrae.
In animals provided with numerous coccygeal vertebra", such
vertebrae may be provided with processes and articulations as
complex as those of other spinal regions. Transverse processes
may be largely developed at the tail root, but almost always thence
backwards diminish in extent ; sometimes, however, as in the
Armadillo {Chlamydophorus), they may increase in size backwards
from the tail root. Rarely (as, e.g., in Mcnobranrhits) caudal
vertebra may be furnished with two ribs supported by both
tubercular and capitular processes. Inferior arches may exist in the
form of detached " chevron Bbws " placed beneath the intervals of
successive caudal vertebra, especially towards the tail root. They
may be represented by processes or by continuously ossified inferior
arches, \»!uch may, as in the Flat Fishes, be very prolonged, extend-
ing downwards from each centrum as much as the neural arch and
spine extend upwards from it.
Birds have generally six or eight, but may have ten, caudal
vertebra, at the end of which is a so-called "ploughshare-bone,"
consisting of two or more vertebra anchylosed together.
The caudal region of the Frog is formed in a very peculiar way.
It never consists of distinct vertebra at any time of life, but it
formed by the ossification of the membrane which surrounds the
notochord, to which two small neural arches become attached. Thii
structure is called the urostyle.
In Fishes (as in the Perch and Stickleback) there may be a urostyle
continuous with the centrum of the last vertebra. Such a urostyle,
unlike tliat of the Frog, is very sharply bent upwards. It is very
small and inconspicuous. In other Fishes the hinder part of the
notochord may (as in the Salmon) remain \inossiKed and only pro-
tected by lateral bony plates, but it is still sharply bent upwards.
In a few Fishes (as, e.g., Polypicrus) the hinder end of the spinal
column is not bent upwards. In other Fishes again (as in the
Sturgeon and many Sharks) the hinder end of the vertebral column
gradually tapers and gradually (not suddenly as in the Percl
and Salmon) inclines upwards. In the forms in which the hindei
end of the vertebral column bends upwards— whether gradually
or suddenly — the arches and processes beneath its hinder end exceciJ
in size those on the dorsal side of it, as also do the fin-rays attached
to them. Thus it happens that the part of tlie caudal fin which ii
on the ventral side of the gradually or suddenly bent-up pa'rt ol
the spinal column more or less greatly exceeds in size the part on
the dorsal side. In those Sea Fishes (e.g., the Sturteou and many
Sharks) in which the upward fiexion is gradual and jnanifest, thf
ventral part of the caudal fin is evidently the larger, and such ^^
tail is called hderocercal. In Fishes in which the hinder end of the
spinal column is suddenly bent up and of minute size, so that its
real condition is disguised, the caudal fin appears symmetrical and
as if the ]iarts dorsal and ventral to the end of the spinal column were
equal. Such a condition has been named homoccrcal. Those Fishes
in which the spinal column ends without turning upwards, and in
which the parts of the caudal fin dorsal and ventral to it are really
and not only apparently symmetrical, are said to be diphycercal.
Sternum. — The breastbone or sternum extends more or
less along the middle line of the ventral region of the
anterior part of the trunk in all Vertebrates above Fishes,
except Serpents and a few other Reptiles.
Almost always it is connected with the more anterior
ribs. Its ant.c-iior end is distinguished as the manubrium
or prestermira, and its hinder is called the xiphoid process
or xiphisternum — the middle part being the " body " or
mcsostiirnum. A sternum may exist without ribs, or
with-out forming any cartilaginous or osseous connexion
with ribs, as in the AmjMbia. T-he plastron of Chelonians
might well be supposed to be a great sternum, more
especially as the plate-like ribs are connected with it. It
appears, however, that this great complex plate does not
really include a sternum.
SKELETON
113
TL« before-mentioned tliieefold division of the stornura
is normal in JIammals, and also exists, thougli more
cbscurely, in Birds and Reptiles. Even in JIammals it is
not universal ; the manubrium only may De present, as in
the Greenland Whale, or the manubrium and xiphisternum
without any mesosternum, as in the Dugong.
In Tailed Amphibians and the Slow-Worm (Anf/uis) we
have a single sternum, which may be mesosternum only,
while in many Frogs and Toads we have only the latter
and the xiphisternum. The manubrium may develop a
median keel, as in Bats, the Mole, and Armadillos; or the
mesosternum, as in the Tamandua ; or the mesosternum
and xiphisternum, as in most Birds.
The xiphisternum may assume various forms, but attains
its maximum development in Birds, where it forms the part
of the sternum posterior to the attachment of the ribs, and
may consist of a median and four lateral processes, as in
the Fowl. It bears the greater part of the keel.
In the Monotxemes there is a median ossicle in front of
the manubrium, which is often called the episternum. It
is really a part of the appendicular skeleton.
Bibs. — Mammals possess a greater or less number of ribs,
which are mostly long, slender, curved bones, extending
downwards from the transverse processes or bodies of the
vertebra, the more anterior of them forming a junction
with the sternum. The part of the skeleton formed by
the rib-bearing vertebrae, the ribs, and the sternum is called
the thorax. In Man (see Anatomy) there are twelve ribs
(on each side of the body), whereof the first seven join
the sternum by the intervention of cartilages, and are
called " true ribs." The other five, which do not join the
sternum, are called "false ribs." Each rib (except the last
two on each side) has a double attachment to the spinal
column. At its proximal end it has a rounded " head " or
" capitulurn," which articulates with the capitular surface
of a dorsal vertebra. At a little distance from the
capitulum is another rounded articular prominence called
the " tubercle " or " tuberculum," which joins a vertebral
tubercular surface. The part of the rib between the head
and the tubercle is called the "neck." At its distal end
each rib has attached to it an elongated cartilage called
" costal." Those costal cartilages which do not join the
sternum either end freely or blend with the costal cartilage
next in advance.
Frogs and Toads have no ribs, nor can they be said to
exist in some Fishes (e.g., the Chima;ra, the Seahorse, the
Lamprey and its allies) ; but in the immense majority of
Vertebrates there are cartilaginous or osseous ribs, attached
by their proximal enda to the vertebral column, and
tending to surround the trunk.
All rib-bearing animals have both "true "and "false"
ribs, save Serpents, Fishes, and C'helonians, which can have
no true ribs since they have no rternum, and Tailed Amphi-
bians, in which, though there is a sternum, no ribs join it.
There may, however, be but a single pair of true ribs — as
in the Wl^alobone Whales. The ribs are exceptionally
broad in the Two-toed Antoater, where they overlap one
another. The number of ribs has already been indicated
under the head of " dorsal vertebrae," though in Birds we
may have short ribs attached to the cervical vertebrae, and
others coming from vertebrae which are generally counted
as " sacral." There may bo as few as five or six pairs, as
in Amphiuma ; or the numbers may reach 320, as in some
Pythons. In many Reptiles; as in the Crocodiles, there
may be cervical ribs ; and there may oven be caudal ribs,
as in Maiobranchus.
The function of aiding respiration is one which the ribs
possess in the higher Vertebrata, but quite other purposes
may be subserved by them in addition to, or instead of,
respiratory o-tion — namely, locomotion, change of form, or
22-7
bodily protection as armour Thus the rits may form a
solid case for the safe keeping of the parts within, co-oper-
ating in this office with other skeletal structures so as to
form the " carapace " of Tortoises already noticed. Ribs
may be the main agents in locomotion, as in Snakes, which
glide along by the successive application to the ground of
the edges of their ventral scales, which is brought about by
the motions of the ribs, the ends of which are connected
with the inner surface of such scales. In the little flying
Lizard Draco certain much elongated ribs serve to support
a parachute-like flying membrane, and in the Cobra it is
certain ribs which sustain its " hood " when distended.
The presence of a distinct "head" and " tubercle'' is a
general but not constant character, and the head of the
ribs may be connected with two vertebrae or only with one
vertebra. The ribs may bifurcate proximally into two
equal diverging branches, one representing the "head"
and the other the " tubercle." A small "backwardly-
projecting structure termed an " uncinate process " may be
given off from the ribs and may ossify as a distinct bone,
as in most Birds and in the Crocodile.
Sometimes (as in Monotremes and many Lizards) a
third segment may be intercalated between a rib and its
sternal cartilage, and sternal cartilages may be represented
by bones, as in Birds and Armadillos. In some Lizards
the sternal cartilages of opposite ribs are continuous in the
mid ventral line. There may be no representative of a
sternal rib, as in Fishes and Batrachians.
Rarely, as in the Crocodile, there may be ventral
rib-like structures in the wall of the abdomen, which
meet and are attached ventrally, but are " free " at their
dorsal ends. These cannot, however, be counted as true
ribs. Fishes have often two series of ribs on each side
of the body, and in Polt/pienis some vertebrae may have
four ribs on either side. In Fishes the ribs may also be in
part attached to the neural spines above or to the haemal
spines be'ow the vertebrae.
Cranial Skeleton.
By the cranial skeleton we mean the skull, or that part
of the axial skeleton which serves to shelter the brain (or
anterior expanded end of the central part of the nervous
system), together with solid structures continuous or more
or less directly connected therewith. Such a structure
exists in every Vertebrate animal, except the Amphiumu,
which has no brain. Nothing of the kind is known to
exist in any Ascidian or in any Invertebrate animal, —
unless that cartilage of Cuttlefishes which serves as an
investment of the nerve centres and a support for the
optic and auditory organs may be deemed a true cranial
skeleton, since its portions just enumerated make it, as we
shall shortly see, very analogous to a true skull.
The cranial skeleton' is, of course, at first composed
entirely of soft niesoblastic tissue, parts of which always
become cartilaginous and generally also osseous, while
more or less of its structure may remain in the condition
of mere membrane. The bones which generally, as just
said, enter into its, framework may arise directly in the
membrane or may be preceded by cartilage which ossifies,
a circumstance which divides the cranial b&ncs into two
categories — " membrane bones " and " cartilage bones."
The cranial skeleton of -Vertebrates is made up of three
sets of parts : — (1) parts devoted to enclosing and protect-
ing the brain; this is the craniuni proper; (2) j)art3
sheltering the, organs of sense situated in the head —
namely the optic, auditory, and olfactory capsules ; thcs*
skeletal parta consist of the bones, cartilages, and mem-
branes of the orbit, the internal ear, and the nose rospco-
tively, or the porioptic, periotic, and i)erirhinal bonoa mid
cartilages ; (3) parts coDtinuous or more or Ics-s dircctljf
114
SKELETON
connected with the cranium, and Applied to aid nutrition
in the form of deglutition or respiration ; such skeletal
parts are the jaws and arches (or parts of such) behind
the jaws known as the hyoidean and branchial arches.
1. The Cartilaginous Cranial Skeleton.— 'Y^\% is formed
" by a differentiation within the membranous cranium,""
and consists of two plates (parachordals) placed one on
each side of the anterior part of the notochord, and forming
with the latter the floor of the hinder part of the cranium,
which part is known as the basilar plate. The carti-
laginous auditrory capsules are closely united to the outer
sides of the basilar plate. From the anterior margin
of that plate two bars, called the " trabeculse," diverge for-
wards from the anterior end of the notochord, and then
approximate, so as to enclose what is known as the
pituitary space, and also the floor of the anterior part of
the cranium.' Thence they advance (generally united)
into the nasal or ethmoidal region of the skull, forming a
median i?asal septum, having a cartilaginous olfactory
capsule on each side of it, and developing lateral pro-
cesses in front of and behind thosf capsules. Only in the
Cydostomata is there a single olfactory capsule instead of
a pair. The nature of the parachordals and trabeculae is
disputed, but opinion inclines to regard them as corre-
sponding to the neural arches of the spinal skeleton, —
except the part around the notochord, which corresponds
with centra in an unsegmented condition.
Upgrowths arise on the outer side of each parachordal,
and these meet above and thus form a complete dorsal
aBch in the hinder or occipital region of the skull. The
posterior, aperture of this arch is called the occipital fora-
men, and through it the spinal cord enters the cranium,
there to expand and become the brain. Lateral plates
arise on each side farther forwards, in the anterior or
sphenoidal region of the cranium. But these do not gene-
rally ascend enough to unite together dorsally, at least
they almost always form but an imperfect roof to the
cranial cavity. This cranial aperture may be related to a
median, dorsally placed, eye, which probablyonce existed
in all Vertebrates, and still exists in a rudimentary condi-
tion in many Lizards. ^ The lateral plates grow together
medianly in front, and more or less completely separate
the cranial cavity from the ethmoidal region in front otit.
Openings are left here and there in the cartilages of the
cranial walls for the passage outwards of nerves from the
central part of the nervous system ; but these openings or
foramina will be noticed in describing the osseous cranial
skeleton. On each side of the sphenoidal region are the
optic cartilaginous capsules, which, however, never become
united (as do the others) with the cranium, and therefore
are not generally reckoned as parts of the skull. A special
median cartilaginous vertical upgrowth from the trabeculse
between these capsules may (as in Teleostean Fishes,
Lizards, and Birds) form an interorbital plate beneath the
most anterior part of the cranial cavity.
The third category of cranial skeletal parts is generally
represented by a series of ■ descending cartilaginous bars
(or visceral arcs) on each side of the alimentary canal,
running forwards beneath the cranium to terminate at the
mouth.
As this lateral region o? the head corresponds with the
body wall behind it, and shows transitory indications of
division (like the body wall behind it) into an inner part
or splanchnopleure and an outer part or somatopleure, it
is obvious that skeletal structures formed in its inner or
outer part may be taken as belonging to different cate-
gories. In the Cydostomata, as in the Lamprey, we' find
cartilaginous^ bars placed in the somatic division exclu-
' Balfour, ii. p. 466. .
» See Natur: of May 13, 1886, p. 33. j
sively, — bars which support and externally protect the
series of gill-pouches on each side; and parts probalily
homologous with these somatic bars of the Lamprey ,ire
found also in some Sharks.
The Cyclostomes also possess complex labial cartilages
which support the lips of their suctorial mouths. Re-
presentatives of these cartilages are also to be found about
the mouths of many Fishes, as well as in the temporary
suctorial mouth of the Tadpole; and they still persist in
connexion with the olfactory capsules, though in a reduced
form, in higher animals.* The most important members
of the third category of cranial skeletal parts are — (1) the
series of cartilaginous arches lying in the splanchnic or inner
region of the lateral wall of the head, which arches sup-
port the gill-pouches on their inner sides and are known as
the branchial arches, and (2) the arches seemingly in series
with them, which are more anteriorly placed, and which
are known as the hyoidean arches and the jaws.
One or other, or both, of these two sets' of arches are
well developed in all craniate Vertebrates, except the
Cyclostomes, in which there are no true branchial arches,
but only a hyoidean and a rudimentary jaw arch. There
may be as many as seven branchial arches {e.g., in Koti-
damis), but five are usually present in water-breathjng
Vertebrates. The hyoidean arch becomes segmented i.ito
two noteworthy portions, the upper of which is known as
the hyomandibular portion.
The most anterior, or mandibular arch, also becomes
segmented into an upper or metapterygoid portion, an
inferior or Meckelian portion, and a median or pterygo-
quadrate portion, which grows forwards in front of the
metapterygoid portion, and forms the foundation of the
upper jaw against which the lower jaw (formed from the
Meckelian portion) bites.
The thus formed upper and lower jaws may come to be
suspended from the cranium in one of three ways. (1)
They may depend from the cranium directly, that is, with-
out the intervention of the hyoidean arch; this arrange-
ment is known as autostylic,* and exists in all Vertebrates
above Fishes, as well as in certain of the latter {Ch.inise.ra
and the Dip?ioi). (2) They may be suspended by the
co-operation of the hyomandibular portion of the hyoidean
arch with their own metapterygoid portion ; this arrange-
ment is known As amphistylic, and is found in .N'otidanus,
Hexanchus, and Ostracion.^ (3) They may be suspended
exclusively by the hyomandibular portion of the hyoidean
arch (to the exclusion of their more proximal portion), as
in most Fishes and the Skates — an arrangement known
as hyostylic.
2. The Osseous Cranium. — The bony skull is formed
partly by ossifications of the cartilage of the cartilaginous
skull and partly by ossifications of the membranes investing
or completing it. The cartilaginous cranium may, as in
Elasmobranchs, be covered by a thin calcified layer with-
out becoming ossified. It may, as in the Selachian
Gaijoids, remain itself quite unossified, and yet become
enveloped by membrane bones. In most cases, however,
the investment of the cartilaginous cranium by membrane
bones is accompanied by a more or less complete ossifica-
tion of the cartilage itself. In the Amphibia the carti-
laginous cranium is to a not inconsiderable extent ossified,
but the membrane bones which invest it are nevertheless
easily separable from it. The most constant ossifications
of the cartilaginous cranium are in the occipital region.
In the Lepidosiren these are the only ones, a bone being
thus formed on each side of the occipital foramen, which
bones are known as the exoccipitals.
' Balfour, loc. cit., p. 490.
* These terms were proposed by Professor Huxley.
' Balfour, loc. cit., p. 475.
SKELETON
115
Many disputes have taken place as to what cranial
boaes (both cartilage and membrane bones) of one group
of animals correspond with those of other groups. Such
disputes still exist in certain cases, and it would be unwise
to positively assert more than the existence of a general cor-
respondence between the cranial bones of widely different
'Vertebrates — such, for example, as between Teleostean
Fishes and Eeptiles or Mammals.
Beneath the occipital foramen the basioccipital bone
arises, and it may, as in Birds and Reptiles, develop a
posterior prominence which joins with contiguous promi-
nences of the e.xoccipitais to form a single " condyle "
for articulation with the spine. On the other hand, there
may be, as in Mammals and Amphibians, two lateral
exoccipital condyles uiaccompanied by any median basi-
occipital prominence. In most Fishes we find only a
concave articular surface behind the basioccipital, which
thus resembles in form the vertebral centra, the anterior
posterior surfaces of which are concave. A fourth bone,
the supraoccipital, generally bounds the occipital foramen
above.
In front of this occipital segment the auditory capsule,
on each side, generally ossifies from three centres of ossifi-
cation, which form the prootic, opisthotic, and epiotic bones
respectively. Of these the first is the most constant, and
is the only one which ossifies in the Frog. When all
three are present, the prootic is anterior in position, the
opisthotic inferior and posterior, and the epiotic posterior
and superior. Sometimes, as in Fishes, two other supero-
external bones may be formed in the auditory capsule, the
more anterior of which is the sphenotic and the more
posterior the pterotic.
The base of the craniupi, in front of the basioccipital,
generally ossifies as the basisphenoid, and a depression on
its upper surface is known as the sella turcica or pituitary
fossa. In front of the basisphenoid there may be, as in
Mammals, another azygous bone, the presphenoid. The
skull's lateral walls (in front of the auditory capsule) ossify
as the alisphenoid and orbitosphenoid on each side, the
latter forming the antero-lateral wall of the cranium. The
optic capsule or sclerotic may be merely membranous, as
in Mammals, or may ossify, as in Birds, but it never forms
any solid connexion with the cranial walls.
The olfactory region very often ossifies as a median
vertical bone (the mesethmoid) and two lateral ones (the
lateral ethmoids or prefrontals). These ethmoidal ossifica-
tions may close the cranial cavity anteriorly, or may be
altogether anterior to it. The olfactory and presphenoidal
region may ossify very exceptionally as one bone. Such
a condition we find in the Frog and its allies. These bones
vary greatly in different classes of Vertebrates as to the
degrees in which they anchylose together or remain dis-
tinct, and also as to the order in which those unite which
ultimately coalesce. Similar differences occur with respect
to the remaining skull bones. Speaking generally, we
find the greatest amount of distinctness in the Osseous
Fishes, and the .greatest amount of coalescence in the class
of Birds.
The membrane bones of the cranium are moa<; con-
spicuous and constant on its .roof. In Fishes we find
every grade of transition between simple dermal scutes
and true subdermal bones of the internal skeleton. Well-
developed dermal cranial scutes are to be found in the
Sturgeon and some Sil'uroids. Where the membrane bones
still retain the character of dermal plates, those on the
dorsal surface of the cranium are usually arranged in a
series of longitudinal rows, continuing in th'o region of the
jhead the rows of dermal scutes of the trunk. The dorsal
cranial dermal bones differ ia different Fishes as regards
arrangement and number as well as size. Owing, how-
ever, to tlieir linear arrangements, they usually receive'
corresponding namgs, tliougli it is very doubtful whether
they can be considered as truly homologous.' In most
Bony Fishes, as in higher animals, we may generally dis-
tinguish in the cranial roof one or two parietals, with an
interparietal or upper (or upper part of a) supraoccipital
behind the parietals, and a frontal or pair of frontalis in
front of them. A bone called the squamosal may also
form part of tbe cranial roof, as in Mammals, and may
send forwards and outwards a process which unites with
another form, a preorbital bone, to form a zygomatic arch.
In front, above, behind, and beneath the orbit (in which
lies the sclerotic) bones may arise termed malars and
lachrymals, supraorbitals, and post-frontab respectively,
and tbe zygomatic process of the squamosal may . unite
with a corresponding process from the malar or the post-
frontal. The malar bone, or (as it is often called) the
jugal, rather belongs, however, to the third category of
cranial skeletal parts. The olfactory or ethmoidal region
becomes roofed over in part by the frontals, in part by
the lateral bones (belonging to the third category of cranial
parts to be presently noticed) called the maxillae, but it
is mainly roofed over by two bones (sometimes one bone)
called nasals, which bound the posterior surface of the
external nasal opening on each side of the skull. In
Bony Fishes, Amphibians, and Serpents almost the whole
cranium is invested below by a large membrane bone called
the parasphenoid.
The nervous centres within the cranial cavity send forth
nerves through certain definite small apertures or foramina,
which show much constancy of position. As a rule, and
in the highest class of Vertebrates, the olfactory nerves
pass out niedianly in front to the ethmoids, between the
orbitosphenoids or the membranous parts which may re-
present them. The optic nerves perforate the orbito-
sphenoids, but may pass out behind them. In Lizards
(e..(/., Halteria, Angtds, and many others) an aperture is
left in the roof of the skull which is called the " parietal
foramen." It serves for the reception of a third and rudi-
mentary eye, the existence of which in Lizards was before
referred to in noticing the cartilaginous cranium. It is a
structure of great morphological interest. The nerves of
the muscles of the eye, as well as the first of the three
divisions of the fifth nerve, pass out in the interval between
the orbito- and ali-sphenoids. The two other divisions of
the fifth, as a rule, perforate the alisphenoid, the third the
more constantly, the aperture for it being known as the
foramen ovale, the less constant aperture for the second
branch being called the foramen rotundum. The auditory
nerve enters the auditory capsule (whether ossified or not)
on its inner side, and does not pass out from it, but the
facial nerve both perforates and traverses it. The glos-
sopharyngeal, pneumogastric, and spinal accessory nerves
pass out between the auditory capsule and the exoccipital,
which latter bone is perforated and traversed by the hypo-
glossal nerve.
Thus the osseous cranium (apart from the sense-cap-
sules) consists of three arched segments : of these the
hindmost is formed by the basi-, ex-, and supra-occipitals,
the median by the basisphenoid, alisphenoids, and parietals,
and the anterior by the presphonoid, the orbitosphenoid,
and the frontals. These have been called "cranial
vertebrae," and certainly if the essence of vertebrae consists
in' their being a series of solid rings, fitted together and
enclosing a tract of the nervous centres, then it must be
admitted that the cranium — of the highest class of
animals at least — is made up of three such vertcbne.
Their development, however, is altogether different from
that of true vertebrae, and no such resemblance to vertebroj
' balluur, he. cit., p. 466.
J16
SKELETON
is to be detected in the constituent parts of tlie cartilagin-
ous cranium. Nevertlieless it is undeniable that there is
a singular secondary and induced resemblance to vertebraj
ill these ossified skeletal parts.
The osseous condition of the third category of cranial
skeletal parts varies extremely in different classes of Verte-
brates. The limits of this article are altogether insuffi-
cient for more than a brief indication of the main varieties
of the cranial structures of any of the three categories,
and the reader must refer for details to the descriptions
given in the various articles of this work which are devoted
to different groups of animals.
Thi- most anterior lateral descending bar or visceral arc
is known as the mandibular arch. That part of it which
extends forwards and forms the upper jaw presents us
with the following ossifications arranged in two rows —
one external, the other internal. The external row, pro-
ceeding from before backwards, consists of premaxilla,
maxilla, jugal (or malar), and very often of a quadrato-
jugal, which latter, when present, is generally in the
form of a bar of bone (with an interval between it and
the skull), forming, or helping to form, an inferior lateral'
external arch analogous to the superior lateral arch already
noticed as the "zygoma." There may be a pair of pre-
raaxillse, or they may be represented by an azygous bone.
The premaxilla, maxilla, and jugal often unite with the
anterior outer margins of the nasal, frontal, and lachrymal
to form a continuous bony external wall to the anterior
part of the skull. The internal row of bones, proceeding
again from before backwards, consists of the vomer, pala-
tine, and pterygoid, which, with their fellows of the opposite
side (and sometimes with the aid of the parasphenoid),
form the bony roof to the mouth, which roof may (as in
Mammals and Crocodiles) be a continuous bony partition,
or may be but a sort of open bony framework. Besides the
pterygoid proper, other ossifications, adjoining it, have been
distinguished as the entopterygoid and ectopterygoid.
The lower part of the most anterior lateral visceral
arc forms all or part of the lower jaw. In the Mammalia
it forms the whole of that jaw, and is invested by but a
single bone — the dentary. In other Vertebrates it forms
but the distal, though greater, part of that jaw, and may
be invested, not only by a dentary, but also by bones
called angular,, subangular, coronoid, and splenial. The
jaw is further continued, proximally, by two bones — the
articular and the quadrate — which are ossifications of the
cartilaginous arc itself. This may, as in Birds and Rep-
tiles, be directly articulated to the cranial wall, or it may
be (as in Fishes) suspended therefrom by bones, the
highest of which is termed the " hyomandibular, which
articulates with the ossified auditory capsule. The hyo-
mandibular joins below two other bones, the anterior of
which is called the metapterygoid and the posterior (he
symplectic, to both of which the quadrate is attached.
Thus these four bones act as a " suspensorium " for the
lower jaw, the joint between which jaw and the suspenso-
rium is placed at the junction of the quadrate and the
articular. In Mammals, parts answering to the suspen-
sorium, the quadrate, and the articular form no part
of the jaw but are of relatively minute size- and are
known as certain parts (the auditory ossicles, <fec.) of the
internal ear,^ and are protected externally by an ossifica-
tion called the tytupanic bone.
The second lateral descending bar or visceral arc, known
as the hyoidean arch, may have its upper part ossified, in
uoioo with the preceding arch, as in the bony suspensorium
of Fishes just described. On the other hand its upper part
may, as in Mammals, be represented only by minute parts
• The exact and precise homologies of these parts seem still to be
piijiidice.
of the internal ear, — except the very summit of the arch",
which forms the tympanohyal, and is anchylosed to the
ossified auditory capsule of the internal ear. In Bony
Fishes the hyoidean arch begins to free itself from the
suspensorium, as a bone called the stylohyal, which is
attached to the preceding or mandibular arch, between
the hyomandibular and the symplectic. The arc then
continues downwards as the epihyal and ceratohyal, ending
below in the basihyal, from which a glossohyal may project
forwards and a urohyal backwards. In Fishes certain
styliform ossicles termed branchiostegal rays may project
backwards from the hyoidean arch ; and above them
certain membrane bones called opercular bones — the oper-l
culum, preo[)erculum, suboperculum, and interoperculum
■ — are attached above to the hyomandibular, and lie
outside the mandibular and hyoidean arches.
In the air-breathing Vertebrates the hyoidean arch
may be well developed or very imperfectly so, and
concurs with parts belonging to the more posteriorly
situated lateral arches to form a complex bone — the os
hyoides — as will be further described.
The.se more posterior lateral arches — the branchial
arches — attain their most complex osseous condition in
Bony Fishes, which have commonly five of them, not
solidly united to the skull above, but connected one with
another inferiorly and with the inferior part of the hyoid
arch. From below upwards these arches consist generally
of a basibranchial, a hypobranchial, a ceratobranchial, an
epibranchial, and a pharyngobranchial, but the hindmost
arch is less fully and complexly formed.
In air-breathing Vertebrates the already-mentiouBd os
hyoides consists of a central part or " body," to which are
attached two pairs of single or jointed processes termed
cornua. The anterior pair of cornua (known in human
anatomy as the lesser cornua) represent the hyoidean
arch, and may contain all its bones, including the " tym-
panohyal" The posterior pair of cornua (the greater
cornua of human anatomy and the thyrohyals of Mammals
generally) answer to or represent part of the branchial
arches, and may be longer or shorter than the anterior
pair of cornua. That they really have this homology is
proved by the process of metamorphosis of the Tadpole,
which in its early stage has distinct cartilaginous bran-
chial arches that become the posterior cornua of the os
hyoides of the adult Frog.
The osseous skull may, its bones remaining distinct,'
form a very solid whole, and the brain-case may be com-
plete,-as in Mammals, or it maybe very loosely constructed
and largely membranous, as, e.g., in most Lizards. . Teeth
may be connected with various bones, — most constantly
with the dentary, maxillje, and premaxillaB, — but the
palatines, pterygoids, parasphenoid (in Plet>i'-idon), phary ngo-
branchials, and even the basioccipital (Carp and Tench),
may be dentigerous.
The structure of the skull is so exceedingly complex
and varied that it is impossible within the limjts of the
present article to do more than give the above general
indications. For further particulars. the reader is referred
to the anatomical details which will be found in the
several articles of this work which are devoted to the
description of different single groups of Vertebrate animals,
and especially to the description of the skull of Man in,
the article Anatomy.
APPENDICULAK SKELETON^
This part of the internal skeleton of Vertebrate' animals
normally supports two pairs of limbs only, but in one
class-^that of Fishes — there are azygous structures — the
unpaired fins — which, as before said, must be reckoned as
belonging to this category. These latter will be more
SKELETON
117
conveniently treated ct later. The whole appendicular
ibkeleton may, however, be wanting, as in the Lamprey
end in most Serpents.
The ■ Skeleton of the 2'atral Lhnls. — The paired-limb
skeleton normally consists of that of an anterior, pectoral,
or thoracic i)air of limbs and that of a posterior or
pelvic pail.' In certain species there may be but a single
pair of limbs, which may either be the pectoral pair, as,
e.g., in the Amphibian genus Siren, or the pelvic pair,
as in the Reptilian genera Bipes, Luilis, and Ophiodes.
Normally each pair consists of diverging apjiendages —
the limb skeleton j'loper — attached to a solid, structure
embracing parts of the trunk, i.e., a limb-root or limb-
girdle. A thoracic limb-girdle may exist in a well-de-
veloped condition without any limbs attached to it — as
in the Slow-Worm (Anyuif), but there is never a well-
developed pelvic girdle without a rudiment of a pelvic
limb.
In all Vertebrates above Fishes the limbs are divisible
into a main part of the limb — arm or leg, — with a distal
part or extremity — " manus " (hand) or " pes " (foot).
|\Ve sometimes find (as in Lialis, I'l/thon, and Balana) a
rudimentary development of the skeleton of the leg
l^without any rudiment of a pes ; but we never find any
rudimentary development »of an arm without anj- rudi-
ments of a manus. In the paired limb, as we have seen,
a limb-girdle may be present without any part of a limb,
but no part of the limb skeleton is ever developed with-
out any limb-girdle. Normally the two limb-girdles are
(attached in a solid manner to the axial skeleton, in dif-
ferent modes.
Normally the pectoral girdle is only thus connected
with the axial skeleton by its ventral part, or with the
(Ventral part of that skeleton, i.e., with the sternum, while
it ends freely above, being dor.sally connected with the axial
skeleton only by soft structures. In Fishes, however, it
may abut by^ its dorsal extremities on each side against
Ihe neural region of the spinal column, as in JRaia
tlavata, or be connected with the head by skeletal struc-
tures, as in Bony I ishes^ e.g.. Perch, Cod, kc, — having all
the time no connexion with the spine by its ventral part.
The pelvic girdle, on the contrary, is normally connected
by its dorsal part solidly with the axial skeleton, though,
as in Fishes, it may not be at all so connected. It never,
however, abuts ventrally against the axial skeleton as does
the thoracic girdle.
Appendicular Skeleton of Vertebrates above Fishes.
*he paired limbs of all aniniah above Fishes are formed on one
IJ'pc, and differ greatly from those of the last-mentioned class. It
iv-iJl be convenient to describe first the general condition of the
limbs in Mammals, Birds, Reptiles, and Amphibians.
Both tlie thoracic aofJ pelvic limbs of these animals are divided,
AS before said, into main parts (arm and leg) and extremity (manns
ind pes). Each main part is further subdivided into a proximal
segment (upper arm and thigh) and a distal segment (fore-arm und
lower part of tlie leg). Each extremity is subdivided into a root
portion (" carpus" and "tarsus "), a middle portion ("metacarpus"
and " metatarsus "), and a terminal portion known as the digits.
Thus the skeleton, e.g., of the hand of Man is comiwscd of — (1)
the root part of the hand or tlie " carpus " (made up of eight small
bones) ; (2) the middle part of the hand or "metacarpus" (made
up of five long bones enclosed in the flesh of. the palm); and (3)
that of the digits, i.e., of the thumb (or " pollcx ") and of the four
£ngerS while the great toe (or " hallux") and the four other toes
ttfc the'" digits" of the pes.
The joints between the proximal and distal segments of the main
part of caeh limb are the elbow and tlie knee, and these are turned
mostly (as in ourselves) in opposite directions. Primitively, liow-
ever, in aU animals and permanently in some {e.g., Tortoises), both
these joints are so conditioned as to open inwards— the elbow and
knee being both directed outwards — wliilo the palm of the niaiins
ttnd the solo of the pes are also both inwards in the embryo, and
in the adult are applied to the ground, tho digits of each extremity
being directed outnaidn. This is the position in which the corre-
spondence in stnicturo between the thoracic and jiclvic limbs is mosfi
obvious, and in it the whole surface of the limbs, which (on accounC
of the muscles there placed) is known as the "extensor" surface,!
is turned outwards, whereas that known as the "flexor" surface is
turned iuwards, while the pollcx of tho manus and tho hallux
of the pes are both in front of theii respective extremities, This
primitive condition is altered during the process of development
of Man and most air-breathing Vertebrates, the knee becoming
bent forwards and the elbow backwards, while the fore-arm is
twisted by a movement called "pronation," so as to enable the
flexor or palmar surface of the manus to be applied in a direction'
parallel to that of the flexor or plantar surface of the pes.
In Bats the thigh is turned backwards, so that the knee bends
backwards like an elbow. AVere it necessary in these animals to
apply the sole of the pes to the ground with the digits forwards
(as in most animals), then a pronation of the lower Teg would ba
needed in them, similar to the pronation of the fore-arm, which,
as above said, takes place in the majority of animals here referred
to — air-breathing Vertebrates.
Thf. Thoracic or Pectoral Limh-Girdle. — The shonlder-girdlo
normally consists of the following bones or cartilages : — (1) a
superior portion, gener.-iUy a more or less broad plate of bone,'
called the scapula, the upper part of which may remain
cartilaginous and more or less distinguishable as a suprascapula ;
ifi) a posterior inferior portion, named the coracoid, which may or
may not be continuous with the scapula, and may have additional
parts or subdivisions distinguished as the coracoid proper, pre-
coracoid, and epicoracoid ; at the junction of the sciijiula and
coracoid there is a concave articular surface— the glenoid cavity,
into which tho pectoral limb is articulated ; (3) an anterior
inferior portion, called the clavicle, which may abut against au
azygous median structure known as au interclavicle, the two
being distinguished from the other elements of the girdle by being
more or less entirely membrane bones.
These structures are found well developed in many Lizards and
quite exceptionally in Monotremcs amongst JIammals. In them'
and in Birds, the coracoids are largely developed, while they remain
mere processes of the scapula in nou-Monotrematous Mammals, and
sometimes are ijuite rudimentary. In such Mammals the pectoral
arch is only completed infcrioaly by the clavicles which abut
against the sternum, but sometimes (as, e.g., in Ungulates) are
altogether absent. The " merrythought " of Birds is a chvicularj
structure. In Amphibians the two halves of the shoulder-girdte
are, each formed of a continuous plate. Some anatomists reckon'
part of this as representing a clavicle, but this determination is'
very doubtful.
The Pelvic Girdle. — This girdle, like tho former one, normally
consists of threo parts — ono dorsal, the iliuni, and two ventral,
whereof tho more anterior is the pubis and the posterior the
ischium, and all these are cartilage bones. The pubis generally
meets ventrally its fellow of the opposite side, but not always so.'
The ischia meet ventrally more rarely. In Birds and certain extinct
Reptiles a third elemeivt, the post-pubis, intervenes between the
ischium (more or less parallel to the latter) and a pubis which may
be fully or only rudimentarily developed. At the junction of tho
ilium and the ventral jwlvic elements the is a concave articular
surface for the pelvic limb,, the acetabulum. An interval between
the pubis and ischium of each side is known as the obturator
foramen. We find amongst Amphibians there is a peculiar cartilage
in the ventral median lino in front of tho pubis, which has been
called the' prepubic cartilage.' In Marsupials and Monotremcs a
bone extends forwards in front of each pubis, and these bones arc
known ns tho warsupi.al bones.
The Limbs. — The general condition of these organs and the bones
supporting them in Vertebrates above Fishes having already been
indicated, it remains but to fill in a few details as to their normal
structure and its principal varieties.
A. Pectoral. — The bono of tho upper arm is called tho humerus,'
and is more or less cylindrical in shape, with an expansion at endi
emk It may, however, bo almost os broad as long, as in the Molo
and some Cetacea. The lower arm is generally furnished with two
bones, thoradiusand the ulna, placed side by side. The ulna ma/'
be more or less abortive, as in Ruminants and lints, but it may
be tho larger of tho two foi-c-arm boues, as is tho case amongst
Birds.
The car-pus may have its parts nioro or less pormanontljj
cartilaginous, as in some Urodeles and Cetaceans.
Taking the carpus of JIan as a typo of the ossified carpus (for
further details, see Anatomy), it consists of tho eight following
short bones arranged in two transverse rows. The proximal row
(that next the arm) includes tho scaphoides, lunarc, cuneilormc,!
and pisiforme, while the distal row (that next the fingers) comprises
the trapeJ.iuni, trajiezoides, niagnnm, and uncifornie— starting, in
each enumerntion, from llio thumb side of tlie manus. The pisi-
forme stands out froni^ho rest, and is reckoned as a acsamoid bono
Balfour, loc cU., |i. 490.
118
SKELETON
'or ossification of a tendon, rather than a ti-ue carpal ossicle. There i
may be an analogous sesamoid ossicle on the other side of the wrist
(on the side of the scaphoid) even in Apes, and this obtains its
maximum in the Mole, where it strengthens and broadens the
manus for digging. The true carpal bones may be more numerous
or less numerous than in Man. Thus there may be an ossicle —
called intermedium or centrale — placed in the mid line between
the two rows of carpals, and this may be double, as in Crypto-
branchtis and some Siberian Urodeles. The unciforme may also
be represented by two bones, as amongst Chelonians ; the pisiforme
is often absent, and also the ti'apezium. Tlie bones of the distal
row are the less constant in number and development, and they
may coalesce with the metacajpals, as in the Chameleon. Their
development is related to that of the digits with which they
articulate. All the true proximal carpal ossicles may unite into
one bone, as in Pteropus, and the whole carpus may be reduced to
two distinct bones, as amongst Birds.
The metacarpus, when fully developed, consists of five rather long
metacarpal bones, as in Man. There may, however, be but two,
and these united into what is called a " canon bone " (as in Sheep,
Deer, &c. ); or there may be but a single one, as in the Horse, —
answering to Man's third metacarpal. They vary in relative size and
proportion in different animals, but are most remarkable for their
length and slenderness in the Bats, while they are much elongated
in the Horse and mo.st Ruminants.
As to the digits, there may bo but a single one, as in the Horse,
or two, as in Ruminants and the Marsupial known as Chceropus.
There may be three, as in the Rhinoceros, the Proteus, and in Seps;
or there may be four. The digits are never certainly more than five
(except by monstrosity), although in the Ichthyosaurus extra mar-
ginal bones along the manus give at least the appearance of more.
When a digit is wanting It is generally the pollex (thumb), as in
Spider Monkeys, but it m;fy be the fifth, as in Pterodactyles, or
both fourth and fifth may be wanting, as in Birds. The pollex may
be more or less opposable to the ^ others, as in Lemurs, most
Monkeys, and in JIau, or two digits may bo opposed to the other
three, as in the Chameleon.
The second digit may be greatly reduced, as in the Potto, or the
third may be disproportionally slender, as in the Aye- Aye, or thick,
as in the Great Armadillo. The digits may be enormously elongated,
as in the Bats, or short, as in the Mole and the Land Tortoises.
They may be very imperfectly developed, as in Birds. They may
be so united by dense tissue as to be quite incapable of separate
motion, as in the Cetaceans. The bones of tho fingers are called
phalanges, and there are always three of them to each digit except
the pollex, which has but two in all Mammals with the exception of
certain Cetaceans, which have more. There may be as many as
fourteen phalanges in one digit in Globiocephalus. The proximal
row of these bones may become anchylosed to the metacarpals, as
in the Three-toed Sloth. In Reptiles the numbers of the phalanges
often increase from two in the pollex to five in the fourth digit, as
in the Monitor. The abortive manus of Birds has at its best but
three digits, with two phalanges to the pollex, three to the index,
and one or two to the third digit. The phalanges are very numerous
in the Ichthyosaurus and Plesiosaurus.
B. Pelvic. — The bone of the thigh is called the femur, and is a
long bone which varies less in its form and proportion in difierent
animals than does the humerus. It is, however, relatively very
short in the Seals, and still shorter in the Ichthyosaurus.
In front of the knee-joint there is generally present a large
sesamoid bone known as the knee-pan or patella. This, however,
may even in Mammals be very small, as in Bats and Seals, or
wanting altogether, as in the Wombat.
The leg below the knee is supported by two long bones, the
tibia and the filnda, placed side by side, whereof the former is
tho more internally situated, the larger generally, and the more
constant. The two bones may anchylose together at each end, as
in the Armadillos, or ttiey may do so only below or only above ; the
two bones may be completely fused together, as in tho Frog. The
tibia may be the only long bone, through the small development of
thefibula, as iii Ruminants and the Horse. The fibula may bo quite
styliform, as in Bii'ds, or it may be developed inferiorly but be
atrophied at its upper end, as in Bats. It may be represented only
by a small ossification outside the lower end of the tibia, as in the
Or, and with this there may exist a styliform rudiment of its upper
part, as in the Elk.
The joint by which the foo*. Tooves on the leg is situated between
the lower end of the leg bones and the tarsus in Mammals and Am-
phibians. In Birds and Reptiles, however, this joint is placed in
the tarsus, the proximal part of which is firmly connected with the
leg, while its distal part is firmly connected with the metatarsus.
The tarsus of Man consists of seven irregularly shaped, more or
less short bones. Of these the astragalus joins the tibia and has
the OS calcis beneath it and the naviculare in front of it, while the
metatarsals are supported (from the great toe outwards) by the
internal, middle, and external cuneiform bones and by the cuboides,
which is connected witl^ the fourth and fifth n.etatarsals.
The tarsus may have its parts more or less permanently cartila-
ginous, as in some Urodeles. The number of its bones, or cartilages,
may be as many as nine, as in the Salamander, or be reduced to
three, as in Proteus, or perhaps to two, as in Ophiodes, Two
tarsal bones (the os calcis and naviculare) may take the form of
long bones, as in Galago and especially in Tarsius. These two bones
and the astragalus may bo represented by a single bone, as in many
Lizards, or may early unite with the tibia, as in almost all Biids.
The astragalus may be represented by two bones, as in Urodeles.
It may have an extra ossicle annexed to it, as in the male
OmitJiorhynehiis and Echidiia. Two extra ossicles may be attachel
to the tibial -side of the foot, as in the true Porcupine ^Cercolabes).
The naviculare may anchylose with one of the distal tarsal bones,
as in the Ox and Deer, where it unites with the cuboid. The distal
bones are less constant- than the others, and they may anchylose
with the metatarsals, as in Birds, the Chameleon, and the Three-
toed Sloth. The cuboid may be represented by two bones, as in
certain Urodeles. The internal cuneiforme may be wanting, as iu
the Ox, or coalesce with the middle one, as in the Horse.
The mctaiarsits when fully developed consists of five rather long
metatarsal boues, as iu Man, and never of more. There may be
but a single developed metatarsal, as in the Horse (the third) and
Charopus{ihe fourth), or two fused together, as in the Sheep, Deer,
kc, or three fused together, as in the Jerboa, or four so fused, as
in many Birds. There may be but two metatarsals well developed,
as in the Hog, or three, as in the Rhinoceros, or four, as in the
Dog. They are never enormously elongated like the metacarpals
of Bats, but they may all be extremely short, as in Land Tortoises
and the Ichthyosaurus.
The digits vary in number, as has just been indicated with
respect to the metatarsal bones sustaining them.
When one digit is wanting it may be the fifth, as in Birds, or
the hallux (first or great toe), as in the Hare. The third and
fourth digits may be only functional ones, as in the Ostiich ; but
the third may abort, leaving only the fourth, as in Chceropjis, or
the fourth, leaving only the third, as in the Horse. Tho fourth
and fifth may be the only functional ones, as in the Kangaroo.
The hallux may be opposable to the other digits, as in Monkeys,
Lemurs, Opossums, and Phalangers ; or the first and fourth digits
may be opposed to the second and third, as iu Parrots ; or the first
and second to the third, fouriT, and fifth, as in the Chameleon.
The phalanges of the digits are in Man's whole class always three
to each digit except the hallux, which (like the pollex) has but two
— save in the Orang, where it may have but one phalanx They
may be much more numerous than in Mammals,' as in the pes of
the Ichthyosaurus and Plesiosaurus. The numbers of the phalanges
as we proceed from the firet to the fifth digit may be 2, 3, 4, 5, 4,
as in Lizards generally, or 1, 2, 3, 3, 2, as in the Salamander, or
2, 2, 3, 4, 3, as in the Frog. In Birds (where the fifth digit is
more develojied) the numbers of the phalanges, proceeding from
the hallux, are mostly 2, 3, 4, 5 ; but they may be 2, 3, 3, 3, as in
the Swifts, or 2, 3, 4, 3, as in the Goatsuckers.
Appendicular Skeleton of Fishes.
The Paired Limbs. — Most Fishes possess two pairs of limbs,
known as the pectoral and ventral fins, which respectively cor-
respond to the pectoral and pelvic limbs of higher Vertebrates.
These limbs are attached to corresponding limb-girdles, whereof
the pelvic girdle is always inferior in development and never attains
the large relative proportions and fixed position of the pelvic girdle
of non-Piscine Vertebrates.
Very often, however, the ventral fins are entirely wanting, and
the pectoral fins are sometimes wanting also. In the latter case
there is usually present more or less of a pectoral limb-girdle,
though it m»y be, as in MurmnopMs, little more than a filament.
In all noR-Piscine Vertebrates the right and left limbs are
symmetrically and equally developed, but in the Flat Fishes
(Pletironcclidae) one pectoral fin may be larger than the other, or
one may disappear, as in Monochirus.
The situation of the paired limbs is, in Elasmobranchs, Ganoids,
and a good many Teleosteans, similar to that they hold in higher
Vertebrates, but in some other Teleosteans (such as the Fishes on
that account called "thoracic ") the ventral fins are placed far for-
wards so as to come immediately behind the pectoral fins, while in
yet other Teleosteans (known on that account as "jugular" Fishes)
they are placed even in front of the pectoral fins.
The pectoral girdle may consist of a simple cartilaginous arch, as
in Elasmobranchs, or it may be composed, as amongst Teleosteans,
of two bones meeting ventrally, each being commonly regarded as
a clavicle which is continued up dorsally to the skull by the inter-
veiition of a supraclavicle and a post-temporal. Besides these there
is a cartilaginous element on each side which usually ossifies in two
pieces, the upper one of which is reckoned as representing a scapula
and the lower one a coracoid. These parts are annexed to the inner
side of the clavicle, where also there is sometimes found a styliform
bone, more dorsally placed, called the post-clavicle.
The pelmc girdle is represented in Elasmobranchs by a transverse
8 K E — S K E
119
cartilaginous structure formed of two separated or two medianly
■uratcd pieces, each of wliich sometimes, as in- C/.imasra and Callo-
rhynchus, shows much resemblaiico to the innominate bone of higlier
Vcitebrates in that it sends up a process simulating (and probably
representing) the iliac element and possesses a sort of obturator
foramen. In Osseous Fishes the pelvio cirdle ia normally repre-
sented by two innominate bones medianly joined, each of which
may, by rare exception, as in Lophius, send up a tall ilium like
process. In no Fish, however, does the pelvis become solidly
united with the spinal column. In the cartilaginous Ganoids it is
very rudimentary, and each lateral portion (which has a slightly-
developed pubic and iliac process) is separated from its fellow on
the opposite side, while in Lepidosiren there is only a single simpla
median cartilage with no jliao process.
The skeleton of the pectoral limb, or Jin, of most Elasmobranchs
consists'of three considerable basal cartilages, placed side by side,
articulating with the pectoral arch, and named the propterygium,
the mesoptcrygium, and the metaptcrygium. Of these the proptery-
gium is proximal or anterior in position. To the distal ends of
these are articulated a number of slender elongated more or leaa
segmented radial cartilages, and to the distal portions of these are
annexed the horny fin-rays which form the solid supports of the
distal portion of the fin.
Sometimes there may be but two and rarely only one basal
cartilage, which one must then be considered as repi\,senting the
whole three conditfercntiated. In Ceratodua there is a single basal
cartilage followed by a series of small cartilages—secondary radial
cartilages diverging from both sides of that series and having fin-
rays annexed to them.- In Lepidosiren the limb skeleton is still
more simpHHed, consisting only of a single scries of short slender
cartilages with small fin-rays attached to one side alone, without
the intervention of any radial cartilages.
In some Bony Fishes {e.g., Polyplcrus', the basal cartilages are
more or less ossified, as are also most of the radials next them, while
to these. small cartilaginous radials arj annexed, which support
ossified fin-rays- In some other Gs.ioids certain of the radial
cartilages articulate directly with the pectoral arch. In the
I Tekostei a few, not above five, raor> or less ossified cartilages lie
side by side and articulate with the pectoral arch, and one or
more rows of small cartilages succeed to them. These two elements
represent the basal and radial cartilages of Elasmobranchs, and to
them are articulated the relatively large fin-rays which makeup
the far greater part of the Teleo'stean pectoral limbs.
The skeleton of the ventral Jin or pelvic limb is almost ahvays
more simple than that of the .pectoral one. Only very rarely, as in
Ceralodus, Lepidosiren, and Callorhynehus aniaretims (see Trans.
Zool. Sac., vol. X. p. 455, and plarte Ixxix. figs. 3 and 4), have they
a close, or pretty close, resemblance. Generally the Elasmobranch
.ventral limb is supported by an elongated cartilage, the basiptery-
giiim, which articulates *ith the pelvic cartilages and bears on its
ventral border a serie? of cartilaginous radialia with which the
fin-rays are connected. In Polyodon folium there are only radials
which support fin-rays but are not themselves supported by any
basipterygium, nor is there any pelvic cartilage. In the Teleoslei
tiie fin-rays are directly attached to the osseous pelvic elements.
The Unpaired Appendicular Elements. — Besides the two pairs of
limbs there are, as has been mentioned, -certain azygous structures
commonly known as the unpaired or azygous fins or limbs. They
are only found in Fishes, and consist of the dorsal, caudal, and anal
fins. These may all run one into the other and form a continuous
fin fringe to the body from the head round the tail and forward
again to the vent, as in Eels and many Gadoid and Blennioid
Fishes. In most cases, however, there are one or two distinct
dorsal fins, and an an^l fin also distinct from the caudal one.
The structure of the dorsal fm in Elasmobranchs is singularly like
that of their paired fins, inasmuch as it is supported by an elongated
or segmented basal cartilage or cartilages, from the dorsal margin
of which radial cartilages (generally elongated, slender, and seg-
mented) proceed, having the fin-rays connected with them distally.
The basal cartilages may or may not be directly connected or become
eouflvuDt with the subjacent spinal skeleton. There may be (as in
the second dorsal of Callorhynchua antarclicus) but a single longi-
tudinal series of mpre or lea eloae»tad ^rti'uj^cN <ide Ijy side, like
radial cartilages devoid of any subjacent basal cartilages- In the
Teleoslei the fan-rayS may be osseous and in the foim of more or less
strong spines, or soft and of a horn-like consistency, and segmented
both vertically and horizontally ; and fin -rays generally consist of two
(right -nd left) halves, which, although closely applied together for
the greater part of their length, iiverge proximally to enibrace the
skeletal element to which they are annexed. These latter elements
in the Teleoslei are small ossicles or chondrifications, termed " inter-
spinous bones or Qartilages." They extend upwards between th«
neural spines of the axial skeleton and the dorsal surface of the body.
Analjins are essfentially similar in composition to dorsal fins.
The caudal Jin is modified according to the condition of th'j
posterior teri.iination of the axial skeleton, the different condition
of which it. fishes has already been noticed (p. 112). Much-modified
axial elements generally form the support of the fin-rays, but the
numinous complex and varied conditions which these parts may pre
S9jt in different forms is a matter of ichthyology, which can hardlj
find a place in a general description t)f the Vertebrate skeleton.
Nature and Origin of Appendicular Skeletal Farts. ^
From the researches of the late Prof. BaKour it appears
that the paired limbs arise as diSerentiatioas of continuous
lateral folds or projections from the surface of the body, and
the azygous fins arise as differentiated projections from its
dorsal and ventral surfaces. Thus all these appendicular
parts may be viewed as different species of one funda-
mental set of parts (pterygia), for the sum total of which
the term " sympterygium " has been proposed (see Trans.
Zool. Soc, vol. X. pp. 481,* 482). The paired limbs and
azygous fins are of similar origin and nature. Separate
narrow solid supports, in longitudinal series, and with
their long axes directed more or less at right angles with
the long axis of the body, were developed in varying
extent in all these four folds or projections. ■ These sup-
ports have, it would appear, very often united to form
basal cartilages, the original single and united condition
persisting in such forms as the ventral fin of Polyodon
and the second dorsal of Callorhynchus, both already,
noticed.
The paired limbs are thus, in all probability, esMntially
peripheral structures which have become more or lesa
closely connected with the axial skeleton. Their proximal
parts uniting and growing inwards have often become
directly connected with parts of the axial skeleton. 'Hhns
the Hmb-girdles seem to have arisen, — namely, as ingrowtha
from the basal cartilages of the limbs ; and" therefore the
whole appendicular skeleton belongs to a different skeletal
category from that of the head and spinal column or axial
endoskeleton.
BibHooraphti.—1>le<:yi.eXTraitiaMraldrAnat. Comp., transl. from the GennMi,
Paris 1»2!>-; Cnvler, iefonj d'Anat. Comp., 2d crt., Paris, 1837, and Rechtrcha
tur I'es Ossemens foisiles, 4th ed., Paris, 1834; Du Blaliivllle, Otleograghte du
SmeMtett du SysCemi DnUaire des Cinq Classes (T^tiinjouir VerUbris, Paris,
1839; R. Owen, Archetypt and Homologies of the Verttbtii' Skeleton, 18-18, 0«
the Nature of Limbs, 1849, and The Anatomy of Vertebral^, 1866 ; T. H. nuxloy,
Uaxvat af the Anatomy of Vertebrate Animals, 1871, " Oli Ceratodua forsCeri : In
Proc. Zool. Soe., 187G and "Pelvis of JIaranials," In Proe. Roy. Soc., vol. xxvlU.,
1879- C. Gegenbaur, Elements of Comparative Anatomy, En(r. transl., 1878. Unter-
suchunaemur Verijl. /lna(.<Caipus und Tarsus), S(-Aii/(cr(;tir(«l </«• irir6e»/inT<«l.
Bruslfiosses der Fische, and urilclcs In the Jrnaisctie Zti'schr., vols- T- and vIL,
and in ilorphologisrhcs Jahrb., vol. II., 1876; W. 11. ¥\a'iicl. Osteology of the ilam-
malia, 1870; A Golto. " BcltrBgo J. vciRl. Morpliol. d- Skclotsystems d. ^^lrbel-
tlltero '• In Archie f. Mikr. Anat., 1877 ; W. K. Parlccr. Monograph on the Shoulder-
Oirdle and Sternum, Kny Soc, 18C8 ; F. llnKour, A Treatise on Comrnratlve
Embrmlogy, 2 vols., 1880-1881 ; J. K. Thackcr, "Median and Paired Fins and
Hn3 0fGanolJs,"in Tram. Conneetieul Mend., vols. lii. and |y,; St George Ulrart,
lessons in Elementary Anatomy, 1873, "On Iho Vertebrate Skeleton," in Tram.
Linn. Soc., vol. xxvll., 1871, and " On the Fins of Flnsmnhriiiiflu, In Trari$
Zoo(. Soc.vol. 3t., 187!l. (STO. M.)
SKELTON, John, an eccentric English scholar and
poet of the l.lth century. Mr Dyce, the editor of his
works, fixes his birth about 14G0. His first essay in verso
was a poem after the manner of Lydgate on the death of
tdward IV. (1483). He lived to pay compliments to
Catherine, wife of Henry YILL, to jeer at the Scotch over
the battle of Flodden, and to make fierce attacks on
Wol-sey, and is supposed to have died in 1529. In
general intellectual force, fierceness of invective, wildncss
of buffoonery, and coarseness of language Skclton bears
some likeness to- Swift. Bat he stands by himself a* on*
of the most eccentric and paradoxical characters in English
literature. He began life apparently as the protcg(S of a
pious, learned, and literary lady, the mother of Henry
VII., who founded St John's College and Christ's College,
Cambridge, and translated devotional works from the
French. He was him.>ielf one of the most notable scholars
of his time, was appointed tutor to Henry VIII., wa»
120
S K I — S K I
hailed by Erasmus (whether ex officio or propter merita is
left to conjecture) as "unum literarum Britanniarura
lumen et decus," was proclaimed poeta kmre:iius by both
universities, and frequently applied this title as well as
that of orator regius to himself without challenge. ' At
about the age of forty he took orders, and was appointed
rector of Diss in Norfolk, where he seems to have spent
the last twenty-five years of his life. Yet this eminent
scholar and churchman is the author of the oldest and the
best drinking song in the English language — the drinking
song in Gammer Gurton's Needle, and of one of the
coarsest poems in any language — The Tunning of Elinor
Bumming. He is the author of a satire against the clergy
of his time — Colin Clout, — unsurpassed in pre-Eeforma-
tion literature for direct and merciless ridicule, and of a
.satire against the great cardinal when at the height of his
greatness — Why come ye not to Couril — boiling over with
ferocious invective and insolent contempt. At the same
time he had such a repute for rough wit and irregularity
of life that he became the hero of a book of "merry
tales." These mythical tales were probably in the mind
of the historian who has described Skelton as a "ribald
buffoon," "a profligate and ill-living wretch." Whether
the real Skelton deserved such epithets is doubtful ; his
verse undoubtedly contains rwuch that may fairly be
described as ribaldry and buffoonery. It has not a trace
of the chivalrous spirit of Chaucer, and his most character-
istic form, known as Skeltonical verse, is wayward and
unconventional — adopted as if in mad defiance of regular
metre. Still, as Skeltou himself claimed for it, "it has
in it some pith."
"Though my rj-nie be ragged,
Tattered, and jagged.
Rudely rain-beaten,
Kusty and moth-eaten.
If ye take well therewith
It bath in it some pith."
Colin Clout, Why come ye not to Court 1 and The Book
of Philip Sparrow — which Coleridge pronounced "an
exquisite and original poem " — are written in this metre.
The Bowge (ship) of Court, a satirical vision of personified
abstractions, is more conventional in form, and was prob-
ably one of his earlier works. Both it and his interlude
Magnificence show great power in the vivid description
of character.
SKIMMEE, the English name bestowed by Pennant ^
in 1781 on a North-American bird which had already
been figured and described by Catesby {B. Carolina, i. pi.
90) as the " Cut-water," — as it appears still to be called
on some parts of the coast," — remarkable for the unique
formation of its bill, in which the maxilla, or so-called
upper mandible, is capable of much vertical movement,
while the lower mandible, which is considerably the
longer of the two, is laterally compressed so as to be as
thin as a knife-blade. This bird is the Rhynchops nigra
of Linnaeus, who, however, united with it what proves to
be an allied species from India that, having been indicated
many years before by Petiver {Gazoph. Nafurie, tab. 76,
fig. 2), on the authority of Buckley, was only technically
named and described in 1838 by Swainson {Anim. Mena-
geries, p. 360) as R. alhicollis. A third species, R. flaci-
rostris, inhabits Africa ; and examples from South America,
though by many writers regarded as identical with R.
nigra, are considered by Mr Saunders (Proc. Zool. Society,
1882, p. 522) to form a fourth, the R. melanura of Swain-
son {lit supra, p. 3 to) All these resemble one another
* " I call it Skimmer, from the manner of its collecting its food
with the lower mandible, as it flies along the surface of the water "
{Qen. of Birds, p. 52).
' Other English names applied to it in America are "Razorbill,"
''Sci*i»iorbill." .nnd "Shearwater"
very closely, and, apart from their singularly-formed bill,
have the structure and appearance of Terns {q.v.). Some
authors make a family of the genus Rhynchops, but it
seems needless to remove it from the Laridx (Gull. vol.
xi. p. 274). In breeding-habits the Skimmers thoroughly
agree with the Terns, the largest species of which group
they nearly equal in size, and indeed only seem to differ
from them in the mode of taking their food, which of
course is correlated with the extraordinary formation of
their bill. (a. n.)
SKIN DISEASES. These form a large and important
class. In number they are very extensive, owing to the
varied forms of morbid change which the skin texture
may undergo, no less than to the different portions of the
structure and its appendages which may be specially
affected. Further, the modifications of the typical forme
of these diseases which are to be observed have led to
arrangements and classifications of very complex character
and multiplied greatly their nomenclature. Skin diseases
are regarded by the physician as of great importance, not
only from the fact that morbid action in this texture must
have a powerful influence on the general health and may
bring in its train other maladies, but also because they
are not unfrequently themselves the expression of constitu-
tional conditions, inherited or acquired, the recognition of
which is essential to their effectual treatment. In order to
clearness of description it is necessary to make use of some
method of classification. Various arrangements have been
adopted by writers on the subject, but the following
appears sufficient for the present purpose : ' —
I. Disorders of the secreting apparatus (of the seba-
ceous and sweat glands) ;
IL Disorders specially relating to niitrition (hypertro-
phies ; atrophies ; new formations ; pigmentary changes) ;
III. Inflammatory affections (erythematous ; papular ;
vesicular ; pustular ; squamous or scaly) ;
IV. Neuroses (nervous disorders) ;
V. Parasitic affections (animal ; vegetable).
I. DiSOEDERS OF THE SECRETING APPARATUS. (1) Of
the Sweat Glands. — The chief morbid conditions are exces-
sive sweating (hyperidrosis) and foetid sweating (bromi-
drosis). Excessive sweating is a syr"ptom observed in
various diseases, such as phthisis and rheumatic fever, but it
may exist apart from such conditions, and either be general,
affecting the whole body, or confined to a part, such as the
axillae, head, hands, feet, or, as in some rare instances, the
one half of the body. Some persons habitually perspire,
often to a great extent, on making any effort, yet never
appear to suffer in health, although the' discomfort is
considerable. Excessive perspiration . may often be pre-
vented by the habitual use of the cold bath, and by tonics,
such as iron, quinine, strychnia, &c. Locally, the use of
astringent lotions of vinegar or a weak solution of lead
will also be of service. Bromidrosis or foetid sweating is
often associated with the former condition, and it too may
be general or local. It most frequently affects the feet,
especially in those who have much fatigue, and is a source
of much personal discomfort as well as of annoyance to
others. It is apparently due to rapid decomposition in the
perspiration which has saturated the stockings, and for its
treatment it is essential that these should be frequently
changed and the feet washed several times a day, dried
carefully, and dusted with some antiseptic powder; such
as boracic or salicylic acid mixed with starch or French
chalk. Hebra recommends the application to the feet of
a composition of equal parts of olive oil and litharge
plaster spread upon linen and used twice a day.
(2) Of. (he Sebaceous Glands. — Sehorrhoea is a term
' For the structure of the skin Fee Anatomy, vol. i. p. 897.
SKIN DISEASES
121
applied to describe an accumulation on the skin of the
normal sebaceoum secretion mixed up with dirt and form-
ing scales or a distinct incrustation. On the head, where
it is commonly seen, it may interfere with the nutrition
of the hair and cause partial baldness. A form of this
disease occurs in young infants. The main , treatment is
local, consisting in thorough cleansing of the parts. The
crusts may be softened with oil and the affected skin
regularly washed with soft soap and rectified spirit. The
sebum frequently accumulates in the sebaceous ducts,
giving rise to the minute black points so often noticed on
,the face, back, and chest in young adults, to which the
term comedones is applied. A form of this disorder, but
of larger size and white appearance, is termed milium.
These affections may to a large extent be prevented by
strict attention to ablution and brisk friction of the skin,
■which will also often- remove them when they begin to
appear. The. retained secretion may be squeezed out or
, evacuated by incision and- the skin treated with some
simple sulphur application.
Acne is an eruption produced by inflammation of the
sebaceous glands and hair follicles. It may occur in con-
nexion with the preceding or independently, and shows
itself in the form of red pimples or papules which may
become pustular and be attended with considerable
surrounding irritation of the skin. This affection is like-
wise most common in early adult life, and occurs on the
chest and back as well as on the face, where it may, when
of much extent, produce considerable disfigurement. It
is apt to persist for mouths or even years, but usually in
time disappears entirely, although slight traces may
remain in the form of scars or stains upon the skin.
Eruptions of thia kind are sometimes produced by the
continued internal use of certain drugs, such as the iodide
or bromide of potassium. The treatment is similar to that
for the previous affection, viz., brisk friction of the skin,
short of producing irritation, and the application of a
sulphur lotion or ointment. Attention .to the general
health, by suitable diet, tonics, exercise, &c., is a necessary
adjuvant. A variety of this malady, to which the name
acne rosacea is given, is a more severe and troublesome
disorder than that already mentioned. It is characterized
by great redness of the nose and cheeks, accompanied
with iiodular enlargements on the surface of the skin,
which produce marked disfigurement. Although often
86en in persons who live too freely, it is by, no means
confined to such, but may arise in connexion with disturb-
ances of the general health, especially of the function of
digestion, and in females with menstrual disorders. It is
apt to be exceedingly intractable to treatment, which is
here too, as in the preceding form, partly local and partly
constitutional. Of internal remedies preparations of
iodine and of arsenic are sometimes found of service.
Molluscum contagiosum belongs to this class of skin
diseases. It consists of an enlargement of the sebaceous
glands and occlusion of the ducts, and is seen most
commonly on the face, body, or hands in children, or on
the jbreasts.in women. It is said to be contagious) but it
is a rare form of skin disease.
II. £)isoRDEns AFFECTING Nutrition. — (1) Hypertro-
phies.— A com (olavus) is a local thickening of the skin,
generally occurring on the toes. There is hypertrophy of
Idle epidermis, and in the centre of the com there is usually*
a still denser mass, which, pressing down upon the subjacent
sensitive true akin, causes pain and may give rise to
inflammation and suppuration in the part. When situated
between the toes the coin is softer than when on the free
surface of the foot. The treatment consists in maceration
of the hardened .skin and the use of the knife or strong
caustics. Salicylic acid coraiiined with ether and collodion,
L'>— 7*
painted over tne part, is said to be useful in the case of
soft corns.
A wart (verruca) is an excrescence from the surface of the
skin due to hypertrophy of the papillary layer of the
cutis and of the epidermis. This form of growth may
also occur on mucous membranes. Warts occasionally
disappear spontaneously, or they may be excised, or care-
fully touched with some strong caustic dcid or alkali.
Ichthyosis or xeroderma consists of a general thicken-
ing of the whole skin and marked accumulation of the
epidermic elements, with atrophy of the sebaceous glands,
giving rise to a hard, dry, scaly condition. It generally
first appears in infancy, and is probably congenital. It
differs in intensity and in distribution in different cases,
and is generally little amenable to any but palliative
remedies, such as the regular application of oily sub-
stances, although it is not a fatal malady.
For elephantiasis Arabum, see vol. viii. p. 126.
(2) Atrophies. — The chief of these relate to the hair.
Canities or whitening of the hair consists in the non-
formation of the pigmentary matter which is normally
present in the substance of the hair, and occurs generally
as a slow senile change. It may, however, take place
prematurely, in which case it is often hereditary ; or it
may be associated with degenerative changes taking place
in the system. It is occasionally seen to occur temporarily
iu very young persons in connexion with some defective
condition of the general health. Its development suddenly
has not unfrequently been observed as the result of some
strong mental emotion.
Alopecia, or baldness, is the loss of hair, which is most
commonly a senile change and irremediable, or on the
other hand may be premature, occurring either heredi-
tarily or in connexion with some previous constitutional
morbid state (e.g., after fevers or other blood poisons), in
which latter case it may be only, although not, always,
temporary. It appears to depend upon atrophic changes
affecting the hair follicle, including obliteration of the
capillary vessels, — the result of which is that strong hairs
cease to be produced, and only feeble, short, and thin hair
(lanugo) is formed, which soon falls off and is not repro-
duced. Usually the whole skin of the hairy scalp under-
goes thinning and other atrophic changes as well as
the hair follicle. Sometimes the loss- of hair occurs in
distinct circular patches (alopecia areata), which tend to
spread until the whole scalp is denuded. The treatment
of temporary or premature baldness bears reference
especially to any known conditions affecting the general
health ; and tonics, baths, and other means to promote a
vigorous skin function are useful. Stimulating liniments
containing spirits, and cantharides, the regular cleausing
and moderate brushing of the parts, the application to
the scalp of the constant current of electricity, and various
other remedies appear to be of service in promoting the
growth of hair.
(3) JVew Formations. — (a) Lupus is a disease character-
ized by the formation in the skin of tubercles or nodules
consisting of new coll growth which has no tendency to
further development, but to retrograde change, leading to
ulceration and destruction of the skin and other tissues in
which' it exists, and the subsequent formation of per-
manent white scars. Lupus vulgaris is most ' commonly
seen in early life, and occurs chiefly on the face, about the
noso, chocks, ears, &c., but it may also affect the skin of
the body or limbs. It first shows itself in the form of
small, slightly prominent nodules covered with thin crusts
or scabs. These may bo absorbed and removed at ono
point, but they tend to spread at another. Their dis-
appearatica is followed by a Trhite permanent cicatrix.
The disease may be superficial in which case both the
122
SKIN DISi^ASES
ulceration and resulting scar are sli'-ht (Inpus non-
ixedens) ; or, on the other hand, the ulcerative process
faay be deep and extensive, destroying a large portion of
the" tissues of the nose or cheeks, and leaving deep marks
with much disfigurement {lupus exedens). Another form
of this disease, termed lupus erythemalosus, is of compara-
tively mild character, and occurs on the nose and adjacent
portions of the cheeks in the form of red patches covered
with thin scales, underneath which are seen the widened
openings of the sebaceous ducts, — this variety of the disease
affecting specially that portion of the skin texture. It is
very slow in disappearing, but does not leave any marked
scar. Lupus is generally more frequently seen in women
than in men, and it is held to be connected with a
scrofulous constitution. Its treatment bears reference
especially to this condition (see Sckofula). In the
superficial variety the application of soothing ointments
■when there is much redness, and Squire's method of slight
linear incisions to destroy the increased blood supply, are
often serviceable. In the ordinary form the great principle
of local treatment is to remove the new tissue growth.
This is most readily done either by solid points of caustic,
of which the nitrate of silver is perhaps the best, thrust
into the tubercles to break them up, or by means of a
scoop (Volkmann's spoon) to scrape away the diseased
masses. Only by such means can the ulceration be
arrested and healing brought about.
(6) Leprosy {elephantiasis Grxcorum) may be regarded
as belonging to this class of skin diseases, inasmuch as it
consists in a new growth of cell material, like lupus, but
with less tendency to disintegration and with a wider dis-
tribution affecting the skin, mucous membranes, nerves,
&c., all over the body. For its history and pathology
eee vol. xiv; p. 468 sq. Leprosy is not amenable to treat-
ment, beyond attempts at palliation of the symptoms and
by general hygiene.
(4) Pigmentary Changes. — Chloasma is an abnormal
pigmentation, in the form of brown patches, either gene-
rally diffused or confined to one part, such as the fore-
head and face, and occasionally seen in women suffering
from uterine ailments^ Addison's disease is connected
with a morbid condition of the siiprarenal capsules (see
Pathology), and is accompanied with general bronz-
ing of the skin, together with ansemia and great and
increasing proetratioiu Leucoderma is a change in the
pigmentation of the skin, whereby it becomes white in
patches, with a tendency to spread and affect almost the
whole surface, until a few dark areas alone remain to
represent the original appearance of the skin. It is some-
times called white leprosy, but has no relation to that
disease, nor is it of any special significance as regards the
health. Albinism is an entire absence of pigment from the
hair, skin, eyes, &c. The hair is usually white, and the skin
exceedingly pale ; and the eye has a pinkish appearance.
This condition is congenital. It occasionally exists to a
partial extcLt in any of the textures named.
III. Inflammatory Skin Affections. — These embrace
the following chief varieties: — (1) diffuse (erythema);
i2) papular (lichen) ; (3) catarrhal (eczema) ; (4) vesicular
herpes, pemphigus); (5)- pustular (impetigo); and (6)
scaly (psoriasis, pityriasis).
(1) Diffuse. — This variety includes erythema (see
Erysipelas) and its forms, particularly erythema nodosum,
which consists of spots and patches of dark red colour and
slightly elevated, appearing on the front of the legs and
back cf the arms in young persons, mostly females. The
patches continue for a number of days and then become
fainter. It is supposed to be connected with rheuinatism,
joint pains not unfrequently accompanying it. Urticaria
er nettle-rash is a diffuse redness of the skin, accompanied
with wheals of raised and paler appearance, not unlike tlief
effect produced by the sting of nettles or of insects;, and
attended with great irritation and itching. Certain kinds
of food, such as fruit and fish, produce this eruption in
some persons, as also some drugs, such as opium. It is
best treated by some soothing application, such as a
solution of sal volatile, to which a little chloral has been
added, and by attention to the state of the alimenta.y
canal. Roseola, which consists in the appearance of rose-
coloured spots upon the body, is fcequentiy seen in
children, and is apt to be mistaken for measles, but has
none of the accompanying febrile or catarrhal symptoms of
that disorder, and is of brief duration.
(2) Papular. — Lichen, an eruption consisting of small,
thickly-set, and slightly-elevated red points, more or less
widely distributed over the body, and in the young some-
what resembling scarlet fever, but with only slight febrile
symptoms and no sore throat, usuilly results from digestive
derangements, but apparently may also arise from exposure
to the sun, and it lasts but a short time. Some forms,
however {e.g., lichen ruber), are of chronic character and
difficult of treatment. The ordinary form requires little
beyond attention to the digestive organs and the appli-
cation of a soothing lotion or powder. The chronic
forms are best treated by the administration of arsenic.
Strophulus, or tooth-rash, or, as it is popularly termed,
"red gum," an affection very common in young infants,
belongs to this class of skin disorders.
(3) Catarrhal. — Eczema, one of the most common and
important of all skin diseases, consists of an inflammation
of the true skin, of cat-arrhal character, together with the
formation of papules, vesicles, or pustules, attended with
more or less discharge, and with itching and other
symptoms of irritation. It may be either acute or chronic,
and presents itself in a variety of forms. As regards
causation, it appears impossible to assign any one condition
as giving rise to this disease: It occurs frequently in
persons to all appearance in perfect health, and it may in
such cases be a permanent or recurring affection during a
whole lifetime. Again it is undoubtedly found in persons
who possess a morbid constitution, such as the gouty or
scrofulous ; but apart from any such evident associations
it seems in some instances itself distinctly hereditary.
Sometimes it is set up as the result of local or general
irritation of the skin in certain occupations, and it may
exist in connexion with the presence of some other skin
disease. It is much more common in men than in women.
Numerous varieties of eczema are described, according to
its site and duration ; only the more important of these
can be alluded to. Acute eczema shows itself by redness
and sweUing of the skin, with the formation of minute
vesicles, and attended with severe heat and irritation.
Should the vesicles rupture, a raw moist surface is formed,
from which a colourless discharge oozes, which when
it accumulates forms thin crusts. The attack may be
general over the greater portion of the body, or it may be
entirely localized to a limb or other part. It usually lasts
for a few weeks and then passes off, leaving, however, a
liability to recurrence. Such attacks may occur as a result
of digestive derangements, or in persons of rheumatic or
gouty habit, and they tend to appear at certain seasons,
such as springtime. They are usually best treated by
attention to the general health, and by a simple and
carefully-regulated diet, while locally some soothing
application, such as a weak lead lotion or a dusting
powder of zinc, starch, or boracic acid, will be found of
benefit _ Chronic eczer.ia shows itself in various forms, of
which we cote the most common. In eczema rub»-um the
disease affects a part, very often a Umb, as a severe form
of inflammation, with great redness, and weeping or oozing
SKIN DISEASES
123
of serous matter from the raw surface. It gives rise to
great irritation and pain, and may cause considerable
disturbance of the general liealth. It may last for years,
with intervals of partial recovery, but easily recurring.
The skin of the limb becomes in time thickened and the
limb itself much swollen. In dry eczetua the skin, though
irritable, remains dry and scaly. In pustular eczema, or
eczema impetigLtiodes, in addition to the cutaneous inflam-
mation there occur pustules which break and the
purulent matter forms yellow crusts upon the skin.
This form is very common on the heads of young
children during the period of dentition. The treat-
ment of chronic eczema depends in great measure upon
the form it assumes. Where there exists much irritation.,
soothing lotions or applications similar to those required
for acute eczema are necessary ; but where irritation has
subsided, stimulating ointments, such as those of zinc
or white precipitate, are often of service. Constitutional
remedies, such as iron, arsenic, Ac, are an important and
often essential part of successful treatment.
(4) Vosicular. — Herpes is an inflammation of the true
skin, attended with the formation of isolated or grouped
vesicles of various sizes upon a reddened base. They
contain a clear fluid, and either rupture or dry up. Two
well-marked varieties of herpes are frequently met with.
(a) In herpes labialis et nasalis the eruption occurs about
the lips and nose. It is seen in cases of certain acute
febrile ailments, such as fevers, inflammation of the lungs,
or even in a severe cold. It soon passes off. (b) In
herpes ioster, zona, or shingles, the eruption occurs in the
course of one or more cutaneous nerves, often on one side
of the trunk, but it may be on the face, limbs, or other
parts. It may occur at any age, but is probably more
frequently met with in elderly people. The appearance
of the eruption is usually preceded by severe stinging
neuralgic pains for several days, and, not only during 'the
continuance of the herpetic spots, but long after they have
dried up and disappeared, these pains sometimes continue
and give rise to great suffering. The disease seldom
recurs. The most that can be done for its relief is to
protect the parts • with cotton wool or some dusting
powder, while the pain may be allayed by opiates or
bromide . of potassium. Quinine internally is often of
service.
fe'mphiffus~ consists in large blebs upon a red base.
They contain clear or yellowish fluid. This disease
appears to show itself most frequently on the bodies and
limbs of unhealthy or neglected children. The blebs give
use to much irritation, and when they burst leave raw
tilcerated surfaces which are slow of healing. One variety
of this malady (pemphii/us foliaceus) affects the entire
skin of the body, from which there exudes a constant
discharge. This form is apt sooner or later to prove fatal
from its exhausting effects. The treatment is mainly con-
stitutional,— by good nourishment, iron, <tc.
(5) Pvstular. — Impetiyo, . consisting of small pustules
sitiiated upon a reddened base, mostly occurs in children.
There appears to be a contagious form of this malady.
Ecthyma consists of large pustules of similar character on
the body and limbs. The treatment of these ailments
requires special attention to nutrition, sinco they usually
occur in low gtates of health.
(6) Squamous or Scaly. — Psoriasis, an inflammatory
affection of the true skin, attended with the formation of
red spots or patches, which are covered with white silvery
scales, may affect any portion of the surface of the body,
but is most common about the elbows and knees, and on
the head. There is as a rule comparatively little irrita-
tion except at the outset, but there is an extensive shed-
ling. of the scales from the affected spots. A'a^ieties of
this disease are described in relation to the size and dis-
tribution of the patches. The causes of psoriasis have
given rise to 'much discussion, and, while some authorities
regard its appearance as in many instances connected
with some constitutional morbid state, such as gout,
rheumatism, ic, the majority deny any such relationship,
and mention hereditary influence as the only recognizable
cause, although it must be admitted that even this
evidence is wanting in a large number of cases. 'The
disease appears to be consistent with continued good
health. It is usually obstinate to treat, and may, with
intervals of comparative immunity, last a lifetime. The
remedies most serviceable are arsenic internally and the
, application externally of preparations of tar. Recently
the employment of chrysophanic acid as an ointment or in
solution has been resorted to with considerable success.
Pityriasis, a superficial inflammation of the skin, ■with'
the formation of minute branny scales, occurs most com-
monly on the head, and is of chronic duration. The
remedies most useful are alkaline lotions and tar prepara-
tions. A variety of this disease (pityriasis rubra) affects
the whole body, and "is most intractable to treatment.
IV. Neuroses {Nei-vcnts AJ'ections), — Various disorders
of nutrition of the skin occur in persons suffering from
organic nervous diseases, such as bedsores, atrophic
changes, eruptions, &c., but these belong to the symptoms
of the several diseases with which they are associated.
The most common of the neuroses of the skin is probably
pruritus, which is an ailment characterized by intense
itching of the surface of the body. It may occur in con-
nexion with other morbid conditions, such as .jaundice,
diabetes, digestive disorders, <tc., or as the result of the
irritation produced by lice or other skin parasites. The'
most serious form is pruritus senilis, which affects 'old
persons, and is often a cause of great suffering, depriving
the patient of sleep (the malady being specially trouble-
some during the night). In such cases it is probably due
to atrophic changes in the skin. No eruption is visible,
except such marks as are produced by scratching. The
treatment consists in the removal of any apparent cause,
and measures to strengthen the system, such ag the use of
quinine, iron, &c Soothing lotions composed of solutions
of alkalis conjoined with chloral, opium, hydrocyanic acid,
&c., may be applied to the affected skin at bedtime.
V. Paeasitio Diseases. — (1 ) Aiiimal. — The following are
the chief animal parasitic diseases. Phthiriasis is produced
by the presence of lice (pediculi), of which there are threo
varieties, infesting respectively the head, body, and pubis»
The cause is in most instances uncleanliness, but occasion-
ally in the aged, and in persons suffering from chronic
diseases, there appears to be a liability to the development
of pediculi, notwithstanding every care to prevent it. The
irritation produced by the parasite and the scratching
thus occasioned may give rise to abrasions of the skin and
eczematous conditions. The treatment consists in thorough
cleansing of the parts and the use of parasiticides, such
as rod or white precipitate, carbolic lotions (one in twenty),
or a decoction or ointment of stavesacre. Where clothing
is infested it should be destroyed or subjected to a strong
heat to get rid both of the parasites and their ova. Scabiet
or itch is a skin affection due to the Acanis scahiei (see
Mite). The female' insects burrow into the upper layers
of the skin and deposit their eggs in the tract thus made;
Great irritation of the skin is set up, and scratching pro-
duces eruptions which aggravate the condition, especially
at night. The most frequent sites are the parts between
the fingers, or the wrists, Imt by scratching the di.seaso
may be conveyed to any part of the body, and in extreme
cases the greater portion of the surface of the trunk and
limbs may be involved. In infants the feet and buttocku
124
3 K 1 — S K 1
are the parts which suffer. The eruption in mild cases has
at first the appearance of small raised vesicles with clear
fluid, but it may become pustular or eczematous, and
extensive excoriations may result. The treatment consists
in thorough cleansing of the skin and the inunction of
some form of parasiticide, — sulphur ointment being on the
•whole the best. The application should be discontinued
after a few days, otherwise irritation may be produced by
its use.
(2) Vegetable parasites consist of fungous growths in
the texture of the skin and hair, which are characterized
mioroseopically by minute round bodies or spores often
coalesced into clusters or bead-like arrangements, and
jointed filaments or mycelium of elongate and branching
form. They ara readily detected by reraoviTig a hair, or
scraping a portion of the affected skin, treating it with a
strong alkaline .solution, and submitting it to microscopic
examination, by which the slight differences in form and
arrangement of the varieties of the parasite can be easily
made out. The common name " tinea "is applied to these
parasitic affections. Tinea tonsurans, or ringworm (para-
site Tricophyton tonsurans), is a very common form of
parasitic disease. It occurs as a result of contagion in
the heads of children, and begins as circular patches ■n-ith
a scaly appearance and 'red border, which tend to spread.
The hair at the part becomes thin and brittle and is easily
removed. It is often extremely obstinate to treatment,
and numerous agents have been proposed as specifics, not
one of which, however, appears to possess infallible
virtues. Among the best are oleate of mercury (5 to 10
per cent.) and other mercurial preparations, all which, how-
ever, must be used with care, and carbolic or sulphurous
acid with glycerin, iodine, cantharides, ifec; but isolation
of the patient as far as possible, together with strict
medical supervision, are essential for the effectual treat-
ment of this disorder. Tinea sycosis, or ringworm affect-
ing the beard, and tinea circinata, or ringworm affecting
the body, require to be dealt with in a similar manner.
Tinea favosa, or favus (parasite Achorion Sckijnleinii), is less
frequently seen than the preceding. It occurs mostly on
the scalp in unhealthy and neglected children, but it may
affect the skin in any part of the body. It is characterized
by round, yellow, sulphur-coloured, cup-shaped spots or
crusts, which, when occurring extensively upon the scalp,
have a peculiar mousy odour. It is very destructive of
hair growth, and is most difficult to cure. The best treat-
ment is removal of the hairs by epilation, and the employ-
ment of some of the parasiticides already mentioned,
together with attention to the healthy nutrition of the
patient. Tinsa versicolor, or pityriasis versicolor (parasite
Microsporon furfur), is a brown-coloured rash of scaly char-
acter occurring mostly in the form of spots or patches
on the skin of the trunk, particularly on the front of the
chest or between the shoulders, but sometimes also upon
the arms and legs. It affects adults in whom the skin-
function is not sufficiently attended to, or those who
are in ill-health. The parasite affects the epidermic cells,
and i readily made out by the microscope, thus enabling
the disease to be distinguished from other skin disorders
to which it often bears resemblance. It is best treated
by the regular washing and brisk friction of the parts,
and by the use of some of the applications above referred
to. , (j. o. A.)
SKINNER, JoHjf (1721-1807), author of Tullochgorum
and The Eivie wi' the Crookit Horn, was an Episcopalian
minister in the parish of Longside, Aberdeenshire. He
held this charge for more than sixty-four years. The son of
an Aberdeenshire schoolmaster, born at Balfour in 1721, he
had been intended for the Presbyterian ministry, but, after
passing through Marischal College, Aberdeen, and teaching
for a lew years, he took orders in the Episcopal Churcli,
and was appointed to the charge of Longside in 1742.
There was a considerable remnant of Episcopacy in Aber-
deenshire, but very soon after Skinner joined it it became,
in consequence of the Jacobite rebellion in 1745, a much
persecuted remnant. The young pastor's church was
burnt ; his house was plundered ; for some years he had
to minister to his congregation by stealth; and in 1753
information was lodged that he had broken the law by
officiating to more than four persons besides his owu
family, and he suffered imprisonment for six months.
After 1760 the penal laws were less strictly enforced,
but throughout the century the lot of the Episcopalian
ministers in Scotland was far from comfortable, and only
the humblest provisions for church services were tolerated.
Skinner's robust nature, however, made light of all priva-
tions ; and his kindliness, humour, conviviality, ready wit,
and generous force of character made him personally a
favourite far and near outside the bounds of his own
denomination. In 1789 he was presented with the
freedom of the town in whose jail he had been a prisoner
for conscience sake. It is by his songs, limited in
quantity, but some of them of the very highest quality,
that Skinner is generally known. An interesting corre-
spondence took place between him and Burns, who con-
sidered Tullochgorum " the best Scotch song Scotland ever
saw," and addressed the reverend poet with touching
respect. His best songs had stolen into -print ; a col-
lection was not published till 1809, under the title of
Amusements of Leisure Hours. Such literally they seem
to have been. Throughout his life he was a vigorous
student, and in spite of his scanty resources established a
more than tocal reputation for scholarship, while, according
to his latest biographer, he had a paramount influence on
the doctrinal views of his clerical brethren in the north.
He published in 1788 an Ecclesiastical History of Scot-
land, in the form of letters ; and other works in the same
form, which best suited his easy unaffected strength, were
collected and published by his son after his death (June
1807), having previously had a wide circulation, in manu-
script. His prose style has the happiness, ease, and lucid
force of a natural master of language. The reasoning of
his answer to Beattie's Essay on Truth is an evidence of
his robust clearness of intellect.
A minutely accurate biography of Skinner, in connexion with
the history of Episcopacy in the north of Scotland,' was published
by the Rev. \V. Walker in 1883. An edition of his songs and
poems by Mr H. G. Reid, 1859, contains an interesting memoir.
SKIPTON, an ancient market-town in the West Riding
of Yorkshire, is situated on the river Aire, on the Leeds
and Liverpool Canal, and on the Midland Railway, 9 miles
north-west of Keighley and 15 south-east of Settle. It ia
substantially built of stone. • The strong castle built by
Robert de Romille in the time of the Conqueror was partly
demolished in 1649, but was restored by the countess of
Pembroke. Of the ancient building of De Romille al!
that now remains is the western doorway of the inner
castle. In the castle grounds are the ruins of the ancient
parish church of St John. The church of the Holy
Trinity, in the Decorated Gothic, was also partly demolished
during the Civil War, but was restored by the countess
of Pembroke, and again underwent renovation in 1854.
The free grammar school was founded in 1548 by William
Ermysted, a canon of St Paul's, London. The town has a
considerable general trade. The population of the urban
sanitary district (area 4245 acres) in 1871 was 6078 and
in 1881 it was 9091.
Skipton was the capital of the ancieht district of Craven. At
the Norman accession it became part of the jicssessions of Earl
Edwin, and was granted to Robert de Romille, who built tlieca.slle
about the end of the rcifni of William. Subsequently it went to
S K 1 — S K D
125
the Albemarle family, but was a^ain vested in the crown, and
EJward II. bustoived it on Piers do Gaveston. In 1311 it came
into the possession of the Cliffords. The cnstlo was taken by the
Parliamentary forces in 1645 and demolished in 1649.
SKITTLES. This English game, which somewhat
resembles American bowls (see vol. iv. p. 180), was
formerly known as Kails (Fr. quilles), and first dame into
vogue in England in the 14th century. Nine large oval-
beaded pins with flat bottoms, and made of a hard wood,
are set up on a wooden frame, three pins square on each
side. An angle and not an even side of the said square is
presented towards the player, who stands at the distance of
21 feet. There may be one or two players a-side ; and
the object of each side is to knock down, or "floor," the
greatest number of pins in the least possible number of
throws, which are generally two or three, though they may
extend to five, according to agreement. The roundish
ball uspd- for throwing weighs from 8 to 14 ft), and in
fair playing only one step forward is allowed in delivery.
A firm grasp should be taken of the ball in a slightly slanting
position, so as to strike the fore pin on the shoulder and
then reach the back ones. A player who clears the board
iu two throws may be considered a good-all-round one. - In
different localities there are minor variations in plajfing
the game.
SKUA,' the name for a long while given to certain of
the Laridx (see Gull, vol. xi. p. 274), which suflSciently
differ in structure, appearance, and habits to justify their
separation as a distinct genus, Stercorarius (Lesiris of.
some writers), or even Subfamily, Stercorariinse. Swift of
flight, powerfully armed, but above all endowed with
extraordinary courage, they pursue their weaker cousins,
making the latter disgorge their already-swallowed prey,
which is nimbly caught before it reaches the water ; and
this habit, often observed by sailors and fishermen, has
made these predatory and parasitic birds locally known as
"Teasers," "Boatswains,"- and, from a misconception of
their intent, " Dunghunters." On land, however, whither
they resort to breed, they seek food of their own taking,
whether small mammals, little birds, insects, or berries ;
but even here their uncommon courage is exhibited, and
they will defend their homes and offspring with the utmost
spirit against any intruder, repeatedly shooting down on
man or dog that invades their haunts, while every bird
almost, from an Eagle downwards, is repelled by buffets
or something worse.
The largest species known is the Stercorarius calarrhactes of ornith-
ologists— the "Skooi" or "Bonxie" of the Slietlandcrs, a bird in
eize equalling a Herring-Gull, Lams argentatus. The sexes do not
differ appreciably in colour, which is of a dark brown, somewhat
lighter beneath ; but the priujaries have at the base a patch of
white, visible even when the wings are closcil, and forming, when
they are spread, a conspicuous band. The bill and feet are black.
This is a species of comparatively limited range, breeding only in
some two or three localities in the Shctlands, about half a dozen in the
Fieroes,' and hardly more in Iceland. Out of the breeding-season
it shows itself in most parts of the North Atlantic, but never seems
^ Thus written by Hoier {circa 1604) as that of a Fa:ro6se bird
(hodie Skiiir) an example of which he sent to Clusius (Exotic.
Auclarium, p. 367). The word being thence copied by Willughby
has been generally adopted by Bnglish authors, and api)lied by them
to all the congeners of the speoies to which it was originally peculiar.
' This name in seamen's ornithology applies to several other kinds
dC birds, ond, though .perhaps first given to those of this group, is
nowadays most commonly used for the species of Thoi-ic-dird
(y.D. ), the projecting middle feathers of the tail in each kind being
generally likened to the marlinespike that is identilicd with the
boatswain's position ; but perhaps the authoritative character assumed
by both bird and officer originally suggested the name.
' It has long been subjected to persecution in the.se islands, a reward
being paid for its head. On the other hand, in the Sbetlomls a tine
was exacted for its death, as it Was believed to protect tlio sheep
against Eagles. Yet for all this it would long ago have been extirpated
there, and have ceased to be a British bird in all but name, but for
the special protection afTonled it by several members of two families
to stray furthersouth than Gibraltar or Morocco, and it is therefore
a matter of much interest to find the Southern Ocean inhabited by
a bird— the "Port Egmont Hen" of Cook's Voyages— which S9
closely resembles the Skua as to have been for a long while regarded
as specifically identical with it, but is now usually recognized as
distinct under the name of S. antarclicus. This bird, character-
ized by its stout deep bi'l and want of rufous tint on its lower
plumage, has an extensive range, and would seem to exhibit a
tendency to further differentiation, since Jlr Saunders, in a mono-
graph of the group {Proc. Zool. Society, 1876, pp. 317-332), says
that it presents three local forms— one occurring from New Zealand
to Norfolk Island and past Kerguelcn Land to the Cnpe of Good
Hope, another restricted to the Falklands, and the third hitherto
only met \vith near the south-polar ice. On the western coast of
South America, making its way into the Straits of Magellan, and
passing along the coast so far as Rio Janeiro, is found S. chilensis,
distinguished among other characters by the cinnamon tint of its
lower plumage. Three other smaller species of the genus are
known, and each is more widely distributed than those just men-
tioned, but the home of all is in the more northern parts of the
earth, though in winter two of them go very far south, and, crossing
the equator, shew thcTiselves on the seas that wash the Cape of
Good Hope, Australia, New Zealand, and Peru. The first of them
is S. pomatorhinus (often incorrectly spelt pomarinns), about the
size of a common Gull, Larus caniis, and presenting, irrespective
of sex, two very distinct phases of plumage, one almost wholly
sooty-brown, the other particoloured — dark above and white on
the breast, the sides of the neck being of a glossy straw-colour, and
the lower part of the neck and the sides of the body barred with
brown ; but a singular feature in the adults of this species is that
the two median tail-feathers, which are elongated, have their shaft
twisted towards the tip, so that in flight tho lower surfaces of their
webs are pressed together vertically, giving the bird the appearance
of having a disk attached to its tail. The second and third species
so closely resemble each other, except in size, that their distinctness
was for many years unperceivd, and in consequence their nomen-
clature is an almost bewildering puzzle. Mr Saunders {loe. cit.)
thinks that the larger of them, which is about the size of a Black-
headed Gull, should stand as S. crcpidatus, and the sirxaller as S.
parasiticus, tlioiigh the latter name has bean generally used for the
larger when that is aot termed, as it often is, S. richardsoni — a
name that correctly applies only to whole-coloured examples, for
this species too is dimorphic. Even its proper English name* is
disputable, but it his been frequently called the Arctic Gull or
Arctic Skua, and it is by for the con-.monest of the genus in Britain,
and perhaps throughout the northern hemisphere. It breeds
abundantly on many of the Scottish islands, and in most countries
lying to the northward. The nest is generally in long heather,
and contains two eggs of a dark olive-colour, suffused with still
darker brown patches. Birds of either phase of plumage pair
indiscriminately, and the young shew by their earliest feathers
whether they will prove whole or particoloured ; but in their
immature plumage the upper surface is barred with pale reddish-
brown. The smallest species, commonly known in English as the
Long-tailed or Buffou's Skua, is not known to exhibit the remark-
able dimorphism to which the two preceding are subject. It
breeds abundantly in some seasons on the fells of Lapland, its
appearance depending chiefly on the presence of lemmings [Lcmmitt
iiorvcgicus), on which it mainly preys. All these three species
occasionally visit the southern coasts of Europe in large flocks, but
their visitations are highly irregular. (A. N. )
SKUNK. The existence of the animal to which this
name^ is applied was first notified to European naturalists
as long ago as 1636, in Gabriel Sagard-Theodat's
History of Canada, where, in commencing his quaint
account of it (p. 748), ho describes it as "enfans du
diable, que les Hurons appelle Scangatesse una
beste fort puante," &c. This fully shows in what reputa-
tion the skunk was then held, a reputation which Las
lasted to tho present time, and has become so notorious
that the mere name of skunk is an opprobrious epithet and
can hardly be used in polite society.
The skunks, for there are several species of these
animals, are members of the Melino or badger-like sec-
tion of the family Mustdidx, which contains- also the
(Edmonston and Scott of Mclby), whoso exertions to that effect dcKcrve
the praise and recognition of all ornithologists.
* It is the "Fasgadair" of tho Hebrides, the "Shool" of tho
Shctlands, and tho "Scoutiallcn " of tho flsherraen on tho east cooaI
of Scotland.
» Proimbly derived from "Seecawk," tho Crec namo for tho ikunk.
Another form given is "scganlju."
126
S K \ — S K V
martens, stoats, otters, &c., and forms tlie largest family
of the Arctoidea or bear-like division of the Land Cami-
vora (see the article ilAiuiALiA, vol. xv. p. 439-40,
where the zoological characters of these groups are given
in detail).
The common skunk (Mepkilis mepMtica) is a riative of
North America, extending from Hudson's Bay southwards
to Guatemala in Central America. It is a "beautiful little
animal, about the size of a cat, though of a • stouter and
heavier build, with rich lustrous black fur, strikingly
Common Skunk,
varied on the back by a very variably shaped patch or
streak of white. Its muzzle is long and pointed, its eyes
sharp and bead-like, and its grey or white tail is long, and
unusually bushy.
The following account of the habits and disposition of
tie skunk is extracted from Dr C. Hart Merriam's Mam-
mals of the Adirondack Region, New York, 1884 : —
" The skunk preys upon mice, salamanders, frogs, and the eggs
of birds that nest on or within reacli fioni the ground. At times
he eats carrion, and if he chances to stumble upon a hen's nest the
eggs are liable to suffer ; and once in a while he acquires the evil
Iiabit of robbing the hen-roost, but as a rule skunks are not
addicted to this vice.
" Of all our native mammals perhaps no one is so universally
abused and has so many unpleasant things said about it as the
innocent subject of the present biography ; and yet no other
species is half so valuable to the farmer. Pre-eminently an insect-
eater, he destroys more beetles, grasshoppers, and the like than all
our other mammals together, and iu addition to these he devours
vast numbers of mice.
"He does not evince that dread of man that is so manifest in the
vast majority of our mammals, and when met during any of his
circumambulations rarely thinks of running away; He is slow in
movement and deliberate in action and does not often hurry him-
self in whatever he does. His ordinary gait is a measured walk,
but when pressed for time he breaks into a low shuffling gallop.
lit is hard to intimidate a skunk, but wlienonce really frightened
Ihe manages to get over the ground at a very fair pace.
" Skunks remain active throughout the greater part of the year
in this region, and hibernate only during the severest portion of
the winter. They differ from most of our hibernating mammals
in that the inactive period is apparently dependent solely on the
temperature, while the mere amount of snow has no influence
whatever upon their movements.
" Skunks, 'particularly when young, make very pretty pets, being
attractive in appearance, gentle in disposition, interesting in
manners, and cleanly iu habits — rare qiialities indeed ! They are
playful, sometimes mischievous, and manifest considerable affection
for those who have the care of them. Their flesh is white, tender,
and sweet, and is delicious eating.
" Skunks have large families, from six to ten young being com-
monly raised each season ; and as a rule they all live in tiie same
llolo until the following spring."
We now come to the consideration of the remarkabN
and overpowering odour which has brought the skunk
into such evil notoriety, and which is not the mere smell
of the animal itself, as in the case of most other evil-
smelling mammals, but arises from the. much-modified
secretion of the anal glands. These glands, although
present iu all Mustelidie, are especially developed in the
skunks, and are peculiar for being so entirely under the
control of the animal that at ordinary times, as Dr Merriam
has stated, the animal is enabled to be both cleanly and
free from smell. The glands which secrete the odoriferous
fluid are modifications of the ordiuary anal glands possessed
by nearly all Carnivora, but in the skunks they are
enormously enlarged, entirely surround the rectum, and
are provided with thick musculai gizzard-like coats. The
two ducts leading from these glands open at the tips of
two small conical papilla; placed just inside the anus, in
such a position that by everting the anus the animal
can protrude them externally, and with them can guide
the direction of the jet of nauseous fluid, which is often
propelled by the powerful muscles surrounding the.gland^
to a distance of from 8 to 1 2 feet.
It is almost needless to state that the old stories about
the skunk's smell arising from its urine, and of its splash-
ing the fluid about with its tail are both entirely without
foundation. The secretion itself is a clear ysllowish
liquid, with a marvellously penetrating ampioniacal and
nauseous smell. So powerful and penetrating is this smell
that Dr Merriam says, "I have known the scent to become
strikingly apparent in every part of a well-closed house,
in winter, within five minutes time after a skunk had been
killed at a distance of more than a hundred yards," and
under favourable conditions it may be distinctly perceived
at a distance of more than a mile-; instances are also ou
record of persons having become entirely unconscious after
inhaUng the smell. On the other hand it is said to act
as a potent remedy in cases of asthma and similar
diseases, but to most people such a remedy would be
almost worse than the disease itself.
The other species of skunk are the following : —
The Long-tailed Skunk {Mcpkilis viacnirn), a native of central
and southern Mexico, differs from the comhion species by generally
havirjg two white stripes along its sides, and by its much longer
and bnshier tail.
Tlie little Striped Skunk (McithUisjyuiorius), found in the soiithem
United States, and ranging southwards to Yucatan and Guatemala,
is much smaller than M, inephitica, and its colouring is of a very
peculiar and striking nature, consisting of four intermpted longi-
tudinal white stripes on a black ground, the general aspect of tho
animal being one of the most beautiful and striking in all this
brightly marked faniily. Its skull also differs to such an extent
from that of the common skunk that this species h.is been scp.irated
as a distinct genus under the name o£ Spilogale, but there is hardly
sufficient reason for this.
Finally, the Conepatl (Cotiepalus mapnrito), the skunk of tropical
America, ranging from 'Texas to Chili and Patagonia, differs still
more from tlie true skunks, although in colour it is almost pre-
cisely similar to the common species, varying in the same way and
to the same remarkable extent in the relative development of the
black and white. Its build is lieavier than in Mcpldlis ; its snout
and head are more pig-like ; and its nostrils open downwards and
forwards instead of laterally on the sides of the muzzle. Its skull
has many special character's, and its teeth are different in shape
and, as a rule, in number also, the first minute premolar of
Mephitis being almost invariably absent, so that its dental formula
is only i §, c{, pm j, 7ii i = 32.
For descriptions of the anal glonds see Wyman, Pr. Bosl. Soc, !. p. 110, 7844 ;
Wanen, Pr. Bosl. Soc.. lii. p. 17-5, 18.".1; Parker, Ann KaC.. v. p. 246, 1871;
Clmtin, Ann. £ci. Nat.,[^>], xlx. p. 100, 1874; and f'T general dcscriplive accounts
see Allen, BuH. Harvard Coll., 1. p. 178, 18G9; Coues, Fur-bearing Aniinah, pp.'
187-200, 1877; JlerriMTl, of su/ira. (O.T.) '
SKVIR.A, a district town of European Russia, in the
government of Kieff, 77 miles south-west of Kieff, and 27
miles from the Fastova railway -junction. It is merely a big
vUlage, with 14,200 inhabitants, mostly engaged in agri-
culture, and ha.s munici^tal institutions only as thescat of
« K Y — S L A
127
Jhc aJtftlnistratioQ of the district. There is a considerable
fcxport of grain and cattle from the district, which is fertile
and has many villages of from 3000 to 5000 inhabitants.
In the 14th century Skvira was a far more important town
than no\r, but the wars destroyed it, so that two centuries
later it was left uninhabited^ it was settled anew by
Prince Eozinski, and the population slowly reached the
number of 1000 by the end of the last century. The town
has grown rapidlv during the last ninety years.
SKYE, the largest island of the Inner Hebrides, Scot-
land, is situated between the mainland of Inverness-shire,
within which county it is included, and the group of the
Outer Hebrides. It lies between 57" 1' 12" and oi 42
30" N. lat. and 3° 3S' 50" and 6° 47' 8" W. long. It is
separated from the mainland at its eastern corner by Loch
Alsh and Kyle Rhea, the channel at the narrowest point
living a breadth of only about 3 furlongs. Southwards
Kyle Rhea widens out into the Sound of Sleat, and to the
west of Loch Alsh there is a sudden wideningof the gap to
the extent of about 9 miles. Along the eastern shore are
the islands of I'abba, Scalpa, Eaasay, Fladda, and Eona.
The Minch separating Lewis and the mainland bounds
Jjkye on the north, and the Little Minch to the north-
west separates it from North L'ist and Harris. The total
area is 411,703 acres or 643 square miles. The coast-
line is extremely irregular, abounding in inlets of a great
-variety of foriii and size, and in the north and west it is
Tvildly precipitous. The island is naturally divided into
three parts, each marked off by its distinctive geology and
scenery. By much the largest division lies to the north of
a line drawn from Loch Brittle to the head of Loch
Sn^achan. In this area the rocks are almost wholly
varieties of basalt, disposed in nearly horizontal sheets,
which give a singular tabular shape to the hills and ter-
raced forms to the slopes. To the east of Loch Snizort are
the basaltic groups which include the Storr Eock (L3bU
feet) with its curious columns, and the Quiramg (1 ( ( 4
feet), with its verdant platform in the centre of a range
of rusged cliffs. In the north-west are Macleod's Tables
(lj60f°feet) and some smaller summits. .The central
division may be defined along its southern border by a
line drawn from Loch Slapin to Broadford. Its rocks
are almost wholly of volcanic origin, and belong mainly
to two groups, each characterized by its peculiar mountain
OTtlines. The dark gabbros and dolerites form the jagged
ridcesof the Cuillins, and reach in Bcuir-na-GiUean a
heilht of 3167 feet, and in Blaaven 3043 feet. To the
north-east of the Cuillins tower in striking contrast the
pyramidal Eed j\l6untains, consisting of granite, syenite,
quartz porphyry, and various allied rocks, and reaching m
Glaraaig a heisht of 2670 feet. The third division in-
cludes all the rest of the island, and consists of two to er-
ably distinct tracts. The mora northerly of these lies
along the base of the Eed Hills, and forms the narrow
part of Skye -between Strathaird and Broadford Bay. "
is composed mainly of Secondary rocks (Lias and Oo ite),
through which the eruptive masses of the Eed Hills Have
been thrust. The more southerly part comprises the dis-
trict of Sleat, and consists of red sandstone (Torridon saml-
stono or Cambrian), rising in Scuir-na-Coinnich to 2401
feet, and of various crystalline schists and quartzites wluch
stretch from Loch Alsh along the Sound of bleat to the
SQuthcrn point of the island. A considerable tract of lime-
stone lies in the centre of Strath Parish, somo of which
has been altered by the eruptive rocks into a pure whito
marble. There are several inland lochs of considerable size,
the largest being Loch Coruisk, remarkable for the gloomy
grandeur of its situation in the heart of the Cuillins.
On account of the damp climate tlio land is better aJ«Pt'!i f°'
rearing sheep and cattle tkaa for tillage. A large number of cattle
of the West Highland breed are gi-ated on the ttoore. Tb« sh«p
are piincinally blackfaced, but som. Cheviots are also kept, llio
Sieater portion of the inhabitants i/.- crofters who inhabit chieflj
miscr.ible huts with a fireplace ii> the middle of the floor tlie
smoke escaping by a hole in the r.of. The number .of "°f» "V
Skye, according to the report of t\ r Crofters Commission 1884,
was 2051 The number of families ejected by decrees from their
holdiu-'s between 1840 and ISGO was 5012, representing a popula-
tion ot"25,n60, and between 1860 rm\ 1883 1948, representing a
iioiiuhtion of 9740. Mauy o£ the crofters support themselves ymrtH
bv tishiii". In the Loch Carroll and Skye- dUtrict the number^
boats ill 1881 was 950, employing 2904 men and boys. FroHT
20 6-'7 ill 1821 the population of Skye had increased to 2-3,08-
in'is'il, but by 1871 it had decreased to 17,330 and in 1881 W
16 839, of whom 16,099 were Gaelic-speaking. The number CI
females was 8903 au<l of males 7986. Portree, the principal tx>vt^
has a population of 893. . .,. _ ._
Sec iesUlcs the works veferrcd to under Hebrides, .\lesmiilcr Smith s Suvyfm^
in S%e ifol; RnUeit Bnclmnan's STAe Jlcbrid Jsl»; 1S83; and Rtporl.ojTjb
Crofters Commission, ISO**
SLANDEE. See Libel.
SL\TE is an araillaceous rock of variow colours— Dlu&
green, purple, grey, and black— and a peculiar structur»
by which it readily splits into thin plates or lamina;. It
is of sedimentary origin, being primarily deposited on
ocean floors as fine mud formed by the waste and denudac;
tion of pre-existing rocks, and afterwards compressed
hardened, and altered into compact rock. Slate bedi
occur mainly in the Cambrian, Silurian, and- Devonian
formations— frequently alternating with bands of grit and
limestone, or interstratified with felspathic lava or ashes--^
and b<-ing tilted up from their original horizontal or nearly
horizontal position, stretch across wide districts in a serie?
of .undulations, which rise to the surface in crests, or dip
into troughs underground and form angles of every inclina-
tion with the horizon.i
Slate rock splits along cleavage planes which are dis-
tinct from and independent of original stratification.
These planes are, as a rule, vertical or highly inclined, and
intersect the lines of bedding at various angles, but some
times coincide with them. The strike of cleavage :s
generally parallel with that of the slate beds, and a uni
form direction is often maintained over wide areas, as in
North Wales, where it is nearly north-north-east and south
south-west, while in Shropshire it is north-east and south-
west, and in Pembrokeshire north-by-west and south-by-east.
This' peculiar cleavage structure is believed to be the result
of a combination of intense forces, chiefly lateral pressure
acting at right angles to the planes of cleavage..
Contraction, compression, shearing, and other powerful
forces have caused great disturbances in slate beds, since
they were first thrown down as fine sediment, and the
results are seen in the foldings, contortions, fissures, rents,
and dislocations that now e.xist. The fiss^ires often follo^r
well-defined courses and form divisional planes termed
joints,— some running parallel with the strike and called
strike joints, others running in the direction of the dip
and called dip joints. Dykes of greenstone and other
1 The following table shows tho older sedimentary forniaUons ia
which slatB beds mainly occur, in the order of superposition:—
Primary or Palmoxoic Pmks.
Permian. Mngnesian limestone, marls, sandstones, 4oi
Carboniferous. Coal measures, limestone, slate, &c
Devonian. Old red sandstone, slates, &o.
S Ludlow group.
Weulock.
Upper Llandovery.
(Lower Llandovery.
Carailoc and Bala.,
Ll.indoUo.
Lower. •( Arcuig.
Trcniadoc.
Lingiila flags.
(^MenoNion bedh.
.Cambrian. Cambrion grit!!, conglonicralCTi'TtTid bIMbs.
Trimitive cfystallino rocks. Gneiss, schists, «c.
128
S L A — S L A
■Volcanic matter, and also veins of quartz, intersect the
beds, and the surfaces of rents are frequently baked by
heat ejected from the interior. Faults also occur, and
cause displacements of the beds by upheaval or down-
throw of one or other side of a rent.
Several varieties of clay slate are met with, and are char-
acterized by the mineral that chiefly pre\"ails: The colour
— varying shades of blue, green, and purple being the most
common — depends mainly on the presence of iron and the
form in which it exists. The common roofing slate of /com-
merce is generally fine-grained, and combines great strength
and durability with moderate weight. It is also very dense,
1 cubic foot weighing over 170 lb, while according to Mr
Wilkinson it takes on an average 20,000 Bb to crush 1 cubic
inch.
Certain varieties of slate, however, are soft and perish-
able, particularly the black carbonaceous kinds. Cubes of
iron pyrites frequently occur in slate rock, and are generally
deleterious owing to their tendency to decompose and fall
out, but this is not always the case, as some of the most
durable slates are sprinkled with pyrites without detriment.
The following percentage analysis of an average sample
of Welsh roofing slate is given by Prof. Hull :' —
Silica 60-50 I Slagnesia 2-20
Alumina 19-70 ) Potash 3-18
Iron (protoxide) 7-83 I Soda 2-20
Lime 1-12 I Water 3-30
Slate has been used for roofing during many centuries,
and it is said that some of the old castles of North
Wales — such as Carnarvon and Conway — were covered
with this material. And no doubt the better class
of houses," situated in the neighbouihood of slate beds,
would be roofed with slates obtained by rough surface
digging, or from blocks exposed by mountain streams
and split by the action of the weather, long before regular
quarrying operations commenced. The Delabole quarries
of Cornwall had acquired considerable importance as far
back as the IGth century, and some of the Welsh slate
quarries are very old, as are those of Angers in France.
But the slate industry belongs mainly to the present
century and latter part of the 1 8th ; and since the open-
ing up of the country by sea and land communications
the progress and development of slate quarries have been
great and rapid. The largest and most valuable quarries
of North Wales are worked in the Cambrian and Lower
Silurian beds, those of Llan^beris and Penrhyn being worked
in the former, and the Festiniog quarries in the latter.
[Important quarries are worked in Cumberland (Lower
Silurian), Westmoreland, and Lancashire (Upper Silurian),
and also in Devon and Cornwall (Devonian and Carboni-
ferous), the lake districts being specially noted for their
rich green slates. Some of the western and midland
districts of Scotland — mainly Argyleshire, Dumbartonshire,
and Perthshire — produce very strong and durable slates
(Lower Silurian and Cambrian), the largest and most
important quarries being at Ballachulish in Argylkhire,
where 15,000 tons are annually made. . The Scotch slates
are chiefly blue in colour, but thin beds of green are found
in some of the central districts.
Slate is now almost universally used for roofing houses
fend build- ngs of every description, and for such purposes
jit is unequalled, the better sorts possessing all the qualities
necessary for protection against wind, rain, and storm.
The finer varieties "are made into writing slates, and in
districts where cross cleavage exists slate pencils are
made. Slabs are also manufactured, and, being readily
cut, planed, dressed, and enamelled, are used for chimney
pieces, billiard tables, wall linings, cisterns, paving, tomb-
' ' Building and Omainenial Stones of Qreat Britain and Foreign
^C<naiines, 1872.
stones, ridge rolls, and various other architectural and
industrial purposes.
Slate rocks are quarried both above ground and below ground,
according as they lie near to or distant from the surJ"ace. ■ When they
are jiear the surlace, and tlieir dip corresponds with the slope of-the
ground, they arc in the most favourable position, and are worked
in terraces or galleries formed along the strike of the beds and
havin" a height of about 50 feet. The. galleries are generally
carried on in sections of 10 yards, worked across the beds, asd
may rise to any height or be sunk below the surrounding level by
excavations. When the rock is much removed from the surface, or
inconveniently situated for open workings, it is quarried in uuder-
gronnd chambers reached by levels driven through tlie intervening
mass and across or along the beds. Or it may be necessary to sink
shafts as iu coal-pits before the rock is arrived at, but the cost of
doing so forms a serious drawback. Inclines, waggons, tramways,
and other machiuery are employed in slate quarries as in other
quarries, to suit the special circumstances and cosition of the opera-
tions, and need not be detailed.
The sections of a gallery are generally worked by ciews of six'
men, who undertake to perform all operations of quarrying, split-'
ting, and dressing at fixed rates. The rock is bored by juniper
drills directed and turned by the hand and driven by hammers.!
When the bore is short and of small diameter one man can do the
work, holding the jumper with one hand and using the hammer
with the other. But wnen a largo mass of rock has to be thrown
down a bore 4 to 6 feet deep and a diameter of 2 to 3 inches 1%
required and three men are employed, — one to guide and turn the
jumper and two to drive it with heavy hammers. Bores of inter-
mediate size are made by two men, one holding and the other
driving the drill. When the boring has to be done on a steep face
a staging is fixed to the rock or suspended from the top by means
of ropes. The explosive generally used is rock-blasting powder,
being the most suitable for the heaving force required to throw ont
or detach masses of rock without much splintering, which would
destroy the blocks for slate making. Advantage is taken of the
natural cuts or joints in blasting, as the rock is readily thrown or
worked off these. From the mass thrown out by the blast, or
loosened so as readily to come away by the use of crowbars, the
men carefully select and sort all good blocks and send them in
waggons to the slate huts to be split and dressed into slates. Two
meu are employed at this operation — one splitting and the other
dressing, performing their work in a sitting posture. The splitter
places a block on end between his knees, and with chisel and mallet
splits it into as many plates as possible of the usual thickness for
roofing purposes — namely, quarter of au inch more or less according
to the size and strength required. These plates are then placed
horizontally by the dresser on a vertical iron " stand," and cut with
a sharp knife iuto slates of various sizes suitable for the market
(from 30 in. x 16 in. to 10 in. x 6 in.). Certain sizes are designated
by names from the peerage, such as princesses (24 in. x 14 ins.),
duchesses (24x12), marchionesses (22x11), countesses (20x10),
viscountesses^(18 x 9), ladies (16 x 10), &c. In every slate rock
there is a large amount of waste or bad rock, which is thrown away
as rubbish — the proportion of good to bad varying from ono in
twelve to one in thirty. Attempts are being made at present to
have this waste material manufactured iuto some article of indus-
trial value ; and, as it consists chiefly of silica and alumina, these
attempts should prove successful.
The slate industry of the British Isles is now of very considerable
importance, that of North Wales in particular being immense.
According to the census of 1881 tlie number of slate quairiers in
the United Kingdom amounted to 15,765, while ovsr half a million
tons of slates aud slabs are produced annually, the value of which
may be estimated at or over £1,250,000. The number of slates
exported in 1884 exceeded 49 millions, the declared value being
£251,824, of which over 35 millions went to Germany, valued at
£163,321, over 5j millions to Australasia, valued at £37,474, and
over 3 millions to Denmark, valued at £34,304. ,
Good slate beds are also worked in the south of Ireland, par-
ticularly in the counties of Wicklow, Tipperary, Cork, and Kerry
(Lower Silurian, Devonian, and Carboniferous). On the continent
of Europe slate rock is worked in Devonian and other formations
■ — in France (Lower Silurian and Devonian), Belgium, Sweden,
Norway, Germany, Austria, and Italy (Oolitic). In North America
immense slate beds extend from Newfoundland westwards to the
Great Lakes and south westwards to Arkansas (U.S.); and slate
quarries are successfully worked in Newfoundland, Canada, and in
the States of Maine, Vermont, Massachusetts, New York, Peunr,
sylvania, &c. Writing and roofing slates and slabs of every variety,
of size and colour are manufactured in these ; but none of the
quarries have hitherto reached the immense developments of the
"principal ones in North Wales, and yet, with characteristic enter-'
prise, roofing slates have been within recent years imported to Great
iBritain from Newfoundland and the United States. (D. 0.) >
SLAUGHTER HOUSE. See Abattoie.
129
SLAVERY
IT appears to be true that, in the words of Dunoyer, the
economic regime of every society which has recently
become sedentary is founded on the slavery, of the
industrial professions. In the, hunter period the savage
warrior does not enslave his vanquished enemy, but slays
him ; the women of a conquered tribe he may, however,
carry off and app'-opriate as wives or as servants, for in
this period domestic labour falls almost altogether on their
sex. In the pastoral stage slaves will be captured only to
be sold, with the exception of a few who may be required
for the care of flocks or the small amount of cultivation
which is then undertaken. It is in proportion as a
sedentary life prevails, and agricultural exploitation is
practised on a larger scald, whilst warlike habits continue
to exist, that the labour of slaves is increasingly introduced
to provide food for the master, and at the same time save
him from irksome toil Of this stage in the social move-
ment slavery seems to have been, as we have said, a
universal and inevitable accompaniment.
But wherever theocratic organizations established them-
selves slavery in the ordinary sense did not become a
vital element in the social system. The members of the
lowest class were not in a, state of individual subjection :
the entire caste to which they belonged was collectively
subject. It is in the communities in which (he military
order obtained an ascendency over the sacerdotal, and
which were directly organized for war, that slavery (as
the word is commonly understood) had its- really natural
and appropriate place. And, as war performed an indis-
pensable function in human history, our just horror for
some aspects of slavery must not prevent us from recogniz-
jng that institution as a necessary step in social progress.
It is not merely that in its first establishment slavery was
an immense advance by substituting for the immolation
of captives, often accompanied by cannibalism, their
permanent occupation in labour for the benefit of the
victor. This advantage, recalled by an old though
erroneous' etymology, is generally acknowledged. But it
is not so well understood that slavery discharged important
offices in the later social evolution — first, by enabling
military action to prevail with the degree of intensity and
continuity requisite for the system of incorporation by
conquest which was its final destination ; and, secondly,
by forcing the captives, who with their descendants came
to form the majority of the population in the conquering
community, to an industrial life, in spite of the antipathy
to regular and sustained labour -yhich is deeply rooted
in human nature, especially in the earlier stages of the
social movement, when insouciance, is so common 9, trait,
and irresponsibility is hailed as a welcome relief. Willi
respect to the latter consideration, it is enough to say that
nowhere has productive industry developed itself in the
form of voluntary effort ; in every country of which
we have any knowledge it was imposed by the strong
upon the '.veak, and was wrought into the habits of the
* Senms is not cognate with sermre, as has often been sup-
posed; it is really related to the Homeric ttpfpos and the verb
flpa, with which the Latin sero is to be connected. It may be here
mentioned that slave was originally a national name; it meant a man.
of Slavonic race captured and made a bondman to the Germans.
" From the Euxine to the Adriatic, in the state of captives or sub-
jects, . . , they [the Slavonians] overspread the land, and the national
appellation of the Slaves has been degraded by chance or molice from
the significatioQ of glory to that of servitude " (Gibbon, Decline and
Fall, ch. Iv. ).. The historian alludes to the derivation of the national
nomo from elava, glory. See Skeat's Elym. Diet., e.v. ; see also
^LAVS.
people only by the stern discipline of constraint. From
the former point of view the freeman, then essentially a
warrior, and the slave were mutual auxiliaries, simulta-
neously exercising different and complementary functions
— each necessary to the maintenance and furthering the
activity of the other, and thus co-operating, without
competition or conflict, towards a common public end.
In modern slavery, on the other hand, where the occu-s
pations of both parties were industrial, the existence 01
a servile class, instead of rendering the citizens dis-
posable for social service in a different field, only
guaranteed for some of them the possibility of self-"
indulgent ease, whilst it imposed on others the necessity
of indigent idleness.
It was in the Roman state that military action — in
Greece often purposeless and, except in the resistance to
Persia, on the whole fruitless — worked out the social
mission which formed its true justification. Hence at
Rome slavery also most properly found its place, so long
as that mission was in progress of accomplishment. As
soon as the march of conquest had reached its natural
limit, slavery began to be modified ; and when the empire
was divided into the several states which had grown up
under it, and the system of defence characteristic of the
Middle Ages was substituted for the aggressive system of
antiquity, slavery gradually disappeared, and was replaced
by serfdom, which again, with the rise of modern industrial
life, gave way to personal freedom.
We have so far dealt with the political results of ancient
slavery, and have found it to have been in certain respects
not only useful but indispensable. When we consider its
moral effects, whilst endeavouring to the utmost to avoid
exaggeration, we must yet pronounce its influence to have
been profoundly detrimental. In its action on the slave
it marred in a great measure the happy effects of habitual
industry by preventing the development of the sense of
human dignity which lies at the foundation of morals,
whilst the culture of his ideas and sentiments was in most
cases entirely neglected, and the spontaneous education
arising from the normal family relations was too c^i;en
altogether denied him. On the morality of the masters —
whether personal, domestic, or social — the effects of the
institution were disastrous. The habit of absolute rule,
always dangerous to onr natore, was peculiarly corrnpting
when it penetrated every department of daily life, and
when no external interference checked individual caprice
in its action on the feelings and fortunes of inferiors. It
tended to destroy the power of self-comriiand, and exposed
the master to tVe baneful influences of fiattery. As regards
domestic morality, the system offered constant facilities for
libertinism, and tended to subvert domestic peace by com-
promising the just dignity and ruining the happiness of
the wife. The sons of the family were familiarized with
vice, and the general tone of feeling of the younger
generation was lowered by their intimate association with
a despised and degraded class. On social morality,
properly so called, the habits of cruelty, or at least of
harshness, engendered by the relation, had a powerful
reaction. Hume observes on "the little humanity com-
monly observed in persons accustomed from their infancy
to exercise so great mithority over their fellow-creatures
and to trample upon human nature. . . . Nor," ho adds,
" can a more probable reason bo assigned for the severe,
I might say, barbarous manners of ancient times than the
practice of domestic slavery, by which every man of rank
was rendered a petty t)Tant, and educated amidst the
XXII — 17
130
SLAVERY
flattery, submission, and low debasement of his slaves."
Tliese deplorable results -were, of course, not universally
produced ; there were admirable exceptions both amongst
masters and amongst slaves — instances of benevolent pro-
tection on the one side and of unselfish devotion on the
other, which did honour to human nature ; bat the evil
effects without doubt greatly preponderated.
We proceed to a closer study of the institution of slavery
as it existed in the Greek and Roman societies respectively.
We find it already fully established in the Homeric period.
The prisoners taken in war are retained as slaves, or sold (II. , s.xi v.
752) or held at ransom {II., vi. 427) by the captor. Sometimes the
men of a conquered town or district are slain and the women carried
off {Od., ix. 40). Not unfrequently free persons were kidnapped by
pirates and sold in other regions, like EumiEus in the Odyssey. The
slave might thus be by birth of equal rank with his master, who
knew that the' same fate might befall himself or some of the mem-
bers of his family. The institution does not present itself in a very
harsh form in Homer, especially if we consider (as Grote suggests)
that " all classes were much on a level in taste, sentiment, and
instruction." The male slaves were employed in the tillage of the
land and the tending of cattle, and the females in domestic work
and household manufactures. The principal slaves often enjoyed
the confidence of their masters and had important duties entrusted
to them ; and, after lengthened and meritorioiis service, were put
in possession of a house and property of their own {Od., xiv. 64).
Grote's idea that the women slaves were in a more pitiable con-
dition than the males does not seem justified, except perhaps in
the case of the aUtridcs, who turned the household mills which
ground the flour consumed in the famOy, and who were sometimes
overworked by unfceUng masters {Od., xx. 110-119). Part of the
agricultural work was sometimes done by poor hired freemen
(Ihctes), who are spoken of as a wretched class {Od., xi. 490), and
were perhaps employed almost exclusively by the smaller land-
holders. Having no powerful protector to whom they could look
up, and depending on casual jobs, they were probably in a less
desirable position than the average slave. Homer conceives the
lot of the latter as a bitter one {Od., viii. 528; 11., xix. 302); but
it must be remembered that the element of change from a former
elevated position usually enters into his descriptions. He marks
in a celebrated couplet his sense of the moral deterioration com-
monly wrought by the condition of slavery {Od., xviL 322).
Historic It is, however, in historic Greece, where we have ample docu-
petiod. mentary information, that it is most important to study the
system of slavery, — and especially at Athens, where the principal
work of Greek civilization found its accomplishment The case of
Sparta, in some respects peculiar, must be separately considered.
Sources The sources of slavery in Greece were : — -1. Birth, the condition
of being hereditary. This was not an abundant source, women slaves
slavery, being less numerous than 'men, and wise masters making the union
of the sexes rather a reward of good service than a matter of specu-
lation (Xen., CEcon., ix. 5). It was in general cheaper to buy a
slave than to rear one to the age of labour. 2.- Sale of children by
their free parents, which was tolerated, except in Attica, or their
exposure, which -was permitted, except at Thebes. The conse-
quence of the latter was sometimes to subject them to a servitude
worse than death, as is seen in the plays of Plautus and Terence,
which, as is well known, depict Greek, not Roman, manners.
Freemen, through indigence, sometimes sold themselves, and at
Athens, up to the time of "Solon, an insolvent debtor became the
slave of his creditor. 3. Capture in war. Not only Asiatics and
Tliracians thus became slaves, but in the many wars between
Grecian states, continental or colonial, Greeks were reduced to
slavery by men of their own race. Thus Spartans were slaves at
Tegea, and Gelon sold out of their country the ::ommonalty of
Hyblcean llegara. At Plattea, at Scione, in llelos, the men were
massacred or deported, the women enslaved. Athenians were sold
at Samos, and in Sicily after the failure of the expedition. ■ In the
struggle of parties at Corcyra, each faction, when triumphant, con-
demned the other to massacre or slavery. Callicratidas pronojjnced
against the enslavement of Greeks by Greeks, but violated his oivn
principle, to which, however, Epaminondas and Pelopidas appear
to have been faithful Philip sold his Olynthian captives, and,
after Thebes was taken by Alexander, 30,000 women and children
are said to have been sold. 4. Piracy and kidnapping. The
descents of pirates on the coasts were a perpetual source of danger ;
the pirate was a gainer either by the sale or by the redemption of
his captives. If ransomed, the victim became by Athenian law
the slave of his redeenr.sr till he paid in money or labour the price
which had been given for him. Kidnappers {andrapodistx) carried
off children even in cities, and reared them as slaves. 'WTiether
from hostile forays or from piracy, any Greek was exposed to the
risk of enslavement ; it was a sword of Damocles suspended over
aU heads. 5. Commerce. . Besides the sale of slaves which took
place as a result of the capture of cities or other military operations.
there was a systematic slave trade. S3Tia, Pontns, Lydia, Galatia,''
and above all Thrace were sources of supply. Egypt and Ethiopia
also furnished a certain number, and Italy a few. Of foreigners,
the Asiatics bore the greatest value, as most amenable to com-
mand, and most versed in the arts of luxurious I'efinenient Bnt
Greeks were highest of all in esteem, and they were much sought
for foreign sale. Greece proper and Ionia supplied the petty
Eastern princes with courtesans and female musicians and dancers.
Athens was an important slave-market, and the state profited by
a tax on the sales ; but the principal marts were those of Cyprus,
Samos, Ephesus, and especially Chios.
The slaves were employed either in domestic service — as house-
hold managers, attendants, or personal escorts — or in work of other
kinds, agricultural or urbau. In early Attica, and even down to
the time of Pericles, the landowners lived in the country. The
Peloponnesian "War introduced a change ; and after that time the
proprietors resided at Athens, and the cultivation was in the hands
of slaves. In manufactures and commerce, also, servile gradually
displaced free labour. Sjieculators eitlier directly employed slaves
as artisans or commercial and banking agents, or hired them out,
sometimes for work in mines or factories, sometimes for service in
private houses, as cooks, flute-players, &c. , or for viler uses. There
were also public slaves ; of these some belonged to temples, to
which they were presented as offerings, amongst them being the
courtesans who acted as hierodulcs at Coriutn and at Eryx in
Sicily; others were appropriated to the service of the magistrates
or to public works ; there were at Athens 1200 Scythian archers
for the police of the city ; slaves served, too, in the fleets, and Were
employed in the armies, — commonly as workmen, and exceptionally
as soldiers.
The number of slaves in Greece, or even at Athens, can scarcely
be determined with any tolerable approach to certainty. It is
stated by Athenajus (\i. 20), on the authority of Ctesicles, that the
census of Demetrius Phalereus gave for Athens 21,000 citizens,'
10,000 metics (resident foreigners), and 400,000 slaves. It is also
stated by the same author that Corinth had possessed 460,000
slaves and JLgina 470,000. Hume, in his Essay " On the Popu-
lousness of Ancient Nations," maintained that the assertion ot
Athenaeus respecting Athens is quite incredible, — that the number
of Athenian slaves " is at least augmented by a whole cipher, and
ought not to be regarded as more than 40,000." Boeckh an^
Letronne have since made the question the subject of fresh
studies. The former has fixed the number of Attic slaves at about
365,000, the latter at 100,000 or 120,000. M. 'WaDoil has revised
the labours of these scholars, and adduced, further considerations
of his own.' He estimates the number of slaves employed in all
Attica in domestic service at 40,000; in agriculture at 35,000; in
the mines at 10,000 ; in manufactures and commeree at 90^000.
To these must be added, for old people and children under twelve
years of age, 6000 and 20,000 respectively, and also the public
slaves, of whom, as we have said, 1200 were Scythian archers. He
thus arrives at the conclusion that the servile population of Attica
was comprised between the limits of 188,000 and 203,000 souls,
the free popvilation being about 67,000, and the metics amount-
ing to 40,000. The slaves thus bore to the free native population
the ratio of 3 to 1. The numbers given by Athenaeus for Corinth
and .Sgina, though accepted by Boeckh, appear to be excessive,
and are rejected by Clinton and by M. Walton ; the true numbers
were no doubt large, but we have no means of determining them
even approximately. Next after these cities in the magnitude of
their slave population came, on the mainland, Megara, and,
amongst the insular states, Chios and Rhodes. Miletus, Phocsea,
Tarentum, Sybaris, and Cyrene also had numerous bodies of
slaves.
The condition of slaves at Athens was not in general a wretched
one. Demosthenes {In Mid., p. 530) says that, if the barbarians
from whom the slaves were bought were informed of the mild treat-
ment' they received, they would entertain a great esteem for the
Athenians. Plautus in more than one place thinks it necessary t*
explain to the spectators of his plays that slaves at Athens enjoyed
such privileges, and even licence, as ihust be surprising to a Roman
audience. The slave was introduced with certain customary rites
into his position in the family; he was in practice, though not
by law, permitted to accumulate a private fund of his own ; his
marriage ■n'as also recognized by custom; though in general
excluded from sacred ceremonies and public sacrifices, slaves were
admissible to religious associations of a private kind ; there were
some popular festivals in which they were allowed to participate |
they had even special ones for themselves both at Athens and in
other Greek centres. Tlieir remains were deposited m the family
tomb of their master, who sometimes erected monuments in testi-
mony of his aff'ection and regret They often lived on terms of
intimacy either with the head of the house or its younger members;
but it is to be feai-ed that too often this intimacy_ was founded, not
' Dr W. Eichter {Die Sklavcrei im Oriecliischen AHertume, 188")
maintains the correctness of the statement in Athenaus.
SLAVERY
131
on mutual respect, as in tlfo heroic example of Ulysses and Eunireus,
tub on insolent self-assertion on the one side and a spirit of
unwortliy compliance on the other, the latter having its raison
d'etre in degrading services rendered by the slave. Aristoplianes
and Plciutus s)iow us how often resort was liad to the discipline of
[the lash even in the case of domestic slaves. Those employed in
worksliops, whoso overseers were themselves most commonly of
eervilu status, had probably a liarder lot tljan domestics ; and the
agricultural labourers were noi unfrequently chained, and treated
nmcli in the same way as beasts of burden. The displeasure of tho
master sometimes dismissed his domestics to the more opiirossivo
labours of the mill or tho mine. A refuge from cruel treatment
^was aiforded by the temples and altars of the gods and by tlio
sacred groves. Nor did Atlienian law leave the slave witliout
protection. He had, as Lemostlienes boasts, an action for outrage
like a freeman, and his death at the hand of a stranger was
avenged like that of a citizen (liurip., Uec, 238), whilst, if caused
by his master's violence, it had to be atoned for by exile and a
religious e.tpiatiou. Even when the slave had killed his master,
the relatives of the house could not themselves inflict punishment ;
they were obliged to hand him over to the magistrate to be dealt
%vith by kgal process. The slave who had just grounds of com-
plaint against his master could demand to bo sold ; when he alleged
his right to liberty, the law granted him a defender and the
sanctuaries offered him an asylum till judgment should be given.
Securities were taken against the revolt of slaves by not associating
those of the same nationality and language; they were sometimes
fettered to incvent flight, and, after a lirst attempt at escape,
branded to i:icilitate their recovery. There were treaties between
states for the extradition of fugitives, and couti-acts of mutual
assurance between individuals against their loss by flight Their
inclination to take advantage of opportunities for this purpose is
, shown by tho number that escaped from Athens to jom the
Spartans when occujiying Decelea. There were formidable revolts
at the nrines of Laurium, and mora than once in Chios. Tho
evidence of slaves — women as well as men — was often, with the
consent of their masters, taken by torture ; and that method is
generally commended by the orators as a sure means of arriving at
the truth, though sometimes, when it suits their immediate object,^
they take a dilferent tone. The several forms of the "question"
are enumerated in the Frorjs of Aristophanes. If the slave was
mutilated or seriously injured in the process, compensation was
made, not to him, but to his master by the person who had
demanded tho use of torture.
The slave could purchase his liberty with his peculinm by
agreement with his master. Ho cou.-d be liberated by will, or,
during his master's life, by proclamation in the theatre, the law
courts, or other public places, or by having his name inscribed in
the public registers, or, in the later age of Greece, by sale or
donation to certain temples — an act which did not make the slave
a hierodule but a freeman. Conditions were sometimes attached
to emancipation, as of remaining for life or a definite time with
the former master, or another person named by him, or of per-
forming some special service ; payments or rights of succession to
propcrfy might also be reserved. By manumission the Athenian
slave became in relation to the state a metic, in relation to his
master a client. He was thus in an intermediate condition
between slavery and complete freedom. If the freedman viidat'id
his duties to his patron he was subject to an action at law, and if
the decision were against him ho was again reduced to slavey.
He became a full member of the state only, as in the case of
forei'niers, by a vote in an assembly of six thousand citizens ; and
evcn'this vote might be set aside by a graphe paranomon. Slaves
who had rendered eminent services to the public, as those who
fought at Arginusa! and at ChaTonea, were at once admitted to
the status of citizens in the class of (so-called) Plataians. But it
would appear that even in their case some civic rights were reserved
and accorded only to their children by a female citizen. Tho
number of freedmen at Athens seems never to have been great.
It is well known that Aristotle held slavery to bo necessary and
natural, and, under just conditions, beneficial to both parties in
tho relation— views which were correct enough from tho political
Bide, regard being 'had to tho conccmporary social state. His
{)ractical motto, if he is tho author of tho Ecommics attributed
to him, is— "no outi-a^o, and no familiarity." There ought, he
says, to be held out to the.slave the hope of liberty-as tho reward
of'hi? service. Plato condemned the practice, which the theory of
Aristotle also by implicatio3i sets aside as inadmissible, of Greeks
having Greeks for Blaves. In tho Imv>s ho accepts tho institution
as a necessary though embarrassing one, and recommends for tho
safety of the masters that natives of different countries should be
mixed and that they should all bo well treated. But, whilst
condemning liarslmcss towards them, ho encourages tho feclmg of
contempt for them as a class. Xcnophon also, in urging a mild
treatment of- them, seems to have in view, not their own wcll-
heing, but the securitv of the masters. . The later moral bcIiooIs of
Greece scarcely at all concern themselves with tho institaUon.
The Epicurean had no scruple about tho servitude of those whose
labours contributed to his own indulgence and tranquillity ; lie
would at most cultivate an easy temper in his dealings with them.'
Tho Stoic regarded the condition of freedom or slavery as an
external accident. iudiU'erent in the eye of wisdom ; to him it waa
irrational to see in liberty a ground of pride or iu slavery a subject
of complaint ; from intolerable indignity suicide was an ever-open
means of escape. Tho poets— especially the authors of the New
Comedy — strongly inculcate humanity, and insist on tho funda-
ment.al equality of the skvo. The celebrated "homo sum" is a
translation from Alexis, and the spirit of it breathes in many
pa-isages of the Greek drama. A fragment of Philemon declares,'
as if in reply to Aristotle, that not nature, but fortune, makes the
slave. Euripides, as might bo expected from his humanitarian
cast of sentiment, and the " iircniatuio modernism" which has
been remarked in him, rises above the ordinary feelings of his
time ill regard to the slaves. As Mr Paley says, he loves "to
record their fidelity to their masters, their sympathy in tho trials
of life, their gratitude for kindness and considerate treatment, aud^
their pride in bearing the character of honourajdo men. . . . He^
allows thcni to reason, to advise, to suggest; and ho even makes
them philosophize on the follies and the indiscretions of their
superiors" (compare Med., 54; Orest., 869; Hel., 72S ; /oil,'
85i ; Frag. Mclan., 506 ; Phrix., 823). But wo are not to suppose
that even lie, latitudinarian and innovator as he was, could liavo
conceived the possibility of abolishing an institution so deeply rooted
in the social conditions, as well as in the ideas, of his time.
The case of the Helots of Laconia was difl'ercnt from tlilit of the
slaves in most Grecian communities. The origin of this class is
disputed, and we cannot here enter into the controversy. They
were regarded as the property of the state, which gave their services
to individuals but kept in its own hands the power of emancipat-
ing them. Tho domestic sei-vauts of the Spartans were all Helots,
and they waited on their masters at the syssilia or public meal
But they were in the main serfs, living in small country villages
or in detached farms, cultivating the lands of the Spartan pro-
prietoi-s, and paying to those proprietors a proportion of the pro-
duce which could not be increased. They enjoyed their homes,
wives, and families, could acquire property, were not to bo sold
out of the country, and ycrhaps could not be sold at all. They
were, doubtless, emploved in public works ; in war they commonly
acted as light-anned troops attending on the Spartan or Porioccic
hoplites, but in particular emergencies themselves served as
hoplites (Thucyd., iv. 80). They were sometimes rewariled for
good service by emancipation, which, however, did not make them
I'ericeci, but introduced them into a special class known as
ncodmnodcis. The condition of the Helot does not seem to have
been economically onerous ; but his consciousness of Grecian
lineage, which Grote regards as an alleviation of his lot, must
surely have been one of its bitterest elements, whilst it constantly
kept alive the fear and consequent hatred of his Spartan masters,'
and made the relation between tho two classes less natural than
that of the ordinary Greek masters with slaves of foreign and lesi
civilized races. By the ruling powers of Sparta tho Helots were
never trusted, and in one memorable case some two thousand of
them, selected for special military merit, were massacred in secret
(Thucyd., iv. 80). According to Plutarch, whose statement, how-
ever, "has not alwavs been credited, the ephors declared wal
against the Helots every year, and there was a practice, known as
the kryptcia, of detailing a number of young Spartan citizens foi
the purpose of assassinating such of them as were considered
formidable. Wallon estimates the number of tho -Helots .al
220,000, that of the Spartans being 32,000. The Penostco in
Thessaly and tho Clarotai in Crete seem to have occupied a positiot
somewhat similar to that of the Helots in Laconia.
We have already observed that the Roman system o
life was that in which slavery had its most natural aiic
relatively legitimate place; and accordingly it was at
Rome that, as Blair has remarked, the institution waf
more than anywhere else " extended in its operation and
methodized in its details." Not only on this ground is it
especially deserving of our study, but because out of th<
slave-class, as it was organized by the Romans in tht
countries subject to the empire, tho modern proletariat(
has been historically evolved.
We must distinguish from the later slavery at Komo whm
Mommsen calls "the old, in some measure innocent slavery
under which tho farmer tilled tho land along with his slave or, i;
ho possessed more land than ho could manage, idaced the alavo-
eilheras a steward, or as a sort of lessee obliged to render up •
portion of tho produce-over a detached fann. 1 I.oueI. sh.vs wcr
obtained by the cariy victories of Rome over her Itdian ncig .bou;
DO largo number waa employed on tho small l.oldiUK» of Hit
DO largo . .
periods. But the oitonaion of properties
the hands of thli
132
SLAVERY
patricians, and the continual absences of citizens required by the
, expanding system of conquest, necessarily brought with them a
[demand for slave labour, which was increasingly supplied by-
■captives taken in war. Of the number furnished from this source
a few particulars from the time of the mature republic and the
first century of the empire will give some idea. In Epirus, after
the victories of .lEmilius Paullus, 150,000 captives were sold. The
prisoners at Aqua; Sextiie and Vercella were 90,000 Teutons and
60,000 Cimbri. Cffisar sold on a single occasion in Gaul 63,000
captives ; Augustus made 44,000 prisoners in the country of the
Salassi ; -after immense numbers had perished by famine and hard-
ship and in the combats of the arena, 97,000 slaves were acquired
by the Jewish war. But slavery, as Hume has shown, is
unfavourable to population, and even the wars of Rome were
insufficient to maintain the supply. Hence a regular commerce in
slaves was established, which was based on the " systematically-
prosecuted hunting of man," and indicated an entire perversion of
the primitive institution, which was essentially connected with
conquest. .The pirates sold great numbers of slaves at Delos,
where was the chief market for this kind of wares ; and these sales
went on as really, though more obscurely, after the successful expedi-
tion of Pompey. There was a regular importation at Rome of
slaves, brought to some extent from Africa, Spain, and Gaul, but
chiefly from Asiatic countries — Bithynia, Galatia, Cappadocia,
and Syria. A portorium — apparently one-eighth for eunuchs, one-
fortieth for others — was paid on thefr iraoort or export, and a
duty of 2 or 4 per cent, on their sale.
There were other sources from which slavery was alimented,
though of course in a much less degree. Certain offences reduced
the guilty persons to slavery (servi pcense), and they were employed
in public work in the quarries or the mines. Originally, a father
could sell his children. A creditor could hold his insolvent debtor
asi a slave, or sell him out of the city (trails Tiherim). The
enslavement of creditors, overwhelmed with usury in consequence
of losses by hostile raids or their own absence on military service,
led to the revolt of the Mons Sacer (493 B.C.). The Postelian law
(326 B.C.) restricted the creditor's lien (by virtue of a nexuin) to
the goods of his debtor, and enacted that for the future no debtor
should be put in chains ; but we hear of debtors addicli to their
creditors by the tribunals long after — even in the time of the Punic
Wars.
There were servi puhlici as well as privali. The service of the
,piagistrates was at first in the hands of freemen ; but the lower
offices, as of couriers, servants of the law courts, of prisons, and of
temples, were afterwards filled by slaves. The execution of public
(Works also came to be largely committed to them, — as the construc-
tion of roads, the cleansing of the sewers, and the maintenance of
the aqueducts. Both kinds of functions were discharged by slaves,
not only at Rome, but in the rural and provincial municipalities.
The slaves of a private Roman were divided- between th.e familia
riistica and the familia urbana. At the head of the familia
rustica was the viUicus, himself a slave, with the wife who was
given him at once to aid him and to bind him to his duties.
Under him were the several groups employed in the difl'erent
branches of the exploitation and the care of the cattle and flocks,
as well as those who kept or prepared the food, clothing, and tools
of the whole staflT and those who attended on the master in the
various species of rural sports. A slave prison (ergaslulum) was
part of such an establishment, and there were slaves whose office it
was to punish the offences of their fellows. To t\\i familia urharm
belonged those who discharged the duties of domestic attendance,
the service of the toilet, of the bath, of the table, of the kitchen,
besides the entertainment of the master and his guests by danc-
ing, singing, and other arts. There were, besides, the slaves who
accompanied the master and mistress out of doors, and who were
chosen for their beauty and grace as guards of honour, for their
strength as chairmen or porters, or for their readiness and address
in remembering names, delivering messages of courtesy, and the
like. There were also attached to a great household physicians,
artists, secretaries, librarians, copyists, preparers of parchment, as
well as pedagogues and preceptors of diiferent kinds, — readers,
grammarians, men of letteis and even philosophers, — all of servile
condition, besides accountants, managers, and agents for the
transaction of business. Actors, comic and tragic, pantomimi, and
the performers of the circus were commonly slaves, as were also
the gladiators. These last were chosen from the . most warlike
races — as the Samnites, Gauls, and Thracians. Familiee of
gladiators were kept by private speculators, who hired them out ;
they were sometimes -owned by men of high rank.
As to the numbers of slaves belonging to individual masters,
though we have no distinct general statement in the Roman
writers, several special examples and other indirect indications
serve to show that the wealthier men possessed very large /amiZfe.
iThis may be inferred from the columbaria of the house of Livia
and of other great houses. Vettius armed four hundred of his
own slaves when he entered on the revolt which was a prelude to
the Second Servile War. The slaves of Pedanius Secundu?, who. in
spite- of a threatened outbreak of the indignant populace, were ail
put to death because they had been under their master's roof when
he was murdered, were four hundred in number. Pliny tells as
that Caecilius, a freedman of the time of Augustus, left by his wiH
as many as 4116. The question as to the total number of slaves
at Rome or in Italy is a very difficult one, and it is not, perhaps,
possible to arrive with any degree of certainty at an approximate
estimate. Gibbon supposes that there were in the Roman world in
the reign of Claudius at least as many slaves as free inhabitants.
But Blair seems right in believing that this number, though prob-
ably correct for an earlier period, is much under the truth for the
age to which it is assigned. He fixes the proportion of slaves to
free men as that of three to one for the time between the conquest
of Greece (146 B.C.) and the reign of Alexander Severus (222-235
A.D. ). The entire number of slaves in Italy would thus have been,
in the reign of Claudius, 20,832,000. that of the free population
being 6,944,000.
By the original Roman law the master was clothed with';
absolute dominion over the slave, extending to the power of life
and death, which is not surprising when we consider the nature of
the patria potcslas. The slave coxild not possess property of any
kind ; whatever he acquired was legally his master's. He was,
however, in practice permitted to enjoy and accumulate chance
earnings or savings, or a share of what he produced, under the
name oi penulium. A master could not-enter into a contract with
his slave, nor could he accuse him of theft before the law ; for, if
the slave took anything, this was not a subtraction, but only s
displacement, of property. The union of a male and female slavf
had not the legal character of a marriage ; it was a cohabita-
tion (contubernium) merely which was tolerated, and might be
terminated at will, by the master ; a slave was, therefore, not
capable of the crime of adultery. Yet general sentiment seems
to have given a stronger sanction to this sort of connexion ; the
names of husband and wife are freely used in relation to' slaves on
the stage, and even in the laws, and in the language of the tombs.
For entering the military service or taking on him any state office
a slave was punished with death. He could not in general be
examined as a witness, except by torture. A master, when accused,
could offer his slaves for the "questiou," or demand for the same
purpose the slaves of another ; and, if in the latter case they were
injured or killed in the process, their owner was indemnified. A
slave could not accuse his master, except of adultery or incest
(under the latter name being included the violation of sacred
things or places) ; the case of high treason was afterwards added ti
these. An accused slave could not invoke the aid of the tribunea
The penalties of the law .or crime were more severe on guilt
slaves than on freemen; "majores nostri," say the legists, "i
omni supplicio severius servos quam liberos punierunt." Th
capital punishment of the freeman was by the sword or th
precipice, — of the slave by the axe or the cross. The lex Cornelia
punished the murder of a slave or a freeman alike ; but the master
who killed his own slave was not affected by this law.
Columella, like Xenophon, favours a certain friendliness and Treat-
familiarity in one's intercourse with his farm slaves. Cato ate and nient t
drank the same coarse victuals as his slaves, and even had the slave*,
children suckled by his wife, that they might imbibe a fondness
for the family. But that rigid old economist had a strict eye to
profit in all his dealings with them. He allowed the contubernium'
of male and female slaves at the price of a money payment from
their pecnlium. Columella regarded the gains from the bii'ths as
a sufficient motive for encouraging these unions, and thought that
mothers should be rewarded for their fecundity ; Varro, too, seeras
to have taken this view. The immense extension of the rural
estates (lalifundia) made it impossible for masters to know thuir
slaves, even if they were disposed to take trouble for the purpose.
ESective superintendence even by overseers became less easy ; the
use of chains was introduced, and these were worn not only in the
field during working hours but at night in the ergastulum whore
the labourers slept — a practice which PUny lamented as a
disgrace to agriculture. Urban slaves had probably often a life
as little enviable, especially those who worked at trades for
speculators. Even in private houses at Rome, so late as the time
of Ovid, the porter was chained. In the familia urbana the
favourites of the master had good treatment, and might exercise
some influence over him which would lead to their receiving
flattery and gifts from those who sought his vote or solicited his
support. Doubtless there was often genuine mutual aBTection;
slaves sometimes, as in noted instances during the civil wars,
showed the noblest spirit of devotion to their masters. Those who
were not inmates of the household, but were employed outside of
it as keepers of a shop or boat, chiefs of workshops, or clerks in a
mercantile business, had the advantage of ^eater freedom of
action. The slaves of the leno and the lanista wertf probably in
most cases not only degraded but unhappy. The lighter punish
ments inflicted by masters were commonly personal chastisement oi
banishment from the town house to rural labour ; the severer were
employment in the mill (pislrinum) or relegation to the mines or
SLAVERY
133
quarries. To the mines speculators also sent slaves ; they worked
half-naked, men and women, in chains, under the lash and guarded
by soldiers. Vcdius Pollio, in the time of Augustus, was said to
have thrown his slaves, condemned sometimes lor trivial mistakes
or even accidents, to the lampreys in his fishpond. Cato advised
the agriculturist to sell his old oxen and his old slaves, as well
as his sick ones ; and sick slaves were e-xposed in the island of
.ffisculapius in the Tiber ; by a decree of Claudius slaves so
exposed, if they rec'overed, could not bo veclairaed by their
masters.
Though the Roman slaves wore not, like the Spartan -Helots,
kept obedient by systematic terrorism, their large numbers were a
constant source of solicitude in the later period of the republic and
under the early empire. The law under which the slaves of
Pedanius were put to death, probably first made under Augustus
and more fully enacted under Nero, is suHicient proof of this
anxiety, which indeed is strongly stated by Tacitus in his
nanative of the facts. There had been many conspiracies
amongst the slaves in the course of Roman history, and some
for-n-dable insurrections. We hear of a conspiracy about 500 B.C.
and another in 419 B.C. ; again just before the sea-fight of Duilius
and between the battles of Trasimenus and Canute. In 198 B.C. a
servile war had almost broken out; in 196 B.C. there was a rising in
Etruria and in 185 B.C. in Apulia. The growth of the latifundia
made the slaves more and more numerous and formidable. Free
labour was discountenanced. Cato, Varro, and Columella all
agree that slave labour was to be preferred to free except in
unhealthy regions and for large occasional operations, which
probably transcended the capacity of the permanent /aint7ia ruslica.
Cicero and Livy bear testimony to the disappearance of a free
plebs from the country districts and its replacement by gangs of
slaves working on great estates. The policy of the Gracchi and
their successors of the popular party was opposed to this reduction
of the free working population, which they sought to counteract by
agrarian laws and by colonization on a large scale— projects which
could not be elfectively carried out until civil supremacy was
united with military power in the hands of a popular chief, and
■which, even when this condition was satisfied by the establishment
of the empire, were inadequate to meet the evil. The worst form of
prsedial slavery existed in Sicily, whither Mommsen supposes that
its peculiarly harsh features had been brought by the Carthagin-
ians. In Sicily, accordingly, the first really serious servile
insurrection? took place, at once provoked by the misery of the
slaves and facilitated by the habits of brigandage which, it is
said, the proprietors had tolerated and even encouraged as lighten-
ing the cost of subsistence of their slaves. The rising under
EuDus in 133 B.C. -was with some difficulty suppressed by
Rupilius. Partial revolts in Italy succeeded ; and then came the
second Sicilian insurrection under Trypho and Athenio, w-hrch,
after a severe struggle, was put down by Aquilius. These were
followed by the Servile War in Italy under Spartacus, which,
occurring at an otherwise critical period, severely tested the
military resources of Rome. In the subsequent civil conflicts the
aid of slaves was soiight by both parties, even by Marius himself,
and afterwaids by Catiline, though he finally rejected their
services. Clodius and Milo employed bands of gladiators in their
city riots, and this action on the part of the latter was approved
by Cicero. In the First Civil War they were to be found in both
camps, and the murderers of Ctesar were escorted to the Capitol
by gladiators. Antony, Octavius, and Sextus Pompeius employed
them in the Second Civil War ; and it is recorded by Augustus on
the Monumentum Ancyranum that he gave back to their masters
for punishment about 30,000 slaves who had absconded and borne
arms against the state. Under Tiberius, at the death of Caligula,
and in the reign of Nero there were threatening movements of the
slaves. In the wars from Otho to Vespasian they were employed,
as Tacitus tells us, even by the most scrupulous generals.
Of the moral influences of slavery we have already spoken. In
tire particular case of Rome it cannot be doubted that it largely
contributed to the impurities which disgraced private life, a.s seen
in~tho pages of Juvenal, Martial, and Petronius. It is shocking to
observe the tone in wliich Horace, so characterized by geniality
and bonhomie, speaks of the subjection of slaves to the brutal
pas.sions of their masters {Sat.,i. 2, 116). The hardening cfl'ect
of the system appears perhaps most strikingly in the barbarous
spectacles of the amphitheatre, in which even women took pleasure
and joined in condemning the gladiator who did not by his desperate
courage satisfy the demands of a sanguinary mob. It led, further,
to a contempt for industry, even agriculture being no longer held
in ssteem ("quum sit publico accepta et confirmata jam vulgaris
existimatio, rem rusticam sordidum onus," Col., i., pra'f. 20). Tho
existence of slavery, degrading froo labour while competing with
frcerucn for urban enployment, multiplied tho idle and worthless
Eopulationof Rome, who sought only " panem ct circenses." These
ad to bo supjiortcd by public distributions, which the emperors
found they could not discontinue, and by the bounty of patrons,
uid. Ulm tho " mean white.i" of modcin Amerira. formed a danger-
ous class, purchasable bv selfish ambitions and ready to aid in civil
disturbances.
Blair, in comparing the Greek and Roman systems of slavery,
points with justice to the greater facility and frequency of
emancipation as the great superiority of. the latter. No Roman
slave, ha says, "needed to despair of beconiii.g both a freeman
and a citizen." Manumission was of two kinds— ^uito or regular,
and miims justa. Of manuinissio jusla there were four modes : —
(1) by adoption, rarely resorted to; (2) by testament, already
recognized in the Twelve Tables ; (3) by census, which was of
exceptional use, and did not exist later than the time of Vespasian ;
and (4) by vindida, which was the usual form. In the last
method the master turned the slave round, with the words " libei
esto," in tho presence of the pra;tor, that olficer or his lictor at the
same time striking the slave with his rod. The manumissio viinui
justa was eflected by a sufficient manifestation of the will of the
master, as by letter, by words, by putting the pikus (or cap ol
liberty) on the slave, or by auy other formality which had by
usage become significant of the intention to liberate, or by such an
act as making the slave the guardian of his children. This extra-
legal sort of manumission was incomplete and precarious ; even
after the lex Julia Norbana (19 a.d. ), which assimilated the
position of those so liberated to that of the Latin colonists, under
the name of Latini juniores, the person remained in the eye of the
law a slave till his death and cou'd not dispose of his peculium.
A freedman, unless he became such by operation of law, re-
mained client of his master, and boih were bound by the mutual
obligations arising out of that relation. These obligations existed
also in the case of freedmen of the state, of cities, temples, and
corporations. The freedman took his former master's name; he
owed him deference {obsequium) and aid (officium) ; and neglect of
these obligations was punished, in extreme cases even with loss of
liberty. Conditions might be annexed by Ihe master to the gift of
freedom, as of continued residence with him, or of general service
or some particular duty to be performed, or of a money payment
to be made. But the praetor Rutilius, about the beginning of
the 1st century B.C., limited the excessive imposition of such
conditions, and his restrictions were carried further by the later
jurists and tho imperial constitutions. Failing natural heire of
an intestate freedman, the master, now patron, succeeded to his
property at his death ; and ho could dispose by will of only hall
his possessions, the patron receiving the other half. Freedmen
and their sons were subject to civil disabilities ; the third genera-
tion became ingmua (full citizens). Thus, by a process of constant
infiltration, the slave element tended to merge itself in the genera
popular body ; and Scipio jEmilianus could reply to the murmun
of a plebeian crowd, " Taceant quibus Italia noverca est; non
eSicietis ut solutos verear quos alligatos adduxi " (Val.'Mai., vi.
2, 3).
It was often a pecuniary advantage to the master to liberate his
slave ; he obtained a payment which enabled him to buy a substitute,
and at the same time gained a client. This of course presupposes the
recognition of the right of the slave to his peculium ; and the same
is implied in Cicero's statement that a diligent slave could in six
years purchase his freedom. Augustus set himself against the
undue multiplication of manumissions, probably considering the
rapid succession of new '•'tizens a source of social instability, and
recommended a sim'liir policy to his successor. The lex jElia
Sentia (about 3 a.d.) forbade manumission, except in strictly
limited cases, by masters under 20 years of age or of slaves under
30 ; and the lex Furia Caninia (about 7 A.D.) fixed the proportion
of a man's slaves which he could liberate by " testament, and
forbade more than a hundred being so enfranchised whatever
might be the number of the familia. Under tho empire the
freedmen rose steadily in influence; they became admissible to
tho rank of equites and to the senate ; they obtained provincial
governments, and wcro appointed to oificea in the imperial
household which virtually placed them at the head of adminis-
trative departments. Pallas and Narcissus are familiar types of
tiio unworthy members of this class, and there were doubtless
many outside of official life who exhibited the ostentation
and insolence of the • parvenu ; but there wore others who
were highly deserving of esteem. Freedmen of humbler rank
filled the minor oflices in tho administrative service, in tho city
cohorts, and in the army ; and wo shall find that they entered
largely into tho trades and professions when free labour began
to revive. They appeared also in literature ; wo hear of several
historical and biographical memoirs by freedmen under tho republic
and ihe early empire ; many of them were professors of grammar
and the kindred arts, as Tiro, tho anianuersia of Cicero, and
Ilyginus, tho librarian of Augustus; and names of a higher order
are those of Livius Andronicus, Cascllius. Statins, Torenco, Publim
Syrus, Phiedrua, and Epictetus.
In the 2d century of tho Christian oni wc find it marked change
with respect to tho institution of slavery, both in tho region of
thought and in that of law. Already tho principles of reason and
humanity had been applied to the subjoct hy ;1oneca who, what-
134
SLAVERY
ever we may think of him as a man, deserves our sraj itude for the
just an':' liberal seutinients he expressed respecting the slaves, who,
he sayc, should be treated as "humble friends," and especially for
his energetic reprobation of gladiatorial combats and of the
brutality of the public who enjoyed those sanguinary shows. But
it was in the 2d century, as we have said, that "the lictory
of moral ideas" in this, as in other departments of life became
"decisive. . . . Dio Chrysostom, the adviser of Trajan, is the
fii-st Greek writer who has pronounced the principle of slavery to
bo contrary to the law of nature" (Mark Pattison). And a
psraUel change is found in the practical policy of the state. The
military vocation of Rome was now felt to have reached its
normal limits ; and the emperors, understanding that, in the
future, industrial activity must prevail, prepared the abolition of
slavery as far as v. as then possible, by honouring the freedmon,
by protecting ihe slave against his master, and by facilitating
manumissions. The jurists who, in the absence of a recogni2eil
spiritual power, provisionally discharged in their own way the
office of systematizing practical morals, modified, by means of the
useful fiction of the jus nalurale, the presumptions of law and the
interpretation of doubtful instruments. ("Quod ad jus naturale
attinet, omnes homines requales sunt" — Ulpian. "Servitus est
constitutio juris gentium, qua quis dominio alieno contra naturam
subjicitur" — Florentinus. ) The general tendency both of the
imperial constitutions and of the maxims of the legists is in favour
of liberty. ("Nee ignotum est quod multa contra juris rigorem pro
libertate sint constituta " — Ulpian. ) The practices of exposure and
sale of children, and of giving them in pledge for debt, are for-
bidden. An edict of Diocletian forbade a free man to sell himself.
Manstealers or. kidnappers (plarjiarii) were punished with death.
The insolvent debtor was withdrawn from the yoke of his creditor.
While the slave trade was permitted, the atrocious mutilation of
boys and young men, too often practised, was punished with exile
and even with death. In redhibitory actions (for the annulment
of sales), if a slave were returned to the seller, so must also be
his parents, brothers, and personie contubemio conjuncise. In the
interpretation of testaments it was to be assumed that members
of the same family were not to be separated by the division of the
succession. The law also favoured in special cases the security of
the peculium, though iu general principle it stUl remained the
property of the master. The state granted to public slaves the
right of bequeathing half their possessions ; and private persons
sometimes permitted similar dispositions even to a greater extent,
though only within the familia. Hadrian took from masters the
power of life and death and abolished the subterranean prisons.
Antoninus Pius punished him who killed his own slave as if he
had killed another's. Already in the time of Nero the magistrates
-. had been ordered to receive the slave's" complaint of ill-treatment ;
■ and the lex Pctronia, belonging to the same or an earlier period,
forbade masters to hand over their slaves to combats with wild
'beasts. Antoninus directed that slaves treated with escesjivo
cruelty, who had taken refuge at an altar or imperial image, should
be sold ; and this provision was extended to cases in which the
master had employed a slave in a way degrading to him or beneath
his character. II. Aurelius gave to masters an action against
their slaves for any cause of complaint, thus bringing their relation
n\ore directly imder the surveillance of law and public opinion. •
A slave's oath could still not be taken in a court of law ; he was
interrogated by the "question"; but the emperors and jurists
, limited in various ways the application of torture, adding, how-
.ever, as we have mentioned, to the cases in which it could previously
be appealed to that of the-crime of majestas. For certain alleged
offences of the master the slave could bring an action, being repre-
sented for the purpose by an adscrtor. Emancipation was facilitated;
some of the old formalities were dispensed with ; obstacles to it were
removed, and legal difficulties solved in such a way as to further it.
The power of imposing conditions on testamentary manumissions
.was restricted, and these conditions interpreted in the sense most
favourable to freedom. The emperor could confer liberty by pre-
senting a gold ring to a slave with the consent of the master, and
the legal process called rcslUutio natc.lium made him a full citizen.
It was decided that liberty could not be forfeited even by a pre-
scription of sixty years' duration.
,_ The rise of Christianity in the Roman world still further
.improved the condition of the slave. The sentiments it created
j'were not only favourable to the humane treatment of the class iii
_^the present, but were the germs out of which its entire liberation
'was destined, at a later period, in part to arise. It is sometimes
unreasonably objected to the Christian church that it did not
'denounce slavery as a social crime and insist on its immediate
abolition, that on the contrary it recognized the institution,
ecclesiastical persons and societies themselves being owners of
slaves. "We have seen that slavery was a fundamental element of
t)ie old Roman constitution, not only incorporated with the laws,
but necessarily arising out of, and essential to, the military
mission of the state. When the work of conquest had been
tafficiently achieved, it could not be e.'ipected that a 'radical
alteration should be suddenly wrought either in the social system
v.hich was in harmony with it, or even in the general ideas which
had grown up under its influence. The latter would, indeed, be
gradually affected ; and accordingly we have observed a change
in the policy of the law, indicating a change in sentiment with
respect to the slave class, which does not appear to have been at
all due to Christian teaching, but to have arisen from the spon-
taneous influence of circumstances co-operating with the softened
manners which were inspired by a pacific regime. But the iustitif-
tion itself could not be at once seriously disturbed ; it was too
deeply rooted and too closely bound up with the whole existing
order of things. If it could have been immediately abolished, the
results must have been disastrous, most of all to the slave popula-
tion itself. Before that end could be accomplished, an essentially
new social situation must come into existence; society must be
organized for defence as it had previously been for conquest ;
and this transformation could not be wrought in a day. But in
the meantime much mi^ht be done towards further mitigating the
evils of slavery, especially by impressing on master and slave their
relative duties and controlling their behaviour towards one another
by the exercise of an independent moral authority. This was the
work open to the Christian priesthood, and it cannot be denied
that it was well discharged. Whilst the fathers agree with the
Stoics of the 2d century in representing slavery as an indifferent
circumstance in the eye of religion and moralitj', the contempt for
the class which the Stoics too often exhibited is in them replaced
by a genuine sympathy. They protested against the multiplica-
tion of slaves from motives of vanity in the houses of the great,
against the gladiatorial combats (ultimately -abolished by the noble
self-devotion of a monk), and against the consignment of slaves to
the theatrical profession, which was often a school of corruption.
The church also encouraged the emancipation of individual slaves
and the redemption of captives. And its influence- is to be seen in
the legislation of the Christian emperors, which softened some of
the harshest features that still marked the institution. There is
not, indeed, a uniform advance in this legislation ; there is eten
retrogression in some pai'tictilars under Constantino, as in his
renewed permission to fathers to sell their children and to the
finder of an exposed child to make it his slave— enactments which
it is sometimes sought to excuse by the prevailing poverty of his
period. But a stronger influence of Christianity appears in
Theodosius, and this influence is at the highest in the legislation
of Justinian. Its systematic effort is, in his own words, "pro
libertato, quam et fovere et tuori Romanis legibus et prsecipuo
nostro numini peculiare est." Law still refused in general to
recognize the marriages of slaves ; but Justinian gave them a legal
value after emancipation in establishing rights of succession.
Unions between slaves and free women, or between a freeman and
the female slave of another, continued to be forbidden, and were
long punished in certain circumstances Tilth atrocious severity, i
As witness, the slave was stUl subject to the question ; as criminal, '
he was .' punished with greater rigouf than the freeman. If he
accused his master of a crime, unless the charge was of treason,
he was burut. B\it he could maintain a legal claim to his own
liberty, not now merely through an adscrtor, but in person. A
female slave was still held incapable of the offence of adultery ;
but Justinian visited with death alike the rape of a slave or freed-
woman and that of a free maiden. Already the master who killed
his slave had been punished as for homicide, except in the case
of his unintended death under correction ; Constantine treated as
homicide a number of specially-enamerated acts of cruelty. Even
under Theodosius the combats of the amphitheatre were permitted,
if not encouraged, by the state authorities ; these sports were still
expected from the candidates for public honours. Combats of men
W'ith beasts were longest continued ; they had not ceased even in
the early years of the reign of Justinian. A new process of manu-
mission was now established, to be performed in the churches
through the intervention of the ministers of religion ; and it was
provided that clerics could at any time by mere expression of will
liberate their slaves. Slaves who were admitted to holy orders, or
who entered a monastery, became freemen, under certain restric-
tions framed to prevent fraud or injustice. Justinian abolished
the personal conditions which the legislation of Augustus had
required to be satisfied by the master who emancipated and the
slave who was manumitted, and removed the limitation of number.
The liberated slave, whatever the process by which he had obtained
his freedom, became at once a full citizen, his former master, how-
ever, retaining the right of patronage, the abolition of which
would probably have discouraged emancipation.
The slavery of Ibe working classes, justly de.scribed by
Hume as the most important difference between the
social life of anciquity and that of modern times, was not
directly changed into the system of personal freedom.
There ■was an intermediate stage which has not always
been sufficiently discriminated from slavery, though the
SLAVERY
135
confusion of the two leads to endless misconceptions. We
mean the regime of serfdom. In studying the origin of
this transitional state of things, four principal considerations
have to be kept in view. (1) As Gibbon observes, the sub-
stantia! completion of the Roman system of conquest and
incorporation reduced the supply of slaves by restricting
the dealings in them to such trade as took place within
the now fixed limits of the empire. It is true that, when
the barbarian invasions began in the 3d century, many
«aptives were made, who, when not enrolled in the army,
were employed in agriculture or domestic service ; but the
regular importation was greatly and increasingly dimin-
ished, and the Romans were obliged to have recourse to
'•' the milder but more tedious method of propagation."
The effect of this was to improve the condition of the
slave by rendering his existence an object of greater
value to his master. It tended, indeed, directly to the
transformation of slavery into serfdom by making it the
interest of each family to preserve indefinitely its owr
hereditary slaves, who could not be replaced except with
difficulty and at great expense. The abolition of the
txternal slave trade tended, in fact, to put an end to
internal sales, and the slaves became attached to the
households or lands of their masters. (2) The diminished
supply of slaves further acted in the direction of the
rehabilitation of free labour. A general movement of this
kind is noticeable from the 2d century onwards. Freemen
had always been to some extent employed in the public
service — (a) as subordinate assistants to the magistrates
and priests ; the places of scribes, viatores, criers could be
filled only by citizens ; the apparitors attached to the
new imperial administration wore also free plebeians, with
slaves in the lower ranks ; but these apparitorships were
usually held by frecdmcn. So also (b) public works were
in the 2d century divided among.'t corporations of free
plebeians, with public slaves under them. In private
service the superior posts were often fiUed by freedmen ;
the higher arts — as medicine, grammar, painting — were
partly in the hands of freedmen and even of ingienui ; the
more successful actors and gladiators were often freedmen.
In the factories or workshops kept by wealthy persons
slave labour was mainly employed ; but free artisans
sometimes offered their services to these establishments or
formed associations to compete with them. We have seen
that free persons had aU along been to some extent
employed in the cultivation of land as hired labourers,
and, as we shall presently find, also as tenants on the
great estates. How all this operated we shall understand
when we examine the remarkable organization of the state
introduced by Diocletian and his successors. (3) This
organization established in the Roman world a personal
and hereditary fixity of professions and situations which
was not very far removed from the caste system of the
East. The purpose of this was doubtless to resist by a
strong internal consolidation the shock of the invasions, to
secure public order, to enforce industrious habits, and to
guarantee the financial resources of the state. Personal
independence was largely sacrificed, but those still more
important ends were in a groat measure attained. The all-
pervading nature of this discipline will be understood
Rom the following particulars. Members of the admin-
istrative service were absolutely bound to their employ-
ments ; they could not choose their wives or marry their
daughters out of the collegia to which they respectively
belonged, and they transmitted their obligations to their
«hildren. li they abandoned their posts, they were
rought for everywhere and forced to return. In muni-
ftipalities, even the curialen, or members of the local
nenates, were bound to their places and their functions;
there were other members of the municipal service who
might supply a substitute on condition of resignmg „j him
their lands, but this power was rarely used : they commonly
remained in their posts ; their families, too, were bound to
remain ; they were attached to the collegia or other bodies
to which they belonged. The soldier, procured for the
army by conscription, served as long as his age fitted him
for his duties, and his sons were bound to similar service.
The same sort of compulsion appears to have been exercised
upon those belonging to, at least, such free industrial
corporations as were recognized and regulated by the state.
Every one was treated, in fact, as a servant of -the state,
and was bound to furnish labour or money, or both ; and
the nature of his labour was permanently fixed for him;
he was, in the language of the law, '"^conditionis laqueia
irretitus." . This general system, by diminishing the free-
man's mastery over himself and his power to determins
his occupation, reduced the interval between him and the
slave ; and the latter on the one hand, the free domestic
servant and workshop labourer on the other, both passed
insensibly into the common condition of serfdom. (4) The
cftrresponding change, in the case of the rural slaves, took
place through their being merged in the order of coloni.
The Roman colonus was originally a free person who took
land on lease, contracting to pay to the proprietor either
a fixed sum annually or (when a colomis parliarius) a
certain proportion of the produce of the farm. Under the
emperorsof thc4thcenturythenamedesignateda cultivator,
who, though personally free, was attached to the soil, and
transmitted his condition to his descendants; and this
became the regular status of the great mass of Roman
cultivators. In sanctioning this personal and hereditary
fixity, the law probably only recognized a tate of things
which had previously existed, having bc^u spontaneously
brought about by the circumstances of society, and
especially by the needs of agriculture. The class of coloni
appears to have been composed partly of tenants by con-
tract who had incurred large arrears of rent and were
detained on the estates as debtors (obairati), partly of
foreign captives or immigrants who were settled in this
condition on the land, and partly 6i small proprietors
and other poor men who voluntarily adopted the status
as an improvement ia their position. They paid a fixed
proportion of the produce (pars agraria) to the owner of
the estate, and gave a determinate amount o' labour
(operx) on the portion of the domain which he kept in
his own hands (majisus dominicus). The law for a long
time took no notice of these customary tenures, and did
not systematically constitute them until the 4th century.
It was indeed the requirements of the fiscus and the
conscription which impelled the imperial Government ti
regulate the system. The coloni were inscribed (adicripii)
on the registers of the census as paying taxes to the state,
for which the proprietor was responsible, reimbursing
himself for the amount. In a constitution of Constantine
(332 A.D.) we find the colohus recognized as permanently
attached to the land. If he abandoned his holding he was
brought back and punished ; and any one who received
him had not only to restore him but to pay a penalty.
Ho could not marry out of the domain ; if ho took for
wife a colona of another proprietor, she was restored to
her original locality, and the offspring of the union were
divided between the estates. The children of a colonus
were fi.xed in the same status, and could not quit the
property to which they belonged. They and their de-
scendants were retained, in the worda of a law of
Theodosius, " quodam aiternitatis jure," and by no process
could be relieved from their obligations. By a law of
Anastasius, at the end of the ."jth centUry, a colonus who
had voluntarily come info an estate was by a tenure of
thirty yearsfor ever attached to it. The muster {dfi"ii^ vA
136
SLAVERY
could inflict on his coloni "molerate chastisement," and
could chain them if they attempted to escape, but they
had a legal remedy against him for unjust demands
or injury to them or theirs. In no case could the rent
or the labour dues be increased. The colonus could
possess property of his own, but could not alienate it
■without the consent of the master. Thus, whilst the
members of the class were personally free, their condition
Lad some incidents of a semi-servile character. They
are actually designated by Theodosius, though the lax
language of the codes must not be taken too literally,
" servi terrae cui nati sunt." And ' Salvian treats the
proposition "coloni divitum Hunt" as equivalent to
"vertuntur in servos." This is iudeed an exaggeration;
a deduction must always be made from the phrases of the
mediaeval Jeremiah ; the colonatus was not an oppressive
system ; it afforded, on the contrary, real security against
unreasonable demands and wanton disturbance, and it
"was a great advance on the system of cultivation by the
/amilia rustica. But the point which it is important for
our present purpose to observe is, that there was a certain
approximation between the condition of the colonus and
the slave which tended towards , the fusion of_ both in a
single class. To make this plain, we must go a' little
further into detail.
Besides the coloni there were on a great estate — and
those of the 4th century were on a specially large scale —
a number of prsdial slaves, who worked collectively under
overseers on the part of the property which the owner
himself cultivated. But it was a common practice to
settle certain of the slaves (and possibly also of the freed-
men) on other portions of the estate, giving them small
farms on conditions similar to those to which the coloni
were subject. These slaves are, in fact, described by
Ulpian AS quasi coloni. They had their own households
and were hence distinguished as casati. In law these
slaves were at first absolutely at the disposal of their
masters ; they had no property in the strict sense of the
word, and could be sold to another proprietor and
separated from their families. But the landlord's interest
and the general tone of feeling alike modified practice
even before the intervention of legislation ; they were
habitually continued in their holdings, arfd- capie to
possess in fact a perpetual and hereditary enjoyment of
them. By a law of Valentinian I. (377) the sale of
these slaves was interdicted unless the land they occupied
were at the same time sold. The legal distinction between
the coloni and the slave tenants c ntinued to exist after
the invasions ; but the practical difference was greatly
attenuated. The colonus often occupied a servile mansus,
and the slave a mansus originally appropriated to a
colonus. Intermarriages of the two classes became
frequent. Already at the end of the 7th century it does
not appear that the distinction between , them had any
substantial existence. The servile tenures were, no less
than the others, stable and hereditary; and the charges to
be borne by the former were not necessarily the heavier.
Whilst giving their due weight to the social and
economic circumstances which tended thus to merge the
free labourer and colonus on the one hand and the slave
on the other in a common class of serfs, we must never
leave out of account the directly moral agencies which
worked towards the same result by modifying slavery.
Nor ought we to have in view only the influence of
Chrbtian doctrine and precept considered in themselves;
we must regard them as constantly applied in daily life by
an independent spiritual order, which was revered alike
by the two classes whose relations it assisted in regulating,
and whose general attitude towards slavery is sufficiently
shown by the celebrated declaration of Gregory the Great.
A review oi what has been said will make it plain that
the Northern invasions had little to do with the transitiou
from slavery to serfdom. Only two modes have beea
suggested in which they may possibly have accelerated
the change. It is not likely that the newly established
proprietors would understand, or respect in practice, nice
distinctions between classes of cultivators ; they would
probably regard the coloni and slaves, now that their
conditions were so much assimilated, as standing' oti the
same, basis. And, secondly, the Germans, if we may
believe Tacitus, had in their original seats no menial
slaves, whUst, on the other hand, they were familiar with
the system of slaves settled on separate portions of a
domain and paying a fixed share of the produce to its
owner. There may be a certain value in these .considera-
tions. But, on the whole, it appears that, as in the case
of the rise of the feudal system generally, so in the
particular respect of the qualified personal freedom which
accompanied it, the influence of the Northern nations was
really of little account, and that both changes would have
equally, though perhaps not so speedily, taken place if the
invasions had never occurred.
Whilst ancient slavery was, as we have seen, a system
fitted to endure under given social conditions, and had
a -definite political function to fulfil, serfdom, which
succeeded when that function was exhausted, was a
merely transitory condition, with no other destination
than that of leading the working population up to a state
of entire personal freedom. How the serf in cities and
towns became a free labourer for hire can be easily con-
ceived ; he doubtless in many cases purchased his Uberty
out of his earnings, and in others it was not the master's
interest to retain his services at the cost of his main-
tenance. The emancipation of this entire class was
favoured by the movement (not, however, to be confounded
wth it) which established free industrial communities
and gave them municipal jurisdiction. But it is very
difficult to trace the steps by which the rural serf was
transmuted into a free tenant. " The time and manner,"
says Adam Smith, " in which so important a revolution
was brought about is one of the most obscure points in
modern history." Smith himself attributes the change to
two causes — (1) the greater advantage to the proprietor
derived from the exertions of the cultivator when he
worked entirely for himself, and (2) the encouragement
which sovereigns, jealous of the great lords, gave to the
villeins (under which term Smith seems to comprehend
the whole mixed class of non-free tenants) to encroach on
their authority. To these economic and political reasons,
though doubtless real and important. Smith appears to
attribute too exclusive an efficacy, neglecting the moral
and religious causes which conspired to the same result,
especially the personal influence of the clergy, who were
natural mediators between the serfs and the proprietors.
The serfs were best treated on the ecclesiastical estates,
and many on private properties were liberated " pro amore
Dei " and " pro remedio animte."
Let us examine more particularly the circumstances oG I
the transition in France and in England.
M. Guerard has shown th t from the conquest by Caesar to the"
abolition of feudalism there was a steady improvement in the con-',
dition of the class originally enslaved. He distinguishes three
periods — one of slavery proper, lasting till the conquest of Gaiil by
the barbarians ; the second, ending ibout the close of the reign of
Charles the Bald (d. 877), in which slavery is replaced by an
intermediate state which he calls by the indeterminate name of
" servitude'," the rights of the servus being recognized, respected,-)
and protected, if not yet in a sufficient degree by the civil laws, at
least by those of the church and by social manners ; and a third in
which, under the developed regime of feudalism, serfdom proper ia
fully established and the serf-tenant has become simply a tributary
under various appellations (homme de corps or de p6U. main-
SLAVERY
137
morlai'c, taillaUc, serf, vilain). The three personal^ conditions
here described coexisted to some extent in all tneso periods, one of
them^' however, greatly preponderating in each. Towards the end
of the 9th century the serf-tenants were already proprietors of their
holdings ; nnder the third dynasty they were rather subjects than
tenants, and the dues they paid were rather taxes than rents ; they
were, in short, vassals occupying the lowest round of the feudal
ladder. Gu^rard enumerates as immediate causes which led to the
liberation of serfs (besides the master's voluntary gift or bequest)
thei? flight, — with the prescription which arose after a certain
interval of: absence, — ordination, redemption by themselves or
others, marringes with women of higher status, and the action of
law in the case of certain wrongs inflicted by the master. The
church co-operated to the same result, as might be sliown by many
instances. Thus St Benedict of Aniane (d. 821), the reformer of
the monasteries in the Carolingian territories, received a number
of donations of lands from the faitliful; but, whilst accepting them
for his religious establishments, he enfrqinclused the serfs who
inhabited them. All the serfs, not merely in a village, bourg, or
city, but in whole districts, were liberated by charters of sovereigns
or lords. Such documents are most common in the 13th century.
The general edicts of Louis X. (1315) and Philip V. (1318) are little
more than recognitions of a fait accompli, and were dictated, at
least in part, by financial motives. Some relics of serfdom con-
tinued to exist in local customs down to the Revolution, and were
not abolished till the night of the 4th August 1789. But these
survivals do not affect the truth of the proposition that the work
of emancipation was essentially accomplished early in the 14th
century.
Guirard has observed on the difficulty created by the ambiguity
of the word sermts in the mediaival authorities. In the study of
English serfdom, even eminent writers like Hobertson, Ilallani,
and Kemble have obscured the subject by the use of the term
slave, sometimes in its proper sense, sometimes in relation to the
serf. Dr Stubbs has avoided this equivocal nomenclature, and by
attending more to social fact than to the letter of the law has
placed the history of the class in a clear light. The slaves of
Anglo-Saxoii times were " regarded as the stock of their owner; . . .
their offences against a third person he must answer for, as for the
mischief (lone by his cattle; . . . they had no credibility, no legal
rights ; wrongs done to them were regarded as wrongs done to their
master." Practice, indeed, was kinder to them than legal theory;
as in the case of the Roman peculium, they were " in some un-
explained way " allowed to keep their savings, and so to purchase
their freedom ; and " the spiritual law could enforce a penance on
the master for ill-treating them." There were laws of Ethelbert
and Canute forbidding the sale of men to heathen masters, and the
slave trade, the principal seat of which was Bristol, was put down
by the preaching of St Wulfstan. The villein of Domesday Book
is not a slave; ne represents the Anglo-Saxon ccorl; he is an irre-
movable cultivator, now regarded as customary tenant of a lord.
The Norman knights probably confounded with the villanus the
bordarii and other tenants who stood oi. less favourable footing.
Whilst the free ceorl became a villein, the scrvus (thcow) dis-
eppeared altogether. The position which the class constituted by
this fusion came to occupy was one " compatible with much personal
comfort and some social ambition." The villeins "were safe in
the possession of their homes ; they had a remedy against the
violence of their masters ; they could, if they chose to renounce
their holdings and take refuge in a town, become members of the
guild, and there, when unclaimed for a year and a day, obtain the
full rights of freemen; they could obtain manumission by the
intervention of the church, which always proclaimed the liberation
of the vilh'in to be a work of merit on the part of the master. . . .
Under a fairly good lord, under a monastery or a college, the
villein enjoyed immunities and security that might be envied by
his superiors ; he had a ready tribunal for his wrongs, a voice in
the management of his village; he might with a little contrivance
redeem his children and start them in a higher state of life."
Walter Map declares that in his time (12th ceutury) the villeins
were educating their ignoble offspring in the liberal arts. In the
early part of the 14th century " it was by a mere legal form that
the villeins were described as less than free," In the reign of
Richard 11. it seems that " the legal theory of their status has
become hardened and sharpened so as to warrant almost wanton
oppression ; " but social causes, on the other hand, have ameliorated
their actual lot. It was not their normal condition that led to
the insurrection of 1381, but the enforcement of (the Statute of
Labourers and the attempt of the lords to reassert legal claims which
wore practically obsolete. Serfdom died out in England without any
Bpecinl legislation against it. It survived in exceptional instances,
as in Krance; Hallam mentions as the latest deed of enfranchise-
ment one of Eliziibcth in 1574 in favour of the bondmen on some
of her manors ; and it appears that in Scotland the workers in coal
and salt mines were in a state of serfdom until they were liberated
by Acts of the 15th and 39lh years of the rci^n of George 111.
Esseiitinlly similar movements took place in the other countries
of the West. In Italy " the 11th and 12th centuries," says Hallam,
" saw the number of slaves " (by which word he means serfs) " begin
to decrease ; early in the 15th a writer quoted by JIuratori t>peaks
of them as no longer existing. . . . The greater part," lie adds, "of
the peasants in some countries of Germany had acquired their
liberty before the end of the 13th century ; in other parts . . . they
remained in a sort of villenage till the present age." The most
rigorous forms of serfdom {Lcibcigcnschafl) existed in those German
districts which were once Wendish, — as Lusatia, Pomerania, and
Mecklenburg,— and in Holstein. The last remains of the system in
Germany were abolished in 1832 and 1848. In Castile the serfs
were slowdy converted into solariegos, who cultivated the land of
the lord under obligations similar to these of the colonus. Alphonso
X. (El Sabio) declared that the solariego could quit his holding
when he wished, though ho could not alienate it or demand
anything for his improvements. Alphonso XI. (El Justiciero)
decreed that no lord should tike the solar (holding) from tho
tenant, nor from his sons or grandsons, so long as they paid the
fixed dues. They thus became irremovable, and their tenures
were hereditary.
By these gradual processes every form of servitude dis-
appeared from the social order of western Europe, whilst
at the same time was bequeathed to the modern world
the inexorable problem, still but partially solved, of the
definitive position of the classes whose origin is traceable
to that condition.
But not very long after the disappearance of serfdom Modem
in the most advanced communities comes into sight the slave
new system ot colonial slavery, which, instead of being the ' *"
spontaneous outgrowth of social necessities and subserving
a temporary need of human development, was politically
as well as morally a monstrous aberration, and never pro-
duced anything but evil.
In 1442, when the Portuguese under Prince Henry the Spanish
Navigator were exploring the Atlantic coast of Africa, one colonies,
of his officers, Antam Gonsalves, who had captured some
Moors, was directed by the prince to carry them back to
Africa. He received from the floors in exchange for
them ten blacks and a quantity of gold dust. This
excited the cupidity of his fellow-countrymen ; and they
fitted out a large number of ships for the trade, and built
several forts on the African coast. Many negroes were
brought into Spain from these Portuguese settlements, and
the colonial slave trade first appears in the form of the
introduction into the newly-discovered western world ot
children or descendants of these negroes. When Ovandn
was sent out in 1502 as governor of Hispaniola, whilst
regulations, destined to prove illusory, were made for the
protection of the natives of the island, permission was
given to carry to the colony negro slaves, 'born in Seville
and other parts of Spain, who had been instructed in tho
Christian faith. It appears from a letter of Ovando in
1503 that there were at that time numbers of negroes in
Hispaniola ; he requested that no more might be per-
mitted to be brought out. In 1510 and the following
years King Ferdinand ordered a number of Africans to
be sent to that colony for the working of the mines.
Before this time Columbus had proposed an exchange
ot his Carib prisoners as slaves against live stock to be
furnished to Hispaniola by Spanish merchants. Infidels,
ho represented, would thus bo converted, tho royal treasury
enriched by a duty on the slaves, and tho colonists sup-
plied with live slock free of expense. He actually sent
home in the ships of Antonio Torres, in 1494, above 500
Indian prisoners taken in wars with tho caciques, who, he
suggested, might be sold as slaves at Seville. But, after
a royal order had been issued for their sale. Queen Isabella,
interested by what she had heard of tho gentle and iios-
pitable character of tho natives and of their docility, pror
cured a letter to bo written to Bishop Fonseca, tho super-
intendent of Indian affairs, suspending tho order until
inquiry should bo made into the causes for which they
had been made prisoners, and into the lawfulness of their
sale. Theologians ditTered on the latter question, and
X.Ml. — iS
138
SLAV E Li 1
isabella directed that tliese Indians sliould be sent back
to their native country, and tliat a policy of conciliation
should be followed there instead of one of severity.
Bartolomd de las Casas, the celebrated bishop of Chiapa,
accompanied Ovando to Hispaniola, and was a witness of
the cruelties from which the Indians suffered under his
administration. He came to Spain in 1517 to obtain
measures in their favour, and he then made the suggestion
to Charles that each Spanish resident in Hispaniola should
have licence to import a dozen negro slaves. Las Casas,
in his Historia de las Tndias (lib. iii. cap. 101), frankly
confesses the grave error into which he thus fell. "■This
advice that licence should be given to bring negro slaves
to these lands the clerigo Casas first gave, not consider-
ing the injustice with which the Portuguese take them
and make them slaves ; which advice, after he had appre-
hended the nature of the thing, he would not have given
for all he had in the world." Other good men appear to
have given similar advice about the .same time, and, as
has been shown, the practice was not absolutely new ;
indeed the young king had in 1516, whilst still in Flanders,
granted licences to his courtiers for the importation of
negroes into the colonies, though Ximencs, as regent of
Castile, by a decree of tlie came year forbade tlie practice.
The suggestion of Las Casas was no doubt made on the
ground that the negroes could, better than the Indians,
bear the labour in the mines, which was rapidly exhaust-
ing the numbers of the latter.' He has sometimes on
this plea been exonerated from all censure; but, as we
have seen, he did not exculpate himself ; and, though
entitled to honour for the zeal and perseverance which he
showed on behalf of the natives of the New World, he
must in justice bear the blame due from posterity for
his violation or neglect of moral principle. His advice
was unfortunately adopted.- "Charles," says Eobertson,
," granted a patent to one of his Flemish favourites, con-
taining an exclusive right " of supplying 4000 negroes
annually to Hispaniola, Cuba, Jamaica, and Porto PJco.
"The favourite sold his patent to some Genoese mer-
chants for 25,000 ducats"; these merchants obtained the
slaves from the Portuguese ; and thus was first brought
.into a systematic form that odious "commerce betweea
Africa and America which has since been carried on to
such an amazing extent," the action of the Spaniards
being "imitated by all the nations of Europe who have
acquired territories in the warmer climates of the New
i-World."
The first Englishm.Tn who engaged in the hateful traffic was
Captain Jolin Hawkins (y. v.). 'The Englisli slave traders were
at first altogetfier occupied in supplying tiie Spauish settlements.
Indeed tlie reigu of Elizabetli passed without any Englisli colony
having been permanently established in America. But in 1620
a Dutch ship from the coast of Guinea visited Jamestown in
Virginia, and sold a part of her cargo of negroes to the tobacco-
planters. This was the first beginning of slavery in British America ;
the number of negroes was afterwards continually increased^
though apparently at first slowly — by importation, and the field-
labour was more and more performed by servile hands, so that
in 1790 the State of Virginia, which is only a small part of the
original colony so iiamed, contained 200,000 negroes.
The African trade of England was long in the hands of exclusive
companies ; but by an Act of the first year of William and Mary it
hocame free and open to all subjects of the crown. The African
Company, however, continued to exist, and obtained from time to
time large parliamentary grants. By the treaty of Utrecht the
asiento,- or contract for supplying the Spanish colonies with 4800
^ The Spaniiirds, in the space of fifteen years sul)sequent to the
discovery of the West Indies, hail, as Robertson mentions, reduced the
natives of Hispaniola fiom a million to 60,000.
- The .Spaniards were prevented from forming establishments on
tbe African coast by the Bull of Demarcation ("Inter ca:tera") of
Pope Alexander VI. (1493), which forbade their acquiring territory
to the east of the meridian line of 100 miles west of the Azores.
:They could therefore supply their American possessions with slaves
only by contracts with other powers.
negroes annually, which had previously passea from the Dutch to
the Fruiicli, was transferred to Great Britain ; an English company
was to enjoy the monopoly for a period of thirty yeare from 1st'
May 1713. But the contract came to an end in 1739, when thtf
complaints of the English merchants on one side and of th«
Spanish officials on the other rase to such a height that Philip V.'
declared his determination to revoke the nsiento, and Sir Robert;
Walpole was forced by popular feeling into war with Spain.'
Between 1630 and 1700 about 140,000 negroes were exported by*
the African Companv, and 160,000 more by private adventnrcrs,'
making a tot.al of 300,000. Between 1700 and the end of 1786 as
many as 610,000 were transported to Jamaica alone, which hail,
been an English possession since 1655. Bryan Edwards cstimateiL
the total import into all the British colonics of Amciica and thel
West Indies from 16S0 to 1786 at 2,130,000, being an annualj
average of 20,095. But this, he admits, is much less than was in
his time commonly supposed. The liritish slave trade reached its
utmost extension shortly before the War of American Independence.
It was then carried on principally from Liverpool, but also from
London, Bristol, and Lancaster ; the entire number of slave shins
sailing from those ports was 192, and in them space was jirovided
for the transport ot 47,146 negroes. During the war the number
decreased, but on its termination the trade immediately revived,
When Edwards wrote (1791), the number of European factories or,
the coasts of Africa was 40; of these 14 were English, 3 French,
15 Dutch, 4 Portuguese, and 4 Danish. As correct a notion .as cau
be obtained of the numbers annually exported from the continent
about the year 1790 by traders of the several European countries
engaged in the tratfic is supplied by the following slatument: —
" By the British, 38,000 ; by the French, 20,000 ; by the Dutch,
4000; by the Danes, 2000; by the Portuguese, 10,000; total
71,000." Thus more than half the trade was in British hands.
"At present," said Robertson, writing in 1791, "the number of
negro slaves in the settlements of Great Britain and Franco in the
West Indies exceeds a million; and, as the establishment o(
servitude has been found, both in ancient and modern times,!
extremely unfavourable to population, it requires an annual im-
])ortatiou of at least 58,000 to keep up the stock." The slaves'
in the Spanish dominions and in North America, ho thought,!
probably amounted to an additional million.
The hunting and stealing of human beings to make them slaves, Effect
which were already practised in Africa for the supply of the central the si:
states of that continent, as well as of the markets of northern trftd&
Africa, Turkey, and other Mohammedan countries, were greatly
aggravated by the demand of the European colonies. The native
chiefs engaged in forays, sometimes even on their own subjects, for
the purpose of procuring slaves to be exchanged for Western com-!
modities. They often set fire to a village by night and captured,
the inhabitants when trying to escape. Thus all that was shock-
ing in too barbarism of Africa was multiplied and intensified by'
this foreign stimulation. To the miseries thus produced, and to
those suttered by the captives in their removal to the coast were
added the horrors of the middle passage. Exclusive of the slaves
who died before they sailed from Africa, 12i per cent, were lost
during their pass.age to the West Indies ; at Jamaica 4^ per cent,
died whilst in the harbours or before the sale, and one-third mora
in the "seasoning." Thu.s, out of every lot of 100 shipped from
Afri.a 17 died in about 9 weeks, and not more than 50 lived to
be ett'cctive labourers in the islands. The circumstances of theirj
subsequent life on the plantations were not favourable to the in-
cr-jaseof their numbers. In Jamaica there were in 1690 40,000;'
from that year till 1820 there were imported 800,000; yet at the
Utter date tficre were only 340,000 in the island. One cause
ivhicli prevented the natural increase of population was the in-
equality iu the numbers of the sexes ; in Jamaica alone there was
in 1789 an excess of 30,000 males.
It may be truly said that from the latter part of the
17th century, when the nature of the slave trade began to
be understood by the public, all that was best in England,
was adverse to it. Among those who denounced it — j
besides some whose names are now little known, but are'
recorded with the honour they deserve in the pages of
Clarkson— were Baxter, Sir Richard Steele (in Inkle and ^
Yarico), the poets Southern (in Oroonoko), Pope, Thomson,
Shenstone, Dyer, Savage, and above all Covvper (see bis '
Charily, and Task, bk. 2), Thomas Day (author of Sand-^
ford and Merion), Sterne, Warburton, Hutcheson, Beattie,
John Wesley, Whitfield, Adam Smith, Jlillar, Robertson,"
Dr Johnson, Pa;ley, Gregory, Gilbert Wakefield, Bishop
Porteus, Dean Tucker. The question of ^the legal exist-
ence of slavery in Great Britain and Ireland was raised
in consequence of an opinion given in 1729 by York and
Talbot, attorney-general and solicitor-general at the time,
SLAVERY
139
to\he effect thoi a slave by coming into those countries from
the West Indies did not become free, and might be com-
pelled by his master to return to the plantations. Chief-
Justice Holt had expressed a contrary opinion ; and the
matter was brought to a final issue by Mr Granville
Sharp in the case of the negro Somerset. ' It v is decided
by Lore" Mansfield, in the name of the whole bench, on
June 22d 1772, that as soon as a slave set his foot on
the soil of the British islands he became free. In 1776
it was moved in the House of Commons by David Hartley,
son of the author of Obsei-vations on Man, that " the slave
trade was contrary to the laws of God and the rights of
men " ; but this motion — the first which was made on the
subject — failed ; public opinion on the question was far
from being yet fully ripe.
The first persons in England who took united practical
action against the slave trade were the Quakers, following
the expression of sentiment which had, emanated so early
as 1671 from their founder George Fox. In 1727 they
declared it to be "not a commendable or allowed"
practice; in 1761 they excluded from their Society all
who should bo found concerned in it, and issued appeals
to their members and the public against the system. In
7.783 there was formed amongst them an association " for
the relief and liberation of the negro slaves in the West
/indies, and for tire discouragement of the slave trade on
'ehe coast of Africa." This was the first society established
In England for the purpose. The Quakers in America had
taken action ou the subject still earlier than those in
England. The Pennsylvanian Quakers advised their
members against the trade in 1696 ; in 1754 they issued
to their brethren a strong dissuasive against encouraging
it in any manner; in 177-1 all persons concerned in the
traffic, and in 1776 all slave holders 'who would not
emancipate their slaves, were excluded from membership.
The Quakers in the other American provinces followed the
I'.ead of their brethren in Pennsylvania. The individuals
amongst the American Quakers who laboured most
'-■arnestly and indefatigably on behalf of the Africans
were John Woolman (1720-1773) and Anthony Benezet
(1776-1784), the latter a son of a French Huguenot
driven from France by the revocation of the edict of
Nantes. The former confin ed his efforts chiefly to America
and indeed to his coreligionists there ; the latter sought,
and not without a large measure of success, to found a
universal propaganda in favour of abolition. A Pennsyl-
vanian society was formed in 1774 by James Pemberton
md Dr Benjamin Rush, and in 1787 (after the war) was
reconstructed on an enlarged basis under the presidency of
Franklin. Other similar associations were founded about
the same time in different parts of the United States.
The next important movement took place in England.
Dr Peckard, vice-chancellor of the university of Cam-
bridge, who entertained strong convictions against the
slave trade, proposed in 1785 as subject for a Latin pri/.c
dissertation the question, " An liceat invitos in servitutem
dare." Thomas Clarkson resolved to compete for the
prize. Reading Anthony Benezet's Hislorkat Account of
Guinea and other works in the course of his study of the
subject, he became so powerfully impressed with a sense
of the vile and atrocious nature of t'ue traffic that he ere
long determined to devote his life to the work of its
abolition, a resolution, which he nobly kept. His essay,
which obtained the first prize, was translated into English
in an expanded form by its author, and published in 1786
with the title £ssay on the Slavery and Commerce of the
llumnn Soecies. In the process of its publication he was
brought into contact with several persons already deeply
interested in the question ; amongst others with Granville
Sharp, V>'iUiain DilUvyu (au American by birth, who had
known Benezet), and the Rev. James Ramsay, who had
lived nineteen years in St Christopher, and had published
at £ssai/ on the Treatment and Conversion of the African
Staves in the Bi-iiisk Stiffar Colonies. The distribution of
Cl'arkson's book led to his forming connexions with many
persons of influence, and especially with William ^Vilber-
force, who, having already occupied himself with the
subject, went fully into the evidence bearing on it which
Clarkson laid before him, and, as the result of his inquiries,
undertook the parliamentary conduct of the movement
which was now decisively inaugurated. A committee was
formed on 22d May 1787 for the abolition of the slave
trade, under the presidency of Granville Sharp, which
after twenty years of labour succeeded, with the help of
eminent public men, in effecting the object of its foundation,'
and thus removing a grave blot on the character of the
British nation, and mitigating one of the greatest evils
that ever afflicted humanity. It is unquestionable that
the principal motive power which originated and sustained
their efforts was Christian principle and feeling. The
most earnest and unremitting exertions were made by the
jiersons so associated in investigating facts and collecting
evidence, in forming branch committees and procuring
petitions, in the instruction of the public and in the infor-
mation and support of those who pleaded the cause in
parliament. To the original members were afterwards
added several remarkable persons, amongst whom were
Josiah Wedgwood, Bennet Langton (Dr Johnson's friend),
and, later, Zachary Macaulay, Henry Brougham, and
James Stephen.
In consequence of the numeroas petitions presented to
parliament, a committee of privy council was appointed
by the crown in 1788 to inquire concerning the slave
trade ; and Mr Pitt moved that the House of Commons
should early in the next session take the subject into con-
sideration. Wilberforce'a first motion for a committee of
the whole House upon the question was made on 19th
March 1789, and this comniittee proceeded to business
on 12th May of the same year. After an admirable
speech, Wilberforce laid on the table twelve resolutions
which were intended as the basis of a future motion
for the abolition of the trade. The discussion of these
was postponed to the ne,xt session, and in 1790-91 evi-
dence was taken upon them. At length, on 18th April
of the latter year, a motioti was made for the introduction
of a bill to prevent' the further importation of slaves ioto
the British colonies in the West Indies. Opinion had
been prejudiced by the insurrections in St Domingo and
Martinique, and in the British island of Dominica; and
the motion was defeated by 163 votes against 88.
Legislative sanction was, however, given to the estab-
lishment of the Sierra Leone Company, for the coloniza-
tion of a district on the west coast of Africa and the
discouragement of the slave trade there. It was hoped
at the time that that place would become the centre from
which the civilization of Africa would proceed ; but this
expectation was not fulfilled. On 2d April 1792 Wilber-
force again mo\ ed that the trade ought to be abolished ;
an amendment in favour of gradual abolition was carried,
and it was finally resolved that the trade should cease on
1st January 1796. When a similar motion was brought
forward in the Lords the consideration of it was postponed
to the following year, in order to give time for the
examination of witnesses by a committee of the Louse.
A bill in the Commons in the following year to abolish
that part of the trade by which British merchants supplied
foreign settlem jnts with slaves was lost on the third read-
ing; it was renewed in the Commons in 1794 and carried
there, but defeated in the Lords. Then followed several
years during which efforts were made by the abolitiouista
140
SLAVERY
Om parliament with little success. But in 1806, Lord
Grenville and Fox having come into power, a bill was
'passed in both Houses to put an end to the British slave
trade for foreign supply, and to forbid the importation of
slaves into the colonies won by the British arms in the
course of the war. On 10th June of the same year Fox
brought forward a rasolution "that effectual measures
should be. taken for th^ abolition of the African slave
trade in snch a manner and at such a period as should be
deemed advisable," which was carried by a large majority.
A similar resolution was successful in the House of Lords.
A bill was then passed through both Houses forbidding
the employment of any new vessel in the trade. Finally,
in 1807, a bill was presented by Lord Grenville in the
House of Lords providing for the abolition of the trade,
was passed by a large majority, was then sent to the
Commons (where it was moved by Lord Howick), was
there amended and passed, and received the royal assent
on 25th March. The bill enacted that no vessel should
clear out for slaves from any port within the British
dominions after 1st May 1807, and that no slave should
Ibe landed in the colonies after 1st March 1808.
In 1807 the African Institution was formed, with the
primary objects of keeping a vigilant watch on the slave
traders and procuring, if possible, the abolition of the
slave trade by the other European nations. It was also
to be made -an instrument for promoting the instruction
ui the negro races and diffusing information respecting
vthe agricultural and commercial capabilities of the African
pontinent.
The Act of 1807 was habitually violated, as the traders
'^fencw that, if one voyage in three was successful, they
Surere abundantly remunerated for their losses. This state
lOf things, it was plain, must continue as long as the trade
■was only a contraband commerce, involving merely pecu-
niary penalties. Accordingly, in 1811, Brougham carried
through parliament a bill declaring the traffic to be a
felony punishable with transportation. Some years later
another Act was passed, making it a capital ofience ; but
this was afterwards repealed. The law of 1811 proved
effectual, and brought the slave trade to an end so
far as the British dominions were concerned. Mauritius,
indeed, continued it for a time. That island, which had
been ceded by France in 1810, three years after the aboli-
tion, had special facilities for escaping observation in con-
sequence of the proximity, of the African coast ; but it
■was soon obliged to conform.
The abolition of the French sTave trade was preceded by stormy
struggles and by many deplorable excesses. The westeru part of
St Domingo, nominally belonging; to Spain, had been occupied by
buccaneers, who were recognized and supported by the French
Government and had been ceded to Fran(?e at the peace of Kyswick
in 1697. So vast was the annual importation of enslaved negroes
into this colony before 1791 that the ratio of the blacks to the
whites wa^ a^ 16 to 1. In that year there were in French St
Domingo 480,000 blacks, 24,000 mulattoes, and only 30,000
whites. The French law for the regulation of slavery in the
plantations, known as the Code N'oir (framed under Louis XIV. in
1685), was humane in its spirit ; but we are informed that its
provisions were habitually disregarded by the planters, whilst the
free mulattoes laboured iinder serious grievances aud were exposed
to irritating indignities. A " Societe des Amis des Noirs " was
formed in Paris in 1788 for the abolition, not only of the slave
trade, but of slavery itself. The president was Condorcet, and
amongst the members were the Due de la Kochefoucault, the
Abbe Gregoire, Brissot, Clav, fio Petion, and La Fayette ; Mirabeau
was an active sympathizer. The great motor of the parallel effort
in England was the Christian spirit ; in France it was the
enthmi.ism of humanity which was associated with the revolu-
tionary movement There were in 1789 a number of mulattoes in
Paris, who had come from St Domingo to assert the rights of the
Ceople of colour iu that colony before the national assembly. The
leclaration of the Rights of JIan in August 1789 seemed to meet
their cl.iims, but in March 1790 the assembly, alarmed by rumours
of the discontent an 1 disaffection of the planters in St Domingo,
passed a resolution that it had not been intended to comprehend
the internal government of the colonies in the constitution framed
for the mother country, and added that the assembly would not
cause any innovation to be made, directly or indirectly, in aoy
system of commerce in which the colonies were already concerned,
—a declaration which could only be interpreted as sanctioning
the continuance of the slave trade. Vincent Oge, one of the
mulatto delegates in Paris, disgusted at the overthrow of tht hopes
of his race, returned to St Domingo, and on landing in October
1790 addressed a letter to the governor announcing his iutentiou
of taking up arms on behalf of the mulattoes if their wrongs wei*
not redressed. He rose accordingly with a few followers, but was
soon defeated and forced to take refuge in the Spanish part of tl>e
island. He was alterwards surrendered, tried, and sentenced to
be broken on the "'yieel. AVheu the news of this reached Paris, it
created a strong feeling against the planters ; and on th? inotioM
of the Abbe Gregoire it was resolved by the assembly on 15th May
1791 "that the people of colour resident in the French colonies,
born of free parents, were entitled to, as of right, and should be
allowed, the enjoyment of all the privileges of French citizens,
and among others those of being eligible to seats both in the
parochial and colonial assemblies." On the 23d August a
rebellion of the negroes broke out in the northern province of St
Domiugo, and soon extended to the western province, where the
mulattoes aud blacks combined. Many enormities were com-
mitted by the insurgents, and were avenged with scarcely inferior
barbarity. The French assembly, alarmed by these acenes, and
fearing the loss of the colony, repealed on 24th September the
decree of the preceding May. This lamentable vacillation pnt an
end to all hope of a reconciliation of parties in the island. Civil
commiationers sent out from France quarrelled with the governor
and called the revolted negroes to their assistance. The white
inhabitants of Cape Fran5ois were massacred and the city in gresrt
part destroyed by fire. The planters now offered their allegiance
to Great Bfitaia ; and an EngUsh force landed in the colony. But
it was "insufficient to encounter the hostility of the republican
troops and the revolted negroes aud mulattoes ; it suffered dread-
fully from disease, and was obliged to evacuate the island in 1798.'
On the departure of the British the government remained in the
hands of Toussaint I'Ouverture, the noblest type ever produced
by the African race. Slavery had disappeared ; the blacks were
employed as hired servants, receiving for their remuneration the
third part of the crops they raised ; aud the population was rapidly
rising in civilization and comfort. The whole island was now
French, the Spanish portion having been ceded by tl'.e treaty ot
Basel. The wish ot Toussauit was that St Domingo siould enjoy
a practical independence whilst recognizing the sovereignty and
exclusive commercial rights of France. Of the violent and
treacherous conduct of Bonaparte towards the island and its
emissnt chief we cannot here give an account ; the final issue was
that the blacks drove from their soil the forces sent to subdue
them, and founded a constitution of their own, which was more
than once modified. There can be no doubt that the Government
of the Restoration, in seeking to obtain possession of the island,
bad the intention of re-establishing slavery, and even of reopening
the slave trade for the purpose of recruiting the diminished popu-
lation. But Bonaparte abolished that trade during the Hundred
Days, though he aiso failed to win back the people of St Domingo,
or, as it was now called by its original name, Hayti, to obedience.
The Bourbons, when again restored, could not reintroduce the
slave trade ; the notion of conquering the island had to be piven
up ; and its independence was formally recognized in 1825. Thus
France lost her most important colonial possession, which had
yielded produce to an amount almost as great as that of all the
rest of the V/est Indies ; and the negro race obtained its first and
hitherto its only independent settlement outside the African con-
tinent.
England had not been the first European power to
abolish the slave trade ; that honour belongs to Denmark {
a royal order 'wa.s issued 16th May 1792 that the traffic
should cease in the Danish possessions from the end of
1802. The United States had in 1794 forbidden any
participation by American subjects in the slave trade to
foreign countries ; they now prohibited the importation of
slaves from Africa into their own dominion. This Act
was passed 2d March 1807; it did not, however, come
into force till 1st January 1808. At the congress of
Vienna (opened November 1, 1814) the principle was
acknowledged that the slave trade should be abolished as
soon as possible ; but the determination of' the limit of
time was reserved for separate negotiation between the
powers. It had been provided in a treaty between Fraiice
and Great Britain, May 30, 1814, that no foreigner should
b L A V E R Y
141
in future introduce slaves into the Frencn colonies, and
that the trade should be absolutely interdicted to the
French themselves after June 1, 1819. This postponement
of abolition was dictated by the wish to introduce a fresh
stock of slaves into Hayti, if that island should be
recovered. Bonaparte, as we have seen, abolished the
French slave trade during his brief restoration, and this
abolition was confirmed at the second peace of Paris,
November 20, 1815, but it was not effectually carried out
by French legislation until March 1818. In January
1815 Portuguese subjects were prohibited from prosecut-
ing the trade north of the equator, and the term after
which the traffic should be everywhere unlawful was
fixed to end on 21st January 1823, but was afterwards
extended to February 1830; England paid £300,000 as
a compensation to the Portuguese. A royal decree was
issued on 10th December 1836 forbidding the export of
slaves from any Portuguese possession. But this decree
was often violated. ' It was agreed that the Spanish slave
trade should come to an end in 1820, England paying to
Spain an indemnification of £400,000. The Dutch trade
was closed in 1814; the Swedish had been abolished in
1813. By the peace of Ghent, December 1814, the
United States and England mutually bound themselves to
do all in their power to extinguish the traffic. It was at
once prohibited in several of the South American states
when they acquired independence, as in La Plata, Vene-
zuela, and Chili. In 1831 and 1833 Great Britain
entered into an arrangement with France for a mutual
right of search within certain seas, to which most of the
other powers acceded ; and by the Ashburton treaty
(1842) with the Unjted States provision was made for
the joint maintenance of squadrons on the west toast of
Africa. By all these measures the slave trade, so far as
it was carried on under the flags of European nations or
for the supply of their colonies, ceased to exist.
iti- Meantime another and more radical reform had been in
"«'y preparation and was already in progress, namely, the
''™' abolition of slavery itself in the foreign possessions of the
several states of Europe. When the English slave trade
had been closed, it was found that the evils of the traffic,
as still continued by several other nations, were greatly
aggravated. In consequence of the activity of the British
cruisers the traders made great efforts to carry as many
slaves as possible in every voyage, and practised atrocities
to get rid of the slaves when capture was imminent. It
was, besides, the interest of the cruisers, who shared the
price of the captured slave-ship, rather to allow the slaves
to be taken on board than to prevent their being shipped
&t all. Thrice as great a number of negroes as before, it
was said, was exported from Africa, and two-thirds of these
were murdered on the high seas. It was found also that
the abolition of the British slave trade did not lead to an
improved treatment of the negroes in the West Indies.
The slaves were overworked now that fresh supplies
were stopped, and their numbers rapidly decreased. In
1807 there were in the AVest Indies 800,000; in 1830
they were reduced to 700,000. It became more and more
evident that the root of the evil could be reached only by
ab^Jishing slavery altogether. At the same time, by the
discussions which had for years gone on throughout English
society on the subject of the slave trade, men's consciences
had been awakened to question the lawfulness of the whole
system of things out of which that trade had taken its rise.
An appeal was made by Wilberforco in 1821 to Thomas Fowell
Biixton to undertake the conduct of this new question in parliament.
An anti-slavery society was established in 1823, the- principal
members of which, besides Wilberforco an<l Uuxton, were Zachniy
Maciulay, Dr Lushington, and Lord SulBold. liuxlon moved on
6th May of the same year that the House shoulil take into con-
/«#Viration tlio state of slavery in the Urilish colonics. The object
he and his associates had then in view was gradual abolition by
establishingsomething like a system of serfdom for existing slaves,
and passing at the same time a measure emancipating all their
children born after a certain day. Canning carried against Buxton
and his friends a motion to the effect that the desired ameliorations
in the condition and treatment of tlie slaves should be recomniended
by the liome Government to the colonial legislatures, and enforced
only in case of their resistance, direct action being taken in tlio
single instance of Trinidad, which, being a crown colony, liad no
legislature of its own. A well-conceived series of mcasui-es of re-
form was accordingly proposed to the colonial authorities. There-
upon a general outcry was raised by the planters at the acquiescence
of the Government in the principles of the anti-slavery pjirfy. A
vain attempt being made in Demerara to conceal from the know-
ledge of the slaves the arrival of the order in council, they becama
impressed with the idea that they had .been set free, and accord-
ingly refused to work, and, compulsion being resorted to, oQ'ered
resistance. Martial law was proclaimed ; the disturbances were
repressed with great severity ; and the treatment of the missionary
Smith, which was taken up and handled with great ability by
Brougham, awakened strong feeling in England against the planters.
The question, however, made little progress in parliament for some
years, though Buxtou, William Smith, Lushington, Brougham,
Mackintosh, Butterworth, and Denman, with the aid of Z.
Macaulay, James Stephen, and others, continued the struggle, only
suspending it during a period allowed to the local legislatures for
carrying into eifect the measures expected from them. In 1828 the
free people of colour in the colonies were placed on a footing of
legal equality with their fellow-citizens. In 1830 the public began
to be aroused to a serious prosecution of the main iSsue. It was
becoming plain that the planters would take no steps tending to
the future liberation of the slaves, and the leaders of the movement
determined to urge the entire abolition of slavery at the earliest
practicable period. The Government continued to hesitate and to
press for mitigations of the existing system. At length in 1833
the ministry of Earl Grey took the question in hand and carried
the abolition with little difficulty, the measure passing the House
of Commons on 7th August 1833 and receiving the Koyal assent
28th of the same month. A sum of 20 millions sterling was voted
as oompensation to the planters. A system of apprenticeship for
seven years was established as a transitional preparation for liberty.
The slaves were boimd to work for their masters during this period
for three-fourths of the day, and were to be liable to corporal
punishment if they did not give the due amount of labour. The
master was, in return, to supply them with food and clothing.
All children under six years of age were to be at ouco free, and
provision was to be made for their religious and moral instruction.
Many thought the postponement of emancipation unwise. Im-
mediate liberation was carried out in Antigua, and public tran-
quillity was so far from being disturbed there that the Christmas
of 1833 was the first for twenty years during which martial law
was not proclaimed in order to preserve the peace. Notwithstanding
protracted and strenuous opposition on the part of the Government,
the House of Commons passed a resolution against the continuance
of the transitional system. When this was' done the local legisla-
tures saw that the slaves would no longer work for the masters;
they accordingly cut off two years of the indentured apprenticeship,
and gave freedom to the slaves in August 1838 insteaa of 1840.
The example of Great Britain was gradually followed by tho
other European states, and some American ones had already takoa
action of the same kind. The immediate emancipation of the
slaves in the French colonies was decreed by the Provisional
Government of 1848. In 1858 it was enacted tJiat every slave
belonging to a Portuguese subject should bo free in twenty years
from that date, a system of tutelage being established in tho
meantime. This law came into operation on 29th April 1878, and
tho status of slavery was thenceforth illegal throughout the
Portuguese possessions. Tho Dutch emancipated their slaves in
1863. Several of the Spanish American stales, on declaring their
independence, had adopted measures for tho discontinuance of
slavery within their limits. It was abolished by a decree of tho
Jlexican republic on 15th September 1829. Tho Government of
Buenos Ayi.s enacted that all children born to slaves after 3Ut
January 18i3 should be free; and in Colombia it was provided
that those born after 16th July 1821 should be liberated on attain-
ing their eighteenth year.
Three of the most important slave systems still re-
mained in which no steps towards emancipation had been
taken — those of the Southern United States, of Cuba, and
of Brazil.
Slavery was far from being approved in principle by
tho most eminent of the fathers of tho American Union.
Washington in his will provided for tho emancipation of
his own slaves; ho soid to JcSerbon that it was "among
142
S L A Y E K Y
his first wishes to see some plan adopted by which slavery
in his country might be abolished by law," and again he
wrote that to this subject his own suffrage should never
bo wanting. John Adams declared his abhorrence of tlie
practice of slaveholdiug, aijd said that " every measure
of prudence ought to be assumed for the eventual total
extirpation of slavery from the United States." Frank-
lin's opinions we have already indicated ; and Madison,
Hamilton, and Patrick Henry all reprobated the principle
of the system. Jefferson declared that in the presence of
the institution "he trembled for his country when he'
remembered that God was just." The last-named states-
man, at the first continentaJ congress after the evacuation
by the British forces, proposed a draft ordinance (1st
March 1784) for the governmeut of the territory — includ-
ing the present Tennessee, Alabama, and Mississippi —
ceded already or to be ceded by individual States to the
United States ; and it was an article of this ordinance that
"after the year 1800 there should be neither slavery nor
involuntary servitude in any of the said States, otherwise
than in punishment of crime." This proviso, however,
was lost. At the convention of Philadelphia in 1787,
where the constitution was settled, the sentiments of the
framers were against slavery ; but South Carolina and
Georgia insisted on its recognition as a condition of their
joining the Union, and even an engagement for the mutual
rendition of fugitive slaves was embodied in the federal
pact. The words " slave " and " slavery " were, however,
e.tcluded from the constitution, " because," as Madison
says, "they did not choose to admit the right of property
in man " in direct terms ; and it was at the same time
provided that Congress might interdict the foreign slave
t):ade after the expiration of twenty years. It must not be
forgotten that either before or soon after the formation of
the Union the Northern States — beginning with Vermont
in 1777, and ending with New Jersey in 1804 — either
abolished slavery or adopted measures to effect its gradual
abolition within their boundaries. But the principal opera-
tion of (at least) the latter change was simply to transfer
Northern slaves to Southern markets.
We cannot follow in detail the several steps by which
the slave power for a long time persistently increased its
influence in the Union. The acquisition of Louisiana — -
including the State so named, Arkansas, Missouri, and
Kansas — (1803), though not made in its interest, the
Missouri compromise (1820), the annexation of Texas
(1845), the Fugitive Slave Law (1850), the Kansas-
Nebraska bill (1854), the Dred Scott decision (1856), the
attempts to acquire Cuba (1854) and to reopen the foreign
slave trade (1859-60), were the principal steps — only
some of them successful — in its career of aggression.
They roused a determined spirit of opposition, founded on
deep-seated convictions. The pioneer of the more recent
abolitionist movement was Benjamin Lundy (1789-1839).
He was followed by William Lloyd Garrison (1805-1879),
Elijah P. Lovejoy (1802-1837)— a martyr, if ever there
was one — Wendell Phillips, Charles Sumner, John Brown
(b. 1800, hanged 1859), all of whom were in their several
ways leading apostles or promoters of the cause. The
best intellect of America outside the region of practical
politics has been on the anti-slavery side. William E.
Channing, R. W. Emerson, the poets Bryant, Longfellow,
pre-eminently Whittier, and more recently Whitman, have
spoken on this theme with no uncertain sound. The
South, and its partisans in the North, made desperate
efforts to prevent the free expression of opinion respecting
the institution, and/ even the Christian churches in the
slave States used their influence in favour of the main-
tenance of slavery. But in spite of every such effort
opinion steadily grew. Public sentiment iu the North was
deeply stirred by the Uncle Tom'g Cahin of iirs Harriet
Beecber Stowe (1852), which, as Senior said, under the
disguise of a novel was really a pamphlet against the
Fugitive Slave Law. It gradually became apparent that
the question could not be settled without an armed con-
flict. The designation of Abraham Lincoln as president in
November 1860 was the signal for the rising of the SoutL
The North at first took arms simply to maintain the
Union ; but the far-sighted politicians from the first, and
soon the whole nation, saw that the real issue was tha
continued existence or the total abolition of slavery. See
United States.
The ivar was closed by the . surrender at Appomattox
(9th April 1865), but already in 1862 slavery in the
Territories had been abolished by Congress ; on 22d of
September of the same year Lincoln had issued his pro-
clamation of freedom to the slaves; and in 1864 a con-
stitutional amendment had been passed abolishing and foi
ever prohibiting slavery throughout the United States.
The Spanish slave code, promulgated in 1789, is admitted on
all hands to have been very humane iu its character ; and, in con-
sequence of this, after Trinidad had become an English possessioH,
the anti-slavery party resisted — and successfully — the attempt oi
the planters (1811) to have the Spanish law iji that island replaced
by the British. But, notwithstanding this mildness of the code,
so habitually and glaringly were its provisions violated in the
colonies of Spain, that Dr R. E. JIadden, who had personal
knowledge of the atfairs of Cuba, declared in 1840 that "slavery
in Cuba was more destructive to human life, more pernicious to '
society, degrading to the slave and debasing to the master, more
fatal to health and happiness, than in any other slaveholding
country on the face of the habitable globe." "It is iu Cuba at
this day," wrote Cairnes iu 1862, "... that we see in the servile
class the coarsest fare, the most exhausting and unremitting toil,
and even th'e absolute destruction of a portion of its numbers every
year by the slow torture of overwork and insufficient sleep and
rest" The slave population of the island was estimated iu 1792
at 84,C00 ; in 1817 at 179,000 ; in 1827 at 286,000 ; and in 1843
at 436,000. An Act was passed by the Spanish legislature in
1870, providing that every slave who had then passed, or should
thereafter pass, the age of sixty should be at once free, aud that
all yet unborn children of slaves should also bo free. The latter,
however, were to be maintained at the expense of the proprietors
up to their eighteenth year, aud during that time to be kept, as
apprentices, to such work as was suitable for their age. This is
known as the Moret liaw, having been carried through the house of
representatives by Senor Moret y Prendergast, then minister for the
colonies. By the census of 1867 there was in Cuba a total popula-
tion of 1,370,211 persons, of whom 764,750 were whites and 605,461
black or coloured ; aud of the latter number 225,933 were free and
379,523 were slaves. In 1873 tho Cubans .roughly estimated the
population at 1,500,000, — of whom 500,000, or one- third, were
slaves. Mr Crowe, consul-general in the island, -has lately (1885)
stated that " the institution is rapidly dying, — that in a year, or at
most two, slavery, even in its present mild form, will be extinct."
There was a convention between Great Britain and Brazil in Bra^
1S2C for the abolition of the slave trade, but it was habitually ,
violated in spite of the English cruisers. In 1830 the traffic was
declared piracy by the emperor of Brazil. England asserted by the
Aberdeen- Act (1846) the right of seizing suspected craft in Bra-'
zilian waters. Yet by the connivance of the local administrative
authorities 54,000 Africans continued to be .nnnually imported.
In 1850 the trade is said to have been decisively put down. The
planters and mine proprietors cried out against this as a national
calamity. Tho closing of the traffic made the labour of the slaves
more severe, and led to the employment on the plantations of
many who before had been engaged in domestic work ; but tho
slavery of Brazil has always been lighter than that of the United
States. On 28th September 1871 the Brazilian chambers decreed
that slavery should be abolished throughout the empire. Though
existing slaves were to remain slaves still, with the exception of
those possessed by the Government, who were liberated by the Act,
facilities for emancipation were given ; and it was provided that
all children born of female slaves after the day on which tho law
passed should be free. They were, however, bound to serve the
owners of their mothers for a term of 21 years. A clause was
inserted to the effect that a certain sum should- be annually set
aside from fines to aid each province in emancipating slaves by
purchase. Seven years before the passing of this Act the emperor,
whose influence has always been exerted in favour of freedom, had
liberated his private slaves, and many Brazilians after 1871 followed
his example. According to tho census of 1835 there were then iu
SLAVERY
li3
Bmzil 2,106,000 skres. It was estimated that at the betjinning
011875 there were not more than 1.476,567. But in 18S4 they
are spoken of as 3,000.000 in numher. A gradual separation has
been for some time taking place between the parts of the country
in which slave labour is used and the free-labour regions. Slavery
4e being concentrated in tlie districts between JIaranhoo and Sao
3'auIo. lu 1830 tlie deputy Joachim Nabuco. leader of the anti-
slavery movement, obtained leave to introduce a hill for a more
rapid liberation of slaves tlian was attainable under the law of 1871,
and for tlie final extinction of slavery in Brazil by 1st January
1890. The Government, however, refused to sanction the further
progress of the hill : but the question has since become again of pre-
aynt political interest, being the principal subject of discussion in the
parliament which opened 1st March 1885. A lull has been passed,
known as the Saraiva Law. on which we cannot yet form a
definitive judgment, but which is understood to have disappointed
tlio expectations of the abolitionists. It is said to provide
exorbitant comjiensation for the slave-owners ; and, although
(Slaves over CO years of age are to obtain their freedom, it appears
/that all slaves, on being set free, as well as tlie indentured
children of slaves, are to remain three years longer with their
miastcrs at very low wages, the planters thus practically receiving
in additional inde:snity.
In the colonies ofmore than one European country, after the
lirohibition of the slave trade, attempts were made to replace it
ny a system of imiiorting labourers of the inferior races under
contracts for a somefthat lengthened term : and this was in
several instances found to degenerate into a sort of legalized slave
tralEc. About 1867 we began to hear of a system of this kind
which was in operation between the South Sea Islands and New-
Caledonia and the white settlements iu Fiji. It seems to have
begun in really voluntary agreements ; but for these the unscrupu-
lous greed of the traders soon substituted methods of fraud and
violence. The natives were decoyed into tlie labour ships under
false pretences, and then detained by force ; or they were seized
on shore or in their canoes and carried on board. The nature of
tlie engacrements to go and work on the plantations was not fully
explained to them, and they were hired for periods exceeding the
legal term. The area of this trade was ere long further extended.
.In 1884 attention was drawn in a special degree to the Queensland
JtrafDc in Pacific Islanders by the "Hopeful " trials, and a Govern-
jment commission was appointed to inquire into the methods
followed by labour ships in recruiting the nati%'e3 of New Guinea,
jthe /jOui-'-iade Archipelago, and the D'Entrecasteaux group of
nsWids. The result of the investigations, during which nearly
fiv-9 hundred witnesses were examined, was the disclosure of a
system which in treachery and atrocity was little inferior to the
'old African slave trade. These shameful deeds have made the
islanders regr.-.d it as a duty to avenge their wrongs on any wliite
bien they can entice upon their shores. The noble-hearted bishop
of Melanesia, John Coleridge Patteson, fell a victim to this
retaliation on the island of Nukapu 20th September 1871. The
■tendency of the whole system is to create a war of races. It may
ibe questioned whether this trade in labour can be safely continued
iat all ; if so, it mnst bo under a constant and vigorous system of
eurveillanco and regulation.
Wo have scdn that the last vestiges of the monstrous anomaly
pf modern colonial slavery are disappearing from all civilized states
nnd their foreign possessions. It nowremainsto consider the slavery
"of primitive origin which has existed within recent times, or con-
^"tinues to exist, outside of the Western world.
In Russia, a country which had not the same historical ante-
•cedonts w:ith the Western nations, properly so called, and which is
in fact more correctly classed as Eastern, whilst slavery had dis-
appeared, serfdom was in force down to our own days. The rural
population of that country, at the earliest period accessible to our
inquiries, consisted of (1) slaves, (2) free agricnltural labourers,
and (3) peasants proper, who were small farmers or cottiers and
members of a commune. The sources of slavery were there, as
elsewhere, capture in war, voluntary sale by poor freemen of them-
selves, sale of insolvent debtors, and. the action of the law in certain
"criminal cases. In the ISth century we find the distinction
ibetween the three classes named above effaced, and all of thorn
merged in the class of serfs, who were the property either of the
landed proprietors or of the state. They were not even adscripti
glebm, though forbidden to migrate ; an. imperial ukase of 1721
says, " the jiroprietors sell their peasants and domestic servants,
not even in families, but one by one. like cattle." This practice,
at first tacitly sanctioned by the G«remnient, which received dues
on the sales, was at length formally recognized by several imperial
ukases. Peter the Great imposed i poll-tax on all the members of
.the rural population, making the proprietors responsible for the
tax charged on their serfs ; and the " free wandering people " who
wwo not willing to enter the army were required to settle on the
land either as members of a commune or as serfs of some pro-
prietor. The system of serfdom attained its fullest development in
ibe laigu of Catherino II, The serJs were bought, gold, and given
in presents, sometimes with the land, sometimes without it, some-
times ill families and sometimes individually, sale by public auction
being alone forbidden, as " unbecoming in a European state." The
proprietors could transport without trial their unnily serfs to
Siberia or send them to the mines for life, and tlio.«e who pres»nted
complaints against their masters were punished with tne knont
and condemned to the mines. The first sjTnptoms of a reaction
appear in the reign of Paul (1796-1801). He issued an ukase that
the serfs sliould not be forced to work for their masters more than
three days in each week. There were several feeble attempts at
further reform, and even abortive projects of emancipation, from the
commencement of the present century. But no decisive measures
were taken before the accession of Alexander II. (1635). That
emperor, after the Crimean War, created a secret committee com-
posed of the great officers of state, called the chief committee for
jieasant affaii-s, to study the subject of serf-emancipation. Of this
body the grand-duke Constantine was an energetic member. To
accelerate the proceedings of the committee ad>'ant8ge was taken of
the following incident. In the Lithuanian provinces the relations
of the masters and serfs were regulated in the time of Nicholas by
what were called inventories. The nobles, dissatisfied with these,
now sought to have them revised. The Government interpreted
the application as implying a wish for the abolition of serfdom, and
issued a rescript authorizing the formation of committees to pre-
pare definite proposals for a gradual emancipation. A circular was
soon after sent to the governors and marshals of the nobility all
over Piussia proper,'informing them of this desire of the Lithuanian
nobles, and setting out the fundamental principles which shonldj
be observed "if the nobles of the provinces should express al
similar desire." Public opinion strongly favoured the projected
refonn ; and even the masters who were opposed to it saw that, if
the operation became necessary, it would be more safely for their
interests intrusted- to the nobles than to the bureaucracy. Accord-
ingly during the year 1858 a committee was created in nearly every
province in which serfdom existed. From the schemes prepared
by these committees, a general plan had to be elaborated, and the
Government appointed a special imperial commission for this
purpose. The plan was formed, and, in spite of some opposition
from the nobles, which was suppressed, it became law, and serf-'
dom was abolished (19th February — 3d March 1861). Its nature
and results have been indicated in Russia, vol. xxi. p. 82. The
total number of serfs belonging to proprietors at the time of the
emancipation was 21,625,609, of whom 20,158,231 were peasant
serfs and 1,467,378 domestic serfs. This number does not include
the state serfs, who formed about one-half of the rural population.
Their position had been better, as a rule, than that of the serfs on
private estates ; it might indeed, Mr Wallace says, be regarded as
"an intermediate position between serfage and freedom." Amongst
them were the serfs on the lands formerly belonging to the church,
which had been secularized and transformed into state demesnes by
Catherine II. There were also serfs on the apanages affected to
the use of the imperial family ; these amounted to nearly three
and a half millions. Thus by the law of 1861 more than forty
millions of serfs were emancipated.
The slavery of the Mohammedan East is usually not the slavcrj' Mphailk
of the field but of the household. The slave is a member of the medaiij
family, and is treated Tvith tenderness and alfection. The Koran slavetjj
breathes a considerate and kindly spirit towards the class, and
encourages manumission. The child of a slave girl by her master
is bor.i free, and the mother is usually raised to be a free wife But
behind this slavery, however mild in itself, stands the slave trade,
with its systematic man-hunting, which has been, and still is, the
curse of Africa. The traffic in slaves has been lepeatedly declared
by the Ottoman Porto to be illegal thronghout its dominions, and
there have been several conventions between Great Britain and the
khcdive for its suppression in Egypt; but it is still largelj' cur-
ried on both in the latter country and in Turkey, owing to the
laxity and too often the complicity of the Government oflici.als.
In the days of the colonial slave trade its African centre was tho
region about the mouths of tho rivers Calabar and Bonny, whither
the captive negroes were brought from great distances in tho
interior. As many slaves, Clarkson tells us, came annually from
this part of the coast as from all tho rest of Africa besides. At
present, it is commonly said, — though Cameron in 1875 was other-
wise informed, — no slaves are exported from the western side of
tho continent. The principal centres from which tho supjily is
now furnished to Kgypt, Turkey, Arabia, and Pei'sia are thrco in
number. (1) The Soudan, south of tho Great Sahara, appears to
be one vast hunting-ground. Captives arc brought thi^ncH to thi'
slave market of Kuka in Bornu, where, after being bought by
dcalerrs, they are, to tho number of about 10,000 annually, mnrchod
over arid desert tracks under a burning sun to Mnrzuk in Fcrzan,
from which place they are distributi'd to the northern, and eastcrii|
Mediterranean coasts. Their sunTerings on the route ore dreadful ;
many succumb and are abandoned. Kolilfs informs n.s that "nnj
one who did not know tho way" by which tho caravans J'"**
"would onlv have to follow the bones which lio right ond left, of
144
S L A — S L A
Itho trade." Negroes are also brouglit to Jforocco from the
lAVestern Soudan and from Timbuktu. The centre of the trnffic in
illorocco is Sidi Hamed ibn JIusn, seven days' jouruey south of
fjlogador, where a great yearly fair is held. Tlie slaves are for-
iwarded thence in gangs to difl'prent towns, especially to Morocco
city, Fez, and iletiuinez. About 4000 are thus annually im-
ported, and an ad valorem duty is leried by the sultan, which
produces about £4800 of annual rerenue. Tho total number of
negro slaves in llorocco appears to be about 60,000. (2) The basin
of the Nile, extending to the great lakes, is another region infested
iby the slave trade ; the slaves are either snauggled into Egypt or
sent by the Ked .Sea to Turkey. The khedive Ismail in 1869
appointed Sir Samuel Baker to tlie command of a lai'ge force with
which he was " to strike a direct blow at the slave trade in its
'distant nest." ' The instructions in the firman issued to him were
as follows: — "To subdue to our authority the countries situated to
'the south of Gondokoro, to suppress the slave trade, to introduce
a system of regular commerce, to open to navigation the great
lakes of the equator, and to establish a chain of military stations
and commercial depots throughout Central Africa." The work
energetically commenced by him was continued by Colonel C. G.
Gordon (1874 to 1879), but since the revolt of the Soudan, it
is to be feared, no trace of his or of Baker's work remains in the
scene of their labours. The most effectual direct methods of deal-
ing with the slave trade in the present territories of Egypt seem to
be those suggested by the Anti-Slavery Society to Jlr Gladstone's
Government in 1881 — extended consular supervision, and a com-
pulsory registration of all existing slaves. (3) There has long been
a slave trade from the Portuguese possessions on the East African
coast. The stream of supply came mainly from the southern
Nyassa districts by three or four routes to Ibo, Mozambique,
Angoche, and Kilimane. Madagascar and the Comoro Islands
obtained most of their slaves from the Mozambique coast. It was
believed in 1862 th:.t about 19,000 passed every year from the
Njrassa regions to Zanzibar, whence large supplies were drawn for
the markets of Arabia and Persia up to 1873. The mission of Sir
Bartle Frere to the sultan of Zanzibar in 1873 brought about a treaty
for the suppression of the slave trade, but it is to be feared that
'ihe cessation of the traffic from that port has not extinguished the
traffic but has in part only given it a different direction, through
Somali markets. In Madagascar, which had been supplied from
the Mozambique coast, the import and sale of slaves were prohibited
within the Hova dominions by Queen Ranavalona II. in June
1877. The rulers of the Comoro Islands, Mohilca and Anjuan (or
Johanna), have signed treaties for the abolition of the status of
slavery in their dominions after 1890, the fulfilment of which,
however, it will prob.ably be difficult to enforce. The stations
established by the English universities in the valley of the Rovuma
and by the Established and Free Churches of Scotland on Lake
Nyassa doubtless contributed much to the diminution of the traffic
in those parts. It is said that, whereas no less than 10,000 slaves
formerly passed the southern end of the Nyassa every year, in
1876 not more than 38 were known to have been conveyed by that
route. Lieutenant O'Neill, British consul at Mozambique, writing
in 1880, fixed at about 3000 the number then annually exported
from the coast between the rivers Rovuma and Zambesi. But
since that date the traffic seems to have received a fresh impetus
from an increased demand for ivory, the slave and ivory trades
being "hand and glove." The Portuguese appear to be the most
determined upholders of the evil system, and in consequence are
everywhere detested by the natives.
There are other minor branches of the trade elsewhere in Africa.
jThus from Harar in Somali-land caravans are sent to Berbera on
the coast, where there is a great annual fair. The slaves are
collected from tho inland Galla countries, from Guragwe, and
from Abyssinia.
Clarkson first, and Buxton afterwards, whilst they urged all
other means for the suppression or discouragement of the slave
trade and slavery, saw clearly that the only thoroughly effectual
method would be the development of legitimate commerce in
Afric» itself. When Buxton published in 1840 his book entitled
The Slave Trade and its Remedy, this was the remed/ he con-
templated. The unfortunate Niger expedition of 1841 wts directed
♦* sinailar ends ; and it has been more and more felt b_, all who
were interested in the subject that here lies the radical solution
of the great problem. It was for some time thought '.hat from
Sierra Leone as a centre industry and civilization might b? diffused
amongst the nations of tho continent ; and in 1822 tne colony
(which in 1847 became the independent republic) of Liueria had
been founded by Americans with a similar object ; but in neither
case have these expectations been fulfilled. A new, and it would
seem really hopeful, effort for the same great end has recently been
undertaken.
Leopold 11., king of the Belgians, invited in September 1876
representative geographers to a conference in his palace, to discuss
the question of the exploration and civilization of Africa through
the development of commerce and the abolition of the slave trade.
Six European nations were represented, and an IntcmaTionaT
African Association was formed. The central committee organized
seven successive expeditions from the east coast to Lake Tanganyika.
The exploration of the Congo by Stanley turned attention to the
west coast, and he went out to the Congo in 1879 as commander-
in-chief of the a-ssociation, to open up that river. The associatioa
obtained, by treaties with the native chiefs, tho cession of certain
territories. The recognition of its (lag and its territorial rights by
the European Powers has transformed the association into the Congo
Free Stat^ A conference was held at Berlin on loth November
1S84, attended by plenipotentiaries from all the European states,
to regulate the position of tho now state, and one of its declara?
tionswas that"tliese regions shall not be used as markets or routes
of transit for the trade in slaves, no matter of what race ; each of
these powers binds itself to use all the means at its disposal to jiut
an end to this tr.ide and to punish those engaged in it." The terri-
tory of the new«tate was fixed so as to comjirise 1,065,200 square
miles, with an estimated population of 42,608,000 souls. Stations
have been built at points extending for nearly 1500 miles into the
centre of Africa.
There are, it cannot be denied, real dangers connected with this
great enterprise for tho civilization of Africa. Disputes may arise
between the powers having interests in the territories of the new
state, and, still worse, the natives may be led to take sides in such
disputes. That the African population should be sometimes op-
pressed, or have justice denied them, by European traders or officials
is by no means unlikely in the present state of opinion with respect
to our duties towards the retarded races. Difficulties, too, may bo
created by the rivalries and mutual jealousies of the missionaries
of the several Western communions. But, whilst foreseeing these
possibilities and urging the necessity of guarding, as far as possible,
against the evils referred to, we ought not to view in a grudging or
suspicious spirit an enterprise which is begun with pure intentions,
and will probably do much to right the wrongs and improve th^
position of a deeply-injured portion of our race. The establishment
of the state will be no reason for the cessation of any effort which
Western Governments can make, by the exercise of influence and
by remonstrance, to induce Turkey and Egypt to fulfil their engage-
ments respecting the slave trade. The rulers of those states are
well disposed to appropriate the results of more advanced civiliza-'
tion ; and we need not despair of the disappearance in Mohammedaiv
communities of slave-holding and its ally polygamy, since those,
practices are not enjoined, but only tolerated, by a religious code
which social progress will inevitably lead its adherents to modify,
by interpretation.
BibHography. — On the several branches of the subject of slavery and scrfclom
faller Information may be obtained from tlie following M-orlts, whicti have been
amongst those used in the prepatation of the preceding; sketch. t
On Ancient Slavery : H. Wallon, Jfisloire de Vtsdavage dans VAnliquit^, 3
vols., 1S47, 2d ed. 1879; A. Boeclvh. Public Ecimomy «f Athens, Eng. transl. by
G. Comewall Lewis, 182S, 2d ed. 1842; William Blair, Inquiry info Iht Stall of
Slavery among the Romans, from the Earliest Period to the Establishment of the
Lombards in Italy, 1833; Dureau de la Malle, Economic Politique des liomains,
2 vols., 1&40; M. troplong, /)a t'lnjluence du Christianisme sur le Droit Civil des
Romains, 2d ed. 1855. On Medieval Slavery and Serfdom : G. Humbert, aiticle
"Colonat"in thei)(cfionnaired<;3 Antiquites Grecques et Romaines of Daremberg
and Saglio(now in course of publication): J.'YanosIci, Di* V Abolition de I'Esclavage
Ancien au Moyen Age et de sa Transformation en Servitude de la Olebe (Walinn
and Yanoski had jointly composed a memoir to compete for a prize offered by
the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences in 1837; Wallon's portion of the
memoir became the foundation of hisMistcire de I'Esclavage dans t'Antiquite
above mentioned: Yanoski's part, the expansion of which was prevented by his
early death, was posthumously published in 1860; it Is no more than a slifiht
sketch); Benjamin Gu^rard, Proleqoni^ties au Polyptyque d'Irminon, 1814;
Fustel de Coulanges, Nistoire des Institutions Poliltques de t'ancienne France
(only the first part has been published, 2d ed. 1877), and Recherches sur guelques
Problemes dlli^toirc, 18S5 (the latter work contains the best extant discussion
of the whole subject of the colonatus, founded throughout on the original texts);
Stubbs, Constitutional History of England, 3 vols., 1874-78. On the Colonial
Slave Trade and Slavery: Washington Irving, Life and Voyages of Christopher
Columbus, 1823. several times reprinted; Arthur Helps, Life of Las Casas,
1863; Bryan Edwards, History, Civil and Commercial, of the British West
Indies, 1793, 5th ed. in 5 vols. 1819; Thomas Clarkson, History of the Rise,
Progress, and Accomplishment of the Abolition of the African Slave Trade by the
British Parliament, 2 vols., 1803; T. Fowell Buxton, African -Slave Trade, 2d
ed. 1838, and The Remedy, a Sequel, 1840; Memoirs of Sir T. P. Buxton, edited
by his son Chailes Buxton, 3d ed. 1849. On North American Slavery: G M.
Stroud, Laics relating to Slavery in America, 2d ed. 1856; H. Greeley,
The American Conflict, 1865; and John E. Caimes. The Slave Potrer, its Charau
ter, Career, and Probable Designs, 1862, 2d ed. 1863. On Brazilian: FletcBeJ
and Kidder, Braiil and the Brazilians, 9th ed. 1879. On Hiissian .SerfdooK
D. Mackenzie Wallace, Russia, 1877. For the existing state of the African slave
trade, and of Egyptian aud Turkish slavery, the Ismailia of Sir .S. naker,.Uic
writings of Livingstone, and the biograptiies of Gordon may be consuittcrj
besides tho many documents on these subjects published by tho British «ujri
Foreign Anti-Slavery Society. There are two volumes by A. Toui magne, enlitieo
respectively Histoire de I'Esclavage Ancien et Moderne, 1880, and Histoire dtt
Servage Ancien et Moderne, 1879, wbich bring together many facts relating to
slavery and serfdom; but they are somewhat loose and uncritical; tho author,
too. repeats himself much, and dwells on many topics scarcely if at all con^
nected with his main themes. The largest and most philosophical views on
slavery generally will be found in Hume's Essay ■' On the Populousness of Antlent
Nations." and in Comte's Philosophic Positive, vol. v., and Politique Positive, voU
iii. For its economic effects, when it is regarded as un organization of labour,
reference may be had to Smith's Wealth of Nations, book iii. chop. 2, J. S.
Mill's Political Economy, book ii. chap. 5, and J. K. Cairaes'a Slave Potcer,
chap. 2. (J- K. I.J
SLAVONIA. See Croatia and Slavonia.'
145
SLAYS
ACCORDING to the tables published by Boudilovich
in connexion with the admirable ethnological map
of Mirkovich (St Petersburg, 1875), the Slavs may be
grouped geographically as follows : —
1. South-Eastern Di visiok. — 1. liussians. — (a) The Great Rus-
sians ( Velikorousskie), who occupy the governments round Moscow
and extend as far north as Novgorod and Vologda, south toKieffand
Voronezh, east to Penza, Simbirsk, and Vyatka, and west to the
Baltic provinces and Poland ; they number about 40,000,000. (6)
The Little Russians {Malorossiane), who include the Rousines or
Rousniaks in Galicia and the Boiki and Gouzouli in Bukovina ;
they number 16,370,.000. Drawing a straiglit line from Sandec
near Cracow to the Asiatic frontier of Russia, we shall find their
language the dominant tongue of Galicia and all the southern parts
of Rusfia till we come to the Caucasus. It is also spoken in a strip
of territory in the north of Hungary, (c) The White Russians,
inhabiting the western governments ; they number 4,000,000.
2. Bulgarians, including those in Russia, Austria, Roumania,
Bulgaria, eastern Roumelia, and those under Turkish government
in Macedonia ; their total number is 5,123,592.
3. Servo -Croats, including those of Servia, Montenegro, the
southern part of Hungary, and a few in the south of Russia ; they
are returned as numbering 5,940,539. Here also may be placed
the Slovenes, including those in Styria, Carinthia, and Carniola,
amounting to 1,287,000.
II. Western Division. — 1. Poles, divided between Russia,
Austria, and Prussia ; they number 9,492,162 ; under this head
may be included the Kashoubes near Dantzic, numbering 111,416.
2. CAcA■/^4• ' and Mmaviaiis, 4,815,154 in number; here also may
be included the Slovaks, numbering 2,223,820.
3. Lusalian JFeiids or Sorbs, Upper and Lower, partly in Saxony
and partly in Prussia. The Ujyper Wends number 96,000, the
Lower 40,000.
Total number of Slavs in both divisions 89,499,683.
Originally the Slavs were spread over a great part of
northern Germany, extending as far as Utrecht, which was
anciently called Wiltaburg and was a city of the Wilzen.
Thus Slavonic was certainly spoken in Pomerania, Mecklen-
burg, Brandenburg, Saxony, west Bohemia, Lower Austria,
the greater part of Upper Austria, north Styria and north
Carinthia, a large part of what is now Hungary, and in
the localities now occupied by Kiel, Lubeck, Magdeburg,
Halle, Leipsic ( = Lipsk, the city of lime-trees), Baireuth,
Linz, Salzburg, Gratz ( = Gradetz, Gorodetz), and Vienna.
The names of the old Slavonic tribes originally settled in
these parts of Germany are given in Schafarik's Slawische
Alterthumer, to which work the reader desiring further
information must be referred. They are mentioned fre-
quently in such writers as Helmold, Dietmar, Arnold,
Wittekind, and others. We hear of a commercial city
of importance, which some writers have rather fantasti-
cally termed the Slavonic Amsterdam, called Wolin, on
an island of the same name, which was known as Winetha
to thfe Germans and as Julin to the Danes. Schafarik
even wished to see the Slavonic tribe of the Wilzen in
English Wiltshire. This, however, cannot be accepted; the
original name is Wilsajtas and that of the town Wil-
tun, the town on the river Wily. It has long been a
generally received opinion that the modern Greeks have
a large Slavonic admixture. This opinion was boldly
asserted some years ago by Fallmerayer and has not been
upset even by the labours of M. Sathas. He dwells much
upon the form ^dkapijvoi as di.stinct from i:KAa/?i;i'ot ;
liut this corruption seems to be owing to some such false
analogy as ia-Ok&'i. Miklosich, in his Etymologisckes
Worterbuch der slai'isdten Sprachen (188G), considers the
two forms to be identical. In like fashion Pvocopius
connects Serbi with l-iTopoi and Constantino Porphyro-
gcnitus turns Svatoptuk into S<^ei'8o7rXoKos. Media;val
Greece, especially the Peloponnesus, abounded withSlavonic
> This spelling has been adopted as best calculntod to show tlio
pronunciation of the name Czech, in the samei way as the l^'rooch writi
the word Tchiquc
■J-2-H
names, which are now being replaced by others drawn fron*
classical sources. Kollar and Wolanski wished to find •
Slavonic population in Italy ; but their opinions are con-
sidered the wild dreams of unscieatific patriots, though
these views found their way into such works as the Var-
ronianus of Dr Don.".ldson. Equally unfounded appears
to bo the belief that a Slavonic element may be traced in
Spain and Asia Minor. If the Slavs have lost in the west
of Europe, they have gained in the east considerably, as
Russia has encroached upon the Ugro-Finnish tribes of the
northern and eastern portions of its empire, and many of
these races are now in various stages of Russification.
As to the original home of the Slavonic race there are
three leading opinions: — (1) the Slavs settled in Europe
at a period contemporaneous with or shortly after the
arrival of the Teutonic and other Indo-European families ;
(2) they first made their appearance in Europe with the
Huns, Avars, and other Asiatic barbarians -in the 3d cen-
tury after Christ ; (3) they originated in Europe, as did
the so-called Indo-European race altogether. This last
view has been maintained by Penka - and Schrader ^ (see
below).
The first of these views has been supported by Scha-
farik. He considers that the Slavs left Asia in very early
times for the following reasons : — (a) the fact that the
Slavonic languages are more closely connected with Euro-
pean tongues than with those of Asia, even granting the
many affinities of Slavonic with Zend or (as has been
recently shown by Hiibschmann) with Armenian ; (6) the
similarity of the manners and customs of the Slavs to
those of the Celts, Germans, and other Europsan popu-
lations ; (c) the occurrence of many mountains, rivers, and
towns having Slavonic names which are mentioned long
before the Slavs themselves are found in history-; (rf)
the fact that the Slavs are always spoken of by the earlier
writers in terms which show that these writers considered
them to be an ancient European nation, and were struck
with the large area over which their populations extended.
Moreover, the arrival at a comparatively late period of such
large hordes would have made a great impression upon the
surrounding nations at the time, and this would certainly
have found an echo in their historians and chroniclers.
Schafarik believes that the Slavs or Wends (as they
were called by -their Teutonic neighbours) were settled at
a very early period on the southern coast of the Baltic.
The word " Wend " he connects with a Slavonic (voda) and
lAihw&rdan {wandu) root meaning "water"; thus it would
signify the people dwelling about the water. He appears
to include under the Slavs all people bearing the name
Wends, notably the Veneti on the Adriatic. Other writers,
however, consider that the word was applied generally to
any maritime people; and this view appears probable.
The name also occurs in Switzerland. The Wends then,
according to Schafarik, were the earliest inhabitants of
the Baltic coast ; but they were expelled by the Goths in
the 4th century B.C. Nestor makes other tribes of Slavs to
have been established at an early period on the Danube and
to have been driven thence by the Vlacbs, a people whom
scholars are inclined to identify with the Latin colonists
from whom in a great measure the modern Roumans are
descended. We find other tribes settled in the neighbour
hood of the Carpathians. The first historian who relate^
anything about the Slavs is probably Herodotus, whoto
account of the north of Eurojio'ls very vague. Amor.g
the Scythian tribes mentioned by him two have been
' Origin f.a A riacK, Vienna, 1883.
' SprachveryUichung und Urgachichte, 1885.
146
SLAVS
identified with the Slavg by Schafarik v?ith consider-
able probability, — the Budini and the Neuri. Of the
former vce are told that they were a large nation and had
blue eyes and red hair. The description of the country
they inhabited corresponds pretty closely to Volhynia
and portions of White Russia. The Neuri are placed by
Schafarik on the river Bug, which flQws through Podolia.
There at the present day we find a river named Kureflf, and
the surrounding country is called Nurska. This opinion is
supported by Schrader, who places the original home of the
Slavs in Scythia. Posche ^ goes so far as to consider the
eastern part of Europe — especially that portion of Russia
which constitutes the basin of the Pripet, the Beresina, and
the Dnieper — as the primary abode of the Indo-European
race. Dr Kurd von Schlozer interprets Herod, iv. § 6 —
the story of Targitaus and his three children — as an allusion
to the Slavs. The falling of a plough with its yoke from
heaven would hardly be a characteristic tale of a nomad
people. We seem to have an echo of the stories of the
peasants Slikoula, Selianinovich, Piast, and Premysl, all
dear to Slavonic legend. The view that the ancestors of
the Slavs are to be found among the Scythian tribes has
been supported in recent times by the Russian author
Zabielin.^ He also thinks that their original settlement
was in Volhynia and White Russia. The specimens of the
Scythian language which have come down m Herodotu,'*
and .elsewhere can certainly best be explained by Indo-
European roots. The name Slav does not occur in any
writer before the time of Jordanes, unless it be in the
'Eravavol oi Ptolemy. Jordanes says of them — "quorum
nomina licet nunc per varias familias et loca mutentur,
•principaliter tamen Sclavini et Antes." It is probably
connected with the root slovo, " the word," which is rela':9d
to the Greek kXvo) (Slav. slU, "to be called"); and in a
Polabish vocabulary we get the form slivo. The Slav thus
comes to mean " the intelligibly speaking man" in contrast
to "the dumb man," Niemetz, which in the modern Slavonic
languages has come to mean simply " German." .Miklosich
{Etym. W'orterb.) thinks that the termination -ene in Slovene
shows the word to be derived from the name of a place and
rejects the explanation from shvo. Some Slavonic scholars
have sought an explanation of the name in the word dava,
"glory."
Peuka,^ however, attempts to upset the ordinary ety-
mology. According to him the Slavs are non-Aryan and
belong rather to the Ugro-Finuish race. Their name, he
tells us, shows that they were subjected by the Aryans and
became their dependants. He considers it to be derived
from the present participle of the root klu (" to hear," Slav.
sit), and thus identifies it with " client." The name Wend
is used by Tacitus, who speaks of the Peucini, the Venedi,
and the Fenni. Ptolemy al.so alludes to the Wendic
mountains. He tells us that Sarmatia, i.e., all the terri-
tory east of the Vistula and north of Dacia, was inhabited
by widely scattered races and that the Wenedoe were
established along the whole of the Wendish gulf. Jordanes
DaUs them Winidoe. The other name, Antes, applied by
this historian to the Slavs, which, like the word Wend,
they never used themselves, Schafarik connects with a
Gothic root. Duchinski, Henri JIartin, and others have
denied to the Russians the right of being called Aryan.
Penka,'* as stated before, carries this opinion much further
and refuses the appeUation to the whole Slavonic family.
Finding that many of the Slavs have chestnut-coloured
curly hair and dark eyes, that the ^TlIite Russians are blond,
that the southern Slavs are darker and have a shorter head
than those in the north, he is inclined to see in the Slavs
' Die Arier, ein Beitrag zur htstorischen .Anthropologic, Jena, 1878.
- See, however, tlie arguments on the other side in the article
ScTTHiA. 3 Qj, „(^ p 126. < Op. (it., p. 125.
a very mixed race, and quotes Procopius^ in support of
his opinion.
The second of the opinions alluded to above has been
adopted by Wocel,^ according to whom the Slavs in the
north of Germany on the Elbe, Moldau, Sale, Spree, as
also those living south of the Danube, were not living in
juxtaposition in the Bronze Age, but wandered into those
regions some centuries after the birth of Christ. In proof
of 'his assertion he cites many names of objects which are
common to the Slavonic languages and yet could not have
been known to any people in the Bronze Period, — as, for
example, iron (O.S. zdeso),'' objects made of iron, as scythe
(O.S. kosa), chisel (O.S. dlaio), tongs (O.S. Mesta), knife
{nuz), saw (pila), hoe {motyka), sword (mec), st..rup
(stremen), spur (ostriiha), needle (Jelda), anchor {kotiia).
Common to all the Slavonic languages are the names for
gold (dato), silver (stfibro), copper (ncd), tin (olovo). All
these words must have been formed while the Slavonic
people dwelt together in a comparatively narrow space, —
according to Wocel between the Baltic, the Vistula, and
the Dnieper ; otherwise, according to this author, if we
suppose that the Lutitzes, Obotrites, Sorbs, and Chekhs
were autochthonous, it is difiicult to see how they could
have had the same names for many objects which did not
exist in the Bronze Age, e.ff., iron, as the Slavs on the
Dnieper, the Balkans, and the Adriatic had. Wocel con-
siders the Slavs to have been a pastoral people who entered
Europe through the passes of the Caucasus. He compares
the agricultural words which all branches of the family
have in common, as ploug, " plough " (and also ralo) ;
Icmesh, "ploughshare"; zhito, "corn"; pskeniUe, "wheat";
yechmen, "barley"; oves, "oats"; proso, "millet"; snop,
"''heaf." On tho other hand. a.« Wocel maintains, objects
connected wth civilization the knowledge of which only
dates from the introduction of Christianity have not a
common name in the Slavonic languages, such as "paper,"
"pavement," "steel," "velvet," &c. So also there is no
common term for "property" or "inheritance," for the
simple reason that the Slavs kn^w nothing of private
property, — the laud being held in >;ommon under the care
of the vtiyr/ika or stareshina, as in the Servian zadrugas at
the present day.
The condition of the original Slavs has also been investi-
gated from the linguistic point of view by Gregor Kreck.'
According to this writer, besides the cereals previously
mentioned the Slavs cultivated the rape (repa), the pea
(sochivo, grakk), the lentil (lenshta), the bean {bob), the
poppy {mak), hemp (konop), the leek {louk), &c. ; corn
ground by a hand-mill or water-mill {ihrinouv, malin) into
meal (manka) and baked into bread (khteb), honey (med) —
the collection of which was an important occupation among
the Slavs, as we find by the Polish laws — meat (menso),
milk (mleko), and fruit {ovoshtiye) formed their food. The
drinks were ol and lino^, beer and wine. Kreck considers
that the minute details of house-building point'lo a habit
of living in fixed residences, — thus the house (dom), the
stable (khlev), the threshing-floor (ffoumno), the court (dvor),
the village (ves). In opposition, however, to this view of
Kreck we have the opinion of Hehn, who contends that
all the words used among the Slavs for stone buildings
are borrowed, and seeks to prove that till comparatively
^ Bell. Goth., iii. 14 — "to 5e ffuifiara Kal ras Kdfxas, oC-tc \evKol ii
^701' ii Icw^ot elffiv, oGre ttt} ^s t6 fiiXaif aiiToU irtureXuJs T^Tpaxrai,
dX\' inripvSpol elffi" fiTapres."
« Pravik Zcme CesJci (The Early Days. of Bohemia), Prague, 1868,
It is cited by Schrader, p. 90.
' The words not specified as OM Slavonic are Bohemian.
' Einleilung in die slavische Litieratur-Geschichte, Gratz, 1874 ; sse
Schrader, p. 92.
' A word which some recent scholars are inclined to think «{
Armenian origin.
SLAVS
147
'(•.Mfit fimes they tad only huts made of ciiers and led a
half nomadic life. Certainly municipal institutions are
no feature of Slavonic life, and the jiaucity of large towns
in Russia is striking even at the present day. According
to Kreck, words are to bo found very early which show
the development of the nation from the family. Thus the
commune (obslchina, rod) becomes the family {plemya) and
the family the people {nand, yenzik). There are common
terms for law (j>ravo pravda, " right " ; zakon, " law ").
Besides agricultural ptu'suits we have mention of the arts
of braiding (jjlesti), weaving {(kaii), tailoring in a series of
common expressions for portions of apparel, carpentering
(tesati), working in iron, itc. Of the primitive Slavonic
flora we have the oak (doub), the lime tree {lipa), the acorn
[yavor), the beech {hoiiky), the willow {vrba), the birch
[breza), the pine {bor), as also special kinds of fruit, the
apple- (yaW/to), the pear {r/rovsha), the cherry (vishnya),
\he nut iprekh), and the plum {diva).
Pictet placed the original home of the German and
Litu-.Slavic races on the northern bank of the Oxus.
Thence he thought they came over the extensive plains
if Scythia to the Pontus Euxinus.
The doctrine of the European origin of the Aryans
ippears to be steadily gaining ground. It is supported
by Professors Rhys and Sayce of Oxford. The last-named
■s inclined to see the home of the Indo-European race
\n " the district in the neighbourhood of the. Baltic." Dr
Ludwig Wilser^ makes. Sweden and the north German
bhores the centre of the primitive Aryans, from which the
Germanic tribes, Celts, Latins, Greeks, Slavs, Lithuanians,
Iranians, and the invaders of India gradually detached
themselves, migrating mostly southwards and eastwards.^
Leaving now the attempts to determine the primitive
home 01 the Slavs and the date of their immigration into
Europe, and also the names which they have in common,
whether Ucied by iheuiaelvea or given by foreigners, we
will trace as far as possible the derivation of the chief
appellations of the Slavonic peoples. (1) Russians. — For
an analysis of this name see Russia (vol. xxi. p. 87 sq.).
(2) Bulr/arians. — By the 3d century we find Slavs settled
between the Danube and the Balkans. Immigrations were
gojng on till the middle of the 7th century, aslhese hordes
were driven southwards by new invaders. About 681 the
Slavonic settlers fell under the yoke of the Bulgarians, a
Ugro-Fiimisb race, if .we accept the views of SchafarLk,
Drinofl" and others. The origin of the Bulgarians them-
selves is obscure. Some have made them Tatars. Pro-
fessor Ilovaiski believes them to have been Slavs. The
theory which connects the name "Bulgarian," "Bolgare,"
with th6 Volira is now no longer held. Early modifica-
tions of the name, such as Burgari, Wurgari, &c., show
its analogy with forms liko Onoguri, Uturguri, Kutriguri.
The elements of the wore? arc bid and gari. Professor
Vambfiry attempts to derive the name from the Turkish
V(ixh bulga-mak, "to revolt"; but this seems little bettor
than a guess. We are told that Koubrat,. a Bulgarian
prince, made himself independent of the Avars, and that
on his death his territories were divided among his five
sons. The eldest remained in the ancient settlement on
the Volga, where the ruins of their former capital, Bolgari,
are still to bo seen. The third son, Asparoukh, crossed
the Dnieper and the Dniester, and settled in a place
called Onklus, probably the Qld Slavonic ongl, "angulus,"
' Die Hcrkunft der Deutschen : New Forschungen fUber UrgesehichU,
Ahstammung, und VerwandUchafUverhttltnisse unseres Volka, Carls-
ruhe, 1885.
See an interesting article in tbe American Nation (3d December
1885), wlicrc it is shown that the first person to adfocatc this theory,
which secuis to bo gaining ground Among scholars, was Dr Latham, in
liis edition of the Oermania of Tacitua. Thia riiW wm snpportvd by
Theodnr Penfey in 1868
between the Trah.sylvanian Alps and the Danube.^ Fro.u
this place they migrated to the localities which they have
since occupied, where they became mixed with the original
settlers, to whom they gave their, name, just as the German
Franks imposed theirs on the Gauls, and a branch of the
Slavonians took the Finnish name of their conquerors.
(3) Serbs. — See Servia (vol. xxi. p. 688). The name
" Croat " has been already explained under Seevia {I.e.)
(4) The .S/ownes.have preserved an old form of the familj
name, and therefore no explanation is ' necessary. (5)
Poles. — The. first authentic date of their history is the
year 963. Perhaps they are the Bulanes of Ptolemy. See
Poland, vol. six. p. 285. (6) Bohemians or Chekhs.—
The word "Bohemia"— "home of the Boii,"a Celtic tribe
—has nothing to do with the Slavs who came into the
country about 49.5, after the Marcomanni, who had dis-
possessed the Boii. The derivation of the name " Chekh "
or Czech has never been satisfactorily traced. Dobrovsky
sought to connect it with a word ceti, signWying "to begin,"
and thus makes the name imply the original inhabitants.
Schafarik, however, does not endorse this etymology.
Perwolf^ connects it with a root hk, "to beat," and thus-
makes the name mean "the warriors." Whatever the
word " Cbekh " may signify, it occurs, as Schafarik has
shown, in other Slavonic countries. (7) Lmatian Wends
or Sorbs. — The word "Lusatia" (German Lausitz) is de-
rived from the Slavonic lug ov luza, signifying a low,
marshy country.
Slavonic Languages and Literatures.
The first to attempt a classification of the Slavonic ciasd.
languages was Dobrovsky,^ who was followed by Schafarik ^^j""**
and Schleicher. These agree in the main, except thatchara*.
Schafarik was so little acquainted with Bulgarian — at thato"/!^'"*
time almost a lost language — that he grouped it withguaget,
Servian.*" The following are the characteristics of the two
divisions, which we take from Schafarik's account with
some trifling omissions : —
South-eastern. Western.
(1) raz, razoum. roz, rozmn.
(2) iz, izdati. ley, wydati.
(3) korabl, zcinlia. korab, zcmia.
(4) pravilo, molitisa. prawidlo, modliti se.
(5) TnoH, noH. moc, noc.
(6) zviezda, Izvet. hwicsda., gwiazda, kwid.
(7) ago, ego, eko. .
(8) omou, Iqj. emu, ten.
This division, however, has been repeatedly challenged. Schleicher
insisted upon the two following as important principles: (1) primi-
tive Slavonic dj, Ij become in all west Slavonic dialects dz, ls( = c) ;
among the Chekhs and Sorbs dz becomes at a later period z ; (2) d, t
before I, n are preserved in the western dialects, but disappear in
the south-eastern. Upon this last canon Johannes Schmidt' remarks
as follows: "The dentals are preserved in Slovenish, certainly
in the western part of its area ; thus modlim in the Freisiugiaii
documents, in the perfect participles, as predcl, hodcl, plcld, crclel.
fem. d!a, tla, and in the suffix dlo, as krcsadlo, mUtovidlo, "Sidh.
D is also preserved in Slovenish before n, as omladncm, osladncm,
zbodium, padncm, kradncm. T, on the other hand, appears every-
where to vanish before «, as obemcm, ' I go round.' " He also
criticizes two of the principles of difference given by Schafarik. The
nom. sing. masc. of pronouns appears in western Slavonic to bo
increased by n, thus Chekh, Polisli, Lower Sorb, ten ; Upper Sorbish,
ion ; Polabish, to ; this, however^ occurs in the Freisingian mouu-
ments, the earliest form of Slovenish, as ton. This n belongs
to the stem, and is not a particle which has become fused with it ;
ten, ton, original form t'n, correspond to the Old Prussian tins.
The use of tnc preposition vi instead of iz is not a criterion ; vt ia
as much used in Russian as in west Slavonic, thus vtbomi, "tho
' See DrinolTs " Settlement of tho Balkan Peninsula by tho Slavs "
(ZaseUnie Batkanskago Poluostrom Slavyanami), Moscow, 1873.'
* /IrcA. /. stow. /"AiV., vii. 622.
' Inslitutionea Lingua Slavicw Veterii Dtatecti, Vienna, 1822,
• QcschicMe der sla'ciscJten Sprache und lAleratur nach atltH
Mundarttn, Pesth, 1826, p. 32.
' Zur Oeschichte dcs Indo-dennanischm Vocalismtu, port IL f
178, Vienna, 1871-76.
148
SLAVS
village deputy' ; there are trace? of it in Slovenish ; it is only in
Bulgarian and Servian that it is entirely wanting. The principle
laid down that mot, noi represent a south-eastern variation and ttwc,
HOC a western is far from being universally true ; in Servian we have
tsm, " black," as against Bohemian icmy, Russian chlrni. Compare
too Servian' I'sesta, "a road," also Slovenish, with Chekh testa.
Schmidt gives a completely new table of differences, illustrating
them by the accom-
panying diagram.
Casting aside some
ofthedistinguishing
marks previously
adopted, he , makes
great use of the
phonetic law found
in the Slavonic lan-
guages which will
be explai lied shortly.
The reader will easily
identify tlie divi-
sions of. the circle
to which the rules
refer. (1) dj, tj be-
come among the
western Slavs dz, ts
( = c). (2) d, I dis-
appear before I and
n among the Russians, Little Russians, Bulgartans, Serbs, and Croats,
but are preserved by the Slovenes, with the exception of lit, and by
the western Slavs. (3) xt is not used by the Bulgarians, Serbs,
and Croats, but is kept by the Slovenes, Ru.ssians, and western
Slavs. (4) {a) ere by svarahhakti ' became ri at an early period
among the southern Slavs and Chekhs, bat is preserved in its
original form among the rest. It became re at a later period among
the Poles, Polabes, and Sorbs, (b) ele became Ic not only among
the southern Slavs and Chekhs but also among the Polabcs.
Among the Poles and Sorbs elc and the cognate olo became simplified
into le and lo. (c) &n\^ in inlaut became ra among the southern
Slavs and Chekhs. As in early times the Chekhs and southern
Slavs were in close connexion with the Poles and Sorbs, tlie
mutation developed among them ; thus Polish strai with stroi,
Upper Sorbish straza with stroza, Polish and Upper Sorbish, trapie.
(d) dl& in inlaut became la not only among the southern Slavs
and Chekhs but also among the Polabes. This contraction spread
over a wider region than that of drd into ra. That the Polish
also adopted it is shown by the form piazic si^ compared with
l>tozic sic.
Various opinions have been held as to what languages are to he
considei'ed the closert congeners of the Slavonic branch. That they
stand in intimate relations to Lithuanian and Lettish has long been
agreed ; and as a convenient classification it is customary to speak
of them together as the Litu-SIavic family. In Russia there are
1,900,000 Lithuanians (including the Samogitians or Zhmudes).
There are also 1,100,000 Letts. The rest of the Lithuanians,
numbering' 146,312, are in Eastern Prassia, commencing not far
from Kbnigsberg and extending along the shores of the Kurisches
Haff. The Lithuanian language in many respects exhibits an earlier
tj'pe than the Slavonic. It' has preserved the s of the nominative
singular, as in Sanskrit ; but, on the other hand, the verb exhibits
a much poorer form. As Leskien truly remarks,' " it has degener-
ated most remarkably in its conjugation, and in this respect is far
inferior to the oldest knowa Slavonic." He adds that Lithuanian
is of primary importance in the comparative treatment of the
Slavonic languages. Very closely connected with Lithuanian was
Old Prussian, which died out in the 16th century ; the remains
which have come down to us belong to the 15th and 16th centuries.
Old Prussian extended from the lower Vistula (from Thorn down-
wards) to the Niemen. The exact course of the boundary- line
which separated it from Lithuanian can only be approximately deter-
mined by historical arguments. Leskien has proposed "Baltic"
13 a generic name for Lithuanian, Lettish, and Prussian. The
general opinion of philologists is that Litu-SIavic is most closely
connected with the Germanic branch of the Indo-Enropeau family.
Jacob Grimm was the first to assert this. HUbschmann has shown
that Slavonic has affinities with Armenian, and he seeks to make
the latter language a Unk between the European and Asiatic
branches o.f this family. Kuhn* writes, "The Slavonic languages
remained a longer time in close connexion with the Indian or more
probably with the Zend and Persian than with the remaining Indo-
. 1 This is the name given by the Indian grammarians to tlie vowel developed
between the liquids I and r and the consonant with which they come into con-
t.nct, as vlaa^ volos. It has been called in Russian polnoglasie, and in Greek
iydirrffij. ■ It means in Sanskrit " voice-breaking." It is a marked feature
Im the Slavonic languages.
* This is the wax adopted by Schmidt to express the unaccented Slavonic o,
yhich is pronounced a ; the form is taken from Swedish.
» Prof. na. Soc, 1877, p. 40.
' 2ur iUUsIrn Gesch. d. iruloQ. VSlker, Berlin, 1S46, p. 324.
European languages." Bopp regards the separation of the Litu-
Slavic languages as having taken place before the division of the
Asiatic branch of the family into Indian and Iranian.
If we examine the Old or Palao-Slavonic,' the oldest known form
of the Slavonic languages, we may note the following characteristics.'
It has the vowels a, e, i, o, a, i, a guttural i, a short e sometimes
pronoimced as ya, and the semi-mutes I and it. It has also two
nasals equivalent to the French in and on, now only found in Polish
and Kasnoubish, and in some of the Bulgarian dialects ; traces of
them, however, occur in Slovenish and in the words which Magyar
has borrowed from Slovenish.
The Aryan diphthongs have been contracted to single vowels and
the hiatus is frequently avoided by the interposition of ^ (= Eng
y) or V, both of which constantly occur at the beginniug of word:
which formerly commenced with a vowel. The addition of a j
sound before vowels is one of the great characteristics of the Slavonic
languages, called " prreiotization " ; and the inability to mark this
distinctly is one of the deficiencies of the Cyrillic alphabet. It is
also worthy of note that in the provincial dialects v is frequently
put before vowels, as by the lower classes in Bohemia and Russia.
The Aryan aspirates gh, dh, hh have been changed into the simple
explosives g, d, b ; on the other hand, a number of fricatives have
been developed, as s/i, z, and the French j — all unknown to tha
common Aryan — and k is frequently changed to the palatal ch,
Sen-o-Croitian, Slovenish, Slovakisti, and liohemian possess the
vocal r, while t!ie vocal I is found in both Bohemian and Slovakisk.
The latter has also I and r, both short and long.
As regards giammar, the following peculiarities of the Slavonic
family may be noted. A trace of the article exists in the adjectival
termination, as in vdik-i ; but this has been forgotten, and attempts
have been made to supply it in the use of the demonstrative pro-
noun in Sorbish, which appears to have been used in the more corrupt
stages of Slovenish also, but h.is been expelled since the regeneration
of the language. Primus Truber, who translated the New Testament
into Slovenish in the 16th century, was not free from this vice.
The languages being in a high stite of synthesis, the nouns and
adjectives are fully declined, having three genders and seven cases,
— the nominative, genitive, dative, accusative, vocative, instru-
mental, and prepositional. Sorbish and Slovenish have the dual
number in both nouns and verbs. Jlore of the numerals are de-
clined than in most Aryan languages. The verbs have the so-called
aspects, e.g., the iterative, perfect, imperfect, &c., whereby very
delicate shades of meaning are expressed, and this partly atones for
the poverty of tenses in some of them : Russian, for example, has
only one past tense, which is inflected according to gender, having
been originally a past participle. Traces of these verbal asoecb
have been detected in Celtic and in Greek.
We now proceed to classify the Slavonic languages according to
their dialects. The following table has been adapted (in the main)
from the valuable Russian Eislory of Slavonic Literatures by Pipin
and Spasovich.
South-Eastern Branch. — ltussian.—(1) Great Russian: Mos-
cow, Novgorod and northern, Siberian, and central Russian. (2)
Little Russian : eastern, western (sometimes called Red Russian),
and Carpathian. (3) White Russian. 5ii?5ra;i'art.—(l) Old Bul-
garian (the ecclesiastical language ; see below). (2) Modern Bul-
garian : Upper Moesian, Lower Moesian, and Macedonian. Servo-
Croatian and Slovenish. — (1) Servo-Croatian : southern or Herzego-
vinian, Synnian, Resanian, and language of the coast or Dalmatian.
(2) Slovenish : dialects of Upper, Middle, and Lower Carniola,
Styrian, Ugro-Slovenish, Resanian, and Croato-Slovenish
Western Branch. — (1) Polish: Masotian or Mazurian, Great
Polish, Silesian, and Kashoubish. (2) Bohemian : Chekish, Mor-
avian, and Slovakish. (3) Lusatian Wendish or Sorbish: Upper,
Lusatian and Lower Lusatian. (4) Polabish (extinct).
South-Eastem Branch.
Russian Dialects. — These as yet have rarely been scientifically Eaasli
treated ; but that can hardly be a ground of complaint against the
Russian people, as our own are only just beginning to be properly
studied. The work entitled Opit Oblastnago Velikorousskago Slovara
(Attempt at a Provincial Dictionary of the Great Russian Lan-^
guage), published at St Petersburg in 1S52, can, as it.'? name implies,!
only he regarded as tentative : it is no more a scientific production
than is Halliwell's Provincial Dictionary of English. Traces of Ugro-
Finnish words and idioms occur in the rortheni and eastern dialects,
but their importance has been much exaggerated. Whitney's theory
that the Russian verb has beeij modified by Ugro-Finnish influence
claims attention. Some have supposed that the origin of the
svarabhaUi is to be traced to it ; it occurs, however, in Little
Russian and the western languages, as previously shown. It is
much more frequent in Russian th4n in any other Slavonic lan-
guage, and is even more developed in its dialects.' An account
6 Sometimes called " tlje church language."
6 See Hovelaeque, Scie^ 0/ Language, p. 280, Loudon, 1877.
7 The quaint little ^English-Russian vocabulaiy compiled by Richard James
In Russia at the begii>»*ing of the leth century, and still preserved in mane-
SLAVS
U9
of Russian literature is given under Russia, vol. xxi. p. 102 sq.
Siberian Russian is spoken by tlio descendants of prisoners and
convicts who have settled in that vast tract of northern Asia since
Yermak conquered it for Ivan the Terrible. Specimens of it are
occasionally quoted in the letters of Kiichelbecker, the Decabrist,
and other ex^iles. Little Russian is spoken in all the southern
covernnients of Russia. As current in Galicia and Bukovma it is
ialled Red Russian ; an interesting variety is the Gouzoulian dialect
in which Fedkovich composed his poems (see Russia, vol. xxi. p.
110) Me'-t'^on has already been made of the same language as
8TK>ken in Hungary. > There is a good giammar by Osadtza, a
pupil of Miklosich. Tiis Utter justly regards it as a language and
hot a dialect. Till quite recently there were very poor aids hy way ol
lexicons : of the DcuUch-RuOunUchei HandwbrUrbuch by 1 rolcssor
Partitzki of Leniberg the Ruthenish -German portion never ap-
peared ; the vocabularies of Piskunoff and Verkhratzki are but frag-
nientary. A good dictionary, however, is now in course of publica-
tion by Professor Zclechowski of Stanislau, which promises to be
tU that could be desired. The orthography of JIalo or Little
Russian is not yet settled. A peculiar type is used for some of
the books issued at Lemberg, especially the excellent ChUanka
(Reading Book) of Alexander Barvinski. An altogether whimsical
•rthography was adopted by Hatzovik in his Ou-JUnok rudnogolola
(Gleamngs from a Native Field), which appeared at Moscow in 1857.
The following are some of the chief characteristics which mark
off the Little from the Great Russian language. The G.R. ic passes
into i, sspomst=poviest, L.R. ncW™ = G. R. riechka ■ o und^crgoes
the same mutation, especially in monosyllables, L.Ii. pid-L,.ti.
pod. L.R. kin = G.R. kon, L.R. vivsa = G.-R. ovsa where we may
note the tendency to put v before the initial vowel already alluded
to The Russian ou is changed into L. R. v, and mce versa, thus
vmirayou = G.U. ourrJrayou; ouchora, on the other hand is O.K.
vdiera. The Russian g is pronounced h ; the strong t (Polish I) is
changed (especially at the end of a word or before other consonants)
into % or ou, thus O. R. pUal, L. R. pisaou. The Russian { is want-
in^ and L.R. changes the Old Slavonic k and </ into ch and Irench
i ol'tener than Russian does. In the conjugations and declensions
Little very much resembles Great Russian. It has, however, like
Polish lost the present participle passive, which is retained in
Russian, and it possesses infinitive forms with diminutive mean-
inf s Moreover, the accent differs considerably from Russian, 1 be
peculiarities of the Little Russian spoken in the north of Hungarj-
nre fully treated by De VoUant in his Ouyro-Rousskm harodma
Piesni (Ugro-Russian Popular Songs), St Petersburg, 1885.
White Russian abounds with Polonisms, and in its orthograpny
expresses the unaccented Russian o as a. which is m accordance
with the pronunciation ; thus we have slarana for stormm, kago lor
logo. As in Malo-Russian, g is pronounced h, as aharod, a garden ;
cutturals are softened before i>, as na roulzie, " on the hand. Ihe
eoUection of poems published at Vilna in 1844, entitled Piosiki
me'sniacze (Rustic Songs), in what is called the Krevichian dialect,
is in reality White Russian. There is.a good White Russian diction-
ary by Nosovich. . ,. . . . ^, ,.o,
jB«/ffarian.— Connected with the Bulgarian division is the dith-
cult question as to which of the Slavonic languages, ancient or
modern, exhibits the eariiest form. The original tongue is, of
course lost, and only an elder sister remains, but to which language
shall that title be assigned ? In the early days of Slavonic philology
many curious ideas prevailed on this point. According to the old-
fishioncd views the church language was the old and stately mother-
tongue from which all the living dialects had sprung. Russians
coiiMdored it to be Old Russian, Serbs Old Servian, and those who
u.sod the Glagolitic ritual held it to be Old Croatian. These opinions
were very natural. The fragments of the Old Slovenish ai.guage
had not yet been found at Freising, and the only accessible manu-
scripts in the infantine state of the study of Slavistic were recent
cne.s in which Russian, Servian, and Croatian forms were mixed.
The Russians had forgotten many of their historical traditions dur-
ing their long servitude undi-r the Mongols, and the same w^s the
laie with the Serbs and Bulgarians under the yoke of the Turks.
The names of Cyril and Methodius were hardly remembered. Ihc
two precursors of Dobrovsky, but of inferior intellectual calibre,
were the Bohemian Fort. Durich (1738. 1S02), who was the first to
have sound views on tfie relations of Old Slavonic to the later lan-
Ruages, and the Russian Kalaidovich (1792.1832). who threw con-
niderablo light on the question by his edition of the works of John,
the exarch of Bulgaria. He, however, considered the P.alieo-Slavonic
to be Old Moravian. But the foundation of Sbvoinc scholarship
was laid by Dobrovsky (1753-lj829) and Vostokoff (1781-1864) ; the
former treated ihe subject scientifically in his JnstttuUoiics Lingua!
Ulavicat Diahdi Velcris (Vienna, 1822), and the latter edited the
Ostromir Coda; a Paleeo-Slavonic manuscript of the Gosncls wTittcn
ill Russia in the 11th century. Uobrovsky at first considered Falico-
Mflpt In tlie Bodleian, gives some interesting examples ; tluM fur modem
Ilussian sram, "9)inhic."lio given joroin, 4c. ..ii./auvnnln
1 An excellent map of this district Is given in tlic ifavlansli Sbornil (SlB\onlo
Miscellany), vol. 11.
Slavonic to bo Old Servian, afterwards .an early language out of
which both Servian and Bulgarian were formed. Vostokolf was
nearer the truth when h« discovered elements of Old Slovenish.
The views held by scholars with regard to the country from
which the Palto-SIavonic, as presen-ed to us, has come may be
briefly stated as follows. (1) It is Old Bulgarian. This opinion
has been held by Schleicher, Schafaiik, J. Schmidt, and Lcskien
In the latter part of his life Schafarik^ appears to have somewhat
modified his views and to have looked upon it as a mixture of
Bulgarian and Slovenish. (2) It is Old Slovenish, i.e., the older
forin of the language now spoken in Styria, Carinthia, and a pan
of southern Hungary. This opinion was first held by Kopitar and
afterwards by his pupil Miklosich. Among its supporters may alst
be mentioned Danichich and Jagic. (3) Gcitler,* now a professoi
at Agram, leans to the theory that the Russian language is a much
eariier form of Slavonic tluin Old Slovenish. The case for Old
Slovenish is clearly put by Miklosich'' as follows:—
" So far as tlie linguistic grounds of the Bulgarian hypotliesis .ire concerned,
it is undoubtedly true tliat Old Slovenish (Pal.TO-Sl.avonicl agrees with a dialec<
of Bulgarian with regard to the combinations it, id, whereas the CarinthiM,
(Carantanian) Slovenish employs generally e and j ; but how do we know tlinl
the Pannonian Slovenes pronounced I and not W, J and not W7 The Hun
garian vwslol:a (pr. moMoha), )i«( (pr. pcM), and jxiMsl (pa(asW) for the OKI
Slovenish maittlia, wS;, and T'I"'< and ro.-srfo (pr. rozlnia) fur the O d Slovenish
r!Jn postulate the existence of}; and Id in the dialect of the Pannon an SlovcnM.
The nasalized syllables (to expiess the Old Slavonic nasals) in (modern) Sloven-
isli and in the oldest loan words in Magyar from Slavonic separate the languagi
from whirh these words are borrowed from Bulgarian.' Let us also cOMsulcr
the following fact : Modern Bulgarian is more unlike PateoSlavonre than any
other language of the eastern branch. Perhaps it may be obsen-ed with refer-
ence to this that these corruptions have only crept in during the last ccnturiea.
But the language of the Tale o/ the Trojan H'ar (of date 1350) is already Bul-
garian and, whatever may be said to the contrary, Modern Bulgaiian. In the
» ime stage of vocalic corruption is the Gospel of Trnov (Tiniova), which belong*
t.. the year 1273. And does not the s.ime remark hold good of the Psalter of
Bolo"na of the date U8U.U96? A Bulgarian language iilentical with PalKC
Slavonic fades from our eyes like a/nfa morgana however far we follow it.
The same author considers that even before the 9th century the
Slavonic languages were separated as they are to-day. The most
able exponent of the Old Bulgarian theory, Schleicher, writes as
follows : — . , , . . -
" The proofs which Kopitar and Miklosich have urought forward in support of
their opinion appear capable of being overttirown, while facts speak uTesistib|y
for the opposite opinion that church Slav-.nic was the langu.ige of llie 01.1
liiilgarians, especially the softening of origvnal Aryan I and d into s»( and D.J.
And besides linguistic there are also historical grounds. Cyril and his Slavonic
f.llow-workers were Bulgarians.6 Why, then, should they not have written in
their own language, especially since they found no written langu.age among the
other Slavs?" , . .i y-, , «
Schleicher asks, " How came the Bulgarisms in the Codex Syp-
rnsUcnsis [see below], which, according to the opinion of Miklosich,
was written 'in ipsa lingua; pala?oslovenic» patiia'?" He sums up^
" We therefore hold the language which we regard in this work
as alone the oldest to be Old Bulgarian." Schleicher appears to the
present writer to have thft best of the argument.
Modern Bulgaria embraces ancient Moesia, Thrace, and Mace-
donia ; the Danube separates it from Roumnnia ; on the west it 'us
Servian, on the south-west Albanian, and on the south Greek, wdiich
bc'ins to prevail from a line drawn from Saloiiica to Conslaiitinoidc.
Itrarea is dotted by Turkish colonies— the Turks, however, are now
fast emigrating— and there is a considerable admixture of Greeks.
Modern Bulgarian is a very corrupt form of Slavonic. , The vocabu-
lary to be"in with, is full of Turkish words. The wonder is that
the language did not altogether disappear. It uses the Slavonic
demonstrative pronoun as an article, which is placed at the end of
words, as in Rouman, Albanian, and the Scandinavian languages.
The cases are very defective, and are mostly expressed by preposi-
tions. There is no regular form of the infinitive, for which a pcii-
iihrasis is used. The language has only been resuscitated of late
years. An American missionary named Riggs published a sketch
of the grammar and a short -vocabulary. In 1852 the brothers
T/ankoir compiled a grammar in which Latin letters were employed.
There ore other grammars in Bulgarian by >lomchiloirand (Jrouyen.
A dictionary (Bulgarian-French) has since been published by Bogo-
roff, and there are indications that the language wil be scientili-
cally treated, to judge by some excellent papers in the jirchiv/ur
Khwische rhiloloi/ie. From these we learn that in the Bulgarian
dialects the nouns are much more fully inficcted, and trac's ol
nasals are found. The Upper Mccsian dialect is also called the
Shopsko nareehic or dialect of the Sliopi. Juecck s-ays that these
Shopi differ very much in language, dress, ami habits from the
other Bulgarians, who regard then, as simple folk. 1 heir name he
connects with the old Thrurian tribe of the S.ipai. Those l.u|.
garians who have embraced Islnm are called Pouiaks,— a word of
which no satisfactory derivation has been given
1 Ueber den Vr„,run,j und die Ihtma'h d„ WngoUusrny "J »B' j 'f^'^ „,,,
> See his Slarobulkar>l.a Fo«oh,gie >e ,.f..(ym er.teWm k Ja:',lj. I.lleiikemu (Ol.l
Bulgarian Phonology in Relation to l.ithnanian) Prague IS, 3.
» But, as previously stated, nasals h«v,i been found In ""'R"'"" 'Xi^-in ,
t This Is rather s'rongly sUted. They are said to have l>een of Om-k origin,
but Id pnilubly beeoiiiJ thoroughly Bulgarlx-d ; yet th. argi.meni «J^ 1 »
Schleicher remains quilc as strong, for they would use Iho form or t>J»»onii
with which. Ihcy were famlllor. . n . . is-j
7 O Formtnltrc dir Kirchtn.Slawllchtn Sprachr. B is.i3.
150
SLAVS
As for the sake of convenience we group Palaeo-Slavonic under
Old Bulgarian, we shall divide Bulgarian itself into Old and New.
(1) Old Bulgarian. — We have space here only to mention some of
the more remarkable codices, (a) Codex Asseriiani in the Vatican,
edited by Racki, perhaps belongino; to the 11th century, contains
extracts from the Gospels for each day of the year, (b) Codex
Clozianus, so called because it once belonged to Count Cloz of Trent,
contains homUies by Chrysostom, Athanasius, and Epiphanius,
supposed to be of the 11th century, (c) Codex Marianus, found
by Grigorovich in a monastery on Mount Athos, edited by Jagid, of
the 11th century, (d) Codex Zographensis, also edited by Jagi(!,
assigned to the 12th century. These are the chief Glagolitic' manu-
Bcripts. One of the oldest Cyrillic' manuscripts is (a) the Ostromir
Coj^ (see Russia, vol. xxi. p. 103). It is of the 11th century and was
written by the diak cr deacon Gregory for Ostromir, the posadnik or
governor of Novgorod. Other Cyrillic documents are (b) certain
legends and homilies which originally belonged to the monks of
the abbey of SuprasI near Bialystok in Poland. They have been
edited by Miklosioh. The half Cyrillic and half Glagolitic manu:
Script called the Texte dti Sacre must not be forgotten, because on
it the French kings were accustomed to take the oath at their,
coronation at Rheims ; p?rt of it is of the 14th century. There are
also many translations from ihi Byzantine writers in Old Bulgarian,
us from John Malalas, George Hamartolus, and others. (2) Modern
Bulgarian. — The Bulgarians have some fine collections of popular
songs. We can only allude here to the most celebrated, (n) The
edition of the brothers Miladinoff published at Agram in 1S61, —
a very interesting collection, with notes on Bulgarian proverbs and
customs; these unfortunate men were murdered in a Turkish prison.
(4) Thi popular songs of the Macedonian Bulgarians collected by
Verkovich ; of tliis only one volume appeared, now very scarce.
iVerkovich has since published a work entitled Veda Slovena, in which.
he professes to have discovered Old Bulgarian ballads relating to
Orpheus ; but the production is regarded by most critics as an im-
posture, (c) The collection published in 1875 byAuguste Dozon, con-
taining many interesting ballads, {d) Tlie Bulgarian Popular Jliscel-
laijy {Bulgarski Xarodiii Slovnik) of Basil Cholakoff, published in
1873. The'rise of Modern Bulgarian literature is altogether recent.
The father of it was the monk Paisi, who lived towards the end of
the 18th century. He wi-ote a book on the history of Bulgaria in
Bulgarian, which may be compared to the similar one of Raich in
Servian. One of his pupils was Sophronius, bishop of Vracha
(Tratza), who wrote his own life and adventures (1804). A trans-
lation of the New Testament was published 6y Sapernoff in 1821.
George Venelin (1802-1834), a Little Russian from the neighbour-
hood of the Carpathians, travelled in Bulgaria in search of manu-
scripts and had some remarkable adventures there, which are related
in the account of him by BezsonofT ; he may be said to have revealed
the existence of Bulgaria to the west. Among other writers may be
mentioned Rakovski, the author of some eccentric works, but a true
patriot, and Slaveikoff. Vazoff is a living poet of some reputation.
The Bulgarian Literary Society has now been removed from Braila
to Sofia, where it issues its journal {Periodichesko Sjrisanie).
Servo-Croatian and Slovenish. — Of these languages the southern
or Herzegovinian dialect has become the literary language of Servia.
It is sometimes called the " shtokavstchina " from its use of the
word shto for the inteiTogative " what." The language of the coast
or Dalmatian littoral is called ' ' chakavstchina " from the use of cha
in the same way, and Slovenish "kajkavstchina" from the use of
kaj. There is practically no difference between the Servian and
Croatian dialects, but a quasi-difference has been created between
them, much more apparent than real, by the employment of the
•Latin alphabet by the Croats and of the Cyrillic by the Serbs. The
reasons for this divergence being theological, it is probable that it
will not soon be put an end to. The Servian language is the softest
of all the Slavonic tongues and elides many of the consonants. It
is rich in tense forms, having preserved the Old Slavonic aorist.
The accent is capricious.' The vocabulary has incorporated many
Turkish words ; but tliese will probably be gradually eliminated
as the nation wakes to greater self-consciousness. For an account
of Servian literature, see Seevh, vol. xxi. p. 689.
The Slovenes are sometimes called " Wends " and their language
" Windish " or " Weudish," an inconvenient term, as it causes some
confusion with the tongue of the Lusatian Wends, of which more will
be said shortly. Slovenish begins in StjTia just south of Klagenfurt
(Celovec). Besides Carinthia and Carniola, it is also the vernacular
of a small part of Hungary, being spoken in the corner adjoining the
jiverMui-. It is somewhat tiresome to find the few books printed in
' T)ie jii«in 'it the Glagolitic alphabet still remains a puzzle. It is now
considered older than the Cyrillic. According to some, it is a modification
of Greek cursive writing. Others connect it with Armenian and Albanian
alphabets. But none of these views have found general acceptance. The
alphabet is now only used by the Dalmatian Slavs in their liturgical books.
a An account of the CjTillic alphabet is given in vol. i. p. 613 sg.
» The accent in Russian and Servo-Orostian In espisclalljr difficile Professor
Gi-ote of St Petersburg has already written with great learning on the subject, '
and Professor Leskien of Leipsic is now publishing a work, i'nirrsiicliun'jen '
I*- l3"(7n/i(->' und Betonurtg in dn shvixitn SpracheTl. of which the first
part 00 guantily in Servian has already a;^peared.
this part of the country using Magyar ortflography. These Sloveuist
provinces formed a margravate and have long been attached to the
domains of the house of Hapsburg. In 1883 they celebrated the six
hundredth anniversary of this union and a handsome volume was
published in commemoration of the event. For a time they were
seized by Ottocar of Bohemia, but regained by Rudolph 1., who
divided them among his sons. The theory that Old Slovenish ex-
hibits the oldest known form of Slavonic has already been discussed.
The language has preserved a dual both in the noun and the verb and
its vocabulary teems with interesting Slavonic forms. The attempt
of Ljudevit Gaj to fuse Sloveui«h and Servo-Croatian and make one
great South Slavonic literary language is alluded to in Servia (vol
xxi. p. 691). Slovenish exl)ibits an older form of Slavonic that
Servian, just as Slovak" is earlier than Bohemian. A gooo grammai
was published by Kopitar at Laibach in 1808. To this is prefixed
a valuable essay on the Slavonic languages, which was the first
treatment of Slavonic philology in a scientific way ; nothing sc
valuable appeared tiU the epoch-making Inslituliones of Dobio7skj
(1822). Grammars were afterwards published by Metelko and
Murko, but these have been far surpassed by that of Suman, a pupil
of Miklosich * The orthography of the language has been much
improved and it is to be hoped that some "f the Germanisms which
now disfigure it will be expelled. The Slovenes must banish fro'M
their vocabulary such words as farba (farbe), farar (pfarrer), aid
britoff (friedliof).
The earliest specimens of the literature are the manuscripts froiii
Freising in Bavaria now preserved in the library of Munich. The)
have been assigned to the 9th or 10th century and are written io
Latin letters. From that time we find no more trace of the
language till the Reformation, when Truber (in 1557) translate!
the New Testament into Slovenish. He was obliged, however, t<
quit his country. In 1584 the whole Bible appeared at Tiibingeo
under the superintendence of Juri Dalmatin ; in 1584 the firtt
Slavonic grammar was published by Bohorii', a siLoolmnster -^l
Laibach and pupil of Melanchthon; dnd in 1592 appeared tlie fimi
Slovenish dictionary by Megiser.' Alter the Piotcstant movemeiil
had been stopped by Ferdinand IL, the country fell into a tori .r,
as did Bohemia. In this condition it remained during almost tht
whole of the ISih century, —the only productions of that barrel,
period being a few plays and religious works without merit, and
the grammars of Pochlin and Gutsmann. Valentine Vodnik
(1758-1819) was a poet of some eminence. He flourished during
the existence of the short-lived Illyrian kingdom which had been
evoked by Napoleon and was destined to faU to pieces rapidly.
About this time he composed his Iliria Oiivljena (The Revival ol
Illyria) ; but, sympathizing too much with the French, he incurred
the wrath of the Austrians when they came back into possession,
and was deprived of his posts, dying seen aftenvaids.in poverty
Other writers are Jarnik and Ravnikar. The most celebrated poei
was Francis Presern (1800-1849), whose lyiics enjoy great Jiopu-
larity among his countrymen. The Matica Slovenska (Slovenish
Literary Societ} y issue*" a journal and publishes useful woiks. lu
a recent number there is an interesting article by M. Erjavec,
entitled "Fragments from a Traveller's Wallet," where we havo
lists of words gathered by the author from rural districts inhabitee!
by Slovenes. The Resanian dialect of Slovenish may- be said t«-
have been discovered by Professor Baudouin de Courtenay; certainly
no one, before his time had made any study of it. The Rezani,
amounting to about 27,000, live on the north-eastern coiner of
the Italian frontier, in two valleys of the Julian Alps, and art
Italian subjects There is also a work on this dialect by Carle
Podrecca, called Slavia Italiana, The Ugro-Slovenish dialect
although it has not been used much as a literary language, ii
interesting, because it shows some connexion with Slovakish, anc
is thus a link between the south-eastern and western branches <*'
the Slavonic languages.
Western Branch.
Polish.-^The dialect of Great Poland has become the literarj
language. It is a vigorous tongue, but has incorporated too mail)
German and Latin words. The "macaronic" stj'le of Polish writing
which did so niirth to disfigure the language is discussed in Polani
(vol xix. p. 301). Polish has preserved the nasals <f and {. It.-
accent is almost invariably on the penultimate. There are excel
lent grammars by Malecki and Malinowski, and the monuments oi
Old Polish have been well edited by Nehring and Baudouin dc
Courtenay. The splendid lexicon of Linde in six large volumes if
a monumental work. The .Silesian dialect is threatened will
rapid extermination by the encroachment of the Germans. I
has been treated of by Jlalinowski.^ Here also ma^ be menfionei
a book by Krynski on the dialect of Zakopan at the foot of th'
Tatra mountains to the south of Cracow. Under Poland (vol
xix. p. 299 sq.) will be found an account of Polish literature.
* Slovenska Slovnica, by Spisal J. Suman, Lailwch, 1SS3.
B Others have since appeared by Murko and JaneJii*. The Slovenish Literar)
Society is now publishing a dictionary, of which the German-Slovenish p«J>
has appeared in two stout volumes, — a very valuable work.
6 Seitraje zur slavischen DiahctologU : uber die Opjptlnscht ilundart ^'
Cb^rxhte^icn, I^ipsic. 1S73.
S ^ A V S
The Kashoiibisli dialect is spoken by about 200,000 persons
according to HillVrding (others, however, make the uiimber less) in
the neighbourhood of Daiitzic. This dialect presents some very
iiiurcsting variations : among others the accent is free and not
confined to the penultimate as in Polish, and it has more nasals.
Its philology has been treated by Dr Cenova,' who has also collected
their songs and published a small volume of dialogues and literary
miscellanies. The word "Kashoub" appears to be a nickname,
their proper appellation being "Slovintzi." Schafarik- makes the
word signify "goats." The position of Kashoubish in the Slavonic
family lias formed the subject of controversy. In his £cUrdgc :»)•
aiavischai Diakklologic, Herr Leon Biskupski has written an
interesting pamphlet in which he essays to prove that if is only
a dialect of Polish. This is in opposition to the opinions of
Schleicher and Hilfeiding, who have connected it with the extinct
Polabish. The pamphlet contains curious details on the varieties
of Kashoubish : tlie author tells us that every district has Us own
local dialect. For Kashoubish and its dialects Prince Lucien
Bonaparte proposes the term " Baltic "- ; this appellation, however,
would be more appropriate to group together Lithuanian, Lettish,
and Old Prussian, and in this way it has been used by Leskien.
(2) Bohemian (Chckh). —This language has several dialects, some
too small to be specified here ; they will be fouifd enumerated along
with other Slavonic dialects in Eibon's work.' Connected with
the Jloravian is the Hanacky. Both the grammar and the lexico-
"raphy of Chekli have been copiously treated, the latter in the
excellent work of Jungmann. 'Schafarik wrote a grammar of the
old language. The vocalization of both r and I has been previously
mentioned'; A has crept in in many places instead of (/, but this
is not found earlier than the 13th century. The accent is always
on the antepenultimate. ^ ii •
Bohemian literature mav be divided into the three lollowing
periods, in which we follow Tieftrunk in his History*:— (l) the
early period, the productions of which are chiefly of poetrj from
the beginning of Chekh literature till the Hussite wars (1410) ;
(2) the second period, which shows a great development of prose,
but also a great decline in literature generally, extends from the
time of Hus to the latter part of the 18th century ; (3) from the
renaissance of Chckh literature till the present time.
(1) The earliest pej-iod of Bohemian civilization was subjected to
both Latin-German and Greek -Slavonic influences. The Latin
1- alphabet may have been introduced even in heathen times. Bosti-
- slaff of Jloravia invited to his kingdom Methodius, who was
appointed archbishop of the country by the pope. We he.ir even
d- in the 11th century of a Slavonic school in the ^ ysehrad (Wy-
scherad Prague) where St Procopius studied, to whom tradition
assi^rned a hand in the transcription of the Texts du 5'acre, pre-
viously alluded to. Professor Jagic has printed an extiact from
an old service book the language of which shows Chekh influences.
He has assigned the book to the 10th century. Some other very
early specimens of the language are contained in the so-called
Glagolitic fragments, Hlomhj malmhkd. Two ancient hymns
belongin" to this orthodox period o! the Bohemian Church have
come down to us, Hospodine, pomihij[ ny (Lord, have mercy upon
us) and Svatt/ Vaelave, Vevodo Cesk( Zeme (Holy Wcnceslaus,
Lord of the Bohemian land). In 1817 a fragment called Libusm
Soxid (The Judgment of Libusa) was anonymously forwarded tc the
newly founded Bohemian museum. The sender was afterwards
found to have been one Kovai', the steward of Count Collorcdo.
Some critics assigned it to the 9th century ; according to others it
is a forf'ery. With the limited space at our dispo.sal it would be
impossible to discuss the question here. The same year also wit-
n.sscd the discovery by Hanka of the so-called Kbni"inhof manu-
script {Krnlodvorski/ Kukopis), consisting of epic anu lync pieces,
the authenticity of which some critics have atteiniitcd to bring
into doubt. The chief hand in these forgeries is alleged to have
been Wenceslaus Hanka (1791-18G1), who was for some time head
of the museum library and the author of some mediocre verse.
The next poem of any importance is the AUxandreis, a free Chekh
version of tlie Latin work of Philip Walter ab Insulis, surnained
"De Castellione." The Bohemian version was composed by an un-
known author probably between 1240 and 1253. To this time belong
many versified lives of saints and legends, such as those of St
Procopius and St Catherine. The manuscript of the latter poem
has been brought back from Sweden, whither it h.id been removed
<luriiig the Thirty Years' War, and is now preserved at Brunn in
Moravia. The so-called CItroniele of Dalimil, a work of some
importance, belongs to the 14th century. It is a tedious produc-
tion, written in octosyllabics, and extends from the creation of the
■world till 1314. The author is supposed to have been a Bohemian
l<night, but there is no ground for believing that his name was
D.alTmil. The work is inspired by great hatred of the Germans.
We have a good deal of tedious moral poetry belonging to the 13th
century. More interesting matter can be found in the "Satires
151
1 Dit Kasmbisdi-Slovinischt Spraclie. ' Trans. Plill. Soc. 1883.
> Sto rroslond'Tixlnicli Pohadtk, &c. (A Hundred Popular Talca). Pn-uui, 1-E-.
* Second cd., Prague, 18S0.
on Craftsmen" (Salijnj o JUmeslitieich), and a poem on the Ten
Commandments. Jlost of these pieces are anonymous, but the
name of one author is known, Smil of I'aiduhitz, i-urnamed
"Flaska," a leading Bohemian of his day. But little is known of
the events of his life, except that he was killed in a skirmish in
1403. His chief work is the .Vew Council, one of the beast
epics so much in vogue in the Middle Ages. Others, however,
are assigned to him, of which the most original and aniusiyg is
the "Dialogue between the Gioom and Scholar" {Podkoiii a Zak).
A valuable legal document belonging to this period is the Book of
the Old Lord of Rosenberg, whicli is one of the earliest specimens of
Bohemian prose. Rosenberg was royal chamberlain from 1318 to
1346 and died the following year. Another legal work of im^
portance is the " Exposition of the Law of the Land of Bohemia'
(I'ykladna Pravo Zeme Veskc), by Andrew of Duba, chief justict
of the country. Considerable portions of the Bible were translated
into Bohemian during the 13th and 14th centuries. The version
was completed at the beginning of the 15th century. AVickliffe
says of Anne of Luxemburg, the first wife of llichard II., " Kobilis
re<nna Angli.T, soror Cwsaris, habet evangelinm in lingua trinlici
exaratum, scilicet in lingua Bohemica, Tcutonica, et Latina. " There
are two early versions of the Psalter,— the Clementine at the end o(
the 13tli or beginning of the 14th century, and the Wittenberg
also at the beginning of tlie 14tli. The doubts which have been
thrown on the fragments of the early version of the GosncI of St
John appear to be completely dissipated by the well-timed work o(
Dr Jan Uebauer. Dr Adolf Patera has discovered recently another
relio-ious poem of this period.^' Another early prose chronicle
deserving of mention is that of Pulkava, a priest, who died in
1380. It extends from the earliest times to the year 1330, and.
was originally written in Latin, but he afterwards translated it into
Chekh.° "The Weaver" (Tkadlctck), called after the name of lU
author, who lived in the first half of the 14th century, is a curious
prose poem, in which the author celebrated the fair Adlicka, one
of the beauties of the Bohemian court. The pie.-e is full of the
usual conceits of the age ; it has not yet been ascertained whether
it is original or only an adaptation. It very much resembles
Der Ackermann mis Bohmen, of which four manuscripts have
been preserved. Perhaps, as Gebauer has surmised, they arc both
adaptations of a, piece which is now lost. Passing over a
quantity of mediffival legends and tales, such as Flore el Blanch-
flore we need only mention, as dealing with native subjects, the
two chronicles of Stilfrid and Brunevik, supposed to have been
originally written in verse. The roost remarkable Bohemiar
writer of the 14th century is Thomas of Stitny, who writes on
ethical and religious subjects. He was born of a noble family
about 1330, and probably lived till the close of the centuiy. He
appears to have studied at the university of Prague, then newl)
founded. His chief works arc a treatise on General Christian
Matters, in six books (edited in 1852), and the Books of Cliristian
Instruction, printed with an introduction by Vrtdtko in 1873.
His style is -easy and flowing. Loserth has rightJy said that the
object of Stitny was to put in a popular form the sum total of
the scholastic knowledge of his age. There is also a Chekh version
of the History of the Trojan War, composed by Gmdo di Colonna
from Dictys Crctensis and Dares Phrygius ; it was one of the first
printed in Bohemian, ond was issued from the press at Pilseu in
(2) The second period begins with the gi'cat name of Hus, whose
Bohemian writings were edited by Erben in 1865- G8. Hus de-
veloped his native language as Luther did German. He corrected
the translation of the Bible, and improved Bohemian orthography.
We have nine letters written by him while in prison at Constance
During the period of the Hussite wars there was abundance of
political and religious pamphlets. Most of these production.s how-
ever were of cidiemeral interest. The travels of Marco Po'o an;'
Sir John Mandevillo were translated into Bohemian. Pster Chel-
cicky, one of the leaders of the United Brethren, was a popular
writer Ho was a cobbler by trade, hence he was nicknamed
"Kopyta," or the Shoe-Last. His works, written between 1430
and 1456, have a strongly marked democratic tone ; among them
may bo especially mentioned his I'ostils and the Kcl of Faith {SU
Viry). In 14S8 the complete Bible was printed in liohemia, the
first regular printing press at Prague having been set up the year
before. In 1506 a Calixtinc Bible ai.peaicd at \enicc The
national literature made distinct progi'css under George 1 odihrail,
a native king. Vavrincc z Brezove (1370-1455) wrote in Latin
Historia de Bcllo Hussilico, of which there is an early Click h trans-
hition. There is a satire in Latin by Jan Hasistcinsky z Lobkovie,
entitled Lament of SI IVenccslaus over the Morals of the C/.f««.
He was also a considerable traveller in the Last The ChekM
were fond of making pilgrimages to the Holy Land; Martin
Kabatnik was a tn.vcller of this kind. His I'rregrmalwns weru
first printed in 1518. Works on law were written by Ctihor »nd
Viktorin, and many translations from the classics appeari.l
Or^i^cryHruby z Jelene (called Cclenius) and hus son Sigismun.l
• 1 a«c Jirtk. f. Jiaw. thit., vol. vii.
152
SLAVS
were very industrious in this way ; the latter published at Basel
in 1536 a curious dictionary, Lexicon Symphonum, an early attempt
at comparative philology, in which he compares Greek, Latin,
German, and Slavonic. We must find space for a mention of the
writings of Dubravius (c. 1489-1553), bishop of Olmiitz, although
he used the Latin and not the Bohemian language. His work on
fish-ponds and fish [Libellus d« Piscinis et Piscium qui in eisalunlur
Natura, 1547) is uol altogether unknown to Englishmen owing to
the citations in Izaak Walton, with whom the bishop was a great
authority. His most important work, however, was his HisUtry
of Bohemia, in thirty-three boolcs, from the earliest times to the
coronation of Ferdinand L at Prague in 1527, the termination of
Bohemian independence. In 1533 appeared the first Chekh gi-am-
mar, by Esnes Optat. Verse-writers abounded at this time, but no
poet of eminence. Veleslavin (1545-1599) was an indefatigable
worker, being, like Caxton, both printer and , uthor. The Latin
herbal of Andrew Matthiolus, physician to the ar'hduke Ferdinand,
was translated by Thaddeus Hiijek. Some good works on law
appeared, and there are nuantities of sermons. Simon Lomnicky
(b. 1560) wrote a great deal of poetry ; he was the laureate of
Rudolph n., and also wrote a triumphal song for the elector
Frederick when chosen king of Bohemia by the Protestants. He
was severely wounded at the battle of the White Mountain and
spent the rest of his days in poverty ; but there appears to be no
truth in the story that he became a public beggar. The claims
of Lomnicky to be considered a poe't are but meagre; he writes
little better than rhymed prose. There is some merit, however, in
his comic pieces and satires. At this pei-jod flourished the chronicler
Hajek, who appears to have been a priest, and who died in 1553.
His work is interesting, but altogether uncritical, and he does not
seem to have cared much about truth. He gives _us all the old
Chekh sagas, and fortunately uses the Chekh language'. His book
attained great popularity, and was translated into German. Indeed,
it was almost the chief authority for Bohemian history till towards
the close of the 18th century. The travels of Christopher Harant
in the Holy Land are full of learning and of curious matter. A new
edition was published in 1854. The author perished on the scaffold
on the memorable 19th June 1621,' when Bohemia lay completely
at the feet of the Hapsburg conqueror. Harant started for his
journey in 1598, he and his companions being dressed as Franciscan
friars. There is also the account by Wenceslaus Vratislav of
Mitrovitz (1576-1635) of his three years' captivity at Constanti-
nople,— a work full of picturesque incidents. The letters of Karl
ze 2erotin (d. 1636), one of the Moravian Brethren, who was for
some time in the service of Henry IV. of France, have been edited
by BrandL With the battle of the White Mountain in 1620
terminates what has been called the golden age of Chekh literature.
In 1615 the diet had made a resolute effort to protect the national
language. But now the country became Germanized, and books in
Chekh were eagerly sought out and destroyed. In addition to its
sufferings during the Thirty Years' War, Bohemia had the misfor-
tmie to lose many of its most valuable manuscripts, which were
carried off by the conquerors. For nearly 200 years Bohemia ceased
to be counted among the nationalities of Europe. Here and there
a patriot laboured in the interest of his country, such as the Jesuit
Balbin or Balbinus (1621-1688), who was professor of rhetoric at
Prague and author of Epitome Rerum Boheinicarum (1677) and
also Miscellanea Rerum Bohemicarum (16S0-S1). His services to
Bohemian literature were considerable, but his wi-itings are in Latin.
Many authors of repute were, however, at this time in exile, and of
these no one has earned a greater renown than Jan Amos Komensky
(frequently styled by the Latin form of his name, Comenius). ■ This
eminent man was born at Nivnitz near Hungarian Brod in Moravia
and was the last bishop of the Moravian Brethren. After the battle
of the White Mountain he fled to Poland, which at that time had
not altogether lost its spirit of toleration. Here he was joined by
some Polish dissidents and formed the nucleus of a religious society.
In 1631 he published his Janua Linguarum Reserata, in which he
developed a new theory of learning languages. This work bepame
very popular and has been repeatedly translated. He afterwards
visited England and Sweden, and in 1659 gave to the world his
Orfrts Pictus, which also enjoyed great reputation as an educational
work. He died at Amsterdam in 1670. It would be impossible in
a brief sketch like the present to give a detailed list of the writings
of Komensky. Of his Bohemian works we may mention the prose
poem Labyrint Svita a Raj Srdce (The Labyrinth of the World and
Paradise of the Heart) and his Informatori.um Skoly Mcdefskc. He
also translated the Ps-'dms into Chekh. In 1656, on the destruction
of the town of Leszno by .fire, Komensky lost some of his most
valuable works still in manuscript ; we may especially regret his
Poklad Jazyka Ceskcho (Treasury of the Bohemian Language), upon
which he had been engaged from 1612. During the latter part of
the 17th century and the greater part of the ISth'the language and
literature of Bohemia steadily declined. A few scribblers appeared,
such as Rosa, Pohl, and Simek, but their names are hardly deserving
o^ mention. But Gelasius Dobner and Maj'tin Pelzel were valuable
wor'jers in the held of Bohemian history.
(Si The true study of the Slavonic lanmiages may be said to have
begun with Joseph Dobrovsky. In 1809 he published Aui/iihrlidies
Lehrgcbdv.de der bohtn. Sprache. In 1822 appeared at Vienna his
great work InstUutiones Lingiise Slavicse Dialecti Velerii. Dobrovsky
died in 1829. The strange thing aboat him' is that, in spite of all
his labours, he had no faith in his native language and despaired
of its revival. But, like Columbus, he was destined to accomplish
greater results than he expected. Joseph Jungniann (1773-1847),
another regenerator o'' the Chekh language, was author of the gi eat
dictionary and an esteemed translation of Paradise Lost. Besides
these works he wrote a history of Bohemian literature. Kollar
(1793-1852) and Celakovsky (1799-1852) both earned a considerable
reputation as poets, — the first by a series of sonnets called Slavy
Dcera (The Daughter gf Glorj'), under which title he celebrates tho
praises of all Slavonic lands and at the same time his love for tha
daughter of a German pastor ; the second by bis • ' Etho of Russian
Songs" {Ohlas Pisni Ruskych) and the "Rose with a Hundred
Leaves " [Ru.:^ Stolisla). A good poetical stj'le was now formed
for the Bohemians, and a host of minor poets appeared for whose
names we cannot find space. Karel Erbeu (1811-1870) has left some
excellent ballads in his Kytice (Garland). His genius was kindled
by the folk talci with which Bohemia abounds. He conferred
a benefit upon Slavonic students by his interesting collection of
national tales previously alluded to ; moreover, he was a sound
scholar and an indefatigable antiquary. . Pit gesta diplomalica necnon
epislolaria Bohemias el Moravia;, exten<iing to 1253, and editions
of Harant's Journey to the Holy Zand and Nestor's Chronicle are
monuments of his industry. A great impulse to Bohemian poetrj
was given by the discovery of Libusiii Soiid and of the Kralodvorsky
Rukopis by Hanka. Vitezslav Halek (1835-1874) has left two
volumes of poems, which were reprinted in 1879 under the editor-
ship of Ferdinand Schiitz. Halek presents a twofold appearance,
first as the wtiter of a series of narrative pieces of a half dramatic
character, reminding us of the Idyh of Tennyson, secondly as a
lyrical poet In his " Heirs of the White Mountain" {Dedicove
Bile Hory) he has chosen a patriotic subject which must find its
way to the heart of every Bohemian. He has been fortunate in
having some of his poems wedded to the music of Dvofak. Jan
Neruda (b. 1S34), still living, has written " Flowers of the Chuieh-
yard " (Erbitovni JCviti), published in 1858, and a volume of poems
called " Cosmic Songs " [Pisne Kosmicke). According to some
Bohemian critics the greatest of tlieir modem lyric poets is Adolf
Heyduk, born in 1836 and still living at Pisek. Sluch of his poetry
has been inspired by the south of Europe. His " Forest Flowers "
{Lesni Kviti) were gathered, as he tells us, while wandering amidst
the delightful scenery of the Sumava or Bbhmerwald. Heyduk,
although a Slovak, has avoided the Slovakish dialect, which has
been used by Holly, Sladkovid, and others. His patriotism is verj-
conspicuous in Cymbal and Guitar. One of his most popular
works is Deduv Odkaz (The Grandfather's Bequest), the grandfathei
being the genius of the countrj', who instructs the poet. Some very
elegant verses, showing a true feeling for nature with feminine
delicacy of expression, have been published by Mademoiselle Henri-
etta Pech, who writes under the name of " EliSka Krasnohorskj."
Her first volume was published in 1870 and entitled 2 Maje Ziti
(Life in May). Her " Poetical Pictures " (Basnicke Kresby) show
great power of wcrd-piinting. ' M. Josef Vaclav Sladek (b. 1845),
who has published several volumes of original poems, besides trans-
lations from English and other languages, shows considerable lyrical
power. The most voluminous, however, of the modern writers is
Emil Bohus Frida (b. 1853.'. rho uses the pseudonym of " Jaroslav
Vrchlicky." He has been astonishingly active; among his prin-
cipal productions may be mentioned the following, — Mythy (Myths),
which he divides into two^ cycles ; the miscellaneous collection
" From the Depths " {Z Hlubin), which is inscribed to Vitezslav
Halek, and seems to be inspired by the same scenery .as kindled
Halek's fancy ; I>\u:h a Svet (The Spirit and the World), fine lyrics,
the motive of which has been supplied by Greek mythology. He
has subsequently published Dojmy a Rozmary (Impressions and
Fancies), and, besides other translations from various languages, a
version of the Divina Comnicdia in the terza rimaof the original.
He is also the author of some plays which are much esteemed,
especially Drahomira. Dr J. Durdik, J. J. Kolar, and L. Strupez-
nicky have attained celebrity in this branch of literature. Some
good poetry has been written by Svatopluk Ceeh. Some critics
rank him as the greatest poet of the modern school since the death
of Halek. In addition to poetry he has also published fhreo
volumes of tales {Povldky, Arabesky, a Humoresky), collected by
him from .his various contributions to magazines. Many of these
show considerable humour. Another poet by no means to be
passed over in this brief sketch (which c"ly attempts to grasp the
salient facts with regard to these authors) is M. Zeyor, who has
published a series of epic pieces, called Vysehrad, after the well-
■kno\vn Chekh stronghold or acropolis at Prague. The subjects are
all taken from the Old Bohemian legends on Libusa, Vlasta, Lumir,
&c. Zeyer has adopted the Slavonic metre as we find it in the
Servian songs collected by Vuk Stephauovich. Besides these poems
SLAVS
153
lie has written a {rood historical novel entitled Andrew Chcrnishcff,
which deals with tlie iei{j;n of Catherine IL of Kiissia. In 1880
appeared two other tales by the same wriler, Romatue concerning
the Faithful Friendship of Amisa, and Ami!, and a strange book
of Oriental tales styled Pij' Sosany (Stories of Snsannah). As with
HIS, the social romance or novel of domestic life has latterly been
much cultivated among the Chekhs. The legends and tales current
among the peasantry hiivc also been carefully collected, first by
Bozi^na Nemcova (i6£G-ioC2), whose Slovenske PovesU had a very
great success. She was followed by Madame Muzak, authoress of
some of the most popular of the modern Bohemian novels. Her
" Country Komance ( Ffsiu'ci-w Roman) has been translated into
French. Excellent pictures of rural life have also heen given by
A'aelaff Smilovsky (a nom de iilume of Smilauer), who has written
a great many novels, as the "Old Organist" (Slanj Varharnik),
Martin Ohm, kc, muck in the style of Auerbach and Zschokke.
Other vyriters of historical novels are M. Bohumil Cidlinsky and
VaclaffVlijek. Madame Zofie Podlipska, sister of Madame Muzak,
is known as a popular writer of social romances. For an account
of the historical labours of Francis Palacky, see Palacky. Among
the pupils of the great historian the first place must be given to
Vaclaff Vladivoj Tomek (b. 1818), now professor of Austrian history
in the university of Prague, whose chief production is a history
cf that city, which he has carried to a fifth volume. In 1849 he
published the first volume of a history of the university of Prague,
which seems never to have been completed, and in 1880 a biography
of the Bohemian hero ZiBca. He appears throughout as a most
accurate and painstaking writer. Vocel (1803-1871) is the author
of a valuable work, "The Early Days of Bohemi?" {Pravlk Zcmi
ieski), T.hich we have quoted already when treating of Slavonic
ethnology. Alois Sembera (1807-1882), whose literary activity ex-
fended over a long period, wrote voluminously on Bohemian history
and literature. He was professor of the Bohemian language at the
university of Vienna. In a work on the western Slavs (0 Zdpadnich
Slomnech) he maintained that the Chekhs, Moravians, Slovaks,
and Polabes were settled much earlier in the countries which they
at present occupy than many histonaus have been willing to admit.
As a critic. Professor Sembera is an iconoclast and has attacked
many of the (supposed) earlv -nonuments of the Chekh language.
Dr Antonine Gindely, born at Prague in 1829, has proved himself
to be a most conscientious and enthusiastic worker in the field of
historical research. In order to collect materials for his publica-
tions he travelled in various parts of Bohemia, Poland, Germany,
!■■ ranee, Belgium, Holland, and Spain. The results of this diligence
have appeared in a collection of valuable historical works, such as
the History of the Bohemian Brethren, Rudolph II. and his Times,
and later a History of the Bohemian Revolt of 1618. The brothers
Joseph and Hermenegild JiroSek have won a reputation in Bohemian
literature by many useful works. They have conjointly published
a book in defence of the Kralodvorsky Rukopis which is we.l worthy
the attention of-thoso who wish to make themselves acquainted with
tlic literature of this vexed question. Joseph is now occupied m
editing in a cheap form some of the most interesting monuments
cf early Bohemian literature. In 1880 Hermenegild published a
valuable Collection of Slavonic Laws, containing an almost complete
series of the early codes of the Slavs in the original languages.
Joseph Jirei!ek is also author of a useful chrestomathy of Bolieinian
literature with biographical and critical notices. Joseph Constan-
tme Jirecek (son of Joseph, born in 1854), formerly a privatdoccnt
of the university of Prague, has devoted himself to Bulgarian his-
tory and bibliography. In 1872 he published a Bibliography of
Modern Bulgarian Literature, and has written a History of Bulgaria,
of which a German translation has appeared. Joseph Emler and
Karl Tieftrunk have been co-operators with Dr Gindely in his "Old
Monuments of Bohemian History" {Stare Pamiti Dejin Ccskych].
The former has also edited tlie second volume of the Ecgcsta
Bohemica and since 1870 has been editor of the "Journal " [Casopis)
of the Bohemian museum. Karl Tieftrunk has written several
useful works, among them the History of Bohemian Literature from
the earliest period to the present time, and the interesting mono-
<'raph on the opposition of the Bohemian states to Ferdinand I.
m 1547. The History of Bohemian Literature is very carefully
written and gives in a short comjiass much valuable information.
AVi elaborate work is now appearing in parts by F. Backovsky,
entitled Zevrubne Dcjiny Geskiho Piscmnietvl Doby Novi (A Com-
plete History of Modern Bohemian Literature) from the year 1774
to the present time. There is also a work by Jeribek, Early Days
of Romantic Poetry. Many valuable contributions to Boheiuian
history have proceeded from the pen of Dr Joseph Kalousek (b.
1838). Vincent Biandl and Bcda Dudik have devoted particular
attention to Moravian history and antiquities. The former, among
other works, has edited the letters of Karl zo Zerotin, previously
mentioned. Beda Dudik, a Benedictine monk and histonographor
<.f Moravia, has published some valuable works on the history of
that portion of the Bohemian kingdom and has also written a
Hi.':to:-y of Moravia. Like the great work of Palacky, it was first
wiitten in German, but lias siucc a|iucarcd in the Bohemian lau-
22—!^*
guage. Extracts from the interesting uiai^ of scrotin Have beeu
euit°d by liim in the Mdhrisehc Geschichlsquellen. Tliiough hit
eflorts twenty-one Bohemian manuscripts which had been earned
away to Sweden at the time of the Thirty Years V'ar have bee»
restored, and are now preserved in the state archives of Bninn.
Among these is the Legend of Si Catherine, many words ii. wliicU
are said to explain difficult passages in the Kralodvorsky Rukupit
arid to furnish testimony to its authenticity. Jakub Maly (d.
1885) was the aulL'.r of many imporUi^i ort.i.-lea Ii. "'e Slovnik
Aaucny. the Chekh Coniv.rsalions- Lexicon, and of a popuia. hi».
tory of the. Bohemian people. He also wrote a graiMU.-- of Chekti
for Englishmen, besides assisting in the translation of Shakespeare,
which has been pVoduced by the joint labours of many Bohemian
wnicn nas ueeii jnuauucu wj v"v j^^.v ^^*.>««..^ w. --—-.j -;-• ---
scholars. In 1868 was published under thejiditorship of Erben ths
second volume of the Vybor z Literatury Ceske, a very important
work, containing spctljiens of the old Bohemian authors. The first
volume had been edited by Schafarik, for an account of wl.os*
literary activity see Schafarik. Valuable works on philology
have been written by Martin Hattala, by ^'irth a Slovak, who is
,. w professor of Slavonic philology at the university of Prague.
One of his most important productions is in Latin, De Conliguarum
Consonantium Imitatione in Linguis Slavicis. He is a defender ol
the genuineness of the two celebrated manuscripts, the Zelenohorsky
(i.e., "that which voutains the judgment of LibuSa ") and the Kralod-
vorsky. Among sound philologists are reckoned Drs Gebauei and
Geitler. The foi mer has contributed some valuable papers to th«
Archil) fur slawische Philohgie, edited by Professor Jagi(5 of St
Petersburg. The latter, born in 1847, ;s at present professor oj
Slavonic philology at the university of Agram. He commenced
his studies at Prague under Alfred L^ "^P the translator of the
redas, and Hattala, and at Vienna under Miklosicn. Having
be^un with a dissertation in the Casopis on the present condition
of "comparative philology, he published in the same year a work on
the Old Bulgarian language. lu 1873 he made a tour in Russian
and Prussian Lithuania, that, like Schleicher, he migh* study that
interesting language fiom the mouths of the people. He afterwards
published the results of his travels in his Lithauisehe Studien,
Ho has since written a treatise on the Albanian alphabet (Di4
Albanesischen und SlavischenSchriflen, Vienna, 1883). In this an
attempt is made to connect the Glagolitic and Albanian alphabets.
A valuable work was written by Antonia Matzenauer (b. 1823),
entitled " Foreign Words in Slavonic Languages " (Cm Slooa vt
Slovanskyeh Mclech). Excellent works on classical philology hava
beer, published by A. Kvicala and Vanii<ek. Natural science was
successfully cultivated by Jan Svatopluk Presl (1791 -1849), professoi
in the university of Prague, and Jan Ev. Purkyne (1787-1869), pro-
fessor of physiology in the same university. As regards mora!
philosophy, the first part of Dr J. Durdik's History of Recent
Philosophy has just appeared, which extends from Kant to Herbart
Throughout the whole period of the resuscuadoi; of Bohemian
literature the society called tho Matice Ceska has worked energa-
tically, printing its excellent journal oi r.^T^- four tunes a year,
and also issuing some of the old Bohemian classic and meritonoua
works by modern authors. It was a great triumph for the Ch>;kh«
when a part of the instruction of tho university was allowed to be
carried ou in the Bohcm-ian language. A new magazine (Moiwutji
Sbornik) made its appearance at the beginning of 1884. Ihe LuUf
Philologick6 (Philological Leaves) is still published. Recently » ae»
literary journal {The Athenaium) has been started, which seemo U
be more or less modelled upon its English namesake.
Slovak.— This language or dialect is spoken in the north-weste'
corner of the kingdom of Hungary. It is generally considered .
exhibit an earlier form of Chekh, and this is proved by jimny .
its grammatical peculiarities being found in the older Chekh litera
ture. One characteristic of the language is the use of diphthong-
tn cases where the other Slavonic tongues use simple vowels to^
a Ion" time tho Slovaks employed Chekh in all their published
writings. About the close of the' 18th century a separatist n.ove-
ment began. The first Slovak grammar was published by Bernolat
at Presburg in 1790. It was followed by those of DianiSka an<
Viktorm. There is a Slovak dictionary by Loos. The attempt t<
form a new literary language was to be deplored on many grouLdi
for both the Magyar and the German have to bo resisted bor i
short time a literary society existed among tho Slovaks, -hui
published useful books and a journal. Tho Magyars, howe.e.. -up.
pressed it. bo.av«o it was "contra integritatem patntc, as «« «eii
{old by one of their ecclesmstios; The Bohemian ..atura ly .^ enU
the attempts at separation by the S ovak and in If'S t^« C^j'^''
Literary Socl.,ty issued » work entitled "Opinions •", F^''"' ".
One Written Language for tho Chekhs, Moravians, ano Sb.vaki.
{wZveopotfebi^Jcdnoty SpisoriMo J«v>ly^ pro f-^^^.^. ^-"'X
o Sloi»hj) The Slovaks have produced a few poota of roj.uio, «uu
as Holly, Sla^kovid, and Chalupka, but their I.teraurei. ■neaK~
LusatLn fVendi^h.-This language is ^'V'd'^'^ into two J ; Icc^
Upper and Lower, although even these are c„,,ablo of subdi us on
Tfio word " Vrc.o, -evipusly explained, is a purely Gorman na r^
and is never used by tlio Slavs thcmsclvej. The Luaatians aro»18#
154
S L A — S L E
sometimes called Serbs and Sorbs. TTi.jy are the remnants of the
powerful tribes ■which once occupied nearly the whole of north
Germany. The Lusatians in the earlier period of their history were
under the dominion of the Poles and afterwards of the Chekhs. In
the early part of the 17th century the bulk of them had been
annexed to the electorate of Sa.xony, 'with the exception of the
small part about Eottbus, which had belonged to Brandenburg since
1 445. In 1815, however, when the states of Europe were rearranged,
in most instances with very small regard to the nationalities under
their sway, many more of the Lusatians were handed over to Prussia ;
and, according to the statistics of Boudilovich, at the present time
(18S6) all the Lower Lusatians, amounting to 40,000, belong to
Prussia, as weU as 44,000 of the Upper Lusatians. Besides the two
dialects specified there are other minor ones, to judge from an article
in the Bohemian Literary Journal ; but they are too minute to be
specified here. The Upper Lusatian dialect shows most affinity
with Chekh, especially in substituting h for g ; the Lower more
resembles Polish, and has the strong or barred i, as in ios, "hair."
The Upper dialect has been the most cultivated ; some good gram-
mars have been pnblished by Seller, Jordan, and Pfuhl, and there
is a copious dictionary edited by Pfuhl in conjunction with others.
The language is full of Germanisms and German words and cannot
hold out long against the vigorous attempts at denationalization
made by its Teutonic neighbours. There is a small Lower Lusatian
dictionary by Zwahr, a posthumous work of very little merit. The
Macica Serbska, the literary society of the Sorbs, founded on the
model of the Bohemian Society in 1847, publishes its journal twice
a year, which contains Interesting articles on folk-tales and folk-lore
generally, with popular songs taken down from the mouths of the
people.
The first ■printed book in the Upper Sorbish language was the
little catechism of Luther, published in 1597 by the pastor Worjech.
This was not, however, the first time that any Lusatian or Sorbish
words had been printed, for we find the names of plants in that
language given in franke's ITortusXiLsatiw, published in 1594. In
1706 Hichael Brancel or Frencel published a translation of the
New Testament into Sorbish ; a little before, in 1689, a grammar
had appeared by Zacharias Bierling, entitled Didascalia sen Ortho-
graphia Vandalica. In 1693-96 Abraham Frencel, son of Michael,
published a dictionary. In 1806 Mohn translated some extracts
from Klopstock's Messiah. From 1837 a new impulse was given
to Sorbish literature : newspapers were printed in the language and
useful books translated into it. One poet has appeared among them,
Andrew Seller, a clergyman, who died in 1872. Lower Sorbish
has always been much less developed than Upper. Jhe first book
printed in it was a collection of hymns and a catechism, by Albm
MoUer, in 1574. Chojnan, a pastor in Lubin, -wrote the first
grammar between 164-2 and 1664 ; in the latter half of tne same
century Kbrner compiled a dictionary. At the commencement of
the 18th century Bohumil (Gottlieb) Fabricius published his trans-
lation of the New Testament (first edition in 1709) ; at the end of
the same century a version of the Old Testament by Frico appeaj-ed.
A good collection of Sorbish songs has been edited by Haupt and
Schmaler. According to an interesting article by Homik in the
second volume of the SlaviansH Sbomik, a number of these Wends
emigrated to America and settled in Bastrop county, Texas, -where
they have divine service performed in their own language, and
publish some newspapers.
Polabish. — Of the Slavonic languages spoken in the nortn of
Germany the Lusatian Wendish and Kashoubish are alone livuj".
Of those which are extinct Polabish is the only one of ■which any
memorials have come down to us, and these are but scanty. The
language affords a parallel to Cornish, not only in the few fragments
which remain, but also in the date of its decline and extinction. It
is considered by Schleicher,^ who has -written an cxceDent graiamar
by piecing the scanty materials together, just as geologists restore
an ichthyosaurus, to have more affinity to PolLih than to Chekh,
owing to the possession of nasals. This interesting language - ex-
pired in the first quarter of the 18th century in the eastern comer
of the former kingdom of Hanover, principally in the circuit of ^
Liichow, which even at the present time is' called Wendland. ' I
Between 1691 and 1788 certain vocabularies and dialogues in thii ™
language (including also a song) were taken do-wn, and from them
SclUeichar has taken the materials for his grammar and the valu
able littie dictionary appended to it. Dr Pfuhl printed thest
memorials in their entirety in 1863-64. The spelling is altogetbei
Ehonetic, Eind, owing to the ignorance of the Slavonic peasant and
is German interrogators, the former of German and the latter ot
Slavonic, there are some ludicrous blunders. The two most im-
portant of these documents are a German- Wendish dictionary,
compiled at the end of the 17th century by Christopher Henning
by birth a Lusatian, and pastor of AVustrow near Liichow. Divina
service is said to have been ield in that town in Wendish as late as
1751. Secondly, we have the Slavonic "words and dialogues col-
lected by a farmer named Johanu Parum-Schnltz. His manuscript
is still in the possession of his descendants. There is a valuable
monograph on the dialect of the Liinebur^ Slavs by Biskupsld. Ie
the 15th century Slavonic had ceased to be spoken in the island o)
Eiigen, and in the same century it could only be heard from peasants
iu the market-place of Leipsic, a town (as already stated) with e
Slavonic name. What the Slavs, however, have lost in the West
they have partly gained in the East, and few languages have a more
magnificent prospect than Russian, — the dignity and strength of
which £t it to be the tongue of an imperial people. (W. K, M. )
SLAVYANSK, a town of Russia, in the government of
Kharkoff, situated 158 miles by rail to the south-east of
the town of Kharioff, on the Torets river and close "by
several salt lakes. From these talt is extracted to the
annual value of more than £10,000; there are also several
tallow-works in the place. The Stavyansk merchants, carry
on a brisk trade in salt, cattle, and tallow. The population
(11,650 in 1870) reached 15,400 in 1883.
The ancient name of Stavyansk was Tor. The town, which is
supposed to occupy the site of a former settlement of the Torks
(Turks) who inhabited the steppes of the Don, was founded in
1676 by the Russians to protect the salt marshes. Having an
open steppe behind it, this fort was often destroyed by the Tatars.
Its salt trade became insignificant in the 18th century and has
only revived during the last twenty years since coal was brought
from Ekaterinoslafi'.
SLEEP is a normal condition of the body, occurring
periodically, in which there is a greater or less degree of
unconsciousness due to inactivity of the nervous system
and more especially of the brain and spinal cord. It may
be regarded as the condition of rest of the nervous system
during which there is a renewal of the energy that has been
expended in the hours of wakefulness, Eor in the nervous.
8ys)lem the general law holds good that periods of physio-
logical rest must alternate -with periods of physiological
activity, and, as the nervous system is the dominating
mechanism in the body, when it reposes, all the other
systems enjoy the same condition to a greater or less
extent. Rest alternates with work in all vital phenomena.
After a muscle has contracted frequently at short intervals,
a period of relaxation is necessary for the removal of waste
products and tha restitution of energy ; the pulsating heart,
apparently working -without intermission, is in reality not
doing so, as there are short intervals of relaxation between
individual beats in which there is no expenditure of energy ;
the cells in a secreting gland do not always elaborate, but
have periods when the protoplasm is comparatively at rest.
Nervous action also involves physico-chemical changes d'
matter and the expenditure of energy. This is true even
of the activity of the brain associated -with sensation, per-
ception, emotion, volition, and other psychical phenomena,
and ther'ifore the higher nervous centres require rest, duruig
which they are protected from the stream of impressions
flowing in from the sense-organs, and in which waste matters
are removed and the cerebral material is recuperated for
another time of wakeful activity.
The coincidence of the time of sleep -witTi Qie Dccmrence
of the great terrestrial phenomena that cause night is m.QrB
apparent than real. Tie QscUlations of vital activity are
not correlated to the terrestrial revolutions as eflfect and
cause, but the occurrence of sleep, in the majority of cases,
on the advent of night is largely the result of habit.
"vVhilst the darkness and stillness of night are favourable
to sleep, the state of physiological repose is deterinined
more by the condition of the br>dy -itseli. Patigue -wili
normally cause sleep at any time of the twenty-four hours.
Thus many of the lower animals Jiabitually .sleep during
' Lout' vTid Fonnen-Lere der Polaiischm Sprache, St Petersbma
1871.
* To avoid conforion It most be remembered that the Wuii PoU^
hish'*i3 used somewhat carelessly by ethnologists to denote (1) tha
Slavonic tribes in north Germany generally, (2) the particular SUt>
1 omc iiioo on ^.e E'be (Slav. Laia),
SLEEP
155
the day and prowl in search of food in the night ; some
hibernate during the winter season, passing into long
periods of sleep during both day and night ; and men whose
avocations require them to work during the night find that
they can maintain health and activity by sleeping the
requisite time during the day.
The approach of sleep is usually marked by a desire for
sleep, or sleepiness, embracing an obscure and complicated
group of sensations, resembling such bodily states of feeling
as hunger, thirst, the necessity of breathing, &c. All of
these bodily states, although on the whole ill defined, are
referred with some precision to special organs. Thus
hunger, although due to a general bodily want, is referred
io the stomach, thirst to' the fauces, and breathing to the
chest ; and in like manner the desire for sleep is referred
chiefly to the region of the head and neck. There is a
feensation of weight in the upper eyelids, irtermittent spasm
bf the sub-hyoid muscles causing yawning, and drooping
of the head. Along with these signs there is obscuration
of the intelligence, depression both of general sensibility
and of 'the special senses, and relaxation of the muscular
system. The half- closed eyelids tend more and more to
close ; the inspirations become slower and deeper ; the
muscles supporting the lower jaw become relaxed, so that
the mouth opens ; the muscles of the back of the neck
that tend to support the head ^.Iso relax and the chin
droops on the breast ; and the limbs relax and tend to fall
into a line with the body. At the same time the hesitating
utterances of the sleepy man indicate vagueness of thought,
and external objects gradually cease to make an impression
on the senses. These are the chief phenomena of the advent
of sleep. After it has supervened there are many grada^
tions in its depth and character. In some dases the sleep
may be so light that the individual is partially conscious of
external impressions and of the disordered trains of thought
and feeling that pass through his mind, constituting dreams,
and these may be more or less vivid according to the degree
'of consciousness remaining. On the other hand, the sleep
may be so profound as to abolish all psychical phenomena :
there are no dreams, and when the sleeper awaies the time
passed in this unconscious state is a blank. The first
period of sleep is the most profound. After a variable
period, usually from five to six hours of deep sleep, the
faculties awaken, not simultaneously but often fitfully, so
that there are transient periods of consciousness. This is
the time of dreaming. As the period of waking approaches
the sensibility becomes more acute, so that external impres-
sions are faintly perceived. These impressions may influence
iind mould the flow of images in the mind of the sleeper,
frequently altering the nature of his dreams or making
them more vivid. The moment of waking is usually not
instantaneous, but is preceded by an intermediate state
of partial consciousness, in which there are feelings of a
pleasant lassitude, a sense of repose, a luxurious abandon-
ment of the body to any position in which it may happen
to be, and a strange play of the mental faculties that has
more of the character of an "intellectual mirage " than of
consecutive thought.
The intensity of sleep has been measured by Kohlschiitter
by the intensity of the sound necessary to awaken the sleeper.
This intensity increases rapidly during the first hour, then
decreases, sometimes rapidly, sometimes slowly, during the
next two or three hours, and then very slowly until the
time of waking. This statement agrees generally with
experience. As a rule the deeper the sleep the longer it
lasts.
Various physiological changes have been observed dur-
ing sleep, but much remains to bo done in this direction.
The pulse becomes less frequent ; the respiratory move-
ihients are fewer in number and are almost wholly thoracic,
not abdomiHa:! ; all the secretions are reduced in quantity;
the gastric and intestinal peristaltic movements are less
rapid ; the pupils of the eye are contracted and during
profound sleep are not aflfected by light ; and the eyeballs
are rotated upwards; The pupils dilate slightly when
strong sensory or auditory stimuli are applied, and they
dilate the more the lighter the sleep ; at the moment of
waking they become widely dilated. Whilst muscular
relaxation is general, there seems to be increased contrac-
tion of certain sphincter muscles, as the circular fibres of
the iris and the fibres concerned in closing the eyelids.
The state of the circulation of the brain has been fre-
quently investigated. The older view was that there was
a degree of plethora or congestion of the vessels of the
brain, as is the state of matters in coma, to which the
state of sleep has a superficial resemblance. Coma, how-
ever, is not sleep, but a condition of inactivity of the
cerebral matter owing to the accumulation of dark venous
blood in its vessels. This has been actually observed in
cases where it was possible to see the brain. During
sleep the surface of the exposed brain has been observed
to become pale and to shrink somewhat from the sides of
the opening (Blumenbach). A careful experimental re- nurhsa
search was conducted by Arthur E. Durham in 1860, in uoaaT
which he trephined a portion of bone as large as a shilling
from the parietal region of a dog, and, to obviate the
eSects of atmospheric pressure, inserted a watch glass
into the aperture so that the surface of the brain could
be seen. His results are summarized thus : —
" (1) Pressure of ^tended veins on the brain is not the cause of
sleep, for dming sleep the veins are not distended ; and, when they
are, symptoms and appearances arise which differ from those which
characterize sleep. (2) During sleep the brain is in a comparatively
bloodless condition, and the blooa in the encephalic vessels is not
only diminished in quantity, but moves with diminished rapidity.
(3) The condition of the cerebral circulation during sleep is, from.
physical causes, that which is most favourable to Sie nutrition of
the brain tissue ; and, on the other hand, the condition which
prevails during waking is associated with mental activity, because
it is that which is most favourable to oxidation of the brain sub-
stance, and to various changes in its chemical constitution. (4)
The blood which is derived from the brain during sleep is distri-
buted to the alimentary and e.^cretory organs. (5) Whatever in-
creases the activity of the cerebral circulation tends to preserve
wakefulness ; and whatever decreases the activity of the cerebral
circulation, and, at the same time, is not inconsistent with tho
general health of the body, tends to induce and favour sleep.
Such circumstances may act primarily through the nervous or
through the vascular system. Among those which act through
the nervous system may bo instanced the presence or absence of
impresjiona upon the senses, and the presence or absence of excit-
ing ideas. Among those wliich act through the vascular system
may be mentioned unnaturally or naturally increased or decreased
force or frequency of the heart's action."
Dr William A. Hammond and Dr Weir Mitchell have
repeated and extended Durham's observations, with the
same general results (1866), and more recently Ehrmann,
SalathfS (1877), Francois Franck (1877), and Mosso (1881),
by more refined methods of observation, have arrived at
the same general conclusions. Mosso in particular has
applied with great success the graphic method of registra-
tion to the study of the movements of the brain and of
the circulation during sleep. He made observations on
three persons who had lost a portion of the cranial vault
and in whom there was a soft pulsating cicatrix. They
were a woman of thirty-seven years of age, a man of
thirty-seven years, and a child of about twelve years. By
special arrangements, Mosso took simultaneous tracings
of the pulse at the wrist, of tho beat of the heart, of tho
movements of tho wall of the chest in respiration, and of
the movements of the denuded brain. Further, by mcana
of tho plethysmogrnph, — an instrument of Mosso's own in-
vention,— he obtained tracings showing changes in tho
volume of the band and forearm ; and ho succeeded in
showing that during sleep there is a diminished amount
156
BLEEP
of blood in tlic brain, and at the same time an inci eased
amount in the extremities. He showed further that there
are frequent adjustments in the distribution of the blood,
even during sljep. Thus. a strong stimulus to the skin or
to a sense organ — but not strong enough to awaken the ■
sleeper — caused a contraction of the vessels of the fore-
arm, an increase, of blood pressure, and a determination
of blood towards the brain ; and, on the other hand, on
suddenly awakening the sleeper, there was a contraction
of the vessels of th -■ brain, a general rise of pressure, and
an accelerated flow of blood through the hemispheres of
the brain. So sensitive is the whole organism in this
respect, even during sleep, that a loudly spoken word, a
sound, a touch, the action of light, or any moderate
sensory impression modified the rhythm of respiration,
determined a contraction of the vessels of the forearm,
increased the general pressure of the blood, caused an in-
creased flow to the brain, and quickened the frequency
of the beats of the heart. These observations show how
a physiological explanation can be suggested of the influ-
ence of external impressions in modifying the dreams of
a sleeper. Further, Mosso found that during very pro-
found 'sleep these oscillations disappear : the pulsatory
movements are uniform and are not aflFected by sensory
impressions, and probably this condition exists when there
is the absolute ■ unconsciousness of a "dead" sleep. .By
'such methods as have been employed by Mosso, three
movements of the brain have been observed, — (1) pvlsa-
tions, corresponding to the beats of the heart ; (2) oscilla-
tions, or longer waves, sometimes coinciding with the_
iieart beats, or more generally consisting of longer festoons,
carrying each a number of smaller waves, and believed to
correspond generally to the respiratory movements.; and
(3) undulations, still longer and less marked elevations
and depressions, first clearly observed by Mosso, and
believed by him to indicate rhythmic contractions of the
vessels of the pia mater and of the brain. This view is
in keeping with the observations of Bonders, Kussmaul,
Tenner, and others on changes of calibre observed in the
cerebral vessels, and with the experiments of many physio-
logists, showing that the vessels of the pia mater, like other
vessels, are controlled by the vaso-motor system of nerves
(see Physiology, " Nervous System "). It may therefore
be considered certam that during sleep there is an anaemia,
or partially bloodless condition, of the brain, and that the
blood is drawn off to other organs, whilst at the same time
this ancemic condition may be modifiea by changes in the
circulation or in the respiratory mechanism caused by posi-
tion, by sensory impressions, or by sudden changes in the
state of repose of the muscles. The examination of the
retina (which may be regarded as a cerebral outwork) by
the ophthalmoscope during sleep also shows a compara-
tively bloodless condition. Such are the facts ; the de-
ficiency in the way of a theoretical explanation is that
physiologists cannot satisfactorily account for the anemic
condition causing unconsciousness. Sudden haemorrhage
from the brain and nerve-centres, or a sudden cessation of
the supply of blood to the brain, as occurs in syncope
(failure of the heart's action, — a faint), no doubt causes
unconsciousness, but in these circumstances there is a
tendency to convulsive spasm. Such spasm is usually
absent in sleep, but sudden jerks of the limbs may some-
times be observed during the time when there is the con-
fusion of ideas preceding the passage into sleep.
During sleep the amount of carbonic acid eliminated is
very much reduced, indicating that molecular changes in
the tissues do not occur to the same extent as in the wak-
ing, state. This is also shown by the fact that less heat is
produced. Helmholtz states that the amount of heat pro-
duced by a man weighing 67 kilogrammes (147"4 fc) is
about 40 calories per hour during sleep," as against 112
calories per hour while awake. This diminished production
of heat may be largely accounted for by the quiet condition
of the muscles of locomotion, but it also indicates dimi-
nished tissue changes throughout the body. In profound
sleep the bodily temperature may fall from "G" to 2° Fahr.
In consequence of diminished oxidation changes during
sleep, it is not improbable that excess of nutrient matter
may then be stored up in the form of fat, and that thus
the proverb " He who sleeps dines " is based on a correct
appreciation of the fact that sleep tends xo produce plethora^
or obesity. ^
Whilst it is easy to state that sleep is caused by fatigue
of the nervous system, it is a more difiicult matter to ex-
plain what the precise changes are that produce the stats
of unconsciousness. Various hypotheses have been ad-
vanced, but it cannot be said that any one is wholly satis-
factory. Aware that the fatigue of muscle is associated
with the accumulation of sarcolactic acid, Preyer surmised
that the activity of nervous matter might be interfered
with by the accumulation in the nerve-centres of some
such acid, or of its soda salt (lactate of soda), but this viei»
has not been supported by the results of experiment, as
the injection into the blood of a dose of lactate of soda has
not produced sleep. Pfliiger has observed that frogs de-
prived for a considerable time of oxygen passed gradually
into a state resembling profound sleep, and he has advanced
the theory that there is no organ of the body so quickly
affected by deprivation of oxygen as the brain. According
to Pfliiger, the phenomena of life depend on a dissociation
of living matter, and in particular the activity of the cere-
bral substance connected with psychical states depends on
dissociation changes in the grey matter. To excite the
dissociation, however, oxygen is necessary. The oxygen
unites with certain of the compounds set free by the dis-
sociation, forming, amongst other substances, carbonic
acid. If such matters as these that unite with oxygen are
in suSicient amount to use up all the oxygen, the grey
matter of the brain suffers from a deficiency of oxygen
(or from its absence), and also from the accumulation of
carbonic acid. According to such a theory, cerebral
activity depends on cerebral respiration, and sleep is a
kind of cerebral asphyxia. Some such condition is not
improbable, but it must be stated that the evidence at
present in support of it is meagre. Possibly, in attempt-
ing to account for the phenomenon of sleep, too much im-
portance has been attributed to the changes occurring in
the brain, forgetting that not merely brain matter but every
tissue of the body becomes exhausted by work, and that
sleep may be partly due to phenomena occurring through-
out the body and not in the brain alone. Some more
comprehensive hypothesis than any yet advanced may be
possible when the condition of all the functions during
sleep has been more thoroughly investigated.
All the phenomena of sleep point to a diminished ex-
citability of the cerebral nerve-centres and of the spinal
cord. Contrary to what is often stated, there can be no
doubt that reflex action is in partial abeyance and that the
spinal cord is in a state of partial inactivity as well as th»
brain. The only nerve-centres that do not sleep are tho.-.-
absolutely essential to life, such as those connected wit.
the heart, with respiratory movements, and with the dis-
tribution of blood by the vaso-motor arrangements ; and
Mosso's experiments indicate that even these have a certain
amount of repose in profound sleep.
There is little doubt that all living beings require periods
of repose alternating with periods of activity. Many
plants close their flowers and bend their petioles at certain
times of the day. These phenomena, called " the sleep of
plants," depend apparently on changes in solar radiation,
SLEEP
157
and there is no reason to believe that during the time of
nuiesccnce any reparative processes go on, as during the
sleeping period of animals. Naturalists have observed
many of the lower animals apparently m a state of sleep
Insects, crustaceans, fishes, reptiles, may all be observed
occasionally to be almost motionless for considerable
neriods of time. The sleeping of birds is familiar to al ,
and in these there are anatomical arrangements by which
the bird may, like the crane, sleep perched on one leg, or
crraspincr a branch with both feet, Hke perchmg birds
generally, without any muscular effort and consequently
without fatigue. .
The amount of sleep required by man varies according
to age, sex, and habit. The popular notion that a child
sleeps half its time, an adult one-third, whilst an old person
may do Uttle except eat and sleep is not far wrong. In
jearly life the cerebral faculties appear to be easily exhausted
and during the frequent and prolonged sleeps of infancy
the brain rests and the vegetative changes connected with
nutrition and growth go on actively. As life advances,
less sleep is required, until in adult life a period of seven
or eight hours is sufficient. As a rule, women require more
sleep than men ; but much depends on habit. Thus most
women bear the loss of sleep ia the first instance better
than men, because they have been accustomed more to
loss or irregularity of sleep. The effect of habit is well
seen in nurses, both male and female, who will often be
able to work for weeks continuously wth snatches of sleep,
not amounting to more than two or three hours daily.
Sooner or later, however, even in these cases nature asserts
her demands, and prolonged sleep is necessary to maintain
health and vigour.
Wakefulness during the time when one ought to be asleep is fre-
buentlv a distressing condition, undermining the strength and
?ncapacitatinr' for active and efficient .^■ork. Insomnia or sleepless-
Sften afflicts those of active mental habits and lays the foun( la-
?ion of premature decay. From what has been stated as to the
cause of sleep it is evident that whatever tends to augment unduly
the circulation through the brain may cause wakefulness. Ihus
long continued or excessive intellectual action, or any powerful
emotion? may be injurious. Moderate intellectual work is favour-
able to sleep. The remedy in such cases is to avoid as far as possible
the e°ci in^" causes or to connteract them by bodily exercise and
IttentTon tS the general health. When sleeplessness overtakes a
.brain-worker it islsure indication that less i";^^/'^*"^ .^■^'-^J";'*
be done, and that he ought to betake himself, if possible, to out-
,f.door exercise in the pure air of the country. It is dangerous to
Lsisf and still more to induce sleep artificially by drugs, as tne
^^Ir^orked organ may become the Lat of permanent disease or
peSLious habfts may be formed. The posture of the body in bc^d
mav influence sleep. Thus such positions as impede the flow ot
Sood from the brain without affecting the supply of blood to it
hv the arteries may causa sleeplessness. Sometirncs in cases of
n'^^omnia m exci'ssive mental work there is the distr^sing con-
dition that sleep disappears when the person lies down in bed
iltCch before lying iown he felt drowsy. In such a case resting
Jitht^e head high may produce the desired result. Insomnia
nav al 0 be causeT by various functional diseases, whereby the
.mount of blood in the^rain is increased. Thus in young femal-
Urangement of the menstrual functions may cause a hypenesthe^^*
rTncfeased sensibility to.such »".<=-'«°'i-i;^V^'^l rp-^^l eTby
.leeo or if sloop be obtained. •* is so light as to bo (Uspeliea uy
^ea& sensory mpressions that would fail to arouse a healthy person.
Itain an irregular or deficient action of the heart may cause wakc-
fXes^ especiany if associated with coldness of the extremities.
n uch cTs trapplication of heat to the feet and .^-tlen -on to
the dicestive organs may produce refreshing sleep. Lastlj, tuo
Ixcessfvc ule of Lious dni^s, such as alcoho?. op.um. bcl adonna
7ufmost°di:t?essLg symptoms of delirium tremens a^
also in those in the habit 0/ indulging m oj^"^™"^'; '■^' f '"^^^
or Indian hemp. The general correctives of sleeplessness are active
work a mod'Ste amoLt of bodily exercise, f-edom from won^
and knxiety, the.use of the warm bath in some -- to^»JW,-.
<Iucc to sleep, bnt n>! a ■"''» t'te snnpors flru imravourable. The
use of drugs s'hrfuld be indulged m only with medical advice. It is
not too much to sav tbat the iniudicious use of bromide of potassium,
chloral, opium, morphia, and stimulants by litcraiy -persons to
procure sleep has often been productive of sad results, such as
shattered health, an incurable habit of self-iudulgence, and even
accidental death (see Hammond, On lyakf/ulness).
It is a. niatter'of common observation not only that certain .per-
sons require more sleep than others but that they have less power
of resisting its onset and of awaking. This condition may become
morbid, constituting a veritable nei-vous disease, to which the
name "raaladie du sommeil " or hypnosia may be given. It mav
I be described as invincible sleep, and it may continue for weeks ami
for months, terminating in convulsive seizures, and even death.
lor montns, lerminauug m tuuvui^i.c ovi^,«.v,.,,
A persistent drooping of the ujiper eyelid has been obser\-ed even
during waking hours. Dr W. Ogle has observed in such case.sau
and anxiety, tne use 01 ino waun u.l.. ... -"■— - .i,„ imii
tability belVire going to bed, and such a PO«t''^« >" ^•"'^"„'' J^?^",^'^
vidual has found in his own case to bo favourable .^""^'"r'"
UmA but nutritious meal about an hour before retiring may eon-
during waking nours. ur «. ugie ii.i» uu^ci.tv^ ..' °.""' ;■"-:""
endorsement of the cervical ganglia of the sjTnpathetic ; but this
may have nothing to do with the condition. Cases of very pro-
lontred sleep are not uncommon, especially amongst hysterical
females, lasting four, seven, or ten days. On awaking the patient
is exhausted and pale, with cold extremities, and not uafrequently,
after a brief interval of waking, passes off into another lethargic
sleep. Something similar to this may be seen in very aged persons
towards the close of life. . ,„ > , u 1 •.
Dreams {cf. Dream, vol. vii. p. 452 sq.) only occur w;hen sleep is
li.^ht and they indicate that consciousness is stUl continued, the
characteristic feature of dreaming is that the mind has no (Mntrol
over the groups of images that crowd upon it These images are
either revivals of old sensory impressions that have been stored up
in the brain or they are the rtsult of an untrammelled imagination.
The wUl has lost the power of direction and control ; ideas, often
trrotcsnuc, always confused, rise apparently spontaneously, are viviil
for an instant, and then disappear. Dreaming may be describedas
a kind of physiological delirium. A consideration of the state id-
dioates that the cerebral hemispheres are partially active and that
it is the inhibitory power that is deficient(seePHVSiOLOGT "Nervous
Svst-ra") A further explanation cannot be given in th^ present
state" of our knowledge of cerebral physiology, but some of the raori
evident conditions or laws of the dreaming state may be uidicated.
(U The character of dreams is often uolermmed by a predominani
thou-'ht or train of ideas that has occupied the mind before goinj.
to sleep Thus the events of the preceding day may produce a
particular kind of dream, and not unfrcquently when a person
attempts on waking to unravel his dream he may fi?<l the connect-
ing thread in an occurrence or in a conversation or in the thoughts
su"-csted by a book on the previous day. It would thus seem
?hat th^ memory of recent things (and phys ologically there must
be an organic basis for memory) may revivify old and apparently
forgotten impressions. (2) In dreaming, the tram of thought may
be influenced by impressions made on the senses of the sleeper
suEcLtly intense to produce this result, but not intense enough
to awake him. Thus a sudden sensory impression, such as a loud
sound, a current of cold air, a restrained position of one of tho
Ih^bs, a word or sentence uttered by a fami*l,ar voice, may arouse
atoam or turn the disordered throng of fancies in a "e^^f '[^^t °";
In some instances, the dreamer is peculiarly susceptible to such
e-ternal impressions, so that the same stimulus will always givo
rise to t he same kind of dream. (3) It has frequently been observed
that in dreaming there may be memories of old impressions, scenes,
acos words, tha? have long since faded f^om.the recollection durin.
waking hours, showing that many impressions that are s"PPOsed
0 be lost are only forgolten and require kt the areropnate SU^^^
to cause them to start vividly into mental life. (4) In rare in-
stances there maybe consecutive thought in dreams so that the
drearier may WTite verse. fr"-mo speeches, or even £5^\oi,t ma he-
matical moblems. Host persons have had experience of this
range k~f power and hive regretted, in the partially conscious
sSe before awaking, that they could not preserve some of th.
results fueling assured that the sober realitj- of wakmg life would
disoei the vTsfon (5) Dreams make only a feeble impression 01
Keruory so tliat L awaking what is at first vivid and disb..
fades insensibly and rapidly av.ay. This may bo accounted for 6y,
he vanescentd,aract/r of'thc m'enta! "stuQ- of dream. In h
waking state an act of attention is required to fix anything n th.
mcmofy. and, as this is absent in dreaming, the iinpix-ssions do not
kar^perminent effect. For this rea.«on also in dreams we lav.
no memory of former dreams. {«) All have obsen-ed that be cw
no feeling of time or of space in dreams. We live in an uUmiI wo A
This probably arises from tho absence of fixity of thought, so tha
there is no apparent connexion between the fuecessive P'---t» ; "^
IhoTmaJ nation (7) In some dreams tho activity of th.. ccrebrut^
'"such Klhe'triin' of thoughts, prompts 'o ."ovenicnt, and U.
Si"-^c^.r''T^rv::i^j^^^>j^-r^?-ditio.
apparently unconscious of all oxtonial uuuression*. after a tUM
158
S L E — S L E
return to bed, and whfn they are awalie they have no recollection
of any of these occurrences. Sometimes the actions performed are
of a complicated character and bear some relation to the daily life
of the sleeper. Thus a cook has been known to rise out of bed,
ea'ri'y a pitcher to a well in the garden, fill it, go back to the house,
fill various vessels carefully and without spilling a drop of water,
then return to bed, and have no recollection of what had transpired-
Again, somnambulists have been observed to write letters or reports,
execute draiviugs, and play upon musical instruments. Frequently
they have gone along dangerous paths, executing delicate move-
ments with precision. Four types of somnambulist may be
noticed, — (1) those who speak without acting, a common- variety
often observed in children and not usually considered somnam-
bulistic ; (2) those who act without speaking, also well known and
the most common type ; (3) those who both act and speak, more
exceptional ; and (4) those who both act and speak ami who have
not merely the sense of touch active but also the senses of sight
and hearing. The fourth class is the most extreme type and merges
into the physiological condition of mesmerism or hypnotism. This
peculiar condition has already been fully described under animal
magnetism (see Magnetism, AnimalI, and it is necessary here only
to notice it in connexion with the subject of sleep. Many observa-
tions indicate that, at all events in some cases, the somnambulist,
engaged, for example, in writing, has a mental picture of the page
before him and of the words he has written. He docs not see what
he really writes. This has been proved by causing persons to write
on a sheet of paper lying on the top of other sheets. After he has
been allowed to write a few sentences, the sheet was carefully with-
drawn and he continued his writing on the next sheet, beginning
on the new sheet at the corresponding point where he left off on
the first one. Moreover, the somnambulist, by force of habit, stroked
t's and dotted i's at the exact places where the t's and i's would
have been had he written continuously on one sheet, showing that
wh.at he was conscious of was not what was before him but the
mental picture of what he had done.
The following table, modified from two such tables given by Ball
and Chambard in their exhaustive article " Somnambulisme " in
the Didionnaire Encylopedique des Sciences Medicales, shows the
relation of the various intermediate conditions of "sleeping and
awaking and of the dreaming and somnambulistic . states. The
horizontal stroke indicates the presence of the condition the name
of which heads the column : —
Organic
Life.
Conscious-
ness.
Imagin-
ative
Faculties.
Co-ordi-
nating
Faculties.
Power of
Movement
and Sen-
sibility.
Normal waking state . ,
Sleep, 1st degree
„ 2d degree
„ 3d degree
Waking.lst degree
„ 2d degree (speci-
ally dreaming
state)
„ 3d degree
Complete walung
Dreaming state
Ordinary somnambulism
Profound somnambulism
(perfect unconscious-
ness)
Somnambulistic dream
(movements in a dream)
The somnambulist acts his dream. His condition is that of a
vivid dream in which the cerebrum is so active as to influence
centres usually concerned in voluntary movements. Under the
dominant idea he executes the movements that this idea would
naturally excite in the waking state. Many of his movements are
in a sense purposive ; his eyes may be shut so that the movements
arc executed in the dark, or the eyes may be open so that there is
a picture oh the retina that may awaken no consciousness, and yet
may, by reflex mechanisms, be the starting-point of definite and
deliberate movements. * In many cases he does not hear, the audi-
tory centres not responding ; but in others suggestive words may
alter the current of his dream and lead him to perform other
actions than what he iuteuded to do. On awaking there is either
no memory of what has taken phice • or the dim recollection of a
fading dream.
It is important to notice that there is scarcely any action of
which a somnambulist may not be capable, and immoral acts from
which tlie individual would shrink in waking hours may be per-
formed with indifl'erence. Considering the abrogation of self-con-
trol peculiar to the physiological condition, it is evident that no
moral responsibility can be attached to such actions. In cases
where somnambulistic propensities place a person in danger, an
endeavour should be made to induce liim to return to bed with-
out awaking him ; as a rude awakening mey produce a serious
shock to the nervous system. Inquiry should then be made into
the exciting cause of the somnambulistic dream, such as a particular
train of thought, over-excitement, the reading of special books, the
recollection of an accident or of a crisis in the person's history,
with the view of removing the cause if possible. It should never
be forgotten that somnambulism, like chorea, hysteria, and epilepsy,
is the expression of a general mdrbid predisposition, an indication
of a nervous diathesis, requiring careful treatment so as to avoid
more dangerous maladies.
See article "Somiiieil"'inthe DictiunnaiTeEncydopictifiutdesScie-ncesMidicala,
where a full bibliography is given aud where also there is an account of the
iue(lico-leg.^l questions counected w-ith sleep and somnambulism ; Macnish,
rhysiology of Sleep ; Durham, "On the Physiology of Sleep," in Gay's HospiUil
Reports, ISGO ; Kohlschutter, " Die Mekanik des Schlales," in 2. / ration.
Med., vol. xxxiii., 18G9 ; Pfluger, "Theoiie des Schlafes,"in PJliifjer's Archiv, vol.
A., 1S75 ; llosso, Uebcr den Kreislauf des Blules im menschliehen Hehirn, Leipsic,
1881. As to somnambulism, see the article on the subject in the Dirtion}U2iTe
both for full details and a copious bibliography, (J. G. M.)
SLEIDANUS, John (c. 1.506-1556), the annalist of the
Reformation, Tvas born at Schleiden (now a small village in
the Oleffthal, about 42 miles s^uth-west of Cologne) in 1506
or 1508. Passing from the village school, he studied at
Li^ge, Cologne (?), Louvain (where he became tutor to
the son of Count Manderscheid of Schleiden), Paris,
and Orleans (where he studied law). In 1536 he became
secretaiy to Cardinal du Bellay, minister of Francis I., and
spent five years with him and with his brother Cardinal
Guillaume du Bellay. The cardinals Du Bellay belonged
to that party among the French nobility who desired on
political grounds an alliance betwen the German Protestants
and .Francis against the emperor Charles V., and who
employed the leaders of the Strasburg citizens as inter-
mediaries. Sleidanus, whilst among the humanists of
Lidge, had adopted Protestant opinions, had learned to dis-
trust the Romanist policy of Charles V., and was himself a
strong supporter on religious and political grounds of the
plans of the brothers Du Bellay. Their confidence in him
was such that he was sent (15-40) to watch the conduct of
the French ambassador at Hagenau, and this brought him
into personal relation with the German Protestant leaders.
Next year Du Bellay sent him to confer with the heads of
the Schmalkaldic League, when he found his patron's ideas
unacceptable, Philip of Hesse and the elector of Saxony
would make no alliance with a foreign power against the
emperor, and distrusted Francis personally because of his
persecution of French Protestants. It is possible that this
news ma.de Du Bellay feel that he had no farther need for
his secretary, for we find Sleidanus leading a wandering
life for two years, and finally making Strasburg his home,
although he still kept up a political correspondence with
France. Sleidanus had been accustomed to copy all docu-
ments bearing upon the Reformation to which he had
access, and Bucer, who had seen his collection, proposed to
Philip of Hesse to appoint him historian of the Reformation,
giving him a salary- and access to all necessary documents.
After some delay the heads of the Schmalkaldic League
agreed to Bucer's proposal, and Sleidanus began his great
work and finished the first volume in 1545. In that year
he was again recalled to diplomacy and went to England
in a French embassy to Henry VIII. While there he dili-
gently collected materials for his history. On his return
to Strasburg he was sent by that city as one of its repre-
sentatives to the diets of Frankfort and Worms ; and thence
he proceeded to Marburg to explore the archives of Philip
of Hesse. The Schmalkald War interfered with this work
and also prevented the payment of Sleidanus, who in his
difficulties applied to England for aid, and at Cranmer's
intercession received a yearly pension (not long continaed)
from Edward VI. In 1551 Sleidanus went to the council
of Trent as representative from Strasburg, charged also
with full powers to act for the imperial cities Esslingen,
Ravensburg, Reutlingen, Biberach, and Lindau. On his
return his friends got him appointed professor of law in
Strasburg, and he was once more able to give his whole
attention lo his great work, which he finished for the, press
S L I — S L I
159
in 1554. But want of money, the death of his wife—
whom he had married in 1546 on his return from the diet
of Frankfort— and other misfortunes compelled him to
delay printing. The book at length appeared,— Commeji-
tariorum de statu religionis et reipublicse, Carolo V. Cxsare,
Libri XXVI. (translated into English by John Daws m
1560 and by G. Bohum in 1689). But the troubles of
Sleidanus were not ended. The work was too impartial
to please any one, and even the gentle Melanchthou was
imable to praise it It remains notwithstanding the most
valuable contemporarj' history of the times of the Refor-
mation, and contains the largest collection of importf"^
documents. The author died at Strasburg in October 155b
Ln poverty, and inconsolable since the death of his wife.
See H. Baumgarten, Ueber Slcidamts Leben und Briefwcchsel
(1878), and SUidans Bric/wechsel (1881).
SLIGO, a maritime county in the north-west of Ireland,
in the province of Connaught, is situated between 53° 54
and 54° 28' N. lat. and between 8° 10' and 9° 10' W. lo^g.,
and is bounded N. by the Atlantic, E. by Leitrim S.E.
by Eoscommon, and S. and W. by Mayo. The total area
is 451,129 acres, or nearly 705 square miles. Its greatest
iencrth from north to south, between Mullaghmore Head
and Lough Gara, is 38 mUes and its greatest breadth from
east to west is 41.
The coast-line is very irregular and in some places rises
into grand escarpments and terraces. The principal inlets
are Killala B8.y and Siigo Bay, the latter subdivided into
Brown Bay, Drumcliffe Bay, and Ballysadare Bay. IN ear
the coast are the islets of Inishmurray, Coney, and Oyster.
Though Sligo cannot be compared for scenery with the
western parts of Mayo, it is in many places charmingly
picturesque, being weU wooded and possessing several fane
lakes and rivers, as well as some ranges of hiUs wnich
from their situation and grouping have a very striking
effect In the north are the limestone elevations of Beii-
bulbin (1722 feet) and Knocknarea (1078), contrasting
finely with the adjacent rugged gneiss mountains, among
wYA are King's irountain (1965 feet) and Gullogherboy
(1430) In the west are the ranges of the Slieve Gamph
and Ox Mountains, 1300 and 1600 feet respectively. The
Curlew Mountains (nearly 900 feet high) separate Sligo
from Koscommon. The principal rivers are the Moy, form-
ing for a part of its course the boundary with Mayo, and
flowing south-westwards and then northwards into Killala
Bay ■ the Easky, flowing northwards from Lough Easky ;
the Ballysadare, with its branches the Owenmore, Owen"beg,
and. Arrow or Unshin ; and the Garvogue, flowing from
Lough GiU. Except the finely situated Lough Gill (3130
acres) extending ii-to Leitrim, Lough Arrow (3010), and
Lough Gara (3683), none of the lakes have so large an
area as 400 acres.-
The Carboniferous Momitarn Xnnegtone forms the basis of a great
part of the county, and includea the Lower Limestone calp or black
shale series and the Upper Limestone, which rbes occasionally into
a lofty tableland. There is a small tract of Yellow Limestone lu
the extreme north, as also on the north and north-east of Lougli
Gara, whence it extends into Mayo. The Old Red Sandstone appears
in two masses near Lough Arrow. A small tract of granuo enters
the county on the south-west, coming from between Lougli tonu
and Joxford in Mayo, Riving place to a broad belt of trai. porphyry
bounded by a narrow fnnge of Old Red Sandstone, which stretches
in a north-easterly direction along the line of the Ox Mountains
to Fallysadare Bay. Iron is abundant, especially in the neighbour-
hood of the Ox Mountains, but from want of fuel is not worked.
Pure copper is found in the beds of some of the rivers, and sulphate
of copper and iron pyrites occur in some places. , . ^, , .
^./ricKitare.— Tliero is considerable variety both m the character
of the soil and in the agricultural advancement in different parts
of the county. In some parts it is a light sandy loam resting on a
freestone bottom, and in the lower districts a rich and deep mould
prevails resting on a substratum of Umcstono Owing to the
moistness of the climate cattle feeding is found to bo Hie most
remunerative method of farming. Out of a total of 461.129 acres
231 753 or 51-3 per cent, in 1881 were under grass, 86,365 undei
crops 38 431 bog and marsh, 70,599 barren mountain land, 7577
woods and plantations, and 417 fallow, the remaining 15,987 acres
bein" under water, roads, fences, &c. The total numb.'r of hold-
inc3°was 15,352, there being 752 under 1 acre, 1443 between 1 and
6 Teres each in extent, 5334 between 5 and 15, 4592 between 15 and
30 1520 between 30 and 60, and 1211 of 100 acres and upwards.
Tlie total area under corn crops in 1884 was 24,324 acres, while in
1875 it was 30,810; under green crops 25,897, in 1875 30,491 ;
under meadow and clover 36,120, in 1875 32,396 ; and under flax
24 in 1875 175,— the total area under tillage having decreased
between 1875 and 1884 from 93,872 to 86,365 acres. Of the coin
crops in 1884 oats occupied 23,055 acres, and green crops and potatoes
19 835 The number of horses between 1875 and 1884 increased
from 7244 to 8292, of asses from 7588 to 8471 ; cattle decreased from
97 658 to 89,458, sheep from 65,857 to 64,324 ; pigs, again, increased
from 19,726 to 26,996, goats from 3081 to 4745, and poultry from
277,113' to 305,509. According to the landowners return Sligo
was divided among 856 proprietors, possessing 448,397 acres at an
annual value of £210,382, or about 9s. i\A. per acre. The pnncipal
proprietors were Colonel E. H, Cooper, 34,120 acres ; Sir Robert
Gore Booth, 31,774 ; Charles W. O'Hara, 21,070 ; W. R. 0. Gore,
21019- Owen Wynne, 12,982; Colonel King-Harman, 12,629;
Hon. Evelyn Ashley, 12,426 ; and "William Phibbs, 10,507.
Manufactures and other Industries. —Coa^rse woollens and linens
are manufactured for home consumption, and there are tanneries,
distiUeries, and breweries in the principal towns. A considerable
general trade is carried on at the ports of Ballina (on the Moy) and
Sli-'O. The fisheries on the coast are valuable, and there are im-
portant salmon fisheries at the mouths of the rivers.
Administration and Population.— The county is divided into 6
baronies, and contains 37 parishes and 4 parts of parishes, arid 1292
townlands. The county has three poor-law unions— Dromore W est,
Sli^o and Tobercurry— with parts of the unions of Balhna and
Boyle (Roscommon). It is in the Connaught circuit, and, assizes
are held at SUgo and quarter sessions at Ballymote, Easky, and
Sligo. It is in the Dublin military district, and there are barracks
at Sligo. For parliamentary representation the county has since
1885 formed two divisions (North and South), each returnirg a
member. Between 1841 and 1851 the population decreased from
180 886 to 128,515 or 29 per cent, and by 1881 it had decreased
to 111,578 (55,144 males, 56,434 females), or 38-3 per cent since
1841 In 1881 the number of persons who could read and write,
was 52,602, who could read only 15,574, who could neither read nor
OTite 43 402. There were 2326 who could speak Irish only, while
24,263 could speak Irish and English. There were 10 superior
schools with 266 pupils, a' whom 142 were Catholics and 124 Vvo-
testants, and 211 priraaiy schools with 13,714 pupils, of whom
12,070 were CathoUcs and 1644 Protestants. The principal towns are
Sligo (population 10,808 in 1881), Ballina (1442 m Sligo and 4318
in Mayo), Ballymote (1145), and Tobercurry (1081).
Histor7i and Antiquities.— \n the time of Ptolemy the district
was inhabited by the Nagnatm., the capital Nagv.ata being some-
where near the site of the present town of Sligo. Afterwards it
wnere near tiie si.c «ji tuv p.^.^^..... v.^.... — -...p-. -----
was possessed by a branch of the O'Connors, called 0 Connor bligo.
On the landing of Henry II. it gradually feU into the power of the
De Burgos. The district formed part of Connaught, which, in the
reign of Elizabeth, was divided into seven counties. On the lands
of Carrowmore, between Sligo and Ballysadare, there is a remark-
able collection of Druidical remains, consisting of cairns, a circle,
cromlechs, and pillar stones. At DrumclilTe is .the only round
tower nowremaining m the county, and a beautiful Celtic cross
13 feet in height. The principal monastic rums ai-e the abbey 01
St Fechan at Ballysadare, vith an ancient church displaymg some
curious architecture of the 11th or 12th century ; the remarkable
group of buildings on Inishmurray ; and the abbey of Sligo, noticed
under the town below. There are a considerable number of old
castles, but none of special interest.
SLIGO, the chief town of the above county and an
important seaport, is finely situated at the mouth of the
Garvogue, near Lough Gill, 137 miles north-west of Dublin
by rail. The town is rather irregularly built and has a
decayed appearance, which somewhat belies its actual pros-
perity. Formerly it was fortified by a castle and walls,
but of these there are now no remains. The abbey,
founded in 1252 by Maurice Fitzgerald, Idrd-justico, is one
of the finest monastic ruins iu Ireland. It was partly
destroyed by fire in 1414 and again in 1642. Within
recent years measures have been taken to preserve it.
Three sides of the cloister of the quadrangle still remain,
and the lofty quadrangular tower at the junction of the
nave and chancel is entire. The eastern window, BtiU
very perfect, is of the date of the original structure. I ho
16
n
S L I — S L O
principal modern buildings are the new Catholic cathedral,
in the Norman style with' a finely sculptured doorway,
the town-hall (1865-66), the '•ounty court-house, the cus-
tom-house, the lunatic asylum, and the barracks. The
quays are commodious, and steamers ply to and fro be-
tween Slfgo and Glasgow, Liverpool, and Londonderry, —
the principal exports being cattle, fowls, eggs, and butter,
and the imports coal, iron, timber, and provisions. The
port is under the control of harbour commissioners. There
is aTi important butter-market, and maize, flour, and corn
mills. The population in 1861 was 10,693, and in 1881
it was 10,808.
4i castle was built at Sligo by Maurice Fitzgerald in 12'I2, which
in 1270 was taken and destioyed by O'Donnell ; in 1310 it was
rebuilt by Richaid, earl of Ulster, and was again partly destroyed
in 1369 and 1394. Early in the reign of James I. the town
received a market and two annual fairs ; in 1613 it was incorporated
and received the privileges of a borough ; and in 1621 it received
a charter of the sfeiple. In 16-11 it was besieged by the Parliament-
ary forces under Sir Charles Coote, but was afterwards evacuated,
and occupied by the Royalists till the termination of tht war. In
168S it declared in favour of James II., and, after being captured
by the Knniskilleners, was retaken by General Sarsfield, but ulti-
mately surrendered to the earl of Granard. The borough was dis-
franchised in 1870.
SLIVEN, Slh'no, Selimnia, Islemniye, or Islimte,
an important town of East Roumelia, situated at the
southern base of the Balkans, 750 feet above the sea,
where several mountain streams flow south to the Tunja,
a tributary of the Maritza. The luxuriant foliage of its
trees and the general picturesqueness of its appearance
gain in effect by the contrast which they present with the
bare gneiss and porphyry summits that rise immediately
to the north. On the south it is surrounded by orchards,
^rdens, and extensive mulberry plantations. Besides a
large number of mosques, the public buildings comprise a
synag9gue and four Christian churches ; but there is
nothing of much architectural interest in the town. A
Government factory for the manufacture of military cloth-
ing was established in 1834 ; there is a good silk industry;
ind Sliven red wine is famous. The population (Turks,
Bulgarians, Armenians, Greeks, Jews, and Gipsies) was
22,000 in 1872.
Sliven, the Stlifanos of the Byzantine writers, owes a good deal of
its importance to its strategical position on one of the trans- Balkan
highways to Adrianople and the south. In early times, when it
was a subject of dispute between Byzantium and Bulgaria, it
generally followed the fate of Aidos and lle.sembria (Jlisivri).
After its capture by the Turks (1388) it was one of the " voinik "
towns which remained e.^empt from taxes and were allowed to elect
their own voivode ; but those privileges were lost in the 16th cen-
tury. On 12th August 1829 Sliven was occupied by the Russian
army under Rlidiger and Gortchakoff.
SLOANE, Sir Hajjs (1660-1753), a celebrated collector
and successful physician, was born on 16th April 1660 at
Killileagh in county Down, Ireland, where his father had
settled at the head of a Scotch colony sent over by James
I. He had as a )'outh a strong turn for collecting objects
of natural history and other curiosities. This led him to
the study of medicine, which he went to London to pursue,
directing his attention assiduously to botany, materia
medica, and pharmacy. His collecting propensities made
him useful to the more philosophically minded Ray and
Boyle, and procured him their patronage. After four
years in London he travelled through France, spending
some time at Paris and Montpellier, and taking his M.D.
degree at the university of Orange. He returned to
London with a considerable collection of plants and other
curiosities, of which the former were sent to Ray and uti-
lized by him for his History of Plants. Sloaile was quickly
elected into the Royal Society, and at the same time he
had the good fortune to attract the notice of Sydenham,
who took a fancy to him and gave him valuable introduc-
tions to practice. In 1687 he became fellow of the College
of Physicians, and took the opportunity of proceeding tt
Jamaica the same year as physician in the suite of thi
duke of Albemarle. The duke died soon after landing,
and Sloane's visit lasted only fifteen months ; but during
that time he got together about 800 new species of plants,
the island being at the time virgin ground to the botanist.
Of these he publi-shed an elaborate catalogue in Latin]
and at a later date (1707-25) he made the experiences
of his visit the subject of two sumptuous folio volumes.
His merits as a collector were suiEcient to give him a high
place in the scientific circles of the time. He became secre-
tary to the Royal Society in 1693, and edited its Trans-
actions for twenty years. His practice as a physician
among the upper classes was large and lucrative ; he is
said to have inspired the members of the court and aristo-
cracy with the "greatest confidence in his prescriptions.''
In the pamphlets written concerning Dr Cockburn's sale
of a secret remedy for dysentery and other fluxes, it was
stated for the defence that Sloane himself did not disdain
the same kind of professional conduct ; and there is some
colour given to that charge by the fact that his only medi-
cal piece, an Accotint of a Medicine for Soreness, Weakne,':s,
and other Distempers of the Eyes (London, 1745) was no!
given to the world until its author was in his eighty-fifth
year, and had retired from practice.
On the accession of George I. Sloane was made physiciati-
general to the army, and in 1716 was created a baromt,
being the first medical practitioner to receive an hereditary
title. In 1749 he became president of the College of Phy-
sicians, and held the oflice si.xteen years. In 1727 he suc-
ceeded Sir Lsaac Newton in the presidential chair of the
Royal Society ; he retired from it at the age of eighty,
" much against the inclination of that respectable body,
who chose Mart m Folkes to succeed him, and in a public
assembly thanked him for the great and eminent services
which he had rendered them." Sloane's memory survives
more by his judicious investments than Ly anything that he
contributed to the subject-matter of natural science or even
of his own profession ; his name is absolutely unknown in
the history of medicine, and his services to botany were
such as, in the nature of things, would be soon forgotten.
But his purchase of the manor of -Chebea has perpetuated
his memory in the name of a "place," a street, and a square
His great stroke as a collector was to acquire (by bequest,
conditional on paying oS" certain debts) in 1701 the cabinet
of William Courten, who had made collecting the business
of his life. When Sloane retired from active work in 1741
his library and cabinet of curiosities, which he took with
him from Bloonubury to his house in Chelsea, had grown
to be very extensive and of unique value. On his death
on 11th January 1753 he bequeathed his books, manu-
scripts, prints, drawings, pictures, medals, coins, seals,
cameos, and other curiosities to the nation, on condition
that parliament should pay to his executors £20,000, which
was a good deal less than the value of the collection. The
bequest was accepted on those terms by an Act passed the
same year, and the collection, together with George II.'s
royal library, itc, was opened to the public at Bloomsbury
as the British Museum in 1759. Among his other acts of
benevolence or munificence may be mentioned his gift to
the Apothecaries' Company of the freehold of the botanical
-or physic garden, which they had rented from the Chelsea
estate since 1673, also his help in starting the foundling
hospital. Sloane is described as having been a man of con-
siderable presence and of courtly address.
See Weld, Eistory of the r.oijal Society, i. 450 (London, lS48)j
and Munk, Soil of the College of Physicians, 2d ed., i 466 (Lo»
don, 1S78).
SLODTZ, Rene Michel or Michel Akge (1715-1764X
French sculptor, was born at Paris on 29th Seotembe
S L 0 — S L O
IGl
1715. He passed seventeen years of liis life at Rome,
where he was chosen to execute a statue of St Bruno, one
of the best modern works of the class in St Peter's. He
was also the sculptor of the tomb of Marquis Capponi in
St John of the Florentines. Other works of His are to
be seen at the church of St Louis of France and at Santa
Maria della Scala. After his return to France, Slodtz, in
conjunction with his brothers Sebastian and Paul, produced
many decorative works in the churches of Paris, and,
though much has been 'destroyed, his most considerable
achievement — the tomb of Languet de Gergy in St Sul-
pi6e — exists at the present day. He died at Paris on 26th
October 1764.
Slodtz had been, like his brothers, a member of the Academy of
Painting and Sculpture, and many particulars- of his lifi" are pre-
served in a memoir written by Cochin, and jlso in a letter from the
same to the Gazette LitKraire, which was reproduced by Castilhon
in the Neerologe of 1766. Slodtz's father (1655-1726) was also a
sculptor, born at Antwerp ; he became a pupil of Girardon and
worked mostly under him at Versailles and the Tuileries.
See C. N. Coc)iin, .Vm. inid., Paris, 1881 ; Barbet de Jouy, Scul-j^ture Inoderne
du Louv €, Paris, 1856 ; Dussicux, ArtisUs Franqaii d Vttrangcr, Paris, 1862.
StONIM, a district town of Rttssia, in the government
of Grodno, 10.5 miles .south-east of Grodno and 20 from
the railway from Moscow to Warsaw, on tbe high craggy
banks of the Schara. It derives its importance from this
river, which is navigable and enters the system of the
Oginski Canal connecting the Niemen with the Dnieper.
Corn, tar, and especially timber are exported annually to a
large amount, which in 1882 reached the value of £20,700.
The population was 21,110 in 1883.
Stonim is a very old town, being mentioned in 1040, when
Yaroblaff defeated the Lithuanians in its neighbourhood and com-
pelled them to acknowledge his rule. In 1241 the Mongols, under
Batyi, pillaged it and burned its wooden fort. Owing to its position
between Galician Russia and Lithuania, it often changed hands
until it was co»quered by the Lithuanians in the 14th century.
From 1631 to 1CS5 it was the seat of the Lithuanian scim and
became a flourishing city. In the 18th century, under the hetman
Oginskf, a canal was dug to connect the Schara with the Dnieper.
Oginski embellished the city and founded there a printing-office.
Russia annexed the town in 1795.
SLOTH. The general characters by which the family
Bradypodidx are distinguished from the rest of the order
Edentata have, been given in the article Mammax'ia (vol.
XV. p. 384). The sloths, as the animals of this family are
called on account of the habitual sluggishness of their
Two- toed sloth {Vholccpus hoffmanni).
movements, are the moat strictly arboreal of all mammals,
living entirely among the branches of trees, usually hang-
ing under them, with their bnrks do« Dwnrd.i. and clinging
to them with the simple hook-liko organs to which the
terminations of all their limbs are reduced. When they
are obliged from any cau.se to descend to the ground, which
they rarely, if ever, do voluntarily, their limbs, owing tc
their unequal length and the peculiar conformation of the
feet — which allows the animals to rest only on the outer
edge — are most inefficient for terrestrial progression, and
the sloths crawl along a level surface with considerable
difficulty. Though generally slow and inactive, even when
in their natural haunts, they can on occasions travel with
considerable rapidity along the branches, and, as they do
not leap, like most other arboreal creatures, they avail
themselves of the swaying of the boughs by the wind to
pass from tree to tree. They feed entirely on leaves and
young shoots and fruits, which they gather in their mouth,
the fore-limbs aiding in dragging boughs within reach, but
not being used as hands, as they are by monkeys, squirrels,
<tc. \ATien sleeping they roll themselves up in a ball,
and, owing to the dry shaggy character of their hair, are
very inconspicuous among the mosses and lichens with
which the trees of their native forests abound ; and the
concealment thus afforded is heightened in some species
by the peculiar greenish tint of the outer covering, — very
uncommon in mammals. This is not due to the colour of
the hair itself, but to the presence upon its surface of an
alga, the lodgement of which is facilitated by the fluted or
rough surface of the exterior of the hair, and the growth
of which is promoted oy the dampness of the atmosphere
in the gloomy tropical forests, as it soon disappears from
the hair of animals kept in captivity in England. Sloths
are nocturnal, silent, inoffensive, and solitary animals, and
produce usually but one young at birth. They appear
to show an almost reptilian tenacity of life, surviving the
most severe injuries and large doses of poisons, and ex-
hibiting longer persistence of irritability of muscular tissue
after death than other mammals.
The sloths were all included in the Linnean genus Bradypus, but
Illigcr very properly separated- the species with but two cla«s o;i
the fore-feet, under the name of Choloemis, leaving Bradyj/us for
those with three.
Genus Bradypxis. — Three-toed sloths. Teeth usually J on each
side; no tooth projecting greatly beyond the others; the first in
the upper jaw much soiailer than any of the others ; the first in
the lower jaw broad and compressed ; the grinding surfaces of all
much cupped. . Vertebra;: C 9, D and L 20 (of which 15 to 17
bear ribs), S 6, C 11. All the known species present the remark-
able peculiarity of possessing nine cervical vertebra;, i.e., nine
vertebra; in front of the one which bears the first thoracic rib (or
first ri)) -connected with the sternum, and corresponding in its
general relations with the first rib of other mammals) ; but the
ninth, and sometimes the eighth, bears a pair of short movable
ribs. The arms or fore-limbs are considerably longer than the hind
legs. The bones of the fore-arm are complete, free, and capable of
pronation and sui)ination. The hand is long, very narrow, habit-
ually curved, and terminates in three pointed curved claws, in
close apposition with each other ; they are, in fact, inca[)ablc of
being divaricated, so that tlie hand is reduced to the condition of a
triple hook, fit only for the function of suspension from the boughs
of trees. The foot closely resembles the hand in its general struc-
ture and mode of use. The sole is habitually turned inwards and
cannot be applied to the ground in walking. The tongue is short
and soft, and the stomach large and complex, bearing some resem-
blance to that of the ruminating animals. The windpipe or trachea
has the reniarkablo peculiarity among mamnials-i-not unfie(|uent
among birds and reptiles— of being folded on itself before it reaches
the lun^s. The mamma; are two and jiectoral in position.
"Ai' is the common name given in books to the thrcc-focj
sloths. They were all comprised by Linii;rus under the species
Bnutypus tiidactylus. Jlore recently Dr Gray has described as
many as eleven, ranged in two genera, Brady/ius and Arclopithccus \
but the distinctions which he assigns both to speciis and to genera
do not bear close examination. Some are covered uniformly with a
grey or greyish brown coat ; others have a dark collor of elongated
hairs around the shoulders {H. torqualus) \ some have tlio hair of
the face very much shorter than that of the rest of the head and
neck ; and others have a remarkable-look itig patch of .soft short hair
on the b'ck between the shoulders, consisting when best inarkcd
of a median atripe of glossy, black, bordered on each bide by brigh'
162
S I 0 — fo M A
orange, yellow, or white. There are also structural differences iu
the skuUs, as in the amount of inflation of the pterygoid bones,
which indicate real differences of species ; but the materials in our
museums are not yet sufficient to correlate these with external
characters and geogi'aphical distribution. The habits of all are
apparently alike. They are natives of Gaiana. Brazil, and Peru,
and one if not two species {B. in/uscatus and £. castanciccps)
extend north of the Isthmus of Panama as far as Nicaragua. Of
the former of these Dr Seeman says that, though generally sUent,
z. specimen in captivity uttered a shrill sound like a monkey when
forcibly pulled away from the tree to which it was holding.'
Genus Cholcepiis. —Teeth | ; the most anterior in both jaws
separated by an interval from the others, very large, canmiform,
wearing to a sharp, bevelled edge agaiust the opposing tooth, the
upper shuttitig in front of the lower when the mouth is closed,
unlike the true canines of heterodont mammals. Vertebrse : C 6
or 7, D 23-24, L 3, S 7-8, C 4-6. One species (C. didadylus) has
the ordinary number of vertebrae in the neck ; but an otherwise
closely allied form (C. hoffmanni) has but six. The tail is very
rudimentary. The hand generally resembles that of Bradypus ; but
there are only two functional digits, with claws, — those answering to
the second and third of the typical pentadactyle manus. The
structure of the hind limb generally resembles that of Brcuhjpus,
tlie appellation "two-toed" refe-ring only to the anterior limb,
for in the foot the three middle toes are functionally developed and
of nearly equal size. C didadylus, which has been longest Icnown,
is commonly called by the native name of Unau. It inhabits the
forests of BrazU. C. hoffmanni has a more northern geographical
range, extending from Ecuador through Panama to Costa Kica.
Its voice, which is seldom heard, is like the bleat of a sheep, and
if the animal is seized it snorts violently. Both species are very
variable in external coloration. (W. H. F.)
SLOUGH, an urban sanitary district of Buckingham-
sUre, England, is situated on the Great Western Railway,
18| miles west of London and 2 north of Windsor.
Within recent years it has largely increased, and it con-
tains a number of good shops and villas. It is supplied
with water from artesian wells. ^ The parish chujch of St
Mary, erected 1837, has been recently enlarged. Among
other public buildings are the British orphan asylum, the
Eton union workhouse, and the reading-room and literary
institute. Sir William Herschel, the astronomer, resided
at Slough, and there constructed his telescope. The
population of the urban sanitary district, which embraces
parts of the parishes of Stoke Poges and Upton-cum-Chal-
vey, in 1871 was 4509 and in 1881 (area, 401 acres) it
was 5095.
SLOVAKS. See Slavs.
SLOVENES. See Slats.
SLUG. See Snail.
SLUTSK, a district town of 'Russia, in the government
of Minsk, situated on the Stutcha river (tributary of the
Pripet), 123 miles south of Minsk. Tliis old town is men-
tioned in the 12th century as a dependency of Kieft", and,
like other towns of the region, was devastated by the Tatars,
and later suffered in the wars between Prussia and Poland.
It is now merely a large village, whose inhabitants are
chiefly engaged in agriculture, with a little trade in corn,
timber, and wooden wares. The immense marshy and
woody tracts of the Polyesie (see Minsk) surround it on
all sides, the Stutcha being its chief means of communica-
tion. Its population Remains almost stationary and was
19,000 in 1883.
SMALLPOX, or Variola {varus, " a pimple "), an acute
infectious disease characteri2ed by fever and by the appear-
ance on the surface of the body of an eruption, which, after
passing through various stages, dries up, leaving more or
less distinct cicatrices. Few diseases have been so destruc-
tive to human life as smallpox, and it has ever been re-
garded with horror alike from its fatality, its loathsome
accompaniments and disfiguring efifects, and from the fact
that no age and condition of life are exempt from liability
to its occurrence.' Although in most civilized countries
its ravages have been greatly limited by the protection
afforded by vaccination, yet epidemic outbreaks are far
* Godman and Salvin's Liologia CentrcUi-Americana, p. 184.
from uncommon, aflfecting especially those wno are na
protected, or whose protection has become weakened by
lapse of time.
Much obscurity surrounds tne early 'history of smallpox.
It appears to have been imported into Europe from Asia,
where it had been known and recognized from remote
antiquity. The earliest accounts of its existence reach
back to the middle and end of the 6th century, when it
was described by Procopius and Gregory of Tours as occur-
ring in epidemic form in Arabia, Egypt, and the south of
Europe. In one of the narratives of the expedition of the
Abyssinians against Mecca (c. 550) the usual miraculous
details are combined with a notice of smallpox breaking
out among the invaders.^ Not a few authorities, however,
regard these accounts as referring not to smallpox but to
plague. The most reliable statements as to the early exist-
ence of the disease are found in Rhazes (see vol. xv. p.
805), by whom its symptoms were clearly described, its*
pathology explained by a humoral or fermentation theory,
and directions given for its treatment. During the period
of the crusades smallpox appears to have .spread exten-
sively through Europe, and hospitals for its treatment were
erected in many countries. But at this period and for
centuries afterwards the references to the subject include
in all likelihood other diseases,, since no precise distinction
appears to have been made between the diflferent forms of
eruptive fever until a comparatively recent date. Small
pox was known in England as early as the 13th century,
and had probably existed there before. It appears to have
been introduced into America shortly after the discovery
of that continent, and there, as in Europe and throughout
the known world, destructive epidemics were of frequent
occurrence during succeeding centiiries.
The only known factor in the origin oi smallpox ia con- coo
tagion, — this malady being probably the most contagious of 'agio*,
all diseases. Its outbreak in epidemic form in a locality
may frequently be traced to the introduction of a single
case from a distance. The most direct • means of com-
municating smallpox is inoculation (see below). By far
the most common cause of conveyance of the disease,
however, is contact with the persons or the immediate
surroundings of those already affected. The atmosphere
around a smallpox patient is charged with the products
of the disease, which likewise cling tenaciously to clothing,
furniture, &c. The disease is probably communicable from
its earliest manifestations oiiwards to its close, but it is
generally held that the most infectious period extends from
the appearance of the eruption till the drying up of the
pustules. Smallpox may also readily be communicaited
by the bodies of those who have died from its effects.
No age is exempt from susceptibility to smallpox. In-
fants are occasionally born with the eruption or its marks
upon their bodies, proving that they had undergone the
disease in utero. Dark-skinned races are said to suffer
more readily and severely than whites. One attack of
smallpox as a rule confers immunity from any recurrence,
but there are numerous exceptions to this rule. Over-
crowding and all insanitary surroundings favour the spread
of smallpox where it has broken out ; but the most in-
fluential condition of all is the amount of protection
afforded to a community by previous attacks and, esjjeci-
ally in the present day, by vaccination. Such protection,
although for a time most effectual, tends to become ex-
hausted, unless renewed. Hence in a large population
there is always likely to be an increasing number of indi-
viduals who have become susceptible to smallpox. This
probably explains its occasional and even apparently
2 See NoWeke, Geschichte der Perser . . . aits Tabari (Leyden, 1879),
p. 218. NdldeV-e thinks that this notice may be taken from genuine
bistorical tradition, and seems to fipd an allusion to it in an old poem.
(SMALLPOX
ICS
periodic epidemic outbreaks in large centres, and the
well-known fact that the most severe cases occur at the
commencement, — those least protected' being necessarily
more liable to be first and most seriously attacked
While the symptoms of smallpox are essentially the
same in character in all cases, they are variously modified
according to the form which the disease maj' assume,
there being certain well-marked varieties of this as of
most other infectious maladies. The following descrip-
tion applies to an average case. After the reception into
the system of the smallpox contagion the onset of the
symptoms is preceded by a period of incubdtion, during
which the patient may or may not complain. This period
is believed to be from about ten to fourteen days. In cases
of direct inoculation of the virus it is considerably shorter.
The invasion of the symptoms is sudden and severe, in
the form of a rigor followed by fever {\h.(i primary fever),
in which the temperature rises to 103° or 104° Fahr. or
higher, notwithstanding that perspiration may be going on.
A quick pulse is present, together with thirst and con-
stipation, while intense headache accompanied with vomit-
ing and pain in the back is among the most characteristic
of the initial symptoms. Occasionally the disease is
ushered in by convulsions. Some authorities hold that
the more violent the invasion the more severe the attack
is likely to prove. These s)'mptcms continue with greater
or less intensity throughout two entire days, and during
their course there may occasionally be noticed on various
parts of the body, especially on the lower part of the
abdomen and inner sides of the thighs, a diffuse redness
accompanied by slight spots of extravasation {peiechise),
the appearance somewhat resembling that of scarlet fever.
These "prodromal rashes," as they are termed, appear to
be more frequent in some epidemics than in others, and
they do not seem to have any special significance. They
are probably more frequently seen in cases of the mildest
form of smallpox (varioloid),, referred to below. On the
third day the characteristic eruption begins to make its
appearance. It is almost always first seen on the face,
particularly about the forehead and roots of the hair, in
the form of a general redness ; but upon this surface
there may be felt by the finger numerous elevated points
more or less thickly set together. The eruption, which is
accompanied by heat and itching, spreads over the face,
trunk, and extremities in the course of a few hours, — con-
tinuing, however, to come out more abundantly for one or
two days. It is always most marked on the exposed parts ;
but in such a case as that now described the individual
" pocks " are separated from each other (discrete). On
tlie second or third day after its appearance the eruption
undergoes a change, — the pocks becoming vesicles filled
with a clear fluid. These vesicles attain to about the size
of a pea, and in their centre there is a slight depression,
giving the characteristic umbilicated appearance to the
pock. The clear contents of these vesicles gradually become
tiubid, and by the eighth or ninth day they are changed
into pustules containing yellow matter, while at the same
time they increase still further in size and lose the central
depression. Accompanying this change there are great
surrounding inflammation and swelling of the skin, which,
where the eruption is thickly set, produce much disfigure-
ment and render the features unrecognizable, while the
affected parts emit an offensive odour, particularly if, as
often hajipens, the pustules break. The eruption is ]>rcsent
not only on the skin but on mucous membranes, that of
the mouth and throat being affected at an early period ;
and the swelling produced here is not only a source of
{Treat discomfort but even of danger from the obstruction
thus occasioned in the upper portion of the air-passages.
The voice is hoarse and a copious flow of saliva comes from
the mouth. The mucous membrane of the nostrils is simi-
larly affected, while that of the eyes may also be involved,
to the danger of permanent impairment of sight. The
febrile symptoms which ushered in the disease undergo
marked abatement on the appearance of the eruption on
the third day, but on the eighth or ninth, when the
vesicles become converted into pustules, there is a return
of the fever {secondary or svppvrative fever), often to a
severe extent, and not unfrequently accompanied by pro-
minent nervous phenomena, such as great restlessness,
delirium, or coma. On the eleventh or twelfth day the
pustules show signs of drying up (desiccation), and along
with this the febrile symptoms decline. Great itching
of the skin attends this stage. The scabs produced by
the dried pustules gradually fall off and a reddish brown
spot remains, which, according to the depth of skin in-
volved in the disease, leaves a permanent white depressed
scar, — this " pitting " so characteristic of smallpox being
specially marked on the face. Convalescence in this form
of the disease is as a rule uninterrupted.
There are certain varieties of smallpox depending upon
tne form it assumes or the intensity of the symptoms.
Conjhtent smalljwx (variola conjlv.ens), while essentially the
same in its general characters as the form already described,
differs from it in the much greater severity of all the
sjrmptoms even from the onset, and particularly in regard
to the eruption,- which, instead of showing itself in isolated
pocks, appears in large patches run together, giving a
blistered aspect to the affected skin. This confluent condi-
tion is almost entirely confined to the face, and produces
shocking disfigurement, while subsequently deep scars re-
main and the hair may be lost. The mucous membranes
suffer in a similar degree of severity, and dangerous com-
plications may arise from the presence of the disease in
the mouth, throat, and eyes. Both the primary and
secondary fevers are extremely severe. The mortality is
very high, and it is generally estimated that at least 50
per cent, of such cases prove fatal, either from the vio-
lence of the disease or from one or other of the numerous
complications which are specially apt to attend upon it.
Convalescence is apt to be slow and interrupted. Another
variety is that in which the eruption assumes the hxmor-
rhagic form owing to bleeding taking place into the pocks
after their formation. This is apt to be accompanied with
haemorrhages from various mucous surfaces (particularly in
the case of females), occasionally to a dangerou-s degree
and with symptoms of great prostration. JIany of such
cases prove fatal. A still more serious form is that termed
malignant smallpox, in which, as in the malignant forms
of other infectious diseases (see !Me.\sles and Scarlet
Fevek), the patient is from the onset overwhelmed with
the poison and quickly succumbs, — the rash scarcely, if at
all, appearing or showing the hajmorrhagic or purpuric
character. Such cases are, however, comparatively rare.
The term varioloid or modified smallpox is applied to
cases occurring in per.=;ons constitutionally but little sus-
ceptible to the disease, or in whom the protective influence
of vaccination or a previous attack of smallpox still to
some extent exists. Cases of this mild kind are of very
common occurrence where vaccination has been systematic-
ally carried out. As compared with an average case of
the unmodified disease as above described, this form is
very marked, thu differencea extending to all the phencniena
of the disease. (1) As regards its onset, the initial fever
is much milder and the premonitory sjTnptoms altogether
less in severity. . (2) As regards the eru])tion, the number
of pocks is smaller, often only a few and mostly upon the
body. They not unfrequently abort before reaching the
stage of suppuration ; but should they proceed to this
stage the secondary fever is extremely tiiight or even
164
S M A — S M A
absent. There is little or no pitting. (3) As regards com-
plications and injurious results, these are rarely seen and
the risk to life is insignificant.
Various circumstances affect the mortality in ordinary
smallpox .and increase the dangers attendant upon it.
The character of the epidemic has an important influence.
In some outbreaks the type of the disease is much more
severe than in others, and the mortality consequently
greater. Smallpox is most fatal at the extremes of life,
except in the case of vaccinated infants, in whom there is
immunity from the disease. Again, any ordinary case
with discrete eruption is serious, and a case of confluent
er even semi-confluent character is much morf grave, while
the hemorrhagic variety is frequently and the malignant
always fatal. Numerous and often dangerous complica-
tions, although liable to arise in all cases, are more apt to
occur in the severer forms, and in general at or after the
supen-ention of the secondary fever. The most important
are inflammatory affections of the respiratory organs, such
as bronchitis, pleurisy, or pneumonia, diphtheritic condi-
tions of the throat, and swelling of the mucous membrane
of the larynx and trachea. Destructive ulceration affect-
in" the eyes or ears are well-known and formidable dan-
gers, while various affections of the skin, in the form of
erysipelas, abscess, or carbuncles, are of nat infrequent
occurrence. Persons of enfeebled health, and those whose
constitutions are impaired by intemperance, readily suc-
cumb to attacks of smallpox, even of comparatively mild
character, as do also pregnant women, to whom this dis-
ease is peculiarly dangerous.
The most important of all the conditions tending to
affect the mortality from smallpox, ahke in the iuJi-idual
and the community, is the protection afforded by Vaccina-
tion (q.v.). During the first decade of life, if vaccination
has been fully and successfully accomplished in infancy,
the risk of death from smallpox is nil; but, should the
disease be caught — which is improbable ■ — it will in all
likelihood show itself in the mild form of varioloid. As
regards revaccination, it has been found in all smallpox
hospitals that the attendants and nurses escape the disease
when revaccinated. In the experience of the late Dr
Waller Lewis in the case of an average of 10,504 persons
permanently employed in the General Post Office, London,
all of whom had to be revaccinated on admission, it was
' proved that in the ten years 1870-79 not a single fatal
case of smallpox occurredj and only ten mild cases were
seen during a period embracing two epidemics.
Treatment. — The treatment of smallpox is conducted
uyon the same general principles as that for the other
infectious diseases (see Cholera, Diphtheria, ilEASLES,
ScAJRLET Fever). The establishment of smallpox hospitals
separated as far as possible from populous localities, and
the prompt removal of cases of the disease where practi-
cable, as well as the diligent prosecution of vaccination and
revaccmation, are among the first requirements. The plan
introduced into several large towns of compulsory notifica-
tion of infectious diseases has muv,h to recommend it. The
special treatment applicable to a person suffering from
smallpox includes in the first place the providing competent
nurses, who; together with all others in the neighbourhood
of the patient, should be duly protected by recent vaccina-
tion. The patient should lie on a soft bed in a well- venti-
lated but somewhat darkened room and be fed with the
lighter forms of nutriment, such as milk, soups, &c. The
skin should be sponged occasionally with tepid water, and
the mouth and throat washed with a solution of chlorate
of potash, Condy's fluid, or other safe disinfectant. lu a
severe case, with evidenca of much prostration, stimulants
may be advantageously employed. The patient should be
always carefully watched, and special vigilance is called
for where delirium exists. This symptom may sometimes
be lessened by sedatives, such a.<! opium, the bromides,
or chloral. With the view of preventing pitting -niany
applications have been proposed, but probably the best
are cold or tepid compresses of light weight kept constantly
applied over the face and eyes. The water- out of whict
these are wrung may be a weak solution of carbolic or
boracic acid. When the pustides have dried up the itching
this, produces may be much relieved by the application of
oil, or vaseline. Complications are to be dealt with as they
arise and the severer forms of the disease treated in refer-
ence to the special symptoms pieseu'^d. lu cases where
the eruption is tardy of appearing and the attack threatens
to assume the malignant form, the writer has seen marked
benefit attend the use of the wet pack. Disinfectants
should be <ibui.rlantly employed in the room and its vicinity, j
and all clothing, itc, in contact with the patient should be •
burnt.
Inoculation. — Previous to the introduction of vaccination
the method of preventive treatment by what was known
as inocuFation had been employed. This consisted in in-
troducing into the system — in a similar way to the method
now commonly employed in vaccination — the smallpox
virus from a mild case with the view of reproducing the
disease also in a mild form in the person inoculated, and
thus affording him protection from fuiCLcr attack. This
plan had apparently been resorted to by Eastern nations
from an early period in the history of the disease. It was
known to be extensively practised in Turkey in, the begin-
ning of the ISth century, when, chiefly through the letters
of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, it became known and was
speedily adopted in England. There is no doubt, both
from the statistics of the Smallpox and Inoculation Hospital,
London, and from the testimony of physicians throughout
the country, that this practice made a marked impression
upon the fatality of the disease, and was itself attended
with extremely little risk to life. The objections to it,
however, were great, for, although usually conveying the
smallpox in a mild form, it not unfrequently took effect
severely, and, while death might be averted, the disfiguring
results of the disease remained. Further, each inoculated
person upon whom the operation took effect became for
the time being a possible source of infection to others, and
in point ol lact the practice tended to «pr«ad the disease
and so to increa.-.e the general mortality. Although inocu-
lation continued to be practised for a number of years
subsequently to Jenncr's great discovery, it gradually be-
came displaced by that vastlj superior and safer preventive-
In I84O an Act of Parliament was passed rendering small-
pox inoculation unlawful in England. (j. o. A.)
SMART, Christopher (1722-1771), English poet, was
born at Shipbourne in Kent on 11th April 1722. The dis-
covery that Smart was an3rthing more than an unfortunate
Bohemian of letters who wrote much uninteresting verse
of secona-rate Iftth-ceutury quality is quite recent. ""After
one or another of his superseded translations or ineffective
exercises in heroics had in turn been assigned the place of j
honour as his representative literary work, his real inaster-
j ipfe was discerned in a poem which, except for a reprint
issued in 1819, had been singularly overlooked, and even
omitted from the collected edition.? of his poetry. The
history of this poem, A Song to David, is somewhat re-
markable. It was written in the saner moments of con-
finement for a fit of insanity, and was, it is said, on not
unimpeachable^ authority perhaps, indented with an iron
nail or a key in the wall of the cell in default of other
means of writing. The real facts of the case would seem
to be that the unfortunate poet inscribed one or two stanzas
in the manner asserted, and that he either dictated or waii
given the materials wherewith to write the rest of the poem,
b M E — S M E
165
There is no internal evidence of any morbid origin, how-
ever, for the poem is full of a healthy and virile energy.
As a boy he was delicate and precocious, with a facile gift
of verse, which ah-eady won him a certain notoriety, of not
the best effect haply, at Durham school, whither he had
been sent on leaving a preparatory school at Maidstone.
During a holiday visit to Raby castle his boyish gifts
attracted the interest of the duchess of Cleveland, who
made him an allowance of £40 a year, which was con-
tinued until her death, and which possibly served further
to weaken his self-reliance. At Cambridge, where he was
entered at Pembroke Hall in 1739, he led a rather dissi-
pated life,- getting heavily into debt, and, while he easily
excelled in certain congenial branches of study, he paid
little attention to the usual college routine. In .spite of
his irregularities, he was made a fellow of his college in
174.5, and at a later date won the newly instituted Seaton
prize for an English poem, — the subject each year being
one of " the attributes of the Supreme Being." Smart
gained this prize five times in all. Resorting then to
London and marrying there a daughter-in-law of Newbery,
the publisher, the poet attempted to make a living by
literary hack-work and journalism, but sank gradually
into difficulties through his improvident and dissipated
habits, so that his wife and chUdren were at last obliged
to leave him. His misfortunes seem to have culminated
in the fit of insanity associated with A Song to David,
which was published in 1763, and in 1771 Smart died
from the effects of poverty and disease.
Amid all his miseries Smart must have been fairly industrious
if Ids journalistic work was at all proportionate to his more sub-
stantial literary productions. Of all that he wrote, however, A
Song to David will alone bear the test of time. Unlike in its simple
forceful treatment and impressive directness of expression, as has
been said, to anything else in ISth-century poetry, the poem on
analysis is found to depend for its unii|ue effect also upon a certain
ingenuity of construction, and the novel v.ay in which David's
ideal (Qualities are enlarged upon. This will be more readily under-
stood on reference to the following verse, the first twelve words of
which become in turn the key-notes, so to speak, of the twelve
succeeding verses : —
" Gre-it, v.lliant,-^ious, gooi3, and clean,
Sublime, contemplative, serene.
Strong, constant, pleasant, wise I
Bright etrtuence of exceeding grace ;
Best man !— the swiftness, and the race.
The peril, and the prize."
The last line is characteristic of another peculiarity in A Song to
David, the effective use of alliteration to complete the initial energy
of the stanza in many instances. But in tlio poem throughout is
revealed a poetic quality which eludes critical analysis and gives
its writer au exceptional interest hardly maintained by his other
works.
A Song to David Is found in somowbat sliortened form In Ward's English Potts,
Tol. iii., and Smart's other poems are given in Anderson's Lritish Foels (170i),
Tol. xl., which contains also a full account of his life.
SMEATON, John (1724-1792), English civil engineer,
the son of an attorney, was born at Austhorpe Lodge, near
Leeds, on 8th June 1724. He received a good education at
the grammar-school of Leeds, displaying special proficiency
in geometry and arithmetic. At a very early age he
evinced a great liking for the use of mechanical tools, and
in his fourteenth or fifteenth year contrived to make a
turning-lathe. On leaving school in his sixteenth year he
was employed in his father's office, but, after attending for
some months in 1712 the courts at Westminster Hall, ho
earnestly requested to be allowed to follow some mechani-
cal profession. He became apprentice to a philosophical
instrument maker, and in 1750 set up in business on his
own account. Besides improving various mathematical
instruments used in navigation and astronomy, ho carried
on several experiments in regard to other mechanical
appliances, amongst the most important being a series on
which ho founded a paper — for which ho received the
Copley medal of the Eoyal Society in 1759 — entitled An
Experimental Inquiry concerning l/te Native Powert of
Wafer and Wind to tvrn Mills -and other Machines depend-
ing on a Ci.-cular Motion. In 1754 ho made a tour of
the Low Countries to study the great canal works of foreign
engineers. Already by his papers read before the Eoyal
Society and his intercourse with scientific men his abilities
as an engineer had become well known, and in ^750
application was made to him to reconstruct the Eddystone
lighthouse, which had been bm-nt down in December of the
previous year (see Lighthouse, vol. xiv. p. 616). Smeaton
now began to be much consulted in regard to all kinds of
important engineering projects, including river navigation,
the drainage of fens, the designing of harbours, and the
repair and construction of bridges, owing to the thorough
engineering skill he displayed in every operation he under-
took. In judging of his achievements it ought to be
remembered that he was the precursor of the great modern
engineers. James Watt said of him, " His example and
precepts have made us all engineers." He combined in a
remarkable degree theoretical with practical skill, much of
his success being due to the fact that, as Stevenson states,
"he was an incessant experimenter." A considerable
portion of his time was also devoted to astronomical studies
and observations, on which he read various papers before
the Royal Society. In order to prepare an account of
the various works on which he had been engaged as an
engineer, Smeaton resolved to retire from his profession,
but he only lived to complete in 1791 his Narrative of tlte
Building of Eddystone Lighthouse. He died at Austhorpe,
28th October 1792, and was buried in the old parish church
of Whitkirk.
Sisa A Short Narrative of the Genius, Life, and WorJcs of the late
Mr John ^incalon, 1793 ; and Smiles, Lives of tlie Engineers.
SMELL is a sensation excited by the contact with the
olfactory region of certain substance's, usually in a gaseous
condition and necessarily in a state of fine subdivision.
The sense is widely distributed throughout the animal
kingdom. The lower animals, especially those breathing
in water, become cognizant of the presence of odoriferous
matter near them without touch, vision, or hearing, and
we suppose that they do so by some sense of taste or
smell, or a combination of both. In such cases smell has
been appropriately termed "taste at a distance," by which
is meant that particles of matter may be diffused through
the water so as to come into contact with the terminal
organ and give rise to a sensation 'such as would have
been excited had the matter from which the particles
emanated come directly into contact with the nerve-end-
ings. It is therefore of no great importance whether such
sensations in humble aquatic organisms are termed taste
or smell. In the higher air-breathing animals, however,
the senses are differentiated : that of taste is found at the
entrance of the alimentary canal, whilst that of smell
guards the opening of the respiratory tract. This view
assists in the interpretation of various structures met with
in the lower forms which have been fairly regarded by
naturalists as olfactory organs.
Comjxirative View of Olfactory Organs. — In various ^fc(!usm
pit-like depressions, lined with ciliated epithelium, on the dorsal
side of the excavation in which the " marginal " bodies are found,
h."fl been called olfactory regions. In many Arthropoda the sense
of smell is located in delicate tubular structures, or conical projec-
tions, found on the antcnnoe and connected with nerves. Similar
organs aro met with in Crustaeea. In Ctjclups [Cope]io<la), hopodn,
and Thoracoslraca olfactory hairs are nrescnt as dclicato apjicn-
dagcs of the anterior antennic, chiefly in tho nialo sex. In
Schizopoda tho anterior nntcnnro hnvo a comb-liko promincnco
bearing a great number of olfaAory hairs. Jnsecta have olfactory
organs largely developed, usually in tho form of hairs, cones, c-
knobs on tho antcnmc, and connected with gangliated nerve-end-
ings. Olfactory organs arc also mot with in Mollusca : in Lamclli-
branchiala tlioy appear as Imira on tho margin of tho mantlu ;
ip aquatic Gasteropoda as tufts of liairs scattered over tho sur-
face of tho body and specially aggregated in those parts wliu*»
16(5
SMELL
tactile sensibility is highly developed ; in terrestrial Gasteropoda
the antennae have on their end plates a number of club-shaped cells
with rods, which are held to be olfactory, and recently in the
same class Sprengel has shown that an organ "which was supposed
to be a rudimentary gill, and is innervated from the supra-intestinal
ganglion," has an olfactory function. In Ascidians the olfactory
legion is believed to be a depression on the wall of the pharynx,
situated iu front of the ganglion, and lined with ciliated epithelium.
In Fishes the olfactory organs consist of a membrane (the pitui-
tary membrane) lining one or two pits, to which the olfactory or
first pair of cranial nerves are distributed. This highly vascular
membrane is usually thrown into numerous folds, so as to admit
of an extensive surface being packed into small space, and it is
tovered by ciliated epithelium. In the lowest vertebrate, Amphi-
oxiis, the olfactory organ is a simple unsymmetrical pit at the
anterior end of the nervous system. In the hag fishes {Myxinidx)
the olfactory pit has a posterior opening which pierces the palate
and can be closed by a valvular apparatus. In the lampreys
(Petromyzon) the flask-shaped nasal sac opens on the top of the
head, and from this a tube descends which expands into a blind
sac towards the base of the skull. In all other fishes the olfactory
ergans are double and have no commimication with the mouth. In
osseous fishes the olfactory capsules or sacs are covered with skin
which is usually pierced by two openings for each sac Some, such
as the wrasses, have a single nasal, opening ; and where there are
two the anterior can be closed by a valve. The olfactory region
may be extensive owing to the pituitary membrane being thrown
into plaits or folds, and it may be divided into two portions, one
quite smooth and the other plicated. The smooth portion, prob-
ably acting as a reservoir, may be large, extending down to the
palate, as in the mackerel, or to the back part of the palate, as in
the wolf-fish (Owen), The nasal cavities exist below the snout in
sharks, near the angles of the month in the rays, and beneath the
fore part of the head, behind the base of the rostrum, in the saw-
fish. In such fishes the olfactory organ is guarded by valves, con-
taining cartilaginous plates moved by muscles, and we may there-
fore conclude with Owen "that these fishes scent as well as smell,
ic, actively search fbr odoriferous impressions by rapidly changing
the current of water through the olfactory sac."
The olfactory organs of Amphibia are always paired cavities,
opening internally either anteriorly within the lips or further
back, as in the batrachians and salamandrines. In the Perenni-
branchiates (Siren, Proteus, Axolotl) there are no outward signs of
olfactory organs, and the thick upper lip must be raised to bring
the plicated sac with its two remote orifices into view (Owen). In
the Tritonidas (newts) and Salamandrinx (salamanders) the olfac-
tory membrane is smooth and lines an oval bag having an external
nostril, guarded by a valvular fold of skin, and a palatal opening.
Frogs and toads (Batrachia) have also an external nostril wifh a
flap of skin, and the palatal opening is wide and near the fore part
of the mouth. The skulls of extinct sauri.ins of marine habits
{Ichthyosaurus and Flcsiosaurus) show that the external nostrils
opened near the orbits at a distance from the muzzle. In snakes
(Ophidia) the external nostrils are double, and the internal nostril
is single and in the median line. In water snakes the external
orifices can he. closed by valves.
In Chelmia (turtles, tortoises) and in Crocodilia the external nasal
opening is single and near the end of the snout; but in Chelonia
the nostrils are really distinct, although their external apertures
coincide. In the turtle the nasal cavity is large and contains a
twisted shell-like cartilage, so as to give extent of surface to the
darkiy pigmented and highly vascular pituitary membrane. In
the crocodiles and alligaiv,rs the nostrils can be closed by a valvular
lobe, and in the gavials {Rhamphost'oma gangeticum and Rliyricho-
suchtts schlcgclii) the integument can be raised round the nostril
in the form of a tube so as to bring the orifice to the surface of the
water without exposing the other parts of the head (Owen). In all
Crocodilia the nasal cavity is of gi'eat length, commencing at the
fore part of the muzzle and ending beneath the occiput by a single
aperture, and the surface of this long 'olfactory meatus is increased
by the meatus communicating with large cells or sinuses. In snakes
and lizards a second olfactory organ is found embedded between the
tnrbinals and the vomer and is known as " Jacobson's organ." It has
the form of a cup or depression roMud a cartilaginous papilla and is
supplied by a nerve which arises from the end of the olfactory lobe.
The olfactory organs of Birds are somewhat similar to those of
the told-blooded reptiles and amphibians in that " the external
Bostrils are simple perforations, having no movable cartilages or
muscles provided for dilating or contracting their apertures, as in
mammalia" (Owen). The extent of the olfactory surface is in-
creased by projections and folds of turbinated bones and not by
large accessory cavities. With the exception of the apteryx and
dinornis, the olfactory nerve passes out of the skull by a single
foramen. The external nostrils are in the majority of birds placed
at the sides of the upper mandible ; but in some cases, as in the
toucans, they are found at the base of the bill, and in the apteryx
they open at the extremity of the long upper mandible. In herons
the apertures are so small as scarcely to admit the point of a pin ;
and in the pelicans they are wanting, and odours get access to
the olfactory organ from the palate. The Fasorcs (scratching birds)
have the nostrils defended by a scale, and the crows (Corvidie) have
a bunch of stiff feathers for the same purpose. The septum or
partition between the nostrils is usually complete and is formed ol
bone and cartilage. The outer wall of each nasal passage is
furnished with three turbinal or twisted shell-like bones, of which
the middle is the largest, thus affording a considerable extent of
olfactory surface. In most birds there are two posterior nasal
apertures communicating with the palate ; but in some, as in the
cormorant and gannet, the passages unite and there is only one
opening. In birds the upper part of the nasal passage is more
especially devoted to the sense of smell, whilst the lower part may
be regarded as the beginning of the respiratory tract. This is in-
dicated by the arrangement of the nerves, the olfactory nerve being
distributed to the membrane covering the septum and the Superior
and middle turbinated bones, whilst the lower portion and lower
turbinals are supplied by the fifth nei-ve, — a nerve of general sensi-
bility. The upper turbinals reach their greatest development in the
apteryx, where they are attached, according to Owen, to the whole
outer part of the prefrontals. This bird has amongst birds the
largest olfactory nerves in proportion to its size, and it would
appear to be guided by the sense of smell to the worms that form
its food. A contrast as regards the anatomical arrangements for
the olfactory sen.se is well seen on comparing the turkey with the
vulture. In the turkey the olfactory nerve is small, about one-
fifth the size of that in the vulture, and is distributed over a small
middle turbinal, there b dng no extension over a superior turbinal.
The vulture, on the other hand, has a large nerve and the olfactory
region is extensive, owing to the largely developed superior turbinal
bone. There can be no -doubt that the carrion -eating vulture is
guided from great distanops to its food by the sense of smell,
although it will be assisted by its powerful sense of vision.
The sense of smell reaches its highest development in Mammalia.
The anatomical surface is enormously extended in many cases, not
oi)ly by the complication of the ethmoidal labyrinth, but alsoby
the nasal passages communicating mth spaces in the neighbouring
cranial and facial bones. The olfactory nerves also are very numer-
ous and arise from a special encephalic centre. They pass out of
the skull by numerous holes in the cribriform or sieve-like plate of
the prefrontal bone, "which, on account of this peculiarity, is called
the ethmoid bone. These nerves ramify on the olfactory membrane,
covering the upper or ethmo-turbinal bones. The cavity contain-
ing the organ of smell is bounded by the prefrontal, vomerine,
nasal, sphenoid, pterygoid, palatine, maxillary, and premaxillary
bones, and it is usually in connexion with air-cavities o^ sinuses
in many or all of the bones of the skull. The median partition
by which the two nostrils are formed consists of bone and cartilage
and is built up by processes of the prefrontals, the vomer, and by
the ridges of the nasals, palatines, maxillaries, and premaxillaries
with which the vomer articulates. Each passage thus formed is
the beginning of the respiratorj- tract, and is continued fofwards
into a more or less mobile part called a nose, snout, or proboscis,
whilst posteriorly it communicates with the upper part of the
phar}'nx, into which opens the windpipe. On the Outer wall there
are three turbinal bones — superior, middle, and inferior — dividing
partially the nasal cavity into three meatuses or passages. The
superior meatus is between the superior and middle turbinated
bones, the middle meatus between the middle and inferior
turbinated, bones, and the inferior meatus between the inferior
turbinated bones and the floor of the nose (see Anatomy, vol. L
p. 823, fig. 7 ; also vol. i. pL XIX fig. 2). Many of the lower
mammals have in addition a: process from the frontal and nasal
bones, sometimes called the superior spongy bone, which is not the
same as the superior turbinated, as described in the anatomy of the
liuman being. The extent of olfactory surface is enormously
increased by numerous plicae or processes of bone Which to a great
extent mask the comparatively simple arrangement above described.
In Omilhorhymhus there is a single olfactory nerve escaping through
an aperture in the prefrontal bone ; in Echidna, the other member
of the Monotreniala, there are numerous olfactory nei-ves and a large
development of ethmo-turbinals. In many Marsupials the sense of
smell is largely developed, and in some (Osphranter) the turbinated
bones are so large as to cause a lateral bulging of the nasal cavity,
forming a marked feature of the skull. In Bodents the ethmo-tur-
binals may be subdivided into lamellae so as to increase the olfactory
surface ; such is the case in the common hare. In the porcupine
the sinuses developed from the olfactory cavity are of large size,
forming a spongy mass surrounding the cavity of the skull in
which the anterior portion of the brain lies. In Inseclivora the
olfactory surface is very large. Thus in the mole the ethmo-tur-
binal has not fewer than eight lamells or plates and the external
nose is developed into a snout capable of considerable movement
Such a snout is very large and mobile in the elephant shrews
Armadillos and ant-eaters {Edentata) have a strong sense of smell
Thus in DasyptiS the nasal portion of the skull is about equal in
SMELL
167
ToluSiC to all the rest, inil in Chlnmydmhnrus (dwarf armajillo) the
fiontaU aru raised " into a pair of domes " by sinuses in them com-
municating with the large olfactory cavity. In most armadillos
the external nose is strengthened by small bones. The air sinuses
in the sloth extend upwards into the frontals and downwards into
the sphenoid bone. No Cetaceans have olfactory organs, except the
baleen or whalebone whales, and thus are devoid of the sense of
smell. !n H>n manatee {Sircnia) the nasal openings are placed
far forwards and have movable cartilages, ana the bony walls of
the nasal passages are not extensive in proportion to the size of
the rest of the skull. The elephants {Proboscidea) have the part
of the nasal cavity concerned in smell contracted and narrow, but
the cavity is prolonged into the trunk, at the end of which are the
nostrils ; the nasal cavity communicates with sinuses permeating
every bone of the cranium. The tapirs have a shorter but very
mobile proboscis, and the development of the nasal passages is ex-
tensive. The horse has the power of dilating and contracting each
nostril, and the cribriform plates transmit very numerous olfactory
nerves from the olfactory' bulbs, which are large in proportion to
the size of the rest of the brain. The Suidx (swine) have a large
and complex olfactory region ; the accessory sinuses or spaces
actain a great development ; the nose is prolonged and truncate,
the cartilages foriaing a complete tube, which i.-) a continuation of
the bony nostrils, and these tubes open on a naked disk. In the
ox and sheep the olfactory region is large, but not so large as in
the horse. The external, glandul.ir, and moist part of the nose is
a linear tract running from the mid-furrow of the upper lip to the
oblique nostril in the sbeip, and this portion passes through many
gradations in size, as se.'n in the roebuck, fallow-deer, red-deer,
and the ox. The Carnivora have the ethmo-turbinal and masillo-
turbinal regions even more, largely developed than in Hcrbivora,
and the latter portion reaches its maximum in the seals, where
" these turbinals seem to block up the entry of the nasal respi-
ratory passages, and must warm the air in arctic latitudes as
well as arrest every indication from the effluvia of alimentary
substances or prey" (Owen). In Quadrumana the nasal cliamber
becomes shorter and gains in depth, but not proportionally.
In the platyrhine monkeys the cartilage forming the septum
becomes flattened anteriorly, pushing the nostrils outwards. In
the catarrhines this flattening is much less, so that the nostrils are
approximated. In both groups the nostrils are not terminal. In
ilan the chief characteristic is the prominence of the fore part of
the chambers, with the nostrils on the lower surface, and the nose
is supported by eleven pieces of cartilage, of which one is medial,
the others lateral, in five pairs. The size and form of the septal
or medial cartilage mainly determine the shape and prominence of
the nose. It is least developed but thickest in the Negro and
Papuan races. (For a description of the muscles of the nose in
man, see Axatomy, vol. i. p. 837.)
The interior of the nose is divided physiologically into two
portions, — (1) the upper {regio olfacloria), which embraces
the iippnr p.art of the septum, the upper turbinated bone,
and a portion of the middle turbinated bone ; and (2) the
lower portion of the cavity (regio respiraioria). The
olfactory i-egion proper has a thicker raucous membrane
than the , respiratory ; it is covered by a single layer of
wi\'0im]^^:
\i^-'i^
3 2 1
Longitudinal section thrnusli die olfaetorymembmne of Ruini'.'irliT. xahmit400.
1, Olfactory cpitbplium on free svji-faec ; '.;. plekUM nl olfiuilory nRfve-nbreB ;
3, pouchca of serous glands containing epiltidlul cells. I'rom Klein'a Aliai o/
epithelial .cells, often branched at their lower ends and
■;ontatning a yellow or brownish red pigment ; and it con-
tains peculiar tubular glands named " Bowman's glands."
The respiratory portion contains ordinary serous glands.
In the olfactory region also are the terminal organs of smell.
These are long narrow cells passing to the surface between
the columnar epithelium covering the surface. (See Ana-
tomy, vol. i. p. 885, fig. 76.) The body of the cell ia
spindle-shaped and it sends up to the surface a delicato
rod-like filament, whilst the deeper part is continuous with
varicose nerve-filaments, the ends of the olfactory uerve.
In the frog the free end terminates in fine hairs.
Physical Causes o/57«e//.— Electrical or thermal stimuli
uo not usually give rise to olfactory sensations. Althaus
states that electrical stimulation caused a sensation of the
smell ot phosphorus. To excite smell it is usually sup'-
posed that substances must be present in the atmosjihere
in a state of fine subdivision, or existing as vapours oi
gases. The fineness of the particles is remarkable, because
if the air conveying an odour be filtered through a tube
packed with cotton wool and inserted into the nose a smell
is still discernible. This proceeding completely removes
from the air organisms le.ss than the too'ooi?*^' "f ''" ''"^''
in diameter which are the causes of putrefaction and
fermentation. A grain or two of musk will scent an apart-
ment for years and at the end of the time no appreciable
loss of weight can be detected. Substances exciting smell
are no doubt usually gases or vapours. Only a few ten-
tative efforts have been made to connect the sense with the
chemical constitution of the substance. One of the most
important of these is in an Essay on Smell, by Dr. William
Ramsay of University College, Bristol. The following
gases have no smell : — hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, water
gas, marsh gas, defiant gas, carbon monoxide, hydro- '
chloric acid, formic acid vapour, nitrous oxide, and ammonia.
(It is nece-ssary. of course, to distinguish between the sensa-
tion of smell and the irritant action of such a gas as
ammonia.) The gases exciting smell are chlorine, bromine,
iodine, the compounds of the- first two with oxygen and
water, nitric- peroxide, vapours of pho.sphnnjs and sulphur,
arsenic, antimony, sulphurous acid, carbonic acid, almost
ail the volatile compounds of carbon except those already
mentioned, some compounds of selenium and tellurium,
the compounds of chlorine, bromine, and iodine with the
above-nan-.cd elements, and some metals. Chlorine,
bromine, iodine, sulphur, selenium, and tellurium, which
are volatile and give off vapour at ordinary temperatures,
have each a characteristic smell. Ramsay jioints out that
as a general rule substances having a low molecular weight
have either no smell or simply cause irritation of the nostril.s.
He also shows that in the' carbon compounds increase of
specific gravity as a gas is associated to a certain point with
a sensation of smell. Take the marsh gas or methane
series commonly called the paraffins. The first two have no
.smell; ethane (fifteen times as heavy as hydrogen) has a
faint smell ; and it is not- till butane (thirty times heavier
than hydrogen) that a distinct sensation of smell is noticed.
Again, a similar relation exists among the alcohols. Methyl
alcohol has no smell. Ltliyl, or ordinary alcohol free from
ethers and wat^r, has a faint smell; "and the odour rapidly
becomes more marked as we rise in the series, till the limit
of volatility is reached, and we arrive at solids with such a
low vapour tension that they give off no appreciable amount
of vapour at the ordinary temperature." Acids gain in
odour with increase in density in the form of gas. Thus
formic acid is devoidof smell ; acetic acid has a characteristic
smelt ; and the higher acids of the series— propionic, butyric,
valerianic — increase in odour. It would appear also that
" the character of a smell is a property of the clement or
group which enters into the body producing the small,
and tends to make it generic." Many compounds of
chlorine, hydrogen, compounds of suli.hur, selenium, and
tellurium, the paraffins, the alcohols, the acuLs, the nilnlcs.
168
S M E — S M I
the amines, the pyridine series, the benzene group, have
each a characteristic odour. Kamsay has advanced the
tlieory that the sense of smell " is excited by vibrations of
a lower period than those which give rise to the sense of
lin-ht or heat," and he points out a series of important facts
in supnort of this view. ' He states that to produce the sen-
sation of smell a substance must have a molecular weight
at least fifteen times that of hydrogen. For instance, the
specific gravity of marsh gas is eight (no smell), of ethane fif-
teen (faint smell), of propane twenty- two (distinct smell).
Again, prussic acid has a specific gravity of fifteen, and many
persons fail to detect its odour. Further, Ramsay sup-
poses that smell may be excited by vibrations, and suggests
that the period of vibration of the lighter molecules is too
rapid to affect the sense ; at last a number of vibrations is
reached capable of exciting the sense organ ; and beyond an
upper limit the senso is again lost. Graham pointed out
that odorous substances are in general readily oxidized.'
Tvndall showed that many odorous vapours have a con-
siderable power of absorbing heat. Taking the absorptive
capacity of the air as unity, the following absorptions were
observed in the respective cases : —
Name of Perfume.
Absorption
per 100.
Name of Perfume.
Absorption
per 100.
30
32
33
33-5
36-5
4-i
47
Lavender
60
05
67
68
74
80
109
1 Lemon
Otto of roses
"° '
In comparison with the air introduced in the experi-
ments the weight of the odours must be almost infinitely
■jniall. " Still we find that the least energetic in the list
produces thirty times the effect of the air, whilst the most
energetic produces 109 times the sanle effect." ^
Venturi, B. Prevost, and Liegeois have studied the well-
known movements of odoriferous particles, such as cam-
phor, succinic acid, &c., when placed on the surface of
water, and they have suggested that all odoriferous sub-
stances in a state of fine subdivision may move in a similar
way on the moist surface of the olfactory membrane, and
thus mechanically irritate the nerve-endings. This ex-
planation is too coarse; but it is well known that the
odours of flowers are most distinctly perceived in the
morning, or after a shower, when the atmosphere contains
a considerable amount of aqueous vapour. It would
appear also that the odours of animal 'effluvia are of a
higher specific gravity than the air, pnd do not readily
diffuse,— a fact which may account for the pointer and
bloodhound keeping their noses to the ground. Such
smells are very persistent and are apparently difficult to
remove from any surface to which they have become
attached. The smell of a corpse may haunt a living
person for days, notwithstanding copious ablutions and
change of clothes.^
Special Phydolo'jy of Smell. — It is necessary that the
air containing the odour bo driven forcibly against the
membrane. Thus the nostrils may be. filled with eau de
Cologne, or with air impregnated with sulphuretted hydro-
gen, and still no odour is experienced if the person does
not breathe. When a sniff is made the air within the
nasal passages is rarefied, and, as the air rushes in to equili-
brate the pressure, it is forcibly propelled against the
olfactory surface. The olfactory surface must be moist ;
if it is dry, or is covered with too thick a layer of mu-
cus (as in catarrh), the sense is much weakened or lost.
' Bain, Senses and Irdelleci, Sd ed., p. 152.
2 Tyndall, Contributions to Molecular Physics in Domain of Radiant
Heat, p. 99.
^ Liegeois, Archiv de Pltysiol., 1S68.
The first moment of contact is the most acute and the sense
quickly becomes blunted. The first scent of a flower is
the strongest and sweetest ; and after a few minutfes' ex-
posure the intensity of even a fcetid odour may not be
perceived. This fact may be accounted for on the sup-
position that the olfactory membrane becomes quickly
coated with a thin layer of matter, and that the most
intense effect is produced when the odoriferous substances
are applied to a clean surface. The intensity of smell
depends on (1) the area of olfactory surface affected, and
(2) the degree of concentration of the odoriferous matter.
It is said that musk to the amount of the two-millionth of
a millifrramme, and one part of sulphuretted hydrogen in
1,000, UUO J. tilts of air may be perceived. If the two
nostrils are tilled with different odorous substances, there
is no mixture of the odours, but we smell sometimes the
one and sometimes the other '(Valentin). Morphia, mixed
with sugar and taken as snuff, paralyses the olfactory ap-
paratus, while strychnine makes it more sensitive (Lichten-
fels and Frohlich).
The delicacy of tne sense is mucn greater in many of
the lovver animals than in man, and it, is highly probable
that the dog or cat obtain information by means of this
sense which a human being cannot get. Odours may excite
in the minds of many animals vivid impression.?, and they
have probably a memory of smells which the human bging
does not possess. Even in man the sense may be greatly im-
proved by exercising it. A boy, James Mitchell, was born
blind, deaf, and dumb, and chiefly depended on smell for
keeping up a connexion mth the outer world. He readily
observed the, presence of a stranger in the room and he
formed his opinions of persons apparently from their char-
acteristic smells. In some rare cases, the sense of smell
is congenitally absent in human beings, and it may be
much injured by the practice of snuffing or by diseases of
the nose affecting the olfactory membrane. Subjective im-
"pressions of smells, like spectral illusions or sounds in the
ears, are occasionally, but rarely observed in the insane.
Finally, it may be observed that the sense of odour gives
information as to the characters of food and drink and as
to the purity of the air. In the lower animals, also, the
sense is associated with the sexual functions.
See art. "Olfjotioii" by Fran9ois Franck, in Didionnairc Ency-
clopedique des Sciences Medicnles, 2d series, where a full historical
bibliography is given ; Hermann's Handbuch der Physiologic :
d. Sinnesorganc : ZwcitcT Theit, Gcruchsinne, by Fi'of. V. Vintschgau,
p. 226 ; Owen's Comp. Anatomy and Physiol, of Vcrtchraia , Bain,
oj>. cil., p. 147; Grant Allen's Physiological .Esthetics, p. 77;
Ramsay, Nature, vol. N.tvi. p. 187 ; and for James Mitchell's case,
see Dugald Stewart's Works, vol. iv. p. 300. (J. G. M.)
SMELT. See Salmonid.e, vol. sxi. p. 1.
SMETHWICK, an urban sanitary district of Stafford-
shire, England, on the boiders ot Worcestershire and War-
wickshire, is situated on the Birmingham, Dudley, and
Wolverhampton Canal, and on branches of the London
and North-Western and the Great Western Railway lines,
3 miles west from Birmingham, of which the town of
Smethwick is a suburb. It possesses a public hall and a
free library and reading-room. Within the limits of the
district is the Soho foundry originated by James Watt;
and since its origin numerous other industries have been
concentrated in the suburb, the more important being the
manufacture of glass, chemicals, hydraulic jacks, patent
nuts and bolts, and patent tubes. Many of the works are
of great extent. The population of the urban sanitary
district in 1871 was 17,158, and in 1881 farea. 1882 acres)
it had increased to 25,084.
SMIRKE, Robert .(1752-1845), subject painter, was
born at Wigton near Carlisle in 1752. In his thirteenth
year he was apprenticed in London with an heraldic painter,
and at the age of twenty he began to study in the schools
S M I^S M I
169
of the Royal Academ}', to whose exhibition he contributed
in 17SG a Xarcissus and a Sabrina, which were followed by
Qiany works, usually small in size, illustrative of the English
poets, especially Thomson. In 1791 Smirke was elected
an associate of the Royal Academy, and two years later a
full member. In 1811 he was nominated keeper to the
Academy, but the king refused to sanction the appoint-
ment oh account of the artist's pronounced revolutionary
opinions. He was engaged upon the Shakespeare gallery,
for' which he painted Katharina and Petruchio, Prince
Henry, and Falstaif, and other subjects. He also executed
many clever and popular book-illustrations. His works,
which are frequently of a humorous character, are pleasing
and graceful, accom])lished in draftsmanship and handled
with consideraHe spirit. He died in London on the 5th
of January 1845.
SMITH, Ada.m (172.3-1790), the greatest of political
economists, was the only child of Adam Smith, comptroller
of the customs at Kirkcaldy in Fifeshire, Scotland, and of
Margaret Douglas, daughter of Jlr Douglas of Strathendry,
near Leslie. He was born at Kirkcaldy on 5th June
1723, some months after the death of his father. Of a
weak constitution, he required and received during his
early years the most tender care of an aflfectionate mother,
which he repaid in after life by every attention which
filial gratitude could dictate. When he was three years
old he was taken on a visit to his uncle at Strathendry, and
when playing alone at the door of the house was carried
off by a party of " tinkers." Fortunately he was at once
missed, and the vagrants pursued and overtaken in Leslie
wood. He received his early education in the school of
Kirkcaldy under David Miller, amongst whose pupils were
many who were afterwards distinguished men. Smith
showed as a boy great fondness for books and remarkable
powers of memory ; and his friendly and generous disposi-
tion made him popular amongst his schoolfellows. He
was sent in 1737 to the university of Glasgow, where
he attended the lectures of Dr Hutcheson ; and in 1740
he went to Baliol Co.llege, Oxford, as exhibitioner on Snell's
foundation, with a view to his taking orders in the English
Church. He remained at that university for seven years.
At Glasgow his favourite studies had been mathematics
and natural philosophy ; but at Oxford he appears to have
devoted himself almost entirely to moral and 'political
science and to the cultivation of the ancient and modern
languages. He also laboured to improve his English style
by the practice of translation, particularly from the French.
He was not impres.sed with a favourable opinion of the
systepi of education then pursued at Oxford. After his
return to Kirkcaldy he resided there two years with his
mother, continuing his studies ; he had relinquished the
idea of entering the ecclesiastical profession, but had not
yet adopted any other plan for his future life. In 1748
he removed to Edinburgh, and there, under the patronage
of Lord Karnes, gave lectures on rhetoric and belles-lettres.
About this time commenced his acquaintance with David
Hume,- which afterwards ripened into an intimate friend-
ship, founded on mutual esteem ; his relations with that
great thinker must have powerfully influenced the forma-
tion of his opinions. In 1751 he was elected professor of
llogic at Glasgow, and in the following year was transferred
to the chair of moral philosophy in the same university,
which had become vacant by- the death of Thomas-Craigie,
the successor of Hutcheson. This position ho occupied for
nearly twelve years, which he long afterwards declared to
have been " by far the most useful, and therefore by far
the happiest and most honourable period of his life." He
was highly esteemed by his colleagues, of whom, on his
side, he speaks as "very excellent men." His course of
lectures, as Professor ^LUar informs us, was divided into
four parts — (1) natural theology ; (2) ethics ; (3) a treatr
ment of that branch of morality which relates to justic:, a
subject which he handled historically after the manner of
Montesquieu, " endeavouring to trace the gradual progress
of jurisprudence, both public aud private, from the rudest
to the most refined ages, and to point cut the. efTects of
those arts which contribute to subsistence and to the
accumulation of property in producing corre.' ponding
improvements or alterations in law and governmei t"; (4^
a study of those political regulations which are 1 lundcd,
not upon the principle of justice, but that of expidiency,
and w^hicli are calculated to increase the riches, the power,
and the prosperity of a state. Under this view 1 e con
sidered the political institutions relating to commence, to
finances, to ecclesiastical and military establishments He
first appeared as an author by contributing two artides to
the Edinburgh Reviejo (an earlier journal than the pp sent,
which was commenced in 1755, but of which only tjvo
numbers' were published), — one on Johnson's Diclion<:ry
and the other a letter to the editors on the state of litera-
ture in the different countries of Europe. In 1759 ap-
peared his Tlieory of Moral Sentiments, embodying the
second portion of his university course, to which was
added in the 2d edition an appendix with the title, " Con-
siderations concerning the first Formation of Languages."
After the publication of this work his ethical doctrines
occu[)ied less .space in his lectures, and a larger develop-
ment was given to the subjects of jurisprudence and
political economy. Stewart gives us to understand that
he had already, as early as 1752, adopted the liberal views
of commercial policy which he afterwards preached with
so much effect ; and this we should have been inclined to
believe independently from the fact that such views were
propounded in that year in the Political Discoztrses of his
friend Hume. His residence at Glasgow brought him into
personal relations with many intelligent men from whose
practical experience he could derive information on mer-
cantile questions ; and, on the other hand, we are told,
hi. reasonings convinced several eminent merchants of that
city of the soundness of the principles of free trade, which
were at variance with their previous opinions.
In 1762 the senatus academicus of Glasgo.w conferred
on him the honorary degree of doctor of laws. In 1763
he was invited to take charge of the young duke of Buc-
cleu,ch on his travels. He accepted the proposal, and
■resigned his professorship. He went abroad with his
pupil in March 1764 ; they remained only a few days at
Paris and then settled at Toulouse, then the seat of a
parliament, where they spent eighteen months in the best
society of the place, afterwards making a tour in the south
of France and passing two months at Geneva. Returning
to Paris about Christmas of 1765, they remained there till
the October of the following year. The period was one of
intellectual and social ferment, and Smith was brought
into relation with the most eminent persons of the time.
Ho lived in the society of Quesnay, Turgot, D'Alembert,
Morellet, Helvotius, Marmontol, and the duke de la Roche-
foucault. It was the regard he entertained for the young
nobleman- last named that dictated the omission in tho
later editions of his Moral Sentiments of the name of tho
celebrated ancestor of the duke, whom he had a.ssociatcd
with Maodeville as author of one of tho " licentious sys-
' These two nunibirs were repriuteJ iu 181S. Siiiitb's letter totlio
editors is specially interesting for its account of tlio Encydoptdie and
its criticism of rionssenu'a pictures of savage life.
" The iluke un.i.rtook a translation of the Theory of Moral Senti-
ments, but tho Abbe Blavct's version appeared (1774) before his was
completed and ho then relinquished the design. An curlier French
tr.-.nslatfon hail been published (1764) \inder the title Mllaphysiquf dt
I'Xmc ; and there is a later one— tho best— by the marquis de Con-
dorcet(1798, 2d cd. 18301
170
fci M I T H
[ad AM
terns" reviewed in the seventh part of that work. Smith
was without doubt much inliuenced by his contact with
the members of the physiocratic schoolj especially with its
chief, though Dupont de Neni,ours probably goes too far
in speaking of Smith and himself as having been "con-
disciples chez M. Quesnay." Smith afterwards described
Quesnay as a man " of the greatest modesty and sim-
plicity," and declared his system of political economy to
be, "with all its imperfections, the nearest approximation
to truth that had yet been published on the principles of
that science." In October 17G6 tutor and pupil returned
home, and they ever afterwards retained strong feelings of
mutual esteem. For the next ten years Smith lived with
his mother at Kirkcaldy, only paying occasional visits to
Edinburgh and London ; he was engaged in close study
during most of this time, but unbent his mind in familiar
intercourse with a few friends. He describes himself to
Hume during this period as being extremely happy, com-
fortable, and contented. He was now occupied on his
Inqviiy info i/ie Kature and Causes of the Wealth' of
Nations, which there is some reason for believing he had
laegun at Toulouse. That great work appeared in 1776.*
After its publication, and only a few months before his
own death, Hume wrote to congratulate his friend —
" Evr/e ! belle ! dear j\lr Smith, I am much pleased with
your performance, and the perusal of it has taken me from
a state of great anxiety. It was a work of so much ex-
pectation by yourself, by your friends, and by the public,
that I trembled for its appearance ; but am now much
relieved. Not but that the reading of it requires so much
attention, and the public is disposed to give so little, that
I shall still doubt for some time of its being at first very
popular. But it has depth, and solidity, and acuteness,
and is so much illustrated by curious facts that it must
at last take the public attention." Smith attended Hume
affectionately during a part of his last illness, and soon
after the death of the philosopher there was published,
along with his autobiography, a letter from Smith to
Strahan, in which he gave an account of the closing
scenes of his friend's life and expressed warm admiration
for his character. This letter excited some rancour among
the theologians, and Dr George Home, afterwards bishop
of Norwich, published in 1777, by way of comment on it,
A Letter to Adam Smith on the Life, Death, and rhilospphy
of his Friend David Hume, by one of the peojyle called
Christians. But Smith took no notice of this effusion.-
He was also attacked by Archbishop Magee for the
omission in subsequent editions of a passage of the Moral
Sentirienti which that prelate had cited with high com-
mendation as among the ablest illustrations of the doctrine
of the atonement. Smith had omitted the paragraph in
question on the ground that, it was unnecessary and mis-
' Mr J. E. T. Rogers published in the Academy, 2Sth Febniary
1885, a letter of Smith to William Pulteney, \VTitten ia 1772, from
which he thinks it probable that the work lay " unrevised and \m-
iltered" iu the author's desk for four years. A similar conclusioii
jeems to follow from a letter of Hume in Burton's Life, ii. p. 461.
'' A story was told by Sir Walter Scott, and is also related in the
Edinburgh Review, of an " unfortunate rencontre," arising out of the
publication of the same letter, between Smith and Dr Johnson, during
the visit of the laiter to Glasgow, The eume story is given in a note
in Wilberforce's Correspondence, the scene being somewhat vaguely
laid in ".Scotland." ' But it is impossible :.hat it should be true ; for
Johnson made his toiu' in 1778, whilst Hume's death did not take
place till 1/76. Smith seems not to have met Johnson in Scotland at
ti"- It appears, however, from Boswell's Life, under date of 29th
April 1778, that Johnson had on one occasion quarrelled with Smith
and treated him rudely at Strahan's house, apparently in London ;
but, as Robertson met Johnson " for the first time " immediately after
that incident, and as we know that Robertson met him in Scotland, it
Wlows that the " unlucky altercation " at Strahan's must have occurred
before the Scotch tour, and could have had nothing to do with the
^ttxi cu Uume's death.
placed ; but Jlagee suspected him of having been influ-
enced by deeper reasons.
The greater part of the two years which followed the
publication of the Wealth of Nations Smith spent in Lon-
don, enjoying the society of the most eminent i)ersous of
the day, am.ongst whom were Gibbon, Burke, Reynolds,
and Beauclerk. In 1778 he was appointed, through the in-
fluence of the duke of Buccleuch, one of the commissioners
of customs in Scotland, and in consequence of this fixed
his residence at Edinburgh. His mother, now in extreme
old age, lived with him, as did also his cousin. Miss Jane
Douglas, who assisted him in the care of his aged parent,
and superintended his household. Much of his now ample
income is believed to have been spent in secret charities,
and he kept a simple, though hospitable, table, at which,
"without the formality of an invitation, he was always
happy to receive his friends." " His Sunday suppers,"
says Jl'CuUoch, "were long celebrated at Edinburgh."
One of his favourite places of resort in these years was a
club of which Dr Hutton, Dr Black, Dr Adam Ferguson,
John Clerk the naval tactician, Robert Adam the archi-
tect, as well as Smith himself, were original members, and
to which Dugald Stewart, Professor Playfair, and. other
eminent men w-ere afterwards admitted. Another source of
enjoyment was the small but excellent library he possessed;
it is still preserved in his family ; Professor Nicholson has
had access to it, and was struck by the varied nature of
the collection, and especially by the large number of books
of travel and poetry which it contained. In 1787 he was
elected lord rector of th^ university of Glasgow, an
honour which he received with "heartfelt joy." If we can
believe a note in Wilberforce's Correspondence, he visited
London in the spring of the same year, and was introduced
by Dundas^ to Pitt, Wilberforce, and others. From the
death of his mother in 1784, and that of Miss Douglas in
1788, his health and strength gradually declined, and after
a tedious and painful illness he died on Nth July 1790.
Before his decease Smith directed that all his manuscripts except
a few selected essays should be destroyed, and they were accordingly
committed to the flames. Of the pieces preserved by his desire the
most valuable is his tract on the history of astronomy, which he
himself described as a "fragment of a great work" ; it was doubt-
less a portion of the " connected history of the liberal sciences and
elegant arts " which, we are told, he had projected in early life.
Among the papers destroyed were probably, as Stewart suggests,
the lectures on natural religion and jurisprudence which formed
part of his course at Glasgow, and also the lectures on rhetoric
which he delivered at Edinburgh in 1743. To the latter Blair
seems to refer when, in his work on Jihctoric and Bellcs-Lcttrcs
(1783), he acknowledges his obligations to a manuscript treatise
on rhetoric by Smith, part of which its author had shown to him
many years before, a.n(l which he hoped Smith would give to the
public. It was probably the lectures on jurisprudence which Smith
had in view when, some time before his death expressing regret
that he "had- done so little," he added, "I meant to have done
more, and there are materials in my papers of which I could have
made a great deal." He had promised at the end of his Theory oj
Moral Sentiments a treatise on the general principles of jurispru-
dence from the historical point of view, which would doubtless have
been a development of his university lectures on that subject.
In person Smith was of about the middle size, well made and
stout, though not corpulent. His features are said to be well
represented in the medallion by Tassie engi-aved in M'Culloch's
edition of the IVcallh of Nations. His discourses as professor were
almost entirely extemporary, and, as he was always interesteij in
his subject, he never failed to interest his hearers. He w-as some-
times, Millar tells us, embarVassed and spoke with hesitation at the
outset ; but " as he advanced the matter seemed to crowd upon him,
his manner became warm and animated, and his expression easy and
fluent." In society, except amongst intimate friends, he spoke but
seldom, and was rather disposed to enjoy in silence the gaiety of
those around him. He often seemed altogether occupied with his
own thoughts, or might even have been supposed, from his looks
and gestures, to be '" in the fervour of composition." " He was the
most absent man in company," says Alexander Carlyle, " that I
' An interesting letter of Smith to Dundas (1st November 1779) oa
ftcd trade fur Ireland is printed in the Eng. Hist. Seview^ No. 2,
ALBERT.!
SMITH
171
eTer saw, moving liis lips and talking to liimself and smiling in the
midst of large coMipanies." Wlieii called on to give his opinion of
the matter under diseus^ion he was apt to do so too much in the
manner of a lectnre. Easy and flowing as is the style of his books,
yet to the end he wotc slowly and with dilTiculty ; he did not
usually himself take pen in hand, but dictated to an amanuensis,
whilst he walked up and dowh his apartment. In character he
was sincere and earnest, in manner apparently cold, but capable of
strong feelings, whether of personal alfection or of moral indigna-
tion. His treipient arts of beneficence were marked by delicacy
no less than by liberality. He was a model of filial love and duty,
and took to the last the warmest interest in all that concerned the
welfare of bis friends.
As a moral philosopher Smith cannot be said to have won much
acceptance for his fundamental doctrine. This doctrine is that all
onrmoral sentiments arise from sympathy, that is, from the principle
of our nature "which leads us to enter into the situations of other
men and to partake with them in the passions which those situations
have a tendency to e.xcite." Our direct sympathy with the agent
in the circumstances in which he is placed gives rise, according to
this view, to our notion of the propriety of his action, whilst our
indirect sympathy with those whom his actions have benefited or
injured gives rise to our notions of merit and demerit in the agent
himself. It seems justly alleged against this system by Dr Thomas
Brown that "the moral sentiments, the origin of which it ascribes
to our secondary feelings of mere sympathy, are assumed as previously
existing in the original emotions with which the secondary feelings
are said to be in unison." ' A second objection urged, perhaps with
less justice, against the theory is that it fails to account for the
authoritative character which is felt to be inherent in our sense
of right and wrong — for what Butler calls the "supremacy of
conscience." But those who most Strongly dissent from Smith's
general doctrine are warm in their admiration of the eloquence of
his style — sometimes, however, faulty on the side of redundancy —
and the felicity of his illustrations. In all its minor details, says
Crown, "the work may be considered as presenting a model of
philosophic beauty," and it is universally admitted that the author
has thrown much light on many delicate and subtle phenomena
of our moral nature. The minute observation and the rare ingenuity
which he shows in dealing with the finer traits of character and the
less obvious indications of feeling remind us of the similar qualities
exhibited in a different field in the IVenlth of Nntions.
It is on the latter work that Smith's fame mainly rests. Under
Political Eco.no.my (vol. xix. pp. 365-370) will be found a detailed
analysis of the economic scheme contained in it, and an examina-
tion of its spirit and tendency as a contribution to the philosophy
of society. We have there sulTiciently exposed the exaggeration
which represents Smith as the creator of political economy. But
the lycallh of Xalions is, without doubt, the greatest existing book
on that department of knowledge, the only attempt to replace and
so antiquate it — that of John Stuart Jlill — having, notwithstand-
ing its partial usefulness, on the whole decidedly failed. Buckle,
however, goes too far when he pronounces it "the most important
book ever written," just as he similarly exceeds due measure when
he makes itsauthor superior as a philosopher to Hume. JIackintosh
more justly said of it that it stands on a level with the treatise
Dc Jiurc Belli el Pacts, the Essay on the Unman Understanding, and
the Spirit of Latcs, in the respect that these four works are severally
the most conspicuous landmarks in the progress of the sciences with
which they deal. And, when he added that the IVealth of Stations
was " perhaps the only book which produced an immediate, general,
and irrevocable change in some of the most import;int parts of the
legislation of all civilized states," ho scarcely spoke too strongly if
we understand him as referring to its intluence as nn agent of
demolition. It certainly operated powerfully through the harmony
of its critical side with the tendencies of the half-century which
followed its publication to the assertion of personal freedom and
" natural rights." It discredited the economic policy of the past,
and promoted the overthrow of institutions which liad come down
from earlier times, but weie unsnitcd to modern society. As a
theoretic treatment of social economy, and therefore as a guide to
social reconstruction ami practice in the future, it is provisional,
not definitive. I'ut hero too it has rendered eminent service : it
has establislicd many truths and dissipated many obstinate pre-
judices ; it has raised the views of all thinking men on national
wealth to a higher level ; and, when the study of its subject comes
to be systematized on the basis of a general social philosophy more
complete and durable than Smith's, no contributions to that fiual
construction will be found so valuable as his.
Buckle has the idea that the two principal works of Smith, the
Theory of Moral Sr.nliincnls and the It'enlth if Xalions, tire mutually
complementary parts of one great scheme, in which hianan nature
is intended to be dealt with as a whole, — the former e.\iiiLiting the
operaticui of the benevolent feelings, thclatter of what, by a singular
nomenc lature, inadmissible since llutler wrote, he calls " the passion
of selfishness, " In each division the motor contemplated is regarded
•s acting uingly, without any interference of the opposite principle.
•This appears to be an artificial and misicodir.g notion. Xeither in
tiie plan of Smith's university course nor in the well-known passite
at the end of his Moral Sentiments is there any indication of lus
having conceived such a bipartite scheme. The object of the
)l''callh of Nations is surely in no sense psychological, as is that of
the Mural Sentiments. The purpose of the work is to exhibit sociai
phenomena, not to demonstrate their source iu the mental consti-
tution of the individual. And Buckle. seems to have fallen iut*
the error of confounding "sympathy " with benevolence, or at least
of regarding their spheres as coextensive. It is only in his ethicaJ
treatise that Smith carries back the pursuit of wealth to its ulti-
mate motive ; and, when he does so, instead of tracing it to a sclfisU
principle, which is to be placed in contrast with sympathy, he ex-
pressly declares it to have its origin in "a regard to the sentiments
.of mankind"; in other words, he makes it a consequence of the
desire of sympathy.
In relation to Smith's personality, which is at present our princi-
pal object, it may be observed that his moral featuies are exhibited
in an interesting way in his great work. The most marked charac-
teristics thus rcilec.ted arc his strong sympathy with the working
classes, his contempt for vulgar politics, and his hatred of the spirit
of monopoly, — the last manifesting itself especially in his suspicion
of the public conduct of merchants and manufacturers. The first
of these sentiments breaks but in several places, as in the discussion
of the laws of settlement and in the remarks on combinations, and
notably in the often-quoted passage where he says: "It is but
equity that those who feed, clothe, and lodge the whole body of the
people should have such a share of the produce of their own labour
as to be themselves tolerably well fed, clothed, and lodged." He
has no respect for that " insidious and crafty animal, vu'garly called
a statesman or politician," and complains that the "sneaking
arts of underling tradesmen " are erected into political maxims for
the conduct of a great empire. "All for ourselves and nothing
for other people seems in every age of the world to have been the
vile maxim of the masters of mankind." The project of shutting
out every other nation from a share in the benefits of our colonial
trade he brands as an "invidious and malignant " one. He never
tires of condemning the "mean rapacity," the "monopolizing
spirit," the "impertinent jealousy," tlie " interested sophistry" of
the capitalist class. " Our merchants and manufacturers," he
says— and the remark is not yet out of date — "complain much of
the effect of high wages in raising the price, and thereby lessening
the sale, of their goods both at home and abroad ; they say nothing
concerning the bad effects of high profits ; they are silent with
respect to the pernicious effects of their own gains ; they complain
only of those of other people." " Their interest is never exactly
the same with that of the public ; they have generally an interest to
deceive and even to oppress the public ; and they accordingly have
upon many occasions both deceived and oppressed it." This class
ho regarded, in fact, as corrupting by its selfishness the policy of
the European nations and in particular of England, and as con-
stituting the strength of the opposition, which he feared would be
insu))erable, to a system of commercial freedom. The general im-
pression of its autlior which the book leaves behind it is that of a
large, healthy, and generous nature, earnest in insisting on fair
play for all and prompt to denoun' « with contemptuous vehemence
anything which wore the appearance of injustice.
Our principal authority fur the bioRiaphy of Smith is Pugalil Stcvarfs
Account 0/ his Life and Writing?, originally read (1793) before tlic Royal Society
of Edinburgh, and afterwards prelixed to Smith's Essays on Ph ilosoplt i'cat Subjcctr,
as edited bylilackand Hutton. Additional parlicniarsarc gi\cn in Brougham's
Men 0/ Letters and Science, Burton's Life of Hume, and Alexander Carlylo'n
Autobiography; and some characteristic anecdotes of him will be found in
Memoirs of the Life and Works of Sir John Sinclair t\i'A7). For cornuicnts ou
his Theory of Moral Sentiments, see, besides Stewart, as cited above, Dr T.
lirown's Philosophy of the Human Mind, Iccts. SO and SI ; Sir J. Mackintosh's
Dissertation on the Progress of Ethical Philosophy ; J, A. Karrer's Adan Smith
(ISSl), in the series entitled English Philosophers; and the art. ExHtt^ in the
present work. On the tt'eatth of Nations, the siuucnt may consult the picfnces
toM'Culloch's.Rogers'M, and \irhol,<nr-'a pditions of that work; Rt>gers\ Histori-
cal Cleaninjs (ISO'.i) ; the art. "Smith" In Coquclin and Ciuillaumin's Picd'OB-
nalre de I'Economie Potiti'iue; Bagehot's Econ<imic Studies ^IS^O); anil Cossa's
aiiide to the Study of Political Economy (Eng. trans., ISSO), chap, v., where tho
author has enumerated the most important memoirs by foreign w-iilers on
Smith as an eeononiist. (J. K. I.)
SMITH, Alueut (181G-18G0), an instance of tho jour-
nalistic ratlior than the truly literary type of writer, won
one of tho most poimiar men of his time ; a favourite
humourist in the vein of humeiur then in vogue, but now
alreadv rather out of date ; a leading contributor to Punch ;
the autlior of successful book.s of liglit social satire ; and,
not least, the exponent of " Mont IJIanc " in n prescientific
popular ciitcrtaiiinieiit deacriptive of that famous moun-
tain, lie was born at Chcrtsey, Surrey, on 2-lth >rny
1816, and was educated to follow his faihci'.s profession
of a surgeon. Havin;;, in the course ol hi.t incdicni .>iiidie.'«,
been to the HiHei Dieu, Paris, )iis first literary e(Tort was
an account of liis Ufa there, which ai^rieared in the Mirror
172
SMITH
[A.L£XA^'DER-
From this time he gradually relinquished his medical
work for the more congenial occupation of light literature.
He was associated with Punch from its beginning, and
was also a regular contributor to Bentley's Miscellany, in
whose pages his first and best book, The Adve?i(ures of
Mr Lidhury, first appeared. His other books were A
History of Evening Parties, Christopher Tadpole, issued in
monthly parts, Pottkton's Legacy, and, as a series of so-
caUed natural histories, The Gent, The BaUet Girl, The
Idler upon Toivn, and The Flirt. Albert Smith also wrote
extravaganzas and adapted some of Charles Dickens's stories
for the stage. He conducted too for a time a magazine
called The Man in the Moon, which was discontinued in
1849. In 1851 he visited the Alps and ascended Mont
Blanc, and the year after produced the descriptive enter-
tainment before referred to. "China," a similar enter-
tainment, was afterwards produced, but less successfully.
Smith married in 1859 a daughter of Keeley, the comedian.
He died at Fulham, Middlesex, on 23d ]\Iay 1860, from
an attack of apoplexy.
SMITH, Alexander (1830-1867), was the most pro-
minent representative of the so-called "spasmodic" school
of poetry, whose peculiarities first gained for it a hasty repu-
tation, and then, having suffered under closer critical exa-
mination, it almost as speedily dropped out of mind again.
Smith has never yet perhaps had his true position assigned
to him. His first book, A Life Drama and other Poenis
(1853), which made his name, was a work of real promise.
Although deficient in dramatic grasp of subject, in restraint
of expression, in metrical quality, and although showing
too obviously the influence of Keats and Tennyson in certain
exaggerations of epithet and phrase, the book yet contains
evidence of a poetic faculty which might, under more
fortunate conditions, have developed into genuine power.
Alexander Smith was one of those writers who require the
sritical safeguards of the schools to chasten their somewhat
importunate energies ; and for want of these academic
restrictions he wasted his powers in discursive experiments
of not much abiding value. Born at Kalmarnock on the
iast day of 1830, he received the usual schooling common
at that time ; and, his parents being too poor to send him
to college, he was placed in a linen factory to follow his
father's trade of a pattern designer. His. literary pro-
clivities, however, soon showed themselves, and from time
to time his early poems appeared in the Glasgotv Citizen,
in whose editor, James Hedderwick, he found a sympathiz-
ing and appreciative friend. His poems, having attracted
the attention also of the Rev. George GilfiUan, found
through hira an opening in the London Citizen. A Life
Drama and other Poems, published iii 1853, speedily ran
through several editions, and gained Smith the appoint-
ment of secretary to Edinburgh university in 1854. In
the same year Sydney Dobell, whose name is now familiarly
associated with Smith's, came to Edinburgh, and an ac-
quaintanceship at once sprang up between the two, which
resulted in their collaboration in a book of War Sonnets,
inspired by the Crimean War, which was publLshed in 1 855.
The volumes of verse issued independently by Alexander
Smith in the ensuing years did not receive much attention;
their author then turned himself to prose, after publishing
City Poems in 1857 and Edivin of Deira, a Northumbrian
epic poem, in 1861. His first prose work was Dreamthorpe,
1863; it was followed in 1865 by A Summer in Skye,
which contains his best prose writing, and is full of a quiet
charm and true sympathy with nature. His last work
was an experiment in fiction, Alfred Hagart's Honsehold
(1866), which ran first through Good Words. ■ In this the
same faults of construction, conjoined with the same in-
cidental grace of description, that show themselves in his
larger poems are repeated. The strain produced by his
literary and other work began to tell towards the end of
1866, and his dfsth followed on 5th January 1867.
A memoir of Smith by P. P. Alexander is prefi.xed to a volume
of remains, entitled Last Leaves, in which will bo found a fairly
complete account of his life and writings.
SMITH, CoLViN (1795-1 875),- portrait painter, was bom
at Brechin, Scotland, in 1795. He studied in London in
the schools of the Royal Academy and worked in Nolle-
kens's studio. He then proceeded to Italy, where he exe-
cuted some fine copies from Titian ; and at Antwerp he
made studies from the works of Rubens. Returning to
Scotland in 1827, he settled in Edinburgh, occupying the
house and studio which had formerly belonged to Raebarn.
Soon he attained a \\'ide practice as a portrait-painter, und
among his sitters were Lord Jefirey, Henry Mackenzie,
author of The Man of Feeling, and many of the most cele-
brated Scotsmen of the time. His portrait of Sir Walter
Scott '"'as so popular that he executed some twenty replicas
of it, for seven of which he received fresh sittings. ' His
works are distinguished by excellent draftsmanship, by
directness and simplicity of treatment, and by weU-marked
individuality. He died in Edinburgh on 21st July 1875.
SMITH, Hexey John Stephen (1826-1883), mathema-
tician, was born in Dublin on 2d November 1826 and was
the fourth child of his parents. "When Henry Smith was
just two years old his father died, whereupon his mother
left Ireland for England. Mrs Smith taught her children
herself, and until Henry was over eleven he was undei: her
exclusive care and teaching; after that he was educated
by private tutors till he went to Rugby in 1841. "Whilst
under the first of these tutors, in nine months he read
all Thucydides, Sophocles, and SaUust, twelve books of
Tacitus, the greater part of Horace, Juvenal, Persius, and
several plays of .(Eschylus and Euripides. He also got up
six books of Euclid and some algebra, besides reading a
considerable quantity of Hebrew and learning the Odes
of Horace by heart. On the death of his elder brother in
September 1843 Henry Smith left Rugby, and in the end
of 1844 gained a scholarship at-Balliol College, Oxford.
He won the Ireland scholarship in 1848 and obtained a
first- class in both the classical and the mathematical
schools in 1849. He gained the senior mathematical
scholarship in 1851. He was elected fellow of Balliol in
1850 and Savilian professor of geometry in 1861, and in
1874 was appointed keeper of the university museum.
He was elected F.R.S. in 1861, and was an LL.D. of
Cambridge and Dublin. He served on various royal com
missions, and from 1877 was the chairman of the managing
body of the meteorological office. He died at Oxford on
9th February 1883.
After taking his degree he wavered between classics and mathe-
matics, but finally chose the latter. ■ After publishing a few short
papers relaiing to theory of numbers and to geometry, he devoted
himself to a thorough examination of the writings .of Gauss, Le-
jeune-Dirichlet; Ku'mmer, ic, on the theory ofnumhers. The
main results of these researches, which occupied him from 1854 to
1864, are contained in his Report on the Theory of Numbers, which
appeared in the. British Association volumes from 1859 to 1865.
This report contains not only a complete account of all that had
been done on this vast and intricate subject but also original con-
tributions of his own. Some of the most important results of his
discoveries were communicated to the Royal Society in two memoirs
upon Systems of Linear Indeterminate Equations and Congruences
and upon the Orders and Genera of Ternary Quadratic Forms (/"Ai/.
Trans., 1861 and 1867). He did not, however, coniine himself to
the consideration of form.-! involving only three indeterminates, but
succeeded in establishing the principles on which the extension to
the general case of n indeterminates depends, and obtained the
general formula?, thus effecting what is probably the greatest ad-
vance made in the subject since the publication of Gauss's i>isjMWi-
Uones Arithmetics. A brief abstract. of Smith's methods and re-
sults appeared in the Proc. Eoy. Soc. for 1864 and 1863. In the
second of these notices he gives the general formulae without de-
monstrations. As corollaries to the general formulte he adds the
formulae relating to the representation of a number as a sum of five
JOHX.]
SMITH
173
squares and also of seven squares. Tli;3 class of representation
ceases when the number of snuarcs exceed* ei''l>t. The cases of
two, four, and six squares had been given by Jacobi and tliat of
tbree squares by Eisenstein, who had also given without deinon-
stratiou some of the results for five squares. Fourteen years later
the French Acideniy, in ignorance of Smith's work, set the demon-
stration and completion of Eisenstein's theorems for five squares as
the subject of their "Grand Vrix des Sciences JUtheinatiqucs."
Smith, at the rcciuest of a member of the commission by whiuh the
prize was proposed, undertook in 18S2 to write out the demonstra-
tion of his general theorems so far as was required to prove the re-
sults for the special case of five squares. A month after his death,
in March 1SS3, the prize of 3000 francs was awarded to him. Tlie
fact that a question of which Smith had given the solution in 1867,
as a corollary from general formulae governing the whole class of
investigations to which it belonged, should have been set by the
French Academy as tlie subject of their great -prize shows how far
in advance of his contemporaries his early researches had carried
him. Many of the propositions contained in his dissertation are
general; but the demonstrations are not supplied for the case of
seven squares. He was also the author of important papers in
which he extended to complex ouadratic forms many of Gauss's in-
vestigations relating to real quadratic forms. After 1864 he devoted
himself chiefly to elliptic functions, and numerous papers on this
subject were published by him in the Proc. Land. MaUi. Soc. and
elsewhere. At the time of his death he was engaged upon a memoir
on the Thcttt and Omcrja Funetio:!s, which he left nearly complete.
In 1868 he was awarded the Steiner prize of the Berlin Academy for
% geometrical memoir, Sur qudj)ics prohlimcs<uhiqiies cl hiquadra-
liqucs. He also wrote the introduction to'the collected edition of
Clifford's Mathematical Papers (1832). The three subjects to which
Smith's wi-itings relate are theory of numbers, elliptic functions,
and modern geometry; but in all that he wrote an "arithmetical"
mode of thought is anparent,.his methods and processes being arith-
metical as distinguisned from algebraic. He had the most intense
admiration of Gauss. He was president of the mathematical and
jihysical section of the British Association jit Bradford in 1873 s^nd
of the London Mathematical Society in 1874-76. A memorial edition
of his collected mathematical works is being (1887)' printed by the
Oxford university press.
An article in thcS/r;(a?orof 17th February 1883, written by Lord
Justice Bowen, gives perhaps the best idea of Smith's extraordinary
personal qualities and infinence.his SDund judgment, perfect temper,
gentle and Lielian wisdom, sweetness of character, delicate gaiety
of spirit, and brilliant conversational power, which made him one
of the most accomplished and attractive ornaments of any edu-
cated company in which he moved.
For further details relating to Henry Smith, reference shoulJ be made to
the FortnUjhtly Rcuicw for Hay 16S3 and to the " Monthly Notices" of -the.
Roy. Ast. Soc, vol. xliv.
SMITH, Jam£3 (1775-1839) and Horace (1779-1849),
sons of an eminent and prosperous London solicitor, -were
born, the former on 10th February 1775 and the latter on
31st December 1779, both in London. They were joint
authors of the Rejected Addresses, described by Horace as
" one of the luckiest hits in literature." The occasion of
this happy ie?« d'csprit was the rebuilding of Drury Lane
theatre in 1812, after a fire in which it had been burnt
down. The managers had offered a prize of £50 for an
address to be recited at the reopening in October. Si.K
weeks before that date the happy thought occurred to the
brothers Smith of feigning that the most popular poets
of the time had been among the competitors and issuing a
volume of unsuccessful addresses in parody of their various
styles. They divided the task between them, James taking
Wordsworth, Southoy, Coleridge, apd Crabbe, while Byron,
Moore, Scott, and Bowles were assigned to Horace.^ The
parodists were ready with their small volume by October,
but they had some difficulty in getting a publisher, although
the success of their clever imitations once published v.as
such that seven editions were called for within three
months. The Rejected Addresses are the most widely
popular parodies ever published in England, and Lave
taken quite a classical rank in that kind of literature. The
brothers fairly divided the honours : the elder brother's
Wordsworth is evenly balanced by the youngcr's Scott,
' Tlie p.irticulars of the n>ithor»hip are given in the 18th edition
(1820), and in the memoir of his brother by Horace prefixed to a col-
lection of fugitive pieces (ISIO). James contributed the first stanza
to the imitatiou of Byron, but otherwise they worked independently.
and both had a hand in Byron. A striking feature in the
parodies is the absence of malice ; none of the caricatured
bards took offence, while the imitation is so clever that
both Byron and Scott are recorded to have said in effect
that they could hardly believe they had not written the
addresses ascribed to them.
After this brilliant success James, the elder brother,
determined, as he said, "to leave off a winner "and follow
Warburton's advice to Anstey : " Young man, you have
written a highly successful work ; never put pen to paper
again." He was temjited occasionally to transgress this
self-denying ordinance, and made another hit in ■^Titing
Country Covsins, A Trip to Paris, A Tnp to America,
and other lively skits for Charles Mathews, earning from
the comedian the praise of being " the onlj' man who can
write clever nonsense." His social reputation as a wit
etood high. He was reputed one of the best of conversers
in an age when the art was studied, and it was remarked
that he held his own without falling into the great error
of wits, — sarcasm. But for all his good-nature he did not
wholly escape the Chary bdis of great talkers, — the charge
of being something of a bore. In his old age the irreverent
Fraser's put him in its gallery of living portraits as a gouty
and elderly but painstaking joker. He died in London on
26th December 1839.
Horace Smith was less timorously careful of his poetical
reputation than his elder brother, whom he survived, and,
after making a fortune as a stockbroker, followed in the
wake of Scott and wrote about a score of historical noveb,
— Bramhletye House, Tor Hill, Reuben Apdey, Zillah, The
Neio Forest, Walter Colyton, ic. His sketches of eccentric
character are briUiant"and amusing; but he was more of
an essayist than a story-teller. He began in 1826, when
Scott, still retaining his hold on the public, had made stic-
cess impossible for imitators with less wealth of historical
substance and inferior command of stirring incident. As
he went on he encountered such competitors as Buhver
Lytton, Disraeli, Marryat, and Dickens. Still Horace
Smith established a fair reputation, and some of his novels
may still be found in the smoking-rooms of country houses.
He was also a frequent contributor to the Xew Monthly
Magazine under the editorship of Campbell. Three volumes
of Gaieties and Gravities, published in 1826, contain many
witty essays both in prose and in verse, but the only single
piece that has taken a permanent place is the " Address
to the Mummy in Belzoni's Exhibition." There is more
of earnest in this than is generally found in his jesting.
In private life Horace Smith was not less popular than
his brother, though less ambitious of renown as a talker.
It was of him that Shelley said : " Is it not odd that the
only truly generous person I ever knew who had money
enough to be generous with should be a stockbroker 1
He writes poetry and pastoral dramas and j-et knows how
to make money, and does make it, and is still generous."
Horace Smith died at Tunbridge Wells on 12th July 1849.
SMITH, John (_1 580-1 631), usually distinguished as
Captain John Smith, some time president of the English
colony in Virginia, was the elder son of George Smith, a
well-to-do tenant-farmer on the estate of Lord Willoughby
d'Eresby at Willoughby near Alford in Lincolnshire. The
life of this Virginian hero falls conveniently into five
periods.
The first of these, 1580-1596, that of his early youth,
is thus described by himself in his Travels : " Ho was born
[1580] in Willoughby in Lincolnshire and was a scholar
m the two free schools of Alford and Louth. His parents,
dying [April 1596] when ho was thirteen [or rnth->r fifteen]
years of age, left him a competent means, which he, not
being capable to manage, little regarded. His mind being
even then set upon brave adventures, ho sold his satchel.
174
SMITH
[JOHN.
books, and all he had, intending secretly to get to sea, but
that his father's death stayed him. But now the guardians
of his estate more regarding it than him, he had liberty
enough, though no means, to get'beyond the sea. About
the age of fifteen years, he was bound an apprentice to
Master Thomas Sendall of [ICing's] Lynn, the greatest
merchant of all those parts ; but, because he would not
presently send him to sea, he never saw his master in
eight years after."
The second period, 1596-1604, is that of his adventures
in Europe, Asia, and Africa. He first went to Orleans in
attendance on the second son of Lord Willoughby. Thence
he returned to Paris, and so by Rouen to Havre, where,
his money being spent, he began to learn the life of a
soldier under Henry IV. of France. On the conclusion of
the peace with the League he went with Captain Joseph
Duxbury to Holland and served there some time, probably
with the English troops in Dutch pay. By this time he
had gained a wide experience in the art of war, not merely
as an infantry officer, but also in those more technical
studies which are now followed by the Eoyal Engineers.
At length he sailed from Enkhuisen to Scotland, and on
the voyage had a narrow escape from shipwreck upon
Holy Island near Berwick. After some stay in Scotland
he returned home to AVilloughby, " where, within a short
time being glutted with too much company, w-herein he
took small delight, he retired himself into a little woody
pasture, a good way from any town, environed with many
hundred acres of other woods. Here by a fair brook he
built a pavilion of boughs, where only in his clothes he
lay. His study was Machiavelli's Art of War and Marcus
Aurelius; his exercise a good horse with" his lance and
ring ; his food was thought to be more of venison than
anything else; what [else] he wanted his man brought him.
The country wondering at such a hermit, his friends per-
suaded one Signior Theadora Polaloga, rider to Henry,
earl of Lincoln, an excellent horseman and a noble Italian
gentleman, to insinuate [himself] into his woodish acquaint-
ances, whose languages and good discourse and exercise of
riding drew Smith to stay with him at Tattersall. . . .
Thus, when France and the Netherlands had taught him
to ride a horse and use his arms, with such rudiments of
war as his tender years, in those martial schools, could
attain unto, he was desirous to see more of the world,
and try his fortune against the Turks, both lamenting
and repenting to have seen so many Christians slaughter
one another."
Next came his wanderings through France from Picardy
to Slarseilles. There he took ship for Italy in a vessel
full of pilgrims going to Rome. These, cursing him for a
heretic, and swearing they would have no fair weather so
long as he was on board, threw him, like another Jonah,
into the sea. He was able to get to a little uninhabited
island, from which he was taken off the next morning by a
Breton ship of 200 tons going to Alexandria, the captain
of which, named La Roche, treated him as a friend. In
this ship he visited Egypt and the Levant. On its way
back the Breton ship fought a Venetian argosy of 400
tons and captured it. Reaching Antibes (Var) later on.
Captain La Roche put Smith ashore with 500 sequins,
who then proceeded to see Italy as he had already seen
France. Passing through Tuscany he came to Rome,
where he saw Pope Clement VIII. at mass, and called on
Father R. Parsons. Wandering on to Naples and back to
Rome, thence through Tuscany and Venice, he came to
Gratz in Styria. There he received information about the
Turks who were then swarming throlrgh Hungary, and,
passing on to Vienna, entered the emperor's service.
In this Turkish war the years 1601 and 1602 soon
passed away ; many desperate adventures did he go
througn, .and one in particiilar covered him with great
honour. At Regal (Stuhlweissenburg), in the presence of
two artnies, as the champion of the Christians, he fought
on horseback and killed three Turkish champions in suc-
cession. On 18th November 1602, at the battle of Rothen-
thurm, a pass in Transylvania, where the Christians fought
desperately against an overpowering force of Crim Tatars,
Smith was left wounded on the field of battle. His rich
dress saved him, for it showed that he would be worth a
ransom. As soon as his wounds were cured he was sold
for a slave and then marched to Constantinople, where he
was presented to Charatza Tragabigzanda, who fell in love
with him. Fearing lest her mother should sell him, she
sent him to her brother Timor, pasha of Nalbrits, on the
Don, in Tartary. " To her unkind brother this kind lady
wrote so much for his good usage that he half suspected
as much as she intended ; for she told him, he should there
but sojourn to learn the language, and what it was to be a
Turk, till time made her master of herself. But the Timor,
her brother, diverted all this to the worst of cruelty. For,
within an hour after his arrival, he caused his ' drubman '
to strip him naked, and shave his head and beard so bare
as his hand. A great ring of iron, with a long stalk
bowed like a sickle, was riveted about his neck, and a
coat [put on him] made of ulgry's hair, guarded about
with a piece of an undressed skin. There were many
more Christian slaves, and nearly a hundred forsados of
Turks and Jloors, and he being the last was the slave of
slaves to them all." While at Nalbrits the English captain
kept his eyes open, and his account of the Crim Tatars
is careful and accurate. " So long he lived in this miser-
able estate, as he became a thresher at a grange in a great
field, more than a league from the Timor's house. The
pasha, as he oft used to visit his granges, visited him, and
took occasion so to beat, spurn, and revile him, that for-
getting all reason Smith beat out the Timor's brains with
his threshing bat, for they have no flails, and, seeing his
estate could be no worse than it was, clothed himself in
the Timor's clothes, hid his body under the straw, filled
his knapsack with corn, shut the doors, mounted his horse,
and ran into the desert at all adventure." For eighteen
or nineteen days he rode for very life until he reached a
Muscovite outpost on the river Don ; here his irons were
taken off him, and the Lady Callamata largely supplied
all his wants. Thence he passed, attracting all the sym-
pathy of an escaped Christian slave, through Muscovy,
Hungary, and Austria until he reached Leipsic in Decem-
ber 1603. There he met his old master, Prince Sigismund,
who, in memory of his gallant fight at Regal, gave him
a grant of arms and 500 ducats of gold. Thence ha
wandered on, sightseeing, through Germany, France, and
Spain, until he came to Saffi, from which seaport he made
an excursion to the city of Morocco and back.
While at Safii he was blown out to sea on board Captain
Merham's ship, and had to go as far as the Canaries.
There Merham fought two Spanish ships at once and beat
them off. Smith came home to England with him. having
a thousand ducats in his purse.
The third period, 1605-1609, is that of Captain Smith's
experiences in Virginia.* Throwing himself into the colon-
izing projects which were then coming to the front, he
■ first intended to have gone out to the colony on the
Oyapok in South America ; but. Captain Ley dying, and
the reinforcement miscarrying, "the rest escaped as they
could." Hence Smith did not leave England on this
account. But he went heartily into the Virginian project
with Captain Bartholomew Gosnold and others. He
states that what he got in his travels he spent in colon-
izing. " When I went first to these desperate designs, it
cost me many a forgotten pound to hire men to go, and
JOHN. I
SMITH
175
[jrocrastination caused more to run away man went. I
have spared neither pains or money according to niy ability,
first to procure His Majesty's letters patents, and a com-
pany here, to be the means to raise a company to go with
me to Virginia, which beginning here and there cost me
nearly five years' [1604-1609] work, and more than five
hundred pounds of my o'\\'n estate, besides all the dangers,
miseries, and incumbrances I endured gratis." Two colon-
izing associations were formed, — the London Company
for South Virginia and the Western Company for North
Virginia. 'Smith was one of the founders of the London
Company. The colonies which Sir W. Kaleigh had estab-
lished at Roanoke and other islands off the American
coast had all perished, mainly for want of a good harbour,
so that really nothing at all was known of the Virginian
coast-line when the first expedition left London on 19th
December 1606; and therefore the attempt was bound
to fail unless a convenient harbour should be found. The
expedition consisted of three ships (the " Susan Constant,"
100 tons, Captain C. Newport; the "God Speed," 40
tons. Captain B. Gosnold ; and a pinnace of 20 tons.
Captain J. Ratcliife), with about 140 colonists and 40
sailors. They made first for the West Indies, reaching
Dominica on 24th March 1607. At NevLs, their next
stopping place, a gallows was erected to hang Captain
Smith on the false charge of conspiracy ; but he escaped,
and, though afterwards the lives of all the men who
l)lotted against him were at his mercy, he spared them.
Sailing northwards from the AVest Indies, not knowing
where they were, the expedition was most fortunately, in
a gale, blown into the mouth of Chesapeake Bay, discover-
ing land on 26th April 1607. Anchoring, they found the
James river, and, having explored if, fixed upon a site for
their capital in the district of the chief or weroance of
Paspaheh, its chief recommendation being that there were
6 fathoms of water so near to the shore that the ships
could be tied to the trees. Orders had been sent out for
the government of the colony in a box, which was opened
on 26th April 1607. Captains B. Gosnold, E. M. AVing-
iield, C. Newport, J. Smith, J. Ratcliffe, J. Martin, and
G. Kendall were named to be the council to elect an
annual president, who, with the council, should govern.
Wingfield was, on 13th May, elected the first president;
and the next day they landed at James Town and com-
menced the settlement.
All this while Smith was under restraint, for thirteen
weeks in all. His enemies would hare sent him home,
out of a sham commiseration for him; but he challenged
their charges, and so established his innocency that
Wingfield was adjudged to give him £200 as damages.
After this, on 20th June 1607, Smith was admitted to
the council.
As in going to America in those days the great diffi-
culty was want of water, so in those colonizing efi"orts
the paramount danger was from want of food. "There
were never Englishmen left in a foreign country in such
misery as we were in this new discovered Virginia. We
watched every three nights [every third night], lying on
the bare cold ground, what weather soever came, and
warded all the next day, which brought our men to be
most feeble wretches. Our food was but a small can of
barley sodden in water to five men a day. Our drink,
cold water taken out of the river, which was, at a flood,
very salt, at a low tide, full of slimo and filth, which
was the destruction of many of our men." So great was
the mortality that out of 105 colonists living on the 22d
June 1607 C7 died by the following 8th January. The
country they had settled in was sparsely populated by
many small tribes of Indians, who owned as their para-
mount chief, Powhatan, who then lived at Werowocomoco,
a village on the Pamunkey river, about 12 miles by land
from James Town. Various boat expeditions left James
Town, to buy food in exchange for copper. They generally
had to fight the Indians first, to coerce them to trade, but
afterwards paid a fair price for what they bought.
On 10th December 1607 Captain Smith, of- whom it
is said "the Spaniard never more greedily desired gold
than he victail," with nine men in the barge, left James
Town to get more corn, and also to explore the upper
waters of the Cbickahominy. They got the barge up as
far as Apocant. Seven men were left in it, with orders
to keep in midstream. They disobeyed, went into the
village, and one of them, George Cassen, was caught ;
the other six, barely escaping to the barge, brought it
back to James Town. It so happened that Opecanohan-
ough (the brother of Powhatan, whcia he succeeded in
1618, and who carried out the great massacre of the
English on Good Friday 1622) was in that neighbourhood
with two or three hundred Indians on a hunting expedi-
tion. He ascertained from Cassen where Smith was, who,
ignorant of all this, had, with Jehu Robinson and Thomas
Emery, gone in a canoe 20 miles farther up the river.
The Indians killed Robinson and Emery while they were
sleeping by the camp fire, and went after Smith, who was
away getting food. They surprised him, and, though he
bravely defended himself, he had at last to surrender.
He then set his wits to confound them with his superior
knowledge, and succeeded. Opecanchanough led him
about the country for a wonder, and finally, about 5th
January 1608, brought him to Powhatan at Werowoco-
moco. "Having feasted him after their best barbarous
manner they could, a long consultation was held ; but the
conclusion was two great stones were brought before
Powhatan ; then as many as could laid hands on Smith,
dragged him to them, and thereon laid his head. And,
being ready with their clubs to beat out his brains, Poca-
hontas, the king's dearest daughter, when no entreaty could
prevail, got his head in her arms and laid her own upon
his to save him from death. WTiercat the emperor was
contented Smith should live, to make him hatchets, and
her bells, beads, and copper ; for they thought him as W'cll
of all occupations [handicrafts] as themselves."
The truth of this story was never doubted till 1866, when
the eminent antiquary, Dr Charles Deano of Cambridge,
Mass., in reprinting Smith's first book, the True Relation
of 1609, pointed out that it contains no reference to this
hairbreadth escape. Since then many American historians
and scholars have concluded that it never happened at all ;
and, in order to be consistent, they have tried to prove
that Smith was a blustering braggadocio, which is the
very last thing that could in truth be said of him. The
rescue of a captive doomed to death by a woman is not
such an unheard-of thing in Indian stories. If the truth
of this deliverance be denied, how then did Smith come
back to James Town loaded with presents, when the other
three men were killed, George Cassen in particular, in a
most horrible manner] And how is it, sujiposing Smith's
account to be false, that Pocahontas afterwards frequently
came to James Town, and was next to Smith himself the
salvation of the colony? The fact is, nobody doubted the
story in Smith's lifetime, and he had enemies enough.'
' Pocahont.is never visiteJ James Town after Sniitli went to Ent;I.inil
in October 1609, until she was brought tlitro a stale prisoner in Ajiril
1613 by Captain S. Argall, who ha-l obtained possession of her by
treachery on the Potomac river. Tlio colony, while treating her well,
used her as a means to secure peace with llic Indians. In the mean-
time, believing Smith to be dead, sho fell in love with an Englivh
gentleman, John Rolfe, apparently at tliat time a wiilowir. Tlay
were married about 1st April Kill. Subsequently slie embmced
Christianity. Sir T. Dale, with Kolfe and his wife, landed at Ply-
mouth ou 12th Juno 1018. Before sho reached Loudou, Siuith
176
SMITH
[JOHM-
Space fails to describe how splendidly Smith worked
after his deliverance for the good of the colony, how he
explored Chesapeake Bay and its influents, how (when all
others had failed) the presidency was forced on him on
10th September 1608 ; how he tried to seize Powhatan at
Werowocomoco. on 12th January 1609, but he fled to
Orapakes, 40 miles farther off'; how with only eighteen men
he cowed Opecanchanough in his own house at Pamunkey,
in spite- of the hundreds of Indians that were there, and
made him sell corn ; how well he administered the colony
all through the spring and summer of 1609.
Meanwhile the establishment of this forlorn hope in
Virginia had stirred up a general interest in England, so
that the London Company were able in June 1609 to send
out 9 ships with 500 colonists. Smith had now got the
Indians into splendid order ; but from the arrival on 11th
August of the newcomers his authority came to an end.
They refused to acknowledge him, and robbed and injured
the Indians, who attacked them in turn. Smith did his
best to smooth matters, while the rioters were plotting to
shoot him in his bed. In the meantime he was away up
the river. On his return, "sleeping in his boat, acci-
dentally one fired his powder bag, which tore his flesh
from his body and thighs, 9 or 10 inches square, in a
most pitiful manner ; but to quench the tormenting fire
frying him in -his clothes he leaped overboard into the
deep river, where, ere they could recover him, he was
nearly drowned." Thus disabled, he was sent home on
4th October 1609 and never set foot in Virginia again.
Nemesis overtook the rioters the winter after he left,
which is known in Virginian story as ''the starving time."
Out of 490 persons in the colony in October 1609 all
but 60 died by the following March.
-The rest of Smith's life can only be briefly touched upon.
The third period, 1610-1617, was chiefly spent in discover-
ing Nusconcus, CanaHa, and Pemaquid in North Virginia, to
which, at his solicitation. Prince Charles gave the name of
New England. His first object was to fish for cod and
barter for furs, his nest, to discover the coast-line with the
view to settlement. Two attempts, in 1615 and 1617, to
settle at Capawuck failed, but through no fault of his.
It was in connexion with these projects that the Western
Company for North Virginia gave him the title of admiral
of New England. We cannot better conclude this sketch
of his active operations than in his own words printed in
1631. "Having been a slave to the Turks; prisoner
among the most barbarous savages ; after my deliverance
commonly discovering and. ranging those- large rivers
and unknown nations with such a handfulof ignorant
companions that the wiser sort often gave me up for lost ;
always in mutinies, wants, and miseries ; blown up with
gunpowder; a long time a prisoner among the French
pirates, from whom escaping in a little boat by myself,
and adrift all such a stormy winter night, when their
ships'were split, more than £100,000 lost which they had
taken at sea, and most of them drowned upon the I«!e of
Khe — not far from whence I was driven on shore, in my
little boat, &c. And many a score of the worst winter
months have [I] lived in the fields ; yet to have li\-Bd near
thirty-seven years [1593-1G30] in the midst of wars, pesti-
lence, and famine, by which many a hundred thbui-and have
died about me, and scarce five living of them that went
first with me to Virginia, and yet to see the fruits of my
labours thus well begin to prosper (though I have but my
petitioned Queen Anne on her behalf ; and it is in this [ jtition of
June 1616 tli,at the ailcount of his deliverance by the Indian girl first
appears. After a pleasant sojourn of about seven months, being well
received both by the court and the people, Pocahontas with her
husband embarked for Virginia in the Gcorr/e, Captain S. Argall (her
old oaptor^ iut »ke (liedjjlf Gravesend about February 1617.
labour for my pains), have I not much reason, both privately
and publicly to acknowledge it, and give God thanks ? "
The last period, 1618-1631, of Smith's life was chiefly
devoted to authorship. In 1618 he apphed (in vain) to
Lord Bacon to be numbered among his servants. In 1619
he oflfered to lead out the pilgrim fathers to North Virginia ;
but they would not have him, he being a Protestant and
they Puritans. • The London Virginia. Company became
bankrupt for £200,000 in 1624. A list of his publications
wUl be found at the end of this article. Thus having
done much, endured much, and written much, while still
contemplating a History of the Sea, Captain John Smith
died on 2lst June 1631, and was buried in St Sepulchre's
Church, London.
Two of the sixty survivors of "the starving time,"
Richard Pots and William Phettiplace, thus nobly ex-
pressed in print, so early as 1612, their estimate of Smith:
"What shall I say? but thus we Jost him [4th October
1609] that in all his proceedings made justice his first
guide and experience his second ; ever hating baseness,
sloth, pride, and indignity more than any dangers; that
never allowed more for himself than his -souldiers with
him ; that upon no danger would send them where he
would not lead them himself; that would never see us
want what he either had, or could by any means get us ;
that would rather want than borrow or starve than not pay;
that loved actions more than words, and hated falsehood
and cozenage than death ; whose adventures were our lives,
and whose loss our deaths."
A fairly complete bibliography will be found in Professor Edward
Arber's reprint of Smith's li'orks, Birmingham, 188i, 8vo. The
order of their first appearance is, A True Jielation, &c. , 1608 (first
attributed to a gentleman of the colony, next to 'Th. Watson, and
finally to Captain Smith) ; J Map of Virginia, ed. by ■\V[illiam]
S[immonds], Oxford, 1612 ; A Description of JS'ew England, 1616 ;
New England's Trials, 1620; New England's Trials, 2d ed., 1622;
The General ffistoiy of Virginia, New England, and the Summer
Isles, 162i ; An Accidence for all young Seamen, 1626 ; the same
work recast and enlarged as A Sea Grammar, 1627, both works
continuing on sale for years, side by side; The True Travels, kc,
1630; AdveHiscm:nts for the Unexperienced Planters, kc, 1631.
Of. some of the smaller texts limited 4to editions have beeo
published .in the United States by Dr C. Deane, J. Carter Brown,
and others. (E. A.)
SMITH, John Raphael (1752-1812); English painter
and mezzotint engraver, a son of Thomas Smith of Derby, the
landscape painter, was born in 1752. He was apprenticed
to a linen draper in Derby, and afterwards pursued the
same: business in London, adding, hoft-ever, to his income
by the production of miniatures. He then turned to
engraving, and executed his plate of the Public Ledger,
which had great popularity, and was followed by his
mezzotints of Edwin the Minstrel (a portrait of Thomas
Haden), after AVright of Derby, and Mercury Inventing
the Lyre, after Barry. He reproduced some forty of the
works of Reynolds, some of these plates ranking among
the masterpieces of the art of mezzotint, and he was ap-
pointed engraver to the Prince of Wales. Adding to his
artistic pursuits an extensive connexion as a print-dealer
and publisher, he w'ould soon have acquired wealth had
it not been for his dissipated habits. He was passionately
attached to field Kj«>rti, pngilism, and the stage, and was
a boon companion of George Morland, whose figure-pieces
he excellently mezzotinted. He executed -many original
portraits in chalks, and painted subject-pictures such as
the Unsuspecting MaiJ, I::.attenti"n, and the Moralist,
exbibitin? in the Royal Academy from 1779 to 1790.
Upon the decline of his business as a printseller he made
a tour as an itinerant portrait painter through the northern
and midland counties of England, producing much hasty
and iudiflFerent work, and settled in Doncaster, whce he
died on 2d March 1812.'
As a mezzotint engraver Smith occupies the Very first rsJik. Ilii
'sYDJfUY.]
SMITH
1Z7
prints are delicate, excellent in drawing, and finely expressive of
colour. His small fuU-len^tlis in crayons and bis portraits of Fox,
Home Tooke, Sir Francis Burdctt, and the group of the duke of
Devonshire and family support his claims as a successful drafts-
man and painter. He was possessed of a verj' thorough knowledge
of the principles and history of art and was a brilliant conversa-
tionalist.
SMITH, Joseph. See Mormons.
SMITH, Sydney (1771-1845), one of the fotmders of the
Ediiihurgh Review, and one of the wittiest talkers and
political writers of his generation, was the son of an English
country gentleman, and was born at Woodford in Essex on
3d June 1 77 1. His father, a man of restless ingenuity and
activity, "very clever, odd by nature, but still more odd by
design," who bought, altered, spoiled, and sold about nine-
teen different estates in England, had talent and eccentricity
enough to be the father of such a wit as Sydney Smith on the
strictest principles of heredity ; but Sydney was wont him-
self to attribute not a little of his constitutional gaiety to an
infusion of French blood, his maternal grandfather being
a French Protestant refugee of the name of Oilier, who
could not speak a word of English. Sydney was the second
of a family of four brothers and one sbter, all remarkable
for their talents. While two of the brothers, "Bobus"
and Cecil, were sent to Eton, Sydney was sent with the
youngest to Winchester, where he rose to be captain of the
school, and with his brother so distinguished himself that
their schoolfellows signed a round-robin " refusing to try
for the college prizes if the Smiths were allowed to contend
for them any more, as they always gaine4 them." From
Winchester Sydney went to New College, Oxford, and in
due course became a fellow of his college. It was his wish
then to read for the bar, but his father would add nothing
to his fellowship, and he was reluctantly compelled to
enter the church, and became a curate in a small village
in the midst of Salisbury Plain. From this dreary in-
cumbency he was relieved after two years, and conducted
to the scene of the foundation of the Edinburgh Review by
a combination of accidents. The squire of the parish in-
vited the new curate to dine, was astonished and charmed
to find such a man in such a place, and engaged him after
a time as tutor to his eldest son. " It was arranged," he
afterwards said, " that I and his sop should proceed to the
univefsity of Weimar. We set out, but before reaching
our destination' Germany was disturbed by war, and in
stress of politics we put into Edinburgh!" This was in 1797.
In Edinburgh, as everywhere else. Smith made numer-
ous friends, whose cordiality was in no way abated by his
constant quizzing of the national foibles and peculiarities ;
and among those friends were the future Edinburgh Re-
viewers. It was towards the end of his five years' residence
in Edinburgh, in the elevated residence of the then Mr
Jeflfroy, " in the eighth or ninth story or flat in a house in
Buccleuch Place," that Sydney Smith proposed the setting
up of a review as an organ for the ojiinions and a vehicle
for the ambition of the young malcontents with things as
they were. " I was appointed editor," he says in the
preface to the collection of his contributions, "and remained
long enough in Edinburgh to edit the first number [October
1802] of the Edinburgh Review. The motto I proposed for
the Review was ' Tenui m,usam meditamur avona ' — ' We
enltivat« literature on a little oatmeal.' But this was too
near the truth to be admitted, and so wo took our present
grave motto from Publius Syrus, of whom none of us had,
I am sure, ever r°ad a single lino." He continued to write
for the Review for the next quarter of a century, and his
brilliant articles were a main element in its success. They
represent the very perfection of journalism. They were
not merely the most readable, the most entertaining : the
*olidity of substance and the seriousness of purpose were
^uite as indisputable as the brilliancy of the execution.
22-9
The writer seemed to tackle the gravest of political and
social questions in the highest of spirits, yet lie never lost
sight of his aim in purposeless buflfoonery ; and, however
heartily the reader might be made to laugh, the laughter
was always directed at what seemed to the writer absurd
and unreasonable opinion. It was remarked of his wit in
conversation that the butts of it were often seen to laugh
as heartily as the audience ; there was nothing base and
personal in Sydney Smith's raillery. The same with his
writing when it was anonymous. His wonderful powers
of humorous exaggeration were such as to detach a ridicu-
lous opinion as far as possible from its human incarnation
and present it in the bare essence of its absurdity. This
was his habjt as a controversialist ; and, when his purpose
was simply to convey information, to give the gist of a
book of travels, or a system of education, or a body of
statistics, he was unequalled in the art of amusing the
reader with ludicrous ♦iniages in the most unexpected
places without departing from the main lines of a most
clear, orderly, and instructive exposition. The fact is that
the serious didactic purpose in all Sydney Smith's writing
and the closeness of his adherence to the matter in hand
are the main obstacles to the living permanence of his fame
as the writer of the best colloquial prose of his generation ;
for though his range of topics was wide — political, ecclesi-
astical, educational, geographical, and otherwise miscellane-
ous— they were all of immediate, practical, and passing
interest, and his remarks were pushed home to the life of
the time so closely as to have comparatively little inde-
pendent interest for posterity.
Most of Sydney Smith's contributions to the Edinburgh
Review were sent from the country parish of Foston-le-Clay
in Yorkshire, where he spent the best part of his life. He
left Edinburgh for good in 1803, when the education of
his pupUs was completed ; and, yielding to his wife's con-
fidence in his powers — he had married Miss Pybus, an
English lady of good family, while still unsettled in life —
adventured on London, where he rapidly became known
as a preacher, a lecturer, and a social lion. His success
as a preacher, although so marked that there was often
not standing room in the church in Berkeley Square, where
he conducted the morning service, was not gained by any
sacrifice of dignity : there was no eccentricity, nothing
sensational in his preaching; it was a pure triumph of
good sense, right feeling, earnestness, and freshness of
pulpit oratory. He lectured on moral philosophy at the
Royal Institution for three seasons, from 1804 to 1808;
and here also, handling the ordinary topics of a philosophy
chair in a Scotch university, he treated them with such
vigour, freshness, and liveliness of illustration that the
London world crowded to Albemarle Street to hear him.
He made no pretence to originality, and in the main
followed Dugald Stewart, whose lectures he had attended
in Edinburgh ; but there is more originality as well as
good sense in his lectures, especially on such topics as
imagination and wit and hiunour, than in many more pre-
tentious systems of philosophy. With the brilliant re-
putation that Sydney Smith had acquired in the course of
a few seasons in London, he would probably have obtained
some good preferment had ho been on the powerfid side
in politics. His Whig friends came into office for a short
time in 1806, and presented him with the living of Foston-
le-Clay in Yorkshire. He shrank from this banishment
for a time, and discharged his parish duties through a
curate ; but Mr Pcrcival's Residence Act was passed in
1808, and, after trying in vain to negotiate an exchange,
ho quitted London in 1809 and moved his household to
Yorkshire. His most famous single production, PtUr
Plt/mtey's Letters on the subject of Catholic emancipation,
ridiculing the opposition of the country tlorgy, appeMwl
178
SMITH
[williajl]
before this migration. From telng the idol of London
society to being the pastor of a country parish ■with no
educated neighbour within 7 miles was a violent change ;
but Sydney Smith accommodated himself cheerfully to his
new circumstances, and won the hearts of his parishioners
as quickly as he had conquered a wider world. Not the
least entertaining chapter in his daughter's biography
of him is the account of his Yorkshire life. An interest-
ing contrast might be drawn between it and Carlyle's life
in somewhat similar circumstances at Craigenputtock.
Sydney Smith's life at Foston, with its cheerful energy
and ingenuity, its vigorous jesting at difficulties and eccen-
tric ways of conquering them, is of much better example,
and moralists might do worse than put the story into form
for general edification.^
Sydney Smith, after twenty years' service in Yorkshire,
obtained preferment at last from a Tory minister. Lord
Lyndhurst, who presented him with a canonry in Bristol
cathedral in 1828, and afterwards enabled him to exchange
Foston for the living of Combe Florey near Taunton. From
this time he discontinued writing for the Edinburgh Review
on the ground that it was more becoming in a dignitary
of the church to put his name to what he wrote. It was
expected that when the Whigs came into power Sydney
Smith would be made a bishop. There was nothing in
his writings, as in the case of Swift, to stand in the way,
for with all his humour and high spirits he had always, as
he said himself, fashioned his manners and conversation
so as not to bring discredit on his reverend profession.
He had been most sedulous as a parochial clergyman.
Still, though he was not without warm friends at head-
quarters, the opposition was too strong for them. One of
the first things that Lord Grey said on entering Downing
Street was, "Now I shall be able to do something for
Sydney Smith " ; but he was not able to do more than
appoint him to a prebendal stall at St Paul's in exchange
for the one of inferior value he held at Bristol. Lord
Melbourne is reported to have said that there was nothing
he more regretted than the not having made Sydney Smith
a bishop. Some surprise must be felt now that Sydney
Smith's reputation as a humourist and wit should have
caused any hesitation about elevating him to the episcopal
dignity, and' perhaps he was right in thinking that the
feal obstacle lay in his being kno'mi as "a high-spirited,
honest, uncompromising man, whom all the bench of bishops
could not turn upon vital questions." With characteristic
philosophy, when he saw that the promotion was doubt-
ful, he made his position certain by resolving not to be a
bishop and definitely forbidding his friends to intercede
lor him. This loss and the much more painful loss of his
eldest son did not destroy the cheerfulness of his later life.
He retained his high spirits, his wit, practical energy, and
powers of argumentative ridicule to' the last. His Letters
to Archdeacon Singleton on the Ecclesiastical Commission
(1837), and his Petition and Letters on the repudiation of
debts by the State of Pennsylvania (1843), are as bright
and trenchant as his best contributions to the Edinburgh
Review. Smith died in London on 22d February 1845.
Lady Holland's Memoir of her father, containing such specimens
of his table talk as give one some idea of his charm and worth as a
mirthful companion and philosopher, is one of the most interest-
ing of biograohies. A cheap edition of his Works was published
in 1869. (\V. M.)
SMITH, Sis Thomas (1512-1577), the contemporary
and friend of Sir John Cheke, was born at Saffron -Walden
in Essex in 1512. He became a fellow of Queens' College,
Cambridge, in 1531, and was afterwards appointed to read
the public Greek lecture, in the discharge of which function
• See Lady Holland's J/cniotr, chaps, v., vi. Lady Holland, Sydney
Smith's eldest daughter, was the wife of Sir Henry Holland, the famous
phytician, — not of Lord Holland, as is sometimes absurdly stated.
he first introduced the new Greek pronunciation, which soon
became universal in England. After studying in France
and Italy and taking a degree in law at Padua, he was
appointed first regius professor of civil law in Cambridge
in 1542. During Somerset's protectorate he entered public
life and was sent as ambassador first to Brussels and after-
wards to France. In 1548 he was made a secretary of
state and knighted. On the accession of Mary he was
deprived of all his offices, but in the succeeding reign was
frequently employed in public affairs. He died in 1577.
His best-known work, entitled De Rcpvblica Anglorum: the
Maner of Goivnuncnl or Policie of the Rcaline of England, was pub-
lished posthumously in 1583, and passed through many editions.
His epistle to Gardiner, Dc recta cl cmcndala Ungitx Ormcm pr«-
iiicncintionc,v;as printed at Paris in 1568 ; the same volume includes
his dialogue Z>c recta ct cmcndata lingua> Anglicanm scHptionc.
SMITH, William (1769-1839), called "the father of
English geology," and among his acquaintances "Stratum
Smith," will be generally remembered as the framer and
author of the first complete geological map of England and
Wales, and as the discoverer of the principle of the identifi-
cation of strata by their included organic remains. He was
born at Churchill in Oxfordshire on 23d March 1769. De-
prived of his father, an ingenious mechanic, before he was
eight years old, he depended upon his father's eldest
brother, who was but little pleased with his nephew's love
of collecting " pundnhs" (Terebralvlie) and " pound-stoneS "
or " quoit-stones " (large Echinites, frequently employed as
a pound weight by dairywomen), and ha.d no sympathy
with his propensity for caj-ving sundials on the soft brown
"oven-stone" of his neighbourhood. William became a
mineral surveyor and civil engineer. In the former capa-
city he traversed the Oolitic lands of Oxfordshire and
Gloucestershire, the Lias clays and red marls of Warwick-
shire, and other districts, studying their varieties of strata
and soils. In 1791 he surveyed an estate in Somersetshire
and observed the strata of the district. In 1793 he executed
the surveys and completed the levellings for the line of a
proposed canal, in the course of which he confirmed a
previous supposition, that the strata lying above the coal
were not horizontal, but inclined in one direction — to the
eastwards — so as to terminate successively at the surface,
and to resemble on a large scale the ordinary disposition
of the slices of bread and butter on a breakfast plate — an
illustration which he was wont to use on all occasions.
On being appointed engineer to the Somerset Coal Canal
in 1794, he was deputed to make a tour of observation
with relation to inland navigation. During this tour,
which occupied nearly two months, and extended over 900
miles, he carefully examined the geological structure of
the country, and corroborated his preconceived generaliza-
tion of a settled order of succession in the several strata,
a continuity of range at the surface, and a general declina,-
tion eastwards. Five years subsequently he prepared a
tabular view of the Order of the Strata, and their embedded
Organic Remains, in the neighbourhood of Bath, examined
and proved prior to 1799, From this period to 1812 he
was completing and arranging the data for his large
Geologiccd Map of England and Wales, with part of Scot-
land, which appeared in 1815, in fifteen sheets, engraved
on a scale of 5 miles to 1 inch. The map was reduced
to smaller form in 1819; and from/ this date to 1822
separate county geological maps were published in succes-
sive years, the whole constituting a Geological Atlas cf
England and Wales. In January 1831 the Geological
Society of London conferred on Smith the first Wollaston
medal ; and the Government, at. the request of several
English geologists, conferred upon him a life-pension of
£100 per annum. The degree of LL.D. he received from
Dublin, at the meeting of the British Association in that
city in 1835. At such meetings he was nearly alva^
b M 1 — S M O
179
present. In 1P3S he was appointed one of the commis-
sioners to select building stone for the new Houses of
Parliament. The last years of his life were spent at
Hackness (of which he made a good geological map), near
Scarborough, and in the latter town. His usually robust
health failed in 1839, and oh 28th August of that year
he died at Northampton. He once said he was born on
the Oolite, and should wish to be buried on it; and so
he was, at Northampton.
His iUmcirs by Professor John Phillips appeared in 1844.
SMITH, William Henry (1808-1872), best known as
the author of Thomdale, is one cf those thinkers and
students whose work, whilst scarcely recognized in their
own day and soon all but overlooked in the larger per-
spective of history, is yet of real value for an appreciation
of the intellectual character of the time. The literary pro-
duction of which Thomdale is the most representative
example affords a moral countenance to contemporary
workers in philosophy which is invaluable, but which for
obvious reasons can never be exactly appraised. With a
fine and reflective, rather than robust and active, intel-
ligence, Smith deals suggestively in the form of conversa-
tion— which he adopts in Thomdale and in his later book
Gravenhurst — with the problem of good and evil, with
materialism and idealism, with most of the subtle modem
perplexities in the interaction of religion, philosophy, and
science. But his more exact contributions to thought,
such as the Discourse on the Ethics of ike School of Pahy
and the Essays on Knowing and Feeling, do not work out
anjrthing like a complete system, and are somewhat lacking
in intellectual grip. Smith also wrote several books of
verse and two plays, one of which, Athelwold, was produced
by Macready in -1842. Much graceful reflexion and a
true feeling for nature are found in his verse, but it lacks
energy. Smith spent a serene uneventful life, chiefly in
the studious seclusion which he loved, but which must
have tended to foster the inactive tendencies that led him
to call himself pla3ffully in his latter days "the snail."
He was born at Hammersmith in 1808 in comfortable sur-
roundings, his father being a retired merchant ; his mother
was of German extraction, with a vein of mysticism, which
is worth noticing in view of the son's metaphysical tend-
encies. He was sent in 1821 to Glasgow, %vhere Bjrron's
poetry and Scottish metaphysics seem to have had most
influence upon him. Then he entered a la\vyer's office, in
which he remained for five year.s. His first writings ai>
peared in the Literary Gazette and in the Athenxum, to
which he contributed under the name of " Wool-gatherer,"
attracting some attention by the delicacy and finish of
his style. His aimbition was at the outset chiefly poetical,
however, and, when his first book appeared and was almost
completely ignored, he dug a grave and buried the unsold
copies in a fit of Byronic despondency. Ernesto, a philo-
sophical romance, also belongs to this early period. In
1836 he wrote for the Quarterly Review, and in 1839 he
formed a connexion with Blackwood's Magazine, which
lasted for thirty years, during the latter part of which
he acted as its philosophical critic. In 1846 a visit to
Italy led to the writing of a tale entitled Mildred, which
was too purely reflective to bo successful. In 18.51 he
declined the chair of moral philosophy at Edinburgh,
having determined a year or two previously to retire to the
English Lake district, there to study in seclusion. There
he completed Thomdale, which was published in 1857.
Gravenhurst appeared in 1862 ; a second edition contained
a memoir of the author by his wife. He died at Brighton,
on 28th March 1872.
SMITH, Sir William Sidney (1764-1840), English
admiral, was the second son of Captain John Smith of
tbe Guards, and- was born at Westminster on 21 at July
1764. He entered the nax-y, according to his own account,
"at the beginning of the American War," being only
about eleven years of age. For his bravery under Rodney
in the action near Cape St Vincent in January 1780, ho
was on 25th September appointed lieutenant of the
" Alcide." After serving in the actions against the French
fought by Graves off Chesapeake in 1781 and by Rodn^
at the Leeward Islands in 1782, he was on 6th May of
the latter year promoted to be commander of the " Fury °
sloop, and on 18th October advanced to the rank of
captain. His ship having been paid off in the beginning
of 1784, he spent two years in France and afterwards
visited Spain. From 1790 to 1792 he was employed ia
advising the king of Sweden in the war with Russia,
receiving for his services the honour of knighthood.
After his return to England he was sent on a mission to
Constantinople, and, having joined Lord Hood at Toulon
from Smj-rna in December 1793, ho burnt the enemy's
ships and arsenal. In the following years he cleared the
Channel of French privateers; but, having with the boats of
his squadron boarded in Havre-de-Grace harbour a lugger
which was driven by the tide above the French forts, he
was on 19th April 1796 compelled to surrender and sent
a prisoner to Paris. By means of forged orders for his
removal to another prison he made his escape from the
Temple, and, crossing the Channel in a small skiff picked
up at Havre, arrived in London on 8th May 1798. In Octo-
ber he was sent as plenipotentiary to Constantinople.
Learning of Buonaparte's approach to St Jean d'Acre, he
hastened to its relief, and on 16th March 1799 captured the
enemy's flotilla, after which he successfully defended the
town against several furious attacks of the French, compel-
ling Napoleon on 20th May to raise the siege and retreat
in disorder, leaving all his artillery behind. For this bril-
liant exploit he received the special thanks of the Houses
of Parliament and was awarded an annuity of £1000.
Subsequently he co-operated with Abercromby, under whom
he served as brigadier-general at the battle of Aboukir,
where he was wounded. On his return to England he was
in 1802 elected M.P. for the city of Rochester. In March
1 803 he was commissioned to watch the preparations of the
French for an invasion of England. Having on 9th Novem-
ber 1805 been promoted to be rear-admiral of the blue,
he was in the following January despatched on secret ser-
vice for the protection of Sicily and Naples. He relieved
Gaeta and captured Capri, but on 25th January 1807
received orders to proceed to Malta, whence he joined Sir
John Duckworth, who was sent to act against the Turks.
On 7th February, with the rear division of the squadron,
he destroyed the Turkish fleet and spiked the batteries off
Abydos. In November following he was sent to blockade
the Tagus and was mainly instrumental in embarking the
Portuguese prince regent and royal family and sending
them under safe protection to Rio de Janeiro, after which
he was sent as commander-in-chief to the coast of South
America. On 31st July 1810 he was made vice-admiral
of the bluQ and on 18th July 1812 was despatched as
second in command under Sir Edward Pcllew to the
Mediterranean, but the expedition was uneventful. His
term of active service practically closed in 1814. He was
made K.C.B. in 1815 and in 1821 admiral. The lator
years of his life were spent at Paris, where he died on
26th May 1840.
Sea BarroVa Life of Admiral Sir JV. S. Smith, 2 vol*., 1848.
SMOICE ABATEMENT. Tho nuisance created by coal
smoke seems to have been recognized in London aa early
as the reign of Queen Elizabeth ; but it is only in more
modern times that the question has come to bo regarded
as one of real practical importance, and oven yet it is far
from receiving that general attention which it dcmandj.
180
S M O K E
In 1785 the first smoke-abating inventiou was patented by
James Watt, who, as the inventor of the steam-engine, is
responsible for so many boiler fires and so much consump-
tion of coal. In 1815 Cutler patented the first would-be
smokeless gralto for domestic purposes ; and his principle
of feeding underneath was afterwards adopted by Dr Neil
Arnott in a grate which has now been in use in one form
or another for more than half a century. There is now a
vast number of such inventions, good and bad. In 1819
the attention of parliament was directed to the question,
and a select committee was appointed " to inquire how far
persons using steam-engines and furnaces could erect them
in a manner less prejudicial to public health and comfort."
This committee gave an encouraging report. In 1843
another select committee recommended the introduction of
a bill prohibiting the production of smoke from furnaces
a.nd steam-engines. In 1845 yet another select committee
reported that such an Act could not in the existing state
'>t affairs be made to apply to dwelling-houses. The Acts
of 1845 and 1847 followed as the results of these inquiries ;
and since then there has been much legislation brought to
bear on factories and railways. The results have been
most beneficial ; but very much still remains to be done.
One is apt to think that, because steam-engines and fac-
tories consume individually much more coal than dwelling-
houses, they alone are responsible for the smoke nuisance,
forgetting how greatly the dwelling-hauses outnumber the
(factories. In reality there is little doubt that domestic
-fires are mainly responsible for the smoky condition of the
fttposphere of our towns ; and they for the most part
rontinue to evolve smoke undeterred by legislation or
scientific invention. In 1881, however, a movement was
commenced by the National Health Society and the Kyrle
Society, which resulted in a great smoke-abatement exhi-
bition being held at South Kensington. At the close of
the exhibition a national smoke -abatement institution,
.•with offices in London, was incorporated by authority of
the Board of Trade.
Oonn A knowledge of the nature of coal and of the chemical
*OHbn changes that it undergoes when burnt is essential for an
- understanding of the smoke problem. More detailed in-
formation on these points is given under Coal, where the
several varieties are described. For the purposes of this
article coals may be classified as smoke-producing and
smokeless, the former including all those varieties most
commonly used as fuel. The ekmentary constituents of
such coals are carbon (generally about 80 per cent, of the
whole), hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen, and sulphur; and they
also contain a varying quantity of earthy impurity or ash.
;The process which occurs in a coal fire consists of two dis-
tinct operations. The first, which requires a comparatively
low temperature and is independent of the presence of air,
is one of destructive distillation, and is similar to that which
occurs in the retorts of gasworks. It results in the decom-
position of the coal, and in the rearrangement of its con-
stituent elements and the formation of the following sub-
stances : — (1) hydrogen, marsh gas, carbonic oxide, olefiant
gas, benzine, other hydrocarbons of the type of marsh gas
or of benzine, water, — all of which are either gaseous at the
temperature at* which they are formed or capable of being
converted into gas at somewhat higher temperatures, and
all of which are combustible except the water ; (2) ammonia
and other compounds of nitrogen, and certain compounds
of sulphur, which are also volatile and combustible ; (3)
coke, which consists of carbon (and ash) and is non-
volatile but combustible. It is these products of distilla-
tion, not the coal itself, that born, in the strict sense of
the word ; and this second process requires the presence
of air and also a much_ higher temperature than the first.>;
D the combustion is" perfect, the only products are (1)
lisoai.
water-vapour, (2) carbonic acid, (3) mtrogen, and (4|
sulphurous acid, the first of which contains all the hydro-
gen originally present in the coal, the second all the
carbon, the fourth all the sulphur, while the nitrogen is
liberated as such together with the very much' larger
volumes of nitrogen derived from the air which has sup-
plied the necessary oxygen. All these products of com.
bustion are discharged through the chimney.
Two things are necessary for the ensuring of such com-
plete combustion, viz., an adequate, but not too large,
supply of air, properly administered, and the maintenance
of the requisite temperature. In practice, however, these
conditions are never perfectly fulfilled, and consequently
the combustion of coal is always more or less imperfect
and gives rise to a complex mixture of vapours. This
mixture contains not only the combustion products already
mentioned but also the follov/ing unburnt or partly burnt
distillation products : — (5) hydrogen, (6) hydrocarbons, (7)
carbonic oxide, which contains a lower proportion of
oxygen than carbonic acid, (8) unburnt carbon in a very
finely divided state. — and also considerable .volume8^<rf
unused air.
Usually the name " smoke " is applied to this vaporous
mixture discharged from a chimney only when it contains
a sufficient amount of finely divided carbon to render it
dark-coloured and distinctly visible. The quantity, how-
ever, of this particular ingredient is apt to be overrated.
It always bears an extremely small projjortion to the vast
volumes of water-vapour, carljonic acid, and nitrogen with
which it is mixed ; it probably never amounts, even in the
worst cases, to 3 per cent, of the weight of the coal from
which it is formed ; and its importance, reckoned in terms
of so much fuel wasted, is certainly not greater than that
of the unburnt hydrogen and hydrocarbons. It is per-
haps best to use the name "smoke " for all the products of
imperfect combustion (5 to 8) which are avoidable, as con-
trasted with the necessary and unavoidable ingredient?
(1 to 4) of the mixture. The problem of smoke abat&>
raent is thus seen to resolve itself into the problem of tha
production of perfect combustion.
The first advantage to be gained by the solution of this
problem is an important saving in fuel. It has been cal-'
culated that at least twice as much coal is used in boiler
fires and six times as much in domestic fires as is theoreJ
tically required for the. production of the efi"ects obtained.
A considerable portion of this loss is due to causes othd;
than those that can be treated of here, and some is cen
tainly unavoidable ; but there is no doubt that much of
this enormous waste could be prevented by improved
methods of combustion, such as would solve the smoke
problem. The second advantage to be 'looked for is s^
great gain in cleanliness and public convenience. Not only
would there be an end to sooty chimneys but the atmoi
sphere of towns would no longer be polluted as it is no?^
by the discharge of unburnt carbon, whose total quafitity^
is enormous, though the amount contained in any given
puff of smoke is very small The "London fog" would,
be a thing of the past, — not because fogs would become
any less frequent than now in London and other large
cities, but because they would lose their distinctive char-
acter of grimy opacity. It is often stated that these fogs
are caused by the smoke that blackens them ; but this is
an error." The combustion of coal is certainly responsible
for their existence, but it is the sulphur of the coal
(oxidized ultimately to sulphuric acid), and not' the carbon,
that is the active agent. And so long as coal is burnt at
all this manufacture of sulphuric acid and of fogs muse
continue ; it is not to be got rid of by improved methodJ
of combustion, though the character of the fogs may b«j
materially altered for the better. ^The evil effects of towa
SMOKE
l&j.
air on plant life and human lungs, also often attributea to
preventible smoke, are in like manner due to this non-
vreventible sulphuric acid. The great gain in cleanliness,
however, that would follow the abolition of smoke cannot
be overrated.
Tie methods that have been suggested for the abolition
of smoke may be divided into two great classes, viz., those
that seek to attain this end by improving the appliances
for the burning of bituminous coal, and those that propose
to abolish its use and substitute for it some other kind of
fuel. The proposals of the first class may be divided into
those applicable to domestic purposes and those applicable
to boiler fires and other large-scale operations. Those of
the second class may be divided according to the nature of
the fuel which they suggest. The innumerable inventions
of the first class depend for their success (so far as they
are successful) on the attention bestowed on the scientific
requisites for complete combustion, viz., a sufficient but
not too great supply of air, the thorough admixture of this
air with the products of the destructive distillation of the
coal, and the maintenance of a high temperature within
the fire. In our old and crude methods the facts which
most militate against the attainment of these desiderata
are — (l)that large masses of fresh fuel are continually being
thrown on at the top, which cool down the fire just at that
point where highest temperature is required ; (2) that the
products of the distillation of this fresh fuel, heated from
below, do not get properlymixed with air till they have
been drawn up the chimney j (3) that unduly large volumes
cf cold air are continually being sucked up through the
fire, cooling it and carrying its heat away from where it is
wanted, and yet without remedying the second evil. In
the improved methods regularity of supply of both fuel
and air is sought so as to maintain a steady evolution of
distillation products, a steady temperature, and a steady
and complete combustion. In many cases it is sought to
■warm fresh air before it enters the room by "a regenerative
Ejstemi the heat being taken from the escaping gases which
would otherwise carry it up the chimney; and in some cases
the air which feeds the fire is heated in the same way.
We cannot hero discuss the merits of individual inven-
tions ; but we may summarize the chief results of the tests
applied at the South Kensington Exhibition. These tests,
'for domestic grates and stoves, included a chemical ex-"
'amination of the chmincy gases, observations of the
" smoke-shade " as indicating the proportion of unburnt
carbon, and a record of the amount of coal burnt, of the
rise of temperature produced, of the radiation, and of the
amount of heat lost by being carried, away through the
chimney. Domestic grates and stoves were divided into
six classes as follows: — (1) open grates having ordinary
bottom grids and upward draught ; (2) open grates having
Bolid floors (adapted for "'slow combustion") and upward
draught ; (3) open grates fed from below, — supplied with
fresh fuel beneath the incandescent fuel ; (4) open grates
fed from the back or from the sides or from hoppers ; (5)
©pen grates having downward or backward or lateral
draught ; (6) close stoves. Each of these classes was sub-
divided according as the apparatus was "air-heating" or
" non-air-heating," i.e., according as an attempt was or was
not made to save heat on the regenerative principle. This
attempt docs not appear to have been distinctly, successful
in any class except the fifth ; indeed the evidence of the
tests as a whole is rather, against the air-heating principle.
The following table gives the average results of tests for
each class and sub-class as regards general rise of tempera-
ture and radiation per pound of coal and smoke-shade.
The figures under the last head refer to a standard of
shades ranging from 0 (imoke imperceptible) to 10 (black
vad dense). It was found in practice that the results of
this smoKe-shade 'est were in general accord with those of
the chemical examination of the chimney gases. Th«
letters " a " and " n " in the first column signify air-heating
and non-air-heating respectively, the average results for the
whole class being given before those for each sub-clas3.
All the experiments were made with Wallsend coal, a faif
representative of the bituminous coals.
Class.
No. of appli-
ances tested.
Average rise of
temp, per lb of
coal per hour,
in degrees Falir.
Average radia-
tion per ft) of
coal per hour,
in degrees Fahr.
Average
smoke-shade.
1
19
2-88
3-58
801
,.»
9
3-37
2-88
3-22
» n
10
2-45
4-21
2-78
2
12
2-99
407
8-23
,. a
2
2-81
3-93
4-11
.. n
10
302 ■
4-09
3-09
3n
5
3-81
3-61
2-82
i> a
non
«..
..'.
4
6
305
3-14
2'6'6
..a
2
2-41
2-42
2-23
,. n
4
3-37
3-50
263
5
18
3-38
3-70
2-73
»3
11
3-45
4-00
. 2-29
.. n
7
3-28
3-22
3-21
6
10
4-14
1-66
211
n a
2
3-79
1-78
1-58
1, n
8
4'23
1-64
2-25
1-5 (total
average).
60
3-22
3-62
2-89
From this table the following facts, among others, may
be deduced : — (a) the air-heating principle has not been
applied with success except in class 5 ; (b) close stcves
(class 6) are superior to open grates (total average of
classes 1-5) in respect of freedom from smoke and of
general heating effect, but they are gr atly inferior in
radiating power, — a deficiency which pai -y explains their
unpopularity in the United Kingdom ; (c) the "slow-coro-
bustion " principle gives a high radiation factor, but ia
otherwise not successful ; (d) the class of air-heating grates
with downward, backward, or lateral draughts is, on the
whole, most efficient.
Much attention has been devoted for many years {5* the
question of how to work boiler fires, both for !ocomoti'»e3
and for fixed appliances, with the least possible production
of smoke and the greatest possible evaporative power.
Here the desiderata are essentially the same as in* the case
of domestic fires, viz., adequate admixture of the com-
bustible vapours given off by the coal with the necessary
air and the maintenance of a high temperature ; and tho
principles involved are consequently also the same, though
the appliances ire necessarily different. These improve-
ments may be all classed under one or other of two heads,
according as the mode of supplying the fuel or the mode
of supplying the air is the subject of the improvement
These two kinds of improvement may of course be com-
bined. . The article Furnace may be consulted : see also
Steam-Enoine, sect. "Boilers."
In the old forms of furnace fresh fuel, as it is wanted,
is supplied by hand iJibour, the furnace doors being opened
and large quantities of coal thrown in. ' One result of this
is the innish of great volumes of cold air, which, aided by
the equally cold fuel, lowers the general temperature of
the furnace. Mechanical stokers meet this difficulty by
supplying the coal regularly in,small quantities at a timo.
They may be divided into those which deliver the coal at
the front and gradually push it backward, those which
scatter it generally over the surface of the grate, and tlioso
which raise it from below so tiat the products of its di(»-
tillation pass through the already incandescent fuel. Tbo
mechanism by which these results are attained is often oC
a complex nature.
It is generally rccofnized that air cannot be effldaat^
J82
SMOKE
supplied to the furnace if admitted only in front, and
accorduigly there have been many plans devised for supply-
in<' it also at the back. In some cases currents of air are
induced by steam-jets ; but this plan has not proved very
successful. The best inventions are on the regenerative
i^rinciple. In them the air, before entering the furnace,
is made to circulate through chambers heated externally
by the products of combustion, and, having thus acquired
a high temperature and absorbed heat that would other-
■vvise have been lost, is admitted through openings at the
bridge. Many of these appliances are almost absolutely
smokeless, and they are much in use.
The advocates of the total or partial disuse of smoke-
producing coals are variously in favour of the follovi-ing
substitutes — anthracite, coke, liquid fuel, and gas.
For some purposes anthracite and other coals containing
a high percentage of carbon may be, and have long been,
advantageously used as fuel. They yield a much smaller
percentage of distillation products than ordinary coals, and
produce no smoke, or almost none. But they are difficult
to ignite, and in small fires difficult to keep burning;
they give VBiy little flame, and are comparatively expen-
sive, so that they are under considerable disadvantage
as compared with the usual kinds of coal. Many of the
grates and stoves exhibited at South Kensington were
specially devised for burning anthracite, and some of them
are decidedly successful ; but it is not likely that anthracite
jwill ever take the place of bituminous coal to any great
extent in the British Isles. There the great coal-fields
undoubtedly are the natural sources of fuel, and no pro-
posal involving a complete neglect of this fact can ever
be successfully carried out.
This remark, however, does not apply to the use of coke
and of gas, which are themselves made from coal. Coke
is produced in large quantities both for its own sake and
as a bye-product in the manufacture of gas for lighting
purposes, and is largely used in various kinds of furnace.
It gives no smoke ; but it resembles anthracite also in being
but ill adapted to use in open grates on account of the
difficulty of ignition and the absence of flame (see Fuel).
In America, where natural petroleum is obtained in
such enormous quantities, the experiment has been made
of using it as the source of heat for boilers. A jet of
superheated steam (at about 600° Fahr.) is blown into the
hot combustion chamber and the oil and air enter mixed
with it The results are said to be excellent, — the fire
smokeless and the efficiency high. The residue from coal-
tar, after the naphtha and light oils have been recovered
from it, can also be advantageously used in this way. The
chief disadvantage attending the use of liquid fuels such
as petroleum seems to lie in the fact that they are some-
what dangerous, fatal accidents having occurred in America;
and the range of their application is necessarily limited.
To use them for the heatmg of houses is of course quite
out of the question. '
Of all the schemes and inventions for the abatement of
smoke that one which proposes to distil coal in one opera-
tion, and to burn the products of the distillation in another
and quite separate operation, is without doubt the most
thoroughly scientific ; and to it, rather than to patent
gitites and furnaces, we must look for the ultimate solution
of the question. _^ Many arguments may be adduced in
favour of gas-heating as opposed to coal-heating, the most
important of which are here briefly given. (1) Coal gives,
on distillation, cot only gas and coke, which are both good
heating agents, but intermediate products, many of which
are of commercial value ; these include ammonia, benzine,
carbolic acid, anthracine, &c. As science advances the
value of coal-tar will probably be enhanced by further dis-
coveries; already it gives the raw material for the pre-
paration of numberless beautiful dyes, of antiseptics, and
of some drugs, and quite lately a substance described ax
an admirable substitute for sugar has been prepared from
it. All these intermediate products are now, according to
our barbarous methods of burning coal, used simply as
fuel. (2) Gas can be laid on in pipes to any spot, can be
lit or turned out at any moment, and can be so managed
that less heat is frittered away and more applied to the
specific object than in the case of coal-burning. (3) It
produces no smoke and leaves no ash or cinder, so that
cleanliness is attained and much labour and expense are
saved. (4) The coke produced during the preparation of
the gas has uses of its own as solid fuel and for other
purposes. (5) As has been already said, sulphur is an
ingredient of all coals, -and sulphuric acid is one of the
necessary results of burning them, not to be got rid of by
"smoke abatement." Coal gas, however, can to a- great
extent be freed from sulphur compounds, and it is possible
that the purification methods in vogue may hereafter be
imjiroved, so that we have here a means, if any exist, of
curing the chief evils of our present system, — injury to
our respiratory organs, production of fogs, and destruction
of vegetation in towns. The principal disadvantage of the
proposal is to be found in the high cost of coal gas, which
now varies generally from 3s. to 4s. per 1000 cubic feet,
whereas it has been calculated that it would have to cost
not more than Is. or at most Is. 6d. to compete success-
fully with coal. There is no doubt, however, that the
cost might, and it probably will, be brought down to this,
as the high rate is due to causes not inherent in the nature
of things. Sir William Siemens proposed that two sets of
mains should be laid in English towns, one for heating and
one for lighting gas, and showed that the first and last
portions of every preparation of gas are possessed of very
low illuminating power, but if collected apart would do
excellently for heating purposes, while the rest would be
improved for lighting. It is probable, however, that
electricity will ultimately drive gas out of the field as an
illuminating agent and that it will then be relegated to its
true place as a heating agent. When that is done coal
will no longer be burnt as a whole, but only those of its
products (gas and coke) which are good for heating and
for nothing else.
Jleanwhile, ordinary coal gas has already, expensive as
it now is, been largely applied to certain purposes, notably
to cooking stoves and other domestic requirements, to gas-
engines (in which the generation of steam is unnecessary),
and to bakers' ovens ; and these inventions are calculated
materially to diminish the smoke nuisance. In order to
obtain an economical gas capable of being generated on
the spot and used for operations on a large scale. Sir W.
Siemens devised a gas-producer in which coal is partially
burnt in a limited atmosphere and is wholly converted into
gaseous products (chiefly carbonic oxide), only the ash being
left.. This "producer-gas" is a weak fuel, being largely
diluted with atmospheric nitrogen, and is therefore in-
applicable to domestic piu^oses ; but for many others it
suits admirably, one of the best examples of Its application
being Siemens's own regenerative gas furnace for melting
steel (see Siemens). Other gas-producers have been
patented, and the cost of the gas so made is as low as
4d. per 1000 cubic feet, or even less. It is probably,
however, but a temporary substitute for true coal gas.
In the use of this latter we shall, without doubt, find the
true scientific solution of the smoke-abatement problem.
As an example of what gaseous fuel can do, it may be
mentioned that in Pittsburgh in Pennsylvania the furnaces
are now being fed by natural oil gas and that that city,
once one of the dirtiest of manufacturing towns, is be-
comiEg one of the cleanest.
S M 0 — S M 0
183
LiUrnturc. — The specifications of patents may be consulteJ.
Se« also C. W. Williams, The Combustion of Coal and the Preven-
tion of Smoke (London, 18,'>8) ; W. \V. Barr, Practical Treatise on
the Combustion of Coal (Indianapolis, 1879) ; Official Report of the
Smoke -Abatement Committee (London, 1882); Smoke-Abatement
E-rhibition Jlcvicie (London, 1882); and papers and discussions in
tlic Journal of the Society of Chemical Industry, 1881 and follow-
ing years. (0. M. )
SMOLENSK, a government of middle Russia, belonging
jiartly to Great Russia and partly to White Russia, is
bounded by Moscow and Kaluga on the E.,Orel and Tcher-
nigoffon the S.,Moghileff and Vitebsk on theW.,and Pskoff
and Tver on the N. It covers an area of 21,638 square miles
in the west of the great central plateau, its northern districts
extending towards the hilly region of the Valdais, where the
tlat-topped gentle declivities reach about 1000 feet above
the sea. The rivers being deeply cut in the plateau, the
surface is also billy in the western districts (Smolensk,
Dorogobuzh), whence it slopes away gently towards im-
mense plains on the east and south. Carboniferous lime-
Btonei, containing a few layers of coal (in Yucbnoff) and
quafried for building purposes, occupy the east of Smolensk ;
white Chalk appears in the southern extremity; while
Tertiary sands, marls, and ferruginous clays cover all the
ivest. The whole is overlain with a thick sheet of boulder
tlay, with irregular extensions to the north ; Post-Tertiary
sands are spread over wide surfaces; and peat>bog fills the
niarshy depressions. The soil, mostly clay, is generally
•infertile, and stony and sandy in several districts. JIany
-nrge rivers belonging to the basins of the Volga, the Oka,
the Dnieper, and the Dwina have their origin in Smolensk.
The Vazuza and the Gzhat, both flowing into the Volga,
and the Moskva and the Ugra, tributaries of the Oka,
are channels for floating timber. The two tributaries of
the Dwina — the Kasplya and the Mezha — are of much more
importance, as they and their aflluents carry considerable
numbers of boats to Riga. The Dnieper takes its origin
in Smolensk and waters it for more than 300 miles; but
neither this river nor its tributaries (Vop, Vyazma, Sozh,
and Desna), whose upper courses belong to Smolensk, are
navigable ; timber only is floated down some of them.
Many small lakes and extensive marshes occur in the north-
west. One-third of the area is under forests. The pojmla-
tion of Smolensk reached 1,191,172 in 1882, of whom only
100,133 lived in towns, and consists of White Russians in
the west (46'7 per cent.), Great Russians in the east (i2'6),
and of a mixed population of both (lO'-l). Nearly 1000
Jews and 1000 Poles are scattered through tlie towns.
The climate is like that of middle Russia generally, although the
moderating influence of the wet climate of western Europe is felt
to some extent. The average yearly temperature at Smolensk is
45'ti Fahr. (January, l.T'S ; July, 67°'2). Notwithstanding the
"Unproductive soil and the frequent failures of crops (especially in
the north-west), the chief occupation is agriculture. In 1884
3,040,000 acres were under croj.s, and 2,379,000 quarters of grain
of various kinds were raised (2,930,400 in 1883),— the potato crop
yielding 5,498,400 Iiushcls. Nearly all the land is cultivated by the
peasant communes,— only 760,500 acres (out of 6,868,900) in the
hands of single indiviiluals being under cultivation. Oatsaiean
important crop. Hemp and fla.'c are largely raised and cxpoittil.
Cattle-breeding stamls at a low level ; the cattle of the peasantry
nulfer from a want of meadow and pasture land, which is mostly in
private owneiship. In 1882 there were 329,850 horses, 349,000
horned cattle, 401,000 sheep, and 102,000 pigs. The peasantry
are mostly very poor, in consequence not only of the ilesolation
inflicted on Smolensk in 1312, the cfTects of which are .still felt,
but also of insufficient allotments and want of nieadcws. Garden-
iiig and bee-keeping, which formerly nourished, have almost
di.sajjpearcd. The limber trade and boat-buiUling are important
-sonrccs of income, but do not furni.sh employment fur all who ore
in need of it ; more than one-half of the male pojmlation of west
Smolensk leave their homes every year in search of work, principally
.13 navvies throughout Russia, the manufactures are developing
but slowly, and in 1882 employed only about 5100 workmen, — their
annual production behig valued at £328,800 ; of this amo\int the
(listilleries yielded nearly one-third. A few cotton-mills in tlio
*a»t have a production valued at £02,160 per annum. A lively
traffic is carried on on the rivers, principally the Kasplya, tne Obzha,
and the Ugra, where corn, hemp, hempseed, linseed, and especially
timber are shipped to the amount of nearly £400,000 annually. A
considerable quantity of corn is imported into the western districts.
Smolensk is crossed by two important railways, from Moscow to
Warsaw and from Riga to Saratotf; a branch-line connects Vyazma
with Kaluga. The educational institutions embrace eleven gym-
nasia and progymnasia (830 boys ajid 1402 girls), and 394 primary
schools (15,031 boys and 2142 girls). Smolensk is divided into
twelve districts, the chief towns of which, with their populations
in 1882, are — Smolensk (see below), Byetj'i (7150), Dorogobuzh
(8400), Duhovshina (3660), Elnya (4850), Gzhatsk (7050), Krasnyi
(3550), Poryetchie (4650), Rostavl (9050), Sytchevka(5720), Vyazma
(13,000), and Vuchnoff (3230).
SMOLENSK, capital of the above government, is situ-
ated on both banks of the Dnieper, at the junction of the
railways from Moscow to Warsaw and from Riga to Orel,
262 miles by rail west-south-west of Moscow. The town,
with the ruins of its old kremlin, is built on the high crags
of the left bank of the Dnieper, its suburbs extending around
and on the opposite bank of the river. Its walls are now
rapidly falling into decay, as well as all other remainders
of its past. The cathedral was erected in 16761772, on
the site of a more primitive building (erected in 1101),
which was blown up in 1611 by the defenders of the city.
The picture of the Virgin brought to Russia in 1046, and
attributed to St Luke, which is kept in. this cathedral, is
much venerated throughout central Russia. Two other
churches, built in the 12th century, have been spoiled, by
recent additions. Smolensk is neither a commercial nor a
manufacturing centre; its population was 35,830 in 1882.
Smolensk, one of the oldest towns of Russia, is naentioned in
Nestor as the chief town of the Crivitchis, situated on the great com-
mercial route "from the Varyaghs to the Greeks." It maintained
a lively traffic with Constantinople down to the 11th century, when
the principality of Smolensk included Vitebsk, Ljoscow, Kaluga,
and parts of the present government of PskofT. The princes of
Kieff were often recognized as military chiefs by the vyetchc (council)
of Smolensk, who mostly preferred Jlstislatt' and his descendants,
and Rostislatf Jlstislavovitch became the head of a series of nearly
independent princes of Smolensk. From the 14th century these
last fell more and moie under the influence of the Lithuanian
princes, and in 1404 Smolensk was annexed to Lithuania. In 1449
the Moscow princes renounced their claims upon Smolensk; never-
theless this important city, which was both a stronghold and a
commercial centre with nearly 100,000 inhabitants, was a constant
source of contention between Moscow and Lithuania. In 1514
it f»ll under Russian dominion ; but during the disturbances of
1611 it was taken by Sigismund III. of Poland, and it remained
under Polish rule until 1654, when the Russians retook it; in 1686
it was definitively annexed to Russia. In the ISthccntury it playeJ
an important part as a basis for the military operations of Peter I.
during his wars with Sweden. In 1812 it was well fortihed; but
the French took it, when it suffered much from conflagrations, and
generally, duriiig the war.
SMOLLETT, Tobias George (1721-1771), novelist, was
born at Dalquhurn, in the valley of Leven, Dumbartonshire,
in 1721. His buoyant humour and energy were the gifts of
nature, and early experience furnished him with abundant
provocation for the harsh and cynical views of human
nature to be traced in his novels. At a very early age he
was placed in a position calculated to harden the heart
of a proud and sensitive child. His father, the youngest
son of the laird of Bonhill, a Scottish legal dignitary,
married against the ambition of his family, and died
young, leaving three children, of whom the future novelist
was the second son, entirely unprovided for. The boy,
being thus left dependent on the charity of relative.%
grudgingly and insolently bestowed, as it seemed to him,
learned to look with suspicion on kindly professions. He
seems to have received the ordinary book education of
the jilace and period. Ho was sent to the neighbouring
grammar-school of Dumbarton — taught at the time by
one of the most eminent schoolmasters in Scotland — and
thereafter to the university of Glasgow. Ho wished then
to enter the army, as his elder brother had done, bun
much against his will was apj>reuticed to a surgeon. Uui
184
SMOLLETT
grandfather died when he was in his, eighteenth year,
without leaving any provision for the children of his
youngest son, and in his nineteenth year Smollett left
Glasgow and launched himself on London in quest of for-
tune with the tragedy of the Regicide in his pocket. He
failed to get the tragedy accepted, and, reduced almost to
starvation, was fain to take the situation of surgeon's mate
on board a ship of the line. He was present in 1741 at
the siege of Cartagena. He soon quitted the navy in
disgust, but during his service of a few years he acquired,
as Scott says, "such intimate knowledge of our nautical
world as enabled him to describe sailors with such truth
and spirit of delineation that, from that time, whoever
has undertaken the same task has seemed to copy more
from Smollett than from nature."
Returning to England in 1746, Smollett made a de-
sperate attempt to live by his pen, publishing the satires
Advice and Reproof — satire being then in fashion — and
pushing the Regicide and other dramatic works on thea-
trical managers and patrons. He revenged himself in his
satires for the rebuffs given to his plays. 'WTiether he
was over reduced to such straits as Mr JIelopo}Ti, whpm
Roderick Random met with in the Fleet, is not known for
certain, but it is certain that he was sharply pinched; and
he did not mend his circumstances by marrying a portion-
less lady whom he had met in th6 West Indies. His
buoyant spirit was not in the least broken by adverse
fortune, but it was considerably inflamed and embittered.
His fierce and distempered mood when he wrote Roderick
Random is reflected in the characters of the novel, which
are drawn with a much more defiant and contemptuous
hand than he used in any of his subsequent works. The
author was not a cold-blooded cynic, but a proud warm-
hearted man enraged by what he considered unjust usage.
He was not in a mood to dwell upon lovable traits in
human nature, or to find pleasure in pretty sentiments.
The public, however, when Roderick Random was published
— in 1748, a few months before Tom Jones — did not con-
cern themselves with the character of the author. The
wealth of' humorous incident, the rapidly moving crowd of
amusing figures, concealed all those harsher features in
the picture of life which quiet reflexion can now trace to
the circumstances of the author, smarting as he was under
petty insults and real or fancied indignities. This novel
at once raised Smollett into reputation. It was followed
after an interval of three years by Peregrine Pickle (1751),
the immediate popularity of which was helped by the in-
sertion into the body of the novel of two stories from real
life, the memoirs of a lady of quality (Lady Vane) and
the memoirs of the philanthropist M'Kercher. This second
masterpiece was written with a much lighter heart than the
first, although it must be confessed that the hero- is not
much of an improvement on Roderick Random. Scott
describes him as " the savage and ferocious Pickle, who,
besides his gross and base brutality towards Emilia, besides
his ingratitude to his uncle, and the savage propensity
which he shows in the pleasure he takes to torment others
by practical jokes, resembling those of a fiend in glee,
exhibits a low and ungentlemanlike tone of thinking,
only one degree higher than that of Roderick Random."
There is, however, this diSerence, that the author seems
much more conscious of the bad qualities of Pickle than
of Random. He expends no sympathy or fine sentiment
on either, but Random's defects are represented as the
results of the harsh treatment he had himself received,
while Pickle's appear rather as the outcome of a naturally
harsh and insolent character. Both are far from being
model gentlemen, but Pickle is several degrees lower
rather than one degree higher than Random. In the
■econd novel there is a still richer crowd of characters,
quaint, amusing, disgusting, and contemptible ,:. but there
is more of a tendency to secure variety by extravagant
caricature. For some of the indecencies in the first edition
Smollett apologized, and withdrew them in a second edition,
but he still left enough to satisfy the greediest taste in
that particular. He also withdrew a very offensive alla-
sion to Fielding, and in his next novel. The Adventures of
Ferdinand, Count Fathom, paid that great rival the com-
pliment of imitation. Though Smollett was far from being
a servile imitator, there can be no doubt that he profited
greatly by Fielding's example in all the higher essentials
of his craft. This, his third effort, although it has not the
same exuberant humour and fresh variety of character, i»
vastly better in point of constructive skill and sustained
power of description. It looks as li. he had deliberately
set himself to show that he too as well as the author of
Tom Jones could make a plot. The vileness of Fathom's
character is so repulsive that the novel is much less often
read than others of Smollett's; but it is his greatest feat
of invention, being not a mere string of lively adventures,
but a connected series in the progressive movement of
the villain's career. It contains some of Smollett's most
cynical comments on human motives, as well as passages
that illustrate strikingly his real goodness of heart. He
was not at home, however, in the direct expression of
tender sentiment. ; when any of his persons gush, they do
so with such wordiness and extravagance as to give them
an air of insincerity.
With the composition of Count Fathom in 1 753 Smollett's
invention seemed to be exhausted for the time. For the
next ten years he occupied himself with miscellaneous
literary work, translating Don Quixote (published 1755),
compiling a Compendium of Voyages and Travels (1757),
and producing a History of England from thi Landing of
Cxsar to the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle (1757), followed by
a continuation down to the date of publication (1761-65).
Smollett, in short, from the time of his first success made
his living as a professional man of letters. He obtained a
medical degree from a German university about 1752,
and set up as a physician, but seems never to have acquired
much practice. He turned this experience to account, how-
ever, by caricaturing in Count Fathom the arts of rising in the
profession. He had very little more success in his attempts
to write for the stage. The Regicide was never acted, and,
when it was published in 1749 to expose the folly of
managers in not accepting it, the verdict of the public was
rather with the managers than with the author. Smollett's
single success on the stage was a farce with a political object,
The Reprisals, or the Tars of Old England, produced in
1757 to excite feeling against the French. As a journalist
also Smollett was not particularly successful, partly perhaps
because he attached himself to the losing side, — the Tory
and High Church party. He edited their organ The Cri-
tical Revieio for some years, and in 1759 suffered impri.-ion-
ment for an attack on Admiral Knowles. At the beginning
of the reign of George III. he supported Lord Bute's
ministry in The Briton, but The Briton was driven out of
the field by Wilkes's North Briton. Altogether Smollett's
revenue from play-writing and journalism seems to have
been small, unless his party services were requited inde-
pendently of the sale of his papers. But his name stood
high with booksellers. He introduces himself in Humphrey
Clinker as a dispenser of literary patronage, surrounded by
a number of humble dependants. The.se were probably
the hacks to whom he gave employment in his journals
and in such booksellers' jobs as his translation of Voltaire
and the compilation entitled The Present State of all
Nations, containing a Geographical, Natural, Commercial,
and Political History of all the Countries of the Known
World mdZ).
S M U — S M Y
185
In the course of this hard miscellaneous task-work,
■under which Smollett's health gave way completely, he
wrote by instalments for the British Magazine (in 1760
and 1761) the curious satirical romance of Sir Lancelot
Greaves. It is only in externals that this work bears any
resemblance to Don Quixote. The author seems to have
hesitated between making Sir Lancelot a mere madman
and making him a pattern of perfectly sane generosity.
The fun and the seriousness do not harmonize. The young
knight's craze for riding about the country to redress wrongs
armed cap-a-pie is too harshly out of tune with the Tight-
ness of his sympathies and the grave character of the real
abuses against which his indignation is directed. In execu-
tion the work is very unequal and irregular, but the open-
ing chapters are very powerful, and have been imitated by
hundreds of novelists since Smollett's time.
Upon the failure of his health in 1763 Smollett went
abroad and Hved in France and Italy for three years. He
published two volumes of Travels soon after his return in
1766. Three years more he spent in England, trying in
vain to get some consular post abroad, where the climate
might suit his shattered constitution. His extremely clever
and extremely coarse political satire. The Adventures of an
Atom, published in 1769, was probably inspired partly by
resentment at the neglect of his own claims by successive
ministries. He left England soon after its publication,
and spent the last two years of his life in a house at Monte
Novo in the neighbourhood of Leghorn. Here, labouring
under a painful and wasting disease, he composed his last
work, The Expedition of Uumphrey Clinker, published in
1771. This is generally regarded as his best novel. It
certainly is the most pleasant reading, much softer and
more humane in tone, while equally alive with vivid
sketches and studies of character and a never-failing supply
of ludicrous adventures. The loose and easy plan does
not require for its execution the sustained power shown in
Count Fathom; but, on the other hand, it leaves the novelist
free to introduce greater variety of character and incident.
None of his novels gives a better impression of Smollett's
versatility than Humphrey Clinker, and there is none of
'them to which his successors have been more indebted.
But whoever would understand how muth the English
novel owes to Smollett must read all his five fictions and
not merely the most celebrated three. His influence upon
novel-writing was wider even than Fielding's. He died
at Monte Novo on 21st October 1771. (w. m.)
SMUGGLING denotes a breach of the revenue laws
«ither by the importation or the exportation of prohibited
goods or by the evasion of customs duties on goods liable
to duty. Smuggling is, as might be expected, most pre-
valent where duties are high. The best preventive is the
imposition of duties so low in amount and on so few articles
that it becomes scarcely worth while to smuggle. Legisla-
tion on the subject in England has been very active from
the 14th century downwards. In the reign of Edward
HI. the illicit introduction of base coin from abroad led
to the provision of the Statute of Treasons (25 Edw. III.
St. 5) making it treason to import counterfeit money as
the money called " Lushburgh." Such importation is still
an offence, though no longer treason. After the Statute
of Treasons a vast number of Acts dealing with smuggling
were passed, most of which will be found recited in the
repealing Act of 6 Geo. IV. c. 105. In the 18th and
the early years of the 19th century smuggling (chiefly of
wine, spirits, tobacco, and bullion) was so generally prac-
tised in Great Britain as to become a kind of national fail-
ing, and the smuggler was often regarded as a popular hero,
like the contrabandiMa of modern Spain. The prevalence
of the offence a century and a half ago may be judged from
the report of Sir J. Cope's committee in 1732 upon the
22-!)*
frauds on the revenue. The smuggler of the 18th century
finds an apologist in Adam Smith, who writes of him as
"a person who, though no doubt highly blamable for vio-
lating the laws of his country, is frequently incapable of
violating those of natural justice, and would have been in
every respect an excellent citizen had not the laws of his
country made that a crime which nature never meant to
be so." _ The gradua^ reduction of duties has brought the
offence in the United Kingdom into comparative insig-
nificance, and it is now almost confined to tobacco. Most
of the existing legislation on the subject of smuggling is
contained in the Customs Consolidation' Act, 1876 (39
and 40 Vict. c. 36, ss. 169-217).
The main provisions are as follows. Vessels engaged in smug-
gling are liable to forfeiture and their owners and masters to a
penalty not exceeding £500. Smuggled and prohibited goods are
liable to forfeiture. Officers of customs have a right of search of
vessels and persons, fraudulent evasion or attempted evasion of
customs duties renders the offender subject to forfeit either treble
the value of the goods or £100 at the election of the commissioners
of customs. Heavy penalties are incurred by resistance to officers
of customs, rescue of person or goods, assembling to run goods,
signalling smuggling vessels, shooting at vessels, boats, or officers
of the naval or revenue service, cutting adrift customs vessels,
oifering goods for sale under pretence of being , iiupgled, itc
Penalties may be recovered either by action or information in the
superior courts or by summary proceedings. In criminal proceed-
ings the defendant is competent and compellable to give evidence.
The Act applies to the United Kingdom, the Isle of Man, and the
Channel Islands. Besides, the Customs Act, 60 Geo. III. c. 41, s.
16 (the corresponding Act for Scotland is 55 Geo. III. c. 71, s. 9),
enacts that a hawker's licence is to be forfeited on his conviction
for knowingly selling smuggled goods. The Merchant Shipping
Act, 1854 (17 and 18 Vict. c. 104, s. 243), makes any seaman or
apprentice, after conviction for smuggling whereby loss or damage
is causfd to the master or owner of a ship, liable to pay to such
master or owner such a sum as is sufficient to reimburse the master
or owner for such loss or damage, and the whole or a proportional
part of his wages may be retained in satisfaction of this liability.
Additional provisions as to smuggling are also contained in 42 and
43 Vict. c. 21 and 44 and 45 Vict. c. 12. A smuggling contract
is generally illegal. But it may be valid, and the vendor may re-
cover the price of goods, even though he knew the buyer intended
them to be smuggled, unless he actually aids in the smuggling so
as to become particeps criminis. Contracts to defraud tl^ revenue
of a foreign state are, according to English decisions, not illegal.
There is a German decision, more consonant with international
morality, to the opposite effect. .
The penalties for smuggling in the United States will be found
mainly in tit. xxxiv. ch. 10 of the Revised Statutes. The seaman
guilty of smuggling is liable to the same penalty as in England,
and in addition to imprisonment for twelve months, s. 4596.
A considerable amount of historical information on this subject will be foosd
in DoweU's History v/ Taxation and Pike's History of Crime in England.
SMYRNA, in ancient times one of the most important
and now by far the greatest of the cities of Asia Minor
(see vol. XV. Plate II.), has preserved an unbroken con-
tinuity of record and identity of name from thp first dawn
of history to the present time. It is said to have been
a Lelegian city before the Greek colonists settled in Asia
Minor. The name, which is said to be derived from an
Amazon called Smyrna, is indubitably Anatolian, having
been applied also to a quarter of Ephcsus, and (under
the cognate form Myrina) to a city of .^olis, and to a
tumulus in the Troad. The jEolio settlers of Lesbos and
Cyme, pushing eastwards by Larissa and Neonteichus and
over the Hermus, seized the valley of Smyrna. It waa
the frontier city between ./Eolis on the north and Ionia
on the south, and was more accessible on the south and
cast than on the north and west. At the same time
it was by virtue of its favourable situation necessarily
a commercial city, like the Ionian colonics. It is there-
fore Viot surprising that the .iEolic element grew weaker ;
strangers or refugees from the Ionian Colophon settled in
the city, and finally Smyrna passed into the hands of lh»
Colophonians and became the thirteenth of ths Iodiab
states. The change had taken place before 668, when
the Ionian Onomastua of Smyrna won the boxing prize aU
186
SMYRNA
Olympia, but it was probably then a recent event. The
Colophonian conquest is mentioned by Mimnermus (before
600 B.C.), who counts himself equally a Colophonian and
a Smyrnaean. The iEolic form of the name^ Ifivpva, was
retained even in the Attic dialect, and the epithet " .^olian
Smyrna " remained long after the conquest. The favour-
able situation of Smyrna on the path of commerce between
Lydia and the west raised it during the 7th century to
the height of power and splendour. It lay at the eastern
end of an arm of the sea, which reached far inland and
admitted the Greek trading ships into the heart of Lydia.
One of the great trade routes which cross Anatolia from
east to west descends the Hermus valley past Sardis, and
then diverging from the valley passes south of Mount
Sipylus and crosses a low pass into the little valley, about
7 miles long and 2 broad, where Smyrna lies between the
mountains and the sea. Miletus, and at a later time
Ephesus, situated at the sea end of the
other great trade route across Anatolia,
competed for a time successfully with
Smyrna for the conveyance of traffic
from the interior; but both Ephesus
and Miletus have long fgo lost their
harbours, and Smyrna now remains
without a rival. It was of necessity
in close relation with the Lydians, and
when the Mermnad kings raised the
Lydian power and aggressiveness it
was one of the first points of attack.
Gyges(687-653)was,however,defeated
in a great battle on the banks of the
Hermus; the situation of the battle-
field shows that the power of Smyrna
extended far to the east, and probably
included the valley of Nymphseum
(Nif). A strong fortress, the ruins of
whose ancient and massive walls are
still imposing, on a hill in the pass
between Smyrna and Nymphaeura,
was probably built by the SmjTnajan
lonians to command the valley of
Nymphaeum. According to the poet
Theognis (about 500 B.C.), "pride de-
stroyed Smyrna." Mimnermus laments
the degeneracy of the citizens of his
day, who could no longer stem the Ly-
dian advance. Finally, Alyattes (610-
563) conquered the city, and Smjrna
for 300 years lost its place in the list
of Greek cities. It did not entirely
cease to exist, but the Greek life and political tinity
■were destroyed, and the Smyrnaean state was organized
on the village system (mkcito Kw^iySov). It is mentioned
in a fragment of Pindar, about 500 B.O., and in an iu-
scription of 388 B.C. A small fortification of early style,
rudely but massively buUt, on the lowest slope of a
hill behind Burnabat, is perhaps a fortified village of
this period. Alexander the Great conceived the idea of
restoring the Greek city; the two Nemeses who were
worshipped at Smyrna are said to have suggested the
idea -to him in a dream. The scheme was, according
to Strabo, carried out by Antigonus (316-301), and Lysi-
machus enlarged and fortified the city (301-281). The
acropolis of the ancient city had been on a steep peak
about 1250 feet high, which overhangs the north-eastern
extremity of the gulf; its ruins still exist, probably in
much the same condition as they were left by Alyattes.
The later city was founded on the. site which it still
occupies, partly on the slopes of a rounded hill called Pagus
lear tha south-east end of the gulf, partly on the low
ground between the hill and the sea. The beauty of tti0
city when seen from the sea, clustering on the low ground
and rising tier over tier on the hillside, is frequently praised
by the ancients and is celebrated on its coins ; the same
impression still strikes the spectator, and must in ancient
times have been much stronger, when magnificent build-
ings, an imposing acropolis, and the wide circle of massive
walls combined with the natural scenery in one splendid
picture. Smyrna is shut in on the west by a hiU now
called Deirmen Tepe, with the ruins of a temple on the
summit.-- The walls of Lysimachus crossed the summit of
this bill; and the acropolis occupied the top of Pagus.
Between the two the road from Ephesus entered the city
by the "Ephesian gate," near which was a gymnasium.
Closer to the acropolis the outline of the stadium is still
visible, and the theatre was situated on the northern slope*
of Pagus. The line of the walls on the eastern side is
' SciHc oTHalf aMao.
Plan of Smyrna.
unknown ; buff they certainly embraced a greater area than
is included by the" Byzantine wall, which ascends the
castle hill (Pagus) from the Basmakhand railway station.
Smyrna possessed two harbours, — the outer, which was.
simply the gulf, and the inner, which was a small basin,
with a narrow entrance closed by a ropo in case of need,
about the place now occupied by bazaars. The inner
harbour was partially filled up by Timur in 1402, but it
had not entirely disappeared till the beginning of the 1 9th
century. The modern quay has encroached considerably
on the sea, and the coast-line of the Greek time was about
90 yards farther to the south. The streets were broad,
weU paved, -and regularly laid out at right angles ; many
were named after temples : the main street, called the
Golden, ran across the city from west to east, beginning
probably from the temple on Deirmen Tepe, and continuing
towards Tepejik outside the city on the east, where prob-
ably the temple of Cybele, the Metroon, stood. Cybele,
worshipped under the name of Meter Sipylene, from Mount
Sipylus, which bounds tha Smyrna valley on the north.
S N A — S N A
187
WHS the tutelar goddess of the city. The plain towards
the sea was too low to be properly drained, and hence in
rainy weatLer the streets were deep wiih mud and water.
The river Meles, which flowed by Smyrna, is famous in
literature and was worshipped in the valley. The most,
common and consistent tradition connects Homer with
the valley of Smyrna and the banks of the Moles ; his
figure was one of the stock types on SmjTna2an coins, one
class of which was called Honierian ; the epithet " Mele-
gigenes " was applied to him ; the cave where he was wont
to compose his poems was shown near the source of the
river ; his temple, the Homereum, stood on its banks.
The steady equable flow of the Melcs, alike in summer
and winter, neither swollen after rain nor dry during
drought, its pleasant water, its short course, beginning
and ending near the city, are celebrated by Aristides and
Himerius. The description applies admirably to the stream
which rises from abundant fountains, now known as Diana's
Bath, some way to the east of the city, and flows into the
south-eastern extremity of the gulf. The common belief
that the torrent, dry except after rains, which flows by
Caravan Bridge is the ancient Meles flatly contradicts the
ancient descriptions.
In the Roman period Smyrna was the seat of a convenius
which included southern JEoVia and great part of the
Ifermus valley. It vied with Ephesus and Pergamum for
the title " First (city) of Asia." A Christian church ex-
isted here from a very early time, having its origin in the
considerable Jewish colony. PoLYC.iEP (q.v.) was bishop
of Smyrna. The bishops of Smyrna were originally subject
to the metropolitan of Ephesus ; afterwards they became
independent (aijTOKl</)aAot), and finally were honoured with
metropolitan rank, having under them thebishopsof Phocaea,
Magnesia ad Sipylum, Clazomense, Sosandrus (Nymph-
ffium 1), Archangelus (Temnos 1), and Petra (Menemen 1).
When Constantinople became the seat of government
t'tisd trade between Anatolia and the west lost in import-
auce, and Smyrna declined apace. A Turkish freebooter
named Tsacha seized Smyrna in 1084 and maintained
himself there for some time, but it was recovered by the
generals of Alexius Comnenus. The city was several times
afterwards ravaged by the Turks, and had become quite
ruinous when the emperor John Ducas Vatatzes about
1222 rebuilt it. The famous chieftain Aidin conquered it
about 1330 and made his son Amur governor. ' Soon after-
wards the knights of Saint John established themselves
iu the tovm, but failed to conquer the citadel. In 1402
Timur stormed the to^vn and massacred almost all the in-
habitants. The Mongol conquest was only temporary,
but Smyrna has remained till the present day in Moham-
medan hands. It is now the greatest commercial city in
the Levant ; its population is about 200,000, of whom
nearly half are Greeks. It is the terminus of the railway
system which is gradually spreading over Anatolia. Two
lines start from Smyrna : one ascends the Hermus valley
by Magnesia and Sardis to Alashehr (Philadelphia), about
110 miles; the other goes south by Ephesus to the Macander
valley beside Magnesia on the Mceander and then ascends
he valley to the neighbourhood of Laodicea on the Lycus,
143 miles. Since the revival of the Levant trade by the
Genoese and Venetians Smyrna has' been the emporium
for the whole produce of Anatolia ; the chief raw pro-
ducts exported are valonea, figs, raisins, opium, madder,
liquorice, cotton, sponges, emery, &c.; almost the only
articles of native manufacture which are exported from
Smyrna arc the carpets woven at Geurdiz, Coula, Ushak,
and other places in the interior. Smyrna has frequently
been partially destroyed by earthquakes ; that of 178 a.d.
is the most famous, and in 168S, 1768, and 1880 the
town suffered severely. (w. M. RA.)
SNAIL. In England the word " snail " in popular lan-
guage is associated with Gasteropods which inhabit Ijo^d or
fresh water and which possess large conspicuous spiral
shells ; terrestrial Gasteropods in which the shell is rudi-
meiitary and concealed are distinguished as "slugs." In
Scotland the word " slug " is absent from the vernacular
vocabulary, both shell-bearing and shell-less inland molluscs
being known as snails. Marine Gasteropods are occasionally
termed "sea-snails," and the compounds "pond- snails,"
"river-snails," "water-snails" are in common use. The
commonest land-snails are those species which constitute the
family Ihliddx, order Pvlmonata, sub-order Stylommato-
phora. The other two families of the same sub-order,
Limacidx and OncMdiidx, include all the slugs. In the
first of these are comprised all the slugs known in Great
Britain, and indeed in Europe. The Onchidiidx are entitled
to the name " sea-slugs," as they are shell-less Pulmonates
living on the seashore, though not actually in the sea. The
term "water-snails" includes the whole of the remaining
sub-order of the Pulmonata, namely, the Basommatophora,
in which the eyes are sessile. This division comprises two
families, Limnxidx and Auricididx; some of the members
of the first are amphibious, some entirely aquatic; the
snails of the second family are found near but not in the
water. Thus the whole of the Pulmonata which breathe
air, are destitute of gill-plumes and operculum, and have
a complicated hermaphrodite reproductive system are
either snails or slugs. But there are a considerable num-
ber of snails, both terrestrial and aquatic, which aro not
Pulmonates. The land-snails which have no gill-plume
in the mantle-chamber and breathe air, but have the sexes
separated, and possess an operculum belong to the order
Azygohrancliia, of which they form a distinct sub-order,
the Pneunionochlamyda, containing. three families, Cydosto-
midx, Helicinidx, and Aciculidx. The fresh- water snails
which are not Pulmonates are the Pahidinids; Vahaiids,
and Ampullaridx, together with Neritina, a genus of the
Nerilidx. These all possess a fully developed gill-plume
and are typical Azygobranchiates of the sub-order Uolo-
ddamyda, most of the members of which are marine.
The family EcUcidx has a world-wide distribution. In BelvB
the spiro forms a more or less obtuse-angled cone ; tbero are al'ovo
1200 species, of which 24 are British. Helix iiemoraUa, L.,of which ^.
horUnsis is a variety, is one of the commonest forms. Helix pamatia,
L., is the largest species, and is known as the "edible snail" ; it is
commonly eaten in Franco and Italy, together with other species.
It was formerly believed to have been introduced into Britain by
the Romans, but there is no doubt that it is a native. In Sitecinca
the cone of the spire is acute-angled ; three species aro British.
In Vitrina the spire is very tint and the surface glassy. In Sulimus
the spire is elongated with a pointed apex, fupa is named from
its resemblance to a chrysalis, the apex being roanded. The shell
of Clausilia is sinistral and iU aperture is provided with a hinged
pinto. The commoner European slugs of small size all belong t»
the genus Zimax, in which the opening of the mantle-chambci*ia
posterior. L. flavus is the cellar slug. L. ngrcstis, L. arborum, L.
maximus, occur in gardens and fields. The larger black slugs aro
sjiccies of Arion, of which two are British, A. aUr and A. hortensit.
Tcslacella haliolidea is common iu Great Britain and throughout
Europe.
The LimmBiim ooeai in all parts of the world. Zi'mnjriw contoini
the largest species. L. perei/er, Jlulltr, is ubiquitous in Groat
Britain and common all over Europe. All the species are. usually
infested with Cercaria! and Jiedix, the larval forms of Trcm.itodo
parasites of vertebrates, L. truncatulus harbours the Cerearia of
Fasciolahepatioa, the livcr-tluke, which causes rot in sheep. Annjlut,
which occurs in rivers, has a minute limpct-liko shell. I'lnnorbit
has the spiro of tho shell in one plane. Physa is smaller than
Limnasua and has tho upper part of the spire much shorter. In
the Auriculidm tho aperture is denticulated, Aurieuhi is confined
to tho East Indies and Peru. Carychium minimum is British.
Of tho Cydoslomidw only one species, Cyeloatoma eler/nus, Jliiller,
is British ; it hides under .itones and nwta. Tho HrUcinilm aro
exotic, ranging from tho West Indies to tlio riiilip|'inri. Of tho
Acinilidtr, which aro all minute, Aeieula Hntala is British.
The ^hnpuUo.rida are confined to tho tropica, AmpullarU h<a
very long tentacle* and a long siphon formed b' tho luantlej
188
S N A — S N A
' Valvala is common in fresh waters throughout Britain ; the gill
.when the animal is expanded is protruded beyond the mantle-
ehamber. The Paludinidss are common in the northern hemisphere.
Paludina and Bilhynia are both British genera. In Paludina the
whorls of the spiral are very prominent ; the genus is viviparous.
Bilhynia is smaller and the shell smoother.
Neritina has a very small spire, the terminal portion of the shell
containing nearly the whole animal.
For the morphology and classification of snails, see Mollusca, vol, xvi. p.
648 s^. A history of the British forms is given in Gwyn Jeffreys'a BritisK
Conchology, 1862, and by Forbes and Hanley in British Mollusca. For specie-
graphical details, see Woodward's Manual of the Mollusca, 1876, and Bronn's
Thierreick (Weichthiere). For Fasciola hepatica, see Thomas, Quart. Jtmrn.
Afic. Sci., 1882.
SNAKE-BIED, to use tlie name commonly given to it
by the Englisli in North America, because of its "long
^lender head and neck," which, its body being submerged
as it swims, " appear like a snake rising erect out of the
water" (Bartram's MS., quoted by Ord in "Wilson's Am.
Ornithology, ix. p. 81), the " Darter " of many authors, and
the Plotus anhinga ^ of ornithology, is the type of a small
but very well-marked Faikily of Birds, Plotidse, belonging
to the group Steganopodes (the Di/sporo7no7-phx of Prof.
Huxley), and consisting of but a single genus aiid three
or four species. They bear a general resemblance both
outwardly and in habits to Cormorants (see vol. vi. p. 407),
but are much more slender in form and have both neck
and tail much elongated. The bill also, instead of being
tipped with a maxillary hook, has its edges beset with
Berratures directed backwards, and is sharply pointed, — in
this respect, as well as in tho attenuated neck, likening
the Snake-biids to the Herons (see vol. xi. p. 760); but the
latter do not generally transfix their prey as do the former.
I The male of the American species, which ranges from Illinois to
the south of Brazil, is in full breeding-plumage a very beautiful
Mid, with crimson irides, the bare skin round the eyes apple-green
[Indian snaiji-bird (from Col. Tickell's drawing in the library of the
Zoological Society).
mcl that of the chin orange, the head, neck, and most part of the
body clothed in black glossed with green ; but down each side of
the neck runs a row of long hair-like white feathers, tinged with
pale lilac. The much elongated scapulars and the small upper
wing-coverts bear each a median white mark, which on the former
is a stripe pointed at either end, and on the latter a broad ovate
patch.s The larger wing-coverts are dull white, but the quill-
feathers of the wings and tail are black, the last broadly tipped
with brownish-red, passing into greyish-white, and forming a con-
spicuous band when the tail is spread in form of a fan, as it often
' " Anhinga," according to Marcgrave, who first described this bird
{Bisl. Her. Nat. Branlis, p. 218), was the name it bore among the
natives.
' These feathers are very characteristic of each species of tho genus,
»nd in India, says Jerdon, are among the Khasias a badge of royalty.
is under water.' The hen differs much in appearance from the
cock, having the head, neck, and breast of a more or less deep buff,
hounded beneath by a narrow chestnut band ; but otherwise her
plumage is like that of her n-ate, only not so bright in colour. The
habits of this species have been repeatedly described by American
writers, and those of its congeners, to be immediately mentioned,
seem to be essentially the same. The Snake-bird frequents the
larger rivers or back-waters connected with them, where it may bs
seen resting motionless on some neighbouring tree, generally choos-
ing a dead branch, or on a "snag" projecting from the bottom,
whence it plunges beneath the surface, in pursuit of its fishy prey,
to emerge, in the manner before related, showing little nore than
its slender head and neck. Its speed and skill under water are
almost beyond exaggeration, and it exhibits these qualities even in
captivity, taking — apparently without effort — fish after fish that
may be introduced into its tank, however rapidly they may swim
and twist, and only returning to its perch when its voracious appe-
tite is for the moment appeased or its supply of food temporanly
exhausted. Then, after adjusting its plumage with a few rapid
passes of its bill, and often expanding its wings, as though, Cor-
morant-fashion, to dry them, it abandons itself to the pleasurable
and passive process of digestion, reawaking to activity at the call
of hunger. Yet at liberty it will indulgf in long flights, and those
of the male at the breeding- season are ostentatiously performed
in the presence of his mate, around whom he plays in irregular
zigzag courses. The nest is variously placed, but almost always
in trees or bushes overhanging the water's edge, and is a largo
structure of sticks, roots, and moss, in which are laid four eggs
with the white chalky shell that is so characteristic of most
Steganopodous birds. Not unfrequently several or CT3n many
nests are built close together, and the locality that suits the Snake-
bird suits also many of the Herons, so that these, its distant rela-
tives, are often also its near neighbours.* The African Snake-bird,
P. congensis (or Icvaillanti of some authors), inhabits the greater
part of that continent from Natal northwards ; but, though met
with on the White NUe, it is not known to have occurred in Egypt,
a fact the more remarkable seeing that Canon Tristram found it
breeding in considerable numbers on the Lake of Antioch, to which
it is a summer visitor, and it can hardly reach its home without
passing over the intervening country. The male bird is easily dis-
tinguishable from the American species by its rufous coronal patch,'
its buff throat and its chestnut greater wing-coverts. A third
species, P. mdanogpster, ranges from Madagascar to India, Ceylon,
Borneo, Java, and China. This so closely resembles the last-men-
tioned that the differences between them cannot be briefly expressed.
The Australian region also has its Snake-bird, which is by some
regarded as forming a fourth species, P. novas-hollandim ; but others
unite it to that last-mentioned, which is perhaps somewhat variable,
and it would seem {P. Z. S., 1877, p. 349) that examples from New
Guinea differ somewhat from those inhabiting Australia itself. I
The anatomy of the genus Plotus has been dealt ■with
more fully than that of- most forms. Beside the excellent
description of the American bird's alimentary canal fur-
nished to Audubon by MaCgillivray, other important
points in its structure have been well set forth by Garrod
and Forbes in the Zoological Proceedings (1876, pp. 335-
345, pis. xx.vi.-xxviii. ; 1878, pp. 679-681; and 1882, pp.
208-212), showing among other things that there is an
appreciable anatomical difference between the species of
the New World and of the Old ; while the osteology of
P. melanogasier has been admirably described and illus-
trated by Prof. Milne -Edwards in M. Grafldidier's great
Oiseaun de Madagascar (pp. 691-695, pis. 284, 285). In
aU the species the neck affords a feature which seems to
be unique. The first seven of the cervical vertebrae form
a continuous curve -with its concavity forward, but the
eighth articulates with the seventh nearly at a right angle
and, when the bird is at rest, lies horizontally. The nint
is directed downwards almost as abruptly, and those which
succeed present a gentle forward convexity. The muscles
moving this curious framework are as curiously specialized,
and the result of the whole piece of mechanism is to enable
the bird to spear with facility its fishy prey. (a. H.)
' This peculiarity, first pointed out to the writer by Mr. Bartlett,
who observed it in birds in the Zoological Society's possession, doubt-
less suggested the name of "Water-Turkey" by which in some places
Plotus anhinga is said to be known.
♦ The curious but apparently well-attested fact of the occurrence m
England, near Poole, in June 1861, of a male bird of this speciai
{Zoologist, pp. 3601, 3654) has been overlooked by several writers who
profess to mention all cases of a similar character
S N A — S N A
189
SNAKE- ROOT. In most countries where snakes
abound some root or herb is used by the natives as an
antidote for the bites of venomous species, and many herbs
have consequently received the name of snake-root. Botani-
cally speaking, the name properly belongs to Ophiorrhiza
Mungos, L., a plant of the Cinchona family, used in the
East Indies for the purpose above indicated. In medicine,
however, the roots of Aristolochia Se:pentaria, L., Polygala
Seneffo, L., or Cimidfuga racemosa, Elliott, are alike under-
stood by this name, being distinguished respectively as the
Virginian, Seneka, and Black Snake-roots. The first is now
employed as an aromatic antiseptic tonic in typhoid fever,
the second as a stimulant expectorant in bronchitis, and
the third as & sedative in rheumatic or inflammatory affec-
tions, especially in muscular rheumatism and lumbago.
The root of Aristolochia reticulata, Nutt., which is known
in the United States as Red River or Texan Snake-root, is
the kind most frequently met with in the United Kingdom
as Serpen tary or Virginian Snake-root. (See Guacc.)
The roots or rhizome of Liatris spicata, Willd., Ert/ngium
aquaiicum, L., and Eupatorium altissimum, L., have all
been used in North America for snake-bites, the first two
being known as Button Snake-root and the last as White
8nake-root. The rhizome of Asarum canadense, L., passes
Tinder the name of Canadian Snake-root. All of these con-
tain acrid or aromatic principles which, when a warm de-
coction of the drug is taken, exercise a powerfully diapho-
retic or, in some cases, diuretic action, to which any benefit
■that may be derived from their use must be attributed.
I SNAKES constitute an order (Ophidia) in the class of
iReptiles which is characterized by an exceedingly elongate
fcody, cylindrical or sub-cylindrical, and terminating in a
tapering tail. The integuments are folded into flat imbri-
(eate scales, which are rarely tubercular or granular. The
•spinal column consists of a very great number of vertebrae,
with which the numerous ribs are movably articulated.
iLimbs are entirely absent, or only rudiments of the pos-
terior occur more or less hidden below the skin ; there is
no sternum. The bones of the palate and jaws are mov-
able ; the mandibles are united in front by an elastic liga-
ment and are very distensible. Generally both jaws and
the palate are toothed, the teeth being thin and needle-
like. There are no eyelids,, no ear-opening. The vent
is a transverse slit.
Great as is the difference in appearance between a typical
snake and a typical lizard, the two orders of Ophidians
and Lacertilians are nearly allied ; the former is probably
merely a specialized descendant of the latter or of the
pythonomorphous reptiles, or perhaps of both. Moreover,
the living Lacertilians include forms which approach the
Ophidians by having a greatly increased number of verte-
brae, a much advanced degradation of the scapular and pe*.
vie arches and limbs, a simple dentition, and the absence
of eyelids and external ear-opening. And on the other
hand we find Ophidians with a greatly diminished flexibility
of the vertebral column, with closely adherent, smooth and
polished scales, with a narrow mouth — totally unlike the
enormous gape of the typical snakes — and even without
that longitudinal fold in the median line of the chin which
is so characteristic of the order (Typhlopidsc). Thus of
the Ophidian characters as given above only that taken
from the loose connexion of the bones of the skull remains
as a sharp line of separation between snakes and lizards.
The mandibulary symphysis is not by suture but by an
elastic band ; the intermaxillary, palatine, and pterygoid
bones are so loosely attached to the cranium that they can
be easily pressed outwards and forwards, and the maxillary
and mandibulary of one side can bo moved in those
directions independently of their fellows opposite. The
intermaxillary is small, generally toothless, and coalesces
with the nasals and vomer into a single movable bone •
finally, the suspensory is much elongate and movable at
both ends. This arrangement ensures an extraordinary
degree of mobility and elasticity of all parte of the gape,
which, however, varies in the difi"eient families of the order
For the other characteristic points of their structure and,
for their distribution, see Reptiles.
The number of known species of snakes has been given
as 1500 by some authorities and as 1800 by others. The
limits of their distribution seem to be the 70th parallel
N. lat. in Europe, the 54th in British Columbia, and the
40th parallel S. lat. in the southern hemisphere. The num-
ber of species and of individuals in a species is small in the
temperate zones, but increases as the tropics are approached.
In the tropical zone they are abundant, especially where %
well-watered soil nourishes a rich vegetation, with glades
open to the sun, and where a variety of small animals
serve as an abundant and easily obtained prey. It is in
the tropics also that the largest (boas, pythons) and the
most specialized kinds occur (tree snakes, sea snakes, tha
large poisonous snakes). On tho;' other hand, everyj
variety of soil is tenanted by some kind of snakes : they
form a contingent in every desert fauna. In accordance
with this general distribution snakes show a great amount
of differentiation with regard to their mode of life and
general organization ; and from the appearance alone of
a snake a safe conclusion can be drawn as to its habits.
The following categories may be distinguished.
(1) Burrowing snakes, which live under ground and
but rarely appear on the surface. They have a cylindrical
rigid body, covered with generally smooth and polished
scales ; a short strong tail ; a short rounded or pointed
head with narrow mouth ; teeth few in number ; small or
rudimentary eye ; no abdominal scutes or only narrow
ones. They feed chiefly on invertebrate animals, and
none are poisonous. (2) Ground snakes-, living chiefly on
the ground, and rarely ascending bushes or entering water.
Their body is cylindrical, flexible in every part, covered
with smooth or keeled scales, and provided with broad
ventral and subcaudal scutes. Ail the various parts of
their body and head are well proportioned ; the non-
poisonous kinds of ground snakes are in fact the typical
and least specialized snakes, and more numerous than
any of the other kinds. They feed chiefly on terrestrial
vertebrates. The majority are non-poisonous ; but the
majority of poisonous snakes must be referred to this
category. (3) Tree snakes, which are able to climb bushes
or trees with facility or pass even the greater part of
their existence on trees. Their body is rarely cylindrical,
generally compressed and slender; their broad ventral
scutes are often carinate on the sides. Those kinds which
have a less elongate and cylindrical body possess a dis-
tinctly prehensile tail. The eye is generally largo. Their
coloration consists often of bright hues, and sometimes
resembles that of their surroundings. Thoy feed on
animals which likewise lead an arboreal life, rarely on
eggs. Poisonous as well as innocuous snakes ore repre-
sented in this category. (4) Freshwater snakes, living in
or frequenting fresh waters ; they are excellent swimmers
and divers. The nostrils are placed on the top of tlie
snout and can bo closed whilst the animal is under water.
Their body is cylindrical, moderately long, provided with
narrow ventral scutes ; the tail tapering ; head flat, rather
short; and the eyes of small size. They feed on fish, frogi^
and other aquatic animals, and are innocuous and vivipar-
ous. (5) Sea snakes are distinguished by the compressed,
rudder-shaped tail, supported by erect neural and haanaJ
spines. They never leave the sea (With the exception ol
one genus) and are unable to mov« on land. They /6ed
on fishes, are viviparous and poisonons.
190
SNAKES
The majority of snakes are active during the day, their
energy increasing with the increasing temperature of the
air ; whilst some delight in the moist sweltering heat of
dense tropical vegetation, others expose themselves to the
fiercest rays of the midday sun. Not a few, however,
lead a nocturnal life, and many of them have, accordingly,
their pupil contracted into a vertical or more rarely a
horizontal slit. Those which inhabit temperate latitudes
hibernate. Snakes are the most stationary of all verte-
brates ; as long a^ a locality affor Is them a sufficiency of
food and some shelter to which they can readily retreat,
they have no inducement to change it. Their dispersal,
therefore, must have been extremely slow and gradual.
Although able to move with extreme rapidity, they can-
not maintain it for any length of time. Their organs of
locomotion are the ribs, the number of which is very great,
nearly corresponding to that of the vertebrae of the trunk.
They can adapt their motions to every variation of the
ground over which they move, yet all varieties of snake
£)comotion are founded on the following simple process.
When a part of the body has found some projection of
Fio. 1. — Diagram of natural locomotion of a Bnake.
the ground which affords it a point of support, the ribs
are drawn more closely together, on alternate sides, there-
'by producing alternate bends of the body. The hinder
[portion of the body being drawn after, some part of it (c)
rfinds another support on the rough ground or a projection ;
and, the anterior bends being stretched in a straight line,
the front part of the body is propelled (from a to d) in con-
sequence. During this peculiai locomotion the numerous
broad shields of the belly are of great advantage, as by
means of their free edges the snake is enabled to catch
• and use as points of support the slightest projections of
the ground. A pair of ribs corresponds to each of these
ventral shields. Snakes are not able to move over a per-
fectly smooth surface. Thus it is evident that they move
by dragging their body over the ground, or over some
Pio. 2. — Diagram of conventional idea of a snake's locomotion.
other firm base, such as fhe branch of a tree ; hence
the conventional representation of the progress of a snake,
in which its undulating body is figured as resting by a
series of lower bends on the ground whilst the alternate
bends are raised above it, is an impossible attitude. Also
the notion that snakes when attacking are able to jump
off the ground is quite erroneous; when they strike an
object, they dart the fore part of their body, which, was
retracted in several bends, forwards in a straight line.
And sometimes very act^ve snakes, like the cobra, advance
eimultaneouslywith the remainder of the body, which, how-
ever, glides in the ordinary fashion over the ground ; but
no snake is able to impart such an impetus to the whole
of its body as to lose its contact with the ground. Some
snakes can raise the anterior part of their body and even
move in this attitude, but it is only about the anterior fourth
or third of the total length which can be thus erected.
With very few exceptions, the integuments form imbri-
cate scale -like folds arranged with the greatest regular-
ity ; they are small and pluriserial on the upper parts of
the body ^nd tail, large and uniserial on the abdomen,
and geneftiily biserial on the lower side of the tail. The
folds can be stretched out, so that the skin is capable of
a great degree of distension. The scales are sometimes
rounded behind, but generally rhombic in shape and more
a snake (Ptyns Jtorros).
f;
or less elongate ; they may be quite smooth or provided
with a longitudinal ridge or keel in the middle line. The
integuments of the head are divided into non-imbricate
shields or plates, symmetrically arranged, but not cor-
responding in size or shape with the underlying cranial
bones or having any relation to them. The form and
nimiber of the scales „ n- l a p e
and scutes, and the
shape and arrange-
ment of the head-
shields, are of great
value in distin-
guishing the genera
and species, and it
win therefore be
useful to explain in
the accompanying
woodcut (fig. 3) the
terms liy which
these parts are de-
signated. The skin
does not form eye-
lids ; but the epi-
dermis passes over
the eye, forming
transparent disk,
concave like the
glass of a watchjFlo. S Head-shieWs of
Kpliinil Tsrltipli +>iA r. Rostral ;/, posterior frontal ;/', anterior frontal
Denina wnicn xne ^^ vertical ; s, Bupiaciliary or supraocular ; o, oc-
eye moves. It is cipjtal : n, n*, nasals ; I, loreal ; a, anterior ocular
/- * i.v or orbital, or pra'orbital or anteocular ; p, post-
tne lirst part wniCll oculars ; n, «, upper labials ; (, (, temporals ; m,
is cast off when "'""^!''*' '°""'^'''*^=!''' '■'='•'''■='''«'<'=•
the snake sheds its skin ; this is done several times in the
year, and the epidermis comes off in a single piece.
The tongue in snakes is narrow, almosi; worm-like, Toog^
generally of a black colour and forked ; that is, it terminates
in front in two extremely fine filaments. It is often
exserted with a rapid motion, sometimes with the object
of feeling some object,, sometimes under the influence of
anger or fear.
Snakes possess teeth in the maxillaries, mandibles, pala<
tine, and pterygoid bones, sometimes also in the inter-
maxillary ; they may be absent in one or the other of the
bones mentioned. In the innocuous snakes the teeth are
simple and uniform in structure, thin, sharp like needles,
and bent backwards ; their function consists merely in
seizing and holding the prey. In some all the teeth are
nearly of the same size ; others possess in front of the
jaws (Lycodonts) or behind in the maxillaries (Diacraa-
terians) a tooth more or less conspicuously larger than the
rest ; whilst others again are distinguished by this larger
posterior tooth being grooved along its outer face. The
snakes with this grooved kind of tooth have been named
Opisthoglyphi, and also Suspecti, because some herpeto-
logists were of opinion that the function of the groove of
the tooth was to facilitate the introduction of poisonoiw
saliva into a wound. The venomous nature of these
snakes, however, has "never been proved, and persons are
frequently bitten by them without any evil consequences.
Nevertheless as the dei*h of the groove, the length of
the tooth, and the development of the salivary glands in
its vicinity vary greatly, it is quite possible that the func-
tion and the physiologipai effect of this apparatus are not
the same in all Opisthoglyphs. In the true poisonous
snakes the maxillary dentition has undergone a special
modification. The so-called Colubrine Venomous snakes,
which retain in a great measure an external resemblance
to the innocuous snakes, have the maxillary bone not at
all, or but little, shortened, armed in front with a fixed,
erect fang, and provided with a deep groove or closedi
8 N A K E 8
191
canal for the oonveyance of the poison, tho fluid being
secreted by a special poison-gland. One or more small
ordinary teeth ma)' be placed at some distance behind this
poison-fang. In the other venomous snakes (Viperines and
Crotalines) the maxillai-y bone is very short, and is armed
with a single very long curved fang with a canal and
aperture at each end. Although firmly anchylosed to the
bone, the tooth, which when at rest is laid backwards, is
erectile, — the bone itself being mobile and rotated round
its transverse axis by muscles. One or more reserve teeth,
in various stages of development, lie between the folds of
the gum and are ready to take the place of the one in func-
tion whenever it is lost by accident, or shed, which seems
to happen at regular intervals. The gland which secretes
the poison is described under Reptiles (vol. xx. p. 457).
ed. All snakes are carnivorous, and as a rule take living
prey only ; a few feed habitually or occasionally on eggs.
Many swallow their victim alive ; others first kill it by
smothering it between the coils of their body (constriction).
The effects of a bite by a poisonous snake upon a small
Tnammal or bird are almost instantaneous, preventing its
escape ; and the snake swallows its victim at its leisure,
sometimes hours after it has been killed. The prey is
always swallowed entire, and, as its girth generally much
exceeds that of the snake, the progress of deglutition is
very laborious and slow. Opening their jaws to their
fullest extent, they seize the animal generally by the head,
and pushing alternately the right and left sides of the jaws
forward, they press the body through their elastic guUet
into the stomach, its outlines being visible for some time
through the distended walls of the abdomen. Digestion
is quick and much accelerated by the quantity of saliva
which is secreted during the progress of deglutition, and
in venomous snakes probably also by the chemical action
of the poison. The primary function of the poison-
apparatus in the economy of snakes is without doubt to
serve as the means of procuring their food. But, like the
weapons of other carnivorous animals, it has assumed the
secondary function of an organ of defence. Only very
few poisonous snakes (like Ophio-phagus elaps) are known
to resent the approach of man so much as to foUow him
on hia retreat and to attack him. Others, as if conscious
of their fearful power of inflicting injury, are much less
inclined to avoid collision with man than innocuous kinds,
and are excited by the slightest provocation to use that
power in self-defence. They have thus become one of tho
graatest scourges to mankind, and Sir J. Fayrer ' has de-
monstrated that in India alone annually some 20,000
human beings perish from snake -bites. Therefore it -fdW.
not be out of place to add here a few words on snake-
poison and on the best means (ineflfectual though they be
in numerous cases) of counteracting its deleterious eflFects.
toon of Chemistry has not yet sncceeded in separating the active princi-
»l«j. pie of snake-poison or in distinguishing between the secretions of
Ison different kinds of poisonous snakes ; in fact it seems to be identical
in all, and probably not different from the poison of scorpions and
many Eyvunoptera. The physiological effects of all these poisons
on warm-blooded Vertebrates arc identical, and vaiy only in degree,
the smallest fjuantities of the poison producing a local irritation,
whilst in senous cases the whole mass of the blood is poisoned
in the course of some s&conds or minatcs, producing paralysis
of t!»e nerve-centres. That there is soriio difference, however, in
the action of tho poisons upon tho blood has been shown by
Fayrer, who found tliat tho poison of Viperine snakes invariably
destroys its coagulability, whilst nothing of the kind is observed in
animals which perished from tho bite of a Colubrine Venomous
snake. The same observer has also experimentally demonstrated
that the blood of a poisoned warm-blooded animal assumes poison-
ous properties, and, when injected, kills like tho poison itself,
although the bodies of the animals may be eaten by man with
impunity. On tho other hand, ha has proved that the opinion
generally adonted since Rcdi's timo, viz., that snake-poison is
> TMthan<Uophidia of India, foL, Losdon, 1872.
efficacious only through direct injection Into the blood, is fallacioni
and that it is readily absorbed through mucous and serous mem-
branes, producing the same effects, though in a milder degree.
The degree of danger arising from a snake-bite to man depends
in the first place on the quantity of poison . injected : a large
vigorous snake which has not bitten for some time is more to be
feared than one of small size or one which is weakly or has ex-
hausted its stock of poison by previous bites. The bite of some of
the smaller Australian Diemenias and Hoploccphali is followed by
no worse consequences than those arising from the sting of a.
wasp or a hornet, while immediately fatal cases are on record of
persons bitten by the cobra or the large South-American Crotalines.
In the second place it-depends on the strength of the individual
bitten : a man of strong physical constitution and energetic
mental disposition is better able to survive tho immediate effects
of the bite than a child or a person wanting in courage. Thirdly,
it depends on the position and depth of the bite : the bite may
be merely a superficial scratch, or may penetrate into tissue hav-
ing few blood-vessels, and thus be almost "harmless ; or it may be
deep in vascular tissue or even penetrate a vein, producing im-
mediate and fatal effects. It must be mentioned also that Fayrer
is distinctly of opinion that the poison of some kinds is more
powerful than that of others. The mere shock produced by tho
bite of a snake upon a nervous person may be sufficiently severe
to be followed by symptoms of collapse, although no actual poison-
ing of the blood has taken place, or although the bite was that
of an innocuous snake. It is said that persons have actually
died under such circumstances from •*..*• '
mere fright. The local appearances • , , • _•* ; ', '•
in the neighbourhood of a poisoned • * '. • •" ; '. '.
wound, which soon after the bite is * ; '.'•'. 1 •
much swollen and discoloured and ' » I * • i
very painful, readily prove its char- I ' C I I *
acter ; but this can be often ascer- J I 1 t I •
tained also immediately after the ' " t * i •
bite by the inspection of the wound, * .* ' '• ! I
— the teeth, which are so differently • • I ; ; ; ,
arranged in poisonous and non- '. . I '
poisonous snakes, leaving a different ' ; * I
pattern on the skin. As a non- . . ; 1
poisonous snake has four rows of ' ; ; \
teeth in the upper jaw, the pattern • ' • ♦,
of its bite will more-or less resemble pj„ ^ ' p|_ g
fig. i, whilst » poisonous snake p,<,_ 4.lDiag«m of toottoaris of
leaves two rows OI more uistmctly an innocuous snake,
marked punctured wounds in the Fio. 5.— Diagram of toothmarlts «f •
place of the two outer series in the poisonous snake (cobra).
non-poisonous (see fig. 5). Of course, there may be modifications
of these patterns, as, for instance, when one fang only hits Or
penetrates the part aimed at, or when the direction of the stroke
13 slanting, producing merely a scratch.
Unfortunately no antidote is known capable of counteracting
or neutralizing tho action of snake-poison. Some years ago injec-
tions of ammonia or liquor potassa were recommended, but there
is the obvious objection that hardly in one out of a thousand cases
of snake-bite would either the appliances or tho operator bo at hand.
Fayrer's experiments, however, navo distinctly disproved the efficacy
of this remedial measure. Equally useless is permanganate' of
potassium ; it is indeed true that a solution of this compound
destroys tho properties of snake-poison when mixed with it ; and
therefore such of the poison as remains in the wound will bo
neutralized by tho external application or injection of tho perman-
fanate, but the remedy is entirely without effect after tho poison
as passed into the circulation. Treatment is therefore limited
to endeavours to prevent by mechanical means tho poison from
entering the circulation, or by chemical agencies to destroy or
remove as much of it as possible that remains in tho wound, and
to save the patient from the subsequent mental and physicsJ
depression by the free use of stimulants. Whatever is or can
be done must be done immediately, as a few seconds sufiice to
carry the poison into the whole vascular system, and the slightest
delay diminishes tho chances of tho patient's recovery. Courageous
persons badly bitten in a finger or toe are known to have saved
their lives by the immediate amputntion of the wounded member.
To tho mode of treatment summarized by Gunther' but little can
bo added. (1) If the wound is on some part of the extremities,
one or more ligatures should be made as tightly as possible at a
short distance above the wound, to atop circulation ; this is most
effectually done by inserting a stick under tho hgaturo and twisting
it to tho uttermost. The ligatures are left until means are taken
to destroy the virus in the wound and other rcmcdi:U measures
are resorted to, or until tho swelling necessitates their removal.
(2) Tho punctured wounds should be enlarged by deep incisions,
to cause a free efflux of tho poisoned blood, or should bo cut out
entirely. (3) The wound should bo sucked cither by tho pstiont
' JUptila o/BrUith India, Loadon, 1864, iUi,
192
SNAKES
m some other person whtise mouth is free from any solution of
continuity. Cupping-glasses, where they can be applied, answer
the same purpose, but not with the same effect. (4) By cauteriza-
tion with a red-hot iron, a live coal, nitrate of silTer or carbolic
«r mineral acid, or by injections of permanganate of potassium,
the poison which remains in the wound can ba destroyed or
neutralized. Ammonia applied to the wound as a wash and
rubbed into the neighbouring parts is likewise undeniably of great
benefit, especially in less serious cases, since it alleviates the pain
and reduces the swelling. (5) Internally, stimulants are to be
taken freely ; they do not act as specifics against the vims, but
are given to excite the action of the heart, the contractions of
which become feeble and irregular, to counteract the physical and
mental depression, and to prevent a complete collapse. Brandy,
whisky, and ammonia in any of its officinal forms should be taken in
large doses and at short intervals. The so-called "snake-stones"
can have no other effect than, at the best, to act as local absorbents,
«nd can be of use only in the very slightest cases.
Snakes are oviparous ; they deposit from ten to eighty
eggs of an ellipsoid shape, covered with a soft leathery shell,
in places where they are exposed to and hatched by moist
heat. The parents pay no further attention to them, except
the pythons, which incubate their eggs by coiling their body
over them, and fiercely defend them. In some families,
as many freshwater snakes, the sea snakes, Viperidse, and
Crotalidse, the eggs are retained in the oviduct until the
embryo is fully developed. These snakes bring forth living
young, and at e called " ovo-viviparous."
The order of snakes may be divided into the following
Bub-orders and families or groups.
First Sub-order. — Hopoterodontes.
Small burrowing snakes, with a cylindrical body, which is nearly
of the same thickness from its anterior to its posterior extremity,
and is covered with smooth polished scales of the same size in its
whole circumference. No mental groove. Head small, not distinct
from the trunk, with imbricate scale-like scutes. Eye rudimentary.
Mouth very narrow, at the lower side of the head, armed with small
teeth in one jaw only.
Family 1. Typhlopid*. — Teeth in the upper jaw only.
Genera : Typhlina, Onychocephalus, Typhlops (see figs. 6, 7).
FamUy 2. Stenostomatid^. — Teeth in the lower jaw only.
Genera : Stenostoma, Siagnodon.
Second Sub-order. — Ophidii Colubrifonnes.
Innocuous snakes. Teeth in both jaws, none of the anterior
being grooved or perforated. Scales more or less differentiated. A
mental groove is generally present. Eye developed.
Family 1. Tohtricid«. — Body cylindrical, with a rounded head
not distinct from the neck ; tail very short. Eudiments of hind
limbs hidden in a small groove on each side of the vent. Scales
rounded, polished, those of the ventral series but little enlarged ;
only one pair of frontals ; six upper labials. Eye small. Mouth ot
moderate width ; teeth few in number, sub-equal in size.
Genera : Ilysia (tropical America) ; Cylindrophis (India).
Family 2. Xenopeltid.b. — Bedy cylindrical, with a rounded head
not distinct from the neck ; tail short No rudimentary hind limbs.
Scales rounded, polished ; ventral shields well differentiated ; two
gairs of frontals ; occiput covered with five shields. Eye small,
[outh of moderate width ; teeth numerous, sub-equal.
One genus, from the Indian region : Xenoj-cltis.
Famuy 3. Uropeltidj: (Rough Tails). — Body cylindrical, with
a short head not distinct from tlie neck ; tail very short, trun-
cated or scarcely tapering, frequently terminating in a rough naked
disk or covered with keeled soales. Scales rounded and polished,
those of the ventral series being always somewhat larger than the
rest ; only one pair of frontals ; four upper labials. Eye very
jmall. llouth of moderate width ; teeth few in number, small,
sub-equal, none on the palate. Mental groove generally absent.
Small burrowing Indian snakes.
Genera : JUiiiiophis, Uropeltis, Silyhura, Plectrurus, Melan-
ophidUnn.
Family 4. Calamari:d«. — Small snakes, with a rather rigid
body ; the short head not distinct from the neck ; taU more or
less short. Scales in from thirteen to seventeen series ; ventral
■hields well developed, generally less than 200 in number ; the
normal number of licad-sliields always reduced by two or more of
them being confluent. Cleft of the mouth of moderate width ;
nostril lateral ; palatine teeth prosent.
African genera : Jluiaalosonia, Calamclaps, Prosymna, Opislho-
tropis, Xfiioralaiiiiis, Amblijodipsas^ Elapops, Urobelus, Uriechis.
Europeo-Asiatic gi-iiera : ]!hynchocalamux, Psilosoma. Indian
genera: Calainaria, MncrocahnnuSy Typhi ogcophis, Xylophis,
(ttycalamus, £rac/iyorrhos, Elapoides, £hinosimus, Aspidura,
Ilaploccrcus, Achalinus (Japan). North-American generaf?
Carphaphis, Conocephalus, Streptopharus, Canlia. Tropical
American genera : JTovialocranium, Arrhylcm, RhegTwps, Colo-
hogna(h%is, Geophidium, Catostcmia, Stentgnathus, Leptocala-
mus, Chersodromus, Elapomorphus, Cercocalamus, Microdromus,
SUnorhina, Bhinostoma, Rhynchonyx, Genua with wide dis-
tribution : Geophis.
Family 5. OLiGODONTrDa;. — Body rather rigid, covered with
smooth rounded scales ; head short, not distinct from neck, and
nearly always with symmetrical arrow-shaped markings above.
Ventral scutes broad ; rostral shield large, more or Jess produced
backwards. Maxillary teeth few in number, the hindmost enlarged,
not grooved. Indian.
Genera : Oligodon, Simotes.
FamOy 6. CoLUBKiDiE. — This family comprises the majority of
the non-venomous snakes and the least specialized forms. Their
body of moderate length compared to its circumference, flexible in
every part ; the head, trunk, and tail — in fact all parts — well pro-
portioned ; nostril lateral ; teeth numerous in the jaws and on
the palate, but without fangs in front or in the middle of th«
maxQlary. Double row of sub-caudals. This family may b*
divided in accordance with the general habitus or mode of life
into several groups, which, however, are connected by numerous
intermediate forms.
The group of (i.) Ground Colubrides, Coronellina, consists of
small forms, generally of brilliant coloration, and comprises the
following genera : —
Genera with wide distribution : Ablates, Cyclophis, Tachymenis,
Cororulla, Liopkis. African: Psammophylax, Ditypophis,
Indian : Megablabes, Aympkophidium, Odontomus. Tropical
American : Erylhrolamprus, Pliocercus, Hypsirhynchus.
The group of (ii. ) True Colubrides, Colubrina, are land snakes,
which swim well when driven into the water, or climb when in
search of food ; they are of moderate or rathsr large size.
Genera with wide distribution : Coluber, Elaphis, Plyas, Zamenis^
African genera : Xenurophis, EerpetsChiops, Scaphiophii. In-
dian genera : Compsosoma, Xenelaphis, Cynophis, LielaphisJ
Zytorhynchus. Europeo-Asiatic : Rhinechis. North-American :
Pituophis. South-American: Spiloles, Australian: Zamenophis.
The group of (iii. ) Bush Colubrides, Dryadina, leads up to the
true Tree snakes, its members having a more or less elongate aad
compressed body, frequently of green colour ; they are more numer-
ous in the New than in the Old World, and belong to the following
Genera : Dromiois, Serpetodryas, Uerpetortas, Philodryas, Diplg-
tropis, Zaocys, Dryocalamus,
Finally, the group of (iv.) Freshwater Colubrides, Natricina, ai^
generally neither elongate nor compressed, and possess frequently
keeled scales. They freely enter water in pursuit of their prey, —
chiefly frogs and fishes.
Genera with wide distribution: TropicUmotus, Eeterodon. African:
Grayia, Neusterophis, Zimnophis, Sydreelhiops, Macrophis.
Indian : Xenochrophis, Prymnomiodon, Atretium. North-
American : Ischnognathus. South-American : Xenodon, To-
modon.
Family 7. HoMAi,opsrD.« (Freshwater Snakes). — 9^dy of mode^
rate length, cylindrical or shghtly compressed ; head rather thickj
broad, not very distinct from neck ; tail strong, of moderate
length. Ventral scutes rather narrow ; double row of sub.caudals.
Eye small. Nostrils on the upper surface of the head, small, pro-
vided with a valve ; nasal shields enlarged at the expense of the
anterior frontals, which are frequently confluent into a single shield.
The other head shields may deviate from the usual arrangement.
Indian genera : Fordonia, Cantoria, Cerberus, Eypsirhina, Per-
ania, Eomalopsis, Eipistes, Eerpeton (see fig. 8), Gerrarda,
TachyploUiS. American genera : Calopisma, Eelicops, Ey-
drops, Thchynecles, Eydromorphus.
Family 8. Psammophid,e (Desert Snakes). — Loreal region very
concave. Scales smooth ; double row of sub-caudals. Cleft of the
mouth wide ; nostril lateral. Eye of moderate size. Shields of
the head normal ; posterior frontals rounded or angular behind ;
vertical narrow ; supracHiaries prominent. Loreal present. One
of the four or five anterior maxillary teeth longer than the others,
and the last grooved. Old World.
Genera : Psammophis, Ccelopeltis, Taphrometopon, Bhagerrhis,
Psammodynastes, Mimophis.
Family 9. RHACHiODONTlDi: (Egg-Eaters). — Body of moderate
dimensions ; head short, deep. Eyes small, pupil round. Seal is
strongly keeled, in twenty -three or twenty-five series. Maxillaiy
teeth very small and few in number ; the lower spinous processes
of the posterior cervical vertebrae penetrate the oesophagus and a<|
as supplementary teeth. African.
One genus : Vasypcltis (see fig. 9).
Family 10. Dendrophidj; (Tree Snakes). — Body and tail mucli
compressed or very slender and elongate ; head generally elongati
and distinct from the very slender neck ; snout rather long, obtuai
or rounded in front. Cleft of the mouth wide. Eye of moderatii
size or large, with round pupil. Shields of the head normal ; aealfit'
SNAKES
193
miicrally narrow ani much imbricate ; ventral srntes kccleil later-
Slly ; double row of sub-cauJals. No large fang eitlier iii front or in
tlie 101(11116 of the upper jaw.
African genera : Jiiu:cphalus, Hnpsidophrys, Rhamnophis, Pliilo-
thamiuts, Ithyajphii^. Indian and Auslralian genera : Gonyo-
soma, Phyllophis, Vcndrophii, Chrysopclca. Troidcal American :
AhsetuUa.
Family 11. Dkyophid.e (Whip Snakes). — Body and tail ex-
cessively slender and elongate ; head very narrow and long with
taRcring snout, which soiactimes is produced into a longer or shorter
appendage. Jlouth very wide. Eye of moderate size, generally with
a horizontal pupil. Scales verj' narrow, much imbricate ; double
row; of subcaudals. Posterior nia.\illary teeth grooved.
G«neia': Tropidococcyx, Cladopkis, Dnjophis, Tragops, Passerila
(see fig. 10), Langaha.
Family 12. Dipsadid.e. — Body much compressed, elongate or of
moderatj length ; head short, broad behind, with short rounded
snout distinct from neck. P>ye large, generally with vertical pupil.
Cleft of the mouth wide. Scales of the vertebral series frequently
enlarged. Dentition strong, frequently with enlarged anterior aud
posterior maxillary teeth.
Genera : Ckammlorttis, Leplodira, Tropidodipsas, Hcmidipsas,
Thamnudynastes, Dipsas, Dipsadohoa, Ehinobothryum, Pythono-
dipsas.
Family 13. ScvtALiDiE.— Head, trunk, and tail of moderate
dimensions. Eye of moderate size, with elliptical pupil. Scales
smooth, in seventeen or nineteen rows ; anal entire ; single or
double row of sub-caudals. Posterior maxillary teeth grooved,
anterior ones equal in length,
Genera : Scyiale, Oxyrhopus, Hologerrhum, Pseudoxyrhopus,
Pkinosimus,
Family 14. LycodontiD;E. Body of moderate length or rather
Elongate ; snout generally depressed, flat, and elongate. Eye rather
small, often with vertical pupil. Upper head-shields regular, with
the posterior fiontals enlarged, llaxillary with a fang in front,
but without posterior grooved tooth.
African genera : Boodon, Holuropholis, Alopecion, Lycopkidiuvi,
Bothrophtkalmus, Bothrolycus, Lycodryas, Hormonotits, SunO'
cephalus, Lamprophis. Indian genera : Lycodon, Dirwdon,
Tetragonosuma, Leptorhytaoii, Ophites, Cercaspis, Ulupe.
family .15. AMBLycErHALiD.E (Blunt Heads). — Body com-
pressed, slender, and of moderate length ; head slrort, thick, very
aisi- ct from neck ; nostril in a single shield. Eye with vertical
pupil. Cleft of the mouth narrow and not very extensible. Scales
smooth or fain' 'reeled, those of the vertebral series generally
enlarged. Maxillaiy dentition feeble, no grooved tooth.
In(Uan genera : liipsadomarus, Amblycephalus, Pareas, Astheno-
dipsas, Elachistodon. South-American genera : Lqilognathus,
Opisthophis.
Family 16. ERYClDi;{Sand
Bimkes). — Body of moderate
length, cylindrical, covered
with small short scales ; tail
Teiy ■ short, with a single ^'°' '
Bories of sub-caudals. Eye small, with vertical pupil. None of
the labials are pitted. Anterior teeth longest. AduJt individuals
of some of the species with rudiments of hind limbs.
Genera : Eryx, Cursoria, Gongylophis, Bolyeria, Erehophis, Lich-
anuTa, Calabaria, IVenona, Charina.
Family 17. BoiD^. — Body and tail of moderate length or elon-
gate ; tail prehensile ; snout rounded in front. Eye with vertical
pupil. Scales in numerous series ; single or double row of sub-
caudals. . In some of the genera the upper and lower labials are
pitted. Teeth strong, unequal in size, none grooved ; no inter-
maxillary teeth. Kudimcnts of hind limbs are generally present.
Genera: Boa (see fig. \\), Pdophilus, Xiph-osoma, Corallus, Epi-
crates, Chilnbotliriiis, Eniignis, J.eploboa, Ungalia, Tr/iehyboa.
Family 18. Pythonid.e (Rock Snakes). — Distinguished from
the preceding family by the presence of intermaxillary teeth.
Genera : Python (see fig. 12), ilorelia, Chondropylhon, Liasia,
Aspidiotes, Nardoa, Loxocemus.
Family 19. AciiociioiiDiD* (Wart Snakes).— Body of moderate
lenrth, covered with snial), non- imbricate, tubercillar or spiny
scales ; tail rather shoi t, prehensile. Head covered with scales
hke the body ; nostrils close together, at the top of the snout. Eye
small. Teeth short, strong, «ub-equal in size. Aquatic. Vivi-
parous. India.
Genera : AerorJiordvs, Chcrsydrus.
Family 20. Xenodehmid.e.— Distinguished from the preceding
bmlly by possessing broad veritral and sub-caudal scutes.
One genus : Xcnodermus (Java). ? Notliopsis (Central America).
Third Sub-order. — Ophidli Colubriformes Venenosi.
Venomous Colubrine snakes. An erect grooved or perforated
tooth in front of the maxillary which is not capable of rotation in
its transverse axis. Scales diifcreutiated. A mental groove.
Family 1. Elaj-ida — Tail conical, tap«riu^<<. Head with shield :
loreal absent. A'enom-fang grooved ; maxillary long, with short
teeth behind the fang.
Genus with wide distribution : Naja (see fig. 13). Indian genera:
Callophis, Meywrophia, JJemibtoigat-us, Xenurdaps, Bmiganu,
OjihiopJiogus. Alricaii genera : Pacilophis, Elapsoidca, Vyrt-
tqihis. South-American genus: .ff/a/)s (see fig. 14). Australian
genera : VermiccUa, Brachysoma, Aeclaps, Brachyiirophis,
j:hinc!aps, Dicmaiia, Cacophis, Boplocephalus, Troinduhis,
Pscudechis, Pscudonaja, Pseudohaje, Ogmodon.
Family 2. Atrac,taspidid.e. — Body cylindrical, of moderate pro-
portions ; tail short. Head short, not distinct from neck. Jloutli
nanow. Jlaxillary short, with perforated poison-fang, without
other teeth behind. Africa.
Genus ; Atraclaspis.
Family3. Causidj:. — Body of moderate proportions, tail moderate
or rather short. Head distinct from neck, ilouth wide. Jlaxil-
lary short, with perforated poison-fang, without other teeth behind
African genera : Sq'cdon, Causiis. South-American : Dinodipsat.
Family 4. Dinoi'H1D<e (Venomous Tree Snakes). — Body and
tail much elongate ; head distinct from neck, ilouth wide. A
perforated poison -fang, without other teeth behind. Africa.
Genus : Dinophis [Dendraspis).
Family 5. Hvdroi'HID.e (Sea Snakes). — Body generally com-
pressed, and without broad ventral scutes ; tail compressed, rudder-
shaped. Nostrils dii-ected upwards. Poisou-fangs small, grooved.
Viviparous.
Genera : Platiinis, Aipysurus, Disteira, Acalyptus, Bydrophia^
Enhydrv\a, Pelagophis, Pelamis (see fig. 15).
Fourth Suborder. — Ophidli Viperiformes.
Viperine snakes. Maxillary very short, capable of rotation in
its transverse axis, and armed with a single long tooth, wiiich is
perforated. Viviparous.
Family 1. Vipekid.e (Vipers). — Loreal region flat, without pit.
Old World genera : Vipera, Cerastes, Difhoia, Echis (see fig. 17),
Athens. Australian : Acanthophis.
Family 2. CaoTAiiDiE (Pit Vipers, Rattlesnakes). — Lioreal region
with a pit.
Old World geuevi : ffalys, BypnaU, Trimeresurus (see fig. 18),
Calloselasma, Peltopelor. New W orld genera : Cenchris, Both-
rops, Bolhriopsis, Bothriechis (Rhinocerophis), Atropos, Tri-
gonocephalus, Lachesis, Crolalophorus, Crotalus{see fig. 16).
This list, from which many genera or sub-genera that
are not well defined have been excluded, will give an
idea of the great variety of forms by which the Ophidian
type is represented at the present .period. Additions,
more or less numerous, are made to it every year ; but the
— Typhlops bothriorkyncniLS. from India..
discoveries of kte years have not revealed any new im-
portant modifications of structure, but rather have under-
mined the distinctions hitherto made be-
tween genera, groups, and familifis, so that
it would appear as if we were acquainted
with all the principal forms of snakes now
living.
We have now to add some notes on snakes
to which special interest is attached, or which
are most frequently brought to the notice of
the observer or reader. The snakes most ,
remote from the true Ophidian type are the i"!
members of the first family, Ti/p/ilopids.
They are a small degraded form, adapted for
burrowing and leading a subterranean life
like worms. Their body is cylindrical, rigid,
covered with smooth, short, highly polished,
and closely fitting scales, without broad ven-
tral scutes; tail very short; head joined to the
trunk without ncck-Iike constriction behind,
and short, rounded, or with an acute rostral Fio. t. — th™*
shield,— the principal instrument for bur- of''j>pwL.'''«^
rowing in loose soil or mould. Their eye is miniu (in<H»)k
quite rudimentary and can only give them a ""*"'
general perception of light. Their mouth is narrow, small,
armed with but a few teeth in one of the jaws, and not
distensible, allowing them only to feed on very amatt
194
S N A iL E S
animals, such as worms, larvse, and burrowing insects.
They are found in all tropical countries and the parts ad-
ioining, and some of the small species have a wide range,
having been probai)ly transported by accident on floating
objects to distant countries. ■ Some species attain to a
length of 24 inches, whilst others scarcely grow to one-
fourth that size.
An almost unbroken series leads from these degraded
worm-like snakes to the typical Colubridx, of which the
Smooth Snake of Europe (Coronella), the Corn Snake
of North America (Coluber), the Rat Snake of India and
South America (Fit/as, Spilotes), ^sculapius's Snake of
the south of Europe, the common Ring Snake of England
{Tropidonotus), are well-known representatives.
The Smooth Snake {Coronella Ixvis) is common in the
warmer parts of Europe, extending northwards into the
New Forest district of England. In coloration, general
habits, and size it somewhat resembles the viper ; but,
although it is rather fierce and ready to bite when caught,
it is quite harmless and soon becomes tame in captivity.
The shields on its head readily distinguish it from the
viper. Its chief food consists of lizards, and it attains a
length of 2 feet.
The Indian Rat Snakes {Ptyas mucosus and P. lorros)
are two of the most common species of India, the fosmer in-
habiting India proper
and Ceylon, the latter
the East Indian Archi-
pelago, Siam, and
southern China. P.
mucosus is a powerful
snake, attaining to a ^
length of 7 feet, the '
tail being one-third •
or rather more ; it is
easily recognized by
having three loreal
shields, one above the
other two ; its scales \
are Jirranged in seven- - ^
teen rows. Its food ^
consists of mammals,
birds, and frogs ; and
it frequently enters
the dwellings of man,
rendering itself useful
by clearing them of
rats and mice. It is
of fierce habits, always
ready to bite ; when
irritated it utters a ^"^
peculiar diminuendo
range. Naturalists believed formerly that the oocurrenee'
of this .snake at widely distant and isolated localities was
due to its introduction by the Romans, who had settVs-
ments in those localities.
The common British Snake or Ring Snake (Tropi-
donotus natrb:) is extremely common all over Europe
(except in the northern parts), and belongs to a gentia
extremely rich in species, which are spread over Europe,
Asia, India, Australia, and North America. Some of tho
species, like the Indian T. quincuiuiatus and T. stolatus and
the North-American T. ordinatus, are perhaps more abun-
dant as regards the number of individuals than any other
snake. T. natrix is easily recognized even at a distance
by two yellow or white spots which it has behind its head.
It grows rarely to a length of 4 feet ; it never bites, and
feeds chiefly on frogs and toads. Its eggs, which are of
the size and shape of a dove's egg, and from fifteen to
thirty in number, are deposited in mould or under damp
leaves, and are glued together into one mass.
A very peculiar genus of snakes, Da-sypeltis, represented
by three species only, is the tyjje of a separate family and
is restricted in its distribution to Central and South Africa.
In Cape Colony these snakes are well known under the
name of " eyervreter," i.e., " egg-eaters." Their principal
diet seems to consist of eggs, their mouth and oesophagus'
Fio. 9.-
sound, not unlike that produced by a tuning-fork when
struck gently.
./Esculapius's Snake {Coluber xsatlapit) was probably
the species held in veneration by the ancient Romans.
It grows to a length of about 5 feet, is of mild disposi-
tion, and can be readily domesticated. Its original home
is Italy, where it is common, but it has extended its range
northwards across the Alps into the south of France, and
thence into northern Spain. Following the course of the
Inn and the Danube, it
has reached the Black
Sea ; and' it la also now
common in several local-
ities along the middle
parts of the Rhine. From
iirect observations made
during the last twenty
years there can be no doubt that it is still extending its
Fio. 8.— Head of Ilerpeton tiTitaculatus.
Dasypeltia itnicolor, in the act of swaUowing a fowl's egg.
being so distensible that an individual scarcely 20 inches
in length, and with a body not surpassing a man's little
finger in circumference, is able to swallow a hen's egg.-
The teeth in the jaws are very small and few in number ;
but the inferior processes of the posterior cervical vertebriu
are prolonged and provided with a cap of enamel, and
penetrate the oesophagus, forming a kind of saw. As the
egg passes through the oesophagus its shell is broken by
this apparatus, and, whilst its contents are thus retained
and swallowed without loss, the hard fragments of tlio
shell are rejected. This peculiar apparatus occurs also in
another snake, Elnchistodon, which belongs to the Indian
fauna and has been referred (provisionally) to the family
Amblycephalids. Also two prominences at the base cf the
skull of the Indian Coronelline Nymphophidium probably
have the same function. Besides the snakes mentioned,
we have observed species of Dipsas feeding on eggs of
parrots, the eggs reaching «ie stomach entire, as these
SNAKES
195
snakes lack a special apparatus for breaking the shell,
rhe Indian cobra also is said to rob birds of their eggs.
The Tree Snakes {Dendropkids:) are among the greatest
ornaments of tropical fauna. The graceful form of their
body, the elegance and rapidity of their movements,
and the exquisite beauty of their colours have been the
admiration of all who have had the good fortune to watch
them in their native haunts. The majority lead an exclu-
sively arboreal life ; only a few descend to the ground in
search of their food. They prey upon every kind of
Fin. 10. Indian whip snake. I^oMtnta mydtHzant.
arboreal animal, — birds?, tree-frogs, tree-lizards, etc. All
ceem to be diurnal, and the larger kinds attain to a length
of about 4 feet. The most beautiful of all snakes are
perhaps certain varieties of Clirysopelea ornata, a species
extremely common in the Indian Archipelago and many
parts of the continent of tropical Asia. One of these varie-
ties is black, with a yellow .sjiot in the centre of each scale;
these spots are larger on the back, forming a series of
tetrapetalous flowers; the huad is similarly ornamented.
Another variety has a red back, with tairs of black cross-
bars, the bands of each pair being separated by a narrow
yellow space ; sides brown, dotted with black ; belly dark
green, the outer portion of each ventral shield being yellow,
with a blackish spot.
The features by which the tree snakes are distinguished Wklf.
are still more developed in the family of Wbip Snakes sn»l'»
{Dryopkidx), whose excessively slender body has been
compared to the cord of a whip. Although arboreal, like
the former, they are nocturnal in their habits, having a
horizontal instead of a round pupil of the eye. They are
said to be of a fierce disposition, feeding chiefly on bijds ;
and indeed a long tooth placed about the middle of the
maxillary seems to assist them much in penetrating the
thick covering of feathers and in obtaining a firm hold on
their victims. In some of the species the elongate form
of the head is still more exaggerated by a pointed flexible
appendage of the snout (Passenta), which may be nearly
half an inch in length, and leaf-like, as in the Madagascar
Langaha.
The well-defined family of Lycodontidx is chiefly com- j^^^^
posed of ground snakes, but a few of its members have a dont«»
sufliciently elongate body to indicate arboreal habits. The
Indian genera are principally reptilivorous, while the
African prey upon mice, rats, and other small nocturnal
mammals. Scarcely any other snake is so common in
collections as the Indian Lycodon aulicus, which inhabits
the continent of India and Ceylon, some of the islands o£
the East Indian Archipelago (Timor), and the Philippinesj
It occurs in many varieties, but generally is of a uniform
bro'mi, or with some whitish crossbands on the anterior part
of the body. Although only 2 feet long, it is a fierce
snake, which when surprised bites readily, but its bite is
innocuous.
The Boidx are so similar in their habits to the Pythons Bom.
(see Python, vol. xx. p. Ii4) that it is sufficient to refer
in a few words to the species most frequently mentioned
in the literature dealing with the fauna of the virgin
forests of tropical
America. The real
Boa constrictor is com
mon from the north- ;
em parts of Central
America to southern
Brazil, and is fre-
quently brought alive
to Europe. Generally
It is only about 7 feet
long; but the present
writer has seen skins
of specimens^ which
must have been nearly
twic« that length. The
giganticsnakesoffrom
20 to 30 feet in length
mentioned in books of South-American travels belong to a
different species, the Anaconda or B. murina, which has
the same habits as the B. constrictor, haunting the banks
of rivers and lakes and lying in wait for peccaries, deer, and
other mammals of similar size, which come to the water
to drink. It has already been stated (see Rkptiles) that
this family is not restricted to South America, but is well
represented in the tropical Pacific region. The Boid most
common in that region is Enygrits, which ranges all over
New Guinea, the Fiji Islands, the Solomon group, Samoa;
and many other Pacific islands ; it is of small size, scarcely
30 inches long.
We pass now to the Venomous Colubrine snakes, that is,
snakes which combine with tho possession of a perfect
poison apparatus the scutellation and general appcamnco
of tho typical noa-poisonou« snakes. It is a remarkablo
Fio. 11.— Hea*d of Boa cantiux.
Fio. 12.— Head of Pytiion rtticulutus.
196
SNAKES
fact, however, tlial the snakes of this sub-order agree in
the absence of the small shield on the side of the snout,
tbe so-called "loreal"; and this is all the more remarkable
as the same shield has by no means a similar taxonomic
significance in the non-venomous snakes, many of which are
without it, although it is present in the majority. No snake
of this sub-order is more widely knowTi and more dreaded
than the species of the genus JS'aJa or cobras. Probably
more than two species should be distinguished ; but the
two M-hich cause the greatest loss of life are the Indian
Cobra or Cobra di Capello or Naga {y. tripiidians) and
the African Cobra (^V. haje). In a report to the Bengal
Government the commissioner of Burdwan states that he
has ascertained from statistics collected during a series of
nine years that above 1000 persons are killed annually
by snakes in a population of nearly 6,000,000, the majority
being bitten by tlie cobra, which is by far the most common.
And other districts in India seem to suffer still more
severely, although it is difficult to obtain information of
all the accidents caused by snakes. The cobra is found
throughout India, extending westwards to the Sutlej and
eastwards to the Chinese island of Chusan ; in the Hima-
layan alps it reaches an altitude of 8000 feet ; it occurs
also in abundance in many of the islands of the East Indian
Archipelago, and is here joined by another apparently dis-
tinct species (A'', sputatrix), whilst in the central portions
of Asia, which geographically separate it from the African
cobra, it is replaced
by a fourth, N'. oxi-
ana. The Indian
cobra appears in
many varieties of
colour, which are
distinguished by
separate names in Fio. i3.-Hearir,f cnbm.
the nomenclature of the Hindu snake-charmers? ^The
ground colour varies from a yellowish olive to brown
and to black with or without whitish or white crossbands
on the back, and with from one to four or without any
black bars across the anterior part of the belly. Some
of these varieties are characterized by a pair of very con-
spicuous white, black -edged spectacle-like marks on the
expansible portion of the neck, called the "hood"; but these
marks may lose their typical form and become merely a pair.
of ocellated spots, or be confluent into a single ocellus, or
may be absent altogether. All these varieties, however, are
the same species, which generally attains to -a length of 5
feet, but sometimes exceeds 6. It is more of nocturnal
than of diurnal habits, feeding on every kind of small Ver-
tebrates and also eating eggs. The cobra and the other
species of this genus have the anterior ribs elongated, and
can move them so as to form a right angle with the
spine. The effect of this movement is the dilatation of
that part behind the head which is generally ornamented
with the spectacles or ocelli. When the cobra is irritated
or excited it spreads its " hood," raising the anterior third
of the body from the ground, gliding along with the pos-
'terior two-thirds, and holding itself ready to strike forwards
or sidewards. All accounts agree that the cobra is not
aggressive unless interfered with or impelled by a sense of
danger. It is said to share the habitations of man where
superstition prevents people from molesting it, and to live
peaceably with the inmates ; and there is no doubt that
professional snake-charmers exercise a certain control over
them, for, although generally the cobras exhibited are
rendered harmless by the removal of the poison-fangs, they
very rarely attempt to injure their masters even after the
fangs have been reproduced. Of the natural enemies of
the cobra, the mongoos (see vol. xii. p. 629) does probably
lUie grectest amount of execution ; Biany are destroyed by
fowls shortly after being hatched. The cobra is oviparous
depositing from eighteen to twenty-five eggs in the year.
The African cobra is extremely similar to its Indian con-
gener in size, form, and habits, and varies in coloration
to the same extent. It inhabits the whole of Africa, from
Egypt to the Cape of Good Hope, but has been nearly
exterminated in the cultivated districts of the Cape Colony.
One of its greatest enemies (as indeed of all snakes) is the
secretary bird of South Africa {Serpditarhis), which, there-
fore, is protected by law. Accidents from this snake do
not appear to be of common occurrence ; they happen
more frequently to domestic animals than to man. In the
Egyptian hieroglyphics the cobra occurs constantly with
the body erect and hood expanded ; its name was ovro,
which signifies " king," and the animal appears in Greek.
literature as ouraios and ba.iiliscus. With the Egjrptian
snake-charmers of the present day the cobra is as great a
favourite as with their Hindu colleagues. They pretend to
change the snake into a rod, and Geoffroy St-Hilaire main-
tains that the supple snake is made stiff and rigid by a strong
pressure upon its neck, and that the animal does not seem
to suffer from this operation, but soon recovers from the
cataleptic fit into which it has been temporarily thrown.
More dangerous than either of the species of cobra, opkio
which it exceeds in size, is Hamadryas or OphiophagtuV^H"^
daps, the largest poisonous snake of the Old World, ""f*-
attaining to a length of 14 feet. It has almost the same
geographical range as the cobra, but is much scarcer ; it
greatly resembles it also in general habit, but differs from'
it in scutellation, possessing three large shields behind the'
occipitals. It has the reputation of occasionally attacking
and pursuing man ; its favourite food consists of other i
snakes. Snake-charmers prize it highly for exhibition on
account of its size and its docility in captivity, but are'
always careful to extract the fangs. It lives in captivity
for many years.
The species of Bungarus, four in'niiint>er, are extremely Bnn;
common in India,Burmah, and Ceylon, and are distinguished gamm
by having only one row of undivided sub-caudal shields.
Three of the species have the body ornamented with black'
rings, but the fourth and most common {B. cosruleus), tte
" krait " of Bengal, possesses a dull and more uniform
coloration. The fangs of the bungarums'are shorter than
those of the cobras, and cannot penetrate so deeply int«
the wound. Their bite is therefore less dangerous and
the effect on the general system slower, so that there is
more prospect of recovery by treatment. Nevertheless,
according to Fayrer, the krait is probably, next to the
cobra, the most destructive snake to human life in India..
Several genera of this sub-order of Venomous Colubrines Narro'
are similar to the innocuous Calamariidx in general habit; ™°^"'
that is, their body is of a Tmifonn cylindrical shape, ^P*^'°'
terminating in a short tail, and covered with short
polished scales ; their head is short, the mouth rather
narrow, and the eye small. They are the tropical American
Elaps, the Indian Callophis, the African P<xcilophis, and
the Australian Vemiicella. The majority are distinguished
by the beautiful arrangement of their bright and highly
ornamental colours; many species of Elaps have the patterr
of the so-called cof4l snakes, their body being encircled
by black, red, and-yellow rings, — a pattern which is peculiai
to snakes, venomous as well as non-venomous, of the fatma
of tropical America. Although the poison of these narrow-
mouthed snakes is probably as virulent as that of the pre-'
ceding, man has much less to fear from them, as they bito
only under great provocation. Moreover, their bite must
be frequently vrithout serious effect, owing to their narrow,
mouth and the small size of their poison-fangs. They,
are also comparatively of small size, only a few species
rarely exceeding a length of 3 feet.
SNAKES
197
No part of the world possesses so many snakes of thus
gnb-order as Australia, where, in fact, they replace the non-
tfenomous Colubrine snakes. Of the genus Diemenia six
Species, of Pseudeckis three, and of Hoplocephalus some
twenty species have been described, and many of them are
extremely common and spread over a considerable area.
Fio. 14. — A i»o.3ouuus snake (Klaps /ulvivs) swallowing R non-poisonoU3
(^RomatocraniiLm semicinctum).
Fortunately the majority are of small size, and their bites
are not followed by more severe effects than those from
the sting of a hornet, especially if the simple measures of
Bucking or cauterizing the wound are resorted to. Only
the following are dangerous to man and larger animals :
— the Brown Snake (Diemenia superdliosa), found all over
Australia and attaining to a length of over 5 feet ; the
Black Snake {Pseudechis porphyriacus), likewise common
throughout the Aiwtralian continent, especially in low
marshy places, and upwards of 6 feet in length ; it is
black, with each scale of the outer series red at the base ;
when irritated it raises the fore part of its body and flattens
eut its neck like a cobra ; the Brown-banded Snake {Hoplo-
cephalus curtus), with a similar distribution, and also com-
mon in Tasmania, from 5 to 6 feet long, and considered the
most dangerous of the tribe.'
Afiaoan The small family Causidse contains two African genera
^lufdw. well known to and much feared by the inhabitants of
South Africa. One, Sepedoii kxmachates, is named by the
Boers "roode koper kapel" or "Ring-Neck Snake," the
latter name being, however, often applied also to the cobra.
It resembles in colour some varieties of the latter snake,
and, like this, it has the power, though in a less degree, of
expanding its hood. But its scales are keeled and its
form is more robust. It is equally active and courageous,
not rarely attacking persons who approach too near to its
resting-place. In confinement it evinces great ferocity,
opening its mouth and erecting its fangs, from which the
poison is seen to flow in drops. During such periods of
excitement it is even able, by the pressure of the muscles
on the poison-duct, to eject the fluid to some distance ;
hence it shares with the cobra a third Dutch name, that of
"spuw slang" (Spitting Snake). It grows to a length of 2
or 3 feet. The second African snake of this family is the
" schapsticker " (Sheep Stinger), Causus rhombeatus. It is
extremely common in South Africa and extends far north-
wards along the eastern as well as western coast. It is
of smaller size than the preceding and causes more injury
to animals, such as sheep, dogs, <fec., than to man. It
varies in colour, but a black mark on the head like an
inverted V remains nearly always visible.
' Good dcscrijitions and figures of all these uxtkea are given in
Krefft'e SnaJces of Auatralia, Sydney, 1869, 4to.
The Dinophida are the arboreal type of this sub-order ;
they resemble non-venomous tree snakes in their gracilo
form, narrow scales, generally green coloration, and in
their habits ; nevertheless the perfect development of their
poison-apparatus, their wide mouth, their large size (they
grow to a length of 7 feet), leave no doubt that they are
most dangerous snakes. They do not appear to be com-
mon, but are spread over all districts of tropical Africa ia
which vegetation flourishes.
Of Sea Sn2ikis,{Hydrophida:) some fifty species are known.
All are inhabitants of the trbpical Indo-Pacific ocean, and
most numerous in and about the Persian Gulf, in the East
Indian Archipelago, and in the seas between southern
China and northern Australia. One species which is ex-
tremely common {Pelamis bicolor), and which is easily re-
cognized by the black colour of its upper and the yellowish
tints of its lower parts (both colours being
sharply defined), has extended its range
westwards to the sea round Madagascar,
and eastwards to the Gulf of Panama.
Sea snakes are viviparous and pass their
whole life in the water ; they soon die
when bro '.ght on shore. The most striking
feature in their organization is their ele-
vated and compressed tail. The hind part
of the body is compressed, and the belly
forms a more or less sharp ridge. The
ventral shields would be of no use to
snakes moving through a fluid, and there-
fore they are either only rudimentary or
entirely absent. The genus Platurus, how-
ever, is a most remarkable exception in
having broad ventral shields; probably
these serpents frequently go on shore,
sporting or hunting over marshy ground.
In many sea snakes the hind part of the
body is curved and prehensile, so that
they are able to secure a hold by twisting
this part of the body round corals, sea-
weed, or any other projecting object. Their |
tail answers all the purposes of the same
organ in fish, and their motions in the
water are almost as rapid as they are un-
certain and awkward when the animals
are removed out of their proper element.
Their postrils are placed quite at the top f,o. i5._se» snake,
of the snout, as in crocodiles and in fresh- Fdamis bicolor.
water snakes, so that they are enabled to breathe whilst
the entire body and the greater part of the head are
immersed in the water. These openings are small and
subcrescentic, and are provided with a valve interiorly,
which is opened during respiration, and closed when the
animal dives. They have very capacious lungs, extending
backwards to the anus, and consequently all their ribs
are employed in performing the respiratory function; by
retaining air in these extensive lungs they are able to
float on the surface of the water without the slightest
effort, and to remain under water for a considerable
length of time. The scales of sea snakes are frequently
very different from those of other snakes : they overlap
one another in only a few species ; in others they are but
little imbricate and are rounded behind ; and in others
they are of a subquadrangular or hexagonal form, placctl
side by side, like little shields. The less imbricate they
are the more they have lost the polished surface which wc
find in other snakes, and are soft, tubercular, sometimes
porous. Sea snakes shed their skin very frequently ; but
it peels off in pieces as in lizards, and not as in the fresh-
water snakes, in which the integuments come off entire.
Several species are remarkable for the exttcmcly slender
i98
SNAKES
and i)roloiiged anterior part of the body, which is termed
the "neck," and terminates in a very small head. The
eye is small, with round pupil, which is so much con-
tracted by the light when the snake is taken out of the
water that the animal becomes blinded and is unable to
Lit any object it attempts to strike. The tongue is short,
and the sheath in which it lies concealed opens near to
the front margin of the lower jaw; scarcely more than the
two terminating points are
exserted from the mouth
.vhen the animal is in the
water. The mouth shuts in
a somewhat dififerent way
from that of other snakes:
the middle of the rostral
uhield is produced down-
wards into a small lobule,
which prevents the water
from entering the mouth ;
there is generally a small
notch on each side of the
lobule for the passage of the
two points of the tongue.
Cantor says that when the
snake is out of the water and
Fio. 16.— Rattlesnake ICrotalus duHisusi.
blinded by the light it freely makes use of its tongue as a
feeler. The food of sea snakes consists entirely of small
fish ; the present writer has found all kinds of fish in their
stomach, among them species with very strong spines
(Apoffon, Sikiroids). As all these animals are killed by the
poison of the snake before they are swallowed, and as their
inuscles are perfectly relaxed, their armature is harmless
to the snake, which commences to swallow its prey from
;he head, and depresses the spines as deglutition proceeds.
There cannot be the slightest doubt that sea snakes be-
long to the most poisonous species of the whole order.
Russell and Cantor have ascertained it by direct observa-
tion : tortoises, other snakes, and fish died from their bite
in less than an hour, and a man succumbed after four
hours. Accidents are rarely caused by them, because they
are extremely shy and swim away on the least alarm ;
but, when surprised in the submarine cavities forming their
natural retreats, they will, like any other poisonous terres-
trial snake, dart at the disturbing object ; and, when out
of the water, tlioy atloiupt to bite every object near them,
even turning round to wound their own bodies (Cantor).
They cannot endure captivity, dying in the course of two
or three days, even when kept in capacious tanks. The
greatest size to which some species attain, according to
positive observation, is about 12 feet, and therefore far
short of the statements as to the length of the so-called
sea serpents (see Se.\-seepen"t). The largest examples the
present writer has seen measured only 8 feet.
Passing over Rattlesnakes (fig. 16) and Vipers, which
are treated of in separate articles, we notice the following,
tyi^es of the fourth sub-order, the Ophidii viperiforvies.
The sole representative of the sub-order in Australia is
the Death Adder {Acantkopkis antarciica), a short siont
snake havir.g a similar habitus and habits to vipers and!
scarcely tttairing 3 feet in length. It differs from the
Fig. 17. — ijitiis t'arinnia (India).
other Viperines in having the poison-fang permanentljr
erect. Although much feared, and justly, there is reason
to believe that its bite is not so dangerous as has been
represented, and that the majority of the fatal accidentf
ascribed to it are in fact caused by other snakes, probably
Hoplocephalus curtus. It occurs throughout the whole.o/
Australia, except Tasmania and perhaps South Australia.
Generally it is of a uniform grey colour, relieved by somt
forty dark rings of irregular outline. i
The " tio-polonga '* of the Singalese (Dabcia russtUii)
is beautifully marked : on a light chocolate ground co\ xir
three series of large black white-edged rings run along toe
back and sides of the body , a -j-ellow line borders the
surface of the head on each side, the two lines being con
vergent on the snout. It attains to a length of 50 inches,
and occurs locally in abundance in southern India, whera
it is called " cobra monil " j in Bengal, where it is called
"jessur"; in the plains of central India, as well as in th^
Himalayas to an altitude of 6000 feet; and in liurmah.
It U highly poisonous, probably causing many death-
SNA-
Fortunately its loud hissing when disturbed warns those
who come within da-ngerous proximity to it.
"the small Viperine snake, Echis carinala (fig. 1 7), which
scarcely exceeds a length of 20 inches, shares with the pre-
ceding part of its range, being found in the arid districts
of southern India, and extending through the intervening
parts of Asia to North Africa. It is a desert type, having
the lateral scales curiously arranged, strongly keeled, with
the .tips directed downwards. It produces with their aid
a rustling sound. Whilst some observers deny that fatal
consequences have resulted from its bite, Dr Imlach reports
that it (the "kuppur"') is " the most deadly poisonous snake
N E
199
Fio. lB,~~TrimeTtsuru3 trythnints (India).
|flx Sind." This desert type is replaced farther south in
Africa where vegetation flourishes by a closely allied genus,
Atkeris, which, however, possesses a prehensile tail and
vivid coloration and has assumed truly arboreal habit's.
Of the pit vipers without rattles the largest and most
formidable inhabit tropical America. Trigonocephalus
iararaca, T. alrox, and T. lanceolatm attain to a length of
6 feet, the first two being common in Brazil and north-
wards to Central America. The last is limited to some
islands in the West Indies, especially Martinique and St
Lucia, and is generally known by the name of " fer de
lance," which has been given to it from the markings on
its head. It infests the sugar-plantations, and has greatly
multiplied in consequence of the protection which the cover
of the cane-fielda afforded it, and the abundance of food
supplied by the rats which swarm on the plantations.
Thus, whilst it did a certain amount of good by the
destruction of -vermin, it caused a great number of
deaths among the black labourers who were engaged in
the fields. These three species of Trigonocephalits are sur-
passed in size by Lachesis mutus, probably th« largest of
terrestrial poisonous snakes, which is said to exceed a
length of 10 feet, and is bulky in proportion. It is con-
fined to the hottest parts of tripical America. Similar
snakes, but smaller in size, inhaoit the wanner and tem-
perate parts of 'North America, viz., the Copper-head
{Cenchris confortrir) and the Crater -mocassin (C pisci-
vonis), the former of terrestrial habits, the latter being
always found near water and feeding chiefly on aquatic
animals. Both are much feared and cause accidents more
frequently than rattlesnakes, being more aggressive and
striking the intruder without previously warning him of
their presence. In the Indian region this type of pit
vipers without rattles is likewise . well represented, one
genus {Triineresurus) being adapted for an arboreal life,
like Athens among the Viperidx. Their body (fig. 18) is
not more elongate than that of other ground Crotalines, but
their tail is prehensile, and their colour generally resembles
that of the bright foliage among which they live. Some-
ttmes bright yellov/ or red markings render these snakes
still more pleasing to the eye. Accidents caused by them
are of not uncommon occurrence, but fortunately only a few
individuals exceed a length of 2 feet, and the consequences
of their bite are less to be dreaded than of that of other
allied genera. Indeed, numerous cases are on record
which show that the constitutional symptoms caused by
their poison were of short duration, lasting only from two
to forty-eight hours, and being confined to nausea, vomit-
ing, and fever. The bite of larger specimens, of from 2 to
3 feet long, is more dangerous and has occasionally proved
fatal. They feed on frogs, mammals, and birds, (a. c. g.)
SNAKE- STONE, a name sometimes applied to Water-
of-Ayr stone (see Hone, vol. xii. p. 134). Certain stones
reputed, on insufficient grounds, to possess efficacy as
antidotes to snake-bites are known as snake-stones (see
above, p. 192). The term is also popularly applied to
ammonites and certain other fossils which, owing to their
spiral shape, were formerly regarded as petrified snakes.
SNEEK, a town of the Netherlands, in the province of
Friesland, 18 miles south-south-west of Leeuwarden, with
which it is connected by canal and (since 1885) by rail.
It is one of the great butter and cheese markets of the
country and has communal buildings (1863), a town-house,
a court-house, an orphanage, a synagogue, and several
churches, in one of which ^the Groote or Maartenskerk)
is the tomb of the naval hero Lange Pier (Long Peter).
The population of the town was in 1870 8456; that of
the commune, which numbered only 3253 in 1714, was
9248 in 1870 and 10,496 in 1880.
Sneck appears in the list of Frisian towns in 1268. It was almost
reduced to ashes in 1295, and again in 1417 and 1457. In 1515 it
was attacked and in 1517 formally besieged by the Burgundians.
A diet met in the town in the close of tliis latter year ; and long
after, in 1C72, Sneek was again the seat of an assembly of the states.
Ill 1570 and in 1825 there were severe inundations.
SNELL, WiLLEBROED (1591-1626), commonly known
as Snellius, astronomer and mathematician, was born at
Leyden in 1591. In 1613 he succeeded his father as
professor of mathematics in the university of Leyden.
In 1615 he planned and carried into practice a new
method of finding the dimensions of the earth, by deter-
mining the distance of one point ou its surface from the
parallel of another, by means of a triangulation. His
work Eratosthenes Batavus, published in 1617, describes
the method and gives as the result of his operations be-
tween Alkmaar and Bergen -op -Zoom a degree of the
meridian ccpial to 55,100 toiscs= 117,449 yards. (A later
recalculation has given 57,033 toises = 121,569 yards, after
applying some corrections to the measures indicated by
himself.) Snell also distinguished hini.sclf ns a niathe-
matieian, and discovered the law of refraction, which,
200
S N I — S N 1
■howeTer, is generally attributed to Descartes, ^vho made
it more widely known. Snell died at Leydeu on 30tb
October 1626.
lu addition to tlie EmtosCkettcs Batavuslie published Cydomclria
sue de circiili dimcnsione (Leyden, 1621, 4 to), and edited Call cl
sidcrum in eo crrantium observatioiics Hassiacse. (ibid., 1618, 4to),
containing tlie astronomical observations of Landgrave William
IV. of Hesse, i About his Tiphys Batavus s. Uistiodromlcc, de
tinoimn cursebiis ct re navali (1624), see Navigatio.v, vol. xvii. p.
255; ■note. A trigonometry {Doctrina triangulorum) by him was
published a year after his death.
SNIPE (Anglo-Saxon Suite, Icelandic Snipa, Dutch
Snip, German Schnepfe), one of the commonest Limicoline
birds, in high repute no less for the table than for the
exciting sport it affords. It is the Scolopax gallinar/o of
Linnaeus, but by many later writers separated from that
genus, the type of which is the Woodcock {q.v.), and
hence has been variously named Gallinayo aelestis, G.
media, or G. scolopacina. Though considerable numbers
are still bred in the British Islands, notwithstanding the
diminished area suitable for them, most of those that fall
to the gun are undoubtedly of foreign origin, arriving from
Scandinavia towards the close of summer or later, and many
will outstay the winter if the weather be not too severe,
while the home-bred birds emigrate in autumn to return
the following spring. Of late years British markets have
been chiefly supplied from abroad, mostly from Holland.
The Snipe is fortunately too well known to need description, for
a description of its variegated plumage, if attempted, would be
long. It may be noticed, however, as subject to no inconsiderable
variation, especially in the extent of dark markings on the belly,
flanks, and axiUaries, while examples are occasionally seen in which
no trace of white, and hardly any of buff or grey, is risible, — the
place of these tints being taken by several shades of chocolate-
brown. Such examples were long considered to form a distinct
species, the S. sabuiii, but its invalidity is now generally admitted.
Other examples in which buflf or rust-colour predominates ha,ve also
teen deemed distinct, and to these has been applied the epithet
Tussata. Again, a slight deviation frflm the ordinary formation of
the tail, whose rectrices normally number 14, and present a rounded
termination, has led to the belief in a species, S. brchmi, now wholly
discredited. But, setting aside two European species, to be pre-
sently noticed more particularly, there are at least a score, more or
less nearly allied, belonging to various parts of the world, for no
t'onsiderable territory is without its representative. Thus North
America produces G. wilsoni, so like the English Snipe as not to be
easily distinguished except by the possession of 16 rectrices, and
Australia has G. austraiis, a larger and somewhat differently
coloured bird with 18 rectrices. India, while atlbrding a winter
resort to multitudes of the common species, which besides Eurojie
extends its breeding range over the whole of northern Asia, has
the so-called Pin-tailed Snipe, G. stenura, in which the number of
rectrices is still greater, varying from 20 to 28, it is said, though
22 seems to be the usual number. This curious variability, de-
serving more attention than it has yet received, only occurs in the
outer feathers of the series, which are narrow in forni and extremely
stiff, there being always 10 in the middle of ordinary breadth.
Those who only know the Snipe as it shows itself in the shoot-
ing-season, when without warning it rises from the boggy ground
Jittering a sharp note that sounds like scape, sc(i2K, and, after a
few rapid twists, darts away, if it be not brought doivn by the gun,
to disappear in the distance after a desultory flight, have no con-
ception of the bird's behaviour at breeding -time. Then, though
flushed quite as suddenly, it will fly round the intruder, at times
almost hovering over his head. But, if he have patience, he will
see it mount aloft and there execute a series of aerial evolutions of
an astounding kind. After wildly circling about, and reaching a
height at which it appears a mere speck, where it winnows a random
zigzag course, it abruptly shoots downwards and aslant, and then
as abruptly stops to regain its former elevation, and tliis process
it repeats many times. A few seconds, more or less according to
distance, after each of these headlong descents a mysterious sound
strikes his ear — compared by some to drumming and by others to
the bleating of a sheep or goat,^ which sound evidently comes
from the bird as it shoots downwards, and then only ; but how the
sound is made is a question on which irany persons are still unde-
cided. There are those who maintain that it proceeds from the
throat, while some declare it is produced by the wings, which
sharp-sighted observers say they can see in tremulous motion.
^ Hence iu many languages the Snipe is 'kno^vn by names signifying
•"'Flying Goat," "Heaven's Ram," as in Scotland by "Heather-bleater."
Others, again, assert that it is caused by the vibration of the webs
of the outer rci-trii-es, and these lust have in sup[iort of their
opinion the fact that a similar sound maybe made by allixing those
feathers to the end of a rod and drawing them lapidly downwaixJs
in the same position as they occupy iu the bird's tail while it is
|>erforniing the feat." But, however it be produced, tho air will
also ring with loud notes tliat have been syllabled tinker, linker,
tinker, while other notes in a different key, something like djepp,
djcjjp, djcpp rapidly uttered, may be heard as if iu response. TlA
nest is always on the ground and is a rather deep hollow wrought
in a tuft of herbage, and lined with dry grass-leaves. The eggs
are four in number, of a dark olive colour, blotched and spotted
with rich brown. The young when Cicshly hatched are beautifully
clothed in down of a daik maroon, variegated with black, whitey
and bulf.
The Double or Solitary Snipe of English sportsmen, S. major~^
larger species, also inhabits northern Europe and may be readily re-
cognized by the white bars iu its wings and by its 16 or occasional!/
IS rectrices. It has also a very difiVrcnt behaviour.' When flnshctl
it rises without alarm-cry, and flics heavily. In the breeding
season much of its love-perforniance is exhibited on the ground, and
the sounds to which it gives rise are of another character ; but tho
exact way in which its "drumming" is etfectcd has not been ascer-
tained. Its gesticulations at this time have been well described hy
Prof. Collett in a communication to Mr Dresser's Biids of Eiuvpe
(voh vii. pp. 635-637). It visits Great Britain every year at the
close of summer, but in very small numbers, and is almost always
seen singly — not uncommonly iu places where no one could exjicct
to find a Snipe.
The third species of which any details can here be given is tlie
Jack-' or Half-Snipe, S. gallinula, the smallest and most beautifully
coloured of the group. Without being as numerous as the coinmoa'
or full Snipe, it is of frequent occurrence in Great Britain from Sep- \
tember to April (and occasionally both earlier and later); bnt iti
breeds only, so far as is known, in northern Scandinavia and Russia;
and the first trustworthy information on that subject was obtaineil
by Wolley in June 1S53, when he found several of its nests neai'
Sluonioniska in Lapland.* Instead of rising wildly as do most of
its allies, it generally lies so close as to let itself be almost trodden
upon, and then takes wing silently, to alight at a short distance (if
it escape the gun), and to return to the same place on the morrow.
In the breeding-season, however, it is as noisy and conspicuous as'
its larger brethren while executing its aerial evolutions.
As a group the Snipes are in several respects highlyj
specialized, but here there is only space to mention the
sensitiveness of the bill, which, though to some extent
noticeable in many Sandpipers (see vol. xxi. p. 260), is in
Snipes carried to an extreme by a number of filaments,
belonging to the fifth pair of nerves, which run almost to
the tip, and open immediately under the ^oft cuticle in a
series of cells that give this portion of the surface of tho
premaxillarie,?, when exposed, a honeycomb-like appear-
ance. Thus the bill becomes a most delicate organ of
sensation, and by its means the bird, while probing for
food, is at once able to distinguish the nature of the objects
it encounters, though these are wholly out of sight. So
far as is known, the sternum of all the Snijies, except the
Jack-Snipe, departs from the normal Limicoline forma-
tion, a fact which tends to justify the removal of that
species to a separate genus, LiimiocryptesJ' (a. n.)
-^ Ct. Jleves, (Efvers. K. Vet.-Akad. Fiirh., 1856, pp. 275-277 (transl.
Nauinannia, 1858, pp. 116, 117), and Proc. Zool. Society, 1858, p.
202, with WoUey's remarks thereon, Zool. Garten, 1876, pp. 204-208.
^ Though this word is clearly not intended as a nickname, such as
is the prefix which custom has applied to the Daw, Pie, Redbreast,
Titmouse, or Wren, one can only guess at its origin or meaning. It
may be, as in Jackass, an indication of ^ex, for it is a popular belief
that the Jack-Snipe is the male of the common species ; or, again, it
may refer to the comparatively small size of the bird, as the "jack" in
the game of bowls is the smallest of the balls used, and as fisliermea
call the smaller Pikes Jacks.
* His account was published by Hewitson in May 1855 {Eggs Dr.
Birds, 3d ed., ii. pp. 356-358).
* The so-called Painted Snipes, forming the genus Bhynclima,
demand a few wordc. Four species have been described, natives
respectively of South America, Africa, India with China, and Australia.
Iu all of these it appears tliat the female is larger and more brilliantly
coloured than the niale, and in the Australian species slie is further
distinguished by wliat in most birds is emphatically a masculine pro-
perty, though its use is here unknown, — namely, a complex trachea,
while the male has that organ simple. , He is also beUeved to uudem
take the duty of Incubation.
S N O — S N O
201
SNORRO STURL^SON (Snorri, son of Sturla) (1179-
1241), the celebrated Icelandic historian, born in 1179, the
youngest son of a chief in tlieVestfirSir (western fiords), was
brought up by a powerful chief, Jon Loptsson, in Odda, who
seems first to have awakened in him an interest for history
and poetry. His career begins with his marriage, which
made him a wealthy man; in 1206 he settled at Reykjaholt,
where he constructed magnificent buildings and a bath of
hewn stones, preserved to the present day, to which water
was conducted from a neighbouring hot spring. He early
made himself known as a poet, especially by glorifying
the exploits of the contemporary Norse kings and earls ;
at the same time he was a learned lawyer, and from 1215
became the "logsogumaSr," or president of the legislative
aissembly and supreme court of Iceland. The prominent
features of his character seem to have been cunning, am-
bition, and avarice, eombined with want of courage and
aversion to eS'ort. By royal invitation he went in 1218
to Norway, where he remained a long time with the young
king Hakon and his tutor Earl Skuli. When, owing to
disputes between Icelandic and Norwegian merchants,
Skuli thought of a military expedition to Iceland, Snorro
persuaded him to give up this plan, promising to make
the inhabitants submit to Hakon of their own free will.
Snorro himself became the "lendrmaSr," vassal or baron,
of the king of Norway, and held his lands as a fief under
him. On his return home Snorro sent his son to the king
as a hostage, and made peace between Norway and Iceland,
but his power and influence were used more for his own
enrichment and aggrandizement — he was " logsbgumatSr "
again from 1222 to 1232 — than for the advantage of the
king. Hakon, therefore, stirred up strife between Snorro's
kinsman Sturla and Snorro, who had to fly from Reykjaholt
io 1236 ; and in 1237 he left the country and went back
to Norway. . Here he joined the party of Skuli, who was
meditating a revolt. Learning that his cousin Sturla in
Iceland had fallen in battle against Gissur, Snorro's son-in-
law, Snorro, although expressly forbidden by his liege lord,
returned to Iceland in 1239 and once more took possession
of his property. Meanwhile Hakon, who had vanquished
Skuli in 1240, sent orders to Gissur to punish Snorro for
his disobedience either by capturing him and sending him
hack to Norway or by putting him to death. Gissur took
the latter course, attacked Snorro at his residence, Reykja-
lit>lt, and slew him on 22d September 1241.
Snorro is the author of the £dda and of the Sagas of the Nor-
vxgian Kings. The Edda, now called the Prose Edda, to distiDgmsh
it from the Poetic or SiPmvmd's Edda, was finished in 1222, and con-
rists of three parts. (1) The Gytfaginning, or the Delusion of Gylfi,
with a sliort preface, gives a summary of the ancient Norse myth-
ology) founded on the Vbluspd and other mythical poems; the
author gives a euhcmeristic acoonnt of the ancient gods, regarding
them aa chiefs versed in witchcraft who had immigrated to the
north and there introduced their special religion. (2) The Skdlds-
kaparmdl, or Art of Poetry, gives, .under the form of a dialogue
Uetween the god liragi and the giant Qbtun) .^gir, an explanalion
of all figurative mythological expressions of the ancient poetry,
and the rules for using them. (3) The Bdtlalal, or Enumeration of
Metres, is a running commentary on three poems composed by
Snorro in 1222 in honour of Hakon and Skuli, tlio stanzas of which,
numbering about a hundred, are each in a didcrcn't metre. In the
MSS. the Edda has received many additions, which are wrongly
•scribed to Snorro. For different editions see Edda. The Sagas of Ui*
i^OTwegian Kings gives a connected series of biographies of the kings
of Norway down to Svcrri in 1177 ; here tire author stops, because
flio history of Sverrl and his successors had already been written.
The worK opens with the Vnglinga Saga, a brief history of the pre-
tended immigration into Sweden of the jEsir, of their successors in
that country, the kings of Upsala, and of the oldest Norwegian kingji,
their descendants. Next como the biographies of the succeeding
Norwegian kings, the most detailed being tnooo of the two misiion-
ary kings Olaf Tryggvason and St Olaf. Snorro'* sources were partly
succinct histories of the malm, as llie chronoloRioal sketch of Ari ;
partly more voluminous caily rstlieccions of traditions, as rhft A'orrf/s
Konungntal ( Fagrskirinnj and the Jarlasaga ; partly J'jgendary
l)i(:t(r<iphi«s of'Lu twc Ulafs; and, in addition to these, studies and
collections which he hiciself made during his journeys in Nor-
way. All these he worked up with great independence and critical
sagacity into an harmonious whole. His critical principles are ex-
plained in the preface, where he dwells on the necessity of starting
as much as possible from trustworthy contemporary sources, or at
least from those nearest to antiquity, — the touchstone by which
verbal traditions can be tested being contemporary poems. Ho
inclines to rationalism, rejecting the marvellous and recasting
legends containing it in a more historical spirit ; but he makes aii
exception in the accounts of the introduction of Christianity into
Norway and of the national saint St Olaf. Snorro's style is peculiar
to himself. He strives everywhere to impart life and vigour to his
narrative, to express the sentiments and feelings of tlie actors, atid
he gives the dialogues in the individual cl»racter of each person.
Especially in this last he shows a tendency to epigram and often
uses humorous and pathetic expressions. Besides his principal
work, he elaborated in a separate form its better and larger part,
the History of St Olaf (the great Olafs Saga). In the preface to"
this he gives a brief extract of the earlier history; and, as an appen-
dix, a short account of St Olafs miracles after his death ; here too
he employs critical art, as appears from a coninarison with his
source, the Latin legend.
The Sagas of the Norwegian Kings has been preserved in several MSS. of tlit
13th century ; the oldest of these, no longer extant, had lost at an early period
its first leaf containing the preface, and thus came to bepin with the words,
Kringlaheimsins(=orhis terrarum), which caused first this M.S. and later(at>out
1700) the whole work to be called the Heimskringla. Editions: — by Pering-
skiold, 3 vols, fol., Stockholm, 1607; byGerhard Schoning and SkcleTliorlacios,
3 vols, fol., Copenhagen, 1777-I7S3; by C. R.Unger, 1 vol. 8vo, Christinnia, 1868.
Modern translations : — into Danish, by N. F. S. Grundtvfg, 1818-22 ; Norwegian,
by Jacob Aall, 1833-39, and by P. A. Munch, 1859 ; Swedish, by Richert, 181ft-
29, and by H. HUdebrand, 1869-71 ; German, by Wachter, 1835-36 ; English, by
Laiug, 1844. (G. S.t)
SNOW. See Meteorology, vol. xvi. p. 154 ; also
Geology, vol. x. pp. 280-281.
SNOWDROP, Galanikus nivalis, is the best- known
representative of a small genus of Amaryllids, all the
species of which have bulbs, linear leaves, erect flower-
stalks, destitute of leaves but bearing at the top a solitary
pendulous bell-shaped flower.' The white perianth is six-
parted, the outer three segments being larger and more
cobvex than the inner series. The six anthers open by
pores or short slits. The ovary is three-celled, ripening
into a three-celled capsule. The snowdrop is a doubtful
native of Great Britain, but is largely cultivated for market
in Lincolnshire. There are numerous varieties, diSering
in the size of the flower and the period of flowering. The
double form is probably the least attractive. Other dis-
tinct species of snowdrop, not to be confounded with the
varieties before mentioned, are the Crimean snowdrop,
G. plicatus, with broad leaves folded like a fan, and 6'.
Elwesii, a native of the Levant, with .large flowers, the
three inner segments of which have ai^uch larger and
more conspicuous green blotch than the commoner kinds.
All the species are very graceful, and as universal favourites
amply repay cultivation.
SNOW-SHOES are a kind of foot gear used by Indians
and trappers in Canada for travelling ovef the frozen surface
of snoW'. In the long North-American winters they are the
sole means of locomotion when railways and roads are snowed
up, as the frozen surface of snow is not sufficiently consistent
to support the weight of the human body without artificial
aid. The snow-shoer protects his feet by wearing moccasins
of moose-skin. The framework of a snow-shoe consists of
a long narrow piece of pliable hickory wood, placed edge-
ways and then bent round witli an oval-shaped front, and
is adorned on the sides with^ufts of crimson wool. The
ends taper gradually to the rear, where they are fastened
firmly to each other. The total length is about 39 inche."*
and the width from 13 to 16 inches. Across the oval, and
fitted into the inside of the framework by mortices, are
two battens of wood, 5 or 6 inches clear of both ends.
Over the frrnt one at an open space a deerskin thong i.n
fastened, forming an aperture for the reception of the
great toe. The tliong is then crossed over the top of the
foot, passed round and tied to the sides. This loaves the
heel free to move up and down on the shoe and rests tho
weight of it on the toes. Over the remainder of tho oval
202
S N U — S O A
is stretched a network of tightly drawn strips ol leather.
At a convention held in Montreal on 30th December 1871
a rule w^s passed that a " pair of racing shoes, including
strings, shall not weigh less than H lb nor measure less
than 10 inches of gut in width." The motion of a snow-
shoer in the distance is curious and resembles that of some
ungainly web-footed animal. On using the implements
the knees must be turned inwards and the fore part of
the feet outwards to avoid wounding the ankles with the
frameworks. At first the fatigue and consequent stiffness
are great ; but with practice this wears off and the motions
become ea.sy. The speed attained as compared to that
in skating is not quick. The following are the best recorded
times in Montreal, Canada, with shoes of regulation size
and weight : — 100 yards, 12 sec; 220 yards, 26 sec; ^
mile, 1 min. 7| sec ; i mile 2 min. 33 sec. ; f mile, 4 min.
21 sec; 1 mile, 5 min. 42A sec; 2 miles, 11 min. 52|
sec. ; 3 miles, 20 min. 18 sec. ; 4 miles, 27 min. 10 sec. ;
4J miles, 30 min. 36 sec. ; 5 miles, 33 rain. 49i sec. The
best history of the pastime and its records is Montreal
Snow-shoe Club, sm. 8vo, Montreal, 1882.
SNUFF. See Tobacco.
SNYDERS, FR.iNZ (1579-1657), painter of animals
and still life, was born at Antwerp in 1579. In 1593 he
was studying under Peter Breughel, and afterwards he
received instruction from Henry van Balen, the first
master of Vandyke. He devoted himself to painting
flowers, fruit, and subjects of still life, but afterwards
turned to animal-painting, and executed with the greatest
skill and spirit hunting pieces and combats of wild
animals. His composition is rich and varied, his drawing
correct and vigorous, his touch bold and thoroughly ex-
l)ressive of the different textures of the furs and skins of
the animals represented. His excellence in this depart-
ment excited the admiration of Rubens, who frequently
employed him to paint animals, fruit, and still life in his
own pictures, and he assisted Jordaens in a similar manner.
In the lion and boar hunts which bear the name of
Snyders the hand of Rubens sometimes appears. He
was appointed principal painter to the archduke Albert,
governor of the Low Countries, for whom he executed
some of his finest works. One of these, a Stag-Hunt, was
presented to Philip III., who commissioned the artist to
paint several subjects of the chase, which are still pre-
served in Spain. Snyders died at Antwerp in 1657.
SOAP may in general terms be defined as a chemical
compound resulting from the union of fatty oils and fats
with alkaline bodies. In a scientific definition the com-
pounds of fatty acids with basic metallic oxides, lime,
magnesia,' lead oxide, &c., should also be included under
soap ; but, as these compounds are insoluble in water, while
the very essence of a soap in its industrial relations is
solubility, it is better to speak of the insoluble compounds
as "plasters," limiting the name "soap " to the compounds
of fatty acids vrith soda and potash. Soap both as a medi-
cinal and as a cleansing agent was known to Pliny (ff.jV.,
xxviii. 51), who speaks of two kinds — hard and soft — as
used by the Germans. He mentions it as originally a
(Jallic invention for giving a brigbt hue to the hair (" ruti-
landis capillis "). There is reason to believe that soap came
to the Romans from Germany, and that the detergents in
use in earlier times and mentioned as soap in the Old
Testament (Jer. ii. 22; Mai. iii. 2, &c.) refer to the ashes
of plants and other such purifying agents (comp. vol. x.
p. 697).
Till Chevreul's classical researches on fatty bodies (1811-
23) it was believed that soap consisted simply of a binary
•ompound of fat and alkali. Claude J. Geoifroy in 1741
pointed out that the fat or oil recovered from a soap
solution by neutralization with a mineral acid differs from
the original fatty substance by dissolving readily in alcohol,
which is not the case with ordinary fats and oils. The
significance of this observation was overlooked ; and
equally unheeded was a not less important discovery by
Scheele in 1783. In preparing lead plaster by boiling
olive oil with oxide of lead and a little water — a process
palpably analogous to that of the soap-boiler — he obtained
a sweet substance which, called by himself "Oelsiiss"
(" principium dulce oleorum"), is now known as "glycerin."
These discoveries of Geoffrey and Scheele formed the basis
of Chevreul's researches by which he laid bare the con-
stitution of oils and the true nature of soap. (See Olts,
vol. xvii. p. 740, and Glycerin, vol. x. p. 697.) In those
articles it is pointed out that all fatty oils and fats are
mixtures of glycerides, that is, of bodies related to the
alcohol glycerin C3H5(OH)3, and some fatty acid such as
palmitic acid (Ci5H3i02)H. Under suitable conditions
C,H5(OH)3-h3(C,6H3,0,)H give CjH.(C,5H3,Oj)3 + 3H,0
Glycerin. Palmitic Acid. Palmitin. Water.
The corresponding decomposition of palmitin into palmitic
acid and glycerin takes place when the glyceride is distilled
in superheated steam, and similarly it can be realized by
boiling in water mixed with a suitable proportion of caustic
potash or soda. But in this case the fatty acid unites
with the alkali into its potash or soda salt, forming a soap —
CaH^iCieHjiOjjj + 3NaOH = SXaCi^HjiO, + CjHjlOHjj
Palmitin. Soda Hydrate. Soap. Glycerin.
Of the natural fats or glycerides contained in oils the mo&t
important in addition to palmitin are stearin and olein,
and these it may be sufficient to regard as the principal
fatty bodies concerned in soap-making.
The general characters of a soap are ascertain greasiness
to the touch, ready solubility in water, with formation of
viscid solutions which on agitation yield a tenacious froth
or "lather," an indisposition to crystallize, readiness to
amalgamate with small proportions of hot water into
homogeneous slimes, which on cooling set irto jellies or
more or less consistent pastes. Soaps give an alkaline
reaction and have a decided acrid taste ; in a pure condi-
tion— a state never reached in practice — they have neither
smell nor colour. Almost without exception potash soaps
even if made from the solid fatty acids are " soft," and
soda soaps, although made with fluid olein, are "hard";
but there are considerable variations according to the pre-
vailing fatty acid in the compound. Almost all soda
soaps are precipitated from their watery solutions by the
addition of a sufficiency of common salt. Potash soap
with the same reagent undergoes double decomposition — a
proportion being changed into a soda soap with the forma-
tion of chloride of potassium. Soap when dissolved in a
large amount of water suffers hydrolysis, with formation of
a precipitate of alkaliferous fatty acid and a solution con-
taining free alkali. Its cleansing power is ordinarily ex-
plained by this reaction ; but it is difficult to see why a
solution which has just thrown off most of its fatty acids
should be disposed to take up even a glyceride. It is
more likely that the cleansing power of soap is due to the
inherent property of its solution to emulsionize fats.
Resin soaps are compounds of soda or potash with the
complex acids (chiefly abietic) of which coniferous resins
consist. Their formation is not due to a true process of
saponification ; but they occupy an important place in
compound soaps.
Manvfactuke. — The varieties of soaps made are numerous ; the
purposes to which they are applied are varied ; the material* em-
ployed embrace a considerable range of oils, fats, and other bodies ;
and the processes adopted undergo many modifications. As regards
processes'of manufacture soaps may be made by the direct combina-
tion of fatty acids, separated from oils, with alkaline solutions. In
the manufacture of stearin for candles, &c., the fatty matter is de-
composed, and the liquid olein, separated from th" solid fatty aoids,
is employed as an ingredient in soap-making. A soap so made is
SOAP
203
'not the result of saronification but of a simple couibiiiation, as is
tlic case also with resiii soaps'. All other soaps result from the coni-
VinatioM of fatty oils anJ fats with potash or soda solutions undur
oonditions which favour saponification. The soap solution which
'results fiom the oomhiuation forms soap-size and is a mixture of
so»p with water, the excess alkali, and the glycerin liberated from
tlw oil. In such condition ordinaiy soft soaps and certain kinds
of kard soap are brought to the market. lu curd soaps, however,
which form the basis of most household soap, the nncombined
alkali and the glycerin are separated by "salting out," and the
soap in this condition contains about 30 per cent, of water. Soap
may be framed and finished in this state, but almost invariably it
receives a further treatment called " refining " or " fitting," in which
by temelting with water, with or without the snbse<iuent addition
of other agents to harden the finished product, the soap may be
nude to contain from 60 to 70 per cent, of water ajid yet present
a firm hard texture.
Among the raw materials used by the soap-boiler the principal
Catty bodies are -tallow, lard, palm oil, palm-kernel oil, olive oil,
catton-seod oil, sesame oil, and cocoa-nut oil for h.ird soaps, and
fish oils, linseed oil, marrow fat, and the lower finalities of other
oib obtained by extraction, ic. , for potash or soft soaps. Almond
oil, spermaceti, cocoa-butter, ground-nut oil, and some others form
tlw basis of certain toilet and medicinal soaps. Resin and colophony
form essential ingredients in yellow soaps. The alkalis are used
almost exclusively in the condition of caustic l3'es, — solutions of
their respective hydrates in water. Caustic soda is now obtained
diiect from the soda manufacturer, and one operation, causticizing
the soda, is thus spared the soap-boiler. Pot.ash lyes are, however,
principally sharpened or causticized by the soap-boiler himself
from potash carbonate, the process for which is described under
I'OTASSICM Metals (vol. xix. p. 589).
The process of soap-boiling is canied out in large iron boUers
called "soap pans" or "coppers," some of which have capacity for a
charge of 30 tons or more. The pan proper is surmounted by a
great cone or hopper called a curb, to provide for the foaming up of
the boiling mass and to prevent loss from overflowing. Formerly
the pans were heated by open firing from below ; but now the
almost universal practice is to boil by steam injected from per-
forated pipes coiled within the pan, such injection favouring the
uniform heating of the mass and causing an agitation favourable to
the ultimate mixture and saponification of the materials. Direct
firing is used for the second boiling of the soap mixture ; but for
this superheated steam may with advantage be substituted, cither
applied by a steam-jacket round the pan or by a closed coil of pipe
within it. In large pans a mechanical stirring apparatus is pro-
vided, which in some cases, as in Morfit's steam "twirl," is formed
of the steam-heating tubes geared to rotate. Closed cylinders in
which the materials are boiled under pressure are also employed
for certain soaps.
Ourd Soap. — The oil mixture used differs in the several manu-
facturing countries, and the commercial name of the product is
correspondingly varied. In Germany tallow is the principal fat ;
in France olive oil occupies the chief place and the product is known
as Mai-seillcs or Castile soap ; and in England tallow and palm oil
are largely used. But in all countries a mLxture of several oils
enters into the composition of curd soaps and the posportions used
have no fixity. For each ton of soap to be majde from 12 to 16 cwts.
of oil is required. The soap pan is charged with the tallow or other
fat, and open steam is turnea on. So soon as the tallow is melted
a quantity of weak lye is added, and the agitation of the injected
steam causes the fat and lye to become intimately mixed and pro-
duces a milky emulsion. As the lye becomes absorbed, a condition
iudicated by the taste of the goods, additional quantities of lye of
increasing strength are added. After some time, the contents of
the pan begin to clear and become in the end very transparent.
Lye still continues to be poured in till a sample tastes distinctly
alkaline, — a test which indicates that the whole of the fatty acids
have been taken up by and combined with the alkali. Then with-
ojit further addition of alkali the boiling is continued for a few
minutes, when the soap is ready for salting out or "graining."
Kithcr common salt or strong brine in measured quantity is added
to the charge, and, the soap being insoluble in such salt solution,
a separation of constituents takes jdacc : the soap" collects on the
surface in nn open granular condition, and the spent lye sinks to
the bottom after it has been left for a short time to settle. Suppos-
ing now that a pure soap without resin is to bo made — a product
little seen in the market — the spent lyo is run off, steam is again
turucil on, pure water or very weak lye run in, and the contents
boiled up till the whole is tliin, close, nnd clear. The soap is from
this .ignin grained off or salted out, and the undeilyo so thrown
«lown carries with it coloured impurities which may have been iu
the ui.itcrials or which arise from contact with the boiler. Such
washing process may have to be repeated several times when ira-
(lure materials have been used. The spent lye of the washing being
drained off, the aoap now receives its strengthening boil. Steam
i.H turned on, ami, the m.iss being brought to a clear condition with
weak lye or water, strong lye is added and the boiling continued
with close steam till the lye att.ains such a state of concentration
that the soap is no longer soluble in it, and it will separate from
the caustic lye as from a common salt solution. The contents of
the pan are once more allowed to cool and settle, and the soap as
now formed constitutes a pure curd soap, carrying with it some pro-
portion of nncombined alkali, but containing the minimum amount
of water. It maybe skimmed off the underlye and placed direct
in the frames for solidification ; but that is a practice scarcely at
all followed, the addition of resin soap in the pan and the sub-
sequent "crutching in " of silicate of soda and adulterant mixings
being features common to the manufacture. The lye from the'
strengthening boil contains much alkali and is used in connexion]
with other boilings.
Molded Soap. — A pure curd soap always carries with it into th9
cooling frame a considerable amfiunt of coloured impurity, such.'
as iron sulphate, kc. AVlien it is permitted to cool rapidly the
colouring matter remains uniformly disseminated throughout the
mass ; but when means arc taken to cause the soap to cool and
solidify slowly a segregation takes place : the stearate and palmitata*
form a semi-crystalline solid, while the oleatf, solidifying more
slowly, comes by itself into translucent veins, iu which the greates
part of the coloured matter is drawn. In this way mottled or
marbled soap is formed, and such mottled appearance was foi'merly
highly valued as au indication of freedom from excess of water or
other adulteration, because in fitted soaps the impurities are either
washed out or fall to the bottom of the mass in cooling. Kow,
however, the most perfect mottle can be produced by 'working
colouring matter into the soap in the fran'i%, and mottling is vei7
far from being a certificate of excellence of quality.
Yellow Soap consists of a mixture of any hard fatty soap ■with 'a
variable proportion — up to 40 per cent, or more — of resin soap.
That substance by itself h.-is a tenacious gluey consistence, 'and its
intermixture in excess renders the resulting compound soft and
greasy. The ordinary method of adding resin consists in stirring
it in small fragments into the fatty soap in the stage of cle.ir-
boiling ; but a better result is obtained by separately preparing a
fatty soap and the resin soap, and combining the two in th^ pan
after the underlye has been salted out and removed from the fatty
soap. The compound then receives its strengthening boil, after
which it is fitted by boiling with added water or weak lye, continu-
ing the boil till by examination of a sample the proper consistency
has been reached. On settling a dark-coloured "nigger" or under-
lye separates out, which, because it contains some soap and alkali,
is saved for future use.
Marine Soap. — Cocoa-nut oil behaves as regards saponification
quite differently from all other oils and fats in relation to the
caustic alkalis. It does not form an emulsion with weak alkalis ;
these even under prolonged boiling have no influence on the fat.
With strong alkaline solutions, on the other hand, it saponifies with
the utmost readiness even without heat, and forms without the
separation of any underlye a soap of stiff firm consistence notwith-
standing the presence of a very large percentage of water. Such
soap is not insoluble in a strong solution of salt ; hence it forms a
lather and can be used for washing with sea-water, from which
peculiarity it derives its name "marine soap." Being thus soluble
in salt water it cannot of course be salted out like common soaps ;
but if a very concentrated salt solution is used precipitation is
effected, and a curd soap is separated so hard and refractory as to
be practically useless. Cocoa-nut soap is usually prepared by the
so-called cold method, in which the fat heated to 80° C. is treated
with a calculated quantity of caustic soda solution of sp. gr. 1'350,
the two constituents being stirred together till the sctftng and
hardening of the combination prevents further agitation. The
property that cocoa-nut soap possesses of absorbing large propor-
tions of water, and yet presenting the appearance of a hard solid
body, makes the material a favourite basis for highly .sophisticated
compounds, iu which water, sulphate of soda, and other alkaline
solutions, soluble silicates, fuller's earth, starch, &c., play an im-
portant and bulky part. Coco.vnut soap is little prepared by itself;.
but it forms a principal ingredient in compound soaps meant to
imitate curd and yellow .soaps. Two principal methods of prepar-
ing such compound soaps ai'e employed. In the first way tha
ordinary oil and the cocoa-nut oil are mixed and saponified together
with such a"measured quantity of alkaline solution as servos to
produce a hard soap without any salting out or separation of under-
lye. According to the second plan, the ordinary oil is treated as
for the preparation of a curd soap, and to this the cocoa-nut soap
separately saponified is added in the pan lUid both are boiled to-
gether till they form a homogeneous soap.
Silicale Sonps.—A further means of enabling a soap to contiiJ^
largo proportions of water and yet present a firm consistence \*
found in the use of silicate of soda. The silicate in 1 ho form of j
coacentrated solution is crutch.:d or stirred ii.to the soap inii
mechanical mixing maauino after the completion of the saiwnifica-
tion, and it appears to enter into a distinct chemical combination
with the sooo. While silicato soaps Ivar heavy watering, th«
204
S O A — S O C
■oluble silicate itself is a powerful detergent, and it possesses certain
•drantages when used with hard waters, so that, taking its cheap-
ness into account, the question whether its intioductiou into soap
is a fraud may be fairly discussed and much said in its defence.
Framincj. — The frames into which hnrd soaps are ladled for cooling
tad solidification consist of rectangular boxes made of iron plates
and bound and clamped together in a way that allows the sides to
be removed when required. The solidification i^ a very gradual pro-
cess, depending, of course, for its completion on the size of the block ;
but before cutting into bars it is essential that the whole should be '
Bct and hardened through and through, else the cut bars would not
hold together. Many ingenious devices for forming bars have been
produced ; but generally a strong frame is used, across which steel
wires are stretched at distances equal to the size of the bars to be
made, the blocks being first cut into slabs and then into bars.
Soft Soap.— As already said, soft soaps are made with potash lyes,
although in practice a small quantity of soda is also used to give
the soap some consistence. Tliere is no separation of underlyes in
potash soap, consequently the jiroduct contains the whole consti-
tuents of the oils used, as the operation of salting out is quite im-
practicable owing to the double decomposition which results from
the action of salt, producing thereby a hard principally soda soap
with formation of chloride of potassium. Owing to this circum-
stance it is impossible to "fit or in any way purify soft soap, and
all impurities which go into the pan of necessity enter into the
finished product. The making of soft soap, although thus a much
less complex process than hard soap making, is one that demands
much skill and experience for its success. From the conditions of
the. manufacture care must be taker to regulate the amount and
strength of tlie alkali in proportion to the oil used, and the degree
of concentration to which the boiling ought to be continued has to
be determined with close observation.
Toilet Soaps, &c. — Soaps used in personal ablution in no way
differ from the soaps previously alluded to, and may consist of any
of the varieties. It is of consequence that they should, as far as
iwssible, be free from excess of alkali and all other salts and foreign
ingredients which may have an injurious effect on the skin. The
manufacturer of toilet soap generally takes care to present his wares
in convenient form and of agreeable appearance and smell ; tlie
more weighty duty of having them free from uncombined alkali is
in many cases entirely overlooked. Transparent soaps are prepared
by dissolving ordinary soap in strong alcohol and distilling off the
gi'eater portion of the alcohol till the residue comes to tlie condi-
tion of a thick transparent jelly. This, when cast into forms and
allowed to harden and dry slowly, comes out as transparent soap.
A class of transparent soap may also be made by the cold process,
with the use of cocoa-nut oil, castor oil, and sugar. It generally
contains a large amount of uncombined alkali, and that, with its
unpleasant odour of cocoa-nut oil, makes it a most undesirable soaji
for personal use. Toilet soaps of common quality are perfumed by
simple melting and stirring into the mass some cheap odorous body
,that is not affected by alkalis under the influence of heat. The
finer soaps are perfumed by the cold method ; the soap is shaved
down to thiu slices, and the essential oil kneaded into and mixed
with it by special machinery, after which it is formed into cakes
by pressure in suitable moulds.
Glycerin soap ordinarily consists oi aoout equal parts of pure
hard soap and glycerin (the latter valuable for its emollient
properties). The soap is melted by heat, the glycerin is stirred in,
and the mixture strained and poured into forms, in which it hardens
but slowly into a transparent mass. With excess of glycerin a
fluid soap is formed, soap being soluble in that body, and such
fluid soap has only feeble lathering properties. Soap containing
small proportions of glycerin, on the other hand, forms a very
tenacious lather, and when soap bubbles of an enduring character
are desired glycerin is added to the solution. Soaps are also pre-
pared in which large proportions of fine sharp sand, or of powdered
pumice, are incorporated, and these substances, by their abrading
action, powerfully assist the detergent influence of the soap on
hands much begrimed by manufacturing operations.'
Medicated soaps contain certain substances which exercise a
specific influence on the skin. A few medicated soaps are prepared
for internal use, among which are croton soap and jalap soap,
both gentler cathartics than the uncompounded medicinal prin-
ciples. Medicated soaps for externitl use are only employed in
cases of skin ailments and as prophylactic washes. Among the
principal varieties are those which contain carbolic acid, petro-
leum, borax, camphor, chlorine, iodine, mercurial salts, sulphur,
and tannin. Arsenical soap is very mucli employed by taxider-
mists for the preservation of the skins of birds and mammals. It
consists of a mixture of white arsenic, hard soap, and slaked lime,
say 4 oz. of each, with 12 oz. of carbonate of potash, the whole
being made into a stiff paste with water.
The following table iudicates the average composition of several
commercial soaps : —
' "Soap powders " and " soap ertracts '
■Uulia. .
are simply preparations of
Water.
Fatty
Acid.
Soda.
1
IS
c
X.
3
Loa*.
Com-
biticd.
Free.
T.il!nw so.ip
Marseilles so.lp,
mottled
Palm-oil so.ip . .
Yellow s<:>.ip
Coeo.i-uutoilsoap
Silieate snap ....
Soft soap
2S-8
1015
35 -4
22-23
5S-T4
60-4
43-3
5S0
7C0
49-9
C2-9J2
3J-S2
5-5
41-9
6-3
8-65
7 0
8-03
4-20
10-7
1-6
i-'so
l6'2 •
33-'4
4-'6
2-3 1 2-5
4-95
1-1 1 SlO
G-79
2-2G 0-42
.. 1
'■ 1
Soap Aiialysis. — Here it will be suHicicnt to mention a few tjsts
which can be executed without special chemical knowledge. To de-
termine the w;ater in a soap — a most important question — a few thin
slices are weighed and dried in a stove at 105°C. so long as loss of
weight continues. The loss of weight is the measure of uncombined
water in the sample. Added salts, such as alkaline silicates, sul-
phates, ic. and insoluble earthy admixtures are detected by boiling
a sample with alcohol, in which only the soap proper dissolves.
The residue is collected in a filter, washed with hot alcohol, and
weighed. An excessive proportion of surplus alkali can be detected
by dissolving the soap in hot water and adding a sufficiency of
saturated solution of common salt to salt it out. The alkali remains
in solution and can be determined by the amount of a standard acid
solution it neutralizes.
Commerce. — Marseilles has long been recognized as the most im-
portant centre of the soap trade, a position that city originally
achieved through its ready command of the supplies of clive oil.
The city is still very favourably situated for obtaining supplies
of oils both locul and foreign, including sesame, giound nut,
castor oil, Stc. In England the soap trade did not exist till the
16th century. In the reign of Charles I. a monoply of soap-making
was farmed to a cor)ioration of soap-boilers in Loudon, — a proceed-
ing which led to serious complications. From 1712 to 1.S53 as
excise duty ranging from Id. to 3d. was levied on soap TnsOe \a
the Unitecl Kingdom, and that heavy impost (equal when 3J. to
more than 100 per cent.) greatly impeded the development of the
iudustiy. In 1793, when the excise duty was 2|d. on hard and
l|d. on soft soap, tlie revenue yielded was a little over £400,000 ;
in 1815 it was almost £750,000 ; in 1835, when the duty was levied
at IJd. and Id. respectively (and when a drawb.ick was allowed for
so.ap us'.d in manufactures), the revenue was almost £1,000,000 ;
and in 1852, the last year in' which the duty was levied, it
amounted to £1,126,046, with a drawback on exportation aiuount-
iug to £271,000. What the manufacture has risen to since that
time there is no accurate way of estimating. (W. D. — J. PA.)
SOAP BARK. A vegetable principle known as "sap-
onin," and chemically analogous to the arabih of soluble
gums and to mucHage, forms with water a lather, and is
on that account available as a substitute for soap. Saponin
is obtainable from soap nuts, the fruit of a tree, Saponaria
officinalis and allied species ; but its most important source
is the Quillai bark of Chili yielded by a large tree, Qvill<ya
saponaria. The inner bark of the tree, reduced to powder,
is employed in Chili as a substitute for soap.
SOBIESKI, John, king of Poland. See John III., vol.
xiii. p. 714, and Pol.\nd, vol. xix. p. 295.
SOCAGE is a form of tenure. Bracton, Britton, and
other old writers derived the word from the French soe,
"a ploughshare." Modern etymologists, however, prefer to
derive it from the Old English soc, " a franchise " or " privi-
lege," or the land over which such f rarichise or privilege was
exercised. Socage differs from knight service in being
agricultural rather than military in its nature, and from
frankalmoign in being based on temporal rather than
spiritual services. It is either free or villein. Free socage
in capite was abolished by 12 Car. 11. c. 24. Tbjt form
of free socage called common socage is the ordinary modern
freehold tenure. Varieties of it are burgage, gavelkind,
and petit serjeanty. Scutage, while it existed, was another '
variety. The only representative of villein socage is the
comparatively rare tenure of ancient demesne confined to
manors, described in Domesday Book as ierrse regis. Socage
tenure is said to have formerly existed in Scotland. The
descent of socage lands in Scotland seems to have beea to
all the sons equally, as was originally the case in England.'
(See Burgage, Gavelkind, Real Estate, Scutage.)
^ Including resin acids.
205-
SOCIALISM
Origin of f | iHE word "socialism" is of comparatively recent origin,
oame. j_ having been coined in England in 183S. In that
year a society which received the grandiloquent name
of the " Association of all Classes of all Nations " was
founded under the auspices of Robert Owen ; and the
words "socialist "and "socialism" were first used during the
discussions which arose in connexion with it. As Owen and
his school had no esteem for the political reform of the
time, and laid all emphasis on the necessity of social
improvement and reconstruction, it is obvious how the name
came to be recognized as suitable and distinctive. The
term was borrowed from England by a distinguished
French writer, Reybaud, in his well-known work the
Reformateurs modernes (1839), in which he discussed the
theories of Saint- Simon, Fourier, and Owen. Through
Reybaud it soon gained wide currency on the Continent,
and is now the accepted world-historic name for one of the
most remarkable movements of the 19th century.
The name was thus first applied in England to Owen's
theory of social reconstruction, and in J'rance to those
also of Saint-Simon and Fourier. The best usage has
always connected it with the views of these men and the
cognate opinions which have since appeared. The word,
however, is used with a great variety of meaning not only
in popular speech and Ly politicians but even by economists
and learned critics of socialism. The general tendency Ls
to regard as socialistic any interference with property
undertakeu by society on behalf of the poor, the limitation
of the principle of laissez-faire in favour of the sufifering
classes, radical social reform which disturbs the present
system of private property as regulated by free competition.
It is probable enough that the word will be permanently
Used to express the tendency indicated in these phrases,
as a general name for the strong reaction that has now set
in against the overstrained individualism and one-sided
freedom which date from the latter half of the 18th century.
The application is neither precise nor accurate ; but it is
use and wont that determine the meaning of words, and
this seems to be the tendency of use and wont.
Even economic writers differ greatly in the meaning
they attach to the word. The great German economist
Roscher defines it as including "those tendencies which
demand a greater regard for the common weal than consists
with human nature." Adolf Held says that " we may define
as ■socialistic every tendency which demands the subordina-
tion of the individual will to the community." Janet
more precisely defines it as follows: — "We call socialism
every doctrine which teaches that the state has a right to
correct the inequality of wealth which exists among men
and to legally establish the balance by taking from those
who ha,ve too much in order to give to those who have not
enough, and that in a permanent manner, and not in such
and such a particular case, — a famine, for instance, a public
calamity, &c." Laveleyo explains it thus : " In the first
place every socialistic doctrine aims at introducing greater
equality in social conditions, and in the second place at
realizing those reforms by the law or the state." Von
Scheel simply defines it as the "economic philosophy of the
suffering classes." Of all the.se definitions it can only bo
said that they more or less faithfully reflect current opinion
as to the natura of aocialism. They are either too vague
' The aim of tho preseut article ia essentially to give a history and cx-
iposition of socialism in its Ic.idin^ phases and principles. Tho point
of view is objective, — to expl.-iiu what socialism has been and is.
A controversial or critical article on the many vexed questions Bug-
geated by the subject would have been inconsistent with the plan of
llius work.
or they are misleading, and they quite fai! to bring oat the
clear and strongly marked characteristics that distingui-sh
the phenomena to which the name of socialism is properly
applied. To say that socialism exacts a greater regard for
the common veal than is compatible with human nature
is to pass sentence on the movement, not to define it. In
all ages of the world, and under all forms and tendencies
of government and of social evolution, the will of the
individual has been subordinated to the will of society,
often unduly so. It is also most misleading to speak as
if socialism must proceed from the state as we know ii.
The early socialism proceeded from private effort and
experiment. A great deal of the most notorious socialism
of the present day aims not only at subverting the existing
state in every form but all the existing political and social
institutions. The most powerful and most philosophic,
that of Karl Mar.x, aimed at superseding the existing
governments by a vast international combination of the
workers of all nations, without distinction of creed, colour,
or nationality.
Still more objectionable, however, is the tendency not
unfrequently shown to identify socialism with a violent
and lawless revolutionary spirit. As sometimes used, .
"socialism" means nothing more nor less than the most'
modern form of the revolutionary spirit with a suggestion
of anarchy and dynamite. This is to confound the essence
of the movement with an accidental feature more or less
common to all great innovations. Every new thing of any
moment, whether good or evil, has its revolutionary stage
in which it disturbs and upsets the accepted beliefs and
institutions. The Protestant Reformation was for more
than a century and a half the occasion of national and
international trouble and bloodshed. The suppression of
American slavery could not be effected without a tremen-
dous civil war. There was a time when the opinions com-
prehended under the name of " liberalism " had to fight to
the death for toleration; and representative government
was at one time a revolutionary innovation. The fact
that a movement is revolutionary generally implies only
that it is new, that it is disposed to exert itself by strong
methods, and is calculated to make great changes. It ia
an unhappy feature of most great changes that they have ,
been attended with the exercise of force, but that is be- I
cause the powers in possession have generally attempted I
to suppress them by the exercise of force.
In point of fact socialism is one of the most elastic and
protean phenomena of history, varying according to the
time and circumstances in which it appears and with the
character and opinions and institutions of the people who
adopt it. Such a movement cannot be conderaned or
approved en bloc. Most of the current formuliE to which
it has been referred for praise or censure are totally errone-
ous and misleading. Yet in the midst of the various
theories that go by the name of "socialism " there is a kernel
of principle that is common to them all. That principle
is of an economic nature, and is most clear and precise.
Tho central aim of socialism is to terminate the divorce of l
tho workers from the natural sources of subsistence and I
of culture. The socialist theory is based on the historical
assertion that tho course of social evolution for centuries
has gradually been to exclude tho producing classes from
the possession of land and capital and to establish a new
subjection, the subjection of workers, who have nothing
to depend on but precarious wage-labour. Tho socialists
maintain that tho present system (in which land and capital
are tho property of private individuals freely struggling
for increase of wealth) loads inevitably to social and
206
SOCIALISM
economic anarchy, to the degradation of the working man
and his family, to the growth of vice and idleness among
the wealthy classes and their dependants, to bad and in-
artistic workmanship, and to adulteration in all its forms ;
and that it is tending more and more to separate society
into two classes, — wealthy millionaires confronted with
an enormous mass of proletarians, — the issue out of which
must either be socialism or social ruin. To avoid all these
levils and to secure a more equitable distribution of the
means and appliances of happiness, the socialists propose
that land and capital, which are the requisites of labour
and the sources of all wealth and culture, should become
the property of society, and be managed by it for the
general good. In thus maintaining that society should
assume the management of industry and secure an equit-
able distribution of its fruits socialists are agreed, but in
the most important points of detail they differ very greatly.
They differ as to the form society will take in carrying
out the socialist programme, as to the relation of local
bodies to the central government, and whether there is to
[be any central government, or any government at all in
the ordinary sense of the word, as to the influence of the
national idea in the society of the future, &c. They
differ also as to what should be regarded as an "equitable"
system of distribution. The school of Saint-Simon advo-
cated a social hierarchy in which every man should be
placed according to his capacity and rewarded according to
his works. In the communities of Fourier tlie minimum
of subsistence was to be guaranteed to each out of the
common gain, the remainder to be divided between labour,
capital, and talent, — five-twelfths going to the first, four-
twelfths to the second, and three -twelfths to the third.
At the revolution of 1848 Louis Blanc proposed that remu-
neration should be equal tor all members of his social work-
ishops. In the programme drawn up by the united social
'democrats of Germany (Gotha, 1875) it is provided that
all shall enjoy the results of labour "according to their
reasonable wants," all of course being bound to work.
It is needless to say also that the theories of socialism
have been held in connexion with the most varying
opinions in philosophy and religion. A great deal of
> 'the historic socialism has been regarded as a necessary
I implicate of idealism. Most of the prevailing socialism
k)i the day is based on the frankest and most outspoken
revolutionary materialism. On the other hand, many
isocftilists hold that their system is a necessary outcome
'of Christianity, that socialisln and Christianity are essen-
tial the one to the other ; and it should be said that the
ethics of socialism are closely akin to the ethics of Chria-
tianity, if not identical. with them.
Still it should be insisted that the basis of socialism
is economic, involving a fundamental change in the
relation of labour to land and capital, — a change which
vnll largely affect production, but will entirely revolu-
, lionize the existing system of distribution. But, while
lits basis is economic, socialism implies and carries with it
a change in the political, ethical, technical, and artistic
arrangements and institutions of society which would con-
stitute a revolution greater probably than has ever taken
place in human history, greater than the transition from
the ancient to the mediseval world, or from the latter
to the existing order of society. In the first place, such
a change generally assumes as its political complement
the most thoroughly democratic organization of society.
The early" socialism of Owen and Saint-Simon was
marked by not a little of the autocratic spirit ; but
tlie tendency of the present socialism is more and more
to ally itself with the most advanced democracy. So-
cialism, in fact, claims to be the economic complement
of democracy, maintaining that without a fundamental
economic change political privilege has neither meaning
nor value. In the second place, socialism naturally goes
with an unselfish or altruistic system of ethics. The most
characteristic feature of the old societies was the exploita-
tion of the weak by the strong under the systems- of
slavery, serfdom, and wage-labour. Under the socialistic
regime it is the privilege and duty of the strong and
talented to use their superior force and richer endowments
in the service of their fellow-men without distinction of
class ,or nation or creed. In the third place, socialists
maintain that under their system and no other can the
highest excellence and beauty be realized in industrial
production and in art, whereas under the present system
beauty and thoroughness are alike sacrificed to cheapness,
which is a necessity of successful competition. Lasdy,
the socialists refuse to admit that individual happiness or
freedom or character would be sacrificed under the sociaJ
arrangements they propose. They believe that under the
present system a free and harmonious development of indi-
vidual capacity and happiness is possible only for the privi-
leged minority, and that socialism alone can open up a
fair opportunity for all. They believe, in short, that there
is no opposition whatever between socialism and indi-
viduality rightly understood, that these two are comple-
ments the one of the other, that in socialism alone may
every individual have hope of free development and a full
realization of himself.
Having seen, then, how wide a social revolution is Essenej
implied in the socialistic scheme of reconstruction, let us fj,^'*''^''
repeat (1) that the essence of the theory consists in this
— associated production with a collective capital with
the view to an equitable distribution. In the words of
Schaffle, " the Alpha and Omega of socialism is the trans-
formation of private competing capitals into a united
collective capital " {Quintessem des Socialismus). A. Wag-
ner's more elaborate definition of it (in his Grundlegwng)
is entirely in agreement with that of SchaflBe. This is
the principle on which all the schools of socialism, how-
ever opposed othervrise, are at one. Such a system, whj3e
insisting on collective capital (including land), is quite
consistent with private property in other forms, and w^
perfect freedom in the use of one's own share in &e
equitable distribution of tLe produce of the associated
labour. A thoroughgoing socialism demands that tiMs
principle should be applied to the capital and productitm
of the whole world ; only then can it attain to supreme
and perfect realization. But a sober-minded socialism
will admit that the various intermediate stages in whidh
the principle finds a partial application are so far a true
and real development of the socialistic idea. (2) Socialian
is both a theory of social evolution and a working force ra
the history of the 19th century. Some of the most eminent
socialists, such as Rodbertus, regard their theory as a pr6-
phecy concerning the social development of the future rather
than as a subject of agitation. In their view socialism is
the next stage in the evolution of society, destined after
many generations to supersede capitalism, as capitalian
displaced feudalism and feudalism succeeded to slavery.
Even the majority of the most active socialists consider the
question as still in the stage of agitation and propaganda,
their present task being that of enlightening the masses
until the consummation of the present social development;
and the declared bankruptcy of the present social order,
shall have delivered the world into their hands. Socialism,
therefore, is for the most part a theory affecting the
future, more or less remote, and has only to a limited
degree gained a real and practical footing in the life of onr
time. Yet it should not be forgotten that its theories
have most powerfully affected all the ablest recent
economic writers of Germany, and have even conaidembly
SOCIALISM
207
modified German legislation. Its influence is rapidly
growing among the lower and also among ths most ad-
vanced classes in almost every country dominated by
European culture, following as a destroying negation the
development of capitalism. (3; In its doctrinal aspects
socialism is most interesting as a criticism of the present
economic order, of what socialists call the capitalistic system,
with which tho existing land system is connected. Under
the present economic order land and capital (the material
and instruments without which industry is impossible)
are the property of a class, employing a class of wage-
labourers handicapped by their exclusion from land and
capital. Competition is the general rule by which the
share of the members of those classes in the fruits of pro-
duction is determined. Against this system critical social-
ism is a reasoned protest ; and it is at issue also with the
prevailing political economy, in so far as it assumes or
maintains the permanence or righteousness of this eco-
nomic order. Of the economic optimism implied in the
historic doctrine of laissez-faire socialism is an uncom-
promising rejection. (4) Socialism is usually regarded as
a phase of the struggle for the emancipation of labour,
for the complete participation of the working classes in
the material, intellectual, and spiritual inheritance of the
human race. This is certainly the most substantial and
most prominent part of the socialist programme, the
^working classes being the most numerous and the worst
sufferers from the present regime. This view, however,
is rather one-sided, for socialism claims not less to be in
the interest of the small capitalist gradually crushed by
the competition of the larger, and in the interest also of the
large capitalist, whose position is endangered by the huge
unmanageableness of his success, and by the world-wide
economic anarchy from which even the greatest are not
secure. Still it is the deliverance of the worldng class
that stands in the front of every socialistic theory ; and,
though the initiative in socialist speculation and action
has usually come from the middle and upper classes, yet
it is to the working men that they generally appeal.
WhUe recognizing the great confusion in the use of the
• word "socialism," we have treated it as properly a pheno-
menon of the 19th century, beginning in France with
Saint-Simon and Fourier, in England with Robert Owen,
and most powerfully represented at the present day by the
school of Karl Marx. As we have seen, however, there
are definitions of the word which would give it a wider
range of meaning and a more ancient beginning, com-
pared with which capitalism is but of yesterday, — which
iarly would, in fact, make it as old as human society itself. In
wTr>»- the early stages of human development, when the tribe or
the village community was the social unit, the subordina-
tion of the individual to the society in which he dwelt was
the rule, and common property was the prevalent form.
In the development of the idea of property, especially as re-
gards land, three successive historical stages are broadly re-
cognized,— common property and common enjoyment of it,
common property and private enjoyment, private property
and private enjoyment. The last form did not attain to full
expression till the end of the 1 8th century, when thoprinciple
of individual freedom, which was really a reaction against
privileged restriction, was proclaimed as a positive axiom
of government and of economics. The free individual
struggle for wealth and for the social advantages dependent
on wealth is a comparatively recent thing. In all periods
of history the state reserved to itself the right to interpose
in the arrangements of property, — sometimes in favour of
the poor, as in the case of the English poor law, which
may thus be regarded as a socialistic measure. Moreover,
all through history revolts in favour of a rearrangement ol
property have been very frequent. And ia the societies
of the Catholic Church we have a jiermancnt example of
common property and a common enjoyment of it.
How are we to distinguish the socialism of the 19tb
century from these old-world phenomena, and especially
from the communism ^ which has played so great a part in
history ? To this query socialists, especially of the school
of JIarx, have a clear and precise answer. Socialism is a
stage in the evolution of society which could not arrive
till the conditions necessary to it had been established.
The first and most essential of these was the development
of the great industrialism which after a long period of pre-
paration and gradual growth began to reach its culnrinating
point with the inventions and technical improvements, with
the application of steam and the rise of the factory system, in
England towards the end of the 1 8th century. Under this
system industry was organized into a vast social operation,
and was thus already socialized ; but it was a system that
was exploited by the individual owner of the capital at
his own pleasure and for his own behoof. Under the
pressure of the competition of the large industry, the small
capitalist is gradually crushed out, and the working pro-
ducers become wage -labourers organized and drilled in
immense factories and workshops. The development of
this system still continues and is enveloping the whole
world. Such is the industrial revolution. Parallel with
this a revolution in the world of ideas equally great and
equally necessary to the rise of socialism has taken place.
This change of thought which made its world-historic
announcement in the French Revolution made reason the
supreme judge and had freedom for its great practical
watchword. It was represented in the economic sphere
by the school of Adam Smith. Socialism was an outcome
of it too, and first of all in Saint-Simon and his school Saint-
professed to give the positive and constructive corrective to Simoo,
a negative movement which did not see that it was merely "™'
negative and therefore temporary. In other words, Saint
Simon may be said to aim at nothing less than the com-
pletion of the work of Voltaire, Rousseau, and Adam Smith.
Thus socialism professes to bo the legitimate child of two
great revolutions, — of the industrial revolution which began
to establish itself in England towards the end of the 18th
century, and of the parallel revolution in thought which
about the same time found most prominent expression in
France. Robert Owen worked chiefly under the influence
of the former ; Saint-Simon and Fourier grew up under
the latter. The conspiracy of Babeuf is properly to be
regarded as a crude revolutionary communism not essen-
tially different from the rude efibrts in communism made in
earlier periods of history. With Saint-Simon and Owen
historic socialism really begins, and is no longer an isolated
fact, but has had a continuous and widening development,
the succession of socialistic teaching and propaganda being
taken up by one country aft,er another throughout tho
civilized world.
We have seen, then, that tho rise of socialism as a new
and reasoned theory of society was relative to the industrial
revolution and to the ideas proclaimed in tho French
Revolution, prominent among which, besides tho much
emphasized idea of freedom and tho less easily realized
ideals of equality and fraternity, was tho conception of the
worth and dignity of labour. Though Owen was most
largely influenced by the former and Saint-Simon and
Fourier by the latter, it is certain that all three were
' As used in current speech, and olso in economics, no very
defirito lino of distinction between communism and iocialism can bo
drawn. Generally speaking communism is a term for a sjitcm of
common property, and tbia nhould bo accepted m tlio iT.vionably
correct usage of tho word ; but even by socialisti it is firquently u«eJ
OS practically synonymous with socialism. Collectivism is a oonl
which has rcccnlly come into vogue to express tho economic b»»i» ol
socialism as above explained.
208
SOCIALISM
greatly affecled by both the new movements. The motive
power in Owen's career was the philanthropy and humani-
tarianism of the 18th century. He had grown up in the
midst of the industrial revolution ; he was one of the most
successful pioneers in the improvement of the cotton manu-
facture. No one. could be more deeply conscious of the
enormous abuses of the factory system ; and no one better
knew the wonderful services it could render if technical
improvement were only made subordinate to human well-
being. In the career of Owen we see the new spirit of
the 18th century seeking to bring the mechanism of the
new industrial system under the direction of a nobler prin-
ciple, in which the good of all should be the great and
sole aim. The position of Saint-Simon was considerably
different, yet akin. As Owen had before his eyes the evils
of a young but gigantic industrialism, Saint-Simon con-
templated the hoary abuses of an idle and privileged
feudalism, fearfully shaken no doubt by the Revolution,
but still strong in Europe, and in France as elsewhere
powerfully revived during the period after Waterloo. Saint-
Simon saw that a new world, an industrial world resting
on labour, had arisen, while the old feudal and theological
world— /ainea«« courtiers and a clergy steeped in ignorance
— still ruled. All this array of parasites, who had no longer
any useful function to perform for society, Saint-Simon
sought to replace by the industrial chiefs and scientific
leaders as the real working heads of the French people.
Only he expected that these exceptionally gifted men,
instead of exploiting the labour of others, should control
an industrial France for the general good. Neither Owen
nor Saint-Simon was revolutionary in the ordinary sense.
Owen was most anxious that the English and other Govern-
ments should adopt his projects of socialistic reform.
Leading statesmen and royal personages befriended him.
He had no faith in the political reforms of 1832; he
reckoned the political side of chartism as of no account,
and he preferred socialistic experiment under autocratic
guidance until the workmen should be trained to' rule
themselves. The same autocratic tendency was very pro-
nounced in Saint-Simon and his school. His first appeal
was to Louis XVIII. He wished to supersede the feudal
aristocracy by a working aristocracy of merit. His school
claim to have been the first to warn the Governments of
Europe of the rise of revolutionary socialism. (For further
information as to Saint-Simon and his school, see Saint-
Simon.) The good and bad aspects of the Saint-Simon
socialism are too obvious to require elucidation in this
article. The antagonism between the old economic order
and the new had only begun to declare itself. The extent
and violence of the disease were not yet apparent ; both
diagnosis and remedy were superficial and premature.
Such deep-seated organic disorder was not to be conjured
away by the waving of a magic wand. The movement
was all too Utopian and extravagant in much of its activity.
The most prominent portion of the school attacked social
order in its essential point — the family morality — adopting
the worst features of a fantastic, arrogant, and prurient
sacerdotalism, and parading them in the face of Europe.
Thus it happened that a school which attracted so many
of the most brilliant and promising young men of France,
which was so striking and original in its criticism of the
existing condition of things, which was so strong in the
spirit of initiative, and was in many ways so noble, un-
selfish, and aspiring, sank amidst the laughter and indigna-
idon of a scandalized society.
The beginning of socialism may be dated from 1817, the
year when Owen laid his scheme for a socialistic com-
munity before the committee of the House of Commons
on the poor law, the year also that the speculations of
Saint-Simon definitely took a socialistic direction. The
outlines of the history of socialism are very simple.
Till 1850 there was a double movement in France and
England.- In the former country after Saint-Simon and
Fourier the movement was represented chiefly by Proudhon
and Louis Blanc. In England after Owen the movement
was taken up by the body of Christian socialists associated
with Maurice and Kingsley. The more recent socialism is
due chiefly to German and also Russian thinkers, but is
generally international both in sympathy and activity.
Considered as a purely literary and speculative product,
the socialism of Fourier was prior to those of both Owen and
Saint-Simon. .His great work, Theorie des Quatre Mouve-
ments, was published as early as 1808. The socialism of
Fourier, however, scarcely attracted any attention and
exercised no influence till those of Owen and Saint-Simon
were on the decline. His system is one in which the
wildest fantasy is mixed with ingenious theory and the
most searching criticism of the present competitive system ;
even ■ yet it is almost unrivaUed in pungency and effective-
ness. The pantheistic conception of the world which
underlay the "Saint-Simonian theory of the " rehabilitation
of the flesh " formed the basis also of the social ethics and
arrangements of Fourier. According to Fourier, evil is the
artificial product and attendant of civilization, the resultjof
perverted human institutions, which have run counter to the
ordinances of the Creator in pronouncing passions and affec-
tions to be bad which are simply natural. Between the
creature and the Creator there have been 5000 years of
misunderstanding. There is but one way of removing this
misunderstanding, — to give a free and healthy and comr
plete development to our passions. This Fourier sought
to accomplish in his phalanges, which, united in a system
of free federation, would, as he believed, soon cover the.
world (see Foctrier).
The year 1830 was an important turning-point in the
history of socialism. During the fermentation of that
time the activity of the Saint-Simon school came to a crisis,
and the ideas of Fourier had an opportunity of taking;
practical effect. Some of the Saint-Simonians joined him.
The movement in France was short-lived ; and the numerous
experiments tried in America were not more successful
One of the most notable societies suggested by Fourier's
influence, but entirely free from his immoral tendencies,
was Brook Farm, established by George Ripley and other
cultured Americans in 1840. A most praiseworthy and
successful institution also suggested by the teaching of
Fourier is the Familutere at Guise (Aisne) conducted by M.
Godin. But by far the greatest result of the revolution of
1830 was the definitive establishment of the contrast be^
tween the bourgeoisie and the proletariat. Hitherto these
'two classes had fought side by side against feudalism and
the reaction. The bourgeoisie were now rulers, and the
proletariat became the revolutionary party, the first outbreak
under the new conditions taking place at Lyons in 1831,
when the starving workmen rose to arms with the device,
" Live working or die fighting." During the latter half
of the reign of the bourgeois king Louis Philippe Paris be-
came more than ever the centre of socialistic fermentation.
In 1839 Louis Blanc published his Organisation du Travail,
and Cabet his Voyage en Icarie. In 1840 Proudhon pub-
lished his book on property. At this period Paris counted
among her visitors Lassalle, the founder of the social de-
mocracy of Germany ; Karl Marx, the chief of scientific
int 'mational socialism ; and Bakunin, the apostle of
anarchism.
The socialism of Saint-Simon and Fourier was largely
speculative, imaginative, and Utopian, and had only a very
remote connexion with the practical life of their time.
With Louis Blanc (1811-1882) socialism came into real I
contact with the public history of France. The most cob-!
SOCIALISM
209
epicuons feature of Louis Blanc's teaching was that he
demanded the democratic organization of the state aa pre-
paratory to social reorganization. His system, therefore,
had a positive and practical basis, in so far as it allied
itself to a dominant tendency in the existing state. Louis
Blanc was an eminent journalist, born at Madrid, where
his father had a high post on the finances of King Joseph.
His celebrated work on- socialism, Organisation du Travail,
exerted a very large influence on the thought of Franco.
The formula of progress, says Louis Blanc, is double in
its unity, — moral and material amelioration pf the lot of
ail by the free co-operation of all and their fraternal associa-
tion. He saw, however, that the gi'cat end of social re-
form could not be attained without political reform. It
was not enough to discover the true methods for inaugurat-
ing the principle of association and the organization of
labour according to the rules of reason, justice, and human-
ity. It was necessary to have political power on the side
of social reform, political power resting on the chambers,
on the tribunals, and on the array; not to take it as an in-
strument was to meet it as an obstacle. For these reasons
he wished to see the state constituted on a thoroughly
democratic basis as the first condition of success. He
demanded that the state thus reformed should establish
associations, which he called social workshops, for co-opera-
tive production. The money should be provided by the
>tate, which also should draw up the rules. The state
should appoint the functionaries for the first year. After
that the workmen should elect their own managers.
" Though the false and anti-social education given to the
present generation makes it difficult to find any other
motive of emulation and encouragement than a higher
salary, the wages will be equal, as the ideas and
character of men will be changed by an absolutely new
education." Louis Blanc hoped that private firms would
not be able to exist under the competition of such associa-
tions, and that the latter would in time absorb all the
production of the country. Notwithstanding the influence
exerted by Louis Blanc and the working men's party in
the provisional Government of 1848, it cannot be said that
his plans obtained a fair hearing or a fair trial. His
schemes were certainly not carried out in the national
workshops of that year. These were really a travesty of
Louis Blanc's proposals, instituted expressly to discredit
them. They were simply means of finding work for a
motley proletariat thrown out of employment during the
period of revolutionary disturbance ; and these men were
put to unproductive work, whereas of course Louis Blanc
contemplated nothing but productive work, and the men
he proposed to invite to join his a.ssooiations were to give
guarantees of character. The months following the re-
volution of February were, moreover, a period of industrial
stagnation and insecurity, whcri*any new project of trade,
either on the old or new lines, had very little prospect of
success. ■ This remark applies largely also to the private
associations for co-operative production subsidized by the
republican Government. These were more closely akin to
the plans of Louis Blanc ; but to them also the times were
unfavourable, and the help given them was both scanty
and injudicious. As one of the leaders during this diffi-
cult crisis Louis Blanc had neither personal force nor
enduring political influence sufficient to secure any con-
siderable success for his cause. He was an amiable and
genial enthusiast, but without weight enough to bo a con-
troller of men on a wide scale. -The labour conferences at
the Luxembourg, over which he presided, ended also as
his opponents desired, without any tangible result. The
proletariat at Paris, incensed at the closing of the national
workshops, rose in armed insurrection, which was over-
thrown by Cavaignac in the sanguinary days of June (sec
22—10
Cavaignac). Louis Blanc was in no way implicated in
the revolt, but he fouild it necessary to go into exile in
England. With the bloodshed of the days of June French
socialism ceased for a time to be a considerable force.
Socialism in the true acceptation of the word was indeed
only partially responsible for the insurrection. It was a
rising of a proletariat not particularly versed in theories
of social reconstruction, but deeply incensed at the re-
actionary measures of their rulers. Inasmuch, however,
as it destroyed the most enterprising leaders of the work-
men and quelled the spirit of the remainder, it thoroughly
repressed the tendency to innovation amongst them for a
long time to come, while the false piosperity of the second
empire removed their most crying grievances. Under
Napoleon III. there was consequently comparative quiet-
ness in France. Even the International had very little
influence on French soil, though French working men had
an important share in starting it.
Compared with the parallel movement in France the
early socialism of England had an uneventful history (see
Owen). In order to appreciate the significance of Owen'i
work it is necessary to recall some of the more important
features of the social condition of the country in his time.
The English worker had no fixed interest in the soil. He
had no voice either in local or national government. He
had little education or none at all. His dwelling was
wretched in the extreme. The right even of combination
was denied him till 1824. The wages of the agricultural
labourer were miserably low. The workman's share in the
benefits of the industrial revolution was doubtful. Great
numbers of his class were reduced to utter poverty and
ruin by the great changes consequent on the introduction
of improved machinery; the tendency to readjustment
was slow and continually disturbed by fresh change. The
hours of work were mercilessly long. He had to compete
against the labour of women, and of children brought fre-
quently at the age of five or six from the workhouses.
These children had to work the same long hours as the
adults, and they were sometimes strapped by the over-
seers till the blood came. Destitute as they so often were
of parental protection and oversight, with both sexes
huddled together under immoral and insanitary conditions,
it was only natural that they should fall into the worst
habits, and that their offspring should to such a lament-
able degree bo vicious, improvident, and physically de-
generate. In a country where the labourers had neither
education nor political or social rights, and where the
peasantry were practically landless serfs, the old English
poor-law was only a doubtful part of an evil system. All
these permanent causes of mischief were aggravated by
special causes connected w-ith the cessation of the Napole-
onic wars, which are well known. It was in such circum-
stances, when' English pauperism had become a grave
national question, that Owen first brought forward his
scheme of socialism (1817). In his communities, which
were intended to bo self-dependent units, Owen sought to
provide the best education and the constant exercise of
unselfish intelligence, to unite the advantages of towji and
country, and to correct the monotonous activity of the
factory with the greatest variety of occupation, while
utilizing all the latest improvements in industrial technique.
The causes of Owen's failure in establishing his communi-
ties are obvious enough. Apart from the difficulties in-
herent in socialism, ho injured the social cause bj' going out
of his way to attack the historic religions and the accepted
views on marriage, by his quixotry and tediousness, by
refusing to see that for the mass of men measures of
transition from an old to a new system must bo adopted.
If he had boon truer to his earlier methods and retained
the autocratic guidance of his experiments, the chances of
210
SOCIALISM
success would have been greater. Above all, Owen had too
great faith in human nature, and 'he did not understand
the laws of social evolution. His great doctrine of the
influence of circumstances in the formation of character
was only a very crude way of expressing the law of social
continuity so much emphasized by recent socialism. He
thought that he could break the chain of continuity, and
as by magic create a new set of circumstances, which
would forthwith produce a new generation of rational and
unselfish men. The time was too strong for him, and
the current of English history swept past him. Even a
very brief account of Owen, however, would be incomplete
without indicating his relation to Slalthus. Against Mal-
thus he showed that the wealth of the country had, in con-
sequence of mechanical improvement, increased out of all
proportion to the population. The problem, therefore,
was not to restrict population, but to institute rational
social arrangements and to secure a fair distribution of
wealth. Whenever the number of inhabitants in any of
his communities increased beyond the maximum, new
ones should be created, until they extended over the whole
world, uniting all in one great republic with one interest.
There would be no fear of over-population for a long time to
come. Its evils were then felt in Ireland and other coun-
tries ; but that condition of things was owing to the total
want of the most ordinary common sense on the part of the
blinded authorities of the world. The period would prol>
ably never arrive when the earth would be full ; but if it
should the human race will be good, intelligent, and rational,
. and would know much better than the present irrational
generation how to provide for the occurrence. Such was
.Owen's socialist treatment of the population problem.
In England the reform of 1832 had the same effect as
the revolution of July (1830) in France: it brought the
middle class into power, and by the exclusion of the work-
men emphasized their existence as a separate class. The
Sirtism. discontent of the workmen now found expression in Chart-
ism. As is obvious from the contents of the charter,
Chartism was most prominently a demand for political
reform ; but both in its origin and in its ultimate aim
the movement was more essentially economic. As regards
the study of socialism, the interest of this movement lies
greatly in the fact that in its organs the doctrine of " sur-
plus value " afterwards elaborated by Marx as the basis of
his system is broadly and emphatically enunciated. While
the worker produces all the wealth, he is obliged to con-
tent himself with the meagre share necessary to support
his existence and the surplus goes to the capitalist, who,
with the king, the priests, lords, esquires, and gentlemen,
lives Upon the labour of the working man (Poor Man's
Guardian, 1835).
Siristian After the downfall of Owenism began the Christian
.ocialism socialist movement in England (1848-52), of which the
" ij^'^' leaders were Maurice, Kingsley, and Mr Ludlow. The
abortive Chartist demonstration of April 1848 excited in
Maurice and his friends the deepest sympathy with the
sufferings of the English working class, — a feeling which was
intensified by the revelations regarding " London Labour
and the London Poor " published in the Morning Chronicle
(1849). Mr Ludlow, who had in France become acquainted
with the theories of Fourier, was the economist of the
movement, and it was with him that the idea originated-
of starting co-operative associations. In Politics for the
People, in the Christian Socialist, in the pulpit and on
the platform, and in Yeast and Alton Locke, well-known
novels of Kingsley, the representatives of the movement
exposed the evils of the competitive systeiL,, carried on
an unsparing warfare against the Manchester school, and
maintained that socialism rightly understood was only
Christianity applied to social reform. Their labours in
insisting on ethical and spiritual principles as the true
bonds of society, in promoting associations, and in diffusing
a knowledge of co-operation were largely beneficial. In the
north of England they joined hands with the co-operative
movement inaugurated by the Rochdale pioneers (18i4)
under the influence of Owenism. Productive co-operation
made very little progress, but co-operative distribution has
proved a great success.
In 1852 the twofold socialist movement in France and
England had come to a close, leaving no visible result of
any importance. From that date the most prominent
leaders of socialism have been German and Russian. To
reach the beginnings of German socialism we must go back
a little, as it took its rise in the years preceding the revolu-
tion of 1848. Its most conspicuous chiefs are Karl Marx, Kar>
Friedrich Engels, Lassalle, and Rodbertus (for the last ^""
two, see Lassalle and Rodbertus). The greatest and
most influential of the four was unquestionably Marx, who
and his like-minded companion Engels are the acknow-
ledged heads of the "scientific and revolutionary" school
of socialism, which has its representatives in almost every'
country of the civilized world, and is generally recognized
as the most serious and formidable form of socialism.
_ Karl Marx (1818-1883) was of Jewish extraction. He
was born at Treves, and studied at Berlin and Bonn, but
neglected the speciality of law, which he nominally adopted,
for the more congenial subjects of philosophy and history.
He was a zealous student and apparently an adherent of
Hegelianism, but soon gave up his intention of following
an academic career as a teacher of philosophy and joined
the staff of the Rhenish Gazette, published at Cologne as
an organ of the extreme democracy. In 1843, after marry-
ing the sister of the Prussian minister Von Westfalen, he
removed to Paris, where he applied himself to the study of
economic and social questions and began to publish those
youthful writings which must be reckoned among the most
powerful expositions of the early form of German socialism.
With Arnold Ruge he edited the Deutsch- Franz'osische
Jahrbiicher. In 1845 he was expelled from- Paris and
settled in Brussels, where he published his Discours sur le
Libre L^change, and his criticism of Proudhon's Philosophie
de la Misere, entitled Misere de la Philosophie. In Paris
he had already met Friedrich Engels, who Was destined to
be his lifelong and loyal friend and companion-in-arms,
and who in 1845 published his important work Die Lage
der arbeitenden Klasse in England. The two friends found
that they had arrived at a complete identity of opinion ;
and an opportunity soon occurred for an emphatic expres-
sion of their common views. A society of socialists^ a kind
'of forerunner of the International, had established itself
in London, and had been attracted by the new theories of
Marx and the spirit of strong and uncompromising convic-
tion with which he advocated them. They witered into re-
lation with Marx and^ngels; the society was reorganized
under the name of the Communist League ; and a congress •
was held, which resulted (1847) in the framing of the Mani-
festo of the Communist Party, which was published in
most of the languages of western Europe, and is the first
proclamation of that revolutionary socialism armed with
all the learning of the 19th century, but expressed with
the fire and energy of the agitator, which in the Interna
tional and other movements has so startled the world.
During the revolutionary {roubles of 1848 Marx returned
to Germany, and along vrith his comrades Engels, Wolff,
(fee, he supported the most advanced democracy in the
Neio Rhenish Gazette. In 'l849 he settled in London,
where till his death in. 1883 he applied himself to the
elaboration of his economic views and to the realization
of his revolutionary programme. During this period he
published Zur Kritik der politischen Otkonomie (1859),
SOCIALISM
211
and the first volume of Lis great work on canital, Bus
Kapital (1867).
The causes which have variously contributed to the rise
of German socialism are sufficiently clear. With the acces-
sion of the romanticist Frederick AVilliara IV. to the
throne of Prussia in 1840 German liberalism received a
fresh e.xpansion. At the same time the Hegelian school
began to break up, and the interest in [Hire philosophy
began to wane. It was a time of disillusionment, of dis-
satisfaction with idealism, of transition to realistic and even
to materialistic ways of thinking. This found strongest
e.xpression in the Hegelian left, to which, after the ideals
of the old religions and philosophies had proved unsub-
stantial, there remained as solid residuum the real fact of
man with his positive interests in this life. The devotion
and enthusiasm which had previously been fi.xed on ideal
and spiritual conceptions were concentrated on humanity.
To adherents of the Hegelian left, who had been delivered
from intellectual routine by the most intrepid spirit of
criticism, and who, therefore, had little respect for the
conventionalisms of a feudal society, it naturally appeared
that the interests of humanity had been cruelly sacrificed
in favour of class privilege and prejudice. The greatest
thinkers of Germany had recognized the noble elements
in the French Revolution. To recognize also the noble and
promising features of French socialism w»e „. natural thing,
especially for Germans who had been in Paris, — the great
hearth of the new ideas. Here they found themselves
definitely and consciously in presence of the last and
greatest interest of humanity, the suffering and struggling
proletariat of western Europe, which had so recently made
its definite entry in the history of the world. Thus social-
ism became a social, political, and economic creed to Karl
Marx and his associates. But they felt that the theories
which preceded them were wanting in scientific basis ; and
it was henceforward the twofold aim of the school to give
scientific form to socialism and to propagate it in Europe
by the best and most effective revolutionary methods.
iv.s of The fundamental principle of the Mar.x .school and oi the.
f* whole cognate socialism is the theory of " surplus value," —
^J* the doctrine, namely, that, after the labourer has been paid
the wage necessary for the subsistence of himself and
family, the surplus produce of his labour is appropriated
■plus by the capitalist who exploits it. This theory is an applica-
"*• tion of the principle that labour is the. source of value,
which . was enunciated by many of the old writers on
economics, such as Locke and Petty, which v^as set forth
%vith some vagueness and inconsistency by Adam Smith,
and was more systematically expounded by Ricardo. The
socialistic application of the principle in the doctrine of
surplus value had been made both by Owenites and chart-
ists. It was to prevent this appropriation of surplus
value by capitalists and middlemen that the Owen school
tried the system of exchange by labour notes in 1832, —
the value of goods being estimated in labour-time, repre-
sented by labour notes. The jjriuciple that labour is the
source of value has been accepted in all its logical conse-
fiucnces by Marx, and by him elaborated with extraordinary
dialectical skill and historical learning into the most com-
plete system of socialism that haa ever been formulated.
A like application of the principle but in a less rigorous
fashion has been made by Rodbertus ; and it is the same
tlieory that underlies the extravagauciea and parado.xes of
Proudhon. The question whether the priority in the
scientific development of the principle is duo to Marx or
Rodbertus cannot be fully di.scussed here. But it may be
said that, while the Social Letters of Rodbertus to Von
Kirchmann were published ia 1850, the importance of the
principle was understood by the Marx school as early aa
1845, and iu a broad and rcneral way had indeed become
the common property of socialists. The historical imports
ance and scientific worth oi the writings of Rodbertus
should not be overlooked ; nor are they likely to be when
so much attention has been given to him by A, Wagner
and other distinguished German economists. But in the
great work of JIarx the socialist theory is elaborated
with a fulness of learning and a logical power to which
Rodbertus has no claim. With Marx the doctrine of
surplus value receives its widest application and develop-
ment ; it supplies the key to his explanation of the history
and influence of capital, and consequently of the present
economic era, which ii dominated by it. It is the basis,
in fact, of a vast and elaborate system of social philosophy.
In any case it is an absurdity as well as an historical
error to speak of Marx as having borrowed from Rodbertus.
JIarx was an independent thinker of great originality and
force of character, who had made the economic develop-
ment of modern Europe the study of a laborious lifetime,
and who was in the habit, not of borrowing, but of strongly
asserting the results of his own research and of impressing
them upon other men.
The great work of Marx may be described as an- exposit.
tion and criticism of capital. But it is also indirectly an
exposition of socialism, inasmuch as 'the historical evolu-
tion of capital is governed by natural "laws, the inevitable
tendency of which is towards socialism. It is the great
aim of Marx to reveal the law of the economic movement
of modern times. Now the economic movement of moderr<
times is dominated by capital. Explain, therefore, the
natural history of capital, the rise, consolidation, and de-
cline of its supremacy as an evolutionary process, and you
forecast the nature of that into which it is being trans
formed,— socialism. Hence the great task of the Marx
school is not to preach a new. economic and social gospel,
not to provide ready-made schemes of social regeneration
after the fashion of the early socialists, nor to counteract
by alleviating measures the wretchedness of our present
system, but to explain and promote the inevitable process
of social evolution, so that the domination of capital may
run its course and give place to the hiaher system that ia
to come.
The characteristic feature of the r^giijae of capital, or,
as Marx usually calls it, the capitalistic method of produc-
tion, is, that industrial operations are carried on by indi-
vidual capitalists employing free labourers, whose sole
dependence is the wage they receive. Those free labourers
perform the function fulfilled in other states of society by
the slave and the serf. It is the tendency of the capital-
istic system to consolidate those two classes, — the capitalist
class, enriching itself on the profits of industry, which they
control in their own interest, and the class of workers,
nominally free, but without land or capital, divorced, there-
fore, from the means of production, and dependent on their
wages, — the modern proletariat. The great aim of the
capitalist is the increase of wealth through the accumula-
tion of his profits. This accumulation is secured by the
appropriation of what the socialists call surplus value.
The history of the capitalistic method of production is the
history of the appropriation and accumulation of surplus
value. To understand the capitalistic system is to under-
stand surplus value. With the analysis of value, there-
fore, the great work of Marx begins.
The wealth of the societies in which the capitalistic
method of production prevails appears as an enormous
collection of commodities. A commodity is in the first
place an external object adapted to satisfy human wants ;
and this usefulness gives it value in use, makes it a use
value. These use values form the material of wealth,
whatever its social form may bo. In modern societies,
where the business of production is carried on to meet Iho
gl2
SOCIALISM
. fleiiiands of the market, for exchange, these use values
appear as exchange values. Exchange value is the pro-
portion in which use values of different kinds exchange
ior each other. ' But the enormous mass of things that
'circulate in the world market exchange for each other in
the most different proporf.ions. They must, however, have
a common quality or they could not be compared. This
common quality cannot be any of the natural properties
of the commodities. In the business of exchange one
thing is as good as another, provided you have it in
sufficient quantity. Leaving out of consideration, there-
fore, the physical qualities that give commodities use
value, we find in them but one common characteristic, —
that they are all products of human labour. They are all
crystallized forms of human labour. It is labour applied
•to natural objects that gives them value. What con-
stitutes value is the human labour embodied in commo-
dities. And the relation of exchange is only a phase of
■this value, which is therefore to be considered independ-
ently of it. Further, the laboup=time spent in producing
value is the measure of value, not this or that individual
labour, in which case a lazy or unskilled man would pro-
duce as great a quantity of value as the most skilful and
energetic. , We must take as our standard the average
labour-force of the community. The labour-time which
,we take as the measure of value is the time required to
'produce a commodity under the normal social conditions
of production with the average degree of skill and intensity
/of labour. Thus labour is both the source and the measure
W value.
As we have seen, the characteristic feature of the
capitalistic system of production is that industry is con-
trolled by capitalists employing free wage-labour ; that is,
while the capitalist owns and controls the means of pro-
Jduction, the free labourer has lost all ov.-nership in land
and capital and has nothing to depend on but his wage.
This condition of things was established only after a long
and gradual process of social change, which Marx copiously
illustrates from the history of England, as the classic land
,of the fully developed capitalism. In the Middle Ages the
craftsman and peasant were the owners of the small means
of production then extant, and they produced for their
own needs and for their feudal superior ; only the super-
fluity went into the general market. Such production
iwas necessarily small, limited, and technically imperfect.
Towards the close of the Middle Ages a great change
set in caused by a remarkable combination of circum-
fitances, — the downfall of the feudal system and of the
Catholic Church, the discovery of America and of the sea
route to India. Through the breaking up of the feudal
houses with their numerous retainers, through the trans-
formation of the old peasant-holdings into extensive sheep-
runs, and generally through the prevalent application of
the commercial system to the management of land instead
of the Catholic and feudal spirit, the peasantry were driven
off the land, a multitude of people totally destitute of
property were thrown loose from their old means of liveli-
hood, and were reduced to vagabondage or forced into the
(towns. It was in this way that the modern proletarians
made their tragic entry in history. On the other hand,
there was a parallel development of the capitalist class,
brought about by the slave trade, the exploitation of the
American colonies and of both the Indies, and by the
robbery, violence, and corruption which attended the trans-
ference of the land from the Catholic and feudal to the
taiodern regime. The opening and extension of the great
World market, moreover, gave a great stimulus to industry
at home. The old guilds having already been expropriated
and dissolved, the early organization of industry under the
ipoDtrol of an infant capitalism passed through its first
painful and laborious stages, till with the great mechanical
inventions, with the application of steam as the motive-
power, and the rise of the factory system towards the close
of the 18th century, the great industrial revolution was
accomplished, and the capitalistic method of production
attained to its colossal manhood.
The capitalistic system thus established, we have to
remember that in all its forms, and throughout all the
stages of its history, the great aim of the capitalist is to
increase and consolidate his gains through the appropria-
tion of surplus value. This appropriation of surplus
value is a very old phenomenon in human society. In
all the forms of society which depended on slave labour,
and under the feudal regime, the appropriation of the
results of other men's labour was open and undisguised.
Under the capitalistic system it is disguised under the
form, of free contract. The workman appears on the
labour market with the sole commodity of which he has
to dispose, his labour force, and sells it for a specified time
at the price it can bring, which we call his wage, and
which is equivalent to the average means of subsistence
required to support himself and to provide for the future
supply of labour (in his family). But the labour force of
the workman as utilized by the capitalist in the factory
or the mine produces a net value in excess of his wage.
That is, over and above his entire outlay, including the
wage paid to his workmen, the capitalist finds himself in
possession of a surplus, which can only represent the
"unpaid labour" of his workmen. This surplus is the
surplus value of Karl Marx, the product of unpaid
labour. This it is which the capitalist seeks to obtain
and to accumulate by all the methods available. These
methods are described by Marx with great detail and
elaboration through several hundred pages of his first
volume. His account, supported at every step by long and
copious citations from the best historical authorities and
from the blue-books of the various parliamentary com-
missions, is a lurid and ghastly picture of the many abuses
of English industrialism. It is the dark and gloomy
reverse of the industrial glories of England. The fearful
prolongation of the hours of labour, the merciless exploita-
tion of women, and of children from the age of infancy, the
utter neglect of sanitary conditions, whatever could lessen
the costs of production and swell the profits of the capitalist,
though every law of man and nature were violated in
the process, — such are the historical facts which Marx
emphasizes and illustrates with an overwhelming force of
evidence. They receive ample confirmation in the history
of the English Factory Acts, imposed on greedy and un-
scrupulous capitalists after a severe struggle prolonged for
half a century, and required to prevent the moral and
physical ruin of the industrial population.
It will be seen that the first and most conspicuous result
of the capitalistic system is that, while production is a
social operation carried on by men organized and associ-
ated in factories, the product is ai)propriated by individual
capitalists : it is social production and capitalistic apprO'
priation. Another conspicuous and important result is
that, while we have this organization in the factories, we
have outside of thenj all the anarchy of competition. We
have the capitalistic appropriators of the product of labour
contending for the possession of the market, without
systematic regard to the supply required by that market —
each one filling the market only as dictated by his own
interest, and trying to outdo his rivals by all the methods
of adulteration, bribery, and intrigue, — an economic war
hurtful to the best interests of society. With the develop-
ment of the capitalistic system machinery is more and more
perfected, for to neglect improvement is to succumb in the
struggle ; the improved machinery renders labour super-
SOCIALISM
213
'fluoas, which is accordingly thrown idle fend exposed to
starvation. But, as the technique improves, the productive
power of industry increases, and continually tends more
and more to surpass the available needs of the market, wide
as it is. The consequence is that the market tends to be
overstocked even to absolute repletion ; goods will not
sell, and a commercial crisis is established, in which we
have the remarkable phenomenon of widespread panic,
misery, and starvation resulting from a superabundance of
wealth, — a " crise plethorique," as Fourier called it, a crisis
due to a plethora of wealth. These crises occur at periodic
intervals, each one severer and more widespread than
the preceding, until they now tend to become chronic and
permanent, and the whole capitalistic world staggers under
an atlantean weight of ill-distributed wealth. Thus the
process goes on in obedience to its own inherent laws.
Production is more and more concentrated in the hands of
'mammoth capitalists, and colossal joinUstock companies,
under which the proletariat are organized and drilled into
vast industrial armies. But, as crisis succeeds crisis, until
panic, stagnation, and disorder are universal, it becomes
clear that the bourgeoisie are no longer capable of control-
ling the industrial world. The incompatibility between
social production and anarchic distribution decidedly de-
clares itself. With the progress of democracy the prole-
tariat seizes the political power, and through it at last takes
complete control over the economic functions of society.
It expropriates the private capitalist and appropriating
the means of production manages them in its own interest,
which is the interest of society as a whole ; society passes
into the socialistic stage through a revolution determined
by the natural laws of social evolution, and. not by a merely
arbitrary exercise of power. It is a result determined by
the inherent laws of social evolution, independent of the
will and purpose of individual men. All that the most
powerful and clear-sighted intellect can do is to learn to
divine the laws of the great movement of society, and to
shorten and alleviate the birth-pangs of the new era. The
efforts of reactionaries of every class to turn the wheel of
history backwards are in vain. But an intelligent apprecia-
tion of its tendencies and a willing co-operation with them
will make progress easier, smoother, and more rapid.
It will have been seen that what Marx and his school
contemplate is an economic revolution brought about in
accordance with the natural laws of historic evolution.
But in order to understand the full import of this revolu-
tion in the mind of Marx we must remember that he
regards the economic order of society as the groundwork
of the same, determining all the other forms of social
order. The entire legal and political structure as well as
philosophy and religion are constituted and controlled in
accordance with the economic basis. This is in harmony
with his method and his conception of the world, which
is the Hegelian reversed. " For Hegel the thought process,
which he transforms into an independent subject under
the name idea, is the creator of the real, which forms only
its external manifestation. With me, on the contrary, the
ideal is nothing else than the material transformed and
translated in the human brain." His conception of the
world is a frank and avowed materialism. His method is
the dialectic applied to a world thus understood ; the busi-
ness of inquiry, namely, is to trace the connexion and
concatenation in the links that make up the process of
historic evolution, to investigate how one stage succeeds
another in the development of society, the facts and forms
of human life and history not being stable and stereotyped
things, but the ever-changing manifestations of the fluent
and unresting real, the course of which it is the duty of
sdience to reveal. The whrlo position of the Marx school
may therefore be characterized as evolutionary and revolu-
tionary socialism, based on a materialistic conception oi
the world and of human history. Socialism is a social
revolution determined by the laws of historic evolution — '
a revolution which, changing the economic groundwork
of society, vnU change the whole structure.
It will be seen that the work of Marx is a natural history
of capital, especially in its relation to labour, and in its
most essential features is a development of two of tha
leading principles of the classic economics, — that labour
is the source of value, but that of this value the labourer
obtains for himself merely a subsistence wage, the surplus
being appropriated by the exploiting capitalist. Marx's
great work may be described as an elaborate historical de-
velopment of this glaring fundamental contradiction of the
Ricardian economics, the contradiction between the iron
law of wages and the great principle that labour is tha
source of wealth. Marx's conception of labour is the same
as that of Kicardo, and as a logical exposition of the historic
contradiction between the two principles on the basis ol
Ricardo the work of Marx is quite unanswerable. It 13
obvious, however, that the definition of labour assumed
both in Ricardo and Marx is too narrow. The labour they
broadly posit as the source of wealth is manual labour.
In the early stages of industry, when the market was small
'and limited and the technique was of the simplest and
rudest description, labour in that sense might correctly
enough be described as the source of value. But iri
modern industry, when the market is world-wide, ths
technique most complex, and the competition most severe,
when inventiveness, sagacity, courage, and decision in ini-
tiative,- and skill in management, are factors so important
no such exclusive place as has been claimed can be assigned
to labour. The Ricardian principle, therefore, falls to tha
ground. And it is not historically true to maintain, aa
Marx does, that the profits of the capitalist are obtained
simply by appropriating the products of. unpaid labour^
In initiating and managing the capitalist is charged with
the most difiicult and important part of the work of pro-
duction. As a natural consequence it follows that Mar*
is also historically inaccurate in roundly explaining capita)
as the accumulation of unpaid labour appropriated by
the capitalist. In past accumulation, as in the control
and management of industry generally, the capitalist has
had the leading part. Capital, therefore, is not necessarily
robbery, and in an economic order in which the system
of free exchange is the rule, and the mutually beneficial
interchange of utilities, no' objection can be raised to the
principle of lending and borrowing of money for interest.
In short, in His theory of unpaid labour as supplying
the key to his explanation of tiie genesis and development
of the capitalistic system Marx is not true to history. It-
is the -perfectly logical outcome of certain of the leading
principles of the Ricardian school, but it docs not give ar^
adequate or accurate account of the facts of economia
evolution.
, It may indeed be maintained that in his theory of un^
paid labour Marx is' not consistent with the general
principles of his own philosophy of social evolution. With
him history is a process determined by material forces,
a succession of orderly phenomena controlled by natural
laws. Now we may waive the objection suggested by tha
principle enunciated in the Marx school itself, that it i^
not legitimate to apply ethical categories in judgment oa
economic processes that are merely natural, which, how-
ever, Marx does with revolutionary cnii)liasi» throughout
.some hundreds of pages of his great work. Jit is mora
important to point out, in perfect consistency with tho
principles of the school, that tho energy and inventivcncs.l
of the early capitalists especially were tho most essential
factors in determining the existence and development of a
^14
SOCIALISM
great economic era, and that the assertion of freedom was
an indispensable condition in breaking the bonds of the
old feudal order, which the new system displaced. In-
'stead, therefore, of living and growing rich on the produce
of unpaid Jabour, the capitalist had a great social and
industrial function to perform, and played a great part in
historic evolution. The position and function of the
workman was subordinate.
There can be no doubt that in his theory of surplus
"value obtained from unpaid labour Marx as agitator and
controversialist has fallen into serious contradiction with
himself as scientifio historian and philosopher. The theory
that labour is the source of value was widely accepted
among economists during his early life, and by its justice
and nobleness it was well adapted to the comfortable
optimism prevalent among so many of the classical school.
The economists, however, did not follow the principle to
its obvious conclusion, that if labour is the source of
wealth the labourer should enjoy it all. It was otherwise
with the socialists, who were not slow to perceive the
bearing of the theory on the existing economic order. In
his controversial treatise against Proudhon Marx gives a
list of writers (beginning with the political economy of
Hopkins, published in 1822, only five years after the
appearance of Ricatdo's great work) by whom the principle
■was applied to revolutionary purposes. Its simplicity and
seeming effectiveness must have made it most attractive.
•As posited by the classic economy and applied by the
socialists Marx accepted the principle. It was an un-
answerable argument-um ad hoyninem when addressed to
an economist of the Eicardian school; but it should have
broken down when confronted with historical fact. Never-
theless it was made and continued to be the foundation
stone of the system of Marx, and is really its weakest
point. His doctrine of surplus value is the vitiating factor
in his history of the capitalistic system. The most obvious
excuse for him is that he borrowed it from the classic
economists. It would be the greatest possible mistake,
however, to make this a reason for undervaluing the re-
markable services rendered to economics by Karl Marx.
He spent forty laborious years almost wholly in exile as
■ the scientific champion of the proletariat. In the combina-
tion of learning, philosophic acumen, and literary power be
IS probably second to no economic thinker of the 19th cen-
tuTy. He seems to have been master of the whole range of
economic literature, and wielded it with a logical skill not
less masterly. But his great strength lay in his know-
ledge of the technical and economic development of modern
industry and in his marvellous insight inft) the tendencies
in social evolution determined by the technical and economic
• factors. Whether his theories in this department are right
or wrong they have suggested questions that will demand
the attention of economic thinkers for a long time to come.
It is in this department and not in his theory of surplus
value that ilarx's significance as a scientific economist is
to be found;
The great merit of Mars, therefore, lies in the work he
has done as scientific inquirer into the economic movement
of modern times, as the philosophic historian of the capi-
talistic era. It is now admitted by all inquirers worthy of
the name that history, including economic history, is a
-succession of orderly phenomena, that each phase in the
line of succession is marked by facts and tendencies more or
less peculiar to itself, and that laws and principles which we
now condemn had formerly an historical necessity, justifica-
tion, and validity. In accordance with this fundamental
jirinciple of historical evolution arrangements and institu-
tions which were once necessary, and originally formed a
stage in human progress, may gradually develop contradic-
tions and abuses and thus become more or less antiquated.
The economic social and political forms which were the
progressive and even adequate expressions of the life of
one era become hindrances and fetters to the life of the
succeeding times. This, the school of Karl Marx says, is
precisely the condition of the present economic order. The
existing arrangements of landlord, capitalist, and wage-
labourer imder free competition are burdened with contra-
diction and abuse. The life of society is being strangled
by the forms which once promoted it. They maintain
that the really vital and powerful tendencies of our time
are towards a higher and wider form of social and economic
organization, — towards socialism. This we believe to be
the central point of the whole question ; but the fuller
discussion of it can mOre conveniently be postponed to the
close of this article, when we come to consider socialism as
a whole.
The opinions of Marx were destined to find expression in The
two movements, which have played a considerable part itfl"'"
recent history, — the International and the social democracy ^
of Germany. Of the International ilarx was the inspiring
and controlling head from the beginning ; and the German
social democracy, though originated by Lassalle, before long
fell under Marx's influence. Marx wrote the famous inau-
gural address of the InternationaJ)and drew up its statutes,
maintaining a moderation of tone which contrasted strongly
with the outspoken vigour of the communist manifesto of
1847. But it was not long before the revolutionary
socialism which underlay the movement gained the upper
hand. This found strongest expression in the address
drawn up by Marx in 1871 after the suppression of the
commune, and entitled The Ciiil War in France. The
International was not responsible for the revolt of the
commune, which was a rising for the autonomy of Paris, ''
supported chiefly by the lower classes. It was a protest
against excessive centralization raised by the democracy
of Paris, which has always been far in advance of the
provinces, and which found itself in possession of arms
after the siege of the town by the Germans. But, while it
was prominently an assertion of local autonomy, it -was
also a revolt against the economic oppression of the
moneyed classes, and thus contained within it strong
socialistic tendencies. The socialists properly so called
were only a small minority. In this address, however,
lilarx and his associates made themselves morally solidaire
with the commune. They saw in it a great rising against
the existing conditions of the Parisian proletariat, which
only partially saw the way of deliverance, but was tired of
oppression and full of just indignation against the tyrannous
upper classes, that controlled the central government of
France. This address, if it tended to increase the prestige
of the International, greatly reduced its real influence.
Its last meeting as controlled by Marx took place at The
Hague in 1872. The chief himself was present, and
succeeded in casting out the anarchist following of
Bakunin ; but it was the expiring eifort. See Inter-
national.
This loss of influence by ilarx was in the meantime
more than compensated by his success in gaining control
over the social democracy of Germany. Of the workmen's
unions which had grown so rapidly in Germany in the
years following. 1860, and which had first been patronized
by the Progressist party, some had attached themselves to
the national socialism of Lassalle, but many held aloof
from that movement, and under the influence of Liebknecht
and Bebel were gradually drawn over to the views of Marx.
At Lassalle's death in 1864 his "general working-men's
union of Germany " numbered only 4610 members. After
losing its founder the union had a changeful and somewhat
precarious career for a time; and it was only under. the
presidency of Von Schweitzer, which lasted for four years
SOCIALISM
215
(1S67-1871;, that it began moderately to flourish. In the
meantime the adverse party also made considerable progress.
The confederation of German ^'unions, which was founded
li 1S63, declared in 1865 for universal suflragc, pronounced
against the Schulze-Delitzsch scliemes in 18G6, and in the
congress at Nuremberg of 1868 by a large majority declared
their adhesion to the International. In a great congress
at Eisenach in 1869 they founded the "social demociutic
working-men's party," and in the same year sent repre-
sentatives to the International congress at Basel. Great
efforts were made for a fusion of the Eisenach and the
Lassalle party, and this was effected in a congress at Gotha
{51ay 1875). At this congress 25,000 regular members
■were represented, of whom 9000 belonged to the Marx
party and 15,000 to that of Lassalle. The united body
assumed the name of the "socialistic working-men's
party of Germany," and drew up a ))rogramme, which, as
the most important manifesto hitherto published by any
socialist body, deserves to be given entire.
I. Labour is tlie source of all wealth an J all culture, and as use-
ful work in general is poBsible only through society, so to society —
that is, to all its members — belongs the entire product of labour by
an equal right, to each one according to his reasonable wants,— all
being bound to work.
In tlie existing society the instruments of labour are a monopoly
of the capitalist class ; tlie subjection of the working class thus
arising is the cause of misery and servitude in every foini.
The emancipation of the working class demands the transforma-
tion of the instruments of labour into the common property of
society and the co-operative control of the total labour, with
application of the product of labour to the common good, and just
distribution of the same.
The emancipation of labour must be the work of the labouring
class, in contrast to which all other classes are only a reactionary
mass.
II. Proceeding from these pr!ncii)les, the socialistic working-men's
I>arty of Germany aims by all legal means at the establishment of
the free state and the socialistic society, to destroy the iron law of
rtagcs by abolishing the system of wage-labour, to- put a term to
exploitation in every form, to remove all social and political in-
equality.
The socialistic working-men's party of Germany, though working
first of all within the national limits, is conscious of the inter-
national character of the labour movement, and resolved to fulfil
all duties which this imposes on the workmen, iu order to realize
the universal brotherhood of men.
In Older to pi'epare the way for the solution of the social question,
the socialistic working-men's party of Germany demands the estab-
lishment of socialistic productive associations with state help under
the democratic control of the labouring people. The productive
associations are to be founded on such a- scafb botli for industry
and agriculture that out of them may develop the socialistic organi-
zation of the total labour.
The socialistic working-men's party demands as bases of the
state — (1) universal, cnual, and direct right of electing and
voting, witli secret and obligatory voting, of all citizens from twenty
3'ears of age for all elections and deliberations in the state aiul local
bodies ; the day of election or voting must be a Sunday or holiday;
(2) direct legislation by the people ; questions of war and peace to
be decided by the people ; (3) universal military duty ; a peo[>lc's
army iu place of the standing armies ; (4) abolition of all excep-
tional laws, especially as regards the press, uuion.s, and meetings,
and generally of all laws which restrict freedom of thought ami
inquiry ; (5) administration of justice by the people ; free justice ;
(6) universal and equal education by the state ; compulsory educa-
tion ; free education in all public jjlaces of instruction ; religion
tleclared to be a private concern.
Within the existing society the socialistic working-men's party of
Germany demands — (1) greatest possible extension of political
ri;^h>3 and liberties in the sense of the above demands ; (2) a single
jiiogressive income-tax for state and local purposes, instead of the
<'xisling taxes, and especially of the indirect tuxes that oppress the
pcojdc ; (3) unrestricted right of combination ; (4) a normal work-
ing-day corresponding to the needs of society ; prohibition of Sun-
<lay labour ; (5) prohibition of labour of children, and of all women's
work injurious to liealth and morality ; (0) laws for the protection
of the life and health of workmen ; sanitary control of workmen's
dwellings ; inspection of mines, of factories, workshops, and house-
labour, by officinls chosen by the workmen ; an cITcctive employers'
liability Act ; (7) regulation of prison labour; (8) workmen a funds
to be under the entire control of the workmen.
Bv this time the socialism o( Oermuny tegan to bn a
power, which was calculated to excite grave alarm among
the^ruling classes. The social democrats had returned Kv9
members to the North German diet in 1867. For thq
German diet in 1871 tliey had counted only 120,000
votes, and returned two members; but in 1877 they'had
returned twelve members and polled nearly half a million.
In Berlin the socialist voting strength had risen from 6695
in 1871 to 57,511 in 1878,— an increase which was all the
more remarkable that Lassalle could hardly obtain a hear-
ing in the capital when he commenced his career. A much
more significant feature of the movement was the admirabio
state of organization to which the socialist propaganda had
attained. A large number of skilful, intelligent, and ener-
getic agitators spread their doctrines throughout Germanyj
a whole machinery of newspapers, pamjihlets, treatises,
social gatherings, and even almanacs diffused the new
creed. In all the great centres of population, in Berlin,
Hamburg, and the industrial towns in Saxony and on the
Rhine, the socialists were rapidly tending to become the
strongest party. The Government accordingly intervened
with exceptional legislation, which in 1878 was carried
during the excitement occasioned by the attempts on the
emperor's life of Hodel and Nobeling. These exceptional
laws, though administered with great rigour, have not by
any means succeeded in arresting the progress of the move-
ment, as at the election to the Reichstag in 1884 the
socialists polled about 600,000 votes and returned twenty^
four members. Berlin alone counted 68,000 socialist
voters. In the last report relating to the anti-socialist
law laid before the Reichstag (1885) the continued pro-
gress of the party is admitted.
The participation of the Catholic Church of Germany in
the social question dates from the period of the Lassalle
agitation. In 1863 Doilinger recommended that the
church should intervene in the movement, and Bishop von
Ketteler of Mainz lost no time in expressing sympathy
with Lassalle. In a treatise entitled Die Arbeittrfraye und
das Christenthum (1864) Ket'teler criticizes the liberalism
of the Manchester school in substantially the same terms
as Lassalle, and recommends the voluntary formation of
productive associations with capital supplied by the faith-
ful. In 1868 the Catholic socialism of Germany took a
more practical form : it started an organ of its own and
began to organize unions for the elevation of the working
men. The principles of the movement have been with
some precision expounded by Canon Jloufang in an elec-
toral address at Mainz (1871), and by the lyriters in their
organ. All agree in conafemning the principles of liberalr
ism, especially in its economic aspects, as destructive of
society and pernicious to the working-man, who, unr'er the
pretence of freedom, is exposed to all the precariousness
and anarchy of competition and sacrificed to the iron la\f
of wages. Self-help as practised in the Schulze-Delitzscli
schemes is also considered to be nc sure way of deliverance.
This general remedy is union on Catholic principles,
especially the formation of trade guilds suited to modern
exigencies, which some of their leaders would make a
compulsory measure enforced by the state. The views o*
Moufang, which are most definite, may be thus summa*
ized : legal i)rotcction for the workers, especially as regard*
hours of labour, wages, the labour of women and children,
.sanitation ; subventions for workmen's productive associa-
tions; lightening of taxes on labour; control of the moneyed
and speculating interests. In the organization of imioD.*
the success of Catholic socialism has been great; and the
social democrats admit that they can make no progres*
in Catholic districts where the church has developed its
social activity.
The socialist activity of the I'rotestantCliurch of Ocrman-y
dates Irom 18/ 8. 'iho most iniportani iilsiary product o.
215
SOCIALISM
4he movement is a work by Pastor Todt entitled Der radi-
hale deutsche Socialismus und die ckristlicke Gesellschaft.
In this work Todt condemns the economics of liberalism as
unchristian, and seeks to show that the fdeals of liberty,
equality, and fraternity are entirely Scriptural, as are also
the socialist demands for the abolition of private property
and of the wage system,, that the labourer should have the
full produce of his labour, and that labour should be
associated. The chief leader of the movement is the
court preacher Stocker, the head also of the anti-Semitic
agitation, which is largely traceable to economic causes.
Stocker founded two associations, — a central union for social
reform, consisting of members of the middle classes inter-
ested in the emancipation of labour, and a Christian social
working-men's party. The former has had considerable
success, especially among the' Lutheran clergy. The move-
ment has met with the most strenuous resistance from the
social democratic party and has been greatly hampered by
the anti-socialist law of 1878.
Little can here be said of the state socialism of Bismarck,
—a very recent movement, which has not yet had time
to pass into history. Its leading principles were announced
in an imperial message to the Reichstag in November 1881.
Besides the repressive measures necessary to restrain the
excesses of the social democracy, the emperor declared that
the healing of social evils was to be sought in positive
measures for the good of the working man. The measures
proposed were for the insurance of the workmen against
accident, sickness, old age, and inability to work by ar-
rangeuents under state control. " The finding of the right
ways and means for this state protection of the working
man is a difficult task, but also one of the highest that
concern every society standing on the ethical foundations
of the Christian national hfe." The message then proceeds
to speak of measures for "organizing the life of the people
in the form of corporative associations under the protection
and furtherance of the- state," — a clause which might be
taken as an admission of the collectivist principle. As
yet the imperial programme has only been partially
realized. It will be obvious that such measures can be
rightly appreciated only with reference to the general
theory and practice of Prussian government.
: The acknowledged father of anarchism isPE0trDH0N(j.D.);
out the doctrine owes its development chiefly to Russian
thinkers who had been trained in the Hegelian left.
The great apostle of the system in its advanced and most
characteristic stage was Mchael Bakunin. Bakunin was
aprung from the highest Russian aristocracy, and was
Vorn at Torshok, in the government of Tver, in 1814.
Leaving th« army, in which he served for some time, he
visited western Europe, chiefly Paris, where he met
George Sand and Proudhon in 1847. For his share
in the German disturbances of 1849 he was imprisoned
in Russia for. several years and then sent to Siberia,
from which he escaped, and spent the rest of his life in
exile in western Europe, principally in Switzerland. In
1869 he founded the Social Democratic Alliance, which,
however, dissolved in the same year and entered the
International. In 1870 he attempted a rising at Lyons
on the principles afterwards exemplified by the Paris
commune. At The Hague congress of the International
in 1872 he was outvoted and expelled by the Marx
party. Bakunin's activity was most remarkable as an
agitator. The international socialism of the Romance
countries, especially that of Spain and Italy, has been
largely moulded by him. He died at Bern in 1876.
Nothing can be clearer or more frank and comprehensive
in its destruotiveness than the socialism of Bakunin. It
is revolutionai'y socialism based on materialism and aim-
ing at the destruction of external authority by every
available means. He rejects all the ideal systems in every
name and shape, from the idea of God downwards ; and
he rejects every form of external authority, whether
emanating from the will of a sovereign or from universal
suflTrage. " The liberty of man," he says in his Dieu et
L'£tat, " consists solely an this, that he obey the laws of
nature, because he has himself recognized them as such,
and not because they have been imposed upon him ex-
ternally by any foreign will whatsoever, human or divine,
collective or individual." In this way will the whole
problem of freedom be solved : that natural laws be ascer-
tained by scientific discovery, and the knowledge of them
be universally diffused among the masses. Natural laws
being thus recognized by every man for himself, he cannot
but obey them, for they are the laws also of his own
nature ; and the need for political organization, adminis-
tration, and legislation will at once disappear. Nor will
he admit of any privileged position or class, for " it is the
peculiarity of privilege and of every privileged position to
kill the intellect and heart of man. The privileged man,
whether he be privileged politically or economically, is a
man depraved in intellect and heart." " In a word, we
object to all legislation, all authority, and all influence,
privileged, patented, oflicial, and legal, even when it 4ias
proceeded from universal suffrage, convinced that it must
always turn to the profit of a dominating and exploiting
minority, against the interests of the immense majority
enslaved." The anarchy of Bakunin is therefore essen-
tiaUy the same as that of Proudhon, but expressed with-
out paradox, and with a destructive revolutionary energy
which has seldom been equalled in history. WTiat they
both contemplate is a condition of human enlightenment
and self-control in which the individual shall be a law to
himself, and in which all external authority shall be
abolished as a despotic interference with personal freedom.
It is an ideal to which the highest religion and philosophy
look forward as the goal of man, not as one, however,
which can be forthwith reached through the wholesale
destruction of the present framework of society, but
through a long process of ethical and social improvement.
The error of the anarchists consists in their impatient in-
sistence on this proclamation of absolute freedom in the
present debased condition of the great mass of the people
in every class. They insist on taking the last step in
social development before they have quite taken the first.
The other leading principles of anarchism will be best
understood from the following extracts taken from the
programme of the International Social Democratic Alliance.
The Alliance demands above all things the definitive
and complete abolition of classes, and political, economic,
and social equality of individuals and sexes, and abolition
of inheritance, so that in the future every man may enjoy
a like share in the produce of labour ; that land and soil,
instruments of labour, and all other capital, becoming the
common property of the whole society, may be used only
by the workers, that is, by associations of cultivators and
industrialists. It looks forward to the final solution of
the social question through the universal and international
solidarity of the workers of all countries, and condemns
every policy grounded on so-called patriotism and national
jealousy. It demands the universal federation of all
local associations through the principle of freedom.
Bakunin's methods of realizing his revolutionary pro-
gramme are not .less frank and destructive than his
principles. The revolutionist, as he would recommend
him to be, is a consecrated man, who will allow no private
interests or feelings, and no scruples of religion, patriot-
ism, or morality, to turn him aside from his mission, the
aim of which is by all available means to overturn th^
existing society- His work is merciless and universal
SOCIALISM
217
destruction. The future organization will doubtless pro-
ceed out of the movement and life of the people, but it is
the concern of coming generations. In the meantime all
that Bakunin enables us to see as promise of future re-
construction is the free federation of free associations, —
associations of which we find the. type in the Russian
commune.
Bakunin,. as we have seen, has had great influence on
the socialism of the Romance countries. The important
risings in Spain in 1873 were due to his activity ; and the
socialism of Italy has been largely inspired by him. In
those countries, as well as in France and French Switzer-
land, anarchist doctrines of the same general type as that
of Bakunin are still in vogue, and are advocated by men of
n;ark in literature and science like Kropotkine and Elis^e
Reclus. The views of the propaganda which they repre-
sent were most clearly and distinctly brought out during
the great anarchist trial at Lyons in 1883. What they
aim at is the most absolute freedom, the most complete
satisfaction of human wants, without other limit than the
impossibilities of nature and the wants of their neighbours
equally worthy of respect. They object to all authority
and all government on principle, and in all human rela-
tions would in place of legal and administrative control
substitute free contract, perpetually subject to revision
and cancelment. But, as no freedom is possible in a society
where capital is monopolized by a diminishing minority,
they believe that capital, the common inheritance of
humanity, since it is the fruit of the co-operation of past
and present generations, ought to be at the disposal of all,
so that no man be excluded from it, and no man seize
part of it to the detriment of the rest. In a word, they
wish equality, equality of fact, as corollary or rather as
primordial condition of freedom. From each one accord-
ing to his faculties ; to each one according to his needs.
They demand bread for all, science for all, work for all ;
for all, too, independence and justice. Even a government
based on universal suffrage gives them no scope for effective
action in the deliverance of the poor, as they maintain
that of the eight million electors of France only some half
a Tnillipn are in a position to give a free vote. In such a
state of affairs, and in view of the continued misery and
degradation of the proletariat, they proclaim the sacred
right of insurrection as the ultima ratio servorum.
lusslan It is an interesting fact that socialism has taken its
IhUism most aggressive form in that European country whose
civilization is most recent. The revolutionary opinions of
Russia are not the growth of the soil, and are not the
natural and normal outcome of its own social development :
they have been imported from abroad. Falling on youth-
ful and enthusiastic temjieraments which had not previously
been inoculated with the principle of innovation, the new
ideas have broken forth with an irrepressible and uncom-
promising vigour which has astonished the older nations
of Europe. Another peculiarity of the situation is that
the Government is an autocracy served or controlled by a
camarilla largely foreign both in origin and sympathy. In
this case, then, we have a revolutionary party inspired by
the socialism of western Europe fighting against a Govern-
ment which is also in many ways an exotic and is not
rooted in the mass of the people. The chief support of
the Government is to be found in the reverence of the
peasantry for the person and office of the czar, while the
nihilists look upon the communal institutions of the
country as their great ground of hope. Considered as a
■national movement, three distinct stages are recognized in
the phenomena called Russian nihilism. In its fir.st stage
it was a speculative and anti-religious tendency, destructive
of all orthodox tradition and authority. It was the spirit
of the Hegelian left frankly accepting the materialism of
02--")"
Biichncr and Moleschott as the final dehver^nce of philo-
sophy ; and the time was the early years of Alexander U.,
when the old despotic restraints were so largely removed, —
a period of reform and innovation and comparative freedom.
In a country where religion had little influence among the
educated classes, and where philosophy was not a slow and
gradual growth of the native mind, but a fashion imported
from abroad, the most destructive materialism found an
easy conquest. It was the prevalent form among the
fidvanced thinkers ; it was clear, simple, and thorough ;
and it suited well the anti-religious mood of the time. By
the side of this negative speculation, however, the Russian
youth became aware of a new creed, destructive also in its
beginnings, but full of the positive promise of future recon-
struction .and regeneration, — socialism. Here they saw
the struggle of the proletariat, so terribly conspicuous in
the Paris commune, which attracted universal attention in
1871, a proletariat represented in Russia by a nation of
peasantry sunk in immemorial ignorance and wretched-
ness. At this period hundreds of young Russians of both
sexes were studying in western Europe, especially in
Switzerland. In 1873 they were by an imperial ukaze
recalled home, but they carried the new ideas with them.
The period of specxilation was succeeded by a period of
socialist propaganda, which naturally met with implacable
opposition and merciless repression from the Government.
As they received no meicy, the nihilists determined to show
none; and in 1878 began the terrible duel of the Russian
revolutionists against the autocracy and its servants, which
culminated in the violent death of Alexander II. in 1881.
How far we are to regard the revolutionary movement
of Russia as cognate in principle with anarchism is not
easy to determine. In despotic countries, where consti-
tutional reform and opposition to government are not
tolerated, resolute innovators are naturally driven to secret
conspiracy and to violent action. What distinguishes the
Russian revolutionary party from other movements of a like
nature is the intensity of the enthusiastic devotion and self-
sacrifice with which they have braved death, imprisonment,
exile, and privation in every form and the calculating skill
with which they have called the resources of modern
chemistry to their aid. There is no doubt that the
doctrines of men like Bakunin have had great influence
on Russian socialism ; but so have the writings of Marx,
as also of J. S. Mill and other advanced thinkers, who
have no connexion with anarchism. It is certain that
the leaders of the revolutionary party resorted to violent
measures only after their peaceful propaganda was being
ruthlessly suppressed. With regard to political reform
many of their leaders have declared that tlicy would be
satisfied with constitutionalism. In the address sent to
the emperor Alexander III. after the death of his father
in March 1881, the executive committee of the revolu-
tionary party offered to submit unconditionally to a national
assembly duly elected by the people. In this recognition
of constitutionalism, as well as in the strongly centralized
organization of their executive, the Russian revolutionary
party are essentially at variance with anarchism. In
economics they advocate a thoroughgoing collectivism.
Wo have now given a brief outline of the various forms
of socialism as they have historically appeared. It may
be useful to group them as accurately and clearly as possible.
(1) Experiments in socialism conducted by private initia^
tive, as carried on in the schools of Saint-Simon, Fourier,
and Owen ; not that they objected to state help, but
that, in point of fact, their efforts were conducted by pri^
vuto means. (2) Productive associations with state help:
the programme of economic change favoured by Louis Blans
and Lassallo. (3) The Marx school of socialism, scientifii;
and revolutionary, beyond all comparison the most im:
218
SOCIALISM
portant and most influential of all forms of socialism.
(4) Anarchism. (5) Nihilism. (6) Christian socialism ;
inasmuch as the various phases of Christian socialism
condemn the principle of competition as operating in
modern industry, and favour the organization of labour on
united principles, and especially of productive associations
with a common capital and an equitable system of distri-
bution, they must be regarded as true forms of socialism.
(7) To these should be added the speculative socialism of
■which Eodbertus is the most remarkable example ;, recog-
nizing the fundamental evils of the present system and
agreeing with the Marx school in holding that socialism
is the next stage in social evolution, Rodbertus believed
that the period of its realization is so remote that ajay
decidedly jiractical effort towards that end is inapplicable ;
hence he could only recommend transitional remedial
measures, which wiU at least circumscribe the mischief
inherent in the present economic order and also pave the
way towards a better state. (8) And last of all may be
added the various forms of state socialism, which are all
examples of state action on behalf of the poor, especially
of the use of the public resources for that purpose. The
word " socialism " is very frequently used in this sense.
As the continued use of the word in such a way is almost
a certainty, this phase of the subject must be recognized
here. It may be described as socialistic inasmuch as it
fully admits the responsibility of society for all its
members ; but in many respects its tendencies are opposed
to true socialism. It is a vague movement which has not
yet had time to take shape, and cannot be discussed here.
" Socialism of the chair " has already been discussed under
Political Econojiy, vol xix. p. 393.
The above classification can of course pretend only to
be a lough and general one. The various heads of the
classification are not exclusive. The first variety has chiefl}
an historical interest. The American communities (dis-
cussed under Cb.MMTiNisM) are really cases of the old crude
communism. Productive associations with state help
stand on the Gbtha programme-of the social democrats of
Germany. They are recommended by Christian socialists,
both Catholic and Protestant, and they form an important
item in the programme of the "knights of labour" of
America. The resemblance in type between the "com-
munity" of Owen, the phalange of Fourier, the mir or
commune of Russia, and the free commune of Bakunin is
apparent. It is the social unit as determined by obvious
economic, local, and historical conditions, and in socialism
naturally becomes the point of departure for a new con-
struction of society. It wiU have been noted that most
of the important phases of socialism have been and are
international in sj-mpathy and activity. The Marx so-
cialism is spreading in nearly every country of the civilized
world, the doctrine being diffused by energetic agitators,
and not seldom by men of philosophic and literary
culture. In late years this is true both of France and
England. It is well known how active anarchism has
been. The Christian socialist movement is more or less
operative in Belgium, France, Germany, Austria, and to
some extent in England.
In this article our aim has been to give an expository
and historical account of the various phases of socialism.
It is impossible even to refer to all the different questions
suggested in our sketch ; and to discuss the relations of
antagonism and affinity between socialism and' the pre-
vailing social and economic ideas and institutions would
require a long and elaborate treatise. In the course of
the article many obvious points of relationship, and parti-
cularly of contrast, between socialism and political economy
have presented themselves. All that we can now do is to
emphasize a few of the more important of these. The
scope of the current political economy of Great Britain may
be broadly defined as follows : — given the existing
arrangements with regard to land, capital, and labour, to
determine the economic phenomena and the economic
laws that will prevail under a system of free individual
competition. As we have abundantly seen, socialism is
diametrically opposed to the permanent continuance of
these arrangements. It looks forward to the time when
the present system of individual property in land and
capital served by wage-laboiir will pass away, and when
free competition on that. basis will cease with the system
of which it is a part. It regards the present economic
order with the laws and conditions peculiar to it as a pass-
ing phase in the historic evolution of mankind, with no
greater claim to permanence or finality than other historic
eras which have had their day. What enlightened socialism
above all demands is that an unprejudiced science should
endeavour to distinguish between such economic laws as are
permanently groimded in the nature of man and his en-
vironment and such as have their validity only in the exist-
ing economic order, between such as are endurtngly founded
on nature and such as are only the accidents or temporary
manifestations of a changing civilization. Socialists appeal
to history to prove that what the orthodox economy con-
sidered the natural and normal order of things, with its dis-
tribution of wealth under the three categories of r^nt, profit,
and wages, is really an exceptional phenomenon limited
both in extent and duration. It is therefore an obvious
error to speak of socialism as roundly controverting econo-
mic law. It is no business of socialism to controvert a
law grounded in nature, such as the physiological basis of
the law of population ; but it denies the applicability of
the Malthusian precept under the present condition, when
wealth is superabundant, but badly distributed owing to
causes for which neither nature nor science, but human
selfishness and ignorance are responsible. Nor does it lie
in the principles of socialism to question the validity of
those special economic laws that hold good under the
present economic order. Some of these, such as the iron
law of wages, socialism is disposed rather to accentuate
unduly as a necessity of the present system. It is the
aim of socialism to abolish the conditions under which such
laws have their validity. Socialists object to the present
economic order hecaitse of the necessity of results which
are opposed to human wellbeing. They object entirely to
the existing order with its distribution of the produce of
labour into the three categories of rent, profit, and wages,
because on it are founded class distinctions, with the
consequent antagonism of classes, and the subjection and
degradation of the lower classes, — holding that economic
subjection involves all other forms of subjection and
degradation. In short, scientific socialism as represented
by Marx and Friedrich Engels appeals against the existing
economic order, of which the orthodox political economy
is an exposition and for which it is so frequently an
apology, to the higher laws and principles of social evolu-
tion as determined by the nature of man in relation to the
environment in which he lives and develops.
There is no space here to trace historically the influence
of political economy in the genesis of socialism, nor that
of socialism on the recent political economy. It has natu-
rally been the tendency of socialism to emphasize the idea
of the worth and significance of labour, so prominent in the
school of Adam Smith. This was one of the most valuable
features of the Saint-Simon school, otherwise so much dis-
figured with utopianism and extravagance. As we have
seen, the socialism of Marx is in some of its most im-
portant aspects a development of Piicardian principles.
Turning to the influence of socialism on political economists,
we need but refer to that exercised by French socialism
SOCIAI ISJM
219
On J. S. Mill, as described in his Autobiography. The
ecMnomics of Germany has for the last fifteen years been
most powerfully affected by the theories of Lassallc, Marx,
and latterly also of Eodbertus. The causes which have
produced socialism have also affected economics ; but a
large part of the change is due directly to the teaching of
the socialists, especially of Marx, whose great work is re-
cognized as of the first importance. Without commanding
assent to its leading conclusions, socialism has given a new
• direction to most of the recent Continental research in
political economy. The German "socialism of the chair,"
, the influence of which is by no means confined to the
oountrj- that produced it, is sufficient evidence of this.
As we have already seen, Marx and his school accept in
ihe completest form the doctrine of evolution, which they
learned first in Hegel, but finally hold as taaight by Darwin;
and, in common with most socialists, from Saint-Simon
downwards, they recognize three stages in the economic
development of society, — slavery, serfdom, and wage-labour,
— which last they believe will be displaced by an era of
associated labour with a collective capital. But how, it
is asked, does this theory of socialism as the next goal of
society consist with the Darwinian doctrine of the struggle
forexistence and the survival of the fittest? Is not com-
petition,' this bile noire of the socialists, simply the social
and economic fbrm of the struggle for existence? . Is not
competition, therefore, the very condition of social progress ?
Is not socialism, therefore, inconsistent with progress 2 The
question suggested is ,a large and complicated one, to
which we cannot here pretend to give an exhaustive or
determinate answer, but can only indicate some of the
main lines of discussion. (1) In all periods of human
development, and especially in its higher stages, progress
consists most essentially in a growing social and ethical
virtue and in the cultivation of the beautiful both in
sentiment and art. With such an enlarging ideal of
progress, how harmonize a system of competition like the
present, by which millions in every great European country
are effectively deprived of the means of development, and
even of bare livelihood ? The struggle for existence has
always been modified by social and ethical conditions. If
it is to continue, as it will in various forms, it should be
carried on under higher conditions, suitable to a higher
and less animal stage in the evolution of man. (2) Human
progress has undoubtedly been attained through struggle,
especially through the struggle for existence ; but the
struggle has essentially been one of men united in society,
of tribe against ta'ibe, of city against city, of nation against
nation, and race against race. Thus it is easy to exagger-
ate unduly the importance of the struggle of the individual
man. History has only too often seen the abnormal de-
velopment of private selfishness, so overgi-own as to weaken,
and finally dissolve and overthrow, the society in which it
acted, thereby accomplishing its o'wn destruction. This
is indeed the open secret of the ruin of most of the com-
inunities that have existed. In short, a happy and healthy
Individual development can bo secured only through its
iue subordination to social virtue and the general welfare.
Human progress has been by strong societies with a well-
levelojjed social and public virtue. The excessive develop-
nent of "individualism" within a society has been its
.veakness and ruin. (3) While emphasizing the extreme
mportance of the hereditary principle, especially as con-
lected with the fundamental institution of the family, we
.hould also recognize its tendency to abuse in perpetuating
;he enormous inequalities of property and condition, many
)f which originated in a less perfect system of society.
The hereditary principle has indeed greatly contributed to
Jie solidity and continuity of the social order ; but it also
{Ives an exceptional advantage in the struggle for existence
to the privileged few. In this point, therefore, the prese»ii
system does not best fulfil the requirements of the evolutioa
theory as applied to society. The struggle is not one of
merit. It is frequently one of merit against hereditary
privilege ; not seldom it is one of privilege against privilege
without regard to merit at all. (4) In considering the
possibilities of human progress afforded by tlie present
system of society in the light of the evolution theory, it is
impossible to ignore the fact that the continuance of the
race depends most on the less fit members of society, on.
tne lower strata, which are thriftless, the worst fed, and
worst educated. While the classes which are most in-
telligent and endowed with self-control abstain froia
marriage or defer it, those who have the lowest organizar-
tion marry early and have large families. Even to per-
petuate disease and deformity is not considered wrong
It may be that prohibitory and restrictive laws, even i
passed, would prove inoperative and ineffectual in restrain
ing so many hasty and ill-considered unions that onl}
serve to multiply misery and disease ; but it is surely
excusable at least to inquire whether this abuse of freedom'
could not be curtailed by strengthening thft social union
and increasing the pressure of the enlightenment and moral,
sense of the community. (5) Above all, as the tendency
of the present order is to give the victory to cheapness, it
may be asked whether competition, — the economic form of
the struggle for existence — is really such a sure and potent
element of progress, unless most powerfully counteracted
by other principles ? In short, history is the resultant of
many complex forces, and it is easy to push too far the
formulae of any system. It is out of the balance and
harmony of many principles, of which the struggle for
existence is but one, that human progress can proceed,
(6) The main point is that in social evolution the widest
phase of the struggle for existence is between forms of
social organization. Hence the great question as regards
socialism is whether it is the fittest form of social organ-
ization for the time coming ? Is it best adapted to carry
forward and develop in wider and more adequate forn
the progressive lif^ of the future ?
While many socialists have announced lax views regard-
ing marriage and the family, it cannot in view of popular,
misunderstanding be sufficiently emphasized that thi
essence of socialism is^ an economic change. It enunciates
no special doctrine on the relation of the sexes. In common
with other social reformer.s, socialists generally advocate
the equality of the sexes and the emancipation of women ;
they object to the mercenary element so common in mar-
riage ; and they abhor prostitution as one of the worst and
vilest of existing evils, believing, moreover, that it is a
necessary result of the present distinction of classes and of
the unequal distribution of wealth. The views of the
anarchists have already been noted. In the Marx school
there is a tendency to denounce the legally binding con-
tract in marriage. But such \'iews all belong to the
accidents of socialism.
So with regard to religion. Socialism has been and*
still is very frequently associated with irreligion and'
atheism. The same • remark applies to Continental
liberalism, and partly for a like reason : the absolute
Governments of the Continent have taken the existing
forms of religion into their service and have repressed re-
ligious freedom. On religion as on marriage socialism
has no special teaching. While the anarchists of the
school of Bakunin would overturn all forms of religion
and reject the idea of God, the social democrats of Ger-
many in their Gotha programme of 1875 declare religion
to be a private concern. As wo have seen, Clinstian
socialism is a considerable force in many European coun-
tries ; and in many of the other schools, especially that of
.220
SOCIALISM
"Xouis Blanc, the kinship and even identity of ethical spirit
•with that of Christianity are unmistakable.
In their revolutionary impatience the anarcnisis have
avowed their hostility to all the existing political forms
except the free commune, which alone will be left standing
amid the general wreck they contemplate. The Marx
school, as represented by its ablest living exponent, Friedrich
Engels, also look forward to a period in the evolution of
society when the state will become superfluous, and, having
no longer any function to perform, will die away. The
state they regard as an exploiting institution, an organiza-
tion of the ruling classes for retaining the workers in
economic subjection. The International was an attempt
to supersede the exploiting states by a combination of the
•workers of all countries -without distinction of creed, colour,
or nationality. When the workers in the name of the
whole society seize political power and take over the con-
trol of production, the rule of classes, their conflicts and
the excesses of the struggle for existence among them, •wiU
cease. Instead of a government over persons we shall
have an administration of things and the control of pro-
ductive processes. Obviously the Marx school reserve the
realization of this idea till the evolution of society has
prepared the way for it. In the conduct of the Inter-
national they insisted on a strongly centralized form of
organization as against the free federalism and the rejection
of all authority maintained by Bakunin and his followers.
This opposition between centralization and federalism does
not concern us here ; it is a question common to theoretical
and practical politics. It is necessary, however, to say a
word about the opposition between the national tendency
of the Lassalle school and the international socialism of
Marx. As we have seen, a compromise was effected in
the Gotha programme of 1875, in which the importance
of the nation as an existing form of human society is
amply recognized. The question is stUl discussed in the
organs of the social democrats ; but the international tend-
ency is decidedly the prevalent one. " Waut of patriotism "
is one of the current epithets of reproach cast at them.
It is needless to point out that as most new movements of
importance have been revolutionary, so also have they for
good or evil been international. In becoming international
the labour movement has only followed the example sest
by commerce, finance, diplomacy, religion, philosophy, art,
music.
We have now reviewed the most important aspects of
the socialist movement. As we have seen, socialism is a
new form of social organization, based on a fundamental
change in the economic order of society. Socialists believe
that the present economic order, in which industry is
carried on by private competitive capital, must and ought
to pass away, and that the normal economic order of the
future will be one with collective means of production and
associated labour working for the general good. This
principle of socialism is cardinal and fundamental. All
the other theories so often connected with it and- so im-
portant in relation to religion, philosophy, marriage,
patriotism, &c., are with regard to socialism non-essential.
Questions of method, though supremely important, must
also be distinguished from the essential principle. At the
same time it will be seen that an economic change, suth
as that contemplated in socialism, would most powerfully
affect every other department of human life. Socialism, in
short, means that in industry, in the economic arrange-
ments of society, the collective or co-operative principle
shall become normal or universal, that all who are able
should contribute to the service of society, and that all
should share in the fruits of the associated labour accenting
to some good and equitable principle. In such a condition
of thines the noblest field for ambition wiU be in the
service of society, — an ideal which is already partially real-
ized in the democratic state. It is in this fundamental
sense that J. S. Mill declared himself a socialist.^ It ia
in this sense also that Albert SchaflBe, one of the first living
authorities on economics and sociology, has, after long
years of study of the subject, come to the conclusion that
"the future belongs to the purified socialism."*
Scientific socialists strongly insist that this economic
order of the future cannot be realized by Utopian schemes
or arbitrary legislation or niero revolutionary disturbance.
If it come at all, it must come as tie consummation of
the dominant tendencies of modern social development ; it
must be realized under the conditions prescribed by our
nature and environment. In discussing the doctrines of
Marx we stated that the central point of the question was
this — do the strongest forces of the social development of
our time really tend towards the superseding of the present
economic order and towards the establishment of a new
and wider order based on collective capital and associated
labour 1 Socialists maintain that they do, and that there is
at present going forward a double process of dissolution
and reconstruction, — the dissolution of individualism ■with
a constructive tendency towards collectivism. Prom tho
socialist point of view the following may be signalized as
indicative of such a process. (1) The tendency towards
economic anarchy already explained in treating of Marx's
views. Over the whole industrial world we see great
crises succeeding each other, resulting in stagnation and
depression which now threaten to be chronic and permanent.
While the productive forces of the world are enormously
increasing, they only tend the more to intensify national
and international competition, and to render labour super-
fluous, precarious, and dependent. Under this system tha
worker has neither freedom nor security. All this variety
of symptoms are only a sign of the break-down of tho
present economic order both in principle and method.
They are the necessary results of the competitive system,
which has thus finally revealed its real nature and tendency,
^economic and social anarchy. (2) The constant and inevi-
table tendency towards concentration in industrial opera-
tions, which began with the introduction of steam and of
the factory system, through which the small producer hajs
been superseded by the capitalist, the smaller capitalist by
the larger. And now the single capitalist is being absprbed
in the company, a growing proportion of the world's busi-
ness being so large that only a great company can providft
the requisite capital and organization ; whilst in the large
companies there is a tendency, in case they cannot drive
each other out of the field, to bring about a fusion of
interests. In all this we see a great constructive process
inevitably going on as the result of the inherent tendencies
of industrial development. Thus the control .of industry
will be concentrated in a few colossal companies and their
chiefs. It is obvious how this process could simplify the
transference of the whole to a collective management by
society. (3) This leads us to a third important point, the
growing tendency towards state control of industry, and
the growing sense of the responsibility of society for all
its members, observable in German politics, not less than
under the more democratic conditions of France and Eng-
land. It is apparent how under this influence the existing
state might absorb one by one all the large social functions,
as has already happened with regard to education, means
of communication, &c. Naturally this could be accom-
plished only through a most comprehensive development
of local and subordinate bodies of every kind. Socialism
by no means implies that such an enormous burden of
' See his Autobiography ; also his PoL Ecbnoviy, chapter on tha
prohable future of the labouring classes.
» Bau und Leben, vol. ii. 120.
S 0 c — s o c
221
work should be thrown on the central government. Most
socialist schools have contemplated a vast increase of com-
munal or local autonomy, — a course which, on the other
hand, does not carry with "it the subversion of the central
government. (4) In England during the last half century
we have seen a long succession of efforts, partially success-
ful, towards a new organization of society rendered neces-
sary by the changes due to the industrial revolution. In
economics as in other spheres the watchword of the new
era has been freedom, the removal of restraint. But it
has been found that positive measures of reconstruction
were also necessary. Factory legislation carried in oppo-
sition to the prevailing economic theory, trades unions,
employers' combinations, industrial partnerships, boards of
conciliation, the co-operative system, — all these are real, if
partial, endeavours towards a new organization of society
suited to the new conditions. Socialism claims to be the
comprehensive scheme of organization which embraces in
a complete and consistent unity all these partial efforts.
(5) But the great social force which is destined to work
out the vast transformation consists of the human beings
most directly interested in the colossal struggle, — the modern
democracy. This democracy is marked by a combination
of characteristics which are new to history. It is being
educated and enlightened in the school and by the cheap
press ; it is being drilled and organized in large factories,
in the national armies, by vast popular demonstrations, in
the gigantic electoral struggles of the time. Thus it is
becoming conscious of its enormous power, and able to
make use of it. It is becoming conscious also of its unsatis-
factory social and economic position. The democracy
which has become the master-force of the civilized world
are economically a mass of proletarians dependent on pre-
carious wage-labour. Having transformed the political
condition of things, they are ready now for an economic
transformation. But, the inevitable process of concentra-
tion of industrial operations already referred to is entirely
against the continuance or restoration of the small producer,
whether workman or peasant proprietor. Such efforts of
continuance or restoration are reactionary; they are econo-
mically unsound and must fail. Production and distribu-
tion ever tend to larger dimensions. The only bsue out
of the present economic condition is concentrated collect-
ive industry under the control of the new democracy and
its chosen leaders. On the irresistible momentum of
these two inevitable and ever-growing forces — the concen-
tration of industry and the growth of the new democracy —
socialism depends for the realization of its scheme of trans-
formation.
Such are the tendencies to which philosophic socialists
point as already working towards a transformation of
society of the kind they expect. It is essentially a
question of the future, with which we have no concern
in this article. Our duty has simply been to point out
the forces which socialists believe to be actually at work
for the realization of their theory of social organization ;
and here we must leave the subject.
Literature. — The literature of socialism is enormous and rapidly
growing ; besides those named under the special articles we now
give a list of some of the leading works which are in whole or in
part devoted to it : — Karl Marx, Das Kapilal {\st vol., 3d ed., Ham-
burg, 1883 ; 2d vol., 1st ed., Hamburg, 1885) ; Friedrich Engels,
Eugen Diihring's Umwakung der Wissenschaft, a controversial work,
but containing a remarkably clear and able exposition of the JIarx
position by its best living exponent (2d ed., Hottingen-Zurich,1886);
Albert Schaffle, Bau und Leben dcs socialen Korpers (Tiibingen, 1878 ;
the third vol. of this work supersedes his Kapilulismxis und Social-
ismus, Tubingen, 1870), Quintesse^iz dcs Socialismus {7th cd., Gotha,
1879) ; Adolf Held, Sozialismus, Soiial -Dcmokratie, und Sozial-
Polilik (Leipsic, 1878) ; Von Sybel, Die Lchren dcs heutigen Social-
ismus und Communismus (Bonn, 1872) ; Lujo Brentano, Die ckrist-
lich-soziale Bewegung in England (Leipsic, 1883) ; Von Scheel, Die
Theorie der sozialen Frage (Jena, 1871) ; Alphons Thun, Geschichte
der revolutionaren Bewegungcn in Russland (Leipsic, 1883); liudolf
Meyer, Der Emancipations -kampf des vicrtcn Standes (2d ed. , Berlin,
1882); Franz Mehring, Die Deutsche Socialdemokratie, Hire Geschichte
und ihre Lehre (Bremen, 1879) ; Laveleye; Le Socialisme Contem-
porain (2d ed., Paris, 1883) ; Paul Janet, Dcs Origines du Socialisme
Contemporain (Paris, 1883) ; Paul Leroy-Beaulieu, Le CollecCivismc
(Paris, 1884) ; Le Precis des Anarchisles (Lyons, 1883) ; John Rae,
Contemporary Socialism (London, 1884); Stepniak, Underground
Russia (Loudon, 1883) ; tiyaAmari, Historical Basis of Socialisjn. in
England (London, 1884). See also the relative chapters in Roscher's
Grundlagen der Nationalokonomie ; Adolf Wagner's Lehrbuch der
politischen Oekonomie (vo\. i., Grundlegung, 2d cd., Leipsic, 1879) ;
iiliWs Political Economy and Autobiography ; and Sidgwick's Prin-
ciples of Political Economy. (T. K. )
SOCIETIES. Under Academy will be found an ac-
count of the various bodies of which that word forms part
of the titles, usually denoting some kind of state support
or patronage. The present article is restricted to scien-
tific, archaeological, and literary societies, chiefly those
founded and carried on by private collective effort. Cer-
tain academies omitted in the previous article are, how-
ever, referred to. Governmental, collegiate, and univer-
sity institutions do not come within our scope, neither as
a rule do endowed societies, nor yet institutions which,
although they bear the name, carry on no kind of joint
literary or scientific work. With a few exceptions here
and there, the societies mentioned are still flourishing.
In their modern form learned and literary societies have
their origin in the Italian academies of the Renaissance ;
but private scientific societies have arisen chiefly during
the 19th century, being due to the necessity of increased
organization of knowledge and the desire among scholars
for a common ground to meet and compare results and
collect facts for futuro generalization. These bodies
rapidly tend to increase in number and to become more
and more specialized. Many efforts have been made from
time to time to tabulate and analyse the literature pub-
lished in their proceeding,?, as, for instance, in the indexes
of Reuss (1801-21) and the Royal Society (18G7-79) for
physics and natural science, and those of Walther (1845)
and Koner (1852-56) for history. A further development
of the work done by societies was made in 1822, when,
chiefly owing to Humboldt, the Gesellschafl deutscher
Naturforscher und Aerzte first met at Leipsic. This inau-
guration of the system of national congresses was followed
in 1831 by the British Association for the Advancement of
Science, which has served as the model for similar societies
in France, America, and elsewhere. The merit of intro-
ducing the idea of migratory congresses into France is
due to the distinguished archaeologist, M. Arcisse de Cau-
mont (1802-73), who established the Association N^onnande,
which since 1845 has held a reunion in one or other of
the towns of the province for the discussion of matters
relating to history, archaeology, science, and agriculture,
with local exhibitions. From the same initiation came
the Congres Archeologique de France (1834), which was
organized by the Societi Fran^aise pour la Conservation des
Monuments Historiques, the Congres Scientifique, which held
its first meeting at Caen in 1833 (directed by the InstiiuC
des Provinces), and the Congrh des Societcs Savanfes des
Dcpartements, which for many years after 1850 held its
annual sittings at Paris. The idea received the sanction
of ihe French Government in 1861, when a Congres
des Societcs Savanles wns first convoked at the Sorbonno
by the minister of pul)lic instruction. In Italy Charles
Bonaparte, prince of Canino, started an association with
like objects, which hold its first meeting at Pisa in 1830.
Russia has had an itinerant gathering of naturalists sine*
222
SOCIETIES
18G7. International meetings are a natural growth Irom
congresses in which specialists oi one country or speech
lire alone represented. Two remarkable examples' of
i,hese cosmopolitan societies are the Congres International
dArcliiologie et cV Anthropologie I'rekistoriqiies, founded
at Spezzia in 1865, and the Congres Iniernatiojial des
Orientaliztes (1873). Another step towards more com-
plete organization was taken when the Smithsonian Insti-
<u!!io», (Washington, U.S.) developed the admirable system
of international exchanges of its publications, as well as
cf other works and specimens, among societies and indi-
viduals. The Jnsiitiition has agents in every part of the
globe, and entertains relations with all the leading societies
in the world. The International Stientific Bureau, a pri-
vate enterprise, was established at Haarlem 'hy Dr Van
Baumhauer to facilitate the sending of parcels among so-
cieties and scientific menin Holland. Since 1875 the French
ministry of public instruction has organi2ed a distribution
of foreign publications among societies in France. In Eng-
land local scientific societies arc now officially represented
Sif the meetings of the British Association. In 1883 rules
were framed for the admission of corresponding societies
and for the institution of a conference of delegates to hold
sittings contemporaneously with the annual meeting of the
Association, for the purpose of discussing "propositions
hearing on the promotion of more systematic observation
and plans of operation, and of greater uniformity in the
mode of publishing results," as well as for the consideration
of "matters in which the co-operation of corresponding
^societies is desired." A committee was appointed in 1882
at the Montreal meeting of the. American Association for
the Advancement of Science " to confer with committees of
foreign associations for the advancement of science with
reference to an international convention of scientific associa-
tions;" and a fund for the purpose has been started.
It has been thought desirable to. classify the societies
treated of in the present article under the following head-
ings, the first of which includes those of the widest scope,
dealing with the whole range of natural history, or with
archaeology and literature as well as science : — I. science
generally; II. mathematics; III. astronomy; IV. physics;
V. chemistry; VI. geology, mineralogy, and palaeontology;
VII. meteorology ; VIII. microscopy ; IX. botany and
horticulture; X. zoology; XI. anthropology; XIL sociology
(embracing economic science, statistics,, law, and educa-
tion); XIII. medicine, surgery, &c.; XIV. engineering and
architecture ; XV. naval and military science ; XVI. agri-
culture and trades ; XVII. literature, archajology, and
history; XVIII. geography.
I. ScrENCE GEN'ERAXLT.
UinTED KTNGnoM. — Tirst in antiquity and dignity among English
societies comes the Koyal Society (j.i).) of London, which dates
from 1660. In 1683 William Molyneux, the author of The Case of
Ireland Stated, exerted himself to form a society in Dublin after
the pattern of that of London. In consequence of his efforts and
labours the Dublin Philosophical Society vr^s established in January
1684, with Sir 'William Petty as iirst president. The members
snbBequently acquired a botan ic garden, a laboratory, and a museum,
and placed themselves in communication with the Eoyal Society
of London. Their meetings after 1686 were few and irregular, and
came to an end at the commencement of hostilities between James
11. and William III. The society' was reorganized in 1693 at Trinity
'College, Dublin, where meetings took place durng several years.
gn 25th June 1731, chiefly owing to the exertions of Dr S. M.
adden, the Dubli7i Society far Improving Susbandry, Manufac-
tures, and other Useful Arts came into existence. In January 1737
they comnienced to publish the Dublin Society's Weekly Observa-
■tions, a.nd in 1746 the society was placed on the civil establishment,
with an allowance of £500 a year from the Government. A charter
of incorporation was granted in 1750, and seven years later the
Hoyal Dublin Society for the first time owned a house of its own,
and in the following year began the drawing schoW, which subse-
quently did 80 mnch for Irish art Between 1761 and 1767 Govern-
.nient ;graQts to the amount of £42,000 for promoting national
agriculture and manufactures were distributed by the Boclety.whicl"
claims to be the oldest scientific body in the United Kingdom after
the Royal Society of London. It has published Transactions (,1799-
1810); and its Proceedings {176i-16; 1848, &c.) and Journal {1853,
&c.) are still issued. For the Royal Irish Academy, see Academy.
The Itoyal Physical Society of Edinburgh was instituted in 1771,
and incorporated in 1788 ; it is exclusively devoted to natural his-
tory and the physical sciences. With it have been merged many
•other societies, such as the Chirurgo- Medical in 1796, the American
Physical in 1796, the Hibernia'n Medical in 1799, the Clicmical in
1803, the Kalural History in 1812 (which brought in Brougham and
JIackintosh), and the Didactic in 1813. It issues Proceedings (1858,
&c.). From the Philosophical Society of Zdinhvrgh (1739) was de-i
veloped the Royal Society of Edinburgh, wh.ise charter is dated 29th,
•March 1783. It was to comprise a physical and a literary class S
among the members of the latter were Robertson, Hume, Burke,'
and Reid, and among those of the former Hutton, Black, Playfair,
Dugald Stewart, and Watt. The literary division has been much
less productive than the other. A second charter was obtained in
1811. The society has published Transactions (4to, 1788, &c.) and
Proceedings (8vo, 1845, kc).
The Linncan Society for the promotion of zoology and botany
was founded in 1788 by Dr (afterwards Sir) J. E. Smith, in order
to supplement the work of the Royal Society, and obtained a royal
charter in 1802. The herbarium and collections of Linnaeus, with
the founder's additions, were purchased after his deatli. It re-
moved from Sir Joseph Banks's old house in Soho Square to Bur-
lington House (London) in 1857, and assumed the apartments it
now occupies in 1873. It has published Proceedings (1849, &c.).
The Journal (8vo, 1857, &c.) and the Transactions (4to, 1791, &c)
are divided into zoological and botanical sections. The Society for tin
Encouragement of Arts, Commerce, and Manufactures took its origin
in 1753 from an academy established in the Strand by the landscape
painter William Shipley. Attention was paid to the application
of science to practical purposes, a subject passed over by the Royal
Society. Exhibitions of pictures by native artists were held, and
the first exhibition of the Royal Academy took place in its rooms.
A fresh start in a new career was made by the Society of Arts in
1847, when it obtained a charter and the presidency of the Prince
Consort. The International Exhibition of 1851 sprang from the
smaller exhibitions previously held in its rooms. The East Indian
section dates from 1S69, the foreign and colonial and the chemical
sections from 1874. Its organs have been T, .insaetions (1783-1849)
and the i/barnaZ (1853, &c.). Sir Joseph Banks, Count Rumford,
and other fellows of the Royal Society started the Royal Institution
in 1799, when a site was pmchased in Albemarle Street for "an
establishment in London for diffusing the knowledge of useful
mechanical improvements," to " teach the application of science
to the useful purposes of life." The institution was incorporated
in the following year. One of the most important epochs in the
history of chemistry must be dated from the establishment of the
laboratory where Davy and Faraday pursued their investigations.
Belonging to the institution are foundations for professorships in
natural philosophy, chemistry, and physiology. Courses of lectures
on special subjects are given as well as discourses (once a week) of
a more general and literary character. Its Journal has been issued
since 1802. The London Institution was established on a similar basis
in 1805 and incorporated in 1807. The building in Finsbury Circus
was erected in 1819. The British Association for the Adiancemmt
of Science was instituted at York on 27th September 1831 in imita-
tion of the itinerant scientific parliament held in Germany sinco
1822 (already referred to), and arose from a. proposal by Sir D.
Brewster. A meeting is held annually in one of the chief provincial
towns of the United Kingdom. The object of the association is to
promote science, to direct general attention to scientific matters,
and to facilitate intercourse between scientific workers. Abstracts
of the proceedings and reports of committees are published in the
annual Report (1833, &e.). The Historical Society of Sctmei ^1841)
printed a couple of volumes ; and the Ray Society (1844), instituted
for the printing of original and scarce old works (38 vols, have
appeared) in zoology and botany, still flourishes. The Royal
Colonial Institute was founded in 1868 and incorporated in 1882.
It provides a place of meeting for gentlemen CQunected with the
colonies and British India, undertakes investigations into subjects
relating to the British empire, has established a museum and library,
and gives lectures in its new building in Korthumberland Avenue
(London). It has publisher; Proceedings since 1870. The Victoria
Institute, or Philosophical Society of Great Britain, 'was founded
in 1865 to form a connecting bond between men of science and
others engaged in investigating important questions of philosophy
and science, more especially those bearing upon the truths revealed
in Holy Scripture. Its organ is the Journal (1867, &c). TIm
Balloon Society of Great Britain (1880) is not restricted to aero-
nautics, hut deals with recent discoveries and inventions, and
science generally. The foundation in 1821 of the Society for the
Encoxiragement of the U.teful Arts in Scotland, now usually known
as theJioyal Scottish Society of Arts, for the promotion cf the useful
SOCIETIES
223
arts and sucli branches of science as bear upon thera was tluc to Sir
v. Brewster, Sir J. Mackintosh, and others ; it was incorporated
in 1841, and has published Trarisaclions since that year.
The leading provincial societies of Great Britain of a general character are as
follows. Abei-deen, iVar. Jlist. Soc. (1663), Trans.; Phil. Soe. (1S40). Alloa, Soc
c/ Kat. Jlist. aiuiArch. (1663), Froc. (1805, &c.). Ban£slitre S-'icld Club and Sc.
Hoc (13S0), Froc. Batb, Nat. Hist, and Antiq. Fieid Club (1860), Froc. (\S>;7,
&c). Bedfordskire Nat. Hist. Soc. (1S75), Trans. Belfast, Nat. Hist, and Fkil.
Soc. (1S21), Froc. (1S52, ic); Naiuialists' Field Club (ISO'S), Proc. (1S75, &c.).
Berwickshire Nalnralists' Club (1831), froc. (1S34, Ac.)- Biikenhcad. Lit. and
.Vc. Soc. (1857J. Birmingham, Nat. Hist, and Micr. Sec. (1858), Froc. (1809, Ac.) ;
Birminghavi and Midlaiid InstUute Sc. Soc. (1S70), Trans, of archo-ological sec-
tion (1S71, Lc); Phil. Soc. (1876), has a fund for promotion of original research,
Froc; Midland Uniono/Nat. Hist. Societies (in J~), Midland Naturalist. Bolton,
LU. and Phil. Soc. (1S71). Bradford, Phil. Soc. (1S05), with various local societies
affiliated to it. Brighton, Brighton and Sussex Nat. Hist. Soc. (1854), Ann. Jie-
i»or/5 (IS55, &c.). Bristol, Museum and Library (formed by the amalgamation
of the Institution 'for the Advancement of Sc, Lit., and the Fine Arts wiih the
Lit. Soc, founded 1772); Naturalists' Soc (1802), Froc (1806, &.C.). Burnley,
Lit. aad Sc. Ciub (1673), 7'rans. Burton-on-Trent, Nat. Hist, and Arch. Soc.
(1876). Cambridge, Phil. Soc. (1819 ; incorporated 1832), for the promotion of
pliiloBox^by and natural science, owns museum and library, Froc. (1805, &c.),
Trans. (1821, iic.X Cardiff, Naturalists' Soc (1807), Trans. Chester, Soc. of Nat.
Sc (1871), Proc. Cork, Roual Inst. (1807), library ; Cuvierian and Arch. Soc
(1886). Cornwall Roycd Inst., at Truro (181S), devoted to natural philosophy,
natural history, and antiquities, Journal (1804, Ac) ; Royal Polytechnic Soc^ at
Falmouth (1833 ; fuundeil by the daughters of R. W. For and others), for tlie
encouragement of science and the tine and industrial arts, Trans. (1635, kc).
Cumberland Assoc for the Advancement of Lit. and Sc (1870), provides a means
of union foi-.the local scientific societies of Cumberland and West lu ore laud,
Tj'ans. Derry Nat. Hist, and Phil. Soc. (1S70). Devonshire Assoc./or the Advance-
ment of Sc. (1662). Dorset Nat. Hist, and Antiq. Club (1875). Dimfricsshirc
and Galloway Sc, Nat. Hist., and Antiq. Soc. (1676), Trail*. Dundee, Natu-
ralist£' Soc (1873). Eastbourne, Nat, Hist. Soc (1867), Proc. (16G9, ic). East
<if Scotland Uxno7i of Naturalists' Societies (188-5), Trans, Ebbw Vale, Lit. and
Sc Inst. (1850), ou'ns laboratory. Elgin, Elgin and Morayshire Lit. and Sc Assoc.
(1836). Essex Field Club (1880), at Buckhurst Hill, Trans. Exeter, Naturalists'
Club and Arch. Assoc (1862X Glasgow, Phil. Soc (1S02), Proc (1844, iic.) ; Nat.
Hist. Soc (1S51), Proc (ISGS, &c.); Soc. of Field Naturalists (1672), Traits. (1872,
&c.). Gloucester, Lit. and Sc Assoc (1838). Greenock, Phil. Soc (1861). Hali-
fax, PhiL and Lit. Soc (1830), museum and library. Hereford, Woolhope lialu-
Tttlists' Field Club, Hei;fi>rd Pomona and Trans. (1866, fcc). Hertfordshire Nat.
Bist. Soc. and Field Club, formed in 1879 from the Watford Nat. Hist. Soc. (1875),
Trans. High Wycombe, Nat. Hist. Soc (1865), Magazine (ISGG, &c.). Hull, Lit.
and Phil. Soc (1822), Trans. (1S24, &c.). Inverness, Sc Soc and Field C/ui) (1875).
Isle of Wight Phil, and Sc Soc (1850). Kent (East) Nat. Hist. Soc, at Canter-
bury (1858). Trans. Leeds, Phil, and Lit. Soc (1820); Naturalists' Club (1870),
Trans. Leieester, Lit. and PhiL Soc (1837), Trans. Lewes, Lewes and East
Sussex Nat. Hist. Soc. (1864). Liverpool, Lit. and Phil. Soc. (1812 ; united with
Nat. Hist. Soc in 1844), Proc (1845, 5:c.); Phil omaOiic Soc (1825),Trans. ; Polytechnic
Soc. (1838), Journal (1838, &C.); Naturalists' Field Club (I860). Manchester, Lit.
and Phil. Soc (1781), two sections, one physical and mathematical, the other for
microscopy and natural history, — the original statements respecting the atomic
theory were given by Dalton in the Memoirs (1789, &c.) ; Field Naturalists' and
Arch. Soc (1860), Trans.; Scientific Students Assoc (1861). Montrose, Nat. Hist,
and Antiq. Soc. (1836), museum, Newbury, District Field Club (1870), Trans.
(1871, &c.). Kewcastle-on-Tyne, Lit. and Phil. Soc. (1793), library; Northum-
berland, Durham, and Neuraslle Nat. Hist. Soc. (1829), a museum (opened
in 1884), Trans. Norfolk, Norfolk and Norwich Naturalists' S"c. (1809), Trans.
(1870, ic). Nottingham, LU. and Phil. Soc. (1864). Orkney Antiq. and Nat. Hist.
Soc. (1837), museum. Oxford, Ashvwlcan Soc. (1S2S), promotes all branches of
Sractical knowledge. Paisley, J'ft'ii. /n5/tfufion.(180S), free library and museum ;
Ir Coats presented his observatory in 1882. Penzance, Nat. Hist, and Antiq.
Soc (1839), museum, Proc (1845, &c.). Perth, Lit. and Antiq. Soc (1784); Perth-
fikire Soc of Nat. Sc (18C7), Proc (1869, &c.), The Scottish Naturalist HttTO, &c.).
Plymouth, Plymouth Inst, and Deoonand Cornwall Nat. Hist. Soc (1812), museum,
art gallery, and library. Richmond, Richmond and North Riding Naturalists
Field Ciu6 (1863), rra>rs. Ripon, Naturalists' Club and Sc Assoc. (1882). Scar-
■faorough, Phil, and Arch. Soc (1831), museum and library. Severn Valley Natu-
ralists' Field Club, at Bridgenorth (1863). Shefneld, Lit. and Phil. Soc (1822).
Shetland Lit. and Sc Soc, at Lerwick (1801). Shropshire and North Wales Nat.
^ist. and Antiq. Soc (1835), at Shrewsbury. Somersetshire Arch, and Nat. Hist.
fioc, at Taunton (1849), Proc (18Jl; ix.). Southampton, Hartley Irtstitution
(founded under bequest of H. R. Hartley in 1859, incorporated 1S62), for the
promotion of scicntillc, antiquarian, and Oriental studies and the tino arU,
p^vns a museum and library. Staffordshire (-Vor(/t) Naturalists' Fidd Club and
Arch. Soc (founded as a natural hibtory society in 1805 ; enlarged 1877), holds
movable meetings. Stirling, Nat. Hist, and Ardi. Soc. (1878), Trans. Stock-
port, Soc of haturalists (lir84). Trans. Suffolk Jnst. of Arch, and Nat. HisL^
at Bury St Edmunds (1848), Proc. (1848, Ac), The East Anglian (1859, &c.).
Swansea, iic/i/ui /ns^ilulion. (founded 1835; incorporaied 1883), witli a museum
and library, promotes natural hi;itory and applied ecience, literature and tino
arts, local history and antiquities. Tamwoith, Nat. Hist., Geoloq., wnd Antiq.
Soc. (1671). Teiq If, Naturalists' Field Club (1858). Torquay, Nat. Hist. Soc (1844),
museum -ind library. Tweedside and Kelso Physical and Antiq. Soc (1834).
Warrington, Lit. and Phil. Soc (founded in 1870 upon tlio .l/icr. .Soc). Warwiek-
shire Nai. Hist, and Arch. Soc (1836), has a library and geolo;^ical mus':um ;
Warvjicl.sf- \ie Fieid Chib{lHS-i). Whitby, it(.aKdi'Ai^Soc.(1822), uwn ; a muhcum.
il'iltihi}e A)rh. and Nat. Hist. Soc, at Devizes (1853), Wiltshire Ma-juziM (16:-3.
&r.). Win-lsor, Wind.-;nr and Eton Sc Soc, Trans. Witnry, Nat. Huft. and
lit. Soc (1858). Yorkshire Phil. Soc (1822), the museum in the grounds of
St Ma-j's Abbey, York, contains a remarkable collection of Roman r.mniiis :
/Uto'og. itnd PoUitechnic Soc (1S37). quarterly meetings in vanoua Yorkshire
towns; Nidurali^t^ Union of the natural history and scicntitic societies of
t*ie connty (founded in 1861 ns the West Miding Consolidaied HaturalisU^ Soc. ;
icovganiTed in 1870), the Naturalist (1876, &c.)
JiLFnirA : Cape Tow-n, South Afr. Phil. Soc, Trans. (1878, &c.*) ; Mauntmn, Tioi/.
Snc. of Arts and Sc, Proc (l(i'\<i, Ac.) and TroTis. (1848, A:c.). Can-uwl'. Uulilux,
Nn,u Scot ian Inst., 7Voc. (1803, &c.; 1667, Ac). Ttlonir vu), Nut. Jl ist. Soc, Cann-
O'lon Naturalist (\B'j7, &C.). Ottawa, Lit. and Sc Soc Toronto, Canadian Imt.,
Canadian Journal(lS^2'70), Proc (\H79,&c.). Winnipeg, Hist.andScSot West
Indies: Kingston, Roy. Soc of Arts of Jamaica, 1 rarts. (1854 /kc). Port of
^•pain, Sc Assoc of Trinidad. Froc (1806, Ac). Australia nnd Nf;w Zcauku :
Adelaide, Phil. Soc, Trans. (1805, &.C.); South Austmlian Inst. (183ti), libmrv ;
I'oii.flocofS.Aiislrtdia. Auckl&nd. A-nckland I nut. Bviibnun.QwnUa ^d rhU.
Soc airiRtcburch, Phil. Inat. Hobart TVwn, /Jw/. Soc of Von Ihcmeiis Land,
rnpers (1S51, &c.); Roy. Soc of Tatmtnia, Monthly .Notices (ISCO, Ac). Wel-
Lonnic, Roy. Phil. Soc ^Victoria, Trovs. (1855, &c.) ; Nat. Hist. Soc', Zoolog. nnd
AccUnu Soc, Proc (1872). Sydney. Linnean Soc of N. S. W., Proc. (1870, Sic);
Phil Soc, Tra>is. (1802. &c.; 18r-<;, &c.); Boy. Soc o/ W. & IV.* Trans. (1807.
Ac). Welliugtou, New Zealand Inst., Trails, (1860, tcl.
United States.— The first scientific sopiety In the United States or!giiiat«d
from a Proposal for Promoting Useful Knowledge among the British Planlationt,
issued by Dr Franklin in 1743. In the following year the ^mfricapi Philo-
sophical Society wa.s founded at Fhiladelphifl. with Thomas Hopkinson as pre-
sident and Franklin as secretary. With it was united on 2d January 1769
anotlicr Philadelphia society. The Junto (1756), the records of which have been
preserved. The American Philosophical Society ib still in vigorous life, and is
an exclusively scientiQc body and the oldest oi-gauized society in the United
States for the pursuit of philosophical investigation in its broo'lest eense. It
publishes Transactions {Ato, 1771, fiic.)and Proc(edings(Svo, 1640, A:c.). AUboncb
not a society in the exact sense of the word, the Smithsonian Institution, the
most important scientific body in America, must not be overlooked. It was
founded at Washington by James Lewis Macie, afterasrds called Smithson,
a natural son of Hugh Suiithson, duke of Northumberland. He died in 182ft,
leaving by will a sum of money which in 1833 amounted to over half a million
dollar-8, "to found at Washington, under the name of the Smithsonian Institu-
tion, an establishment for the increase and diffusion of knowledge among men."
The institution was established by Act of Congress in 1838. The endow ment
has now been increased to half as much again as the onginal bequest. The
National Museum, founded in 1842, the nucleus of which was the natural history
collections brought home by the Wilkes and other exploring expeditions, vaa
given into the custody of the Smithsonian Institution iu 1858. It has since
been largely increased and is now particularly rich iu the ethnology, zoology,
and mineralogy of the United States.. The chief funetion of the institution is
to assist scientific research and to act as an organized centre for the exchange
of books and specimens with scientific bodies and individuals throughout the
whole world. The Annual Reports date from 1846 (6\o, 1847, &:c.), the Smith-
sonian Co7itributions to Knowledge (4to) from 1848, and the Miscellaneous Collec-
tions from 1856 (8vo, 1862, &c.). The Proceedings and Bulletin (1875, &c.) of the
National Museum are issued under the authority of the timithsoniaa Institu-
tion, as well as the publications of the Bureau of Ethnology and the Bulletin
of the Philosophical Society of Washington. Second in point of date comes the
American Academy of Arts and Sciences of Boston, incorporated in 1780 with the
object of furthering the study of the antiquities and natural history of the
country. Its Memoirs (4to, 1785, &c.) and Proceedings (8vo, 1848, ic.) are still
published. The Connecticut Academy of Arts and Sciences v/&s incorporated at
New Haven in 1799. At first only devoted to matters connected with the State
of Connecticut, it now embraces the whole field of the sciences and useful arts.
It has issued Memoirs (1810-16), and now publishes Transactions (1866, &c.)l
One of the leading societies iu the United States, the Academy of Natural
Sciences of Philadelphia, founded in 1812 and incorporated in 1817, possesses the
best natural history library (35,000 vols.) in the country and one of the largest
natural history museums in the world, being especially rich in conchology. It
issues a Journal (1817, &c.) and Proceedings (1843, &c.). The American Entomo-
logical Society is merged with it. The Franklin Institute of the same city, in-
coi-porated in 1824, possesses a library, gives lectures, and issues a Journal (1826,
&C.). The Boston Society of Natural Histoi-y was founded upon the Linnean
Society (1814) in 1830 and incorporated in 1831. It possesses a library and a
cabinet of specimens. It published the Boston Journal of Natural History (6vo,
1837-63), followed by iifemoirs (4to, 1866, &c.): Proceedings (1844, &c.) are also
issued. The Lyceum of Natural History, New York, was incorporated in 1817
and has published Aiinals from 1823 (1824, &c.) and Proceedings (1870, &c.). In
1876 the name was changed to New York Academy of Sciences. A number ot
American naturalists and geologists, having held meetings in various cities be-
tween 1840 and 1847, resolved themselves at their Boston congress in the latter
year into the American Association for the Advancement of Sciertce, which was
incorporated in 1874. Its object is " by periodical and migratory meetings to
promote intercourse between American scientists.' It has published Proot.t:Jinp»
(1849, &c.). The National Academy of Science w.as incorporated at Washingtou
in 1863 with a view to making the knowledge of specialists available for the
service of Government. There are two classes of members, those in mathe-
matics and physics and those in natural history. It has issued Annuals
(Cambridge, 1865, &.c.) and Reports, as well as Memoirs (1866, &c.). The Academies
of Sciences at San Francisco (1853), St Louis (1656, incorporated 1857), Chicago
(1857, incorporated 1865), and Davenport (1807) deserve special mention.
Among the remaining societies of a general scientific character are — Albany
Inst. (1828), Traill. (1830, &c.), Proc (1870, Ac). Ann Arbor, 5c. Assoc (U75).
Baltimore, Maryland Acad, of Sc. and Lit., Trans. (1837). BuQalo, Soc QfNaL
Sc (1861), Bulletin (1873, &c.). Charleston, Elliot Soc of Nat. Hist. (1853X
Froc (1855, &c.). Journal (4to, 1859, &c.). Cincinnati, Soc of Nat. Hist. (1870),
Proc. (1676, Ac). Cleveland, Acad, of Nat. Sc (1S52), Annals and iYoc.
Dubuque, Iowa Inst, of Sc. and Arts, Trans. Indianapolis, Acad. ofSc, Trans.
(1872, &c.). JIadison, Wisconsin Acad, of Sciences, Arts, and Letters (1870X
B^dleti^J. (IS70, &c.), Trans. (1872, &c.). Minneapolis, Minnesota Acad, of Nat.
Sc (1873), Bulletin. New Orleans, Acad, ofSc (1853), Proc Portland (MaineJ,
,Soc.o/Mi(.//is(. (1850), Proc. (1802, &c.). Poughkecpsie, Soc. o/Jtfa(. i"
Proc. (1874, &c.; a87G, kc). Rochester, Acad, of Nat. Sc (1S81). Sail
Essex County Nat. Hist. Soc (1633 ; now merged in the Essex Institute), ,
the American Naturalist (1807-68), afterwards issued by the Feabody Acad, of
Science, as well as Proc. (1850, &.a.) and Bulletin (1869, fi:c.). Topeka, Kansas
Acad. ofSc (1867), holds meetings in various cities. Trans. (1872, ice).
Vn/^CE.—'Xhe InstitiU de France {Ave Institutc ok Fij^nce), which includes
five separate academies, stands at the heatl of all French societies. The SocistS
PhilotKchniq-ue, founded in 1705 and recognised as of public usefulness by a de-
cree of nth May 1861, has for its olycct Uie encouragement and study of liU-rm-
tnrc, science, and the fine arts. Two i>ublic meetings are held annually. The
Annuaire (1840, &c.) is its literary organ. The Svcut^ d' Encouragement pour
Vlndustrie NatiorMic v:nn fomi'lc.d in 1801 for the amelioration of all brandies
of French industry, and was rccogniiied by the slate in 182'1. Prizes and medals
are offered. It publiBhea a Bulletin. Ilie Acadunic Nationale, Agricole, ManU'
facturit-re, ComTncrcioIe was founded by U\o due de Montmorency in 1(>30, and
also offers prizes and medals, and brings out a Bulletin (1830, &c.). The AssO'
cialiun Fmn^isc pour VAvanoi'mait ihs .Sctciiccs (1S71), founded tSn the model
of the British Associating, holds niignilory ni'H'tiiif'-i nnd publishes Convtes
Rendus. The acicntilio cojurreasea whose .•: t*. the initiation 01 M.
A. do Cauriioiit have been noliccl at Itie b , article.
The departmental societies are viu-y nun .e. The chief are the
following. Abbeville, Soc. d'I'CnutalUia (iTi'. ). -i/<"i. \i.i'7, ic). A«on, Soc
a'Agr.,Sc,vtArts(l7B4),Recu>-U(H^{}4,^c). Aix, ^Icni/. dtJ 5c., &C. (18^9), based
on Soc ties Amis de la Sc (1608), JVf, nu (1819, &c.). Alals. Soc Sc ct Litt. (Ih08),
Jixdl.hem, &c.). Amiens, Acad., based on Soc Lit/. (1^46), J/tHn, ^1835, ftc);
Soc Linn^enve (1838), Mim. (1806, &c.). AnK«'rH. .^\>o. A'<id. de Maine et Lotrs
(1857), JW^m, (1857, Aic.) : Soc dAgr., .fc. (Ibl8). M-m. (1831, &c.) ; Soc L. nix. ds
V. e( X. (1852), Annales (\'&^^, &c.). Angonlrme. Noc. d'-<i7r., &c., ''■■ '" ' '■■■-r.ts
(1803). Anntdts (1319, Ac). Annocy, Soc >7erimon(nii« (1851). '.
A;c.)and Ikv. Savoisirnna (1860, Mc). Af't, Soc. Litt., Sc, tt Art. i ■>
(1805, A:c). Arras, ^<-<i/f.(173><). Jl/f^m.(lHi8, *c.)(ind other public . ".
.Soc E<luentte aSAO), AJi^m. (lt>87, i^) and other publications. An . r:. . •'/•
Sc (1847). Bull. (1817. Ac.). Uar-lo-Duc, .S-^;. (tt., UttrsM, Ac. O^-*-'*. ^'- ■"■ ' " ' ^»
Ac). H^uvuis, Sot. AcAvL (1847), Miin. (1847, Ac). Resan^on. A'^'l- '■' ^-n
,fr. (I7i.i:: suppre.srtcd In 17it3; re-cstablianrd 180b). Siances putL(\sln>,^^^o.u
Hoc d'^m^daUm CWWX Hivu (1811. &&>.. BAricrt. Soc .4rc/L. Sb.». Aa CHWU
Ota Acad, o, Nat.
Portland (Maine),
fNaLHist.{\S7*h
). Salem (Mass.x
iitute), publishea
224
SOCIETIES
SUI. (1836, kc). - Blois, Soe. des Sa ft Lettres cte toir-et-Chtr 0832), ^fcm. (1833,
&c.). Bordeaux, Acad. (1712; suppressed 1793; re-established 181ti), Actes
(1839, &c.); Soc. ii?m. (1818), £ii!i. (1S26-29) and Actes (183«, &c.); Soc. des Sc
(1850), JlKm. (1855, An.). Boulogne, Soc. /(ciKi. (1863). .J/tm.(1864, &c.). Bourg,
Soc. d'&mulation (17S3), Cmiptes S. (1802-221 and Annnles (1868, &c.). Bourges,
Soc. Hist., <tc,, du Cher (1849), Mem. (1857, &c.). Caen, Acad. Nat. (1652), i«in.
(1764-60 and 1822, &c.); Soc. tinn. (1823), JVftm. (1824, &c.), and Bull. (1855, &c.).
Cambrai, Soc. tCiniiiltilioa (1804), Jlfm. (1808 &c.). Cannes, Soc. lies Sc. (1868),
Mem. (1869, &c.). Chamh^ry, .Aaui. (1819), JIHm. (1825, &c.). Ch4teaudun, Soc.
Dumise (1864), BiiH. (1864, 4c.). Cherbourg, Soc. Acad. (1755), Mim. (1833, &c.) ;
Soc. Hat. (1851), jl/cm. (1852, &c.). Clerracnt-Ferrand, Acad. (1747), >4!i note (1828,
&c.)and Mim. (1859, Ac). Dijoo, ^cad. (1740 ; suppressed 1793 ; re-established
1800), Mem. (1769, &c.). Douai, Soc. d'Agr., &c., dit Vep, du Nord (1799), Jlf^m.
(1826, &c.). Draguinan, Soc. d'£lti(ics Sc (1655), Bull. (1866, &c.). Dunkirk,
Soc. Dunkerquoise (1851), Mem. (1853, 4c.). Spinal, Soc. d'Emulaiion (1825),
Annates (1831, cic). Evreux, Soc. Lihre d'Agr., &c (1807), iiccucti (1830, &c.).
Grenoble, Acad. Ddphinate (1789), based on Soc. Utt. (1772), Bull. (1846, &c.).
taon, Soc. Acad. (1850), 2iii». (1852, ic). La Rochelle, ,4cad. (1733 ; suppressed
1791 ; reconstituted in 1803 as Lycie Kochelais and in 1853 under its former name),
Annales (1854, &c.). Le Havre, Soc. des Sc. et Arts (1868), £M. (1868, 6c.). Le
^ans, Soc. d'Agr. , &c. , dc ia Sarthe (founded in 1761 ; reorganized on several occa-
Bions, and finally in 1839), Bull. (1833, &c.). Le Puy, Soc. d'Agr., Sc, &.C. (1819),
Annales (1826, &.C.) and Bull. (1836, Slc). Lille, Soc. des Sc, &c. (founded 1802
as Soc. d' Amateurs), Mim. (1819, &c.). Limoges, Soc d'-4o''-. Sc, &c., de la Haute-
iVii;nne(1759), £KiI.(1822, ic). Lons-Ie-Saunier, Soc d'£miiWio7iduAra (1817),
Mim. (1818, &c.). Lyons, Acad. (1700), Mem. (1845, &c.) ; Soc. d'Agr., Hist. Nat.,
&c. (1761), Comples R. (1806, &c.) and Mim. (1838, Sic); Soc lirm. (1822), ylnnuJcs
(1836, &c.). M4con, ^cad. (1805), Comptes K. (1818-47) and Annales (1853, &c.).
Marseilles, Acad. (1726 ; in 1766 called Soc. des Sciences ; suppressed in 1793 ; re-
organized In 1799, and finally in 1802), Becueil (1727-86) and Mim. (1803, &c.).
Meaux, Soc Libre d'Agr., Sc, &c. (1798 ; reorganized in 1820), Publ. (1833, ic).
Mende, Soc d'Agr., &c., da Dip. de la Lozire (1819), Mim. (1827, cSic.) and Bull.
(1850, &c.). Montbeliard, Soc d'Sm. (1852). Mim. (1852, iic). llontpellier, ,4cad.
(founded in 1706 as Soc Royale ; suppressed in 1793 : finally reorganized in 1840),
Mim. (1816, &c.) : Soc d' Horticult., Sc, de I'Hirault (I860), Annales (1860, &c.).
Moulins, Soc d'lim. de I'Alher (1846), Mem. et Bull. (1850, &c.). Nancy, -4cad.
ie Stanislas (\1bO), jlKm. (1754, &c.); Soc. .ics Sc (1873), founded on Soc des Sc
Hat. de Strasbourg (1828), Mim. (1830, &c.) and Bull. (l866, &c.). Nantes, Soc
Acad, de la Loire Inf. (1843), founded in 1798 as Institut Dipartmenlol, Annales
(1830, &c.). Nevers, Soc. i.'iMrrcaise (1851), Bull. (1851, lie). Nice, Soc des Ictlrcs,
tc, des Alpes-Marit. (1861), Annales (1865, kc). Nimes, Acad, du Card (1632),
Mem. Niort, Soc de Statist. Sc, &c., des Deui-Sivres (1836), Mim. (1836, &c.) and
£ii!i. (1852, &c.). Orleans, Acad, de Sainte-Croix (1863), Lect. et Mim. (1865, &c) ;
Soc dUjr., Sc, &c. (1809), BuK. (1810-13). ^nn. (1818-37), and Mim. (1837, 4c.).
Pau, Soc des Sc, Lettres, 4c. (1841), Bull. (18(1, &c.). Perigueux, Socd'^jr.,
Sc, 4c., de la Dordogne (1820), jlnTmlcs (1840, 4c.). Perpignan, Soc Agr., &c., et
Litt. des Pyrinles-Or. (1833), Bull. (1834, 4c.). Poitiers. Soc d'Agr., Belles-Lettres,
&c. (1789), iuil. (1818, 4c.). Privas, Soc. dcJ! Sc Nat. et Hist. (1861X B>dL (1S61,
Ac). Rheims, j4cad. Nal. (1841), Srances (1844, 4c.). Rochefort, Soc d'Agr.,
BeUes-Letlres, &c. (1806), Travaux (1854, 4c.). Rodez, Soc. des Lettres, Sc, &c.,
de VAivgron (1836), Jl/cm. (1838, 4o.)and Prods-Verb. (1864, 4c.). Rouen, Acad.
(1744), Prt'cts yl»ia;y(. (1744, 4c.): Soc des Amis des Sc Nat. (1804),. ia,'?. (1865,
&c.). Saint-Brieuc, Soc d'im.. Bull, et Mim. (1861, 4c.). Saint-Etienne, Soc
d'Agr., &c., de ia Loire (1856), Bull. Saint-Jean d'Angily, Soc Hist, et Sc (1863),
Bull. (1803, &c.). Saint-Quentin, Soc. Acad. (1826), Mim. (1830, 4c.). Semur, Soc
des Sc i/is(. e( Nat. (1842), £uH. (1864, &c.). Soissons, Soc Arch., Hist., et Sc
(1846), Mim. (1847, &c.). Tarbes, Soc Acad, des Haulcs-Fyrinies (1853), Bull.
(1854, 4c). Toulon, Soc Acad, du Var (1811), Mim. (1832, &c.). Toulouse,
.dead, (founded in 1640 ; known to 1704 as Soc des Lantemistes and by other names
ito 1807, when present title was acquired). Hist, et Mim (1782-90) and Mim. (1827,
'&C.); Soc d'Hist. Nat. (1866), BuU. (1867, 4c); Soc des Sc (1872), Bull. (1872, 4c).
Tours, Soc d'Agr., 4c., d'Indre-et-Loire (founded in 1761 as Soc Roy. d'Agr.),
Secueil (1763 and 1803-10) and Annales (1821, 4c.). Troyes, Soc .^cad., based on
Soc .^cod. de VAubc (1801), Mim. (1801, 4c.). Valenciennes, Soc d'Agr., Sc, et
Arts (1831), Mim. (1833, 4c.; 1866, &c.) and Revue AgricoUiliii, 4c.) Vannes,
Soc Potymathigue du Morbihan, (1826), Comples R. (1827, &c) and Butt. (1867,
Ac). Vendfime, Soc. ^rc?i., Sc, et Litt. (1862), £u!!. (1862, 4c.). Verdun, Soc
Philomath. (1822), Mim. (1840). Versailles, Soc. <i'j4jr.e( des Arts (1799), Mim.
(1799-1864) and Bull. (1866,, 4c.); Soc des Sc Nat. et Med. (1832), Mim. (1835,
&c). Vesoul, Soc d'Agr., 4c., de la Haute-Sa6ne (1801 ; reorganized in 1819 and
1832), Hecueii ^jroiiom. (1836, 4c), Mim- (1859, 4c), and BuU. flS69, &c).
Vitry-le-Fi-angois, Soc d£s Sc et Arts (1861), Bull. (lS67, 4c.)^
Germany and Austria-Hungary : Agraiu, Jugo-slavensJxt Akademija or
Sjuth Slav. Acad. (1866), various publications. Altenburg, Natur/orscK. Ges. d.
Osterlandes (1817). MittheiL Augsburg, Naturforsch. Ver. (1846), Ber. (1848, 4c.).
Bajbberg, Naturforsch. Ges. (1834). Ber. (1862, &c.). Berlin, Ges. naturf. Freunde
(1773), Sitzungsber. (1862, &c.). Blankenburg, Naturwiss. Ver. des Harzes (1831),
Ber. (1841, 4c). Bonn, Naturh. • Verein (1843), Verhandl. (1844, &c); Gbrres
Ges. (1870), Hist. JaftrtiicA. (1880, ^c); NieOnrrhein. Ges. (1818; reorganized
1839). Bremen. Naturwiss. Ver. (1864), AbhandL (1868, 4c.). Breslau, Schlcs.
Ges. f. vaterl. Kultur (1803), Jahresber. (1804, 4c.). Brunn, K. k. Mdhr.-Schles.
Ues., Mittheil. (1821, 4c.). Cassel, Ver. /. Naturkunde, Jahresber. (1837, &c.).
Colmar, Soc. d'Hist. Nat. (1859), Bull. (1860, 4c.). Cracow, Towarsystwo Naukowe,
afterwards Akademija ' UmiejetnosH or .,4cad. of Science, many publications.
Dantzic, itfa(ur/orsc/i. Ges., rersuche(1746-67) and ScAri/ien(1820, 4c): Bot.-Zoolog.
Ver. (1878). Donaueschingen, Ver. f. Gesch. u- Naturgesch. (1801), Schrifien.
Dresden, Naturwiss. Ges. Isis (1833), Sitzungsber. (1801, 4c.); Ges.f.Natur-u.
Beil-Kunde (1818), Jahresber. (1848, 4c.) ; Ges. f. Botanik u. Zoologie, Nunquam
Otiosus (1870, 4c.). Durkheim, Pollichia, Naturwiss. Ver., Jahresber. (1843, 4c.).
Elberfeld, Naturwiss. Ver., Jahresber, (1851, 4c.). Emden, Naturforsch. Ges.
(1814), Jahresber. (1837, &c). Frankfort, Seckenbergische naturforsch. Ges.,
^u^eum (1834-35) and AbhandL (1854, 4c.). Freiburg (in Baden), Naturforsch.
Ces. (1821), "Ber. (1858, 4c.). Fulda, Ver. f. Naturkunde (1865), Ber. (1870, &c.).
Giessen, Oberhess. Ges. f. Natur- und Heit-Kunde, Ber. (1847, &C.). Gorlitz, Oiicr.
Utusitscr Ges. d. Wiss. (1779), Magazin ; Naturforsch. Ges., AbhandL (1827, 4c.).
Gorz. Soc. Imp. Reale, Mem. Gottingen, K. Ges. d. IVissensch., Ameiger (1739,
tc.\ ibhandL (1845, 4c.), and Nachr. (1845, 4c). Gratz, Naturwiss. Ver.,
Mittheil. (1803, &c). Or«if8W&ld, Naturwiss. Ver. von Neu-Vorpommern, Mittheil.
(1869, 4c.). Halle, Naturf Ges. (1779), AbhandL (1863, 4c.); Naturwiss. Ver.,
Zeitschrifl (ISM, tic). Hamburg, Nafurioiss. Ker.,^MaiidI. (1846, 4c.). Hanau,
IVetttrauische Ges. (1808), Jahresber. (1852, 4c.). Heidelberg, Naturhist.-Med.
Ver., Verhandl. (1857, 4c.). Hermannstadt, Siebenbiirgisch. med. Ver.f. Natur-
wiss., Verhandl. (1819, 4c.). Innsbruck, Ferdinandeum, Beitrdge (1825-34) and
Nme Zeitschrift (1835, 4c.). Jena, K. Leopold.-Carol. Akad., Athcnseum (l875,
4c.) ; K. Leopold.-Carol. D. Akad. d. Naturf, Leopoldina (1859, 4c.) ; Med.-natur-
Klaa- Gml, Jtn. ZtUadlr^ O^M. *«-)• Karlsruhe, Naturwiss. Ver., Verhandl.
(1864, &c). Klausenburg, Siebenbiirg. Museum, Annalen. Leipsic, K. Sachs.
pea. d. Wiss., Ber. (1846, 4c.)and Abhayidl (1850, 4c.). Lemberg, Ges. v. Galizien,
Ber. Liineburg, Xa(wriyi5S. (''er. , Ju:?iresber. (1852, 4c.). 'b'id-gd.QhMrg, Naturwiss.
Ver., AbhandlA.\im, kc). Mainz, ii/ieiil. nalur/or.<!cft. Ccs. (1834). Mannheim,
Ver. /. Naturk., Jahresber. (1834, 4c.). Marburg, Ges. f. d. Gesch. Tiaturwiss.,
gchrifitx (1823, 4c.} and Sitzungsber. (1866, &c.i. Meissen, K<r. /. Erdk. Jsis
(1845). Mctz, Aead., based on Soc des Lettres, &«. (1819), Afe)n.-(18!8, kt."); Sot,
d'Hist. Nat., Mem. (l843) and Bull. (1844, 4c.). Nuremberg, Nalurhist. Ces.
(1801), AbhandL (1852, 4c.) ; German, Museum, Jahresber. (1854, 4c.) and Anzeig.
(1853, &c.). Pesth, Magyar Tudomdnyos Akademia or Hung. Acad, of Sciences
many publications; Kirdlyri Magyar Termiszett. Tdrsatat or R. Hung. Soc of
Nat. Sciences, many publications. Prague, K. Bohm. Ges., Abhandl. (1785, &c.)
and Sitzungsber. (1859, 4c.) ; Naturhist. Ver. Lotos, Lotos (1851, 4c.). Pressburg,
Ver.f. Naturk., Verhandl (1856, 4c). Ratlsbon, Zoolog.-mineralog. Ver. (1846,
since 1883 called Naturwiss. Ver.), AbhandL (1849, 4c.). Reichenbach (Voigtland,
Saxony), Ver. f. Naturk. (1866), MittheiL Roveredo, Imp. Acrad. (1750), AM
(1826, 4c). Strasburg. Soc des Sc ^jr. et^rts (1802), Jlfem. (1811, 4c.)andBuii.
(1843,4c.). Stuttgart, Ver. f vaterl. Naturk. in'2'i), Jahresber. {ISiO.kc). Tholn,
Copernicus Ver. (1839). Trieste, Soc Adrtatica, BoU- Ulin, Ver. f. Mathem. u.
Naturwiss., Verhandl. Vienna, K. Akad. d. Wiss., Denkschriften.{\S50, &c.),
and Sitzungsbeir_r (1848, 4c.); K. Jr. Zoolog.-Bot. Ges., VerhandL (1851, 4c.);
Verein z. Verbi Naturwiss. Kentnisse, Schrifien (1862, 4c.). Wiesbaden, Nas-
sauischer Ver f. Naturk. (1829), Jahrbucher (1844, 4c.). Zweibrucken. Nalurhist,
Ver. (1863), Jahresber. (1864, &c.).
SwitzeKlan-d : Basel, Naturforsch. Ges., Ber, (1835, 4c.) and Verhandl. (1857,'
4c.) Bern, Naturforsch. Ges., MittheiL (1844, 4c.). Chur, Naturforsch. Ges.,
Jahresber. (1866, 4c.). Geneva, Soc de Phys. et d'Hist. Nat., Mem, (1821, 4c.);
Inst, des Sc, des Lettres, 4c., Mim. and BulL Lausanne, Soc Vaudoise des Sc.
Nat., BuU. (1842, 4c.). Neuchitel, Soc des Sc Nat., Mem. (1835, 4c) and
BulL (1844, &c.). St Gall, Naturwiss. Ges., Ber. (1860, 4c.). Solotburn,
Naturhist. Knntonal-Gcs., Jahresber. (1825, 4c.). Zurich, Naturforsch. Ges.,
Abhandl (1761-66), Mittheil (1840, &c), and Vierteljahrschr. (1856, 4c.); Allg.
Schweizer. Ges. f. d. Naturwiss,, VerhandL, Anzei^er, and Denkschr. (1829, 4c).
Italy: Conorcsso degli Scienxiati Italiani, ^/£i (1844-45) ; Riunione degli Sc.
Ital, Alii (1839-47 ; 1873, 4c.). Bologna, Accad. dclle Sc. deW Istit. di Bologna,
Rendic. (1833, 4c.), and Mem. (1860, 4c.). Brescia, j4ccad., afterwards Ateneo,
Comvienl (1808, &c.). Catania, Accad. Gioenia di Sc. Nat, Atti (1825, 4c.).
Florence, R. Museo di Fis. e Star. Nat., Annali (1808, 4c.). Lucca, R. Accad.'
Lucehese, Atti (\82\, &,c.). Messina, R. Accad. Peloritana. Milan, .4ccad. Fis.*
Med. Statist., Diario ed Alii (1846, 4c.); R. IsliL Lombardo, Mem. (1819, &e.),'
Giomate (1840, 4c.), Atti (1800, 4c.), and Rendic. (1804, 4c); Soc Ital. delle Sc.
Nal, Atti (1860, 4c.) and Mem. (1865, 4c.). Modena, R. Accad. di Sc, 4c., Jlle?n.
(1833, 4c) ; Soc Ital. delle Sc, Mem. (1782, 4c). Naples, R. Istit. dincoragg. alle
Sc. Nat., Atti (1811, 4c.). Padua, R. Accad. di Sc, Lett., ed Arti, Saggi (1786, 4c)
and iiecis(a (1851, &c.). Venice, R. Istit. Veneto di Sc, 4o., Atti (1841, &c.>
ana Mem. (1S43, 4c).
Belgium ; Brussels, Acad; Roy. aes Sc, des Lettres, et des Beaux Arts (founded
by Maria Theresa in 1772 ; reorganized in 1846), Mim. (1818, 4c.), BuU. (1832,
&c), and ^nnuaire (1835, 4c) ; Soc Roy. des Sc NaL et Mid. (1822), Jaum. de
Mid. (1843) and Journ. de Pharm. (1845, 4c.) ; Soc Roy. Linn. (1835), BuU. (1872,
4c.). Liege, Soc Roy. des Sc. (1835), Mim. (1843, 4c.). Mons, Soc. Prov. des
Sc, 4c., du Hainaut (1833), Mim. (1839, 4c.).
Holland : Amsterdam, K. Nederlandsch Jnstituut, Proc-'Verb. (1808, &c ),
Verluindel. (1812, 4c.), Tijdschrift (1847); Gcnootschap ter Beford. der Natuw-,
4c, Kunde, Maanblad (1807, 4c.) and Werken (1870, 4c.); Hollandsche Mailt-
schappij, Werken (ISIO, &c.) ; K. Akad. van Wetensch., Verslagen (1853, 4c.),
Verhandel (1864, 4c.), and Jaarhoek (1857, 4c.). Arnheim, Natuurkundig Gcnoot-
schap, Tijdschrift (1844, 4c.). Bois-le-Duc, Provinc. Genootschap, Handelingen
(1837, 4c). Groningen, Natuurk. Genootschap, Versl. (1862, 4c.). Haarlem,
Hollandsche Maatschupp,j*der Wetensch., Verhandel, (1754, 4c.). The Hague, K-
Zoolog--Batanisch Genootschap, Versl. (1804, 4c). Luxembourg, Soc dti Sc
Nat., Pubt. (1853, 4c.). tMiddelburg, Zeeuwsch Genootschap der Wetciisch., Ver-
handel (1169, 4c.) and .flroia'e/(1866, 4c.;. 'Jtrecht, Provinc. Genootschap van
Ki*ns[2n £71 Wetensch., Verhandel (1781, Vo.) and Aanteekeningcn (1845, 4c.).
Batavia : Bataviaasch Geli.ootsciap van Kunsten en Wetensch., Verhandel (1779,
4c.), Tijdschrift (1852, 4c.), and Notuhn (1804, 4c) ; Natuurk. Vereeniging in
Nederl Indie, Tijdschrift (1850, 4.;.) and Verhandel (1856, 4c).
Denmark : Copenhagen, K. Danskt'Videnskabernes Setskab, based on Sjoben,
havnske Scislab (1743-1813), Skrijter (1781, 4c) and 4/Aa7ldHllffeT (1824, &c) ;
Naturhist Forening, Meddelelser (1849, 4c.).
Sweden : Goltenburg, A'. Vetenskaps oeh Vitfir'htts SamkHlle, hanalinyar ll77»,
4c.). Stockholm, A'. Svenska Vetenskaps Akademi, Handlingar(\'40, 4c) and
Jrberattelser (1820, 4c). Upsala, A'. Vetenskaps Socieieten, Acta (1720, 4c.). '
Norway: Christiania, Fhysiographiske Forening, Mag. for Natur-Vidensk.
(1832, 4c); Vidimkabs-Selskabet, Forhandl. (1859, 4c.). Throndlyem, K. Norske
Vidensk.-Selskab, SkrifUr (1817, 4c.).
Spain : Madrid, R. Acad, de Cien. Exactas, Fis., y Nat., Mem. 0850, &c) ; Sot
Espaii. de Hist. Nat., Anates 0872, 4c.). San Fernando, R. Acad., Mem.
Russia : Siezd Russkikh Yestestvoispytately {Meeting of Russ. Naturalists), first
meeting at St Petersburg 1867-68, Trudy or Trans. (4to, 1868, 4c.). Dorpat,
Naturforsch. Ges., Sitzungsber. (l853,&c.)!indArchiv{\BH,tiC.);GelehrteEstnischt
Ges., Verhandl (1846, i'c), Schrifien (1803, 4c.), and Sitzungsber. (1806, 4c).
Helsingfors, Soc Scient. Fennica, Acta (1842, 4c.). Kaminietz, Naturforsch. Ges.
Kazan, Soc o/ Naturalists at University, Protakoly (1870, 4c) and Trudy (1872,
4c.). Kharkoff, Soc of Scientists at Univ., Trudy (WTO, 4c.) and Prolokoly (mO,
4c.). Kieff, Soc. of Naturalists, Zapiski. Moscow, Imp. Soc of the Friends vf
Nat. Hist., Anthrop., 4c., Izviestiya or BuU. (1865, 4c.); Soc Imp. des Natura-
listes, Mem. (4to, 1800) and Bull ("8vo, 1829, 4c.). Odessa, Soc of NaturalisU of
New Russia, Zapiski (1872, 4c.) and Protokoly (1874, 4c.). Riga, Naturforsch.-
Ver., Corr.-Blatt (1846, 4c.) and Arbeiten (1865, 4c.). St Petersburg, Soc of
Naturalists, Trudy (1870, 4c.). Warsaw, Soc of Friends ofSc, floccniJ:i (1802-28).
RouMANiA : Bucharest, Soc .4cad. Romdnd, AnnatiU (l867, 4c.).
Central and South America : Bogota, Soc. de Naturalistas Nco-GranadinoSt
Contribuciones (1860, 4c). Buenos Ayres, Soc Cientifica Argentina. Caracas,
Soc de Ciencias, Boletin (1668, 4c.). Cordova, Acad. Nacion., Bol (1874, 4c).
Guatemala, Instil Nac. Havana, Acad, de Cien., Anales (1864, 4c.). Mexico,
Soc Mix. deHisl Nal, La Naturaleza(lS69, 4c.). Eio de Janeiro, EttlestraCient.,
Archives (1858, &C.). Santiago, Soc. de Hist Nat,
II. Uatbekatics.
Many of the general scientific societies (see class I.) nave mathematical and
other special sections. Among defunct English societies may be mentioned
the Mathematical Society, which used to meet in Spitallields (1717-18451 and
possessed a library, and the Cambridge Analytical Society, which published
Memoirs (4to, 1813). The London Mathematical Society, Proc (1865, 4c.), and
ttaa Edinburgh Mathematical Society (iaS3); Proc. (1883, 4c.), are still floiB-ishing.
France: Paris, Soc Mathim. de f ranee 0872), Bull. 0873, 4c.). Germany:
Berlin, Mathem. Ver. der Univ. (1861), Ber. (1876, 4c). Cassel, Geometer-Ver,
(1S7S). Dresden, Ver. praktisch. Geometer (1854), Jahresber. (1861, 4c.). Essen,
Frldmesser-Ver. (1869). Frankfort, Phys. Ver. (1824). Gottingen, Mathemat- V»r.
(1868). Hamburg, Mathemat. Ges. (1690), Mittheil. Konigsberg, Ceome(er-rer.
(1872). Strasburg, Gemieter-Ver. (18fel). Stuttgart, Deutscher Geometer-Ver.^
Zeitschrift (1872, 4c.). Holland: . Amsterdam, Genootschap der Mathemat,
Wetensch. Kknstoefflnengen (17S2-SS), Mengelwerken (1793-1816), and j4rc^i</(1856,
4c.). Spain : Valladolid, R. Acad, de MaUmaticas (1803, 4c.), now dissolved.
Russia: Moscow, Mathemat. Soc, Japan: Mathemat. Soc of Tokio, Journal
fl878. &c).
« U J 1 E T 1 E S
225
III. ASTRONOMi.
Astronomical observatories and their publications have been already treated
»Tid enumerated in the article Observatory. The Jioyal A stTonomical Society
was founded in 1S20 under tlie title of Astronomical Society of London, and was
incorporated ou 7th March 1S31. It occupies rooms in Burlington House, and
has published Memoirs (1822, &c.) and Monthly Notices (1S31, &.C.). There are
also societies at Bristol (ISOO), ne}H)rts; Liverpool'^1881); and Leipsic, .^atrono-
*nticAc Ces. (IS03), Publ (1805, kc.) and yierte'jakrsschri/t (1866, &c.).
IV. Pnvsics.
The Physical Society of London was founded in 3874 and registered I'nder the
Companies Act ; it has published Proceedings (1874, &c.). The London Electrical
.Society (1S36), did useful work in its Transacliovs (1837-40, vol. i.) and Proceedings
(1S4I-43). Sir W. Siemens was one of the originators of the Society of Telegraph
Engineers and Eleclricifins, which was founded in 1871 and registered in 18S3.
It owns the Konalds library of electricity and magnetism and publishes a
Journal.
United States: Chicago, Amer. Elfctncfd Soc, Journ. (lS7b). New York,
National Tclegr. Union, Telegrapher (lS\ji-70)~ Fba.vce: Cambrai, Soc. Mag-
■nctique. Archives (1845). Paria, Soc. /-'ran;, de Phys. (recognized as of public
utility on 15th January ISSI), Bull. Germany: Berlin, Physikalische Ges. (1843),
Fortschritte der Physik (1847, &c.); Elektrotechnisch. Vcr. (1877), Ztschr. (1680,
&c.). Bre^Hn, Physikalischer Ver. Frankfort, Physikalischer Vcr., Jahresber.
Italy : Naples, R. Accad. delle Sc. Fis. e Matem., Jiendic. (1S6G, &c.) and Atti
(18C3). Rome, Soc. dcgll Spettroscopisti Ital. Holland : Rotterdam, Butaafsch.
Cenootschap van Proefondervindelijke iyijshegeertej Verhandcl, (1774, <J:c.).
V. Chemistry.
r Pharinacentical societies are placed in class xiii. (Medicine, &c.). The
Chemical Society of London for the promotion of chemistry and the sciences
immediately connected with it was instituted on 23d February 1841 ; a charter
of incorporation was obtained in 1848. It publishes Memoirs (1S43, <tc.)2nd
Quarterly Journal (1849, &c.)- Chemistry and its connexion with the arts,
and agricultural and technical matters, form the subjects of the Institute of
Chemistry, founded on 2d September 1377 and incorporated on 2d October 1877.
The Society of Chemical Industry (ISSl) is specially devoted to the branch of
chemical engineers. The .Society of Public Analysts publishes the Analyst (1876,
&c.). The oldest of the uumerous photographic societies is the Photographic
Society of Great Lrilain (1853), which issues & Journal. The Royal College of
Chemistry was founded in July 1845, and had a brief career; it published
Reports (1849). The Cavendish Society was instituted in 1846 for the publica-
tion and ti-anslation of works and papers on chemistry. It came to an end in
1872 after having issued 30 vols.
United States : New York, American CJiemical Soc. (1876), Proc. (1876) and
Journ. (1879, &c.). France: Paris, Soc. Cft.f»itqiie,Uu;(. (1858, &e.). Germany:
Berlin, Deutsche Chemische Ges. (1867), Her. (1868, &c.). Frankfort, Chem. Ges.
Jena, Chcm. Laborat. Wiirzburg, Chemische Ges. (1872). Bohemia : Prague,
Spolek Chcmiku Ceskyck or .Soc. of Bohemian, Chemists, Zpravy or Trans. (1872,
Ac). Russia: St Petersburg, Russ. Chem. and Phys. Soc. at Univ., Jouriial
(1869, &c.).
Vl. GEOLOOV, MlNERALOOV, AND PAL.CONTCL0OV. J
Among these the Geological Society of London, founded in 1807 and incorporated
in 1826, is the largest and most important ; it has published Proceedings (1834-
46), rrnnsac(tons (1811, &c.),iind a Quarterly Journal (ISib, &c.). The Geologists'
Association was instituted in 1858, and issues Proceedings (1859, ic.)- The
Mineralogical Society (1^76) has united with it the Crystallogical Society; it issues
the Mineralogical Magazine (1876, &c.). The Paleeontographical Society was
founded in 1847 for the delineation and description of British fossils ; it issues
Publications (39 vols. 4to, 18^7, &c.). The Cornwall Royal Geological Society (\S\4)
devotes special attention to the mining interests of the county, and publishes
Tran5fic(io)i5(1818, &c.). It holds its meetings at Penzance. In Scotland there
&re the Geological Society of Edinburgh (\$3i), which has rraiisnc(ions(187o, Ac),
and the Glasgow Geological Society (1858), which also has Transactions (18'jO,
&c.). The Royal Geological Society of Ireland i\SZ2) is chiefly directed to the
geology of the country. It publishes a Journal (1837, &c.). There are also
the Geological Associations of Leeds (1874) and Liverpool (ISSO), Trans., the
Socferi«o"fLiverpool (1859), Proc, Manchester (1838), Trans., and Norwich (1864),
Proc, and the Yorkshire Geological and Technological Society, Proc. (1839, &c.)-
I United States : Louisville, Ky., Ohio Falls Geolog. Soc. Sau Francisco,
California State Geolog. Soc. (1876). France: Lille, Soc G6ol. du Nord (1870),
Annales (1874, &c.)- Havre, Soc. Geol. de Normandie, Bull. (1873, &c.). I'aris,
Soc Geol. de France (1830, recognized 1832), awards the Prix Viquesnel (£40)
every three years. Bull. (1830, &c.) and Mem. (1833, &c.) ; Soc Pranf. rfr Minir-
alogie (recognized 1886), formerly Soc Mineral, de France, Bull. Saint-Etienne,
Soc.d'Ind. Minirale (\Sb5), Bull. (1855, &c.). Germany and Austria-Hungary:
Berlin, Deutsche Geol. Ges. (1848), Ztschr. (1849, &c.). Brilnn, IVernerscher Geol.
Ver., Jahresber. Darmstadt, Mittclrhcinischer Geol. Ver. (1851), Mittheil (1855,
&c.). Dresden, Gebirgs-Ver. (1855). Pesth, Geol. Ver. /. Ungarn. Switzerland :
Schweizerische Geol. Ges. (1882), section of Allg. Schw. Ges. Znrich, Schwciz.
Paliiontol. Ges. (1874), Abhandl. (1875, &c.). Italy: Soc Geol. Ital, founded at
the second International Geological Congress. Belgium : Antwerp, Soc.
Paliontol. (1857), Bull. Charleroi, Soc Paleontol. (1863), Documents et Rapports
(1866, &c.). Liege, Soc. Geol. de Belgigne, Annales (\S7 4, Ac.)- Sweden: Stock-
holm, Geologiska Forening, Forhandlingar (1872, &c.). Russia : St Petersburg,
Imp. Russian Mineralog. Soc, Trans. (1830, &c.). Aroentine Republic: Buenos
AyreSf Soc Paleontol.
VII. MDTEoaoLOoy.
, vThe International Meteorological Congress first mot at Vienna in ,1873. Tho
'Jloyai AWcoro/offfca! Society (1850) of London was incorporated In 1866; itsorgan
is Quarterly Journal (ISli, &c). To this must be added tho British Rain/all
Society and the Scottish Meteorological Society, which holds its meetings at Edin-
burgh and issues a Journal (\^60, &c.). Port Louis (Mauritius), Metcorolog. Soc,
Trans, (1853, Ac). Paris, Soc MiUorolog. de France, Annuaire (1849, &c.)and
\ Nouvelles Mitiorolog. (1868, &c.)- Hamburg, Deutsche Meteorolog. Ges. (1883),
' Ztschr. Magdeburg, Ver. f. landwirthsch. Weiterkunde (18S1). Moisrteu,
GeseUsch. Isis. Vieuna, Oestcrreich. Ges. f. MettoroL, Zcitschrift (1860, &c.).
Modcna, Soc Meteorolog. Ital.
VIII. MlCROSCOPT.
The Poya! Microscopical Society (1839, Incorporated 1806), with Tror.sactions
(1842-68) and Journai (1869, &c.); the Quckett Microscopical Club (\8iib), with a
Journal (1868, &.C.); and the Postal J^/icroscopicSocic/i/(l873), also with a Journal,
are located in London. There are suburban societies at Ealing (1877), Hackney
(1877), Highbury (1878). South London (1871), and Sydenham (1S71). Amongst
those in tlie provinces may be mentioned tho ones at Bath (1859), Hirmtngharii
(1880). Bolton (1877), Bradford (1-S82), nristol (1343). Caillsli:, Chichi'ster ('/Vans.),
Croydon (1870. Trans.), Dublin (1840), East Kent (1858), Liverpool (]hw, 7'rnnj.),
Manchester (1880), New Cross (1872), and ahelBcia (1877). In the United SUtca
ihe State Microscop. iiOCC^flUiwiis puhllahcaiho Lens (\Z72, &c.): BulTalo. ^m«r.
Soc o/Jlficro5co/;is?s; N'e\f York, Microscop. Soc. Brussels, .'^oc. Beige de ificro-
«cop. (1875), Proc-Kfrft. (1875, &c.) and Annales (\B7Q. 6ic.). Berlin, Om./ Mikro-
skop. (1877), Ztschr. (1S78, &cX lianover, Ges. f Xlikroskop. (1879), Jahresber.
IX. Botany and Horticulture.
Linnsean societies, which usually deal with both zoology and botany, ar«
placed in the general class (No. 1.). The Congris International d' Horticulture
tlrst met at Brussels in 1864 and the Congres International de Botanique at
Amsterdam iu 1865. The Royal Botaiiic Society of London (incorporated IS39) has
gardens in the inner circle of Regent's Park, and issues a Quarterly Record (1880,
&:c.). The Royal Horticultural Society (established in 1604, incorporated in 1800)
has gardens at Chiswick, and publishes a Journal (1846, &c.). The chief pro-
vincial societies are — Aberdeen, North ofScotl. Hortic. Assoc. (1879), Tran^. Ar-
broath, Ilorlic. Assoc. (18S0). Birmincham, Bot. and Hortic. Soc. (1830), gardens.
Dublin, Roy. Hortic. Soc. (1830). Edinburgh, Bot. Soc. (1836), Proc. (1837, &c.)and
Trans. (1844, &c.) ; Scottish Arboric. Soc. (IS54), Trans.; Cryptogamic Soc. ofScotl.
(1875). Ca.vada: KingitOD, BoL Soc. of Canada (ISCO), Annals (1861, Ac).
United States : Boston, Hortic. Soc. (1829). New York, Torrey Botanical Club,
Bull. (1S70, ic)- San Francisco, State Hortic. Soc. Fbance: Beauvats, Soc.
d'Hortic. ci de Bot. (1864), Bull. (1864, &c.). Bordeaux, Soc. d'Hortic. Chartres,
Soc. d'Hortic. et de Viticulture. Chauny, Soc de Pomologie. Dijon, Soc. d Hnrtic.
Fontcnay-Ie-Comte, Soc d'HMic. Lisieux, Soc d'Hortic. et de Bot. (1806), Bull.
(1366, &c.). Lyons, Soc d'Hortic. Pratique (1844), Bull. (1844, Ac); Soc. Bot.
(1872), An7ialesi\ST2,&.c.); Soc. Pomologiquc {IS72), Bidl. (^72, ic). Moulina,
Soc. d'Hortic, Nimes, Soc. d'Hortic. Niort, Soc. d'Hortic. Orleans, Soc d'Hortic.
(1839), Bull. (1841, &c.). Paris, Soc. Nat. d'Hortic. (1627; declared of public
utility 1852), Journal ; Soc Bot. de Frayice, Bull. (1854, &c.). Rouen, Soc. Centr.
d'Hortic. Saint Germain-en-Laye, Soc. d'Hortic. Senlis, Soc d'Hortic. Troyes,
Soc. d'Hortic. Versailles, Soc rf7/or(ic GERMANYandAusTRiA-HuNOARv; Berlin,
Bot. Ver. (1S59), Verhandl. (1S69, &c.) ; Deutsche Bot. Ges. (1SS2); Horticult. Ges.
Blankenburg, Bot. Ver. Bonn, Bot. Ver. (1818), Jahresber. (1837, &c.). Dresden,
Flora-Ges. /. Bot., Mittheil. (1841, &c.). Erfurt, Gartenbaii Ver. Frankfort,
GartenhauGes. Freiburg, Bo/. Ver. Gorlitz, Garfenbau Ver. Qoth&,Thuringer
Gartcnbau Ver. Klagenfurt, Kdrntiierische Gartenbau Ges. I^odshut, Bot. Ver.
(1864). Sleiningen, Ver.f. Povwlogieu. Gartenbau. Munich, Baierische Gartenbau
Ges. Ratisbon, K. Baierische Bot. Ges. (1790), Flora (1818, ^'c.) and Reiierlorium
(1S64, &c.). Reutlingen, Pomulog. Inst. Sondershausen, Bot. Ver. Stuttgart,
Gartenbau Ges., Flora. Vienna, K. k. Gartenbau Ges.; Botan. Ver., Verhandl. (ISbl,
Ac). Weimar, Ver. f. Blunistik. Wurzburg, Bot. hist., Arbeiten (1871, &c.).
Italy: Milan, Soc Cii^og. /(a^., ^«i (1878, &c.). Belgium; Federation des Soc.
d'Hortic. de Belgique (1860), Bull. Antwerp, Soc. Roy. d'Hortic. et d'Agr.; Soc.
Phytologique, Annales (1864, &c.). Bruges, .Soc d'Hortic. et de la Bot. Brussels,
Soc. Roy. de Bot. (1S62), Bull. (1862, &c.); Soc. Roy. de Flore; Soc. Centr. d' Arboric,
Annales. "Li^s^^Soc. Roy. d'Hortic. Holland: Leyden,A'cdeW. Bof.Kcrcen* Luxem-
bourg, Soc.de Bot., Recueil (1874, &c.). Nimeguen, Nederl. Bot. Vereen.. Archnf
(1S71, &c.). Demmabk: Copenhagen, Bot. Forening, Tidsskrifl (1SC6, &c.).
X. Zoology.
Societies dealing with natural history in general, or zoology and botany
together, are arranged under class i. The Zoological Society of London (founded
1826, incorporated 1S29) is famous for its collection of live animals in its
gardens at Regent's Park. It publishes Proceedings (8vo, 1830, &c.)and Tram-
actions (4to, 1835, &c.). The other metropolitan societies are — British Ornitho-
logists' Union (1859) ; Entomological Society of London (1833), Trans. (1834, &c.) ;
National Fish Culture Association (1S83). The Marine Biological Association of
Great Britain (18S4), for the study of marine food fishes and shell-fish, has a
laboratory at Plymouth. The Royal Zoological Society of Ireland (1831) has
gardens in tlie Phoenix Park. There is the British Beekeepers' Association
(1874). Australia and New Zealand : Auckland, .ficdimafisafion. Soc. Bris-
bane, Acclimat. Soc. Christchurch, j4cc;inia(. Soc Melbourne, Zoolog. and
Acclimat. Soc. of Victoria, Report (1861, &c.). Sydney, AuUmat. Soc. of N.S.
Wales, Jicporf (1862, &c.); Entomolog. Soc of N.S.W., Trans. (1863, &c.). Wel-
lington, Westland Nat. and Acclimat. Soc. Africa: Cape Town, Zoolog. Soc
Port Louis (Mauritius), Soc. d' Acclimat. Canada: Toronto, £11(07710/03. Soc;
Beekeepers' Assoc.
United States: Cambridge,, iVu((an Ornitholog. Club, Quart. Bull. (1876,
&c.); and Entomolog Club, Ptyche (1874, &c.). Cincinnati, Zoolog. Soc (1874),
RepoTtilQ75, kc). Illinois Central Beekeepers' Association. Philadelpnia, Zoolog.
Soc. (1873), Reixtrt (1874, &c.) ; and Amci: Entomolog. Soc, merged in the ^cad. ttf
Nat. Sc. Washington, Biolog. Soc. ; and Entomolog. Soc. France: Alais, Soc
St^ricicole, Bull. (1870, &c.). Amiens, Soc d'Apiculture, Bull. (1875, &c.). Cler-
mont, Soc CcJifr. d'Apicult., Bull. (1875, &c.). Lille, 7ns(. Zoolog. a IVimereux,
Travaux (1877, &c.)- Paris, Soc Nat. d'Acclimat. (1854), Bull. Mensxiel (1854,
&c.) and C/iro7t. Bimens. (1875, &c.); Soc Zoolog. de France, BulL (1876, &c.);
Soc. Entomolog. de France; and Soc. de Biologic, Comptes Rendus (1850. 4c.).
Germany and Austria-Hungary: Wandcrversammlung Deutscher Bienenzitchter,
Verhandl. (1856, &c.). Bendorf, Akklimat.-Vcr. Berlin, ^U/i77ia(.-rer. (1856),
Zeitschr. (1858, &.C.); Central-Inst. f. AkXlimat., Mittheil. (1859, &c.); Deutsche
Zoolog. Ges. ; Deutsche Ornithologen-Gcs. (U45), Ber. (1850, ic); Deutsehe PiacA-
erei Ver., Publikat. (1871, 4*.); Deutsche Entomolog. Ges. (1856), Entomolog.
Zeitschr. (1857, &c.) ; Ver. zum Bfford. des Scidenbaues, Jahresber. (1869, Ac);
Fhysiolog. Ges., Verhandl. (1877, &C.). Breslau, Physiolog. Inst., Studicn (1801,
&c.); Ver. f. Schles. Inscktenkunde, Zeitschr. (1847, &c.)- Brunswick, Deutache
Ornitholog. Ges. Carlsruhc, Badischer Vcr. f. Gejliigelzucht, Monatsblatt (1872,
Ac). Frankenberg, Bienenwirthschaftl. Haupt-Ver., Sachs. Bicnenfreund (1805,
&c.). Frankfort, Zoolog. Ges., Der Zoolog. Garten (1800, Ac); Deutsche Malako-
zoolog. Ges., Jahrbildi. (1874, Ac.) and Nachrichtsblatt (1809, Ac.)- Halbcrslndt,
Deutsche Ornitholog. Ges.; Halle, Oryiitholog. Central-Ver. Hamburg, Zo<ilog.
Ges., Ber. (18G2, Ac). Hanover, Bienenwirthschaftl. CentralVer., Cenlralhlittt
(1865, Ac). Leipsic, Sachs. Seidenbau Vtr., Zeitschr. (1868, Ac). Munich,
Entomolog. Ver.(lfi76); Fischerri Ver., Mittheil. (1870, Ac). Nordlingen, Ver.
Deutscher Bienenwirthc, B.-Zeiiung (1845, Ac). Ratisbon, Zoolog. -Mineralog.
Vcr. (see class i.). Stettin, Ornitholog. Ver. (1873), Jahrasber. (1873, Ac);
Entomolog. Ver. (1837), ICnt. Zeitung (I81O. Ac). Tricst, Zoolog. Inst. v. Zoolog.
Station, Arbeiten (IS7H, Ac). Troppau, Srhles. Bienenzucht-Ver. (1873). Vienna,
Entomolog. Vcr.; Embryolog. Inst.. ,fl/i/i/ici(. (1871, Ac); Ornitholog. Ver. Wurz-
burg, Zoolog.-Zootomisches Inst. (1872), Arbeiten (1874, Ac). Switzkmi ^^f• ■
Bern, Schweis. Entomolog. Ges. Geneva, Assoc, Zoolog. du Uman; Soc. t'
olog. Suisse (1805), Bull. (1866, Ac)- Italy : Casale, Soc. Pacologica, BnV *
Ac). Florence, Soc. Allantina Ital, Ixt SericicuUura (1805, Ac); Soc. 1
log. Ital., Butt. (1869, Ac). Naples, Zoolog. Station, ^fiHAei7, (1878). VaU r :
Soc di Acclima:., Atti (1801, Ac> Pisa, Soc Malacotog. Ital., Bull. 0^~\ '^ '
Rome, Soc. di Pisicolt. Ital. (1872). Bkloiuh : Antwerp, Soc Ray. df Zv-.' j '
Brussels, Soc Roy. dc Zoologie ; Soc Entomolog. dc Iklqiiiue (1855), Annulets uial
Bull. (1857, Ac); Soc Malucolog. (1863), Annales (1S63, Ac.) and rrocxsl'erb,
(lb72, Ac). Holland: Amsterdam, A'. Zoolog. Genootsehap " Satura Artis
Magistra, Jaarboekje {\S52, &.C.) auii Tijdschr. (1803, Ac). The Ilasuc, SfOrrl
Entomolog. Vereen., Tijitschr. (1857, Ac). Rottcnlam, Nnttrl. i)i<r\unil\>;4
Vereen,, Tljdschr. (1874, Ac). Norway : Bergen, Selskabrt for S ■< 'in fi'Urii r.
Sweden: Stockholm, EntomoUg. Forening, Russia: M ',>.•>•.
St. Petersburg, 7(uMian A'liroTTio/ojf. Soc AnorNTiNK Rrri -^yrf.
Soc. Zoolog. Argentina, Period, Zoolog. (1875, Ac); Soc. F'
XXIl. — z^
226
SOCIETIES
XI. A>"rHRoroL0OT.
The Congres International (T Anthropologic et (T Archeologit Prlkistoriques held
its first meeting at Neuchatel in 1SC6 ; it issues Conipfcs ^emius (1S66, fiic). The
AnthTOpological Institute of Great Britain ajid Ireland was founded in 1871
upon the Ethnological Society (18-13), which published a Journal (1848-56) and
Transactions (1859 -G9), and the Anthropological Society (1S63), which issued
Memoirs (1S63-G9) and the AnthTopologicallUvicw (lSQi-70). The Institute brings
out a Journal (1S71, &c.)-
United States: Ashtahula AntJiropolog. Soc. New York, Amer. Etfinowg.
Soe,, Trans. (1845-53) and Bull. (r860-61) ; Anthropolog. Inst., Joum. (1871, &c.).
■Washington, Anthropolog. Soc. France: Paris, Soc. cC Antkropologie (1859 ; re-
cognized 1S64),£«?^ and A/em. (1860, &c.); Soc. d' Ethnogr., AnnxidireiX^Q^, &c.)
and Jtevue (1669, &c.) ; Soc. des Traditions Popvlaires (1S86), Revue. Gersian-y
and AusTRiA-HuNOART : Berlin, Ges. /. Anthropologic, &c. (1869), Ztschr. (1870,
&c.)and Kerftn;!tZ/.(lS71, &c.)- Brunswick, Dciitsckc Gcs. f. Anihropologie, Archiv
(1870, &c.)and Corr.-Blatt. (1874, &c). Gdttingen, Anthropolog. Ver.^ Mittkeil.
(1874, &c.)- Leipsic, Ver.f. Anthropolog., Ber. (1871, &c.), afterwards joined to
the Ver. der Erdk. Munich, Ges. /. Anthropolog. (1870), Bcitr. (1S76, &c.).
Stuttgart, Anthropolog. Ges. Vienna, Anthropolog. Ges., Miltheit. (1870, &c.).
Italy: Florence, Soc. Ital. di Anlropologia, Arckivio (1S73, &c.). Sweden:
Stockholm, Antropologiska Sallskapct, Tidskr. (1S75, kc). Spain: Madrid,
Soc. Antropolog. Esp., Bevista (1875, &C.). Havana (Cuba), Soc Antropolog.
Russia : Imp. Soc /or Friends o/£csearch in Nat. Sc, Anthropology, &c.
XII. SociOLOOT (Economic Science, Statistics, Law Education).
The international societies are the Association IntematioTiale pour le Progrls
des Sciences Sociales and the Congres International de Statistique, which first met
at Brussels in 1S53. Both have issued Comptes Bendus. The Congres Intertiational
de Bienfaisance may be traced to a suggestion at the Congres Pcnitentiaire held
at Frankfort in 1847. The first meeting took place at Brussels in 1S50. The
National Association for the Promotion of Social Science (1857) had united with
it in lSt>4 the Society /or Promoting the Am£nd7nent o/theLaio. It holds a yearly
migratory ra,ectiDg, and publishes Transactions (1858, &c.)and Social Science
(1866, &C.). The Statistical Society (1S34), with a Journal (1839, &c.); Political
Economy Club (1S21) ; Cobden Club (1S66), for the diffusion of the political and
economical principles with which Cobden's name is associated, haviug various
publications; I nstitvte of Actuaries; Institute of Chartered Accountants (ISSO) ;
and the Institute of Bankers (1879) meet in London. There are also the Man-
chester Statist'ml Society (1833), with Transactions; the Jcluarial Society of
Edinburgh (1859) ; and the Social and Statistical Society of Ireland (1847), with a
Journal, at Dublin. After the Inns of Court (q.v.), the most irflportant of
English legal societies is th.Q Incorporated Law Society of the United Kingdom
(1827, incorporattd 1831) ; it began coui-ses of lectures for students in 1833, and
was appointed registrar of solicitors ten years later, and obtained supple-
mentary charters in 1845 and 1878 ; it has fifty provincial law societies in
association. The Vcntlam Society (1846) published a few books and came to
an end. The Sclden Society for the promotion of the study of the history of
law was established in 18S7. The headquarters of the Association, for the
Reform and Codification of the Law of Nations are in London, but conferences
are held in various Continental towns. The Institute of Patent Agents (incor-
porated 1882) issues Transactions. The Juridical Society of Edinburgh (1773)
has published five editions of a Complete System of Conveyancing. The Ascham
Society was founded in 1S79 for the improvement of educational methods;
and the Society /or the Development of the Science of Education (1875J issues
Transactions.
United States: Boston, Amer. Assoc.. for Promotion of Soc Sc; Amcr.
Btatist. Assoc, Collections (184T, &a). Kew York, Soc/or Polit. Education, Publ.
France; Grenoble, Soc de Statist. (1R3S), Bull. (1840, Ac). Marseilles, Soc de
Statist. (1827), Repertoire (1837, &c.). Paris, Soc Int. des Eludes Pratiques d'^con.
aS56, recognized 1869); La Ri/orme Soc; Soc. Fran, dc Statist. Univ. (1S39),
fotimal issued jointly with Acad. Nat. sine:' 1849 ; Soc de Statist, de Pnm (1860,
recognized 1869), Jo-urn. (1S60, &c.); Soc dcLenislation (^omparte tl&69 recognized
1873), Bull., Annuaire de Leg. Frang., and Ar.n. de Lig. Etran.; Soc. pourl'Instr.
Element. (1815, recognized 1831), Bull. 6t Maixent, Soc de Statist, des Deux-
Sevres. Germany; Berlin, Volksu-irUis. Ges. (1860), Volkswirths. Zei^retgen
(1879, Ac); Ver.f deutsche Volkswirths. 0S7G), Ztschr. (ISSO, kc.) ; Ver.f. Forde-
rungd.Ha'^elsfreiheit(lS7e), Mitlheil(\879t&c.); Ver. f. d. Statist.; Jurist. Ges.
(1859), Jahresber. (1663, &c.). Dresden, Statistischer Ver. (1S31), Mittheil Frank-
fort, Statistische Ges.; Jurislis'-he Ges. (1S66), Rundschau (18G7, ire). Laibach,
Jurist. Ges. Leipsic, Ver. f wiss. Padagogik, Jahrbuc^ and Mittheil. Belgium :
Brussels, Ligiie de I Enseignement 0864), Bull. ; Soc. Ccntr. des Instituti^urs Belrjes
(1860), Le Progrls. Holland: Amsterdam, Ver. voor de Statist, in Nederland,
Jaarboekje (1849, &c.) and Jaarcijfers (1882, &c.). Spain: Madrid, Junta Estadist.
EossiA ; ^osc.ov, Juridical Soc. St Petersburg, Peda^oTicaZ Soc Egypt: Caiiv,
Bureau Central de Statist. Japan: Toklo, Statist. Soc
XI I L Mkdictwe, Sttrgert, &c.
The first meeting ef the Congres Medical Intemaiional was held at Paris in
1867 ; ^.Bulletin has been issued anrfuaUy since 1S6S. The Proceedings of -the
British NatioTud Veterinary Congress date from i881. The Royal Colleges of
Physicians and of Surgeons of London, Edinburgh, and Dublin do not come
within our scope. The Medical Society of London (1773) is the oldest in the
metropolis; it has issued Memoirs (1787-1805), Transactions (18iO, &c.), and
Proceedings (1872, &c.). The other London societies include the Abemethian
Society (1795), which issues Proceedings ; British Dental Association (1879), with
a Journal (1880, &c.); British Gynecological Society (18S4); British Homccopathic
Association (1S59), with ^7inn?s (1^0, &:c.); Eriii£i Medical Association (1632),
which has more than forty home and colonial branches, and publishes Briti^
Medical Journal (1857, ice) ; Clinical Society (1867), with Transactions ; Dermato-
logical Society (ISS2) ; Epidemiological Society (1850), with Transactions (1S!jo, &c.) ;
Uahnemann PublishiTig Society (1852), Materia Medica (1852, &c.) ; Harveian
Society (1831) ; Homceopaihic Association (1845) ; B'lnterian Society (1819) ; New
Sydenham Society (1858), which publishes Biennial Retrospect (1867, &c.), and
translations and reprints of books and papers of value, succeeded the Old Syden-
ham Society (1844-57), which issued 40 vols. ; Obstetrical Society (1858), with Trans-
actions (1860, &c.); Odontological Society (1S5G), with TransactioTis (1858, &C.);
Ophthalmological Society (1S80); Parkes Museum (1876), founded in memory of
the ser\-ices of Dr. E. A. Parkes to sanitary science ; Pathological Society (1846)
Transactions ; Pharmaceutical Society (1841), with museum, which has a branch
Rt Eiinburgh, Pharmaceutical Journal (1S42, &c.); Physiological Association
(1876), Journ. of Physiology (1878, &c.); Royal Medical and Chimrgical Society
fl805 ; charter 1834), with library, and Transactio-ns (1809, &c.) and Proceedings
(1857, &c.) ; Sanitary iTistitiite (1876), the council of which appoint examiners ;
Society of Medical OJKcers of Health ('856), Transactions. The provincial societies
are very numerous and include— Birmingham, Midland Med. Soc. (1848). Dublin,
Acad, of Med. in Ireland (1882), Trans. (1883, &c.). Edinburgh, Roy. Med. Soc
a 737; charter 1778); Harveian Soc. (1752); Medico-Chirurg. Soc (1821), Trans.
824, &c.); and Obstetrical Soc. (1840). Glasgow, Medico-Chirurg. Soc (1866), based
upon Med. S(k. irad Med.-Chirurg. Soc (both 1814). Manchester, Med. Soc 0834).
Australia : Melbourne, Med. Soc of Victoria, Austr. Med. Journ. (1856, &c.).
Canada: Montreal, Unicn Mid. du Canada, Revue (1872. &c.); Cat^da Med.
Assoc, Trans. (1877, &c.). India: Bombay, Med. and Physical Soc, Trana,
(1838, &c.). Calcutta, Med. Soc, Trans. (1883, &c.).
Lnited States: Amer. Pub. Health Assoc, Reports (lS7i, &c.); Amer. Dtntal
Assoc, Trans. (1860, &c.) ; and Amer. Imt. of Homccop., Tratis. (1878, &c.). The
State medicalassociations include those of Alabama, Trans. (1869, &c.); Georgia,
Truns. (1873, Ac.) ; Maine, Trajis. (1853, &c.) ; Missouri, Trans. (1S51, ic.) ; and
South Carolina, Trans. The State medicai societies include those of Arkansas,
Trans. (1877, 6;c.); California, Traris. (1870, Aic); Illinois, Trans. (1851, &c);
Kansas, Trans. (1867, &c.) ; Michigan, Trans. (1869, &c); Minnesota, Tram,
(1S74, &c.); Nebraska, Trans. (1869, &c.); New Jersey, Trans. (1859, &c.);
Pennsylvania, Trans. (1851, &c.); Rhode Island, Trans. (1877, &c.); Texas,
Trans. (1874) ; and Wisconsin, Trans. (ISSO, kc). To these have to be added
the following town associations. Albany, Med. Soc, Trans. (1807, &c.). Balti-
more, Med. and Chirurg. Facidty of Maryland, Trans. (1856, &c.). Boston,
Amer. Gynxcolog. Soc, Trans. (1876, &c.); Mass. Medico-Legal Soc, Trans. (1878,
&c.). New York, Acad, of Med., Trans. 0847, &c.) and Bull (1860, &c.) ; Med.
Soc, Trans. (1815, &c.); Medico-Chirurg. Soc, Trans. 0878, &c.); Amer. Surg.
Assoc, TroTLS. (1S83, &c.); Medico-Legal Soc, Sayiitarian (1873, &c.); Ainer,
Ophthalmolog. Soc, Trans. (1805^ kc). Philadelphia, Amer. Med. Assoc, Trans.
(lS48,&c.); Med. Soc, Trans. (lS50,kc.); Obstet. Soc, Trans. {\B69,kc.); Amer.
Pharm. Assoc, Proc ; Patholog. Soc Richmond, Med. Soc, Trans. (1871* &c>.
France : Besan^on. Soc de Med. (1845), Bull. (1845, &c.). Bordeaux, Soc d«
Med. (1798), Journ. (1829; &c.); Soc. dc Pharm. (1834), Bidl. (1860, kc); Soc di
Med. et de Chirurg. Caen, Soc. de Med. (1799 ; knoim by its present name since
1875), Annee Med. 0S7G, kc). Chambery, Soc Med. 0846), Comptes Rend. (1648,
&c.) and Bull. (1859, kc). Grenoble, Soc de Med. et de Phat-m. Ha\Te, Boc de
Pharm. (1858), Mem. Lille, Soc Centr. de Med. (1345), BuU. (1846, kc). Lyons,
Soc Nat. de Med. (1789), Le Lyon MM. (1S69, &c.). Marseilles, S<x. de Med.
(1800), Comptes Rend. (lSiG-53) and Le Mars. Med. (\SC9, &c.) ; Soc. Mcd.-Chirurg.
(1872). Paris, Soc de Med. Pratique (ISOS), Bull. ; Acad. Nat. de Med. (1820) ; Soc
de Chirurg. (1843, reorganized 3859), Mem. (1847, kc.) and Bull. (1848, kc.) ; Soc
Anat.,Bidl. (1826, &c.); Soc Clinique, Bull. (1877, kc); Soc. Mid. desHopit. ux.
Bull. (1S49, kc): Soc Med. Legale; Soc de Pharm., Journ. (ISl^, kc); Soc da
Thcrapeutique ; Soc Fran, de Hygiene; Soc Centr. de Med. Viterinaire. Bouen,
Soc de Med. (1821), Union Med. (1861, kc); Soc Libre des Pharmaciens (1802),
Bull. Toulouse, Soc de Med. (1804), Bull and Revue 0867, kc). Tours, Soc
Mtd. 0801). Germany and Austeia-Hdngary: Deutscher AeTZtevereinshund
(1872), Verhandl. ; Central Ver. d. Zahndrzte (1S59), Mittheil. ; D. VeUnndrraUi
(1874); D. Apotheker-Vcr. (1820), Archiv (1822, kc). Berlin, Ver.f. HeilkunOt
(1S32), Maga::in (1635, &c.); Ges. f. Geburtshiilfe u. Gynaskologie (1876), Ztschr.
(1877, kc); Ges. f Heilkunde (1855) ; Berl. Med. Ges. O800), Verhandl. (1865, &c.) ;
Physiolog. Ges. (1860), Verhandl. OS77, &c.>; D. Ver.f Med. Statistik (1S66); Ver,
Eomoop. Acrzte (1871), Ztschr. (1SS2, &c.); D. Ges. /. Chirurgie (1^7^), Verhandl.
Bonn, Verband der Aerztl. Vereine (1865). Breslau, Ver. f. Physiolog. Heilkundi
(1848), Ztschr. 0850, &c.) ; Verbandd. Schles. Aerzte-X^cr. (1878). Cologne, Rhein^
Mcd.-Chiru rg. Ver. (1848), Organ (1852, &c.). Darmstadt, Aerztl. Kreisver. (1844),'
Dresden, Ges./. Natur-u. Heil-Kunde (ISIS), Jahresber. (IS4S, &c.). Erlangen,
Physik.-Med. Soc (ISOS), Sitzungsber. 0870, &c.), Frankfort, Aerztl. Ver. (1845),
Jahresber. (1857, kc). Hamburg, Aerztl. Ver. 0816). Hanover, Ver, Analyt,
C:?ieiniil:«r(lS78). Heidelberg, OpAtfcal. Ges. (1S57). Konigsberg, Ver. /. wiss. EeiU
kunde 0S51). Leipsic, Med. Ges. (1829); Ges. / Geburt sliul/e -(iB5i), MittheU.^
Hombop. Central-Ver. (1829). Magdeburg, D. Chirurqen-Vcr. (1844), ttschrl
(1847, kc). Munich, Aerztl. Ver. (1833), Int.-Blatt (1S54, &c.). Strasbnrg, Sac da
Med. 0842), Mem. OS50, kc); Soc Viterin. (1864). Stuttgart, Wiirtiemb. Aerztl:
Ver. (1831), Corr.-Blatt. (1832, &c.); Hahnemannia (1S6&), Mittheil. (1673, kc);
Apotheker-Ver. (1822), Pharvi. Wochenblatt (1861, Ac). Vienna, K. k. Ges. der
Aerzte, Ztschr. (1644, &c.). Weimar, Med.'Natwrwiss. Ver. (1863). Wurzburg,
Physikal.'Mcd. Ges. (1849), Verhandl. (1850, kc). ' Switzeblajo) : Geneva, Soo-
Med. Zurich, Soc dc Med. ; Schweiz. Apotheker-Ver, Itax.y: Bologna, Soc Jl/cdJ
Chirurg. Gcno&,Accad. Med. Chirurg. Milan, Soc Ital. d'Igiena. Modena, Soc,
Med.-Chirurg. Nf pies, Real. Accad. Med.-Chirurg. Rome, R. letiU Fi^ico-Pato*
logico. Turin, Acaid. Real. Med.-Chirurg. Belgium: Antwerp, Soc de Mid-^
(1839), Annales. Brussels, Acad, Roy. de Med. (1841), Bull. (1S41, kc) and Mc7»4
Soc Roy. de Pharm. (1856), BulU; Soc Anat. Patholog. (1857), Annales; SocJ
Beige. tU Med. Homceop. Ghent, Soc de Med. 0834), Annates. Liege, Soc Mid..
Chirurg. Holland: Amsterdam, Genootschap ter Bevordering der Geiues- ea
Eeel-Kunde, Verhandel. (1841, &c.); Nederl. Maatschappij ter Bevord. der Pharm
■made. 'B&ta.vih{38.\-a.),Ger.eeskxiiuiigtVerc£niging. Denmark: Copenhagen,^.
Med. Selskab; Veteritiaer Selskab. Korway: Christiania, Jfcd. S'^stafe. Sweden;
Stockholm, Farmaceutiska' Imst Spain anil Postdoal: Lisbon, Boc de ScJ
Med ; Soc Pharm. Lusltana. Russia: Dorpat, P?iann. Soc Moscow, P/iya.-
Mcd. Soc Riga, Soc o/ PraUical Physicians. St Petersburg, Soc o/ Practical
Physicians; Imp. Pharm. Soc Warsaw, Med.-Chi."urg. Soc Greece : Athens,
Soc. Med. Turkey : Constantinople, Soc Imp. de Mcd^; Soc de Pharm. Clntbai,
and South America: Buenos A)Tes, Asoc Med. Caracas, Escucla Med.
Gnadalajara (Mexico), Soc Med. Merida (Mexico), Soc Med. Mexico, Acad. d$
Med. ; Soc Med. Monte Video, Soc de Med. Santiago, Soc Med, Japan : Toki0
Soc/or Adv. o/Med. Sc. Trans. (1885, &c).
XIV. Engineering and Architectttre:
The principal English society dealing with mechanical science is the InsH^wi
Hon o/ Civil Engijieers (established in 1818, incorporated in 1S2S), which pub*
lishes Tra}isacti07is (4to, 1836-42) and Minutes c/ Proceedings (Svo, 1837, kc).
George Stephenson was the first president of the Institution o/ Mechanical
Engineers, which was founded at Birmingham in 1347, removed to London in
1877, and registered under the Companies Act in 1878. It holds migratory
meetings and publishes Proceedings. The Society o/ Ejigineers (1854), with
Transactions (1861, &c.); the Civil and Mechanical Engineers' Society (1854);
the Iron and Steel Institute (1869), with Transactions ; the Surveyors' Institutioit
(1S68, incorporated in 1881), which publishes Transactions and holds profes-
sional examinations; and the Aeronauiical Society o/ Great Britain (1866) also
meet in London. There are institutions in the provinces at Cardiff (1857,
incorporated in 1881), Chesterfield (1871), Dublin (1835, incorporated in 1857),
Glasgow (1857, with Transactions), Middlesborough (1864), and Newcastlo-on-
Tyne (1852, incorporated in 1S76, ^ith Transactions).
The leading architectural society is the Royal Institute o/British ArcTiiUdaf
founded m 1334, Incorporated ■> "87, and granted a new charter in 1687. It
appoints examining professional boards and publishes rT07isac(i07is(1836 ; 1879,
fi;c.)and Procecdi^^i \1879, &c.). There are also the associations of Birminghaia
(1S74), Edinburgh (1850), Exeter (1843), Glasgow (1S68), L«eds (1876), Leiccstejw
shire (1855), Liverpool (1S4S), Manchester (1S75), Newcastle-on-Tyne, and th«
societies of Manchester (1865) and O-xford (1837). The Architectural Association
of London publishes a Sketch Book O870, &c.). The Architectural PubliAing
Society (1S48) has published Essays 0848-52). and since 1852 has been bringing
out a Dictionary of Architecture, There is also a Society of Architects.
United States : Easton, Pa., Inst, of Mining Engineers. New York, Ar^er,
Soc of Civ. Eng., Traiis. ; Amer. Inst, of Min. Eng. ; Amer. Inst, of Architects,
France: Lyons, Soc Aoad. d'Arch. (1830), Annales (1867, kc). Paris, Soc. de»
Ingenieurs Civils, Mim. (1848, kc); Soc Cent, des Archilectes, BuJl^ (1851, Ac)
and Annales 0875, &C.) ; it has held a congress since 1875. Saint- Etienne, Soc
de I Industrie Min. (1855), Bull. Germany and Austbia-Hdngaby: Berlin.
SOCIETIEtS
227
Ver. Deuttcker IngenUute, ZUchr. (1857) and U'oOiensehri/t OS77, -Ac); f"".
f. EUtniaKnkmuk ; Atxid. dcs Bauwexna ; ArchilcUtnVer., ZUchr. Breslau,
ycT. f. Sej. dn- BiU. Kiinsle (1882). Constance, Mitnsterbau Ver. (1881). Drcs-
<len, Sdchs.Ingen.-u. Archileken-Ver., Vrotok. Hanover, Arch.- u. Ingen.-Ver.,
ZUchr. Klagenfurt, Bfr3-niiciHltKcii-.VaiiiiiscA<7i V'tr. ljCohcn,K. k. BcnjAl.ad.
Munich, Eayr. Arch.- «. Ingen.-Vcr., ZUchr. Tragae, Arch -vnd Ingen.-Ver.
Vienna, Oe^tcrr. Jngm.- v. Arck.-Ver., Zlschr. ; C«. /. Bild. Kiinitc. Bwitzer-
i.and: Lausanne, Soc. Vaudoise dcs Incjin, et des Arch. Zurich, Ker. .Schweiz.
Jtifen. u. Arch. Italt: Turin, Soc. dcgli Irrgcneri, >f(« (1868-70). Belgium :
Brussels, Assoc, des Ingln. Liiige, Assoc, des IngCn. (1847), AAnuaire (1861, &c.).
HotLAKD: Amsterdam, Maatschappij tot Jlevordcring der Bouwkunst, JSouioJnm-
^igcBijdragm (1843, &c.). Tlie liaguc, iioit. Init. van Jngen., Verslag (1848,
&c.), Verhandel. (1843, &c ) and Tijdxhr. (1870, 4c.). Spatn and Tonrvr.Ai.:
Lisbon, Assoc, dos Engenhciros Civ. I'ort. ; Soc dos ArchiUcUa e Archeotogos.
Madrid, Soc. Central de Arquitcctos.
XV. Natal AKD MiLiTAi-T Science.
The Jtoyal Untied Sernce Jnstitulw-.i, first known as the Naval and Mililary
Library and Museum (1831), took the name of the United Service Institution in
1839. and was incorporated In ISCO ; it has a professional museum and publishes
A Journal (1S5T, itc). The home of the society is in London, as is also that of
■thtliKiilulionof Naval Architects {\%m), which publishes Transactions (iU>, 16C0,
Ac). The Royal Artillery Institution (1838), which issues Minntes of Proceedings
.<1358, &c.), is at Woolwich, and the Moyal Engineers Institute (1875), which
issues r.oyal Engineers Professional Papers, at Chatham. Canada : Toronto,
ilUitary Inst. India : Simla, United Service Institution.
United States: New York, Military Service Inst., Journal (1679, &c.).
'Prance : Paris, Itiunion des Orders, now Cercle Mililaire, Bull. (1871, &c.),
Oermany and Austria -Hunoary: Munich, Militur. Ges. (1868), Jahrhiich.
(1871, &c.); Vienna, K. k. Milit.-Ceogr. Inst., Arlicilen (1871, &c.). Holland:
Utrecht, Fereen. tot Verspreiding van Kennis aangaande s'Lands Verdediging,
Jaarsverslag (1872 &c.) and Wcrken. Norway : Christiania, Mililmre Sam/und,
Kordsk Milit. Tidsskriji (1848, &c.). Denmabk: Copenhigen, Krlgsvidenskdb-
tiige Selskai, Mi^il. Tidsskri/t (1872, &C.).
XVT. AoRicuLTtmE and Trades.
The Itoyal AgrieuUural Society of England besanas the English Agricultural
Society in 1838 and was incorporated in 1840. It holds annually one migratory
meeting in some part of England or Wales and two meeting^s in London, where
are its head -quarters ; it publishes a Journal (1840, &c.). The leading pro-
vincial agricultural societies and associations are — Aberdeen, Boy. Northern
Agr. Soc. (1843). Arbroath, Angus Agr. Assoc. Banbury (1814). Basingstoke,
Jloy. Counties Agr. Soc. (1859). Bath, Balh and West of Engl. Soc. and Southern
Counties Assoc, (founded in 1777, enlarged in 1S52, and reorganized in 1866),
ie/fcrsond Payers (1780-1816)and./ourjuii(1852, &c.). Belfast, piemico..4^r. Soc.
0/ Ulster 0845), Proc. ; N. E. Agr. Aaoc. of Ireland. Birkeni ead, ll'irreJ and
Birkenhead .Agr. Soc. (1842). Brecknock (1856). Carluke (18S3\ Chelmsford,
Essex A^r. Soc (1858). Chertsey (1833). Uoncaster (1872). Dublin, floi/. Agr.
Soc. of Ireland (1841). Edinburgli, liiqhland and Agr. Soc of Scotland (17S4,
incorporated in 1787), Trans: (1799, iic). Halifax (1839, enlarged in 1858).
Ipswich, Suffolk Agr. Assoc (1831). Otlcy, Wharfedale Agr. Soc. Paisley,
Kenfreitishire Agr. Soc. (1802). 'tVarwick. Worcester (1838). Africa ; Cape
Town, Agr. Sac. Australia: 'Sydney, Jgr. Soc of N. S. Wcies. British
Guiana : Georgetown, Roy. Agr. and Commercial Soc. Canada: i^ontreal, Soc.
d'Agr. India : Calcutta, Agr. and Hortic. Soc, Journ. (1842, &c.).
United States : Aib&ny,State Agr. Soc, TheCultivate>r&nd Journal. Atlanta,
State Agr. Soc. Boston, Jnsf. of Technology. Hohuken, Stevens Inst, of Technol.
Madison, Slate Agr. Soc, Trans. (1852, &c.). Bacrament^r, Soc. of Agr. and
Jlortic. San Francisco, Agr. and llort. Soc. Troy, Bensselaer Polytechnic Inst.
"Worcester, Free Inst, of Industry.
France : Algiers, Soc. d'Agr. <1840), Bull. Amiens, Soc. Industrielle (1861),
Bull, Angers, Soc. Industr. et Agr. (1830), Bull. Bordeaux, Soc. d'Agr. Bou-
logne, Soc. d'Agr. Caen, Assoc Normandc pour VAgr., I'lndustrie, &c. (1831),
Annuaire (1835, &c.) ; Sou. d'Agr. et tde Comvntrce (1782), Mtm. (1653.68) and
Bull (1858, &c.). Ciiaionssur.Marne, Soc d'Agr., &c. (I79S), Mim. (1807, &c.).
lilbtuf, Soc. Ind\istr. (1858), Bull. Grenoble, Soc. d'Agr. et d' Harticr (\i3b), Sud-
Est (1855, Ac.). Le ManiJ, Soc. da Materiel Agr. (1857), Bull. Lyons. Soc des
Sc Industr. (1862), Annates. Montpellier, Soc d'Agr. (1799), Bull. (1S08, 4c.).
Nancy, Soc. Centr. d'Agr. Paris, Soc. Nat. d'Agr. de France (1761 ; reconstructed
in 1878 with a view of instructing Government on agricultural matters), M^m.
ond Bull. Rheims, .Soc. Industr. (1833), Bull. (1858, &c.). Koueu, Soc Industr.
(1872), BvXl. ; Soc. du ComvKerce et de I'Jnd. Saint-Jean-d'Angdly, jSoc. d'Agr.
<1819), Bull. (1833, &c.). St Qucntin, Soc. hulustr. (1868), Bull. Toulouse,
>5oc. dAgr. (jIgrmany and Austria-IIunoary : The migratory Congress Deut-
scher Volkswirthe first met at Gotlia in 1858. Agrani, Kroatisch-Slav. Latid-
toirths. Ges., Blittter. Augsburg, Landwirths. Ver., Landw. Blatter. Berlin,
Vereini^. Berlinerkaufieute ii. Industr. ; Ver. /. Ikford. des Ccwcrbcflcisses.
Bonn, larulwirthsch. Central-Vcr. Bremen, Landwirths. Ver. Breslau, La^ui-
vjirths. Central-Ver.; Sehles. Central Gewerbe-Ver. Coasel, Zandwirths. Central.
Ver., Mittheil. Cracow, Akerbau Ges., Annalen, Dantzic, Volkswirths. Ges.
(1S50). Darmstadt, Landwirths. Ver., Ztschr. Dresden, K. Oekononiie Ges. ;
K. Sajchs. Polytechnicum. FUrth, GeuKrhe-Ver.' Gratz, K.lc. Stttermarkisclic
Landwirths. Ges. Greifswald, Baltlschcr Central-Ver. Halle, Landwirths. Cen-
tral-Ver. Hanover, Gcvxrbe-Vcr. Innsbnick, K. k. Landwirths. Ges., U'ochen-
mhr. ; Karnt. Industrie- u. Gewerbc-Ver. Jonn, landwirths. Inst. Konlgsbcrg,
Ostpreuss. Landwirths. Central-Ver. Lcipsic, iMndunrtlis. Krcis-Ver.; Polytcchn.
Ges. Ijim, K. k. -Landwirths. Ges. T.ithco\t, iMudwirtlts. Ver., Mittheil. Muhl-
hausen. Soc. Industr., Bull. Munich, Landwirths. Kreis-Ver. ; Polytechn. Ver.
NTircmberg, Polytechn. Ver. Pesth, Ungar. Akcrhau Ges., Millheil. ; Indiuttrielle
Ges. Plague, Bohmiselicr Gewerbe-Ver. ; Industrie Ges., Mlltheil. and Anrialen.
Ratisbon, Landwirths. Kreis-Vcr., Bauervfrcund, Stuttgart, K. U'urttcmh.
Centnil-Stelle, Wochenblatt. Trieste, Akrrhau Ges. Tllbingen, laiu^u'lr^A*. Ver.
Vienna, K. k. Bcichs Landwirths. Ges., Ztschr. Wiesbaden, Gewerbe-Ver. Swit-
zerland: Bern, Oekonom. Ges. Lausanne, Soc. d'Agr. de la Suisse Honuivdr.
Zurich, Ver. f. Landwirths. u. Gartcnbau. Italy: Bologna, Soc.^iprarfn, /Inrtait.
Caoliari, Soc. Agr. ed Econoni. Florence, Soc. Econom. edAgr., Iteiidiconti.
Milan, Soc Agr. dl Lombardia; Soc. Gen. dcgli Agricolt. Ital. ; ."ivc d'Incoragg.
di Arti e Mestieri, Discorsi. Perugia, Soc. Econom. ed Agr., AtlL Turin. Aeeajl.
Peale fli Agricolt. i Assoc. Agr. Ital., Escrcita^ioni, Verona, Acead. d' Agricolt.
BELeicTM : Soc. Centr. d'Agricult. (1854), Bull. Ghent, Soc. Roy. d'Agr. et de Bot.
LiSge, Soc. d'Agr., Journ. (1850, 4c.). Vorvlers, Soc. Industr. et Comv\erc (1868),
Bull. Holland: AmaicTtiam, Aardrijskund\g Genootschap; Verecniging voor
VolksvUjt. Denmark : Copenhagen, ;f. Latulhuusholdnings SeUkah ; Del StatUI.
TabelvKrk. Norway: Christiania, J*of]/tefcni*te /•'oreuinjf. Swkdeh: K.landi-
l)ruks Akademien. Spain an<i Portugal: Barcelona, Soc. Econom., Adas.
Xiabon, Inst. Real de Agric. ; Soc. Promotora. de Industr. Madrid, Soc Econom.
Matrittnsc, Analcs. Oforio, Acad. Polytechn. Russia: 'Dnrimt, K. Livtdndische
Oekortcrm. Ges., Jahrhtich. KazetT), Imp. Ecmi/ym.. Soc, Monthly Reports. Moscow,
Imp. Soc t^f AgriculturalLils. OdesM, Imp. Agroriom. Soc. of S. Russia. Kiga,
Technical .*^or. .*^t Petersburg, Imp. Econom. Soc, Trans. ; Technical Soc Bou-
uahla; BuQl\are:iU Soc Rouvuxiruid^ Agr.
Xvn. LiTEiii.TCBE, History, and AacnjEoumi.
The Coiijrii International des Orientatisles first me' t Paris in 1873 ; li imutrs
Contptes Rtndus (1874, &c.). The Congrts Bihliographiipie Internatiaimt iiehl
Its tlrst meeting in 1878, and the Congrts des Americanistes its first meeting in
1875. The Royal Society of LiUratim (1823, incorporated in 1826), with 7rtiiM.
actions (4to, 1829-39; 8vo, 1843, 4e.), and the Itoyal Asiatic Society (1823),
with Journal (1834, &c.), have their headquarters in London, as well as tho
following literary societies and printing clubs, all of which issue-publications :
—Aristotelian (1879), Authors (1884), JIallatt (160S), Browning (1881), Carlylt
(1879), C/uiiic«r (ISOS), liurly English Text (1804), East India Association (1866),
English Dialect (1873), Gaelic, Hebrew Literature (1872), Hellenic Studies 0879),
Index (1877), Library Association (1877), Loiidopi Dialeeiical (1865), New Shakspere
(1873), Oriental Translation Fund (1828), Pali Text, PhHobibUm{\»bi), Philological
(1848), Roxburghe Club (1812), Shorthand, U'ords-mrth (1880), IVydif (ISio), Tho
Cambridge Philological Society, the Glasgow llunterian Club (1871), tjie Lancaskir€
and Cheshire Historical Society (1828), at Liverpool, the Manchester Literary Club,
with Transactions and Papers (1874, 4c.), and tlie Manx Society ^\^S), at Douglas,
may also be mentioned.
The oldest and most important society in England dealing with history and
archaeology is the .Society of Antiquaries of London, which enthusiasts trace to
.in association founded by Archbishop Parker in 1572. The meetings were not
publicly recommenced until 1707 ; the present body was incorporated in 1751 :
it publishes Vetera Monumenta (fol., 1747, 4c.),^TcAa:o/oj7ia(4to, 1770, 4c.), and
proceedings (8vo, 1849, 4c.). The Royal Archxological Institute (1843), issuing
the Archxological Journal (1845, Ac); the British Archeeological Association
(1843), with Journal (1846, 4c.); the Numismatic Society (1^36), issuing fho
Numismatic CAronic^c (1838, 4c.); and the ifoyai /fisloricai Socicli/ (18CS), with
Transactions, belong to London, as well as the following historical and anti-
quarian societies, all of which issue publications :^j4ruridei (1846), Camden
(1838), Cjmmrodorioii. (1751-73, revived in 1820), Dileltanti (1734), Folk Lore
(1877), llarlcian (1869), Holbein, Huguenot (1885), ioiiffem and Middlesex Archeeol.
(1855), Medallists (1885), Middlesex County Records (1884), Pafa-ojrapftical, PijM
Roll (1883), Rabelais Club (187B), Seal (1883), Soc. BiM. Archxol. (1870), Soc. for
Prot. Anc. Buildings (1877), Topographical (1880). The Society of Antiquaries oj
Scotland (1790), at Edinburgh, and the Irish Archteology and Celtic Society, &t
Dublin, are tne leading associations outside London. Among others are —
Aberdeen, New Spalding Club {lS^i>) ; Bedfordshire Archarol. and Archiiect. Soc.
(1844); Bristol, Bristol and Gloucester Arch. Soc. (1876); Cambrian Arch. Assoc.
(1846); Cambridge Antiq. Soc (1840) ; Dublin, Roy. Hist. i-ndArch. .Soc. ; Durham,
Surtees Soc. (1834); Essex Arch. Soc (1852); Exeter, Diocesan Arch. Soc. (1841);
Glasgow Arch. Soc. (1856); Kent Arch. Soc. (1857); Lane, and Cheshire Antig. Soc.
(1883); Manchester, aiethamSoc (1643); Newcastle-on-Tyne Soc of Ant iq. (1813);
Norwich. Norfolk and Norwich Arch. Soc (1846); Oxford, Architect, and Jli^t. Soc.
(1839) and Hist. .Soc. (ISSS); Purbeck Soc ; Sussex Arch. Soc (1840); Welshpool,
Powys Land Club (1867); and Yorkshire Arch, and Topogr. Assoc (1863).
Canada : Montreal, Soc. Hist., Mem. (1859, 4c.); Numism. and Anttg. Soc,
Journ. (1872, &c.). Quebec, Lit. and Hist. Soc, Trans. (1837, 4c.). Toronto,
Lit. and Hist. Soc. China : Hong Kong, Roy. Asiatic Soc. Shanghai, Roy.
Asiatic Soc, Journ. (1858, &c.). India : Bombay, Roy. Asiatic Soc. (1841),
Journ. (1844, Ac). Calcutta, j4sia/ic Soc. of Bengal, Journ. (1832, 4c.) and Proc
(1865, &c.). Colombo, Roy. Asiatic Soc'., Journ. (1844, &c.). Singapore, i!oy-
Asialic Soc.
United States : Baltimore, Hist. Soc Boston, Mass. Hist. Soc, Collections
(I792ii &c.) and .Proc. (1859, 4c.) ; Neio Engl. Hist.-Gen. Soc (1846), Proc. ; ^rifr.
Oricnta! Soc. (1S43), Journ. (1849, Ac). Brunswick, Hist. Soc Chicago, Hist.
Soc Concord, Hist. Soc, Coll. (1824, &c.). Hartftrd, Amer. Philolog. Soc. ; Hist.
.Soc, Coll. (1860, 4c.). Madison, Hist. Soc, Coll. (1855, 4c.). Minneapolis, Hist.
SOc.Coll. (1869, Ac). Montpelier, Hist. Soc. of Vermont, CM. (1869, Ac). New
York, Hist. Soc, Coll. (1811, 4c.) ; Gcnealog. Soc ; Amer. Library Assoc. 0876),
Libr. Journ. Philadelphia, Hist. Soc, Mem. (1826, Ac^; Numism. and Arch. Soc.
(1866). Portland, Maine Hist. Soc, Coil. (1831, 4c.). Providence, Hist. Soc, Coll.
(1827, Ac). Richmond, Virg. Hist, and P'lil. Soc.,Publ. (1874, Ac). St Louis,
Missouri Hist. Soc. Savannah, Hist. Soc, Coll. (1840, 4c.). Topeka, Hist. Soc,
Trans. (1881, &c.), Worcester, Amer. Antiq. Soc ,7Yoc. and Arch. Amer. (lS20,4c.).
France : The Congris Archeologique de la F-anee first met in 1834. Algiers,
Soc. Hist. (1856), Reinie (1866, Ac). Amiens, Soc. des Antiq. (1836), Mhn. (l836,
Ac.) and Bull. AngouWme, Soc. Arch, et Hist. (1844),' Bii». Bordeaux, Soc-
Archiol. (1873). Caen, Soc. des A >i(i<j. de Normandie 0824), Mem. (1825, 4c) ami
Bull. (I860, Ac.) ; Soc. Fran. d'Arch. (1834), CompUs Rend. (1634, Ac.) and Bull.
Meiis. (18.^5, Ac). Constantino, -Joe. Arch. (1852), ttecueil. Dijon, Comm. dts
AntiquiUs (1830), Jlf^a. (1832, Ac). Limoges, Soc. Hist, et Arch. (1S45), Bull.
Lyons, Soc. //i.iC., Litt., et Arch. (1807), Mim. (ISSl, Ac). MiSntpellier, Soc. ^rc».,
JlfiJm. (1835, Ac). Nancy, Soc. d'Arch. de Lorraine (1S48), Mem. (16.10, Ac.) and
Journ. (1852, Ac;). Nantes, Soc. Arch. (1845), 7>'ii». (1859, 4c.). Orleans, Soc
Arch, et Hist. (1849), Mim. (1851, Ac) and BuU. Paris, Soc. Nat. des Antig. de Fr.
(based on the Academic Cettignc), MHi. (1817, jtc) and Bull. (1857, Ac.) ; Soc. rf«
I'llist. dc France (1833), has published about 270 vols. ; Soc. de VEeole Nat. des
Charles 0854), BiblioUilque ; Soc. Asiatigue (I822V Journal .^sial. (1622, tic.'),
4c ; Soc Fran. d'Arch. et dc Numism. ; Soc. de I Hist, du Prot. Fran. ; Sec de
Linguistique ; Soc Bibliogr. (1S08), Polybiblion. Poitiers, Soc des Antiq. (I83t),
Mim. Rouen, Soc. de I'llist. de Norm. (1S6P), Pubt. Toulouse, Soc Arch. (IS31),
Mim. Tours, Soc. Arch. (1840), Mim. (1842, Ac). Germany and A' stria-
Hunoary: Ccsam. Ver. S. D. Gesch. u. Alt. Vercine (lK'2). Agram. Ges. f. Sitd-
Slav. Altefth. Altcnburg, Gesch. u. Alterihums Ges. (1838), Millheil..{\Si^, Ac).
Augsburg, Hist. Ver. (1820, reorganized in 1634), Jahresber. (1835, &c). Baden,
Alterthums-Ver. O&IJ), Schriflcn. Bamberg, Hist. Ver. (1830), Ber. (1834, 4c.).
Berlin, Ver.f. Gescli. d. Mark Brandenb. (1836), ^or.icAimicii(1841,4c) ; Vcr.f ri.
Gesch. Berlins 0666), Schrfften ; Hist. Ges. (1872), Mittheil. ; Arrh,uJ,<.}. Ges. OMIX
ArcMol. Zeitung; Numian. Ocs. (1843), Jaliresber. (1846, Act, Hcrold (ISi'9);
Phil. Ges. (1843), Der Grdtnk' (lHai, &c) : Ges. f. D. PhitoU-r,:. ii.^TT) .IJiresh-r.
(1679,4c). Bonn, I'cr./.^ilcrrt, (1841), Jnftrrsler.; for. r ' Unrn-
deuburg, Hisl. Ver. (IBfib), Jnhrcsbcr. (1870, 4o.). Bmilii . 08(l«),
Ztsthr. (1858, Ac). Brcslnu, I'cr. /. Gesch. u. Alt. Sehl. (Is !■ '', .^i'):
lireslavcr Diehterschule (MUd). (jasacl, I'tr. /. WcK,«. (JcjcA. (ls;i i
4c.). Cologne, 7/ ijr(. Kcr. (1854), /InniJcn (1856, Ac). Danii^i
(1834), Arduu (1835 4c.). Dresden, K. Sachs. All. Vrr. 0624), .i r
Ac.) and Mittheil. (1835, -ic). Frankfort, Crs. f Deulschlands ait. (.\. .u..(.<-
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Ges. (1814). LUbeck, Hanslscher Ges. Ver. (1870). Munich, ;/ >.
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Gch. Bnlisbon, Hist. Ver. (1830), Verluindl. (1832, 4o.V Scb«.rir, VlT. f.
iltckl. Gesch. u. Allrrihunuk. OS35). Jalirbvrl. ri,i3o. Ac) ond oUrt publ ■allCT> >
228
S O C — S O C
Stuttgart, Xi(. Ver. (1839). BiUUtOitTc (1843, tc.) ; WliTllemb. Allerth. Ver. (1843).
Vienna, K. t. Cr-ient. Akad. Weimar, D. Shakespeart Cm. (1864), Jahrbuck n865,
&C.). Wiesbaden, r<T./. .f^o^. .^ikrlA. (lS21),jl7i7iaI<!n (1S30, 4c.). Wurzburg,
fiis^. Ter. (1830), Archiv (1833). Switzerland; Basel, Hist u. Antiq. Ges.
Bern, Schweiz. Hist. Ges. Freiburg, Soc. d' Hist. Geneva, Soc. d'Hist. et d'Arch.
Lausanne, Soc. d'Hist. Zuricb, Soc d'Hist. ; Antiq. Ges. Italy; Genoa, Soc.
di Storin Patria. Naples, R. Accad. ; R. Accad. Ercolanese. •Rome, Accad. Rom.
di Arch. ; Soc. Rom. di Sloria Patria; Jnst. di Corr. Arch.; RriL and Amer.
Arch. Soc.; K. Deutsch.Archiiolog. Inst. ^ Arch-. Ztn^. ilS43.&^) hndJahrb. Turin,
Real Deputas. di Stor. Fatr. BELOitru; Antwerp, .4cad. dMrcA*oir(lS42), i?i/H.
(1865, &c.). Bruges, Soc pour I'Hist. et les Antiq.'de la Flandre (1S39), Pnbl.
Brussels, Soc. de I'Hist. de Belgiqut (1858), PuU. ; Soc. Roy. de Numism. (1841),
Revue ; Soc. des Bibliophiles (1865). Ghent, Soc Roy. des Beaux-Arts et de la
LiU. (1808), Anwilcs (1844, &c.); WUlems Fond (1851). Liege, Jnst. Archlol.
(1852), Bull. (1S52, &c). Louvain, Soc Lilt. (1839), Mem,, and Publ. Mons,
Cerde Archeol. (1856), Annates (1857, &C.). "Toumai,ioc Hist, et LiU. (1846), Bull.
(1849, &c.). Verviers, Soc .^rcA. Ypres, Soc i/is(. (1861). Holland: Leyden,
Acad. Lugdiino-Batava. Luxembourg, Inst. Archcol. (1846, reorganized in 1862),
Annales (1849, &c.). Utrecht, Hist. Genootschap. Denmark: Copenhagen,
Island. Litt. Selskab ; K. Danslie Sdskab ; K. Nordisk Oldskrift Selskab. Reykjavik
• (Iceland), Fornlei/arfelag. Norway : Cbristiania, Norske Hist. Forening ; Norske
Oldskri/t Sdskab. Sweden: K. Vitterh^ts Htst. och Antiq. Akad: ; SvenskaAkad.
Spain ; Barcelona, R. Acad, de Buenos Letras ; Madrid, R. Acad, de Cienc. ilor.
yPol. ; R. Acad. £..j). Arq. ; R.'Acad. de la Hist. Greece: Athens, Soc Archeol.
Russia : Hclsingfors, Finska Litt. Scdlskapet. • Mitau, Courland Soc. of Lit. and
Art. MOSCOW, Imp. Russ. Soc. of Hist, and Antiq. ; Archxolog. Soc. Narva,
Archxolog. Soc. Odessa, Hist, and Antiq. Soc Riga, Lett. Lit. Ges. ; Hist, and
Antiq. Soc. St Peter3bui^,/iiiiss. Hist. Soc Turkey : Constantinople, Soc /or
Adv. of TurkUh Lit. ; Hellenic Philoloq. Soc. Japan-: Yokohama, .^sialic Soc. of
Japan, Trans. (1874, &c)r
XTm Geookapht.
The Congris International pour les Frogr^ des Sciences Giographiques first met
in 1871. The Royal Geographical Society of London, founded in 1830, had joined
to it in the following year the African Association (1788), the successor of the
Saturday Club ; the Patestijie Association (1805) became merged with it. in 1834.
It publishes Journal (1832, &c.) and Proceedings (1857, &o.). The Haklnyt
Society (1846) has printed more than 70 vols, of rare voyages and tiavels. The
Alpine Club (1858). whose publications ar* Peaks Passes, and Glaciers (1859-62)
and Journal (1863,i&c.), and the Palestim Exploralion Fund (1865), publishing
Quarterly Statement (1869, t&c.) and Memoirs, meet in London. The Scottish Geo-
graphical Society (1884) has its centre at Edinburgh, and issues the Scottish
Geographical MaJjazine. iiAnchester has also A Geographical Society. Australia:
Melbourne, Gcogr, Soc. Sydney, Geogr. InsL Canada: Quebec, Geogr. Soc
12JDLA: Bombay, Geogr. Soc, Trans. (1836, &c.^. •
United States : New York, Amer. Geogr. (and Statist.) Soc, Bull. (1852, &c.),
Journ. (1859, be), and Proc (1862, &c.); Palestine Exploration Soc (1870).
France: Bordeaux, Soc de Geogr. Commerciale (1874), Bull. Lyons, Soc. de
Seagr. (1873), Bull. Marseilles, Soc de Geogr. (1876), Bull. Paris, Soc de Geogr.
(1821, reorganized in 1827), Bull. (1822, &C.). Germany and Acstria-Honoarv ;
D. Geographentag (1881), Verhandl. ; D. Alpen-Vcr. (1869), Ztschr. u. Jahrb. (1869,
tie.). BerUn, Ges. /. Erdk-unde (1828), Zlschr. (1853, &c.) and Verhandl. (1873,
&c); Ges. zur Erforschung Aequat. Afrikas (1873), Corr.-Blait. ; Afrik. Ges.
(1878), Mitlheil. Bremen, Geograph. Ges. (1877), Geogr. BlatUr. ' Carlsruhe,
Badische Geogr. Ges. (1880), Verhandl. Cassel, Ver. /. Erdk. (1882). Darmstadt,
Ver.f Erdk. 0845), Notizbtatt (lS5i, &c.). Dresden.i'er./. Erdk. (1863), Jahresber.
Frankfort, Ver. f. Geogr. u. Statist. (1836), Jahresber. Halle, Ver. f. Erdk. (1873).
Hamburg, Geogr. Ges. (1873), Ji^resber. Hanover, Geogr. Ges. (1878), Jahresber.
Jena, G«ojr. Ges. (1880), Mitlheil. Leipsic, Ver. / Erdk. (1861), Jahresber.
Liibeck, Geogr. Ges. (1880). Mjinich, Geogr. Ges. (1869), Jahresber. Pesth, Hung.
Geogr. Soe. (1873). Vienna, K. k. Geogr. Ges., ilittl^ (1857, &c.); Ver. der
Geogr, if eimiT, Geogr. Inst. SwrrzERlAUD : Bern, Inst. Geagr.; Schweiz. Alpen-
Club. Geneva, Soc <fe Geogr., Aftm. (1860, &c.). Zarich, Karten-Ver. Italy:
Rome, Soc Geogr. Itat., Bull. (1863, &c.). Turin, Circoto Geogr. Ital. (1868).
Beloiuu : Antwerp, Soc Beige de Geogr. (1870), Bull. Brussels, Soc Bdge de
Geogr. Holland: Amsterdam, Het Aardrijkskundig Genoot., Tijdschrift (1874,
be); Landkundiae Genootschap. Denmark ; Copenhagen, Geogr. Selskab. Spain
andPoRTUOAL: Lisbon, Soc deGcojr.,So(. (1876, &c.).. Madrid, Soc Geogr., Bol.
(1876, be.). Russia ;' Irkutsk, Ceojr. Soc, Bull. (1871, &c.). St Petersburg,
Jmp. Russ. Geogr. Soc, Mem. (1849, &c.)and Bull. (1865, &c.). Tiflis, Geogr. Soc,
Mem. (1852, &c.). EovpT : Cairo, Soc. KTiMiviale de Geogr., Bull. (1876, &&).
Japan: Xokio, Geogr. Soc Central and South America : Buenos Ayres, /twJ.
Geogr. ^rgenl. Mexico, Soc de Geogr. cd Estad., Bol. (1861, &c.). Eio Janeiro,
Roy. Geogr. Soc.
. Bibliography.— The Catal. of Printed Boola in Vie Brilish Museum (1841), folio,
tr; "Academies," contains a list of all the publications of societies at that time
in the museum. This has been re-arranged and greatly enlarged as Academies
(1885-86), 5 parts folio. See also Annuaire des Soc Sav. de la France et de
f Stranger (1846), 8vo; A. d'Hericourt, Annuaire, 1863-66, 3 pts. 8vo; Cat.- of
Periodicals in Bodleian Lib., pt. iii. Foreign, 1880, 8vo ; S. H. Scudder, Cat. of
Sdentifc Serials, 1633-1876,Camb. (U. 3.),1S79, Svo.very complete ; P. E. Richter,
Periodica im Besitze des k. off. Bibl, zu Dresden, 18S0, 8vo ; Cat. of Trans., &c., in
Raddiffe Lib., 1884, 8vo; List of Foreign Corr, of the Smithsonian Inst 1886, 8vo.
British sotieties are now well represented in the Year Book of the Scientific and
Learned Societies of Great Brit and Ireland, 1SS4, &c. See also Hume's Learned
Societies and Printing Clubs of the U. A'., 1853, 8vo ; E. Jlailly, Inst. Sc. de la
Grande Bre^, 1861-67, 6 pts. ; H. G. Bohn, App. to Bibliographer': Manual, 1864,
Bvo ; Engl. Catal. of Books', 1864-82, 3 vols. 8vo ; and " Sc. Societies and Field
Clubs,'* in Nature, v., viii. For Fraude, see U. Robert, Bibl. des Soc. Sav de la
France, pt. i., 1878 ; F. Bouillier, L'Institut et les Acad, de Province, 1879, 8vo ;
Bibliogr. des Travaux Hist et Arch. publ. par les Soc Sav. de la France, 1885,
be., 4to (in prog.). For Germany and Austria-Hungary, see H. A. Stohr, Allg.
Deutxhes Vereinshandbuch, 1873, &c.; 8vo ; J. Miller, Die wiss. Vereine u. Ges.
Deutschlandsim I9t€nJahrh.,l8S3,itoiitipTog.); J. Winckler, Die period. Prcse
Oesterreichs, 1875, 8vo ; and P. A. F. Walther for German historical societies
(1845). E. Huth, rerreicftni^, Berlin, 1887, &c. (in prog.), describes publica-
tions of societies relating to natural science. See also *' Les Congres Scienti-
ftques,"-by Count de Marsy, in Compte Rendu du Congris Bibliogr., 1S79. For
Belgium, see Introd. a la Bibl. de, la Belgique, 1875. For Italy, see G. Ottino, La
^tampa Periodica in Italia, 1875, 8 vo. For Russia, consult C. Woldemar, Geseh.
d. rytss. Gdehrten- und Schul-Amtalten, St Petersburg, 1865, 8vo, and Kawall,
Die ncuen russ. NaturforschergeseUschafUn, Riga, 1872-74. (H. R. I.).
SOCIETY ISLANDS. See Tahiti Aechipelago.
SOCINUS, the Latiniied form of the Italian Soccini,
Sozini, or Sozzini. •
I. Lelio Francesco Maeia Sozini (1525-1562), theo-
Jogical inquirer, ■was bom at Siena on 29th January 1525.
[His fp.mily descended from Sozzo. a banker at Percena,
vrliose second son, Mino Sozzi, settled as a notary at Siena
in 1304. Mino Sozzi's grandson, Sozzino (d. 1403), ■was
the ancestor of a line of patrician jurists, of whom Mariano
Sozzini, senior (1397-1467), was the. first and the' most
famous. Lelio was the sixth.*on of Mariano Sozzini, junior
(1482-1556), by his -ft-ife Camilla Salvetti. The family
name is variously spelled, (usually " Soqcini " by modern
■writers) ; Lelio invariably uses the form " Sozini," Latin-
izing-it "Sozinus" ; his nephew Fausto (see below) writes
" Sozzini " and " Socinus." Sozini was educated as a jurist
under his father's eye at Bologna. According to Jlelan-
chthon, it was his desire to reach the f antes juris which led
him to Biblical studies and hence to the rejection of '" the
idolatry of Kome." Later on he acquired some knowledge
of Hebrew and Arabic (he gave to Bibliander a manuscript
of the Koran) as well as Greek, but he 'was never a labori-
ous student. His father supplied him with means, and on
coming of age he went to Venice, the headquarters of the
evangelical movement in Italy. A tradition first published
by Sand in 1678, and amplified by subsequent 'writers,
makes Sozini the leading spirit in certain alleged theological
Conferences at Vicenza, about 1546, which are said to have
forecast the main positions of the Unitarian heresy ; but
the whole account, including the story of the flight of Sozini,
must be rejected as mythical. At this period the standpoint
of Sozini was that of evangelical Protestantism ; his mental
temper presents a singular union of enthusiastic piety ■with
a love for the subtleties of theological speculation. It was
at Chiavenna in 1547- that he came under the influence
of a gentle mystic, Camillo of Sicily, surnamed <' Renato,"
whose teaching anticipated at many points that of the
early Quakers. Pursuing his religious travels, Sozini visited
Switzerland, France, England, and Holland, returning to
S'witzerland at the close of 1548. He had commendatory
letters to the Swiss churches f ronj Nicolas Meyer, envoy
from Wittenberg to Italy ; but his family nanie was a
sufficient passport, and wherever he went his personal
charm won friends. We find him in 1549-50 at Geneva
and Basel (wdth Sebastian Miinster), but chiefly at Zurich,
where he lodges ■with Pellican. He spends eleven months
(July 1550 to June 1551) at Wittenberg, at first under
Melanchthon's roof, then with Johann.Forster for the im-
provement of his Hebrew. From Wittenberg Sozini re-
turned to Zurich (end of 1551) after visiting Prague,
Vienna,. and Cracow. Political events attracted him back
to Italy in June 1552. Two visits to Siena (where free-
dom of speech was for the moment possible, owing to
the shaking off of the Spanish yoke) brought him into
fruitful contact with his young nephew Fausto.' He
was at Padua (not at Geneva, as is often said) at the
date of Servetus's execution (27th October 1553). Thence
he made his way to Basel (January 1554), .Geneva (April),,
and Zurich (May), where he took up his abode.
Calvin, as well as Jlelanchthon, received Sozini with open
arms. Melanchthon (though a phrase in one of his letters
has been strangely misinterpreted) never regarded him
with theological suspicion. To Calvin's keen glance
Sozini's over-speculative tendency and the genuineness of
his reliffious nature -n'ere equally apparent. A passage
often quoted from one of. Calvin's letters to Sozini (1st
January 1552) has been construed as a breaking oiF of
amicable intercourse ; but, while more than once uneasy
apprehensions arose in Calvin's mind, there was no breach
of correspondence or of friendship. Of all the Reformers
Bullinger was Sozini's closest intimate, his warmest and
wisest friend. Sozini's theological difficulties turned upon
the resurrection of the body, predestination, the ground of
salvation (these were the points on which he corresponded
with Calvin), the doctrinal basis of the' original gospel
(queries addressed to Bullinger), the nature of repentance
S O C I N U S
229
■o Rudolph Gualther), the sacraments (to Jo?]ann Wolff).
Not till the fate of Servetus had directed hi8 mind to the
question of the Trinity did he throw out any doubts upon
this subject. At Geneva, in April 1554, he had uttered
incautious remarks on the common doctrine, emphasized
in a subsequent letter to Martinengo, the Italian pastor.
Bullinger, warned by several correspondents (including
Calvin), questioned Sozini as to his faith, and received
from him an explicitly orthodox confession, afterwards
reduced to writing (15th July 1555), with a frank reserva-
tion of the right of further inquiry. A month before
this Sozini had been sent with Martino Muralto to Basel
to secure Ochino as pastor of the Italian church at Zurich.
There can be little doubt that the minds of Sozini and
Ochino (a thinker of the same order as Camillo, but with
liner dialectic skill) acted powerfully on each other in the
radical discussion of theological problems. Sozini lost his
father in 1556, an event which involved him in pecuniary
anxieties. To what property he was entitled does not
appear ; he got nothing under his father's will. Fortified
with the most influential introductions (including one from
Calvin), he visited in 1558 the courts of Vienna and
Cracow to obtain support for his appeal to the reigning
duke of Florence. His object was to realize his own estate
and secure that of his family. It is a sufficiently curious
circumstance that Melanchthon's letter introducing Sozini
to Maximilian II. invokes the historic parallel of the
emperor Constans rendering a hospitable reception to
Athanasius, when he fled from Egypt to Treves. Well
received out of Italy, Sozini (who does not appear to have
got beyond Venice) found he could do nothing at home.
The Inquisition had its eye on his family : his brother
Cornelio was imprisoned at Rome ; his brothers Celso and
Camillo and his nephew Fausto were "reputati Luterani"
at Siena, and Camillo had taken refuge in flight. In
August 1 559 Sozini returned to Zurich, and we hear little
inore^of him. His brief career ended on 14th May 1562,
at his lodging in the house of Hans Wyss, silk-weaver.
The news of his death reached his nephew at Lyons
through Antonio Maria Besozzo. Fausto repaired to Zurich
and got his uncle's papers, comprising very little connected
•writing, but a good many notes. Fausto has so often been
regarded as a plagiarist from Lelio that it may be well
here to state that his debt to Lelio, somewhat over-estimated
by himself, was twofold. (1) He derived from him in con-
versation (1552-53) the germ of his theory of salvation;
{2) Lelio's paraphrase (1561) of ipx^ in John i. 1 as "the
beginning of the gospel" gave Fausto a. hint of Biblical
exegesis by help of which he constructed a new Christology.
Apart from these suggestions, Fausto owed nothing to
lielio except a curiously far-fetched interpretation of John
viiL 58, and the stimulating remembrance of his pure
character and brilliant gifts. The two men were of totally
different genius. Lelio, impulsive and inquisitive, was in
quest of the spiritual ground of religious truth ; the drier
mind of Fausto sought in external authority a, basis for
the ethical teaching of Christianity.
Sozini's extant wiitinga .ire (I) De Sacramentis Dissertatio, four
parts, 1560, and (1) De Hesurreclione, a fragment. Both were first
printod in F. cl L. Socini, ilevi E. Soneri Tradalus, Amstcrdani,
1654, 16mo. To tlicso may bo added his Confession, 1555 (printed
in Hottingcr, Hist. Eccles. N. T., vol. ii., sec. 16, part 5, 1GG7), and
about twenty-four letters, some still unprinted ; but the most im-
portant will bo found in Illgen and Trechsel, and (the earliest) in
tho edition of Calvin's works by I3anm, Cunitz, and Rouss. Sand
adds a Rhapsodia in Esaiam Prophelam, of which nothing is known.
Bcza suspected that Sozini had a hand in tho De Heerelicis, an sint
persequendi, 1553, and to him has also been assigned the Contra
I/ihcllum Calvini, 1554 ; but these ascriptions wore not made till
his nephew had identified his name with active heresy, and are
not supported by internal evidence. To Lelio also Ueza assigned
<in 1567) an anonymous ExpHcatio (1562) of tho proem of St John's
Oospel, which was the work of Fausto. This error, adopted by
Zanchi, has been the chief source of the misconception which repre-
sents Lelio as a heresiarch. In Franc. Guinio's De/msio Calh. DocL
de S. Trin., 1590-91, is an anonymous enumeTalio of motives for
adhering to the doctrine of the Trinity, by some ascribed to Lelio,
by others, with somewhat more probability, to Fausto.
For the life of L. Sozini the best guide Is TrechBel, Die Prot. Antitriru vor F,
Socii^ vol. ii.. 1844 ; but there are valuable materials In Illgen, Vita L. Socini,
1814, and especially Symbolx ad Vitam tt Doctrinam L. Soc., &c., 1826. Wallaco
(Antitrin. Biog., 1850, ii. 63) gives the ordinary Unitarian view relying on
Bock, Da Porta, and Lubienccki ; see also Bonet-Maury's Early Sources of
English Unit. Christ., 1884, chap. 9. Use has been made above of unprinted
sources
n. Fausto Paolo Sozzini (1539-1604), theological
■writer, was born at Siena on 5th December 1539, the
only son of Alessandro Sozzini, " princeps subtilitatum." by
Agnese, daughter of Borghese Petrucci. He was thus
descended on the one side from the long line of great
lawyers, of whom Mariano the elder is traditionally said
to have been the first heretic of the family, on the other
from Pandolfo Petrucci, the Cromwell of Siena. His father
died in 1541 at the early age of thirty-one. Fausto re-
ceived no regular education ; he was brought up at home
with his sister FiUide. The influence of the able women
of his family communicated a strong moral impress to his
thought. His youth was spent in desultory reading at
Scopeto, the country seat of his family. His early intel-
lectual stimulus came from his uncle Celso, an esprit fort,
though always nominally a Catholic, and the founder of
the Accademia dei Sizienti (1554), of which Fausto was a
member. In 1556 his grandfather's will made him inde-
pendent by leaving him one-fourth of the family estates.
Next year he was enrolled in the famous Accademia degli
Intronati, the centre of the intellectual life of Siena. His
academic name was "H FrastagUato"; he took as his badge
" un mare turbato da venti," with the motto " turbant sed
extoUimt." About this time Panzirolo {De Claris Legg.
Interpp., not published till 1637) describes him as a young
man of fine talent, and bespeaks for him a legal career.
But Fausto despised the law, and preferred the writing of
sonnets. He was suspected of Lutheranism in 1558-59;
soon after he came of age (1561) he went to Lyons, being
probably employed there in mercantile business ; he re-
visited Italy after his uncle Lelio's death ; we next find
him enrolled for a short time in 1562 as a member of the
Italian church at Geneva ; he returned to Lyons next
year. The evangelical position was not n lical enough
for him. His ^^rpZicaiio (1562) of the proer to St John's
Gospel shows that already he attributed to our Lord an
official instead of an essential deity; a letter of 1563
rejects the natural immortality of man (a position developed
long after in his disputation with Pucci). Towards the
end of 1563 he conformed again to the Catholic Church,
and spent the next twelve years in Italy, partly at court.
Przypkowski, regardless of chronology, places him in the
service of Francesco, grand-duke of Tuscany. His unpub-
lished letters show that he was in the service only of
Isabella de' Medici, Francesco's sister. This portion of hia
life is obscure, and he afterwards regarded it as wasted.
Till 1567 he continued to give some attention to legal
studies. Ho found time to write (1570) his treatise De
Aucloritate S. Scripturx. In 1571 he was in Rome, per-;
haps with his patroness. At tho end of 1575 ho loft Italy,'
and after Isabella's death (strangled by her husband in
1576) declined the overtures of Francesco, who pressed him
to return. Francesco was probably awaro of the motives
which led Sozzini to quit Italy ; for there is every reason
to boliovo tho statement of Przypkowski that tho gr.ind-
duko agreed to protect him in the cnjoj-ment of tho in-
come of his property so long as ho published nothing in
his own name. Sozzini now fixed himself at Basel, wlicr«
he gave himself to close study of tho Bible, began a poetic
version of tho Psalms, edited posthumous dialogues of
Castellio, and, in spite of his increasing deafness, Uocame ft
230
S O C I N U b
recognized centre of theological discussion. One of these
discussions was on the doctrine of salvation, with Jacques
Couet. It resulted in a bulky treatise, De Jesu Christo
(S'ervatore (finished 12th July 1578), the circulation of which
in manuscript appears to have commended his powers to
the notice of Giorgio Biandrata (1515-1588), court physician
in Transylvania, and an unscrupulous ecclesiastical ■wire-
puller.^
Transylvania had for a short time (1559-71) enjoyed
religious liberty under an antitrinitarian prince, John
Sigismund. But the existing ruler, Christopher. Bithori,
favoured the Jesuits, and it was an object with Biandrata
to limit the " Judaic " tendencies of the antitrinitarian
bishop, Francis Ddvid (1510-1579), with whom he had
previously acted. By the alleged discovery of a stain upon
Biandrata's . morals of the gravest sort his influence with
DAvid was destroyed. ' Now Sozzini's scheme of doctrine
encouraged the use of seemingly orthodox language in an
heretical sense. Christ was to be called God, and invoked
with divine honours, though without any inherent title to
such homage, but as " un Dio subaltemo, al quale in un
da to tempo il Dio supremo cedette il govern© del mondo"
(Cantii). It occurred to Biandrata that, if Sozzini could
convert the eloquent DAvid to this view, all.would be well.
Accordingly in November 1578 Sozzini reached KolozsvAr
(Klausenburg), and did his best, during a visit of four
months and a half under DAvid's roof, to teach him the
doctrine of the invocation of Christ. Though Sozzini did
not (as Biandrata desired), urge the absolute necessity of
this invocation, the result was a public explosion on DAvid's
part against the cultus of Christ in any shape or form.
His trial followed, on a charge of innovation. Sozzini
hurried off to Poland before it began. He cannot be ac-
cused of a guilty complicity with what he calls the rage of
Biandrata, for he was no party to the incarceration of
DAvid at Deva, where the old man miserably perished in
prison. But he was willing that D4vid should be prohibited
from preaching pending the decision of the controversy
by a general synod ; and his references to the case show
that (as in the later instances of Jacobo Paleologo, Christian
Franken, and Martin Seidel) theological aversions, though
they never made him uncivil, froze up his kindness and
blinded his perceptions of character. Biandrata ultimately
conformed to the Catholic Church; yet as late as 1584-
Sozzini, always constant to the leanings of friendship,
sought his patronage for his treatise De Jesu Christi l^atura,
in reply to the Calvinist Andrew Wolan. The remainder
(1579-1604) of Sozzini's life was spent in Poland. Esc!u(Jed
at first* by Lis views on baptism from the Minor or Anti-
trinitarian Church (anabaptist in its constitution), he ac-
quired by degrees a predominant influence in its synods.
He converted the Arians from their avowal of our Saviour's
pre-esistence and their refusal to honour Him by invoca-
tion ; he repressed the semi-Judaizers whom he could not
convince. Through correspondence with his friends in
official places he ruled also the policy of the Antitrinitarian
Church of Transylvania. Forced to leave Cracow in 1 583,
he found a home with- a Polish noble, Christopher Morsztyn,
whose daughter Elizabeth he married (1586). She died
in the following year, a few months after giving birth to
^ Biandrata was Sozzini's evil genius. Bora of an old family in
Piedmont and educated in France, Biandrata had attached himself to
the left wing of Protestantism, and had moved here and there among
the upper circles of the Keformed, depending for professional advance-
ment on a'«pecial knowledge of the diseases of women. Driven cast-
wards a second time in 1558 (after fomenting antitrinitarian heresy in
the Italian church of Geneva), he had for twenty years been the confi-
dential adviser of ladies of the reigning house, first in Poland and then
in Transylvania. In both countries he was a dexterous meddler in
chnrqh affairs ; his policy was the establishment of a kind of broad
church, with a confession nakedly Scriptural in its terms, and a resolute
suppressidb of all compromising extremes
a daughter, Agnese; afterwards the wife of Stanislau Wisz-
owaty. In. 1587 the grand-duke Francesco died, and to
this event Sozzini's biographers attribute the loss of hi*
Italian property. .But he was on good terms with Fiun-
cesco's successor, and might have continued to receive hi*
rents had not family disputes arisen respecting the inter-
pretation of his grandfather's will. The holy office at
Siena disinherited him" in October 1590 ; but he was
allowed a pension, which does not seem to have been paid.
The failure of supplies from Italy dissolved the compact
under which his works were to remain anonymous. He
began to publish under his own name. The consequence'
was that in 1598 a mob expelled him from Cracow, wreck-
ing his house and grossly ill-using his person. Friends gava
him a ready welcome at Luslawice, 30 miles east from
Cracow ; and here, having long been troubled with colic
and the stone, he died on 4th March 1604. A limestone
block, with illegible inscriptions, marks his grave.^
Sozzini's works, as edited by ids grandson Andrew Wiszowaty
and the learned printer F. Knyper, are contained in two closely
printed folios, Amsterdam, 1658. They are usually reckoned the
first two volumes of the Bibliothcca Fratrum Poloncrum, but iu
fact the works of GreU and Schlichting preceded them in the
series. They include all Sozzini's extant theological writings,
except his essay On, Predealinalion (in which lie denies that God
foresees 'the actions of free agents), prefixed to Castellio'i Dialogi.
IV., 1578 (reprinted 1613), and -his revisioi of a school manual.
Instrument tan DoctTinaram. Arisiotelicum, 1586. His pseudonyms,
easily interpreted, were Felix Turpio Urberetanus, Prosper Dysidaeus,
Gratianus Prosper, andGratianus Turpio Gerapolensis ( = Senensis).
Some of his early poetry will be found in FerehtiUi's Scidta di
Stanzc di Diversi Autori Toscani, 1579 (reprinted 1594) ; otber
specimens are given in Cantii, and in the Atkcnicum, lltli August
18.77. Sozzini himself considered that his Corilra Atlieos, whicli
perished in the riot at Cracow, was bis ablest work. In later life
he began, but left incomplete, more than one work intended to
exhibit his system as a whole. His reputation as a thinker must
rest on (1) his De Auctoritate S. Scripturse, and (2) his De Jesit
Christo Scrvatore. The former was first published at Seville
(1588) by Lopez, a Jesuit, who claimed it as his own, but prefixed
a preface in which, contrarj' to a fundamental position of Sozzini,
he maintains that man by nature has a knowledge of God. A
French version (1592) was approved by the ministers of Basel ;
and the English translation (1731) by Edward Coombe was under-
taken in consequence of the commendation of the work in a charge
(1728) by Bishop Smalbroke, tvho observes that Grotius had laid
it under contribution in his Dc Veritaic Christ. Bel. In a small
compass it anticipates the whole argument of the "credibility"
writere ; but in trying it by modem tests it should be remembered
that Sozzini regarded it (iu 1581) as not adequately meeting the
cardinal difficulties attending the proof of the Christian religion,
and subsequently began to reconstruct its argument in his un-
finished Lectioius Sacrie. His treatise on salvation constitutes
his main service to theology, .placing orthodoxy and heresy in new
relations of fundamental antagonism, and narrowing the conflict
to the central interest of religion. Of the person of Christ iu this,
treatise he says nothing ; he deals exclusively with the work of
Christ, which in his view operates upon man alone ; and it is by
the persistency with which this idea tends to recur that we must
estimate the theological sagacity of Sozzini. Though his name has
been attached to a school of opinion (Socinianism), he disclaimed the
role of a heresiarch, and declined to give his unreserved adhesion
to any one sect. 'The confidence with which he relied upon the
conclusions of his own mind has gained him the repute of a dogma-
tist ; but it was his constant aim to reduce and simplify the funda-
mentals .of Christianity, and it is not without ground that the
memorial tablet at Siena (inscription by Brigidi, 1879) characterizes
him as a vindicator of human reasonagainst the supernatural. Of
bis non-theological doctrines the most important is his assertion of
the unlawfulness, not only of war, but of the taking of human Ufa
in any circumstances. Hence the compararive mildness of his pro-
posals for dealing with religious offenders ; but it cannot be said
that he had grasped the full idea of toleration. Hence too his con-
tention that magisterial office is unlawful for a. Christian.
For the biography of Sozzini the best materials are his letters. ' There is au
collection in liis works ; others are given by Cantii ; some are unpublished..
Tn his correspondence he delineates himself freely, not sparing his weak points
of character or of attainment. The earliest life, prefiKed (with engraved poi^
trait) to the works, is bv Przypkowski (163C). translated into English by Eidle.
(1653). This is the foundation of the article by Bayle, the MtrMirs byTouImin.
' No trace is discovei-able on the stone of the alleged epitaph —
" Tota rait Babylon : destrnxiftecta Lutherus,
Calvinus muros, sed fundaaeuta Socinus."
s o c — s o c
231
R777), and the Life by 'Wallace (AniUrin. Bicy., 18J0, ii. 300). The sketch hy
CantA in G!i EnUci iTIuUic.. ISliG, vol. ii., gives a genealogy of the Sozzint
[needing somi^ correction)* The best defence of Sozriui in his relations jvith
i>ivld is by James Y.ltcs, in Christ. Pioneer, February 1834 ; a less (Svourable
flew Is taken by the Hungarian biographer of David (Jakab, Darid F. Emlike,
1B79)l Of his system, most generally kno^Tn through the Macoviart Cateckism,
1605 (planned by Sozzini, but chiefly carried out by others, principally Sclimalz;
translated by Ree-i, IS18), there is a special study by Fock, Der Socinianismus,
18J7. See also " The Sozzmi and their School," in Theol. Jicv., 1S79 (corrected in
Christ. Li/e, 25th August I'JSS). Use has been made above of unpublished
papers in the archives at Florence, with others in the archives, communal
library, and collection of Padre Toti at Siena. (A. GO.)
SOCORRO, a tomi of the United States, in a county
of the same name in New Mexico, 76 miles south of Albu-
q^uerquo junction on the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa F6
Railroad, is beautifully situated in the Rio Grande valley.
It is the centre of a silver and lead mining district, and
has a stamp mill and smelting-works. Fruit-growing and
cattle-breeding are prosecuted in the vicinity. The popiila-
tion, including old and new town, was about 5000 in 1887.
SOCOTRA, or Socotora (Arabic Sokotrd), an island of
the Indian Ocean, 150 miles from Cape Gardafui and
about 220 from the Arabian coast. Its length from east
to west is 71 miles, its greatest breadth 23; A plain 2
to 4 miles wide skirts the greater part of the coast, while
the interior is mountainous. The granite peaks behind
Tamarida (a village on the north coast and the chief place
in the island, but now much decayed) rise to a height of
4000 feet, and a limestone chain connected with these runs
north and south with an average height of about 1900
feet. The climate is moist, but not unhealthy, with much
rain, especially during the south-west monsoon. At this
season the temperature rises to 80° or even 95°, but on the
whole the heat is not excessive. The scenery of the island
is very striking, with bare rocky heights and fertile valleys;
but there is little cultivation, the inhabitants living mainly
by their vast flocks of sheep and goats, or on dates, home-
grown and imported. Milch cows are numerous near
Tamarida. The population is about 5000, of two distinct
types. The nomad inhabitants of the uplands are a peculiar
race, well built, with good features and long curling but not
■wooUy hair; they resemble neither the Arabs nor the
Somil. In Tamarida and other villages and towards the
eastern end of the island the population is a mixture- of
Arab, African, and other elements, even including Poitu-
gnese. The native speech is not intelligible to ordinary
Arabs, but Wellsted says that it can sometimes be made
ont by Arabs from the opposite (Mahra) coast. In fact,
according to Tbi Mojdwir and Hamd.-lnf, the Socotrans in
the Middle Ages were regarded as Mahra and spoke the
Mahra dialect. Their way of life is rude and simple in
the extreme, but they are hospitable and generally well-
behaved, though they have almost no government ; they
are nominally dependent on the sultan of Keshfn. A certain
dependence (at least of places on the coaSt) on some sove-
reign of the Arabian coast has endured for many centuries,
except during the short Portuguese occupation of Tamarida
by AJbuquerque. From 1876 to 1886 the sultan of Keshin
was bound by treaty not to cede the island to a foreign .power
or allow settlements on it without the consent of England.
In 1886 it was formally annexed by Great Britain.
The fauna and flora of Socotra are peculiar. As regards
mammalia the civet cat is found, but the ordinary wild
beasts of Arabia are unknown. The flora was studied by
Professor Bailey Balfour in 1880, and his account of it is
about to be published by tlie Royal Society of Edinburgh.
The most valuable vegetable products are now, as in the
Middle Ages, aloes and dragon's-blood. The Socotran aloes
(the French ckicotin) is esteemed the best in the world
when unadulterated. In old times the ambergris of
Socotra ^\•a3 also famous.
Socotra was known to the ancients tia the islo of Dioworiftps ;
this name, ami tint by which the island is now known, rtro usually
traced back to a Sanscrit form, Dvipa-Sakhadhaia, " tlio island
abode «f bliss," which agaiu suggests an idcutillcatiou with the I
vrjaot tCiSaJiioyes of Agatharchidcs (§ 103). The Periplus of the
Erythraean Sea speaks of the island as peopled only in one part by
a mixed race of Arab, Indian, and Greek traders. It was subject
to the king of the Incense Country, and was a raeeting-place of
Arabian and Indian ships. Cosiuas in the 6th century says that
the people spoke Greek and were largely Christian, with a bishop
sent from Persia. The Arab geographers also had a tradition of
an early Greek settlement (which they naturally ascribe to Alex-
ander), but also of later Persian influence, followed by a settlement
of llahra tribes, who partly adopted Christianity. The Socotrans
rem.iined Nestorian Christians, .with a bishop under the metro-
politan of Persia, through the Middle Ages (Assemani, B.O., ii.
459 ; comp. Mohailebi, in Abulfeda, p. 371) ; but in their isolated
position tney have gradually lost all trace of Christianity except
reverence for the cross, and practise the old South Arabian moon
worship. There was much more at least of the forms of Christ-
ianity when Europeans first vi.sited the island in the 16th century.
In the Middle Ages Socotra was a station of the Indian corsairs
wlio harassed the Arab trade with the far E?st. The population
seems then to have been much larger ; Arabian writers estimate
the fighting men at 10,000.
See, for the history of Socotra, Tple. Marco Poto, ii. 400 sq., and, besides the
authorities there cited, Y4 "'.t, s.v. ; liamddnl, p. 52 ; Kazrrinl, ii. 54. For the
state of the island at the beginning of the ISth century, sec the account of tlie
French expedition to Yemen in 170S (Viagnio nclV Arabia Felice, Venice, 1721) ;
and, for the present century, Wellsted, City o/ the Caliphs, vol. ii. (1840). For
the typography, *:c-. see Bed Sea Pilot, 2d ed., 1882.
SOCRATES, son of the statuary Sophroniscus and of
the midwife Phsenarete, was born at Athens, not earlier
than 471 nor later than May or June 469 B.C. As a youth
he received the customary instruction in gymnastic and
music ; and in after years he made himself acqjiainted with
geometry and astronomy and studied the methods and the
doctrines of the leaders of Greek thought and culture.
He began life as a sculptor ; and in the 2d century a.d. a
group of the Graces, supposed to be his work, was still to
be seen on the road to the Acropolis. But he soon aban-
doned art and gave himself to what may best be called
education, conceiving that he had a divine commission,
witnessed by oracles, dreams, and signs, not indeed to teach
any positive doctrine, but to convict men of ignorance mis-
taking itself for knowledge, and by so doing to promote
heir intellectual and moral improvement. He was on
terms of intimacy with some of the most distinguished of
his Athenian contemporaiies, and, at any rate in later life,
was personally known to very many of his fellow-citizens.
His domestic re'ations were, it is said, unhappy. The
shrewishness of his wife Xanthippe became proverbial
with the ancients, as it still is with ourselves. Aristotle,
in his remarks upon genius and its degeneracy {Rhet., ii.
15), speaks of Socrates's sons as dull and fatuous; and
in Xenophon's Memorabilia, one of them, Lamprocles, re-
ceive.i a formal rebuke for undutiful behaviour towards hia
mother..
Socrates served as a hoplite at Potidcea (432-429), where
on one occasion he saved the life of Alcibiades, at Delium
(424), and at Amphipolis (422). In these campaigns his
bravery and endurance were conspicuous. But, while he
thus performed the ordinary duties of a Greek citizen with
credit, he neither attained nor sought political position.
His "divine voice," he said, had warned bim to refrain
from politics, presumably because office would have en-
tailed the sacrifice of his principles and the abandonment
of his proper vocation. Yet in 406 he was a member of
the senate ; and on the first day of the trial of the victors
of Arginusse, being president of the prytanes, he resisted —
first, in conjunction with his colleagues, afterwards, when
they yielded, alone — the illegal and nnconstitntional pro-
posal of Callixenus, that the fate of the eight generals
should be decided by a single vote of the as.sembly. Not
less courageous than this opposition to the " civium ardor
prava jubcntium" was his disregard of the "vultiis instantis
tyranni " two years later. During the reign of terror of
404 the Thirty, anxious to implicate in their crinics men
of repute who might otherwi.'ie have opposed their plans,
ordered five citizens, one of whom was Socrates, to f,a Ui
232
SOCRATES
Salamis and briug theuee their destined victim Leon.
'Socrates alone disobeyed. But, though he was exception-
'ally obnoxious to the Thirty, — as appears, not only in this
incident, but also in their threat of punishment under a
special ordinance forbidding " the teaching of the art of
argument," — it was xeserved ior the reconstituted demo-
cracy to bring him to trial and to put him to death. In
399, four years after the restoration and the amnesty, he
was indicted as an offender against public morality. His
accusers were Meletus the poet, Anytus the. tanner, and
Lj'con the orator, all pf them members of the democratic
or patriot party who had returned from Phyle with Thrasy-
bulus. The accusation ran thus: "Socrates is guilty,
firstly, of denying the gods recognized by the state and
introducing new divinities, and secondly, of corrupting the
young." lb his unpremeditated defence, so far from seek-
ing to conciliate his judges, Socrates defied them. He was
found guilty by 280 votes, it is supposed, against 220.
Meletus having called for capital punishment, it now rested
with the accused to make a counter-proposition ; and there
can be little doubt that, had Socrates without further re-
mark suggested some smaller but yet substantial penalty,
the proposal would have been accepted. But, to the amaze?
ment of the judges and the distress of his friends, Socrates
proudly declared that for the services which he had ren-
dered to the city he deserved, not punishment, but the
reward of a public benefactor, — maintenance in the Pry-
taneum at the cost of the state ; and, although at the
close of his speech he professed himself willing to pay a
fine of one mina, and upon the urgent entreaties of his
friends raised the amount of his offer to thirty mina.'?, he
made no attempt to disguise his indifference to the result.
His attitude exasperated the judges, and the penalty of
death was decreed by an increased majority. Then in a
short address Socrates declared his contentment with his
own conduct and with the sentence. Whether death was
a dreamless sleep or a new life in Hades, where he would
have opportunities of testing the wisdom of the heroes and
the sages of antiquity, in either case he esteemed it a gain
to die. In the same spirit he refused to take advantage of
a scheme arranged by his friend Crito for an escape from
prison. Under ordinary circumstances the condemned
criirfinal drank the cup of hemlock on tTie day after the
trial ; but in the case of Socrates the rule that during
the absence of the sacred ship sent annually to Delos no
one should be put to death caused an exceptional delay.
For thirty days he remained in imprisonment, receiving
his intimates and conversing with them in his accustomed
manner. How in his last conversation he argued that
the wise man will regard approaching death with a cheer-
ful confidence Plato relates in the Phxdo ; and, while
the central argument — which rests the -doctrine of the soul's
immortality upon the theory of ideas — must be accounted
Platonic, in all othei* respects the narrative, though not
that of an eye-witness, has the air of accuracy and vruth.
But what were the personal characteristics which won
for this man, poor in worldly goods, the affectionate regard
of the best of his contemporaries ? Why was it that the
Athenians, forgetting his loyal performance of civic duties,
his virtuous life, and his disinterested anxiety for their
welfare, brought him to trial, condemned him, put him to
death ? What were the principles upon which • his teach-
ing rested, and what was the message which, instant in
season, out of season, he carried to his countrymen ? How
were his principles interpreted by his followers, and what
influence did his teaching exert upon subsequent specula-
tion ? These are the questions which demand considera-
tion in the present ariicle.
Happily, though Socrates left no writings behind him;
and indeed, as will hereafter appear, was by his principles
precluded from dogmatic exposition, we have in the
' ATTOfiv-qiJLovfvixara or Memoirs and other works of Xen<v
phon records of Socratesis conversation, and in the dialogues
of Plato refined applications of his method. Xenophon,
having no philosophical views of his own to develop, and
no imagination to lead him astray, — being, in fact, to
Socrates what Bos well was to Johnson, — is an excellent
witness. The ' Airo jxvriij.ovevfi.aTa or Memorabilia are in-
deed confesiedly apologetic, and it is easy to see that
nothing is intrpduced -which might embitter those who,
hating Socrates, were ready to persecute the Socratics ; but
the plain, straightforward narrative of Socrates's talk, on
many occasions, with many dissimilar interlocutors, carries
with-it in its simplicity and congruity the evidence of sub-
stantial justice and truth. Plato; though he understood
his master better, is a less trustworthy authority, as ha
makes Socrates the mouthpiece of his own more advanced
and even antagonistic doctrine. Yet to all appearance
the Apology is a careful and exact account of Socrates's
habits and principles of action ; the earlier dialogue's, those
which are commonly called "Socratic," represent, with
s'jch changes only as are necessitated Ijy their form,
Socrates's method ; and, if in the later and more important
dialogues the doctrine is the doctrine of Plato, echoes of
the master's teaching are still discoverable, approving
themselves as such by their accord with the Xenophontean
testimony. In the faee of these two principal witnesses
other evidence is of small importance.
Personal Characteristics.— WhdA, then, were the personal
characteristics of the man ? Outwardly his presence was
mean and his countenance "grotesque. Short of stature,
thick -necked, and somewhat corpulent, with nrominent
eyes, with nose upturned and nostrils outspread, with lasge
mouth and coarse lips, he seemed the embodiment of sensu-
ality and even stupidity. Inwardly he •was, as his friends
knew, "so pious that he did nothing without taking
counsel of the gods, so just' that he never did an injury
to any man, whilst he was the benefactor of his associates,
so temperate that he never preferred pleasure to right,' so
wise that in judging of good and evil he 'was never at
fault, — in a word, the best and the happiest of men."
" His self-control was absolute ; his po'wers of endurance
were unfailing ; he had so schooled himself to moderation
that his scanty means satisfied all his wants." " To waut
nothing," he said himself, " is divine ; to want as little as
possible is the nearest possible approach " to the divine
life"; and accordingly he practised temperance and self-
denial to a degree which some thought ostentatious and
affected. Yet the hearty enjoyment of social pleasures
was another of his marked characteristics ; for to abstain
from innocent gratification from fear of falling into excess
would have seemed to him to imply eifher a pedantic
formalism or a lack of real self-control. In short, his
strength of will, if by its very perfection it led to hia
theoretical identification of 'vi?tue and knowledge, -secured
him in practice against the ascetic extravagances of his
associate Antisthenes..
The intellectual gifts of Socrrt.es were hardly less re
markable than his moral virtues. Naturally observant,
acute, and thoughtful, he developed these qualities by
constant and systematic use; The exercise of the mental
powers was, he conceived, no mere occupation of leisure
hours, but rather a sacred and ever-present duty ; because,
moral error being intellectual error translated into act, he
who would live virtuously must first rid himself of ignor-
ance and folly. He had, it may be conjectured, but little
turn for philosophical speculation ; yet by the careful
study of the ethical problems which met him in himself
and in others he acquired a remarkable tact in dealing
with questions of practical morality ; and in the course of
SOCRATES
233
ihe lifelong war which he waged against vagueness of
thought and laxity of speech he made himself a singularly
Apt and ready reasoner.
While he regarded the improvement, not only of himself
but also of others, as a task divinely appointed to him,
there was in his demeanour nothing exclusive or pharisai-
cal. On the contrary, deeply conscious of his own limita-
j;ions and infirmities, he felt and cherished a profound
sympathy with erring humanity, and loved with a love
passing the lovo of women fellow-men who had not learnt,
as he had done, to overcome human frailties and weak-
nesses. Nevertheless great wrongs roused in him a
righteous indignation which sometimes found expression
in fierce and angry rebuke. Indeed it would seem that
Plato in his idealized portrait gives his hero credit not
only for a deeper philosophical insight but also for a
greater urbanity than facts warranted. Hence, whilst
those who knew him best met his affection with a regard
equal to his own, there were, as will be seen hereafter,
some who never forgave his stern reproofs, and many who
regarded him as an impertinent busybody.
He was a true patriot. Deeply sensible of his debt to
the city in which he had been born and bred, he thought
that in giving his life to the spread of sounder views in
regard to ethical and political subjects he made no more
than an imperfect return ; and, when in the exercise of
constitutional authority that city brought him to trial and
threatened him with death, it was not so much his local
attachment, strong though that sentiment Avas, as rather
his sense of duty which forbade him to retire into exile
before the trial began, to acquiesce in a sentence of banish-
ment when the verdict had been given against him, and
to accept the opportunity of escape which was ofi'ered him
during his imprisonment. Yet his patriotism had none of
the narrowness which was characteristic of the patriotism
of his Greek contemporaries. His generous benevolence
and unaffected philanthropy taught him to overstep the
limits of the Athenian demus and the Hellenic race, and
to regard himself as a " citizen of tlie world."
He was blest with an all-pervading humour, a subtle
but kindly appreciation of the incongruities of human
nature and conduct. In a less robu.st character this
quality might have degenerated' into sentimentality or
cynicism ; in Socrates, who had not a trace of either, it
showed itself principally m what his contemporaries know
as his "accustomed irony." Profoundly sensible of the in-
consistencies of his own thoughts and words and actions,
and shrewdly suspecting that the like inconsistencies were
to be found in other men, he was careful always to place
himself upon the standpoint of ignorance and to invite
others to join him there, in order that, proving all things,
he and they might hold fast that which is good. " Intel-
lectually the acutcst man of his age," says W. H. Thompson
in a brilliant and instructive appendix to his edition of
Plato's Phsedrus, " he represents himself in all companies
as the dullest person present. Morally the purest, ho
jiffects to be the slave of passion, and borrows the language
of gallantry to describe a benevolence too exalted for tlu
comprehension of his contemporaries. He is by turns an
f/>a(rT»5s, a Trpoayojyos-, a jiaa-TpoTroi, a /naifvTtKOj, disguising
the sanctity of his true vocation by names suggestive of
vile or ridiculous images. The same spirit of whimsical
paradox leads him, in Xcnophon's BamjiiH, to argue that
his own satyr-like visage was superior in beauty to that of
the handsomest man present. That this irony was to
some extent calculated is more than probable ; it disarmed
ridicule by anticipating it ; it allayed jealousy and propi-
tiated envy ; and it possibly procured him admission into
gay circles from wliich a more solemn teacher would have
been excluded. But it had for its basis a real greatness
of soul, a hearty and unaffected disregard of public opinion,
a perfect disinterestedness,' an entire abnegation of self.
He made himself a fool that others by his folly might be
made wise; he humbled himself to the level of those
amohg whom his work lay that he might raise some few
among them to his own level; he was 'all things to all
men, if by any means he might win some.' " It would
seem that this humorous depreciation of his own great
qualities, this pretence of being no better than his neigh-
bours, led to grave misapprehension amongst his contem-
poraries. That it was the foundation of the sland«rs of
the Peripatetic Aristoxenus can hardly be doubted.
Socrates was further a man of sincere and fervent piety.
"No one," says Xenophon, "ever knew of his doing or
saying anything profane or unholy." Tliere was indeed
in the popular mythology much which he could not accept.
It was incredible, he argued, that the gods should have
committed acts which would be disgraceful in the worst of
men. Such stories, then, must be regarded as the inventions
of lying poets. But, when he had thus purified the con-
temporary polytheism, he was able to reconcile it with his
own steadfast belief in a Supreme Being, the intelligent
and beneficent Creator of the universe, and to find in the
national ritual the means of satisfying his religious aspira-
tions. For proof of the existence of "the divine," he
appealed to the providential arrangement of nature, to the
universality of the belief, and to the revelations and warn-
ings which are given to men through signs and oracles.
Thinking that the soul of man partook of the divine, he
maintained the doctrine of its immortality as an article of
faith, but not of knowledge. While he held that, the
gods alone knowing what is for man's benefit, man should
pray, not for particular goods, but only for that which is
good, he was regular in prayer and punctual in sacrifice.
He looked to oracles and signs for guidance in those
matters, and in those mattecs only, which could not be
resolved by experience and judgment, and he further
supposed himself to receive special warnings of a mantic
character through what hecalled his "divine sign"(6a(Moi'toi',
Sat/idi'ioi' <Trijj.itov).
Socrates's frequent references to his " divine sign " were, says
Xenophon, the origin of the charge of " introducing new divinities"
brought against him by his accusers, and in early Christian times,
amongst Neoplatonic philosophers and fathers of the church, gave
rise to the notion tliat he supposed himself to bo attciidcd by a
"genius" or "dasmon." Similarly in our own day spiritualists
have attributed to him the belief — whioh they justify — in "an
intelligent spiritual being who accompanied him through life, — in
other words, a guardian spirit " (A. K. Wallace). But the very pre-
cise testimony of Xenophon and Plato shows plainly that Socrates
did not regard, his " customary sign " cither as a divinity or as a
genius. According to Xenophon, the sign was a warning, either to
do or not to do which it would be folly to neglect, not superseding
ordinary prudence, but dealing with those uncertainties in respect
of which other men found guidance in oracles and tokens ; Socrates
believed in it profoundly, and never disobeyed it. According to
I'lalo, the sign was a "voice" which \vr\rned Socrates to refrain from
some act which he contemplated ; he heard it frequently and on
the most trifling occasions ; the phenomenon dated from his early
years, and was, so far as he knew, peculiar to himself. These
statements have been variously interpreted. Thus it has been
maintained that, in laying claim to supernatural revelations,
Socrates (1) committed a pious fraud, (2) indulged his "accustomeil
irony," (3) recognized the voice of conscience, (4) indicated a general
belief in a divine mission, (5) described " the inward voice of his
individual tact, which in consequence partly of his experience and
penetration, partly of his knowledge of himself and exact apprecia-
tion of what was in harmony with his individuality, had attained
to an unusual accuracy " (61 was mad ("etait fou"), being siilijcct
not only to hallucinations of sense but also to aberrations of reason.
.Xcnoplion's testimony that Socrates was plainly sincere in his
belief excludes *he first and the second of these theories ; the char.
actcr of the w'arnings given, which are always concerned, not with
the moral worth of actions, but with their uncertain results, warrants
the rejection of the third and the fourth ; the fifth, while it sulli-
cicntly accounts for the matter of the warning, leaves unexplained
the sixth, while it plausibly ex-
its manner, the vocal utterance ;
WII.
234
SOCRATES
plains tlie manuer of tlie warning, goes beyond the facts when it
attributes to it irrationality of matter. It remains for us, then,
modifying the fifth hypothesis, that of Diderot, Zeller, and others,
and the sixth, that of Lelut and Lithe, and combining the two, to
suppose that Socrates was subject, not indeed to delusions of mind,
but to hallucinations of tlie sense of hearing, so that the rational
suggestions of his own brain, exceptionally valuable iri consequence
of "the accuracy and delicacy of his highly cultivated tact, seemed to
him to be projected without him, and to be returned to him through
the outward ear. It ajipears that, though in some of the best
known instances — for example, those of Cowper and Sidney
Walker— hallucinations of the sense of hearing, otherwise closely
resembling Socrates's " divine sign,"- have been accompanied b^
partial dei-angement of reason, cases are not wanting in which
"the tlioughts transformed into external sensorial impi-essions "
are perfectly rational.
The eccentricity of Socrates's life was not less remark-
able than the oddity of his appearance and the irony of his
conversation. His whole time was spent in public, — in the
market-place, the streets, the gymnasia. Thinking with
Dr Johnson that "a great city is the school for studying
life," he had no liking for the country, and seldom passed
the gates. "Fields and trees," Plato makes him say,
" won't teach me anything ; the life of the streets wUL"
He talked to all comers, — to the craftsman and the artist
13 willingly as to the poet or the politician, — questioning
them about their affairs, about the processes of their several
occupations, about their notions of morality, in a word,
about familiar matters in which they might be expected to
take an interest. The ostensible purpose of these inter-
rogatories was to test, and thus either refute or explain,
the famous oracle which had pronounced him the wisest of
men. Conscious of his own ignorance, he had at first
imagined that the God was mistaken. When, however,
experience showed that those who esteemed themselves
wise were unable to give an account of their knowledge, he
had to admit that, as the oracle had said, he was wiser
than others, in so far as, whilst they, being ignorant, sup-
posed themselves to know, he, being ignorant, was aware
of his ignorance. Such, according to the Apology, was
Socrates's account of his procedure and its results. But
it is easy to see that the statement is coloured by the accus-
tomed irony. 'When in the same speech Socrates tells his
judges that he would never from fear of death or any
other motive disobey the command of the god, and that,
if they put him to death, the loss would be, not his, but
theirs, since they would not readily find any one to take
his place, it becomes plain that he conceived himself to
hold a commission to educate, and was consciously seeking
the intellectual and moral irnprovement of his countrymen.
His end could not be achieved without the sacrifice of self.
His meat and drink were of the poorest ; summer and
winter his coat was the same ; he was shoeless and shirt-
less. " A slave whose master made him live as you do," says
a sophist in the Memorabilia, "would run away." But
by the surrender of the luxuries and the comforts of life
Socrates secured for himself the independence which was
necessary that he might go about his appointed business,
and therewith he was content.
His message was to all. but it was variously received.
Those who heard him perforce and occasionally were apt
to regard his teaching either with indifference or with irri-
tation,— with indifference if, as might' be, they failed to
^ee in the ele'nchus anything more than elaborate trifling ;
with irritation if, as was probable, they perceived that, in
spite of his assumed ignorance, Socrates was well aware of
the result to which their enforced answers tended. Amongst
those who deliberately sought and sedulously cultivated
his acquaintance there were some who attached themselves
to him as they might have attached themselves to any
ordinary sophist, conceiving that by temporary contact
with so acute a reasoner they would best prepare them-
selves for the logomachies of the law courts, the assembly,
and the senate. Again, there were others who saw in
Socrates at once master, counsellor, and friend, and hoped
by associating with him " to become good men and true,
capable of doing their duty by house and household, by
relations and friends, by city and fellow-citizens " (Xen»-
phon). Finally, there was a little knot of intimates who,
having something of Socrates's enthusiasm, entered more
deeply than the rest into his principles, and, when he died,
transmitted them to the next generation. Yet even those
who belonged to this inner circle were united, not by any
common doctrine, but by a common admiration for their
master's intellect and character.
For the paradoxes of Socrates's personality and the
eccentricity of his behaviour, if they offended the many,
fascinated the few. " It is not easy for a man in my con-
dition," says the intoxicated Alcibiades in Plato's Si/m-
posium, "to describe the singularity of Socrates's character.
But I will try to tell his praises in similitudes. He .ia
like the piping Silenes in the statuaries' shops, which,
when you open them, are found to contain images of gods.
Or, again, he is like the satyr JIarsyas, not only in out-
ward appearance — that, Socrates, you will yourself allows
but in other ways also. Like him, you are given to frolic,
— I can produce evidence to that ; and, above . all, like
him,. you are a wonderful musician. Only there is this
difference, — what he does with the help of his instrument
you do with mere words ; for whatsoever man, woman, or
child hears you, or even a feeble report of what you have
said, is struck with awe and possessed with admiration.
As for myself, were I not afraid that you would think me
more drunk than I am, I would tell you on oath how his
words have moved me, — ay, and how they move me stitlj
'When I listen to him my heart beats with a more than
Corybantic excitement ; he has only to speak and my
tears flow. Orators, such as Pericles, never moved me in
this way, — never roused my soul to the thought of my
servile condition ; but this JIarsyas makes me think that
life is not worth living so long as J. am what I am. Even
now, if I were to listen, I could not resist. So there is
nothing for me but to stop my ears against this siren's
song and fly for my life, that I may not grow old sitting
at his feet. No one would think that I had any shame
in me ; but I am ashamed in the presence of Socrates."
Tke Accusation and its Causes.^ — The life led by Socrates'
vra,s not likely to win for him either the affection or the
esteem of the vulgar. Those who did not know him per-'
sonaliy, seeing him with the eyes of the comic poets, con-
ceived him as a " visionary" (peTetDpoKoyo?) and a " bore",
(dSoAf'crx'??). Those who had faced him in argument, even
if they had not smarted under his rebukes, had at any rate
winced under his interrogatory, and regarded him in con-
sequence with feelings of dislike and fear. But the eccen-
tricity of his genius and the ill-will borne towards him by,
individuals are not of themselves sufficient to account for
the tragedy of 399. It thus becomes necessary to study
the circumstances of the trial, and to investigate the
motives which led the accusers to seek his death and the
people of Athens to acquiesce in it.
Socrates was accused (1) of denying the gods recog-
nized by the state and introducing instead of them strange
divinities (Saipovia), and (2) of corrupting the young.
The first of these charges rested upon the notorious fact
that he supposed himself to be guided by a divine visitant
or sign (Saipovtov). The second, Xenophon tells us, was
supported by a series of particular allegation.?, — (a) that he
taught his associates to despise the institutions of the state,
and especially election by lot ; (6) that he had numbered
amongst his associates Critias and Alcibiades, the most
dangerous of the representatives of the oligarchical and
democratical parties respectively ; (c) that he taught th^
SOCRATES
235
young to disobey parents and guardians and to prefer Lis
own authority to theirs j (d) that he was in the habit of
quoting mischievous passages of Homer and Hesiod to the
prejudice of morality and democracy.
^ It is plain that the defence was not calculated to con-
ciliate a hostile jury. Nevertheless, it is at first sight
difficult to understand how an adverse rerdict became
possible. If Socrates rejected portions of the conventional
mythology, he accepted the established faith and performed
its offices with exemplary regularity. If he talked of a
iat/j.ovi.ov, the Sat/jLoviov was no new divinity, but a mantic
sign divinely accorded to him, presumably by the gods of
the state. If he questioned the propriety of certain of
the institutions of Athens, he was prepared to yield an un-
hesitating obedience to all. He had never countenanced
the misdeeds of Critias and Alcibiades, and indeed, by a
sharp censure, had earned the undying hatred of one of
them. Duty to parents he inculcated as he inculcated
other virtues ; and, if he made the son wiser than the
father, surely that was not a fault. The citation of a few
lines from the poets ought not to weigh against the clear
evidence of his large-hearted patriotism ; and it might be
suspected that the accuser had strangely misrepresented
ihis application of the familiar words.
To the modern reader Xenophon's reply, of which the
iforegoing paragraph is in effect a summary, "^-ill prob-
ably seem sufficient, and more than sufficient. But it
must not be forgotten that Athenians of the old school
approached the subject from an entirely different point of
view. Socrates was in all things an innovator, — in reli-
gion, inasmuch as he sought to eliminate from the theology
of his contemporaries " those lies which poets tell " ; in
politics, inasmuch as he distrusted several institutions dear
to Athenian democracy ; in education, inasmuch as he
■\vaged war against authority, and in a certain sense made
each man the measure of his own actions. It is because
Socrates was an innovator that we, who see in him the
founder of philosophical inquiry, regard him as a great
man ; it was because Socrates was an innovator that old-
fashioned Athenians, who saw in the new-fangled culture
the origin of all their recent distresses and disasters, re-
garded him as a great criminal. It is, then, after all in no
wise strange that a majority was found first to pronounce
bim guilty, and afterwards, when he refused to make any
submission and professed himself indifferent to any miti-
gation of the penalty, to pass upon him the sentence of
death. That the verdict and the sentence were not in any
way illegal is generally acknowledged.
But, though the popular distrust of eccentricity, the irri-
tation of individuals and groups of individuals, the attitude
■of Socrates himself, and the prevalent dislike of the intel-
lectual movement v/hicb he represented go far to account
lor the result of the trial, they do not explain the occr-'sion
of the attack. Socrates's oddity and brusquerio_ were
no new things; yet in the past, though they had made
him unpopular, they had not brought him into the courts.
His sturdy resistance to the demua in 40G and to the
Thirty ia 404 had passed, if not unnoticed, at all events
unpunished. His political heresies and general unortho-
doxy had not caused him to be excluded from the amnesty
of 403. Why was it, then, that in 399, when Socrates's
idiosyncrasies were more than ever familiar, and when the
constitution had been restored, the toleration hitherto ex-
tended to him was withdrawn ? What were the special
circumstances which induced three members of the patriot
party, two of them leading politicians, to unite their efforts
against one who apparently was so little formitlable?
For an answer to this question it is necessary to look
to the history of Athenian politics. Besides the oligarchical
(larty, properly .so called, which in 41 1 was represented by
the Four Hundred and in 404 by the Thirty, and the de-
mocratical party, which returned to power in 410 and in
403, there was at Athens during the last years of the
Peloponnesian War a party of "moderate oligarchs,"
antagonistic to both. It was to secure the cooperation of
the moderate party that the Four Hundred in 41 1 promised
to constitute the Five Thousand, and that the Thirty in
404 actually constituted the Three Thousand. It was ifl
the hope of realizing the aspirations of the moderate party
that Theramenes, its most prominent representative, alliea
himself, first with the Four Hundred, afterwards with the
Thirty. In 41 1 the policy of Theramenes was temporarily
successful, the Five Thousand superseding the Four Hun-
dred. In 404 the Thirty outwitted him ; for, though they
acted upon his advice so far as to constitute the Three
Thousand, they were careful to keep all real power in their
own hands. But on both occasions the " polity" — for such,
in the Aristotelian sense of the term, the constitution of
411-410 was, and the constitution of 404-403 professed to
be — was insecurely based, so that it was not long before
the " unmixed democracy " was restored. The programme
of the "moderates" — which included (1) the limitation of
the franchise, by the exclusion of those who were unable
to provide themselves with the panoply of a hoplite and
thus to render to the city substantial service, (2) the
abolition of payment for the performance of political
functions, and, as it would seem, (3) the disuse of the lot
in the election of magistrates — found especial favour with
the intellectual class. Thus Alcibiades and Antiphon were
amongst its promoters, and Thucydides commends the con-
stitution established after the fall of the Four Hundred as
the best which in his time Athens had enjoyed. Now it
is expressly stated that Socrates disliked election by lot ;
it is certain that, regarding paid educational service as a
species of prostitution, he would account paid political
service not a whit less odious ; and the stress laid by the
accuser upon the Homeric quotation (Iliad, ii. 188-202)
— which ends with the lines Sat/iovt,', arpifxa^ tJcto, koI
aAAwv ixvdov aicove oi creo ipcpTepol ciVi • crv 8'a?rTdAc/ios Kdl
ai'aAKis, oi3t£ ttot iv iroAejuo) (vapW/Jno'S ovt fvl fSovX'i] —
becomes intelligible if we may suppose that Socrates, like
Theramenes, wished to restrict the franchise to those who
were rich enough to serve as hoplites at their own expense.
Thus, as might have been anticipated, Socrates was a
" moderate," and the treatment which he received from
both the extreme parties suggests — even if with Grote we
reject the story told by Diodorus (xiv. 5), how, when Thera-
menes was dragged from the altar, Socrates attempted a
rescue — that_ his sympathy with the moderate party was
pronounced and notorigus. Even in the moment of demo-
cratic triumph the "moderates" made themselves heard,
Phormisius proposing that those alone should exercise the
franchise who possessed land in Attica ; and it is reason-
able to suppose that their position was stronger in 399 than
in 403. These considerations seem to indicate an easy
explanation of the indictment of Socrates by the democratic
politicians. It was a blow struck at the " moderates,"
Socrates being singled out for attack because, though not a
professional politician, he was the very type of the malcon-
tent party, and had done much, proljably more than any
man living, to make and to foster views which, if not in
the strict sense of the terra oligarchical, were confessedly
hostile to the " unmixed democracy." His eccentricity and
heterodoxy, as well as the personal animosities whicii ho
had provoked, doubtless contributed, as his accusers had
foreseen, to bring about the conviction; but, in the judg-
ment of the present writer, it was the fear of what may Ijo
called " philosophical radicalism " which prompted the
action of Helctus, Anytus, and Lycon. The result diil not
disappoint their expectations. The friends of Socrates
236
SOCRATES
abandoned the struggle and retired into exile ; and, when
they returned to Athens, the most prominent of them, Plato,
was careful to confine himself to theory, and to announce
in emphatic terms his withdrawal from the practical politics
of his native city.
Method and Doctrine. — Socrates was not a "philosopher," nor
yet a " teacher," but rather an "educator," having for his function
" to rouse, persuade, and rebuke " (Plato, Apology, 30 E). Hence,
in examining his life's work it is proper to ask, not What was his
philosophy ? but What was his theory, and what was his practice,
of education ? It is true that he was brought to his theory of
education by the study of previous philosophies, and that his
practice led to the Platonic revival ; but to attribute to hira
philosophy, except in that loose sense in which philosophy is
aseribol fp one who, denying the existence of such a thing, can
give an account of his disbelief, is misleading and even erroneous.
Socrates's theory of education had for its basis a profound and
consistent scepticism ; that is to say, he not only rejected the con-
flicting theories of the physicists, — of whom "some conceived
existence as a unity, others as a plurality ; some affirmed perpetual
motion, others perpetual rest ; some declared becoming and perish-
ing to be universal, others altogether denied such things, ' — but
also condemned, as' a futile attempt to transcend the limitations of
human intelligence, their <l>i\oai)tpia, their " pursuit of knowledge
for its own sake." Unconsciously, or more probably consciously,
Socrates rested his scepticism upon the Protagorean doctrine that
man is the measure of his own sensations and feelings ; whence he
inferred, not only that knowledge such as the philosophers had
sought, certain knowledge of nature and its laws, was unattainable,
but also that neither he nor any other person had authority to
overbear the opinions of another, or power to convey instruction
to one who had it not. Accordingly, whereas Protagoras and others,
abandoning physical speculation and coming forward as teachers of
culture, claimed for themselves in this new field power to instruct
and authority to dogmatize, Socrates, unable to reconcile himself
to this inconsistency, proceeded with the investigation of prin-
ciples until he found a resting-place, a' iroD o-tw, in the distinction
between good and evU. While all opinions were equally true, of
those opinions which were capable of being translated into act
soine, he conceived, were as working hypotheses more serviceable
than others. It was here that the function of such a one as him-
self began. Though he had neither the right nor the power to
force his opinions upon another,' he might by a systematic inter-
rogatory lead another to substitute a better opinion for a worse,
just as a physician by appropriate remedies may enable his patient
to substitute a healthy sense of taste for a morbid one. To ad-
minister such an interrogatory and thus to be the physician of
souls was, Socrates thought, his divinely appointed duty ; and,
when he described himself as a "talker" or "converser," he not
only negatively distinguished himself from those who, whether
phili^sophers or sophists, called themselves "teachers " (SiSdo-xaXoi),
but also positively indicated the method of question and answer
(SiaXiKTm-fi) which he consistently preferred and habitually practised.
That it was in this way that Socrates was brought to regard
"dialectic," "question and answer," as the only admissible method
of education is, in the opinion of the present writer, no matter of
mere conjecture. In the review of theories of knowledge which
has come down to us in Plato's Thesstetus mention is made (172 B)
of certain "incomplete Protagorsans," who held that, while all
impressions are equally true, one impression is better than another,
and that the " wise nhan " is one who by his arguments causes good
impressions to take the place of bad ones, thus reforming the soul
of the individual or the laws of a state by a process similar to that
pf the physician or.the farmer(166 D sq.) ; and these " incomplete
Protagoreans " are identified Tyith Socrates and the Socratics by
their insistence (167 D) upon the characteristically Socratic distinc-
tion between disputation and dialectic, as well as by other familiar
traits of Socratic converse. In fact, this passage becomes intel-
ligible and significant if it is supposed to refer to the historical
Socrates; and by teaching us to regard him as an "incomplete
Protagorean " it supplies the link which connects his philosophical
scepticism with his dialectical theory of education. It is no doubt
possible that 'Socrates was unaware of the closeness of his rela-
tionship to Protagoras ; but the fact, once stated, hardly admits of
(juestion.
In the application of the "dialectical" or "maieutic" method
two processes are distinguishable. — the destructive process, by which
the worse opinion was eradicated, and the constructive process, by
which the better opinion was induced. In general it was not
mere " ignorance" with which Socrates had to contend, but "ignor-
ante mistaking itself for knowledge " or "false conceit of wisdom," —
a more stubborn and a more formidable foe, who, safe so long as he
remaiijed in his entrenchments, must be drawn from them, circum-
vented, anil surprised. Accordingly, taking his departure from
some aj'parently remote principle or proposition to which the re-
spondent yielded a ready assent, Socrates would draw from it aa
unexpected but undeniable consequence which was plainly incon-
sistent with the opinion impugned. In this way he brought )iis
interlocutor to pass judgment upon himself, and reduced him to a
state of "doubt" or "perplexity" (diropja). "Before I ever met
you," says Meno in the dialogue which Plato called by his name^
(79 E), " I was told that you spent your time in doubting and lead-*
ing others to doubt ; and it is a fact that your witcheries and spells
have brought me to that condition ; you are like the torpedo : aa
it benumbs any one who approaches and touches it, so do yotL
For myself, my soul and my tongue are benumbed, so that 1 have
no answer to give you." Even if, as often happened, the respond-
ent, baffled and disgusted by the eXf/xos or destructive process, at
this point withdrew from the inquiry, he had, in Socrates's judg-
ment, gained something ; for, whereas formerly, being ignorant, he
had supposed himself to have knowledge, now, being ignorant, he
was in some sort conscious of his ignorance, and accordingly would
be for the future more circumspect in action. If, however, having
been thus convinced of ignorance, the respondent did not shrink
from a new effort, Socrates was ready to aid him by further ques-
tions of a suggestive sort. Consistent thinking with a view to con-
sistent action being the end of the inquiry, Socrates would direct
the respondent's attention to instances analogous to that in hand,
and so lead him to frame for himself a generalization from which
the passions and the prejudices of the moment were, as far as might
be, excluded. In. this constructive process, though the element ol
surprise was no longer necessary, the intenogative form was studi-
ously preserved, because it Secured at each step the conscious and
responsible assent of the learner.
Of the two processes of the dialectical method, the ^Xt-yxM o*
destructive process attracted the more attention, both in conse-
quence of its novelty and because many of those who willingly of
unwillingly submitted to it stopped short at the stage of "perplex*
ity." But to Socrates and his intimates the constructive process
was the proper and necessary sequel. It is true that in the dia-
logues of Plato the desh'uctive process is not always, or even ofter,
followed by construction, and that in the Memorabilia of Xenophon
construction is not always, or even often, preceded by the destrac-
tive process. There is, however, in this nothing surprising. O^
the one hand, Xenophon, having for his 'principal purpose .tht.
defence of his master against vulgar calumny, seeks to show by
effective examples the excellence of his positive teaching, and
accordingly is not careful to distinguish, still less to emphasize, the
negative procedure. On the other hand, Plato's aim being not so-
much to preserve Socrates's positive teaching as rather by written
words to stimulate the reader to self-scrutiny, just as the spoken
words of the master had stimulated the hearer, he is compelled
by the very nature of his task to keep the constructive element
in the background, and, where Socrates would have drawn an un-
mistakable conclusion, to confine himself to enigmatical hints. For
example, when we compare Xenophon 's Memorabilia, iv. 6, 2-4,
with Plato's Euthypkro, we note that, while in the former the in-
terlocutor is led by a few suggestive questions to define " piety"
as "the knowledge of those laws which afe concerned with th»
gods," in the latter, though on a further scrutinyJt appears that
"piety" is "that part of justice which is conceVned- with the
service of the gods," the conversation is ostensibly inconclusive.
In short, Xenophon, a mere reporter of Socrates's .conversations,
gives the results, but troubles himself little about the steps which
led to them ; Plato, who in early manhood was an educator of the
Socratic type, withholds the results that he may secure the advan-
tages of the elenctic stimulus.
What, then, were the positive conclusions to which Socrates
carried his hearers ? and how were those positive conclusions
obtained ? Turning to Xenophon for an answer to these questions,
we note (1) that the recorded conversations are concerned with
practical action, political, moral, or artistic ; (2) that in general
there is a process from the known to the unknown through a
generalization, expressed or implied ; (3) that the generalizations
are sometimes rales of conduct, justified by examination of known
instances, sotnetimes definitions similarly established. Thus, in
Memorabilia, iv. 1, 3, Socrates argues from the known instances of
horses and dogs that the best natures stand most in need of training,
and then applies the generalization to the instance under discus-
sion, that of men ; and in iv. 6, 13-14, he leads his interlocutor
to a definition of "the good citizen," and then uses it to decide
between two citizens for whom respectively superiority is claimed.
Now in the former of these cases the process — which Aristotle
would describe as "example" (ira/iiSeiy^o), and a modern might
regard as "induction" of an uncritical sort — sufficiently explains
itself. The conclusion is a provisional assurance that in tho
particular matter in hand a certain course of action is, or is not, to-
be adopted. But it is necessary to say a word of explanation about
the latter case, in which, the generalization being a definition,
that is to say, a declaration that to a given term the interlocutor
attaches in general a specified meaning, the conclusion is a pro-
visional assurance, that thi interlocutor maj', or may not, withr
SOCRATES
2? 7
cut falling into inconsistency, apply the term in question to a
t;ertain person or act. Moral error, Socrates conceived, is largely
due to the misapplication of general terms, which, once affixed to
a person.or to an act, possibly in a moment of passion or prejudice,
too often stand in the way of sober and careful reflection. It was
in order to exclude error of this sort that Socrates insisted upon rd
ipi^(a0ai KaffiXov with iwaxTiKol Xi^oi for its basis. By requiring a
definition and the reference to it of the act or person in question,
he sought to secure in the individual at any rate consistency of
thought, and, in so far, consistency of action. Accordingly he
spent his life in seeking and helping others to seek "the what"
(tA tO, or the definition, of tho various words by which the moral
quality of actions is described, valuing the results thus obtained,
not as contributions to knowledge, but as means to right action in
the multifarious relations of life.
While, however, Socrates sought neither knowledge, which in
the strict sense of the word he held to be unattainable, nor yet,
except as a means to right action, true opinion, the results of ob-
servation accumulated until they formed, not perhaps a system of
ethics, but at any rate a body of ethical doctrine. Himself blessed
with a will so powerful that it moved almost without friction, he
fell into the error of ignoring its operations, and was thus led to
regard knowledge as the sole condition of well-doing. Where there
is knowledge, — that is to say, practical Wisdom (^pin/iris), the only
knowledge which he recognized, — right action, he conceived, fol-
lows of itself ; for no one knowingly prefers what is evil ; and, if
there are cases in which men seem to act against knowledge, the
inference to be draivn is, not that knowledge and wrongdoing are
compatible, but that in the cases in question the supposed know-
ledge was after all ignorance. Virtue, then, is knowledge, knowledge
at once of end and of means irresistibly realizing itself in act.
Whence it follows that the several virtues which are commonly dis-
tinguished are essentially one. "Piety," "justice," "courage,"
and " temperance " are the names which " wisdom " bears in ditfer-
cnt spheres of action : to be pious is to know what is due to the
gods ; to be just is to know what is due to men ; to be courageous
IS to know what is to be feared and what is not ; to be temperate
is to know how to use what is good and avoid what is evil.
Further, inasmuch as virtue is knowledge, it can be acquired \^
education and training, though it is certain that one soul has by
nature a greater aptitude than another for such acquisition.
But, if virtue is knowledge, what has this knowledge for its object ?
To this question Socrates replies. Its object is the Good. What,
then, is the Good ? It is the useful, the advantageous. Utility, the
immediate utility of the individual, thus becomes the measure of
conduct and the foundation of all moral rule and legal enactment.
Accordingly, each precept of which Socrates delivers himself is re-
commended on the ground that obedience to it will promote the
pleasure, the comfort, the advancement, the wellbeing of the indi-
vidual ; and Prodicus's apologue of the Choice of Heracles, with its
commonplace offers of worldly reward, is accepted as an adequate
Statement of the motives of virtuous action. Of the graver diffi-
culties of ethical theory Socrates has no conception, having, as it
would seem, so perfectly absorbed the lessons of what Plato calls
"political virtue" that morality has become with him a second
nature, and the scrutiny of its credentials from an external stand-
point has ceased to be possible. His theory is indeed so little
systematic that, whereas, as haa been seen, viiiue or msdom has
tne Good for its object, he sometimes identifies the Good with virtue
or wisdom, thus falling into the error which Plato {Republic, vi.
605 C), perhaps with distinct reference to Socrates, ascribes to
certain "cultivated thinkers." In short, the ethical theory of
Socrates, like the rest of his teaching, is by confession unscientific ;
it is the statement of the convictions of a remarkable nature, which
statement emerges in tho course of an api)cal to the individual to
etudy consistency in the intcrpretaUoh of traditional rules of con-
duct. For a critical examination of the ethical teaching which is
here described in outlLue, see Ethics.
The Socratica.
It has been seen that, so far from having any system, physical
or metaphysical, to enunciate, Sficratcs rcjeectd "the pursuit of
knowledge for its own sake " as a delusion and a snare, — a delusion,
inasmuch as knowledge, properly so called, is unattainable, and a
snare, in so far as tho pursuit of it draws us away from tho study
of conduct. He has therefore no claim to bo regarded as tho
founder of a philosophical school. But ho had made some tentative
contributions to a theory of morality; ho had shown both in liis
life and in his death that his principles stood the test of practical
application; he had invented a method having for its end tuc recti-
fication of opinion ; and, above all, ho had asserted "the autonomy
of the individual intellect" Accbrdingly, not one school but
several schools sprang up amongst liis associates, those of thom
•v\\o had a turn for speculation taking severally fioin hij tcicl.inf;
80 much as their pro-existing tendencies ar(J co.j^ictionj Lljo..'ed
them to assimJkta. Thus Aristippus of Cttodo iatcrnrettd hcdo-
nisticall^tha thcorctic&i moi»iityx ABtisthenej tho Oynia copied'
and caricatured the austere example ; Euclides of Mcgara prac-
tised and perverted the elenctic method ; Plato the Academic,
accepting the whole of the Socratic teaching, first developed it
harmoniously in the sceptical spirit of its author, and, afterward*
conceiving that he had found in Socratesi's agnosticism the germ
of a philosophy, proceeded to construct a system which should
embrace at once ontology, physics, and ethics. From the four
schools thus established sprang subsequently four other schools,
the Epicureans being the natural successors of the Cyrenaics, the
Stoics of the Cynics, the Sceptics of the llegarians, and the Peri-
patetics of the Academy. In this way the teaching of Socrates
made itself felt throughout the whole of the post -Socratic philo-
sophy. Of the influence which he exercised upon Aristippus,
Autisthenes, and Euclides, the "incomplete Socratics,'" as thej
are commonly called, as well as upon the " complete Socratic '
Plato, something must now bo said.
The "incomplete Socratics" were, like Socrates, sceptics; but
whereas Aristippus, who seems to have been in contact with Pro
tagoreanism before he made acquaintance with Socrates, came b
scepticism, as Protagoras had done, from the standpoint of thi
pluralists, Antisthenes, like his former master Gorgias, and Euclides
in whom the ancients rightly saw a successor of Zeno, came to
scepticism from the standpoint of Eleatic monism. In other words
Aristippus was sceptical because, taking into account the subjective
element in .sensation, he found himself compelled to regwd what
are called "things" as successions of feelings, which feefings ar«
themselves absolutely distinct from one another ; while Antistheue:
and Euclides were sceptical because, like Zeno, they did not under
stand how the same thing could at the same moment bear varioui
and inconsistent epithets, and consequently conceived all predica
tion which was not identical to be illegitimate. Thus AristippuJ
recognized only feelings, denying things ; Antisthenes recognized
things, denying attributions ; and it is probable that in this matter
Euclides was at one with him. For, though since Schleiemiachcr
many historians, unnecessarily identifying the elSCif 0IXoc of Plato's.
Sophist with the Megarians, have ascribed to Euclides a theory oJ
"ideas," and on the strength of this single passage thus con-'
jecturally interpreted have added a new chapter to the history of
Megarianism, it is difficult, if not impossible, to see how, if the founder
of the school had broken loose from the tramntels of the Zenonian
paradox, his successors, and amongst them Stilpo, should have re-
conciled themselves, as they certainly did, to the Cynic denial o(
predication.
While the " incomplete Socratics " made no attempt to overpass
the limits which Socrates had imposed upon himself, within thoss
limits they occupied each his department. Aristippus, a citizen
of the world, drawn to Athens by the fame of Socrates, and retained
there by the sincere affection which he conceived for him, inter-
preted the ethical doctrine of Socrates in accordance with his owa
theory of pleasure, which in its turn came under the refining in-
fluence of Socrates's theory of (ppduijim. Contrariwise, Anti.'ithencs,
a rugged but not ungenerous nature, a hater of pleasure, troubled
himself little about ethical theory and gave his life to the imita-
tion of his master's asceticism. Virtue, ho held, depended upon
"works," not upon arguments or lessons; all that was necessary
to it was the strength of a Socrates (Oiog. Laert., vi. 11). Yet
hero too the Socratic theory of ij>pivri(ji.s had a qualifying effect ; so
that Cyrenaic hedonism and Cynic asceticism sometimes exhibit
unexpected approximations. The teaching of EucliJes, thoufdi tho
Good is still supposed to be the highest object of knowledge, can
hardly be said to have an ethical element ; and in consequence of
this deficiency the dialectic of Socrates dcOTUeratcd in Meg.irian
hands, first into a series of exercises in fallacies, secondly into a
vulgar and futile eristic. In fact, tho partial Socraticisms of the
incomplete Socratics necessarily sulferea, even within their own
narrow limits, by the dismemberment which the system had under-
gone. Apparently the maieutic theory of education was not valued
by any of the three ; and, however this may be, they deviated
from Socratic tradition so far as to establish schools, and, as it would
seem, to take fees like the professional educators called Sophists.
Of tho relations in which tho metaphysic of Plato stood to the
Socratic search for definitions there are of necessity almost as many
theories as there arc interpretations of the Platonic system. Henco
in this place tho writer must content himself with a summary state-
ment of his own views. Initiated into philosophical speculation
by the Ileraclitean Cratylus, Plato began 'lis intellectual life as an
absolute sceptic, the followers of Heraclitus having towards tho
end of tho 5th century pushed to its conclusion the unconscicnn
scepticism of their master. There would liavo been then notliinjj
to provoke surprise, if, leaving speculation, Plato had given hini-
Boll to politics. In 407, however, ho became acquainted witli
Socrates, who gave to his thoughts a now direction. Plato nou-
found au occupation for his intellectual cncrc.ics, as Sotiatcs had
douu, in tho Lcrutiny of his btliefj and tlio tystcmati/ation of hit
principles of action. But it was not until tho cjl-istrupho of 399
that Plato gave hinisdf to his life's work. An exile, cut off from
political aoibitions, ho c^mt forward as the author of dialo^uci
238
SOCRATES
which aimed at producing upon readers the same effect which the
voice of the master had produced upou hearers. For a time he was
content thus to follow in the steps of Socrates, and of this period
■we have records in those dialogues which are commonly designated
Socratic. But Plato had too decided a bent for metaphysics to
linger long over propaedeutic studies. Craving knowledge — not
merely provisional and subjective knowledge of ethical concepts,
^uch as that which had satisfied Socrates, but knowledge of the
esuses and laws of the universe, such as that which the physicists
had sought — he asked himself what was necessary that the "right
opinion " which Socrates had obtained by absh'action from particular
instances might be converted into "knowledge" properly so called.
In this way Plato was led to assume for every Socratic universal
a corresponding unity, eternal, immutable, suprasensual, to be the
cause of those particulars which are called by the common name. On
this assumption the Socratic definition or statement of the "what "
pf the universal, being obtained by the inspection of particulars,
m some sort represented the unity, form, or "idea "from which
ithey derived their characteristics, and in so far was valuable ; but,
inasmuch as the inspection of the particulars was partial and
imperfect, the Socratic definition was only a partial and imperfect
representation of the eternal, immutable, suprasensual idea. How,
then, was the imperfect representation of the idea to be converted
into a perfect representation ? To this question Plato's answer was
vague and tentative. By constant revision of the provisional defini-
tions which imperfectly represented the ideas he hoped to bring
them into such shapes that they should culminate in the de-
finition of the supreme principle, the Good, from which the ideas
themselves derive their being. If in this way we could pass from
uncertified general notions, reflections of ideas, to the Good, so
as to be able to say, not only that the Good causes the ideas to be
what they are, but also that the Good causes the ideas to bo what
we conceive them, we might infer, he thought, that our definitions,
hitherto provisional, are adequate representations of real existences.
But the Platonism of this period had another ingredient. It
has been seen that the Eleatic Zeno had rested his denial of plural-
ity upon certain supposed difficulties of predication, and that they
continued to perplex; Antisthenes as well as perhaps Euclides and
others of Plato's contemporaries. These difficulties must be dis-
posed of if the new philosophy was to hold its ground ; and ac-
cordingly, to the fundamental assertion of the existence of eternal
immutable ideas, the objects of knowledge, Plato added two sub-
ordinate propositions, namely, (1) "the idea is immanent in the
particular," and (2) "there is an idea wherever a plurality of
particulars! is called by the same name." Of these propositions the
one was intended to explain the attribution of various and even
inconsistent epithets to the same particular at the same time,
Avhilst the other was necessary to make this explanation available
in the case of common terms other than the Socratic universals.
Such was the Platonism of the Eepuhlic and fixe Phxdo, a provi-
eional ontology, with a scheme of scientific research, which, as Plato
honestly confessed, was no more than an unrealized aspiration. It
was the- non - Socratic element which made the weakness of this
the earlier theory of ideas. Plato soon saw that the hypothesis of
the idea's immanence in particulars entailed the sacrifice of its
unity, whilst ae a theory of predication that hypothesis was in-
sufficient, because applicable to particulars only, not to the ideas
themselves. But with clearer views about relations and negations
the paradox of Zeno ceased to gerplex ; and with the consequent
■withdrawal of the two supplementary articles the development of
the fundamental assumption of ideas, eternal, immutable, supra-
sensual, might be attempted afresh. In the more definite, theory
which Plato now propounded the idea was no longer a Socratic uni-
versal, perfected and hypostatized, but rather the perfect type of a
natural kind, to which type its imperfect members were related by
imitation, whilst this relation was metaphysically explained by
means of a " thoroughgoing idealism " (R. D. Archer-Hind). Thus,
whereas in the earlier theory of ideas the ethical universals of
Socrates had been held to have a first claim to hypostatization in
the world of ideas, they are now peremptorily excluded, whilst the
idealism which reconciles plurality and unity gives an entirely new
significance to so much of the Socratic element as is still retained.
The growth of the metaphysical system necessarily influenced
Plato's ethical doctrines ; but here his final position is less remote
from that of Socrates. Content in the purely Socratic period to
elaborate and to record ethical definitions such as Socrates himself
might have propounded, as soon as the theory of ideas ofi'ered itself
to Plato's imagination he looked to it for the foundation of ethics
as of all other sciences. Though in the earlier ages both of the indi-
vidual and of the state a sound utilitarian morality of the Socratic
sort was useful, nay valuable, the morality of the future should,
he thought, rest upon the knowledge of the Good. Such is the
teaching of the Eepuhlu. But with the re-vision of the metaphysical
system came a complete change in the -view which Plato took of
ethics and its prospects. "Whilst in the previous period it had
ranked as the first of sciences, it was now no longer a science ;
because, though Good absolute still occupied the first place. Good
relative and all its various forms — justice, temperance, courage,
wisdom— not being ideas, were incapable of beiu" "known." Henc8
it is that the ethical teaching of the later dialogues bears an in-
telligible, though perhaps unexpected, resemblance to the simple
practical teaching of the unphilosophical Socrates.
Yet throughout these revolutions of doctrine Plato was ever trua
1.0 the Socratic theory of education. His manner indeed changed ;
for, whereas in the earlier dialogues the characteristics of the
master —
" Tlie soft and intricate disconrse,
Tlie wit that nial^es us tolerant perforce,
Tlie mystic legend, and the verse that drops
As snowflakea showei" on wintrj' forest tops, ■
Tlie questions Avorking wedge-like to the proof,
The threads of prayer from old religion's woof,
Tlie courteous skill of keen rebukes that chide
The learner's folly and the sophist's pride " — .
are studiously and _skilfully preserved, in the later dialogues
Socrates first becomes metaphysical, then ceases to be protagonist,
and at last disappears from the scene. But in the later dialogues,
as in the earlier, Plato's aim is the aim which Socrates in his con-
versation never lost sight of, namely, the dialectical improvement
of the learner.
BibViography. Of the histories of Greek philosophy enumerated in the article
i'armenidis the most important for the study of Socrates's life and work is
Zeller's Philosophic d. Gri^chen, The part in question has been translated into
English under the title of Socrates and the Socratic Schools^ London, 1877.
Schwegler's Ceschichte d. griechischen Philosophic will also be found instructive.
It is plainly impossible to supply here such a list of special treatises as is
given by Ueberweg in his Grunariss d, GescMchte d. Philosophic, and still more
so to provide a complete bibliography. But the following sources of informa-
tion may be mentioned : — F. Schleierniacher, "Ueber d. Werth d. Sokrates als
Philosophen," in Abh, d. Berliner Aldd. d, JVissensch., 1818, and irerfrc, iii.,
2, 287-308, translated into English by C. Tliirlwall, in the Philosophical M-ustma,
Cambridge, 1833, ii. 538-555 ; L. F. Lflut, Du Demon de Socrale, Paris, 1836, 1856.
reviewed by E. Littre in M^decine et Medecins, Paris, 1872 ; G. Grote, History
of Greece, eh. Isviii., and Plato and the other Companions of Sokrates, London,
1865; C. F. Hermann, De Socratis accnsaloribus, Gottingen, 1854 ; W. H.
Thompson, The Phxdhis of Plato, London, 186S, Appendix I. ; T. Wildauer, D.
Psychologic d. Willens fcet Sokrates, &c., Innsbruck, 1S77. For the view taken
in the present article with regard to the SaipivLOV, see the writer's paper
" On the 5aifji6vtov of Socrates," in the Journal of Philology, v. ; and comp. Chr.
Meiners, Vermischte philosophische Schriften, Leipsic, 1776 — "in moments of
'Schwarmerei' Socrates took for the voice of an attendant genius what was in
reality an instantaneous presentiment in regard to the issue of a contemplated
act." ForafuUer statement of the writer's view of Plato's relations to Socrates,
see a paper on Plato's Repnhlic, vi. 509 D sq., in the,*^ournai of Philology, I., and
a series of papers on " Plato's later Theory of Ideas," in vols, x., xi., xiii., xiv. of
the same periodical. Coinp. Sophists and (by all means) Ethics. (H. JA.)
SOCRATES, church historian. In the course of the
last twenty-five years (425-450) of the reign of Theodosius
II. (the first thoroughly Byzantine emperor) at least six
church histories were written in Greek within the Umits
pf the Eastern empire, — those, namely, of PhUostorgius
the Arian, of Philippus Sidetes, of Socrates, of Sozomen,
of Theodoret, and of Hesychius. Of these the first, no
longer extant except in fragments, seems to have been the
most' important. Those of Philip and of Hesychius (the
former an untrustworthy and dreary performance) have
also perished. The remaining three are now our main
sources for church history from Constantine to Theodosius
II. None of them has ventured upon a fresh treatment
of the period dealt with by Eusebius ; all three begin
their narratives about the point where his closes. In the
West the Church History of that author had already been
continued by Kufinus and his Chronicle by Jerome, and
the work of Kufinus was certainly known to the Byzantines.'
Nor did these write independently of each other, for
SozoMEN {q.v.) certainly had before him the work of So-
crates, and Theodoeet {q.v.) knew one or both of thenr.
The three histories together became known in the West
from the 6th century through the selection which Cassio-
dorus caused- to be made, from them, and it is to this selec-
tion (if we leave Kufinus and Jerome out of account) that
the Middle Ages were mainly indebted for all they knew
of the Arian controversies, and of the period generally
between the councils of Nice and Ephesus.
The ''EiKKXea-iaa-riKy] 'laropia of Socrates, still complete,
in several books, embracing the period from 306 to 439,
was written about, or at all events not later than, 440.
He was born and brought up at Constantinople ; the date
of his birth is uncertain, but it can hardly have been be-
fore 385. Of the facts of his life we know practically
nothing, except that he was not a cleric but a "scholas-
ticus " or advocate. Of the occasion, plan, and object of
SOCRATES
239
Lis work Le has himself informed us in Ihe prologues to
his first, second, fifth, and sixth books. It is dedicated
to one Theodorus, who had urged him to write such a his-
tory. He had no thorough prepaiation for the task, and
for the period down to the death of Constantius (3C1)
was practically dependent on Rufinug. His work finished,
he became a student of Athanasius and came to see how
untrustworthy his guide had been. He accordingly re-
wrote his first two books, and it is only this revision that
Jias reached us. The chief sources from whith he drew
were — (1) the Church History, the Life of Constant hie,
and the theological works of Eusebius ; (2) the Church
History of Eufinus ; (3) the works of Athanasius ; (4) the
uo longer extant SufaytD-yi) rdv SuroSiKwi' of the Mace-
donian and semi-Arian Sabinus, — a collection with com-
mentaries of acts of councils, brought down to the reign of
Theodosius I. (this was a main source) ; (5) collections of
letters by members of the Arian and orthodox parties ;
(6) the Ancoratus of Epiphanius; (7) works of Archelaus,
Gregory of Laodicea, Evagrius, Palladius, orations of Nes-
torius, iScc. Theological literature proper — as, for example,
the writings of the Cappadocians — he quite neglected.
On the other hand, he appears to have known some of
Origen's work, and the Apologia pro OrigeiietA Pamphilus.
It is to Origen and Origen's immediate disciples that he
refers when he speaks of " the old church writers," or of
"the Christian philosophers"; the last designation, how-
ever, also includes the monks. Jeep alleges, but does not
adduce any adequate proof, that Socrates made use of
Philostorgius. As regards profane history his materials
were exceedingly defective. Thus, for example, he con-
fesses his reason for not relating the political history of
Constantine to be that he has been unable to ascertain
anything about it. Jeep has instituted an examination
into the fasti, containing historical notes, made use of by
our author with the follo^\'ing results. . His chronological
data with the facts he appends to them are of the highest
value, especially in those cases where, as sometimes hap-
pens, data are preserved which are less precisely given in
other fasti and chronicles. Somewhere about the year
395-400 his use of these precisely dated records of profane
history comes to an end. From this point his information
is purely ecclesiastical (dates of ordination and death of
bishops and the like); that is to say, he makes use of
ohurch fasti. The secular fasti of Socrates come down
precisely to the same point as those which lay in the first
rank before Idatius.^ His reckonings by Olympiads are
generally wrong, the error arising not from any systematic
source but merely from carelessness. It is not altogether
impossible, however, after all that Socrates may have
taken the historical data of his fasti at second hand from
the profane historians. He certainly made use of Eutro-
pius ; but that he had any recourse to Eunapius and
Olympiodorus is more doubtful, and indeed would be quite
improbable if it could be proved that he had Philostorgius
before him. There is no evidence of his having known
the works of Dexippus and Zosimus. But he is greatly
indebted to oral tradition and to the testimony of eye-
witnesses, especially of members of the Novatian com-
munity in Constantinople ; something also he has set down
from personal knowledge. The contents of the closing
books are for the most part derived from oral tradition,
from the narratives of friends and countrymen, from what
was still generally known and current in the capital about
past events, and from the ephemeral literature of the day.
The theological position of Socrates, so far as ho can be said to
Iiave had one, is at once disclosed in his unlimited admiration for
Origen. All the enemies of the great Alexandrian ho regards
merely as empty and vain obscurantists ; for the orthodoxy of his
<*■ ^e Holdet-Egger, Neucs Archivf. dcutache Oesch., ii. 61.
hero he appeals to Athanasius. Closely connected with his high
.regard for Origen are his appreciation of science generally and the
moderation of his judgment on all dogmatic questions. According
to him, {WtjuKT; iraiStla is quite indispensable within the church ;
many Greek philosophera were not far from the knowledge of God,
as is proved by their triumphant arguments against atheists and
gainsayers of divine providence. The apostle* did not set them-
selves against the study of Greek literature and science ; Paul hail
even made a thorough study of them hirasel£ The Scriptures, it
is true, contain all that appertains to faith and life, but give no
due to the art of confuting gainsayers. Greek science, therefore,
must not be banished from the church, and the tendency within
the church so to deal with it is wrong. This point of view was the
common one of the majority of educated Christians at that period,
and is not to be regarded as exceptionally liberal. The same holds
true of the position of Socrates in regard to dogmatic questions.
On the one hand, indeed, orthodoxy and heresy are symbolized to
his mind by the wheat and the tares respectively ; he clings to the
naive opinion of Catholicism, that contemporary orthodoxy has pre-
vailed within the chuich from the first ; he recognizes the true faith
only in the mystery of the Trinity ; he judges heretics who have
been already condemned as interlopers, as impudent innovators,
actuated by bad and self-seeking motives ; he apologizes for having
so much as treated of Arianism at all in his history of the church ;
he believes in the inspiration of the ecclesiastical councils as much
as in that of the Sciiptures themselves. But, on the other hand, h»
takes absolutely uo interest in dogmatical subtleties and clerical
disputes ; he regards them as the source of gi'eat evils, and expresses
his cra\'ing for peace: "one ought to adore the ineffable mystery
in silence." This attitude, which was that of most educated By-
zantine laymen, has in particular cases made it possible for him
to arrive at very free judgments. Even granting that some feeble
remains of antique reserve may have contributed to this, and even
although some of it is certainly to be set down to his disposition
and tempei-ament, still it was his religious passivity that here
determined the character of Socrates and made him a typical ex-
ample of the later Byzantine Christianity. If Socrates had lived
about the year 325, he certainly would not have ranked hjraself
on. the side of Athanasius, but would have joined the party of
mediation. But — the 6/uooi<irios has been laid down, and must be
recognized as coiTectly expressing the mystery ; only one ought to
i-est satisfied with tliat word and with the repudiation of Arianism.
Anything more, every new distinction, is mischievous. The con-
troversy in its details is a vvKTo/iaxta to him, full of misunder-
standings. Sometimes he gives prominence, and correctly, to the
fact that the disputants partially failed to understand one another,
because they had separat» interests at heart, — those on the one side
desiring above everything to guard against polytheism, those on
the other being most afraid of Sabellianism. He did not fail, how-
ever, to recognize also that the controversies frequently had their
root in mere emulation, slander, and sophistry. ■ Not unfrequently
he passes very sharp judgments on whole groups of bishops. In
the preface to his fifth book he excuses his trenching on the region
of political history on the ground of his desire to spare his reaueis
the disgust which perusal of the endless disputes of the bishop*
could not fail to excite, and in that to his sixth book he prides
himself on never having flattered even the orthodcx bishops. Tiis
attitude of his has given him a certain measure of impartiality.
Constantins, and even Julian — not Valens, it is true — are esti-
mated veiy fairly. The Arian Goths who died for their religion
are recognized as genuine martyrs. His characterizations of Cyril
and Nestorius, and his narrative and criticism of the beginnings
of the Christoiogical controvei-sy, are models of candour and his-
torical conscientiousness. In frequent instances, moreover, ho
acknowledges his own incompetency to give an opiuiou and hands
the question over to the clergy. For the clergy as a whole, in
spite of his criticism of individuals, he has the very highest respect,
as also for the monks, without himself making any inordinate
religious professions. In a special excursus of considerable length
he has paid a tribute of the highest order to monachism, and in
his characlcrization of Theodosius II. also (where he has made use
of the brightest colours) he docs not fail to point out that in piety
the emperor could almost compete with the monks. But, a|)art
from these two chapters (iv. 23, vii. 22), it is but seldom that one
could learn from the pages of Socrates that thci j was such a thing
as monasticism in those days. To his mind the convent is not far
removed from the church, and as a layman ho is not at all inclined
to accent the principles of mon.ichism as applying to himself or to
square his views of nistory in accordance with them. He has even
gone so far as formally to express his sympathy with Paphnutius,
the champion of the right of bishops to marry.
As a source for the period within which ho wrote, the work of
Socrates is of the greatest value, but as "liistory" it disappoints
even the most modest expectations. Kusebius, after all, had somo
conception of what is meant by " church history," but .Socrates has
none. " As long as there is peace there is no material for a history
of the church " ; but, on the other hand, neither do heresies by rights
,240
S 0 D — S O D
come into the story. What, then, is left for it ? A collection of anec-
dotes and a scries of episodes. In point of fact this is the view
actually taken by Socrates. His utter want of care and consistency
appears most clearly in his vacillation as to the relations between
ecclesiastical and political history. At one time he brings in politics,
at another he excuses himself from doing so. He has not failed to
observe that church and state act and react upon each other ; but he
has no notion how the relation ought to be conceived. Nevertheless
his whole narrative follows the thread of political— that is to say,
of imperial — history. This indeed is characteristic of his Byzantine
Christian point of view ; church history becomes metamorphosed
into a history of the emperors and of the state, because a special
church history is at bottom impossible. But even so one hardly
hears anything about state or court except great enterprises and
anecdotes. Political insight is wholly wanting to Socrates ; all
the orthodox emperors blaze forth in a uniform light of dazzling
splendour ; even the miserable Arcadius is praised, and Theodosius
,11. figures as a saint whose exemplary ]uety turned the capital into a
church. If in addition to all this we bear in mind that in his latsr
books the historian's horizon is confined to the city and patriarchate
of Constantinople, that he was exceedingly ill informed on all that
related to Rome and the West, that in order to fill out his pages he
has introduced narratives of the most unimportant description, that
in not a few instances he has evinced his credulity (although when
compared with the majority of his contemporarijs he is still entitled
to be called critical),' it becomes sufficiently clear that his History,
viewed as a whole and as-a literary production, can at best take only
a secondary place. One great excellence, however, cannot be denied
him, his honest and sincere desire to be impartial. He tried also,
as far as he could, to distinguish between the certain, the probable,
the doubtful, and the untrue. He made no pretence to be a
searcher of hearts and frequently declines to analyse motives. He
has made frank confession- of his nescience, and in certain passages
his critical judgment and sober sense and circumspection are quite
striking. He writes a plain and unadorned style and shuns super-
fluous words. Occasionally even there are touches of good humour
and of trenchant satire, — always the sign of an honest writer. In
short,- the rule to be applied in the criticism of Socrates is that his
learnin" and knowledge can be trusted only a little but his good-
will and straightforwardness a 'great deal. Considering the circum-
stances under which he wrote and the miseries of the time, it can
only be matter for congratulation that such a man should have
become our informant and that his work has been preserved to us.
Finally, it is to be noted that Socrates was either himself origin-
ally a Novatianist who had afterwards joined the Catholic Church,
or that whether through his ancestors or by education he had stood
in most intimate relations with the Novatianist Church. In his
History he betrays great sympathy with that body, has gone with
exactness into its history in Constantinople and Phrygia, and is
indebted for much of the material of his work to Novatianist tradi-
tion and to his intercourse with prominent members of the sect.
Both directly and indirectly he has declared that Novatianists and
Catholics are brothers, that as such they ought to seek the closest
relations with one another, and that the former ought to enjoy all
the privileges of the latter. His efforts, however, had only this
result, that he himself afterwards fell under suspicion of Nova-
tianism. For bibliography, see Sozomen. (A. HA.)
SODIUM AND SODA. Sodium is one of the two prin-
cipal alkali metals, regarding the general properties of
which the reader is referred to Chemistry (vol. v. p. 524)
and the introductory portion of Potassium (vol. xLx. p. 588).
In combination sodium is a generally diffused and most
abundant element. The salt dissolved in sea water consists
chiefly, of chloride of sodium (NaCl), and according to
Dittmar's calculation (see Sea Watek) the oceans of the
. world contain of sodium calculated as chloride not less
than 36,000 x 10^2 {i.e., 36,000 million million) tons, whilst
of potassium calculated as sulphate the amount in sea water
is 1141x1 0'^ (1141 million million) tons. From sea water
have been deposited the enormous beds of rock salt found
in many parts oi the world (see Salt). Sodium carbonates
are also widely dispersed in nature, forming constituents
of many mineral waters, and occurring as principal saline
components in natron or trona lakes, as efflorescences in
Lower Egypt, Persia, and China, and as urao in Mexico,
Colombia, and Venezuela. The solid crusts found at the
bottom of the salt lakes of the Araxes plain in Armenia
contain about 16 per cent, of carbonate and 80 of sulphate
of soda, tn New Granada there occurs a double salt,
NajCOj + CaCOj -f SHjO, known as gay - lussite. In
Wyoming, California, and Nevada enormous deposits oi
carbonates, mi.xed in some cases with sulphate and with
chloride, occur. About Szegedin in Hungary and all
over the vast pusztas (steppes) between the Theiss' and the
Danube, and from the Theiss up to and beyond Debreczin,
the soil contains sodium carbonate, which frequently
assumes the form of crude alkaline crusts, called "szekso,"
and of small saline ponds. A purified specimen of such
Debreczin soda was found to contain as much as 90 per
cent, of real carbonate (NaCOj) and 4 of common salt.
Natural sulphate occurs in an anhydrous condition as
thenardite (NajSO^) at Tarapaca, Peru, and in the rock-
salt deposits at Espartinas near Aranjuez, Spain. Hy-
drated sulphates occur at several localities in the pro-
vince of Madrid and in other provinces of Spain, and at
Miihlingen in Aargau, and copious deposits of glauberite,
the double sulphate of sodium and calcium, are met with
in the salt-mines of Villarrubia in Spain, at Stassfurt, and
in the province of Tarapaca, Peru, &c. A native nitrate
of soda is obtained in great abundance in the district of
Atacama and the province of Tarapaca, and is imported
into Europe in enormous quantities as cubical nitre for the
preparation of saltpetre (see Nitrogen, vol. xvii. p. 518).
Cryolite, a fluoride of aluminium and sodium, AIF3 + SNaF,
is extensively mined in Greenland for industrial purposes.
These form the principal natural sources of sodium com-
pounds,— the chloride as rock salt and in sea wa.ter being
of such predominating importance as quite to outweigh
all the others. But it is questionable whether taken al-
together the mass of sodium they represent is as much as
that disseminated throughout the rocky crust in the form
of soda felspar {i.e., as silicate of soda) and in other soda-
containing rocks. From this source all soils contain small
proportions of sodium in soluble forms, hence the ashes of
plants, although they preferably imbibe potassium salts,
contain traces and sometimes notable quantities of sodium
salts. Sodium salts also form essential ingredients in all
animal juices. _
Considered industrially, by far the most important bodies
are the carbonates, the sulphates, and caustic soda (sodium
hydrate), the manufacture of which forjns the basis of the
soda industry. Immense quantities of these bodies are used
in the manufacture of soap and glass, and under the name
of "washing soda" or "soda crystals" the consumption of
the hydrated carbonate for domestic washing is also very
great. There are indeed few chemical industries in which
soda in one form or another does not play an important
part, and the combinations of economic value into which it
enters are numberless. It will be convenient to treat of
the manufacture as a whole by itself, after speaking of
sodium and its salts in their chemical relations.
Sodium,m German A'afrtwm (symbol, Na; atomic weight,'
23053 ; O = 16), is a univalent metal. It occurs nowhere
in nature in an uncombined condition, and was first isolated
in 1807 by Sir Humphrey Davy through the medium of
voltaic electricity. It is prepared by distillation of an
intimate mixture of carbonate of soda with charcoal. The
process is quite analogous to that followed in making
metallic potassium (Potassium, vol. xix. p. 590), but much
easier of execution, and free from certain dangers which
attend the preparation of the other. The distillation is con-
ducted in cylindrical iron retorts protected against the fire
by means of fireclay tubes fitting closely round them. In
the charge is included a certain proportion of chalk, which,
giving off carbonic acid, aids in driving over the metallic
vapour and protects the distillate against oxidation. The
metal cast into the form of cakes or ingots is protected
from the air by a coating of paraffin and secured in closely^
fitting soldered-up tinned-iron boxes. Metallic sodium ia
very similar in properties and appearance to potassium.
The principal points of difference are its pure white toloin,
fc> O JD I U M
241
ats specific gravity (0'9735 at 13°'5 C), and its fusing point
(95° '6 C). In thin layers its vapour is colourless, but dense
fumes have a purple tint. It decomposes water violently,
but the hydrogen evolved does not take fire, although the
reaction is more dangerous than the corresponding jiheno-
jnena developed by potassium, because it leads frequently
■to most violent explosions. Yet the process serves in
practice for the preparation of pure soda hydrate. In this
•operation a piece of sodium is placed in a silver basin
standing in a shallow cold-water bath. Drop by drop
water is added — the metal between the additions being
allowed to e.xpend its energy — till the desired quantity of
hydrate is formed. The process, in short, is so conducted
:taat, e.'ccept at first, the metal never touches water in any
other form than that of a strong soda lye. Sodium is
largely made for use as an agent in the manufacture of
■aluminium and magnesium, and as a reagent in laboratory
operations. IL-e metal does not affect carbonic oxide at
any temperature ; it acts on hydrogen as potassium does ;
but the compound is less stable. On ammonia gas it acts,
as in the parallel case of potassium, with the formation of
iSTHjNa, only the reaction. is Jess energetic. Sodium has
Jess powerful affinity to oxygen than potassium ; in dry
•air or o.xygen it burns into the dioxide Na202, — a product
ob.tainable also by heating the nitrate or nitrite. A
■white solid soluble in cold water, forming a hydrate,
Na.^O.^ + SHjO, is obtainable in crystals, the solution of
Avhich is strongly alkaline. With acids it yields sodium
■saits and peroxide of hydrogen. Sodium tetroxide (NajO^)
is not known to exist.
Caustic Soda (NaHO) is prepared from carbonate by
means of caustic lime, just as caustic potash is made
from its carbonate (see Potassium). The analogy between
the two caustic alkalis is so perfect that we need only
summarize the points of difference between them. Com-
pared with caustic potash, caustic soda is less easily soluble
in water, less caustic, less energetically basilous, less prone
Tvhen fused in air to pass into peroxide, hence less de-
.structive to platinum, iron, nickel, and silver vessels.
Sodium Chloride (NaCl) occurs in nature in a nearly
pure state. Absolutely pure salt is made from commercial
salt by-precipitating from a solution the lime and magnesia
by pure carbonate of soda, filtering, neutralizing with pure
hydrochloric acid, concentrating by- evaporation, and then
"precipitating tl pure salt by a stream of hydrochloric
acid gas. Tht crystalline precipitate is collected over
glass wool, washed with pure fuming hydrochloric acid,
and dried by heating in a platinum basin. It forms non-
lygroscopic crystaLs, free from combined water, having a
specific gravity at 16° C. of 2-1G2 (Stolba), and according
to Carnclley fusing at 776° C. The solubility of pure
ialt in water is almost independent of temperature ; 1>0Q
parts of water dissolve —
at 0' 14* 60' lOO' 109'-7
(boiling^
35-52 35-87 37-25 39-61 4053 parts of NaCl.
■Regarding its commercial relations, &c., see Salt.
Chlorate of Soda (NaClOj) is a salt of" sonie industrial
importance, from its use in the manufacture of aniline
black. It may be' made from the potash salt (n) by do-
composing this with hydroduosilicic acid (which precipi-
tates the potassium as liuosilicate and yields a .solution of
chloric acid), and neutralizing the chloric acid solution
with soda, or {h) by double decomposition with bitarlrate
of soda NaIIC,H,0,,,— the cream of tartar (K1}C\H,0,,)
separating out almost com[)ieiely, whilst the chlorate of
soda remains. in solution. According to Weldon, it is best
manufactured from caustic soda by the direct action of
chlorine, tliu two salts NaCl and NaC'lOj being- separated
by crystallization. Chlorate of r.oda forms cubes which
often oxiibit tctrahcdral faces; 100 parts of water dis-
22—12
solve at 0° 81-9, at 20° 99, and at 100° C. 233 parts of
the salt. Hence it is much more soluble than the potash
salt, on which account it is preferred for aniline black
printing.
Sulphate (NaoSO^) is the most largely produced of all
soda saks in manufacturing operations, although it is re-
garded principally as an intermediate product. The an-
hydrous salt readily combines \vith water into a crystalline
soluble compound, NaoSO^-l- lOHjO, known as Glauber's
salt. This forms large transparent monoclinic crystals, and
is characteristically prone to form supersaturated solutions.
100 parts of water dissolve —
at 0' ir-67 25'-05 32'-:3 33*-SS
12-17 26-38 99-48 322-1 3121 parts of NaoSO^-H 10 H„0,
5-02 1-0-12 28-11 50-65 50-4 parts of Na'SO^.
As the temperature rises, beyond about 33°, the solu-
bility decreases (Gay-Lussac). Glauber's salt, when ex-
posed to dry air, especially in summer heat, gradually
iu,lls into a powder of anhydrous sulphate. It is much
less volatile than the chloride. The thiosulphate, NajSjOj
(commercial hyposulphite of soda), and soda salts of other
lower sulpliur acids, are reserved for Sulphur.
Of all sodium compounds, except common salt, the car-
bonates are by far the most important, both industiialJy
and chemically. These comprise the following.
Noi~nml Carbonate, Na2C03. — The anhydrous salt usually
presents itself in the form of a w-hite opaque porous solid,
specific gravity 2-65 (Karsten). ■ According to Carnelley,
it fuses at 818° C. (dull red heat) into a colourless liquid.
On fusing it loses some of its carbonic acid, and at a bright
red heat it volatilizes appreciably. The porous salt absorbs
water from the air ; when moistened .with water it gives
off heat and unites into crystalline hydrates, of which the
important compound is
Decahydrate, Na2C03-F lOHjO. — This salt, kno^vn as
soda crystals or washing soda, forms large transparent
monoclinic rhomboidal prisms or double pyramids. The
■salt dissolves readily in water, forming strongly alkaline
solutions, -which emulsionize fats, though less readily than
is done by caustic lyes. 100 parts of water dissolve —
at 0* 15° 20* SO' 38" 104'
21-33 63-20 92-82 273-6 11422 5396 of crystals,
6-97 16-20 21-71 37-24 51-67 46-47 of NaXO,
(Lowel). According to this observer, the dissolved salt
from 38° C. upwards assumes the form of lower hydrates,
hence the diminution in solubility at higher temperatures.
A saturated solution, when evaporated dow-n by heat,
deposits a granular salt of the composition Na2C03(H20
or 2II.,0). The decahydrate, -ivhen exposed to dry air
even at ordinary temperatures, loses water, -with the forma-
tion of monohydrate, NajCOjHjO. It also readily takes
up carbonic acid with the formation of
Bicarbonate, NaHCOj. — Its formation may be thus for-
mulated -Na2C03 + IOH2O + CO2 = 2NaHC03 + 9H2O.
The bicarbonate remains as a crystalline mass, while the
liberated water runs off with more or less of dissolved car-
bonate and the saline imi)urities which may be present.
Bicarbonate forms small four-sided monoclinic plates with
a feebly alkaline taste and reaction. 100 parts of water \
dissolve — '
at 0*
6-90
20'
9-60
40*
12-70
lC-40of MaHCOj
(Dibbits). From about 70° C. upwards the solution gives off
carbonic acid with formation of Scsquicarbonate, — 2NaoO
+ 3C0,-f 4H20 = Na2C032NalIC03-l-3H20. This salt,
found in nature as trona or urao, forms in its pure state
crystals which do not lose -nater in the air. At 20° 0. 100
parts of water dissolve 18-S parts of the salt calculated as
anhydride, 2Nao03CO.,. Both bicarbonate and-scsquicar-
bonato vhen heated dry break up readily (below redness)
into normal carbonate, water, and carbonic acid.
242
SODIUM
Other salts of soda which are of importance on account
of tbeir acid constituents— nitrate, silicate, phosphate-
are dealt ^vith under Niteogen, Silica, Phosphorus.
The estimation and analysis of alkalis are suflfioiently
dealt \nth at the close of the article Potassium.
Soda ilanufmlurc.
The aucicnts probably iliJ not know soda iu other tlian its native
forms una tUl about the eud of the 18th century potash was, of the
two alkalis, the more abundant and generally used substance. In-
deed it was not till well into that century that the chemical dis-
tinctions of the alkalis were established ; they were previously
spoken of indifferently as nitrum, natron, kali, alkali, and soda,
names simply meaning a fixed alkali. Soda has properly a separate
history only from 1736, when Duhamel established tlie fact that
common salt and mineral alkali have the same base, -a body
different from the salt of tartar or vegetable alkali. _\et soda,
from both mineral and vegetable sources, had long previously been
used in Europe, the Arabs having probably brought into Spam a
knowledge of the alkali and its sources. Apart from the trona
and soda lakes, &c., already alluded to, the only source tiU the
close of the 18th century was the ashes of cert.ain plants whicb
■ on the sea-coast and iu salt-impregnated soils. These plants,
plants fluxed by red heat into a pasty mass and broken into con-
venient lumps, forms the barilla of commerce, which in former times
was a product of the first importance on the shores of Spam, Sicily,
Sardinia, and other coasts of the Mediterranean. In 1634 as much
as 12 000 tons of barilla were introduced into England from Spam
alone, and, in spite of the cheapness of artificial soda, the manu-
facture of barilla is still— or at least was tUl recently— earned on at
various localities on the Mediterr.lnean. On the west coasts of
Scotland and Ireland large amounts of impure soda carbonate were
obtained from the kelp burned from certaiu sea-weeds ; but the
introduction of artificial soda early extinguished that industry,
although in connexion with the production of iodine and other
products a sraaU quantity of sea-weed soda continues to be made m
Scotland till the present day. , , ,. ,
The increasing price of potash salts and the discovery ol
Duhamel led to strenuous attempts to produce the carbonate from
common salt. In 1775 the French Academy of Sciences offered a
prize of 2400 livres for a practical method of converting salt into
soda. But it was never awarded, although the problem was soon
triumphantly solved. Indeed in that same year Scheele succeeded
in making soda from common salt by me.rns of litharge. Several
claims were made for the prize, the first being based ou a process
invented by a Benedictine monk, Jlalherbe, in 1778, which was
worked with some success for several years. Some time about or
before 1787 De la Metherie proposed a plan for calcining with
charcoal the sulphate prepared from chloride,— an impracticable
proposal, "because nearly all the resulting product is sulphide.'
But this proposal has historical importance, because fr9ra the pub-
lished account of it Le Blanc received in' 1787, according to his
Dwn statement, the first suggestion of his process,— probably the
most valuable and fertile chemical discovery of all times. Nicolas
Le Blanc, born at Issoudun (Indre) in 1753, was private surgeon
to the duke of Orleans. He was a chemist as well as a surgeon,
and the prospect of the Academy prize attracted his attention to
the soda problem. He added to the sulphate and charcoal mixture
proposed by De la Metherie a certain proportion of chalk, and by
fluxing the mixture in crucibles succeeded in effecting the desired
transformation. The chemist D'Arcet and his assistant Dize, having
recognized the soundness of the process, tlie duke of Orleans, early
in 1790, agreed to provide a capital of 200,000 francs for working
the process. In September 1791 the National Assembly granted
Le Blanc a patent for fifteen years, and under the superintendence
of Le Blanc himself, with Dize and Henri Shee, the steward of the
duke of Orleans, a work was established at Saint Denis. But on
the fall and execution of his patron Le Blanc, and all others owning
and working soda processes, were ordered to resign them to the state
for the public benefit, he receiving the miserable compensation of
4000 francs. In 1800 his works were reconveyed to him, but in
1806, broken in hope, health, spirit, and resource, he perished by
his own hand in a workhouse.
Le Blanc's process continued to hold the field against all compet-
ing schemes till within the last few years, and that essentially in
^ It is well established, however, that carbonate of soda can be pro-
duced in this manner. It was Liebig, we believe, who snowed that
the first step in the Le Blanc process is approximately thus —
2Na,S04-f 6C = NajS.,-(-NajC03 4-5CO, only the disulphide and the
carbonate on continued heating a'-t on each other and on the carbon
to form Na.S.— Na^S3-t-Nai,C03-l-2C = 2NajS + 3CO.
its -original form. Owing to the raw materials cmployetl'tn it
and the products evolved, it became the basis of a series of import-
ant industries, and many interesting collateral processes nave
been grafted on the manufacture. Its origin was contemporaneous
with the introduction of bleaching-powder (see Chloiune, vol. v.
p. 678), and the hydrochloric acid given oH' in the conversion of
chloride into sulphate of soda became the raw material of tliat
industry, the two processes being worked in conjunction. Since
the days of Le Blanc many other methods for more directly manu-
facturing artificial soda have been proposed ; but only one — the so-
called " ammonia process " — has seriously threatened to supplant it.
Lc Blanc's Process. — This consists of two stages. In the first stage
common salt is converted into sulphate of soda by the action o»
sulphuric acid. At first acid sulphate of soda is produced thus —
2NaCl-^H„S04=HCl-^NaHSOJ-^N^Cl; but subsequently at a
sufficient temperature the acid sulphate decomposes the remaindci
of the salt thus— NaHS04-l-NaCl = Na„S04-fHCl, so that all the
chlorine is expelled as hydrochloric acid" with formation of normal
sulphate of soda. In the second stage the sulphate mixed with
limestone and coal (charcoal in Le Blanc's original proposal) is
calcined in a reducing flahie, whereby a mixture of sulphide of
calcium (CaS) and carbonate of soda is formed, oxygen being gen-
erally supposed to pass off as carbonic oxide,. CO. According to
Lunge, however, the gas produced consists chiefly of carbonic acid,
so that the reaction should correspond essentially to the equation
Nai,S04^-2C + CaC03 = Na;CO,,■f CaS-r2C0.. The sulphide of cal-
cium being practically insoluble in water and only very slowly acted
on by a solution of carbonate of soda at temperatures under 45° C, '
the carbonate is extracted by systematic lixiviation with water at
a temperature under that limit and is recovered from the solution
by evaporation. If an excess of lime is used, more or less of the
soda assumes the caustic form (NaHO). All crude soda-ash lyes
contain some caustic alkali besides the following impurities : —
chloride of sodium, sulphate of soda, sulphide of sodium combined
with sulphide of iron into a soluble green compound which occa-
sions much trouble to the manufacturer. This solution contains
also occasionally cyanide or ferrocyanide of sodium, produced by
the action of cyanide on the soluble form cf sulphide of iron.
Salt Cake Making.— The conversion of the salt into sulphate, called
"salt cake," is efl'ccted by means of sulphuric acid of about 60 per
cent (chamber acid), and may be, and still very commonly is, carried
out in reverberatory furnaces having flat soles of cast iron, attached
to one end of which is a pan of the same material. The waste heat
from the reverberatory furnace is utilized to heat the charge placed
in the pan, where the first part of the change is effected, the reaction
beginning briskly with evolution of copious fumes of hydrochloric
acid immediately the acid and salt are mixed. Before the Alkali
Act of 1863 hydrochloric acid was freely allowed to escape through
the stalk with the smoke and fire gases, carrying destruction to the
vegetation of vast tracts around the works ; but now all the acid
is "everywhere carefully collected, both because it is a source of
profit and from sanitary considerations. Hence in modem "open
roasters," as these. reverberatoiy furnaces are called, the pan and
the calcining sole are separated, so that the comparatively pure and
undiluted fumes from the pan can be led away and collected by
themselves, leaving the mixed air, fire gases, and acid fumes from
the furnace hearth to be separately dealt with. In another class
of furnace, called a " blind roaster," the calcination of the half-
finished sulphate is carried out in a muffle, so that none of the
hydrochloric acid is mixed with air and fire gases. Certain ad-
vantages attend each class of furnace. In working these hand-
furnaces there is much unpleasant manual labour, to avoid which
mechanical furnaces have been devised, in which the stirring of
the charge, kc, is accomplished by machinery. The first mechanical
roaster actually used was patented by Jones & Walsh in 1875. In
it the whole operation from beginning to end is carried out on the
sole of a large cast-iron pan heated from above. Throu';;h the roof
of the chamber enclosing the pan passes a vertical shaft geared to
rotate, to which are attached four horizontal arms, and to these
slanting rods are fixed which terminate in scrapers. These scrapers
are fixed at ditferent lengths from the shaft centre, so that when
the shaft is iti motion they pass through and turn over the whole
of the charge strewn over the sole of the pan. The acid is passed
into the pan by a pipe from a tank situatccl above the roaster. The
hot mixture of fire gases and acid fumes is led through a long pipe
to cool down before rea'-hing the condensers.
Hargrcavcs's Process for making sulphate without the direct use
of sulphuric acid is based on the employment of sulphurous acid
obtained by the ignition of pyrites aided by air and stcam._ In
this way Mr Hargreaves may be said to get his sulphuric acid ex
tempore. The process has only been elaborated as the result of a
most extensive series of investigations and experiments earned out
in conjunction with -Mr Kobinson, their first patent having been
obtained in January 1870. The reaction on which the jnocess de-
pends mavbe thus■fol■mnlatl•d-2XaCl-^■SO,^-H,0-l-0 = ^aJb(^-f■
•^HCl The salt used is rendered porous by first moistening it wit *>
water and then redrvine it by passing it through a hotiair chann
SODIUM
243
on an emlless cTiain of plates. The salt so prepared is JistiiouteJ
ill a range of not less than eight cast-iron cyliuders, wliicli are per-
> uled successively by a current' of mixed superheated steam and
sulpliurons acid given olf by pyrites. The reaction begins at about
•too" C. atid increases in enerjiy with the rise of temperature, but
it is impracticable to force the heat beyond 500° to 550°, as the
charge then begins to fuse and ceases to be permeable by gases.
The condensation of the hydrochloric acid given olT in these
processes is effected by a variety of means according to the purpose
in view in securing the gas. In Coutinental works a favourite
method is to pass the gas through a range of Woulfe's bottles
arranged in an ascending series, — fresh water entering the topmost
and passing through tlie whole, till in the last and lowest,'highly
cliarged with acid, it meets the gas coming direct from tlie roaster.
lAfter leaving tlie last and highest bottle the gas is generally \va.shed
jthoroughly out by passing it into a small coke tower, in which it
(meets a downward trickle of water. In English works Woulfe's
bottles are not employed, and tlio ga.'ses are commonly conductod
by a long range of piping, in which they are cooled, to one or a series
of coke towers, in wliich they are exposed to an enormously extended
condensing surface of water trickling over the coke, stones, or brick
with wliicli the interiors of the towers are fdled.
Slack Ash Makinrj. — The conversion of the crude sulphate or
salt cake into carbonate of soda, peculiarly the process of Le Blanc,
is conducted in what is termed a " balling furnace." In its simplest-
form this consists of a long revcrbcratory furnace in which the fuel
occupies a lower grating at one extremity of tlie flat sole, on which
the whole reaction is carried out. This sole has usually two beds,
that more distant from the fire-bridge being a little higher than
the front division ; anil on front aud back beds two separate charges
at different stages of advancement are treated simultaneously. The
salt-caku is taken as it comes from the roaster, mixed with lime-
stone or chalk (crushed to pieces not bigger than a walnut) and with
coal or anthracite in the form of slack or culm. The proportions of
these ingredients used in different works vary widely ; but, generally
stated, to each 100 parts of sulphate there are added from 100 to
140 parts of chalk or limestone and from 40 to 70 of coal. These
ingredients roughly mixed are passed by a hopper into the back
bed of the furnace, where they become dried and heated, while a
previous charge is being fiuislied on the hot front or working bed.
When the charge on t)»e working bed has been, withdrawn, the
mixture on the back bed is pushed forward and spread over the
highly heated sole. During the time it is exposed to the flames
the ball-fiirnaceman is constantly at work with a paddle or rake
turning over and exposing eijually the whole charge to the action
of the llame. Very soon the mixture begins to soften and fuse on
the surface, and by degrees the whole mass assumes a stiff pasty
form. Meantime bubbles of carbonic acid gas are copiously given
off, the material becoming of thinner consistence ; but afterwards
the charge becomes again stiff, and carbonic oxide instead of carbonic
acid is evolved, which as it is given olf burns in long pointed
flames, called "pipes" or "candles.' The copious appearance of these
flames indicates the completion of the operation, aud the ball of
black ash must now bo withdrawn without delay. The time
required for working off a charge is from forty to fifty minutes.
The manual labour of black ash balling is extremely hard and
trying, while it demands for its success considerable judgment and
experience. On these accounts the efforts of manufacturers were
early directed to the introduction of incchanicil furnaces ; and in
1848 W. W. Pattinson patented a rotating ball-furnace, which, how-
ever, owing to severe tear and wear, was unsuccessful. Improve-
ments on the revolviug furnace were effected by Elliot & Ku.ssell,
Stevensou & Williamson, Mactear, and others, which have reudered
the working of revolvers a complete success. In its general features
a revolver consists of a large boilar-liko cylinder of cast irou, lined
internally with fire-bricks, and suspended horizontally so that it
can be made to "-OLSte about its axis. One of the two open ends
communicates \ntu a furnace', which sends its flame through the
cylinder. From thp other end the liot gases are led away for evapo-
rating black-ash liiiuor. The cylinder is surmounted by a platform
•jr railway from which it receives the charge through a manhole in
lits side. The charge is made in two separate instalments, — the
whole of the chalk and twg-thirds of the coal being first introduced,
and the cylinder slowly rotated till a portion of the chalk has been
burned to lime. Then the suliih,''.to and the remainder of the coal,
well muted, are added, tho revolver going slowly at first, but more
rapidly as tho end approaches, the whole balling being completed
in from two to two and a half hours. The manhole door being
opened, the revolver is turned round to allow the fluid black ash
to pour out by it into a series of vessels placed beneath it. Under
Mactear's improved process the whole of tlie charge is introduced
into the revolver at first, and after the decomposition is complete
a small proportion of caustic Umo is thrown in aud quickly mixed
with tho charge, which is thereon at once drawn.
The lixiviation of the black ash is conducted in a systematic
manner so as to extract all tho soda with the minimum of water.
The apparatus generally employed — the I3uff-Duulop system —
consists of a series of at least four tanks each provided with a tahe.
bottom and two outlet pipes, and so arranged that the liquid part or
the contents can be made to How from any one of the tanks into
any other. The method of working consists in making fresh water
meet nearly exhausted ash, aud the liquid, passing on through the
series of tanks and becoming gradually stronger, meets ash less and
less exhausted, till in the last tank of tho series the watery solution
in its most concentrated state comes in contact with fresh black ash.
As soon as the ash in the first tank is completely exhausted the waste
residue is withdrawn and a fresh charge introduced. It then be-
comes the last of the series, number two taking the first place ; and
so the work goes on in regular rotation. The lye obtained is allowed
to clear in large tanks, from which it is drawn for evaporation.
Boiling Down. — The evaporation of the tank-liquor is generally
effected in fiat iron pans, heated from the top by the waste heat of
the black-ash furnaces. So soou as a certaiu degree of concentra-
tion is passed, soda begins to separate out in the form of granular
crystals. These are ladled out and allowed to drain for subsequent
calcination and conversion into soda ash. Tho purity of the
grauular salt decreases as the evaporation proceeds, chloride and
sulphate of sodium, with the sulphides of iron and sodium, separat-
ing out -nith tho carbonate. The red liquor which remains with
the salt owes its colour to the iron sulphide it contains. It is
intensely caustic, containing much caustic soda. In draining from
the soda it carries off with it much" of tho sulphide and minoi
impurities from the tanks. The impure soda obtained from the
evaporating pans is known as black salt and consists essentially
of a monohydrate, Na.iCO^ + HjO. A process for evaporation from
the bottom is also worked in Lancashire and on tho Continent
Carbonaling.—SaMs that are fished out of the evaporating pan io
the early stage of boiling down, Icing comparatively pure, require
little treatment for finishing as soda ash. They have simply to be
dried at a moderate heat to expel'the water of crystallization. But
with the ordinary black salt, which contains a considerable amount
of both caustic soda and sodium sulphide, a special purifying and
finishing tseatment, called " carbonating," has to be adopted. For
carbonating black salt the strong lye iu the evaporating tanks is
mixed with sawdust and evaporated down to diynoss. The mixture
is then introduced into a carbonating furnace, where the heat is
gradually raised till the whole of tlie sawdust it contains is burnt
off, and by the agency of the carbonic acid given off in its com-
bustion the sulphide of sodium and the caustic soda present are con-
verted into Carbonate. Mechanical carbonating furnaces have been
introduced, the most successful of which is that of JIactear, in which
there is a rotating circular hearth acted on by scrapers or ploughs.
Ordinary soda ash is at best an impure product containing always
some caustic soda, which, however, consideiing the purposes for
which it is used, can scarcely bo regarded as an impurity or defect.
Its value is deterniined by analysis and is calculated from the amount
of anhydrous soda (Na^O) it contains as carbonate or hydrate.
In many soda-works the black-ash process is purposely so con-
ducted as to produce much caustic soda, and the red liquor is then
worked up into caustic soda in the following manner. It is first
highly concentrated by boiling in a deep iron pan. To the con-
centrated solution nitrate of soda is added, which decomposes the
sulphide present with evolution of ammonia and formation of
sulpliate, thus Na^S -t- NaNO, + 2H.f) = Na,,SOj -i- NH, -I- NallO.
The evaporation is continued till practically all the water is ex-
pelled, and the heat is forced till fusion sets in. Then the remain-
ing sulphide of sodium with the cyanide is oxidized by the nitrate,
which breaks up thus — 2NaN03 = NajO-H2N + 50, with (prmatiou
of sulphate of soda and oxide of iron. Part of the carbon of tho
cyanogen separates as graphite (Pauli). The fused mass is allowed
to stand, when the suspended matter, including, singularly, most of
the alumina, settles down, leaving a perfectly clear liquid, which is
run into iron drums, where it solidifies. By means of this proocss,
which has been principally elaborated by Uerr Ph. Pauli of Hbchst
near Wiesbaden, a remarkably pure product can be obtained from
a very dirty liquor.
Refined Alkali.— OTixnary soda ash is sufficiently pure for most
imriioses for which the alkali is required in bulk ; but for glass
making, &c., it is necessary to remove all traces of iron. For this
purpose the ash is dissolved in water, and if a well carbonated ash
is under treatment it is merely well agitated and allowed to stand
quietly till impurities settle. By some manufacturers a small
amount of carbonate of lime is added to tho settling tank to carry
down the impurities. Ash containing iron salts, sulphide, and
coloured impurities is treated with a small pioportiou of chloride
of Umo to oxidi/o the iron and cause ita precipitation as liydratcd
ferric oxide. Tho settled liquor is boiled down, the crystals drained,
dried, and heated in a reverberato.-y furnace, and finally ground for
tho market.
Soda Cnjsiali ^washing soda) are similarly prepared, by forming
a strong solution of soda ash, allowing tho liquor to settle, and
running it into iargo coolers or crystallizing cones, iu whiih tlm
crystals form iu from one to two weeks, according to the eoolmts
of tho position. When tho crystallization is coinph i- !!.• -nut f
244
SODIUM
troken, the mother-liquor, still hoUling a large amount of soda, is I
run off for future use, and the crj'stals are broken up drained, and
dried for packing and use. Soda crystals contain 63 per cent, of
water and their principal employment is for domestic washing, for
■which their comparative non-causticity well fits them.
Sulphur Rccovcry.-0( the several raw mattnals of the Le Blanc
process, sulphur, now always used in the form of pyrites, is by far
tbrt most expensive. The sulphuric acid employed passes out in
valueless combination as crude sulphide of calcium and accumulates
in huge mounds. Under the influence of rain sulphide of calcium
in these heaps gradually assumes the forms of sulphide of hydroien
and hyd rated oxide of calcium,-CaS + 2H,0 = CaOHjO + H„b 1 he
hydro.'en sulphide combines in its turn with another quantity of
sulphide of calcium into CaS„H, which being soluble in water runs
off as yellow liquor to contaminate streams and give off sulphuretted
hydrogen gas with its disgusting smeU. By the action of atmo-
spheric oxygen part of the Ca&,H, loses its hydrogen as water, and
the remaining CaS^ passes into thiosu phate of calcium CaSA.
with simultaneous formation of polysulphides. Upon this latter
tendency Mond founded his original method for recovering sulphur.
He hastened the oxidation by blowing air through themoist waste
till a certain proportion of the sulphide was converted into thiosiU-
pliate, and the residue into sUlphhydrate CaH,S„, or polysulplude
The mass is lixiviated with water, the liquor decanted off, and mixed
with excess of hydrochloric acid, which produces H^S, and in genei-a.
sulphur, from the sulphhydrate and sulpludcs of calcium, with SO,
and sulphur from the thiosulphate. But 2H„S 4- SO, decompose each
other into 3S + 2H,0. Hence it is obvious that if the process of
oxidation is stopped at the right point, the whole of the sulphur
will be recovered as such. The precipitated sulphur is mixed with
water placed in a closed cylinder and fused by raising the temper-
ature of water round it in an outer casing above the melting point ol
sulphur.- The sulphur then runs together in the lower part of the
cylinder, whence it is drawn off by a pipe and cast into rolls. _ The
Mond process, of all the many sulphur-recovery processes yet intro-
duced, is the best ; but even it no more than pays working expenses,
and enables the manufacturer to end his process with an innocuous
chloride of -calcium (CaCU) without actual loss of money.
About 1880 considerable excitement was caused by a sulphur-
recovery process patented by Schaffner and Helbig in 18(8, which
was expected to revolutionize the soda trade. As these hopes have
not been realized, we merely state the principle of the process. _ 1 he
soda waste is digested with a solution of chloride ot magnesium,
which in the first instance leads to the formation of CaCl, and filgb.
But the latter is at once decomposed, with fonnation of magnesia
and sulphuretted hydrogen,-JlgS + 2H,0 = MgOH.O + H»S. The
sulphuretted hydrogen is caused to act on sulphurous acid wiUnu
a solution of chloride of calcium, when the sulphur settles m a
fUtrableform. The Uquor remaiuiug after the expulsion ot H„b
from the mixture of waste and chloride of magnesium consists ol
a precipitate of magnesia and a solution of chloride of calcium. By
blowing carbonic acid into the mixture the following decomposi-
tion is°effeeted-MgO + CO, + CaCl, = CaC03 + MgCl,-so that the
magnesium is recovered in iis original form and the calcium of the
waste obUined as carbonate, which may again be returned tothe
black ash roaster. This very pretty and complete process might
probably have been worked out as a practical success had the con-
viction not arisen that even with profitable sulphur recovery the
Le Blanc process \viU not long be able to hold its own against the
ammonia process. . n, r j. ti „<•
Ammonia Soda Process.— This process is based on the fact that
bicarbonate of ammonia, when added to a strong solution of common
salt, decomposes the salt with formation of a i)recipitate of bicar-
bonate of soda and a solution of ammoT^ium chloride (sal-ammoniac),
thus NaCl + (NH,)HC03=NH,Cl + NaHC03. The ammonia js re-
coverable from tie sal-ammoniac by distillation with lime, and,
upposing no waste to occur, is usable adinfinitum From bicar-
bonate the normal salt is easily prepared by the application of heat
_2NaHC03 = Na^COj -H CO^ + H„0. Thus by theory one-half of the
carbonic acid is recovered, and, supposing the quicklime for the
decomposition of the sal-ammoniac to be madsby heatingdimestone,
the loss of carbonic acid is n.ade up mcidentaUy from that source.
The onlv waste product which remains for disposal is the entirely
innocuous chloride of calcium made in recovering ammonia by means
of lime from sal-ammoniac. The ammonia process was first enun-
ciated and patented in England by Dyar & Hemming m 1833 ; and
works on the system were estabUshed in Cheshire and some localities
on the Continent, where it attracted great attention. Kumerous
patents, both English and Continental, followed, and many experi-
mental works we?e erected, which all failed to sustain themselves
In competition with the Le Blanc works. The principal difficulties
to be overcome were imperfect conversion of the salt and more
cspeclallyithe loss of ammonia ; and it was not till 1861 that real
economical success in the ammonia recovery apparatus was attained
by Ernest Solvay of CotdUct near Charleroi, Belgium Works on
the Solvay principle a-ere established at Couillct in 1863 ; and since
that date by the inventor and others, among whom ought to be men-
tioned Ludwig Mond, the process has heen so perfected that its
general adoption now appears to be only a matter of time. Already
on the Continent it has practically displaced the Le Blanc procew,
but in the United Kingdom there is as yet only one establishment
manufacturing ammonia soda. . . i »-
The first essential stage \n Solvay's process consists in saturatiiiB
the brine with ammonia. The brine, treated with milk of lime and
ammonium carbonate to precipitate magnesium and calcium salts,
and of proper deusity, is placed in two cylindrical close iron tanks,
which communicate by pipes at top and bottom with the ammonia
dissolver placed between them. The ammonia dissolver is a cylm-
drical vessel having the same height as the tanks and provided with
a perforated false bottom, down to which a tube is led through the
centre of the vessel, and by this tube the ammonia gas is introduced.
Coiled within the cylinder is a worm pipe, through which cold water ,
circulates. Each brine tank is put alternately in connexion with
the dissolver. Circulation' from the brine tank into the dissolve!
is kept up by mechanical agitation. As the ammonia becomes ab-
sorbed by the brine the temperature of the liquid rises rapidly, and
the cold water circulating within the coiled pipe keeps the temper-
ature down. As soon as sufficient ammonia has been passed into
the brine the stirrers in the brine tank are stopped ; the sludge of
lime and magnesia precipitate is drawn off as it settles at the bot om
of the brine tank, or when such precipitate is abundant it is -settled
and withdrawn in a special decanting tank. The decanted liquor
is filtered through fine cloth by pressure, and the filtrate is cooled
do^vn in a refrigerating apparatus previous to the next operation.
Trcatmq the Ammoniacal Brine with Carbonic And.— iOT this
purpose a cyUndrical tower is employed, divided internally into a
series of superimposed segments by diaphragms consisting of per-
forated dome-shaped plates. The tower is about 40 to 50 feet in
heit'ht and is kept nearly full of liquid, which is introduced by a
pipl half way up its side. Carbonic acid under a pressure 1-5 to 2
atmospheres is forced in at the bottom of the tower and works its
wav gradually upwards through the perforations in the diaphragms,
thus coming into intimata contact with the ammoniacal brine.
T^verv half hour a part of the pasty mixture of bicarbonate of soda
and ammonium chloride solution is dra;vn off and rep aced by fresh
linuor. The solid bicarbonate is separated out cither by centnluga
action or by a vacuum filter ; as thus obtained it is still-contaminated
with ammonia, of which it smells. To free the bicarbonate frora
this impuritv water is souirted over it till the smell almost entirely
'^'cOTTCra'oii mlo Soda Ash of the bicarbonate is essential; because
there is a comparatively limited demand for bicarbonate, and that
salt, moreover, obstinately retains an ammoniacal odour, which
lessens its value. The preparation of soda ash is attended with
considerable practical -difficulties, owing to the necessity of retam-
ing the contained ammonia. The bicarbonate is first exposed to .
comparatively low heat in a closed roaster, after which it is finished
ina muffle furnace at.a bright red heat The gases given off are
drawn by an air-pump into a washing apparatus, where the ammonu^
is retained, and the carbonic acid, which passes on is conductet_
to the absorption tower for again impregnating the ammoniaca,
brine. By tliis process the whole of the chlorine of commoji salt
comes away as waste ui the form of chloride of calcium. To obtain
that body in combination as hydrochloric acid. Solvay proposed
in his patent of 1872 to employ magnesia in place of lime in the
decomposition of the sal-ammoniac,- the so ution of chloride o
magnesium remaining after the distillation is boileu to dryness, and
being by the action of steam separated into magnesia and hydro-
chloric acid.-MgCl,-fH,0 = MgO + 2HCh ^^^"'^^1 tTti™
rally works in a circle, being changed into chloride on the liberation
of the ammonia from the sal-ammoniac, and recovered again as
magnesia with the formation of hydrochloric acid as above indi-
cated. But the expense of the process has hitherto been greater
than the value of the product obtained, and the one weak pomt
of the Solvay process is the loss of the hydrochloric acid, which
forms an important element in the Le Blanc cycle. The loss of
ammonia calculated as sulphate in the early days of the Solvay
process was as much as 9 per cent, on the carbonate of soda pro-
kucpd • but by successive improvements it has been reduced to not
more than 5 per cent. The Solvay plant is very exi>ensive, amount-
ing, according to his own estimate, to £1600 per ton of soda ash
produced daiTy ; but other authorities put the camtal exnendituie
as high as £2400 per ton .worked daily.
■ Cryolile Soda.-Oi the many processes other than those above
mentioned, which have been proposed for soda-making, the only
one practically employed is that in which cryolite forms the law
material. Cryolite, a fluoride of aluminium and sodium, Alt, -1-
3NaF is a mineral substance found in extensive deposits at Ivikat
(Ivi"t'ut) (61° 34' K. lat.) in south-west Greenland. For soda -
making the mineral is treated by a process discovered 1° 1S;;0 "JX
Professm- Julius Thomsen of Copenhagen It 13 ignited with cliaU
or limestone, whereby carbonic acid is driven off and fl"o"<l^ "^
calcium and aluminate of soda are fo™'=d,-2(.AlF3 + 3J^»f )t
6CaCOJ=6CaF„•^3NaAAls03+GCO,>. The aluminate of soda ^^
S O D — S O E
245
separated from the artificial fluoride of calcium by lixiviation, and
the solution so obtained is decomposed by treatment with carbonic
acid, which produces a precipitate of alumina available for aUira-
making, ic, leaving a solution of carbonate of soda. About 8000
tons of crj'oUte are annually treated in Pennsjlvania and in Denmark.
Statislks of Soda Trade. — No means exist for obtaining an
accurate statement of the extent of the soda trade ; and such
estimates as are published can only be accepted as approximations
based on knowledge of the productive capacity of existing works
and the general course of trade. Speaking at the Society of Chemi-
cal Industry (London section) in January 1883, the late Walter
Weldon gave the following estimate (in tons) of the soda produc;-
tion of the world at that date : —
Great Britain
France
Gemiauy
Austria
Belgium ....
United SUtes
Le Blanc
Soda.
380,000
70,000
56,500
89,000
Ammonia
Soda.
62,000
67,125
44,000
1,000
8,000
1,100
163,226
Total.
432,000
127,125
100.500
40,000
8,000
1,100
703,725
In these figiires the whole of the products made— soda ash crystals,
bicarbonate, caustic soda, &c. — are calculated in terms of pure car-
bonate, NaCO.,. Assuming the fairr-^ss of the calculation, we are
warranted in stating the present (1887) production of alkali, as pure
carbonate, to be not less than three quarters of a million of tons
annually. (W. D.— J. PA.)-
SODOM AND GOMORRAH. See Dead Sea, vol. vii.
pp. 1-3 ; comp. Pbcenicia, vol. xviii. p. 803, and Lot.
SODOMA, II, or, more properly, Sodona (c. 1479-
1549), Italian painter. Giannantonio Bazzi (who until
recent years was erroneously named Razzi) appears to
have borne also the name of " Sodona " as a family name ;
it is signed upon some of his pictures. While "Bazzi" wa?
corrupted into "Razzi," "Sodona" was corrupted into
"Sodoma"; and Vasari, followed by other writers on art,
accounts for the latter name by giving various and explicit
details which we leave undiscussed, for, if the painter did
not really pass by the appellation of "Sodoma," we .may
fairly infer that explanations which would have been ger-
mane to that appellation are not germane to the man
himself. Bazzi was born at Vercelli in Piedmont towards
1479, and appears to have been in his native place a
.scholar of the painter Giovenone. Acquiring thus the
.strong colouring and other distinctive marks of the Lom-
bard school, he was brought to Siena towards the close of
the 15th century by some agents of the Spannocchi family;
and, as the bulk of his professional life was passed in this
Tuscan city, he counts as a member of the Sienese school,
although not strictly affined to it in point of style. He
does not seem to have been a steady or laborious student
in Siena, apart from some attention which he bestowed
upon the sculptures of Jacopo della Quercia. Along with
Pinturicchio, he was one of the first to establish there the
matured style of the Cinqtiecento. His earliest works of
repute are seventeen frescos in the Benedictine monastery
of Monte Oliveto, on the road from Siena to Rome, illus-
trating the life of St Benedict, in continuation of the series
which Luca Signorelli had begun in 1498; Bazzi completed
the set in 1502. Hence he was invited to Rome by the
celebrated Sienese merchant Agostino Chigi, and was em-
ployed by Pope Julius XL in the Camera della Segnatura
in the Vatican. He executed two great compositions and
various ornaments and grotesques. The latter are still
extani; but the larger works did not satisfy the pope,
who engaged Raphael to substitute his Justice, Poetry,
and Theology. In the Chigi palace (now Farnesina)
Sodona painted some subjects from the life of Alexander
the Great ; Alexander in the Tent of Darids and the
Nuptials of the Conqueror with Roxana are more particu-
larly noticed. When Leo X. was made pope (1513) Bazzi
presented him with a picture of the Death of Lucretia (or
of Cleopatra, according to some accounts) ; Leo gave hiiil
a large sum of money in recompense and created him a
cavaliere. Bazzi afterwards returned to Siena, and at a
later date went in quest of work to Pisa, Volterra, and
Luccj From Lucca he returned to Siena, not long before
his death, which took place on 14th February 1549 (the
older narratives say 1554). He had squandered his pro-
perty and died in penury in the great hospital of Siena.
Bazzi had married in youth a lady of good position, but
the spouses disagreed and separated pretty soon afterwards.
A daughter of theirs married Barfeolommeo Neroni, named
also Riccio Sanese or Maestro Riccio, one of Bazzi's princi-
pal pupils.
It is said that Bazzi jeered at the Sistory of the Painters written
by Vasari, and that Vasari consequently traduced him ; certainly
he gives a bad account of Bazzi's morals and demeanour, and is
niggardly towards the merits of his art. According to Vasari, the
ordinary name by which Sodona was known was " I)* Mattaccio "
(the Madcap, the Maniac), — this epithet being fii-st bestowed upon
him by the monks of Monte Oliveto. "He dressed gaudily, like a
mountebank ; his house was a perfect Noah's ark, owing to the
strange miscellany of animals which ho kept there. He was a
cracker of jokes and fond of music, and sang some poems •composed
by himself on indecorous subjects. In his art Vasari alleges that
Bazzi was always negligent,— his early success in Siena, wliere he
painted many portraits, being partly due to want of comp 'tition.
As he advanced in age he became too lazy to. make any cu.'toons
for his frescos, but daubed them straight on upon the waU. Vasari
admits, nevertheless, that Bazzi produced at intervals some works of
very fine quality, and during his lifetime his reputatiou stood high.
The general verdict is that Sodona was an able master in ex-
pression, motion, and colour. His taste was something like that
of Da Vinci, especially in \he figures of wojnen, which have gi'ace,
sweetness, and uncommon earnestness. He is Tiot eminent for
drawing, grouping, or general elegance of form. His easel pictures
are rare. His most celebrated works are in Siena. la 3.
Domenico, in the chapel of St Catherine of Siena, are two frescos
painted in 1526, shomng Catherine in ecstasy and fainting as
she is about to receive the Eucharist from an angel, — a beautiful
and pathetic treatment. In the oratory of S. Bernardino, scenes
from the historyyjf the Madonna, painted by Bazzi in conjunction
with Pacchia and Beccafuml(1536 to 1538)— the Visitation and the
Assumption — ar4 noticeable. In S. Francesco are the Deposition
from the Cross (1513) and Christ Scourged ; bv many critics one
or otlier of these paintings is regarded as Bazzi-s masterpiece. In
the choir of the cathedral at Pisa is the Sacrifice of Abraham, and
in the gallery of Florence a St Sebastian.
SOEST, an ancient industrial to^vn in Westphalia,
Prussia, is situated in a fertile plain (Soester Borde),
27 miles to the east of Dortmund and 34 to the south-
east of Miinster. Its early importance is borne witness
to by its six fine churches, of which the most striking are
St Peters, St Mary-in-the-Fields, founded in 1314 and
restored in 1850-52, and the Roman Catholic cathedral,
founded in the 10th century by Bruno, brother of Otho
the Great, though the present building was erected in the
12th century. This last, with its very original facade, is
one of the noblest ecclesiastical monuments of Germany.
Remains of the broad wall (now partly enclosing gardens
and . fields) and one of the gates still remain ; but the
thirty-six strong totvers w:hich once defended the town
have disappeared and the moats have been converted into
promenades. Iron-working, the manufacture of soaj^ hats,
cigars, and bricks and tiles, linen-weaving, tanning, and
brewing, together with market-gardening and farming in
the neighbourhood, and trade in cattle and grain, are the
leading industries. The population in 1880 was 13,985,
and in 1885 14,848, of whom about GOOO were Roman
Catholics.
Mentioned in documents as early as the 9th century, Soest was
one of the largest and most important Hanseatic towns in the
Middle Ages, with a population estimated at from 30,000 to C0,000.
It was one of the chief emporiums on tlio early trading route be-
tween Westphalia and Lower Saxony. Its code of municipal laws
{Schran ; jus susatat.w), dating from 1111 to 1165, was one of the
earliest and best, and served ns a model even to Liibcck. On the
fall of Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony, Socst pnssed with the nst
of Angria to Cologne. In the 15th century the strife between the
townsmen and the archbishops broke out in open wur, and in lUi
246
S O F — S O H
the strciif; fortifications of the town withstood a long siege by an
arm}' of 60,000 men. The women of Soest are said to have distin-
guished themselves in this contest {Socster Fchde). Papal interven-
tion ended the strife and Soest was permitted to remain under the
protection of the dukes of Cleves. The prosperity of the town
waned in more modern times : in 1763 its population was only
3800 ; in 1816 it was 6687.
SOFALA, a seaport town on the east coast of Africa, at
the mouth of a river of the same name to the south of 20°
S. lat., the seat of a Portuguese commandant. It is now
a wretched place of about 1000 inhabitants, with not more
than twenty European residents, and, as its port is ob-
structed witTi sandbanks, there is only a small coasting
trade with Chiluari and Inhambane. But SofAla was
formerly a town of considerable importance, with a harbour
capable of holding a hundred large vessels.. Previous to
its conquest by the Portuguese in 150.5 it was the chief
and populous centre of a wealthy Jlohammedan state ; and
the first governors of the Portuguese East African posses-
sions were entitled captains-general of SofAla. The identi-
fication of Sofdla with Solomon's Ophir, to which Milton
alludes {Par. Lost, xi. 399-401), is untenable.
See Bull. Geogr. Soc. Mozambique (1882) for an account of the
Sofala mines ; and, generally, Edrisi, Climate i., 8th section ; Dapper ;
Baines, The Gold Segions of South Afr!'-" 'i S77) ; and Burton's
notes to his edition of Camoens.
SOFIA, since 1878 the capital of Bulgaria, though
previously only a district town of the Tuna (Danube)
vilayet of Turkey, is situated 1755 feet above the sea, in
the midst of a dreary plain between the Stara Planina or
main range of the Western Balkans and the bare but im-
posing granite mass of the Vitosh Mountains (3400 feet).
Itrstands at the meeting of five great routes from Nish and
Belgrade, Lom and Vidin, Plevna and Rustchuk, Philip-
popolis and Constantinople, and Kostendil and Salonica.
At present (1887) it is two days' journey from the nearest
railway station (Tatar-bazarjik),(and as the seat of govern-
ment is inconveniently near the south-west extremity of
the kingdom ; but it lies on the prospective great railway
route between Constantinople and Belgrade, and was in
the eyes of those who selected it the prospective capital of
a much more extensive territory. The climate of Sofia is
subject to severe seasonal and diurnal changes : in January
the thermometer sinks 4° below zero and in August ap-
l)roaches 100°, and the daily range is frequently 27 or 28
degrees. Minarets and gardens give a certain beauty to
the aspect of the town itself, but the outskirts are pain-
ftdly destitute of foliage. In an eastern suburb stands
the royal palace, a vast building which cost more than
4,000,000 francs ; and in that neighbourhood, on the site
of an abandoned Turkish quarter, quite a new " European "
. town has sprung up. The rest of Sofia retains its Turkish
character, with tortuous streets and mean wooden houses.
The modern cathedral and the archbishop's palace are both
large edifices of no special note. Of the many mosques
the most striking is the Buyuk-Jami, with its nine metal
cupolas ; but more historical interest attaches to the Sophia
mosque, occupying the highest point in the town to which
it gave its name. It is now completely in ruins (the result
of an earthquake), but tradition, which in this case is con-
firmed by the architecture of the building, asserts that it
was a Christian church erected by a certain Byzantine
princess Sophia. Kanitz in 1871 still observed remains
of old Byzantine frescos in the narthex. The public
baths occupy a very extensive building, with separate
suites of apartments for difi'erent nationalities or rather
religions. The water as it issues from the springs has a
temperature of 117°. Sofia exports hides and skins to
Vienna, <fec., and especially goat-skins to Marseilles ; its
principal imports are Indian corn, wheat, and alcoholic
liquors — the last a very large item. Formerly the popu-
Jttion was 30,000. In 1870 Kanitz found 19,000— a
liberal estimate — 8000 being Bulgarians, 5000 Turks, 5000'
Jews (a colony dating from the expulsion from Spain), 900
Gipsies. At present (1887) the total is 20,000. Close
to the north of the town are extensive remains of strong
Roman fortifications.
Sofia is the Scrdica or Sardica of the Romans and Greeks fso
called after the Serds or Sards), the Triadilza of the Byzantiins
writers, and the Sredec of the Slavs. " Sardica is my Rome," said
Constantine before he thought of his new capital on the Bosphoraa.
It had already been made the capital of Dacia Kipensis by Aurelian.
and about 343 it became famous as the seat of a church council
The town was plundered by Attila ; and in 809 it was captured by
the Bulgarians, who held it until the Turks got possession of it by
stratagem in 1378, or more probably 1382. In 1443 Sofia was for
a brief period occupied by the HnngJrian John Hunyady (Corvinus),
and on the defeat of his entei prise was laid waste by the retreating
army. In 1829 it was the headquarters of ilustapha Pasha of
Scutari, whose ravages have made the name of Albanian a word of
terror to the children in Sofia even now. The Russians entered
Sofia on 4th January 1878, after Gourko's passage of the Balkans.
Bee Kanitz, Donau Bvigarien, 1877 ; Laveleye, La Pininsuk dcsDalkans, 1&86.
SOGDIANA, or Sogdiajte, in Old Persian Sughuda, a
province of the Achsemenian empire, the eighteenth in
the list in the Behistun inscription of Darius (i. 16),
corresponded to the modem districts of Samarkand and
Bokhara ; that is, it lay north of Bactriana between the
Oxus and the Jaxartes and embraced the fertile valley of
the Polytimetus or Zarafshan. Under the Greeks Sogdiana
was united in one satrapy wth Bactria, and subsequently
it formed part of; the Bactrian Greek kingdom till the
" Scythians " (tne Yue-chi) occupied it in the middle of the
2d century B.C. (comp. vol. xviii. pp. 586 sq., 592 sq.). The
valley of the Zarafshan about Samarkand retained even
in the Middle Ages the name of the Soghd of Samarkand.
Arabic geographers reckon it. as one of the four fairest
spots in the world.
SOHAR, the^second port of 'OmAn, Arabia, situated
on the Gulf of 'Omdn in 24° 22' N. lat. 'and 56° 45' E.
long. It is a place of considerable trade and industry,
well built, fortified with walls and a castle, and inhabited
by a hospitable and far from bigoted population of the
'IbAdi sect. The anchorage is good, sheltered between two
promontories, and the surrounding country is populous
and fertile. Indeed the coast-land of 'Omdn is baturally
the most favoured part of Arabia.
Tlie town of Sohdr is older than Islam, and its cloths are men-
tioned in the life of Mohammed (Ibn Hisham, p. 1019). Before
the Moslem conquest it was in the hands of the Persians, and tiie
Persian name Mazuu is not uncommonly applied to it by older
Arabic writers. Under Islam it became the capital of 'Oman, and
it is sometimes called 'Oman, from which fact it has sometimes,
but very precariously, been identified with the Omana of classical
writers. In the earlier Middle Ages Soliar was one of the first
commercial cities of Islam on the Indian Ocean and had an active
part in the China trade. This prosperity was unabated when
Mokaddasi wrote of it (p. 92) towards the close of the 10th century ;
in the 12th century, when Edrisi wrote, the China trade was a thing
of the past ; and about 1"230 Ibn Mojawir describes it as a ruin in-
habited by the demons of the desert Its decay ap])ear3 to be
connected with the rise of other ports — Kalhat on the Arabian
and Ormuz on the Persian side of the Persian Gulf — but more
especially with the political convulsions of 'Oman. This district,
which has always had an isolated position in Eastern history, early
became a stronghold of the Khawaiij ('Ibadiya) and paid vei-y in-
termittent obedience to the caliphs tUl it was reduced by Mo'tadil
about . the year 900. Even after this conquest the native iman.j
held their ground in the mountainous inland country at Naz^va
(Istakhri, p. 26), and renewed the struggle for independence with
the Buwaihid and Seljuk sovereigns of Ears, who succeeded in these
regions to the power of the caliphate. Ibn ilojawir connects the
destruction of Sohar with these struggles, and, though he stems to
imply a later date, it is possible that his statement is to be com-
bined with what Ibn al-Athir (ya, 387) tells of the rising of Al-Rashid
billah about 1050. After this event there is a period of obscurity
in the annals ■ of 'Oman ; the independence of the country wjj
ultimately secured under the native (Azdite) princes of Nazwa, but
Sohar never recovered its importance. It is mentioned, however,
by Marco Polo, under the name of Soer, as trading in horses with
Malabar, and also by Ibn Batuta, and must therefore have been
resettled soon after the time of Ibn Mojdwir. §oliar was seized b:i
S O I — S O i
247
the Portuguese in 1508 ami held by them till shout 1650. In the
18th century Niebuhr speaks of it as a quite uniTiiportant place ;
■\VellsteJ in 1836 assigned to it a population of 9000 ; Palgrave in
1863 estimated the population at 21,000, an estimate the more re-
markable tliaf in the inten-al the town had suRcred severely from
the Wahhdbis. Tlie Red Sea Pilot (1883) gives the more probable
figure of 4000 to 5000.
SOISSONS.'a city of France, in the department of
Aisne, the seat of a bishopric and a fortified post on the
left bank of the Aisne at the junction of the Crise, lies
65 miles north-east of Paris by the railway to Laon. The
population in 1881 was 10,895 (11,112 in the commune).
The cathedral of Notre Dame St Gervais and St Protais,
begun in the second half of the 12th century and finished
about the end of the 13th, is 328 feet long and 87 wide;
the vaulting of the nave is 100 feet above the pave-
ment. The single tower dates from the middle of the
13th century and is a fairly good imitation of those of
Notre Dame of Paris, which it equals in height (216 feet).
The transepts are of different dates and dissimilar in their
arrangement. In the north transept there is a very fine
door on the east ; the south transept is the oldest and
most graceful portion of the whole edifice. The choir is
surrounded with eight square chapels, and the apse ■with
five large polygonal chapels, of which the three in the
middle (as well as the high windows of the choir) still
retain their fine 13th-century glass. The rose- window of
the north transept represents the life of the Virgin in
twelve medallions. The high altar is flanked by two
marble figures representing the annunciation and above it
is an Adoration of the Shepherds ascribed to Rubens ; the
cathedral also has some rich 16th-century tapestries. Con-
siderable remains still exist of the magnificent abbey of St
Jean des Vignes, where Thomfis a Becket resided from 1161
to 1170, and which was rebuilt in the 13th century; these
include the ruins of two cloisters (the smaller dating from
the Renaissance), the refectory, and above all the cathedral-
like fagade of the church (recently restored). Of the three
portals with twisted columns the central one is adorned
with statues ; -above them runs a gallery, over which again
is a large window; the two unequal towers (230 and
246 feet) of the 15th and 16th centuries are surmounted
by beautiful stone spires, which command the town.
The ruins of this fine building are unfortunately occupied
by the military authorities. The church of St Leger,
erected in 1131) and rebuilt at the beginning of the 13th
century, was formerly attached to an abbey of the G6nov6-
fains. . Beneath are two crypts of the 12th and 13th
centuries. Of the abbey church of St Pierre, built in the
12th century in the Romanesque style, the only remains
are the facade and two bays of the choir. The royal abbey
of Notre Dame was founded in 660 for monks and nuns
by Leutrade, wife of Ebroin, the celebrated mayor of the
palace. The number of the nun.s (216 in 858), the wealth
of the library in manuscripts, the valuable relics, the high
birth of the abbesses, the popularity of the pilgrimages,
all contributed to the importance of this abbey, of which
there e.xist only some inconsiderable remains. The wealth-
iest of all the abbeys in Soissons and one of the most
important of all France during the first two dynasties was
that of St Miidard, on the right bank of the Aisne, founded
in 560 by Lothairo I., beside the villa of Syagrius, which
had become the palace of the Frankish kings. St M6dard,
apostle of Vermandois, and Kings Lothaire and Sigebert
were buried in the monastery, which became the residence
of 400 monks and the meeting-place of several councils.
It was there that Childeric III., the last Merovingian, was
deposed and Pippin the Short was crowned by the papal
legate ; and there Louis the Pious was kept in captivity
in 833. The abbots of St Mcdard coined money, and in
Abelard's time (12th century) were lords oi 220 villages,
farms, and manors. At the battle of Bouvines (1214) the
abbot commanded 150 vassals. In 1530 St il^dard was
visited by a procession of 300,000 pilgrims. But the
religious wars ruined the abbey, and, although it was
restored by the Benedictines in 1637, it never recovered
its former splendour. Of the seven churches and the con-
ventual buildings of the ancient foundation there hardly
remains a trace. The site is occupied by a deaf and dumb
institution, the chapel of which stands over the crypt of
the great abbey church, which was altered in the 12th
century. In the crypt is a stone cofl5n, said to have been
Lothaire's, and close at hand is an underground chamber,
reputed to have been the place of captivity of Louis the
Pious. The civil buildings of Soissons are not of much
interest. The hotel de ville contains a museum with
scientific and arohceological collections ; the h6tel dieu
goes back to the 13th century ; the library contains 40,000
volumes and curious manuscripts. Among the industrial
establishments are tanneries, saw-mills, and foundries and
factories for the production hi stoves, agricultural im-
plements, candles, and chocolate. Grain, flour, haricot
beans of exceptional quality, pease, wool, hemp, flax,
cattle, timber, and charcoal are the principal articles of
trade. There is also a large bottle factory, and work is
done for the flannel and blanket factories of Rheims.
Soissons is generally believed to occupy the site of the oppidum
of Gallia Belgica called Noviodunum by Cassar ; but some v.Titers
identify this place wit^b Noyon, Noyant, or Nouviou. One thing
is clear, that this oppidum was the capital of the Suessiones, wlio
occupied twelve towTis and whose king, Divitiacus, one of the most
powerful in Gaul, had extended his authority even beyond the sea
among the Britons. In 58 B.C. Galba, king of the Suessiones,
separated from the confederation of the Belgians and submitted to
the Romans. At the beginning of the empire Noviodunum took
the name of Augusta SwesHonum, and afterwards that of Sucssiona,
and became the second capital of Gallia Belgica, of which Rheims
was the metropolis. The town was before long surrounded with a
regular wall and defended by a citadel ; and it became the starting-
point of several military roails (to Rheims, Chateau-Thierry, Meaux,
Paris, Amiens, and St Quentin). Christianity was introduced by
St Crispin and St Crispiuian, men of noble birth, who, however,
earned their livelihood by shoemaking, and thus bccaine patrons of
that craft. After their martyi'dom- in 297 their work w'as continued
by St Sinitius, the first bishop of Soissons. After the barbarians
had crossed the Rhine and the Meuse Soissons became the metro-
polis of the Roman possessions in the north of Gaul, and on the
defeat of Syagrius by Clovis the Franks sei:!od the town. It was
. at Soissons that Clovis married Clotilde, and, though ho afterwards
settled at Paris, Soissons was the capital of his eldest son Lothaire,
and afterwards of Chilperic I., king of Neustria. It was not till the
time of Chilperic's son, Lothaire II., that the kingdom of Soissons
was incorporated with that of Paris. In 752 Pippin the Short was
at Soissons proclaimed king by an assembly of hndes and bishops,
and he was tlicra. crowned by the papal legate St Boniface before
being crowned at Saint Denis by the pope liimsolf. Louis the Pious
did penance there after being deposed by the assembly at Com-
piegue. Under Charles the' Fat (886) the Normans failed in an
attempt against the town, but laid waste St Jledard and the neigh-
bourhood. In 923 Charles the Simple was defeated outsitle the
walls by the supporters of Rudolph of Burgundy, and Hugli the
Great besieged and partly burnod the town in 948. Under tlio
first Capets Soissons was held by hereditary counts, frequently at
war with the king or the citizens. Thus the latter bought in
1131 a communal charter from Louis VI. .and their bishop. In
1155, at an assembly of prelates and barons held at Soissons, Louis
VII. issued a famous decree forbidding all private wais for a space
of ten years ; and in 1325 Charles the Fair replaced the mayor of
Soissons by a royal provost dependent on the bailiwick of Vermandois,
the inhabitants retaining only the right of electing four ichniitu.
Louis of Chatillon, count of Soissons, was killed at Cricy, and liis
son, a hostage for King John in England, soUl his countship to
Enguerrand do Coucy to obtain money for his ransom in 1367.
Finally the last count of Soissons, sprung from a branch of the
house of Bourbon, rebelled against Lonis XIII., and deflated tlio
royal troops at La Marfee in 1611, but perished in the battle. Tlio
town had to suffer severely during the war of the Hundred Years ;
in 1414, when it w.as held by llic Bnrgnndinns, it was raptured
and sacked by the Ai-magnacs under the daujihin ; and t'lia s.anio
fate again befell it six times within twenty years. The (realy of
Arras (1435) brought it again under the royal authority. It w.ia
sacked by Charles V. in 1544 and in 1665 by the Huguenots, wUa
248
S O K — S O K
laid the clinrches in ruins and, supported by the prince of Conde,
count of Soissons, kept possession of the town for six months.
During the League Soissons eagerly joined the Catholic party.
Mayenue made the town his principal residence, and he died there
in 1611. A European congress was held there in 1728. In 1814
Soissons was captured and recaptured by the allies and the French.
In 1815, after 'Waterloo, it was a rallying point for the vanquislied,
and it was not occupied hy the Russians till the 14th- of August.
In 1870 it capitulated to the Germans after a bombaxdment of three
days.
SOKOTO, an important Fulah kingdom or empire in
Central Soudan, comprising wliat are frequently called the
Haussa states. Its boundaries (see vol. i. pi. II.) are irregu-
larly marked off by the plateau lands of Air or Asben on
the north, the kindred Fulah state of Gandu on the \vest,
while the river Binu6 practically forms its southern limit
as far as the meridian of 10° E.; beyond this it runs south
into the Congo basin. On the east lies the kingdom of
Bornu. From north-west to south-east Sokoto has a length
little short of 900 English miles and its average breadth
is about 280. The whole area has been roughly computed
to be equal to that of Spain (about 195,000 square miles),
and to have a population of from ten to twelve millions.
The country may be described as a great undulating glain,
rarely exceeding 1000 feet in height, with the exception of
the province of Bauchi in the centre, which runs into a
highland region with heights of 3000 feet, and the still
more imposing masses of Adamawa- in the south, which
are said to attain an altitude of 10,000 feet in Mount
Alantika. In other, respects Sokoto presents more varied
features, chiefly determined by the amount of rainfall,
though the varying fertility of the soil is a not unimport-
ant factor. In the southern parts, where there are almost
perpetual rains, large streams and rivers are numerous,
— the feeders of the Binu6, "the great eastern (left-hand)
tributary of the Niger. Here grow the virgin forests with
giant growths and exuberant foliage, with creepers, with
bananas and plantains, palm-oil trees an'd yams. In the
more temperate — because more elevated — districts of the
middle area, with a smaller rainfall, the vegetation is less
luxuriant, and such fruits as the date, lime, and pome-
granate are ctdtivated. In the northern parts the climate
is still more arid, and the country is burned up for the
greater part of the year. This is the region of acacias and
mimosas, of baobabs, of the branching diim palm and the
curiously bulged deleb. Here are no forests nor rank
grass, while the exigencies of a dense population have
caused the clearing away of the bush, except on the
most barren spots, where it supplies the necessary fuel for
domestic purposes. In this northern district there are no
streams except in the wet season, and the wants of the
people are supplied by fountains in the more favoured
places, and by wells — frequently very deep — in those not so
advantageously situated. Lying within the tropics, Sokoto
is subject to excessive heat, — damp and steamy in the
south, dry and furnace-like in the nt>rth, where it suffers
from the hot winds from the Sahara. In Adamawa the
lainy season — or, to be more correct, the season of excessive
rains — commences in April and lasts till October or later,
while in Gober in the north the rains commence in June
and seldom last more than three months, during which the
country becomes transformed from a repellent desert into
a well-cultivated nursery garden.
For Central Africa Sokoto may be described as fairly healthy,
though, as may be expected from a conjunction of excessive heat
with excessive rain, fevers are not uncommon in the southern parts,
while ophthalmia is prevalent in the north, especially among the
poorer classes, who are compelled to expose themselves to the blind-
ing dust from the deserts and the excessive glare of the sun reflected
frcm the burning sands.
The nataral productions of Sokoto are such as are more or less
common throughout the whole of the Soudan (?.u). Among
cereals rice and wheat are cultivated in many parts, though the ,
staple productions are Kaflre corn, millet, and maize. Sweet potatoes.
ground nuts, yams, onions, and other vegetables are largely groTm,
Of fruits dates, pomegranates, citrons, and bananas abounJ, iia
more restricted areas. The Sliea butter tree supplies an excellent oil
for lamps, and also for cooking, though it is only used by the poorer
classes. The palm-oil tree is only found in the damp b^in of th/!
Binue. The most important vegetable products are cotton and'
indigo, which are universally grown. The cotton is manufactureti
into cloth, being used by the native population as well as largely
expo:-tcd to neighbouring countries. In some parts a species of
silk found in the forests is largely used, and the people of Yakoba
in Bauchi are said to rear the silkworm. Of mineral products thert
seem to be few, though it is known that both silver aod lead occur
in the Binue area. Iron is extensively diffused and of excellent
quality.
The inhabitants of this extensive region, held together by a-
conquering race and not by any natural tie into one common
kingdom, are of diverse tribes and affinities. They, however, may
be roughly divided into three groups. {l)First come the pure Negro-
races of Adamawa, of which the chief tribe is the Batta. (2) Thfr
Haussa form the mass of the population except in Adamawa. The«
are pre-eminent among Negroes for their physical appearance and
intellectual abilities. They are wonderfully skilled in various arts
and industries and noted for their commercial genius and enterprise.
Mohammedanism is their religion, and indeed in all respects they
are well advanced on the road to civilization. They are vjery fond
of voluminous clothes. (3) The Fulahs are a Hamitic race, who-
from being simple herdsmen in the beginning of the 1 9th centuiy
have become the rulers, and masters over a hundred alien races be-
tween the Atlantic and Lake Tchad. They have not the commercial
or industrial skill of the Haussa, but in other respects have reached
a higher level. They are of slender build and are distinguished by
their light coppery colour. The inhabitants of Sokoto live mostly
in large towns, many of which "contain from 10,000 to 20,000 in-
habitants. These towns are all protected by strong mud walls ami
outer dry moats. Their interior is divided into a series of com-
pounds, each entered through a flat -roofed audience chamber-
Inside are the beehive-shaped huts of the household. The gate-
ways are also strongly fortijfied. The ruler over Sokoto is a Fulab
sultan, whose power is absolute, though tempced by a species ot"
feudal system. The governors of some of the larger provinces,
though owning allegiance to the sovereign, are mostly hereditary,
and beyond sending a yearly tribute are practically independent.
The tie indeed is more religious than anything else. The great
weakness of the empire is its want of coherence and the absence of
a strong central Government. Yet, though always appearing to
be on the point of falling to pieces, it contrives to keep together.
The condition in which Barth found it in 1855 was practically the
same as when the present writer visited it in 1885.
The chief pro^'inces of Sokoto are Zanphoro, Zaria, Katsena,
Bauchi, Kano, and Adamawa. The most important towns are —
Sokoto, the acknowledged capital of the empire, famed chiefly foi-
its leather-work and straw hats (it divides with "Wurnu the dis-
tinction of being the residence of the sultan ; Clapperton dieil
herein 1837); Wurnu, about 18 miles farther east, the present {1887J
headquarters of the court ; Kano, the great commercial emporiunt
of Central Soudan ; and Yakoba, ■chiefly noted for its large size, —
said to contain 150,000 inhabitants.
The history of Sokoto may be said to have commenced with the
19th century. Previous to that date little is known further thaa
that .the country was divided among a number of small chiefs,
a prey to the powerful kings of Bornu, Kebbi, and Songhwal
(Songhai). In 1S02 the Fulahs, then little regarded and semi-
serfs in' position, were scattered all over the country, apparently
mthout any national tie to imite them to common action. At
last, however, an imam — one Othraan dan Fodio — appeared, who-
with the watchword of Islam gave a new life to his tribesmen and
in an incredibly short time transformed them from peaceable nomads
into soldiers of the Crescent, and after a few initial reverses swept
like a whirlwind over an enormous area, establishing himself ast
rider and Jlohammedanism as the religion of the whole of Central
Soudan. At his death the parts now known as Sokoto fell to the-
share of his son Bello, and in the family of Othmau the reins of
government have since remained, though the descent is not as a.
rule from father to son, but either to a brother or a brother's son.
The latest phase in the history is the proclaiming of a protector-
ate over a part of Sokoto on the Binue by the British Govern-
ment, and the" handing over of the administration of the Niger
region to the Royal Niger Company. To this company the sultan,
has conceded all his rights on the Binue and a monopoly of trade-
throughout his dominions, thus making them practically mastery
of all foreign inlercoui'se.
The most important sources of information regarding Sokoto are — Clapper-
ton's Joitrneys in the early part of the 19th century ; Barth's Travels in Central
Africa between 1849 and 1S55— a perfect mine of hifonnation ; and Rohlfs's Beise^
durch Norda/rika vom MiCtdmeer nack dem Tsc}iad-See in 186G-67. Among later
and minor travellers have been Flegel, who visited Sokoto in ISSO, and Thomson,
who conducted a commercial and political mission to the court of the sultats-
in 16S5. 'J- TH.)
S O L— S O L
249
SOLAN GOOSE See Gannet.
SOLARIO, Ajjtonio (c. 1382-1455), a painter of lead-
iug importance in the Neapolitan scbool, is commonly
'Called Lo Zingaro, or The Gipsy. His father is said to
have been a travelling smith. To all appearance Antonio
■was born at Civita in the Abruzzi, although it is true
that one of his pictures is signed "Antonio de Solario
"Venetus," which may possibly be accounted for on the
ground that the signature is not genuine. Solario is said
to have gone through a love-adventure similar to that of
the Flemish painter, Quintin Massys. He was at first a
smith, and did a job of work in the house of the prime
Neapolitan painter Colantonio del Fiore ; he fell in love
-with Colantcnio's daughter, and she with him j and the
father, to stave him off, said it he would come back in ten
years an accomplished painter the young lady should be
iis. Solario studied the art, returnee in nine years, and
claimed and obtained his bride. "The fact is that Colantonio
del Fiore is ©ne of those painters who never existed ;
consequently his daughter never existed, and the whole
story, as relating to these particular personages, must be
nntrue. Whether it has any truth, in relation to some un-
identified painter and his daughter, is a separate question
which we cannot decide. Solario made an extensive round
«f study, — first with Lippo Dalmasio in Bologna, and
-afterwards in Venice, Ferrara, Florence, and Rome. On
returning to Naples he rapidly took the first place in his
art. His principal performance is in the court of the
3nonastery of S. Severino — twenty large frescos illustrat-
ing the life of St Benedict, now greatly decayed ; they
present a vast variety of figures and details, with
dexterous modelling and colouring. Sometimes, however,
liO Zingaro's colour is crude, and he generally shows
-weakness of draughtsmanship in hands and feet. His
tendency is that of a naturalist, — the heads life-like and
individual, and the landscape backgrounds better invented
and cared for than in any contemporary. In the Studj
gallery of Naples are three pictures attributed to this
master, the most remarkable one being a Madonna and
Child Enthroned with Saints. The heads here are reputed
to be mostly portraits. Solario initiated a mode of art
new in Naples ; and the works painted between his time
and that of Tesauro are locally termed " Zingareschi."
He had many scholars, but not of pre-eminent standing—^
Nicola Vito, Simone Papa, AngioliUo Roccadirame, Pietro
and Ippolito dal Donzello. It has often been said that
Solario painted in oil, but of this there is no evidence.
SOLDER is a metallic alloy or metal employed for
cementing or binding-together two metallic surfaces. The
solder is applied to the surfaces to be united in a molten
state, and it is therefore generally either a more fusible
body than the metal to be acted on or it is presented in
a more fusible condition. The process of autogenous
soldering consists in uniting the individual metallic edges
themselves by melting and fusing them in the heat of the
o.xyhydrogen blowpipe or by means of an ignited blast
of mixed coal gas and air. Autogenous soldering is
extensively used in connexion with large plumber work.
Ordinary solders are divided into hard and soft classes,
the hard comprising such as require a red heat for their
melting. The soft solders used by plumbers and tinsmiths
consist of variable mixtures of lead and tin, and for
pewterers' use bismuth is added to these. The hardest
brazing solder has equal parts of copper and zinc, and for
softer qualities increased amounts of zinc with tin and
■sometimes antimony are employed. For fine jewellery
alloys of gold, silver, and copper are used ; silver solder is
employed for inferior qualities, and even common soft
solder finds extensive employment in the jcwulltry trade.
.Silver is the proper solder for German silver manufactures
22- :r
also ; and gold is the medium for joining the edges ot
platinum vessels. In soldering, the metallic edges to be
united must be free from oxidation and dirt ; and to keep
them unoxidized during the operation several fluxes are
used, such as borax in brass soldering, rosin and solution
of zinc chloride for tin-plate, zinc chloride for zinc, rosin
and tallow for lead and tin, and olive oil in pewter worL
Special machinery has been devised for the soldering of
the tinned cases now so extensively employed in the
preserved food trade. In common soft soldering the solder
is melted and applied to the joint by a heated iron or
copper soldering bolt, but solders are also applied by being
melted on in the open fire, or in the muffle furnace, by
immersing the joint in a bath of molten solder, or by
pouring the molten material on the joint. In dealing
with hard solders the heat of the blowpipe flame is used.
SOLE. Soles are a group of Fiat-Fishes (Pleuronec-
tidse), which is represented by numerous species in all suit^
able localities within the temperate and tropical zones ;
they become, however, scarce in the southern parts of the
southern temperate zone, and are absent altogether in some
districts — for instance, on the coasts of southern Australia.
Many of the species enter fresh water freely, and some
have become thoroughly acclimatized in it. Soles are a
highly specialized type of flat-fish ; their mouth is very
narrow, twisted round to thr blind side, and small teeth
are developed on that side only. As they always lie or
swim on one side, th(, pectoral fins have ceased to have
a function, and consequently these organs are reduced in
size, and in many of the species are mere rudiments or are
lost entirely. The eyes are small, invariably on the right
side of the fish, the upper occupying a position more
or less in advance of the lower. Soles are littoral fishes,
inhabiting sandy .bottoms,, shifting with the season from
shallow into somewhat deeper water. Like all flat-fishes
they are carnivorous, but feed on small animals only;
none attain to a large size, scarcely exceeding that of
2 feet. Of the forty species kno'wn of the genus Solea,
four are found on the British coast ; the one most gene-
rally known and commercially most important is the
Common Sole {Solea solea) ; it seems to occur in greater
or less abundance on all flat coasts of Europe, but its
numbers have been considerably thinned within the last
quarter of a century, at least on the British coasts, doubt-
less in consequence of the introduction of the trawl. At
any rate, that over-fishing is the cause of the decrease of
this valuable table fish is amply proved by the fact that
simultaneously with tie quantity the average weight of
the fish has- been diminished, soles of 12 inches in length
and of 8 ounces in weight being now in many localities
the largest that can be obtained. At present young
specimens form the majority of the soles in the market,
and a,re sold under the names of "slips" or "tongues."
During the breeding-season, which falls in the months
from February to April, soles lose much of their flavour.
It is a singular fact that male soles seem to be almost
unknown, and some ichthyologists account for it by sup-
posing that the males remain much smaller than the
females, and are overlooked in consequence. The Lemon
Sole {Solea aurantiaca) is much less esteemed than the
common sole, and more rarely seen in the market, prob-
ably because it is locally distributed in deeper water. It
is of a yellow colour, marbled with brown and irregularly
spotted with black ; the pectoral fin is ornamented with
an ovate black spot on its hinder half. Even when this
bright coloration has disappeared in the fish after death,
it may always be distinguished from the common sole by
its large dilated nasal opening on tb6 blind side, winch
is surrounded by a broad fringe. The Variegated Pole
{SoUa varitgalQ.) is at times taken in considerable nunibora
250
S O L — S 0 L
on the south coast by means of the trawl, and esteemed as
a table fish. It differs from the two preoeaing species by
the rudimentary condition of the pectoral fins, that of the
blind side being minute. The colour is brown ; darker
bands cross the body, and are darkest on the dorsal and
aual fins, where they appear as a row of about six large
spots. It does not appear to grow to the same size as the
common sole. The fourth British species, Solea miniita,
is still smaller, not much exceeding 5 inches in length ; it
is therefore not of commercial importance, although it
may be caught at times in the trawl in large numbers.
As in the preceding species, the pectoral on the blind side
is minute, but that of the right side is large enough to
show a distinct black spot. The colour of the body is
brownish or greyish, with small black spots, and every
sixth or seventh ray of the dorsal and anal fins is black.
Flat Cshes resembling soles abound on the shores of the Indian
Ocean beside the true soles, but they have the eyes on the left
."iide of the bead and lack pectoral fins altogether. They have been
referred, therefore, to distinct genera, such as Plagusia and
CynoglossJis.
SOLEURE, or Solothuen, is one of the cantons of
Switzerland, ranking as tenth in the Confederation, and
taking its name from its chief town. As it consists simply
of the territories won by the city, its irregular shape is
easily accounted for. It takes in most of the valley of
the Aar between the towns of Soleure and Olten, but
stretches across the eastern Jura to Dornach not far from
Basel, while to the south it tends in the direction of Bern.
The total area is 305 9 square milesj of which all but 25-4
square miles is classed as "productive," 103'3 square miles
of this being covered by forests. In other words, 91 '7 per
cent, is fertile. The highest point in the canton is the
Hasenmatte (4754 feet), in the range behind the town of
Soleure, in which too is the Weissenstein (4213 feet), so
•well known as a great centre for the air and whey cure, as
also for its fine "view. In 1880 the population of the
canton was 80,424 (an increase of 5754 on the census of
1870), the women outnumbering the men by 1704. Of
these no fewer than 79,514 are German-speaking.
Soleure now includes 63,037 Roman Catholics to 17,114
Protestants, but in the ten years 1870-1880 the latter
increased by 4666, the former only by 965. Ecclesiastic-
ally the districts now forming part of the canton belonged
till 1814 to the dioceses of Lausanne, Basel, and Con-
stance ; but since the complete reorganization of 1828 it
is part of the diocese of Basel, and the bishop of Basel
lives in the city of Soleure.
The only places of any size in the canton are its capital,
Soleure (7668 inhabitants), which possesses the finest
armoury in Switzerland, and Olten (3979). It is counted
as one of the most fertile and productive cantons in the
Confederation, and exports iron, wood, marl, marble, glass,
&c. In educational matters it takes a high place, and its
two chief towns are connected by a railway, Olten being
one of the principal railway junctions in Switzerland, and
the meeting-place of the St Gotthard railway with the
main lines branching off to the north, east, and west.
An old rhyme claims for the town of Soleure the fame of -being
the oldest place in "Gallia" save Treves. Certainly its name
" Salodurum " is found in Eoman inscriptions (the termination
possibly pointing to a Celtic origin), and its position as command-
ing the approach to the Rhine from the south-west has led to its
being more than once strongly fortified. Situated just on the
borders of Alamannia and Burgundy, it seems to have inclined to
the latter allegiance, and it was at Soleure that in 1038 the
l?urgundian nobles made their final submission to the emperor
Conrad II. The medieval town grew up round the house of
secular canons founded in honour of St Ursus and St Victor (two
of the Theban legion who are said to have been martyred here in
tte 3d century) by Queen Bertha, either the mother of Charlemagne
and wife of Pippin (8th century) or the more famous wife of EudoTph
JI., king of Burgundy (10th century), and was naturally in the
diocese of Lausanne. The prior and canons had many rights over
the town, but criminal jurisdiction and the "advocatia of the
house remained with the kings of Burgundy, passed to the Zaringen.
dynasty, and on its extinction in 1218. reverted to the emperor.
The city thus became a free imperial city, and in 1252 shook off
the jurisdiction of the canons and took them under its protection.
In 1295 we find it allied with Bern, and this connexion is the key
to its later history. It helped Bern in 1298 in the great fight
against the nobles at the Dornbiihl, and again at Laupen in 1339
against the jealous Burgundian nobles. It was besieged in 1322
by Duke Leopold of Austria (the defeated of Morgarten) during the
struggle for the empire, but he was compelled to withdraw. In
tlio lith century the government of the town fell into the hands
of the guilds, which practically filled all the public offices. Through
Bern (which became a member in 1353) Soleure was drawn into
association with the Swiss Confederation. An attempt to surprise
it in 1382, made by the decaying Kyburg branch of the Hapsburgs,
was foiled, and resulted in the admittance of Soleure in. 1385 into
the Swabian League and in its sharing in the Sempach war.
Though Soleure took no part in that battle, she is included in the
Sempach ordinance of 1393 and in the great treaty of 1394 by
which the Hapsburgs renounced their claims to aU territories
within the Confederation. In 1411 she in vain sought to be
admitted into the Confederation, a privilege only gianted to her in
1481 at the diet of Stanz, after she had taken part in the Aargau,
Italian, Toggenburg, and Burgundian wars. It was also in the
15th century that by purchase or conquest the town acquired the
main part of the territories forming the present canton. In 1529
the majority of the "communes" went over to the Reformers, and
men were sent to fight on Zwingli's side at Kappel (1531), but in'
1533 the old faith regained its sway, and in 1586 Soleure was a
member of the Golden or Borromean League. Though the city
ruled the surrounding districts, the peasants were fairly treated, and
hence their revolt in 1653 was not so desperate as in other places."
Soleure was the usual residence of the French ambassador, and no
doubt this helped on the formation of a "patriciate," for after
1681 no fresh citizens were admitted, and later we find only twenty-
five ruling families distributed over the eleven guilds. Serfage
was abolished by Soleure in 1785. The old system of the city
ruling over eleven baili^vicks came to an end in March 179S, when
Soleure opened its gates to the French army. She was one of the
six "directorial" cantons under the-1803 constitution. In 1814 the
old aristocratic government was set up again, but this was finally
broken down in 1839, Soleure in 1832 joining the League of the Seven
to guarantee the maintenance of the new cantonal constitutions.'
Though distinctly a Roman Catholic canton, she did not join the'
" Sonderbund," and voted in favour of the federal constitutions of
1S4S and 1874. Since 1830 she has revised her constitution in
1840, 1850, 1856, and 1875, besides three partial revisions of 1867,
1869, and 1881. The present constitution may be described as an
ultramontane democracy, the priests having very great influence.
The " Kantonsrath " or legislative assembly is elected by all
citizens over twenty yeajs of age, in the proportion of one member
to 800 inhabitants. This assembly selects the " Ef.gierungsrath "
or executive, consisting of five members. In both cases the period
of office is five years, though on the demand of 4O0O citizens a
popular vote must be taken as to whether the existing members
shall continue to sit or not. In the canton the " obligatory
referendum " and the "initiative " are legal. By the former all
laws passed by the assembly, and all financial resolutions involving
the expenditure of 100,000 francs or of an annual sum of 20,000
francs, must be approved by a popular vote. By the latter 2000
citizens can compel the assembly to consider any proposal for
making a new law or for amending an old one. Further, the
demand of the majority of the assembly or of 3000 citizens is
sufficient to necessitate a popular vote as to the advisability of
revising the constitution, the revised draft itself requiring a
fui'ther popular vote.
SOLI, an ancient town of Asia Minor, on the coast of
Cilicia, between the rivers Lamus and Pyramus, from each
of which it is about 62 'miles' distant. Colonists- from
Argos in Greece and Lindus in Rhodes are described as
the founders of the town, -which is first mentioned in
history at the. time of the expedition of the younger
Cyrus. In the days of Alexander the Great it was so
wealthy that that conqueror exacted from its inhabitants a
fine of 200 talents. In the war between ilithradates and
the Romans Soli was destroyed by Tigranes, but it was
subsequently rebuilt by Pompey, who settled there many
of the pirates whom he had captured, and called the town
after himself, Pompeiopolis. Soli was the birthplace of
Chrysippus the Stoic and of the poets Philemon and
Aratus. The bad Greek sooken there gave rise to the
term <roAooctcr/tos, "solecism," which has found its way
into all the modern languages of Europe. Extensive ruins
still mark the site of the town ; the place is now called
Mezetlu.
SOLICITOR. See Attorney. It should be noticed
that by the Supreme Court of Judicature Act, 1873, § 87,
all persons admitted as solicitors, attorne)'a, or proctors of
any English court, the jurisdiction of which was transferred
by the Act to the High Court of Justice or the Court of
Appeal, were thenceforth to be called solicitors of the
supreme court. The title of attorney-general, however,
still remains as that of the highest law officer of the crown.
The Legal Practitioners Act, 1876, and the Solicitors Act,
1877, enabled solicitors to practice as proctors in the eccle-
siastical courts (see Procioe)- The Conveyancing Act,
1881, having made great changes in the practice of con-
veyancing, it became necessary to place the remuneration
of solicitors upon a new basis. This was done by the
Solicitors Eemuneratiou Act, passed on the same day as
the Conveyancing Act. It provides for the framing of
general orders, fixing the principles of remuneration with
reference inter alia to the skill and responsibility involved,
not, as was generally the case before, with reference simply
to the length of the documents perused or prepared.
Greneral orders in pursuance of the Act were issued in
1882.
In Scotland solicitors in the supreme court are not, as in
England, the only jierscns entitled to act as law agents. They
share the privilege with writers to the signet in the supreme court,
with solicitors at law and procurators in the inferior courts. This
diSercnce is, however, now of little importance, na by the Law
Agents Act, 1873, any person duly admitted a law agent is entitled
t3 practise before any court in Scotland. In the United States
the term solicitor is used in some States in the senss which it boro
in England before the Judicature Act, viz., a law agent practising
before a court of equity.
Many of the great public olRces in England and the United States
""ave their solicitors. In England the treasury solicitor fills an
especially important position. He is responsible for the enforce-
ment of payments duo to the treasury. The olfice of queen's proctor
is now combined with that of treasury solicitor. Under his powers
as queen's proctor the treasury solicitor acts as administrator of
the personal estate of an intestate which has lapsed to the crown,
and intervenes in cases of divorce where collusion is alleged (see
Divorce). Since the Prosecution of Offences Act, 1884, he has[also
acted as director of public prosecutions. In the United States the
ofEce of sftlicitor to the treasury was created by Act of Congress in
1830. His principal duties are to take measures for protecting the
revenue and to deal with lauds acquired by the United States by
judicial process or vested in them by security for payment of debts.
SOLICITOR-GENERAL. See Attoknfy-General.
The position of the solicitor-general for Scotland in the
main corresponds with that of the English solicitor-
general. He is next in rank to the lord-advocate. In the
United States the office of solicitor-general of the United
States was created by Act of Congress in 1870.
SOLIMAN, or Suleiman, sultan of the Ottomans,
surnamed The Magnificent, born about 1490, was the only
son of Selim I., whom he succeeded in 1520. He died
while he was besiegin'^ Szigct in Hungary, on September 5,
1566. See Tokkey.
SOLIMAN, or Sut.kiman, shah of Persia. See Pjjrsia,
vol. xviii. p. 639.
SOLINGEN, a Prussian town, in the province of the
Rhino, stands on a height near the Wupper, 13 miles east-
by-south of Diisseldorf. It is ono of the chief seats of the
German iron and steel industry, its specialty consisting in
all kinds of cutting implements of steel. Solingen sword-
blades have been celebrated for centuries, and probably
form part of the equipment of every modern army, while
bayonets, knives, scissors, surgical instruments, files, steel
frames, and the like are also produced in enormous quan-
tities. These articles are largely made by the workmen
it their own homes and supybed to the depOtf of the largo
O L
251
dealers ; there are about 30,000 workers in steel in Solin-
gen and its vicinity. The population of the town in 1885
was 18,643, of whom three-fourths were Protestants.
Solingen is an ancient place, and received its town charter in
1374. Sword-'blades have been made here since the early part of
the Jliddlo Ages, and tradition afHrms that the art was intro
duced during iTie crusades by smiths from Damascus.
SOLIS, Antonio de (1610-1686), Spanish dramatist
and historian, was born in 1610 at Alcalii de Hen&res,
and studied law at Salamanca, where he is said to have
produced a comedy which was acted in 1627. About
1*40 he became secretary to the duke of Oropesa, whom
he accompanied in various official missions; in 165-i ha
became one of the secretaries of Philip IV., and afterwards
he was appointed chronicler. In his later years he joineij
one of the religious orders. He died at Madrid in 1686.
Of the nine extant plays of Soils two at least have some place in
the history of the drama, — EL Amoral Uso ("Love b. la Mode")
having afterwords been adapted by T. Corneiilo, -while La Gila7nUa
dc Madrid (" The Gipsy of Madrid ), itself founded on the " novela "
of Cervantes, has been made use of by Rowley and Middleton,
P. A. Wolff, and, directly or indirectly, by other more recent
authors. The titles of the remaining seven are Triuufos de Amor
y Fortuna, Erudice y Or/co, El Alcazar del Sccrdo, Lus Amasonas,
El Doctor Carlino, Un Bobo June cicnto, and Amparar al Enemigo.
The msloria de la Cmiquisla de Mexico, covering the three years
between the appointment of Cortes to command the invading force
and the fall of the city, deservedly ranks as a Spanish prose
classic. . It first appeared in 1684 ; there have been numerous
reprints, the most recent being that published with notes by
Revilla (Paris, 1858) ; an English translation by Townshend
appeared in 1724. A volume of Poesias sagradas y kumanas by
Soils was published in 1C92, and several unimportant letters of hir
may be read in the Epistolario Espanol of Kivadeneyra.
SOLOMON (Hebrew ^^hf, Shilomo for Shelomon, "man
of peace " ; the English form follows the 2oXo/x<i»' of N.T.
and Josephusj the Latin. SaZotno agrees with 2aX<o/*ci)v,
one of several variant forms shown in MSS. of the.LXX.),
son of David by Bathsheba, and his successor in the
kingdom of Israel. The reign of Solomon has been
sketched in Israel (vol. xiii. p. 405), and his relation to
the philosophical andproverbial literature of the Hebrews,
the so-called cJtokma,.oi "wisdom," has been critically
considered in the article Proverbs. The political system
of Solomon fell to pieces at his death, but the fame of his
wisdom and splendour in succeeding generations was all
the greater that none of his successors at Jerusalem was
in a position to rival him. The many floating and frag-
mentary notes of various dates that have found a place in
the account of his reign in the book of Kings (q-v.) show
how much Hebrew tradition was occupied with the monarch
under whom the throne of Israel reached its highest glo^r;
and that time only magnified in popular imagination the
proportions of so striking a figure appears alike in the
unfriendly picture of Solomon in the Song of Solomon
(originally, it would seem, sketched in the Northern
kingdom, however much it may have been retouched and
overlaid by additions of later date — see Canticles) and
in the monologue of -Ecclesiastes (q.v.) placed in the
mouth of the wise king who had tasted all that life can
offer by one of the latest writers of the Old Testament.
In the apocryphal book of Wisdom, again, the composi.
tion of an Egyptian Hellenist, who from internal evidence
is judged to have lived somewhat earlier than Philo,
Solomon is introduced uttering words of admonition,
imbued with the spirit of Greek philosophers, to heathen
sovereigns. The so-called Psalter of Solomon, on the other
hand, a collection of Pharisee psalms written in Hebrew
soon after the taking of Jerusalem by Pompey,^and pre-
served to us only in a Greek v£rsion, has nothing to do
with Solomon or the traditional conception of his person,
and seema to owe its name to a transcriber who tbua
distioguished these newer pieces from the older "'Psaltnc
252
S 0 L — S O L
of Davii"^ In New Testament times Solomon was the
current type alike of magnificence and of wisdom (Matt. vi.
29 ; Luke xi. 31). But Jewish legend was not content with
this, and, starting from a false interpretation of Eccles.
iL 8, gave him sovereignty over demons, to which were
added (by a perversion of 1 Kings iv. 33) lordship over all
beasts and birds, and the power of understanding their
speech. These fables passed to the Arabs before the time
of Mohammed (Ndbigha, i. 22), found a place in the Koran,
and gave Solomon (Suleimin) a lasting fame throughout
the Moslem East. The story of Solomon, the hoopoe, ^nd
the queen of Sheba in sur. xxvii. of the Koran closely
follows the second Targum to Esther i. 2, where the Jewish
fables about him may be read at large. Solomon was
supposed to owe his sovereignty over demons to the
possession of a seal on which the "most great name of
God " was engraved. See Lane, Arabian Nights, introd.,
note 21, and chap. i. note 15.
SOLOMON, Song of. See Canticles.
SOLOMON, Wisdom of. See Apocrypha.
SOLOMON ISLANDS, an extensive group of islands,
the largest and as yet least known of any in the Pacific
Ocean, though among the very first that were discovered.
They form a double chain of seven large and many small
islands, extending for over 600 miles in a north-west and
south-oast direction between 5° S. lat., 154° 40' E. long.,
and 10° 54' S. lat., 162° 30' E. long. The northern
extremity stretches to within 120 miles of New Ireland,
the south-eastern point to 200 miles west of Santa Cruz, and
the nearest portion of New Guinea lies ■ about 400 miles
to the south-west of the group.^ See vol. xix. Plate III.
The Solomon Islands vary considerably both in size
and character. It is as yet doubtful which of them is the
largest, but seven are from 50 to over 100 miles in length
and from 15 to 30 miles in breadth; several must there-
fore equal the county of Cornwall in area. They are
well watered, though the streams seem to be small ; their
coasts afford some good harbours.^ All the large and some
of the smaller islands appear to be composed of ancient
volcanic rock, with an incrustation of coral limestone
showing here and there along the coast. Their interior is
mountainous, and Guadalcanal, where there is an active
volcano, reaches an altitude of 8000 feet. Malanta and
Christoval are over 4000, Ysabel and Choiseul 2000
feet high. The mountains of the latter fall steep to the
sea, and the whole of its north-east portion forms an
elevated wooded plain. There is some level land in
Bougainville, which is also said to possess an active volcano.
Every traveller has extolled the beauty and fertility of
the islands. In San Christoval deep valleys separate the
gently-rounded ridges of its forest-clad mountains, lofty
spurs descend from the interior, and, runninfdown to the
sea, terminate, on the north, in bold rocky headlands 800
to 1000 feet in height, while, on the south, they form and
shelter bays of deep water. On the small high island of
Florida there is much undulating grass land, interspersed
1 The most ancient traJition, that of the LXX., gives Solomon no
pari in the authorship of the canonical psalter ; see vol. xx. p. 29.
2 Islands of the Archipelago. — The larger are — in the eastern chain,
Bougainville, Choiseul, Ysabel, Malanta; and in the western chain, New
Georgia, Guadalcanal (often misspelt Guadalcanar), San Christoval.
The smaller are— Buka (the most northern), Shortland, Treasury,
b'aro, Simba (Eddystone), Rubiana, Hammond, Marsh, Savo, Buena
Vista, Anuda, Ngela (Florida), Ulawa (Contrarii-te), Ugi, Three Sistc s,
Sta Anna, Sta Catalina, Bellona, Eennel (the most southern).
Mendana mentions seeing near Buena Vista a small island in a state
of violent eruption ; he named it Sesarga. Ongtong Java is a group
of coral islands in the north-east, but it does not, geographically, form
part of the group.
' Blanche Bay, Bougainville ; Port Praslin, Ysabel ; Maruvo, New
Georgia ; Port Wiseman, Florida ; Curajoa Harbour in Marau Sound,
Guadalcanal ; fiecherche Bay, Maklra Bay, and Vanga Harbour, San
Christoval.
with fine cmmps of trees ; but patches of cultivated land
surround its numerous villages, and plantations on the
hill-sides testify to the richness of its soil. To the south
of Choiseul lies a small cliff-girt islet, Simba (Shortland's
Eddystone), with a peak ending in a crater 1200 feet high,
on the side of which are a solfatara and two boiling springs.
It is inhabited, and has a small safe harbour. Surgeoi.
Guppy, late of H.M.S. "Lark," has recently made valuable
geological observations in the north and south of the
group. ■ The whole chain of islands appear to be rising
steadily, and traces of ancient upheaval are very general, —
for instance, Treasury Island, where a coral-encrusted
volcanic peak has been raised 1200 feet, and the atoll of
Sta Anna, the ring of which now stands hundreds of feet
above the present level of the sea. Some of the smaller
islands are of recent calcareous formation. Barrier and
fringing reefs, as weU as atolls, occur in the group, but
the channels between the islands are dangerous, chiefly
from the strong currents which set through them.
The climate is very damp and debilitating. The rain-
fall is unusually heavy. Fever and ague prevail on the
coast, but it is likely that the highlands will prove much
more healthy. The dry season, with north-west winds,
lasts from December to May.
A comparatively shoal sea — under 1000 fathoms —
surrounds the Archipelago, and, including the New Britain
and Admiralty Islands, stretches to New Guinea and
thence to Australia. This sufficiently, accounts for the
Papuan character of its fauna, of which, however, it is the
eastern limit, in spite of the fact that this shoal water
extends to the extreme, south of the New Hebrides. Here
the strange little marsupial the cuscus (see Phalangee)
is still to be met "With; the hornbill, the cockatoo, the
crimson lory, and birds of a dozen other genera have already
been discovered, "all," as Wallace remarks, "highly
characteristic of the Moluccas and New Guinea, and quite
unknown in any of the more remote Pacific islands."
But, like the New Hebrides, the Solomon Islands
possess a megapode {M. brencMeyi) which is peculiar to
itself. An alligator frequents the coast, and the sea
teems with fish. Insects seem to be fairly well repre-
sented. The flora has been even less studied than the
zoology, but it also shows strong Papuan affinities. Vege-
tation is most luxuriant : unbroken tracts of magnificent
forest clothe th mountains, where sandalwood, ebony, and
lignum vitse have"" already been found. Mangrove swamps
are common on the coasts.
The Solomon Islanders, excepting those of Bellona and ReoneH
in the south, and Ongtong Java in the north— who are pure
Polynesians— are a small sturdy Melanesian race, taller in the
north than in the south, but averaging about 5 feet 4 inches for
men, and 4 feet 9 inches for women. They are well proportioned,
with nicely rounded limbs. Projecting brows, deeply-sunk dark
eyes, short noses, either straight or arched, but always depressed
at the root, and moderately thick lips, with a somewhat receding
chin, are general characteristics. The expression of the face is
not unpleasing. The mesocephalic appears to be the preponderant
form of skull, though this is "unnsual among Melanesian races.
In colour the skin varies from a black-brown to a copperish hue,
but the darker are the most common shades. The hair is dark,
often dyed red or fawn. Crisp, inclining to woolly, it naturally
hangs in a mop of ringlets 3 to 8 inches in length ; but, when
carefully tended, it forms one smooth bush— the usual fashion foi
both sexes. Epilation is practised ; little hair, as a rule, grows
on the face, but hairy men are not rare.* Skin diseases are pre-
valent.
The Solomon Islanders are intelligent, of a quick and nervous
temperament, crafty, thievish, and revengeful, yet, quickly amen-
able to good treatment, they make faithful servants. They are
fond of dancing; their music is a monotonous chant with ai'
< On the islands in Bougainville Strait tribes with lank, almost
straight, black hair and very dark skin are found. The mountains of
the large islands seem to be thinly mh.ibited by a smaller and ruder
race, with whom the coast tribes wage perpetual war and for whom
they express great contempt.
S O L — S O L
253
accompaniment of bamboo drams. They make pan-pipes and
Jew's harps. Of their religion and manners and customs very little
is known. Their language is of pure ile'anesian typo though a
number of dialects are spoken throughout the group, — many even
on the same island. Broken into numerous clans, they are rarely
at peace with each other ; but the attention bestowed on planta-
tions proves them good agriculturists. Yams, arum-roots, bread-
fruit, cocoa-nuts, and fish constitute the chief of their food. Pigs,
dogs, and fowls are also eaten, and, as these are mentioned by Men-
daiia, they must have been known in the islands for over three
hundred years. The islandei^ are great betel-chewcrs, but little
palm arrack or kava seems to be drunk. The respect paid to chiefs
and elders varies in different islands. They are cannibals, though
to what e.\tcnt is unknown. Trophies of human skulls are common,
and preserved heads — the face inlaid with shell — have been procured
in Guadalcanal and Rubiana. They are said to pay honour to
departed spirits. Carvings representing both men and animals
often form the posts of houses and sheds, and adorn the prows of
canoes. Their houses are square or oblong, strongly built, with
high projecting roofs, which sometinies, as in their canoe-sheds,
almost reach to the ground. The floor-mats '.are very rough.
Large halls and spirit-houses exist in some of the villages, and
great care and skill are bestowed on their decoration.' Great
nicety of finish characterizes their weapons. They are mostly light
and graceful, and consist of bows and arrows, spears, and clubs ;
the sling seems unknown. Some of the spears have the barbed
head carved out of a human leg or arm bone ; others, if not cut out
of the solid wood, have bones, thorns, or splinters of wood attached
in a most masterly manne'-. Arrows are similarly fashioned, and
their reed shafts ornamented ivith incised lines. None of them
appear to be poisoned. The bows, often large and powerful, are
made of palm-wood or a strip of bamboo. ClubT vary considerably
in shape ; their butts are sometimes covered with finelj plaHed
coloured grass. Some, which are long and slight, are sickle- or
scythe-like, others lanceolate or spoon-shaped ; and some, smaller,
resemble a very broad dagger. This is, in the Pacific, the eastern
limit of the shield. It is an unkno\vn weapon in the other islands
— Mclanesian ' as well as Polynesian, — but to the west, in the New
Britain group, and in New Guinea, various forms of it occur,
whence, through the Malay islands, it may be traced back to the
Asiatic continent. The shield is also used by the Australians.
That of the Solomon Islanders is made of reeds, and is of an oval
or oblong form. Their canoes are built of planks sewn together
and caulked, and are the most beautiful in the Pacific. They
are very light, slim, and taper, 20 to 60 feet in length, with 1 to 3
feet beam, but they balance so well that an outrigger is dispensed
with. The high carved prow and stern — which are said to act as
a shield from arrows when stem on — give the craft almost a
crescent shape. These and the gunwale are tastefully inlaid
with mother-of-pearl and wreathed with shells and feathers. Sails
are not used, but the narrow pointed paddles propel the canoes
with great speed through the water.- Graceful bowls, with some
bird or animal for model, are also made. They are cut out of the
solid, and sometimes measure over 8 feet in length. Stone adzes
appear to be now used only in the interior and in the north of the
group. They are well ground, flat and pyriform in shape, and
very different from any made in the neighbouring groups of islands.
Clothing is of the scantiest. Both men and women not unfre-
queutly go naked ; but, as a rule, some slight covering is worn,
and neatly-niado fringed girdles are used in somo districts.
Tattooing and scarring of the body is but slightly practised.
Ornaments are used in profusion, and often are very tasteful.
Carved wooden belts, coloured shell-bead bands, and a variety of
armlets, combs, and feather head-dresses are worn, also shell disks
covered with tortoise-shell fretwork. Necklaces of teeth and shell
are common and multiform ; one much prized is made of human
incisors. The ears, and, in men, the septum of the Bose, are
pierced, — frequently, also, the cartilage of one or both nostrils. In
these the strangest ornaments are inserted, such as tortoiso-shcU
rings, bones, teeth, shells, crab-claws, and the like.'
Bistory. — The Spanish navigator Mendafia must be credited with
the discovery of these islands, though it is somewhat doubtful
whether ho was actually the first European who set eyes on
them. Ho sailed from Callao in 1567, by command of tho governor
of Peru, to discover the southern Continent, tho presumed existence
of which in tho then unknown region between America and Asia
had already given rise to much speculation ; but he seems to have
been strangely unfortunate. Sailing west he discovered only a few
coral islets (?Ellico group) until, having crossed more than 7000
miles of ocean, ho fell in with an archipelago of large islands. By
their size and position he considered them to form part of tho land
' See {rOKtbpicce to Brenchley's Curai;oa.
* Rud? outrigger canoes with mat sails are usei' in somo parts of
tho archipelaj;{i.
' Of tiio island manufactures fine specimens may bo scon iu tho
British, Cambridge, and Maidstone rausoums.
he was in search of, and in pleasing anticipation of their natural
riches he named them Islas de Salomon. The expedition surveyed
the southern portion of the group, and named tho taree largo islands
San Christoval, Guadalcanal, and Ysabel. On his return to Peru
Mendaaa endeavoured to organize another expedition to colonize
the islands, but it was not before Juno 1595 that he, with Quiros'
as second in command, was enabled to set sail for this purpose.
The Marquesas and Santa Cruz Islands were now discovered ; but
on these latter islands, after various delays and troubles, Mendaiia
died, and the expedition eventually collapsed.
Even the position of the Solomon Islands was now veiled in
uncertainty, and they were quite lost sight of until, in 1767, two
centuriesafter their first discoverj', Carteret lighted on their eastern
.shores at Gower Island, and passed to the north of the group,
without, however, recognizing that it formed part of the Spanish
discoveries. In 1768 Bougainville found his way thither. He
discovered the three northern islands (Buka, Bougainville, and
Choiseul), and sailed through tho channel which divides the latter
two. In 1769 Surville explored the east coast, and was the first,
in spite of the hostility of the natives, to make any lengthened stay
in the group. He brought home some detailed information con-
cerning the islands, which he called Terres des Arsacides ; but their
identity with Mendana's Islas de Salomon was soon established
by French geographers. In 1788 Shortland discovered New
Georgia, with some of the smaller islands ; and in 1792 Manning
sailed through the strait which separates Ysabel from Choiseul and
now bears his name. In the same year, and in 1 793, D'Entrecasteaux
surveyed portions of the coast-line of the large islands. In 1794
Butler visited the group, and Williamson in the "Indispensable"
explored the channels which divide Guadalcanal from San Christoval
and Ysabel from Malanta. There was a break of nearly half a
century before D'Urville in 1838 took up the survey.
Traders now endeavoured to settle iu the islands, and missionarie?
began to think of this fresh field for labour, but neither met with
much success, and little was heard of the islanders save accovints
of mnrder and plunder perpetrated by them. In 1845 the
French Marist fathers went to Ysabel, where Mgr EpauUe, first
vicar-apostolic of Melanesia, was killed by the natives soon after
landing. Three years later this mission had to be abandoned ; but
since 1881 work has again been resumed. In 1856 John Coleridge
Patteson, afterwards bishop of Melanesia, paid Ms first visit to
the islands, and native teachers trained at the Melanesian mission
college have since established themselves there, as well as a few
traders. About this date tho yacht "Wanderer" cruised in
these seas, but her owner was kidnapped by "the natives and
never afterwards heard of. In 1873 the foreign-labour" traflBc in
plantation hands for Queensland and Fiji extended its baneful
influence from the New Hebrides to these islands. Noteworthy
recent visits are those of H.M.S. "Curajoa" in 1865, H.M.S.
"Blanche" and Mr C. F. Wood's yacht in 1872, the German
war-ship "Gazelle" in 1876, and H.M.S. "Lark" in 1881-84.
See Dalrymple, Voyages and Discoveries in the South Paeijic Ocean (Spanish
voyages), 1770, i. ; nawkeswortli, Collection of Voyages (Carteret, Ac), 1792.
i. ; Fleurien, Decouvertes des Francois en 1768 et J760 (Spanish voyapca ard
Surville); Labiilardiere (D'Kntrecasteaux), Jiecherche de La Perouse^ 179X-9U,
i. ; Dumont d'Urrille, Voyage au Pole Sud, rf-c, 1837-40, v., and Voyage autotir
du Ji/o7tJe, li. ; Meade, Jiide through the Disturbed Districts of Aao Zealand,
<tc. ; Brcnchlcy. Cruise of If.Af.S, " Curajoa," 1865 ; Wood, yachting Cruise
in the South Seas; Romilly, The Western Pacific, ic; Schlclnltz, " Geogr,
u. EthnORT. Beobachtungen auf Neu Guinea, Ac." (S.M.S. Gazelle, 1874-7t;),
Zeils, Ges. Erdkunde, xii., 1877* Guppy, "Recent Calcareous Fonnationa of tho
Solomon Group," Trans. Roy. Soc. Kdin., xxxii., and "Physical Charocters of
the Solomon Islanders." Jou'rn. Anth. Inst., xv. ; Flower, Cat. Slus, Royal Coll.
of Surgeons, pt. 1, Man: Codrin^rron, The Melanesian Language; ^Icintckc,
Die Inseln des Stillen Oceans; W^Wi^ca, Australasia; Yonpc, Life of Bishop
Patteson ; Redlick, " A Cruise among Cannibals," Ocogr. Rcvieic, i. (A. v. H.)
SOLON. The legislation of the Athenian Bolon, whicli
to a large extent moulded the subsequent political life of
Athens, belongs to the early part of the 6th century B.C.''
It followed almost immediately on an unsuccessful attempt
to overthrow the government of the aristocratic families
of Attica, one of which, however, that of tho Alcm.ieonids,
was driven into exile ; and it prfeceded by a short interval
the famous usurpation of Pisistratus. Solon had won the
confidence of his fellow-citizens by having recovered for
them the island of Salamis, close to tho shores of Attica,
an old and valued possession, which their neighbours of
Megara had taken from them. Solon, himself a native ol
Salamis, encouraged them to fight once again for the
"lovely island," as he called it, in a short poem which he
publicly recited, feigning, it is said, tho excitement of a
madman. Through Spartan intervention in tho war
between Athens and Megara Salamis was restored to tho
Athenians, and Solon had the credit of the result. In
* Tho dates of his birth and death ore opprcxim' ' ' ■ ■ - .
254
SOLON
594 B.C. he was summoned under the constitutional title
of " archon " to undertake the work of sweeping political
reforms, which, in consequence of bitter party strifes
and the poverty and indebtedness of the small farmers or
proprietors of Attica, were sorely needed. The Athenian
like the Roman debtor had often sunk, under the legalized
oppression of his creditor, into an actual slave, and had
from time to time been sold and exported. Slany poor
creatures had fled away from home, and were supporting
themselves by the labour of their hands in foreign
countries. Many men who still clung to their little pro-
perties could, with all their pinching, barely keep their
heads above water. The governing classes themselves- felt
that' a crisis was at hand, and they appealed to Solon
and made him -practically dictator. Had he chosen to
work on the popular discontent, he might have easily
crushed the aristocracy and become a despot, or, as the
Greeks called it, a tyrant, as many had "done in other
states of Greece by coming forward as champions of the
people against the great ruling families. Solon obeyed a
nobler impulse and aimed at saving his country without
too violent a revolution. His first step was to give
immediate relief to the poor debtor, to the wretchedly
impoverished small farmer or proprietor, and to interpose
between him and his creditor and landlord. On very
many of the little properties of Attica were to be seen
stone pillars with the name of the mortgagee and the
amount of the mortgage inscribed on them. By a relief
law, " a shaking-o£E of burdens " (a-cicraxOeia.), he annulled
all mortgages, justifying no doubt so extreme a measure
by the harshness of the contracts imposed by mortgagees
on . needy tenants and proprietors and by the urgent
necessity of prompt release for the multitude of such
small debtors. Thus the " mortgage piUars " were swept
away and the land was once more free. Such a setting
aside of the rights of property, expedient as it may have
been under circumstances of acute public distress, must
have inflicted a heavy loss on the wealthier class, and
the landlord and the mortgagee would also have a fair
claim for relief. This, it appears, Solon accomplished by
a device which has been variously explained, a deprecia-
tion of the currency which relieved to a considerable
extent^ — 27 per cent., according to Grote's^ calculation —
the wealthier debtors of the landlord and mortgagee class.
Grote here remarks that, had Solon cancelled all debts
and contracts, there would have been no need to interfere
with the currency and lower the standard of money. His
relief law could not have been so sweepi..^ and revolu-
tionary 88 it has sometimes been represented. Thfere was
no redistribution or confiscation of the land, no universal
remission of debts. For the great majority of the people
indeed there was substantial relief. The land was free
from incumbrance, and the small cultivator had a fresh
start in' life ; there was no imprisonment or slavery for
the debtor; and it would seem that debtors who had
sought refuge abroad were purchased back and restored to
their homes. Such on the whole appears to have been
the character of Solon's first great reform, though some of
the details remain obscure. The reconstruction of the
political system on the principle that every citizen was to
have a share in the government was Solon's next work.
A few noble families, Eupatrids, as they were called, had
hitherto had all the power in their own hands. Solon
made property the measure of political power, and con-
fined the higher offices of state to the wealthiest citizens ;
but election to these offices was to be made by the whole
body of the people, the tenure of office was limited as to
time, and an account had to be rendered publicly as to its
exercise. The citizens were distributed into four classes
' History of Orwce^ "i. la.
according to a graduated scale of property, the fir^t class-
being alone eligible to the archonship or highest office and
to military and naval commands. , The actual administra-
tion of public affairs was thus restricted to the wealthy
few. The second class were the knights or horsemen — the
men who could keep a war-horse for the service of the
state ; these were assessed at three-fifths of the amount
of the first class. The third class answered to our yeomen,
and had to serve as heavy-armed infantry. These three
classes were subject to direct taxation in the form of a
graduated income tax, which was, however, simply au
extraordinary tax, levied only in special emergencies at'
varying amounts per cent, on a citizen's rateable property,
as set down in a public schedule. The fouith and lowest
and most numerous class, which supplied light troops and
sailors for the fleet, was exempt from all direct taxation,
but paid indirect taxes; it would be made up of small
farmers, tradesmen, and artisans, and consist in fact oi
quite the poorest and humblest class of citizens. Its
members could not hold any office ; but they had a large
amount of political power through their votes in the
popular assembly which elected the magistrates and called
them to account, and through the very great judicial
powers with which they were intrusted, and in virtue of
which the Athenian juror practically decided questions
both of fact and of law. Solon's constitution thus gave
the people ample means of protecting themselves from mis-
government and oppression, every magistrate being directly
responsible to them. Not that Solon himself contemplated
anything like pure democracy; there is every reason to
believe he shrank from it ; but pure democracy was pretty
sure to follow as soon as the people distinctly realized
their power. Solon's council of 400, taken exclusively
from the first three classes, must have 'been meant to
furnish the popular assembly with political guidance, and
this it did by preparing and introducing measures for
discussion and superintending its meetings and exercising
some direction over its proceedings. It is impossible for
us to define its peculiar functions precisely. It was, how-
ever, ultimately under the control of the popular assemblj',
by which probably it was annually elected, and to which
it had annually to render an account. We are not to
suppose that either the councU or the popular assembly
originated with Solon. \Miat he really did was to put
them on a new footing, and to the latter, which previously
in all probability had hardly any weight or influence,
he gave greatly enlarged powers. The archons and
magistrates and the council itself were elected by the
popular assembly, and were responsible to it for good
behaviour during their term of office. In this assembly
met the citizens of all four classes, and consequently the
great majority of its members would be poor men and
almost peasants. The voting was by show of hands;
every veter was allowed to speak ; and in the voting there
was no distinction of classes, all being on a perfectly equal
footing. Although theoretically they could got originate
any measure, but had to accept for discussion what had
been prepared for them by the council, they had an
absolute power of veto; and, as the election of the council
was in their hands, it must have been easy for them to get
that body to bring forward any proposal which they might
wish to discuss. Thus it may be truly said that Solon
laid the foundation of the future democracy. And through
the Heliaea, as it was called, — a body of 6000 citizens
annually elected by lot to act as jurors for the trial
specially of political offences, — the people acquired a
complete control over pubUc affairs. There was but one
proviso : the Athenian juror must be upwards of thirty
years of age. In the Athenian courts v/hich were formed
, out of ihese QOOO sitizeiis ^e functions of judge and jury
S O L — S O M
255
were united in one and the same person, and political
questions were continually decided when, as often
happened, a citizen was put on his trial for some alleged
illegal or unconstitutional proposal. By such moans
popular rights and privileges were efifectually protected,
and the democratic character of the constitution enlarged
and confirmed, as we see in the subsequent history of
Athens. Solon, indeed, retained (he did not create) the
famous senate of the Areopagus, and aimed at making it
respected and capable of exercising a general superintend-
ence over the morals and social life of the citizens. It
was to be an aristocratic body, consisting only of archons
who had acquitted themselves well and honourably during
their year of office. It seems that he did not attempt to
prescribe to it any special or particular duties, but that
he rather trusted to its making its influence felt from the
fact that it was, as every one knew, composed of men of
acknowledged merit and ability. Consequently, as Thirl-
wall observes {Hist, of Gr., ch. si.), " it could only exercise
its powers with advantage as long as it retained the
confidence of its fellow^;itizens ; when that was lost it
became time that its legal authority should cease." Solon
evidently felt that, for a time at least, there must be
checks on popular government. Had it been hinted to
him that under his constitution power must finally drift
down to the lowest social stratum, he would perhaps have
replied that he had endeavoured to supply the entire
people with. a political training which should by degrees
qualify them for absolute self-government.
Solon encouraged commerce and manufacturing indus-
try, and drew a number of settlers from foreign parts to
Athens, on condition of their paying an annual tax and
putting themselves under the protection of a citizen who
was to be their legal representative — their "patronus,"
according to Roman phrase. These settlers (jutToiVot,
"metics") had none of the political privileges of the
A.thenian citizen, and they could not acquire landed
property. Many of them, however, flourished and grew
rich, and had every reason to be satisfied with their
position, which, in a kindly and tolerant community like
that of Athens,, was continually improving. Solon, too,
like all the legislators of antiquity, endeavoured to
regulate every department of life, compelling the attend"
ance of the youths from sixteen to eighteen at the public
gymnastic schools, and requiring them to serve the next
two years on garrison duty. Restraints were put upon
women as to their appearance in public, and even as to
their mourning at funerals. Solon's punishments were for
the most part rather lenient, and indicated a humane and
generous temper. It is of course not to be supposed that
all the details of his legislation were maintained, but they
undoubtedly left their mark on the Athenian character.
Having done his work, Solon left Athens and travelled
for ten years in Egypt, Cyprus, and Asia, gathering fresh
stores of knowledge for himself and giving counsel to
others. One would like to believe the beautiful story
Herodotus tells of his interview with Croesus, king of
Lydia, whom he warned with the memorable saying that
" we must not pronounce any man happy till we have seen
his end." Dnfortunatcly, Croesus did not begin to reign
till several years after Solon's travels, and with Groto we
must bo content to take the story as merely an "illustra-
tive fiction." On his return to Athens in his old ago he
found the old feuds once more raging, and Pisistratus, his
kinsman, and his friend in past days, intriguing for power.
The two men had, it seems, a sincere respect for one
another, but Solon protested against the complete surrender
vf the government to Pisistratus, the danger of which he
})ublicly pointed out, though without effect. The crisis
ended in the rule, in many respcct.a nr e"li:'?htonp'i and
beneficent rule, of Pisistratus and his sons, of which Solon
lived only to see the first beginning. He died, soon after
having made his honourable protest, at the age of eighty,
leaving behind him the good efi'ects of a work which only
a man of rare intelligence and wide sympathies could
have accomplished. He was something of a poet, and
several fragments of his poems, written generally with a
practical purpose, have come down to us, and throw light
on his political aims and sentiments.
Groto and Thirlwall in their histories of Greece give a full ac-
eonnt of Solon's legisktion. Plutarc]rs life of Solon, not a very
critical performance, is our chief original authority. (W. J. B.)
SOLOTHURN. See Soleuee.
SOMALI, SoMAL, a Hamitic people of east Central
Africa, mainly confined to the eastern "horn" of the
continent, which from them takes the name of Somali
Land, probably the Punt of the Egyptian records. Here
they are conterminous towards the north-west with the
kindred Afars (Dankali), and elsewhere with the more
closely related Gtallas, from whom they are separated en
the south-west by the river Juba. Tajurra Bay, with the
lower course of the Hawash, is usually given as the north-
west frontier ; but, according to the recent explorations of
Abargues de Sost^u in eastern Abyssinia, there appears to
be here an overlapping of the three peoples, the Isa
Som&li encroaching on the Afar domain north of Tajuixa
Bay nearly to the parallel of Asab Bay (13° N.), while the
Dawari Gallas penetrate between this Somali tribe and the
low^ Hawash eastwards to the coast at Obok (12° N.).
A linfe drawn from the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb through
the Harrar district and the headwaters of the Haines river
(Webbe-Shebeyli or " Leopard river ") southwards to the
equator at the mouth of the Juba will roughly define the
landward frontier of the Som&li territory, which is else-
where sea-girt, — by the Gulf of Aden on the north, by the
Indian Ocean from Cape Guardafui to the equator.
Our first contact with the Somali people may be said to
date from the English occupation of Aden in 1839. But,
notwithstanding the early visits of Cruttenden, Ch: H.
Johnston, Captain Burton, ahd one or two others, very
little was known about them before the seizure of Berberah
by the Egyptians in 1874. This event led to the estab-
lishment of permanent relations with the coast tribes, and
was followed by several excursions into the interior, of
which the most fruitful in results have been those of
Sacconi, Revoil, F. L. James, Paulitschke, Von Hardegger,
and Josef Menge, the last three bringing our information
down to the year 1885. From the reports of these ob-
servers the true relations of the Somali have been gradually
determined, and we now know that they form a distinct
branch of the eastern (" Ethiopic") Hamitic stock, of which
the other chief members are the neighbouring Gallas and
Afars, the Abyssinian Agau, and the Bejas (Bishari) of the
steppe lands between the Nubian Nile and the Red Sea.
Their close affinities both in physical type and in speech
with the surrounding Gallas are obvious, and like them
they ai-R described as a fine race,' tall, active, and robust,
with fairly regular features, but not free from an infusion
of Negro blood, as shown both in their dark, often almost
black complexion, and still more in their kinky and even
woolly hair, sometimes .short, sometimes long enough to bo
plaited in tresses hanging down to the shoulders.- T.:I:'^
' Captain Wharton, who has been recently surveying tlio .'- i i
seaboard, describes the const tribes near the equator as " tlio !■
somest race of men and women he had over seen," black iu ci
but with mngnifieent physique {Proc. Jiny. Geog. Sic., Oct., 1
Captain F. M. Hunter also describes tliem as a tall, finol-
people, with oval face, high rounded forehead, full lips, stroiiK i'
teeth, bright restless eye, but lower limbs seldom wcU developc
Orammar pf (lie Simial Lnnguaijr, Bombay, ISSO).
' The occasional presence of " steatopyga " (Topinard) shows
.ill these features are undoubtedly due to Negro intcrmlitttr&
Imir,
that
256
S 0 M — S O M
the Gallas also they are still in the tribal state, broken up
into an endless number of clans and septs, variously grouped
by different writers. According to Captaip Guillain^ there
are three main divisions — the Aji on the nc;th and north-
east coast, the Hawiya on the south-east coast, and the
Rahhanvrin in the interior. But these are reduced by James
to two, Isak and Darode (apparently the Edur and Darrud
of older observers), with several main branches as under . —
'Habr Gerliaji, south from Berberah, beyond the coast
range.
Isak ■ Habr Tjaleh, east from Berberah, north of the coast
range.
.H.ibr Awal, Berberah district.
iMejertain, east coast from Guardafui to 4 north.
Dolbohanti, Nogal River. _ .
Warsangueii, north coast, west from Guardafui.
Marehan, between the Mejertain and Ogadain.
Ogadain, Webbe basin, and widespread in interior.
To these, however, must be added the powerful Gadabirsi
west from Berberah and the Isa (Issa) of the Hawash
basin, besides the three low-caste tribes dispersed amongst
the others, — Tomal (ironworkers), Ebir /dealers in
cliarms), and Midgan (ostrich breeders).
The Somali, who are mainly Mohammedans of a somewhat
fanatical type, are a fierce lawless people, impatient of control,
and yielding a reluctant obedience even to their own rulers.
Hence the tribal chiefs enjoy little more than a nominal authority,
although some of the more powerful amongst them affect the title
of sultau. At present the great Habr Gerhaji nation appear? to
be split into two sections, each under a chief claiming this rank.
All go armed with spear, shield, and short sword, the latter
exactly like that of the ancient Egyptians, whom the Somali are
otherwise said to resemble more than any other African people.
The weapons are freely used in their disputes, although the tribal
laws against homicide are severe, heavy fines of camels or other
property being imposed, which must ba paid either by the criminal
or the community. They are great talkers, keenly sensitive to
ridicule, and quick-tempered, although amenable to' reason if they
can be induced to argue the point. According to the character of
the soil and climate they live a settled or nomad life, in some
places breeding numerous herds of cameH, goats, and fat-t.iiled
sheep, in others growing large crops especially of durrah, or collect-
ing the gums— frankincense and myrrh — for which the land has
always been famous. The Marehan (properly Murreyhan) tribe is
said to have given its name to the mjTrh, which is obtained in the
greatest perfection in their district, although the term seems too
old to admit of this derivation, and is more probably connected
with a Semitic root mar, «!?«r= bitter. Through the ports of Ber-
berah and Zeyla, a considerable export trade to Arabia, Egypt, and
India is carried on with these articles and the other natiu'al pro-
ducts of the country, such as hides, horns, ostrich feathers, coffee of
a very fine quality, indigo, salt. But the natives take little part in
this movement, which from remote times has been in the bands of
the Indian banians settled at various points on the coast. In 1879-80
the total value of the exports was estimated at about £140,000.
Like many other Mohammedan peoples, the Somali claim Arab
descent, their progenitor having been a certain Sherif Ishak b.
Ahmad, who crossed over from Hadramaut with forty followers
about five hundred years ago. . Other traditions go farther back,
tracing their origin to the Himyaritic chiefs Sanhaj and Samamah,
said to have been coeval with a King Afrikus, who is supposed
to have conquered Africa about 400 A.D. These legends should
perhaps be interpreted as pointing at a series of Arab immigra-
tions, the last two of which are referred to the 13th and 15th
centuries. But these intruders seem to have been successively
absorbed in the Somal stock ; aud it is remarkable that the Arabs
never succeeded in establishing permanent settled or nomad com-
munities in this region, as thvy have done in so many other parts
of tlie continent. Their influence has been very slight even on
the Somal language, whose structure and vocabulary are essentially
Hamitic, with marked affinities to the Galla on the one hand and to
the Dankali (Afar) on the other. Captain Hunter's Oramniar, with
exercises and vocabularies (Bombay, 1880), utilizing the materials
published by General Rigby in the Proceedings of the Bombay
Geographical Society (1849), is the only comprehensive treatise on
the language, which appears to be spoken with great uniformity
throughout the whole of Somali Land. Hunter mentions an
eastern and a western dialect, differing, however, but little from one
another, which is the more remarkable that there is no written
standard and little oral literature, beyond some proverbial sayings,
short stories inculcating certain moral teachings, and some simple
love-songs. Although the rhythm is defective, these chants are
I Docujnenta sur Vhistoire, otc, de VA/rique Orientate, 1856-59.
not lacking in poetical ideas, and often betray an unexpected
refinement of feeling not inferior to that of similar compositions
amongst more civilized peoples. (A. H. K.)
SOMERS, John (1652-1716), was born on March 4,
1652, at Worcester, — the eldest son of John Somers, an>
attorney in large practice in that town who had formerly-
fought on the side of the Parliament, and of Catherine
Ceaverne of Shropshire. After being at school at Wor-
cester he was entered as a gentleman commoner at Trinity
College, Oxford, and afterwards studied law under Sir
Francis Winnington, who became solicitor-general, and
joined the Middle Temple. He appears, in addition tc.
his legal studies, to have written several poems and-
pamphlets. He soon became intimate with the leaders,', /.
of the country party, especially with Essex, Russell, an(? ^^^'
Algernon Sidney, but never entered into their plans so far
as to commit himself beyond recall. He was the author
of the History of the Succession of the Crown of England^
collected out of Records, tL-c, and was reputed to have
written the Just and Modest Vindication of the Two Lctsf
Parliaments, which was put forward as the answer tc
Charles II. 's famous declaration of his reasons for dis-
solving them. This, however, was by Sidney, thougl
probably Somers was responsible for the final draft
When the grand jury of Middlesex threw out the bHi
against Shaftesbury, and were vehemently attacked for
so doing, Somers wrote in defence of the rights of grand,
juries. In 1683 he was counsel for the sheriffs Pilkingtoa
and Shute before the Court of King's Bench, and secured
a reputation which continually increased until the trial
of the seven bishops, in which he was junior counseL
"Somers rose last. He spoke little more than fivet
minutes, but every word was fuU of weighty mattery
and when he sat down his reputation as an orator and
a constitutional lawyer was established." In the secret,
councils of those who were planning the revolution Somers
took a leading part, and in the Convention Parliament,
was elected a member for his native town. He was
immediately appointed one of the managers for the
Commons in the conferences between the Houses, and ii»
arguing the questions whether James II. had left the
throne vacant by abdication and whether the Acts of the
Convention Parliament were legal — that parliament having
been summoned without the usual writs — he displayed
great learning and legal subtlety. He was further
distinguished by being made chairman of the committee
which drew up the celebrated Declaration of Right. On
May 9, 1689, Somers was made solicitor-general. He now
became William III.'s most confidential adviser. In the
controversy which arose ■ between the Houses on . the
question of the legality of the decision of the Court of
King's Bench regarding Titus Gates, and of the action of
the Lords in sustaining this decision, Somers was again the
leading manager for the Commons, and has left a clear
and interesting account of the debates. He was next
employed in January 1690 as chairman of the select
committee of the House of Commons on the Corporation
Bill, by which those corporations which had surrendered
•their charters to the crown during the last two reigns wore
restored to their rights; but he refused to associate him-
self with the violent measures of retaliation which the
Whigs on that occasion endeavoured to include in the
bill. In April a speech by him carried through the
Lower House, without opposition, the bill which declared
all the laws passed by the Convention Parliament to be
valid. As solicitor-general he had to conduct the prose-
cution of Preston and Ashton in 1691, and did so with a
moderation and humanity which were in marked contrast
to the customs of the former reigns. He was shortly
appointed attorney-general, and in that capacity strongly
VOL.XXli
SOMERSET.
PLATE m
H Irvmr I Ci fimith/r
7 Wufon or Vtlhngt,,
Seal, tf)I.Ut
LJL.
3
S O M — S 0 M
257
opposed the bill for the regulation of trials in cases of high
treason. On March 23, 1693, the great seal having mean-
while been in commission, Somers was appointed lord-
keeper, with a pension of i"2000 a year from the day on
which be should quit his office, and at the same time was
made a privy councillor. He had previoosly been knighted.
Somers now became the most prominent member of the
Junto, the small council which comprised the chief members
of the Whig party. When William left in May 1695 to
take command of the army in the Netherlands, Somers was
made one of the seven lords-justices to whom the adminis-
tration of the kinfifdom during his absence was entrusted ;
and he was instrumental in bringing about a reconciliation
between William and the princess Anne.
The question of improving the currency- now became
pressing, and Somers was the author of the bold sugges-
tion that a proclamation should be issued simultaneously
all over the kingdom, announcing that henceforth all
clipped and hammered coins were to be reckoned only
by weight. But all possessors of such coins might, by
delivering them up on a certain day, receive a note
rntitling them to draw from the treasury at a future time
the difference between the actual and nominal values.
The difficulties of toe plan, however, rendered its adop-
tion impossible. In April 1697 Somers was made lord
chancellor, and was created a peer by the title of Baron
Somers of Evesham. When the discussion arose on the
questior. of disbanding the army, he summed up the case
against disbanding, in answer to Trenchard, in a remark-
able pamphlet called " The Balancing Letter." In August
1698 he went to Tunbridge Wells for his health. While
tnere he receiyed the king's letter announcing the first
Partition Treaty, and at once replied with a memorandum
representing the necessity in the state of feeling in
England of avoiding further war. Whea the king, on the
occasioii of the Disbanding Bill, expressed his determination
to leave the country, Somers boldly remonstrated, while
he clearly expressed in a speech in the Lords the danger
of the course that was being taken. Hitherto Somers's
character had kept him free from attack at the hands
of political opponents; but his connexion in 1699 with
the' notorious Kidd, who, being sent out to put down the
pirates in the Indian Ocean, turned pirate himself, and
to the defraying of whose expedition Somers had given
XIOPO, affordecl an opportunity ; the vote of censure,
however, proposed upon him in the House of Commons
for giving Kidd a commission under the great seal was
rejected by 199 to 1.31. The attack was renewed shortly
on the ground of his having accepted grants of crown
property to the amount of £1600 a year, but was again
defeated. On the subject of the Irish forfeitures a third
attack was made in 1700, a motion being brought for-
ward to request the king to remove Somers from his
counsels and presence for ever ; but tlus again was rejected
by a large majority. In consequence, however, of the
incessant agitation, William now requested Somers to
resign ; this he refused to do, but gave up the seals to
William's messenger. In 1701 he was impeached by the
Commons on account of the part he had taken in the
negotiations relating to the Partition Treaty in 1698, and
iletcnded himself most ably before the House, answering
the charges teriatim. The impeachment was voted and
sent up to tho Lords, but was there dismissed. On the
death of the king Somers retired almost entirely into
|)rivato life. He was, however, active in 1702 in oppos-
ing the Occasional Conformity Bill, and in 1706 was one
of the managers of the nnion with Scotland. In the
same year he carried a bill regulating and improving the
proceedings of the law courts. Ho was made president of
the council in 1708 upon the retujn of the Whigs to
power, and retained the office until their downfall in 1710.
From this time his powers of mind rapidly declined,' and
after being almost imbecile for six years he died of
apoplexy on April 26, 1716. Somers was never married,
but left two sisters, of whom the eldest, Mary, married
Charles Cocks, whose grandson. Sir Charles Cocks, Bart.,
became the second Lord Somers in 1784.
For a contemporary ch.aiacter of Somers Addison's paper in the
Freeholder for May 14, 1716, should be referred to ; and there is in
Macaulay's History (vol. iv. p. 53) an eloquent and worthy tribute
to his stainless character and comprehensive learning. A catalogue
of his publications will be found in Walpole's Boyal a-iid Noble
Authors. (0. A.)
SOMERSET, a maritime county in the south-west of
England, bounded E. by Wiltshire, S.E. by Dorset, S.W.
and W. by Devonshire, N.W. by the Bristol Channel, and
N. by Gloucestershire. The total area of land and water
is 1,049,815 acres or 1640 square miles.
The shape of the county is determined by the nearly
rectangular bend taken by the coast not far from Bridg-
water. It falls into three natural divisions, which answer
remarkably to the three waves of West-Saxon conquest
and to the parliamentary divisions as they stood till the
latest changes. The range of Jlcndip, breaking off from
the high ground in the east of the county, completely
shuts off the northern part, between Mendip and Bristol,
itself hilly. Mendip itself, running slightly north-west-
ward towards the Channel, has for its summit a tableland
sloping much more gently to the north than to the south.
Its most striking though not its highest points are
towards the Channel, where it ends in the promontory of
Brean Down, while the Steep Holm stands as an outpost
between the hills of Somerset and those of Glamorgan.
The sides of Mendip are broken by many passes or comhes,
the most marked of which are Ebbor rocks near Wells and
the greater pass of Cheddar cliffs, whose varied outlines,
in the many turns of the pass, are probably tho most
noteworthy of their kind in England. Between Mendip and
the region of loftier hills in the south lies a great alluvial
plain, known generally as Sedgemoor, but with different
names in different parts. This plain, intersected by ditches
known as rhines, and in some parts rich in peat, is broken
by isolated hiUs and lower ridges, of which tho most con-
spicuous are Brent Knoll near Burnham, the Isle of
Avalon, rising with Glastonbury Tor as its highest
point, and the long low ridge of Polden ending to the
west in a steep bluff. In the south is Blackdown on the
border of Devonshire, the higher range of Quantock
(highest point 1262 fpet) stretching to tho sea, and to
the ■ west again tho mountainous region of Brendon and
Exmoor, commonly believed by tourists to bo part of
Devonshire. Here are hills of much greater height and
bolder outline, the highest point being that of Dunkcry
(1709 feet) above Porlock. The two principal rivers are
the Lower Avon and the Parret. Tho Avon, after forming
for a short distance the boundary with Wilts, crosses the
north-eastern corner of the county, encircling Bath, and
forms the boundary with Gloucestershire till it reaches the
sea 6 miles beyond Bristol. It is navigable for barges as
far as Bath. The Parret from South Pcrrott in Dorset,
on the borders of Somerset, crosses tho centre of the
county north-westwards by Bridgwater, receiving the Ivel
or Yeo and Cary on tho right, and the Isle and Tone on
tho left. Among other streams are the Axe, which rises
at Wookcy Holo in tho Jlcndips and Hows north-westward
along their base to the Bristol Channel near Blackrock ;
the Bme, which rises to the east of Bruton, near the
borders of Wiltshire, and enters tho Bristol Channel near
the mouth of tho Parret ; and tho Exc (with its tributary
the Barle), which rises in Exmoor forest and oasscs south-
ward into Devon.
XXIL — 3i
258
SOMERSET
The diversified surface of die county is accounted for
by the variety and complexity of its geological structure.
The Old Red Sandstooe, composed of sandbanks and mud-
banks of a land-locked lake, is met with in the Mendip
Hills and on the banks of the Avon, but presents no
feature of importance. The Devonian rocks, after plunging
beneath the Triassic strata of the low ground between
Williton and Taunton, rise again to the surface in the
well-wooded Quantock Hills. The -Carboniferous strata
occupy a considerable area between Bristol and the Mendip
Hills, forming a portion of the Bristol and Somerset coal-
field. The Carboniferous limestone, built up mainly
of petrified shells and corals, forms a truncated arch in
the Mendip Hills, which owe their steepness and rugged
contours to its compact and jointed structure, and their
ravines and caves to atmospheric influences and to streams
acting on' the formatfon at and below the surface. It
overlaps to the south the plain of Somerset, and plunges
northwards under the coal-measures and Triassic rocks,
reappearing in isolated and picturesque masses. The coal-
measures, which have a thickness of about 7000 feet,
include an upper and a lower series, separated by beds of
grit about 2000 feet in thickness, also containing beds of
coal (see Coax, vol vi. p. 52). It is supposed that similar
beds underlie the marshes to the south at a depth of from
1000 to 1200 feet. A large portion of the Carboniferous
rocks are covered unconformably with the New Ked
Sandstone and Liassic and OolitiCTStrata. ' Triassic rocks
prevail over the whole western area, from the Mendips to
Exmoor, The highly fossiliferous Ehaetic strata rest on
the grey marls of the Trias, and constitute the lower part
of the bold scarp of the Lias limestone and clays of the
ranges from the sea to the Poldens. Plunging beneath
the Oolitic strata, they occupy a large but scattered area
in the east between Yeovil and Bath ; and these in their
turn pass under the Cretaceous strata of the serried Black-
down Hills. A large extent of the county is occupied by
alluvial deposits. Caves are common in the body of the
hills, among which the greatest are the bone cave near
Banwell, the stalactite caves at Cheddar, and Wookcy
Hole, Hard by the last-named is the hyaena cave dis-
covered in 1852, and explored in 1857-63, when, besides
animal remains belonging to a great variety of species,
flint and chert implements were also discovered.
Minerals.— Thongh the exposed area of the coalfield of Somerset
is only about 14 square miles, it is estimated to e.xtend over 238
square miles. The amount of coal raised within the county in
1884 was 843,437 tons, valued at £295,202. Spathoso iron ore
has been long worked in the Brendon Hills, but the industry is
declining,— 26,041 tons, valued at £13,021, having been obtained
in 1858 and only 3582 tons, v.ilued at £2619, in 1884. Lead mining
has been carried on in the Mendips from time immemorial, but the
industry is of much less importance than it was in earlier times,
the efmount of dressed lead ore obtained in 1884 being only 664
tons, of lead obtained in smelting 178 tons,- of silver obtained from
the lead 2760 ounces, and the value of the ore at the mines £1055.
Next to coal the most important mineral production is freestone
from the Oolitic strata, the largest quarries being in the neighbour-
hood of Bath. Copper and manganese are obtained in small quanti-
ties, as well as fuller s. earth, marl, cement from the Lias, and ochre.
Railways. — The county is so completely intersected by branches
of the Great Western Kailway in the north and west, and of thf
South Western in the south and east, that there is perhaps ni
hamlet more than seven miles from a railway station.
Manufactures. — Woollen and worsted goods aie manufactured iu
a large number of towns ; silk at Frome, Taunton, and Shepton
Mallet ; gloves at Yeovil, Taunton, and other placp.s • crapesat
Dulverton and Shepton Mallet. There are large potteries at
Bridgivater and Weston-super-Mare ; at the former town and at
Bath there are extensive carriage- works ; and there are paper-mills
on several of the streams. Most of the commerce of the county
passes through Bristol, which is situated mainly in Gloucestershire.
Agriculture. — In the hilly districts much of the land is unculti-
vated and barren, although affording some pasturage for sheep.
There are large tracts of rich meadow land along the banks o£ the
rivers, and the vale of Taunton is wcU adapted for wheat. On
account of the extensive damage frequently caused iu the lower
grounds by floods, the Somerset Drainage Act was passed by
parliament 11th June 1877, providing for the appointment of
commissioners to take measures for the drainage of lands in the
valleys of the Parret, He, Yeo, Brue, Axe, Gary, and Tone, where
extensive damage is frequently caused by floods. The following
table gives a classification of the holdings in 1875 and 1880: —
50 Acres and
under.
From 50 to 100
Acres.
From 100 to 300
Acres.
From 300 to 500
Acres.
From 500 to 1000
Acres.
Above 1000 Acres.
Tot»l.
No.
Acres.
No.
Acres.
Ko.
Acres.
No.
Acres. ,
No.
Acres.
No.
Acres.
No.
Acres.
1875
1880
ii.g?"
13,300
ISK.OSS 1,812
140,912 1,750
132,687
129,338
2,3M-
2,349
396,215
402,421
341
358
127.111
132,745
62
72
37,966
43,168
4
4
6,3.54
5,786
16,572
17,833
836,401
S54,870
Out of a total area of 1,049,815 acres there were 867,469 acres in
1885 under culture, of which 625,957 acres, or nearly three-fourths,
were iu permanent pasture, 58,863 under clover and rotation
grasses, 115,005 under corn crops, 61,650 green crops, 560 flax,
and 5434 fallow. Of the com crops the largest area — 49,199 acres
— was occupied by wheat, barley occupying 27,934 acres, oats
24,783, beans 11,349, pease 1576, and rye 164. About one half of
tho area under green crops was occupied by turnips, which covered
30,891 acres, mangold coming next with 10,867 acres, while
vetches occupied 8881, potatoes only 7517, and carrots 212.
Horses in 1885 numbered 34,848, of which 23,229 were used solely
for purposes of agriculture. The number of cattle was 236,899, of
whicli 110,068 wore cows and heifers in milk or in calf. Cattle-
feeding and dairy -farming are the principal branches of husbandry.
Large numbers of cattle are brought from Devon to be grazed on
the rich Somersetshire meadows. The district east and west of
Wells, with that of Cheddar, is famed for the cheese of that riame,
and cheese is also extensively naade in other districts. Sheep,
chiefly Leicesters and Southdowns, are grazed, the number in 1885
being 601,020. The number of pigs in 1885 was 111,719, and of
poultry <;14,803. In the extent of its orchards, chiefly apple trees,
Somerset comes next among the counties of England to Hereforcl
and Devon, the area in 1885 being 23,660 acres. The apples are
principally made into cider, which is the common drink of the
peasantry. The area under market . gardens was 759 acres, and
under nursery grounds 170 acres. There were 39,850 acres in 1881
under wood.
According to the Landowners Return Somerset in 1873 was
divided among 32,765 owners, possessing 940,483 acres, at an
annual value of £2,705,393, 18s., or an average value all over of
about £2, 173, 6d. per acre. There were 20,570 proprietors, or
about 62 per cent., who possessed less than one &crA, and 19,246
acres were common land. The following possessed over 9000 acres
each :— Viscount Portinan, 24,171 ; Sir T. D. Acland, 16,320 ; Sir
J. H. G. Smyth, 13,543 ; Earl of Ilchester, 13,169 ; G. F. LuttreU,
12,732 ; Earl of Carnarvon, 12,732; Earl Poulett, 10,118 ; A. G.
Lethbridge, 9103; and Sir A. A. Hood, 9008.
Adrninistraticm and Population. — Somerset comprises forty hun-
dreds, two liberties (Hampton and Claverton, Mells and Leigh),
the cities of Bath (population 51,814 in 1881) and Mells (4634),
part (38,131) of the city of Bristol, and the municipal boroughs of
Bridgwater (12,007), Ch-ard (2411), Glastonbury (3719), Taunton
(16,614), and Yeovil (8479). For parliamentary purposes the
county, which was formerly divided into East, Mid, and West
Somerset, was by the Act of 1885 parted out in seven separate
divisions — North, South, East, West (or Wellington), Bridgwater,
Frome, and Wells. The borough of Frome was in 1885 merged in
its connty district. The city of Bath retuins two members, and
a portion of the East Division of Bristol is within the limits .A
the county. In addition to the boroughs the following urban
sanitary districts are situated within the county: — Burnham (1904),
Clevedon (4869), a rising watering-place, Frome (9377), Midsomcr-
Norton (4422), Eadstock (3074), Shepton Mallet (5322), Street
(2514), Wellington (6360), Weston-super-Mare (12,884), a favourite'
watering-place, and Wiveliscombe (1624). The county has one
court of quarter sessions, and is divided into twenty-two petty and
special sessional divisions. The city of Bath and the borough of
Bridgwater have commissions of the peace and separate courts of
quarter sessions ; and the city of Wells and the borough of Yeovil
have commissions of the peace. The county contains 489 civil
parishes, with parts of three others. Ecclesiastically it corresponds
closely to the diocese of Bath and Wells. From 273,577 in 3801
the population had increased in 1831 to 403,795, in 1851 to 443,916,
in 1871 to 463,483, and in 1881 to 469,109, of whom 220.682 wero
SOMERSET
259
Wialea and 248,52" fonnales. The number of persons to an aero in
isSl was 0'45 and of acres to a person 2'24.
History. — Somerset, the land of the Sumorsieian, is one of the
West-Saxon shires which grew by gradual conquest from the Welsh,
as opposed to the Mercian shires mapped out round a town and
called by its name. The name may well enough be what it seems at
first sight, as it is called in Welsh tl'lad-yr-haf, and in Latin some-
times (estiva regio. Anyhow tlie land bears the name of the folk.
There has never been any central town or acknowledged capital,
though Somerton bears a name cognate with the land. Assizes,
elections, and the like have been held at different places at dilTerent
times. There is no distinct name for the land earlier than the English
conquest ; it does not preserve the name of any British tribe, like the
neignbouring Damnonii and Dmotriges. But there are abundance
of remains both of prehistoric and of Roman times, bej^inning with
the stones which have given their name to Stanton i)rew and the
great giant's chamber at Wellow. Many of the hills are crowned with
camps, as Cadbury, seven acres in extent, the remains on Hampton
Down, near Bath, the fortress of Maesbury Castle, remarkably well
preserved, the camp on Worlebury Hill, containing a number of hut
circles, Dolbury camp on the Jlendips, of great extent and sur-
rounded by a stone ditch and rampart, and Norton Fitzwarren, near
Taunton. At Bath the Romans had an important city, Aqux Sulis,
on the lino of the " fosse " which crossed the centre of Somerset,
skirting the eastern ridges of the Mendips by Shepton Mallet and
llchester (Ichalis) to the ancient Morichmum. From Hchester an-
other Roman road passed to Durnoviiim (Dorchester). From Brean
Down, where there was a Roman port, a road crossed south-east-
wards by the Mendips and Shepton JIallct to Sorbiodunum (Salis-
bury). The completeness of the Roman occupation is evidenced
not only by the variety and importance of the relics which have
been discovered, but by the wide area over which they are spread.
That load was wrought by the Romans in the Mendips is evidenced
by laminm found at various places bearing the imperial stamp ;
Trom the remains of old pottery kilns that have been discovered it
■would appear that this industry then as now was of considerable
importance ; the foundations of Roman villas are very common, and
there are many remarkably fine specimens of Roman pavements.
After the withdrawal of the Roman jiower, the district formed
■part of the British kingdom of Damnonia or West Wales, and it
plays its part in the legends of Arthur, which seem to have grown
out of the history of that kingdom. The religious history gathers
round the Isle of Avalon and its monastery, known in Welsh as
Ynysvitrin and in English as Glastonbury, names of somewhat
mncertaiu origin and use, and which must not bo pressed too
strongly. Wild legends connect the place with Joseph of
Arimatnsea and a crowd of saints from Ireland and elsewhere. It
is enough to say that it undoubtedly was a religious house, though
perhaps of no very great antiquity, before the English conquest
reached so far, and that it was the one great church (as Exeter was
the one great city) which lived on uninterruptedly through the
English conquest. That conquest beran in 577 with the campaign
of Ceawlin, when, after the battle of Deorham,-he took Gloucester,
Cirencester, and Bath and advanced his frontier to the Axe. This
■was the last heathen conquest ; before the second advance under
Cenwealh the West-Saxons nad become Christians. His two victories
in 652 and 658 carried the English frontier to the Parret, and took
in Glastonbury. The later stages are less clear; Centwine in 672
" drove the Bretwealas to the sea," and Ine fought with the Welsh
Icing Gerest in 710 and made Taunton a border fortress at some
time before 722. By this time the conquest was complete. In
the Danish wars ./Elfred in 878 found slieltcr at Athelney and then
• went forth to his victory at Ethandun (Edington in- Wiltshire),
after which peace was made with the Danes' at: Wedmore. We
hear of several later Danish invasions, but the Danes never made
any settlements. Under Edward the Confessor Somerset formed
part of the earldom, first of Swegen and then of Harold. . It prob-
ably submitted to the Norman Conqueror after the taking of
Exeter in 1068, and an English revolt in the next year was put
<lo\vn. In 1088. llchester stood a siege in the cause of William
Rufus, and tlio county plays its part in the wars of Stephen.
During tho .Middle Ages onward to the period of the civil war the
historical events of Somerset— with the exception of tho episode
of Pcrkin Warbeck, who seized and abandoned Taunton in 1497 —
are chiefly associated with Bristol (7. u). ' Tho great mass of the
people, especially those in tho towns, took tho rarliamcnt side in
•.ho great conflict, but from 1C43 to 1645 tho shire was in the
hands of tho Royalists, with tho exception of Taunton, which held
out heroically under Blake till relieved by Fairfax on tho 11th
May of the latter year, which was followed by other successes
until tho whole district was regained by the Cromwcllian party.
The continuance of a strong Puritan feeling in the district was
■evidenced .forty years later by the support given to tho Jlonmouth
rebellion, tlio latest historical event of special importanco con-
nected with tho county.
Tho liistory of the county and its existing remains of antiquity
have been largely alfocted by its occleeiastic-al liistory. Fi'st part
of the single bishopric of Wcs,5ex at Winchester, then of that »f
Slierborne, the land of Suniorsa>tan became a distinct diocese in
909 with its bishopstool at Well.<!. The seat and style of tho bishop
have changed seiveral times, but the boundaries of the diocestf have
changed remarkably little. Nowhere except in Sussex have the shire
and the diocese been so nearly the same thing at all times. The
great possessions of the bishopric and of the abbey of G l.istonbury
led to a remarkable lack of castles in the mid part of the county,
and also tended to overshadow all other ecclesiastical foundations.
Even in the other parts of the county castles are not a prominent
feature, and no monastic church remains perfect except those of
Bath and its eel^Dunster. To Bath the bishopstool was removed
in loss, and after some shiftings, including a transfer to Glaston-
bury, the double style of Bath and Wells was established, the
monks of Bath and the canons of Wells forming two -separate
chapters for the bishop. At the dissolution of monasteries Bath
was suppre.wed. Wells became the sole chapter, but the name of
Bath was still kept in the bishop's style. The monastery of Glaston-
bury was destroyed, as were most of the smaller monasteries also.
Of those which have left any remains, Woodspring, Montacute
(Cluniac), Cleeve (Cistercian), and Michelney are the most remark-
able. Athelney, founded by .Alfred on the spot where he found
shelter, has utterly perished. Montacute and Dunster fill a place
in both ecclesiastical and military history. The castle of Robert
of Mortain, the Conqueror's brother, was built on the peaked hill
[mons acutus) of Leodgaresburh, where the holy cross of Walthera
was found. The priory arose at the foot. Dunster, one of the fe-v
inhabited castles in England, stands on a hill crowned by an English
mound. Besides these there are also remains at Nunney and Castle
Carey ; but castles are not a strong point in Somerset antiquities.
In ecclesiastical architecture the two great churches of Wells and
Glastonbury supply a great study of the development of the
earlier Pointed style out of Romanesque. But the architectural
strength of the county lies in its great parish churches, chiefly in
the Perpendicular style, of which they present a characteristic
variety. In the same style among greater churches are Bath
abbey, Sherborne minster in Dorset, and Saint Mary Redcliff at
Bristol (locally in Somerset and till lately in the diocese), a parish
church on the type of a minster. Of earlier work there is little
Norman, and hardly any Primitive Romanesque, but there is a
characteristic local style in some of the smaller buildings of the
14th century. The earlier churches were often cruciform, and
sometimes with side towers. In domestic remains no district is
richer ; Somerset stands alongside of Northamptonshire owing to
tho abundance of good stone in both. Clevedou Court is a verj-
fine inhabited manor-house of the 14th century, and tho houses,
great and small, of the l'5th, 16th, and 17th centuries are end'es-s.
Indeed, the style has never quite gone out, as the gable and the
muUioned window have lingered on to this day. Barriugton Court
in the 16th century and Montacute House in the 17th are specially
fine examples. There are also some very fine barns, as at Glaston-
bury, Wells, and Piltou.
Among the more illustrious natives of Somersetshire are Dunstan,
Eoger Bacon; John Locke, Admiral Blake, Pym, Bishop Ken,
Fielding, Cudworth, and the poet Daniel.
See Cnllinson, History of Somersetshire, 3 vol3., 1791 ; PheTps, Uodern Somerset-
shire, 1830 ; Proceedinijs of the Somersetsh ire Arthseological and A'atural History
Society ; Eyton, Somerset Survey, 2 vols.. 1880 ; Hunt, Dioresan History of Bath
and Wctis, 1885 ; Freeman, Engtish Towns and Districts, pp. 103 tq.
SOMERSET, Edward Seymouk, Duke of.(c. 1500-
15.52), eldest brother of Jane Seymour, Henry VIII. 's
third wife, was created earl of Hertford in 1537, on the
birth of his nephew, afterwards Edward VI. In 1544
he commanded in the war with Scotland, and sacked
Edinburgh. Nejct year ho again commanded against the
Scots ; and he was employed by Henry in many important
negotiations throughout tho latter part of his reign. On
the accession of Edward VI. ho was made protector by
the council, and was soon afterwards created duke of
Somerset. He at once made use of Lis power to encour-
age the extreme Reformers, and a general destruction of
ecclesiastical works of art was tho result. In September
1547, finding tho Scots unwilling to listen to his pro-
posals for a marriage between Edward and Majy Stunrt,
ho marched- an army into Scotland and won tho battle of
rinkio Cleugh, — a worthless victor}', which only threw
Scotland into tho arms of France. War with that country
followed, and tho result' was tho loss of BouIopnP
Equally disastrous wa.s the protector's domestic polirv
He was animated by a dislike of arbitrar}' government
and by a desire to improve the condition of tho poor, bu-
wnspf tlie same time a slave to his own ambition. Hi
260
S O M — S O M
pushed on the Protestant Reformation \yith inconsiderate
speed, repealed the Treason Acts of Henry VIII.'s reign,
and issued a commission to inquire into agricultural
distress. The agitation into which these measures threw
the country produced insurrections in the west and east,
which were with some difficult}- suppressed. Irritated by
Lis arrogance, rashness, and incapacity, the council, in
October 1549, turned against him, deprived him of the
protectorate, and confined him in the Tower. Eeleased in
1550, he recovered much of his influence^ through the
misgovernment of his successors, and contemplated a
return to power at their expense. , His plans being dis-
covered, he was tried on a charge of felony, and executed
on January 22, 1552. His popularity was immense, and
in some respects deserved; but he aspired to a tyranny,
and had he retained or recovered power he would have
gone far towards ruining the nation.
A7dhorUics.—Ho\uishei's Chronicle; Calendars of State Papers
for the RcUjn of Edward VI.; Stryite's Uaiiorials; Yroaie's History
of England.
SOMERSET, Robert Caer, Eael of (e. 1590-1045),
came of a good Scottish family, the Kers of Ferniehurst.
The date of his birth seems uncertain, but he was a lad
when James I. ascended the English throne. When this
event occurred Carr gave up the position which he had
hitherto occupied as page at the Scottish court, and sought
for a time to make his fortune in France. . Returning to
England he entered the service of Lord Hay, and soon
attracted the attention of the king. Entirely devoid of
all higher qualities, Carr was endowed with good looks,
excellent spirits, and considerable personal accomplish-
ments. These advantages were sufficient for James, who
knighted the young man and at once took him into
favour. In 1607 an opportunity enabled the king to con-
fer upon him a more substantial mark of his affection.
Sir W. Raleigh had through his attainder forfeited his life-
interest in the manor of Sherborne, but he had previously
executed a conveyance by which the property was to pass
on his death to his eldest son. This document was,
unfortunately, rendered worthless by a flaw which gave
the king eventual possession of the property. Acting on
Salisbury's suggestion, James resolved to confer the manor
on Carr. The case was argued at law, and judgment was
in' 1609 given for the crown. Lady, Raleigh received
some compensation, apparently inadequate, and Carr at
once entered on possession. His influence was already
such that in 1610 he persuaded the king to dissolve the
parliament, which had shown signs of attacking the
Scottish favourites. Next year Carr was made an English
peer, and took his seat in the House of Lords as Viscount
Rochester. Shortly afterwards he became a privy coun-
cillor, and in the autumn of 1613 he was created earl of
Somerset. In 1614 he became lord chamberlain.
He was now at the zenith of his power, but the event
had already occurred which was to prove his ruin. Before
1<)09, while still only Sir Robert Carr, he had commenced
an intrigue with Lady Essex. In 1613 that lady set
about procuring a divofce from her husband, with the
object of afterwards marrying Carr. .James favoured the
cause of Lady Essex ; the court pronounced a decree of
divorce; and in December 1613 she married the earl of
Somerset. Ten days before the court gave judgment. Sir
Thomas Overbury, who apparently knew facts concerning
Lady Essex which would have been fatal to her success,
was poisoned in the Tower. No idea seems to have been
entertained at the time that Lady Esses and her future
husband were implicated. For two years rnore Somerset
continued to exercise a paramount influence over James,
and it was not till 1615 that his arrogant behaviour
began to alienate the king. His fall was due, however,
not to the loss of the king's favour nor to the combination
at court against him. but to the discovery of the circum-
stances of Ovcrbury's death.' In July 1615 Somerset
obtained a full pardon from the king for all offences which
he might have committed. Soon afterwards the truth
about the murder came out. Coke and Bacon were set to
unravel the plot. After four of the principal agents had
been convicted and punished, the earl and countess were
brought to trial. The latter confessed, and of her guilt
there can be no doubt. Somerset's share is far more diffi-
cult to discover, and probably will never be fully known.
The evidence against him rested on mere presumption,
and he consistently declared himself innocent. Probabili-
ties are on the whole in favour of the hypothesis that be
was not more than an accessory after the fact. James let
matters take their course, and both earl and countess were
found guilty. The sentence was not carried into effect
against either culprit. The countess was pardoned
immediately. The earl appears to have refused to buy
forgiveness by concessions, and it was not till 1624 that
he obtained his pardon. Thenceforward he disappears
from public view. He died, without heirs, in 1645..
Authorities. — Stale Trials; Carew Letters; Life and Letters of
Bacon, cd. Spedding; Spcdding, Studies in English, History;
Gardiner, History of England.
SOMERAHLLE, previous to its recent incorporation
with Boston a city of the United States, in Middlesex
county, Massachusetts, lying on Mystic river, 2 miles
north-west of the Boston state-house. It was named in
honour of Richard Somers, a naval officer, and was incor-
porated as a city in 1872. The population was 24,933 in
1881. Glass-works, bottle-works, flour-mills, a bleachery,
and , a brass-tubing factory are among the industrial
establishments.
SOMERVILLE, Mary (1780-1872), scientific writer,
was the daughter of Admiral Sir Willi'..m Georga Fairfax,
and was born 26th December 1780 in the manse of Jed-
burgh, the house of her mother's sister, wife of Dr Thomas
Somerville, author of My Own Life and Times, whose son
was her second husband. She received a rather desultory
education, and mastered algebra and Euclid in secret
after she had left school, and without any extraneous help.
In 1804 she married her cousin Captain Samuel Greig, who
died in 1806; and in 1812 she married another cousin,
Dr William Somerville, inspector of the army medical
board, who encouraged and greatly aided her in the study
of the physical sciences. After her marriage she made
the acquaintance on the Continent and in London of the
most eminent scientific men of the time, a'mong whom her
talents had attracted attention before she had acquired
general fame, Laplace paying her the compliment of
stating that she was the only woman who understood his
works. Having been requested by Lord Brougham to
translate for the Society for theDiffusion of Useful Know-
ledge the Mecanique Celeste of Laplace, she greatly
popularized its form, and its publication in 1831 under the
title of The Mechanism of the Heavens at once made her
famous. She was elected an honorary member of the
Royal Astronomical Society, and her bust by Chantrey was
placed in- the hall of the Royal Society of London. Her
other works are the Connection of the' Physical Sciences
(1834), Physical- Geography (1848), and Molecular and
Microscopic Science (1869). Much of the popularity of her
writings is due to their clear and crisp style, and the
underlying enthusiasm for her subject which pervades
them. In 1835 she received a pension of £300 from
Government. She died at Naples 28th November 1872.
In the following year there appeared her Personal
Recollections, consisting of reminiscences -written during
her old age, and of great interest both for what they
S U JM — S O JN
2()1
reveal of her own character and life and the glimpses
tliey afford of the literary and scientific society of bj'gone
times.
SOMME, a department of northern France, formed in
1790 of a large part of the province of Picardy (compris-
ir.g Vcrmandois, Santerre, Amienois, Ponthieu, Vimeu,
and Marquenterre) and a small portion of Artois. It
is bounded on the N. by Pas-de-Calais and Nord, E. by
Aisne, S. by Oise, and S.W. by Seine-Inferieure, and
its sea-coast extends 28 miles along the English Channel.
Two streams flowing into the Channel — the Authie on
the north and the Breslo on the south-west — bound it in
these directions. The surface consists of great rolling
plains, generally well-cultivated and very fertile. The
highest point, hardly 700 feet above the sea, lies in the
south-west, not far from Aumalo. From the mouth of the
Authie to the Bay of the Somn-.e the coast is lined with a
belt of sand-dunes about 2 miles broad, behind which is
the Marquenterre, a tract of 50,000 acres reclaimed from
the sea by means of dj'kes and traversed by drainage
canals. The Bay of the Sonime, obstructed by dangerous
sand-banks, but containing the three ports of Crotoy in
the north, St Valer}' in the south, and Hourdel in the
south-west, has also been considerably encroached upon
by the same methods. Next come the shingle banks,
behind which th6 low fields of Cayeux (25,000 acres)
have been reclaimed ; and then at the hamlet of Ault
commence the chalk cliffs, vifhich continue onwards into
Normandy. The river Somme traverses the department
from south-east to north-west for a distance of 125 miles,
through a marshy valley abounding in peat. Commanded
by Ham, P^ronne, Amiens, and Abbeville, this valley
forms a northern line of defence for Paris. Apart from
the water-power it supplies, the Somme is of ' great com-
mercial value, being accompanied by a canal all the way
from its source wherever it is not itself navigable. From
Abbeville to St Valery its lower course forms a maritime
canal 165 feet wide, 13 feet deep, and 8 to 9 miles long,
capable of bearing at high tide vessels of 300 tons burden.
From St Valery to the open sea the channel is bounded
on the south by a towing-path embankment 2 miles long,
and on the north by a dyke, capable of being laid under
water, 1 mile long, and there the current hollows out a very
variable bed accessible at certain tides for vessels of 500
tons. The most important affluents of the Somme — the
Ancre from the north-east by way of Albert and Corbie, the
Avre from the south-east by Roye, and the Sclle from the
south by Conty — join the main stream at Amiens. The
Authie and the Bresle are respectively 65 and 45 miles
long. The latter ends in a maritime canal about 14 feet
deep between Eu and Treport. The mean temperature is
lower than that of Paris (49° Fahr. at Abbeville). Rain
falls on 175 days per annum (33 inches at Abbeville).
Of tho total area of 1,522,520 acres, 1,178,184 acres are under
tillage, 68,844 arc under meadows and pasture land, 133,837 are
occupied by wood, while 30,514 acres are heaths or uncultivated
tracts. In 1881 tho live .stock included 78,069 horses, 940
mules, 6125 asses, 140,512 cattle, 449,676 .sheep (wool-clip 1117
tons), 82,755 pigs, 21,726 goats; there were also 27,902 hives
(116- tons of honey and 30 of wax). The department, especially
in tho north-cast, is one of the best-cultivated in France. licotroot
for sugar is the staple crop of tho Pcronnoarrondissemont ; cereals,
fodder, oil plants (especially tho poppy), hemp, and potatoes are
grown throughout tho department, tho latter more largely on tho
seaboard. No wine is grown, but tho cider harvest of 1883
amounted to 8,904,100 gnllons, and beer is a common beverage.
In 1884 there were grown 7,072,106 bushels of wheat, 1,810,437 of
meslin, 1,008,932 of rye, 1,789,089 of barley, 4207 of buckwheat,
1 1 , 1 97, 392 of oats, 4,930,067 of potatoes, 1 , 1 61 ,600 tons of beetroot
for sugar, and 208,686 tons of beetroot for fodder, 40 tons of hops,
242ton3ofliempsoed, 651 tonsof hemp fibre, 1123 tons of llax, 5245
tons of colza seed, and 240,311 tons of (odiUr. lVat-cutting(84,335
tons in 1882) gives employment to 2C40 hands, tlio best finalities
luid tho doopost workings being in the valloy of tlio Soiuuio, between
Amiens and Abbeville. The peat of inferior quality is burned on
the spot and the aslies used as manure. Textile industries employ
36,000 hands. The linen and hemp manufacture is carried ou in
dressing establishments and spuming and weaving factories with
50,000 spindles, 2250 power-looms," and 4000 hand-looms, and
the manufactures comprise canvas for packing and sail-making,
and linen (including damask). Cotton is spun by 72,800 spindles
and woven by 745 power-looms and 5000 hand-looms. Moleskins
and velvets for upholstery and other purpo.ses aro among the
articles manufactured. Wool is wrought in 44 establishments
with 121,000 spindles, 120 power-looms, and 400 haud-"ooms, pro-
ducing yarns of all kinds, "Scotcli cashmeres," "China satins,"
serges, merinos, repps, poplins, &c. Tulles, embroidery, laces,
ribbons, plush, carpets, cotton, and woollen hose are also manu-
factured. Tho last industry employs half tho population of
Santerre. About 6400 workmen are engaged in the iron and
copper industries, steam-engine and boiler making, and the pro-
duction of spinning-mill machinery, railway jilaut, and umbrella
frames. The arrondissement of Abbeville is the centre of a great
lock-manufacture, employing from 4000 to 5000 workmen. There
are also chemical factories, bleacheries, tanneries, paper-mills
(470 hands, product 0108 tons in 1881), saw-mills,' and soap and
candle works. Beetroot sugar is manufactured in 60 establish-
ments (5090 horse-power and 6450 workmen). In "1881 53,177
tons of sugar were produced and 2,247,146gallonsof spirit distilled
from the molasses and the beet. Tlio total number of hands
employed in the industries of the department is 64,000, and the
total horse-power 13,181. Thirty-seven decked boats with 400
hands are engaged in the deep-sea fisheries, in the coast fishery 132
small boats with 300 hands. Cereals, horses of tin lionlognp or
Norman breed, cattle, hemp and linen, and the manufactured goods
are the exports of tho department. Vegetables and other food-
stuffs are sent to England, and shingle for tho manufacture of
earthenware. Besides the raw materials for the manufacturing
industries, wines, timber, dye-stuffs, and coal (727,783 tons in
1882) are imported. There are 385 miles of national and 5033
miles of local roads, 119 miles of navigable river or canal, and 379
miles of railway. Administratively tho department comprises 5
arrondissements (Amiens, Abbeville, DouUens, Montdidier, and
Peronne), 41 cantons, and 836 communes. The population in 1881
was 550,837. The department constitutes tho diocese of Amiens,
which city (population in 1881, 67,874) is also tho seat of a court
of appeal and the headquarters of the 2d corps d'armie, in which
the department is included.
SOMMERFELD, an industrial town of Prussia, in the
province of Brandenburg, lies on the Lubis, 40 milea
to the south-east of Frankfort-on-the-Oder. Its manu-
factures of woollen cloth are important, — the annual value
of the goods produced being upwards of half a million
sterling; and it also contains finishing and dye works, an
iron foundry, boiler-works, &c. The population in 1885
was 11,364, almost all Protestants'.
SOMNAMBULISM. See Sleep, svpra, p. 157.
SOMNATH, an ancient but decayed city of peninsular
Guzerat, India, with a pqmlation in 1881 of 6644, mostly
Mohammedan.s, is situated on a bay of the Arabian Sea,
in 20° 53' N. lat. and 70° 24' E. long. The port, which
is called VerAwal, is distinct from the city proper (Deva-
Pattan, SomnAth-Pattan, or Prabhas). The latter occupies
a prominence on the south side of the bay, is surrounded
by massive fortifications, and retains in its ruins and
numerous tombs. many traces of its former greatness as a
commercial port. But the city was most famous for the
temple just outside its walls in which stood the great idol
or rather columnar emblem of Mahadeo called SomnAth
(Moon's lord), which was destroyed by Mahmiid of Ghazni;
sec the details in vol. xv. p. 287. For the so-called
" gates of SomnAth," now at Agra, see Ghazni, vol. x. p.
5(50. The temple .was again plundered by.AlA cl-D(n in
1300, and appears to have been converted into a mosque
See Yule's edition of Marco Polo, vol. ii. p. 389 sq.
SONDERSHAUSEN. See Schwarzburg-Sondees-
HADSEN.
SONNET. (Ital. So7tctlo, dim. of Suono, Ft. Sonnet).
Tho sonnet in tho literature of modern Europe is a brief
poetic form of fourteen rhymed verses, ranged according to
prescription. It docs not, however, belong to what has bsen
collHd, properly perhaps, under Rondeau (a-f.), tho poetry
262
SONNET
of ingenuity. Although in a language like the English it
does no doubt require considerable ingenuity to construct a
satisfactory sonnet of octave and sestet running upon four
rhymes, this ingenuity is only a means to an end, the end
being properly that a single wave of emotion, when
emotion is either too deeply charged with thought, or too
much adulterated with fancy, to pass spontaneously into
the movements of pure lyric, shall be embodied in a single
metrical flow and return. Whether any given sonnet be
comi>osed like that of Pier delle Vigne (of two quatrains
with rhymes running a, b, a, b, a, b a, b, and of two
tercets with rhymes running c, d, e, c, d, e), or whether the
verses be arranged (on the authority of Shakespeare and,
Drayton) in three quatrains of alternate rhymes clinched
by a couplet, or, as in the sonnet of Petrarch, in an octave
of two rhymes and a sestet of either two or three rhymes,
— in each case the peculiar pleasure which the ear derives
from the sonnet as a metrical form lies in the number and
arrangement of the verses being prescribed, and distinctly
• recognizable as being prescribed. That the impulse to
select for the rendering of single phases of feeling or
reflexion a certain recognized form is born of a natural
and universal instinct is perhaps evidenced by the fact
that even when a metrical arrangement discloses no
structural law demanding a prescriptive number and
i-rrangement of verses, the poet will nevertheless, in certain
moods, choose to restrict himself to a prescribed number
and arrangement, as in the cases of the Italian stornello,
the Welsh triban, and the beautiful rhymeless short ode
of Japanese poetry, for the knowledge of which we are
indebted to Mr Chamberlain. And perhaps, if space
permitted us to probe the matter deeply, we should find
that the recognized prescription of form gives a sense of
I oneness that nothing else save the refrain can give to a
poem which, being at once too long for a stanza in a
series and too short to have the self-sustaining power of the
more extended kinds of poetic art, suffers by suggesting to
the ear a sense of the fragmentary and the inchoate. It is
not then merely the number of the verses, it is also their
arrangement as to rhymes, — an arrangement leading the
ear to expect a prescribed sequence and then satisfying
that expectation, — which entitles a form of fourteen verses
to be ealled a sonnet.
Hence the so-called irregular sonnets of S. T. Coleridge,
which lead the ear of the reader to expect the pleasure of
a prescribed arrangement when what they have to offer is
a pleasure of an exactly opposite kind — the pleasure of an
absolute freedom from prescribed arrangement — are un-
eatisfactory, while (as the present writer has often pointed
uut) the same poet's fourteen-line poem, "Work without
Hope," in which the reader expects and gets freedom from
prescription, is entirely satisfactory, "i This same little
poem of Coleridge's also affords an excellent illustration
of another point in connexion with the sonnet. If we
trace the history and the development ol the sonnet ffom
Pier delle Vigne to Eossetti we shall find that the poet's
quest from the very first has been to write a poem in
fourteen verses so arranged that they should, better than
any other number and arrangement of verses, produce a
certain melodic effect upon the ear, and an effect, more-
over, that should bear iteration and reiteration in other
poems similarly constructed. Now if we ask ourselves
whether, beautiful as is this poem, "Work without Hope,",
taken as a single and original metrical arrangement, we
should get out of a series of poems modelled line for line
upon it that pleasure of iteration which we get out of a
series of Petrarchan sonnets, we shall easily see why the
regular sonnet of octave and sestet on the one hand, and
what is called the Shakespearean sonnet on the other, have
.?ti> vived all other competing forms.
In modern Europe the sonnet has always had a peculiar
fascination for poets of the first class — poets, that is, in
whom what we have called poetic energy (see Poetkv) and
plastic power are equally combined. It would seem that
the very .'act that the sonnet is a recognized structure sug-
■gestive of mere art — suggestive in some measure, indeed, of
what Schiller would call " sport " in art — has drawn some
of the most passionate poets in the world to the sonnet as
the medium of their sincerest utterances. Without being
coldly artificial, like the rondeau, the sestina, the ballade,
the villanelle, itc, the sonnet is yet so artistic in structure,
its form is so universally known, recognized, and adopted
as being artistic, that the too fervid spontaneity and
reality of the poet's emotion may be in a certain degret
veiled, and the poet can whisper, as from behind a mask,
those deepest secrets of the heart which could otherwise
only find expression in purely dramatic forms. _
That the sonnet was invented, not in Provence, as French
critics pretend, but in Italy in the 13th century, is pretty
clear, but by whom is still perhaps an open question. Mr
S. Waddington (Sonnets of Living Writers) and several
other contemporary critics attribute to Fra Guittone the
honour of having invented the form. But Mr J. A.
Symonds has reminded us that the sonnet beginning Perd
cli amore, attributed to Pier delle Vigne, secretary of state
in the Sicilian court of Frederick, has claims which no
student of early Italian poetry can ignore.
As regards English sonnets, whether the Petrarchan and
the Shakespearean are really the best of all possible forms
we need not inquire. But, inasmuch as they have become
so vital and so dominant over other sonnet forms that when-
ever we begin to read the fir.st verse of an English sonnet
we expect to find one or other of these recognized rhyme-
arrangements, any departure from these two arrangements,
even though the result be such a magnificent poem as
Shelley's "Ozymandias," disappoints the expectation, baffles
the ear, and brings with it 'that sense of the fragmentary
and the inchoate to which we have before alluded. If,
however, some writer should arise with sufficient originality
of metrical endowment and sufficient poetic power to do
what Keats, in a famous experiment of his tried to do
and failed, — impress the public ear with a new sonnet
structure, impress the public ear so powerfully that a nev
kind of expectance is created the moment the first verse
of a sonnet is recited, — then there will be three kinds
of English sonnets instead of two.
With regard to the Petrarchan sonnet, all critics are
perhaps now agreed that, while the form of the octave is
invariable, the form of the sestet is absolutely free, save
that the emotions should govern the arrangement of the
verses. But as regards the division between octave and
sestet, Mr JIaxk Pattison says, with great boldness, but
perhaps with truth, that by blending octave with sestet
Milton missed the very object and end of the Petrarchan
scheme. Another critic, however, Mr Hall Caine, in his
preface to Sonnets of Three Centuries, contends that by
making "octave flow into sestet without break of music
or thought" Milton consciously or unconsciously invented
a new form of sonnet ; that is to say, Milton, in his use
of the Petrarchan octave and sestet for the embodiment
of intellectual substance incapable of that partial disin-
tegration which Petrarch himself always or mostly sought,,
.invented a species of sonnet which is English in impetus,
but Italian, or partially Italian, in structure. Hence this
critic, like Mr William Sharp (Sonnets of this Century),
divides all English sonnets into foar groups: — (1) sonnets
of Shakespearean structure ; (2) sonnets of octave and
sestet of Sliltonic structure ; (3) sonnets of contemporary
structure, i.e., all sonnets' on the Petrarchan model in
which the metrical and intellectual " wave of flow and
S 0 P — S 0 P
263
etb" (as ori'srinally fonnuia:ed by the present writer in a
sonnet on the sonnet, which has appeared in most of the
recent anthologies) is Strictly observed, 'and in which,
while the rhj me-arrangement of the octave is invariable,
that of the sestet is free; (4) sonnets o£ miscellaneous
structure.
With regard to what is called the contemporary form,
—a Petrarchan arrangement with the sestet divided very
^ siiarply trom the octave. — the crowning difficulty and the
crowning triumph of the sonnet writer has always been to
so handle the rhythm of the prescribed structure as to
make it seem in each individual sonnet the inevitable and
natural rhythm demanded by the emotion which gives the
individual sonnet birth, and this can perhaps only be
achieved when the richness and apparent complexity of
the rhyme-arrangement is balanced by that perfect lucidity
I and simplicity of syntax which is the special quest of the
"sonnet of flow and ebb."
The wave theory has found acceptance with most recent
students of the sonnet, such as Rossetri and the late Mark
Pattison, Mr J. A- Symonds, Mr Hall Caine, and Mr
William Sharp, ' Mr Symonds, indeed, seems to hint that
the very name given by the Italians to the two tercets,
the volta or turn, indicates the metrical meaning of the
form. "The striking metaphorical symbol," says he,
" drawn from the observation of the swelling and declining
wave can even in some examples be applied to sonnets
oa the Shakespearean model ; for, as a wave may fall
gradually or abruptly, so the sonnet may sink with stately
volume or with precipitate subsidence to its close.
Rossetti furnishes incomparable examples of the former
and more desirable conclusion; Sydney Dobell, in Home in
War Time, yields an extreme specimen of the latter."
And now as to the Shakespearean sonnet. Seme very
acute critics have spoken as if this form were merely a
lawless succession of three quatrains clinched by a couplet,
and as if the number of the quatrains might just as well
have been two or four as the present prescribed number
of three. If this were so, it would unqn-»tionably be
a serious impeachment of the Shakespearean sonnet-, for
save xc the poetry of ingenuity no metric arrangement
is otherwise than bad unless it be the result of a deep
metrical necessity.
If the prescriptive arrangument of three quatrains
clinched by a couplet is not a metrical necessity, if it is
not demanded in order to prevent the couplet from losing
its power, such an arrangement is idle and worse than
idle ; just as, in the case uf the Petrarchan sonnet, if it can
be shown that the solid unity of the outflowing wave can
be maintained as completely upon three rhymes as upon
two, then the restriction of the octave to two rhymes is
simple pedantry. But he who would test the metrical
necessity of the arrangement in the Shakespearean sonnet
has only to make the experiment of writing a poem of two
quatrains with a couplet, and then another poem of four
quatrains with a couplet, iu order to see how inevitable is
the metrical necessity of the Shakespearean number and
arrangement for the achievement of the 'metrical effect
which Shakespeare, Drayton, and others sought. While
in the poem of two quatrains the expected couplet has
the sharp epigrammatic effect of the couplet in ordinary
stanzas (such as that of oilava rima, and as that of the
Ventis and Adonis stanza), destroying that pensive sweet-
ness which is the characteristic of the Shakesp'earean
sonnet, the poem of four quatrains is just sufficiently long
for the expected pleasure of the couplet to be dispersed
and wasted.
The quest of the Shakespearean sonnet is not, like that
of the sonnet oiroctave and sestet, sonority, and, so to speak,
metrical counterpoint, but sweetness ; and the sweetest of
all possible arrangements in English versification is a
succession of decasyllabic quatrains in alternate rhymes
knit together and clinched by a couplet — a couplet coming
not so far from the initial verse as to lose its binding
power, and yet not so near the initial verse that the ring
of epigram disturbs the "linked sweetness long drawn
out " of this movement, but sufficiently near to shed its
influence over the poem back to the initial verse. A
chief part of the pleasure of the Shakespearean sonnet
is the expectance of the climacteric rest of the couplet
at the end (just as a chief part o.' the pleasure of the
sonnet of octave and sestet is the expectance of the
answering ebb of the sestet when the close of the octave
has been reached); and this expectance is gratified too
early if it comes after two quatrains, while, if it comes
after a greater number of quatrains than three, it is
dispersed and wasted altogether.
The French sonnet has a. regular Petrarchan octavo
with a sestet of three rhymes beginning with a couplet.
The Spanish sonnet is also based on the pure Italian type,
and is extremely graceful and airy; The same may be
said of the Portuguese sonnet — a form of which the
illustrious Camoens has left neai'ly three hundred
examples. , (t. w.)
SOPHIA DOROTHEA (1666-1726), the daughter and
heiress of Duke George William of Brunswick-Liineburg-
Celle, was born on September 15, 1666. On November
21, 1682, she was married to Prince George Louis of
Hanover, afterwards George I. of England, to whom she
bore in 1683 a son, afterwards King George II,, and in
1 687 a daughter, Sophia Dorothea, afterwards the wife of
Frederick William L of Prussia and the mother of Frede-
rick the Great. For her illicit relations with Count Philip
Christopher von, Kiinigsmark (see vol. x. p. 420) Sophia
Dorothea vras divorced from her husband the elector in
December 1694, and the remainder of her life was spent
in a dignified captivity under a military guard at her
ancestral seat of Ahlden. She died on November 13,
1726. Her correspondence with Konigsmark was dis-
covered at Lund by Prof. Palmblad, and published by
him in 1847 ; 'see also the Count von Schulenborg's £«•-
zoffin von, Ahlden (Leipsic, 1852).
SOPHISTS. Sophist, or " man of wisdom, " waa the name
given by the Greeks about the middle of the 5th century
B.C. to certain teachers of a superior grade who, distinguish-
ing themselves from philosophers on the one hand and from
artists and craftsmen on the other, claimed to prepare
their pupils, not for any particular study or profession, but
for civic life. For nearly a hundred years the sophists
hold almost a monopoly of general or liberal education.
Yet, within the Limits of the profession', there was con-
siderable diversity both of theory and of practice. Four
principal varieties are distinguishable, and may be
described as the sophistries of culture, of rhetoric, of
politics, and of eristic or disputation. Each of these
predominated in its turn, though not to the exclusion of
others, the sophistry of culture beginning about 447, and
leading to the sophistry of eristic, and the sophistry of
rhetoric taking root in central Greece about 427, and
merging in the sophistry of politics. Further, since
Socrates and the Socratics were educators, they too might
bo, and in general were, regarded as sophists ; but, as they
conceived truth — so far as truth was attainable — rather
than iiuccese in life, in tho law court, in the assembly, or
in debate, to be the right end of intellectual effort, they
were at variance with their rivals, and are commonly
ranked by historians, not with tho sophists, who confessedly
despaired of knowledge, but with the philosophers, who,
however unavailingly, continued to seek it. With tho
establishment of the great philosophical schools — first, of
264
SOPHISIS
the Academy, next of the Lyceum — the philosophers took
the place of the sophists as the educators of Greece.
The sophistical movement was then primarily an
attempt to provide a general or liberal education which
should supplement the customary instruction in reading,
writing, gymnastic, and music. But, as the sophists of
the first period chose for their instruments grammar, style,
literature, and oratory, while those of the second and
third developments were professed rhetoricians, sophistry
exercised an important influence upon literature. Then
again, as the movement, taking its rise in the philoso-
phical agnosticism which grew out of the early physical
systems, was itself persistently sceptical, sophistry may
be regarded as an interlude in the history of philo-
sophy. Finally, the practice of rhetoric and eristic, which
presently became prominent in sophistical teaching, had,
or at any rate seemed to have, a mischievous effect upon
conduct ; and the charge of seeking, whether in exposition
or in debate, not truth but victory — which charge was
impressively urr^,d against the sophists by Plato — grew
into an accusation of holding and teaching immoral and
unsocial doctrines, and in our own day has been the
subject of eager controversy. In the present article the
matters above indicated will be dealt with under the
following heads : — (1) the genesis and development of
sophistry ; (2) the relations of sophistry to education,
literature, and philosophy ; (3) the theory of Grote.
(1) Genesis and Development of Sophistry. — Sophistry
arose out of a crisis in philosophy. The earlier Ionian
physicists, — Thales, Anaximander, and Anaximenes, — in
their attempts to trace the multiplicity of things to a
single material element, had been troubled by no misgivings
about the possibility of knowledge. But, when Heraclitus
to the assumption of fire as the single material cause
added the doctrine that all things are in perpetual flux,
ha found himself obliged to admit that things cannot be
know*. Thus, though, in so far as he asserted his funda-
mental doctrine without doubt or qualification, he was a
dogmatist, in all else he was a sceptic. Again, the Eleatic
f armenides, deriving from the theologian Xenophanes the
distinction between iTnan^ft-T] and Soia, conceived that,
whilst the One exists, and is the object of knowledge,
the Multiplicity of things becomes, and is the object of
opinion ; but, when his successor Zeno provided the system
with a logic, the consistent application of that logic
resolved the fundamental doctrine into the single proposi-
tion " One is One," or, more exactly, into the single
identity " One One." Thus Eleaticism, though professedly
dogmatic, was inconsistent in its theory of the One and its
attributes, and openly sceptical in regard to the world of
nature. Lastly, the philosophers of the second physical
succession, — Empedocles and Anaxagoras, — not directly
attacking the great mystery of the One and the ilany,
but i^ virtue of a scientific instinct approaching it through
the investigation of phenomena, were brought by their
study of sensation to perceive and to proclaim the inade-
quacy of the organs of sense. Thus they too, despite
their air of dogmatism, were in effect sceptics. In short,
from different standpoints, the three philosophical succes-
sions had devised systems which were in reality sceptical,
though they had none of them recognized the sceptical
inference.
Towards the middle of the 5th century, however,
Protagoras of Abdera, taking account of the teaching of
the first, and possibly of the second, of the physical
successions, and Gorgias of Leontini, starting from the
teaching of the metaphysical succession of Elea, drew
that sceptical inference from which the philosophers had
shrunk. If, argued Protagoras in a treatise entitled Truth,
all things are in flux, so that sensation is subjective, it
follows that " jMan is the measure of all things, of what is,
that it is, and of what is not, that it is not"; in other
words, there is no such thing as objecti\ e truth. Simi-
larly, Gorgias. in a work On Nature, or on the iVonent,
maintained (a) that nothing is, (/>) that, if anything is, it
cannot be known, (c) that, if anything is and can be
known, it cannot be expressed in speech ; and the sum-
maries which have been preserved by Sextus Empiricus
(aciv. Math., vii. 65-S7) and by the author of the Dc
Melisso, &c. (cc. 5, 6), show that, in defending these pro-
positions, Gorgias availed himself of the arguments which
Zeno had used to discredit the pop.ilar belief in the exist-
ence of the Jlany; iii other words, that Gorgias turned the
destructive logic of Zeno against the constructive ontology
of Parmenides, thereby not only reducing Eleaticism to
nothingness, but also, until such time as a better logic
than that of Zeno should be provided, precluding all
philosophical inquiry whatsoever. Thus, whereas the
representatives of the three successions had contimied to
regard themselves as philosophers or seekers after truth,
Protagoras and Gorgias, plainly acknowledging their
defeat, withdrew from the ungrateful struggle.
Meagre as were the results which the earlier thinkers
had obtained, the extinction of philosophy just at the
time when the liberal arts became more technical, and
consequently less available as employments of leisure,
threatened to leave a blank in Hellenic life. Accordingly
Protagoras, while with the one hand he put away philo-
sophy, with the other offered a substitute. Emphasizing
the function of the teacher, which with the philosophers
had been subordinate, and proclaiming the right end of
intellectual endeavour to be, not " truth " (dAij^tia) or
" wisdom " (a-o<f>ia), which was unattainable, but " virtue "
or " excellence " (dpen;), he sought to communicate, not
a theory of the universe, but an aptitude for civic life.
" The lesson which I have to teach," Plato makes him say
(Prot., 318 E), "is prudence or good counsel, both in
respect of domestic matters, that the man may manage his
household aright, and in respect of public affairs, that he
may be thoroughly qualified to take part, both by deed
and by word, in the business of the state. In other words,
I profess to make men good citizens." As instruments of
education Protagoras used grammar, . style, poetry, and
oratory. Thus, whereas hitherto the young Greek, having
completed his elementary training in the schools of the
■ypajxixaTLcrrfi^, the KidapKnrj';, and the TraiSoTpi'/Jijs, was
left to prepare himself for his life's work as best he
■might, by philosophical speculation, by artistic practice,
or otherwise, one who passed from the elementary schools
to the lecture-room of Protagoras received from him a
"higher education." The programme was exclusively
literary, but for the moment it enabled Protagoras to
satisfy the demand which he had discovered and evoked.
Wherever he went, his lecture-room was crowded with
admiring pupils, whose homage filled his purse and
enhanced his reputation.
After Protagoras the most prominent of the literary
sophists was Prodicus of Ceos. Establishing himself at
Athens, he taught "virtue" or "excellence," in the sense'
attached to the word by Protagoras, partly by means of
literary subjects, partly in discourses upon practical ethics, i
It is plain that Prodicus was an affected pedant. Yet his
simple conventional morality found favour, and Plato
{Rep:, 600 C) couples him with Protagoras in his testi-
mony to the popularity of the sophists and their teaching.
At Athens, the centre of the intellectual life of Greece,
there was soon to be found a host of sophists : some -
of them strangers, others citizens ; some of them bred -
unc^er Protagoras and Prodicus, ethers self-taught. . In
the teaching of the sophists of this younger generatioi'
SOPHISTS
205
two poiuts are observable. First, their independence of
philosophy and the arts being assured, though they
continued to regard " civic excelleneo " as their aim, it was
no Jonger necessary for them to make the assertion of its
claims a principal element in their exposition. Secondly,
for the sake of novelty they extended their range, includ-
ing scientific and technical subjects, but handling them,
and teaching- their pupils to liandle them, in a jjopular
way. In this stage of sophistry then, the sophist, though
not a specialist, trenched upon Uie provinces of specialists ;
and accordingly Plato (Fiot., 318 E) makes Protagoras
pointedly refer to sophists who, " when young men have
mads their escape from the arts, plunge them once more
into technical study, and teach them such subjects as
arithmetic, astronomy, geometry, and music." The sophist
of whoni the Platonic Protagoras is here thinking was
Hippias of Elis, who gave pppular lectures, not onJy upon
the four subjects just mentioned, but also upon grammar,
mythology, family history, archaeology, Homerology, and
the education of youth. In this polymath we see at once
the degradation of the sophistry of culture and the link
which connects Protagoras and Prodicus with tho eristics,
who at a later period taught, not, like Hippias, all branches
of learning, but a universally applicable method of dis-
putation.
Meanwhile, Gorglas of Leontini, who, as has been seen,
lad studied and rejected the philosophy of western Greece,
gave to sophistry a new direction by bringing to the
mother country the technical study of rhetoric, — especially
forensic rhetoric (Plato, Gory., 454 B; cf. Aristotle, E/ict.,
1354 b 26), — which study had begun in Sicily with
Corax and Tisiaa nearly forty years before. Gorgias was
already advanced in years and rich in honours when, in
427, ho visited Athens as the head of an embassy sent to
solicit aid against Syracuse. Received with acclamation,
he spent tho rest of his long life in central Greece, win-
ning applause by the display of his oratorical gifts and
acquiring wealth by the teaching of rhetoric. There is no
evidence to show that at any period of his life ho called
himself a sophist ; and, as Plato {Gorg., 449 A) makes
him describe himself as a prjTwp, it is reasonable to sup-
pose that he preferred that title. That he should do so
was only natural, since his position as a teacher of rhetoric
was already secure when Protagoras made his first a[ipear-
ance in tho character of a sophist ; and, as Protagoras,
Prodicus, and the rest of the sophists of culture offered a
comprehensive education, of which oratory formed only a
part, whilst Gorgias made no pretence of teaching " civic
excellence" (Plato, Mcno, 95 C), and found a substitute
for philosophy, not in literature generally, but in the
professional study of rhetoric alone, it would have been
convenient if tho distinction between sophistry and
rhetoric had been maintained. But, though, as will bo
seen hereafter, these two sorts of education were some-
times distinguished, Gorgias and those who succeeded him
aa teachers of rhetoric, such as Thrasymachus of Chalce-
don and Polus of Agrigentum, were commonly called by
tho title which Protagoras had assumed and brought into
familiar use.
Ehetorical sophistry, as taught by Gorgias with special
reference to the requirements of tho law courts, led by an
.easy transition to political soi)histry. During the century
which had elapsed .since tho cxjiulsion of tho Pisi.stratids
and the establishment of tho democracy, the Athenian
constitution had developed with a rapidity which produced
an oligarchical reaction, and the discussion of constitu-
tional jirinciijlos and precedents, always familiar to the
citizen of Athens, was thus abnormally stiinulated. The
reloponnesian War too not only added a deeper interest
t*> ordinary questions of policy, but also caused tho
relations of dissentient p?.rtie.s, of allied and belligerent
states, of citizens and aliens, of bond and free, of Greeks
and barbarians, to be eagerly debated in tho light of
present expedience. It was only natural then that somo
of those who professed to prepare young Athenians for
public life should give to their teaching a distinctively
political direction ; and accordingly we find Isocrates
recognizing teachers of politics, and discriminQting them
at once from those earlier sophists who gave popular
instruction in tho arts and from the contemporary eristics.
To this class, that of the political sophists, may be assigned
Lycophron, .^Ucidamas, and Isocrates himself. For, though
that celebrated personage would have liked to be called,
not "sophist," but "political philosopher," and tried to
fasten the name of "sophist" upon his opponents the
Socratics, it is clear from his own statement that he was
commonly ranked ^v ith tho sophists, and that he had no
claim, except on the score of superior popularity and
success, to be dissociated from the other teachers of
political rhetoric. It is true that he was not a political
sophist of the vulgar type, that as a theorist he was
honest and patriotic, and that, in addition to his fame as
a teacher, he had a distinct reputation as a man of letters ;
but he was a professor of political rhetoric, and, as such,
in the phraseology of the day, a sophist. . He had already
reached the height of his fame when Plato opened a rival
school at the Academy, and pointedly attacked him in the
Gorgias, the Phxdrns, and the Republic. Thenceforward
there was a perpetual controversy between the rhetorician
and the philosopher, and the struggle of educational
systems continued until, in the next generation, tho
philosophers were left in possession of the fiel^.
While the sophistry of rhetoric led to the sophistry of
politics, the sophistry of culture led to tho sophistry of
disputation. It has been seen that tho range of subjects
recognized by Protagoras and Prodicus gradually extended
itself, until Hipjiias professed himself a' teacher of all
branches of learning, including in his list subjects taught
by artists and professional men, but handling them from
a popular or nonprofessional point of view. The suc-
cessors of the polymath claimed to possess and to com-
municate, not tho knowledge of all branches of learning,
but an aptitude for dealing with all subjects, which
aptitude should make the knowledge of any subject super-
fiuous. In other words, they cultivated skill in disputa-
tion. Now skill in disputation is plainly a valuable
accomplishment ; and, as the .\ristotelian logic grew cut
of tho regulated discussions of tho eristics and their pupils,
the disputant sophistry of tho 4th century deserves more
attention and more respect than it usually receives fronj
historians of Greek thought. But when men set them-
selves to cultivate skill in disputation, irrespective of tho
matter debated, — when men regard tho matter discussed,
not as a serious issue, but as a thesis upon which to
practise their powers of controversy, — they learn to pursue,
not truth, but victory ; and, their criterion of excellence
having been thus perverted, they presently printer in-
genious fallacy to solid reasoning, and tho applause of
bystanders to the consciousness of honest effort. Indeed,
the sophists generally had a predisposition to error of this
sort, not only because sophistry was from the beginning a
substitute for the pursuit of truth, but also because tho
successful professor, travelling from city to city, or settling
abroad, could take no jiart in jjublic affairs, and thus was
not at every step reminded of the inqHirtanco of tho
"material" clement of exposition and reasoning. Paradox,'
however, soon becomes stale, and fallacy wearisome.
Hence, despite its original populiiiity, cristionl sophistry
could not hold its ground. The man of tho world whoJind
cultivated it in his youth regarded it in riper years u.> a
266
SOPHISTS
foolish pedantry, or at best as a propEedeutic exercise ;
while the serious student, necessarily preferring that form
of disputation *hich recognized truth as the end of this
as of other intellectual processes, betook himself to one or
other of the philosophies of the revival.
In order to complete this sketch of the development of
sophistry in tlie latter half of the 5th century and the
earlier half of the 4th, it is necessary next to take account
of Socrates and the Socratics. A foe to philosophy and a
renegade from art, Socrates took his departure from the
same point as Protagoras, and moved in th» same direc-
tion, that of'the education of youth. Finding in the cul-
tivation of " sirtue " or " excellence " a substitute for the
pursuit of scientific truth, aud in disputation the sole
means by which " virtue " or " excellence " could be
attained, he resembled at once the sophists of culture and
the sophists of eristic. But, inasmuch as the "virtue" or
"excellence" which he sought was that of the man rather
than that of the official, while the disputation which he
practised had for its aim, not victory, but the elimination
of error, the differences which , separated him from the'
sophists of culture and the sophists of eristic were only
less considerable than the resemblances which he bore to
both ; and further, though his whole time and attention
were bestowed upon the education of young Athenians, his
theory of the relations of teacher and pupil differed from
that of the recognized professors of education, inasmuch as
the taking of fees seemed to him to entail a base surrender
of the teacher's independence. The principal character-
istics of Socrates's theory of education were accepted,
mutatis mutandis, by the leading Socratics. With these
resemblances to the contemporary professors of education,
and with these differences, were Socrates and the Socratics
sophists or not ? To this question there is no^ simple
answer, yes or no. It is certain that Socrates's contem-
poraries regarded him as a sophist ; and it was only
reasonable that they should so regard him, because in
opposition to the physicists of the past and the artists of
the present he asserted the claims of higher education.
But, though according to the phraseology of the time he
'was a sophist, he was not a typical sophist,- — his principle
that, while scientifio truth is unattainable by man, right
opinion is the only basis of right action, clearly differentiat-
ing him from all the other professors of "virtue." Again,
as the Socratics — Plato himself, when he established him-
self at the Academy, being no exception — were, like their
master, educators rather than philosophers, and in their
teaching laid especial stress upon discussion, they too
were doubtless regarded as sophists, not by Isocrates only,
but by their contemporaries in general ;' and it may be con-
jectured that the disputatious tendencies of the Megarian
school made it all the more difficult for Plato and others to
secure a proper appreciation of the difference between dia-
lectic, or discussion with a view to the discovery of truth,
and eristic, or discussion with a view to victory. Changing
circumstances, however, carrj' with them changes in the
meaning and application of words. Whereas, so long as
philosophy wag in abeyance Socrates and the Socratics were
regarded as sophists of an abnormal sort, as soon as philo-
sophy revived it was dimly perceived that, in so far as
Socrates and the Socratics dissented from sophistry, they
preserved the philosophical tradition. This being so, it was
fotirtd convenient to revise the terminology of the past, and
to include in the philosophical succession those who, though
not philosophers, had cherished the sacred spark. As for
Socrates, he ranked himself neither with the philosophers,
who professed to know, nor with the sophists, who pro-
fessed to teach ; and, if he sometimes described himself as
a 4>iX6<xo<f)os, he was careful to indicate that he pretended
to no other knowledge than that of his own limitations.
It would seem then, (1) that popular nomenclaturo
included under the term "sophist" all teachers — whether
professors, or, like Socrates, amateurs — who communi-
cated, not artistic skill, nor philosoi)hical theory, but a
general or liberal education ; (2) that, of those who were
commonly accounted sophists, some professed culture,
some forensic rhetoric, some political rhetoric, some
eristic, some {i.e., the Socratics) dialectic ; (3) tliat the
differences between the different groups of sojjhists were not
inconsiderable, and that in particular the teaching of tho
rhetoricians was distinct in origin, and, in so far as its
aim was success in a special Avalk of life, distinct iu
character, from the more general teaching of the sophists
of culture, the eristics, and the dialecticians, while tho
teaching of the dialecticians was discriminated from that
of the rest, in so far as the aim of the dialecticians was
truth, or at least the bettering of opinion ; and, conse-
quently, (4) that, iu awarding praise and blame to sophistry
and its represeutatives, the distinctive characteristics of
the groups above enumerated must be studiously kept iu
view.
Lapse of time and change of circumstances brought
with them, not merely changes in the subjecti taught, but
also changes in the popular estimate of sophistry and
sophists. The first and most obvious sentiment which
sophistry evoked was an enthusiastic and admiring interest.
■The sophist seemed to his youthful hearers to open a new
field of intellectual activity and- thereby to add a fresh
zest to existence. But in proportion to the fascination
which he exercised upon the young was the distrust which
he inspired in their less pliable elders. Not only were
they dismayed by the novelty of the sophistical teaching,
but also they vaguely perceived that it was subversive of
authority, of the authority of the parent over the child as
well as of the authority of the state over the citizen. Of the
two conflicting sentiments, the favour of the young, gain-
ing as years passed away, naturally prevailed ; sophistry
ceased to "be novel, and attendance in the lecture- rooms of
the sophists came to be thought not less necessary for the
youth than attendance in the elementary schools for the
boy. The lively enthusiasm and the furious opposition
which greeted Protagoras had now burnt themselves out,
and before long the sophist was treated by the man of the
world as a harmless, necessary pedagogue.
That sophisti-j' must be studieil in its historical (levclnpment
was clearly seen by Plato, who.se ()ialoc;ue called the Sophist con-
tains a formal review of the changing phases and aspects of
sophistical teaching. The subject which is discussed in that
dialogue and its successor the Stalcsmaii being the (juestion
"Are sopliist, statesman, and philosopher identical or different ?"
the Eleate who acts as protagonist seeks a definition of the term
"sophist" by means of a series of divisions or dichotomies. Iu
this way he is led to regard the sophist successively^(l) as a
practitioner of that branch of mercenary persuasion in private
which professes to impart "virtue" and exacts payment in the
shape of a fee, in opposition to the flatterer who pifers pleasure,
asking for sustenance in return ; (2) as a practftioner of that
branch of mental trading which purveys from city to city dis-
courses and lessons about "virtue," in oiiposition to the artist who
similarly purveys discourses and lessons about the arts ; (3) and
(4) as a practitioner of those branches of mental trading, retail
and wholesale, which purvey discourses and lessons about "virtue"
witliin a city, iu opposition to tho artists who similarly purvey J
discourses and lessens about the arts ; (5) as a practitioner of
that branch of eristic which brings to the professor pccnuiaiy
emclnment, eristic being the systeniatie form of ontilogic, andi
dealing with justice, injustice, and other abstractions, and antilogic
being that form of di3]>utation which uses question -and answer
iu private, iu opposition to forensic, which uses continuous
discourse in the law-courts ; (6) as a practitioner of that branch of
education which purges away the vain conceit of wisdom by meaua
of cross-CTtamiotttion, in opposition to the traditional method oi
reproof or admonition. These definitions being thus various, tho
Eleate notes that the sophist, in consideration of a fee, disputes,
aud teaches others to dispute, about things divine, cosmical
metaphysical, legal, political, technical,— in fact, about^eierythiD^
SOPHISTS
267
— not having knowledge of them, because universal knowledge is
nuattainable ; after wliicli lie is in a position to define the sopliist
(7) as a conscious impostor who, in private, by discontinuous
discourse, compels his interlocutor to contradict himself, in opposi-
tion to tlie irip.oKoytK6s, who, in public, by continuous discourse,
imposes upon crowds.
It is clear that the final definition is preferred, not because of
any intrinsic superiority, but because it has a direct bearing upon
the question " Are sophist, statesman, and philosopher identical
or dilferent ? " and that the various definitious represent dilTerent
stages or forms of sophistry as conceived from dili'crent points of
view. Thus the first and second definitions represent the founders
of the sophistry of culture, Protagoras and Prodicus, from tlie
respective points of view of the older Athenians, who disliked the
new culture, and the younger Athenians, who admired it; the
third and fourth definitions represent imitators to whom the note
of itinerancy was not applicable; the fifth definition represents tlio
earlier eristics, contemporaries of Socrates, whom it was necessary
to distinguish from the teachers of fprensic oratory ; the sixth is
framed to meet the anomalous case of Socrates, in whom many
saw the typical sophist, though Plato conceives this view to bo
unfortunate ; and the seventh and final definition, having in view
eristical sophistry fully developed, distinguishes it from Srtfio\ayiicti,
i.e., political rhetoric, but at the same time hints that, though
cotpKrrtKTJ and SjifnoXoyiKTi may be discriminated, they are neverthe-
less near akin, the one being the ape of philosophy, the other the
ape of statesmanship. In short, Plato traces the changes which,
in less than a century, had takeu place in the meaning of the
term, partly through changes in the practice of the sophists, partly
through changes in their surroundings and in public opinion, so
as to show by a familiar instance, that general terms which do not
describe natural kinds cannot have a stable connotation.
Now it is easy to see that in this careful statement Plato
recognizes three periods. The first four definitions represent the
period of Protagora.s, Prodicus, and their immediate successors,
when the object sought was "virtue," "excellence," "culture,"
and the means to it was literature. The fifth and sixth definitions
represent the close of the 5th century, when sophistry handled
eristically, and perhaps, though Plato demurs to the inclusion,
dialoctically, questions of justice, injustice, and the like, Siko^ik^
or forensic rhetoric being its proximate rival. The seventh
definition represents the first half of the 4th century, when
sophistry was eristical in a wider field, having for its rival, not
forensic rhetoric, but the rhetoric of the assembly. Plato's classi-
fication of educational theories is then substantially the classifica-
tion adopted in this article, though, whereas here, in accordance
with woll-attested popular usage, all the educational theories
mentioned are included under the head of sophistry, Plato allows
to rhetoric, forensic and political, an independent position, and
hints that there are grounds for denying the title of sophist to the
dialectician Socrates. Incidentally we gather two important facts, —
(1) that. contemporary with the dialectic of Socrates there was an
eristic, and (2) that tliis eristic was mainly applied to ethical ques-
tions. Finally, we may be sure that, if Plato was thus careful to
distinguish the jthases and aspects of sophistical development, he
could never have fallen into the modern error of bestowing upon
those whom the Greeks called sophists either indiscriminate censure
or indiscriminate laudation.
(2) Relations of Sophistry to Education, Literature, and
Philosophy. — If then the sophists, from Protagoras to
Isocratea, were before everything educators, it becomes
necessary to inquire whether their labours marked or pro-
moted an advance in educational theory and method. At
the beginning of the 5tli century B.C. every young Greek of
the better sort already received rudimentary instruction,
tiot only in music and gymnastics, but also in reading and
writing. Further, in the colonies, and especially the
colonies of the West, philosophy and art had done some-
thing for higher education. Thus in Italy the Pytha-
gorean school was, in the fullest sense of the term, an
educational institution ; and in Sicily the rhetorical teach-
ing of Gorax and Tisias was presumably educational in
the same sense as the teaching of Gorgias. But in central
Greece, where, at any rate down to the Persian Wars,
politics, domestic and foreign, wore all-engrossing, and
left the citizen little leisure for self-cultivation, the need
of a higher education had hardly mado itself felt. The
overthrow of the Persian invaders changed all this.
Henceforward the best of Greek art, philosophy, and
literature gravitated to Athens, and with their concentra-
tion and consequent development cjiuo a general and
growing demand for teaching. As has been seen, it was
just at this period that philosophy and art ceased to be
available for educational purposes, and accordingly the
literary sophists were popular precisely because they
offered advanced teaching which was neither philosophical
nor artistic. Their recognition of the demand and their
attempt to satisfy it are no small claims to distinction.
That, whereas before the time of Protagoras there was
little systematic education in the colonies and less in
central Greece, after his time attendance in the lecture-
rooms of the sophists was the customary sequel to attend-
ance in the elementary schools, is a fact which speaks for
itself.
But this is not all. The education provided by the
sophists of culture had positive merits. When Protagoras
included in his course grammar, style, interpretation of
the poets, and oratory, supplementing his own continuous
expositions by disputations in which he and his pupils
took part, he showed a not inadequate appreciation of the
requisites of a literary education; and it may be conjectured
that his comprehensive programme, which Prodicus and
others extended, had something to do with the develop-
ment of that versatility which was the most notable element
in the Athenian character.
There is less to be said for the teachers of rhetoric,
politics, and eristic, who, in limiting themselves each to a
single subject, — the rhetoricians proper or forensic rheto-
ricians to one branch of oratory, the politicians or political
rhetoricians to another, and the eristics to disputation,—
ceased to be educators and became instructors. Neverthe-
less, rhetoric and disputation, though at the present day
strangely neglected in English schools and universities,
are, within their limits, valuable instruments ; and, as
specialization in teaching does not necessarily imply
specialization in learning, many of those who attended
the lectures and the classes of a rhetorician or an eristic
sought and found other instruction elsewhere. It would
seem then that even in its decline sophistry had its
educational use. But jn any case it may be claimed for
its professors that in the course of a century they
discovered and turned to account most of the instruments
of literary education.
With these considerable merits, normal sophistry had
one defect, its indifference to truth. Despairing of
philosophy, — that is to say, of physical science,— the
sophists were prepared to go all lengths in scepticism.
Accordingly the epideictic sophists in exposition, and the
argumentative sophists in debate, one and all, studied,
not matter but style, not accuracy but effect, not proof
but persuasion. In short, in their hostility to science they
refused to handle literature in a scientific spirit. That
this defect was serious was dimly apprehended even by
those who frequented and admired the lectures of the
earlier sophists; that it was fatal was clearly seen by
Socrates, who, himself coinmonly regarded as a sophist,
emphatically reprehended, not only the taking of fees,
which was after all a mere incident, objectionable because
it seemed to preclude independence of thought, but also
the fundamental disregard of truth which infected every
pare and every phase of sophistical teaching. To these
contemporary censures tho modern critic cannot refuse hm
assent.
■To literature and to oratory tho sophists rendered good
service; Themselves of necessity stylists, because their
professional success largely depended upon skilful and
effective exposition, tho sophists both of culture and o.
rhetoric were professedly teachers of tho rules of grammar
and tho ijrinciplcs of written and spoken discourse. Thus,
by example as well as by precept, they not only taught
their heiircrs to valuo literary and oratorical excellence,
268
SOPHISTS
but also took the lead in fashioning the style of their time.
Their influence in these respects was weighty and import-
ant. Whereas when sophistry began prose composition
was hardly practised in central Greece, the sophists were
still the leaders in literature and oratory when Plato wrote
the Republic, and they had hardly lo.st their position when
Demosthenes delivered the Pki/ippics. In fact, it is not
too much to say that it was the sophists who provided
those great masters with their consummate instrument, and
it detracts but little from the merit of the makers if they
were themselves unable to draw from it its finer tones.
The relation of sophistry to philosophy was throughout
one of pronounced hostility. From the days of Protagoras,
when this hostility was triumphant and contemptuous, to
the days of Isocrates, when it was jealous and bitter, the
sophists were declared and consistent sceptics. But, al-
though Protagoras and Gorgias had examined the teaching
of their predecessors so far .as to satisfy themselves of its
futility and to draw the sceptical inference, their study
of the great problem of the day was preliminary to their
sophistry rather than a part of it; and, as the overthrow
of philosophy was complete and the attractions of sophistry
were all-powerful, the question, "What is knowledge?"
ceased for a time to claim or to receive attention. There
is then no such thing as a " sophistical theory of know-
ledge." Similarly, the recognition of a " sophistical
ethic " is, to say the least, misleading. It may have been
that the sophists' preference of seeming to reality, of
success to truth, had a mischievous effect upon the
morality of the time ; but it is clear that they had no
common theory of ethics, and there is no warrant for the
assumption that a sophist, as such, specially interested
himself in ethical questions. When Protagoras asserted
" civic excellence " or " virtue " to be the end of education,
he' neither expressed nor implied a theory of morality.
Prodicus in his platitudes reflected the customary morality
of the time. Gorgias said plainly that he did not teach
" virtue." If Hippias, Polus, and Thrasymachus defied
conventional morality, they did so independently of one
another, and in this, as in other matters, they were
disputants maintaining paradoxical theses, rather than
thinkers announcing heretical convictions. The morality
of Isocrates bore a certain resemblance to that of Socrates.
In short, the attitude of the sophists towards inquiry in
general precluded them, collectively and individually, from
attachment to any particular .theory. Yet among the
so-called sophists there were two who had philosophical
leanings, as appears in their willingness to be called by
the title of philosopher. First, Socrates, whilst he
conceived that the physicists had mistaken the field of
inquiry, absolute truth being unattainable, maintained, as
has been seen, that one opinion was better than another,
and that consistency of opinion, resulting in consistency
of action, was the end which the human intellect properly
proposes to itself. Hence, though an agnostic, he was not
unwilling to be called a philosopher, in so far as he
pursued such truth as was attainable by man. Secondly,
when sophistry had begun to fall into contempt, the
political rhetorician Isocrates claimed for himself the time-
honoured designation of philosopher, "herein," says Plato,
" resembling some tinker, Jjald-pated and short of stature,
who, having made money, knocks ofi his chains, goes to
the bath, buys a new suit, and then takes ad'^antage of
the poverty and desolation of his master's daughter to urge
upon her his odious addresses " {Rep., vi. 495 E). It
will be seen, however, that neither Socrates nor Isocrates
was philosopher in any strict sense of the word, the
speculative aims of physicists and metaphysicians being
foreign to the practical theories both of the one and of the
other.
As Cor the classification of sophistlciil metlioJs, so for thsir
criticism, the testimony of Plato is all-important. It may be
conjectured that, when he emerged from the purely Socratic phase
of his earlier years, Plato gave himself to the study of coutemporary
methods of education and to the elaboration of an educational
system of his own, and that it was in this way that he came to
the metaphysical speculations of his maturity. It may be imagined
further that, when he established himself at the Academy, his first
care was to draw up a scheme of education, including arithmetic,
geometry (plane and solid), astronomy, harmonics, and. dialectic,
and that it was not until he had arranged for the carrying out of
this programme that he devoted himself to the special functions
of professor of philosophy Sowever this may be, we find amongst
his writings, — intermediate, as it would seem, between the Socratic
conversations of his fii-st period of literary activity and the meta-
physical disquisitions of a later time,— a series of dialogues which,
however varied their ostensible subjects, agree in having a direct
bearing upon education. Thus the Prulagoras brings the educa-
tional theory of Protagoras and the sophists of culture face to face
with the educational theory of Socrates, so as to expose the limita-
tions of both ; the Gorgias deals with the moral aspect of the teach-
ings of the forensic rhetorician Gorgias and the political rhetorician
Isocrates, and the intellectual aspect of their respective theories of
education is handled in the Phasdriis ; the Meno on the one hand
exhibits the strength and the weakness of the teaching of Socrates,
and on the other brings into view the makeshift method of those
who, despising systematic teaching, regarded the practical poli-
tician as the true educator ; the Muthydcmus has for its subject
the eristical method; finally, having in these dialogues characterized
the current theories of education, Plato proceeds in the RepuUie
to develop an original scheme. Plato's criticisms of the sophists
are then, in the opinion of the present writer, no mere oiiter
dicta, introduced for purposes of literaiy adornment or dramatic
effect, but rather the expressions of profound and reasoned convic-
tion, and, as such, entitled at any rate to respect. For the details
of Plato's critique, the reader should go, not to the summaries of
commentators, but to the dialogues themselves. In this place it
is sufficient to say that, while Plato accounts no education satis-
factory which has not knowledge for its basis, he emphatically
prefers tlie scepticism of Socrates, which, despairing of knowledge,
seeks right opinion, to the scepticism of the sophists, which, de-
spairing of knowledge, abandons the attempt to better existing
beliefs.
(3) The Theory of Grote. — The post-Platonic historians
aiid critics, who, while they knew the earlier sophistry
only through tradition, were eye-witnesses of the sophistry
of the decadence, were more alive to the faults than td
the virtues of the movement. Overlooking the differences
which separated the humanists from the eristics, and both
of these from the rhetoricians, and taking no account o(
Socrates, whom they regarded as a philosopher, they
forgot the services which Protagoras and Prodicus, Gorgias
and Isocrates, had rendered to education and to literature,
and included the whole profession in an indiscriminate and
contemptuous censure. This prejudice, establishing itseU
in familiar speech, has descended from antiquity to modern
times, colouring, when it does not distort, the narratives of
biographers and the criticisms of commentators. " The
sophists," says Grote, "are spoken of as a new class ol
men, or sometimes in language whiph implies a new
doctrinal sect or school, as if they then sprang up in
Greece for the first time — ostentatious impostors, flattering
and duping the rich youth for their own personal gain, under-
mining the morality^ of Athens, public and private, and
encouraging their pupils to the unscrupulous prosecution
of ambition and cupidity. They are even affirmed to
have succeeded in corrupting the general morality, so that
Athens had become miserably degenerated and vicious in
the latter years of the Peloponnesian "War, as compared
with what she was in the time of Miltiades and Aristeides ;"
and, although amongst the pre-Grotian scholars there were
some who saw as clearly as Grote himself that "the
sophists are a much-calumniated race " (G. H. Lewos), it
is certain that historians of philosophy, and editors of
Plato, especially the "acumen plumbeum Stallbaumii," had
given ample occasion for the energetic protest contained
in the famous sixty-seventh chapter of Grote's History of
Greece. Amongst the many merits of that adnirs\bl»
» O i^ M i S T S
26Ji
scholar, it is. one of tho greatest that ]ic lias laid "the
fiend called die Sophistik," that is to say, the theory that
sophistry was an organized conspiracy against law and
morals. Nevertheless, in this matter he is always an
advocate; and it inay be thought that, while he success-
fully disposes of the current slander, his description of his
clients needs correction in some important particulars.
Hence the following paragrap'is. while they will resume
and affirm his principal results, will qualify and impugn
some of his positions.
In Bo far as he is critical, Grots leaves little to be
desired. That the persons styled sophists " were not a
sect or school, with common doctrines or method," is clear.
Common doctrine, that' is to say, common doctrine of a
positive sort, they could not have, because, being sceptics,
they had nothing which could be called positive doctrine;
■while there was a period when even their scepticism was
in no wise distinctive, because they shared it with all or
nearly all their contemporaries. Neither were they united-
by a common educational method, the end and the instru-
ments of education being diversely conceived by Prota-
goras, Gorgias, and Isocrates, to say nothing of the wider
differences which separate these three from^ the eristics,
and all the four normal typea from the abnormal type
represented by Socrates.
Again, it is certain that the tlieoretical and practical
morality of the sophists, regarded as a clas.s, was " neither
above nor below the standard of the age." The taking of
fees, tho pride of .professional success, and the teaching
of rheterio are no proofs either of conscious charlatanism
or of ingrained depravity. Indeed, we have evidence
of sound, if conventional, principle in Prodicus's apo-
logue of the " Choice of Heracles," and of honourable,
though eccentric, practice in the story of Protagoras's
treatment of defaulting pupils. But, above all, it is
antecedently certain that defection from the ordinary
standard of morality would have precluded the success
which the ' sophists unquestionably sought and won. In
fact, public opinion made the morality of the sophists,
rather than the sophi.sts the morality of public opinion.
Hence, even if we demur to the judgment of Grote that
" Athens at the close of the Peloponnesian War was not
more corrupt than Athens in the days of Miltiades and
Aristeides," we shall not " consider the sophists as the cor-
ruptors of Athenian morality," but rather with Plato lay
the blame upon society itself, which, "in popular meet-
ings, law-courts, theatres, armies, and other great gather-
ings, with uproarious censure and clamorous applause "
{Rep., vi. 492), educates young and old. and fashions them
according to its pleasure.
Nor can we regard " Plato and his followers as the
authorized teachers of the Greek nation and the sophists
as the dissenters." On the contrary, the sophists were in
quiet possession of the field wlien Plato, returning to
Athens, opened tho rival school of the Academy ; and,
while their teaching in all respects accommodated itself to
current opinion, his, in many matters, ran directly counter
to it.
But if thus far Crete's protest against prevalent
assumptions carries an immediate and unhesitating con-
viction, it may be doubted whether his positive statement
can be accounted final. " The appearance of the sophists,"
he says, " was no now fact The paid teachers —
whom modern writers set down as tho sophists, and
denounce as the modern pestilence of their age — were not
distinguished in any marked or generic way from their
predecessors." Now it is true that before 447 B.C.,
besides the teachers of writing, gymnastic, and music, to
whom the young Greek resorted for elementary instruc-
tion, there were artists and artisans who not only practised
their crafts but also conuuunicated them to apprentices
and pupils, and that accordingly the Platonic Protagoras
recognizes in the gymnast Iccus, the physician Hcrodicus,
and the musicians Agathocles and Pythoclides fore-
runners of the sophist.s. But the forerunners of the
sophists are not to be confounded with the sophists them-
selves, and the difference between them is not far to seek.
Though some of those who resorted to the teachers of
rudiments and the artists derived from them such sub-
stitute for "higher education" as was before 447 generally
obtainable, it was only incidentally that the teachers of
rudiments and the artists communicated anything which
could be called by that name. Contrariwise, the sophists
were always and essentially professors of the higher
education ; and, although in process of time specialization
assimilated sophistry to the arts, at the outset at any rate;
its declared aim — the cultivation of the civic character —
sufficiently distinguished sophistical education both from
rudimentary instruction and from artistic training. It is
true too that in some of the colonies philosophy had
busied itself with higher education; but here again the
forerunners of the sophists are easily distinguished from
the sophists, since the sophists condemned, not only the
scientific speculations of their predecessors, but also their
philosophical aims, and offered to the Greek world a new
employment for leisure, a new intellectual ambition.
Nor is it altogether correct to say that " the persons
styled sophists had no princijjles common to them all and
distinguishing thena from others." Various as were the
phases through which sophistry passed between the middle
of the 5th century and the middle. of the 4th, the sophists —
Socrates himself being no exception — had,in their declared
antagonism to philosophy a common characteristic ; and,
if in the interval, philosophical speculation being tempor-
arily suspended, scepticism ceased for the time to be
peculiar, at the outset, when Protagoras and Gorgias
broke with the physicists, and in the sequel, -when Plato
raised the cry of " back to Parmenides." this common
characteristic was distinctive.
Further, it may be doubted whether Grote is sufficiently
careful to distinguish between the charges brought against
the sophists personally and the criticism of their educa-
tional methods. When the sophists are represented as
conscious impostors who " poisoned and demoralized by
corrupt teaching the Athenian moral character," he has,
as has been seen, an easy and complete reply. But the
question still remains — Was the education provided by
Protagoras, by Gorgia.'!, by Isocrates, by the eristics, and
by Socrates good, bad, or indifferent] And, though tho
modern critic will not be prepared with Plato to deny the
name of education to all teaching which is not based upon
an ontology, it may nevertheless be thought that normal
sophistry — as opposed to the sophistry of Socrates — was
in various degrees unsatisfactory, in so far as it tacitly or
confessedly ignored the "material " element of exposition
or reasoning.
And if Grote overlooks important agreements he seems
also to understate important differences. Ecgarding Pro-
tagoras, Gorgia."!, and Isocrates as types of one and tho
same sophistry (pp. 487, 493, 495, 499, 544, 2d edition),
and neglecting a's slander or exaggeration all tho evidenco
in regard to tho sophistry of eristic (p. 540), he conceives
that tho s6phist3 undertook " to educate young men so as
to make them better qualified for statesmen or ministers,"
and that " that which stood most prominent in tho teach-
ing of Gorgias and the other sophists was, that they
cultivated and improved tho powers of public speaking in
their pupils." Excellent as a statement of tho aim and
method of Isocrates, and tplcrablo as a statement of
those of Gorgias, these \)lirases are inexact if applied to
270
SOPHISTS
Protagoras, wbo, making " civic virtue " his aim, regarded
statesmanship and administratioa as parts o£ "civic
virtue," and consequently assigned to oratory no more
than a subordinate place in his programme, while to the
eristics — whose existence is attested, not only by Plato,
but also by Isocrates and Aristotle — and to Socrates —
whom Grote himself accounts a sophist — the descriplion
is plainly and palpably inappropriate.
Grote's note about the eristieal sophists is perhaps the least
aatiefactory part of his exposition. That " there were in Athens
persons who abused the dialectical exercise for fiivolous puzzles •'
lie admits; but "to treat Euthydcmus and Dionysodorus as
samples of 'The Sophists' is," he continues, "altogether un-
warrantable." It would seem then that, while he regards rhetoric
as the function of normal sophistry, taking indifferently as his
types Protagoias, Gorgias, and Isocnites, he accounts Euthydemus
and Dion-ysodorus (together witli Socrates) as sophists, but as
sophists of an abuormalsort, who may therefore be neglected. Now
this view is inconsistent with the evidence of Plato, who, in the
Sophist, in his final and operative definition, gives promineace to
the eristieal element, and plainly accounts it the main character-
istic, not iudeed of the sophistry of the 5th century, but of the
sophistry of the 4th. It must be presumed then that, in virtue
of his general- suspicions of the Platonic testimony, Grote in this
matter leaves the' Sophist out of account. There is, however,
another theory of the siguificance of Plato's allusions to eristieal
sophistry, that of Prof. H. Sidgwick, whose brilliant defence of
Srote is on indispensable suppleuient to the original document.
Giving a hearty general assent to Grote's theory, Sidgwick never-
theless introduces qualificatious similar to some of those which are
suggested in this article. In particular he allows that "there was
at any rate enough of charlatanism iu Protagoras and Hippias to
prevent any aidour for their historical reputation," that the
sophists generally "had in their lifetime more success than they
deserved," that it was "antagonism to their teaching which
developed the genius of Socrates," and, above all, that, "in his
anxiety to do justice to the Sophist, Grote laid more stress than
is at all necessary on the partisanship of PLato. " Now this last
admission precludes Sidgwick from neglecting, as Grote had done
the evidence of the Kuthydemus. Pointing out that the sophists
of that dialogue " profess cis apexes iirtntXetav irporpi^ai by
means of dialogue," that "they challenge the interlocutor tire'xeii'
xiyof," that "their examples are drawn from common objects aud
vulgar trades," that "they maintain positions that ve know to
have been held by Megarians and Cynics," he infers that "what
we have here presented to us as ' sophistic ' is neither more nor
le^s than a caricature of the Jlegarian logic ;" and further, on the
ground that " the whole conception of Socrates and his effect
on his contemporaries, as all autiiorities combine to represent it,
requires us to assume that his manner of discourse was quite novel,
that no one before had systematically attempted to show men their
ignorance of what they believed themselves to know," he is
"disposed to think that the art of disputation which is ascribed
to sophists in the Eulhydemua and the Sophisteg {and exhaustively
analysed by Aristotle in the wepl '^iKpurriKuv "EXeyx"') originated
entirely with Socrates, and that he is altogether responsible for the
form at least of this second species of sophistic." To this theory
the present writer is unable to subscribe. That Plato was not care-
ful tO' distinguish tlie Megarians and the Cynics from the eristieal
sophists, and that the disputants of the 4th century affected some
of the mannerisms of the greatest disputant of the 5th century, he
willingly concedes. But he cannot allow either that the Megarians
and the Cfynics were the only eristics, or that eristic.il sophistry
began with Socrates. Plainly this is not the place for a full exa-
mination of the ijuestion ; yet it maybe remarked — (1) that the
previous history of the sophists of the Suthydemiis, who had been
professors of tactics (Xenophon, 3km., iii. 1, 1), swordsmanship,
and forensic argumentation, implies that they came to eristic, not
from the sophistry of Socrates, but from that of the later human-
ists, polymaths of the type of Hippias ; (2) that the fifth and sixth
definitions of the Sophist, in which "that branch of eristic which
brings pecuniary gain .to the practitioner" is opposed to the
"patience-trying, purgative elenchus" of Socrates, indicate that
contemporary with Socrates there were eristics whose aims were not
his ; (3) that, whereas the sophist.of the final definition "disputes,
and teaches others to dispute, about things divine, cosmical, meta-
physical, legal, political, technical, in fact, about all things," we have
no ground for supposing that the Megarians and the Cynics used their
eristic for any purpose except the defence of their logical heresies.
Nor is it possible to accept the statements that "the
splendid genius, the lasting influence, and the reiterated
polemics of Plato have stamped the name sophist upon
the men against whom he wrote as if it were their
recognized, legitimate, and peculiar designation," and
that " Plato not only stole the name out of general
circulation, in order to fasten it specially upon his
opponents the paid teachers, but also connected with it
express discreditable attributes which formed np part of
its primitive and recognized meaning and were altogether
distinct from, though grafted upon, the vague sentiment
■of dislike associated with it." That is to say, Grote
supposes that for at least eight and forty years, from 447
to 399, the paid professors had no professional title ; that,
this period having elapsed, a youUiful opponent succeeded
in fastening an uncomplimentary title, not o»)!y upon the
contemporary teachers, but also, retrospectivelj', upon
their predecessors ; and that, artfully enhancing the
indignity of the title affixed, he thus obscured, perverted,
and effaced the records and the memories of the past.
Manifestly all three propositions are antecedently im-
probable. But more than this : whereas in the nomen-
clatupe of Plato's contemporaries Protagoras, Gorgias,
Socrates, Dionysodorus, and Isocrates were all of them
sophists, Plato himself iu his carcfid investigation sum-
marized above limits the meaning of the term so that it
shall include the humanists and the eristics only. Now,
if hia use of the term was stricter than the customary use,
he can 'lardly be held answerable for the latter.
Nor is Grote altogether just in las account of Plato's
attitude towards the several sophists, or altogether
judicious in his appreciation of Plato's testimony. How-
ever contemptuous in his portraiture of Hippias and
Dionysodorus, however severe in his polemic against
Isocrates, Plato regards Protagoras with admiration and
Gorgias with respect. While he emphasizes in the later
sophists the consequences of the fundamental error of
sophistry, — its indifference to truth, — be does honoiu- to the
genius and the originality of the leaders of the movement.
Indeed, the author of this article finds in the writings
of Plato a grave and discriminating study of the several
forms of sophistry, but no trace whatsoever of that blind
hostility wlych should warrant us in neglecting his clear
and precise evidence;
In a word, the present writer agrees with Grote that
the sophists were, not a sect or school with common
doctrine or method ; that theil; theoretical and practical
morality was neither above nor below that of their age,
being, in fact, determined by it ; and that Plato and his
followers are not to be regarded as the authorized teachers
of the Greek nation, nor the sophists as the dissenters, but
vice versa. At the same time, in opposition to Grote, he
maintains that the appearance of the sophists marked la
new departure, in so far as they were the first professors
of " higher education " as such ; that they agreed in the
rejection of "philosophy"; that the education which they
severally gave was open to criticism, inasmuch as, with the
exception of Socrates, they attached too much import-
ance to the form, too little to the matter, of their
discourses and arguments ; that humanism, rhetoric,
politic, and disputation were characteristic, not of al!
sophists collectively, but of sections of the profession;
that Plato- was not the first to give a special meaning to
the term " sophist " and to affix it upon the professors of
education ; and, , finally, that Plato's evidence is in all
essentials trustworthy.
Bibliography.— On the significance of the sophistical move-
ment, see E. Zeller, Philosophic d. Griechen, 4th ed., Leipsic, 1876,
i. 932-1041 {Prcsocralic Philosophy, London, ISSl, ii. 394-516);
G. Grote, Bi.ilory of Greece, London, 1851, &c., ch. Ixvii. ; E. M.
Cope, "On the Sophists," and "On the Sophistical Rhetoiic," in
Jour. Class, and Sacr. Philol., Cambridge, ii. 1S55, and iii. 1S57,
an erudite but inconclusive reply tu Grote; H. Sidgwick, "Tlio
Sophists," in Jour, of Philol., Cambridge, iv. 1S72, and v. 1374,
a brilliant defence of Grote; A. W. rienu, Tlic Greek Philosophers,
London, 1882, i. 53-107. Compaic Ethics, vol. viii. pp. n/6-577.
S O P — S O P
271
For lists of treatises upon the life and teaching of jiarticulav sophisb:.
tee Ucberwcg, Gnaidriss d. Gesch. d. Fhilos., i. §§ 21-Z.i (History
of Philosophy, London, 1880). On tho later uso of the term
"sophist," see Rhetoric. (H. JA.)
SOPHOCLES, the most perfect, and next to .(Eschylus
the greatest, of Greek tragic poets, was born 495 B.C. and
died 406 B.C. As in tho case of other Athenian • cele-
brities, various particulars of his life are handed down,
few of which, however, deserve much attention, even the
reports attributed to contemporaries being mostly trivial
if not puerile. He is known to have reached old age, and
his career as a dramatist is believed to have extended over
more than sixty years (46S-40G). His father's name was
Sophillus, of the deme Colonus Hippius, the aristocratic
quarter, where the Government of the Four Hundred was
afterwards constituted. The family burial-place is said
by the anonymous biographer to have been ten stadia
from the city, on the Decelean Way. These facts run
counter to the tradition, which sesms to have been already
discredited by Alexandrian critics, that Sophillus was an
artisan. The date assigned for the poet's birth is in
accordance with the tale that young Sophocles, then
a pupil of the musician I^amprus, las chosen to lead
the chorus of boys {-^Oiuiv \(ktol, CEd. Tyr., IS) in the
celebration of the victory of Salamis (480 B.C.). The
time of his death is fi.xed by the -allusions to it in the
Frogs of Aristophanes and in the Mtises, a lost play of
Phrynichus, the comic poet, which were both produced in
405 B.C., shortly before the capture of tho city. And the
legend which implies that Ly.?ander allowed him funeral
honours is one of those which, like the story of Alexander
and Pindar's house at Thebes, we can at least wish to be
fouuded on fact, though we should probably substitute
Agis for Lysander. . Apart from tragic victories, tho
event of Sophocles's life most fully authenticated is his
appointment at the age of fifty-five as one of the generals
who served with Pericles in the Samian War (440-439
B.C.). Conjecture has been rife as to the possibility of
his here improving acquaintance with Herodotus, whom
he probably met some years earlier at Athens (sec
Herodotos). . But the distich quoted by Plutarch —
Titvr* iirX TTtfTOKOVTa —
is a slight ground on which to reject the stronger tradition
according to which Herodotus was ere this established at
Thurii ; and the coincidences in their writings may be
accounted for by their having drawn from a common
source. The fact of Sophocles's generalship is the less sur-
prising if taken in connexion with the interesting remark
of his biographer (whoso Life, though absent from the
earliest MS. through some mischance, bears marks of an
Alexandrian origin) that he took his full share of civic
duties, and even served on foreign embassies : — KaXws t
CTraiSevBr} Kal iTpd<j>r} iv (liTropin, Koi iv TroXireirt Koi tV
irpeir ft € Cat's e$T)Td^(ro. The large acquaintanceship
which this implies, not only in Athens, but in Ionic cities
generally, is a point of main importance in considering tho
opportunities of information at his command. And, if wa
credit this assertion, we are the more at liberty to doubt
the other statement, thougli it is not incredible, that his
appointment as general was duo to tho political wisdom of
the Antigone.
The testimony borfie by Aristophanes to the amiability
of tlio poet's temper (6 8' ei/xoAos fiiv ivOo.^, c«'ko\o9 8' <Ktt)
agrees with the record of his biographer that he was
universally beloved. And the anecdote recalled by
Cephalus in Plato's JiepiiUic, that Sophocles welcomed tho
release from the passions which is brought by age, accords
with the spirit of his famous Ode to Love in the Anti-
gone. The Sophocles who, according to Aristotle {Rket.,
iii. 18), said of the Goverument of the Four Hundred that
it was the better of two bad alternatives (probably the
same who was one of the probuli) may or may not have
been the poet. Other gossiping stories are hardly worth
repeating, — as that Pericles rebuked his love of pleasure
and thought him a bad general, though a good poet ;
that he humorously boasted of his own " generalship " in
affairs of love ; or that he said' of ./Eschylus that he
was often right without knov.-ing it. and that Euripides
represented men as they are, uot as they ought to be.
Such trifles rather reflect contemporary or subsequent
impressions of a superficial kind than tell us anything
about the man or the dramatist. The gibe of Aristophanes
{Pax, 695 sq.), that Sophocles in his old age was become a
very Simonides in his love for gain, may turn on some
perversion of fact,' without being altogether fair to either
poet. It is certainly irreconcilable with the remark ( Vit.
Anon.) that in spite of pressing invitations he refused
to leave Athens for kings' courts. And the story of his
indictment by his son lophon for incompetence to manage
his affairs, — to which Cicero has given some weight by
quoting it in the De Senectute, — appears to be really trace-
able to Satyrus (Jior. c. 200 B.C.), the same author who
gave publicity to the most ridiculous of the various absurd
accounts of the poet's death, — that his breath failed him
for, want of a pause in reading some passage of the
Antigone. Satyrus is at least the sole authority for the
defence of the aged poet, who, after reciting passages from
the (Ed. Col., is supposed to have said to his accusers,
" If I am Sophocles I am no dotard, and if I dote I
am not Sophocles." On the other hand, we need not
the testimony of biographers to assure us that he was
devoted to Athens and renowned for piety. He is said
to have been priest of the hero Alcon (or Halon) in his
old age, and himself to have received divine honours after
death.
That the duty of managing the actors as well as of
training the chorus belonged to the author is well known.
But did .(Eschylus act in his own plays ? This certaiaiy
is implied in the tradition that Sophocles, because of the
weakness of his voice, was the first poet who desisted
from doing so.' Jn his Thamyi-as, however, he is said to
have performed on the lyre to admiration, and in his
Nausicaa (perhaps as coryphaeus) to have played gracefully
the game of ball. Various minor improvements in decora-
tion and stage carpentry are attributed to him, — whether
truly or not who can toll 1 It is more interesting, if
true, that he wrote his plays having certain actors in his
eye; that he. formed an association .(^tWov) for the pro-
motion of liberal culture ; and that he was the first to
introduce three actors on the stage.^ iLirasserted on the
authority of Aristoxenus that Sophocles was also the
first to employ Phrygian melodies. And it is easy to
believe that Aj., 693 sq., Track., 205 sq., were sung to
Phrygian music, though there are strains inyEschylus (e.g.,
Choeph., 152 sq., 423 sq.), which it is hard to distinguish
essentially from these. Ancient critics had also noted his
familiarity with Homer, Bspecially with the Odyssey, his
power of selection and of extracting an exquisite grace
from all he touched (whence ho was named the "Attic
Bee "), his mingled felicity and boldness, and, above all,
his subtle delineation of human nature. and fooling. They
observed that tho balanced proportions nnd fine articula-
tion of his work are such that in a single half lino or phrase
ho often conveys tho impression of an entire character.
• If ftuy^f Sophoclea's olcgios or odes wuru " pot-boUoni," thl» riiglit
ho duo rather to his easy temper (tiiKoKia) in j'iolding l-o a provulent
habit of tlio time than lo any moonue^i [fiauavala or ^Aicrvp.^T-iit).
* If this was so, it must liavo. been previous to tliu appuarouce of
tho Orestcan trilogy.
272
SOPHOCLES
Nor is this verdict of antiquity likely to be reversed
by modern criticism. The object of the present article,
however, is not to praise Sophocles, but rather to describe
him. And it is time to turn from Alexandrian or
Byzantine fancies and judgments to the poet's extant
works.
His minor poems, elegies, paeans, &c., have all perished;
and of his hundred and odd dramas only seven remain.
These all belong to the period of his maturity (he had
no decline) ; and not only the titles (as Lessing said) but
some scanty fragments of more than ninety others have
been preserved. Several of these were, of course, satyric
dramas. And this recalls a point of some importance,
which has been urged on the authority of Suida.% who says
that " Sophocles began the practice of pitting play against
play, instead of the tetralogy." If it were meant that
Sophocles did not exhibit tetralogies, this statement
would have simply to be rejected. For the word of
Suidas (950 a.d.) has no weight against quotations from the
lists of tragic victories (SiSao-KaXi'ai) which there is no other
reason for discrediting. The remark might be due to the
impression made on some critics by the greater complexity
and completeness of a play of Sophocles — say the CEdipvs
Tyrannm or Aiitigone^tis compared, say, with the Persx
or the Septem contra Thebas. It is distinctly asserted, for
example, on the authority of the StSao-KoAiat, that the
Bacchm of Euripides, certainly as late as any play of Sopho-
cles, was one of a trilogy or tetralogy. And if the custom
was thus maintained for so long it was clearly impossible for
any single competitor to break through it. But it seems
probable that the trilogy had ceased to be the continuous
development of one legend or cycle of legends, — "pre-
senting Thebes or Pelops' line,"— if, indeed, it ever was so
exclusively ; and if, as Scholl and others have suggested,
a Sophoclean tetralogy was still linked together by some
subtle hpnd of tragic thought or feeling, this would not
afEect tCe criticism of each play considered as an artistic
whole. At the same time it appears that the satyric
drama lost its grosser features and became more or less
assimilated to the milder form of tragedy. And these
.changes, or something like them, may have given rise to
the statement in Suidas.^
If the diction of Sophocles sometimes reminds .his
readers of the Odyssey, the subjects of his plays were more
frequently chosen from those later epics which subse-
quently came to be embodied in the epic cycle, — such as
the jEthiopis, the Little Iliad, the Iliupersis, the Cypria,
the Jfosti, the Telegonia (all revolving round the tale of
Troy), the Thehaica, the OtxaXtas aXwa-i^, and others, in-
cluding probably, though there.is no mention of such a thing,
some early version of the Argonautic story. In one or other
of these heroic poems the legends of all the great cities of
Hellas were by this time embodied ; and, though there
must also have been a cloud of oral tradition floating over
many a sacred spot, the dramatic poet does not seem,
unless in the CEdipus Coloneus, to have directly drawn
from this. He was content to quarry from the epic
rhapsodies the materials for his more concentrated art,
much as Shakespeare made use of Hollingshed or Plutarch,
or as the subjects of Tennyson's Idylls of the King have
been taken from Sir Thomas Malory. As Sophocles, has
been accused of narrowing the range of tragic sympathy
from Hellas to Athens, it deserves mention here that, of
some hundred subjects of plays attributed to him, fifteen
only are connected with Attica, while exactly the same
' The advantages and defects of tlie trilogy as a dramatic form are
Rdmirably stated by G. Giintliei-, Gi-undiilgt der Tragischen Kunst,
Berlin, 1885. The small number of victories attributed to Sophocles,
in proportion to tlie number of his plays, is only intelUgibls on the
suppositioa that these were presented in groups.
number belong to the tale of Argos, twelve tire Argonautic,
and thirty Trojan. Even Corinthian heroes (Bellerophon,
Polyidus) are not left out. It seems probable on the whole
that, within the limits allowed by convention, Sophocles
was guided simply by his instinctive perception of the
tragic capabilities of a particular fable. This was evidently
Lessing's view, and may be confirmed by quoting his striking
remarks upon the subject of one of the lost tragedies, the
Thyestes at Sicyon : —
" Nach der abscheulichen Mahlzeit, die ihm sein Bruder bereitete,
flog er nach Sicyon. Und hier war es wo or, auf Bcfragung des
Orakels, wie er sich an seinem Bruder rachen sollte, die Antwort
bekam, er sollte seine eigne Tochter entehren. Er iiberficl dies
auch unbckannter Weise ; und aus diesem Beischlafe ward .ffigisth,
der den Atreus heinach umbrachte, erzeugt. Die Verzweiflung
einer geschandeten Prinzessin 1 Von einem Unbekannten ! In
welchem sie cndlich ihren Vater erkennt ! Eine von ihrem Vater
entehrte Tochter! Und aus Rache entehrt ! Gcschandet, einen
Mbrder zu gebaren ! Welche Situationen ! welche Scenen I "
To say that subsidiary or collateral motives were never
present to Sophocles in the selection of a subject would,
however, be beyond the mark. His first drama, the
Triptolemus, must have been full of local colouring ; the
Ajax appealed powerfully to the national pride ; and in
the CEdipus Coloneits some faint echoes even of oligarch-
ical partisanship may be possibly discerned. But, even
where they existed, such motives xvere collateral and
subsidiary ; they were never primary. All else was sub-
ordinated to the dramatic, or, in other words, the purely
human, interest of the fable. This central interest is even
more dominant and pervading in Sophocles than the
otherwise supreme influence of religious and ethical ideas.
The idea of destiny, for example, was of course inseparable
from Greek tragedy. Its prevalence was one of the
conditions which presided over the art from its birth, and,
unlike jEschylus, who wrestles with gods, our poet simply
accepts it, both as a datum of tradition and a fact of life.
But in the free handling of Sophocles even fate and
providence are adminicular to tragic art. They are
instruments through which sympathetic emption is
awakened, deepened, intensified. And, while the vision of
the eternal and unwritten laws was holier yet, for it was
not the creation of any former age, but rose and
culminated, with the Sophoclean drama, still to the poet
and his Periclean audience this was no abstract notion,
but was inseparable from their impassioned coutemplatioD
of the life of man — so great and yet so helpless, aiming
so high and falling down so far, a plaything of the gods
and yet essentially divine. This lofty vision subdued with
the serenity of awe the terror and pity of the scene, but
from neither could it take a single tremor or a single tear
Emotion was the element in which Greek tragedy lived
and moved, albeit an emotion that was curbed to a serene
stillness through its very depth and intensity.
The final estimate of Sophoclean tragedy must largely
dej end upon the mode in which his treatment of destiny
is t inceived. That .(Eschylus had risen on the wings of
faith to a height of prophetic vision, from whence he saw
the triumph -of equity and the defeat of wrong as an
eternal process moving on toward one divine event, — that
he realized sin, retribution, responsibility, as no other
ancient did, — may be gladly conceded.- But it has been
argued 2 that because Sophocles is saddened by glancing
down again at actual life, — because in the fatalism of the
old fables he finds the reflexion of a truth, — he in so far
takes a step backward as a tragic artist. Now is this
altogether just? His value for what is highest in man ia
none the less because he strips it of earthly rewards, nor
is his reverence foi- eternal law. less deep because he knows
that its workings are sometimes pitiless. Nor, once more,
'^ Giinther, op. cit.
3OPH0CLtuS
273
does he disbelieve in providence, because experience has
shown him that the end towards which the supreme
powers lead forth mankind is still unseen. We miss some-
thing of the exultant energy of the Marathonian man, but
under the grave and gentle guidance of his successor we
lose nothing of the conviction that, "because right is
right, to follow right were wisdom in the scorn of conse-
quence." Not only the utter devotion of Antigone, but
the lacerated innocence of CEdipus and Deianira, the
tempted truth of Neoptolemus, the essential nobility of
Ajax, leave an impress on the heart which is ineffaceable,
and must elevate and purify while it remains. In one
respect, however, it must be admitted that Sophocles is
not before his age. There is an element of unrelieved
vindictiveness, not merely inherent in the fables, but
inseparable from the poet's handling of some themes,
which is only too consistent with the . temper of the
"tyrant city." ./Eschylus represents this with equal
dramatic vividness, but ho associates it, not with heroism,
but with crime.
Sophocles is often praised for skilful construction. But
the secret of his skill depends in large measure on the
profound way in which the central situation in each of his
fables has been conceive^ and felt. Concentration is the
distinguishing note of tragedy, and it is by greater
concentration that Sophocles is distinguished from other
tragic poets. In the Septem contra Tkebas or the
Prometheus there is still somewhat of epic enlargement
and breadth ; in the Hecuba and other dramas of
Euripides separate scenes have an idyllic beauty and
tenderness which affect us more than the progress of the
action as a whole, a defect which the poet sometimes tries
to compensate by some novel denouement or catastrophe.
But in following a Sophoclean tragedy we are carried
steadily and swiftly onward, looking neither to the right
nor to the left ; the more elaborately any scene or single
speech is wrought the more does it contribute to enhance
the main emotion, and if there is a deliberate pause it is
felt either as a welcome breathing space or- as the calm of
brooding expectancy.
The result of this method is the union, in the highest
degree,' of simplicity wilh complexity, of largeness of
design with absolute finish, of grandeur with harmony.
Superfluities are thrown off without an effort through the
burning. of the fire within. Crude elements are fused and
made transparent. What look like ornaments are found
to be inseparable from the organic whole. Each of the
plays is admirable in structure, not because it is cleverly
put together, but because it is so completely alive.
The spectator of a SojAoelean tragedy was invited to
witness the supreme crisis of an individual destiny, and
was possessed at the outset with the circumstances of
the decisive moment. Except in the Trachinix, where
the retrospective soliloquy of Deianira is intended to
emphasize her lonely position, this exposition is effected
through a brief dialogue, in which the protagonist may or
may not take part. In the CEdipus Tyrannus the king's
entrance and his colloquy with the aged priest introduce
the andience at once to the action and to the chief person.
In the Ajax and Philocletes the entrance or discovery of
the hero is made more impressive by being delayed.
Immediiitely after the prologos the chorus enter, number-
ing fiftovMi, cither chanting in procession as in the
Antigone and QHd. Tyr., or disperscdly as in the (Ed.
Col. and Philocteles, or, thirdly, as in the Electro, where,
after entering silently during the monody of the heroine,
and taking up their |x>sition is the orchestra, they address
her one by one. With a remarkable exception, to bo
noted presently, the chorus having once entered remain to
the end. Tney alway.s sL..nd in some carefully adjusted
22—12
relation to tne principal figure. The elders of Thebes,
whose age and coldness throw into relief the fervour and
the desolation of Antigone, are the very men to realize the
calamity of QJdipus, and, while horror-stricken, to lament
his fall. The rude Salaminian mariners are loyal to Ajax,
but cannot enter into his grief. The Trachinian maidens
would gladly support Deianira, who has won their hearts,
but they are too young and inexperienced for the task.
The noble Argive women can sympathize with the sorrows
of Electra, but no sympathy can soothe her distress.
The parodos of the chorus is followed by the first scene
or epeisodion, with which the action may be said to begin.
For in the course of this the spectator's interest is strongly
roused by some new circumstance involving an unforeseen
complication, — the awakening of Ajax {Aj.), the burial of
Polynices {Ant.), the dream of Clytaemnestra {EL), the dark
utterance of Tiresias {(Ed. Tyr.), the arrival of Lichas with
lole {Track.), the report of Ismene announcing Creon's
coming {(Ed. Col.), the sudden entreaty of Philoctetea
crossed by the entrance of the pretended mariner {Phil.).
The action from this point onwards is like a steadily flow-
ing stream into which a swift and turbulent tributary
has suddenly fallen, and the interest advances with rapid
and continuous climax until the culmination is reached
and the catastrophe is certain. The manner in which
this is done, through the interweaving of the p»;o-cis and
oTixo/.iu6i'a of the dialogue with the crao-i/ia of the chorus,
and the Ko/i/jioC and KOfifianKci (where there is interchange
between the chorus and the persons), is very different in
different dramas, one of the principal charms of Sophocles
being his power of ingenious variation in the employment
of his resources. Not less admirable is the strength with
which he sustains the interest after the peripeteia,^ whether,
as in the Antigone, by heaping sorrow upon sorrow, or, as
in the first (Edipus, by passing from horror to tenderness
and unlocking the fountain of tears. The extreme point
of boldness in arrangement is reached in the Ajax, where
the chorus and Tecmessa,' having been warned of the
impending danger, depart severally in quest of the vanished
hero, and thus leave not only the stage but the orchestra
vacant for the soliloquy that precedes his suicide.
No such general description as has been here at-
tempted can give even a remote impression of the march
of Sophoclean tragedy, — by what subtle yet firm and
strongly marked gradations the plot is unfolded ; how
stroke after stroke contributes to the harmonious totality
of feeling; what vivid interplay, on the stage, in the
orchestra, and between both, builds up the majestic, ever-
moving spectacle. Examine, for example, ths opening
scene or irpoXo^os of the CEdipus Tyrannus. Its function
is merely fo propound the situation; yet it is in itself a
miniature drama. First there is the silent spectacle of
the eager throng of suppliants at the palace gate, — young
children, youths, and aged priests. To them the king
appears, with royal condescension and true public zeaL
The priest expresses their heartfelt loyalty, describes the
distress of Thebes, and, extolling CEdipus's past services^
implores him to exercise his consummate wisdom for the
relief of his people. The king's reply unveils yet furthea
his incessant watchfulness and anxious care for hit
subjects. And he discloses a new object to their expect-
ancy and hope. Creon, a royal person, had been sent to
Delphi, and should ere then have returned with the
response of Apollo. At this all hearts are trembling in
suspense, when a figure is 6een approaching. Ho is
wreathed with Apollo's laurel ; he looks cheerfully. What
has Phoebus said! Another moment of suspense is
interposed. Then the oracle is repeated, — so thrillingjo
' A tragic action hn3 five stages, -whence tlio five acts of llio nioMc™
dnuiia : — the start, the riw. the height, the change, the clow
274
S 0 P — S O P
the spectator who understands the story, so full of doubt
and hope and dread to all the persons of the drama :
"It is for the blood of Laius — his murderers are harboured
in the land of Thebes. The country must be purged."
That is the culminating point of the little tragedy. TVhile
CEdipus asks for information, while in gaiety of heart he
undertakes the search, while he bids the folk cf Cadmus to
be summoned thither, the spectators have just time to take
in the full significance of what has passed, which every
word that is uttered sends further Jiome. All this in 150
lines I
Or, once more, consider tlie employment of narrative by
this great poet The Tyrannns might be again adduced,
but let us turn instead to the Antigone and the Trackinix,
The speech of the messenger in the Antigone, the speeches
of H^'Uus and the Nurse in the Trachinise, occur at the
supreme crises of the two dramas. Yet there is no sense
of any retardation in the action by the report of what has
been happening elsewhere. Much rather the audience are
carried breathlessly along, while each speaker brings before
their mental vision the scene of which he had himself been
part. It is a drama within the drama, an action rising
from its starting point in rapid climax, swift, full, con-
centrated, until tha4 wave subsides, and is followed by a
moment of thrilling expectation. Nor is this all. The
narrative of the messenger is overheard by Eurydice, that
of Hyllus is heard by Deianira, that of Nurse by the
chorus of Maidens. And in each case a poignancy of
tragic significance is added by this circumstance, while the
p^o-ts in the Antigone, and that of Hyllus in a yet higher
degree, bind together in one the twofold interest of an
action which might otherwise seem in danger of distract-
ing the spectator.
So profound is the contrivance, or, to speak more accur-
ately, such is the strength of central feeling and conception,
which- secures the grace of unity in complexity to the
Sophoclean drama.
The proportion of the lyrics to the level dialogue is
considerably less on the average in Sophocles than in
iEschylus, as might be expected from the development of
the purely dramatic element, and the consequent subord-
ination of the chorus to the protagonist. In the seven
extant plays the lyrical portion ranges from one-fifth to
nearly one-thi^'d, being highest in the Antigone and lowest
in the (£dipus Tyrannus. The distribution of the lyrical
parts is still more widely diversified. In the Electra, for
instance, the chorus has less to do than in the (Edipus
Tyrannus, although in. the former the lyrics constitute
one-fourth, and iu the latter only one-fifth of the whole.
But then the part of Electra is favourable to lyrical out-
bursts, whereas it is only after the tragic change that
CEdipus can appropriately pass from the stately senariiis to
the broken language of the dochmiac and the " lamenting"
anapaest. The protagonists of the Ajax and the Philoctetes
had also large opportunities for vocal display.
The union of strict symmetry with freedom and variety
which is throughout characteristic of the wcrk of
Sophocles is especially noticeable in his handling of the
tragia metres. In the iambics of his dialogue, as compared
with those of .^schylus, there is an advance which may be
compared with the transition from "Marlowe's mighty
line " to the subtler harmonies of Shakespeare. Felicitous
pauses, the linking on of line to line, trisyllabic feet
introduced for special effects, alliteration both hard and
soft, length of speeches artfully suited to character and
aitUi>■t^ons^ adaptation of the CKSura to the feeling
»zpres8e<L 'i^'s some of the points which occur most readily
in thinkia 5 of his senarii. A minute speciality may be
outcd as illustrative of his manner in this respect. Where
» line ii broken by a pause towards the end, and the latter
phrase runs on into the following line, elision sometimes
takes place between the lines, e.g. {CEd. Tyi:, 332-3) :
'Eyi oSt' inavrhv oSt« a a\ymu. -rl tuvt
This is called synaphen, and is peculiar to Sophocles.
He differentiates more than ^schylus does between the
metres to be employed in the Ko/x/toi (including the
KoiijxaTiKo.) and in the choral odes. The dochmius. cretic
and free anapaest are employed chiefly in the ko/x/xoi. In
the stasima he has greatly developed the use of logacedic
and particularly of glyconic rhythms, and far le.ss fre-
quently than his predecessor indulges in long continuous
runs of dactyls or trochees. The light trochaic line
^^ i- - — ) so frequent in jEschylus, is comparatively
rare in Sophocles. If, from the very severity with which
the choral element is subordinated to the purely dramatic,
his lyrics have neither the magnificent sweep of .iEschylus
nor the "linked sweetness" of Euripides, they have a
concinnity and point,- a directness of aim, and a truth of
dramatic keeping, more perfect than is to be found in
either. And even in grandeur it would be hard to find
many passages to bear comparison with the second
stasimon, or central ode, either of the Antigone (ai^ai/iovei
olcTL KaKtliv) or the first CEdipus (el /xoi ^vfirj ■ <f>€povTi).
Nor does anything in Euripides equal in grace and sweet-
ness the famous eulogy on Colonus (the poet's birthplace)
in the (Edipus Coloneus.
Sophocles was' edited (probably from the Venetian MSS.) by
Aldus Manutius, with the help of Musuru^ in 1502. The Juntine
editions, in which the text of Aldus was slightly modified with
the help of Florentine MSS., were pLblished in 1522, 1547,
respectively. An edition of the Scholia, 7ery nearly corresponding
to those on the margin of the Medicean or chief Laurentiau MS.
(La or L) had previously appeared at Rome in 1518. The first
great modification of the text was due to Turnebus, who had access
to the Parisian MSS. ; but he was not fortunate i.i his selection.
The earliest editors had been aware that the traditional an-ange-
ment of the metres was faulty, but little- way had been made
towards a readjustment Now it so happens that the Parisian
MS. T, which is a copy of the recension of Tricliuius, an early 14th"
centiuy scholar, contains also the metrical views of the same editor i
and, having found (as he erroneously supposed) a sound authonty,
Turnebus blindly adopted it, and was followed in this by H. Ste-
phanus (1568), Capperonier, and VauviUers iu France, and Canter
in Holland (who was the first to mark the correspondence of strophe
and antistrophe). This error was to a large extent corrected by
Brunck (1786), who rightly preferred Par. A (2712), a 13th-centnry
MS., belonging, as it happened, to the same family with Ven.
467, which Aldus had mainly followed. Thus after nearly three
centuries the text returned (though with many conjectural varia-
tions, soma of which were due to Scaliger, Auratus, and other earlier
scholars) into nearly the same channel as at first. Meanwhile
the study of Greek metres had greatly advanced, and, while much
licence was given to conjecture (in which Valcknaer and Porson
were especially happy), documentary evidence was also better
weighed and sifted. The collation of the Laurentian MS. by Peter
Ehnsley in 1S25 (with his transcription t\f the Scholia) may bo
said to mark the most important epoch In the textual criticism
of Sophocles. But the great work of Gottfried Hermann, whose
editions (1S23-1830), which are critical iu every sense of the wonl,
are adon\ed with an ample Latin commentary, made perhaps the
longest step in. advance. Since Hermann the editoi's of Sophocles
have been very numerous. The list, from Schneidewin to Wecldein
and Pappageorgins amongst Continental scholais and from Liuwood
to Jebb (who is last, not least) amongst our own, is too long for
insertion here. (L. C.)
SOPHKON of Syracuse, next to Epicharmus the
greatest representative of Sicilian comedy, flourished about
430 B.C. He was the author of mimes, written in prose,
containing both male and female characters — Mi/noi dt-Spciot
and Mr^ot yuvaiKEtot— and depicting scenes from the daily
life of the Sicilian Greeks. From the extremely scanty
fragments which remain of his -writings we can only see
that he used the local dialect, frequently sacrificing refine-
ment to vigour ; he sometimes reminds us of Plautus in
his employment of bold and expressive figures and turns
of expression. But we can judge of the dramatic power
S O P — S 0 R
275
and vivacity of Lis compositions from the story that Plato
first introduced them to Athens, and studied them in
order to give animation to his own dialogues ; and some
idea of the general character of his mimes may be derived
from the 2d and 15th idyls of Theocritus, which are
said to have been ' imitated from the 'AKcorpioi and
"lo-^/uia^ouo-ai of his Syracusan predecessor.
The fragments of Sopbron, most of which have been preserved
to illustrate some point of grammar or tlialcct, are collected in
ibreus, Dc Grxcx Linguss DialcctU, vol ii. pp. 464—476.
SOPEON.' See OedenbukG;
SORA, a city of Italy, at the head of a circondario in
the province of Cascrta (Terra di Lavoro), is built in a
plain on the banks of the Garigliano and on the highway
from Kome via Tivoli and Avezzanc to Naples. It is the
seat of important manufactures, — wool-spinning, cloth-
weaving, and paper-making, — this last industry dating
from the 'time of Murat. The original cathedral, conse-
crated by Pope Adrian IV. in 1155, was destroyed by the
earthquake of 1634. The population of the city was 8768
in 1861 and 5411 (commune 13,208) in 1881.
Sora, an ancient Volscian town, was thrice captured by tbo
Romans, in 345, 314, and 305 B.c.-beforB they managed, in 303, by
means of a colony 4000 strong, to confirm its annexation. In 209
it was one of the colonics which refused further contributions. By
the lex .Julia it became a municipium, but under Augustus it was
colouizcj by soldiers of tbe 4th legion. The castle of Sorella,
built ou the rocky height above the town, was in the Middle Ages
a stronghold of some note ; on one occasion it held out successfully
aminst a whole year's vigorous siege by William II. of Sicily.
Alfonso o£ Aragon made Sora a duchy for the Cantelmi ; it was
afterwards seized by Pius II,, but, being restored to the Cantelmi
by SLxtus IV., it ultimately passed to the Delia Rovere of Urbino.
Against Cnjsar Borgia the city was heroically defended by Giovanni
di Montefeltro. Captured by the marquis of Pescara for Charles
v., it was by him bestowed on Carlo Ceares, duke of Croy and
Arcscot, but, Ceares being afterwards bought out, the duchy was
restored to the duke of Urbino. By Gregory XIII. it was purchased
for 11,000 ducats and bestowed on his son Buoncompagni, the
ancestor of the line of Buoncompagni-Ludovisi. In ancient times
Sora was the birthplace of the Decii, Attilius Regulus, and Lucius
Mummius ;■ and of its modern celebrities Cardinal Baronius is one.
The now ruined abbey church of San Domenico, founded in 1104
on the left bank of the Liri above the town, is believed to occupy
tho site of Cicero's family villa and birthplace. It consisted of a
nave and two aisles, all ending in circular apses.
SORAU, an industrial town and railway junction in
tbe south of Brandenburg, Prussia, is situated 54<miles to
the south-east of Frankfort-on-the-Oder, and not far from
the SUesian border. Said to be one of the oldest towns
in Lower Lusatia, Sorau contains a number of ancient
buildings, among which the most prominent are several
of the churches (one dating from 1204), the town-house,
built in 1260, and the old palace of 1207. The new palace
was erected in 1711. The varied manufactures of the town
comprise cloth, linen, wax candles, starch, bone-meal, &c.
Tho population, 3764 in 1816, was 13,668 in 1885, up-
wards of 12,000 of them being Lutherans.
Sorau is said to have existed in 840 and to have belonged to tho
abbey of Fulda till the 12th century. . It received town-rights in
1260. With tho surrounding district, known as the barony of
Sorau, it became tho seat of successive noble families ; and in 1400
it was united with the barony of Triebel. Tho last count of
Promnitz, whose ancestor had purchased both baronies from
Frederick of Bohemia in 1666, sold them to tho elector of Saxony
for an annuity of 12,000 thalers (£1800). In 1815 Saxony had to
cede them to Prussia, after holding them for fifty years.
SORBONKE, the name formerly borne by tho old
faculty of theology in Paris, and now applied to the seat
of the academie of that city and of the three faculties of
theology, science, and literature. (See France, vol. ix.
p. 513; Paris, vol. xviii. p. 281; and Universities.)
The Sorbonno owes its origin and its name to Robert do
Sorbon, a poor priest of Champagne, who, arriving in Paris
about tho beginning of tho reign of St Louis, attained
iigh repute by his sanctity and eloquence, and was
appointed by the king to be his chaplain. Assisted by
royal liberality, he built upon Mont Sainte-Genevifeve a
modest establishment in which were accommodated seven
priests charged with the duty of teaching theology gratuit.
ously; to this he added a college of preparatory studies, all
under the direction of a provisor, under whom was an annual
prior who had the actual management. The new institm
tion was authorized by letters patent of 1255, and canonic
ally sanctioned by Pope Alexander IV. in 1259. Destined
originally for poor students, the Sorbonne soon became a
meeting-place for all the students of the university of Paris,
who resorted thither to hear the lectures of the mosi
learned theologians of the period, — Guillaume de Saint
Amour, Eudes de Douai, Laurent I'Anglais, Pierre d'Ailly
At the close of the century it was organized into a full
faculty of theology, and under this definitive form it com
ferred bachelor's, licentiate's, and doctor's degrees, and the
severity of its examinations gave an exceptional value to ita
diplomas. The so-called "th^so Sorbonique, " instituted
towards the beginning of the 14th century, became the
type of its order by the length and difficulty of its testSi
Ultimately the professors of the Sorbonno came to be
resorted to, not only for lectures and examinations, but also
for dogmatic decisions and judgments in canon law;- tho
clergy of France and of the whole Catholic world had
recourse to them in difficult cases, and the Curia Romana
itself more than once laid its doubts before them, giving
them the title of " Cortcilium in Gallia subsistens. " Tho
Sorbonne took a leading part in the religious discussions
which agitated France during the 16th and 18th centuries,
and its influence thus inevitably extended to political
questions. Daring the insanity of Charles VI. it helped
to bring about the absolution of Jean Sans-Peur for the
assassination of the duke of Orleans. Shortly afterwards
it demanded and supported the condemnation of Joan of
Arc; during the Reformation it was the animating spirit
of all the persecutions directed against Protestants and
unbelievers : without having advised the massacre of St
Bartholomew, it did not hesitate to justify it, and it in-
flamed the League by its vigorous anathemas against Henry
III. and the king of Navarre, hesitating to recognize the
latter even after his abjuration. From this point dates
the beginning of its decadence, and, when Richelieu in 1629
ordered the reconstruction of its church and buildings, tha
following prophetic couplet was circulated —
Instaurata met jamjam Sorbona. Caduca
Dum fuit, inconcussa stetit ; renovata peribit.
The declaration of the clergy in 1682, which it subscribedV
proved fatal to its authority with the Curia Romana ; it
revived for a short time under Louis XV. during the
struggle against Jansenism, but this was its last exploit ;
it was suppressed like tho old universities. in 1700. To
the Sorbonno belongs the glory of having introduced
printing into France in 1469 : within its precincts it
assigned quarters for Ulric Gering and two cotnpanionB
in which to set up their presses.
When the university of Franco was organized in 1808
the Sorbonne became the seat of the academie of Paris ;
and between 1816 and 1821 the faculties of theology,
science, and literature were installed there with their
libraries. All the great university functions are held
within its great amphitheatre. Since 18C1 there has
annually been held in tho Sorbonne at Easter an official
congress in which are represented the learned societies
of tho departments; there are five sections-— those of
archeology, history, the moral and political sciences, the
physical sciences, geography, — which hold separate sittings^
The fine arts form a sixth section, with a special organ-*
ization.
A reconstruction of tho buildings of the Sorbonno, proj
276
S O R — S 0 S
jected by Napoleon III., was begun in 1884, under the
architectural direction of N6not. The old church con-
taining the tomb of Richelieu is to be retained on account
of its artistic merit.
SOEGHUM. See Mii,let.
SOKIA, a province of Spain, in Old Castile, bounded
on the N. by Logrono, E. by Saragossa, S. by Guadalajara,
and W. by Segovia and Burgos ; the area is 3836 square
miles. It is a bleak and lofty region, being bounded on
three sides by mountains. A range of lovp sierras on the
north, and the great Sierra de Moncayo on the east,
separate the valley of the Duero (Douro) from that of
the Ebro, while on the south it is divided from that of the
Tagus by a continuation of the Sierra Guadarrama. The
whole of the province belongs to the region watered by the
Duero and its affluents. This river rises in the northern
mountains, and traverses the province in a circuitous
course, first to the south and then to the west. The other
rivers are mostly affluents of the Duero, such as the
Tuerto, San Pedro, &e. ; but a few of the tributaries of
the Ebro have their sources within the limits of the
province. The soil is not remarkable for fertility; on the
contrary, a large proportion of the area is occupied with
barren mountains, which are covered with snow for a great
part of the year. .There are, however, in some places
extensive forests of pine, oak, and beech ; while in others
there are large tracts of pasture land, on which numbers
of cattle, sheep, and swine are reared. Grain and veget-
ables are raised, but neither of very good quality nor in
sufficient quantities to supply the wants of the population.
The climate is cold and dry, and the scenery grand, but
not very pleasing in its character. Most of the people are
employed in farming and rearing cattle ; but the cutting
and sawing of timber and the preparation of charcoal also
occupy a considerable number. There is a great want
of roads in this part of the country ; and commerce is
consequently very limited. Fine wool was formerly an
important production of the province ; but of late years it
has considerably fallen off. The only important article
of trade at present is timber, which is sent to Madrid and
Aragon. Soria is divided into five partidos judiciales and
346 ayuntamientos. The population was returned in 1877
as 153,654. There is a bishop (sufi'ragan of Burgos), resi-
dent at Osma. The only town of more than 5000 inhab-
itants is Soria.
SOEIA, the capital of the above province, on a hill on
the right bank of the Duero, 113 miles northeast of
Madrid, is an ancient town, still surrounded by walls
which were built in the 13th century. It contains several
squares, in one of which stand the court-house and prisons
and in another the spacious palace of the dukes of Go-
mara. The churches of Santo Domingo and San Nicolas,
the cloisters of the convent of San Juan, and several other
ecclesiastical buildings are fine specimens of Romanesque
work of the 12th and 13th centuries. The population
is chiefly agricultural; but there -are also flour-miUs,
tanneries, potteries, &c. ; and some trade in timber, wool,
and fruit is carried on. Three and a half miles distant is'
the site of the ancient Numantia. But few traces of the
old city, however, remain. A railway has long been pro-
jected between Soria and Calatayud, upon the Madrid and
Baragossa line. The population in 1877 was 6288.
SORREL. See Hokticulture, vol. xii. p. 288.
SORRENTO, a city of Italy, in the province of Naples,
on the north side of the peninsula that separates the Bay
of Naples from the Bay of Salerno, about 1^ miles to the
east of Capo di Sorrento, crowned by the ruins of a temple
of Neptune. Sorrento contains only a few unimportant
remains of the magnificent buildings which made it in the
iima of Augustus a finer city than Naples ; and its present
prosperity depends mainly on the reputation it enjoys as
a summer watering-place, with a delightful and healthy
climate, and situated amid picturesque coast scenery. The
chief local industry is the inlaying of wood. In ancient
times the Surrentine wines had a great repute. The
population was 4254 in 1861 and 6089 ir 1881.
Surrentum was of very ancient origin, but it does not appear
frequently in history. A famous temple of Minerva stood on the
Promontorium Surrentinum (now Punta della Campanella). In
1558 the corsair Pialy attacked the town and carried off 2000
prisoners. Statius celebrated the delights of the Surrentine villa
owned by his friend Pollius Felix ; it was at Sorrento that
Bernardo Tasso wrote his Amadigi ; and Torquato Tasso was bom
in the town in 1 544.
SOSIGENES, the astronomer who was employed by
Julius Ctesar to reform the Roman calendar, 46 B.C. (see
Calendar). Of his life nothing further is known, with
the exception of two references to him by Pliny, which
show that he left some astronomical treatises. The chief
one is as follows : —
"Tres autem fuer* sectiE, Chaldaea, .Sgyptia, Graeca. His
addidit quartam apud nos Caesar dictator annos ad solis cursum
redigens aingulos, Sosigene perito scientiae ejus adliibito ; eteaipsa
ratio postea cocaperto errore correcta est, ita ut XII. annis con-
tinuis non intercalaretur, quia cceperat sidera annus morari qui
prius antecedebat. Et Sosigenes ipse trinis commentationibus,
quamquam diligentior ceteris, non cessavit tamen addubitare ipso
semet corrigendo." — H. N., xviii. 25.
From another passage (H. N., ii. 8) we infer that
Sosigenes maintained that Mercury moved in an epicycle
about the sun ; this doctrine is referred to by his contem-
porary Cicero, and it was also that of the Egyptians (see
Ptolemy). Sosigenes is commonly called an Egyptian
and a Peripatetic, but this has arisen from his having been
confounded with a Peripatetic philosopher of the same
name who lived in the 2d century of the Christian era, and
who will be briefly noticed below. It is most probable,
however, that he was a Greek of Alexandria, for the follow-
ing reasons. (1) Cffisar had just returned victorious from
his Alexandrian expedition, which occupied parts of the
years 48 and 47 B.C., when, with the assistance of Sosi-
genes, he settled the chronological question. (2) Wo learn
from Plutarch {Cxs., 59) that "Cassar laid the problem
(viz., the correction of the calendar) before the ablest
philosophers and mathematicians," and at that time the
school of Alexandria was world-famous. (3) We know
that Caesar was himself a- diligent student of astronomy..
Lucan, in a passage which refers to his correction of the
calendar, represents him as sa3dng that even in the midst
of his campaigns he had always found time for astrono-
mical pursuits : —
" media inter praelia semper
Stellarum cselique plagis superisque vacavi ;
Nee meus Eudoxi vincetur Fastibus annus." — x. 185-7.
(4) Macrobius says that Cffisar wrote a work on the motion
of the stars, and expressly states, moreover, that he derived
from the Egyptian schools his information on this sub-
ject, and also what he required for the correction of the
calendar.' (5) Csesar's arrangement was substantially the
same as the reform of the Egyptian calendar in the year 238
B.C. under -Ptolemy III. Euergetes, a fact which remained
unknown until the discovery of the Decree of Canopus by
Lepsius at Sanor Tanis in Egypt in the year 1866.
Zeller {Phil. d. Gr., vol. iii. part 1, 2d ed., p. 705-6, note of p.
703, and p. 694, note 3), and after him, but in a more complete
manner, Th. H. Martin (Annales de la Faculte des Lettres de
Bordeaux, 2° fasc., 1879), have shown, jn opposition to the prevail-
ing opinion, which had been formerlyheld by Zeller himself, that
' "Nee minim si hseo digeries morsura reprehensionis evasit, cui
arcessita est ab ^Egypto postremse correctionis auctoritas. Nam Juliux
Caesar, at siderum motus, de quibus non indoctos libros reliquit, ab
jEgyptiis disciplinis hausit, ita hoc quoque ex eadem institntione
mutuatus est, ut ad solis cursum finiendi anni tempus exteuderet —
Sat., i. 16.
S O T — S O U
277
the subject of this article has nothing in common but the name
with Sosigenes the Peripafetio philosopher, 'author of a work on
restituent spheres (SwtrtyeVTjs irepl rwif i,i/fKtTTovaitiv [etpaipuiv]),
which is referred to by Prochis {Uypotyp., p. Ill, cd. Halma) aud
followed by Simplicius in his CommeiUury on the treatise of
Aristotle, De Cmlo, author also of some other works, and master of
Alexander of Aphrodisias, who lived at the end of the 2d and
beginning of the 3d century after Christ, and who was the most
celebrated of the commentators on Aristotle.
SOTO. SeeDE Soto.
SOUBISE, Benjamin de Rohan, Due de (c. 1589-
1641), was the second son of Ren(? II., Vicomte de
Rohan, and Catherine de Parthenay, and the younger
brother of the soldier-writer Henri de Rohan (q.v.).
The seigneury of Soubiso came to the Rohans through
Catherine, and Benjamin took the title as her second son.
The exact date of his birth docs not seem to be knovvB,
but it is believed to be 1589. He served his apprentice-
ship as a soldier under Prince Maurice of Orange in the
Low Countries. But he hardly becomes an historical
character before 1621, when the religious wars once more
broke out in France. He and his brother Rohan were the
soul of the Huguenot party, — the elder brother chiefly
taking command on land and in the south, Soubise in the
west and along the sea-coast. His exploits in the conflict
have been sympathetically related by his brother, who, if
he was not quite an impartial witness, was one of the best
military critics of the time. Soubise's chief performance
was a singularly bold and well-conducted attack (in 1625)
on the royalist fleet in the river Blavet (which included
the cutting of a boom in the face of superior numbers
after a style .suggestive of the best days of the English
navy) and the occupation of Oleron. Soubise commanded
at Rochelle during the famous siege, and if we may believe
his brother the failure of the defence and of the English
attack on Rhd was mainly due to the alternate obstinacy
of the townsfolk and the English commanders in refus-
ing to listen to Soubise's advice. When surrender became
inevitable he fled to England, which he had previously
visited in quest of succour. He died in 1641, and his
title afterwards served as the chief second designation
(not for heirs-apparent, but for the chief collateral branch
for the time being) of the house of Rohan-Chabot, into
which the older Rohan honours were carried by bis niece
Marguerite four years after his death.
SOUBISE, Chaeles de Rohan, Prince de (1715-
1787), peer and marshal of Franco, grandson of the Prin-
cesse de Soubise, who is known to history as one of the
mistresses of Louis XIV., was born in Paris on July 15,
1715. He accompanied Louis XV. in the campaign of
1744-48, and attained high military rank, which he owed
more to his courtiership than to his generalship. Soon
after the beginning of the Seven Years' War, through the
influence of Madame de Pompadour, he was put in com-
mand of a corps of 24,000 men, and on 4th November
1757 ho sustained the crushing defeat of Rossbach (.see
vol ix. pp. 588-591, where also some subsequent and
more favourable episodes of his military career are briefly
indicated). After 1763 he lived the life of an ordinary
cOurtier in Paris, dying on July 4, 1787.
SOUDAN, or SiiDiN (BilAd es-Siiddn, "Country of the
Blacks "), a term applied by mediaeval Arab geographers to
the region of Africa south of the Sahara mainly inhabited
by peoples of Negro blood, hence corresponding to the ex-
pressions Nigritia, Negioland, at one time current amongst
European writers. It lies mainly between 6" and 18° N.
lat., consequently entirely within the tropics, and in its
widest sense stretches right across tho continent from
Cape Verd on the Atlantic to Massowah on the Red Sea.
But the term is more usually restricted to the region
bounded N. by the Sahara, S. by .Upper Guinea and tho
lands draifiing to the Congo basin, W. Rnd E. by Sene-
gambia and the Abyssinian highlands respectively (see
vol. i. plate II.). Within these limits it has an extreme
length of about 3000 miles between the Senegal river and
Abyssinia, extending southwards at some points 660 miles,
with a total area of perhaps 2,000,000 square miles, and
a population approximately estimated at from 80 to 90
millions. From the arid and sandy northern wastes to
the well-watered and arable Soudanese lands the transi-
tion is effected by an intermediate zone -of level grassy
steppes, partly overgrown with mimosas and acacias, with
a mean breadth of about 60 miles, between 17° and 18°
N. lat., but towards the centre reaching as far south as
15° N. Excluding this somewhat uniform transitional
zone, the Soudan, properly so called, may be described as
a moderately elevated region, diversified with extensive
open or rolling plains, level plateaus, and even true high-
lands, especially in the south-west. It constitutes three
distinct hydrographic systems, corresponding to the three
main physical divisions of Western Soudan, draining
through the Niger southwards to the Atlantic ; Central
Soudan, draining to the great central depression and land-
locked basin of Lake Tchad ; and Eastern (Egyptian)
Soudan, draining through the Nile northwards to the
Mediterranean. Between these systems the chief water-
partings are — (1) the Marrah Mountains of Dar-Fur, whence
flow the Bahr es-Saldmdt west to the Shari, and numerous
intermittent wadies east to the Nile ; (2) the Monbuttu
uplands (Mount Baginze), separating the western head-
streams of the White Nile from the Welle (Bahr Kuta),
which, according to the latest information, flows, not to
the Shari as Schweinfurth supposed, but to the Congo
through the Mbangi; (3) the so-called "Kong" Moun-
tains, dividing the Niger basin from the Volta and other
streams flowing in independent channels south to the
Gulf of Guinea. The Adamawa highlands, culminating
in Mount Alantika (9000 to 10,000 feet), do not form a
divide, as was supposed, between the Binue (the main
eastern tributary of the Niger) and the Logon aud other
streams flowing east to the Shari (the great southern afflu-
ent of Lake Tchad). Flegel, who has recently explored the
upper course of the Binue, found that it sweeps right round
the east foot of Mount Alantika, and is even navigable
round this bend and some way southwards. On the other
hand, tho central hydrographic system of Lake Tchad has
been greatly reduced in size since Lupton, Grenfell, and
other recent explorers have made it evident that the Bahr-
Kuta (Welle) flows not to the Shari but to the Congo
basin. The Shari basin, which is now known not to reach
farther south than about 6° N. lat., may even be almost
considered, physically as well as politically, as subsidiary
to the Niger hydrographic system, for there are indications
that the Logon once flowed into tho Binue by the Mayo-
Kebbi. The Mayo-Kebbi is a long flat trough or valley
in 9° 30' N. lat., with a level swamp at tho bottom receiving
as a backwater the overflow of the Logon, and also draining
through the Binue to the Niger. By canalizing the Mayo-
Kebbi the Binue and Shari basins might be permanently
connected, in which case the Niger system would afford
a navigable waterway from the Gulf of Guinea to tho
southernmost limits of Baghirmi.
From the Kong highlands, some of whoso peaks appear
to attain elevations of 6000 to 7000 feet, Western Soudan
falls gradually towards the north and north-east down to
the Great Desert, whore the city of Timbuktu still main-
tains an altitude of 770 feet above sea-level (Lenz). South-
east of tho Niger the land rises in terraces of 1000 and
oven 3000 feet, above which isolated crests range from
6000 to 9000 feet. This little-known western highland
region, comprised between tho Binuo aud the lower Niger,
278
SOUDAN
and extending from Adamawa to the Cameroons on the
[Bight of Biafra, corresponds with the eastern highland
Iregion of Abyssinia,- lying between the Blue Nile and the
Tagazze and dominating the Red Sea. North of Adamawa
the land falls rapidly down to the vast depression of
Central Soudan, whose lowest part is flooded with the
waters of Lake Tchad (Chad or Tsad), the largest area
of inland drainage, next to the Aral-Caspian basin, in
the eastern hemisphere. This freshwater lacustrine de-
pression, usually 10,000 square miles in extent, expands
to 40,000 and even 50,000 square miles when swollen by
the flood-waters of its great feeders, — the Logon-Shari
from the south and the Komadugu from the west. Fiom
the Tchad depression, which is still 1150 feet above the
eea, the ground rises again eastwards in the direction of
Wadai and Dar-Fur, to heights of 3000 feet and upwards,
culminating in the volcanic Jebel Marrah (6000 feet),
which forms the natural eastern limit of Central Soudan,
and the great divide between the Tchad and Nile basins.
But politically the line between Central and Eastern
Soudan is usually drawn more to the west along the con-
ventional frontiers of Wadai and Dar-Fur, the latter pro-
vince, although never completely reduced, being claimed
as part of Egyptian Soudan. This region constitutes two
distinct physical divisions, — the first comprising the pro-
rvinces of Dar-Fur and Kordofan, bounded E. by the White
Tfile and S. by the Bahr el-Arab, a tableland in which the
steppe formation predominates, while the second is skirted
east by the Bahr el-Jebel and stretches from the Bahr
el-Arab southwards to the Monbuttu uplands, a vast plain
Watered by the numerous south-western headstreams of the
|White Nile. This plain rises gradually towards the south
and south-west to the highlands, which appear to culmin-
ate in Mount Baginze, and which form the water-parting
between the Nile and Congo basins. Included in Eastern
Soudan is also the extensive plain of Senaar, stretching
I from the Nile eastwards to the Abyssinian uplands, and
xising southwards to the Fazokl and Berta highlands.
The prevailing geological formations are the crystalline rocks,
Buch as granites, diorites, slates, gneiss, underlying the old and new
alluvia of the plains, and found associated with sandstones in the
highlands. In the Kong Mountains the granites underlie the
sandstones, but in the Tagale group (South Kordofan) they pass
over to porphyries and syenites, interspersed with extensive diorites
and auriferous quartz veins. Volcanic rocks (basalts, lavas, tufas)
appear to be restricted to the isolated Defafaung and Alantika
Mountains (Adamawa), although solfataras occur in the Tagale
district, where sulphur abounds. Mineral waters are also found in
Dar-Fur and Adamawa. The most widely diffused minerals are
iron and copper, the oxides of iron occurring almost everywhere
from the White Nile to the Niger, while pure copper is met espe-
cially in Dar-Fur and Fertit. Gold is chiefly restricted to the
Tagale and Kong Mountains, Bambarra, and Adamawa ; and load,
antimony, and tin are confined to a few isolated districts.
|Characteristic is the apparently total absence of limestones, coal.
Bait, and natron, the supplies of salt being imported mainly from
the Sahara. Report, however, speaks of a large lake in the Jebel
Jtfarrah, from wbich salt is obtained.
The climate of Soudan i? distinctly tropical, with two well-defined
Beasons, hot and rainy from April or May to October, warm and
dry for the rest of the year. The former is accompanied bv
tremendous thunderstorms and continuous downpours flushing all
the khors, wadies, and other watercourses, flooding large tracts
along the lower courses of the Shari, Logon, Komadugu, and Nicer,
and interrupting the communications for weeks together in
Baghirmi and Bornu. Before the rains set in the glass seldom falls
below 98° or 100° F., rising at noon to 104°, while the mean annual
temperature at Kuka (Bornu) is about 82° F. But in the dry season
it is often lowered to 58° or 60°, and under the influence of the cool
north-east winds water often freezes on the uplands, snow falls in
Dar-Fur, and fires are kept up in the houses in the central districts
of Kaiio. The chief ailments are ague and other marsh fevers in the
low-lying tracts subject to inundations, the Guinea-worm, cutaneous
diseases, and leprosy. The fevers are dangerous alike to Europeans
end natives.
An exuberant forest vegetation is favoured by the rich alluvial soil
and tropical heat wherever moisture abounds. Of largo growths the
most characteristic and widesprea.1 are— the baobab {Adansonia),
reaching north to the 13th parallel aud. attaining a girtli of 80
feet ; the superb deleb palm, covering extensive tracts especially iu
the east, where it gi-ows to a height of over 120 feet ; the shea or
butter tree {Bassia lnUyracea), in the Niger basin and Kong uplands;
the cotton-tree, dum palm, tamarind, several varieties of euphorbias,
acacias, and mimosas, the heglyg {Balanites xgyptiaca), and jerjak
of Wadai, which yields a kind of vegetable honey. Owing to tlic
absence of salt the date-palm is very rare. The chief cultivated
plants are cotton, maize, several kinds of durrah {Sorghum vulgarc,
S. cermimn, &c.), hemp, tobacco, gourds, water-melons, indigo (of
excellent qualitj' and growing everywhere, wild and cultivated),
and lastly the guru or kola nut {Stcrcvlia acuminata and S. macro-
carpa), which in Soudan takes the place of the coffee berry. Cotton
of the finest quality has been raised on the rich alluvial plain oi
Taka and Senaar.
The beasts of prey, nowhere very numerous, are chiefly repre-
sented by the lion, panther, hyajna, and jackal. Elephants in
herds.of -100 or 500 frequent the swampy districts about Lake Tchad,'
but are not found farther north than the 12th or. 13th parallehi
The ordinary African rhinoceros is common, and the rare one-'
horned species appears to have been met with iu Wadai. The wild
ass, zebra, girafie, and antelopes in considerable variety abound on
the eastern steppe lands, and endless species of monkeys in the
forest districts. Crocodiles, some of great size, from 16 to 18 feet
long, infest all the largo rivers, the sangwai, — a web-footed variety,
occurring in the Niger. The lii]ipopotanuis also abounds in these
waters, which teem with fish, mostly of unknown species. These
attract numerous flocks of watevfowl,^pelicans, spoonbills, cranes,
ducks, and many unknown species. Iu the Tchad, Fittri, and
other districts the fish are captured, dried, aud exported in large
quantities to Fezzau and the countries beyond the Niger. Flies and
mosquitoes swarm iu the marshy, aud locusts in the dry districts ;
and in the woodlands insect life is lepresented by myriads of ter-
mites and some very large species of bees, wasps, aud ants, besides
beetles and butterflies in cousiderable variety.
The term Bilad es-Sudan is fully justified by the ethnical con-
ditions of this region, which may be regarded as the true home of
the Negro variety of mankind. Here this still everywhere forms the
substratum of the population, constituting the distinct aboriginal
element, in many places exclusively, in others intermingled with
foreign intruders from the north and cast. As far as can now bo
determined, these intruders belong to two separate branches of the
Caucasic stock — the Hamitio and the Semitic. The Hamitic is
represented by three divisions— Fulahs,' Tibus, and Berbers — all
of %vliom arrived in remote prehistoric times ; the Semitic by one
division — the Arabs, who arrived at various periods since the spread
of Islam in North Africa. The bulk of the Arab tribes appear to
have penetrated from the Nile basin through Kordofan to Dar-Fur
and Wadai, or from the Mediteiranean seaboard through Fezzan
and across the Sahara to the Tchad basin, and hence are still mostly
restricted to the central and eastern districts. Owingto their later
appearance and stronger racial sentiment they have kept more
aloof from the surrounding populations than the Hamites, who
have everywhere intermingleci with tlie aboriginal Negro element.
The result is that the present inhabitants of Soudan are of a very
mixed cliaracter, — more or less pure Negro peoples predominating
in the Niger basin, in Adamawa, Baghirmi, AVadai, parts of Dar-
Fur and Kordofan, and in the Nile basin south of 10° north
latitude ; half-caste Negroes and Fulahs especially in Western
Soudan ; half-caste Negroes and Berbers in the .northern districts
of Western and ' Central Soudan ; half-caste Negroes and Tibus
(Dasas) mainly in Kanem and Bornu; true Fulahs scattered in
isolated groups between the Niger and Tchad basins ; true Berbers
(Tuaregs) in the Timbuktu and Moassina districts ; true Arabs
chiefly in Baghirmi, Wadai, Dar-Fur, and Kordofan.
In the subjoined table of the chief Soudanese races the NegroJ
divisions have little more than a linguistic value.
Kegro and Negroid Peoples,
Mandingoes ; Mandinka, Maliuka, and in the east Vangarawa, the doniinant
race between the Joliba {Upper Niger) and Kong Mountains, ulicre their simple
and harroonious speech is everj-wherc current as the chief medium of intercourse ;
fine Negro type, tall, very dark complexion from coffee-brown to black, long
flizzlyand woolly hair; agriculturists and traders; mostly Mohammedans out-
wardly; population six to eight millions. Chief subdivision the Bambarras,
whose capital is Sego on the JoUba; population 2.000,000.
t Most ethnolotcists, adopting Fr. Miiller's general cl-issification. group the
Fulahs witli the Nubians in a separate divisiun (" Nuba-Fulah family "), and
class the Tibus as Negroes. But more recent research has sliown — (1) that the
Fulahs and Nubians differ fundamentally in speech and physique, the formei"
being of Caucasic and the latter of Ncgiotypc(Krause, Kii])ijcl), and (2) that the
true Tibus, the Tedas of Tibesti as distinguislied from the Dasas or soutliein group,
we not Negroes but Hamites, akin to the Tuaregs of the Western Sahara,
although the two languages are totally di^tmct (Nachtigal). The Tibu language
has been described as a Negro form of speech ; but this is also a mistake. It
for:ns an independent linguistic group, the oldest and purest branch of which is
that of the Northern Tedas. From Tibesti it appears to have spread southwards
to Kanein and Bornu, where the Dasa, Kanuii, and other dialects have teen
e-iposed to Negro influences. Had Tibu been originally a Negro language, its
most primitive form would he found, not in Tibesti, but in Saudan. and Its pro-
gress would have been thence northwards, not from the Sahara southwards.
s o u — s o u
279
ticnrhai or Soaghai : An hlslorical race whose empire rtri'tchcd In (bo ICth
•cniury from the northern bend of the NiRcr to the Atlantic and Morocco;
Bj>ccch of a rannojjllabic type, still current in tho Timbuktu tUstrlct and oaaoa
al Western Sahara ; population 2,000,000.
Tombo, ilosso. Omnia: Throe Ijrilo known ICcgro pcoplea west of the MRcr,
iwltbia the great bend; affinities uncertain ; form semi-Independent petty states,
apparently tributaiy to Moassina and G;indo.
Aiipe or Xu/t : Large NeRi o nation along both »lde» of tho Kiger from Rabba
to llio Binue contlucnec, subject to Gondo.
Yoruba: Powerful Negro peojile between lower Niger and Dahomey; capital
Dosin ; lloliammedans. pagans, and Christians (Protestant).
Balla: The chief XcRro people in Adamawa, now subject to the Fulahs;
pagans and Mohammedans.
JIaxusa : Largest, most widespread, and intelligent of all the Sonanesc Negro
peoples, mainly between the Kiger and llonio ; speech very musical, the chief
<nmmerclal medium In Western and Central iioudau, and cuirent in paita of
Tiipolitana; shows distinct traces of Hainitic Influences (Krause); mostly
Mohammedahs.
ilaigu or Masa : Widespread Negro family between Lake Tchad and Adamawa
and stretching east to tiie Shari ; ctiief subdivisions— Mandnra, Margi, Logon,
Gamorgu, Margonil, Keriblna; mostly pagans and uncultured.
i'edina. (Burfuma) and Kuri: I'redatory Negro Irilics in the Islands of Lake
Tchad; appearto be related to the Kolokcs or Mekari of Logon and Bornu ; nominal
Mohammedans; population 30,000.
Batjhirmi : The domin.int people In BaghlrmI ; cultured Mohammedans; ymy
industrious and skilled weavers and dyers; populatiim over a million.
Jtaba: Tho chief Negio nation In Wadai, mainly in the Wara and Abeshr
districts, about the heatistrcams of the Baiha
rUr or For : The dominant race in Dar-Fur, which takes Its natne from them ;
akin to the Nubas; chief subdivision Kunjara.
Ifubat : Large Negro nation ; Jebel Nuba, and other parts oMCordofan, the orig-
inal stock of the Nile Nubians; chief subdivlbions— Kargo, Kulfan, Kolajl, Tumuli.
miolic Negroes : Shilluks. Pinkas, Bongos, Saris. A-Madl (Mcttu), and many
others about the Bahr cl-.)eb '. and south-western tributaries of fhe White Kile.
Funj: A very mixed Negroid race, Senaaf.
Hami'es—Pure and Mixed.
Tuaregt : A main branch of the Berber race, dominant throughout the Western
Sahara and southern steppes ; powerful, especially in the Timbuktu district and
on the north frontier of Bornu. ^,
Sorinka or Assuanck : Called also Serekuli or Serrakolet, i.e., " white people ;
?ielf-ca8t« Tuareg and Negro nation scattered in small communities from the
jSiger to the Atlantic, and numerous especiaUy In Senegambia and Uoassina;
caltured Mohammedans, and active traders.
Fulahs : The most powerful, intelligent, and widespread of all the Soudanese
peoples ; from their original home in Senegambia (Futa-Toro, Futa-Jallo) have
spread since the 18th century tliroughout Western and Ccntial Soudan, and as far
east a« Dar-Fur, everywhere propagating Islam, overthrowing the native Houssa
and other states, and founding new kingdoms in the Niger biLsin, in Adamawa,
and Central Soudan ; arc called Fellani by the Houssas, Fuliiu by the Arabs,
Fell^ta by the Kaiiurl, the term meaning "fair" or "light , coloured "; pure type,
distinctly Cancasic, regular features, long black hair, thrown or ruddy complexion,
slim well-propoi-tioned tiguies; but the language, which presents several remark-
able featui'cs, fchows only faint traces of Berber influence, and appears on the
whole to be essentially a Negro form of speech, adopted probably during residence
from the remotest tunes in Negroland ; population seven to eight millions.
Vasal : The snulhern branch of the Tibus, cliieHy in Kanem and northern
Bomu; type ailil speech show distinct Negro influences.
Kanembu : The people of Kanem, with settlements In eastern Bomu ; also
originally Tibus, but betraying still more decided Negro Influence.
Kanuri : The ruling i-aco in Bornu ; speech a development of the Dasa and
Kanem ; type half-caste Tibu and Negio.
ZoghAwa, Baele, Ennedi: Mixed Tibu and Negro tribes; northern Dar-Ftir, origin-
ally from Borku and Wanganya, Fastem Sahara ; speech akin to Daso.
Semites.
Auldd Soleimdn Arabs : In Kanem. <
Auidd Rashid, Mahdmid: South-east of Borku, and In Dar-Fur.
Saldmdt, Auldd Hamed: Between the lower Shari and Bahr el-Ghaz^l.
IJamr, llamran : Kordofan;
Eababish ; "Goatherds;" widespread along west side Nile, from Kordofan to
Dongola.
Baikdra : "Cowherds; " south of tlie Kababish to left bank of Bahr el-Arab.
Politically Western and Central Soudan are divided into eight
iudependcnt and semi-independent states, \*hich in tlieir order
from west to east are as under : —
Bamharra, divided into two nearly equal sections oy the Joliba,
which traverses it from south-west to north-east, is ruled by tho
Negro BamliaiTas of Wandiogo stock. It has recently been brought
under the influence of the French penetrating eastwards from their
possessions on the Senegal. The capital is Sego, on the right bank
of the Joliba.
Moassina, Oando, SoTcoto, Adamawa, the four so-called "Fulah
States," occupy the Kiger basin between Eambarra and the
Binue confluence, the wliole of the Binue basin, and tho region
lying between tho Ni"er and Bornu. Moas.nna (Mnssina) lies .on
both banka of the Niger from Eambarra to Kabara, the port of
Timbuktu, audis peopled by Fulahs, Bambanas, and Sourhais ;
capital Hamda-Alaui, on tlie right bank of the Niger, below Jcniie,
which ia its chief trading place. Timbuktu, with surrounding
rlistrict constitutes a separate territory governed by a kadia, or
hereditary mayor, who lately sent an envoy to Paris for tho purpose
of seeking French protection against tho rival Tuareg ana Fulah
tribes. Oando, so called from its capital on an ca.stein triliutary
of the Niger, stretches along the main stream southwards to the
Binne confluence, including the Nnfo territory and part of Yoruba.
The lower part ia extremely fertile, abounding in cotton, indigo,
rice, and all varieties of African grains. It conies within the
limits of the region over which tho liritish protectorate has recently
been extended. Besides the capital, there are several large towns,
•nch aa Bida (30,000 to 60,000 inhabitants) in the north ; Rabba
(40,000 to 60,000), head of Llie steam navigation on the Niger, and
It chief station on the great trade route running from Lagos on tho
Guinea Coast'northwards to Gando and Sokoto ; Egga (8000), on
the left bank of the Niger, centre of the British trade ; Lokoja,
facing*the Binue confluence, an English factory, headquarters of an
Anglican mission and seat of a Negro bishop. SoI:olo, sometimes
spoken of as the " empire of Sokoto," is the largest and most power-
ful of al,l the Soudanese states, stretching from Gando to Bornu,
ami from the Binue northwards to the Sahara (see Sokoto). In it
are absorbed all the former " Haussa States," and to it Adamawa is
also tributary. The inhabitants are chiefly Fulahs and Haussas,
intermixed with many aboriginal Negro peoples, especially in the
south and south-east. Tho land is generally fertile, yielding rich
crops of cereals, cotton, tobacco, indigo, sugar, yams, black pepper,
ginger, melons. The capital and residence of the sultan is Sokoto,
in the extreme north-west. Other large towns are — Katsena, before
the Fulah invasion a place of 100,000 inhabitants, now reduced
to 7000; Kano, in Earth's time the "London of Soudan," and still
with 50,000 souls (Matteucci) ; Wurnu (15,000) ; Gombe, in the
])rovince of Calam (20,000) ; Yakoba, or Garu n-Bauchi (150;000) ;
Keffi Abd es-Senga (30,000), in Zegzeg, a gieat centre of the' ivory
trade, and converging point of the two great caravan routes from
the north (Kano) and the west (Egga). Adamawa, so named from
its Fulah conqueror Adama, and formerly known as Fuiiibina, or
"Southland," is ruled by a Fulah vassal of Sokoto, who keeps in
subjection the Battas and innumerable other Negro peoples; it lies
between Sokoto, Bornu, and Baghirmi, merging southwards in the
unexplored equatorial region back of the Cameroons. The capital is
Yola, at the northern foot of Mount Alantika. Adamawa appears
to be one of the finest and healthiest regions in Africa, splendidly
diversified with lofty highlands, fertile valleys, and grassy plains,
overgro\vn in some places with forests of bananas, baobabs, and
plantains, in others yielding abundant harvests of cereals, cotton,
and indira. The horses and cattle introduced by the Fulahs thrive
well on the rich pastures, and elephants abound in the woodlands.
Bornu, with Kanem, in the north, now reduced, and the tributary
state oi Logon in the south, completely encircles Lake Tchad, except
at the south-east comer, where Baghirmi is wedged in between
Logon and Wadai ; it is mostly a flat low-lying region with fertile
plains yielding durrah, maize, cotton, and indigo, watered by
the Komadugu, Logon, and Shari, all of which flood their banks
for miles during the rainy season. The ruling race are the
Kanuri, cultured but fanatical Mohammedans of mixed Tibu and
Negro stock. The capital of Bornu is Kuka (50,000 to 60,000 in-
habitants), near the west coast of Lake Tchad, a gi-eat centre of the
Soudanese trade with the Sahara and Tripolitaua, and terminus- of
the main caravan route from Jlurzuk (Fczzan) across the desert to
the Tchad basin ; the capital of Logon is Logon-birni, residence of a
vassal prince. Population of Bornu estimated at 5,000,000.
Baghirmi, a Negro state, since 1871 tributary to Wadai, comprises
the rich and well-watered plains of the lower Shari, with undefined
southern limits. Capital Masena ; population about 1,600,000, of
whom three-fourths Baghirmi, the . jst Kotokos, Fulahs, and Arabs.
IVadai, a powerful ilohammedau state occupying the whole
region between Baghirmi and Kanem in the west and Dar-Fur
in the east, and claiming exclusive ivory and slave-hunting rights
in the southern (upper) Shari basin. Tho capital is Abeshr, on a
hciid-streara of the Batha. The country is mainly a hilly plateau
rising to SOOO feet above the sea, and yielding good crops of^maize,
dukhn, durrah, cotton, indigo. Population four to six millions,
chiefly Mabas and other Negroes, and numerous Arab tribes, with
some scattered Baghirmi, Fulah, and Kanuri settlements.
Eastern Soudan, comprising Dar-Fur, Kordofan, Senaar, Taka,
and the Negro coimtries on the White Nile and its south-western
tributaries, respectively called the Equatorial and Bahr-Gazal Pro-
vinces, belorged politically to Egypt till the rebellion of tho late
Mahdi. Since his death in 1885 most of these provinces appear to
have lapsed into a state of anarchy and barbarism, in which few
vestiges remain of the peace and order introduced by the European
officers of the khedive. The Equatorial Province, however, and the
Suakin district have been exempt from these troubles, — the former
being still held till 1886 by the governor, Emin Boy, for tho
khedive, while in the latter the natives themselves succeeded in the
same year in putting down the "rebels" or part)' of Osman Digms.
For (letails of Eastern Soudan, see articles Nile, NuniA, and
Senaar. (A. H. K.)
SOULT, Nicolas Jean de Dreir, duke of Dalmatia
anti marshal of Franco (1769-1 8.')1), was born at Saint-
Amans-la-Bastide (now in department of tlio Tarn), on
March 29, 1769, and wa.s the elder .<!on of a country notary
at that place. Ho was fairly well educated, and intended
for tho bar, but his father's death when he wa.s stiJl a boy
made it necessary for liim to seek his fortune, and be
enlisted as a private in the regiment of royal infantry in
1785. His superior education ensured his promotion to
tho rank of sergeant after six years' service, and in Jn)y
280
SOU-SOU
1791 he became instructor to the first battalion of volunteers
of the Bas-Rhin. He served with his battalion in J792,
and rapidly rose to the position of adjutant-general, colonel,
and chief of the staff to General Lefebvre. Soult it was
who practically directed the operations of Lefebvre's divi-
sion in 1794, and after the battle of Fleorus he was pro-
moted general of brigade by the representatives on mission.
For the next five years he was constantly employed in
Germany under Jourdan, Jloreau, Kleber, and Lefebvre.
The attack of the French left at the battle of Altenkirchen,
which won the day, was directed by Soult, and in 1799 he
was promoted general of division and ordered to proceed
to Switzerland. It was at this time that he laid the
foundations of his military fame, and he particularly dis-
tinguished himself in Mass^na's great Swiss campaign,
and especially at the battle of Zurich. He accompanied
Massena to Genoa, and acted as his principal lieutenant
throughout the protracted siege of that city, during which
he operated with a detached force without the walls, and
after many successful actions he was wounded and taken
prisoner at Monte Cretto on 13th April 1800. The victory
of Marengo restoring his freedom, he received the command
of the southern part of the kingdom of Naples, and in 1802
he was appointed one of the four generals commanding the
guard of the consuls. Though he was one of those generals
who had served under Jloreau, and who therefore, as a rule,
disliked and despised Napoleon, Soult had the wisdom to
show his devotion to the ruling power ; in consequence he
was in August 1803 appointed to the command in chief
of the camp of Boulogne, and in May 1804 he was made
one of the first marshals of France. When Napoleon
decided to lead the troops of the camp of Boulogne into
Germany, Soult took the command of the right wing, and
it was by his capture of the heights of Pratzen that the
great battle of Austerlitz was decided. He played a great
part in all the famous battles of the grand army, except
the battle of Friedland, and after the conclusion of the
peace of Tilsit he returned to France and was created
duke of Dalmatia. In the following year he was appointed
to the command of the 2d corps of the army with which
Napoleon intended to conquer Spain, and after winning the
battle of Gamonal he was detailed by the emperor to pursue
Sir John Moore, whom he only caught up at Coruna.
For the next four years Soult remained in Spain, but it
is impossible to do more than allude to his most important
feats of arms. In 1809, after his defeat by Sir John Moore,
he invaded Portugal and took Oporto, but, deluded by the
idea of becoming king of Portugal, he neglected to advance
upon Lisbon, and was eventually dislodged from Oporto
by Sir Arthur Wellesley. After the battle of Talavera he
was made major-general of French troops in Spain, and on
12th November 1809 won the great victory of Ocaua. In
1810 he invaded Andalusia, which he speedily reduced,
with the exception of Cadiz. In 1811 he marched north
into Estremadura, and took Badajoz, and when the Anglo-
Portuguese army laid siege to it he marcihed to its rescue,
and fought the famous battle of Albuera (16th May). In
1812, however, he was obliged, after Vv'ellington's great
victory of Salamanca, to evacuate Andalusia, and was soon
after recalled from Spain at the rec[nest of Joseph
Bonaparte, with whom he had always disagreed. In March
1813 he assumed the command of the 4th corps of the
grand army and commanded the centre at Liitzea and
Bautzen, but he was soon sent, with unlimited powers,
to the south of France to try and repair the damages done
by the great defeat of Vittoria. His campaign there is
the finest proof of his genius as a general, although he was
repeatedly defeated by the English under Wellington, for
his soldiers were but raw conscripts, while those of
Wellington were the veterans of many campaigns,
Such was the military career of Marshal Soult. His
political career was by no means so creditable. After the
first abdication of Napoleon he declared himself a royalist,
received the order of St Louis, and acted as minister for
war from 3d December 1814to 11th March 1815. When
Napoleon returned from Elba Soult at once declared him-
self a Bonapartist, and acted as major-general to the
emperor in the campaign of Waterloo. For this conduct
he was exiled, but not for long, for in 1819 he was recalled
and in 1820 again made a marshal of France. He once
more tried to show himself a fervent royalist and was made
a peer in 1827. After the revolution of 1830 he made out
that he was a partisan of Louis .Philippe and constitutional
royalty, and served as minister for war from 1830 to 1834,
as ambassador extraordinary to London for the coronation
of Queen Victoria in 1838, and again as minister for war
from 1840 to 1844. In 1848, when Louis Philippe was
overthrown, Soult again declared himself a republican.
He died at his castle of Soultberg near his birthplace
in 1851.
SOUND. See Acoustics.
SOUNDING to ascertain the depth of the sea has been
practised from very early times for purposes of navigation,
but it is only since the introduction of submarbe tele-
graphy that extensive efforts have been made to obtain
a complete knowledge of the contour of the ocean-bed.
As early as the middle of last century a few deep soundings
were recorded in various parts of the world : Ellis made
one in 1749 of 891 fathoms off the north-west coast of
Africa. But these early results must be accepted only with
great caution, for the methods then in use were not such
as to ensure accuracy at any depth greater than a few
hundred fathoms. Sir John Ross, the arctic explorer, was
much in advance of his times as regarded such investiga-
tions ; he invented a " deep-sea clamm " for bringing up
a portion of the bottom, and on September 1, 1819, in
Possession Bay, made a successful sounding at a depth of
1000 fathoms, which is especially memorable because it
was clear, from the organisms which came up entangled in
the line, that animal life existed at that depth.
The operation of sounding is readily performed in
shallow water by Jetting down a weight attached to a
cord, which is marked off into fathoms by worsted
tucked under the strands, the tens and hundreds being
indicated by different colours. The bottom of the weight
usually presents a hollow, which is filled with tallow,
so that a portion of the material from the bottom may be
brought up and give an indication of its nature. Some-
times a valved cavity is used instead of the tallow. It
is easy to see that the longer the line let out the greater
will be its friction in passing through the water, the
more Slowly the weight will descend, and the slighter will
be the shock transmitted to the upper extremity when it
reaches the bottom ; indeed, at what are now considered
very moderate depths this becomes quite imperceptible :
hence in deep-sea sounding the line is carefully watched
as it runs out, and the time each 100-fathom mark enters
the water is noted down. Owing to the increasing friction
these intervals gradually lengthen, but any sudden incre-
ment indicates that the bottom has been reached, for it
shows that the weight has ceased to act, and that further
descent of the line is due merely to its own gravitation.
For instance, in one of the " Challenger " soundings, with
a line 1 inch in circumference, and with a weight of 4
cwts. attached, the time occupied in descending from 2900
to 3000 fathoms was 2 m. 10 s.; from 3000 to 3100
fathoms 2 m. 13 s., and from 3100 to 3200 fathoms 3 m.
14s., this sudden increase showing that the bottom had
been reached in the interval.
Furthermore, the weight required to sink a line in deep
S O U — s o u
281
water with sufficient rapidity for purposes of accurate ob-
servation is so great that it is found impracticable to bring
it up again without putting an undue
strain upon the rope or seriously pro-
longing the operation. Hence in 1854
Brooke, an American, devised an ap-
paratus by which the weight was de-
tached when it reached
the bottom and only a
small tube containing a
sample of the bottom
was brought up. , This
was in fact a modifica-
tion of an apparatus
which had been devised
by Hooke in the 17th
cenfcury ; he made an
arrangement in which a
light sphere was sunk
by a heavy weight, but
was liberated on reach-
ing th6 bottom, — the
depth being then de-
duced from the time
which elapsed between
the sinking of the globe
and its reappearance at
the surface. Of the
various modifications of
Brooke's sounding ma-
chine, perhaps the most
famous is that con-
structed by the black-
sajithof H.M.S. "Hy-
dra," and commonly
known as the "Hydra
sounding rod.'' It was
used on the cruises of
the "Lightning" and
" Porcupine " and dur-
ing the ■ earlier part of
the " Challenger" expe- ^'S- ^- F'g-2-
di6ion.- This apparatus is shown in fijg. 1, where AB is
the rod, terminating in a tube below so that it may bring
up a sample of the
bottom ; the weights F
fit loosely round it and
are supported by the
wire E which passes
over the stud D, where
a spring presses against
it, the strength of which
is so adjusted that it is
unable to displace the
wire as long as the
strain of the weights
Fig. 3. Jig. .1. Fig. 6.
is upon it, but so soon as this is relieved by their rest
ing on the bottom the wire is thrust off the stud, and
22 1 2*
when the line is hauled in the weights and wire are left
behind.
An improved apparatus has recently been invented by
Mr J. Y. Buchanan, and used by him on board the tele-
graph ships " Dacia " and " Buccaneer," which can be used
either in shallow or deep water, and has the advantage of
bringing up samples both of the water and of the mud
from the bottom. It consists of a hollow cylinder A, fig.
2, at the top and bottom of which are india-rubber valves
H, K, opening upwards, so that water passes freely through
them during the descent but is retained as soon as a plug
of mud occupies the tube B. The weight EE which sur-
rounds the cylinder is supported by a wire F passing over
a peculiar hook D, shown separately in figs. 3, 4, 5 ; when
sounding in shallow water it is not necessary to detach the
weight, and the wire is therefore placed aa in fig. 3 ; when
working at greater depths the wire rests on the other side
of the hook, as in fig. 4, — the result being that on the
bottom being reached it falls into the upper part of the
notch, fig. 5, and continues to press the tube into the mud,
but when hauling up commences the wire slips out alto-
gether and the weight is left at the bottom. A valve
L, M, N is sometimes used to retain the sample of the
bottom.
At the present time deep-sea sounding is extensively practised
for telegraphic purposes, and is almost entirely conducted by
means of wire instead of rope, a method introduced by Sir William
Thomson. The friction of the wire in passing through the water
is of course very much less than that of rope, and hence it runs
out and can be hauled in much more rapidly ; a smaller sinlccr
may be used, and in very many instances, it can be recovered. It
is customary in sounding for cables 'to make very frequent obser-
vations (once in from 1 to 50 miles), for it is found that the laying
can be accomplished with much less risk of accident if the contour
of the ocean-bed be accurately known. The saving of time by the
use of wire is very considerable; but the advantage is not so
obvious in running out as in hauling in, because a heavier weight
is used to increase the Tsie, this of course involving a loss of iron
sinkers. For instance, an apparatus similar to that mentioned
above as being used by the "Challenger" took on an average 24
m. 22 s. to sink 2000 fathoms, whilst in a recent sounding by the
"Albatross" the weight ran out 2000 fathoms in 20 m."^30 s. and
was hauled in in 21 m. 9 s., — a rate which would have been quite
unattainable by the aid of roj)c. The saving in the matter of
sinkers is by no means inconsiderable; instead of 3 or 4 cwta.,
only 50 to 60*^16 are used, and Sigsbee has calculated that this
difference is sufficient to pay for any extra loss there may be by
the breaking of the wire. Captain Magnaghi of the Italian navy
and Captains Sigsbee and Belknap of the American Survey have
successfully developed the method bf sounding with wire, and
owing to its use the last-mentioned officer was able to survey the
route from San Francisco to Japan, doivg all his sounding by
hand, which would have been quite impossible had hempen ropo
been used. When soundings are made for scientific purposes it is
customary to ascertain the temperature, both at the bottom and
at intermediate depths, by a thermometer of special construction.
For further information, see Sir Wyvlllo Tliomson, The Depllis of (he Sea
(London, 1374); Narrative of the Cruise of I/.A/.S. " Challenr/er" (London,
1«86); SlRsbec, Detp-Sta Sounding and Dredging (Washington, 1S80); Wlllo,
Normgian North Atlantic Expedition, pt. Iv., "Apr«ralus and how used,"
1876-78; Mill, 77i« Scottish Marine Slalion (KdlnbuiRh, 18851; ond, for an
improved apparatus used on board tho "Talisman," La Nature, Xli. p. 120, 1884 ;
also the annual lieporti of the U.S. Fish Commission. (W. E. HO.)
SOUTH, Robert (1633-1716), one of the wittiest of
English divines, was the son of a London merchant, and
was born at Hackney, Middlesex, in 1633. Ho was
educated at Westminster school, whence in 1651 he was
elected to Christ Church, Oxford. He became B.A. in
165-1, and the same year wrote several Latin verses to
congratulate Cromwell on concludirig peace with the
Dutch, which were published in a collection of university
poems. The following year he published a Latin poem,
entitled Mvska Incantans. After commencing M.A. in
1G57 he was in the habit before obtaining orders in 1668
of preaching as the champion of Calvinism against
ijocinianism and Arminianism. Ho was also at this time
a strong supporter of Presbyterianisin, but on the approach
of the ilestoration Ms views on church government underi
282
SO i; — S O IT
weut a change. In fact be adlisred successively to the
triumpliant party as represented by Cromwell, Charles,
James, and William, and there are substantial grounds for
the assertion of Anthony Wood that he was much indebted
for his preferments to his zeai for "the powers that be."
On 10th August 1660 he was chosen public orator of the
university, and in 1661 domestic chaplain to Lord
Clarendon. Jn March 1663 he was made prebend of
Westminster, and shortly afterwards he received from his
university the degree of D.D. In 1667 he became
chaplain to the duke of York. He was a zealous advocate
of the doctrine of passive obedience, and also strongly
opposed the Toleration Act, declaiming in unmeasured
terms against the various nonconformist sects. In 1676
he was appointed chaplain to Lawrence Hyde (afterwards
earl of Rochester), ambassador-extraordinary to the king
of Poland, and of his visit he sent an interesting account
to Dr Edward Pocock in a letter, dated Dantzic, 16th
December 1677, which was printed along with South's
Poslhumous Works in 1717. In 1678 he was promoted
by the chapter of Westminster to the rectory of Islip,
Oxfordshire. Owing, it is said, to a personal grudge,
South in 169.3 published Animadversions on Dr Sherlock's
Book; entitled a Vindication of ilie Holy and Ever Blessed-
Trinity, in which the views of Sherlock were attacked
with much sarcastic bitterness. Sherlock, in answer,
published a Defence in 1694, to which South replied in
Tntheism Charged -upon Dr Sherlock's Neio Notion of the
Trinity, and the Cluxrge Made Good. The controversy was
carried by the rival parties into the pulpit, and occasioned
such keen feeling that thu king interposed to stop it.
Durtng the greater part of the reign of Anne South re-
mained comparatively quiet, but in 1710 he showed himself
a keen opponent of Sacheverell. He die4 8th July 1716,
and was buried in Westminster Abbey.
The btyle of South is vigorous, pungent, and brilliant, though
tending to exuberance. His sermons are strongly practical, but
his tlioory of life is not ascetic. His wit generally inclines towards
Baixasni, and it \v;cs probably the knowledge of his quartelsomo
temperament that prevented his promotion to a. bishopric. If lio
sacrificed principle to his desire for prefeimeut, his ambition was
not of a sordid kind, for he was noted for the extent of his chnrities.
He published a large number of siuglo sermons, aud they appeared
in a collected form hi 1692 in six volumes, readiing a second
edition in his lifetime in 1715. His Opera Post/aiiaa Latina,
including his will, his Latin poems, and his orations while public
orator, with memoirs of l.is life, appeared iu 1717. His Works
were published with a memoir by the Clarendon press in 182'!,
and have been several times reprinted. The contemporary notice
of South by Wood in his Athenm is characterized by a strongly
hostile tone, partly to be explained by a criticism of SoiiUi at
Wood's expense.
SOUTH AFRICAN REPUBLIC. See Transvaal.
SOUTHAMPTON, a municipal and parliamentary
borough,, which gives name to Hampshire, or the county
of Southampton, and one of the principal seaports on the
south coast of England, is beautifully situated at the head
of Southampton Water, forming the mouth of the Test, on
a sloping peninsula, bounded on the east by the Itchen,
at the terminus of the South-Western Railway, 79 miles
south-west of London, 13 south-south-west of Winchester,
and 24 west-north-west of Portsmouth. Southampton is
also a county of itself, — the county of the town of
Southampton. It preserves much of its antique ap-
pearance, but, although in the older parts the streets if
picturesque are narrow and irregular, it may still claim the
distinction it enjoyed in Leland'ri time of ranking •' as one
of the fairest that is in England," bandsome and spacious
shops lining the principal streets, while the suburbs are
studded with numerous villas and mansions embosomed
in woods. There are still considerable remains of the old
town walls built in the time of Richard II., the most
remarkable being a portion of the west walls, with an
arcade on its exterior, facoi "t^our of the seven gotc« arS
comparativel)' well preserved — North or Bar Gace, bcuth^
Castle Gate, Westgate, and Blue Anchor Gate. The
finest of these is Bargate, in a room above which is the
ancient Guildhall, where the quarter sessions aro held.
The representations of Sir Bevis of Hampton and the
giant Ascupart which formerly stood on each side have
recently been obliterated. The castle, originally a Saxoiij
fortress, and rebuilt when the walls were erected, wad
partly demolished iu 1650. After its rebuilding had bc"u
begun by the marquis of Lansdowue in 1805, it was sold,
and in 1818 the site was parcelled out for building plots.
In the vicinity of the castle there are some houses of very
ancient date, including King's House (Early Norman).
The two old churches, St Michael's (originally Norman
about the date of 1080) and Holyrood, have been in a
■great degree modernized ; the former contains a beoiutifu!
Byzantine font and a monument to Sir R. Lyster, chief-
juotico in the 16th century The French chapel of St
Julien, originally attached to the hospital of God's House,
founded by Henry YIII. ffir eight poor persons, is ot
Norman architecture ;' it contains the burial-place of tbo
Snl^ gf »i « JTi*
Plan of Southampton.
earl of Cambridge, Lord Scrope, 9nd Sir Thomas^ Grey.A
who in 1415 were executed outside the Bargate for con-|
spiring against Henry V. Among the modern public
buildings aro the AVatts memorial hall, erected in 1876 at
a cost of £8000, the municipal office, occupying the old
audit-house, the custom-house, the philharmonic hall, the
aosemlily room.s, the county court-house, the corn exchange
and chambei- of commerce, and two theatres. The educa-
tional institutions include the Hartley Institution, founded
by bequest for the advancement of natural history, astro-
nomy, antiquities, and classical and Oriental literature, and
now embracing a library, reading-room, museum, art gallery,
laboratories, and schools of science and art associatic^
with South KensingvOn ; the Edward VI. grammar kchoo^'
VOL xxn.
SOUTH AUSTRAI.IA
PLATEIV
o
S 0 u - s o u
283
Toucdea in 1550, and reorganized in 1875; and Alderman
Taonton's school, founded in 1752, and lately remodelled.
The school board was established in 1871. The benevolent
and charitable institutions are numerous, embracing the
dispensary (1&09), the royal South Hants infirmary
(1838), the female orphan asylum, the homoeopathic dis-
pensary (1873), St Mary's cottage hospital (1873), and the
Palk memDrial home (1876). "To the north of the town
is Southampton Common, formerly part of the manor of
Shirley ; and adjoining the town to the north of Above Bar
Street i? the Public Park, prettily laid out and containing
statues of Lord Palmerston, Ur Watts, and Mayor Andrews.
The town is supplied with water partly from artesian wells
and partly from reservoirs. The popxJation of the muni-
cipal borough (area 2004 acres) in 1871 was 53,74:1, and
in 1881 it was 60,051. In 1885 the tirea of the parlia-
mentary borough, formerly coextensive with that of the
municipal borough, was extended to include the parish of
Millbrook, the ecclesiastical district of the Holy Saviour,
Bitterne, the parish of St :Mary Extra, and the detached
portion of -Hound included within St Mary Extra. The
population of this area in 1881 was 84,384. It is repre-
sented by two members.
The importance of tite port dates from the Norman Conquest,
and was originally due to its relation to Winchester. It had a con-
siderable trade in wine as early as 1152, aiid from Queen Mary it
obtained a monopoly in the importation of sweet wines from the
Grecian islands. With Venice and Italy it had a large trade as
early as the 14th century, and in the subsequent century it had a
connexion with Newfoundland, while its Channel trade and its
shipbuilding were also of importance. About the end of the 16th
century its trade had, however, begun to decline, and the visitation
of the plague in 1665 tended still further to aid its retrogression.
Some improvement took place in its prospects by the creation of a
Pier and Harbour Commission in 1803, and the erection of the
Royal Victoria pier in 1831 w,i3 a further step towards prosperit)',
but its modern trade really dates from the opening up of railway
communication with London in 1840. It possesses one of the finest
natural harbours and has the advantage of a double tide, a second
high tide occurring two hours after the first. While largely
dependent for its import trade on its connexion with London and
its easy communication with France, it has become an outlet for
the manufactures of the midland and northern towns. Its great
tidal dock, completed in 1842 at a cost of £140,000, has an area of
16 acres with a depth of 18 feet at low water, and the inner dock,
completed in 1851, an area of 10 acres and a depth of 28 feet.
Two other docks embracing an area of 50 acres are being con-
structed. There are also four dry docks, capable of receiving
vessels of the largest tonnage at aU tides. Within recent years
the'port has lost the overland trade between London and 'India by
the removal to London of the headquarters of the Peninsular and
Oriental Steam Navigation Company. At present it is the head-
quarters of the Royal Mail Steam Packet Company for the West
Indies and the Pacific {via Panama) and for Brazil and the River
Plate, the Union Line for the Cape of Good Hope, Natal, and East
Africa, and the London and South Western Railway Company's
steamers to the French coast. Steamers also sail regularly for Ireland
and various ports on the west coast of England t and the steamers of
the North German Lloyd Company touch at the port on the way to
and from New York, and also to and from Asiatic and Australian
ports. The total number of vessels that entered the port in 1876
was 7840 of 1,201,301 tons, of which 3780 with a tonnage of 201,434
were sailing vessels, and 4060 with a tonnage of 999,867 were
ateamers. 'The number that cleared in the same year was 8047 of
1,174,365 tons, of \jhich 3994 (196,064 tons) were sailing vessels,
and 4053 (978,301 tons) were steamers. In 1885 the number of
vessels that entered the port was 9768 of 1,539,357 tons, of which
S456 (175,900 tons) were sailing vessels,' and 6312 (1,363,457
tons) were Steamers. The number that cleared in the same year
was 9641 of 1,523,759 tons, of which 3350 (182,688 tons) w«re
Bailing vessels, and 6291 (1,341,071 tons) were steamers. Sinco
1845 the trade has increased more than tenfold, although within
recent years the port has suffered from the" prevailing dulncss.
The total value of imports and exports in 1846 was £1,475,000 ; in
1880 the value of the imports was £9,205,183 and in 1884 it. was
£7,544,354 ; for these last years the value of the exports of United
Kingdom produce was £9,306,320 and £0,909,072 ; while the value
of the exports of foreign and colonial produce and manufactures in
1882 was £1,689,652 and in 1884 £1,150,964. Among the principal
imports are cocoa, coffee, corn (including maize), apples, provisions
(especiallv butter, eggs, and potatoes from France and tlio Channel
Isles), ram and brandy, sugar, wine, wool, and rags. Among the
principal exports of the produce of the United Kingdom are apparel,
cotton goods, leather, linen goods, machinery, copper aoA iron
goods, woollen and worsted goods. The number of ships 'uuilt at
the port in 1885 was 19, of 17,875 tons burden.
The Roman station of Clausentnm was situated at Bitterne on the
opposite side of the Itchen, where extensive Roman remains have
been found. The present town was founded by the West Saxons,
probably soon after their landing under Cerdic and Cynric on the
shores of Southampton Water in 4-95. The name Hantun-scire
(Hamptonshire) occurs in the Saxon Chronicle under date 755, and
Hamtuu is first mentioned separately in 837. The prefix "South"
was probably added after the annexation of Wessex to Mercia in 920,
to distinguish it from the Hampton in. Mercia afterwards called
Northampton. The town was frequently ravaged by the Danes
in the 9th and 10th centuries. Canute, after his establishment on
the throne, made it his occasional residence, and Southampton
beach is reputed to have been the scene of his rebuke to the flattery
of his courtiers, by the demonstration of his powerlcssness to
■crfntr'ol the waves. Southampton is mentioned in Domesday as
Hantune. It possessed a mint as early as 925. It was frequently
visited by successive monarchs from the time of Henry I. In
1338 it repulsed an attack of the French and Genoese. In 1416
it was the rendezvous of the army of Henry V. for France, and
during his stay in the town he detected the conspiracy against
him of the earl of Cambridge, Lord Scrope, and Sir Thomas Grey,
who were executed outside the Bargate. In 1512 the marquis of
Dorset embarked from the port with 10,000 men to the aid of
Ferdinand of Spain against France, and in 1522 the earl of Surrey
set out from it with a large fleet to escort Charles V. Queen
Elizabeth held a court at Southampton in 1569. On account of
the outbreak of the plague in London in 1625 the council was
transferred by the king to Southampton, where on the 7th September
a treaty was signed with the United Provinces. The town received
its first charter from Henry II., and a charter of incorporation
from Henry VI. in 1445 under the style of "mayor, bailiff, anj
burgesses." This charter was somewhat modified by that granted'
by Charles I. which remained the governing charter till the passing
of the Municipal Act. The corporation act as the urban sanitary
authority. The town first returned members to parliament in 1295.
Among eminent persons connected with Southampton are Dibdin
the song writer. Bishop Peacocke, Thoma-s Fuller, and Dr Watts.
See History of Southampton, by J. Sylvester Davies, 1883.
SOUTH AUSTEALIA, which lies between 129° and
141° E. long., has New South Wales and Victoria on
the E., Western Australia on the W., and the Southern
Ocean on the S. Originally its northern line was 26*
S. lat., but by the addition of the Northern Territory, or
Alexandra Land, the area has been extended from 380,070
square miles to 903,690, and the northern border carried
to the Indian Ocean. 'The length is therefore from lat.
38° S. to 11° S., nearly 2000 miles. Being much more
northern and less southern than the neighbouring colony,
its present designation is incorrect in point of fact.
The southern coast-line shows two large gulfs, Spencef
and St Vincent,— the first 180 miles long, the other IQQ
Spencer Gulf is open to the ocean, while St Vincent Gul^
is partly shielded by Kangaroo Island, with Investigator
Straits as its westerly entrance and Backstairs Passage for
an easterly or*. Yorke Peninsula separates the two gulfs.
Port Lincoln and Sleaford Bay are at the south-west of
Spencer Gulf. On the western side of Eyria Peninsula—
the land westward of Spencer Gulf — are the following
bays: — Coffin, Anxious, V^enus, Streaky, Denial, and
Fowler. The junction of South and Western Australia ia
on the Australian Bight. Encounter Bay is on the Victo-
rian side, with Lacepede, Guichcn, Rivoli, and Macdonnell
Bays to the South-ea-st. Flinders, Investigator, and Nuyt
Islands are south-west. Cape Jervis is at the eastern
entrance of St Vincent Gulf, Spencer at tho western.
In Northern Territory aro Melville, Adam, Arnhem, and
EafHes Bays, Van Diemen's Gulf, Port Essington, and
Port Darwin (lat. 12° S.). The Gulf of Carpentaria
divides the territory from Cape York Peninsula of Queens-
land. Melville, Bathurst, and GrootcKylandt are northi rn
islands. The ranges, of hills aro few, rarely reaching
3000 feet. One chain runs north from Capo Jervis.
Flinders range has Brown and Arden, 3000 fcot Lofiy,
284
SOUTH AUSTRALIA
near Adelaide, is 2330 feet. Volcanic cones, as Gambiei-
and ScLanck, are south-east, near Victoria. In general
the country is level, where not slightly undulatinj;. It
is far from being well watered, especially to tlie west-
ward and in the interior. The JMurray, passing through
Lake Victoria, had previously received most of the drain-
age of the three eastern colonies. The Torrens flows by
Adelaide. Few streams reach the ocean. Cooper's Creek
drains part of Western Quecn.sland. The Indian seas
receive the Alligator, Liverpool, Eoper, Macarthur, Daly
and Victoria rivers. Albert and the Coorong are lakes at
the Jlurray mouth. The depressed area northward con-
tains Lakes Torrens, Eyre, Gairdner, Blanche, Hope, and
Amadeus. The overland telegraph to Port Darwin passes
mostly through an ill-watered country, with oases around
springs. The population, 330,000, is principally within
100 miles of Adelaide, the capital, in lat. 35° S. The
leading places north of Adelaide are Gawler, 25 miles,
Barossa 38, Kapunda 49, Angaston 51, Port Wakefield 60,
Clare 90, Kooringa of Burra Burra 100, Moonta 100
north-west, Kadina 96 north-west, Blyth 100, Morgan
or North-West Bend 105, Broughton 150, St Petersburg
154, Port Pirie 155 north-west. Port Augusta 240 north-
west, Colton 320, Blinman 350. To the east are Barker
21. Echunga 23, Nairne 25, Kingston or Port Caroline
170 south-east, Narracoorte 220, Penola 250, Gambler
290, Macdonnell 304. Lincoln is 210 west. Adelaide
Port is 7, Glenelg 7, Brighton 10, Willunga 30 south;
Goolwa, the ilurray port, is 60 south. Palmerston of
Port Darwin is the chief town of Northern Territory;
Southport is 25 miles south of it. Other settlements are
inland mining townships. There are 36 counties, 4 pas-
toral districts, 23 municipalities, and 112 district councils
in South Australia proper.
Climate. — Excepting Western Australia, this is the driest
portion of the island continent. The rain clouds from the
Pacific or the Indian Ocean have little store left on reach-
ing the South Australian districts. The north-west summer
monsoons favour the northern coast-lands, though the rains
penetrate but few miles inland. The trade-winds bring
only dry blasts from the Queensland side. A large propor-
tion of the south-western shore has a very partial deposi-
tion, and even the southern Yorke Peninsula, laved by two
great gulfs, seldom shows any surface water. The conflict
between the polar and equatorial currents occasionally
throws down rain in the interior, though many a thunder-
storm fails to let fall more than a few drops. But the
south-eastern coast catches a fair amount of rain from
the western breezes off the Southern Otean. The settled
districts have winter rains, when Adelaide plains are
transformed from parched sterility to luxuriant vegetation.
The average annual rainfall there is but 20 inches, with
an evaporation of three times that amount. In 1885 (a
dry year) Adelaide had only 16 inches. In some years
only 5 inches have fallen, even on parts of the sea-shore.
The interior, however, has been known to have extensive
floods afte-r sudden storms. The northern coast, aaat Port
Darwin, has from 50 to 70 inches, , though for several
months without a shower. The heat is considerable during
the dry summer time, though cold is felt severely on winter
mornings and nights, even in the tropics, when a dozen
degrees of frost may be followed in a few hours by a tem-
perature of 80° or 90°.
The health conditions of the colony are but little
inferior, except in Adelaide and Port Darwin, to those
ruling in Tasmania and New Zealand, which are so much
cooler and wetter. Dry heat is never so prejudicial as a
moist heat. A raging hot wind from the north and
north-west, to which Adelaide is so unpleasantly exposed,
is tryiag^to youn» children, though it never brings. noxious
gases. On the rontrarj-, when passing over eucalyptus
forests it brings down health-giving airs, in spite of ICO*
in the sun, or even 120° in the shade. Diarrhoea may
trouble in summer, and catarrh in winter ; but, with a
birth-rate of 39 in the thousand and a death-rate of from
12 to 17, South Australia stands more favourably than
England in relation to health. Recently, several town-
.sliipp had for the year but seven deaths in the thousajid,
exhibiting a freedom from mortality three times greater
than London. The death-rate of the colony during 1885
was only 12 '48 to the thousand, while the birth-rate was
37-70. One-third of the deaths were in Adelaide. Reports
from the tropical Northern Territory speak of fever and
ague, especially among imprudent gold-miners.
Geology. — The few mountain ranges scattered throughout the
colony were once, in all luobability, but islands rising in a^
mediterranean sea that connected the Indian Ocean and Java Sea'
with the Southern Ocean. Over at least the' southern half of
South Australian territory the water flowed in Tertiary times. The
climatic effect of such an archipelago of islands must have been
very diflerent from what now is realized in that region. The rise
of the country displayed that vast e.\tent of arenaceous limestone
forming the southern coast floor, and extending westward
hundreds of miles in Western Australia, and far eastward in
Victoria. The south coast is still rising. The Murray cuts its
channel through this vast coralline formation. According to the
Rev. J. Tenibon Woods, the newer Pliocene is near Adelaide,
while the older is at Mount Gambier. The Murray cliffs aro
Upper Miocene, and the Murray flats are Lower Miocene. He
finds little or none of Eocene. Flint bands occur in this lime-
stone, particularly at Gambier. The Biscuit country, south-east,
has flat limestone concretionary cakes on the surface, more or less
rounded. Beds of sand cover large areas of the recent rock.
Caves abound in the Gambier district, provided with stalactites
and stalagmites. Subterranean rivers flow through some of the
caverns, and are occasionally reached by natural sloping wells.
Gambier exhibits much Bryozoan limestone. Its 40 species and
16 genera of Polyzoa are in Lower Crag. The coral limestone
there has extensive flint bands. Foraminifera are of many kinds;
some of the Rhizopods are still existing in Australian waters.
Sharks' teeth and large nautili are frequently met with. Most
fossils are in casts, except Pectcn, Bnjozoa, Echini, &c. The
Murray cli9"s mark the remains of an extensive formation, since
largely denuded. The Gambier deposits prove the presence of an
ancient deep sea, when little of Australia, as we uow perceive it,
had any existence. The South Australian ranges are generally of
Primary order, the Silurian formation being often pierced or
flooded by igneous rocks, which have transmuted the strata.'
While granites aud granitoids are in great masses, the basalts and,'
greenstones of a later age are not wanting in the ranges. The
■Primary rocks are observed, also, in Eyria Peninsula, Port Lincoln,!
the central continental districts, aud very prominently in the
Northern Territory. Flat-topped sandstouo hills prevail north-
ward. Westward and south-eastward the Tertiary rests on a
granite floor. Eastward there is the same Primary presence, mth
crystalline mountains developing silver mines just over the border.
Metamorphic ro!^, rising amidst Tertiary beds, are strong in
Yorke Peninsula, producing much copper. The tablelands are of
horizontal sandstone, often on spiriferous limestone. Desert sand-
stone may be Miocene. Near the Victorian boundary, in the
south-east corner of South Australia, recent volcanic action is
apparent. Several of the lakes there were once craters. The
deep Blue Lake, or Devil's Inkstand, occupies the centre of Mount
Gambier. The banks are nearly 300 feet high, and are formed of
lavas and volcanic ashes. Cinder walls are detected, and other
varieties of volcanic products. Several smaller cones surround the
great mount. The country itself is of the usual Tertiary lime-
stone, moie or less covered with ashes. Mount Schanck, between
Gambier and the sea, is known as the Devil's Punchbowl. This
cone of lava has an empty crater 200 feet deep. Gambier and
Schanck are landmarks to passing mariners. Among the fossil
forms in Tertiary Pliocene strata are those of the huge Diprotodon,
a marsupial vegetable feeder 16 feet in height, with gigantic
kangaroos, emus, wombats, &c.
Minerals. — South Australia, though without coal, was the first
Australian colony to have a metallic mine, and the first to posses.s
a gold mine. In 1841 the wheel of a dray, goiug over a hilt
near Adelaide, disclosed to view silver-lead ore. In the midst of
the bad times in 1843 the Kapunda copper mine was found. In
1845 the wonderful Burra Burra copper was first wTought. The
land, 10,000 acres, cost £10,000; and for several years the
dividends to shareholders were 800 per cent, per annum. The first
colonial mineral export _wa3 30 tons of lead ore, value £12&, ia
&OUTH AUSTRALIA
285
1843. The copper declined as prices feu. It was £322,983 m 1885,
when rates were £50 a ton, but £762,386 ten years before with
over £90. In 1886 most of the mines were closed. . Between 250
and 400 miles north of Adelaide a very rich copper district exists.
Lead is very abundant. Manganese, nickel, bismuth, antimony,
and silver have been mined. Tin is seen in granitic places. Iron
occurs in almost all formations and in all conditions. There is
abundance of hpsmatite, micaceous, bog, and other ores rich in the
metal. Talisker and other mines paid in silver. Tlio wonderful
Silverton, of Barrier Ranges, in a desert, isjust outside the boundary,
though 300 miles only from Adelaide while 600 from Sydney. Gold
was got from a quartz vein at the Victoria mine, near Adelaide, as
early as 1846, but did not pay the company. Partial gold working
has been conducted at Echunga, &c. , in southern hiUs. There are
rich alluvial and quartz gold mines in Northern Territory, at from '
100 to 150 miles south of Port Darwin. For the year 1884 the
yield was £77,935. Of 1349 miners 1205 were Chinese. Gold is
now worked at Waukaringa, 225 miles north of Adelaide. Copper,
'tin, and silver are found in Northern Territory. Among other
minerals asbestos, roofing slates, and fine marbles may be named.
Some forty years ago precious stones, especially garnets and
sapphires, were gathered in the Barossa Hills. Carbonaceous
material is found at the Coorong, &c., yielding 60 per cent, of oil.
Lake Eyre has a rude coal. Kapunda marble quarry is a success.
In 1885 there were 16,493 acres leased for minerals. The value
of minerals exported in 1885 was £338,132.
AgricuHure. — This is essentially an agricultural colony. In its
first establishment, farming was intended as the main occupation.
The land was cut up for sale into eighty-acre lots with the view of
settling the people on arrival, and concentrating them, instead of
having them scattered as in the neighbouring colonies, in which
pastoral pursuits completely dwarfed the farming industry. This
wise provision made the colony for years the supplier of breadstuffs
to Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Perth, and Auckland. As neigh-
bours became wheat-producers, Adelaide merchants had to seek
markets in Natal, Mauritius, the Cape, or even Europe. At all
times the state has lent every assistance to agriculture. As the
colony suffers more from drought than anything else, public reser-
voirs are constructed and artesian wells are sunk. Forest culture
has especially attracted Government attention. Reforesting and
the establishment of nurseries for the trees, fruits, and vegetables
of other lands go hand in hand. Forest reserves already amount to
150,000 acres. Hundreds of thousands of trees are annually planted.
The land system, sound at the beginning, has been repeatedly
amended, especially with a view to the advancement of pastoral
interests. Instead of cash sales, as formerly, conditional purchases
may be made, extending over a long period, subject to conditions-
of residence and cultivation. At the end of 1884 only ten million
acres had been purchased. There were, however, 53,000,000 acres
enclosed, chiefly for pasturage, and 2,785,490 under cultivation.
The crop for March 1885 'was as follows: — wheat, 1,942,653 acres;
fallow, 450,536; hay, 308,429; Artificial grasses, 23,217; bariey,
15,697; lucerne, 8649; oats, 7264; orchard, 5825; potatoes, 5666;
pease, 4601 ; vineyard, 4590. The culture indicates a warm and
dry climate, different from New Zealand or the tropical coast of
Queensland. The product of South Australian fields is so much
smaller per acre than in any of the neighbouring colonies that only
an open level country of cheap land, with effective machinery at
moderate cost, could bo managed at a profit. Going northward
from Adelaide the country becomes too dry for roots, and then too
precarious even for wheat. The county of Adelaide is very favour-
ably placed for vineyards, oliveyards, and orchards. About half the
olive trees and a third of the almond trees are there. Of 3,704,107
grape vines in the colony, Adelaide county had 2,158,468, and
Light, in the neighbouring hills, had 860,356. There were in
1884 473,535 gallons of wine made. The commissioners lately
reported that the light white wines kept sound and good, while
full-bodied red wines continue to improve with age. The Water
Conservation Department is of great service to agriculture. Tropical
cultivation receives some attention already in Northern Territory.
The Chinese raise rice crops, there being heavy rains near the coast.
Daly river has excellent soil and climate for sugar and codec.
The pastoral progress has been considerable, notwithstanding
want of moisture. In 1885 there were 1528 leases over 214,916
equaro miles, besides 257 annual leases with 11,214 square miles.
There were then 168,420 horses, 389,726 catUc, 163,807 pigs,
0,690,406 sheep (twenty sheep per head of population). Of
these the settled counties had 151,058 horses, 179,206 cattle, and
4,995,394 sheep. In Northern Territory, with 136,000 cattle,
there wore in December 1885 6000 horses and 40,000 sheep, that
country, excepting in the dry interior, being unfitted for wool-
buarerv. The total export of wool grown in South Australia had
only the value of £1,671,775 in 1885. The prices obtained woro a
fourth less than ten years before. The rabbit post is felt as seriously
in pastoral ns in agricultural operations. Kangaroos are far less
troublesome to stockholdcia than in Queensland. Where water
nan bo procured by dams, reservoirs, or wells stock can be kept,
since, where the grass fails, cotton bush and various saline plants
supply sufficient food. An artesian well lately was sunk 1220 feet
Wool is remarkably fine there. While a South Australia merino has
2720 serrations to an inch of wool, a Leicester sheep has but 1850.
Fauna. — South Australia is not separated from the neighbour-
ing colonies by any natural boundaries ; hence the fauna includes
many animals which are also to be found in the land lying to the
cast and west. The northern half of the colony lies within the
tropics, and possesses a tropical fauna, which is, however, practic-
ally identical with that of northern Queensland.' In spite of its
immense extent north and south, and a corresponding diversity in
climate, the colony is poorer in animal life than its neighbours.
It possesses thirty-five genera of mammals. These include both
genera of the order Monotremata, — the Echidna, or spiny ant-
eater, and the Ornithorhynchus, or ' duck-billed platypus, both
of which are found also in- eastern Australia and lasmania. The
other order oi Mammalia associated with Australia, the ilarsupialia,
is well represented in South Australia. It contains seven genera
of Macropodidx or kangaroos, including the wallaby and kangaroo
rat, four genejra of Phalangistidse, or opossums, and five species
of Dasyuridse, or "native cats." Two genera of this family are
peculiar to the region — the Cheetocercus and the Aniichinomys ; the
latter is found in the interior. It is a mouse-like animal with
large ears, and is remarkable for the elongation of its fore-arm
and hind-foot and for the complete absence of the hallux. The
PJiascolomys, or wombat, one of the largest of the marsupials, is also
found in South Australia, and the curious Myrmecobitis, or ant-
eater of Western Australia. This remarkable animal is about the
size of a squirrel ; it possesses fifty-two teeth (a greater number
than any known quadruped), and, unlike the other members of
its order, the female has no pouch, the young hanging from nipples
concealed amongst the hair of her abdomen. The Chssropus, with
peculiarly slender limbs and a pouch opening backwards, is found
in the interior. The remaining Mammalia consist of the dingo, or
native dog, and a few species of Muridm, the mouse family, and
Cheiroptera, or bats. There are about 700 species of birds,
including 60 species of parrots. Of the 9 families peculiar to the
Australian region, 5 are well represented, including the Meliphagidm
(honey-suckers), Cacatuidm (cockatoos), Platycercidm (broad-tailed
and grass parroquets), Megapodidx (mound-makers') and Casuartdaj
(cassowaries). The last-named family is represented by the
Dromscus, or emu, which is hunted in some parts of the colony.
Reptiles are fairly represented : there are fifteen species of
poisonous snakes. The lizards are very peculiar; South and Western
Australia contain twelve peculiar genera. No tailed Amphibia exist
in the continent, but frogs and toads are plentiful.
Flora. — The plant species resemble those of the eastern colonies
and Western Australia, but are more limited in variety. The
colony, from its dryness, lacks a number known elsewhere.
Enormous areas are almost destitute of forests or of timber trees.
The Eucalyptus family, so valuable for timber and gum as well as
for sanitary reasons, are fairly represented. Acacias are abundant,
the bark of some being an article of commerce. Flinders range
has much of the valuable sugar-gum. Eucalyptus Corynocalyz,
which is being now preserved in forest reserves. Its timber is
very iard and strong, not warping, resisting damp and ants. The
head-flowered stringybark, Euc. capitellata, has a persistent bark.
A sort of stringybark, Euc. tetrodonta, is found in Northern
Territory. The gouty-stem tree (Adansonia) or monkey-bread of
the north is a sort of baobab. About 500 northern plants are
Indian. The Tamarindus indica occurs in Arnhem land, witK
native rice, rattans, and wild nutmeg. The cedar is of the Indian
variety. Pines are numerous in the south, palms in the north;
among the most beautiful is ,tho Kcntia acuminata. Banksias are
very common in sandy districts. Flowering shrubs are common in
the south. There are 130 known grasses in Northern Territory.
Fi^lieries. — Whaling was formerly an important industry about
Encounter Bay, as sealing was in Kangaroo Island. The wliales
have migrated, and the seals are exterminated. On the northern side
trepang or beche-de-mer fishery has commenced, and pearl fisheries
have been established. Of fish within colonial waters there are
forty-two peculiar genera. The tropical north has similar fish to
those of North Queensland, while those of southern hays rcsembl*
many of the species of Victoria, Tasmania, and New South Wales.
There are the barracouta, bonito, bream, carp, catfish, rock coJ
and Murray cod, conger, crayfish, cuttle, dogfish, eel, flatfish, flat-
head, flounder, flying-fish, gndfish, grayling, gurnard, hake, John
Dory, ray, salmon (so-called), schnanpcr, seahorse, shark, sol^
squid, swordfish, whiting, &c. Though called by English naniea,
the fish. do not always correspond to those in Europe. The Murrmy
cod is a noble freshwater fish. . .
Comm«rce. —There is little speculative trade, the shipping bcinj
1 Oao geoiu ol thin remorloiblo fainUy— tho iipoo— !• cwnBnod toths dlMUct.
28G
S 0 u — s o u
Kingdom, £997,785 from New South "Wa)es, £714,272 from
Victoria, £38,460 from Tasmania, £34,675 from New Zealand,
£97,230 from Iiuliu, £-28,011 from Natal, £55,598 from Honi;l;ong,
£19,201 from Caiiaila, £239.093 from Wauritius, £54,945 from
China, £49,028 from France, £61,727 from Germany, £72,214
from Norway ami Swollen. £186,236 from tlic United States.
Of the exports;, £6,623,704, there went to the United Kinstdoni
£4,081,864; New South Wales, £773,240; Victoria, £65^019;
Queensland, £255,746; Cape Colony, £249,844; India, £144,287;
Western Australia, £132,554; Natal, £7S,11S: Franec, £57,500;
Mauritius, £52,010; Belgium. £33,092. Among the cxjiorts
during 1884 were wool, £2,616.626; wheat. £1,694,005; Hour,
£794,812; copper, £469,231; sheepskins, £87,455; silver-lead,
£66,592; bark, £45,049 : jams, £35,338; horses, £30,845; tallow,
£28,403; wine, £17,061; gold, £15,469. There were imported
overland 411,307 sheep, and exported 168,770. Of shipping,
there entered 1120 vessels of 909,335 tons, and cleared 1111 of
925,197. The British amounts were 768,301 and 783,121 tons
respectively. In tlie Northern Territory the imports were
£140,229, exports £90,411 ; the gold export for the last six mouths
of 1SS5 was £33,869. The assets of the eleven banks at the close
of 1885 were £13,380.716,— total deposits £5,880,950. The Govern-
ment savings banlis, on June 30, 18S.5, had 53,164 depositors, with
£1,571,283 as bal.ances — five per cent interest being allowed.
Manufactures. — Increased attention has been lately directed to
local industries, and a more protective tarift' has been enforced with
a view to their development. The official returns for March 31,
.1886, gave 640 works, employing 7952 men and 1350 women.
Communication. — The district councils have charge of many of
tlie roads. The general dryness of the country is favourable to the
condition of roads. Railways have been constructed for the con-
veyance of farming produce to market, the caiTiage of minerals to
port, and the tapping of the Murray river traffic from the east.
At the beginning of 1886 there were 1211 miles of railway open,
and 570 in course of construction. The working expenses during
1885 came to £386,000, and the revenue to £556,000. There are
several tramways, supplementing railway traffic.
Water-Supply. — The Government is aiding the railway movement
for opening out the interior by the construction of waterworks and
public reservoirs. To supply Adelaide, independently of the Torrens
river, there has been an expenditure of £866,942. Kapunda has a
reservoir of 41,200,000 gallons; Port Pirie of 25,700,000; Mount
Barker of 6,000,000; Port Augusta of 666,000; Mount Gambler
and Gawler each of 279,000. There are large storage tanks at
many places, e.g., for 810,000 gallons at Moonta.
Administration. — Tlie governor is the representative of the
crown. The legislative council, of twenty-four members, one third
retiring every three years, is chosen by 32,000 electors. The house
of assembly, of fifty-two members, is appointed for three years by
60,000 electors. Responsible government dates from 1856. The
public debt, contracted for useful public works, was £18,000,000
jn 1886. For the year 1884-85 the revenue was £2,157,931, but
expenditure was £2,430,513. A revision of the tariff was necessary.
Costoms yielded £511,230; railways, £662,455, against working
expenses £411,850; land sales, £333,369; land rents, £132,013;
waterworks, £72,366. The expenditure included £311,189 for
public works, besides loans; police, £102,784; civil establish-
ments, £73,828 ; legal, £50,051 ; charitable institutions, £86,968
(there being no poor law); military defences, £39,473 ; immigra-
tion, £31,129, &c. The Northern Territory gave £71,518 as re-
ceipts to the state, but with £85,000 charges. The revenue for
1885-86 was £2,279,039, and the expenditure £2,383,290. No
'Australasian colony has done so much for the good of the aborigines
and the advance of good morals as South Australia. The adminis-
tration is just and firm, being well sustained by public sentiment,
t • Education. — Not being so wealthy as its eastern neighbours, the
colony has not been able to devote so large an amount to schools ;
still, a grant of £126,000 was made during 1884-85 towards the
instruction -of 60,000 pupils. Of 450 schools, half are called
public, half provisional for thinly-peopled districts. Payment
from scholars is not dispensed vritii as in Victoria. Lands are
being set apart as educational grants for the future. All religious
denominations are equal in the sight of the law, none receiving
any state aid. Bible reading is sanctioned before school hours,
and any religious lessons may be given at the close of school time.
The Adelaide university, so richly endowed by the colonists, re-
ceives an annual grant of £2550 from' the local parliament.
Fopviatimi. — Including the Northern Territory, the population
was returned in 1881 as 279,865 (149,530 males, "130,335 females),
in addition to 6346 aborigines (3478 males, 2868 females). The
births during 1885 were 12,046, and the deaths 3987 (2205 males
and 1782 females). Classed at the last census accordingto religion,
the popiilation may be thus stated : — Church of England, 76,000 ;
Koman Catholic, 42,920 ; Wesleyans, 42,103 ; Lutherans, 19,617 ;
Presbyterians, 17,917 ; Baptists, 14,000 ; Bible Christians, 10,500 ;
Primitive Methodists, 10,350 ; Congregationalists, 9908. The
population in the Northern Territory, 3500, contains only about
a hundred females, but has 3000 Chinamen. Moro than half th«
peojile of South Australia, whether of English or German parentage,
are native born, hi 1886 the population was 325,000.
Iliiiturij. — Though the coa.st of Northern TeiTitory was well'
known to Portuguese and Spanish navigatoi-s as early as jierhaps
1530, being called Great Java, it was not surveyed till 1644, when
Tasniaii laid down the line of shore pretty accurately. The
western part of the southern coast had been seen and named Nuyt's
Land in 1627. P»ut Flinilcrs, by his discovery of the two great gulfs.
Kangaroo Island, and Kiicounter Bay, in 1802, was the first to
reveal South Australia proper. Captain Sturt descended the
Murray in 1830, and looked over the hills near Adelaide. The
first to direct attention to a settlement there was Major Baron,
who connuuuicated with the colonial office in February 1831.
His suggestion was to establish, at no charge to the British
Government, a private company, that should settle a j>arty on
Yorko Peninsula, He believed a largo river entered Speiicei
Gulf In August Colonel Torrens and others proposed to luuchase
land between 132** and 141" — .^00,000 acres at 5s. an acre. Some
were in favour of Spencer Gulf, others of Kangaroo Island, and a
few for the mainland towards the Murray. Memorialists in 1832
sought a charter for the South Australian Association, giving
extensive powers of self-govcniment. Land sales were to pay the
passages of free labour, chiefly young married people, and no con-
victs were ever to be sent thither. Lord Goderich did not favour
the scheme, and thought a colony with free institutions might
prejudice the interests of New South Wales, while fiee trade
would interfere with the English navigation laws. After much
negotiation, the English authorities regarded the cchcme more
favourablj', but would not consent to give the company the powers
they songht. The company receded in their demands, and offered
security for the proper observance of law and order, while deposit-
ing cash for tlie purchase of land. Captain Sturt in 1834
informed the colonial secretary that Spencer Gulf and Kangaroo
Island were objectionable, but that the eastern side of St Vincent
Gulf was the best locality. In 1835 the ministry got an Act
passed for the erection of a colony, under commissioners appointed
by the crown, who would be responsible for their acts to the British
Government. It was arranged that a local government should be
established when the settlement had 50,000 people. Mr George
Fife Angas advanced a large sum as security to the state. Though
the first settlers were sent to Kangaroo Island, all were afterwards
gathered on the Adelaide plains. The colony was proclaimed
under a gum tree, December 28, 1836. Great delay took place in
the survey of land. The South Australian Company purchased
large tracts from the commissioners at 123. per acre and sold at
20s. A general speculative spirit arrested progress. Governor
Gawler went into extravagant outlay on public buildings, &c. , and
drew against orders upon the English treasury. Such difficulties
arose that the British rulers had to suspend the charter in 1841 and
make South Australia a crown colony. A revival of prosperity took
place when the farms were tilled and poverty had taught prudence.
Copper and lead mines were subsequently discovered. Kapunda
in 1843, and the Burra Burra copper mine in 1845, greatly aided in
the restoration of commercial credit. The gold fever in Victoria
drew off numbers in 1852 ; but the good prices then realized for
breadsttiffs gave a great impetus to farming. It deserves to be
mentioned that rarely if ever has a colony been so favoured as
South Australia iu the character of its early settlers. (J. BO.)
SOUTH BEND, a city of the United States, the county j
seat of St Joseph county, Indiana, received its name from
its position at a great bend of the St Joseph river, which
is navigable to this point from its mouth at St Joseph on
Lake Michigan. By railway the city is 85 miles east of
Chicago. It is a great manufacturing centre, with iron-
works, carriage, waggon, plough, and sewing machine
factories, flour-mills, paper-mills, &e. The court-house is
one of the best buildings in the State ; and the Roman
Catholic university of Notre Dame, St JIary's academy,
and St Joseph's academy are institutions of some import-
ance. The population of the city numbered 1G52 in 185(^
7206 in 1870, and 13,280 in 1880.
SOUTH CAROLINA, one of the original thirteen
States of the American Union, commonly known as the
Palmetto State, from the abundance of this kind of paJm
on the coast, once formed a part of that vast territory of
the New World claimed by the Spaniards under the name
of Florida and by the French under that of New France ;
or, to be more concise, it comprised the southern or lower
portion of what was formerly styled Carolina, and subse-
quently divided into North and South Carolina. _ It lies
r
b O U T H C A R O L I K iv
287
between 32" 4' 30" and 35° 12' N. lat. and between 78' 25'
and 83° 49' W. loi.g. In shape it is an irregular triangle,
the vertex resting upon the Blue Ridge Mountains in the
extreme north-west, while the Atlantic terms its base.
It is bounded N. and N.E. by North Carolina, S.E. by
the Atlantic, and S.W. by the Savannah river, which,
with its tributaries the Tugaloo and Chatauga, separates
it from Georgia. The state is 189 miles long and 160
broad, containing 30,961 square miles or 19,815,040
acres, and is divided into thirty-four counties (formerly
districts). At the census of ISSO the population
numbered 995,577, of whom 391,105 were white, the rest
coloured. Very few Indians are to be found. The surface
may be about equally divided into high, middling, and
lowland, the last-named rising from the sea-ooast, where
it is very flat and level, and gradually increasing in
elevation towards the interior, where it attains a mean of
250 feet, continuing to the north line, where, after varying
from 300 to 800 feet it reaches its highest elevation of
1000 feet. The land along and near the coast is low,
marshy, and swampy, especially on the rivers' banks, rolling
and diversified towards the centre, and undulating near the
mountain slope, but in places abrupt. King's Mountain
rising almost perpendicularly 500 feet. The chief eleva-
tions in this section are the Saluda Mountains, spurs of the
Blue Kidge, King's Mountain (1692 feet), Paris Mountain
J2054 feet). Table Rock (3000 feet), Caesar's Head (3118
ffcet), and Mount Pinnacle (3436 feet). This region abounds
in beautiful and picturesque scenery, rendering it attractive
to tourists, and making it a great summer resort.
The land is irrigated and well-drained by numerous
rivers, the largest of which is the Santee, formed by the
Saluda, Congaree, Catawba, and Wateree, uniting at the
centre of the State. The other rivers of any size are the
Waccamaw, Lynch's, Great and Litlje Peedee, fprming the
Peedee, Black, Wando, Ashley, Cooper, Edisto, Combahee,
Ashepoo, Coosaw, Port Royal, and Broad (on the coast),
this last being more of a bay. The sea-coast is fringed
by numerous islands, and indented by bays and inlets, —
Winyaw and Bull's Bays, Charleston Harbour, Stono Inlet,
North and South Edisto Inlets, St Helena Sound, and
Port Royal, — the last one of the finest harbours in the
world, as its name, said to have been given on this
account by the early discoverers and explorers, would
imply. The entire coast south of Winyaw is composed of
a network ot creeks and sounds, so that, for small craft,
navigation inland may be had from this point to the
mouth of the Savannah on the extreme south-west. Most
of the rivers rising in the mountains are navigable nearly to
the foot-slope. Hero numerous rapids and waterfalls afford
excellent mill-power. Canals throughout the State are not
numerous, the fewformerly in use having been abandoned
in favour of the railroads. The Santee Canal, connecting
that river with the headwaters of the Cooper, 22 miles in
length, has given place to the North- Eastern Railway.
The climate of South Carolina is mild and gonial, snow
falling in the mountains but rarely in the middle sections,
and seldom or never along the coast. The sea islands
generally, as well as the pine barrens, are healthy,' furnish-
ing the planter with a summer home and safe retreat from
the malaria of the rice lands. These regions wore formerly
innocuous to the whites, as they still are to the negroes,
but subsequent clearance and cultivation have rendered
them fatal in summer. The midlands are considered
healthy in all parts except }icre and there along the creeks,
while the mountain region is unexceptionable.
Tho coast of South Carolina, like ploces in tho same latitude, ia
suhjoct to violent Btorms, tornadoes, and cyclones, which inako
their annual visits on or about tho autumnal equinox, doing much
damage. Till qutto recently tho district has never been Korious)"
troubled with earth.'^uokca Sii^t treigpn hfva iaiUoil >)o«i> l*ti
and recorded since 1754, without, however, causing serious injnryJ
But on the night of the 31st August 1886 Charleston was visited
by an earthquake which was followed by other shocks and tremors,
which continued night and day at iiitervols with greater or leas
violence, as the following list shows : — '
Sept .8...1 shock, slight.
Sept. 10. ..1 shock, slight.
Sept. 12. ..1 shock, slight.
Sept. IS. ..2 shocks, modcrato.
Sept. 21.. .1 shock, severe.
Sept 22...1shock,moJerate,locaI
Sept. 27...1 shock, severe.
Sept 28. ..1 shock, moderate.
Sept. 30. ..1 shock, slight
August 27. ..1 shock, slight.
August 28. ..1 shook, slight.
August 31 ... 5 shocks, destructive.
Sept 1...3 shocks, severe.
Sept. 2.. .3 shocks, severe.
Sept. 3.. .2 shocks, severe.
Sept. 4. ..2 shocks, slight
Sept 5...1 shock, moderate.
Sept. 7... 2 shocks, slight.
The main shock was very destructive to property, while aboift
forty lives were lost, and many more were injured. Crevices
several yards in length and varying from one to four inches in
mdth appeared, and in some places in tho suburbs of the city
fissures of much larger proportions threw up water to the height
of several feet. There was no warning given except that in the
small town of Summerville, about 22 miles to tho north, consider-
able disturbance was caused by thuds and tremors with detona-
tions on the 27th and 28th, felt on the latter date to some extent'
in Charleston. The violence of these shocks was confined almost!
exclusively to this State, though they were felt in a slighter degree
in Georgia and North Carolina.
The soil in the low country is remarkably fertile, the river
swamps and reclaimed marshes being admirably adapted to the
cultivation of rice, v/hile the sandy loam of the sea islands and
surrounding main produces tho finest long staple, black seed, or
sea island cotton of silky fibre. As we recede from the salt the
staple becomes shorter and tho plant has a less luxuriant growth.
The rice produced here, noted abroad as Carolina rice, is considered
first in the markets of the world. The State was the first to
introduce rice culture in America, the seed having been brought
in 1693 by a vessel from Madagascar. Abundant crops are raised
of wheat, rye, maize, oats, barley, buckwheat, pease, beans, sugar,
tobacco, indigo, sorghum, broom-corn, sunflower, guinea-corn,
sweet and Irish potatoes, hemp, flax, and hops. Numerous
orchards, all over the State, furnish quantities of apples, pears,
quinces, plums, peaches, nectarines, apricots, cherFies, and along
the coast figs, oranges, lemons, olives, and pomegranates. The
raspberry, blackberry, mulberry, and whortleberry are produced.
The strawberry is extensively cultivated along the coast, and
shipped in immense quantities to the northern markets. Of nuts,
the walnut, pecan, chestnut, hickory, shcU-bark, hazel nut, and/
chinquapin may be mentioned. The grape grows wild in many
portions of the State, and in great varieties, which, when culti^
vated, yield a delicious wine. In certain sections hundreds of acres!
are devoted to the culture. The gardens and farms produce in
abundance turnips, beets, parsnips, carrotfi, artichokes, mustard,
benne, rhubarb, arrowroot, water and musk melons, cucumbers,
cabbages, kale, lettuce, caycnue i)epper, squashes, okra, pumpkins,
onions, leeks, beans, radishes, celery, green pease, and tomatoes, —
the last two from early spring to mid-winter. The jasmine,
Cherokee rose or nondescript, wild honeysuckle, and sweet-brier
perfume the woods ; the dog-wood and fringe tree abound in tho
forest ; and garden flowers in the cities, especially Charleston,
Columbia, and Beaufort, arc the admiration of strangers. Con-
spicuous among these are tho Camellia japonica of all varieties
and shades, azalea in every hue, roses of numberless descriptions,
hyacinth, snowdrop, violet, dahlia, tulip, verbena, sweet jlivo,
and heliotrope. Valuable and almost inexhaustible forcsta extend
over the greater part of tho State, the long leaf or yellow pine,
confined cniefly to the low country, covering 10,000,000 acres, and
furnishing immense quantities of timber, tar, pitc!i, turpentine, and
rosin. Hero and elsewhere are found tho maguoli-i, sweet and black
gum, white, water, red, and live oak, black walnut, elm, hickory,
maple, sycamore, ash, cypress, chestnut, beech, locust, persimmon,
dogwood, poplar. Tlie palmetto is peculiar to the coast
Tho forests abound in deer, wild turkeys, foxes, wild eat^
raccoons, opossums, rabbits, and squirrels ; ond along the water-
courses are found the musk otter, kc. Among tho birds aK
pigeons, doves, partridges, woodcock, snipe, immense flocks of wilJ
ducks, including tho English or canvas-back, teal, blackhead, ka.
Freshwater fish of every variety are taken in all the streams in tho
interior, and tho bays and inlets furnisli whiting, mackerel, l>as»,
flounder, sheophead, shad, muUot, hlaekti.sh, sturgeon, tMiijiin,
turtle, shrimps, crabs, and oysters. Quantities of salmon cuul carp
have been furnished by tho fish commissioners for stocking tho
Wfltors
Minerals aro liberally diffused over tho State. Gold is found iu
Lancaster, York, Union, Spartuiliurg, Greenville, Piokens, and
Abbeville counties ; conper in York, S()art«nburg, and J'ickena .
lead in tho last ; iron ol a sujierior quality in Union, Spartanburg,
(jraaaville, and Pickens ; mangauoso in Loncaster, York. Chester.
288
J°Sa Spartanburg, Greenville, Pickens, Anderson, Abbeville
and Edgeheld ; bismuth in Chesterfield and Lancaster ; plumba<ro
ui Spartanburg ; soapstone in Fairfield, Chester, York, Spartan-
burg Laurens Greenville, Pickens, Abbeville, and Edgefield ; coal
in Chesterfield and Marlboro. Limestone abounds in nearly all
the upper counties, but chiefly in Laurens and Spartanburg The
finest blue and grey granite is fonnd in the middle and upper
sections ; sandstone, burrstone, and flagstone in Edgefield, Pickens,
York and Fairfield. Pottery and porcelain clay, quartz, and sand
for glass c-ost in many places. Tuomey states that " the aluminous
formations that occur in immense beds of the finest porcelain clay
are often exposed by the denuding efl-ects of water and lie in rich
strata upon the very surface, ready to the hand of the manufacturer
Between Aiken and Graniteville the beds are in many cases 60 feet
thick while those in the Savannah river near Hamburg are from 10
to 15 feet and of unsurpassed purity." The Aiken councU committee
report in this vicinity immense beds of different kinds of clay, from
the purest and whitest kaolin to the dark-coloured mud of which
bricks are made, sands of all hues, some as fine as flour, others
with large coarse crystals, siliceous earths of many kinds ferru-
ginous sandstones, conglomerate shell, burrstone, mica, feldspar,
and ochres of different colours. But a short distance off a deposit
of magnesia is found, and potash can readily be made in the
surrounding forests E.xperts have pronounced the sands to be
admirably adapted for making glass and crystal, and the quaUty
wl,t)!^ri-"'A?'^'""^. '° ^' '1"^'' 'f °°t ^"P^o"-. to that of
which Staffordshire ware is made. It is doubtful if the combina-
tion of the ingredients of glass and earthenware can be found in
such immediate proximity anywhere else. Mineral springs exist
m several of the upper counties. ^
Railways. Railroads are on the increase. The South Carolina Railway
between Charleston and Augusta, Ga., was, at the time of its com-
pietion, the longest continuous railroad in the world
d?,",.x4„ J/a°"f'i^tures are growing in importance ; chief among them are
dustnes. CO ton ya." and cloth, flour, lumber, turpentine, and fertUizers
li SOI Pi«« V ^''""^■'i'"' "'"' "°'^ '° operation is estimated at
14,821 166 ft of yarn, 79,442,327 yards of cloth, and the value
of product $9,097 464. In 1880 th'ere were 82,324 spinlles and
16/6 looms; m 1884 195,112 spindles and 3652 looms The*
number of lumber mills at work is 729, employing 58^4 hands
fs S5'5^'>'"56 °' f{ff°'''': '^'■.r^l"^ °f '"'^'^ aLu^al production
IS ^0,592,563. Of turpentine stills there are 291, with 6991 hands
tnonitV' ^Th'^'f "■ "*'l! ^-^ ^■^"''^ p.-oduction to the value
ot $ ,812,271. These figures show an increase of 100 per cent in
ibe ^^r r ^'^"- ^^ '■^^"•'^"'^ ^^0 ^^•"'='i at $3, 346, 400 anS
of m,n^ r°"f "''"i"f''=t"'-^^ at 82,114,680. The whole ^alue
5q 8^8 o",'^'''"'"','^, crt'^'J ^"^ i° I860 §8,615,195; in 1870
$9,858,981; in 1880, §16,738,008; in 1884, 832,324 404 South
Carolina phosphates are of recent date, but their importance may
be shown by stating that they pay yearly, by direct taxation an
?hTs?ate" S' -Llf "f !t-'° Pf'^"'- °f ''- wholfincZTf
TnLf^I T T °^ """ "^"^ "■as first pointed out by Mr
Jonathan Lucas, a planter, who afterwards materially assisted^
SoI?l°Pn"^,- *" .r^"'"^^^- Tl^^ fir^t company, tl e^ Charlesto^
El 186?"TWe^''"'°S and Manufacturing 'coi^pany, was S
m 1867. There are now fourteen land and eleven river minin<r
licensed btthlstt!/'' •"' ■" T"^^'' °f individuals who are
licensed by the State to mine in the navigable streams emnlovintr
an estimated capital of about 850,000.^ The toS amount o!
phosphate rock mined and shipped in 1868-70 was oqToo ?nn=
t^t 1883> .355,000 tons, -the total since 1868 being 2 290 000
Jock ?L ''''■Tr?"'°'5'^'°*°'>^^^^«riverandl,211,830land
„Jt,l °^i^"?"''i'S <^°^^^ties report eleven mines in operatkm
employing 600 hands, w th a capital of S440 onn »„)l »„ i
production of §90,000. The sam'e coi^'tfet^r^; rt dghteer"oTd
VJ^R^Ia ^-/'^''^°^- Ten counties report quarries or kaolin beds
orm%Z,p^^^^ ^^th a capital
Ihe upland cotton crop of 1883 was 468,227 bales of 400 lb
bush r 3oTa"T '''''■'"' ''"'.'', r^^ "'^ P™'^"^^™ 10.876 74i
Of wheat nlli^l T^'f^ "'*■? f,'^^"^ ^ "°P "^ ^.187,082 bushels.
VI wneat (182,215 acres) the yield was 1,388,731 bushels Thp nVn
IZltH''-^' r\'''''°/'''f- '^'^^ -a-LTand couon c^p' w
hi,,./ 1 ^ ' 'i^^^' ?' ""=" "^ '•>« ^"^all grain and subsidiary crops
The ,^rn^ % '''■" r '\*> '^^' ^''' y^^' °f 25 to 35 per cent ^ '
aW%fP''?'°'^ "''"'= ^""J '=°l°"'-«'i labour in tte State are
aboutSO per cent, and 70 per cent, respectively. The rate of^^""
S.OUTH CAKOl^INA
paid is from §8 to §9 a month for men and 86 for women with
fcoard. About 23 per cent, of white women and chUdrerworroS
are [hT'colf ?"■ " F^'if '"*' "^ '^' ^°'°"-''- The s/stems us^^
^Irtl conft-act, in which services rendered are paid by eivin^
from 50 cents for pme barren to §100 for choice farmin- land
Horses and mules are raised at very little rn<it Ori'i,:, i
cattle are seldom housed, roaming t^e fores^ratwin.l'c"^ ::it
herded for branding or for driving to market. Sheep thrive awav
t^.'^", ^'"■/"?-, "' Profitable in the mountains.^ Hogs no^
mproved breeds, like cattle, have the liberty of the woods fud are
taken ^vlth dogs when needed. According to estiniateVof im
proved stock there are 792 Jerseys, 177 Ayl^hires 60 Devoi s 33
holstems, 1 Guernsey, besides a numberof Shorthorn^ and Biahmins
Merino, South Down, Oxford Down, and Broad-Tail sheep are raked
m many parts of the State,' ,vith Essex and Berkshire hTgs
of ';;ee tchtls ^s ttg-uXdlnlsi^ T^L^^re" f ''^T ^^^^
tf Xro? ^— '^•^'^'^^•^" ^^^- '"p-'5:sE:trC on """•
fh^^^Lale^ iru-dJ^h^Sirn^o/T--^
and fom''othe:'''r^ "' '''' State superintendent of education
countv th« c^h. F '''■ ^PP"'"ted by the governor. In each
vea^^ the school commissioner is elected by the people for two
years, ihe schools are supported entirely by taxation T;,„,o
Z lt!l r?'''^ ""Jr'^ *° r ^"'^- Tb'e nu'mb1rorp;rso?s L
the State between the ages of six and sixteen is 281,664: of whom
51 440 are white males 49,749 white females, 90 897 coloured
" 78 023/41 ifr'S/""'^]''- Jh^ ""-b- of pupils enrol d
^ y8'°23("!819, white males, 36,639 females, 48,418 coloured
^1o A "dV/T''^^'- The number of male white t ache s em
ployed is 1137, females 1205; coloured males 982, females 449 "
"aluJat§r05^97 '/,''• T ''1'^."' ^''l P""^= schoolhouses,
^It!^ I ft £ l-^^- Jpstitutions for higher education, sup^
ported by the State, are the South Carolina College and South
Carolina Military Academy for white males, and the Claflin ColT .«
for coloured persons of both sexes. There is an institution fS?
the education of the deaf, dumb, and blind. There are besides
numerous private schools and colleges. ■ oesiaes,
Churches of all deuominations multiplied in the State during the Eelisnott
colonial period and subsequently Episcopalians. Presbyerfans ^
^atir,t'r.' ^'P/'''^- ""''/'^"'^h Protestants established cong?e:
gations in Charleston just after 1680. Methodists and Romanists
rZl^^ ''''^"^ ^f"' ^t^' i° 1^5«' «^™^° Lutherans T^1759
l^jf. U'°^u\^"! ^°' *''' ™°^* P=''-t Methodists, some being
Baptists and Presbyterians, a few Episcopalians ^
Charleston (q.v.) is the largest city of the State Columbi* riti.,=
(qv.) the capital, has (1886) a population of 20,000, whUe that of
Chaileston is 60,000. GreenviUe, in the north-iestVrtioVof the
State IS a growing railway centre and manijacturing city, with a
population of 10, 000. Georgetown and Beaufort on the coosTdo a
good shipping business m lumber and other exports. Spartanbur"
?b. I./t ° '^'■o '"P^tant places, the former is a railway centre"
the latter as a health resort for in;-alid strangers in winter, when
the population IS more than doubled. Other towns are Newbcrv
?rd"p?L^"''^iJ'T,°''',V-^'"l''^"' «"'"'"■■■ IJ'-aniteville, Cheste-'
Anderson, Abbeville, Winnsboro, YorkvUle, Union, Cheraw, Wall
halla. Piedmont, Port Royal, Jlarion, Darlington, Lancaster
Ihe executive department consists of a governor, lieutenant- Govt
governor, who is c^ officio president of the%enate, 'comptroUe - men^
general treasurer, secretary of state, attoiney-genera^an 1 a
superintendent of education ; these are elected by the peop e to
serve two years. The legislative department embraces^ ^ uato
and a house of representatives, which together are called the general
pW ,1 V J '^°™" '' composed of thirtyseven members,
ill- I A T ^'''^'■' "1° ^""^ ^^"^ <=o"°'y' '^''cept Charleston
which sends two. The house of representatives consists of 1''4
members, elected for two years. The judicial departurent consi^'ts
of a supreme court and of circuit, probate, and justices' courts
Ihe supreme and circuit court judges are elected by the gcncrai
assembly,--the former for six years, the latter for four? The
probate judges for each county are elected by the people, and the
justices of the peace are appointed by the governor.
The first attempt to settle Carolina was in 1562, when Adinir.nl
Coligny obtained from Charles IX. of France permission to plant
a colony of Protestants on the coast of Florida. An expedition was
ntted out at the expense of the crown, and placed under the
command of Jean Ribault Fear of the Spaniards perhaps induced
tbem to change their plans, and, entering Port Royal, tlicy landed
on Lemon Island, where they erected a pillar, and afterwards a
tort, which they named,' in honour of the king, Arx Carolina
l^eaving a sufficient number to garrison the fort, Kibault returned
to France. Two years later a second expedition under Laudonniirs.
S O U — S 0 u
289
one of Ribault's men, was fitted out, but on landing at Port Koyal
it found no ti'aces of the former. This colony likewise met with
disaster, being massacred by tlie Spaniards from Florida. It was
not imtil a century Inter that a permanent settlement was made
by the English, who, after the liestoration, began to recognize
their claim to a large territory in the southern district of North
America. In 1662 a grant was obtained from Charles II., and in
1667 au expedition sailed under command of Capt. William Sayle.
They reached Port Royal, where they nitde a settlement, but a few-
years after removed to the west bank of the Ashley, and built a
town which they called, after the English monarch, Charlestown.
Subsequently they again removed to Oyster Point, the present site
of Charleston. (W. SI.)
SOUTHCOTT, JoANN'A (1750-1814), was born in
Devonshire about 1750, and was for a considerable time
a domestic servant. She was originally an adherent of
the Methodists, but, becoming persuaded she possessed
supernatural gifts, she wrote and dictated prophecies in
rhyme, and announced herself as the woman spoken of in
the Apocalypse (ch. xii.), affirming, when beyond the age
of sixty, that she would be delivered of Shiloh on the
19th October 1814. For some days previous tc this she
was attended by her followers night and day, but Shiloh
failed to appear, and it was given out that she was in a
trance. She died of dropsy on the 29th of the same
month. Her followers are said to have numbered over
100,000, and so late as 1860 they were not extinct.
Among her publications, which number over sixty, and are all
equally incoherent in thought and grammar, may be mentioned
Strange Effects of Faith, 1801-2 ; Free Exposition of the Bible,
1804 ; The Book of IVondcrs, 1813-14 ; and Prophecies announcing
Ihe Birth of the Prince of Peace, 1814. A lady named Essam left
large sums of money for printing and publishing the Sacred
Writings of Joanna Sonthcotl. The will was disputed by a niece
on the ground that the writings were blasphemous, but the Court
of Chancery sustained it.
See Roberta, Observations on the Divine Mission of Joanna Southcott, 1807 ;
Reece, Correct Statement of the Circumstances attending the Death of Joanna
Btnthcott, 1S15.
SOUTHEND, a watering-place of Essex, is situated on
the north bank of the Thames, 5 miles west of Shoeburyness,
and by the London, Tilbury, and Southend Railway, 42
miles east of London, with which it is also connected by
steamer. It first sprang into notice from a visit of Queen
Caroline in 1804, and, as it is the nearest watering-place
to London, it is much frequented by excursionists, espe-
cially by the poorer classes. It is clean and well built,
and at Cliff Town there are a number of large villas.
Opposite Cliff Town there is a public garden called the
Shrubbery. The bathing is good, but the tide recedes
with great rapidity and for nearly a mile. The pier,
which i.s 1} miles in length, and on which, there is a tram-
way, permits the approach of steamers at all tides. The
public hall was erected in 1872 at a cost of £3000, and
a mechanics' institution dates from 1881. The Rochford
county court is held every alternate month in the public
hall. A local board of health was established in 186G.
The population of the urban sanitary district (area 3441
acres) in 1871 was 4561, and in 1881 it was 7979.
SOUTHERNS, Thomas (16G0-1746)— "Honest Tom
Southerne," to give the author of The Fatal Marriage the
name by which his contemporaries usually called him —
was a clever craftsman for tho stage, according to the
degenerate tradition of the Restoration dramatists, — with
the eye of a born opportunist for the popular interests of
the hour in so far as they could be turned to histrionic
account, but without deeper seeing of tho functions of tho
drama. Born in Dublin in 1660, he came to London and
entered the Middle Temple in 1678, but only to desert law
very speedily for dramatic authorship. His first play, T/ie
Persian Prince, or the Loyal Brotfier, is a good example,
m its diplomatic reference to passing events and its veiled
compliment to James,' duke of York, of his ready tact as
a playwright. The most important practical result of tho
play, which was remarkably successful on the Rtage, was
an ensign's commission, noteworthy in that it supplied
Southerue with materials for later dramatization. After
an interval of active service more plays followed, and were
produced with equal success ; of these Tlie Fatal Marriagt
(1694), known also by the name of its heroine, Isabella,
has the best claim to remembrance. Its strain of pathetic
quality echoes the later Elizabethans in a way that con-
trasts suggestively with the shallow, if spirited, indecencies
of Southerne's comedies, which, although their author was
commended by Dryden for his purity as a playwright, are
certainly not overweighted with delicacy. Sir Anthony
Love, or the RamhUmj Lady, in which the hero assumes
female disguise without accession of modesty, is a good
example of the rest ; one utterance of its hero, " Every
day a new mistress and a new quarrel," might indeed
serve as a good motto of Restoration comedy in geoeral.
Except to the student, Southerne's work, however, is
hardly of permanent interest. The Southerne of whom
Pope, who ranked him as friend and praised him for his
sterling qualities, remarked in some lines that
" Heaven sent down to raise
The price of prologues and of plays "
exemplifies what ^business tact and dramatic ingenuity can
accomplish, for of real artistic faculty he had little. His
plays resulted, through ingenious management, in a pecun-
iary return which dazzled Dryden and made their author
a wealthy citizen, but they have not the Quality of work
which endures. He died in 1746.
SOUTHEY, CAiiOLrNE (1786-1854), the second wife
of Robert Southey, was born at Lymington, Hants, on
December ' 6th, 1'786. As a girl Caroline Ann Bowles
showed a certain literary and artistic aptitude, the more
remarkable perhaps from the loneliness of her early life
and the morbidly delicate condition of her health,— an
aptitude, however, of no real distinction. When money
difficulties came upon her in middle age she determined
to turn ier talents to account in literature. Her first
venture was the sending anonymously of a narrative
poem called Ellen Fitzarthttr to Southey, and this led to
the acquaintanceship and lifelong friendship which in
1839 culminated in their marriage. Ellen Fitzarthur
(1820) may be taken as typical, in its prosy simplicity, of
the rest of its author's work, which reproduced the studied
unadornment of certain portions of Southcy's and Words-
worth's poetry without that glamour which, especially
with the second of these writers, so often redeemed
simplicity from mere baldness. Mrs Southey's poems
were publi-shed in a collected edition in 1867. Her prose
is on the whole more interesting than her verso, though —
with rare exceptions — infected with like dulncss. Among
her prose writings may be mentioned Chapters on Church-
yards (1829), hot best work; Tales of the Moors (1828):
and Selwyn in Search of a Daughter (1835). Her most
interesting memorial is her correspondence with Southey,
which, somewhat unfairly overlooked in the edition of the
poet's Life and Letters edited by his son, has been pub-
lished by Prof. Dowden in tho Dublin University Press
Series. It was soon after her marriage that her husband's
mental state became hopeless, and from this time till his
death in 1843, and indeed till her own, her life was one
of much suffering. Mrs Southey died at Buckland Cot-
tage, Lymington, on July 20th 1854, two years after the
queen had granted her an annual pension of £200.
Besides tho works already mentioned, slio wrote The Widcu't
Tate, and other Poems, 1822; Solitant J/oiirs (prose and versel,
1826; Tales of the Factories, \S:iZ; The Birtlulay, 1836; Bobin
J/uod, written in conjunction witli Southey, at whoso death this
metrical production was incomjilote.
SOUTHEY, Robert (1774-184.1), was born in lirislol
on the 12th of August 1774. His father, a nntivo of
Somerset, was an unsuccessful draper. To his mother,
xxn. - ^7
290
S O U T H E Y
Margaret Hill, Soutbey owed his buoyant spirits, his
practical sense, and his earliest friends. The first of
these. Miss Tyler, his mother's half-sister, took possession
of him when he was three ; under her care he saw and
heard a great deal of theatres and of acting. His solitary
life in an old maid's household threw him upon his own
resources and developed a taste for reading. He was
seat to several private schools, and had good fortune at
none of them; in 1788 he went to Westminster, where he
was scarcely more fortunate. After a brief sojourn he
was expelled in 1792, because an essay of his on flog-
ging, in a school magazine called The Flagellant, was
resented by Dr Vincent, the head-master. At West-
minster he gained the friendship of two boys who were
faithful to him and helpful throughout his life ; these
were Charles Winn and Grosvenor Bedford. About this
time his father died ; his aunt, however, determined that
he should go to Oxford. He was refused ' at Christ
Church OQ account of the essay in The Flagellant ; but
Balliol gave him a home. At Oxford he led. his own life,
lived in his own thoughts, and got little or nothing from
the university. In 1794 Coleridge dashed at Southey,
took him by storm, and filled his head with plans for
an ideal colony in the wilds. The new society, whose
members were to have all things in common, was to
be called " The Pantisocracy." Their life was to com-'
bine manual labour and domestic bliss ; to attain the
latter, Southey set his affections on a Miss Edith Fricker,
■whose sister married Coleridge. All this was intolerable
to Miss Tyler, and Southey was banished. He and
Coleridge then tried, by lecturing and journalism, to raise
money for their American schemes ; but luckily Southey's
uncle, who had educated him, — Mr HiU, the English
chaplain at Lisbon,^ — advised him to travel. On the 14th
of November 1795, before he started, he was secretly
married to Edith Fricker. On his return from Lisbon
the marriage was acknowledged, and Southey wandered
from one house to another in the south of England. He
tried, or was urged to try, the three professions which are
by courtesy styled " learned " ; it might be more true to
call them the technical, the stereotyped professions.
Southey was scared from all three, — from clericalism by
dogma, from medicine, by the dissecting-room, from law
by its crabbed dulness. In literature alone he found his
proper sphere; and in 1803 he settled down in his life-
long home, Greta Hall, near Keswick. Henceforth his
years were even and uneventful. He wrote and read
■with mechanical, with appalling regularity ; his library
grew to fourteen thousand volumes. He had children,
and lost several ; and his bouse was a refuge for the wife
and family of Coleridge. With Wordsworth and Landor
he formed close friendships. In 1813 he was made poet-
laureate ; and some years before his death he was offered a
baronetcy — which, however, he with good reason declined.
Two great sorrows embittered his life: in 1809 he lost his
eldest boy Herbert, and in 1834 his wife was taken to a
madhouse, whence she came back to die. In 1839 he
married Caroline Bowles. That same year his memory
failed, his speech became uncertain, and his power of
■writing soon went ; softening of the brain had taken irre-
mediable hold of the once tireless intellect. To the last
he would hover round his books and handle them lovingly.
He died on the 21st of March 1843; he is buried, near
his first wife and her children, in Crosthwaite churchyard.
The amoant of Southey's work iu literature is enormous. His
collected verse, with its explan.itory notes, fills teu volumes : his
jirose occupies about lorty. But liis g)'eatest works were left un-
completed, and this, iu some sense, is typical of Southey's whole
achievement in the world of letters: there is always something
unsatisfying, disapi>oiutin^', aliout liiin. He seldom- realized or
seldom found scope for his true beut in lilerahiro. This is most
true of his efforts in verse. In his childhood Southey fell in with
T.isso, Tasso led hiih to Ariosto, and Ariosto to Spenser. These
beautiful, these lu.\uriantly imaginative poets captivated the boy;
and Southey mistook his youthful enthusiasm for an abiding, a life-
long inspiration. His inspiration was not genuinely imaginative ;
he had too large an infusion of prosaic commonplace in his nature
to be a true follower of Ariosto and Spenser. Southey, quite early
in life, resolved to ■write a series of epies on the chief religions of
the world. The subject was dangerous, and one epic is a life's
work ; it is not surprising that the too ambitious poet failed. His
failure is twofold : he was wanting in artistic power and in poetic
sympathy. With regard to the first, he Says of himself, "It was
long before I acijiiired this power," — the jiower of plan and con-
struction,— "not fairly, indeed, till 1 was a'bout five or six and
thirty." The fact is, he never acquired it; he never could coa-
struct a dramatic plot or mould it into artistic details. When his
epics are not wildly impossible they are incurably dull ; at the
best their interest is extrinsic rather than intj^insic, pervaded by
the glamour of historic romance rather than the light of pure
poetry. And a man is not fit to write epics on the religions of the
world when he can say of the prophet who has satisfied the gravest
races of mankind, — Mohammed was "far more remarkable for
audacious profligacy thau for any intellectual endowments,"
Southey's age was bounded, and had little sympathy for anything
beyond itself and its own narrow interests; it was violently Tory,
narrowly Protestant, defiantly English. And in his verse Southey
truthfully reflects the feeling of his age. This led him to say
dreadful things .about the Eastern religions in his prefaces to
fCchama and Thalaba; it made Joan of Arc an incongruous blend-
ing of Kousseau, of Horace Walpole's romanticism, of the Surrey
theatre, and of Lady Huntingdon; it gave Madoc, a Celt of the
12th century, the mind of a cold middle-class Saxon evangelical of
the regency. In the shorter pieces Southey's commonplace asserts
itself, and if that does not meet us we find his bondage to his gener-
ation. This bondage is quite abject in The Vision of JudgTncnf ',
Southey's heavenly personages are British Philistines from Old
Sarum, magnified but not transformed, engaged in endless placid
adoration of an infinite George III. When Soutliey sets himself
to fondle the regent, he loses all sense of measure and propriety.
In the Funeral Ode to the Princess he can assert of her father —
"Such the proud, the virtuous story,
' Such the great, the endless glory
Of her father's splendid reign ! "
Tliia famous ode, "with the grace and beauty of which," Sir
Henry Taylor thinks, "no facts could compete," is, it must be said,
in many of its couplets, too like the average hymn. The twang of
the hymn spoils two of Southey's best pieces. TheHollyTree ends —
"That in my age as cheerful I might be
As the green winter of the holly U'ee."
The last lines of Stanzas Written in his Library, a poem near to
the book-lover, are painfully like a rhyme on a tomb-stone : —
" ■i'et leaving here a name, I trust.
That will not perish in the dust..*'
Some of his subjects, The Pact's Pilgrimage, for instance, he wonld
have treated delightfully in prose ; others, like the Botany Say
Eclogues, Songs to American Tndiayis, T)ie Pig, Tlic Dancing Bear,
should never have been written. The Retrospect, of which this
is a fau" specimen, —
" There where my little bands were wont to rear
Witli pride the earliest salad of the year," —
a living critic and biographer of'Southey has compared to Th*
Descried Village. Southey was not in the hlg'aest sense of the
word a poet ; but if we turn from his verse to his prose we are in
a different world ; there Southey is a master in his art, who works
at ease with grace and skill. "Southey's prose is perfect," said
Byron ; and, if we do not stretch the " perfect," or take it to mean
the supreme perfection of the very greatest masters of style, Byron
■was right. For good prose, plain, unassuming, natural, he is not
surpassed in English. In his charming story of The Three Bears
a phrase is often used which exactly describes his style ; when the
old lady finds what is neither too hot nor too cold, too large nor
too small, she says it is "just right." Southey's prose is "just
right," — it expresses his meaning ■with simple and admirable
precision. In his prose and in his criticism'we of a later generation
could do worse than learn from Southey , his sober writing is an
excellent corrective for our prevaiUng faults. In prose the real
Southey emerges from his conventionality. His interest and his
curiosity are unbounded, as liis Common- Place Book will prove;
his stores of learning are at his readers' service, as in The Doctor.;
his patriotism is vigorous and healthy, as in the Life of Nelson ; his
criticism is sound, as in the Lives of Cowper and of Wesley. But
the truest Southey is in his LetUrs : the loyal, gallant, tender-
hearted, faithful man that he was is revealed in them. Southey's
fame will not rest, as he supposed, on his verse ; all his faults are
in that, — all his own weakness, and all the false taste of his age.'
But his prose assures him a high place in English literature, though
not a place in the first rnnk evert of prose writers. '
S 0 U — S 0 z
291
SOUTHPORT, a municipal borough of Lancashire,
England, and a favourite seaside resort, is situated
between the estuaries of the Mersey and the Ribble,
18 miles north of Liverpool, and is a termina^ station of
three railway systems. Its foreshore consists of a great
expanse of firm, bright sands, to the radiation of heat from
which is attributed the mildness of its winter climate.
Its proximity to Liverpool, Manchester, and other large
manufacturing towns has drawn to it a large resident
population, and its visitors, in quest of health and pleasure,
number many thousands annually. Its spacious streets,
laid out at right angles to each other, are bordered with
trees and ornamental gardens. The promenade along the
shore is two miles ia length; in its centre is the pier, a
mile long, down which tramcars are drawn by a stationary
steam-engine. Other facilities for outdoor enjoyment
are provided in Hesketh Park (presented to the town
by the late Rev. Charles Hesketh, rector of North Meols,
and one of the lords of the manor), the Botanic Gardens,
Kew Gardens, and the Winter Gardens. The last, laid out
at a cost of ,£130,000, include a large conservatory, a fine
enclosed promenade, a theatre, and an aquarium. There
is also a glaciarium, or skating and curling hall, in which
those amusements may be practised on real ice all the year
round. The Victoria baths were erected in 1870 at an
expenditure of £50,000. The principal public .buildings
are the town-hall, the Cambridge hall (used for concerts
&c.), and an extensive range of markets, erected in 1881
at a cost of £40,000. Among the benevolent institutions
are a general infirmary, a convalescent hospital, a sana-
torium for children, and a.neuro-hydropathic hospital.
Southport has also a free library and art gallery (the gift'
of the late William Atkinson), a literary and philosophical
institute, and a college (Trinity Hall) for the education of
the daughters of Wesleyan ministers; and the town council
are now (1886) engaged in building a museum and schools
of science and art. The first house in Southport (an inn for
the reception of sea-bathers) was built in 1791, and soon
after other houses, were erected on the site now known as
Lord Street. The population, which in 1809 was 100,
had increased in 1851 to 4766, and in 1861 to 10,097.
In 1867 the town received a charter of incorporation,
and since then its progress has been remarkable. In 1871
the population of the borough (area 7526 acres) was
18,086 ; iu 1881 this had grown to 32,206, and in 1886
it was estimated at 36,596. Its sanitary arrangements
are very perfect, and the water supply is abundant and
excellent. Southport gives its name to one of the parlia-
mentary divisions of South-West Lancashire.
SOUTH SHIELDS. See Shtelds, South
SOUTHWARK. See London.
SOUVESTRE, £mile (1806-1854), a French noveUst
of merit, was born on April 15, 1806, and died on July 5,
1854. He was a native of Morlaix, and his affection for
Brittany coloured most of his best work in after life. Ho
had rather a chequered career of employment besides his
literary pursuits. He was by turns a bookseller's assistant,
a private schoolmaster, a journalist, and profcsseur at the
grammar schools of Brest and Mulhouse. In . 1848 he
received what may sound to English ears the odd appoint-
ment of "professor of administrative style" in a school
founded for tho instruction of ciVil Servants. His literary
work, however,- was his labour of love. Ho began like
most Frenchmen with tho drama, but was never very
successful with it In novel-writing he did much better,
and with Jules Sandcau (though on a somewhat lower
level of writing, construction, and grasp of character) may
bo said to rank as the chief recent French novelist who
deliberately aimed at making the novel an engine of moral
instruction. With less genius and less sense of art than
Sandeau, he did not always escape the reproach of dulness.
His best work is undoubtedly to be found in the charming
Demiers Bretons (1835-1837) and Foyer Breton (1844)
(where the folklore and natural features of his native
province are worked up into story form, with a success
hardly excelled by any other writer), and in Un PhUosojihe
sous les Toils, which received the honour of an academic
prize in the year 1851. This Souvestre deserved, not
merely for his sentiments, but for his easy and agreeable
style. He also wrote a not inconsiderable number of
other works — novels, dramas, essays, and miscellanies.
SOWERBY, James (1757-1822), was at first a painter,
but soon applied his art to the illustration of botanical
and conchological works, which are still highly valued,
especially his English Botany (12 vols. 8vo, 1846). His
son George (1788-1854) followed in his father's steps,
and produced a monumental work on conchology.
SO^\^iRBY. BRIDGE, a manufacturing town in the
West Riding of Yorkshire, is situated on both sides of the
river Calder, at the termination of the Rochdale Canal,
and on the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway, 2 miles
south-west of Halifax, and 8 north-west of Huddersfield.
Christ church, dating from 1526, was rebuilt in 1819.
The other public buildings include tho town-hall (1857)
and the local board offices, opened in 1878, attached to
which are the public baths and the slaughter-houses. The
town is almost entirely the growth of the last fifty years.
It possesses worsted and cotton mills, iron-works, dye-
works, and chemical works. The population of the urban
sanitary district (area 536 acres) in 1871 was 7041, and
in 1881 it was 8724.
SOZOMEN, church historian, jaermias Salamanes
(Salaminius) Sozomenus came of a wealthy family of
Palestine, and it is exceedingly probable that he himself
was born (not later than 400 a.d.) and brought up there,
— in Gaza or the neighbourhood. What he has to tell us
of the history of South Palestine was derived from oral
tradition. His grandfather, as he himself tells us, lived
at Bethel near Gaza, and became a Christian, probably
under Constantius, through the influence of Hilarion, who
among his other miracles had miraculously healed an
acquaintance of the grandfather, one Alaphion. Both men
with their families became zealous Christians and conspicu-
ous for their virtues. The historian's grandfather became
within his own circle a highly esteemed interpreter of
Scripture, and held fast his profession even in the time of
Julian. The descendants of the wealthy Alaphion founded
churches and convents in the district, and were particularly
active in promoting monasticism. Sozomen himself had
conversed with one of these, a very old man. He was
brought up under monkish influences; so he expressly
states, and his history boars him out. As a man he
retained the impressions of his youth, and his great work
was to be also a monument of his reverence for the monks
in general and for the disciples of Hilarion in particular.
He became a lawyer and advocate in Constantinople,
where as such he wrote his 'EKKXi^crtao-roo; 'Icrrwpia. about
the year 440. The nine books of which it is composed
begin with Constantino and come down to tho death of
Honorius (423) ; but according to his own statement the
author intended to continue it as far as the year 439.
From Sozomen himself (iv. 17), and statements of his
excerptors Nicephorus and Thcophanes, it can bo made out
that the work did actually couio down to that year, and
that consequently it has reached us only in a somewhat
mutilated condition, at least half a book being ^vanliDg.
A flattering and bombastic dedication to ThecMiosiu-i LL
is profiled. When compared with tlio history of Sooratw
(j.c), it is plainly seen to bo a plu^;iari3m from that work,
and that on a large scale. Some tbrDo-foorths of th«
292
S P A — S P A
materials, essentially fn the same arrangement, nave simply
been appropriated from his predecessor without his being
so much as named even once, the other sources to which
Sozomen was indebted being, however, expressly cited.
All that can be said to the credit of Sozomen is that he
has been himself at the trouble to refer to the principal
sources used by Socrates (Rufinus, Eusebiiis, Athanasius,
Sabinus, the collections of epistles, Palladius), and has not
unfrequently supplemented Socrates from them, and also
that he has adduced some new authorities, in particular
sources relating to Christianity in Persia, Arian history,
monkish histories, the Vita Martini of Sulpicius, books of
Hilarius; the whole of the ninth book is entirely drawn
from Olympiodorus.
It is difficult to discern the motive for a work which
was merely an enlarged edition of Socrates. But it is
probable that Sozomen did not approve of Socrates's
freer attitude towards Greek science, and that he wished
to present a picture in which the clergy should be still
further glorified, and, above all, monasticism brought into
still stronger prominence. In Sozomen everything is a
shade more ecclesiastical — but only a shade — than in
Socrates. Perhaps also he wrote for a different circle, —
say, the monks in Palestine, — and could be sure that in
it the work of his predecessor would not be known.
Sozomen is everywhere an inferior Socrates. What in Socrates
still betrays some vestiges of historical sense, his moderation, his
reserve in q^nestions of dogma, his impartiality, — all this is wanting
in Sozomen. In many cases he has repeated the exact words of
Socrates, but with him they have passed almost into mere phrases.
The inferiority of Sozomen to Socrates as an historian appears as
much in the manner in which he transcribed him as in those
passages where he introduces something new. The chronological
scrupulosity of the earlier writer has made no impression on his
follower; he has either wholly omitted or inaccurately repeated the
chronological data. Ho writes more wordily and diffusely. In his
characterizations of persons, borrowed from Socrates, he is more
dull and colourless. After Socrates he has indeed repeated the
caution not to be too rash in discerning the liuger of God ; but his
way of looking at things is throughout mean and rustic. Two
souls inhabit his book : one, the better, is bonowed from Socrates ;
another, the worse, is his own. Wherever he abandons his leader he
frequently falls into mere retailing of stories, and prostrates him-
self in reverence before the poorest products of the religious fantasy
of a degenerating age. Evidence of a boundless credulity with
Tijgard to all soVts of monkish fables is to be met with everywhere.
Raisings of the dead are quite common occun'ences with him, and
he repeatedly gives accounts of enormous dragons. In the finding
of the bones of saints he takes the highest interest, and even be-
lieves in the rediscovery of the tombs of the Old Testament prophets.
Where we still possess Socrates's account that of Sozomen very sel-
dom has any consequence, but some of the additions he has made are
instructive and important. The number of new acts of councils
introduced by him is small His monkish histories are as sources
almost utterly valueless ; his account of the Christians in Persia
absolutely swarms with mistakes. It must, however, be noted
that for the period from Theodosius I. onward he has emancipated
himself more fully from Socrates and has followed Olympiodorus
in part, partly also oral tradition ; here accordingly his statements
possess greater value.
Editions and Literature. — Soci^tes and Sozomen hare been edited by Stephanas
(Paris, 1544; Geneva, )61-2), Valesias (Paris, 1659-73), Reading (Cambridge.
1720), Hossey (Oxford, 1S53, i860). They aie also to be found in vol. Ixrii. of
Miene's Patrotogta, and thei-e is an Oxford school edition (1844) aft^r Readinff.
Bricht edited Sociates actordiilK to the text of Hussey in 1878. There are
" Testimonia Vetenim "in Valesius ; and Nolte's papei-s iir Tubing. Quartahchr.,
(1859) p. 618 sq., (1861) p. 417 sq., conuin emendations in Hussey's test, and
notes towai-ds the histor>* of the test and editions ; see also Overbeck, in Theol,
Lit. Ztung. (1879), No. 20.
Special studies have been made by Baronius, Mlrsns, Labb^, Valesius,
Hallois. Scaliger, Ceillier, Cave, Pupin, Pagi, Ittig, Tlllemont, Walch, Gibbon,
Schroeckh, Lardner. See also Vo&s, De Bistor. Grxcis ; Fabricius-Harless,
Bibliotti. Gr., vol vii.; Rbssler, Bibtiothek d. Ktrchenvater\ Holzhauseo, De
Fontibus guibus Socr., Soz., ac Theod, in scribenda Historia Sacra usi sunt,
(Gottingen. 1825; Staudlin, Oesch. u. Lit. d. K.-O., Hanover, 1827; Baiir,
Epochen (1825); Harnaclc, "Socr. u. Soz.," In Herzog-Piitfs Theol. 'znctjtl'.
Detached details aie given also in worlis upon Constantine (Mansn), Julian
(Miiclie, Rode, Neumann, Kendall). Damasus (Rade), Arianism (Gwatkiii's
Studies of Arianism, ]S82, gives a severe but trustworthy criticism of Rufinud
and discusses the manner in which Socrates was related to him), the emperors
after Julian (De Broglie, RIchter, Clinton, the Weltgeschichte.of Ranke, the
Oesch. d. Kaiser Arcadius u. Theod. II., 1885, of Giilderipeunins'''and the Kaiser
Theodosius d. Or., Halle, 1878, of Iffland, the last-named won: discussing the
•elation of Socrates to Sozomen), the barbarian migrarinns (Wietersheim, Dahn),
the Goths (Waitz, Bessel. Kauffniann, and Scott's Ulfilas, 1885). Lastly, re-
lerence may bo made to Roacnsteiii, Forsch, t. deutsch. Gesch. vol. i. krit.
Vnlersuch. iib. d. Verhaltniss zu Ofympioaor, ^,oilmus, u. Soz.; Sanazin, Z>*
Theodora Leetore, Theophanis Fonte Prxcipuo, 1881 (treats of the relation between
SocratfS and Sozomen, and of the completeness of the former's work); Jeep,
Queltenuntersuch, z, d. griech. Kirchenhistorikem, Leipsic, 1884. (A. HA.)
SPA, a watering-place of Belgium, in the province of
Liege, 20 miles by rail from Liege via Pepinster, is bgauti-
fuWy situated, at a height of 814 feet above the sea, in the
-A'alley of the Wayai (a small sub-tributary of the Meuse).
On the north and north-east it is protected by the wpoded
range of hills known as the Spaloumont, or in its several
parts as Bois de la Reid, Bois du Chiencul, &c. ; and on the
south are a number of beautiful ravines cut in the Primary
rocks of the district by small affluents of the Wayai. Much
of the charm of the place is due to the promenades and
drives along the sides and crests of the hills. The principal
mineral spring called the Pouhon (a local word for " well ")
is enclosed in a pump-room in the centre of the Place Pierre
le Grand. Public baths, fed by chalybeate streams collected
in a remarkable reservoir at the hamlet of Nivese, occupy a
large building in Place Royale, erected in 1868 ; and in the
same neighbourhood is the casino, with ball and concert
rooms. An English church was built in 1872-76. A local
industry is the production of fancy articles in lacquered wood
(bois de Spa). A liqueur resembling Chartreuse is also
manufactured under the name of "elixir de Spa." The
population of the commune was 6930 in 1884. Several
springs in the neighbouring district are nearly as celebrated
as those of Spa proper; the Sauvenifere waters, supposed to
lie eflfective against sterility, are half a mile distant.
Spa, said to derive its name from a Walloon word, Espa, for
" fountain, " was practically founded by a certain Wolf, or Collin
le Loup, iron-master of Breda, who had obtained benefit from the
waters, and purchased the piece of ground containing the Pouhon
spring from Erard de la Marck, bishop of Liege, in 1326. At the
beginning of the 15th century the little to-ivn numbered 250 houses.
The European celebrity of the waters dates from the 16th century,
when they were drunk by the duke of Nevers, Margaret of Valois,
Henry III. of France, and Alexander Famese, asd the fashion of
visiting Spa became thoroughly established in the 18th century.
The French Revolution, and, as far as English visitors were con-
cerned, the attractions of the German watering-places made known
by Sir Francis Head, for a time turned the tide else\vhere ; but since
the middle of the century Spa has taken a new lease of prosperity.
SPAGNA, Lo (? -c. 1529), the usual designation (due
to his Spanish origin) of Giovanni di Pietro, one of the
chief followers of Perugino. Nothing whatever is known
of his early life, or of the circumstances under which he
became a member of the Perugian school. A large number
of panel pfctures by him exist, of which some are painted
with much grace and refinement of toucli. There is,
however, a very marked absence of individuality about his
stj'le, which seems like an imitation of the earliest manner
of Raphael and that of Pinturicchio in a weaker and less
virile form. The chief of his numerous panel paintings
are the Nativity, in the Vatican, and the Adoration of
the Magi, at Berlin. In 1510 Lo Spagna executed many
frescos at Todi, and in 1512 several other mural paintings
in and near Trevi. His most important works were frescos
at Assisi and Spoleto, of which some exist in good jireser-
vatioii. He received the freedom of the city of Spoleto in
1516, as a reward for his work there. As is so often the
case, Lo Spagna's frescos reach a much higher standard of
'merit than his panel pictures. The museum of the Capitol
in Rome now possesses a very beautiful series of life-sized
fresco figures by him, representing Apollo and the Nine
Muses. These are drawn with a strong feeling for grace
of pose and beauty of expression, and are very remarkable
for the delicate refinement of their colouring ; in style they
strongly recall Raphael's earliest manner. Lo Spagna was
alive in 1528, but he appears to have died before 1530. a.-*
in that year a pupil of his named Doni completed a irauo
in S. Jacopo, near Spoleto, which Lo Spagna had begun
SPAGNOLETTO. See Ribek>
293
SPAIN
PART L— GEOGRAPHY AND STATISTICS.
SPAIN, a country rather more than twice the size of
Great Britain including the adjacent small islands,
constitutes in its mainland portion about eleven-thirteenths
of the Iberian Peninsula, and has in addition an insular
area (in the Balearic and Canary Islands) of nearly 5000
square miles. On all sides except that of Portugal the
boundaries are natural, the Peninsula being separated
from France by the Pyrenees and on every other side
being surrounded by the sea. On the side of Portugal a
tract of inhospitable country led originally to the separa-
tion between the two kingdoms, inasmuch as it caused
the reconquest of the comparatively populous maritime
tracts from the Moors to be carried out ipdependently of
that of the eastern kingdoms, which were also well
peopled. The absence of any such means of intercom-
munication as navigable rivers afford has favoured the
continuance of this isolation. The precise line of this
western frontier is formed for a considerable length by
portions of the chief rivers or by small tributaries, and on
the north (between Portugal and Galicia) it is determined
to a large extent by small mountain ranges. The British
rock of Gibraltar, in the extreme south of the peninsula,
is separated from Spain by a low isthmus known as the
Neutral Ground. The coast-line on the north and north-
west is everywhere steep and cUffy. On the north there
are numerous small indentations, many of which form
more or less convenient harbours, but the current flowing
along the coast from the west often leaves in the stiller
water at their mouths obstructive bars. The best
harbours are to bo found on the rias or fiord-like indenta-
tions in the west of Galicia, where high tides keep the
inlets well scoured ; here occur the fine natural harbours
of Pontevedra and Vigo, Coruua and Ferrol, the last one
of the chief stations of the Spanish fleet. Less varied in
outline but more varied in character are the Spanish
coasts on the south and east. Flat coasts prevail from
the frontier of Portugal to the Straits of Gibraltar.
Between the mouth of the Rio Tinto and that of the
Guadalquivir they are sandy and lined by a series of sand-
dunes (the tract known as the Arenas Gordas). Next
follows a marshy tract at the mouth of the Guadalquivir,
after which the coastline becomes more varied, and
includes the fine Bay of Cadiz. From the Straits of
Gibraltar a bold and rocky coast is continued almost
!right round to Cape Palos, a little beyond the fine natural
harbour of Cartagena. North of Cape Palos a line of
flat coast, beginning with the narrow strip which cuts off
the lagoon called the Mar Menor from the Mediterranean,
bounds half of the province of Alicante, but in its northern
half this province, becoming mountainous, runs out to the
lofty hpadland of Capo Nao. The whole coast of the ]5ay
of Valencia is low and ill-provided with harbours ; and
along the east of Catalonia stretches of steep and rocky
coast alternate with others of an opposite character.-
The surface of Spain is remarkable at once for its strik-
ing contrasts and its vast expanses of dreary uniformity.
There are mountains rising with Alpine grandeur above
the snow-line, but often sheltering rich and magnificent
valleys at their base. Naked walls of white limestone
tower above dark woods of cork, oak, and olive. In other
parts, as in the Basque country, in Galicia, in the Serrania
do Cuenca (between the head waters of the Tagus and
those of the Jucar), in the Albarraciii (between the head
waters of the Tagus and those of the Guadalaviar), there
are cctonsive tracts of undulating forest-clad hill country,
and almost contiguous to these there are apparently
boundless plains, or tracts of level tableland, some almost
uninhabitable, and some 'streaked with canals and richly
cultivated — like the Requena of Valencia. While, again,
continuous mountain ranges and broad plains and table-
lands give the prevailing character to the scenery, there
are here and there, on the one hand, lofty isolated peaks,
landmarks for a wide distance round, such as Monseuy,,
Monserrat, and Mont Sant in Catalonia, the PeiJa Golosa
in Valencia, Moncayoon the .borders of Aragon and Old
Castile, and, on the other hand, small secluded valleys,
such as those of Vich and Olot among the Catalonian
Pyrenees.
I'he greater part of the interior of Spain is composed of
a tableland bounded by the Cantabrian Mountains in the
north and the Sierra Morena in the south, and divided
into two by a series of mountain ranges stretching on the
whole from east to west. The northern half of the table-
land, made up of the provinces of Leon and Old Castile,
has an average elevation estimated at about 2700 feet,
while the southern half, made up of Estremadura and New
Castile, is slightly lower — about 2600 feet. On all sides
the tableland as a whole is remarkably isolated, and hence
the passes on its boundary and the river valle}^ that lead
up to it from the surrounding plains are geographical
features of peculiar importance. The isolation on the
side of Portugal, where the tableland gradually sinks to
the sea in a succession of terraces, has already been
referred to. On the north-west the valley of the Sil and
a series of valleys further south, along both of which
military roads have been carried from an early period,
open up communication between Leon and the hill country
of Galicia; which explains why this province was united
to Leon even before the conquest of Portugal from the
Moors. The passes across the Cantabrian Mountains in
the north are tolerably numerous, and four of them are
already crossed by railways. The two most remarkable
are the Pass of PAjares, across which winds the railway
from Leon to Oviedo and the seaport of Gijon, and that
of Reinosa leading down to the deep valley of the
Besaya, and now crossed by the railway from Valladolid
to Santander. In its eastern section the chain is crossed by
the railways from Burgos to Bilbao and San Sebastian, the
latter of which winds through the wild and romantic gorge
of Pancorbo (in the north-east of the province of liurgos)
before it traverses the Cantabrian chain at Idiazabal. ^
On the north cast and east, where the edge of the
tableland sweeps round in a wide curve, the surface sinks
on the whole in broad terraces to the valley of the Ebro
and the Bay of Valencia, and is crowned here and there
by more or less isolated mountains, some of which have
been already mentioned. On the north-east by far the
most important communication with the Ebro valley is
formed by the valley of the Jalon, which has thus always
formed a military route of the highest consequence, and
which is novr traversed by tlie railway from Madrid
to Saragossa. Further south the mountains clustered on
the east of the tableland (Albarracin, Serrania do Cuenca)
render . direct communication between Valencia and
Madrid extremely diflicult, and the principal communica-
tions with the east and southeast are- effected where ,the
southern tableland of La Mancha merges in the hill
country which connects the interior of Spain with the
Sierra Nevada.
In the south the descent Iruai the tableluud to th*.
294
SPAIN
[physical features.
valley of the Guadalquivir is again comparatively gradual,
but even here in the eastern half of the Sierra Morena
the passes are few, the most important being the Puerto
de Desperiaperros, where the Rio Magaiia has cut for
itself a ,deep gorge through which the railway now
ascends from Andalusia to Madrid. Between Andalusia
and Estremadura farther west the communication is freer,
the Sierra Morena being there broken up into series of
small chains.
Of the mountains belonging to the tableland the most
continuous ' are those of the Cantabrian chain, which
stretches for the most part from east to west, parallel to
the Bay of Biscay, but ultimately bends round towards
the south between Leon and Galicia. ' Almost everywhere
it consists of two parallel ranges, the higher of which, the
more southerly, is the immediate continuation of the
Pyrenees. The highest summits of the chain belong to
the Jura limestones of the Penas de Europa, on the
borders of the provinces of Santander, Oviedo, Leon, and
Palencia. The highest of all is the Torre de Ceredo,
which attains the height of at least 8760 feet, and next
is the Peiia Prieta (8300 feet). At the sources of the
Sil the main chain divides into two branches, enclosing
the fertile and thickly-populated district known as El
Vierzo, once the bed of a lake, now watered by the stream
just mentioned and its tributaries. The whole chain is
remarkable for its intricate ramifications and its wild
grandeur, but, as already indicated, is not so much of a
barrier to communication as might be expected from its
general aspect. Besides the railways above mentioned it
is crossed at many points by bridle-paths and roads.
A peculiar feature of the chain and the neighbouring
parts of the tableland is formed by the parameras or
isolated plateaus, surrounded by steep rocky mountains,
sometimes even by walls of naked rock. Among the larger
of these are the bleak districts of Siguenza and Soria,
round the headwaters of the Duero, ^-districts which
separate the mountains of the so-called Iberian system on
the north-east of the tableland from the eastern portion of
Central the central mountain chains of the peninsula. Of these
moun- chains, to "which Spanish geographers give the name
ch'^s Carpetano-Vetonica, the most easterly is the Sierra de
Guadarrama, the general trend of which is from south-
west to north-east. It is the Montes Carpetani of the
ancients, and a portion of it (due north of Madrid) still
bears the name of Carpetanos. Composed almost entirely
of granite, it has an aspect when seen from a distance
highly characteristic of the mountains of the Iberian
Peninsula in general, presenting the appearance of a saw-
like ridge {sierra) broken up into numerous sections. Its
mean height is aljout 5250 feet, and near its centre it has
three summits (the highest named the Pico de Peiialara)
rising to the height of nearly 8000 feet.
A region with a highly irregular surface, filled with
hills and parameras, separates this sierra from the Sierra
de Credos farther west. This is the loftiest and grandest
sierra in the whole series. Its culminating point, the Plaza
de Almanzor, attains the height of 8725 feet, not far short
of that of the highest Cantabrian summits. Its general
trend is east and west; towards the south it sinks
precipitously, and on the north it descends with a some-
what more gentle slope towards the longitudinal vaOeys of
the Tormes and Alberche which separate it from another
rugged mountain range, forming the southern boundary of
the paramera of Avila. On the west another rough and
liilly tract, similar to that which divides it from the Sierra
de Guadarrama in the east, separates it from the Sierra de
Gata, the westernmost and the lowest of the Spanish sierras
belonging to the series. These hilly intervals between the
•nore continuous sierras greatly facilitate the communica-
tion between the northern and southern halves of the
Spanish tableland. The Guadarrama is indeed crossed
by three good pass-roads, and even the Sierra de Gredos
has a road across it connecting Avila with Talavera de la
Keina by the Puerto del Pico ; but for the most part there
are only bridle-paths across the sierras, and up to the
present date not a single railway crosses any one of the
sierras directly. The only railway crossing the central
system of mountains is that from Madrid to Avila, which
traverses the interval between the Sierras de Gredos and
Guadarrama, passing through numerous tunnels on the
way. A railway from Madrid to Segovia to cross the
latter sierra at the Puerto de Navacerrada (5830 feet),' the
pass at present crossed by the principal high road across
these mountains, is now (1886) in course of construction.
On the southern half of the tableland a shorter series
of sierras, consisting of the Montes de Toledo in the east
(highest elevation 4600 feet) and the Sierra de Guadalupe
in the west (highest elevation 5100 feet), separates the
basins of the Tagus and Guadiana. The southern system Sierra
of mountains bounding the Iberian tableland — the Sierra '"■^^*
Morena — is even less of a continuous chain than the two
systems last described. As already intimated, its least
continuous portion is in the west. In the east and middle
portion it is composed of a countless number of irregularly-
disposed undulating mountains all nearly equal in height.
Even more important than the mountains bounding or
crossing the tableland are those in the north-east and in
the south, which are connected with the tableland only at
their extremi(;ie3. The former are the Pyeenees {q.v.),
the latter are the Sierra Nevada, and the coast ranges still ^ierra
farther south. The Sierra Nevada, or "snowy sierra," is ^ *^
a well-defined chain, between 50 and 60 miles in length,
and about 25 miles in breadth, situated to the south of
the valley of the Guadalquivir, and stretching from the
upper part of the vaUey of the Jenil in the west to the
deep xvaliey of the Almeria in the east. It is composed
chiefly of soft micaceous schists, sinking precipitously
down on the north, but sloping more gently to the south
and south-east. Its culminating summit, the Cerro d6
Mulahacen (11,660 feet), is the highest in Spain, and the
range contains several other peaks upwards of 10,000 feet
in height, and above the limit of perpetual snow. On both
sides deep transverse valleys (barrancas) follow one another
in dose succession, in many cases with round basin-shaped
heads, like the cirques of the Pyrenees. In many of these
cirques repose alpius lakes, and in one of them, the Corral
de Veleta, there is even 12. small glacier, the most southerly
in Europe. On the south tiis transverse valleys of the
Sierra Nevada open into the mountainous longitudinal
valley of the Alpujarras, into which open also on the
other side the transverse valleys from tLs most easterly of
the coast sierras, the Sierra Contraviesa and the Sierra de Sierr»*
Almijara. The latter are continued farther west l-j the coast
Sierra de Albania and Sierra de Abdalajiz. Immediately
to the west' of the latter sierra lies the gorge of the Guadal-
horce, which now affords a passage for the railway from
Malaga to Cordova ; and beyond that gorge, to the west
and south-west, the Serrania de Ronda, a mountain group
difiicult of access, stretches out its sierras in all directions.
To Spanish geographers the coast ranges just mentioned
are known collectively as the Sierra Penibetica. North-
east of the Sierra Nevada two small ranges, Alcaraz and La
Sagra, rise with remarkable abruptness from the plateau
of Murcia, where it merges in that of the interior.
The only two important lowland valleys of Spain arc
those of the Ebro and the Guadalquivir. The former
occupies the angle in the north-east Ijetween the Pyrenees
' About 3700 feet above the level of Madrid, 2700 feet above tl.at
of Sejiuvia.
MOUNTAIN'S ANP RIVERS.]
S P A I JN
295
and tlie central taoieiana, and is divided by ranges of
Ueiehts proceeding on the one side from the Pyrenees, on
the other from the base of the Moncayo, into two portions.
The uppermost of these, a plateau of between 1000
and 1300 feet above sea-level, is only about oue-fourth of
the size of the remaining portion, which is chiefly lowland,
but is cut off from the coast by a highland tract connect-
ing the interior tableland with spurs from the Pyrenees, j
The Guadalquivir basin is likewise divided by the con-
figui'ation of the ground into a small upper pc/rtt. ' '-of con-
siderable elevation and a much larger lower portion mainly
lowland, the latter composed from Seville downwards of a
perfectly level and to a large extent unhealthy alluvium
(las marismas). The division between these two sections
is indicated by the change in the course of the main stream
from a due westerly to a more south-westerly direction.
The main water-parting of the peninsula is everywhere
near the edge of the tableland on the north, east, and
south, and hence describes a semicircle with the convexity
to the east. The Ebro alone of the great rivers flows into
the Mediterranean. The following table gives the length
of the principal Iberian rivers, with the area of their
basins, — the length according to different authorities, the
area of the basins according to Strelbitsky, whose measure-
ments of area appear to be, more trustworthy than those
made by him of the length of rivers : —
Length in English Miles.
Area in
Sqiiaie
Milex.
Wagner.
nitter.
Strelbitsky.
Ebro
442
452
665
510
337
416
507
553
490
350
470
485
566
316
374
38,580
36,710
31,865
25,300
21,580
Tagus
Guadalquivir.. ..
With the exception of the Guadalquivir, none of the
Iberian rivers is of great service for inland navigation, so
far as they lie within the Spanish frontier. On t"je other
hand, those of the east and south are of grea' value for
irrigation, and the Jucar and Segura in the south-east are
employed in floating timber from the Serrania de Cuenca.
The Ebro and ' Tagcts are described in separate
articles (q.v.).
Tlie Miflo (Portug. Minho, the ^finius of the Romans) is
formed by tlio union of two small streams in the north of the
province of Lugo, and llowa Srst southwards, tlieu ou the whole
south-westwards to the Atlantic, forming in the lower part of its
course the boundary between Spain and Portugal. It becomes
navigable for small vessels at Salvaterra, 25 miles above its mouth.
Large vessels cannot cross the bar at its mouth. Its only important
tributary is the Sil (left), which at the confluence is the larger river
of t1io two.
The Duero (Portug. Douro, the Durius of the Romans) emerges
from the rock as a small stream among the mountains of Urbion
on the borders of the provinces of Logrofio and Soria, and, after
descriljing a wido sweep to the east, flows westwards across the
northern half of the Spanish tableland and across Portugal. For
.1 distance of jiearly 60 miles it forms the boundary between the
two countries. ' It begius to be navigable 80 miles above its mouth,
but sea-going vessels ascend only to Oporto, and even so far, on
iccount of a bar at the mouth, only at high tide. The principal
tributaries on the right are the Pisuerra and Esla, on the left
the Adaja, Tonnes, and Coa (the last in Portugal).
The Gnadiana (i.e., ifddi Ana, the Anas of the ancients) was
Ion? believed to take its rise in the distiict known as the Campo
de Monticl, where a .string of small lakes known as the Lagunas do
Kuideia (partly in Ciudad Real, partly in Albacete) are connected
by a stream which, on leaving the hist of them, flows north-westwards
towards the Zancara and then disappears within two or three miles
of that liver. About 22 miles to the south-west of the point of
disappearance the stream was believed to re-cmergo in the form of
several large springs which form a number of lakes at no great
distance from the Zancara, and these lakes arc hence known as the
"eyes of the Guadiana" {los ojos de Giuxdiana). The sm.all stream
issuing from them is known ns the Guadiana and soon joins the
<,inraia. It lias now been ascertained, however, that the stream
which di.'^appears higher uji can have no such course, but that
in fact its waters flow or trickle undergi'ound to the Zancara itself,
wliich is therefore entitled to be regarded as the upper Guadiana.
It has its source not far from that of the Jucar in the east of the
plateau of La Mancha, and flows westwards till, under the name
of the Guadiana, it turns south-south-west ou the Portuguese
frontier. In piercing the Sierra Iforena it forms a scries of foam-
ing rapids, and it begius to be navigable only at Mcrtola, about 42
miles above its moutli.
The Guadalquivir (>.c., JFddicl-Kebir, "the great river," the
JSmtis of the ancients), though the shortest of the great rivers of the
Peninsula, is the only one that at all seasons Of the year is a full-
bodied stream, being fed in winter by the rains, in summer by the
melting of the snows on tlic .Sierra Nevada. What is regarded
as the main stream rises in the Sierra de Cazorla in the east of
the province of Jaeu, but it does not become a considerable river
till after it is joined by the Guadiana lienor (from the Sierra
Nevada), on the left bank and the Guadalimar on the right.
Lower down the principal tributary which it receives is the Jenil
(left). In the days of the lloora the Guadalquivir was navigable
lor largo vessels to Cordova, but, having been allowed to become
silted up in the lower pari of its couree, it has only recently again
been made navigaljlc for vessels of 1200 tons burden to Seville.
The only considerable lakes in Spain are three coast Lukes,
lagoons, — that of Albufera in the province of Valencia, the
Mar Menor in Murcia, and the Laguna de la Janda in
Cadiz behind Cape Trafalgar. Small alpine and other
lakes are numerous, and small salt lakes are to be found
in every steppe region.
- The geological structure of the Spanish Peninsula is Geologj
comparatively simple. Upon a fundamental platform'
of ancient crystalline rocks, which had previously been
upraised into detached ridges, a series of sedimentary)
formations was laid down, among which occur representai
fives of most of the geological systems- from the older
Paleozoic rocks up to those of Quaternary date. Arranged
in order cf age, with their respective areas, these various
groups of rock are shown in the subjoined table : —
Quaternary ;.
covering 49,477 sq. kil
)m., or 10-00 7, of nlioie sur
ace.
Pliocene
9,064
1-80 ■
Miocene and Ollgocene.
„ 137,867
27-85
Kocene
„ 23..'>G4
4-80 „
Cretaceous^
47,002
9-60
„• 22,697
22,443
„ 11,301
4-45
4-45
222
5,780
„ 114,382
1-40
23-18
Silurian (and Cambrian)
1,694
0-3.'.
Eruptive rocks of vari-
ous ages
,. «,C65
10-00
Archa>an rocks are exposed in the northern half of the Peninsula,
particularly along the great Pyrenean axis, in OaMcia, Estrcmndura,;
the Sierra Morena, the Sierra Nevada, and Serrania de Rondaj
They consist of granites, gneisses, and mica-schists, with talc-
schists, amphibolites, and ci-ystalliiie limestones. The oldest
Pahvozoic strata are referred, from their included fossils, to the
Cambrian and Silurian divisions. They range through a vast
region of Andalusia, Estrcmadura, Castile, Salamanca, Leon, and
Asturias, and along the flanks of the Pyrenean and Cantabrian
chain. They consist of slates, grey wackes, quartzites, and diabases.
Grits, quartzites, and shales referable to the Devonian system
occur in a few scattered areas, the largest and most fossilifcrous of
these occurring ia tlie Asturias. The Carboniferous rocks of Spain
arc divisible into three groups, the lowest consisting of limestones
with sandstones and shales, the middle of conglomerates and
sandstones, and the upper of sandstones, conglomerates, shales,
and coals. They lie in detached basins, and nave not yet been
well explored. One of thc?e areas covei-s a considerable space in
the Asturias, whence it stretches more or less continuously through
the provinces of Leon, Palencia, and Santander, covering altogether
an area of 6500 square Idlometres. Another tract occni-s at San
Juan do las Abadcsas in Catalonia, where it occupies about 200
square kilometres ; while a third, about COO square kilometres in
extent, runs from the province of Cordova into that of Badajoz
There are other smaller areas containing Kittle or no coal, but
showing by the included plant-remains that tho strata undoubtedly
belong to the Carboniferous system.
The Triassic system is well developed in the north of the
Peninsula along the Cantabrian chain and eastwards to the
llcditerranean. It is composed of red und variegated snndsloiico,
dolomites, and marls, tjaversed in some places by ophitic rocks,
and containing dcpo.sits of gypsum, aragonitc, and rock-salt.
These strata are oveilain by members of the .lurassio series, which
are especially conspicuous in the eastern part of tho Peninsula
296
SPAIN
[physical features.
between Castile and Aragon, along the Mediterranean border, in
Andalusia, and likewise along the flanks of the Pyrenees. The
Lias i» best represented. The Cretaceous system is distributed in
four great districts: the largest of these extends through the
kingdoms of Murcia and Valencia ; a second stretches between the
two Castiles; a third is found in the Basque Provinces and the
Asturias ; and a fourth spreads out along the southern slopes of
the Pyrenees from Navarre to the Mediterranean. The lower
members of the Cretaceous series include an important freshwater
formation (sandstones and clays), which extends from the Cantabrian
eoast through the provinces of Santander, Burgos, Soria, and
Logrono, and is supposed to represent the English Wealden series.
The higher members comprise massive hippurite limestones, and
In the Pyreuean district representatives of the upper subdivisions
of the system, including the Danian.
Deposits of Tertiary age cover rather more than a third of Spain.
They are divisible into two great series, according to their mode of
jrigin in the sea or in fresh water. The marine Tertiary accumula-
tions commence with those that are referable to the Eocene series,
consisting of nummulitic limestones, marls, and siliceous sand-
stones. These strata are developed in the basin of the Ebro, and
in a belt which extends from V'alencia through Murcia and
Andalusia to Cadiz. Marine Miocene deposits occupy some small
tracts, especially on the coast of Valencia. But most of the sandy
Tertiary rocks of that district are Pliocene. The Tertiary masses
of Andalusia have coarse conglomerates (Middle Miocene) at their
base, followed by thick beds of Bryozoan molasse and younger
(Pliocene) beds. These strata are specially noteworthy for con-
taining an important metalliferous deposit, that of the native silver
of Herrerias, which is found in a Pliocene bed in the form of flakes,
needles, and crystals. But the most extensive and interesting
Tertiary accumulations are those of the great lakes which in
Oligocene and Miocene time spread over so large an expanse of the
tableland. These sheets of fresh water covered the centre of the
country, including the basins of the Ebro, Jucar, Guadalaviar,
Guadalquivir, and Tagus. They have left behind them thick de-
posits of claj'S, marls, gypsum, and limestone, in which numerous
remains of the lanS-animals of the time have been preserved.
Quaternary deposits spread over about a tenth of the area of the
country. The largest tract of them is to be seen to the south of
the Cantabrian chain ; but another, of hardly inferior extent,
flanks the Sierra de Gnadarrama, and spreads out over the great
plain from Madrid to Caceres. Some of these alluvial accumula-
tions indicate a former greater extension of the snowfields that are
now so restricted in the Spanish sierras. Remains of the reindeer
are found in caves in the Pyrenees.
Eruptive rocks of many different ages occur in different parts of
Spain. The most important tract covered by them is that which
stretches from Cape Ortegal to Coria in Estremadura and spreads
over a large area of Portugal. They likewise appear in Castile,
forming the sierras of Credos and Guadarrama ; farther south they
rise in the mountains of Toledo, in the Sierra Morena, and across
the provinces of Cordova, Seville, Huelva, and Badajoz as far as
Evora in Portugal. Among the minor areas occupied by them
may be especially mentioned those which occur in the Triassic
districts. Of rocks included in the eruptive series the most
abundant is franite. There occur also quartz-porphyry (Sierra
Moreua, Pyrenees, &c. ), diorite, porphyrite, diabase (well developed
in the north of Andalusia, where it plays a great part in the
structure of the Sierra Morena), ophite (Pyrenees, Cadiz), serpentine
(forming an enormous mass in the Serrania de Ronda), trachyte,
liparite, andesite, basalt. The last four rocks occur as a volcanic
series distributed in three chief districts — that of Cape Gata,
including the south-east of Andalusia and the south of ilureia,
that of Catalonia, and that of La Mancha.
Climalt:. — In accordance with its southerly position, its differences
of elevation, and the variety in its superficial configuration in other
respects, Spain presents within its borders examples of every kind
of climate to be found on the northern hemisphere, with the sole
exception of that of the torrid zone. As regards temperature, the
heart of the tableland is characterized by extremes as great as
are to be met with in almost any part of central Europe. The
northern and north-western maritime provinces, on the other hand,
liaTc a climate as equable, and, it may be added, as moist, as that
of the west of England or Scotland.
Four zones of climate are distinguished. The first zone may be
called that of the tableland, although to it also the greater part of
the Ebro basin may be referred. This is the zone of the greatest
extremes of temperature. Even in summer the nights are often
decidedly cold, and on the high parameras it is not a rare thing
to see lioar-frost in the morning. In spring cold wetting mists
occasionally envelop the land for entire days, while in summer the
sky is often perfectly clear for weeks together. At all seasons of
the vear sudden changes of temperature, to the extent of from 30°
to 50" F. , are not infrequent. The air is extrem.ely dry, which
is all the more keenly felt from the fact that it is almost constantly
in motion. At Madrid (21S0 feet above sea-level) it regularly
freezes so hard in December and January that skating is carried on
on the sheet of water in the Buen Retiro ; and, as winter through-
out Spain, except in the maritime provinces of the north and
north-west, is the season of greatest atmospheric precipitation,
snowfalls are frequent, though the snow seldom lies long except
at high elevations. The summers, on the other band, are not
only extremely warm but almost rainless, the sea-winds being
deprived of their moisture on the edge of the plateau. In Jnly
and August the plains of New Castile and Estremadura are sun-
burnt wastes ; the roads are several inches deep with dust; the
leaves of the few trees are withered and discoloured ; the atmo-
sphere is filled with a fine dust, producing a haze known as calina,
which converts the blue of the sky into a dull grey. In the
greater part of the Ebro basin the heat of summer is even more
intense. The treeless mostlj' steppe-like valley with a bright-
coloured soil acts like a concave mirror in reflecting the suns
rays, and, moreover, the mountains and highlands by which the
valley is enclosed prevent to a large extent the access of winds,
and thus hinder the renewal of the air, which in the lowest parts
is little disturbed.
The second zone is that of the Mediterranean provinces, exclusive
of those of the extreme south. In this zone the extremes of
temperature are less, though the summers here also are wann,
and the winters decidedly cool, especially in the north-east.
The southern zone, to which the name of African has been given,
embraces the whole of Andalusia as far as the Sierra Morena, the
southern half of Murcia, and the province of Alicante. In this zone
there prevails a genuine subtropical climate, with extremely warm
and almost rainless summers and mild winters, the temperatnre
hardly ever sinking below freezing-point. The hottest part of the
region is not the most southerly district but the bright-coloured
steppes of the coast of Granada, and the plains and hill terraces
of the south-east coast from Almeria to Alicante. Snow and
frost are here hardly known. It is said that at Malaga snow falls
only about once in twenty-five years. The winter, in fact, is the
season of the brightest vegetation : after the long drought of summer
the surface gets covered once more in late autumn with a fresh
green varied with bright-coloured flowers, and so it remains the
whole winter through. On the other hand, the eastern part of
this zone is the part of Spain which is liable to be visited from
time to time by the scorching and blasting levtche, the name
given in Spain to the sirocco, as well as by the solano, a moist and
less noxious east wind.
The fourth zone, that of the north and north-west maritime
provinces, presents a marked contrast to all the others. The
temperature is mild and equable ; the rains are abundant all the
year round, but fall chiefly in autumn, as in the west of Europe
generally. Monthly roses bloom in the gardens at Christmas as
beautifully and as plentifully as in summer. The chief drawback
of the climate is an excess of rain in some parts, especially in
the west. Santiago de Compostella, for example, has one of the
highest rainfalls on the mainland of Europe (see table below).
The figures given in the following table (I.),^ although based only
on data- of short periods (from SJ to 20 years), will help to illustrate
the preceding general remarks. Greenwich is added for the sate
of comparison.
Height
in feet.
Mean Tempei-atiire, F.
Rain-
faUin
inches.
Jan.
July.
Tear.
Tableland
zone
Southern zone
Mediterranean
zone
Northern mari-
time zone
2600
2150
90
75
140
50
750
750
37°
41
52
54
49
52
46
43
45-5
39
73°
76
75
79
79
77
70
66
66
63
53°
56
63
70
63
64
58
54
55
50
19
15
30
14
27
46
36
66
25
Madrid
San Fernando
Malaga.
Mahon
Bilbao
Santiago
Greenwich
Vegetation. — The vegetation of Spain exhibits a variety in keeping
with the difierences of climate j ust described. Thenumber of endemic
species is exceptionally large, the number of monotypic genera in
the Peninsula greater than in any other part of the Mediterranean
domain. The endemic species are naturally most numerous in the
mountains, and above all in the loftiest ranges, the Pyrenees and
the Sierra Nevada ; but it is a peculiarity of the Spanish tableland,
as compared with the plains and tablelands of central Europe,
that it also possesses a considerable number of endemic plants and
plants of extremely restricted range. This fact, however, is also
in harmony with the physical conditions above described, being
explained by the local varieties, not only of climate, but also oi
1 By conversion from Th. Fischer's Klima der Mittelmeerlander,
FLORA AND r\UNA.]
SPAIN
29J
soil. Altogctlier no other country in Europe of equal extent has
so great a wealtKof species as Spain. Accoiilingto the Prodromus
Florx Hispanicx of Willkomm and Lange (completed ia 1880). the
number of species of vascular plants then ascertained to exist in the
eountry was 5096.
Spain may be divided botanically into four provinces, corre-
sponding to the four climatic zones.
In tho tableland province (including the greater part of the
Ebro valley) tiie flora is composed cliielly of species characteristic
HI the jMcditerranean region, generally of species confined to the
Peninsula. A peculiar character is imparted to the vegetation of
this province by the growth over large tracts of evergieen shrubs
and large herbaceous plants belonging to the Cislincm and Labialie.
Areas covered by plants of the former group %re known to the
Spaniards asjaralcs, and are particularly extensive in the Mancha
Alta and on the slopes of the Sierra Morena, where the ladanum bush
(Cistus ladani/crus) is specially abundant ; those covered by plants
of tho latter group arc known as tomillarcs (from tomillo, thyme),
and occur chiefly in the south, south-west, and east of the table-
land of New Castile. In the central parts of the same tableland
huge thistles (such as the Oiiopordmn nervosum), centaureas,
artemisias, and other Composite are scattered in 'great profusion.
From the level parts of these tablelands trees are almost entirely
absent. On the lofty para'meras of Soria and other parts of Old
Castile the vegetation has an almost alpine character.
The southern or African province is distinguished chiefly by the
abundance of plants which have their true home in North Africa
(a fact easily understood when we consider the geologica^y recent
land connexion of Spain with that continent), but is also
remarkable for the occurrence within it of numerous Pastern
slants (natives of Syria and Asia Minor), and plants belonging to
Jouth Africa and the Canaries, as well as natives of tropical
Inierica which have become naturalized here (see below under
igricidtuTe). In this province the maritime parts of Malaga and
Granada present scenes of almost tropical richness and beauty^
»hile, on the other hand, in Murcia, Alicante, and Almeria the
jspcct is truly African, fertile oases appearing in the midst of
rocky deserts or barren steppes. A peculiar vegetation, consisting
Biainly of low shrubs with fleshy glaucous leaves (Inula crilkmmdes,
&c.), covers the marismas of the Guadalquivir and various parts of
the south-west coast where salt-marshes prevail. Everywhere on
;inoist sandy ground are to be seen tall thickets of Arundo Donax.
Tlio ""''iterranean province is that in which the general aspect
ol' the Vvgecatiou agrees most closely wiih that of southern Franco
and tho lowlands of the Mediterranean region generally. On the
lower slopes of the mountains and on all the parts left uncultivated
tho prevailing form of vegetation consists of a dense growth of
shrubs with thick leathery leaves, such as are known to the French
as maquis, to tho Italians as macchic, and jre called in Spanish
nonte bajo,^ shrubs which, however much they resemble each other
in external appearance, belong botanically to a great variety of
Cunilie^.
The northern maritime province, in accordance with its climate,
has a vegetation resembling that of central Europe. Here only
are to be found rich grassy meadows adorned with flowers such as
are seen in English helds, and here only do forests of oak, beech,
and chestnut cover a large proportion of the area. The extra-
ordinary abundance of ferns (as in western France) is likewise
characteristic.
Tho forest area of Spain generally is relatively small. The
whole extent of forests is estimated at little more than 3 millions
of hectares (74 million acres), or less than 6 per cent, of the area of
the kingdom. Evergreen oaks, chestnuts, and conifers are tho
prevailing trees. Tito cork oaks of the southern provinces and of
Catalonia are of immense value, but the groves containing this
tree have aufl'ered greatly from the reckless way in whicli tho
product is collected. Among other characteristic trees are the
Spanish pine {Pinns Mspanica), tho Corsican pine (P. Larieio),
the Pinsapo fir (Ahics Pinsapo), and the Qtiercus Tozza, the last
belonging to the slopes of the Sierra Nevada. Besides tho date-
palm the dwarf-palm grows spontaneously in some parts of the
south, but it nowhere makes up a large element of the vegetation.
The Spanish steppes deserve a special notice, since they are not
confined to one of tlio four botanical provinces, but are found in
all of them except tho last. Six considerable steppe regions are
counted: — (1) that of Old Castile, situated to the south of Valladolid,
and composed chiefly of hills of gypsum ; (2) that of New Castile,
in tho south-east (the district of La Manchn); (3) tho Aragoncso,
occupying tho upper part of the basin of the Ebro ; (i) tho littoral,
stretching along tho south-east coast from Alicante to tho
neighbourhood of Almeria; (5) theCranadine, in tho east of Upper
Andalusia (tho former kingdom of Granada); and (C) the Hretic, in
tower Andalusia, on both sides of tho valley of the Jcnil. All of
these are originally salt-steppes, and, where the soil is still highly
impregniitcd with salt, have only a sparse covering of shrubs,
1 Aa dIsUngulahcd from monte altOt the collocttvo name fur forest trees.
mostly members of the Saholaeete, with tliielc, greyish-green, often
downy leaves. A different aspect is presented by the grass stepies
of Murcia, La Mancha, the plateaus of Guadix and Huescar in the
proviuce of Granada, kc, all of which are covered chiefly withjhp
valuable esjiarto grass {Macrochloa tenacissima}.
Fauna. — The Iberian Peninsula belongs to the Mediten-aficaif
subregion of the Pala;arctic region of the animal kingdom, a division
which includes also the north of Africa. The forms that betray
African aflinitits are naturally to be found chiefly in the south.
Among the mammals that fall under this bead' are the common
genet (Gcnella milgaris), which extends, however, pretty far north,
and is found also in the south of France, the fallow-deer, tho
porcupine (very rare), and a species of ichneumon {IIcipcslcs
widdriiiglonii), which is confined to the Peninsula, and is the only
European species of this characteristically African genus. The
magot or fiarbary ape {luuus eraudalus), the only species of
monkey still found wild in Europe, is also a native of Spain, but
the only flock still surviving, oh tho rock of Gibraltar, has often
been on the point of extinction, and has to be renewed from time
to time by importations from the north of Africa. Of the mammals
in which Spain shows more affinity to the fauna of central and
northern Europe, some of the most characteristic are the Spanish
lynx (Lynx pardiHUs),^a. species confined to the Peninsula, the
Spanish hare (Lepus madrileiisis), and tho species mentioned in tha
article Pyrenee.*!. The birds of Spain are very numerous, partly
no doubt in consequence of the fact that the Peninsula lies in thd
route of those birds of passage which cross from Africa to Europe
or Europe to Africa by way of tho Straits of Gibraltar. Many
species belonging to central Europe pass tho winter in Spain,
especially on the south-eastern coasts .and in the valley of tha
Guadalquivir. Innumerable, for example, are the snipes which in
that season are killed in the latter district and brought to the
market of Seville. Among the birds of prey may be menHoned.
besides tho cinereous and bearded vultures, the Span.ali vulture
(Chjps occidcntalis), the African or Egyptian vulture (Neophron
prrciiopterus), which is found among all the mountains of the
Peninsula, the Spanish imperial eagle (Aquila adalberii), tha
short-toed eagle (Circaetus galliais), the southern eagle-owl (Bubo
alheniensis), besiaes various kites and falcons. Among gallinaceous
birds, besides the red-legged partridge, which is met with every<
where on the' steppes, there are found also the Flcrocles alehiM
and P. arenarius ; and from among tho birds of other orders tha
southern shrike (Lanius meridionalis), the Spanish sparrow (Passen
cijaneus), and the blue magpie (Cyanopiea cooki) may be singled
out as worthy of mention. Tho last is highly remarkable on
account of its distribution, it being confined to Spain while tha
species most closely allied to it (Cyanopiea, cyanea) belongs to the
east of Asia. Tlie flamingo is found native in the Balearic Island^
and on the southern coasts, and occasionally a stray specimen is to
bo seen on the tableland of New Castile. Other birds peculiar to
tho south are two species of quails, tho Andalusian heni'roda
(Turnix sylvalica), confined to the plains of Andalusia, the south*. rn
shearwater (Piijinus cinereus), and other water-birds. Amphibian;)
and reptiles are particularly numerous iu the southern provinces,
and among these the most remarkable are the large southern or
eyed lizard (Laccrta oecUala), which sometimes attains 3 feet in
length and is very abundant, the Platydaelylus saceicularis, tho
grey amphisbajna (Blanus cinereus), the European pond-tortoist^
(Emys (uropma), and another species, Emys sicgrizii. Insect life
is remarkably abundant and varied. More than 350 species o£
butterflies, many of them endemic, have been counted in tho
province of Madrid alone. Besides tho ordinary European
scorpion, which is generally distributed in southdrn Europe, there
is another species, the sting of which is said to bo still more severe,
found chiefly in the basin of tho Ebro. Trout abound in tho
mountain streams and lakes, barbel and many other species of
CyprinidiB in tho rivers of the plains. ^ For the sea fauna, see
under Fisheries below.
Extent. — The, total area of the mainland of Spain, acArding to
the calculations of Strclbitsky, is 495,612 square kilometres or
191,365 square miles, that of the Balearic Islands 4982 square
kilometres or 1923 square miles, and that of the Canary Islands,
which, though belonging geographically to Africa, are admin-
istratively associated with tho kingdom of Spain, 7011 square
kilometres or 2939 square miles ; so that the total area ol tho
kingdom is 508,205 square kilometres or 196,225 square miles.
This total agrees pretty closCly with that in Justus Pcrthcs's table
given below (Tabic II.), although ronsidcr.ablo dill'ercnocs will bo
observed in tho areas assigned to tho mainland provinces and tho
two i.sland groups respectively. The length of tho coastline of
tho mainland, accordin'; to Strelbitsky, is 2C02 miles, which is
equivalent to 1 mile of coast for every 72 square miles of area,
about the same proportion as in Kranco. ..The greatest length from
north-east to south-west is 420 miles.
Territorial Divisions and Population. — Tor administrative pur-
poses tho kingdom of Spain has since 1833 been divided into folly-
nine provinces, forty-seven of which belong to the niainloou.
XXII. — 3&
298
SPAIN
[STATISTIOa.
Bsfore 1833 the mainland was dirided into thirteen proviacts, eIso
enumerated below, vf Dichtooktheir namesfromtheancient kmgaoms
and principalities out of which the modern kingdom was ffradually
builtup. The present provinces are subdivided intojudicialdistricts
(partidos judiciales) and oommunes {ayuntamientos). , . , .
It is probable that the population of Spain attained its highest
developmect during the period of the early Koman empire, when
it has been .istimated, though of course on imperfect data, to have
numbered forty or fifty millions. The best evidence of a dense
population in those- days is that afforded by the specific estimates
of ancient writers for some of the larger cities. The population ot
Tarraco (Tarragona) was estimated at 2i millions, and that of IJova
Carthago (nartagena^, Italica (Sevilla la Vieja), and others at several
hundreds of thousands. Emerita Augusta (Merida) had a Roman
garrison of 90,000 men, which also implies a large population, i
Table II. — Area and Fopulation of the Former and Present
Provinces,
ProTinces.
Niiw Castile....
Madrid
Guadalajara..
Toledo
Cuenca
Ciudad Real..
OtD Castile..
Burgos
LogroBo
Santander...
Aviia.
Segovia
Soria
Palencia
ValladWid ..
ASTtTBIAS .,
Oviedo..
Lbon
Salamanca,.
Zamora
Leon
Area in
Square
Hiles.
Population
1857.
EaTREMADDBA...
Badajoz
Caceres
Galicta
CoruBa
Lugo
Orense
Pontevedi-a..
Andalusia
Aimeria
Granada
Malaga
Cordova
.Jaen
Cadiz (with Ceuta).
ISeviile
Huelva
4LENCIA
Castellon de laPlana
Valencia.
Alicante
MmiciA
Albacete..
Murcia ....
Catalonia....
Lerida
Gerona
Barcelona...
Tarragona..
Akaoon 17,979
28,018
2,997
4,869
6,586
6.72S
7,810
25,409
6,651
1.945
5,112
2,982
2,714
3,835
3,125
8,043
4,091
4,091
18,242
4,940
4,135
6,167
16,702
8.688
8,014
11,343
3,078
3,787
2,739
1,739
33,926
S,302
4,937
2,824
6,300
5,184
2,828
6,429
4,122
8,897
2,446
4,3.53
K),449
6,972
4,477
12,483
4,775
2,272
2,935
2,451
1,477,915
475,785
199.088
328,755
229.959
244,328
1.609,943
333,356
,173,812
214,441
164,039
146,839
147,468
185,970
244 023
524,529
624,529
861.434
263,516
249.1G2
348,756
707,115
404,931
802,131
1,776,379
551,989
424,186
371,818
423,836
Population I Increase
Dec. 31,
1877. Decrease.
Huesca..
Saragossa.,
Teruel
1.627,131
594,194
201,288
335.038
236,253
260,368
1,654,718
332.625
174,425
235,299
180,436
150,052
153,652
180,771
247,458
576,352
676,352
885,625
285,695
249,720
350,210
739.403
432,809
306,594
1,848,027
596.436
410,810
888,635
451,946
Pop.
per
sq. m,
1877.
2,937,183 3,283,438
Navareia .,.
'Navarra..
Basque Provinces ..
Vizcaya (Biscay) ..
Guipuzcoa
Alava
Balearic Tslands ..
Canary Islands ...
Total..
6,878
r,,eo7
6,494
4,046
4,046
2,782
849
1,860
2,944
315,664
444,629
451,4115
351,536
345.879
390,192
463,435
174,391
1,246,485
260,919
606,633
378,958
582,087
201.113
880,959
1,652,291
306,934
310,970
713,7.34
320,593
830,643
257,839
384,176
238,628
297,422
297.422
413.470
lt;0,.579
156,493
96,398
262,893
234,046
349,0:
479,066
600,322
385,482
423,025
429,206
506,812
210,447
1,374,592
283,981
679,045
411,565
670.669
219,058
451,611
1,732.033
235,339
299,702
836,887
330.105
894,991
252,239
400,587
242,165
304,184
304.184
460,609
169054
167.207
93,538
289,035
280.974
+ 10-1
+ 24-8
+ 11
+ 1-8
+ 3-3
+ 6-6
+ 2-8
- 0-2
+ 0-4
+ 9'7
+ 100
+ 21
+ 4-2
- 2-8
+ 1-4
+ 9-9
+ 9-9
+ 3-0
+ 8-3
+ 0-2
+ 0-4
+ 4-6
+ 6-9
+ 1-5
+ 4-0
+ 8-0
- 33
+ 4-6
•+ 5-4
+ 11-7
+ 10-8
+ 7-5
+ 10-8
+ 97
+ 22-3
+ 10-2
+ 9-3
+ 20-8
+ 10-1
+ 83
■+ 11-9
+ 8-6
4- 15-2
+ 8-9
+ 18-5
+ 5-9
- 76
- 39
+ 17 2
+ 3-0
+ 1-6
- 2-2
+ 42
+ 16
+ 2-3
+ 2-3
+ 8-9
+ 18 3
+ 63
- 31
+ 9-9
+ 19'9
196,171 15,464,340 116,631,869
Presidios ot North Africa (exclusive oi Ceuta)...
2,476
16,634.346
+ 7-5
68
198
41
60
84
33
65
59
89
111
60
65
40
58
80
140
140
67
68
CO
67
44
60
163
193
)10
142
260
94
106
96
177
73
82
152
93
61
154
116
1.56
194
64
36
101
140
60
131
280
13a
50
44
60
44
75
75
162
224
229
78
155
95
> Garrido, La Eifi?^ CMlerAfiorHTtia, I 489.
The first Spanish census was made in 1594, but some of tho
provinces now included in the kingdom were for one reason or
another not embraced in the enumeration, so that the total popula-
tion assigned to Spain within its present limits for that date is
obtained by adding the results of enumerations at different dates
in tho provinces then excluded. The total thus arrived at is
8,206,791. No other census took place tiU 1787, when the total
was found to be 10,268,150; and this census was followed by
another in 1797, when the population was returned as 10,541,221.
Various estimates were made within the next sixty years, but tho
census of 1857 proved that some of these estimates must have been
greatly below the truth. The total population then ascertained to
exist in Spain was 15,464,340, an increase of not much less than
50 per cent, since the census of 1797. The last census took place
on December 31, 1877, and the total populatiou theu ascertained,
16,631,869, shows an increase of only 7^ per cent., equal to an
annual increase at the rate of 0-35 per cent.— lower than in any
other country in Europe except France.
As Table II. shows, the density of population in Spain as a
whole is little more than that of the most thinly peopled couutyi
of England in 1881 (Westmoreland, 82 to the .square mile),'
Looking at the old provinces, we find that the most thickly
peopled are all maritime, and that all the maritime provinces
except Andalusia and Murcia have a density exceeding 100 to
the square mile. The most densely peopled province of all 13
not Catalonia, in which manufacturing industries are so hig!);y de-
veloped, nor the Basque Provinces with their great iron industry,
but Galicia, where there are neither manufactures nor minerals to
speak of, but where tillage occupies a relatively larger area than
anywhere else in Spain. Of the modern provinces the most thinly
peopled are Cuenca and Ciudad Real, in the barren region of the
east and south of New Castile, and Albacete in the Murcian steppe,
in each case the density being less than half of that of the most
thinly peopled English county. The column indicating the increaw
(or decrease) per cent, of the population between 1857 and 1877
shows that, outside of the province in which the capital is situated,
the increase points chiefly to the recent development of manu-
factures and mining,— to the development of copper mines in
Huelva, lead mines in Jaen, iron mines in Vizcaya, cotton manu-
factures in Barcelona. In Murcia it points no doubt to the great
development of the trade in esparto as well as m southern
fruits On the other hand the decrease in Lerida and Gerona
indicates how the attraction of higher wages in the manufacturing
districts of Catalonia tends to deplete the neighbouring country
(listriclis
As regards the distribution of population between town and
country, Spain contrasts in a marked manner with Italy, Spam
having but few large towns and a relatively large country popula-
tion In 1877 there were only five towns with more than 100,000
inhabitants :— Madrid (397,815), Barcelona (248,943) Valencia
(143 861), Seville (134,318), and Malaga (115,882). Only ume had
a population between 50,000 and 100,000, and besides these only
171 had a population above 10,000. ..„-,•
The birth-rate in Spain is 33-9 per thousand as against 35-1 in
England and Wales, the death-rate 29-1 (21-4 in England and
Wales); the number of marriages per thousand inhabitants was
7 -322 (8 -08 in England and Wales). The percentage of illegitimacy
is 5-6. Tho number of males born for every 100 females averages
107, a higher proportion than in any other country of Europe
for which statistics are obtainable except Greece (112) and
Rouraania (111). . . , , .
Foreign Possessions.— Jhe population ot the principal foreign
possessions of Spain in 1877 numbered 7,822,12.3, made up as
follows : —
Cuba 1,521,684 I Philippine Islands 5,567,685
Porto Eico 731,648 | Fernando Po 1,106
Besides the Philippine Islands in the Eastern Archipelago, Spain
possesses the greater part of the Sulu Archipelago, and, in tbe
Pacific, the Marianne, Pelew, and Caroline Islands. Off the Guinea
coast she possesses the Island of Annohon as well as that of
Fernando Po, and on the coast itself the district round Corisco
Bay. She has likewise declared a protectorate over the West
African coast between Capes Bojador and Bbnco (desert of Sahara).
The presidios, whose population is given in TaWe II., are PenoD de
Velez, Alhucemas, and Melila (besides Ceuta).
Agriculture.— AgTicuU-are is by far the most important Spanish
industry, nearly 73 per cent, of those whose occupations were clas-
sified at the census of 1877 being entered under that head. In
general it is in a backward condition, and is now much le.ss pro-
ductive than in the time of the Romans and again under the Moors.
The expulsion of the latter people in many places inflicted upon
agriculture a blow from which it has not recovered to this day.
Aragon and Estremadura, the two most thinly peopled of all the
old provinces, and the eastern half of Andalusia (above SeviUe).
2 In all these cases the Hgores lor Spsin «~ the mecuB of U-o years 1866-70
and 1SS0-S3 indusivi^
CEICULTUKE.j
SPAIN
299
tare all suffered particularly in this manner, later occupiers never
having been able to rival tlie Moors in overcoming the sterility of
nature, as in Aragon. or in t.^lcing advantage of its fertility, ns in
jiudalusia aud the Tierra dc Barros. The imiilcnicnts in general
ISO are of the rudest descri))tion. Tho plough i» merely a pointed
stick shod with iron, crossed by another stick vrhich serves as a
share, scrati-hing the gi-ound to the depth of a few inches. But the
Tcgular import now of agi-icultural implements (chiefly from Eng-
Injid aud France) betokens an improvement in this respect. In
general there has been considerable improvement in tho condition
of agricultnre since the introduction of railways, aud in cvci-y
■province there is a royal commissioner entrustoil with the duty
of supervising and encouraging this branch of industry. Among
other institutions for the promotion of agriculture the royal central
school at Aranjucz, to which is attached a model farm, is of speci.nl
importance.
The provinces.in which agriculture is most advanced are those
of Valencia and Catalonia, in both of which, the river valleys are
thickly seamed with irrigation canals aild the hill-slopes carefully
terraced for cultivation. In neither province is the soil naturally
fertile, and nothing but the untiring industry of the inhabitants,
favoured in the one case by the rivers which traverse the proviiice
from tlie tableland of New Castile and the numerous small streams
(naeimicntos) that issue from the base of the limestone mountaius
of which the province is largely composed, and in the other case
by the numerous torrents from the Pyrenees, has converted them
into two of tlie most productive regions in Spain. In the Basque
Provinces and in Galicia the cultivable area is quite as fully utilized,
but in these the difficulties that have to be contended with are not
so great. The least productive tracts, apart from Aragon aud
Esticmadura, are situated in the south and east of Kew Castile,
in Mui'cia, and iu Lower Andalusia — tho marshes or marismas of
the lower Guadalquivir and the arenas gordas between that river
and the Eio Tinto. By far the greater part of the tableland,
however, is anything but fertile, the principal exceptions being the
Tierra de Campos, said to be the chief corn-growing district in
Spain, occupying the greater part of Palencia iu the north-west of
Old Castile, and the Tierra de Barros, in the portiou of Badajoz
•lying to the south of the Guadiana in Estremadura, another district
Inoted for its corn.
Except in Leon and ■ the provinces bordering on the Bay of
Biscay and the Atlantic irrigation is almost everywhere necessary
for cultivation, at least in tlie case of certain crops. Almost all
kinds of vegetables and garden-fruits, oranges, rice, heuip, and
other jiroducts are generally grown solely or mainly on inigated
land, whereas most kinds of grain, vines, and olives are cultivated
chiefly on dry soil The water used for irrigation is sometimes
derived from springs and rivers in mountain valleys, whence it
is conveyed by long canals {accquias) along the mountain sides
and sometimes by lofty aqueducts to the fields on which it is to
he used. Sometimes the water of entire rivers or vast artificial
reservoirs (pdntanos) is used in feeding a dense network of canals
distributed over plains many square miles in extent. Such jilains
in Valencia and Murcia are known by the Spanish name of
huerlas (gardens), in Andalusia by the Arabic name of vegas, which
has the same meaning. Many of the old irrigation works, — such,
for example, as those of the plain of Tarragona, — date from the
time ol the Romans, and many others from the Moorish period,
while new ones are still being laid out at the present day. Where
DO running water is available for irrigation, water is often obtained
from wells by means of waterwhccls (noriaa) of simple construction.
In moat cases such wheels merely have earthenware pitchers
attached to their circumference by means of wisps of esparto,
and are turned by a horse harnessed to a long arm fitted to a
revolving shaft. In recent years many artesian wells have been
sunk for irrigation. According to Higgin (see Bibliography), the
total area of irrigated land in Spain auiouuls to 4439 square miles.
The effect of irrig.ation is shown by tho fact that the irrigated
portion of Murcia has a population of 1681 to tho square mile as
against 101 for tho whole province, and Orihuela a population of
767 to the square mile as against 194 for the whole province of
Alicante to wuich it belongs.
Cereals constitute tho principal object of cultivation, and among
the-so wheat ranks first, tlio next in importance being barley, the
chief fodder of horses and mules. Both of these grains arc
cultivated in all parts — on the plains as well as among tho
mountains, but chielly on the more level parts of tho two Castiles
and Leon, and on the plains of the basin of tho Guadalquivir.
Oats and rye are cultivated only in the higher parts of the mountnms,
the former ns a sulistitnlo for barley in feeding horses aud mules,
the latter as a brtadstulf. Haizo also is cultivated in all tho
firovinccs ; nevertheless the total extent of its cultivation is
imitcd, since, being a summer crop, it requires irrigation except
in tho Atlantic provinces, and other products generally yield a
more profitable return where irrigation is pursued. Ilico is
cultivated on a large scale only in Valencia. Among cereals of
l^a importance are buckwheat (iu tho mountainous regions of tho
north), millets, including liotli tlic common millet (Panicwm
vdliaccunCy and tho so-called Indian millet (Sorghum vttlgarej
the jotiri of India, tlio dun-ah of Africa), and even (iu La
Mancha) guinea-corn (Pcnicillnria spicaia). As to tho quantity
of cereals produced in the country we arc without official informa-
tion, and the estimates of the average annual production of cereals
of all kinds are very discrepant, varying from 250 to 430 million
bushels. The average production of wheat alone has been esti-
mated' at 177 million bushels, and the average 'Tiroduce of thai
crop per acre at 11 '13 bushels (that of England being about 29
bushels). If these figures can bo taken as approximately correct,
it follows that the average acreage under wheat in Spain is nearly
16 luillion acres, or between five and six-times the average in Great
Britain, which has less than half the area of Sjiain. The produce
per aero just indicated places Spain among those countries of
Europe in which the return is least, which is probably fully
accounted for by the backward state of cultivation generally and
in particular by tlie small expenditure on manure. As a rule, in
fact, the straw left on the ground is tho only manure which the
land receives.
The cereal and especially the wheat production of the country
regularly furnislies a considerable export. During the five years
1879-83 the value of the export of cereals and pod-fruits of all
kinds was nearly 3 per cent, of the total value of the exports ; but
this export is balanced by a large import, especially of wheat flour.
In bad years, indeed, the value of the import under this head greatly
exceeds that of the export.
In the production of pod-fruits and kitchen vegetables Spain is
ahead of all other countries in Europe. The chick pea forms part
of the daily food of all classes of the inhabitants ; and among other
pod-fruits largel}' cultivated are various kinds of beans and pease,
lentils {En~um lens), Spanish lentils {Lathyrus sativus) and other
species of Lalliyrns, lupines, &c. Tho principal fodder-crops
are lucerne [Mcdicago saliva) and csparcette (a variety of sainfoin).
Clover, particularly crimson clover (Trifolium incarnatum), is
grown in the northern provinces. AJnong vegetables garlic and
onions take the chief place, and form an iifdispensable part of the
diet of all Spaniards ; besides these, tomatoes and Spanish pepper
are the principal garden crops. It is upon such crops that the
Spanish peasant in general bestows his chief care.
As regards the quantity of tho product wine comes next after VHim
cereals among the objects of cultivation in Spain. Here agsin wo,
are dependent only upon vague estimates of the average amount
produced, but usually the average annual Spanish production of
wine is estimated at between 440 and 500 million gallons, an
estimate which places Spain third (next after France and Italy)
among the wine-producing countries of Europe. So far as quantity,
is concerned the principal wine-producing districts are in the north-
east, but the only wines of Spain which have a world-wide
reputation are those of the south, and more particularly those
which take the name of "sherry," from the town of Jerez, in the
neighbourhood of which they aro grown. The total area under
the vine is estimated at about 3,480,000 acres (or about 2'8 per
cent, of the entire surface), and of this total about 772,700 acres
belong to the Catalonian provinces, chiefly Barcelona. The
provinces which produce most Wine are Barcelona, Saragossa, Cadiz,
and Malaga, the annual amount of the production being in tho
order in which the provinces are mentioneo.
The official tables distinguish tho wines exported from Spain
as common wines, sherry and similar wines, ana other full-bodied
wines (virio generoso). The returns of recent years, as will bo seen
from Table III. given below, show that of late an enormous increase
has taken place in this export both as regards quantity and value,,
this increase being chiefly duo to the extension of tho export of
the commoner wines to France by way of Barcelona.
Avcrace of Five
Yeai-8 1874-78.
Avernpc of Fivo
Ycara 1879-83.
1964.
in
■s
g a c
|i|
IP
Hi
40,624
6,440
2,J«
2,647
2,460
470
133,(62
«,874
3,388
7,748
3,137
670
135,432
6,308
2,420
8,866
1,4<6
4»3
Sherry and similar )
wines t
Other full • bodlod \
wines J
ToUl
49,314
6,483
142,824
10,764
143,320
10,823
There is also a large export of grapes and raisins, ospocially from
tho southern provinces (Malaga and Almoria). The averago
quantity of the two together exported in each of tho fivo yoara
I In an arlldcbyM P. A. Dclbny In tho Journal of the SloHtUcnl SreUllltM
March 18S4. tnuuloUMl from the Journal lU la BxUH <U SlalutiqM dt I-Urlt.
September 1883.
300
S P A ] N
[statistics.
Live
stock.
1879-83 -wasatov.t 50 millions of kilogrammes (110 million ft), the
average value about £1,560,000. The vines whose frait is intended
for table use as grapes or raisins are trained on espaliers or on
trees, especially the nettle-tree (Celtis australis).
Among fruit-trees the first place belongs to the olive, which is
estimated to cover about 3 per cent, of the surface, and accordingly
about an equal area to that occupied by the vine. Its range in
Spain embraces the whole of the southern half of the tableland,
the greater part of the Ebro valley, and a small strip on -the west
coast of Galicia. Along the base of the Sierra Morena from
Andujar to the vicinity of Cordova there run regular forests of
olives, embracing hundreds of square miles. The annual production
of oil is estimated at 55 millions of gallons, and might be greatly
increased in quantity and improved in quality if more attention
were bestowed upon the cultivation of the trees and the prepara-
tion of the oil. Oranges, excluded from the plateau by the severity
of the winter cold, are grown in great quantity on the plains of
Andalusia and all round the Mediterranean coast; and figs,
almonds, pomegranates, carobs, and other southern fruits are also
groivn abundantly in all the warmer ' parts, the first two even in
central Spain and the more sheltered parts of the northern
maritime provinces. In these last, however, the prevailing fruit-
trees are those of central Europe, and above all the apple, which is
very extensively cultivated in Asturias, tho Basque Provinces, and
^Kavarre. The date-palm is very general in the south-eastern half
of the kingdom, but is cultivated for its fruit only in the province
of Alicante, in which lies the celebrated date-grove of Elche. In
the southern provinces flourish also various subtropical exotics,
such as the banana, the West Indian cherimoya, and the prickly
pear or Indian fig (Opuntia vulgaris), the last frequently grown
as a hedge-plant, as in other Mediterranean countries, and extend-
ing even to the southern part of the tableland. It is specially
abundant on the Balearic Islands. The agave or American aloe is
.cultivated in a similar manner throughout Andalusia. Cotton is
now cultivated only here and there in the south ; but, on the other
hand, sugar-cane, the cultivation of which was introduced by the
Arabs in the 12th century or later, and was of great importance in
the kingdom of Granada at the time of the expulsion of the Moors
at the close of the 15th century, but has since. undergone great
ricissitudes, first in consequence of the introduction of the cane into
America, and afterwards because of the great development of beet-
sugar in central Europe, is now becoming every year more and more
of a staple in the provinces of Granada, Malaga, and Almeria. The
annual production on the Spanish mainland is estimated at about
75,000,000 ft). Such prosperity as this branch of at^riculture at
present enjoys is largely due to the protection which it receives at
the hands of the Spanish Government. A duty imposed on all
imported sugars in 1876, while inflicting a severe blow on the
Spanish colony of Cuba, has had the desired efl'ect of stimulat-
ing the native production, but according to the law at present
in force (passed on June 30,. 1882) the amount of this duty,
as far as regards the produce of the Spanish colonies, is being
gradually reduced, and the duty wiU be entirely abolished on July
1, 1892. .
Among ine vegetable products not yet mentioned the most
important are the mulberry, grown in almost all provinces, but
principally in those bordering on the Mediterranean, and above all
in Valencia, the chief seat of the Spanish sUk production and
manufacture ; hemp and flax, grown chiefly in Galicia and other
■northern provinces; among dye-plants, madder, safi"ron, woad
{IsaXii tincloria), and wild woad or dyer's weed {Reseda luteoJa) ;
gronnd-nuts (Arachis hypogxa), grown fer their oil, for the pre-
paration of which the nuts are exported in considerable quantity
to France ; liquorice, cummin, colocynth, &c.
The rearing of animals has likewise been receiving in recent years
increased attention at the hands of both Government and people,
though here also we are without recent ofiicial statistics to show
the consequent advance. The middle of the present century
appears to have been the lime when this industry was at its
lowest point, and the following table (IV.) shows the increase in
numbers that has taken place -at certain subsequent dates for
which ofiicial returns or estimates are obtainable: —
1868.
Enumeration
Sept. 24, 1865.
Estimate 1878.
298,722
499,172
496,516
1,557,033
16,443,950
3,034,701
1,272,978
672,559
1,001,878
1,290,814.
2,904,598
22,054,967*
4,429,576
4,264,817
3,104
700,000
1,200,000
1,300,000
3,000,000
23,000,000
4,500,000
4,500,000
Mules
ASSRS
Cattle
Sheep
Goats
Camels
In 1865 horses were reared chiefly in the provinces of Seville,
Coruiia, and Cadiz, mules in Toledo. Cuenca, Teruel, Sarngossa.
and Badajoz, asses in Badajoz, Toledo, Murcia, - Seville, and
Granada, cattle in Oviedo, CorufSa, Leon, and Poutcvcdra, sheep
in Badajoz, Leon, Teruel, Soria, and Saragossa, goats in Cacercs
and Badajoz, camels mainly .on the Canary Islands, the total
number on the Spanish mainland at the date of the enumeration!
being less than a hundred. Badajoz was the richest of the pro-
vinces in live-stock of all kinds, containing about one-fourteenth
of the total number of domestic animals in the kingdom.
The only animals belonging to Spain still noted for their
excellence are mules and asses, which are recognized as the best to
be found anywhere. The quality of the horses has been greatly
improved, however, since the establishment of Government studs
more than forty years ago. Besides the cattle reared throughout;
the kingdom for field-labour and (in the northern provinces) foe
regular dairy farming, bulls for the great national pastime of bull-
fighting are specially reared in many parts of the country, par-»
ticularly in the forests of Navarre, the mountains separating the)
two Castiles, the Sierra Morena, and the Serrania de Eouda h*
Granada, and also in separate enclosures on the islands of the
Guadalquivir. Spanish sheep, which in former times enjoyed so
high a reputation and formed so important a part of the national
wealth, are far from having the same relative importance at the
present day, though sheep-rearing also is shaiing in the general
rise of agricultural and other industries. The most famous breeds
of Spanish sheep are the merinos or migrating sheep, which once
brought immense revenues to the state as well as to the large
proprietors to whom they mostly belonged. These sheep, wliicb
are distinguished by their long slim legs and still more by their
long wool, are pastured in diflerent districts in summer and winter.
Their winter quarters are in the lower parts of Leon and
Estremadura, La Mancha, and the lowlands of Andalusia, their
summer quarters the more mountainous districts to the east andt
north (Plasencia in the province of Caceres, Avila, Segovia, Cuenca;
Valencia), which are not so much afi'ected by the summer droughts
of the Peninsula. The mode of the migi'ation and the routes to
bo followed are prescribed by law. ^ Each herd consists of about
10,000 individuals, under the command of a mayoral, and is divided
into sections containing about 1000 each, each section under tha
charge of an overseer (capataz), who is assisted by a number of
shepherds (pastorcs) attended by dogs. The shepherds, rudely clad
in a sleeveless sheepskin jacket, the wool outside, and leather
breeches, and loosely wrapped in a woollen mantle or blanket, ara
one of the most striking and characteristic objects in a Spanish
landscape, especially on the tableland. The migration to tha
summer quarters takes place at the beginning of April, the return
at the end of September. At one time the owners of merino herds
enjoyed the right of pasturing their herds during their migrations'
on a strip of ground about 100 yards in breadth bordering the
routes along which the migrations took place, a strip which had
accordingly to he left uncultivated; but this right (the m&sto, as
it was called) was abolished in 1836 as prejudicial to cultivation.
Since that date the migrating sheep have been compelled to keep
the roads. The average quantity of wool exported in the five
years 1879-83 was about 9,000,000 lb. Even in the best of the'
years (1883-84) the total export of Spanish wool to all countries
was only about one-thirtieth of the total average import of that
commodity into the United Kingdom during the corresponding
period.
Bees are reared chiefly on the cistns heaths and the districts
abounding in iomillares (see p. 297). The rearing of the .silkworm
on the mulberry trees of the Mediterranean provinces has already
been referred to ; the total anbual production of raw silk in Valencis
is estimated at 1,500,000 lb, in Murcia at 600,000 lb, and in Cata-
lonia at 200,000 lb. The rearing of the cochineal-insect, which was
introduced into southern Spain in 1820, is being carried on with
more and more success, especially round Malaga, Velez-Malaga, and
Motril.
Fisheries. — The catching of tunnies, sardines, anchovies, and Hsbciies.
salmon on the coasts employs large numbers of fishermen, and the
salting, smoking, and packing of the first three give employment
to many others. Spanish fishermen likewise dive for coral on the
coasts of Andalusia and the north of Africa. The fishermen of
Catalonia and Valencia have the greatest reputation for their skill.
The centre of the principal tuuny fisheries of Spain is a small
rocky islet called Cristiua about three leagxies from the mouth of
the Guadiana. The fishing lasts from May to August, that of
sardines from August to the end of January. The average value
of the export of fish in 1879-83 was neariy £120,000.
Minerals. — The mineral resources of Spain are vast and varied,
but are as yet far from being adequately turned to account. No
European country produces so great a variety of minerals in large
amount, and in the production of copper ore, lead ore, and quick-
silver Spain heads the list. In the production of salt and silver it
is excelled only by Austria-Hungary, and, as regards silver, not
always even by it. The following table (V.) gives particulari
re.r^ardin" the production of some of the principal minerals it
the years named ' —
Industries.]
SPAIN
50i
1863.
1888. 1
Thousands
of Sletric
Tons'
produced.
Thousands
of Metric
Tons
produced.
Value in
thousands
of Pounds
at tho
Mine.
Persons employed.
15
a
1
223
270
40
246
109
481
4,526
280
25
53
2,455
23
51
SO'
1 0!1
5DG1
1,405-3
157-5
88-3
1,094-5
209 t
66-4
17-4
463-6
13,157
14,874
3,578
539
9,716
2,991
1,.^72
371
7 235
472
110
72
2
684
1
111
94
fisn
2,5.50
2,538
193
14
1,265
309
297
108
1,305
766
871
92
16
38
13
97
53
465
iLead ore
Ai-Benliferous)
lead ore /
Copper ore
Zinc
Common salt ....
Coal
Of the minerals mentioned in the preceding table it will be seen
that iron and copper ores are those which show the greatest advance
as compared with 1863. The production of these two ores
advanced with rapid strides during the ten years 1874-1883. In
the former year the production of both stood at about 500,000
tons. The iron ore is chiefly obtained in Vizcaya and Murcia, the
former yielding by far the greatest quantity (in 1883 four-iifths
of the total production of Spain), but the latter yielding the best
quality (average value of Murcian iron in 1883, 6 pesetas = 4s. per
ton at the mine, .is against 2 25 pesetas, or Is. 9W., the average for
the yizcayan ore). All except a small fraction of the copper ore is
obtained from the province of Huelva, in which lie the well-known
mines of Rio Tinto. The lead ore is obtained chiefly in Murcia and
Jaen. The famous mines of Linares belong to the latter province.
Argentiferous lead is chiefly produced in Almeria, which also
produces most of the silver ore of other kinds except argentiferous
copper ore, which is entirely obtained from Ciudad Real. The
still more celebrated cinnabar (mercury) mines of Almaden, the
richest in the world till the discovery of the Californian mines of
New Almaden, belong to Ciudad Real, and this province, together
with that of Oviedo, furnishes the whole of the Spanish production
of this mineral. Spanish salt is partly marine, partly derived
from brine-springs and partly from rock-salt, of which last there
is an entire mountain at Cardona in Barcelona. Coal is chiefly
obtained in Oviedo, Palencia, and Cordova. The production is
quite insignificant compared with the extent of the coal-bearing
beds, which are estimated to cover an area of about 3500 square
miles, of which nearly a third belongs to Oviedo, between one-
eighth and one-seventh to Burgos and Soria, and about one-tenth
to Teruel and Cordova. Among the less important Spanish minerals
are manganese (chiefly in Ciudad Real), antimony, gold, cobalt,
Bodic sulphate, sulphate of barium (barytes), phosphorite (a valu-
able manure, a variety of apatite found in Caceres), alum, sulphur,
kaolin, lignite, asphalt, besides a variety of building and orna-
mental stores.
The total number of mines (including springs for the production
of mineral waters) in operation in Spain in 1883 was 2620, and the
total number of labourers employed in them in that year was
57,626. The working of the mines is carried on under state
supervision. For this purpose the whole kingdom, including the
Balearic and Canary Islands, is divided into three sections, and
each of these into four districts. Each section is under the
charge of an inspector-general of the first class, and each of the
districts under an inspeoijr of the second class. By the law of
July 6, 1859, a large number of important mines, including all
the salt-works and rock-salt mines, were reserved as state property,
but financial necessities have compelled the Government to sur-
render one mine after another, so that at present the state possesses
only the cinnaTjar mines and some salt-works. Many of the mines
have been granted to foreign (principally English) companies.
Of the metallic ores produced in Spain, those of lead and
mercury aro the only ones which aro chiefly reduced in tlie
country. Though the working of iron is an industry of old
standing in Spain, and a primitive kind of forgo takes its name
from Catalonia (see Iron), tho total production of iron, refined
and unrefined, in Spain in 1883 was only 200,000 tons, and by far
the greater part of the Spanish ore is exported, as -will bo seen by
comparing Tables V. and VI. The production of iron in Spain is,
however, rapidly and steadily increasing, the total amount in the
first year of the decado ending in 1883 having been less than 00,000
tons. During the same decade the amount of copper produced in
tho kingdom increased from about 6000 to 32,000 tons. The
amount of steel produced in tho kingdom is quite insignificant
(little more than 400 tons in 1883). The following table (VI.)
gives particulars regarding the export of the chief mineral products
of Spain in 1883 :—
> A mcrrlc ton = 1000 klloftrammcs =^ 2205 lbs., or 35 lbs. less than a ton
avolrduiiols.
' ExdualTO of 100,000 toot produced la tho (ttto salt works of Torrcvlcjo
(AllciDte).
Iron ore
Argentiferous galena
Lead ore
Copper ore
Zinc ores—
Catamiue
Blende
Antimony ore
Manganese
Phosphorite
Iron
Argentiferous lead ._.
Noa-argentiferous lead (lui wrought)
Gold
Silver.. «
Mercury
^Vlought-iron and steel
Lead in tubes and other forms
Copper, brass, and bronze in i
plates, tubes, and other forms f
To United
Kingdom.
Metric Tons.
2,895,000
2,400
70
3,300
1,000
a'l.doo
51,000
Oz.
243
190,595
lbs.
910,037
.7,440
171,403
To France.
Metric Tons,
511,000
»,000
1,400
50.000
13,000
20.000
25,000
Oz.
622
549,090
Lbs.
23,924
68,70S
187,844
Total export to
all CoQQtriea.
Metric ToiH,
4,226,000"
13,000
2,500
465,000
30,000«
15,000«
70
4,500
66,00')»
30,000
61,000
77,000
Oz.
765
739,686
Lbs.
1,139,932«
186,510
646,425'
385,551
Manufactures. — At the census of 1877 only about 3 per cent of Mac-
the classified population was returned as engaged in manufactur- facturegi
ing industries. The principal manufacture is that of cotton, and
the follomng table, which shows the position of Spain relatively
to the other countries of Europe with reference to this branch of
manufacturing industry, will also serve to some extent as an index-
of the rank belonging to Spain in mechanical industries generally : —
Table VII. — Average Import of Raw Cotton for Borne Consumption
in the Principal Countries of Europe during 1879-1883.
Millions of lb.
j Millions of lb.
United Kingdom..
Germany
1460-8
336-9
309-6
242-6
176-6
116-0
Spain
100-3
94-8
54-7
53 «
21-6
Holland
France :
Russia
Austria-Hungary..
Italy
Sweden
The average import per head of population during the same
period was as fallows :— United Kingdom, 41-7 lb; Holland, 23-6;
Switzerland, 18-7; Belgium, 9-9; France, 8-2; Germany, 8-2;
Spain,6-0;-Austria-Hungary,r; 0; Sweden, 4-6; Italy, 4-0; Russia,
2-9. It thus appears that Spain occupies the seventh place in the
consumption of raw cotton, both in absolute amount and relatively
to population. In the five years 1874-78 the average import o£
raw cotton into Spain was 79,690,000 ft, so that the increase
of the average in the succeeding period of five years nmouuted
to 25-8 per cent. Nevertheless the products of this branch ofe
industry in the country do not yet suDice to meet the ivants of
the population. Thefe is every year a considerable import of
cotton manufactures, while the export of this commodity is too
trifling to be included in the list of chief exports. The maritime
provinces, being those most favourably situated for the import of
coal, and, where necessary, of raw material, are tho chief seats of
Spanish manufactures, and tho cotton industry is principally
centred in Catalonia and, above all, in Barcelona and the surround-
ing district. This region is indeed the jnly distinctively manu-
f.i,;turing portion o^ Spain, and in it also the manuiacturBs of linen
and -woollen goods and of lace are mainly carried on. Flax-
spinning and the manufacture of linen goods aro pursued to a
considerable e.xtont in Galicia and Asturias. The silk industry,
which is likewise of high importance, but inadeqiiato to meet the
home demand for silk fabrics, is chiefly centred in Valencia, next to
which come Murcia and Seville. Metal industries are chiefly carried
on in tho Basque Provinces, where various articles in iron and copper
are made. A royal factory for tho making of artillery and other
w-eapons of war exists at La Trubia, in Asturias. Toledo is still
rioted, as it has been from the earliest times, for the excellence of
its 8W-ord-blades. The manufacture of leather, another Spanish
industry of old renown, is still extensively carried on in Catalonia
and elsewhere, but the making of eordwain has long ceased to bo
a specialty of Cordova, from which it takes its name. Boots and
shoes and other articles in leather form the only considerable ex-
port of manufactured goods. Gloves are made in great quantity in
JIadrid, shoes in the Balearic Islands. The paper industry is very
flourishing, especially in Catalonia and Valencia. Esparto is twisted
into cords and ropes, and plaited into a variety of otner articles, in
Murcia and Alicante and elsewhere. Tho refining of cane-sugar is
largely carried on in Barcelona, Malaga, Almeria, and Granaila, and
' or this total 478,000 tons wcro exported to Holland, 143,000 to Bl:lKi■f^n, an4
199,000 to tho United States.
* All tho blende and one-third of the calamino wore exported to BelglQiD.
» Chiefly to PorluKal.
" Of ihi, total l.'.8,760 lbs. wore exported to Belgium.
( ChiuH/ t« Cuba.
302
SPAIN
[statistic*
the raalc!ng of olive oO au J brandy is genoral. So also is the malang
of charcoal, which in most parts of Spain takes the place of coal_ for
all ordinary heating purpo.<!es, and even in some cases in mechanical
industries. The large -furnaces for the distillation of mercury at
atmadon ven »t one time, if they are not still, heated solely with
charcoal obtained from the Cistus ladaniferus. Among manufac-
turing industries of le=5 importance are the malang of porcelain (at
the ro°yal factory of Mr,;cloa, near Madrid), glass and earthenware,
soap, chocolate, and cork-stoppers. The manufacture of tobacco,
which is a royal monopoly, is carried on at seven factories— at
Seville, Madrid, Santander, Gijon, Coruna, Valencia, and Alicante,
— that of Seville being the largest.
Foreign Conimei-ce.— Possessing such varied resources as it does,
•nd being pocnliarly favourably situated for commerce. Spain might
be expected to take a leading place among the trading communities
of Europe. This it did at one time hold, when the treasur*
acquired by the discovery of America and the conqopst of Mexico
and Peru was squandered in the purchase of various commodities
from England, the Netherlands, and other countries. This peiiod
of outward prosperity, however, was also that in which the seeds
of decline were planted. The expulsion of the Moors from
Granada was contemporaneous with the discovery of the New
World. Hundreds of thousands of J\iooi-s were dnven out from the
country on subsequent occasions, and in the act Spain lost the
best of her ag.iculturists and handicraftstaen. For the stay-at-
home industry bv which the resources of the land could be de-
veloped as they had been by the Moors the Spaniards of that day
had no taste. Excited by the hope of rapidly-acquii-ed wealth and
the love of adventure, the more enterprising spirits embarked upon
» oareer of discovery, and agrifultnre and manufacturing industry
fell into contempt. The mercantile supremacy of the country was
thus short-lived. Political causes supervened to hasten the
counti7'a decline, and it is only witliin recent time^ rince the in-
ti-oduction ot railways, that the commerce of the country has begun
to revive. The average value of the imports and exports combined
during the' period of ten years from 1876 to 1884 was equal to
rather less than £2 per head,' as against about £18 per head during
the dame period in the United Kingdom ; but even this state of
matters &hows a considerable advance compared with la59, when
the total value of the exnorts and imports was et^ual to only about
jEl, ] 2s. per head. The foUowing table (VIII.) gives total value in
round numbers of imports and exports, with percentages from and
to Great Britain and France, at various dates from 1849 (the year
after the opening of the first railway in Spain) to 1884 : —
Years.
Value of
ImportiS.
P. e.
from
Britain.
P c.
from
France.
Value of
Exports.
P.O.
to
Britain.
P. c.
to
France.
1X49
1860
INSf
1*70
187S
IQOO
1S81
1882
1883
li»4
£6,360,000
14,.'?33,C00
16,26>,0M
»o,8n,on«
22,812 000
29,482,000
26.023,000
3i667,00»
S^'-iSjOOO
»1,18«,000
25
2S.
M
34
18
n
21
21
n
25
84
sa
26
58
M
27
26
Z5
£5.240 000
10,982,000
12,864,000
15,982,000
18.081.000
20,999,000
HI 8.16,000
30,615,000
28 77» noO
24,768,000
»
29
89 •
84
32
83
31
«
in
27
16
16
35
as
41
43
43
On the average of the five years 1879-83 the principal exports,
|n the order of their importance, were wine, metals and mineral
ores, fruit, oil, ahd cork,— wine being by far the most valuable ;
the principal imports, in the order of their importance, raw cotton,
brandy and spkits, sugar, machinery, tobacco, coal and coke,
timber, cod-fish, iron (wrought and unwrought), hides and skins,
chemical products, cocoa, cotton manufactures, and mineral oila.
The large imports of cod-fish (from Norway and British North
America) are Jae to the large consumption of fish, especially during.
Lent ; the great demand for mineral oil as a source of light is a
conseouence of the dearness of coal. It ia interesting to 'note the
high place which cocoa takes among the imports. The average
import of that commodity is nearly double that of coftee, and that
of tea is quite insignificant (in 1884 only 155,777 lbs.).
The foreign commerce of Spain is chieflv carried on with the
tJnitcd Eingdt-m, France, Cuba, and the United States. In the
ten years 1878-82 Fmnce, the United Kingdom, and the United
States together (in the order named) furnished on an average
rather more than «7 per cent, of the imports, and the United King-
dom. France, and Cuba (also in the order named) received on an
average during the name period 76 per cent, of the exports Next
to the three countries mentioned, those which had the lareest
share in the import trade dunng the same period were Cuba,
Portugal, and the Argentine Confederation, and in the export trade
Portugal, tho United States, and the Arg.entin6 Confederation.
From, the United K^gdom Spain received in 1SS4 chiedy coal and
coke, iron and articles in iron (articles in wrought-iron and steel,
however. In rather greater amount from Belgium), locomotives
• An Increase'cf the population since 1877 at the raiaof -H s»' ««»'• »^ annmn
■llowed for la making tho calculatioiL
(also from Belgium), jute and jute yarn, hemp and flax yam.
sulphur (for use in tho vineyards), and alkaline carbonates ; froir
France, chieHy wool and woollen goods, silk and silk goods, and
wheat flour ; from the United States, petroleum, raw cotton, and
tobacco (also from the PhUippine Islands) ; from Cuba chiefly sugai
and fine woods ; from the Argentme Confederalion>chiefly untauned
hides 3nd skins and animal fats. 'Wheat' was received chiefly from
Russia, and spirits from Germany, which also supplied a large pro-J
portion of the sugar consumed in the country.
Of the principal export of Spain— wine— by far the greate*
proportion goes to France. In 1884 that country received four-
fiftns of the common wine, and the quantity i» rapidly increasing.
The wine classed as full-bodied also went chiefly to France, but
that entered under the head of sherry and similar wines fraij
imported chiefly by the United Kingdom. The destination of
the minerals is shown above (Table VI.). Oranges were sent
mainly to the United Kingdom, France, the United States, and
Germany ; raisins chiefly to the United States and the United
KiD<Tdom ; olive oil chiefly to Cuba, Denmark, and France, but m
considerable quantity also to other countries ; esparto gi-ass almoot
entirely to England ; cork and wool chiefly to Portugal and
France ; cattle chiefly to Portugal and England ; raw silk mainly
to France ; and wheat fiou'r and chickpease chiefly to tho Spanish
Wsst Indies
The foreisn ti-ade of the country is of course carried on mainly
by sea. In 1884 more than 80 per cent, both of the imports and
exports were transmarine, and of the land commerce by far the
largest proportion is with or through France. The smallness of
the trade with Portugal, which on uu a-erage furnished less than
14 per cent, of the imports and received less than 5,^ per cent, of
the exports during 1S73-92, is partly due no doubt to tho similarity,
of the chief products of tho two countries, but also to the defective-
ness of the communications between the tn-o countries, a cireuna-
stance largely accounted for by the physical conditions already
alluded to. The introduction of radways has as yet only partially
served to bring the countries into more intimate relations. On the
fii-st of January 1885 not a single line connected with the general
system of Spanish railways entered Portugal north of the Tagus,
though Lisbon was connected by rail both with Madnd by way of
Caceres and with Valencia by way of Ciudad Real and Albacete.
At tho date mentioned, however, a railway intended to eonpecl;
Salamanca with the mouth of the Afondego was in course of con--
struction, and a branch from the Portuguese coast-line in the north
was m process of being connected with the Spanish railway to
Coruna, and by way of Leon with other northern seaports.
The foreign commerce ot Spain is greatly hampered by the
number and amount of tho custom duties, which are imposed on all
the principal articles both of export and import. On imports tho
duties vary from 6 to 28-33. per cent, of the value of tho com-
modities, the highest duties being upon cotton yarn, sugar, and
cocoa (to protect home or colonial industries). For protective
reasons high import dntiea are levied also on iron manufactures^
woollen manufactures, live animals, colfee, and wine. Export
duties are levied mostly in proportion to quantitj'. In the case of
8b»rry it amounts to 200 pesetas (£8) per hectolitre (22 gallons);
full-bodied wines pay 112 pesetas per hectoliti-o, and ordinary wiii^
33 pesetas per hectolitre. In the case of " the most favoured
nations slight reductions are made in the amount of the duties,
and under a treaty which came into operation on the 15th of August
1886 Great Britain enjoys the benefit of the most favoured nation
treatment in consideration of a redaction in the import duties levied
at British ports on Spanish wines. .,.,,.,
Shipping and Navigation.— B,^\aiivelj to the extent of its coast- ^Wf
Una and the aamber and excellence of its seaports (of which there j oif
are sixty on the Alediterranean coast, ftfty-stx on the Atlantic), the
amount of shipping belonging to Spain is small. In 1884 tho
total register tonnage was 524,000 tons, not much more than that
of Sweden at the same date, and only about half that of Italy. .Tho
number of vessels was 1803, including 301 steamers. Nearly half
the transmarine imports (reckoned by value) and 58 per cent, of tho
transmarine exports were carried under a foreign flag. The following
table (IX. ) gives further particulars as to the shipping of 1884 :—
NatlonaU.-
British
Dnti.li
French
German
Greelc
luiitan
Norwegian..
Russian
Swedish
Total (under all flags)..
Metric Tons (in Thou-
sands) of Carco.
Discharged.
G23
1.194
11
174
M
41
131
121
GO
fi7
V2760
Loaded.
700
38CG
64
666
U3
2
16S
67
27
Pcixentage of Total.
Imports.
22-6
60.-5
0-3
6-3
27
1-5
4-7
4-3
2-1
2-1
E.xports.
, 13-0
'G5'7
03
11-3
8-1
2'8
11
0-4
0-7
STATISTICS.]
SPAIN
303
The following table (X.) gives the number, kc, of ships entered
(ind cleared with c.nrgo at Spanish ports in 18S4 : —
Entered from
Algcri.)
Itelpiini
Cuba
I-Vnnci:
Nonvay
riiilipplne Islands....
United Kingdom
Total from nil \
countries /
Under the Spanish FIrtg.
So. of
Vessels.
C53
i'su
1,974
17
07
1.120
5,633
CnpncUy
in Tons.
Metric
Tons
Dis-
charged
Under Forelpn Fines.
No. of
Vessels.
74.122 17,883
110,744
711.241
3.551
]f)4,278
712,o6.1
2,370,861
37,522
14n.0J5
2,033
19.2.56
240,303
623,150
n
1,0.>5
201
1,721
Capacity
in Tons.
on.soo
lfil.122
29.121
4-'>2.970
81.796
Metric
Tons
Dis-
charged.
4.n.'iT
54.587
493
109.0,71
35.850
900,13.5 ^ 1,250,235
2.091,676 21.17 222
1
t Under the Spanish Flng.
Cleared for
No. of
Vessels.
AlRCrla I 536
Bei-ium ■ so
Cuba. I 4!j!)
France 2 347
Norway j
Pliilippine Islands....] '94
United Kingdom 907
Total for alllf
countries..../ ■
5,200
Capacity' "'"■]':
in Tons. , f''f .
I Loaded.
Under Foreign Flags.
No. of
Vessels.
76.5.S3
60.548
OI^'OSS
1.120.C07
24.T245
638,513
3,000,207
13,476
17,893
97,553
226,713
8,849
200,578
706,303
36
145
7
1,858
73
3,790
7,a?4
Capacity
in Tons.
iletric
Tons
Loaded.
49.128 I
110.538
14.S54
930.247
28,524
2,988,867;
5,639,259
C21I
119,105 ,
I'll
C'.i.5.4ns I
24.107
5,114,083
iTlio total number of vessels entered with car"0 nnder the
national and loreign ilagg in 1884 was thus 11,122, and the total
, quantity of cargo dischaiged by them at Spanish ports 2,760,378
metnc tons, the total number of vessels denied witli ear^o 13 110
and the total quantity of cargo taken on board by them a°t Spanish
ports 5,880,385 metric tons. Of the total number of vessels
entered with cargo 6768 were steamers, which dischar<red 2,05-' 937
tons of cargo, and 4354 were sailing vessels, which dischar'^ed
/0;,441 tons of cargo. Of the number of vessels cleared mth
f.';^ 111'^ '"'■^ steamers, which took on board at Spanish ports
^,300 366 metric tons of cai'go, and 3604 were sailing vessels,
Vhich took on board 580,019 metric tons of cargo.
Comviiimcalion.—'rhe communications in Spain have been
greatly improved since the beginning of the present century In
1808 there were little more than 500 miles of carriage roads but
now there are over 28,000. At the end of 1882 14,600 miles were
sUti^ roads, all well built and well maiiitaiued, and 3027 miles of
state roads were in course of construction. The a^o-rcc^ate length
of the provincial roads then completed was 2714 miles,' and th.at
ofthe communal roads 10,760 miles. In the mountainous districts
where there arc only narrow paths, frequently rather steep, it is
. still not uncommon to meet long trains of mules.
Kailways have made great advance since the middle of the
century. The oldest lino is that from Barcelona to JIataro, 17'
, miles, which was opened on- the 28th of October 1848. Of late
years railu-.ay construction has been going on pretty rapidly. In
1880 the number of miles open for tralhc was 4645 and in the
four succeeding years it was 4800, 4S67, 5118, and 6386. All the
Spanish railways belong, to private companies, but most of them
have obtained subventions frnm the Government, to which most of
the Spanisl! railways will revert at the end of a term of ninety-
nine years. In granting a concession for a new railway the regular
practice is to give it to whatever company offers to constrirct it
witli the lowest subvention. The total amount 6t the subventions
tor railway construction up to the end of 1884 was £25,676 690.
I'or strat.-gical reasons tho Spanish gauge was made dillerent from
tliat of France.
The postal and telegraphic systems havo been placed on the
samo footing as in other civilized countries. The total nnml;.T of
letters, post-cards, and samples (inclii.ling official and international
,, •'„*°-^ '•^'" I""'^'^ thron-h tho post office in 1882-83 was
Ji' '"'"'°,"'- „,'^''^''="S"' of state teh-grnphic lines on .Janu.iry 1,
1883 was 10,604 miles, and nf wires 25,989 miles. Tho number of
-messages in 1833 was 3,020,000, nearly 80,000 being transit mes-
s.ag<-s and 6o4,000 from or to foreign r.iiintries
: ^Irm;/ and Kamj.—SliVaary (or naval) sei-vico is obligatory on
all Spaniard.-, but in certain cases recruits are allowed to buy
themselves olT. According to tho law of January 8, 1S82, tli..
period of service for all arms is twelve yeais, of which throe yearn
must be passed with tho colours, tliice years in the active rebcivc,
and SIX years in the second reserve. Tho minister of war is
empowered however, on linanci.-il groun.ls to transfer tro..,.s
serving with tho colours to the nctive lescrve beO.re tli.' period '.f
thi-eo years .service has been rnlliljed. Liabilitv to servi'u begins
;.v_;.h the first day of the cahndar year in whieh'tlio twentieth year
lis completed. Persons holdiin; a civil appointment or pursuing
any handicraft independently are allowed to buy themselves off for
1500 pesetas (£60), and brothers are allowed to take each others'
place in service, or to exchange the numbers tli,it have fallen to
them by lot in tho raising of the recruits for tho year. For cari-y-
ing out the law Spain, is divided into fourteen milftary districts,
the boundaries of which do not at all coincide with those of pro-
vinees.
The actual strength of the regular nrmy is fixed at about 94,000
men for the kingdom (including tho Balearic and Canary Islands),
hut this lunnber may be brought up to 400.000 in time of war.
The strength of tho regular army in Cuba is about 22,500 men, in
I'orto Kico about 3200, and dn the riiilij.pine Islands about S200.
The active army is divided into 140 batt.ilions, besides tho .samo
number of depot and reserve battalions ; 24 cavalry iciinents, and
the same nuu:bcr of depot squadrons and reserve cavalry rciments;
9 regiments of field artillery, and 3 of mounted artillery, Eesides 6
reserve regiments of artillery, and 10 battalions of engincei-s.
There are also 13 battalions of fortress ai-tillery.
The following statement shows the strength of the navy in
1885 : — First Class— i ironclad frigates (55 guns), 4 screw fri"atc3
(97 giins), 6 cruisers (48 guns); Second Class— 5 frigates (104 guns),
3 cruisers, 12 corvettes and troopships (39 guns); Tkird Class— \
ironclad monitor (3 guns), 1 fioating batteiy, 79 gunboats, trans-
ports, &c. (124 guns).
, There were at the same time building one ironclad of tho first
class, five cruisers of the second class, besides torpedo boats, tu".s,
and other vesselfi. For the defence of the colonies, and more par-
ticularly those of the West Indies, there are thirty-five screw
gunboats, all of the same size (about 5 feet draught), and each
carrying a 100-pounder pivot-gun at the bow.
The navy is manned by conscription in the luaritimo districts.
In 1885 the number of seamen was about 14,000, that of marines
about 7000.
Rellijion. — Roman Catholicism is the established religion, and Religion
tho church and clergy are maintained by the state. The immense
majority of tho people (in 1877 16,603,959 out of a total of
16,634,345) arc professed adherents of this faith, so that, so far as
numbers go, Spain is still the most "Catholic" countrv'in the
world, as it has long been styled. According to AVillkom'm, how-
ever, religions iiidillercntism is now very general, not only among
tho educated but also among the lower classes ; and of the bigotry
and fanaticism wdiich in former times led to the destruction of
hnndrcds of thousands of victims at tho hands of tho Inquisition
the only traces at the present day are to be found, says the same
authority, in the provinces of Aragoii, Navarre, and Estremadura,
where the clergy still exerci.se a considerable influence over the
lower orders. By the constitution of 1876 non-Catholics are per-
mitted to e.'iercise their own forms of worship, but they must do
so in jirivate and without making any public annonnecmeiit of
their services. At the census of 1877 tho total number of I'ro-
testants was 6654, a number below that of tlioso entered as
rationalists (9645). There are nine archbishoprics (Toledo, Madrid,
Burgos, Granada, Santiago, Saiagossa, Seville, Tarragona, Valencia,
and Valladolid) and forty-live bishoiirics. ._ The archbi.shop of
Toledo is primate.
Editcalioii. — 'Qy the law of July 17, 1857, primary education was Educ»
declared compulsory on all chiMrcn of .school age (originally fixed tion.
at six to nine) and mado free to the poor, but tho results of the
census of lf-77, though showing an advance in elementary educa-
tion as compared with previous years, makes it diar that this law
is far from being elliriently carried out. At that date the total
number who could both read and write was 4,071,823, equal to
24-48 ]per cent, of the iiopiihitiou, as against 19-97 per cent, in
1860. The provinces in which the peiccntago of those able to read
and write was greatest were Alava, liuigos, rontevedia, Madrid,
Santander; those in which it was hast weio the Canary Islands,
Granada, Malaga, Almeria, Alicante, C'MStellon.
There are ten universities— those of ilailrid (founded in 1836
to replace the longcchbiated university of Alcala), liari-eloiia,
Granada. Salamanca, Seville, Valencia, .'Jantiago, Saiagossa,
Voll.idoli.1, and Oviedo ; that of Jladiid is now the most celebrated
and the best attended, \vliile that of Salamanca, so renowned in
the Middle Ages, is now in least repute.
PoliLkitl yliliiiiiii.i/intio,i. —Spnin is an hereditary nionnrchy, tht
constitution oC which rusts on the fundamental law of Juno 80,
1876. The sovereign becomes of ngo on ennipleting his or her six-
teenth year. The sovereign is grandmaster of the eight Spanish
orders of knighthood, the |.iiniipal of which is that of tho Golden
Fleece (Toisou do Oro), foumleil in 1431 by I'lillip of Ihiignndy.
The chain of this order snrround.s the royal arms, in which are
included, besides the arms of Castile, l.cnii, Gran.ada, and the lilies
of the royal house of Uonrl.on, the arms of Au.stria, Sicily, ."savoy.l
Ihulinnt, and otlnre. The iintioiinl colours iini red and yellow.
The Hag is divideil into three horizontal stripes — two i-cd stripes.
with a yellow one between bearing tho royal arms.
The kgislativu authority is cvercised liy tho sovoroigh in con-
junction with tho cortcs, a body composed of two lioiises— a senato'
304
SPAIN
[history.
and a chamber of deyintiVs. Tlio senate is composed of members
of three classes: — (1) numbers by right of birth or office — princes,
the wealthier nobles holding the rank of grandee (grandc), a dignity
conferred by the king either for life or as an hereditary honour,
and the highest state officials ; (2) members nominated by the king
for life ; and (3) members elected by the state corporations and by
the most highly taxed subjects of the state for a period of five
years. The members belonging to the first two classes must not
exceed 180 in number, and there may be the same number of
members of the third class. The chamber of deputies consists of
members elected for five years, in the proportion of one deputy for
every 50,000 of the population. The electors must be twenty-five
years of age and must have paid land-tax of twenty-five pesetas (£1)
for one year, or an industrial tax of fifty pesetas for two years.
The e-xecative administration is entrusted to a responsible minis-
try (consejo de ministros), in which the presidency belongs eitlier to
one of the 'ministers or to a president without portfolio. There
are eight ministerial departments — the first secretaryship of state,
to which belongs the management of foreign aflairs, the secretary-
ships of great and justice, finance, and the interior, the department
for the promotion of material and intellectual interests ysecrctaria
de forrumlo), and the secretaryships of war, marine, and the colonies.
The civil administration is under the secretary for the interior.
In each province is a civil governor nominated by the crown, and
the governor presides over a council, the members of which are
elected by the representatives of each commune {ayuntamiento).
Law and Jiistice. — Spanish law is founded on the Koniau law,
the Gothic common law, and the national code proclaimed at the
meeting of the cortes at Tc-o in l.'iOl (the leiie-i d' Tow). There
is a court of first instance in each of the 501 parlidos judicialcs into
which the kingdom is divided ; and a court of second instance in
each of 15 aiidioicias temtorialcs into which iho partidos judicialcs
are grouped; and there sits at Mai^ rid a supreme court modelled
on the Vi-nmh. cour dc cassation. The" administration of justice is
public. Except in commercial cases the parties to a suit must
ulways be represented by sworn counsel {ahogados fiscales).
Finance. — The following statement (Table XI.) shows the equi-
valent in English money of the budget estimates for the years
noted ; it should be explained, however, that these estimates have
only a limited value, inasmuch as the public accounts of Spain
have not been audited since 1870, and have not been passed by the
.cortes since 1867 : —
Years;
1860-61
1870-71
1874-75
1877-73
18S0-31
Revenue.
.■C18,923,440
27,901,745
21,792,000
29,43i,000
31,066,031
Expenditure.
£13,773,093
32,819,424
20,821,000
29,430,000
33,466,047
Years.
1S81-S2
1932-83
1883-84
1884-85
1885-86
Revenue.
431,492,920
31,259,769
39,095,075
31,444,682
34,900,575
Expendtcnre.
£32,584,598
31,573,083
32,053,999
31,003,069
35,885,869
The chief heads of revenue, according to the budget estimates
of 1885-86, were — excise (includ. ng stamp duties and government
monopolies), £10,534,480; direct taxes on land, trade, mines, &c.,
£10,393,920; ta.ies on Government salaries, registration, &o.,
£o,36S,000 ; customs, £5,300,000. The chief items of expenditure
were— the charges of the public debt, £10,966,937; the charges of
the ministry of war, £6,05Q,944 ; those connected with the adminis-
tration of state property, £5,748,593 ; the charges belonging to the
ministerio de f omenta, £4,177,983; those of grace and justice,
£2,237,844; those of marine, £1,756,022.
i'he expenses of quelling the insurrection in Cuba of 1868-73,
and those subsequently arising out of a civil war in the Peninsula,
raised the total amount of the Spanish debt on the 1st of January
1881 to about £512,000,000 ; but, as it was by that time manifest
that Spain was unable to meet the obligations thus incurred, an
arrangement was come to by which the capital and interest of the
debt were reduced. The bulk of the debt now bears interest at the
rate of 4 per cent., and on the 1st of October 1884 the capital stood
at 6356 million pesetas, or £254,250,000, and the total aniSual
charge was 238 million pesetas, or £9,522,857. The principal
items are the perpetual foreign debt, amounting in October 1884 to
£78,840,000, a perpetual internal debt, amounting in OcJober 1884
to £77,840,000, and a redeemable debt ^internal and external)
amounting to £70,480,000.
Czirrcncy, Weights, and Measures. — The French monetary systefll
and the metric system of weights and measures have been intro-
duced— the latter in 1859, the former in 1871. In the case of the
weights and measures the French names also have been adopted,
with only the necessary linguistic changes. In the case of the
currency the old Spanish name of peseta was retained for the unit
(the franc), and the peseta is divided into 100 cenlimos. According
to the present value of the peseta, therefore, 25 pesets? may be taken
as about equal to £1. Previously to the introduction of the French
monetary system the peseta was the fifth part of a peso duro, which
was equal to 20 rcales de vellon, or rather more than a five-franc
piece. The only, paper money in Spain consists of the notes of the
Banco de Espana.
Bibtiography.— The most comprehensive work on the Reography of Spain l» the
Diccionario GeograjicQ'historico e SCatistico de las Provincias de Espana of Madoj;,
16 vols., 1846-50. A more summary account is contained ia the HeseHas
Geografica, Geologica, y Agricola de Espana, by D. Fr. Coello, Ac, Madrid,
1859 ; and in Die Pyrenditche Halbinsel, by Dr Moritz AVillltomm, Leipsic,3 vols.,
1834-86. Numerous notices regarding the geography of Spain are to be found
in the Bolftin ae la Sociedad Geografica de Madrid. See also F. Garrido, Lu
Espana Contemporanea, Barcelona, 2 vols., 1865-67 (the French edition,
Biussels, 1862, is comparatively meagre) ; Davillier, L'Espagne, Paris, 1873; A.
J. C. Hare, M'anderings in Spain ; A. Gallenga, Iberian Reminiscences, London,
1883; Webster, 5;)ain, London, 1SS2; Harrison, Spain, Boston, 1882; Iliggin,
Commercial and Industrial Spain, London, 1886 ; together witii the guide-books
of Ford (Jlurray) and O'Shea (Blacli).
Tile botany of Spain is very fully treated in various works by Wilikomm.
Besides the Prodromus Florx Hi?panicx, Stuttgart, 3 vols. 4to, 1861-80, the
most important are JllustraCioncs Florx Hispanic, Stuttgart. 1881. Ac fol and
Die Strand, und Steppengebiele dcr iber. Hi'binscl,. Lelpsic, 1852, 8vo. Of another
flora by Don M. Colmeiro, entitled Enumeracidn de las Plantas de la Peninsula
IHspanO'Lutitaita e Islas Balcares, one volume has been published (Madrid, 188^.
It is expected to oe completed in 4 vols.
Theie is no recent general work on the ;;oology of Spain.
The geology of the Iberian Peninsula is treated in a series of articles, illustrated
by several maps, by D. Federico de Botella, in the above-mentioned Bolelin, vol.
ii.. 1877. See alsoMacpheraon, Succession Estratigrafica de los Terrenos Arcaicos
de Espana; W. K. Sullivan, Notes on the Geology and Mineralogy of the Spanish
Provinces of Santander and Madrid. The geological maps of Spain already com-
pleted are those of De Vemeuil and Collomb, Paiis, 1864, 2d ed. (now out of
print) 1868, and De Botella y de Homos, Madrid, 1879. A geological sui-veyof
the provinces of Spain is now in progress, and on the conclusion of the survey a
map will be published in sixteen sheets on the scale of 1: 400,000.
Among the more important annual or peiiodical official statistical publicationa
are the Estadistica General del Comercio Eseterior de Espana; Bo.elm Mensual
dt Estadistica Bemograjico-Sanilaria ; Siluacion de los Ferrocarriles ; and Esta-
distica Minera de Espana.
The best topographical map of Spain is that of C. Vogel, In four sheets, in
Stieler's Hand Atlas, on the scale of 1 : 1,500,000. Among other maps that may
be referred to are that of D. Fr. Coello, scale 1 : 1,000,000, Madrid, 1861. and the
Mapa Jtinerario Mitiiar de Espana Formadopor el Cuerpo de Estado Mayor del
EJercito en 1S6S, scale 1: 500,000. An excellent map, on the scale of 1: 50.000,
indicating tiie elevations by means of contour lines at mtervals ol 20 metres, and
by figures for particular spots (the elevations reduced to the mean level of the
Mediten-anean at the port of AliCfinte), and distinguislihig cultivated and un-
cultivated ground, and in the formci dtstinguisinng nuertas, gardens, oiiveyarda,
vinevards, orangeries, &c., where they exceed an area of 10 hectares, is now being
published by tlie Institute Geografico y Estadistico de Madrid. Of this map,
however, only about 20 out of lOSO sheets have as yet been issued. Amonif
those which have already appeared is that containing Madrid. (G. G, C.)
PAET II.— HISTORY.
Section I. — Ancient Histojiy.
Hispania was the name by which the Romans called the
great peninsula made up of Spain and Portugal, but we
know nothing certain as to the origin of the name, or
whether it was in general use among the ancient inhabit-
ants of the country.'-
To the Greeks Spain, or rather its coast-line on the
Mediterranean, was known vaguely as Iberia, a name we
meet with in Herodotus (i. 163) in connexion with the
Phoenician Tartessus, which is generally understood to
have been the country about the mouth of the Guadal-
quivir and to be the Tarshish of Scripture. It was the
Phocaeans, a branch ot the Ionian Greeks settled in Asia
Minor, who according to Herodotus first opened up to the
' Humboldt derives it from the Basque c.'pana-(border), as signifying
the part of Europe bordering on the ocean, but his conjecture seems
strained and fanciful.
Greek world this remote region of the extreme West, which
had hitherto been a land of mystery and enchantment,
imagined to be the home of the setting sun, and known
only by the reports of adventurous Phoenician mariners.
The hero-god Hercules, it was fabled, had left traces of
his presence and mighty working here, and the twin rocks
at the entrance of the Mediterranean were called by his
name, "the Pillars of Hercules,"— the "world's end "to
the Greeks, nothing but the all-encircling ocean-river
lying beyond. The Greeks seem .to have planted no
colonies in Spain, with the exception of Emporium, on the
coast just under the eastern spur of the Pyrenees, founded
probably from Massilia (Marseilles) by the Phocaeans, and
perhaps of Saguntum. In fact they had but very hazy
notions about the country, and Iberia, as they called it,
was to them little more than a name for an indefinite
extent of territory iu the Far West, in the occupation of
o
tJNDER CAKIU ICIXIANs.]
SPAIN
305
barbarous Cells and IbL'iiaus, witb some Phccnician settle-
ments for tlic purposes of trade on its southern coasts.
Several of tlieie places ■were jnst known to them by name ;
but even of Gades, rich and populous as it seems to have
been in quite early days, nothing but vague hearsay had
reached them, and Herodotus, who mentions it as Gadeira
(iv. 8), merely defines its position as " on the ocean outside
of (beyond) the Pillars of Hercules." Tarraco, one of the
oldest and most important of the cities of Spain, and one
of which we hear continually in the subsequent history of
the countrj-, was also in all probability a Phoenician
colony. There are still here remains of very ancient walls,
possibly Phoenician work. Gades, Tartessus, Tarraco, all
seem to have been of Phccnician origin' and of unknown
antiquity, and they were flourishing places in the 7 th
century B.C., when the Greeks first made a slight acquaint-
ance with them, — an acquaintance, however, which they
did not follow up. The result is that we really know
nothing about Spain till the first war between Rome and
Carthage (264-211 B.C.). There was indeed, in the 4th
century B.C., an embassy to Alexander the Great from the
remote West, of Gauls and Iberians, and from that time
learned Greeks began to discuss the geography of Spain.
But again the country drops out of sight till the 3d
century B.C., when we find a close conne.\ion established
between it and Carthage, which, being itself a Phccnician
colony, would feel itself almost at home on the southern
shores of Spain. According to Polybius, Carthage (before
the First Punic War) had acquired at least something
like a protectorate over the Iberian tribes as far as the
Pyrenees, the then recognized boundary between the
Iberians and Celts, — between, in fact, Spain and Gaul.
Spanish troops served as volunteers in Carthaginian
armies. There must have been a good deal of Phoenician
blood in the south of Spain lor many centuries, and this
3srtha. no doubt prepared the w^ay for Carthaginian ascendency
jiDian jn tjjg country. Not, however, till after the First Punic
'^y ' War and the loss of Sicily was there anything that could
be called a Carthaginian empire in Spain. It was in 23T
B.C. that Hamilcar Barca, the father of Hannibal, crossed
the Straits of Gibraltar and set foot in Spain, not, how-
ever, with any commission from the home Government
a*; Carthage, but with the deliberately formed design of
making the country, with its warlike population and great
mineral wealth, into a Carthaginian province, and ulti-
mately into a basis of operations in a future war with
Rome (see Hajiilcae, Hasdrubal, Hannibal). There
were rich mines in the mountains, which had drawn the
Phoenicians some way into the interior, and among the
native tribes there were the elements of a brave and hardy
soldiery. A good army might very well be organized and
paid out of the resources of Spain. All this Hamilcar
clearly saw, and in the true spirit of a statesman he set
himself to the work, not merely of subjugating the coun-
try, but of making the Spaniards into loyal subjects of
Carthage. He encouraged marriages between his officers
and soldiers and the native women : his own son Hannibal
married a Spanish woman. He showed them how to
work th^ir gold and silver mines to the best advantage ;
in every way, in short, he made them feel that he was
their friend. The great work of which he had laid the
foundation was carried on after his death in 228 by his
son-in-law Hasdrubal, under whom New Carthage, with its
fine harbour, founded probably by Hamilcar, became the
capital of the country. It would seem that by this time
the Carthaginian empire in Spain was as firmly established
Over the southern half of the country as the fickle and
uncertain temper of the native tribes would admit. The
' For tho Phoenician colonization of Spain, see PncENlcu, vol.
xviii. p. 80(3.
22-l:i
Spaniard of that da}*, as indeed more or less tliroughout
his whole history, was particularly amenable to personal
influence, and an Hamilcar or a Hannibal could sway him
as he pleased. From 228 to 221 Hasdrubal was e.vtending
and strengthening the Carthaginian rule in Spain, while
the Romans werrf fighting in Cisalpine Gaul. One pre-
caution, indeed, they had taken, an understanding with
Hasdrubal, which might be regarded as a treaty, that the
Carthaginian conquests were not to be pushed east of the
Fbro. West of that river there w^as one town, Saguntum,
a Greek colony, in alliance with Rome; this Hasdrubal
had spared. His successor, Hannibal, after two years'
continuous fighting, which resulted in the submission of
hitherto unconquered tribes and the undisputed supremacy
of Carthage throughout almost all Spain, attacked and
took the jilace in 218. '
This was the beginning of the Second Punic War. Spain
was now for the first time entered by Roman armies,
under the command of the two Scipios, — the brothers
Cneius and Publius. Six years of hard fighting ended
in the defeat and death of these two brave men, but in
210 the son of Publius, the elder Africanus, struck a,
decisive blow at the Carthaginian pov/er in Spain by the
sudden capture of New Carthage. The war, however,
still dragged on till 205, in which year it may be said
that Spain, or at least that part of it which had been
under Carthage, was fairly conquered by the arms of Roman
Rome. Andalusia, Granada, Murcia, Valencia, Catalonia, conqued
Aragon, may be said to have become Roman territory.
Rome had now to deal simply with the native Spaniards,
without the fear of any foreign interference. Hence from
205 the reduction of the country into a Roman province
was only a matter of time. It proved, however, to be a
tedious and troublesome work, and more than once Rome's
hold on Spain was seriously imperilled. , An oppressive
governor, or a governor without tact and sympathy, was
sure to unsettle the restless and impressionable tribes,
and to stir up all manner of dangerous jealousies and
heart-burnings. The Scipios, the elder Africanus espe-
cially, knew how to manage the people, and j'et even in
205, tho year of those brilliant successes of Africanus,
there was a great rising of several of the tribes, headed by
a local chieftain, against the dominion of Rome. It was
quelled after a sharp engagement; there was a general
submission on the part of tho Spaniards, and many of them
became Roman tributaries. It was some time, however,
before the country, or even the southern half of it, was
really subdued'into complete peace and order. The moun-
tains and the forests were a formidable obstacle to the
Roman legions, and favoured that guerilla warfare which
makes conquest slow and laborious. For a long period
many of the tribes were rather the allies and dependants
of Rome than her subjects, and might at any moment bo
roused into war. In fact, Rome's dominion west of the
Ebro — Further Spain (Hispania Ulterior), as the province
was called — must for very many years have been little
more than nomins^ Rome's policy was to keep tho native
tribes disunited, and to have as many of them as possible
under a friendly prqtectorate. There seem to have been
wide differences between these tribes, — .some, especially
those in the interior and in tho north, being fierce and
utterly barbarous, and others in the south and south-west
comparatively mild and civilized. Tho Celtiberi, in tho
interior, were a group of warlike tribes, and were always
uncertain and intractable. At one time they would fight
for Rome ; at another they would sepo as mercenaries for
Rome's bitter foe, the Carthaginian. Continually were
they breaking out into revolt and defying tho arms of
Rome. The " Celtibcriau War " often figures in tho
pages of Roman histories, and it gcnorallv meant a war
306
s p A I :n
Ihistoey.
Mom-
■(us.
Slar-
•thua.
involving the greater part of Spain. In 195 the elder
Cato had to put down a rising in the country, m which
^the Celtiberi took the lead, but he offered them favour-
'able terms,, and showed himself particularly anxious to
conciliate them. His Spanish campaigns were so far a
Success as to establish the Roman power east of the l!.bro,
and along with peace and order came better administra-
tion and a development of the resources of the distriQt novr
known as Hither Spain (Hispania Citerior). Cato is said
to have disarmed the inhabitants of this part of Spain, and
to have even compelled the Spaniards, from the Pyrenees
to the Guadalquivir, to pull down their fortifications, but
stillthe smouldering fires of rebellion were not trampled
out. Some few years afterwards, in 179 and 178 w^e find
the father of the famous Gracchi governor of Hither
Spain, and fighting with the troublesome Celtiberi, win-
ning victories over them, capturing one hundred and three
of their towns, and then securing his conquests by show-
ing himself as great in peace as he had been in war. lie
feeems to have anticipated in Spain the work attempted
by his sons in Italy, making grants of land on favourable
conditions to the poorer natives. . Much must have been
accomplished by Gracchus towards producing contentment
with the Eoman rule, but in the west, in the valleys of
the Douro and the Tagus, and in the region known as
Lusitania, answering to Portugal, there seems to have been
almost, incessant fighting, and what one general won
another general often lost. Under Mummius, a governor
of Further Spain (154),— the Mummius who in 14b
took and sacked Corinth,— the Eomans suffered a
disastrous defeat from the Lusitanians, of which the
Celtiberi took prompt advantage, and there was another
Roman defeat, with a massacre of Roman citizens in one
of the towns of the interior. These losses were avenged
in 152 by Claudius MarceUus, grandson of Hannibal s
illustrious antagonist, during whose command in Spam
Cordnba is said to have been established as a Roman
colony. Marcellus was too humane and considerate to
the Spaniards to suit the ideas of the Roman senate, w'hich
we may well suppose to have been greatly provoked by
the trouble which Spain had given them. The new
governors, Lucius Lucullus and Servius Galba, by a
combination of perfidy and extortion, drove the country
into a most formidable revolt, with which the Romans
whose hands were tied by the Third Punic War, could
not for some time effectually deal. A guerilla chief of
■Lusitania (which had been specially ill-treated by the
Romans), Yiriathus, headed the revolt, and from 147 to
140 army after army of the Romans was cut to pieces ; the
formidable Celtiberi had joined his standard, and Spam
seemed well-nigh lost to Rome. A treaty was even
extorted by Yiriathus from one of the Roman commanders,
declaring the independence of the Lusitanians, and it is
said to have been acknowledged and accepted by the
senate. The brave man, however, could not hold together
his fickle Spanish levies, and he feU at last by native
treachery, encouraged by or at least connived at by the
■Romans. The Celtiberi, however, were still in arms _; the
strgng city of Numantia, the capital of the Arevaci, the
most powerful Celti'aerian tribe, witnessed more than
once the defeat of a Roman consul before its walls (141
to 140). The besieging army became despondent and
demoralized, and its commander, supplies failing him,
had to retire, leaving his sick and wounded behind him.
It was humiliation indeed for Rome to be thus baffled by
a half-barbarous country-town of no great size, in the
interior of Spain. She now sent her best general, the
younger Scipio, .into the country, and in 133 the cap-
tan 6,nd destruction of Numantia gave Rome p. hold
over the inland district of Spain which sho liad -ever
before had (see Scipio). The province of Hither Spam
was rendered safe from CeUiberian incursions. Shortly
afterwards Lusitania and its towns, after some obstinate
fichtine were reduced to submission by the consul Junius
Brutus; and thus Spain, with the exception of its northern
coasts the home of its most barbarous tribes, was nomin-
ally Roman territory. There must have been by this
time a considerable mixture of Eoman blood with the
native population; there were several towns— Carteia,
Valentia, Tarraco especially among them— with a Latin
municipal constitution and with a number of Latin-
speaking people. The growth of Foman civilization had
fairly begun, and it was promoted by a commission sent
out by the senate after Scipio's victories. Piracy in the
Mediterranean was checked in the interest of native
Spanish commerce, and the Eoman administration gene-
rally favoured the development of the country's prosperity.
The extensive mountain districts were still the shelter of
banditti, but, on the whole, order was well maintained,
and Spain from this time flourished under Eoman rule.
It abounded in flocks and herds, and had a number of
thriving populous towns, particularly on its Mediterranean
shores. It seems, too, that it was never oppressed and
impoverished by some of those forms of tribute,— such as
the exaction of a tenth of the produce,— under which many
of Eome's provincials smarted. Fixed money payments
and military service in the Eoman armies, were the chiet
burdens which the conquered Spaniards had to bear.
Eome on the whole, by comparison, dealt tenderly with
them Several of their towns had the privilege of coining
the silver money of Eome; and the flourishing cities
along the Mediterranean coast, which were so many
centres of civilization to the adjacent districts, were treatea
rather as allies than as subjects. In these parts the
Eomanizing process went on rapidly and under favourable
conditions, while the west and the north and a great
portion of the interior remained barbarous, and Roman
merely in name. In 105 it seemed possible that the
Eomans might be utterly swept out of the country ; in
that year a great wave of invasion passed over the inland
regions from the Cimbri, who had destroyed two Eoman
consular armies on the Ehone.. Spain to a great extent
was cruelly ravaged, and Rome was too seriously menaced
by the barbarians nearer home to be able to protect her.
The country was saved by the brave Celtiberi, whose
determined resistance forced the Cimbri back upon GauL
Again in 97 and 96 we hear of a rising of- these same
Celtiberians against Eome, and of campaigns in the
interior, in which for the first time we meet the name ot
the famous Sertorius, a name almost as conspicuous in Serton
ancient Spanish history as that of Hamilcar or Hannibal
For the remarkable episode of the eight years wars of .
Sertorius in 'Spain against the generals of Sulla and
against the great Pompey, and his almost successful
attempt to render the country independent of the home
Government at Eome, we must refer the reader to the
article Sertorius. It was to his skill in winning the
hearts of the Spaniards, more even than to his very
considerable military ability, that he owed his successes
Rome was financially most grievously embarrassed by this
tedious and difficult war, and Spain, with its Eoman
civilization and its Latinized towns on the ilediterra.
nean, suffered severely. By the year 71 the country had
been reconquered by Pompey for Eome, and the two
provinces of Hither and Further Spain were reorganized
under a somewhat more stringent ruie,_ the tribute in
some districts of the latter province bemg raised, and
some of the towns iri both losing their municipal inde-
pendence.' In 61 tho great Caesar was governor of
Vurther Spain, and carried the arms of Eome into the
UNDER EOMANS.]
■s
PAIN
307
imperfectly conquered regions of the west and north-west,
the conntry of the Lusitanians and of the Gallaeci, and
with a fleet from Gades is said to have occupied a point
in the north-west answering to Coruna. But he was too
short a time in Spain to reduce these barbarous regions to
permanent subjection, and the work still remained to be
accomplished. In the civil war with Pompey in 49 he
was in Hither Spain, winning decisive victories over
Pompey's generals, Afranius and Petreius. Once more,
in 45, he had to enter Further Spain at the head of an
army, and to defeat his rival's sons at Munda, some-
where probably in the neighbourhood of Cordova, a
victory which made him undisputed master of the Roman
world. Spain, however, the northern part at least, was
not thoroughly subdued — " pacified," in Roman phrase,
—till the reign of Augustus, whose ambition it was to
advance the boundaries of empire to the ocean. In the
north was a wild and warlike highland population, a
collection of tribes known as the Astures in the north-
west, and their neighbours the Cantabri to the east,
between a mountain range and the coast, "the last," as
Gibbon says {Decline and Fall, ch. i.), " to submit to the
arms of Rome and the first to throw off the yoke of
the Arabs." Caesar's flying visit in 61 had done some-
thing to cow these tribes, but ever and again they
would assert their' independence. In 27 the emperor
Aogus Augustus himself penetrated their strongholds, and he
^'^ passed two years in Spain ; decisive victories were won
over the northern tribes, and their towns and villages
were converted into military posts in the occupation of
the legionary veterans. Such was the origin of Saragossa,
a modern survival of the name of Cssar Augusta then
given to an old town on the Ebro, henceforth an important
Roman centre in Spain. The successes of Augustus were
commemorated by the same title bestowed on. other
ancient Spanish towns, Bracara Augusta (Braga) in the
north-west, Asturica Augusta (Astorga) still further north,
Emerita' Augusta (Merida) on the Guadiana, which
became a Roman city of the first class, — "the Rome of
Spain," as it has been called, — and Pax Augusta, perhaps
the modern Badajoz. The work of consolidating the
Roman dominion in Spain was completed in 19 by his
friend and minister, Marcus Agrippa, and now at last
the " Cantaber non ante domabilis," as Horace has it,
iloman- acknowledged Rome's supremacy. Spain was fairly con-
■onquest quered ; the warlike peoples of the north were cowed and
'°'"' broken ; the south was thoroughly Romanized, the popula-
tion having adopted Latin manners and the Latin tongue.
Bome of the best specimens of Roman architecture, some
of the finest Roman coins, have been discovered in the
cities of Spain, which from the time of Augustus became
rapidly prosperous, and were famous for their schools and
their scholars. Spain, in fact, was more completely
Roman than any province beyond the limits of Italy.
The country which had hitherto harassed Rome with
incessant . risings and insurrections was at last peaceful
and contented, a happy land which for the ne,\t 400 years
may bo said to have had at least no military history.
Under Augustus the old political constitution into two
provinces, Further and Hither Spain, of which the Ebro
had been the boundary, was set aside, and exchanged for
a division into the three provinces of Lusitania, Ba3tica,
and Tarraconensis, sometimes spoken of as the "Three
Spains." 01 these Bjctica, so called from the Bxtis (the
Guadalquivir), and answering nearly to Andalusia inclu-
sive of Granada, was the smallest ; Tarraconcn.sis, which
embraced Hither Spain and the interior and all the north,
was much the largest. Lusitania corresponds to modern
' Emcrita, from "emeriti," soliliers whoso terra of service liad
expired, — in fact, "veterans from the Ie(?ions."
Portugal. The centres of administration were — for Tarra
conensis, Tarraco ; for Ba;tica, Corduba ; for Lusitania,
Emerita Augusta. We may see, in part, on what prin-
ciples this division of the country was adopted. Lusitania
and Baitica had tolerably distinct features, the latter
having been from the earliest times the most civilized and
the most tractable district of Spain. North of the Tagus
came a much wilder region, the home of excitable and
warlike tribes ; this in great part, so as to include the
country of the Celtiberi, was thrown into Tarraconensis,
which, and also Lusitania, were tinder the empire
" Cajsaris provinciee," the governors of them being nomin-
ated by the emperor. The smaller and quieter province
of Baetica was a " senate's provinto"; and its finances were
under the charge of the old republican official known as a
" qusstor." The governor of Tarraconensis seems to have
held decidedly the first position in the country ; he had as
a matter of course the greater part of the army under his
command, and he was usually, it may be presumed, an
ex-consul. The governorship, indeed, of this province
must have been one of the best appointments in the
emperors' gift.
Under the empire Spain was divided for the general Spain
purposes included under the head of local administration under
into fourteen "conventus," that is, provincial parliaments^'"-,
or assemblies made up of a union or combination of so ""^"^
many communities or townships. The tovv-n or city which
was the centre of each " conventus " was the place where
justice was administered to the inhabitants of the district,
and would, so far, answer to our assize-town. In Tarra-
conensis there were seven of these "conventus," — Tarraco,
New Carthage, and Csesar Augusta being the chief ; in
Ba;tica, four, — Gades and Corduba being of the number;
in Lusitania, the least populous and civilized district, three
— Emerita Augusta the principal, Pax Julia, perhaps the
modern Beja, and Scalabis not far from the mouth of the
Tagus. Pliny (the elder), to whom we are indebted for
these details, enumerates 360 cities in Spain in the time
of Vespasian. These included every variety of township, — •'
the " colonia " which originated in a carnp or a settlement
granted to old soldiers, the town whose inhabitants had
all been made Roman citizens in the fullest sense (" muni-
cipium" in Roman phrase, under the empire), the town
that had the inferior franchise ("jus Latii "), the "free
town," which might at any time have its freedom taken
from it, and the " tributary " town (" civitas stipendiaria").
Spain presented types of all these various communities
till Vespasian, it is said, gave them all the "jus Latii,"
which opened an easy door for the provincials to the full
privileges of citizenship. A native-born Spaniard might
now rise to the imperial dignity, as Trajan did ; antl the
Spaniards generally must have felt themselves to all
intents and purposes Romans.
The provincial constitution of Spain was revised and
modified to some extent in the 2d century in the
time, it would seem, of the Antonines and Hadrian. The
vast and unwieldy province of Tarraconensis was sub-
divided, and the divisions distinguished as GalKxcia (the
north-west), Carthaginiensis with New Carthage for its
capital, Tarraconensis (the old name being then still
retained for one division) with Ca;sar Augusta for ita
capital, and the Balearic Isles, which had always been
regarded as S])anish territory. Constantine accepted this
arrangement, including, however, in it a strip of the
western coast of Africa, part of the old Mauritania, which,
from an ancient Moorish town, Tinge (Tangior). took the
name of Tingitana among the later Roman provinces.
Spain in 25G a.d. was invaded and ravaged by the;
Franks ; Tarraco was almost destroyed, and .several
flourishing towns reduced to niere_villages. It was. Low.
308
SPAIN
Chistory.
ever, out a passing storm,— the only interruption, m fact,-
to the peace and prosperity of the country during 400
years. With the departure of the Franks Spam soon
recovered herself, and When -we next hear of her early
\n the 5th century we find commerce and civilization
well estabUshed, and cities ranking among the finest and
richest in the Koman world. In 409, however, the year
of the sack of Rome under Alaric, a tide of barbarism^
swept over the country ; Suevi, Alani, Vandals "ravaged,
«ays a writer of the time, quoted by Gibbon (ch. 31),
" with-equal fury the cities and the open country." Spam,
long so quiet and prosperous, was brought down to the
lowest depth of misery. 'At this point the precise order
jf events is not quite clearly ascertainable. It seems that
ln414or415a Visigothic host entered Spain under their
king, Ataulphus, Alaric's successor by election, who had
married Placidia, the sister of Honorius, emperor of the
West, son of the great Theodosius. Ataulphus was now
Eome's ally, and fought as her champion in Spain against
Suevi and Vandals. A new era seemed to have opened,
and we may see in this alliance a prophecy of the ultimate
fusion of Latin and German peoples,— the beginnings, m
fact, of the modern world. To Ataulphus, who was
murdered at his new capital Barcelona, succeeded after a
brief interval in 415 Walia, a warlike and ambitious chief,
who may be said to have established the Visigothic or
West-Gothic kingdom in Spain on the ruins of the old
Eoman province. Walia concluded a treaty with the
emperor Honorius, and, putting himself at the head of his
brave Goths, in a three years' war he destroyed or drove
into remote corners the barbarous hordes of Vandals,
Alani, and Suevi that had settled down in _ the country.
Spain, thus reconquered, was nominally subject to Eome,
but soon became really independent and began to be the
seat of a Christian civilization.
Section II. — Spain ttkdeb thb West^oths.
The West-Gothic or Visigothic kingdom in Spain,
founded by Walia, lasted for nearly three centuries, from
418 to 711, when it fell before the Arab or Saracen inva-
sion. Toulouse was its headquarters ; here was held the
court of the' West-Gothic kings, while Toledo became the
centre of administration for Spain. The relations of the
West-Goths with Rome varied from time to time : some-
times they were her friendly allies, sometimes, nominally
at least, her dependants ; sometimes they rose in revolt and
were her open enemies. Walia, after his victories in Spain,
professed to restore the country as once more a Roman pro-
vince to the rule of the emperor Honorius, and again we
hear of the oppressions o'f imperial ofiicersand functionaries,
•which seem to have been even more intolerable to the
Spaniards than the strifes and wars of Vandals, Alani, and
Suevi. Nor were these troubles finally ended ; Walia had
by no means thoroughly consolidated his conquests ; and
the West-Gothic kingdom in Spain cannot be said to have
been firmly established till the 6th century. In northern
Spain, in Galicia more especially, the Vandals and Suevi
still had settlements, and were quarrelspme neighbours.
In 428 they routed an allied army of Romans and Goths,
and overran the southern districts, plundering some of the
chief cities on the coast before they quitted the country
for Africa under their king, the famous and savageGen-
seric. The Suevi yet remained, but at the solicitation of
the Romanized Spanish provincials of the southern cities,
who felt themselves threatened with utter extinction by
these barbarians, Rome offered its intervention, which was
effectually carried out by the king of the West-Goths,
flluo- Theodoric II., grandson of Alaric. Crossing the Pyrenees
^''<=' in 456, as Rome's representative and ally, Theodoric crushed
the Suevi by a decisive victory. in the north-west of Spain,
near Astorga, It would seem that from this time the
Suevic power was confined within the limits of Galicia,
which became in fact a mere dependency of the West-
Gothic kingdom. Iheodoric's victories, so far from
strengthening Rome's bold on Spain, greatly weakened it ;
and this was what he himself really intended. He did
not even make a pretence of restoring the country to the
imperial rule. His brother and successor Euric^ (466-485)'
persistently defied the empire, completing Theodorip's
work, and establLshing by further successes in Spain,
carried into its remotest western districts, the West-Gothid
kingdom in that country in full and avowed independence.
Euric was something more than a successful warrior : he
aspired to be a legislator, and he had the " customs of the
Goths" recorded in writing and embodied in a code.
The work was continued by his successor Alaric II. in the
beginning of the 6th century, under the superintendence
of civil and ecclesiastical lawj-ers, and it was based mainly
on what was known as the Theodosian code (see Beevi-
ARIUM Alaricanom). The result was that a thoroughly
Roman character was impressed on the AVest-Gothic legis-
lation, and that Roman institutions, ideas, and manners
long survived ir. Spain. 'With the conversion of the Wes^
GoUis from Ariauism to the orthodox faith in the latter
part of the 6th century, under their king Recared (586- Recited,
589), came in new influences and a great accession of
power to the ecclesiastics. Recared was the first Catholic
king of Spain. With the zeal of a convert he set himself
to iw)t out Arianism, burning Arian books of theology and
frightening his Arian bishops into the profession of the
Catholic belief. He seems to have been thorouglily suc-
cessful, and richly endowed churches and monasteries grew
up in every part of Spain. Pope Gregory the Great
acknowledged the good work of Recared by a gift Of
sacred relics. Unhappily the seeds of bigotry and religious The Jew
intolerance had been sown, and with the beginning of the "> ''P'^
7th century came a savage persecution of the Jews, multi-
tudes of whom had long been settled in Spain and had
thriven, as elsewhere, by trade and industry. The Jew
up to this time seems to have found in Spain a particularly
safe and comfortable home. Now, at the instance of a
West-Gothic king, he was so cruelly ^ oppressed and per-
secuted that even the Catholic clergy interposed to some
extent on his behalf. A decree for the .expulsion of the
entire Jewish community was promulgated on one occasion
with the sanction of the council of Toledo ; but the Jew
still held his ground in Spain and prospered and grew
rich, and his presence in the country contributed to the
rapid spread of Arab conquest in the nest century.
Among the most conspicuous features of the West- ^«^'"™|
Gothic kingdom in Spain we may note_ elective ^ ^^^^^i-
monarchy, the great and indeed overshadowing power ^^jg"
of the church, an aristocracy which had in its hands a
very large part of the administration, a uniform code of
laws for all Spaniards, with both a distinctly Eoman and
ecclesiastical impress on it. The church on the whole
seems to have been the guiding spirit, and the Spanish
bishops and clergy were held in high esteem for their
learning and virtue. It was they who mainly inspired
the legislation of the great national councils of Toledo,
which to the West-Goths of Spain were what the Witena
gemot was to our Saxon ancestors. The church was the
centre round which the whole of society moved. In this
fact we see foreshadowed much of the future of Spanish
history, the supremacy of ecclesiastics, the extraordinary
powers of the Inquisition. It had from the first its evil
' Euric is said to have assassinated his broJier Theodoric.
2 Ninety thousand Jews were compelled to receive baptism (Gibbon •
Decline and Fall, ch. 37).
3 Limited, however, to pure Gothic blood.
niDER VISIGOTHS,]
SPAIN
309
side in tendencies to bigotry and persecution, but it was
it the same time the means of giving Spain laws very far
above the average ideas of a barbarous people, — laws indeed
which in many respects were rational, humane, enlightened,
often combining the wisdom of old Rome with the kindly
spirit of Christianity. The West-Gothic code recognized
the equality of all men in the eye of the law ; such bar-
barisms as the assessment of a man's value according to
his rank and position, or judicial combat or trial by ordeal,
find no place in it. It had certainly great merits; its
weakness seems to have been in leaving too much scope
on one side to the king, on the other to the clergy.
Between the royal and the ecclesiastical powers individual
freedom was liable to disappear. There was a danger,
too, of human thought and si>eculatioa being wholly
absorbed into theology. In anything like general litera-
ture Spain seems to have been decidedly poor during this
period, while among her neighbours in the south of Gaul
Greek philosophy was a fashionable study, testifying to
the presence of considerable intellectual activity. Spain
under' its West-Gothic kings and its Catholic clergy may
have beea_a fairly well governed country, but long before
the end came there must have been languor and decay
amongst its people. After the conquest of Africa by
Belisarius for the emperor Justinian, it seemed possible
that the country might bo ones again annexed to the
empire as a province ; and an unsuccessful candidate for
the throne, — which, it will be remembered, was elective, —
went so far as to. conclude a treaty of alliance, and actually
to 'cede to the troops of the empire several towns on the
Decline Mediterranean coast. That a Gothic king should con-
»nd fall descend to ask support from such a quarter, and allow
J^'^® himself to be spoken of as in any sense the empire's
Qottiio vassal, marks a very decided decline in the old inde-
vower. pendent spirit of the nation. We may certainly assume
that repeated disputes as to the royal succession had
undermined its power for resistance, and the numerous
and not very well affected Jewish colony in their midst
must have been a permanent source of danger. By the
end of the 7th century northern Africa to the Straits of
Gibraltar had passed wholly under Saracenic dominion.
The struggle had been long and hard, and the West-
Gothic kings, who bad recovered the towns on the
southern coasts, and even made some small conquests on
the African shores, had done something to prolong it ; but
in 710 a little band of Saracens landed unopposed at
Gibraltar, returned in safety, and urged their brethren at
once to cross the straits and take possession of the
country. In the following year (711) TArik, at the head
of about 5000 Saracen volunteers, entered Spain. A great
Gothic army under Roderick, " the last of the Goths," was
routed in the neighbourhood of Xeres on the Guadalete,
and the Arab or Saracenic conquest of Spain, ' with the
exception of the mountainous districts of the north, was
accomplished with amazing ease and rapidity. Anything
like a vigorous national resistance seems to have been too
much for the Spaniards, enervated as they were by long
ifarailiarity with Roman civili/ation.^ (w. j. b.)
Section III. — Medieval History.
, The Arab invasion of Spain had been intended by Mi'isA,
the governor of Africa, to be merely a plundering raid
(compare Mohammedanism, vol. xvi. p. 573). A single
• For tho West-Gothic kingiiom in Spain, Gibbon's Decline and Fall
should be consulted, charters 31, 36, 37, 38, 41, 51. In note 122
(ch. 38) he remarks on tho obscurity of the subject, Spain having had
during this period no chronicler like Bode for the Saxons or Gregory
of Tours for the Franks. Aa to tho West-Gothic laws, there is a good
deal of easily accessible information in Guizot's History of Civilizalion ,
lectures 3, 6, 10, 11. Conip.ire Roman Law, vol. xx. p. 712, and
SiLio Law. »o1. xxI. p. 216, section (11).
unexpected success turned it into a conquest. TArik had'
already made himself master of Cordova and Toledo whea.
MiisA jirrived from Africa and rewarded his too successful
lieutenant by consigning him to prison. But his military
ability was too valuable to be dispensed with, and ho was
speedily released to aid in completing the conquest. Within
four years the whole Peninsula, except the mountainous
districts in the north, had submitted to the invaders. It
was now Miisd's turn to suffer from the jealousy of his
superior. Recalled to Damascus by Walld, he arrived just
after the caliph's death, and at once fell under the dis-
pleasure of his successor Suleimdn. His sons, who had
been left to rule in Spain, were involved in his disgrace,
and the father died broken-hearted on a pilgrimage to
Mecca.
Few things in history are more remarkable than the
ease with which Spain, a country naturally fitted foi
defence, was subdued by a mere handful of invaders.
The usual causes assigned are the misgovernment of the
Visigoths, the excessive influence enjoyed by the clerical
caste, internal factions and jealousies, and the discontent
of numerous classes, and especially of the Jews. All of
these doubtless co-operated to facilitate the conquest and'
to weaken the power of resistance, but the real cause is to^
be sought in the fact that the Visigoths had never really,
amalgamated with the conquered population. The mass
of the inhabitants regarded their rulers as aliens, and had!
no reason to resent a change of masters. This feeling
was strengthened by the conduct of their new conquerors.
The Arab .invasion undoubtedly brought with it consider-j
able bloodshed and destruction of property, but it was
merciful when compared with the previous inroads of
the German tribes, and in the end it proved a blessing
rather than a curse to the country. To all who submitted
the Arabs left their laws and customs, and allowed them
to be administered by their own officials. The cultivation
of the fields was left to the natives, and the overthrow of
the privileged classes gave rise to b- system of small hold-
ings or properties, which was one of the causes of the
"flourishing condition of agriculture uik^ci- Arab rule. The
slaves found their lot much improved under a religion
which taught that the enfranchisement of a slave was a
meritorious action. Tho Jews, as they had suffered most
under the Visigoths, were tho chief gainers from a con-
quest which they had greatly contributed to bring about.
But nothing was so influential in securing ready submission
to the Arabs as their tolerance in religious matters. Even
the most bigoted adherents of Islam found a practical
check to their zeal for proselytisra in the loss that would
accrue to the exchequer. The Christians had to pay a
poll-tax, which varied according to the class to which the/
belonged. All property- was subject to tho kharoj, a tax;
proportioned to the produce of the soil, but converts to
Mohammedanism were excused from the poll-tax. A cleri-j
cal chronicler of the &th century, while bewailing the sub-l
jection of Spain to an alien race, says nothing against the;
conquerors as the professors of a hostile religion. Hi*
silence is an eloquent testimony to tho haughty tolerance
of tho Arabs.
As time went on, and the Arabs felt more secure' inj
their position, their rule became not unnaturally har8he^^
Many of tho treaties which had secured favourable terms
to the conquered were broken, and tho Christians wero
provoked to resistance by persecution. A notable mstancei
of this was tho edict making circumcision compulsory for
Christians as well as Moslems. Greater hardships still
were endured by tho " renegades," most of whom had
embraced Mohommcdanism from a desire for safety or for
temporal gain, and who found that return to the old faith
was blocked both to themselves and to their chililrcn by
310
SPAIN
[history.
the law whicli punished a perverted Mussulman with
death. At the same time their social position was intoler-
able, and they were excluded from all lucrative offices and
from all share in the government. Their discontent led
to numerous and stubborn rebellions, but they belong to
a later period, and in the 8th century the chroniclers
record only a single rising, that of the Christians of Beja,
and they seem to have been merely the tools of an
ambitious Arab chieftain.
It was fortunate for the Arabs that they succeeded at
first in conciliating the natives, as otherwise their rule in
'.he Peninsula would have been short-lived. Internal
iiscord offered the Christians an easy opportunity for suc-
cessful revolt if they had chosen to avail themselves of it.
The conquerors were united by religion but not by race.
When the task of conquest was achieved, and the need for
unity was removed by the submission of the vast majority
of the natives, quarrels arose between the various races
which had taken part in the invasion. Besides the Arabs
proper^ who regarded themselves as the true conquering
race, there were Berbers or Moors, Egj-ptians, and Syrians.
So difficult was it to prevent their quarrels that it was
found necessary to subdivide the conquered territory and
to allot separate settlements to the different tribes, a
measure which only tended to perpetuate their differences.
Matter.s were made worse by the constant efforts of
ambitious chieftains to raise themselves to power or to
ruin their more successful equals. The first forty years of
Arab rule in Spain are a period of woeful confusion, and
it is difficult even to enumerate the names of the emirs
who followed each other in rapid succession. The great
empire of the Arabs began to fall to pieces as soon as it
had reached its greatest extent. A movement whose end
was conquest began to fail directly it -ceased to conquer.
The overthrow of the Omayyad dynasty by the Abbasids
was a proof that disorder prevailed at the centre. The
extremities inevitably displayed the same symptoms.
Each new caliph sent a fresh emir to Spain ; the governor
of Africa claimed to interfere in the affairs of a province
Which had been conquered by one of his predecessors ; and
the native chiefs were often unwilling to submit to a new
ruler whose arrival was the result of a revolution in which
they had no share and which they would have prevented
if they could. A capable and energetic governor, con-
fronted with internal dissension and always dreading the
arrival of a successor to supersede him, could only devise
one way of solving the problem. The Arabs were unable
to live at peace, and the one means of preventing them
from warring with each other was to find them new lands
to conquer. Hence came the frequent invasions of Gaul,
now ruled by the degenerate Merwings, which resulted
in the conquest of the provinces of Septimania and Nar-
bonne, and at one time threatened to subject the whole of
■western Europe to the successor of Mohammed. But the
battles of Toulouse (721) and of Tours (732) checked the
adva-nce of the Moslems, and by 759 they had been com-
pelled to retire from all possessions beyond the Pyrenees.
Thus thrown back upon the peninsula, it seemed probable
that tbeir empire in Spain would speedily succumb to the
disruptive forces which had no longer any external outlet.
From this fate the Arab power was saved by 'Abd al-
Eahmin (Abderame), the one survivor of the Omayyad
dynasty, who succeeded after a long series of romantic
adventures in escaping from the general massacre of his
family (see vol. xvi. p. 578). His arrival in the Peninsula
was welcomed by those Arab chieftains who had ends of
their own to gain or who saw how impossible it was for
Spain to be ruled from a distant centre like Damascus or
Baghdad. The resistance of the Abbasid emirs, Yiisuf and
All b. Moghfth, was overcome, and 'Abd al-Rahradn was
enabled to found a new Omayyad dynasty at Cordova.
He and his immediate successors seem to have contented
themselves with the title of emir, but all connexion with
the eastern caliphate was cut off, and Spain became inde-
pendent under its new rulers. The reign of 'Abd al-
Rahmdn I. was spent in almost constant warfare. No
sooner had he reduced the southern provinces than a revolt
broke out in Saragossa under Hosein b. Yahya. Driven
from Spain, where he had raised the black standard of the
Abbasid caliph, Hosein fled to the court of Charlemagne
and implored his assistance. The Frankish army restored
Hosein to power, but on its return was almost destroyed by
the Basque mountaineers in the famous valley of Ronces-
valles (778). After a siege of two years Saragossa was
taken, Hosein was put to death as a rebel, and the whole
country up to the Pyrenees was compelled to submit to
the Omayyad. A formidable rising of the sons of Yusuf
was put down in 786, and 'Abd al-Rahmdn was enabled to
devote the last two years of his life to the arts of peace
and to the construction of his famous mosque at Cordova.
Before his death he settled the succession on his third son,
Hishilm, who had been born in Spain, and compelled hia
followers and his tlder sons to swear fealty.
Hishdm's reign, which lasted only eight years (788-
796), was comparatively uneventful. He was successful
in foiling the attempt of his elder brothers to seize the
throne, but a projected invasion of Gaul was repulsed by
the courage of the count of Toulouse. Hishdm was a
devotee, — strict in the performance of religious duties and
absorbed in works of charity. He completed the mosque
which his father had begun, and endeavoured to make
Cordova the educational centre of Islam. His son and
successor, Al-Hakam, was of a very different temperament.
With a keen enjoyment of the pleasures of life, Al-Hakam
disregarded the precepts of the Koran which forbado th«
use of wine, and his lax practices irritated the fakiks,
the " scribes " of Mohammedanism. The inability of the
Arabs to adapt themselves to a life of peace found expres-
sion in a number of isolated risings, of which the most
notable took place in Toledo and Cordova. The inhabit-
ants of Toledo had never forgotten that their city had
once been the capital of Spain, and most of them belonged
to the class of " renegades," who had no real attachment
to the dominant faith. Al-Hakam determined to suppress
their discontent by a notable act of cruel treachery.
Feigning the most complete goodwill, he invited the chief
citizens to a banquet in honour of the presence of his sob
in Toledo. As they entered the door they were conducted
to an inner chamber and massacred by a band of assassins.
More than seven hundred are said to have perished on this
" day of the fosse" (807), and the citizens, deprived of their
leaders, submitted with the torpor of despair. The fate of
Toledo terrified the Cordovans, and postponed their rising
for seven years. But in 814 the murder of a blactemith
by one of Al-Hakam's bodyguard provoked a terrible
outbreak. Besieged in his palace by the infuriated mob,
Al-Hakam only escaped death by his own coolness and'
presence of mind. A detachment of his guard was sent
to fire the houses of the citizens ; the mob hurried off to
save their families and goods; and a sudden charge of the
emir and his soldiers threw them into complete disorder.
With politic severity Al-Hakam destroyed a whole quarter
of the city and condemned all the inhabitants to exile.
Part of them found a new home in Africa, but others,
after a temporary sojourn in Alexandria, conquered Crete,
where they founded a dynasty, which lasted till 961, when
the island was recovered by the Greeks. The fakihs, the
real instigators of the rebellion, were treated with con-
spicuous leniency, and their leader, Taliit, was even
admitted to Al-Hakam's favour.
KISli OF CHKISTIAN STATES.]
SPAIN
311
emits- By the end of the 8th century it had become evident
«"N that the Arabs had committed a great error in not reduc-
States. Jog t_jjg vyijole Peninsula, and that the contemptuous
indifference with which they had left the northern
mountains to a handful of refugees was destined to bring
its own punishment. The early history of the Christian
states of Spain is wrapped in a mist of fable and legend,
but it is not hard to discern the main outlines. A scanty
.band of warriors, headed by Pelayo, probably a member
of the Visigothic royal family, found refuge in the cave of
Covadonga, among the inaccessible mountains of Asturias.
Their own bravery and the difficulties of the country
enabled them to hold their own, and they became the
rallying point for all who preferred a life of hardship to
slavish submission. The formation of a Christian kingdom
was the work of Pelayo's grandson, Alfonso I., who seized
the opportunity when the Arabs were occupied in the
disputes attending the accession of 'Abd al-KahraAn I.
After driving the Berbers from Galicia, Alfonso advanced
with his victorious troops as far as the Douro. But he
had not followers enough to colonize the conquered
territory, and contented himself with the northern
districts, leaving a desert to form a natural boundary
between himself and the Moors. Alfonso's son' and
successor, Fruela I. (765-775), fixed his capital at Oviedo,
but the greater part of his reign was occupied with the
suppression of internal disorders, and he ultimately fell
a victim to assassination. His throne was successfully
usurped by his cousin Aurelia and his nephew Silo,
both of whom sought security against domestic enemies in
an alliance with 'Abd al-RahmAn. On the death of Silo
(J84) a party among the nobles elected Fruela's son,
Alfonso II., but for six years the western half of the
kingdom obeyed a bastard son of Alfonso I. by a MoorisU
captive, nicknamed from his origin El Maurecato. Under
Alfonso the Chaste, whose long reign lasted till 842, the
Christian kingdom of Oviedo was firmly established. It
is impossible to find any accurate account of his. achieve-
ments. The monkish chroniclers are hardly trustworthy
authorities for military history, and they prefer to confine
themselves to the more congenial subject of the found-
ing and- 'endowment of churches. The discovery of the
pretended tomb of St James at Compostella is in their
eyes the greatest event of the reign, and it undoubtedly
aided to give a religious character to the war which was
destined to be the great crusade of the west.
Alfonso II.'s reign witnessed the establishment of
another Christian state in Spain. Charles the Great had
been too much occupied elsewhere to avenge the great
disaster at Iloncesvalles, but he was only waiting for his
opportunity. This was offered in 800 by the treachery of
another governor of Saragossa, who had revolted against
AI-Hakam and sought assistance from the Franks.
Charles himself was on his way to Italy to assume the
imperial crown, but ho sent his son Louis across the
Pyrenees. In his first campaign Louis reached the Ebro,
but ho had to return in 801 to vanquish the obstinate
resistance of Barcelona. The administration of the
" Spanish mark " was entrusted to Bera, a man of Gothic
descent, who proved fully capable of the task imposed
upon him. The attacks of the Arabs were repulsed, and
their last possessions beyond the Kbro were lost in 811,
when Tortosa, after a siege of two year.s, succumbed to the
forces which Louis the Pious had again led over the
mountains. Henceforth the province was ruled by the
■counts of Barcelona, as representatives of the Frankish
][ings.
To avoid the difficulty of frequent transitions, it will bo
l)est to sketch in advance the main outlines of the history
of the Christian states down to the formation of the three
kingdoms of Aragon, Castile, and Navarre, leaving theii
relations with the Moors to be narrated in connexion with
the caliphate of Cordova. It is impossible to do much
more than trace the dynastic and geographical changes, aa
their mutual quarrels are intricate and wearisome, and of
little importance except as prolonging the rule of tho
Arabs in the Peninsula. The county of Barcelona may be
dismissed with a few words. It continued for some time
to be subject to Frankish suzerainty, and it suffered from
the disorders that followed tho break-up of Charles the
Great's empire. Bera, its first count, was exiled, and hia
successor, Bernhard, played a prominent part in the
intrigues of that troubled period. At one moment ho
added Septimania to the Spanish mark, at another he was
disgraced and exiled ; and finally he was treacherously
murdered. In the later part of the 9th century all
connexion with Septimania was cut off, and Wilfrid the
Hairy (d. 907) was able to make the county hereditary
in his family. With its mixed population and its long
line of coast the county of Barcelona, or Catalonia as
it came to be called, was more involved in the affairs of
Gaul than of Spain. Berengar I. annexed the county of
Carcassonne and other districts north of the Pyrenees
(about 1050-1076), and Berengar IIL (1092-1131)
obtained Provence by marriage. On the latter's; death
Catalonia and the transmontane territories were divided
between his two sons, and in 1150 Berengar IV., by
marriage with Queen Petronilla, obtained the kingdom of
Aragon, with which Catalonia was henceforth united.
The history of Oviedo is more important and more Kingdon
complicated. Alfonso II.'s successors, Ramiro I. (842-ofO"»*
850) and Ordono L (850-8G6), had to contend both with °'^^*'
the great nobles, who aimed at independence, and with
the Basques, who had never learnt to submit to orderly
rule. Alfonso III., in a long reign of nearly fifty years
(866-910), won the title of "The Great "from the suc-
cess which attended his arms. While his plundering
raids extended as far as Coimbra and Lisbon, he really
advanced his frontiers to the Douro, and in order to defend
these more exposed territories he transferred his capital
from Oviedo to Leon, on tho further side of the mountains.
In accordance .with the universal custom of the Germans,
Alfonso divided his territories among his three sons,
Garcia receiving the southern districts with Leon as a
capital, Ordono II. western Galicia, and Fruela II. the
original district round Oviedo. In 931, however, the
kingdom was again united under Kamiro II., a son of
Ordono II., and henceforth called after the new capital,
Leon. Under Kamiro, a great warrior against tho Arabs,
we first hear of a district that was destined to become the
most important in Spain. The border territory, a march
to the south-east of Leon, previously Bardulia, was now
known as Castile, from the number of castles that had
been raised to hold it against tho infidels. Its count,
Fcrnan Gonzales, was the most powerful noble in the
kingdom of Leon, and sought to make himself inde-
pendent. Kamiro reduced him to submission and then
bound him to his side by marrying his eldest son to tho
count's daughter. Ordono IIL (950-957) sought "to
emulate his father's achievements against the Arabs, but
was hampered by tljo revolt of his brother Sancho and
his father-in-law Fdnan Gonzales. Sancho I. (957-966)
found an enemy in his recent ally, who attempted to
place a rival king upon tho throne, and ho could only
procure restoration to his kingdom by an alliance with
the caliph of Cordova. This alliance lasted during tho
minority of his son, Kamiro 111. (966-982), who was
deposed by tho malcontent nobles in favour of his uncle,
Bermudo 11. (982-999). The latter, too mild a ruler for
such troubled times, had a hard struggle against domostio
312
SPAIN
[history.
treachery and foreign enemies, and left a desolate kingdom
to his son Alfonso V. Alfonso succeeded in restoring
order, and to his reign are attributed the most important
of thofueros, on which were based the local institutions
.of his kingdom.
Meanwhilo a new kingdom had sprung up to the east
of Leon, which for a time seemed likely to become the
chief state of Christian Spain. The district in the western
Pyrenees bordering on the Bay of Biscay was the most
defensible position in the Peninsula. It was there that
the Basques had held out against the German invaders,
and that the Suevi had found a refuge from the Visigoths.
The sovereignty of the Moslems and of the Franks had
been in turn acknowledged, but had never been more
than nominal. About the beginning of the 10th century
Sanoho founded here the kingdom of Navarre, and he
succeeded in extending his rule as far as the lower Ebro.
His means of defence were primitive but efficient. When
attacked by the infidels in overwhelming numbers he
retired to the inaccessible mountains, and recovered the
lost ground as soon as the enemy had turned his back.
His grandson, Sancho the Great (970-1035), profited by
the disasters which befel Leon. He married the sister of
Garcia, count of Castile, and when his brother-in-law fell
a victim to a conspiracy he seized the opportunity to
avenge his death by annexing the northern portion of his
country. In 1034 he picked a quarrel with Bermudo III.
(1028-1037), the son and succef.sor of Alfonso V., and
conquered eastern Leon as far as the river Cea. More
important still were his acquisitions in the south-east of
'Navarre. Partly by marriage connexions, and partly by
the sword, he obtained possession of the counties of
Aragon, Sobrarbe, and Ribagorc^a, which had for years
been struggling to maintain their independence against
the Mussulman governor of Saragossa. These consider-
able territories Sancho divided on his death (1035) among
his four sons, and the division is an important event in
the history of Spain. Garcia, the eldest, received Navarre,
with a small district on the right bank of the Ebro ;
Ferdinand, the second son, obtained Castile, with the
addition of the district of Palencia, which had been
wrested from Leon ; the counties of Ribagorga and
Sobrarbe passed to Gonzalo, and tbat of Aragon to
Eamiro, a bastard.
The death of Sancho the Great ccemsd to offer Bermudo
in. an opportunity for recovering his lost territories, and
he at once collected his forces to attack Ferdinand. In a
pitched battle near the river Carrion, Bermudo was
defeated and killed, and the conqueror at once annexed
Leon with its dependencies — Galicia and Asturias — to his
new kingdom of Castile (1037). The eldest brother,
Garcia, resented a change which threatened to deprive
Navarre of the pre-eminence which it had enjoyed under
his father. To gratify his jealousy he did not scruple
to ally himself with the emirs of Saragossa and Tudela.
But in the battle of Atapuerca (1054) the unnatural
coalition was defeated, Garcia lost his life on the field,
and Ferdinand added to Castile the district on the right
of the Ebro, leaving the rest of Navarre ' to his nephew,
Sancho IV. Meanwhile Eamiro, equally ambitious and
successful, got rid of his brother Gonzales, and seized
upon Sobrarbe and Ribagorga to form, with his own
inheritance, the kingdom of Aragon. Henceforth the
history of Christian Spain centres round the two great
states of Castile and Aragon. Leon, much to the disgust
of its inhabitants, becomes a province of the former, and
Navarre is soon afterwards deprived of independence by
its more powerful neighbour.
We must now return to the history of the Arabs.
Under 'Abd al-Rahmdn II. (822-852), one of the mildest
and most cultivated of the Omayyad dynasty, began a
period of disorder and anarchy which might have ruined
his power if the northern states had been prepared to'
take advantage of it. Toledo, which had recovered it»
independence soon after the " day of the fosse," was not
reduced until after a desperate struggle of eight years^
and then its fall was mainly due to internal quarrels.
More serious was the growing spirit of insubordination
among the Christian population of the south. In spite of
the tolerance with which they were treated, the priests
persisted in preaching against the rule of the infidel.
Under the leadership of Eulogius and his friend Alvaro,
a fanatical sect was formed which sought to emulate the
glory of the early martyrs. So averse was the Govern-
ment to resort to persecution that it was only by publicly
blaspheming Mohammed that they could bring themselves
under tho penalties of the law. Eleven persons were put
to death for such conduct, who are celebrated in Spanish
history as the " martyrs of Cordova." It was in vain
that the moderate party denounced their conduct as
wanton suicide; the enthusiasts persisted in their defiant
conduct. Mohammed (852-866), sterner and more nar- Mohun
row-minded than his predecessor, was not unwilling to ""ed.
take repressive measures, and the execution of Eulogius,
who had been chosen archbishop of Toledo, seems to have
checked for a time the thirst for martyrdom. But the
movement had succeeded in provoking a feeling of dis-
trust between the two religions, and it was difficult to
return to the old attitude of easy tolerance. The " rene-
gades " found their position altered for the worse, and
under Mohammed they were jealously excluded from all
the higher offices of state.
A series of revolts showed how prevalent was the feel-
ing of discontent. The Gothic family of Benl-Casf, which,
had embraced Mohammedanism in order to advance itself,
had become extremely powerful in Aragon. Musi,, the
head of this family, made himself master of Sarago.ssa,
Tudela, and Huesca, concluded a close alliance with
Tohdo, which had again recovered its independence, and
claimed to be the " third king in Spain." Musi's death
in 862, in a war with Ordono L of Oviedo, enabled
Mohammed to regain Tudela and Saragossa, but his
troops were soon expelled by Miis4's sons, and the Beni-
Cas(, with the help of Alfonso III., were for a long time
able to bid defiance to the authority of the emir. About
the same time an independent state was formed in the
west by Ibn-Merwdn, a renegade of Merida. But by far
the most formidable of these risings was that of 'Omar b.
Hafsiin, who began as a brigand in the mountains of
Andalusia, but whose castle at Bobastro became the
centre of all the dissatisfied Christians and renegades of
the south. Neither Mohammed nor his son and successor
Mondhir (886-888) could reduce this impregnable fortress,
and for years 'Omar was the real ruler of Andalusia. His-
authority was far greater than that of the emirs had ever
been: his administration of justice was rude but efficient;
and the Arab historians maintain that a girl laden witk
treasure could in his time cross the mountains in safety.
The premature death of Mondhir, a brave and chivalrous
prince, gave the succession to his brother 'Abdallah (888—
902), who ascended the throne at a very critical moment.
Not only had the rising of the Christians and renegades:
assumed an almost national character, but the Arab nobles
had taken advantage of the general disorder to assume
the independence that was so congenial to them. 'Abd-
allah, considering the latter danger the more formidable,
sought to gain over the Spaniards, and even offered Ibn
Hafsiin the government of Regio, on condition that he
would acknowledge himself as sovereign. But the
negotiation came to nothing, and the only result was to
OMAYYADS 822-I031.]
SPAIN
313
provoke tne inaignation of his o\vn race against tne emir.
Luckily for him the Spaniards had an old debt to pay off
against the Arabs, who had long treated them with
insufferable contempt. In various districts a desperate
civil war broke out, which was destructive of all law and
order, but was not directly aimed against the central
Government. The most violent struggle was in the pro-
vince of Elvira, where for a time the natives got the
upper band, and it was only after a desperate conflict that
the' Arab domination was maintained by the heroism of
two successive leaders, Sauwar and Sa'id. In Seville a
similar contest arose, and 'Abdallah, after attempting in
vain to hold the balance between the two parties, was at
last compelled to espouse the cause of the Arabs. An
insurrection; in which the life of Mohammed, the emir's
eldest son, was in imminent danger, was punished with
ruthless severity; but it was the Arab nobles who profited
by the success to make themselves absolute masters of the
province. The central authority was almost powerless.
Most of the provincial governors had thrown off all con-
nexion with Cordova, and the others only rendered
obedience when it was convenient to themselves. But at
the moment when matters seemed at their worst the tide
turned. In 890 "Abdallah won his first victory over Ibn-
Haf.siin, and during the remainder of his reign he gradu-
ally recovered power in the revolted provinces. The
bd al- work was continued by his son and successor, 'Abd al-
ihmitt, Rahman (or Abderame) III. (912-961), the greatest of the
rulers of Cordova. Under this prince, who at last assumed
the title of caliph, the unity of Mussulman Spain was for
the time restored.
No sooner had 'Abd al-Ralim.4n completed the first part
of his task by the reduction of the family of Ibn-Hafsiin
than he found himself confronted by two dangers. . In
Africa the Fatimites were establishing a great empire,
and it was almost certain that they would turn their
attention to Spain as soon as their power was secure in
the southern continent. In the north the Christian states
had profited by the long anarchy among their old foes and
were assuming a very threatening attitude. Alfonso III.
had moved his capital across the mountains to Leon, and
Sancho had recently created the kingdom of Navarre.
As regards Africa, 'Abd al-Rahman contented himself with
encouraging and subsidizing the princes that still held
out against the Fatimites, and with obtaining possession-
of Ceuta, so as to have complete command of the straits.
The northern danger was the more pressing. In 914
Ordofio II. made a successful raid into the territory of
Merida, and two years later ho defeated the army which
had been sent to avenge the insult. Although Merida
had not yet returned to submission, 'Abd al-RahmAn was
determined to conciliate his subjects by proving his ability
to defend them. lie spared no pains to collect a magni-
ficent army, and his efforts were rewarded in 918 by a
great victory over the combined forces of Leon and
Navarro. This was the first of a series of successful
campaigns, in the course of which he penetrated as far
as Saucho's capital, Pamplona. But liis victories brought
him little beyond glory and revenge. As soon as his
troops were withdrawn, the enemy showed himself to be
really unconqucred. In 921 Ordoiio is said to have
advanced within a day's journey of Cordova, and in 923
Sancho excited a panic in Mussulman Spain by the cap-
ture of Viguera. But the disorders in Leon that followed
Ordouo II. '3 death were a great blow to the Christians,
and enabled 'Abd alBalunin to complete his work of
internal reorganization and to turn his attention to resist-
ing the Fatimito conquest of j\Iaurclania. On the death
of Sancho, his widow Tota recognized the caliph as auze-
rain of Navarre.
22—13*
In his later years 'Abd al-Rahmin was less uniformly
successful. The Arabs were disgusted by his policy of
excluding the nobles from all share in the government
and of filling the chief offices with "Slavs," the generic
title for all foreign servants of the court. Ramiro 11.
had succeeded in restoring unity to Leon, and resumed
the warlike policy of his predecessors. In 939 he inflicted
a serious defeat upon the army of the caliph at Alhandega,
and was only prevented from following up his victory by
,a quarrel with the famous count of Castile, Fernan Gon-
zales. The divisions which followed Ramiro's death were
an additional advantage to 'Abd al-Rahmdn ; and in 960 ha
gained the most conspicuous success of his reign when his
troops restored the deposed Sancho I. to the throne of
Leon. This was almost his last act, as he died in October
961.
" Among the Omayyad princes of Spain 'Abd al-Rahm4n
III. incontestably holds the first place. His achievements
bordered on the fabulous. He had found the empire in a
state of anarchy and civil war, divided amongst a crowd
of chiefs of different race, exposed to constant raids from
the Christians of the north, and on the verge of being
absorbed either by Leon or by the Fatimites. In spite
of innumerable obstacles he had saved Andalusia both
from itself and from foreign rule. He had given to it
internal order and prosperity and the consideration and
respect of foreigners. He found the treasury in disorder ;
he left it in the most flourishing condition. A third of
the annual revenues, which amounted to 6,245,000 pieces
of gold, sufficed for the ordinary expenditure ; another
third was kept as a reserve ; the rest was devoted to
buildings. The condition of the country was equally
prosperous. Agriculture, industry, commerce, the arts
and sciences, flourished together. The foreigner was lost
in wonder at the scientific system of irrigation, which
gave fertility to lands that appeared most unpromising.
He was struck by the perfect order which, thanks to, a
vigilant police, reigned in the most inaccessible districts.
Commerce had developed to such an extent that, accord-
ing to the report of the superintendent of the customs,
the duties on imports and exports constituted the most con-
siderable part of the revenue. A superb navy enabled 'Abd
al-Rahman to dispute with the Fatimites the empire of the
Mediterranean, and secured him in the possession of Ceuta,
the key of Mauretania. A numerous and well-disciplined
army, perhaps the best in the world, gave him a preponder-
ance over the Christians of the north. The most haughty
sovereigns were eager for his alliance. Ambassadors were
sent to him by the emperor of Constantinople and by the
sovereigns of Germany, Italy, and France." — Dozy, iii. 90.
The new caliph, Al-Hakam II. (961-976), was distin- Al-
guished as a patron of literature and a collector of books. H^***!
The number of volumes in his library was reckoned at
400,000, and he is said to have read and annotated
them all. For politics he had comparatively little taste.,
Naturally averse to war, he was only forced into hostilities
by the obstinate refusal of Sancho I. to fulfil the treaty
which ho had signed on his restoration, and ho hastened
to conclude peace on an empty renewal of the treaty. The
disorders which aro-so during the minority of Ramiro III.
put an end to all danger on the side of Leon, and the
death of Fernan Gonzales in 970 removed a rulor who had
always been a thorn in the side of the infidel. The most
notable event of Al llakam's reign is the rise to influence
of a man who was destined to play a more prominent part
in the history of Spain than any of the caliphs, not exclud-
ing 'Abd al-Rahm!ln IlL Mohammed Ibn-abf-'Amir was
the descendant of a family which had long been distin-
guished in the civil administration, but had never boMi
admitted to the higher nobility of the sword. From bis
a
314
SPAIN
[histoet.
earliest youth he was inspired •with the thought that ho
vas destined to rule. His ability and the favour of
Al-Hakam's favourite vpife, Sobh, combined to bring about
his speedy advance, and by the time of the caliph's death
he held a high office in the court. Al-Hakam had done all
in his power to secure the succession of his son by Sobh,
Hishdm, a boy of ten years of age. But the chief eunuchs,
dreading the influence which a minority would give to
Moshafl, the hdjib or chief minister, sought to give the
crown to Moghira, a brother of Al-Hakam. With the help
of Ibn-abl-'Amir, Moshafl defeated the plot; Moghira was
put to death, and Hishim succeeded to his father's throne.
But he never really ruled. Ibn-abi-'Amir, still aided by
Sobh, whose lover he was popularly supposed to be, gradu-
ally rose to absolute power. Moshafl, a man of little real
ability, was charged with peculation and deposed, and his
younger rival was appointed hdJib in his place. To free
himself from all danger from the mob at Cordova, the all-
powerful minister transferred the government and the
court to Zahrd, which he built for the purpose. There
the young caliph was immured in a magnificent palace,
and was carefully secluded from all contact with public
afiairs. His education was purposely neglected, and he
never made the slightest efiort to free himself from his
gilded imprisonment. To remove all obstacles to his
authority, Ibn-abl-'Amir reorganized the army. He filled
the ranks with Moors from Africa and with Spaniards
from Leon, Castile, and Navarre, whom he bound to his
cause by lavish generosity. The old tribal distinctions
among the Arabs, so long the source of jealousy and
quarrels, he completely disregarded in the forming of
regiments, and thus completed the work of assimilation
■which Abd al-Rahmdn III. had commenced. Though
trained to the study of the law and experienced only in
civil aJfairs, he speedily mastered the art of war and con-
ciliated the popular favour by victories such as no caliph
had ever won. In 981 he defeated Ramiro III. and his
allies in a pitched battle, took Zamora and Simancas, and
was only prevented by a storm from capturing Lepn. On
his return he assumed the name of Almans6r (victorious
by the help of God), by which he is usually known in
history. Bermudo II., whom the nobles of Leon raised to
the throne in place of the defeated Ramiro, could only
secure himself by paying tribute to the ruler of Cordova.
In 985 Almans6r invaded Catalonia, which had hitherto
been respected as a Franfeish fief, drove the count Borrel
into exile, and took and sacked Barcelona. When
Bermudo II. sought to free himself from the harsh
conditions that had been imposed upon him and drove
the Moslem troops from his kingdom, Almans6r took a
terrible revenge. In 987 he stormed Coimbra and razed
it to the ground. In the next year he advanced into the
heart of the kingdom. Leaving Zamora, where Bermudo
awaited him, on one side, he marched against the city of
Leon, and took it after an obstinate resistance. The
fortifications were utterly destroyed, with the exception of
one gate, which was left to commemorate the victor's
triumph. Zamora was then attacked, and Bermudo fled
to his northern territories, which were all that were left to
him.
In spite of these successes Almans6r had to face more
than one conspiracy on the part of those who were jealous
of his pre-eminence. The most formidable of these was
fomented by his former patroness, Sobh, who found her-
self more and more thrust into the background. She
succeeded in gaining over her son, but Almans6r soon
recovered his ascendency over the feeble caliph, from whom
he extorted a document transferring all powers to himself.
A refusal of Bermudo II. to continue the payment of
tribute led to the last and most famous of his campaigns,
in which he took Compostella and carried off the gates and
bells from the shrine of St James, the patron saint of the
Christians. At the same time his generals were gaining
victories in Mauretania, and his power was almost equally
dreaded on both sides of the straits. His death in 1002
deprived the Spanish Moslems of the greatest ruler and
warrior, considering his origin, that their race had pro-
duced. His campaigns against the Christians, which are
reckoned by the Arab historians as more than fifty, were
almost uniformly successful. Three capitals — Leon, Pam-
plona, and Barcelona — had been conquered by him. His
home administration was as successful as his generalship,
and much of his attention was devoted to the construction
of roads and bridges, so as to facilitate communication
between all parts of Spain. He was a zealous, if not an
intelligent, patron of literature, but his real interests were
always practical. Finding that he was suspected by the
people of a laxuess in religious belief, he did not hesitate
to prove his orthodoxy by an act of politic vandalism.
Taking the chief 'ulemd into the library of Al-Hakam IL,
ho begged them to collect all the books on philosophy,
astronomy, and other prohibited sciences; and when they
had completed their task he ordered the condemned books
to be burnt on a vast pile.
Almans6r had been absolute in everything but name.
He had desired at one time to take the final step and to
supersede the incapable HishAm II. in the caliphate, but
he dreaded the inveterate attachment of the people to the
Omayyad dynasty. He had, however, taken steps to
secure the continuance of his family in power. His son,
'Abd al-Melik Mozaflfar sucieeded to the office of hdjib, and
ruled with tho same authority and success as his father.'
But the position was really untenable. An hereditary
monarchy is intelligible, but an hereditary line of chief
ministers is not. The early death of 'Abd al-Melik (1008)
gave the government to the weaker hands of his brother
'Abd al-Eahm4n. The latter was hated by the Moham-
medan clergy, partly because he indulged in the use of
wine, and partly because his mother had been born a
Christian. She was the daughter of a Sancho, either the
king of Navarre or the count of Castile, and her son was
nicknamed Sanchol, or the little Sancho.' The Amirids
were not popular. Their exaltation irritated, not only
the .families that claimed a higher rank by birth, but
also those who thought themselves their equals. Without
having any actual grievance to complain of, the people
vaguely desired a change of rulers. It was easy undei
the circumstances to effect a revolution. When Sanchol
returned from a campaign against Leon in 1009 he found
that his power had been completely overthrown. Moham-
med, a great-grandson of 'Abd al-Rahmin III., had- headed
an insurrection in the capital and had gained possession of
the caliph's person. Sanchol was put to death, and the
magnificent palace which his father had erected at Zahri
was razed to the ground. The Amirids fell, and with them
ended the grand period in the history of Moslem Spain.
Mohammed was not long content with the office of
hdijib. Scrupling to kill the unfortunate Hishim, who had
never made any opposition to the acts that had been com-
mitted in his name, he closely imprisoned him, and buried
the corpse of a Christian who bore a strong personal
resemblance to the caliph. Mohammed was now raised to
the caliphate, and assumed the title of Al-Mahdl (guided
by God). But his reign was not destined to be long or un-
troubled. He had been raised to power by a combination
of orthodox Moslems, of the so-called "Slavs" (foreign
slaves serving in the royal harem and in the army of the-
caliph) and of Berbers, and he alienated each in turn.
The Berbers, who formed an important part of the army,
were the first to revolt. Raising the standard of Solei-
OHAYTADS, 822-1031.]
SPAIN
315
man, a member 01 the Omayyad family, they obtained
assistance from Count Sancho of Castile, marched upon
Cordova, and inflicted a serious defeat upon the troops
which Mohammed imprudently led out to meet them.
Mohammed endeavoured to strengthen his position by
producing Hishim II., whom he had given out as dead.
But the Berbers refused to be turned from their purpose,
and occupied Cordova in November 1009. The ■wretched
Hisham was compelled to abdicate in favour of Soleimin,
and returned to his prison. Mohammed, who had escaped
to Toledo, now turned for assistance to the Christians,
who, by a sudden change of circumstances, had become
the arbiters of Mohammedan affairs. With the help of
troops from Catalonia he recovered Cordova, which had
to pay in constant sieges a terrible penalty for the levity
with which it had welcomed the- fall of the Amirids. In
pursuing the Berbers, however, Mohammed was again
defeated. The Slavs, who had hitherto supported him
for their own ends, determined to desert the unsuccessful
caliph. Hishim II. was again dragged from prison to
assume the throne, and Mohammed was murdered in his
presence. Widih, the leader of the Slavs, was now hcljib,
and aspired to play the part of Almans6r. But his
resources were at an end. An attempt to increase the taxes
roused general indignation, and he was put to death by
his own followers (1011). Two years later the nominal
reign of Hishdm II. came to an end. Cordova was taken
by SoleimAn and the Berbers, and the caliph disappeared
(1013). His fate remains one of the unsolved secrets of
hiiitory.
Soleimin was now formally proclaimed caliph, but his
power was more nominal than real. The provincial
governors had taken advantage of the civil war to make
themselves independent, and Soleimdn's authority was
I nly recognized by five towns — Cordova, Seville, Niebla,
C)ksonoba, and Beja. Even within this district he soon
found an opponent. The Slavs were unwilling to submit
to the domination of the Berbers, whose excesses the
caliph was unable to check. Their most powerful leader,
Khairdn, had been badly wounded in the late struggle,
but on his recovery he determined to avenge his defeat.
He found a capable ally in 'Al( b. Hammiid, a descendant
of the famous son-in-law of the Prophet, but whose family
had almost ceased to be Arab in their long residence in
Africa. 'All relied not only upon the Slavs but also
upon the Berbers, who regarded SoleimAn with contempt,
and looked upon "Ali as a fellow-countryman. SoIeimAn's
government was easily overthrown (1016), but Khairdn's
attempt to discover Hishim IL was unsuccessful, and he
had to acknowledge 'AH as caliph and to content himself
with the office of hdjib. The Hammiidite dynasty, thus
established in Cordova, was not destined to enjoy a long
tenure of power. KhairAn revolted against a sovereign
who was too able and spirited for the part of a HisbAm
II., and set up an anti-caliph in the person of another
Omayyad, 'Abd al-Rahm.ln IV., a great-grandson of 'Abd
al-Piahm;in III., who took the name of MortadA. 'All was
murdered in his bath (1017), but his supporters rallied
round his brother KAsim. For five years a confused civil
war raged which was complicated by the hostility to
KAsim of 'All's son, YahyA. In 1023 MortadA was slain
in battle, and the Omayyad party gave the crown to
another 'Abd al-RahmAn, a brother of the detestable Mahdl.
Two months later the young prince was murdered, but
his successful rival, Mohammed b. 'Abd al-RahmAn was
driven from Cordova in 1025. The Hammiidite caliph,
YahyA, now occupied the capital, but was slain in attempt-
ing to reduce the rebellious wdli of Seville to obedience.
Hishdm III., a brother of 'Abd al-Rahmdn MortadA, was
dow raised to the throne. But all central government
was by this time at an end ; no revenues could be drawn
from the rebellious provinces; and in 1031 Hishdm
abdicated a title which had ceased to have any meaning,
and sought peace and retirement in the neighbourhood of
Saragossa. His death five'years later was almost unnoticed
even in Cordova. With him ended the Omayyad dynasty,
which had ruled in Spain for nearly three centuries, and
which had produced princes worthy to be ranked with the
greatest of their contemporaries. Its decline dates from
the time when it allowed power to slip from its hands and
to be wielded by ambitious ministers.
Ever since the death of Almans6r Moslem Spain had
been gradually splitting up into a number of independent
principalities. With the extinction of the Omayyads the
last semblance of unity disappeared. " The Berber generals
shared the south ; the Slavs ruled in the east ; the rest
was divided either among successful adventurers or among
the small number of aoble families who had been fortunate
enough to escape the blows which 'Abd al-Rahmdn and
Almans6r had struck at the aristocracy. Finally, the two
most considerable towns, Cordova and Seville, were
organized as republics" (Dozy). Into the history of the
numerous dynasties which were established during this
period it is impossible to enter here, but the reader wil
find the subject not only fully but attractively treated in
the fourth volume of Dozy's Histoire des Musulmans d'Es-
pu'jne. See also Plate VII.
It was of additional moment that this disruption of tue States 4
Mussulman power was contemporary with the formation' C.-istUe
of the great Christian states of Aragon and Castile. They '"^
were not slow to profit by the opportunity held out t0{j..j^^
them. It was in this century that the Christian cause
found a champion in the famous Ruy Diaz Campeador,
who under the name of "The Cid" became the traditional
hero of Spanish medisval history. Ferdinand I. of
Castile (1037-1067) captured the strong places of ViseUj'
Lamego, and Coimbra, and was only diverted from the^
conquest of Toledo by the humble submission of the emir,'
who undertook to pay tribute to the Christian king. The
unfortunate division of his territories between his three
sons gave occasion to civil wars, which were only ter-
minated in 1072 by the reunion of the whole kingdom
under Alfonso VI. Following up his father's successes,
Alfonso made himself master of Toledo, which once more
became the capital of a Christian state. Meanwhile
Ramiro I. of Aragon (1035-1063) drove the Moors from
their last possessions in the counties of Aragon and
Sobrarbe. His son, Sancho Ramirez (1063-1094), joined
Alfonso VI. ill an attack on Navarre whi(!b resulted in
the partition of that state between the two kings, and
commenced a war against the emir of Saragossa which
ended, under his successors Pedro (1094-1104) and
.Mfonso L (1104-1136), in the conquest of Huesca and
Saragossa. The latter town became henceforth the recog-
nized capital of Aragon.
This period is also important in another aspect.
Hitherto the Christian kingdoms of Spain had been
naturally isolated from the rest of Europe. But the
papacy, under the guiding hand of Hildebrand (Gregory
VII.), was now making its ecclesiastical supremacy a
reality, and was not likely to tolerate independence even
in the most distant members of the church. Aragon,
which lay nearest to the other states of Western Christen-
dom, made little difficulty about comjjlying with the papal
demands. Ramiro not only agreed to adopt the Roman
ritual in his kingdom, but even sent tribute to Alexander
II. Castile, lying farther distant, was more inclircd to
resent dictation. At a council at Burgos (1077) it was
formally decided to retain the Gothic ritual. But Alfonso
VI. realized the darujer of isolating his state from the re»t
816
SPAIN
[histoky.
of Europe, and of his own accord conceded the demands of
Gregory VIL From this time Christian Spain was directly
connected with Kome, and became the most faithful, if not
the most servile, of Roman Catholic countries.
The Christian victories of the 11th century seemed
likely at one time to annihilate the Mohammedan power
in Spain. From this fate, however, it was saved, not by
any internal strength, but by the arrival of assistance
from Africa. The emir of Seville, Al-Mo"tamid, the most
powerful of the Moslem princes, watched with profound
misgiving the progress of the Castilian arms. When
Toledo fell before Alfonso VI. he determined to appeal to
;Yiisuf b. Tishufin, the king of the Almoravids, — a con-
federation of Berber sectaries that had recently established
a vast empire reaching from the Senegal to Algiers.
Yi'isuf, who had established his capital at Morocco in
1069, was at this time eighty years of age, but he did not
hesitate to accept the prospect of a new field of conquest
and adventure. In 1086 he sailed from Ceuta to
Algesiras, the cession of which he had demanded as the
price of his aid, and was at once joined by the forces of
the emirs of Andalusia. Alfonso VI. hastened to obtain
assistance from the king of Aragon and the count of
Barcelona, and with a larger force than had ever before
been assembled in the Christian cause he met the Moors
in the battle of Zallika (Sacralias), a few miles from
Eadajoz (October 1086). After an obstinate struggle
victory declared for the infidels, and Alfonso had great
difficulty in escaping with his life. Luckily for the
Castilians, Yus'if was recalled to Africa by the death of
his eldest son, whom he had left at Ceuta, and his victory,
■which might have been as decisive as that of Tdrik, was
not followed up. Alfonso even ventured to resume his
aggressions, and laid siege to the important towns of
Murcia and Almeria. Mo'tamid, seeing that the danger
was as great as ever, proceeded to Africa in person in order
to urge the return of Yusuf. The Almoravid prince, on
■whom the attractions of Andalusia had made a profound
impression, crossed again to Algesiras (1090), and this
itiue the predictions of the princes who had foreseen the
risk of calling in so powerful an ally were fully verified.
Postponing the task of resisting Alfonso, Yiisuf set to work
to make himself master of Andalusia. Mo'tamid himself
had to fly from his territories, after a futile appeal for aid
to the king of Castile. Captured by the Africans, the
emir of Seville was condemned to end his life in close'
imprisonment. In the course of a few years the whole of
Moslem Spain. was reunited under the king of Morocco,
land the death of the Cid in 1099 enabled the Moors to
(recover Valencia, which he had taken in 1094. This was
the last event of the reign of Yiisuf, who in 1103 handed
jover the government to his son 'All and returned to Africa,
where he died three years later at the ripe age of a
[hundred years.
Alfonso VI. of Castile had raised his kingdom to such
preeminence in the Peninsula that he had assumed the
title of " emperor of Spain." But a great disaster clouded
his later years. In 1108 his only son Sancho perished
fwith the flower of the Castilian chivalry on the fatal field
of Ucles, and most of Alfonso's conquests passed into the
hands of the victorious 'Alf. In 1109 the emperor died,
leaving the succession to his daughter Urraca, the widow
of Count Eaymond of Burgundy. In order to secure the
Unity of the Christian kingdoms, Urraca was married to
Alfonso I. of Aragon (1104-1134), who imitated his
father-in-law in assuming the imperial title. But the
imarriage failed to produce the desired result. Urraca
induced the Castilian nobles to revolt against the
Aragonese rule and to set up Alfonso VII., her son by her
first marriage. A civil war ensued, which was. only ended
in 1127 by the separation of the kingdoms. Alfonso I.
retained Aragon and Navarre, while Castile, with Leon
and Galicia, passed to Alfonso VII. Alfonso of Aragon
renewed the war against the Moors which he had so
gloriously begun by the capture of Tudela and Saragossa,
but in 1134 he was completely defeated in the battle of
Fraga, a disaster which hastened his death. As he had
no children, he bequeathed his territories to the great
crusading order of the Templars. The Aragonese, however,
refused to recognize this testament, and gave the crown to
his brother, Kamiro II. (1134-1137), who was brought out
of a monastery to contiuue the dynasty. Kamiro fulfilled
his duties by marrying a sister of the duke of Aquitaine,
who bore him a daughter, PetronUla. At the age of two
the child was betrothed to Raymond Berengar IV. of
Barcelona, and Ramiro, leaving the administration of the
kingdom to his son-in-law, hastened to return to his
cloister. Thus a permanent union was effected between
Aragon and Catalonia, both of which passed in 1162 to
PetronUla's son, Alfonso II. But, if Catalonia was gained,
another province, Navarre, was lost. The Navarrese had
long desired to recover their independence, and on the
death of Alfonso L they refused to acknowledge Ramiro,
and chose a ruler of their own, Garcia Ramirez. Ramiro,
who needed Garcia's generalship against a threatened
attack from Castile, recognized him, first as a vassal of
Aragon and afterwards as an independent' king. Thus
Navarre regained its place- among the kingdoms of Spain,
though it never enjoyed its old importance.
The main interest of Spanish history in the 13th
century centres round the war against the Moors, which
was beginning to attract the interest and assistance of the
other European states. It was the age of the great
crusades, and Christendom was absorbed in the struggle
against the infidel, both in the East and West. Spain, like
Palestine, had its crusading . orders, which vied with the
Templars and Hospitallers boih in wealth and military
distinction. The order of Calatrava was founded in 1158,
that of St James of Compostella in 1175, and the order
of Alcantara in 1176. The kingdom of Portugal, which
had risen with great rapidity in the 12th century, had a
no less distinguished order, that of Evora. These military
priests, debarred by their profession from the ordinary
interests o" humanity, gave a firmness and consistency to
the Christian cause which had too often been sacrificed to
the dynastic quarrels of the temporal princes.
The empire of the Almoravids, like so many of its
predecessors, had soon begun to fall to pieces. It was too
large and unwieldy for permanence. Its real centre was
at Jforocco, and the attention of the caliphs was absorbed
in the affairs of Africa, while the extortion and misgov-
ernment of their viceroys excited discontent among the
Mohammedans of Spain. This state of things gave a
great advantage to Alfonso VII. of Castile, who revived
the title of emperor of Spain, allied himself with Raymond
Berengar of Barcelona and Aragon, and sought to emulate
the achievements of his grandfather. For the second time
the Moorish power in Spain was only sa^ed from dissolu-
tion by the arrival of reinforcements from Africa. As
happened so often in Mussulman history, a movement
which began with religious reform ended with the forma-
tion of an empire. Mohammed b. 'Abdallah, an Arab
from Mount Atlas, gave himself out as the expected
Mahdl, and formed a sect known as the Alirohades
(Unitarians). His disciple, 'Abd alMu'min, was chosen
as his successor, and soon overthrew the power of the
Almoravids. TAshufin, 'All's son, made a vigorous but
ineffectual resistance, and the conqueror crossed the sea to
complete his work by the reduction of Spain (1146). The
succoss.of 'Abd al-Mu'min, if less rapid than that of Yiisuf,
NaTsrr©
independo
ent.
Cnisadiaf
orders.
Straggles
of AJmor-
avids and
Almo-
hadeff'
IITH TO I3TH CENTUKY.l
SPAIN
317
was quite as complete. The Almoiavids appealed to the
Christians, and both Castile and Aragon came to their
aid. Alfonso VII., with the help of the Qenoesc and
Pisan fleets, besieged and took Alnieria, while IJayniond
Berengar captured Tortosa. But these successes were only
temporary. In ten years the Almoravids had been driven
from the mainland, and only a small remnant found refuge
in the Balearic Islands. Almeria was again wrested from
the Castilians, and in 1157 Alfonso VII. died, the last of
the series of " emperors of Spain." His territories were
divided between his two sons, the elder, Sancho, succeed-
ing to Castile, while Leon went to his brother Ferdinand.
The quarrels which resulted from this partition would
probably have been fatal to the Christian cause but for the
exertions of the great knightly orders. The successors of
'Abd al-Mu'min (d. 116.3), Yusuf and Ya'kub Almans6r,
continued to advance the power of the Almohades, and
the latter inflicted a crushing defeat at Alarcos (1195)
upon Alfonso VIII. of Castile, who had succeeded his
father Sancho in 1158. Castile was at this time dis-
tracted by the feuds of the great families of Lara and
Castro, and the count of Castro, who had been worsted
by his rival, rendered conspicuous service to the infidels
in the battle. Even Sancho of Navarre, out of jealousy
of the rival kings, concluded an alliance with the Almo-
hades.
Downfall Luckily for the Christians Ya'kub, the most formidable
of the opponent they had had to face since the great Almansiir,
r|^°" died in 1199, and his death was followed by a rising of
the Almoravids which took five years to suppress. Mean-
while successful efforts had been made by the pope and
clergy to arrange the differences among the Christian
states, and a confederation was formed between the five
kings of Castile, Aragon, Leon, Navarre, and Portugal.
When Ya'kiib's successor, Jlohammed al-NAsir, had suc-
ceeded in restoring order in Andalusia and prepared to
inarch against the Christians, he was confronted by the
allies in the famous battle of Las Navas de Tolosa, in
the Sierra Morena (July 16, 1212). After an obstinate
struggle the Christians gained a decisive victory, and
their success decided the fate of Spain. The religious
impulse which had constituted the original strength of
the Almohades had come to an end ; they were regarded
as infidels by the orthodox Moslems, and the first failure
necessarily led to their downfall. The cruelties with
which they sought to repress the rising discontent only
excited popular feeling against them, and when Al-JIota-
wakkil, a descendant of the family of Ibn Hiid which
had once ruled in Saragossa, raised the standard of revolt
in Andalusia, the bulk of the population joined him, and
Al-Ma'miin, the last of the Almohades who held any
power in Spain, fled to Africa in 1232. The chief result
of their rule was to depress the Arab element in the Mus-
sulman population of Spain. Hitherto the Arabs, though
numerically in a minoritj', had retained the preponderance
due to their original prestige. Henceforth the infidels of
^Spain can only be considered and spoken of as Moors.
After the fall of the Almohades the triumphs of the
Christian arms were rapid and decisive. The separation
of Castile , and Leon, which had been productive of so
much disaster, was finally terminated in 1230 by the
accession of Ferdinand III., the son of Alfonso IX. of
Leon and Berengaria of Castile. The province of Estre-
madura had been annexed to Leon by Alfonso IX., and
tow formed part of the united kingdom which under
Ferdinand' III. rapidly extended itself southwards. In
1233 the 'Castilian army won a great victory over the
Moors under Al-Mota wakkil, and three years later Ferdin-
and himself captured Cordova, so long the capital of the
Mohammedan rulers and one of the most wealthy and
beautiful cities of Europe. In 1237 Al-Motawakkil waa
assassinated, and with him perished the last semblance of
Jloorish unity. The numerous emirs became independent
rulers, and the most powerful of them, Mohammed Ibn
al-Ahmar of Granada, became a tributary of Castile and
ceded the strong town of Jaen (12-16). In 1248 Seville,
the second of the Mohammedan cities, submitted to
Ferdinand, who within a few years annexed Xcrez de
la Frontera, Medina Sidouia, and Cadiz. By these
acquisitions the frontier of Castile was extended to the
southern coast before Ferdinand III. 's death in 1252. A
considerable number of Jloors submitted to the rule of
Castile, but the Christians had become intolerant during
the long war, and most of the conquered population
sought a new home either in Granada or in Africa.
Meanwhile Aragon had taken a no less important part
in the struggle. Pedro I. (1196-1213), the successor of
Alfonso II., had excited the discontent of his subjects,
partly by seeking coronation from Pope Innocent lU.,
and partly by his excessive taxation. The " union " of
nobles and towns compelled the king to diminish his ex-
actions. Pedro took part in the battle of Navas de Tolosa,
.but his attention was diverted from Spanish affairs by hisi
relationship with Raymond of Toulouse, which involved
him in the Albigensian crusade, where he met his death. |
His son James I. (1213-1276), however, resumed the war|
against the infidels, and won in it ihe title of "The
Conqueror." With the help of his Catalonian subjects, at
that time perhaps the most accomplished sailors in the
world, he conquered the Balearic Islands (1229-1233),
which had long been a stronghold of the Jloslem and
a centre for piratical attacks upon the Christian states.
Still more important was his reduction of Valencia (1238),'
which had once before been conquered by Ruy Diaz. The
last achievement of the great king was the conquest of
the province of Murcia (1266), the last of the Moorish
territories in Spain except Granada. JIurcia, though
reduced by Aragon, was handed over to Castile. By the
acquisition of Algarve Portugal had already acquired
frontiers which correspond roughly to those which it has
at the present day.
From the latter half of the 13th century the crusading
energy of the Spaniards came to a sudden standstill, and
the Moors were allowed to retain possession of Granad?
for more than two centuries. The causes of this abrupt
termination of the war before it had reached what seemed
to be its natural and legitimate end have often been dis-
cussed. In the first place Castile was henceforth the only
state which was directly interested in the war. By the
acquisition of Seville and Murcia it had separated Granada
both from Portugal and Aragon, neither of which statea
had henceforth any conterminous frontier with the Moors.
The state of Granada, though small when compared with
Castile, was by nature easily defensible, as was made
amply apparent in the last campaigns under Ferdinand
and Isabella. The attention of Castile was often distrac ted
by foreign interests or by internal dissensions. Again,
the Moors were more concentrated and homogeneous in
Granada than they had been when their rule was more
extensive. The largo subject population, many of whom
were Christians or renegades, had been a great source of
weakness, and this no longer existed. They, like their
opponents, had given up the tolerance that had once di»-
tinguished them, and hardly any but true Mohammedans
can have remained in Granada. Something, too, must be
attributed to the wily policy and well-timed submission of
Mohammed Ibn al-AIimar, who even gave a.ssistanco to
Ferdinand III. against the other Moorish emirs.
With the termination of the crusade Spanish history,
loses what little unity it had possessed for the last two
518
SPAIN
[histoey.
centuries, and it becomes necessary to follow the fortunes
of each state separately. Into the history of Granada it
is as impossible as it would be tedious to enter within the
limits of this article. It is a long record of revolution
and civil war, in which nothing above the most petty
personal interests are concerned. There is no change of
dynasty, but one perpetual struggle between members of
the same family. It would not be easy to enumerate
even the names of the successive rulers, many of whom'
were several times deposed and restored to power. Even
during the final struggle, when the existence of the king-
dom was at stake and the one hope of resistance lay in
unity, the national cause was sacrificed to the jealous
rivalry of three claimants of the throne. The history of
Castile and Aragon, on the other hand, assumes a new
character and interest when the attention of kings and
people ceased to be absorbed in the overwhelming excite-
ment of a great religious war.
Castile The constitution of Castile traced its origin back to the
('252~ ' institutions of the Visigoths, which had been carried by
'' the original refugees into the mountains of Asturias, but
it had been profoundly modified by the circumstances
under which the kingdom had risen to greatness. The
war with the infidel, while it had given strength and
unity to the monarchy, had at the same time compeHed
Consti- the granting of considerable independence to the nobles
tation and the great towns. The religious character of the war
^jjj had enabled the clergy to retain greater- powers than they
iom. possessed in any other European country, though they
had lost that omnipotence which they had enjoyed under
the Visigoths. Their councils and synods, which had once
•formed the sole constitutional machinery of the country,
had been superseded by the secular assembly of the cortes.
The early history of the cortes is wrapped in great
obscurity, but its main outlines are fairly discernible.
I Originally a meeting of the great nobles and royal house-
jhold, it had attained the position of a national assembly
'in 1162, when the deputies of the chief towns were
admitted to membership. Its powers and procedure
developed gradually, and naturally varied according to the
character of the diflferent kings. Its first functions were the
approval of legislation and the granting of extraordinary
taxation, though it is difficult to say when its sanction of
'such measures was regarded as essential. The assembly
'consisted of the three estates — clergy, nobles, and citizens
k— who deliberated sometimes separately and sometimes
ifegether. Kepresentation existed only in the case of the
third estate, whose members were elected at first by all
(free citizens and afterwards by the municipal magistrates.
The number of cities which ^ sent deputies varied very
much' at different times. As to what constituted the
right of attendance in the case of the nobles and clergy
'there is great obscurity, but it probably depended partly
upon tenancy-in-chief and partly upon royal summons. As
both classes were exempt from taxation, their functions
"were less important'than those of the third estate, and on
more than one occasion we find meetings of the cortes in
which the upper orders took no part. The weakness of
the assembly, as contrasted with the English parliament.
Jay mainly in the absence of any class like the knights of
the shire to form a link between the burgesses and the
great nobles. In early times, probably the most effective
check upon the royal power lay in the independent privi-
leges claimed and exercised by the chief feudatories.
Their tenants were bound to feudal service; and the right
of private war made them petty sovereigns on their own
estates. The long feud of the families of Castro and
Lara is only a notable example of the difficulties which
the central power had to contend with. For the protec-
tion of their privileges, both nobles and towns claimed
the right of forming an armed union or hermandad, which
resembled the right of " confederation " exercised in later]
times by the nobles of Poland. The ordinary adminis-
tration, except when war was going on, was local rather
than central. The nobles had judicial powers within their
domains, though it appears that these were granted by
the crown rather than derived from their territorial
position. The bishops and higher clergy administered)
ecclesiastical jurisdiction 'as in other countries, and at the'
same time exercised the same powers as the secular lords
over the large estates which the piety or superstition of
generations of benefactors had conferred upon them. Tho
connexion with Kome, though established in the 11th'
century, had not become very close before the middle of the
12th century ; the appointment to most of the benefices was
in the hands of the crown, and the church of Castile was
more independent even than that of England. In tha
cities and great towns, most of which included a consider-
able extent of adjacent territory, the administration both
of justice and of local affairs was in the hands of elected
corporations, which had received grants of liberties at thel
time when they had served as important outposts againsB
the attacks of the infidel. In theory, probably, therel
existed in all cases a right of appeal to the crown, but this
was a right which, in the nature of things, was rarely
exercised. The attempt of subsequent kings to control
or supersede the local administration of justice by tha
appointment of corregidcrts was always resisted as aa
encroachment upon traditional liberties. Even the taxes,
though granted by a central assembly, were assessed and
collected by the local officials, and jealous care was taken
to secure that they should only be applied to the purpose
for which the grant had been made.
Ferdinand III., "The Saint," was succeeded in 1252
by his son, Alfonso X., "The Wise." The new king gave
up the military policy of his father, and the only territorial
acquisition of his reign, the province of Murcia, was won
for him by the arms of Aragon. On the other hand, he
was a great student and patron both of literature and
science, especially of astronomy. He invited to his court
the most- distinguished scholars not only in Christian but
also in Arabic lore, and he raised the university of
Salamanca to rank with the great schools of Paris and
Oxford. He also turned his attention to legislation, and
his code, tho Siete Partidas, is one of the great legislative
monuments of an age which produced the £iablissemenis
of St Louis and the great statutes of Edward I. Com-
piled under the influence of the civil and canon laws,
the Siete Partidas was in some respects disadvantageous,
especially as admitting papal encroachments upon tha
ecclesiastical power of the crown. Though drawn up
under Alfonso X., it did not finally supersede the ancient
fueros until 1348, when it was formally approved by the
cortes. But Alfonso's reign, though distinguished in the
history of literature and law, was not on the whole a
prosperous period for Castile, and it was to a great extent
his fault that the opportunity of driving the Moors fronu
the Peninsula was allowed to slip. On the fall of tha
Hohenstaufen he came forward as a candidate for thei
imperial dignity, and through the period known as the
"great interregnum " he and Kichard of Cornwall, chosei^
by rival parties among the electors, bore the empty titla
of king of the Komans. The expense of bribing the;
electors and of maintaining a magnificent court involved,
Alfonso in pecuniary difficulties and compelled him tQ
alienate his subjects by imposing heavy taxes and by
debasing the coinage. But the hardships inflicted on tha
country by the king's futile ambition were as nothing
compared with those which arose from a disputed succes-
sion to tho crown. By the old custom of Castile nearness
lOASTILE, 1252-1479.]
SPAIN
319
of blood gave a superior claim to priority of descent, so
that the second son of a king would be preferred to the
children of the eldest son. The Siete PartieUis recognized
the more modern rule of succession ; but, as that code had
not yet been accepted by the cortes, its ruling had no bind-
ing force. The question arose in 1275, when Alfonso's
eldest son, Ferdinand de la Cerda, perished in a campaign
against the Moors, leaving two sons, Ferdinand and Al-
fonso. The king's second son, Sancho, was at once declared
heir to the crown, but the widow, Blanche, announced her
intention to uphold the rights of her children, and she
received support both from Pedro III. of Aragon and from
her brother, Philip III. of France. A long war followed,
which was further complicated when Alfonso X., having
quarrelled with his son, proposed a partition between the
rival claimants. So far did the dispute go that the Moors,
instead of being attacked in Granada, were called upon to
give their assistance to the factions among their enemies.
The result of these internal quarrels was to increase the
already excessive power of the noble families, and this
was productive of further disturbances in the reign of
iincBD Sancho IV. (1284-1295). The family of Castro seems
V to have sunk into comparative insignificance, but the
Laras had found a new rival in the house of Haro. The
whole state was divided by their feuds, and the king
found himself degraded from the position of arbiter to
that of a partisan. The condition of affairs became even
worse when the death of Sancho gave the crown to his
srdinaiid infant son Ferdinand IV. (1295-1312). In an early
^ ' stage of society a minority is always an evil, and Castile
at this period had more than a fair share of such
misfortunes. The crown was contested, not only by the
late king's brother John, but also by Alfonso de la Cerda,
who returned from France to maintain a claim which had
already been negatived by the accession of Sancho. The
king of Aragon supported Alfonso, while the rulers of
Portugal and Granada mixed themselves up in the quarrel
to obtain advantages for themselves. The regency had
been bequeathed by Sancho to his widow, Maria de
Molina, but her marriage had been declared uncanonical
by the pope, so that a slur was cast upon the legitimacy of
her son. Nothing but the great skill and capacity dis-
played by the regent could have secured victory under
such discouraging circumstances. By mingled submission
and defiance she disarmed one opponent after another,
induced the pope to ratify her marriage, and finally suc-
ceeded in transferring the government to her son on his
coming of age. Ferdinand's harshness provoked a renewal
of the conflict ; but ultimately the treaty of Camillo (1305)
put an end to the struggle, and compensated the princes
of La Cerda with lavish cessions of territory. Alfonso
preferred to remain an exile rather than to abandon his
claims, but his son accepted the proffered conditions and
became the founder of the great house of Medina Sidonia.
But the treaty made little difference to the country.
Disorder and civil war had become a chronic disease in
Castile, and Ferdinand IV. was himself too deeply imbued
with the spirit of the age to maintain peace with a strong
hand. The story that is told about his death ilhi.'itrates
his character. In spito of a solemn promise made twice
during his reign that every accused person should have a
fair trial, ho ordered two brothers of the name of Carvajal
to be put to death without the pretence of judicial forms.
They summoned him to appear before the supremo tribunal
■within thirty days, and on one morning within that period
Le was found dead in his bed. The cause of his death was
never ascertained, but the people regarded the event as a
judgment, and he has received from this story the name of
"The Summoned" {El Emplazado).
Ferdinand IV. 's death was followed by another and atill
longer minority, as his son, Alfonso XL (1312-1350),
was only two y^ars old at the time. The regency was
claimed by the late king's brother Don Pedro and by his
uncle Don John, and from this dispute arose a civil war
fiercer and more destructive than any of its predecessors.
The central authority ceased to exist ; both nobles and
towns had to protect themselves as best they could ; the
royal domains were seized upon by rapacious neighbours,
and the person of the young king was Only saved by his
being concealed in the cathedral of Avila. At last the
mediation of the pope and of Maria de Molina brought
about a compromise, and the administration was divided
between the two regents, — Pedro taking the south-eastern
and John the north-western provinces (1315). But a few
years later they were both killed in a joint campaign
against the emir of Granada, and the disorders broke out
with worse violence than ever (1319). Four " infants," as
the members of the royal family were called, contended
foT the government, and the assumption of po'wer by the
king himself at the age of fifteen failed to put a stop to
their feuds. The charsnter of Alfonso XI. was as harsh
and brutal as was to be expected in a man who had been
educated in such troubled times. He invited his cousin,
a younger Don John, to a banquet in the royal palace,
and treacherously murdered him. His treatment of his
first wife, whom he divorced in order to marry a daughter
of the king of .Portugal, provoked Her laclier, Don John
Emanuel, a nephew of Alfonso X., to head a rising which
took years to suppress. The Portuguese princess was also
repudiated by her husband, who had been inspired with a
passion for the beautiful Eleanor de Guzman, and the
forces of Portugal were added to those of the Castilian
rebels. After a long struggle (1335-1337) Alfonso XL
succeeded in reducing his opponents to submission, while
he conciliated Alfonso IV. of Portugal by restoring his'
daughter to her position as queen. The restoration of
unity was extremely opportune, as Spain was threatened
at this moment by a new invasion from Africa. Abu '1
Hakam, the head of the Merinids and emir of Fez,
crossed over to Gibraltar with a huge army in 1339, and
was acknowledged as suzerain by the ruler of Granada.
Assistance was obtained both from Aragon and Portugal,
and in 1340 Alfonso XL marched to the relief of Tarifa,
which was besieged by the Moors. On the banks of the
Salado the Christians won a great victory, which destroyed
the last chanc:! of a revival of the Mohammedan power in
Spain. Abu '1 Hakam fled to Africa, and in 1344 Alfonso
concluded a glorious war by the reduction of Algcsiras.
In the hope of cutting off all connexion between Granada
and Africa, Alfonso laid siege to Gibraltar in 1350, but
before he could accomplish his design lie was carried off
by the Black Death. His victories over the infidel have
led the Spanish historians to gloss over the acts of cruelty
and treachery which have left an ineffaceable stain upon
his character. His reign, troubled as it was, constitutes
an important epoch in the history of Castilian liberties.'
In 1328 ho issued two laws which formed the firmest
basis of the powers of the cortes. Ho recognized the
right of that assembly to bo consulted in all important
matters of state, and he solemnly pledged himself and liis
successors not to impose any now tax without its approval
and consent. These concessions were to some extent
counterbalanced by his restriction of the right of electing
deputies to tho regidores or magistrates of each city.
This narrowing of the franchise was a great blow to the
popular rights, and it gave tho crown facilities for tamper-
ing with the elections which wcro frequently abused in
later days. But at tho tiuio the municipal magistrates
enjoyed considerable independence, and for several genera-
tions the cortes showed no signs of subservience. In fact
320
SPAIN
Alfonso's position made him dependent upon the support
of the citizens against the great lords, so that he was not
likely to aim at diminishing the power of the former
class. Another important event of the reign was the
granting by the cortes, for the expenses of the Moorish
war, of the alcavala, a tax of a twentieth upon every sale
of real or personal property. This tax, one of the most
ruinous that can be conceived, illustrates the want of
economical insight in the 14th century, and was destined
in later times to seriously impede the industrial and
commercial development of Spain.
The atrocities of Alfonso XL's reign sink into insignifi-
cance when compared with those committed by his son and
successor, Pedro I. (1350-1.369). The story of the latter's
rule is mainly derived from the narrative of his avowed
enemies, but there is no reason to doubt the substantial
accuracy of the charges which have given him the name of
" The Cruel." Some of his actions may perhaps be attri-
buted to a politic desire to destroy the ascendency of the
great nobles, whom the princes of the royal house had often
headed against the crown ; but most of them can only be
explained by a thirst for bloodshed which almost amounted
to mania. He ascended the throne at the age of sixteen,
and was at once urged by his mother Maria of Portugal
to avenge the wrongs which she had endured at the hands
of her rival, Eleanor de Guzman. The unfortunate
Eleanor was strangled in prison, and her sons could only
secure safety by flight. The eldest, Henry of Trastamara,
found a refuge first in Portugal and afterwards in France.
A wife was now found for the young king in Blanche,
daughter of the duke of Bourbon, in the hope of
strengthening his throne by a French alliance. But
Pedro had formed a connexion with Maria de Padilla ; and,
when he was at last induced to go through the marriage
ceremony with Blanche, he quitted her immediately to
return to his mistress, whose brothers he advanced to the
chief offices of state. A conspiracy of nobles, headed by
Alfonso of Albuquerque, lately the king's favourite, was
suppressed with ruthless severity. Pedro now concluded
a second marriage with Juana de Castro, although Blanche
was still living, but he again returned to Maria de Padilla.
Another conspiracy, backed up by the pope and the
French king, was more successful After standing a long
siege in Tordesillas, Pedro was compelled to concede the
demands of the coalition and to acknowledge Blanche as
his lawful queen. But his submission was only feigned.
Seizing the opportunity of a hunting-party to escape from
the imprisonment in which he was kept at Toro, he rallied
a mercenary army round him and took terrible vengeance
upon his opponents (1355-56). Henry of Trastamara,
■who had joined in the rising, escaped to France, where
he took part in the war against the English. It would
be wearisome to catalogue the long list of cruelties, begin-
ning with the murder of the unfortunate Blanche of Bour-
bon, of which Pedro was guilty during the next ten years.
It seems almost incredible that such a monster should have
been allowed to reign in a country which had already
shown so much independence as Castile. But several
causes combined to secure him against deposition. In the
first place, it was upon the nobles and the Jews that his
hand fell with such severity, while to the citizen class he
was on the whole a lenient ruler. This explains why it
was that the cortes made little or no opposition when he
endeavoured to secure the succession to his own children.
In 1362 he solemnly swore that he had been lawfully
married to Maria de Padilla, and his four children by her
were recognized as heirs to the crown. His son Alfonso,
however, died in the same year, and only two daughters,
Constance and Isabella, survived their father. Another
point in Pedro's favour was the outbreak in 1356 of a war
LHlSTOEY.
with Aragon, which lasted almost without intermission for
the rest of the reign, and in the course of which the
Aragonese king was joined by Henry of Trastamara.
Much as the Castilian nobles hated Pedro, they hated
Aragon still more, and they were unwilling to accept a
king who might seem to be forced upon them by the
neighbouring kingdom. This war was in a way harmful
to the interests of both kings. They were both eager to
depress the powerful nobles in their territories, but their
continued hostilities only enabled these nobles to extend
their power. On more than one occasion this community
of interest was on the verge of leading to an agreement
which would probably have excluded the house of Trasta-
mara for ever from Castile, but each time national and
personal enmity combined to revive the quarrel. Though
Castile was larger and possessed of more resources than its
rival, the presence of a large number of Castilian exiles
in Aragon made the combat fairly even. But in 1365
Henry of Trastamara obtained new and more formidable
auxiliaries. Charles V. of France, who was now beginning
to reorganize that country after the English wars, was only
too glad to allow the disorderly bodies of disbanded
soldiers to seek employment in Spain under the leadership
of Bertrand du Guesclin. To these formidable enemies
Pedro did not venture to offer resistance, and fled to'
Bayonne, while his half-brother Henry was everywhere
acknowledged as king (1366). But Pedro succeeded in
convincing the Black Prince of the justice of his cause and
of the impolicy of allowing the French king to gain over-
whelming influence in the Peninsula. Before the end of
the year Edward's army had crossed the Pyrenees, a
number of English mercenaries in Du Guesclin's service
deserted to the banner of their old leader, and in April
1367 was fought the great battle of Najera or Navarrete,
near Logrono. Du Guesclin was taken prisoner; Henry
of Trastariiara fled to France ; and Pedro was restored to
his throne. But the Castilian king had learnt no wisdom
from adversity. His barbarity disgusted his allies, who
were further alienated by his failure to furnish his
promised supplies. The fever had already begun to
decimate his troops and to weaken his own health when
the Black Prince quitted Castile. His departure gave
another opportunity to Henry of Trastamara, who had
obtained fresh reinforcements from Charles V. In 1369
the battle of Montiel was decided in Henry's favour. Pedro
was taken prisoner, and was killed in a personal struggle
with his rival, into whose tent he was brought. His two
surviving daughters had been left as hostages at Bordeaux,
and were married to two brothers of the Black Prince,
— John of Gaunt, and Edmund Langley, duke of York.
Henry II. (1369-1379) was of illegitimate birth, and
his marriage with the heiress of the La Cerdas was hardly
suSicient to remove all doubts as to his claim to the
succession. But within his kingdom he met with little
opposition. The Castilians were glad to settle down under
an orderly government after the late reign, and the f-ew
malcontents exiled themselves to join the foreign claimants
of the throne. The most important of these was Pedro I.
of Portugal, whose grandmother belonged to the legitimate
line of Castile, and John of Gaunt, who came to Spain to
vindicate the rights of his wife Constance. Pedro 1.
proved for a time a formidable enemy. He allied him-
self with the !Moors, who seized the opportunity to recover
Algesiras, and with the king of Aragon, who annexed the
border districts of Castile. But Pedro was an incapable
warrior, and soon abandoned his own claim to obtain the
English support by acknowledging John of Gaunt. But
this enabled Henry to renew his alliance with France, and
with the help of French troops he invaded Portugal,
besieged Lisbon, and compelled Pedro to make peace,,
OASTILE, 1252-1479- .1
SPAIN
321
Two years later a treaty was concluded with the king of
Aragon, by which his conquests were restored. For the
remainder of his reign Henry's throne was secure, and he
left the kingdom in peace to his son John I. (1379-1390).
The chief interest of the new reign centres round the
relations with Portugal. The first renewal of the war was
the wois of the Portuguese king Ferdinand, who again
supported the Enghsh ' claims upon Castile. But the
alliance with England was not popular in Portugal, and in
1383 a treaty was concluded, which, however, proved
productive rather of evil than of gr.od. Beatrix, the only
daughter of Ferdinand, was married to the Castilian king ,
iand it was agreed that her children, whether male or
female, should succeed to the throne of Portugal. A few
months later Ferdinand died. Beatrix was at once pro-
claimed queen, and her mother undertook the regency.
But the idea of union with Castile, which would involve
the subordination of the smaller kingdom, was intensely
unpopular at Lisbon. A rising overthrew the authority of
the queen-mother, and the administration was entrusted to
John, a brother of the late king. John of Castile at once
entered Portugal to enforce what he considered to be the
rights of his wife. But his high-handed measures only
added strength to the opposition, and made the new regent
the leader of a national movement. In 1384 the Castihan
forces laid siege to Lisbon, which held out with obstinate
resolution for five months, when the besiegers retired.
Exulting in their success, the Portuguese determined to
have nothing more to do with Beatrix ; and an assembly
of the cortes gave the crown to the regent John. The
Castilian king now made a determined effort to uphold
his failing cause, but at the great battle of Aljubarrota
(August 1385) his army suffered a crushing defeat. _ It
was now the turn of the Portuguese to take the aggressive,
and the arrival of John of Gaunt enabled them once more
to take up his cause. It was only the aid pf France and
the dislike of the Castilians for the foreign-bred Constance
and her husband that enabled John to make head against
his numerous enemies. In 1387 he succeeded in termin-
ating the English part of the quarrel. His eldest son
Henry, the first heir to the crown who received the title
of prince of Asturias, was betrothed to Catherine, daughter
of Constance, in whose favour John of Gaunt renounced
aU claims on behalf of his wife (1387). The war with
Portugal now sunk into a chronic struggle on the frontier,
but was still going on when John I. died in 1390.
With the accession of Henry III. (1390-1406), a boy of
eleven, Castile was again face to face with the difficulties of
a minority, and these were the more formidable on account
of the absence of any prince of the blood-royal to assume
the regency. By the will of the late king the administra-
tion was entrusted to a council to be formed by joint
representation of the three estates. But the composition
of this body was altered so as to give more power to the
great nobles and prelates, and their quarrels soon involved
the kingdom in the troubles of a civil war, from w-hich
it had been comparatively free in the last two reigns.
Luckily for Castile, the young king, who assumed the
government in 1393, showed himself to be a man of equal
insight and resolution. By throwing himself boldly upon
the support of the third estate, and by giving them the
predominance in the cortes, he sue cded in _ taking
efficient measures against the nobles. All domain-lands
which had been alie.iated during his minority had to be
restored, and all confederations among the barons wore
declared illegal and dissolved. The , discontent which
these measures provoked was promptly suppressed before
it could develop into insurrection. At the same time the
country enjoyed the blessings of external peace. Henry's
marriage with Catherine of Lancaster secured him against
hostilities not only from England but also from Portugal,
whose queen was Catherine's sister. Unfortunately for
the kiugdom which he ruled with such wisdom and success,
Henry III. died in 1406 at the early age of twenty-seven,
leaving an infant son to succeed him.
The minority of John II. was the most orderly period
of his reign (1406-1454). The government was wielded
by the able hands of his uncle Ferdinand, to v.-hom the
Castilians would have given the crown if he had been
willing to supplant his nephew. Even after his accession
to the throne of Aragon in 1412 he continued to give his
advice to the queen-mother. The administration during
these years was strong and orderly. The fortress of
Antequera was taken from the Moors, and the Castilian
nobles were kept in the same subjection as in the late
reign. A new and disastrous period commenced in 1417,
when the death of his mother transferred the reins of
government to John IL at the age of fourteen. Averse
to the cares of business and absorbed in personal pleasures,
the young king was only too ready to allow himself to be
guided by any one who would take the responsibility of-
rule upon his own shoulders. Before many years had
elapsed he had fallen completely under the influence of
Alvaro de Luna, grandmaster of the order of St James
and constable of Castile. The minister, possessed of all
the qualities which would have endowed a great monarch,
set himself to increase the royal power. _ Not only were
the nobles depressed to a condition of impotence which
they had never yet experienced, but steps were also taken
to diminish the powers of the third estate. Many of the
lesser towns in Castile, as in England at the same period,
found that the right of representation involved pecuniary
burdens which they were eager to get rid of. this made
it easy for the minister to reduce the number of to^-ns
sending deputies to the cortes to some seventeen or
eighteen of the larger cities. This diminution of the
third estate, though not resented, was an insidious blow
at its real interests, and made it easy for Charles V. and
his successor to reduce the cortes to impotence. The
arbitrary government of John II., which might have been
endured if it had been really directed by the king himself,
was intolerable to nhe nobles when it was known to be
inspired by his minister. The reign is filled by a series
cl conspiracies, in which the domestic malcontents found
powerful allies in John II.'s cousins, John and Henry of
Aragon. But Alvaro de Luna was a warrior as well as a
politician, and succeeded in foiling all direct attempts to
effect his overthrow. His ultimate fall was due to the
ingratitude of the king whom he had served too well.
John's second wife, Isabella of Portugal, disgusted at the
small amount of inlluence which the minister allowed her
to exercise, set herself to efl'ect his overthrow. Onco
deprived of the 'royal favour, Alvaro do Luna had no
further support to rest upon. The very absolutism which
he himself had built up was turned against him, and he
was executed after a trial which was notoriously unfair.
A year later John II. followed him to the grave, and the
crown passed to his son, Henry IV., the feeblest sovereign
that ruled in Castile before the 17th century. His mind
was as feeble as his body, and the contempt of his sub-
jects has fixed upon him the title of "The Impotent
His first favourite, the marquis of ViUena, was supplanted,
after Henry's marriage with Joanna of Portugal, by
Beltran de la Cueva, whom scandal declared to be the
queen's paramour. The birth of a daughter did nothing
to check these rumours, and the unfortunate infanta was
only known as " la Beltraneja." The government was not
exactly oppressive, but it faUed to command respect, and
personal jealousies and ill-feeling were euthc.ent to prcv
duce a revolt. The leaders were the marquis of ^lllena
322
SPAIN
[history.
and Carillo,- arcLbisLop of Toledo, both of wliom bad
objects of their owu to serve. lu 1405 the rebellion
broke out, and its first act 'n-as the formal deposition of
Henry at Avila, after an absurd ceremony in which the
king ^^•as represented by a puppet. The conspirators
denounced the infanta Joanna as illegitimate, and olJered
the crown to Henry's brother Alfonso. In the course of
the civil war which followed, Alfonso died (146S), and
his partisans at once put forward the claims of his sister
Isabella. But the infanta, who already displayed a
wisdom and moderation beyond her years, refused to be
involved in hostilities with her elder brother, and she
succeeded in arranging a treaty by which she was recog-
nized as Henry IV.'s heiress. The king himself struggled
hard to evade these conditions, and after his death in
1474 Joanna's cause was espoused by her uncle, Alfonso
V. of Portugal. But Isabella .succeeded in securing her
accession to the throne, and her marriage with Ferdinand
of Aragou, by paving the way for the union of the two
kingdoms, begins a new period in which for the first time
there is a real history of united Spain.
The kingdom of Aragon which vre left in the reign of
James the Conqueror (1213-1276), consisted of the three
provinces of Aragon, Catalonia, and Valencia. Each pro-
vince retained its own laws and institutions, and Valencia
and Catalonia regarded with the keenest jealousy any
attempt to govern them on the principles which prevailed
in Aragon The powers of the crown were far more
limited than in the neighbouring kingdom of Castile.
The great nobles, or 7icos hombres, formed a small and
exclusive class, whose privileges made them almost the
equals of the monarch. All conquests had to be divided
between them, and the king was forbidden to confer a fief
or honour upon any person outside their ranks. They
possessed and exercised the right of private war, and were
entitled at will to renounce their allegiance to their
sovereign. The smallness of their numbers made them
much more united than the nobles of Castile, and propor-
tionately morei formidable. The difference between the
two kingdoms was recognized by Ferdinand the Catholic
with his usual acnteness when he said that "it was as
difficult lo divide the nobles of Aragon as it was to unite
those of Castile." But the privileges of the nobles, great
as they were, were not the only chec'K upon the royal
power. Each province had its own cortes, which possessed
from a very early date the right of granting taxes and
approving legislation. In Valencia and Catalonia the
cortes consisted, as in Castile, of the ordinary three
estates ; but in Catalonia, where a maritime life had in-
spired the inhabitants with a passionate love of freedom,
the commons enjoyed a predominance which was hardly
to be paralleled in any other country in the Middle Ages.
The cortes of Aragon, which were more important, and
whose history has been more carefully elucidated, consisted
of four estates or arms (hra:os). Besides the great prelates
and the' ricos hombres, both of whom had the right of
appearing by proxy, there was a separate chamber of
smaller landholders. This contained the infanzones, or
Josser tenauts-in-chief, and the caballeros or knights, who
were tenants of the greater barons but whose military
rank gave them the right of personal attendance. The
fourth chamber alone was representative, and consisted of
the deputies of the towns. Theu presence is first men-
tioned in 1133, thirty years before anything is heard of
popular representation in Castile. Their numbers were
naturally small, as the kingdom was of very limited
extent, but it seems to have been early established that a
town which had onco sent deputies was permanently
■entitled to tho privil(?ge, and this preserved them from
iaving tlicir rights tampered with bj the- crown as was
done in dastile. Besides their legislative and taxative
functions, the Aragonese cortes were also a supreme court
of justice, and in this capacity were presided over by the
jiichnay, an official whose unique powers have attracted
the attention of all writers on Spanish history. In its
origin the office had nothing very remarkable about it,
and it is onlj* the peculiar circumstances of the kingdom
which forced it into such prominence. The justiciar wa.s
net at first entrusted with any political functiona, but
the difficulty of adjusting the relations between the king
and the baions led to his bsing called in as mediator. By
the 14th century he had become almost the supremo
arbiter in all constitutional questions. To him the people
could appeal against any infraction of their liberties, while
the king regarded him as his chief councillor and as the
most efhcient barrier against armed rebellion, which was
the only alternative method ol settling disputes between
his subjects and himself. As the justiciar thus became
the pivot of the constitution, it was of great importance to
secure that he should exercise his fuoctioos with firmness
and impartiaUty. As the ricos liombres were exempted
from corporal punishment, he was always chosen from the
lesser nobles or knights, and was made responsible to the
cortes under penalty of death. The dignity of the office
was enhanced by the character of its successive holders ;
and the ■ medieval history of Aragou abonndB \ritk
instances of their fearless opposition to the crown auu of
their resolute resistance to despotism on the one hand and.
to anarchy on the other.
The glorious reign of James (I.) the Conqueror was,
disturbed towards its close by quarrels which arose frora
his scheme of partitioning his conquests among hif
children. The death, however, of his youngest and
favourite son put an end to these projects, and the most
important of the provinces passed into the hands of Pedro
IIL (127G-1285). Under Pedro and his son and suc-
cessor Alfonso III. (1285-1291), attention was almost
wholly diverted from internal affairs to the conquest ofc
Sicily. By his marriage with Constance, the daughter of
Manfred, Pedro could put forward a claim to succeed to,
the Hohenstaufen in Naples and Sicily, . but it is not
probable that he would have been able to make .any use of
the claim if the Sicilian Vespers (1283) Lad not thrown
that island into his hands. The result was a long serieai
of wars with the Angevin rulers of Naples, but the hoFd,
upon Sicily was steadily retained. These wars had a
notable influence upon Ai'agonese history, as they compelled
the kings to purchase the support of their subjects by
concessions which could only with great difficulty have,
been extorted from them. Thus in 1283 Pedro IIL
granted the famous "General Privilege," the Magna Carta
of Aragon. By this the crown formally laid down a number
of rules to secure all classes against oppression. The
General Privilege is quite as important a document as the
English charter ; it is even more full and precise, and its
numerous confirmations show that it was a? highly prized.
It had the additional advantage of being issued to a people
already possessed of institutions sufficiently developed to
employ and defend the national liberties. But if Pedro's
concessions were for the advantage of his country, his
successor went to an extreme which was equally harmful
In 1287 Alfonso III. signed the famous "Privilege of
Union," by which his subjects were formally authorized t4
take' up arms against their sovereign if he ottempted to
infringe their liberties. The right of revolt, while it is
and must be the ultimate safeguard against oppression,
becomes at once liable to abuse when it is formiilated and
discussed. The act of 1287 gave an unlimited licence to
disorder, which could always disguise itself under the
pretence of defending liberty. Until it was repealed
ARAOON, 1213-I
479]
iS P A I N
323
there was always a danger that the constitution would
euccumb, not to the tyrannical usurpations of the crown,
but to the selfish interests of tlie nobles.
On the death of Alfonso III. the crown passed to his
'brother James II. (1291-1327). The new king handed
over Sicily to his younger brother Frederick, thus creating
a separate dynasty in that island. In the hope of
depressing the greater barons, Jaoies II. strengthened the
hands of the justiciar and sought to conciliate the clergy
and citizens to the crown. By these steps he succeeded in
avoiding any open conflict dunng his reign, and at the
same time he sought to secure e.xternal unity by an edict
which declared the three piovinces of Aragon, Catalonia,
and Valencia to bo for ever indivisible (1319). But his
successor, Alfonso IV. (13:'.7-133G), did not hesitate to
break this edict, in spirit if not in letter, by carving out
great fiefs for his second wife, Eleanor of Castile, and her
children. By this measiire he gave rise to the difiiculties,
f^' and indirectly to the triumphs, of his son, Pedro IV.
"■ (1336-1387). Pedro's feign is a great epoch in Aragonese
history, as to him is due the arrest of the tendencies which
threatened to divide and destroy the kingdom. He began
by recalling his fathei-'s excessive grants to his stepmother
and his half-brothere The intervention of Alfonso XL of^
Castile on behalf of his sister failed to make any impres-
Blon upon the king, and it was only the pressing danger
from the ijoors, frhich was removed in 1340 by the
Castilian victory on the Salado, that induced him at last
to consent to a compromise. ' The same desire to unite
all the possessions of the Aragonese crown is apparent
in his treatment of the king of Majorca, James II., the
descendant of James I.'s younger son, who had received
froQ^ his father the Balearic Islands with Roussillon and
Cerdagne as a vassal kingdom. As James II. showed
inclination to evade his legal duties towards his suzerain,
Pedrg seized the first opportunity to pick a quarrel with
him. In 1344 all the territories of the king of Majorca
were declared to be united to Aragon ; and, though James
U. made' an obstinate resistance, he met with little sup-
port from his former subjects, and the hopeless struggle
■was ended by his death in 1348.
These high-handed measures not unnaturauy excited the
misgivings of the nobles of Aragon, whose privileges were
not likely to be very scrupulously respected by a prince
■with such an obvious sense of his own rights and duties.
In 1347 chance gave them an eminent and capable leader.
There was no law against female succession in Aragon, and
there Tras the precedent of Queen Petroniila in its favour.
On the other hand, there was a strong prejudice against it,
and as a rule preference had been given to males, although
further removed from the direct line. Pedro IV. had an
only daughter, Constance, and he was eager to secure the
succession to her in preference to his brother James, who
was popularly regarded as the heir to the throne. This
unconcealed intention excited the indignation of James,
who was already discontented at the harsh treatment of
the king of Majorca. He had no difliculty in inducing
most of the chief nobles, including his half-brothers, to
form a " Union," which was also joined by several of the
towns in their discontent at the projected settlement of
flio succession (1347).t. Pedro was taken by surprise and
could only gain time by concessions. Uc promised to
convoke annual meetings of the cortes, to choose his
councillors with the approval of the estates, to revoke his
will in favour of his daughter, and to recognize his brother
as his heir. Soon after this agreement, which loft the
Union master of the situation, James died; and men wero
not .slow in attributing his death to the iiiai-liinations of
the king. This ovent was of tie greatest advantage to
Pedro, oa it dsptived his opponents of tlioir leads'- and
from this moment the rebellion began to be split up by
jiersonal rivalries. Tlio king and his advisers were not
slow to avail themselves of the opportunity thus offered.
The opposition was strongest in Aragon and Valencia, and
Pedro succeeded in gaining over the Catalonians, who were
always prone to act in isolation from the other provinces.
With the troops thus acquired he met the army of the
Union at Epila (1348) and won a complete victory. He
followed up his success by destroying all the charters
which gave any sanction to armed resistance to the crown,
and especially the Privilege of Union of 1287. His elder
half-brother Ferdinand, who had succeeded James aa
leader of the revolt and as heir-apparent to the throne,
fled to Castile, but the chief nobles were severely punished,
and the power of the crown was raised to a height which
it had never before attained.
Thus Aragon, following the tendencies of the age,
became centralized under a powerful monarchy, and the
forces of feudal disunion received a final check. But
Pedro IV. was far from establishing anything like a
despotism. While destroying the Privilege of Union, he
took a solemn oath to respect the political and personal
liberties of his subjects, and enjoined the same oath upon
his successors. At the same time he strengthened the
powers of the justiciar, whose pre-eminence dates from
this reign. The position of the king was immensely
strengthened by the birth of a son, which destroyed the
claims of his half-brothers. The later part of his reign
was occupied with a war against Henry II. of Castile,
which has been referred to above, and with resistance to
James III. of Majorca, who made an unsuccessful effort to
recover the territories of his father. Pedro concluded a
second marriage with Sibilla, daughter of a Catalonian
knight, and her influence involved him in a quarrel with
his eldest son, whom he attempted to deprive of the oflice
of lieutenant-general, which custom as.signed to the heir
to the throne. But he found that the authority of the
justiciar was now strong enough to restrain the cro'wn as
well as the nobles. Dominic do Cerda, who now held the
oflSce, pronounced that the infant was legally entitled to
the dignity from which he had been ousted, and compelled
the king to restore hira. The brief reign of John I. John L
(1387-1395) was mainly occupied with wars in Sicily and
Sardinia. The expense which these involved, which was
increased by the luxury of a magnificent court, excited the
most lively discontent on the part of the cortes. The
remonstrances of his subjects were resented by the kipg,
but they were backed up by the authority of the justiciar,
and John I. gave way so far as to banish the unpopular
favourites from the court." On the king's death his
daughters were passed over, and the crown was transferred
to his brother Martin, who was occupied in restoring the Martin
Aragonese supremacy in Sicily. Under Martin a private
war between the great families of Urrea and Luna was put
down, and the dependence of the great nobles •n-as more
firmly secured. But the death in 1409 of the king's only
son, Martin the younger, brought the kingdom face to
face with the difliculty of a disputed .succession. There
wero two male claimants,— the count of Urgel, a great-
grandson of Alfonso IV., and the duke of Gaudia, a
grandson of James IL The former was the undoubted
heir if the succession was absolutely limited to males,
while the latter was advanced in years and could only
bring forward the uld contention of nearness to the royal
stock. But, allhou^di precedent was in favou-- of the
exclusion of females," there was no definite rule to prevent
the succession of their male descendants. Of such
claimants there were two,— Louis of Calabria, the son of
.lulin I.'s daughter Violantc, nnd Kordiuand, infant of
Castile, the son of Jlartin's sister Eleanor. Moreover.
324
SPAIN
1.HIST0EY.
Martin the younger had left an illegitimate son, Frederick,
count of Luna, and if the question had arisen a century
earlier, before the clergy had obtained so much power. It
is probable that his claims would have been preferred.
The question was still unsettled on the death of the elder
Martin in 1410, with whom ended the male line of the
counts of Barcelona. A prolonged civil war seemed
inevitable, and for two years the kingdom endured the
evils of an interregnum. If the dispute was to be settled
by force of arms, the count of Urgel seemed likely to
carry all before him, as he bad the pretty unanimous
support both of the Catalans and of the powerful family
of Luna. But his followers, confident in their superiority,
allowed- themselves to indulge in &, ';3 of violence which
alienated the more orderly part of the population. The
justiciar, Juan de Cerda, who had acted with such
impartial firmness in the reign of John I., succeeded in
forming a patriotic party which determined to settle the
dispute by a legal decision. Jealousy of the De Lunas
gave to this party the support of the rival house of Urrea.
They succeeded in procuring the appointment of a joint
commission of nine members, — three from the cortes of each
province. After a careful examination of all the claims,
the commissioners decided, on what principle it is difficult
ferdinand to determine, in favour of the infant Ferdinand, who was
then acting as regent of Castile for his nephew John IL
(1412). As far as ability and merit went, the choice was
probably the best that could have been made. By mingled
firmness and concession Ferdinand succeeded in restoring
order and unity to the kingdom and its dependencies. A
revolt headed by the disappointed count of Urgel in the
nexj year was suppressed, and its leader was punished
with the confiscation of his. territories and perpetual
imprisonment.
Thus the house of Trastamara succeeded in obtaining
', the crown of Aragon as well as that of Castile. Ferdinand
1., the first king of the new dynasty, did not live long to
wield the sceptre which he had so fortunately acquired.
Alfonso On his death in 1416 the crown passed to his son Alfonso
V. (1416-1458). The new prince played little part in
Aragonese histoiy, as his attention was almost wholly
absorbed in the affairs of Italy. To his inherited posses-
sions of Sicily amd Sardinia he added the kingdom of
Naples after a seven years' contest with the Angevin
claimant, Ren6 le Bon of Provence (1435-1442). From
this time he never quitted his new kingdom, where his
politic rule and his patronage of literature acquired for
him the name of "The Slagnanimous." During his
absence the government of Aragon was entrusted to his
brother John, as lieutenant-general. The arbitrary char-
acter of this prince, which is so clearly visible in his
subsequent history, seems to have been foreseen by his
subjects. In order to secure the justiciar from undue
influence on tlie part of the crown, a law was made in
1442 that the office should be held for life, and that its
occupant could only be dismissed by the king with the
express approval of the cortes. In 1461 this provision
was followed up by another law which directed that all
complaints against the justiciar should be heard before a
commission regularly chosen from the four estates.
The history of John, both as regent for his brother and
later as king in his own right, centres round the family
quarrels which finally led to a formidable rebellion against
him. His first wife was Blanche, vridow of Martin of
Sicily and heiress of Navarre. This little kingdom, which
comprised territory on both sides of the Pyrenees, had
been more closely connected with France than with Spain
since its separation from Aragon on the death of Alfonso
I. (1134). In the 13th century it was united to the
french crown bj the marriage of Jeanne of Navarre with
the French king, Philip IV., but it again became
independent on the death of Louis X. in 1315. His
daughter Jeanne was the undoubted heiress of Navarre,
and, though she was kept out of her rights by her uncles,
Philip v. and Charles IV., she was allowed to succeed
after their death.' In 1329 she was crowned at Pamplona
with her husband, Philip of Evreux. Her son, Charles
the Bad (1349-1387), obtained an unenviable notoriety
for the part which he played in French history during
the troublous period of the English wars. His son, Charles
III. (1387-1425), was a peace-loving prince, who devoted
more attention to art and literature than to politics. The
marriage of his daughter Blanche with John of Aragon
brought the mountain-kingdom once more into close
connexion with the western peninsula. By her marriage
contract, Navarre was to pass on her death to her children
and not to her husband.. Dut a later agreement enjoined
her son, before assumini, the sovereignty, to obtain " the
goodwill and approbation of his father." When Blanche
died in 1442, John seems to have considered that this
later stipulation justified him in retaining the title of king
of Navarre, though he entrusted the administration of the
kingdom to his son, Charles of Viana. For some time no
difficulty was made about this arrangement. But in 1447
John married a second wife, Joanna Henriquez, a de-
scendant of the royal family of Castile, and a few years
later he sent Joanna to share the government of Navarro
with his son. This appointment, coupled with the
arrogant conduct of his stepmother, was regarded as an
insult by Charles of Viana, who was not slow to remember
that by right he was entitled to the crown. The olij
parties of Navarre, the Beaumonts and Agramonts, seized
the opportunity to renew their feuds, — the former espous-
ing the cause of the prince, the latter that of the queen.
Before long the dispute developed into civil war, and John
marched into Navarre to assist his wife, who was besieged
in Estella by her stepson. At Aybar the hostile forces
met in open conflict, but the superior discipline of the
royal troops gave them a complete victory, and Charles
fell a prisoner into his father's hands (1452). The prince
was released after a short imprisonment, but the recon-
ciliation was only a hollowjone. The birth of a son to;
Joanna Henriquez (1452), afterwards famous as Ferdinand
the Catholic, was a serious blow to the interests of the
elder son. The queen scarcely concealed her desire to
secure the succession to her own child, and her influence
over her husband was unbounded. Charles found that
his defeat had given the supremacy in Navarre to the
hostile party, and after a vain attempt to recover his
power he went to Naples to appeal to his uncle Alfonso
V. But his hopes in this quarter were destroyed by
Alfonso's death in 1458. Of his possessions, Aragon,
Sicily, and Sardinia passed to his brother John IL, wh^ile
Naples, as a private acquisition of his own, was bequeathed
to his natural son Ferdinand. The Neapolitan barons,
dreading the gloomy and tyrannical character of their new,
ruler, offered to support Charles of Viana as ^ candidate
for the throne, but he refused to oppose his cousin, and
retired to Sicily, where he spent the next two years in
seclusion. In 1460 he was induced to return by tha
solicitations of his father, who seems to have been dis-
quieted by the popularity which the prince had obtained
among the Sicilians. The intrigues of Joanna were not
long in exciting the old mistrust between father and son,'
and her hostility towards Charles, was increased by his
attempts to obtain the hand of Isabella of Castile, whom
she had already fixed upon as a suitable bride for her owq
son Ferdinand. In 1461 Charles was induced to meet
his father at Lerida, and was at once imprisoned. When
asked about the cause of this arbitrary proceeding, Jobo
ARAOOX, 1213-1479]
SPAIN
325
only replied with obscure hints at a conspiracy. . But liis
subjects were not prepared to acquiesce in this unnatural
treatment of a prince whom they had learned to love and
whom they regarded as their future ruler. The Catalans,
always easily moved, rose in arms and marched upon
Lerida, and it was only by a hasty retreat that John was
able to escape with his court to Saragossa. But the
revolt speedily spread from Catalonia to the other pro-
vinces, and even to Sicily and Sardinia, while it found
supporters in the king of Castile and in the faction of the
Beaumonts in Navarre. Surrounded by enemies, John
II. found it necessary to yield. He not only released his
son, professing that he did so at his wife's request, but
appointed hira lieutenant-general of Catalonia and pro-
mised not to enter that province without the permission
of the cortes. But no sooner had Charles of Yiana
rejjained his liberty than he died, on September 23, 1461 ;
and the circumstances led ready credence to be given to the
suspicion that he had been poisoned during his captivity.
The crown of Navarre now devolved by right upon
Charles's elder sister Blanche, who had been married to
and afterwards repudiated by Henry IV. of Castile. But
she Iiad incurred Iter father's enmity by the support which
she had given to her brother ; and John ll. was not
unwilling to curry favour with France by securing Navarre
to his second daughter Eleanor of Foix, whose son Gaston
had married a sister of Louis XI. The unfortunate
Blanche was committed to the guardianship of her
younger sister, and after two years of imprisonment in the
<:astle of Ortiiez she died of poison. But Eleanor reaped
little advantage from the crime which all historians impute
to her. Her father retained the crown of Navarre till his
death, and she only survived him a few weeks. She was
succeeded by her grandson Francis Phoabus, but he only
lived for four years, and his sister and- heiress Catherine
brought the crown of Navarre by her marriage to the
French house of D'Albret, from which it was wrested by
Ferdinand the Catholic in 1512. This third union with
Aragon proved permanent, although the district north of
the Pyrenees was subsequently annexed to France.
Meanwhile the troubles of John II. were by no means
removed by his son's death. In Aragon the young Fer-
dinand was acknowledged as heir, and was then sent with.
his mother to Catalonia to receive the oath of allegiance
from that province. But the Catalans rose again in rebel-
lion, and besieged Joanna and her son in the fortress of
Gerona. As John II. was unable to advance through the
revolted province to his wife's relief, he purchased the
assistance of Louis XI. by a promise of 200,000 gold
crowns, as security for which he pledged the counties of
Roussillon and Cerdagne (1462). The Catalans replied to
this alliance by throwing off their allegiance to John and
proclaiming a republic. As, however, Gerona was relieved
by the French, and the royal troops succeeded in reducing
several of the chief towns, they determined to appeal for
foreign aid. The crown was offered first to Henry IV. of
Castile and then to the constable of Portugal, who was
descended from the old counts of Barcelona. On the
death of the latter in 14 06 the rebels turned to the tradi-
tional rivals of the house of Aragon, and offered the crown
to I{,cn6 le Bon, the head of the Angevin house. Rcn6,
whose life had been spent in putting forward claims which
ho had never been able to enforce, accepted the offer and
sent his chivalrous son John of Calabria to assist the
Catalans (1467). John II. 's fortunes were now at their
nadir. He had lost his eyesight, and the death of his
wife in 1468 deprived him of the companion and advi.ser
who iiad for years directed and inspired his policy. John
of Calabria, whose enterprise was secretly encouraged by
the treacherous king of France, waa steadily regaining
I much of the ground which had been lost by the Catalans
before his arrival. But the old king, whose sight was
restored by a surgical operation, fought on with a dogged
obstinacy worthy of a better cause. The death of tho
duke of Calabria in 1469 deprived his opponents of their
leader, and from this moment their ultimate defeat was
inevitable. The fall of Barcelona (1472) completed the
reduction of Catalonia. But John did not venture to
abuse the victor}' which he had so hardly won. He
granted a general amnesty, and took a solemn oath to
respect the constitution and liberties of" the conquered
province. The only notable event of the remaining j-ears
of John II. 's reign was an attempt to recover Koussillon
and Cerdagne. But Louis XI. kept a firm hold by arms
upon the provinces which his dii>lomacy had won, and they
wore only restored to Aragon in 1493 when Charles VIII.
ceded them to Ferdinand the Catholic. In 1479 the death
of John II., at the ripe age of eighty-two, transferred the
crown to his son Ferdinapd, who ten years before had con-
cluded his marriage with Isabella of Castile.
Liieratnre. — Lafueiite, Historia General de Espaila; Ortiz,
Compendia General de la Historia de £spana ; Mariana, Historia
General de Espana ; Lenibke, Schafer, and Scliirrmacher, Gcschichle
von Spanicn (down to 1295); Dozy, Histoirc des Musidmans
d'Espagnc (to 1110) ; Desormeaux, Abrigi Clironologique de
I'Hisloire d'Espagne. For tlie constitutional history the chief
books of reference are— for Castile, JIarina, Tcoria de la.': Cortes, and
Sempere, Histoirc des Cortis d'Espagne, and for Aragon, Blancas,
Coinmcnlarii Hcrum Aragonc7isium ; but a fair summary, of their
conclusions may be found in chapter iv. of Hallam"s Middle Ages
and in the introduction to Prescott's Ferdinand and Isabella. The
history of the Castilian cortes has been recently elucidated by
Don Manuel Colmeiro in his Cortes de los Antiguos Jleinos de Leon
y dc Caslilla (Madrid, 1883). The chief medieval chroniclers may
be found, though not well edited, in Florez, Espaila Sagrada, and
Scliott, -Hispania Hlustrala. (R. L.)
Section IV. — Modern History.
The history of Spain as a united state dates from the Fenlinan<
union of Castile and Aragon by the marriage of Isabella ?" u^.,
and Ferdinand. The marriage took place in 1469, before
the accession of either sovereign. In 1474 the crown of
Castile was claimed by Isabella on the death of her
brother Henry IV., whose daughter Joanna was uni-
versally believed to be illegitimate. It was contended by
the partisans of Ferdinand that female succession was
prohibited in Castile, and that he was entitled to the
crown as the nearest male heir after his father. Ulti-
mately the question was settled in Isabella's favour, and
she obtained the most important rights of sovereignty,
though the government was carried on in their joint
names. It is possible that Ferdinand would have refused
to accept this arrangement, if concerted action had not
been necessary to oppose the party which espoused the
cause of Joanna. A number of the Castilian nobles,
headed by the marquis of Villena, dreaded the danger to
the privileges of their order that might arise from tho
establishment of a strong government. They found an
ally in Alfonso V. of Portugal, who was Joanna's uncle
by the mother's side, and who cherished tho design of
obtaining tho Caiitilian throne by a marriage with his
niece. In 1470 tho confederates were routed in tho
battle of Toro, and Alfonso departed to France with tho
chimerical plan of seeking assistance from Louis XI. The
treaty of St Jean de Luz between France and Castile in
1478 ruined these hopes, and in the next year Alfonso
was compelled, by the treaty of Lisbon, to abandon the
cause of his niece. This terminated tho war of succession
in Castile ; and Joanna, known from her reputed father
as La Beltranoja, retired into a convent. A few months
before the treaty of Lisbon the death of John H. (January
20, 1479) gave to Ferdinand tho succession to Aragon,
Sicily, and Sardinia. Navarre, wliich had been brought
J26
S P A IJ^
[histoet.
to John II. by his first wife, passed to his daughter by
that marriage, Eleanor, countess of Foix. Two provinces
of tlic Aragonese crown, Eoussillon and Cerdagce, had
been pledged by John to Louis XI. of France, and were
Btill retained by that monarch. The union of Castile and
Aragon effected in 1479 was merely a personal union.
Each province retained its own institutions and its own
laws, and each would have resented the idea of absorption
in the other.
The first care of the two sovereigns vi^as to reform the
system of government, especially in Castile, where the
recent civil wars, had given rise to serious disorders. One
of their chief objects was to depress the nobles, whose
privileges, acquired during the long struggle against the
Moors, were inconsistent with a strong centralized govern-
ment. In accordance with true policy and with the
spirit of the age Ferdinand and Isabella sought to
counterbalance the nobles by relying upon the burgher
class. The Santa Hermandad, or Holy Brotherhood,
which was organized in 1476, was a popular confederation
of the whole kingdom for police and judicial purposes.
Its affairs were managed by local courts,- — from which
apiioals could be made to a supreme tribunal, — and by a
general junta composed of deputies from all cities, which
was convened once a year. A body of 2000 cavalry was
at the disposal of the association, and a special code of
laws for its guidance was compiled in 1485. The institu-
tion was completely successful in maintaining order and in
diaiinishing the independence of the local jurisdiction of
the great nobles. About the same time the lavish grants
from the royal domain, which had enriched the nobles at
the expense of the crown, were revoked, the central judicial
courts were made more efficient by the introduction of
trained lawyers, and steps were taken to codify the
numerous laws that had been made since the Siete Partidas
of Alfonso X. The grandmasterships of the great orders
of St lago, Calatrava, and Alcantara, which conferred
powers too great to be entrusted to a subject, were on
successive vacancies secured to the crown. Trade was
encouraged by protective measures, by the breaking down
of the barriers between Castile and Aragon, by a strict
reform of the currency,, and by the commutation for a
fiTpH impost of tho dptp,«tc!d ulcamla, a tax of one-tenth
upon all sales and transfer's of property.
The increased prosperi.,y of the country is well illus-
trated by the steady rise of the revenue. "In 1474, the
year of Isabella's accession, the ordinary rents of the
Castilian crown amounted to 885,000 reals ; in 1477 to
2,.390,078; in 1482, after the resumption of the royal
grants, to 12,711,591; and finally, in 1504, when the
acquisition of Granada and the domestic tranquillity of
the kingdom had encouraged the free expansion of all
its resources, to 26,283,334, or thirty times the amount
received at her accession. All this was derived from the
customary established taxes, without the imposition of a
single new one " (Prescott, ii. 575). No attack was made
upon the liberties of the subjects ; the cortes of Castile
jvere frequently convened ; the same towns were caDed
upon to send deputies ; and the only innovation was the
frequent neglect to summon the nobles. The numerous
pragmaticas, or royal ordinances, were mostly limited to
administrative matters or to the interpretation of the law.
The credit for the domestic administration rests mainly
with Isabella. Ferdinand busied himself more with military
and diplomatic affairs, and comparatively few innovations
were made in Aragon. The Hermandad was introduced,
and in some other points the example of Castile was
followed. But the advanced constitutional liberties of
Aragon were uncongenial to Ferdinand. He summoned
the cortes as rarely as possible ; and when that assembly
met he spared no pains to infli'.ence its composition and hs
decisions. The centralizing tendencies of the reign were
carried still further in both provinces in the' later period
when Ximenes, who became archbishop of Toledo in 1495,
exercised the chief influence. Five councils were entrusted
with the administration of affairs ; — the " royal council,",
the chief court of justice; the "council of the supreme"
for ecclesiastical business ; the " council of the orders " for
the greatr military fraternities ; the " council of Aragon "
for the management of that kingdom and of Naples ; and
the "council of the Indies" for the great discoveries of
Columbus and his companions.
The political unity of Spain was to be based upon its'
religious unity. Both Ferdinand and Isabella were
imbued with that stern spirit of orthodoxy with which ths
Spaniards were inspired by their long crusade against the
infidel. No institution of their reign was so important as
the Inquisition, which was authorized by a bull of Sixtus
TV. in 1478, and constituted for the two kingdoms in
1483 under the presidency of Torquemada. Its extension
to Aragon was bitterly protested against by the liberty-
loving people, but was forced iipon them by the iron will
of Ferdinand. The activity of the Holy Office was at
first directed against the Jews, whose obstinate adherence
to their faith in spite of persecution was punished by
an edict for their expulsion in 1492. Their departure
deprived Spairi of many industrious inhabitants ; but its
importance has been much exaggerated by authors who
have failed to notice that it was followed, not by the
decline of Spain, but by the period of its greatest pro-
sperity. In spite of their orthodoxy, however, Ferdinand
and Isabella were by no means slavish adherents of the
papacy. The claim of the popes to appoint to important
benefices was strenuously resisted, and the chief control of
ecclesiastical affairs was successfully vindicated for the
crown.
The steady extension of the royal power in Spain was
due in no small degree, as Machiavelli has pointed out, to
the constant succession of enterprises in which the
attention of the nobles was absorbed. These enterprises
may be summarized under three heads : — (1) the union of
the Peninsula ; (2) the extension of colonial empire : and
(3) the acquisition of foreign territories.
(1) Under the first head ihe most important achievement Unioool
was the final extinction ot' the Moorish power in Spain. *^® ^^'
The war which began in 1481 was carried on in a desultory "■^'"•■'
manner for ten years, and was completed in 1492 by the
conquest of Granada. The Moors, who had fought with
the courage of despair, received very lenient terms from
their conquerors. They were secured in the free exercise
of their religion, and were allowed to retain their own
laws, customs, and language. In' some points, such as the
trade with Africa, they obtained privileges which were not
even shared by the Castilians. But the spirit of proselyt-
isra was too strong in Spain to allow this treaty to be
observed. The measures taken by Ximenes to bring about
the conversion of the floors provoked a revolt in 1500,
which was put down with great severity. They were com-
pelled to choose between, conversion or banishment, and,
although most of them accepted the former alternative,
the Moriscoes, as they were now called, found themselves
henceforward in the hopeless position of a proscribed and
hated minority. In 1493 Ferdinand extorted from the
fears and hopes of Charles VIII. of France the restoration
of Eoussillon and Cerdagne by the treaty of Barcelona.
In 1512, after Isabella's death, he annexed Navarre. The
whole Peninsula was now united, with the exception of
Portugal, and steps had been taken for the acquisition of
that kingdom by marriage. Isabella, Ferdinand's eldest
daughter, was married to Alfonso, the son and heir of
TERDINAJID AND ISABELL\. |
SPAIN
327
John II. of Portugal. After tlic Jtath ot that ciince his
widow married Emanuel, who ouccorjcd to iho Poi tjj^ucse
crown in 1495. Isabella herself died iic ><iviug bhth to
a son, but the connexion was still maintained Ly the
marriage of, Emanuel to her younger sister Mary. Tl.o
fruits of this persistent policy were not reaped, however,
till the reign of Philip II.
(2) Maritime discovery was the task of the age, a task
forced upon it by the Turkish occupation of the Levant,
Which had closed the old commercial routes to the East.
The foremost pioneers in the work were the Portuguese
jnd Spaniards, whose efforts brought them into rivalry
f/iili each other. The treaty of Lisbon in 1-179 secured
^he western coast of Africa to Portugal, but enabled
Spain to complete the annexation of the Canaries. The
Spaniards now turned further westwards, and a wholly
new problem was created by Columbus's discovery of the
West Indies in 1492. His voyage had been undertaken
under the patronage of Isabella, and the new territories
were regarded as pertaining to Castile. To solve any
difficulties that might arise, a bull was obtained from
Alexander VI. in 1493, which granted to Spain all dis-
coveries west of an imaginary line drawn 10.0 leagues to
the west of the Azores and the Cape Verd Islands. As
this arrangement excited Portuguese discontent, it was
modified by a treaty at Tordosillas in 1494, which removed
the boundary line to 370 leagues west of the Cape A^'erd
Islands. This modification had important results for the
Portuguese, as giving them their subsequent claim to Brazil.
In the meanwhile Spain redoubled its exertions. In 1498
Columbus landed on the continent of South America, and
in a few years the whole western coast was explored by
subsequent adventurers. In 1512 Ponce de Leon dis-
covered Florida', and in the next year Balboa crossed the
Isthmus of Darien and gazed for the first time upon the
Pacific. No exertions were sparea by the Government to
encourage settlement in its new territories ; but the regu-
lations of colonial trade, and especially the provision that
it should pass through the single port of Seville, were con-
ceived in a narrow and selfish spirit which prevented the
full development of their resources.
(3) The foreign affairs of the reign, which were almost
wholly connected with Italy, were conducted by Ferdinand
on behalf of Aragon, just as the extension of the colonies
was directed for the benefit of Castile. Charles VIII. 's
invasion of Naples, wliich was ruled by an illegitimate
branch of the house of Aragon, was undertaken in the full
belief tliat the support or at least the neutrality of Spain
was secured by the treaty of Barcelona. But Ferdinand,
jealous of the rapid success of the French, seized the
first pretext to disregard the treaty, and became a member
of the league which was formed at Venice in 1495
against Charles. His troops, under the famous Gonsalvo
de Cordova, took a prominent part in restoring Ferdinand
II. to the Neapolitan throne. With the accession of
Louis XII. came a great change in Ferdinand's policy, and
he determined to advance the claim to Naples which he
himself possessed as the legitimate head of the Aragonese
bouse. By the treaty of Granada in 1500 Naples was to
bo divided between France and Spain, and the reigning
king Frederick could make no resistance to such over-
whelming forces. But a quarrel naturally arose about the
terms of the partition, and liy 1504 Gonsalvo do Cordova
succeeded in expelling the French from Naples, which was
henceforth annexed to the crown of Aragon.
In 1504 the iniity of Spain was interrupted for a
time by the death of Isabella. The successive deaths
of the infant John (1497), of Isabella of Portugal (1498),
and of hor infant son Miguel (1500) liad left the succes-
sion in Castilo to the second daurrhter, Joanna; she was
married to the archduke Philip, con of Maximilian L, and
ruler, through his mother Mary of Burgundy, of the
Netherlands and Franchi-Comte. Unfortunately Joanna,
who was the mother of two sons, Charles and Ferdinand,
had already given signs of that ijisanity which was to
cloud the whole of her subsequent career. Philip, who
had visited Spain in 1502, had then excited the distrust
of his. wife's parents, and Isabella by her will left the
regency in Castile to her husband until the majority of
their grandson Charles. But Ferdinand, in spite of his
brilliant successes, was not popular among the Castilian
nobles, who seized the opportunity to support the more
natural claims of Philip to govern on behalf of his wife.
Ferdinand showed his-disgust by actions which threatened
to undo all the previous objects of his policy. He con-
cluded a treaty with Louis XIL in 1505, by which he
undertook to marry the French king's niece, Germaine de
Foix. To her Louis resigned his claims upon Naples,
but in case of her death without issue his share in the
kingdom by the treaty of Granada was to revert to France]
Thus Ferdinand was willing to gratify his spite and to
perpetuate the division between Aragon and Castile,'
under the penalty of forfeiting his recent conquests ia
Italy. His second marriage was concluded in March
1506, and two months later he resigned the regency ia
Castile to Philip, and soon afterwards sailed to Naples.
But the division of the Peninsula was not destined to
last long. On September 25 Philip died- at the ago of
twenty-eight, and the devotion of Ximenes secured the
restoration of the regency to Ferdinand. Joanna, who
had been devotedly attached to her husband, lost all
seinblance of reason after his death, and made no attempt
to exercise any influence over the conduct of affairs. The
remaining part of Ferdinand's reign is uneventful in the
history of Spain. The government was carried on on the
same system, but with more avowed absolutism, as during
the lifetime of Isabella. Ximenes, whose energies found
insufficient occupation in the compilation of his Polyglott
Bible and in the foundation of the university of Alcala de
Henares, fitted out and headed an expedition to Oran ia
1509, which resulted in extensive but short-lived con-
quests in northern Africa. Ferdinand threw himself v>ith.
more energy than ever into the current of European poli-
tics. By joining the league of Cambray ho wrested from
Venice five important towns in Apulia which had been
pawned to the republic by Ferdinand U. As a member
of the Holy League against Franco ho succeeded in con-
quering Navarre in 1512. Navarre had, passed to the
French family of Albret by the marriage of Catharine de
Foix with Jean d'Albret, and it was the close connexion
with France which gave Ferdinand a pretext for its
invasion. In 1515 his new conquest was formally in-
corporated with the kingdom of Castile. This was Ferdi-
nand's last success ; and he died on January 23, 1516.
His will recognized Joanna as his heiress in Aragon, and
his grandson Charles as the regent in both kingdoms.
Until h:c arrival, the administration of Castile was
entrusted to Cardinal Ximenes and that of Aragon to his
own natural son, the archbishop of Saragossa.
With tho death of Ferdinand begins the period of
uninterrupted Hapsburg rule in Spain, which lasted for
nearly two centuries. In the course of this period tho
monarchy obt4uned absolute authority, and Spain, after
rising ffcr a time to be the foremost state in Europe, sank
to tho position of a second-rate power, from which it has
never since emerged. At first the condition of affairs was
by no means promising for tho crown. The unity of
Spain, which had advanced with such rapiii strides aftor
the marriage of Ferdinand and Isabella, had l>een seriously
shaken by the selfish pohoy pursued by tho king since hi*
328
SPAIN
I^HISTOEY.
wife's death. Aragon and Castile were distinct kingdoms,
and the former was again divided into the three provinces
of Aragon, Catalonia, and Valencia, each of which had its
own cortes, its own privileges, and the most warmly-
cherished traditions of independence. Classes were every-
where divided against each other, and within each class
jealousies and quarrels were frequent. The foreign
possessions of the two crowns were a source of weakness
rather than of strength. France stood ready at the
earliest opportunity to contest the possession of Navarre
with Castile, and that of Naples v/ith Aragon.
The difficulties of domestic government were increased
by the fact that the prospective ruler was a youthful
foreigner, who had never visited Spain, and who was
completely ignorant of the customs and even of the
language of the country. Charles had been born and
educated in the Netherlands, of which he had been
nominal ruler ever since the death of his father in 1506.
All his friends and advisers were Flemings, who cared
nothing for Spanish interests and had already acquired an
evil reputation for selfish greed. The first symptom of
discontent in Spain was excited by Charles's demand to be
recognized as king, in utter disregard of his unfortunate
mother. In Aragon the demand was unhesitatingly
refused, but in Castile the vigorous measures of Ximenes
secured Charles's proclamation. The regent, however, had
great difficulties to face. The nobles, delighted to be rid
of the strong government of Ferdinand, wished to utilize
the opportunity to regain the privileges and independence
they had lost. In this crisis the loyal devotion of Ximenes
saved the monarchy. Throwing himself upon the support
of the citizen class, he organized a militia which overawed
the nobles and maintained order. A French invasion of
Navarre was repulsed, and to avoid any danger from the
discontent of the inhabitants all the fortresses of the pro-
vince, with the single exception of Pamplona, were dis-
mantled. These distinguished services were rewarded with
more than royal ingratitude by Charles, who came to Spain
in 1517, and who allowed the aged cardinal to die on
November 8 without even granting him an interview.
The young king soon felt the loss of so able and experi-
enced an adviser. His Flemish ministers, with Chievres
at their head, regarded Spain as a rich booty to be
plundered at will. The Castilians, the proudest nation in
Europe, found all the places of honour and profit seized
by greedy foreigners. The cortes had shown their loyalty
by acknowledging Charles as joint-king with his mother
and by granting him an unprecedented service of 000,000
ducats. But they had accompanied their grants with
eighty-eight significant demands, which the young king
accepted but made no pretence of fulfilling. In Aragon
and Catalonia more difficulty was experienced. Nearly
two years were wasted in obtaining the recognition of the
royal title, and no supplies were forthcoming. Valencia
was not visited at all, and the attempt to induce the
people to do homage to a viceroy was a failure. A civil
war broke out in the province between the privileged
nobles and a germandada, or brotherhood, of the burgher
class. The Government exasperated parties by supporting
each in turn, but ultimately threw in its lot with the
nobles.
Meanwhile the death of Maximilian had given Charles
the succession to the considerable Hapsburg territories in
Germany, and in 1519 the German electors had chosen
him to be king of the Komans. He was now the first
prince in Europe ; and it was necessary for him to leave
Spain to look after his interests in Germany and to
cement there alliances which he needed against the inevit-
able hostility of France. But his elevation by no means
increased his pooularity in Castile. The C?,stiliaus had
already plenty of grounds for complaint in the rapacity
of the Flemings and in Charles's failure to perform his
promises to the cortes. But these were as nothing com-
pared with the prospect that Castile might no longer be
the primary state of their king, and that their revenues
might be employed in the attainment of objects in which
they had not the slightest interest. While opinions were
thus excited, Charles, who had been reduced to great
straits by his military preparations and his promises to
the German electors, summoned the cortes to meet at
Santiago (Compostella) in Galicia, and thence transferred
them to Corufia in order to embark as soon as he bad
obtained the supplies he needed. The place of meeting
was carefully chosen so as to isolate the assembly and to '
expose it to royal influence or intimidation. The lead of
the opposition was taken by Toledo, which refused to
send its two deputies, as being too favourable to the
crown, but sent other representatives to remonstrate with
Charles and to encourage the other cities. They were
driven from Coruna, and the deputies of Salamanca were
excluded from the cortes. By these and similar means
the desired grant was extorted. Charles hastened to quit
Spain with the first favourable wind, leaving Adrian of
Utrecht as regent in Castile, and two native nobles in
Aragon and Catalonia. His departure was really neces-
sary for his other interests ; but it must have seemed
reckless to the Spaniards at a time when Valencia was in
the flames of civil war and Castile was on the verge of
rebellion. Before starting he had ordered the removal of
the magistrates of Toledo, and had sent a new governor
to reduce the city to obedience. The citizens, headed by Rising o
a young noble, Juan de Padilla, resisted this order and ^y^°™°
raised the standard of insurrection. Other cities hastened
to join the movement, and a central committee, known as
the " Holy Junta," established itself at Avila. The unfor-
tunate regent, a churchman of distinguished piety and
gentle character, found himself face to face with difficul-
ties that would have taxed all the resources of Ximenes.
His attempt to reduce Segovia by arms was a lamentable
failure, and he had to confess his utter defeat by disband-
ing his forces. The nobles, alienated by the appointment
of a foreigner to the regency, made no attempt to check
a movement against a Government they detested. The
insurgents had matters their own way, and Padilla,
advancing to Tordesillas, made himself rjaster of the
person of Joanna, in whose name it was intended to con-
duct the government. But this move was less advan-
tageous than it at first appeared. Joanna refused to
transact any business or to sign any document, and this
public proof of her incapacity served to justify Charles's
contention that he was the only possible ruler. The
Castilians were not prepared to get rid of the monarchy,
so that it was necessary for the rebels to consider the
possibility of coming to terms with Charles. The "Holy
Junta," which had moved from Avila to Tordesillas, drew
up a series of demands, which, if acceded to, would have
established a constitutional monarchy in Spain. But their
envoys to Germany found it impossible even to secure an
audience from the king, and meanwhile the failure of the
insurrection Avas decided. The very ease with which the
rebels had triumphed proved an evil, because it encouraged
internal dissensions which opposition might have healed.
Especially Burgos showed its jealousy of the leading
position which had been assumed by Toledo. Class
differences, the bane of every country in the Middle Ages,
supplied the final stumbling-block. Many of the demands
of the communes were diametrically opposed to the
interests of the nobles, whose eyes were at last opened to
the danger of their attitude of neutrality. Their chief
grievauee had been removed by Charles's appointment of
CHARLES I.]
SPAIN
329
the admiral and constable of Castile as jointr«gents with
Adrian. An army was raised, and on the field of Villalar
the forces of the communes were utterly defeated (April
23, 1522). Padilla, who had shown mora enthusiasm
than ability, was executed, and one city after another was
reduced to submission. A portion of the victorious army
was sent to the assistance of the nobles in Valencia, where
the germandada was at last crushed. The return of
Charles to Spain in June 1522 completed the triumph of
the monarchy. In 1523 he convened the Castilian cortes,
and compelled them to grant supplies before presenting
their petitions for redress, thus establishing a precedent
which was conclusive for the future.
. Charles's reign belongs to the history of Europe rather
than to that of Spain, and has been sufficiently treated else-
where (see Charles V.). His enormous inheritance was
increased by the successes of Cortes in Mexico and of Pizarro
in Peru, by his own annexation of the JMilaneso, and by his
conquests in northern Africa. In the government of this
vast empire Spain played an important but on the whole
a subordinate part. Its soldiers and its subsidies were
Charles's most effective weapons, and to render them more
readily available it was necessary to depress still further
the liberties of the country. The independence of the
towns had been crushed at Villalar, but only by the
intervention of the nobles ; and these had now to pay the
penalty of their selfish lo3-alty. In 1538, after Charles
had for a time concluded his struggle with France by the
truce of Nice, he proposed to raise supplies in Castile by
an excise upon commodities. The nobles objected on the
ground of their exemption from taxation, and the emperor
had to give way. JBut he took his revenge by excluding
them altogether from the cortes, which henceforth consisted
only of thirty-six deputies from eighteen towns, a body
that was powerless to oppose the wishes of the crown. ■
The vast enterprises in which Charles was involved ex-
hausted his energies, and the failure of his policy .in Ger-
many reduced him to despair. In 1555-56 he resigned all
his dignities, and ended his life in 1558 in retirement at
Yuste. From this time the house of Hapsburg is divided
into the two branches of Spain and Austria. Charles's
brother Ferdinand became king of the Romans and
obtained the German territories of the family, to which he
had added the crowns of Bohemia and Hungary. Philip
11, Charles's only legitimate son, succeeded to the Spanish
and Burgundian inheritance, with the addition of Milan.
Philip II., like his father, played a great part in European
history (see Philip II.), hwX with this important differ^
ence that Castile was definitely the central point of his
monarchy, and that his policy was absolutely directed by
Spanish interests. In character and education he was a
Spaniard of the Spaniards, and after 1559 he never quitted
Spain. He gave the country a capital, which it had
never yet possessed, by fixing his residence at Madrid.
Castile, under the direct supervision of the king, was sub-
jected to the most crushing despotism. Aragon, Catalonia,
»nd Valencia were governed as mere provinces, in the
same manner as Jlilan, Naples, and Sicily. The con-
tinuance of the old divisions of the country, while it
lessened its strength, was an immense advantage to the
royal power. It was easy for the king to emj)loy the
forces of one province to crush the liberties of the others.
And Philip possessed a formidable weapon in the Inquisi-
tion, which ho did not Ecrui)lc to use for secular purposes.
Political independence was crushed with the same relent-
less severity as religious dissent. Ilitlierto Aragon had
preserved its niedia;val privileges almost intact. The
king was not entitled to tho allegianca of tho province
until ho had solemnly sworn to observe its " fueros." For
the decisions of tho cortes unanimity was required, so
that each deputy had a practical right of veto. The
authority of the justiciar rivalled that of the crown. It
was natural that Philip should seize the first opportunity
of attacking institutions which could thwart his wiU. In
1590 Antonio Perez (see Perez), a minister who had
incurred the king's displeasure, fled to Aragon and appealed
to its fueros for protection. Philip had him brought
before the Inquisition, and when the people rose in
defence of their liberties they were crushed by troops
from Castile. The justiciar was put to death, and his
successors became nominees of the crown. The cortes
were assembled in 1591 at Tarragona, and compelled to
abolish the most obnoxious fueros. Their control over
the judicial administration was abrogated, and the
necessity of unanimity was only retained in certain
specified cases, notably the granting of .jupplies. To
avoid any danger from the few privileges that were left, a
citadel was built in Saragossa for the reception of a royal
garrison. The creation of a regular standing army com-
pleted the edifice of absolutism, while the militia which
had been established by Ximenes was retained and
extended for the suppression of local disorders.
Philip's internal administration was everywhere success-
ful in obtaining the objects which he set before himself.
A rising of the Moors in the Alpujarras was crushed by
the military ability of his famous half-bro.thcr, Don John
of Austria. In 1580 a claim to the crown of Portugal,
w-hich Philip derived from his mother, was successfully
asserted. Thus the unit_, ^. the Peninsula was at last
completed, while the colonial territories of Spain were
immensely extsnded. Unfortunately, no attempt was
made to conciliate the Portuguese to their new ruler.
The kingdom was treated as a conquered province ; all
who had resisted the Spanish invasion were punished as
traitors ; the native nobles were excluded from all share in
the government, which was entrusted solely to Spaniards ;
the commerce of the country was ruined by provisions
which conferred a practical monopoly upon Spain. The
result of this short-sighted policy was that the Portuguese
stifled their discontent, and eagerly awaited the first opening
for the recovery of their independence.
Outside Spain Philip's policy proved a complete failure.
His religious intolerance excited the revolt of the Nether-
lands, which ended in the loss of the seven northern
provinces. His grand schemes against England were
utterly ruined by the destruction of the Spanish Armada.
And, finally, his endeavour to establish a preponderant
Spanish influence over Franco was foiled by the accession
and triumph of Henry IV. The treaty of Vervins, by
which he acknowledged his humiliating defeat, was
almost tho last act of Philip II. 's reign, which ended with
his death on September 13, 1598.
Philip II. left to his son and successor, Philip III., an
empire which was nominally undiminished, as the inde-
pendence of the United Provinces had never been recog-
nized, and the war for their reduction was still going on.
But tho unwieldy mass was suffering from internal
exhaustion. Tho resources of Spain and the New World
had been squandered in the prosecution of schemes of
ambition which had ended in failure. The attention of
the people had been distracted from peaceful industry to
the unprofitable occupation of wai-. The soldiery of
Spain, once reckoned invincible, had lost their prestige in
the marshes of Holland. The enormous taxes, from which
nobles and clergy were exempted, fell with ruinous severity
upon the productive classes. Castile had suffered most,
because it was most completely subject. Tho provinces
which retained their liberties longest were more prosperous,
even though they had no share in the riches that were
jjoured into Castile from tho western cnlnnics. But they.
330
SPAIN
[histoet.
too, had suffered from the king's .reckless ambition and
from an economic policy which followed the most glaring
errors of the Middle Ages. Every other consideration
had been sacrificed to the accumulation of specie, with
the result that prices were forced up to an abnormal
height, while the wealth of the country bore no proportion
to the currency. The nobles were carefully ' excluded
from all political affairs and ceased to take the slightest
interest in the administration. When this exclusion came
to an end after Philip II. 's death, they appear as mere
courtiers, rivalling each other in the extravagance of their
expenditure, but contributing nothing to the efficiency of
the state. The government bad been centralized by suc-
cessive kings, but it was carried on without either wisdom
or impartiality. The administration of justice was venal
and incompetent. The people had been deprived of their
liberties, but they failed to receive compensation in increased
order and security. Spain had to pay dearly for its short
period of glory. Its rapid decline in the 17th century was
the inevitable penalty for the faults and errors of the 16th.
Philip " God," said Philip II., " who has been gracious in
III.- giving me so many states, has not given me an heir
capable of governing them." His successor was the
natural product of his father's system : the exhaustion of
Spain was inevitably accompanied by the degeneracy of
its rulers. Philip III., who was twenty-one years old at
his accession, had been brought up among priests and
women, and showed all the defects of his education.
Spanish writers are never weary of dilating upon his piety
and his devotion. The cares of government he left entirely
to his favourite, the duke of Lerma, while he contented
himself with the performance of religious duties and the
ceremonies of a stately court. The change of rulers was
significantly marked in a quarrel with the province of
Biscay, which still retained its ancient privileges intact.
An attempt was made in 1601 to impose new duties by a
royal ordinance; the Biscayan deputies protested vigorously
against this encroachment upon their liberties, and openly
threatened to seek another ruler. Philip III. hastened to
avert the storm by withdrawing the obnoxious ordinance.
Thus the policy of centralization was abandoned, and the
tendencies to division and isolation were confirmed.
The The piety of Philip III., which was as disastrous to
Moors Spain as the more m.asculine bigotry of his predecessors,
Mpelled fQm](j characteristic expression in the persecution of the
Spain Moriscoes. Ever since the suppression of their first revolt
in 1502,— a revolt which was provoked by the breach of
the compact made on the fall of Granada, — the conquered
Moors had been cruelly oppressed. Charles V. renewed
the edict of 1502 in 1526, and the overt profession of
Mohammedanism was extinguished in Spain. But in
secret they continued to cherish the faith of their
a,ncestors, and this was enough to exasperate a monarch
who preferred to have no subjects at all rather than to
rule over heretics. An edict of Philip II. in 1566 forbade
them to speak or write in Arabic, and ordered them to
renounce all their traditional habits and ceremonies.
Futile remonstrances were followed by a desperate rising,
which was quelled in 1570. The most obstinate of the
rebels were exiled to Africa, but most of them sullenly
ubmitted. Philip III. determined to prove his zeal for
orthodoxy by completing the work which his father had
left unfinished. In 1609 all the Moriscoes were ordered
to depart from the Peninsula within three days, and the
penalty of death was decreed against all who failed to
obey, and against any Christians who should shelter the
recalcitrant. The edict was obeyed, but it was the ruin
of Spain. The Moriscoes were the backbone of the
industrial population, not only in trade and manufactures,
but also in agriculture. The haughty and indolent
Spaniards had willingly left what they considered degraf
ing employments to their inferiors. 'The Moors had intro-
duced into Spain the cultivation of sugar, cotton, rice,
and silk. They had established a system of irrigation
which had given fertility to the soil. The province of
Valencia in their hands had become a model of agricul-
ture to the rest of Europe. In manufactures and com-
merce they had shown equal superiority to the Christian
inhabitants, and many of the products of Spain were
eagerly sought for by other countries. All these advanti
ages were sacrificed to an insane desire for religious
unity.
The .esourcSs of Spain, already exhausted, never
recovered from this terrible blow. Under these circum^
stances it was an absolute necessity that the ambitious
schemes of previous rulers should be abandoned ; and it
was fortunate that Lerma was personally inclined to a
policy of peace and that events occurred to favour its
adoption. The accession of James I. in England gave a
convenient opportunity for concluding the long war that
had been carried on with Elizabeth. English mediation
brought about a twelve years' truce in 1609 with "the
United Provinces, which amounted to a practical recogni-
tion of their independence. The death of Henry TV. and
the regency of Mary de' Medici enabled Lerma to arrange
an alliance with France, which was cemented by a double
marriage. Louis XIII. married the infanta Anne of
Austria, and Elizabeth of France was betrothed to the son
and heir of Philip III. For the moment Spain occupied
a higher position in Europe than it had held since the
defeat of the Armada. James I. was weakened by
quarrels with his parliament and by the want of a definite
policy. France under the regency had abandoned the
attitude of Henry IV. and was distracted by internal
squabbles. The empire was in the feeble hands of
Mathias, and the Austrian Hapsburgs were still divided
by the family jealousies that had arisen from the deposi-
tion of Rudolph II. The Turks had declined since the
days of Soliman the Magnificent with a rapidity char-
acteristic of Oriental powers. In the midst of these
states Spain, subject to an apparently absolute monarchy,
enjoyed much the same prestige as in the best days of
Philip II. With the consciousness of power the old
ambitions revived. An arrangement was being discussed
for the recognition of the archduke Ferdinand as the
successor of Mathias in the Austrian territories. Philip
III., however, advanced a claim to Hungary and Bohemia
on the ground that his mother was a daughter of
Maximilian II., whereas Ferdinand was only descended
from that emperor's brother. The claim was by no means
indisputable, but it was inconvenient to Ferdinand to
have to discuss it. He agreed therefore to purchase the
support of Spain by ceding Alsace, and the vacant imperial
fief of Finale in Italy (1617), and on these terms he
succeeded in effecting his designs. Thus a prospect was
opened to Spain of connecting its Italian possessions with
the Netherlands and of forming a compact Spanish
dominion in central Europe. At the same time the old
policy of advancing Eomari Catholicism was resumed, as
the success of Ferdinand promised to secure a signal
victory for the Counter-Reformation in Germany. But
this forward policy was distasteful to Lerma, who found
it necessary to retire in 1618. His withdrawal from
affairs was not accompanied by any loss of the royal
favour, and the offices which he had held were conferred
upon his son, the duke of Uzeda.
The alliance between the two brancnes.of the house of
Hapsburg was not finally completed by the arrangement
with Ferdinand. It was vigorously urged by Onate, the
Spanish representative at Vienna, by Khavenhiiller, ftia
tHiLir m. AN-T> IV.]
SPAIN
331
Austrian envoy at Jfadiid. and by the Spanish |iai'ty,
headed by Zufiiga, •wliich had always opposed tho policy
of Lerma. But neither Uzeda nor the royal confessor
Aliaga was in favour of an alliance by which Spanish
blood and treasure were, to be expended in securing the
interests of Austria. Philip III., however, was gained
over by an appeal to his religious feelings, and in January
IG20 he Undertook to .send assistance in men and money
to Ferdinand II. Thus Spain was involved in the
Thirty Years' War, which had been commenced in 1G18
by the revolt of Bohemia against Ferdinand, and the
acceptance of the crown by the elector-palatine Frederick
V. Spanish troops from Italy aided Tilly to win the
battle of the White Hill, and Spiuola led an army from
the Netherlands against the Palatinate. But the party of
peace was still strong in Spain. Frederick V. was the
6on-in-law of James I., and his complete humiliation would
binder the long-cherished project of a marriage between
Prince Charles and the Spanish infanta. The truce with
Holland would expire in April 1621, and if the war was
to be resumed with the Dutch it was essential to isolate
them by concluding the alliance with England. Moreover,
the finances of Spain were by no means in a condition to
support the extraordinary expenses of a European war.
'All these considerations pointed to peace, and Philip
III. was on the point of recalling Lerma, when he died
in March 1621. His reign had not been glorious or'
advantageous to Spain, but it contrasts favourably with
those of his successors. Spanish literature and art, which
had received a great impulse from the intercourse with
foreign countries under previous rulers, reached their
zenith during his lifetime. Three writers have obtained
European fame — Cervantes, who i)roduced the immortal
Don Quixote between 1G05 and 1613, and two of the
most fertile of romantic dramatists, Lope dfe Vega and
Calderon. In the domain of art Spain produced two of
the greatest masters of the 17th century, Velazquez and
Murillo.
The time which Philip III. had spent on his devotions
was .given by his successor to the more secular pleasures
of hunting and the theatre. But Philip TK. shared to the
full his father's disinclination to burden himself with the
cares of government. The oflico cf first minister was
given to Zuniga, the chief advocate of an aggressive
policy in the late reign. Lerma and Uzeda were banished
from the court. But the chief mflnence over the adminis-
trati.on was exorcised from the first by the royal favourite,
the count of Olivares, who succeeded to Zuniga'-s office on
the latter's death. Olivares was a man of considerable
industry and ability, though his reputation has suffered
from the inevitable comparison with his great contem-
porary and rival, Eicheliou. He conceived the plan of
restoring Spain to its former greatness by returning to
the policy of Philip II., regardless of the change in the
internal resources of the country. All ideas of peace were
abandoned, and Spain plunged headlong into the European
struggle. The truce with 'the United Provinces was
unpopular because the commercial progress of the Dutch
■was fatal to the trade of the Spanish Netherlands, and
Amsterdam had already begun to take the place of Ant-
werp. The expiration of the truce in April 1621 was
followed by aji immediate renewal of the war. To make
the war successful it was imijcrative to secure the alliance
with England, but this was sacrificed because the cmiioror
insisted upon confiscating the Palatinate, which was
conferred upon Maximilian of Bavaria. The match with
the Spanish infanta was broken off, and Prince Charles
mariiod Henrietta Maria of France. The alienation of
i,ii!;;Iand was enough in itself to ensure the ultimate
ftiluio of tho Dutch War. Ou the mainlf ud the succes-
sive stadtliolders, ?Iaurice and Frederick Henry, held
their own oven against the experienced Spinola, and after
the latter's recall in 1629 had a distinct advantage. But
it was by sea that tho Dutch gained their most con-
spicuous successes. In 1628 the Spanish treasure-fleet
was captured by Admiral Hein, whoso booty was estimated
at seven millions of guilders. Tho greater part of Brazil,
together with Malacca, Ceylon, Java, and other islands,
were conquered by the Dutch sailors. Instead of con-
quering the northern provinces, Spain Iiad to make great
exertions to defend the frontiers of the southern Nether-
lands.
In central Europe the fortune of war was more favour-
able to Spain and her allies. Tho crushing defeat of the
elector-palatine was followed by the humiliation of the
Protestant champion. Christian IV. of Denmark. Ferdi-
nand If. enjoyed for a moment greater power than any
other successor of Charles V., and the Edict of Restitution
seemed to complete the triumph of the Catholic reaction
in Germany. But the revival of the Hapsbnrg po\>'3r
awakened the jealousy of France, which in 1024 had
fallen under tho strong rule of lUchclieu. Tho Spaniards
had occu])ied the Valtelline, an' important pa.ss which
connected Lombardy wqth Tyrol. A French army expelled
tho conquerors in 1624, and the treaty of Mon^on restored
the pass to the community of the Orisons. For a time
France was occupied with the suppression of a Huguenot
rising, but no sooner had La EochcUe fallen than Richelieu
again interfered to thwart the designs of Spain in tho
question of the JIantuan succession. The Spaniards
endeavoured to exclude the duke of Nevers, tho rightful
heir to the duchy, on account of his connexion with
France. But Richelieu forced the SpanLsh troops to raise
the siege of Casale, and ultimately extorted the treaty of
Cherasco (1631), by which the emperor recognized the
succession of tho duke of Nevers in Mantua. The
occupation of Piuerolo in this war gave the French an
opening into Italy and threatened the ascendency which
Spain had so long exercised in the Peninsula. Mean-
while the victories of Gustavus Adolphus had destroyed
tho imperial and Catholic ascendency in Germany. "The
Spaniards ■were ignominiously driven from tho positions
T.'liich they occu|)icd on the Rhine.
Tho death of Gustavus Adolphus at Liitzen inspired
the Roman Catholic powers with new hopes. Spain
determined to strain every nervo to turn the tide of
victory. Philip IV.'s brother Ferdinand, the cardinal-
archbishop of 'Toledo, was sent to raise trorps in Italy and
to lead thcra through Germany into the Netherlands. In
1634 Ferdinand efTcctod a junction' with the imperial
forces, and their combined ellbrts won a signal victory
at Nordlingon. Tho Lutheran princes, headed by John
George of Saxony, hastened to make terms wiih the
emperor in tho treaty of Prague (1635). The Swedes
wore left almost isolated in Germany, and a speedy
termination of the war seemed inevitable. At this crisis
Richelieu decided to embark in tho war as a principal,
and concluded a close alliance with the Dutch against
Spain. For two or three years the new policy of France
seemed likely to bo attended with failure. The French
troops, unaccustomed to war, were no match for th*
trained veterans of Spain. Not only were they repul.scd
from tho Netherlands, but tho cardinal infant actually
invaded Franco (1636) and inspired a i)anic in tho capital
itself. His success, however, was only temporary, and
before long the superior policy of 'Richelieu gave Franco
tho upper hand. Tho occupation of Alsace, which fell
into French hands after tho death of Bcrnhard of Saxe-
Wi'imar, interrupted tho connexion between tho I'felAer-
lands and Italy. In the latter peninsul* tho French
332
SPAIN
[histoey.
gained ground and restored the regent of Savoy, -whom the
Spaniards had expelled. Finally, more important than
all, the alliance with Holland gave France the superiority
by sea. The destruction of a great Spanish fleet in the
Downs, where it had taken refuge under the neutral flag
of England, made it almost impossible to send reinforce-
ments from Spain to Brussels. By striking at the points of
connexion, Kichelieu was breaking the unwieldy Spanish
empire to pieces. At this moment his task was immensely
facilitated by the outbreak of internal dissension.s.
Olivares had been inspired by the success of his great
'ival with the idea of strengthening Spain by a vigorous
policy of centralization. The monarchy consisted of a
number of scattered provinces, each ruled by a separate
council at Madrid, and each possessed, of its own separate
Institutions. They were held together only by the pre-
dominance of Castile and by religious unity. This system
Olivares determined to abolish by elevating the royal
power to equal absolutism in all the provinces. The
dangers from foreign enemies were to be met by forming
iSpain into one indissoluble whole. But the spirit of pro-
vincial independence was still strong, and it was artfully
encouraged by the intrigues of Richelieu, who wished to
absorb the attention of Spain in its domestic affairs. An
edict ordering all able-bodied men to arm for the war,
under penalty of confiscation, provoked a revolt in 1640
among the Catalans, who were jealously attached to their
old privileges, and whose proximity to the French frontier
had already exposed them to intolerable hardships. The
Castilian troops were driven from the province, and
Catalonia formed itself into a republic under the protection
of France. This event exerted a magical influence upon
Portugal, where Richelieu's emissaries had also been
active, and where the antipathy to Castile was national
rather .than provincial. In December 1640 a revolution
was successfully accomplished in Lisbon, and the crown
was assumed by a native noble, John of Braganza, in
whose veins ran the blood of the ancient kings. These
disasters were fatal to Olivares, to whose system of
government they were not unnaturally attributed. In
1643 he was compelled to resign his post, and Philip IV.
announced his intention of ruling alone.
The revolt of Catalonia and Portugal, together with the
Undisguised discontent shown by several of the other
provinces, could -'^lot but hamper Spain in the conduct of
the European War. The conquest of Roussillon in 1642
enabled the French to give effectual assistance to the
Catalans, who acknowledged Louis XIII. as count of
Barcelona. The successive deaths of Richelieu (1642) and
Louis Xin. (1643) made no difference to the policy of
France, which was directed by Mazarin under the regency
of Anne of Austria. The French had now completely
made up the military inferiority which had foiled their
efforts at the beginning of the war. In 1643 Enghien
(afterwards the great Cond^) won the first of a brilliant
series of victories at Rocroi, and his success was the more
important because it placed the domestic authority of the
regent upon a firm footing. The disasters of Spain were
increased by the formidable rising of !Masaniello in Naples
'(1647), which was carried on by the duke of Guise and
was suppressed with ditiiculty in 1648. This was fol-
lowed by the loss of the Austrian alliance through the
treaty of Westphalia. As it would have been impossible
for Spain to contend single-handed against the hostile
coalition, the opportunity was seized to make terms with
Holland. This was only achieved by consenting to great
^crifices. Not only did Spain surrender all claims to
sovereignty over the northern provinces, but it also ceded
to them the northern districts of Brabant, Flanders, and
^imburg with the stronc fortresses of Maestricht, Her-
togenbosch (Bois-le-Duc), Bergen-op-Zoom, and Breda. The
Dutch retained all their conquests in America and the
Indies, and secured themselves from the rivalry of Ant-
werp by a clause which enjoined the permanent closing of
the Scheldt. This marks the final recognition of the
United Provinces as an indepenSent state, and also the
transference to the northern powers of the maritime
supremacy hitherto claimed by Spain.
France and Spain were now left face to face with each
other. For the next four years the disturbances of the
Fronde gave the Spaniards a great opportunity, of which
they were not slow to avail themselves. In the Nether-
lands they recovered Gravelines, Ypres, and Dunkirk,
while Don John of Austria, a natural son of Philip IV.,
took Barcelona and reduced the Catalans to submission.
But the triumph of Mazarin in 1653 enabled France once
more to devote itself to the war, although at the same
time it drove the great Cond^ into the Spanish service.
The military operations now reduced themselves to a duel
in the Netherlands between the rival generals Condd and
Turenne. The old tactics, which were adhered to with
Spanish obstinacy, were now out of date, and the once
invincible infantry was almost useless against the quick
movements of light-armed troops which had been intro-
duced by Gustavus Adolphus. The struggle was finally
decided by the intervention of England. Both powers
had earnestly sued for the support of Cromwell. The
rapid advance of the French power was a cogent reason
for England to assist Spain, but the religious bigotry that
still prevailed at JIadrid made the alliance impossible.'
At last Mazarin gained over the Protector by promising
to banish the Stuarts from France and to cede Dunkirk.
Reinforced by 6000 Ironsides, probably the best soldiers
in Europe, Turenne was irresistible. Dunkirk was re-
duced after an obstinate defence and handed over to the
English, to the great scandal of Roman Catholic Europe.
One after another the fortresses of Flanders fell into the
hands of the French, and, though the death of Cromwell
lost them the support of England, it was impossible for
Spain to continue the war. In 1659 ^Mazarin and Don
Luis de Haro, the successor of Olivares, met on a small
island in the Bidassoa, and there arranged the treaty of
the Pyrenees. Spain had again to make great sacrifices.'
Besides Artois and several fortresses in the Netherlands,'
Roussillon and Cerdagne were ceded to France, and thus
the Pyrenees were fixed by law as the boundary between
the two countries. Louis XIV. was to marry the infanta
ilaria Theresa, who was to receive a large dowry, but was
to renounce all eventual claims to the Spanish crown.
The only concessions made by France were the pardon of
Conde, the recognition of Catalonia as a province of
Spain, and the promise to give no more assistance to the
Portuguese.
Now that Spain was freed from external hostilities, it
seemed possible that the reduction of Portugal might be
at last accomplished. But the alliance of France was
speedily replaced by that of England, and Catherine of
Braganza was married to Charles II. Louis XIV.,
too, tried to obtain from the Spanish Government an
acknowledgment of his wife's claims to the succe.s.sion,'
and failing in this he continued to send secret assistance
to the Portuguese. A French general, Schomberg,
defeated Don John of Austria in 1663, and two years
latfr routed the Spanish forces at the battle of Villa
Viciosa. This final disaster crushed the declining energies
of Philip IV., who died on September 17, 1665. As his
son Charles II. was only four years old, he bequeathed
the government to his widow Maria Anna of Austria, '
with a special junta to advise her in the conduct of
affairs. As the Spanish monarchy had declined, ita
CHARLES n.]
SPAIN
333
authority had been exercised by a series of chief ministers,
— Lerma, Olivares, and Haro, — and this was the only
way in which the unity of the executive power could now
be maintained. The favour of the queen-mother raised to
this position her confessor, Father Nitbard, a native of
Styria. Ho was a man of ability and exi)erience, and
set himself to cope with the most glaring evils of the
state. He endeavoured to dimininish the public expend-
iture by limiting the salaries of officials, and by putting
an end to the abuses which hindered the commerce with
the colonies. But he was soon called upon to face
unexpected difficulties. Louis XIV advanced a claim,
on behalf of liLs wife, to certain territories in the Nether-
lands in virtue of the so-called ''law of devolution."
This was an old custom by which the children of the first
marriage succeeded, to the exclusion of all later descendants.
As Spain resisted the claim, the French invaded Flanders
and overran Franche-Comt6. The regent was compelled
to purchase the restoration of the latter province by
ceding part of Flanders to France in the treaty of Aix- "
la-Chapelle (16G8). At the -same time the independence
of Portugal was finally acknowledged. These disasters
increased the jealousy with which the Spanish nobles
regarded the rule of a Jesuit and a foreigner. A strong
opposition party was formed under the leadership of Don
'John of Austria, and in 1G69 Nithard was compelled to
resign. But among the nobles themselves there was little
unity, and a diiference arose as to the policy to be pursued
when Louis XIV. attacked Holland in 1672. The queen-
mother was naturally on the side of Austria, and her
influence was sufficient to secure the adhesion of Spain to
the first European coalition against France. This success
she followed up by obtaining the post of chief minister
^'or another favourite, Fernando de Valenzuela, who was
appointed marquis of Villafierra and raised to the rank of
^& grandee of Spain. This revived the jealousy of the
[nobles, who again formed a league for the maintenance of
.their privileges under Don John of Austria. This time
xhey were completely successful. Not only was Valenzuela
banished, but Maria Anna herself was compelled to retire
from the court and to take up her residence in Toledo.
pon John was now all-powerful. A natural antipathy to
the policy of the regent led him to draw aloof from the
Austrian alliance and to attach himself to France. A
marriage was concluded between Charles IL and Maria
ILouisa of Orleans. It was hoped that by this means
'better terms would be obtained from Louis XIV., but in
'the treaty of Nimeguen Spain had to surrender Franche-
Clomtc and fourteen fortresses in Flanders. This treaty
'marks the complete loss by Spain of its position as a
'first-rate power. Henceforth it could only exist by the
'support of those states which resented the aggrandizement
of France. Don John was no more successful in his
domestic than in his foreign policy. His industry was as
unwearying as that of Philip II. himself, and he deter-
mined to rule independently of all interested advisers.
iThe reform from which he hoped most was a revocation of
the crown domains which had passed into private hands.
But the scheme met with natural opposition from the
nobles, and he died in 1G79 without having accomplislicd
anything. For a year Charles II. endeavoured to rule in '
person with the help of the ordinary council, but the
attempt only showed how tlie strength of the monarchy
was bound up with the personal character of the ruler.
" Charles V.," says Jlignet, " had been both peneral and
king; Philip IL was merely king, Philip IIL and Philip IV.
Lad not been kings; Charles II. was not even a man."
I'"rom infancy Charles's health had been so defective that
liis death had apiicarcd an imminent contingency, and Iiis
intellect was as feeble as his body. It was impossible for
him to exercise any effective control over the government,
and he was little more than a tool in the hands of tha
nobles, who, under Don Luis de Haro, had recovered much
of the political influence from which Olivares had excluded
them. In 1680 the office of first minister was given to
the greatest of Spanish magnates, the duke of Medina-
Celi. It was at this time that Louis Xr\'^. was conducting
his famous rhaiions, and the weakness of Spain enabled
him to annex without opposition Courtrai, Dixmude,
and the great fortress of Luxemburg. Medina-Celi, dis-
gusted with his thankless task, resigned in 1685, and
bis place was taken ' by Count Oropesa. The new
minister revived the alliance with Austria, and Spain
became a member of the league of Augsburg in 1686.
The success of the league seemed to be almost assured
by the Pevolution which gave the crow'n of England to
William III., the leader of the opposition to Louis XIV.
But in spite of apparently overwhelming odds France
more than held lior uwo, and Spain was humiliated by
the capture of Irgcl and Barcelona. Ministers held
office only at the will of court factions, and the first
disaster was ia^il to Oropesa. Spain continued to play a
secondary pai't- in the war, which was concluded in 1697
by the treaty of Eyswick, the first for many years in
which France did not obtain any addition of territory.
The chief motive for Louis XIV.'s moderation was the
desire to devote his attention to the approaching question
of the Spanish succession.
The decline of Spain in the 17th century is not to be Declin* t
measured by its territorial losses. Holland had extorted ^,P*'°-'?
a tardy recognition of its independence ; Portugal was century
once more a separate kingdom ; Catalonia was reduced
onlj' to very doubtful submission ; France had seized
upon Roussillon and Cerdagne, Franche-Comt^, and great
part of the southern Netherlands ; French influence had
been established in Italy as a counterpoise to that of
Spain. But the weakness of the extremities, to which
these facts bear conclusive testimony, was the result of
still greater weakness at the centre. The population of
the peninsula, estimated at twenty millions under the
Arabs and at twelve under Ferdinand and Isabella, had
fallen to less than six millions in the reign of Charles II.
This decrease of numbers was doubtless duo in the first
place to the religious bigotry which had condemned
thousands of Jews and Moriscoes to death or exile, but
it is partly traceable to a fatal decline in the economic
prosperity of the country. Agriculture, for which many
parts of Spain were peculiarly fitted, had suffered from
the departure of the jMoriscoes and from a number of
other causes. The want of any law of mortmain had led
to the accumulation of at least one-fourth of the land in
the hands of the monasteries, the most charitable but the
most careless and conscrvativo of landlords Thanks to
their obstinate adherence to obsolete methods of cultiva-
tion, their estates produced little more than one per cent,
on the outlay. The system of entail, which earlier
monarchs had-- striven to restrict, made enormous strides in
the 16th century, and most of the secular estates were
inalienably concentrated in the hands of a few great
nobles, who lived at ^Madrid and spent their revenues in
lavish extravagance without any regard to the interests of
their tenants. In the fertile provinces of Andalusia and
Estromadura agriculture was entirely ruined by tho
system of shccp-farming. In tho 12th century, when the
country was exposed to tho destructive forays of the
Moors, the inhabitants had been forbidden to enclose their
lands with cither hedges or diichr , and successive kings
had encouraged the rearing of hu^;o flocks of sheep which
could easily bo driven over the open country info a place
of safety. In the IGth and 17tli centuries tho condition
334
SPAIN
[history.
of things had entirely changed, but the old regulations
■were jealously maintained by the company of La Mesta,
one of the most powerful and independent corporations in
Spain. This body, which derived large revenues from the
Bale of wool, was enabled to retain its privileges intact
until the reign of Charles III. Every summer their
flocks poured down the northern mountains, and the
absence of enclosures made it impossible to defend the
crops from their ravages. Besides making agriculture
impossible, the exclusive attention to sheep-rearing led to
the gradual disappearance of the old forests, and, as no
one ventured to plant new trees, great parts of Castile
became an arid desert. Every kind of industry suffered
in the same way as agriculture. The true Spaniard
despised all who earned a living by handicraft, and when
the Moriscoes had been banished it was impossible to
obtain skilled artisans except by importing them. The
Spaniards could not even cut their own timber into ships
or construct fortifications for their own towns. Madrid
and other cities were crowded with foreigners, who
hastened to make a fortune that they might carry it back
to their native land. The Government was quite as much
to blame as individuals. The gold from the New World
would have enabled Spain to command the markets of
Europe, but the mediaeval restrictions on the exportation
of the precious metals were strictly enforced. The high
price of commodities was attributed, not to the superfluity
of the medium of exchange, but to the competition of
foreign and colonial markets. It was forbidden to export
one article after another, and the colonies were expected
to send gold without receiving anything in exchange. \
more ruinous policy could hardly be conceived; but it wa ■
supported by the merchants themselves, who refused to
fill their vessels with anything but gold and silver, and
left the indigo, cotton, and other commodities to the
English and the Dutch. Domestic production, crippled
by these restrictions, was almost destroyed by the exces-
sive taxation rendered necessary by the ambitious schemes
of Philip II. and his descendants. It is notorious that
Austria could never have carried on the Thirty Years'
War so long but for the supplies received from Spain.
Spain, in fact, was the great subsidizing power in the
17th century, as England was in the 18th. The enormous
expenditure thus necessitated was wrung from the classes
least able to pay it, as the Government was not strong
enough to attack the exemption of the nobles and clergy.
The alcavala, the tax on sales which Ximenes had
abolished, was restored under Philip II., and in the ITth
century reached the enormous amount of 14 per cent.
The traders naturally sought to evade a tax which it was
impossible to pay. But this only increased the vigilance
of the revenue officers, who endeavoured to collect the tax
at every opportunity, on the raw material, on the manu-
factured product, and again every time that it changed
hands. Taxation in Spain was a caricature of Alva's
system in the Netherlands, and was even more ruinous
than that had been. Foreign nations reaped all the
advantages which the short-sighted policy of the Spaniards
threw away. It has been calculated that five-sixths of
the manufactured commodities consumed in Spain were
provided by foreigners, aud that they carried on nine-
tenths of the commerce with the Spanish colonies. By
law all foreign trade with the colonies was prohibited, but
the decline of native industry made it impossible to
enforce the laws, and the Spanish Government had to con-
nive at a contraband trade of which other countries gained
all the profit. The policy of the earlier kings had made
the colonies dependent upon European products, and
when Spain could no longer supply them they had to be
obtained elsewhere. Circumstances in the latter half of
the 17th century allied Sjjain with England and Holland
against France, and the English and Dutch founded their
commercial supremacy upon the trade which Spain threw
into their hands. The country which had sent a hundred
vessels to Lepanto, and which in 1588 had despatched the
great Armada against England, was reduced under Charles
II. to borrowing Genoese ves.iels to maintain its con-
nexion with the New World. The army, which had once
been the terror of Europe, had sunk at this time to an
effective force of little more than 20,000 men. In litera-
ture and art the decadence of Spain was equally con-
spicuous and complete. The religious unity of the country
was preserved, but all touch with the intellectual advance
of Europe was deliberately sacrific.d.
In spite of its loss of power and prestige, the crown of,
Spain was still regarded as a prize well worth winning.
Ever since Charles II.'s accession the Spanish succession
had been a prominen'' question for European diplomacy,
and from 1697 it became the pivot on which international
relations turnec. Charles II.'s first wife, Maria Louisa
of Orleans, had died childless in 1689, and his second
marriage to Maria Anna of Neubulg was equally unfruit-
ful. Tha male line of the Spanish Hapsburgs was
evidently on the verge of extinction, and by law and
tradition the crown would pass to the nearest female or
her heir. But the question was 'complicated in many
ways. Of Charles II.'s two sisters, the elder, Maria
Theresa, had married Louis XIV., and had renounced her
claims, but her husband had always protested against the
renunciation, and the non-payment of the stipulated
dowry gave him an argument for its nullity. The
younger, Margaret Theresa, had married the emperor
Leopold I., and had made no renunciation ; but she had
since died, leaving an only daughter, Maria, who married
the elector of Bavaria. Going a generation back, the
two sisters of Philip R''. had also married into the houses
of Bourbon and Hapsbnrg. Anne of Austria, whose
renunciation of the Spanish crown was undisputed, was
the mother of Louis XIV., while Maria Anna was the
mother of Leopold I. Ever since the division of the
house of Hapsburg into two branches it had been agreed
by a family compact that if either became extinct the
other should succeed to its territories. Leopold I. was
extremely anxious to restore the unity of the family by
securing the observance of this compact, and he had a
great advantage in the fact that Charles II.'s mother was
his own sister, and Charles's second wife was his sister-
in-law. The will of Philip IV. had arranged that, after
Charles II. and his descendants, the crown should pass,
first to Margaret Theresa and her children, and secondly to
Leopold and his children. It was a great disappointment
to Leopold that his first wife left him only a daughter,
but he tried to secure the claims of his family by extort-
ing from her on her marriage a renunciation of her rights
to the crown of Spain. This renunciation the Spanish
Government had never recognized, and the queen-mother,
whose adherence to the Hapsburg interests was overcome
by her feelings for her own famil)', induced Charles II. to
make a will in 1686 in which he named Joseph Ferdinand,
the infant electoral prince of Bavaria, as his heir. But
the queen-mother's death withdrew the dominant influence
at the court of Madrid and enabled the Austrian envoy,
Count Harrach, with the help of the queen, to procure the
revocation of this will. The succession now became the
subject of party quarrels and intrigues, in which the rival
envoys of Austria and France took a prominent part.
The aim of Leopold I. was to obtain the succession of
his second son, the archduke Charles, while Louis XIV.
hoped to procure the Spanish crown, if not for his fson, at
lea.'it for one of his gtandsons. The office of first minister
fHE SPAtflSH 8UCCE9SI0N.]
SPAIN
335
in Spain had not been filled up since the fall of Oropesa,
and the most influential man in the kingdom was Cardinal
Portocarrero, archbishop of Toledo. He was a bitter
opponent of the queen, who was extremely unpopular, and
all his efforts were directed to thwart the schemes of
Austria. To depress the cardinal, Maria Anna induced
Charles 11. to recall Oropesa, but the latter declined to
return to the Austrian alliance which he had previously
championed, and espoused the cause of the electoral prince.
There was no semblance at this time of a French party in
Madrid, but Louis XIV. availed himself of the cessation
of hostilities to send thither an able diplomatist. Count
Harcourt, who speedily contrived to exercise considerable
influence over the course of events.
Too many European interests . were involved in the
succession to allow it to be settled as a mere question of
domestic politics. The idea of the balance of power
dominated European diplomacy at this time, and William
IIL of England was its avowed and recognized champion.
England and Holland, the two countries with which
William was connected, were vitally interested in the
Spanish trade. The accession of a French prince in
Spain would almost inevitably transfer to France all the
advantages which they at present enjoyed It was
obvious that AVilliam III. must have a voice in the settle-
ment of this succession, and Louis XIV., who had no
desire for a new European war, was willing to recognize
this. ' The negotiations between England and France
resulted in the first treaty of partition (October 11, 1698).
The electoral prince was to receive the bulk of the Spanish
empire, viz., Spain itself, the Netherlands, Sardinia, and
the colonies ; the dattphin was to have Naples, Sicily,
Finale, and Guipuzcoa ; while Lombardy was to go to the
archduke Charles. This treaty had one fatal defect — that
it was based solely on the interests of the contracting
powers and took no account of the wishes of the Spaniards,
who resented any proposal for the division of the empire.
The first hint of the treaty irritated Charles II. into
making a second will in November in favour of the
electoral prince, and all parties in Spain agreed in its
approval. But within three months both treaty and will
were rendered null by the sudden death of the infant
prince (February 1699), and the question, thus reopened,
became more thorny than ever, as the choice now lay
definitely between Austria and France. It seemed almost
impossible to prevent the outbreak of a general war, but
William III. patiently reunited the broken threads of
his diplomacy, and arranged with France a second treaty
of partition. The Spanish monarchy was to bo divided
into two parts. The larger, consisting of Spain, the
Netherlands, Sardinia, and the colonics, was to go to the
archduke Charles. The da\!i-'liin was to receive the share
stipulated in the former treaty, with the material addition
of Lorraine. The duke of Lorraine was to be compensated
with the Milanese. This treaty, unlike the first, was
communicated to Austria; but the emperor, who was now
confident of securing the whole inheritance, refused to
accept it.
Meanwhile the death of the electoral prince had de-
stroyed the temporary unanimity at Madrid. Portocarrero
and his partisans wcto gained over to the side of France
by Harcourt. Oropesa fell back upon a scheme of his
own for uniting the whole Peninsula under the king of
Portugal. The queen returned to her old allegiance to
her brother-in-law, and formed a close alliance with
Plarrach for the advancement of the interests of the arch-
duke Charles. A popular rising overthrew Oropesa and
enabled Portocarrero to regain his ascendency. At this
juncture came the news of the second partition treaty,
which again irritated ihe tender susceptibility of the
Spaniards. The Austrian party hoped to utilize the
popular feeling against Louis XIV. as a party to the
hated treaty. But Harcourt adroitly contrived to suggest
that the best way of an lulling the pnrtition project was
to enlist Louis's own interests against it. The view
steadily gained ground that the house of Bourbon was
the only power strong enough to secure the unity of the
Spanish empire. Portocarrero succeeded in inducing
Pope Innocent XII. to support the French claim. Charles
II., feeble to the last, succumbed to this combination of
influence.s, and signed a testament bequeathing the suc-
cession to Philip of Anjou, the second grandson of Louis
XIY., on condition that he would renounce all claims to
the crown of France (October 3, 1700). Thus his last
act was to disinherit his own family in favour of the
enemy with whom he had been at war almost all his reign.
He died on the 1st of November 1700.
Everything now depended upon the decision of Louis
XIV. The treaty of partition offered substantial advant-
ages to France.; Charles II.'s will would exalt the house
of Bourbon above every other family in Europe. His
hesitation, whether real or feigned, did not last long. On
November 16 he introduced his grandson to the French
court as Philip V. of Spain. The. dynastic ambition of
the king was also based upon sound policy. In the face
of Spanish opinion and of the emperor's refusal it was
impossible to tarry out the partition treaty, x^nd for the
moment it appeared that the accession of a Bourbon
prince would be secured without difficulty. Philip V
was proclaimed in all parts of the Spanish monarchy amid
popular acclamations. Leopold I. protested and prepared
to attack Lombardy, but he could not hope to obtain the
whole succession for his son without the assistance of
the maritime powers. William III., who saw the aims of
his life threatened with ruin, was eager for war, but his
subjects, both in England and Holland, were resolute to
maintain peace. In these circumstances Louis XIV.
played into, -the hands of his enemies. He expelled the
Dutch garrisons from the fortresses of the Netherlands
which they had occupied since the treaty of Eyswick, and
replaced them by French troops. " He showed a cynical
intention to regard Spain as a province of France, and he
took measures to secure for the French the commercial
ad\antages hitherto enjoyed by England and Holland.
William III. was thus enabled to conclude the Grand
Alliance (September 7, 1701), by which the contracting
powers undertook to obtain the Netherlands and the
Italia,n provinces of Spain for the archduke Charles and
to preserve the mercantile monopoly of the English and
Dutch. A few days afterwards James II. died at St
Germains, and Louis XIV. was injudicious enough to
acknowledge his son as king of England. This insult
exasperated public opinion in that country; the Tory
parliament was dissolved; and the last obstacle to
William's warlike policy was swept away. William him-
self died in March 1702, but he left the continuance of
his policy to the able hands of Marlborough and Hcinsius.
The war which the emperor had commenced single-handed
in 1701 became general in the next year.
It is needless to follosv the military operations of the
War of the Spanish Succession, which liave been rendered
famous by the exploits of Eugene and Marlborough. The
chief scenes of hostilities were the Netherlands, Germany,
and Italy, in each of which the French suffered fatal and
humiliating reverses. At first the peninsula of Spain was
not directly concerned in the war. The Grand Alliance
did not aim at excluding Philip from the Spanish
monarcliy as a whole, but only from those parts which the
maritime powers wished to preserve from French influence.
But in 1703 Pedro 11. of Portujjal deserted iho cause of
336
SPAIN
[history.
France and concluded the Jletliuen treaty with England.
This opened the Peninsula to the allied forces and
necessitated a revision of the terras of the alliance.
Pedro's support could only be purchased by the expulsion
of the French from Spain, and the allies now determined
to claim the whole Spanish inheritance for the archduke
Charles. In 170-t the archduke appeared in Portugal,
and the English fleet, under Sir George Rooke, captured
Gibraltar. As the assistance of the Portuguese was only
half-hearted, it was decided in 1705 to seek a new open-
ing in the east. Catalonia, always inclined to revolt
against its rulers, and recently irritated by the conduct of
Philip v., offered a convenient base of operations. The
brilliant but eccentric earl of Peterborough succeeded in
capturing Barcelona, and by the end of the year the arch-
duke was acknowledged as Charles IIL in Catalonia,
Valencia, and Aragon. A great effort on the part of
Philip to recover the lost provinces was repulsed, and a
simultaneous advance of the allies from the east and from
•Portugal compelled him to evacuate Madrid, where Charles
III. was formally proclaimed. But the provincial dis-
junion, which .had so often hampered the Hapsburg kings,
proved the salvation of their Bourbon suocessor. The
Castilians refused to obey a king who was forced upon
them from Aragon, and their religious instincts were
offended by the alliance of Charles with the heretics of
England and Holland. Disunion among the allies aided
the revolt of Castile, and by the end of 170C Charles III.
found himself compelled to evacuate his recent conquests
and to return to Barcelona. In 1707 the allies attempted
another invasion of Castile, but they were routed by the
duke of Berwick at Almanza, and Aragon and Valencia
were forced to return to their allegiance to Philip V.
For the next two years the war in the Peninsula languished.
Charles III. received reinforcements from Austria under
Stahremberg, but he was unable to do more than retain
his hold upon Barcelona. In 1710 the cause of the allies
received a new impulse from the arrival of Stanhope with
supplies of men and money from England. Under
the joint command of Stanhope and Stahremberg the
army advanced westwards from Barcelona, defeated I'hilip
V. at Almenara and Saragossa, and for the second time
occupied Madrid. The disasters which the French had
experienced in other parts of Europe had broken the
pride of Louis XIV., and he was prepared to purchase
peace by sacrificing his grandson. A treaty would have
been concluded to this effect at Gertruydenburg, if the
allies had not insisted that the French troops should be
employed in forcing Philip V. to accept it. Louis XIV.
refused to take arms against his own family, and a sudden
change in the current of fortune saved him from the
humiliation which his enemies wished to force upon him.
Charles III. found it impossible to maintain Madrid in
face of the enthusiasm of the Castilians for his rival.
The capital of Spain was of no importance from a military
point of view, and the allies determined on its evacuation.'
On their retreat they were followed by Vendome, whom
Louis XrV. had sent to his grandson's assistance. Stan-
hope, attacked at Brihuega, was compelled to capitulate
with all his forces before Stahremberg could arrive to his
assistance. The latter was defeated after an obstinate
struggle at Villa Viciosa. Aragon and Valencia again
submitted 'to Philip, and the archduke was once more
confined to Catalonia.
At this juncture two events occurred whid^ completely
altered the balance of the contending powers. .The fall of
the Whig ministry through a court intrigue gave the con-
trol of English policy to the Tories, who had always been
hostile to the war. The death of Joseph I. in April 1711
left the Austrian territories to his brother, the archduke
Charles, 'who was soon afterwards elected emperor as
Charles YL. To allow him to obtain the Spanish succes-
sion would be to revive the empire of Charles V., and
would be even more dangerous to the balance of power
than the recognition of Philip V. with adequate securities
against the union of France and Spain. The object for
which the allies had been making such immense exertions,
was now a result to be averted at any cost.
In these altered circumstances, Bolingbroke, the English.
minister, hurried on the negotiations with France which
resulted in the treaty of Utrecht between England, France,
Spain, and Holland. Philip V. was acknowledged as
king of Spain, on condition that he should formally
renounce all eventual claims to the crown of France. But
the partition of the Spanish monarchy was insisted upon
by the allies. The Netherlands were to bo handed over
to Austria, on condition that the Dutch should garrison
the barrier fortresses. Austria was also to receive the
Italian provinces of Spain, with the exception of Sicily,
which was given to the duke of Savoy with the title of
king. Flnglaud naturally obtained considerable advant-
ages from a wai' in which she had borne so prominent a
pai-t. The acquisition of Gibraltar and Minorca g-ave her
the control of the Mediterranean. The asiento conferred
upon her the privilege of importing slaves into the Spanish
colonies, and she also obtained the right of sending a
single vessel into the South Seas. France had to recog-
nize the Protestant succession, and to cede Newfoundland,
Acadia (Nova Scotia), and Hudson's Bay. Charles VI.
refused to accept the terms offered to him at Utrecht, but
he found it impossible to carry on the war by himself,
and in 1714 he made peace with France by the treaty of
Rastalt. But he stiU retained the title of king of Spain,
and showed no willingness to acknowledge Philip V.
The great blot on the conduct of the allies in arranging
the treaty of Utrecht was the desertion of the Catalans,
who had rendered such loyal services during the war.
They were left to the tender mercies of Philip V., who
sent Berwick to reduce the rebellious province. Barcelona
resisted for many months with the heroism of despair, and
was well-nigh reduced to ashes before it could be taken
(September 1714). With its fall all resistance came to
an end. The three Aragonese provinces were deprived of
the last -remnants of their ancient privileges, and were
henceforth ruled from Madrid under CastUian laws.
With the final accession of a Bourbon king Spain
entered upon a new period of history, in which it once
more played a considerable part in European politics.
The death of Louis XIV. (1715), and the acquisition of
the regency in France by the duke of Orleans, destroyed
the close connexion that had hitherto existed between
France and Spain. Philip V. was hypochondriacal and
bigoted, the slave of his wife and his confessor, but he
had certain definite schemes to which he clung with the
obstinacy of a weak, character. In spite of his solemn
renunciations and the guarantee of the European powers,
he never relinquished the idea of ultimately succeeding to
the French throne. In what was regarded as the probable
event of Louis XV. 's death, he was dsterminod to enforce
his hereditary claim, even if he had to resign the crown of
Spain. His interests were diametrically opposed to those
of the duke of Orleans, who was, after Philip's family, the
natural heir to Louis XV. Philip V. had one other guid-
ing passion, enmity to Charles VT., who had robbed the
Spanish monarchy of its faire.st provinces in Italy.' These
provinces he set his heart upon regaining, and in this
project he was . encouraged by the two people who had
most influence over him, — his wife and his irunister.
Philip V.'s first wife, Maria Louisa of Savoy, liad died in
1714, leaving him two son.s, Louis and Ferdinand.' A sue
PHILIP v.]
SPAIN
337
cesser was speedily fouud for her iu the person of Elizabeth
Farnese, nieco of the duke of Parma, who was suggested
jy Alberoni, at that time agent for Parma at Madrid.
The new queen speedily obtained unlimited ascendency
over her husband's mind, and she displayed an unbridled
ambition and a capacity for intrigue astounding in one
who had been' brought up in complete retirement. As
Philip's sons by his first wife would exclude her own
children from the Spanish throne, she was anxious to
obtain for the latter the reversion of the duchies of Parma
and Tuscany, to which she had an eventual claim. With
this end in view she encouraged her husband's designs in
Italy, while personal ambition made her eager to see him
on the French throne. Her favour gave the conduct of
Spanish affairs for a short period to her countryman
Alberoni, one of the strangest personages of the 18th
century. The son of a gardener at Piacenza, he had
sought a career in the church, and had come to Spain in
the suite of Vendome, whose favour he had won by com-
bining the functions of a cook and a buffoon. After the
death of his patron he remained in Spain, and conceived
an ardent affection for the country of his adoption. Raised
to power by the part he had played in effecting the king's
marriage, he determined to exalt Spain from its long de-
pression to the position it had once occupied in Europe.
His domestic reforms showed that he had a real capacity
for government. Commerce and industry revived under
his patronage ; the army was reorganized, and the revenue
increased. But his chief attention was given to the navy,
the real foundation of the former greatness of Spain.
Foreigners who had known the country under Charles II.
or during the Succession War were astounded at the
strides which it had made under the new administration.
Alberoni himself is said to have assured Philip that with
five years of peace he would make him the most powerful
sovereign of Europe. But these years of peace he was
not destined to have. Alberoni cordially approved the
Italian designs of Philip, and hoped to employ the restored
might of Spain in freeing his native country from the
hated rule of Austria. He had less sympathy with the
king's hankering after the French crown and his enmity
to the regent Orleans. But he held office only by the
royal favour, and could not venture to set up his own will
against that of his master. He was convinced, and not
without reason, that everything would go well if he could
secure the English alliance.
But the attitude of Spain had already awakened sus-
picion in France, and the ready mind of Dubois had
conceived a plan for thwarting Alberoni. He determined
to desert the policy of Louis XIV. and to conclude a
close alliance between Franco and England. This was to
be based upon the common danger from rival pretenders,
which urged the houses of Orleans and Hanover to main-
tain the provisions of the treaty of Utrecht. An agree-
ment was arranged between the two states in 17 IG, and,
being joined by Holland in January 1717, was known as
the Triple Alliance. This was a great blow to Alberoni,
and made him anxious to postpone all hostilities until his
preparations were complete. But his hand was forced by
the indignation excited in Philip V.'s mind by an insult
ofTered to him by the emperor. The grand inquisitor
of Spain was arrested in Lombardy as a rebel against
Charles III., his lawful king. Philip V. decided for an
immediate rupture, and Alberoni against his will had to
send an expedition to Sardinia, which overran the island
in 1717. The enthusiasm excited in Spain by the
unwonted news of a military success was increased in
1 7 1 S when another Spanish force occupied Sicily. But
meanwhile Charles VI. had appealed to Franco and Eng-
land for assistance against this rupture of the treaty of
Utrecht. The Triple Alliance, reinforced by the junction
of Austria, became the Quadruple Alliance (August 1718).
The resolution of the allies was convincingly displayed in
a naval encounter in which Admiral Byng destroyed the
Spanish fleet off Cape Passaro.
Hitherto the only fault to be found with Alberoni'a
schemes is that they were attempted prematurely, and
this was the fault of the king rather than of the minister.
But the Quadruple Alliance drove him in despair to form
those far-reaching projects which are generally associated
with his name, and which have given rise to the unjust
impression that his whole policy was chimerical and
unsound. To meet the hostility of England and France
he must make use of internal divisions. He invited the
Pretender to Spain, prepared an expedition in his behalf,
and concerted with Count Gorz, the minister of Charles
XII., a grand scheme by which Sweden and Russia were
to combine in supporting the Jacobites against George I.
At the same time, through the Spanish envoy Cellamare,
he organized a conspiracy among the numerous opponents
of thn regent. All these schemes broke down simul-
taneously. Charles XII. was killed at the siege of an
obscure town in Norway ; Gorz was executed by his
successor ; the Spanish fleet which was to carry the Pre-
tender to England was wrecked ; the conspiracy of Cel-
lamare was discovered and suppressed. France declared
war, and sent an army under Berwick across the Pyrenees.
An English fleet gratified the national love of a maritime
monopoly by burning along the Spanish coast the vessels
and docks which Alberoni had created. The emperor,
who had just ended a war with Tvfrkey by the treaty of
Passarowitz, was able to send a force which succeeded in
recovering Sicily. Alberoni was sacrificed to appease the
enemies of Spain, and was exiled ,from the kingdom he
had served so loyally in December 1719. A month later
Philip V. accepted the terms imposed upon him by the
Quadruple Alliance. He had to confirm his renunciation
of the French crown, and also to abandon aU claims on
the provinces of Spain which had been ceded to Austria
by the treaties of Utrecht and Rastatt. He also allowed
the emperor to retain Sicily, the duke of Savoy being
compensated with Sardinia. On the other hand Charles
VI.'s pretensions to the Spanish crown were definitely
abandoned, and the allies recognized the eventual claims
to Parma and Tuscany of Philip's children by his second
marriage, on condition that those duchies should never be
united with Spain.
In spite of the conclusion of peace, Philip continued to
cherish his animosity against Charles VI., especially as
the latter showed an inclination to evade the condition
about Parma and Tuscany by encouraging other claimants
to come forward. To gratify this passion, Philip went so
far as to lay aside his old enmity against the duke of
Orleans, and to authorize the negotiation of a close
alliance with France. His eldest son, Don Luis, was
married to a daughter of the regent, and Louis XV. was
betrothed to the infanta Maria Anna. But the death of
Orleans in 1723 gave a new direction to the king's policy.l
In 1734 Europe was astounded by the news that Philip
had abdicated in favour of Don Luis, and had gone into
retirement at San Ildefonso. This act was generally attri-
buted to the indolence and superstition which formed thei
basis of his character, but the real motive was undoubted'jj
a desire to remove the chief obstacle to his accession in
France. Louis XV., however, disappointed his cipectar
tions by continuing to live, and the queen soon wearied of
her unwonted seclusion. Luis only survived his accession
eight months, and to the surprise of tho world Philip V.
emerged from his retreat to rcsumo the croVLD which ho
had laid down of his own accord.
338
S P A 1 K
[mSTORti
The queen returned to power more determined than
ever to carry out her favourite scheme of obtaining an
Italian principality for her eldest son Don Carlos. As
France and England had shown themselves lukewarm in
the matter,- she resolved to turn to her husband's enemy,
Charles VI. This scheme was suggested by a Dutch
adventurer, Ripperda, who inspired Elizabeth with a
belief that the Austrian alliance would enable her not
only to efE.ect her object in Italy, but also to regain
Gibraltar and Minorca for Spain. This was rendered the
more probable by the fact that Charles VI. bad quarrelled
with England about the foundation of the Ostend Com-
pany. The conduct of the affair was entrusted to Hip-
perda himself, and while he was at Vienna a great impulse
was given to the negotiation by a complete rupture
between Spain and France. The duke of Bourbo;5, who
had become chief minister in France after the death of
Orleans, had set himself to reverse the policy of his pre-
decessor. To complete this, he scut the infanta back to
Spain and married Louis XV. to Maria Leczinska,
daughter of the ex-king of Poland. This insult removed
the last scruples of Philip V. about th" Austrian alliance,
and in April 1725 Eipperda concluded the treaty of
Vienna. The mutual renunciations arranged by the
Quadruple Alliance were confirmed : Spain recognized the
settlement of the Austrian succession by the Pragmatic
Sanction and promised great commercial privileges to the
Ostend Company, while Charles VI. pledged himself to
secure the succession of Don Carlos in Parma and Tuscany
and to use his influence with England to obtain the restitu-
tion of Gibraltar and Minorca. By a secret treaty Charles
further undertook, in the case of England's refusal, to
assist Spain with arms and also to send aid to the
Jacobites. These terms were soon divulged by thj indis-
creet vanity of Ripperda himself, and England and France
formed the counter-league of Hanover (September 1725),
which was also joined by Frederick William I. of Prussia,
though only for a short time.
Ripperda returned to Spain, to be rewarded with the
office of chief minister. But his success seems to have
turned his head ; his boasts about the grand results to be
expected from the Austrian alliance proved to be ill-
founded, and his fall was as sudden as his rise had been.
After a brief period of exile in England, he sought a new
home in Morocco, where he became a convert to Islam
and died in 1737. But his policy was continued by hia
successor, Don Joseph Patiuo, who sent a fleet to lay siege
lo Gibraltar. Europe was now divided into two hostile
leagues, but the outbreak of a general war was averted,
partly by the pacific inclinations of Walpole in England
and Fleury in France, and partly by the growing coolness
between Austria and Spain. Charles VI. had been led
into the treaty of Vienna by a momentary pique against
England, but he soon realized that he had more to lose
than to gain by favouring the Spanish designs upon Italy.
Accordingly, in May 1727, while the siege of Gibraltar
was proceeding, he threw over his obligations to Spain
and signed the preliminaries of a peace with England and
France. The Ostend Company was suspended, and the
questions about Parma, Tuscany, and Gibraltar were
referred to a European congress at Soissons. The Spanish
Government found it impossible to hold out iu isolation,
and accepted these terms by the convention of the Pardo
.(March 1728).
The congress of Soissons was a complete tauure, and
the irrepressible energy of the Spanish queen discovered a
new method of obtaining her ends. The birth of a son to
Loais XV. removed into the background all idea of the
succession in France, and the attitude of Charles VI.
Droved that he would do nothing for Don Carlos. Under
these circumstances there was no alternative out to sacri.
fice the prospect of recovering Gibraltar and Minorca and
to seek the alliance of England and France. By the
treaty of Seville (November 1729) these powers, with
Holland, concluded an offensive and defensive aUiance
with Spain. The privileges which the latter country had
conferred upon the Ostend Company were revoked. Don
Carlos was recognized as the heir to Parma and Tuscany,
and to enforce his claims these provinces were to be
occupied by 6000 Spanish troops. Charles VI., astounded
at this sudden change in the aspect of affairs, took activo
steps to oppose this occupation- of the duchies. He
collected 30,000 troops in Italy, and when the old duke of
Parma died in January 1731 he seized his territories as
an imperial fief. Elizabeth caUed upon her allies to carry
out the treaty of Seville, but Walpole and I leriry were
unwilling to resort to hostilities. Luckily Charles VI.
thought more of securing his daughter's succession in
Austria than of anything else. By pronaising that Eng-
land would guarantee the Pragmatic Sanction, Walpole
induced the emperor to conclude the second treaty of
Vienna (Jlarch 1731), which dissolved the Ostend Com-
pany and confirmed the provisions of the treaty of Seville.
In 1732 English ships conveyed Don Carlos and the
Spanish troops to Italy. Parma and Piacenza were
immediately occupied, and the grandduke of Tuscany
acknowledged Don Carlos as his heir.
In the long and intricate series of negotiations of 'which
we have given a brief summary the guiding thread is the
grasping ambition of the queen of Spain. That ambition
was by no means satisfied by the results obtained in the
treaty of Vienna. Austria still held the Italian provinces
of Spain and was looking out for an opportunity to expel
Don Carlos from central Italy. England retained her
hold upon Gibraltar and Minorca, and claimed a maritime
and colonial supremacy which threatened to thwart all
schemes for the revival of Spanish commerce. Elizabeth
never relinquished for a moment the hope of humiliating
England and expelhng the Hapsburgs from Italy. Cir-
cumstances at this time were more favourable than they
had ever been before. The able administration of Patiiio,
" the Colbert of Spain," had restored order in the Spanish
finances, and had already made considerable strides
towards the creation of a formidable fleet. But the great
advantage lay in the fact that the death of Orleans and
the birth of children to Louis XV. had removed all
obstacles in the way of an aUiance between Spain and
France. The close union between the two branches of
the house of Bourbon, which the Grand AUiance had
endeavoured to avert, and which circumstances had post-
poned for twenty years, was now to become an accom-
plished fact. In 1733 "an eternal and irrevocable family
compact" was signed by the Count Eottembourg and Don
Joseph Patifio. France and Spain pledged themselves to
pursue a common policy in regard both to Austria and
England, the object 6f which was to destroy the Italian
ascendency of the one and the commercial monopoly of
the other. This treaty, which constituted a danger to
Europe hardly less than the aggressions of Louis XIV.,
was kept a profound secret, and, though its existence was
more than suspected at the time, its fuU importance has
not been apprehended until recent times.
The first opportunity for carrying out this common
policy was offered by the dispute about the Polish succes-
sion which broke out in 1733 between Stanislaus Leczin-
ski and Augustiis III. of Saxony. Austria and Russia
supported the latter prince, while I^ouis XV. espoused the
cause of his father-in-law. But the war in Poland itself
was of very secondary importance compared with the
hostilities to which it gave rise in southern Europe.
PHILIP V.
SPAIN
339
France, Spain, pnd Sardinia concluded the league of Turin
(October 1733) for the pajtition of Charles VI.'s Italian
province?. The chief events of the ^var, from the Spanish
point of view, were the occupation of Naples and Sicily
by Don Carlos. It was intended that he should keep
these kingdoms, and that Parma and Tuscany should be
transferred to his younger brother Don Philip. But
Fleury, seeing an opportunity of securing his own ends,
refu.sed^to continue the war for the aggrandizement of
Spain. In 1735 he concluded the preliminaries of a peace
with Austria by which Don Carlos was to te recognized
as king of the Two Sicilies, Charles VI. was to be com-
pensated with Parma, and his sou-in-law was to receive
Tuscany in exchange for Lorraine, which was eventually
to pass to France. The Spanish queeu was bitterly indig-
nant at the desertion of her ally, at the cession of her
native Parma to Austria, and at the failure to provide
anything for her second son. She struggled hard to pro-
long the war, but the only result of her manauvres was
to postpone the conclusion of the definitive treaty until
1739, when the preliminaries were confirmed.
Jleanwhile Spain had become involved in a maritime
quarrel with England. The restrictions imposed by the
treaty of Utrecht upon English trade with the Spanish
colonies had been systematically evaded by the develop-
inent of a system of organized smuggling on the part of
the British traders. The Spaniards, encouraged by the
secret compact with France, refused to tolerate an abuse
which their weakness had compelled them to connive at
in the previous century. To put a stop to it they rigidly
enforced their right of search, often seizing British vessels
on the high seas and treating the crews with gross
brutality. This gave rise to great ill-feeling between the
two nations, which was increased by other colonial dis-
putes about the right of gathering logwood in Carapeachy
Bay and on the frontiers of Florida. The popular indigna-
tion in England, which Walpole's opponents fanned for
their own purposes, was raised to fever-heat by the story
of Jenkins, an English captain, who maintained that he
had been tortured and his ears cut off by a Spanish rjuarda
casta. Walpole, who had refused to believe in the Family
Compact, and had steadily adhered to a policy of peace,
was compelled by the popular clamour to declare war in
October 1739. The maritime operations which followed
were insignificant. Admiral Vernon took Porto BeLlo,
and Anson plundered Payta ; but England was distracted
by party jealousies and her naval organization had fallen
into disorder during the long peace. Luckily for her,
Patino had died in 173G, and the impulse which he had
given to the Spanish navy ended with him. But before
long the quarrel was absorbed in the great European war
which arose about the Austrian succession.
Charles VT. had persuaded almost every European
power to guarantee the Pragmatic Sanction, but the suc-
;e8sion of Maria Theresa to his territories was not in the
least facilitated by the paper promises to support her.'
B'ngland was almost tho only power that adhorcd to its
engagements. Frederick of Prussia advanced an obsolete
claim to Silesia, and France seized the opportunity to
humiliate the house of Hapsburg. Spain hastened to join
the coalition against tho unfortunate heiress. Philip V.
claimed to represent the Spanish branch of the Hapsburgs,
and pleaded the old family agreement by which they were
to succeed on the extinction of the Austrian line. There
was no possibility of so absurd a claim being recognized,
bnt it opened the prospect of recovering the lost provinces
in Italy. Sardinia was gained over by the promise of
Dart of Lombardy. Naples and Sicily were already in
.he hands of Don Carlos. It seemed hardly possible that
Maria Theresa, pressed by enemies on every side, could
successfully defend her Italian territonFS. A 8pantsB
army under Jfontemar was embarked in French ves-sels,
and, after evading the English fleet, landed in the Gulf of
Genoa in 1741. The first news was discouraging, as
Charles Emmanuel of Sardinia, ready like his predecessors
to sell his alliance to the highest bidder, had been bought
off by Jfaria Theresa. It was not till 1742 that the
camjiaign began with an advance upon ^loduna, whcrd
the duke had promised his support to Spain. But th*
Austrians and Sardinians were the first in the field.
They expelled the duke of !Modcna from his territorica
and drove Jfontcniar to retreat towards Naples. Al
the same time the English fleet appeared before Naples,
and the threat of an immediate bombardment compelled
Don Carlos to promise a strict neutrality during the rest
of the v,-ar. Count Gages, who was sent to sujjersede the
unsuccessful Jlonteniar, was unable to recover the lost
ground, and tho first campaign ended without any serioul
advantage to either side beyond the Austrian occupatioB
of Jlodena. In 1743 Gages again attempted the invasioo
of Lombardy, but was defeated at Campo Santo and
repulsed. Austria and Sardinia concluded a close alliance/
in the treaty of ^Vorms (September 1743), which waa
negotiated by England. FrSnce and Spain sought tof
meet this coalition by renewing the Family Compact at
Fontainebleau (October 1743). France undertook to aid
in conquering the Milanese for Don Philip, to declare war
against England, and not to make peace until Gibraltar,
and if possible Minorca too, had been restored to Spain
Don Philip himself was sent with a Spanish army through
southern France, but he failed to force a passage through
the Alps. The campaign of 1744 was indecisive, but in
the next year the great efforts made by Jlaria Theresa ta
recover Silesia gave her opponents in Italy an opportunity
of which they were not slow to avail themselves. Gag«(
effected a junction at Genoa with the combined Frencli
and Spanish troops under !Maillebois and Don Philip,
Advancing into Piedmont the allies took Tortona,.and
after occupying Parma and Piacenza they invaded Lom-
bardy. This move effected the desired object of separate
ing the Austrians and Sardinians. Schulenburg hurried
off to the defence of his mistress's territories, and th^
allies at once turned upon Charles Emmanuel and defeated
him at Bassignano. The French wi.shed to complete tha
conquest of Piedmont, but the Spaniards insisted uponl
renewing tlie invasion of Lombardy. That province waa
now entirely undefended, as tlie Austrians had returned
to the assistance of Charles Emmanuel, who detained
them by the threat that if he were deserted he would
make terms with the allies. One town after another
surrendered or was taken, and in December Don Philip
entered Milan in triumph. But meanwhile Maria Theresa
had ended the Silesian War by the treaty of Dresden, and
was thus enabled to send reinforcements into Ital}'. The
tide of success turned with marvellous rapidity. Tha
Spaniards evacuated Lombardy, and were soon driven
from all their conquests in Piedmont except Tortona. Al
Piacenza, to' which the Bourbon army had retreated, it
was completely defeated by the Austrians.
At this juncture the news arrived from • Spain tha»
Philip V. had died on July 9, and had been succeeded by
Ferdinand VI., the only surviving son of his first marriaga
Elizabeth Farnese, " tho termagant," as Carlylo calls her,
whoso ambition had kept Europe embroiled for thirtj
years, went into retirement at San Ildofonso This ovcii|
naturally influenced the war in Italy. It waa not likely
that the new king, who had never Been on good tcrnyi
with his stepmother, jvoulcUexBend <Doro of his- country's
blood and treasure' "tcrolfaiu a principality for his hnlfj
brother. Ilia first act waa to tupersede Cages by Ui«
340
SPAIN
Lhistory.
'inaiquis of Las Minas, who found tlie Spanish army at
Tortona and hastened to withdraw it from Italy into
Savoy, which Don Philip had occupied since 1742. The
Austrians at once besieged and captured Genoa, thus
cutting off the possibility of a renewed invasion of Italy,
except through the well-guarded passes of the Alps.
From this time the mihtary operations ceased to have any
direct importance for Spain, and all interest centred in
the negotiations which were carried on at Breda in 1747
and transferred to Aix-la-Chapelle in the next year. The
chief obstacle to peace was the demand of a principality
for Don Philip, which Ferdinand VI. persisted in as
necessary for the honour of Spain. ^Maria Theresa had
already made sacrifices to Prussia and to Sardinia, and
resented the idea of ceding any more of her territories.
But the persistence of England carried the day, and in
the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle (October 1748) Don Philip
obtained Parma, Piacenza, and Guastalla as an hereditary
principality, on condition that they should revert to
;Austria on extinction of his male descendants. This was
the sole' advantage gained by Spain. Austria retained
Lombardy, shorn of the portion promised to Charles
Emmanuel ; and the commercial and naval ascendency of
EIngland remained unshaken. The recovery of Gibraltar,
•which at one time Philip V. had confidently expected, was
now further off than ever.
Ferdinand VI. was as feeble in health and as averse to
business as his father had been, but he was equally
obstinate on certain points. He would have nothing to
do with the aggressive policy of his stepmother or ^^^th
the Bourbon schemes for the humiliation of England.
oLis accession broke off the Family Compact, and ^ave to
Spain the unaccustomed boon of thirteen years' peace.
His aim was to hold the balance between the rival powers
of western Europe, and in this he was aided by the discord
"between his two ministers, Ensenada and Carvalho, of
vhom the former favoured France and the latter England.
'When Kaunitz, the Austrian envoy at Versailles, was
endeavouring to negotiate an alliance between the Haps-
[burgs and Bourbons, Ferdinand seized the opportunity to
eonclude the treaty of Aranjuez, which guaranteed the
fe;ut^ality of the Italian provinces of the two families,
n the outbreak of the Seven Years' War in 1756 great
efforts were made to draw Spain into the struggle.
iTrance offered Minorca, which had been lost by Byng at
the first outbreak of hostilities, and England hastened to
make the counter-proposition of a cession of Gibraltar.
(Ferdinand, however, refused both bribes, and maintained
liis policy of peace till his death in 1759.
This event gave the Spanish crown to Charles III., who
had ruled the Two Sicilies since 1735. His accession
threatened a speedy reversal of Spanish policy. The new
king was a true Bourbon, and naturally inclined to the
Trench alliance. He had an old grudge against England
for the treatment he had received in the War of the
(Austrian Succession. He also owed a debt of gratitude
'to Maria Theresa for enabling him to transfer the crown
■toi Naples to his third son, whereas by the treaty of Aix-
la-Chapelle it ought to have passed to his brother, Philip
•f Parma. In spite of these motives, he hesitated for
two years to take a decisive step. Spain was not pre-
pared for war, and Charles had never cordially approved
the change of policy at Versailles which had united France
with its old rival Austria. But the rapid successes of
England under Pitt's administration, and the danger of
a vast extension of the maritime and colonial ascendency
jftf that country, soon overcame his scruples. In 1701 the
third Family Compact was concluded, and Spain under-
took to give active assistance to France unless peace were
poaduded within a year. Pitt, suspecting the existence
of this agreement, proposed an immediate declaration of
war against Spain, but he failed to convince his cabinet
and resigned. His successors, however, were driven to
adopt his policy, and in January 17G2 hostilities com-
menced between the two countries. But Spain only
entered the war to share the disasters which France had
already begun to suffer. An invasion of Portugal, which
had been regarded as a defenceless prey, was foiled by
English assistance, and the English fleet captured Mar-
tinique and Havana. The Bourbon powers found it neces-
sary to implore peace, and it was fortunate for them that
the English government had passed into the hands of
Bute, who was eager to diminish the influence of Pitt by
terminating the war. By the treaty of Paris (February
1763) England recovered Jlinorca, extended its colonies
in every direction at the expense of France, and rejected
all the demands which Charles III. had advanced on
behalf of Spain.
In spite of the treaty Charles IIL's foreign policy
continued to be guided by jealousy of England, and he
clung to the French alliance as the only means by which
he could avenge his recent humiliation. In this he was
encouraged by his foreign minister, Grimaldi, who was so
devoted to France that Choiseul declared himself to be
more powerful at JIadrid than at Versailles. In 1770 a
dispute about the Falkland Islands, from which the
English settlers had been expelled by a Spanish force,
would probably have led to a renewal of war if a domestic
intrigue had not succeeded at this juncture in overthrow-
ing Choiseul. For the next few years a marked coolness
grew up between France and Spain, which was -increased
when Louis XVI. disappointed the hopes that had bee*
formed of his accession and left Choiseul in retirement.
Grimaldi, chagrined at the failure of an alliance on which
all his schemes were based, resigned office in 1777 and
was succeeded by Count Florida Blanca, one of the most
distinguished of the able ministers who ruled Spain
during this period. The change of ministers made no
difference to the policy of Charles III., whose obstinacy
was in no way inferior to that of his predecessors. For
many years Spain and Portug-al had been engaged in
disputes about the frontiers of their territories in South
America, disputes which were rendered more bitter by the
arrogance of Pombal, the Portuguese minister. The death
of Joseph I. in 1777 and the consequent dismissal of
Pombal enabled Florida Blanca to negotiate the treaty of
San Ildefonso, by which Sacramento and the navigation
of the Rio de la Plata were ceded to Spain, and a definite
boundary was drawn between Brazil and Paraguay on the
one side and Peru on the other. This was followed in
March 1778 by the conclusion of a perpetual alliance a'
the Pardo, by which Portugal was attached to the interests
of the Bourbon states. These treaties, which Florida
Blanca regarded as among the most signal successes of his
ministry, came very opportunely to enable Charles III. to
resume the schemes that had lain in abeyance since 1763.
England was involved in a desperate struggle with the
revolted colonies of North America, and this offered the
Bourbons the long-desired opportunity for revenge. In
1778 France entered into close alliance with the colonists,
and in the next year Spain followed her example. Every-
thing seemed to favour the allies. The Northern powers,
irritated by the high-handed way in which England had
asserted and exercised her maritime supremacy, formed
the " armed nelitrality " under the lead of Catherine 11.
of Russia. Even Holland, the oldest and most constant
ally of England, was involved in the general coalition.
England, which had failed single-handed to coerce its own
subjects, was now face to face with the whole maritime
power of Europe, and was also hampered by domestic and
OHAELES III.]
S P /. I N
841
Irish troubles. Spain succeeded in capturing Minorca
and laid close siege to Gibraltar. Many of the West-
Indian islands were captured from the English, and the
surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown destroyed the last
hope of restoring American dependence. Tha most con-
fident hopes were entertained of stripping England of thp
great bulk of its colonial possessions. But in 1782 the
tide of success turned. Eodney, by the novel manoeuvre
of breaking the line, destroyed the French fleet in the
West Indies, while the heroic defence ot General Elliott
and the opportune arrival of supplies under the convoy
of Lord Howe saved Gibraltar from overwhelming odds.
The want of unanimity among the allies, each of whom
thought only of its own interests, hastened the conclusion
of peace in 1783. The treaty of Versailles, _by which
Spain kept Minorca and obtained the Floridas, was the
most honourable which that country had concluded since
Cateau Cambr6sis. But the failure to recover Gibraltar
was a bitter disappointment to Charles III., who con-
tinued till his death (December 14, 1788) to cherish the
scheme of renewing the war, though the growing disorders
in France made it more and more certain that he could
no longer rely upon the assistance of that country.
The reigns of the first three Bourbon kings form a
period of great importance in Spanish history. At the
end of the 17th century Spain appeared -to be a lifeless
corpse, over which the other powers of Europe could con-
tend at will. In the 18th century men were astounded
to see that country rise with renewed vigour to play once
more an independent part on the international stage.
This revival was due in the first place to the change of
dynasty. Another Hap.sburg would probably have con-
tinued the obsolete policy of his predecessors. The
accession of the Bourbons introduced into Spain the
methods and ideas of government which had raised France
to greatness under Richelieu, Mazarin, and Colbert. The
two great problems to be grappled with were the profound
depression of trade and agriculture and the fatal wealth
and ascendency of the church. Philip V., feeble as he
.■was personally, began the movement in advance even
[during the Succession War. The -abolition of the' old
Iprovincial independence rendered possible a more regular
'and centralized, government, an increase of the revenue,
and the removal of the old impediments to trade between
'the various provinces. The French officers who accom-
panied the king gave a new -organization and new tactics
to the Spanish army. Under the influence'of the princess
Orsini Philip seemed inclined to attack even the prescrip-
tive privileges of the clergy. His marriage with Elizabeth
'Farnese saved the hierarchy and diverted his attention to
wars of aggrandizement. But these wars were directed
by purely political motives ; the old Hapsburg idea of a
religious propaganda wa.1 for ever abandoned. And even
during the war the task of internal reform was hindered
rather than neglected. The efforts of Alberoni and
-Patiiio gave Spain a navy moro powerful than that of
Philip II. The conquest of the Two Sicilies and the
acquisition of Parma, though they brought little direct
advantage to Spain, yet gave conclusive evidence that the
old lethargy had been shaken off and that the country
(vas capable of exertions and sacrifices which had long
appeared impossible. The period of peace under Ferdi-
nand VI. was an inestimable boon to Spain. Taxation was
lightened, production was facilitated by the removal of the
most crashing burdens, yet at the same time the revenue
improved and the chronic deficit of previous reigns was
replaced by a surplus. And this jirinco took a ^ti'ii which
no one would have expected from him. The concordat of
1753 was tho first vindication of the political interests
,of Bpain against the pretensions of Rome. The > crown
a.sserted its right to appoint to all important benefices,
and tho number of papal presentations was reduced from
twelve thousand to fifty-two. The revenue derived V>y
the curia from Spain was proportionately diminished, and
the clergy were compelled to /ecognize their obligations as
members of the body politic. This measure was followed
by 'an edict that henceforth papal bulls should not be
obeyed until they had received the royal sanction.
The work of reform, thus tentatively commenced undei
Philip V. and Ferdinand VI., was carried still further by
Charles III., whose reign is regarded with more pride by
the Spaniards than any other since that of Philip II.
Charles had served an apprenticeship in the art of govern
ment in Naples, where, with the help of his' minister
Tanucci, he had successfully grappled with evils similar
to those from which Spain was suffering. He would
have been a prince quite after the heart of the 18th
century if he had not retained too large a share of the
superstition of his family. He shared to the full that
conception of the rights .and duties of monarchy which
inspired the reforms of Frederick the Great and Joseph
II., and his allegiance to the church was fortunately
counterbalanced by his desire for absolutism. His greatest
work, the expulsion of the Jesuits, would never have been
carried out if he had not been persuaded of its political
necessity. The order had already been driven by Pombal
from Portugal and by Choiseul from France, when Charles
III. was convinced that a riot in Madrid, provoked by tho
financial measures of Squillaci, had been promoted by the
Jesuits. This conviction overpowered ail scruples ; the
fathers were promptly removed from the country,, and
Spain joined the other Bourbon courts in demanding that
suppression of the order which was finally decreed by
Clement XIV. in 1773. The Rubicon once crossed,
Charles's ministers u'rged him on in the path of ecclesias-
tical reform. The increase of lands in mortmain was
restricted; the number of monasteries was diminished; and
the Inquisition was compelled to moderate its procedure
and to subordinate its independence to the royal will.
For the papal jurisdiction was substituted a national
court, the Hota, established at Madrid.
These measures, of which the importance in a country
like Spain can hardly be over-estimated, were accompanied
by others no less notable for tho development of trade and
agriculture. The colonial trade was freed from the old
restriction which compelled it to pass through Cadiz, and
other ports were opened for its reception. Native manu-
factures were encouraged in every way, and a famous
ordinance in 1773 endeavoured to remove the old pre-
judice against trade by declaring that the engaging in
industrial occupations should not involve any loss of rank
or its privileges. Internal communication was facilitated
by tho construction of canals. Agriculture was revived by;
the removal of the old prohibition against enclosures; —
so long maintained by the selfish influence of the Mesia,
— by the plant.tig.of trees in the arid deserts of central
Spain, and by the rapid growth of jwpulation, which rose
in the course of tho century from 5,700,000 to 10,541, O&O
These measures, which are only selected from a largo
number tending in the same direction, are to bo credited to.
three minister-s, whoso names reflect its chief lustre upon|
Charles III.'s reign. D'Aranda, who succeeded the Italian!
Squillaci as finance minister, was an Aragoneso noblo
who had imbibed the spirit of philosophical specuintion
from Franco. Ho was the first layman who presided in
the council of Castile, and ho introduced into tho Spanish
administration a liberal tendency quite opposed to tho
traditions of the country. His views, however, were not
congenial to the king, and, after completing his work with
regard to the Jesuits and the Inquisition, ho retired to thai
342
SPAIN
[history.
embassy in Paris and was succeeded by Campomanes.
The latter was not only a distinguished statesman but
also one of the foremost roiiresentatives of Spanish litera-
ture. He was one of the earliest students of political
• economy, and many of the most enlightened measures for
the relief and encouragement of trade are to be assigned
to hiu. But his administration, which aimed at educat-
ing the people to a share in political life, was almost as
alien to the wishes of Charles IIL as the liberal and anti-
clerici'l schemes of D'Aranda. A far more congenial
minister was found in Florida Blanca, whose aim was to
promote the material interests of Spain by the supervision
of au lit^rnal despotism, who stopped the attack on the
church wJien its subordination was secured, who supported
the economic reforms of Campomanes, but would only
carry them out by a rigid bureaucracy, and who conciliated
the king by falling in with his foreign policy even when
it conflicted with the national welfare.
Jferitorious as Charles III.'s reforms were, it would
give a false impression to represent them as completely
successful. The regeneration of Spain was by no means
accomplished, and many of the abuses which had been
growing for centuries survived tfce attempt to effect their
annihilation. One of the chief causes of this failure was
the corruption and ignorance of the lower officials. The
reforming impulse was confined to the educated classes,
and made little impression upon the bulk of the people.
It was of little use to devise the most enlightened
measures when there was no efficient machinery to carry
them out. Many of the most promising reforms remained
mere paper schemes. . The methods employed, too, were
not always the best calculated to obtain their end. |The
state took too much upon itself, and attempted to dis-
eharge functions which would have been better left to
local enterprise.' Koads were constructed on a magnificent
scale, but only too often in directions where they were
not wanted, and they remained almost unused. Thus the
debt was increased without any improvement of the
revenue. The return of Charles III. to a military policy
imposed serious burdens upon the country, and it would
have been better to have prolonged the peace of Ferdi-
tiand "VI.'s reign, inglorious as it appeared to an ambitious
king. Undoubtedly a great advance was made, but equal
exertions would have produced a greater result in any
other country. The population of Spain remained to a
great extent sunk in sloth and superstition. Much might
be hoped from a steady persistence in ameliorative
measures, but unfortunately the work of reform was
interrupted just at the moment when success appeared to
be within reach.
The death of Charles TIL and the accession of Charles
IV. were contemporary with the outbreak of the French
Revolution, which was destined to exercise a decisive
influence over the fortunes of the adjacent peninsula.
Florida Blanca, who continued to hold office during the
first three yeare of the new reign, found it impossible to
continue his policy. The revival of Spain could only be
effected by the restoration of its naval and colonial
ascendency at the expense of England, and for the carry-
ing out of this scheme the support of France was impera-
tively necessarj'.. But the French alliance rested upon the
relationship between the two branches of the house of
Bourbon, and the Family Compact ceased to exist when
Louis XVI. was deprived of power by his subjects. Of
this conclusive evidence was given in 1791. Some
English merchants founded a settlement at Nootka Sound
on the west coast of America, which provoked an indignant
protest from Spain. But the French national assembly
refused to send any assistance, and Florida Blanca was
compelled to conclude a humiliating treaty and to give up
all hope of opposing the progress of England. This failure
was attributed by the minister to the Revolution, of which
he became the uncompromising opponent. The reforms
of Charles III.'s reign were abandoned ; all liberal tend-
encies in Spain were suppressed ; and the Government set
itself to restore the old lethargy under absolute rule from
which the country had been gradually awakened. The
movement of reform had made so little progress among
the mass of the people that reaction was really easier than
progress. But Florida Blanca was not content with
suppressing liberalism in Spain ; he was eager to avenge
his disappointment by crushing the Revolution in France.
He opened negotiations with the emigrants, urged the
European powers to a crusade on behalf of legitimacy, and
paraded the devotion of Charles IV. to the head of his
family. This bellicose policy, however, brought him into
collision with the queen. Maria Louisa of Parma, a woman
whose real abilities were perverted to the gratification of
sensual lusts, was unwilling to allow the minister to share
her ascendency over the feeble mind of her husband, and
she feared that the outbreak of war would diminish the
revenues which she squandered in self-indulgence. She
had already removed from the ministry Campomanes and
other supporters of Florida Blanca, and had compelled the
latter to restrict himself to the single department of
foreign affairs. Early in 1792 she completed her task by
inducing Charles IV. to banish Florida Blanca to Murcia,
and his place was entrusted to the veteran D'Aranda. But
the new minister found that he held office only at the
favour of the queen, and that this had to be purchased by
a disgraceful servility to her paramour, Emanuel Godoy.
Spain withdrew from the projected coalition against
France, and sought to maintain an attitude of neutrality,
which alienated the other powers, while it failed to
conciliate the republic. The repressive measures of
Florida Blanca were withdrawn; society and the press
regained their freedom ; and no opposition was offered to
the propaganda of French ideas. D'Aranda's policy might
have been successful if it had been adopted earlier, but
the time for temporizing was now past, and it was
necessary for Spain to choose one side or the other. But
the decision was not allowed to rest with the man who had
always shown a sympathy with the revolutionary prin-
ciples. In November 1792 the queen felt herself strong
enough to carry out the scheme which she had been long
maturing. D'Aranda was dismissed, and the office of first
minister was entrusted to Godoy, who had recently
received the title of duke of Alcudia. Godoy, who was at
once the queen's lover and the personal favourite of the
king, had had no education for the part which he was
called upon to play. Though endowed with- a natural
quickness of parts and a capacity for intrigue, he had no
habits of application, no experience of the routine of office,
and above all no settled policy. His appointment was
regarded with jealousy by the grandees of Spain, while his
undisguised relations with the queen outraged the moral
feelings of the best part of the nation. Luckily for
Godoy, the course to be pursued was decided for him.
The execution of Louis XVI. (January 21, 1793) made a;
profound impression in a country where loyalty was a
superstition. Charles TV. was roused to demand ven-
geance for the insult to his family, and from one end of
Spain to the other a cry resounded for immediate war with
the impious rebels who had shed the blood of an anointed
king. Godoy had nothing to do but to follow the national
impulse, and Spain became a member of the first coalition
against France. Everything seemed to promise a rapid
and complete success. The number of volunteers who
offered their services rendered conscription unnecessary;
and the southern provinces of France were so preponder-
CHARLES IV.J
SPAIN
34;^
atingly royalist that they were ready to welcome the
Spaniards as deliverers. These advantages, however, were
nullified by the sharaefu] incompetence and carelessness of
the Government. The troops were left without supplies ;
no plan of combined action was imposed upon the com-
manders ; and each regiment was left to act of its own wilL
The military action of Spain provoked the contempt of
Em-ope. The two campaigns of 1793 and 1794: were one
long catalogue of failures.. The bravery of the soldiers
was rendered useless by the incapacity of their officers, and
the maladministration of the central Government excited
such disgust that' an outbreak of revolutionary disturbance
in Spain itself seemed more than possible. Instead of
reducing the southern provinces of France, the Spaniards
were driven fi'Om the strong fortresses that guarded the
Pyrenees, and the French advanced almost to the Ebro.
And at the same time the English, the hated rivals of
Spain, were utilizing the war to extend their colonial
power and were establishing more firmly that maritime
supremacy which the Spanish Government had been
struggling for almost a century to overthrow. Under the
circumstances it is no wonder that the queen and Godoy
hastened to foil6v~ th<» examole set by Prussia, and
concluded the treaty of "Basel with France. The terms
were unexpectedly favourable. Spain purchased the
evacuation of her territories and fortresses by the cession.
of her share of St Domingo, which had little but a
sentimental value as the first discovery of Columbus, and
which had already been occupied by the English. So
great was the joy excited fn Madrid that popular acda-
aiation greeted the bestowal upon Godoy of the title of
"/Prince of the Peace." But the moderation of the treaty
was only a flimsy disguise of the disgrace that it involved.
Spi,in found herself tied hand and foot to the French
republic. Godoy had to satisfy his allies by the encourage-
ment of reforms which both ho' and his mistress loathed,
and in 1796 the veil was removed by the conclusion of
the treaty of San Ildefonso. This was a virtual renewal
of the Family Compact of 1761, but with far more dis-
advantageous terms to Spain. Each power was pledged
to assist the other in case of war with twenty-five ships,
18,000 infantry, and 6000 cavalry. The real object of the
treaty, which was to involve Spain in the war against
England, was cynically avowed in the eighteenth article,
by which, during the present war, the Spanish obliga-
tions were only to apply to the quarrel between England
*nd France. A scheme was prepared for a joint
attack. on the English coast, but it was foiled by the
battle of St Vincent, in which Jervis and Nelson forced
the Spanish fleet to retire to Cadiz. This defeat was
the more di.sastrou3 because it cut o2 the connexion
with the colonics and thus deprived Spain of the revenues
derived from that quarter. The finances, already exhausted
by extravagance and maladministration, were in no con-
•dition to meet the expenses of a naval war. England
seized the oppoltunity to punish Spain for its conduct in
the American War by tncouta^pg discontent in tho
Spanish colonies, and in the Peninsula itself both nobles
and people were bitterly liostilo to the queen and her
favourite. It was in vain that Gudo^ sought to secure
the friendship of the reforming party by giving office
to two of its moat prodi.'n"' t members, JovclLxnos and
Saavedra. Spanish pride and bigotry were cffeuded by
tho French occupation uf Vx-me nnd tlie' erection of a
republic in tho place of the papal government. The
treatment of tho duke of I'urma by the Director/ wa*
keenly resented by the queen. Godoy found himself
between two parties, tho liberals and the ultramontancs,
mho agreed only in hatred of him.'iolf. At the same time
the Directory, whosa mistrust was excited by liis attitude
in the question oi Parma, insisted upon his dismissal.
Charles IV. could not venture td refuse a demand from
France ; the queen was alienated by Godoy's notorious
infidelities; and in ilarch 1798 he was compelled to resign
his office. But he did not forfeit his hold on the king's
favour, and he only waited for a favourable opportunity
to emerge from his retirement.
Godoy's office was entrusted to Saaredra, but the
reformers did not obtain the advantages which they
expected from' the change. Jovellanos was compelled in
August to retire on account of ill-health,^the result, it wbjs
rumoured, of attempts on the part of his opponents to
poison him. His place was taken by Caballero, an ardent
opponent of reform, who restored all the abuses of the old
bureaucratic admini.'.tration and pandered to the most
bigoted prejudices of tho clergy and the court. The
ministry was hopelessly divided, and the policy of the
country w'as directed by the basest and most paltry
intrigues. The only advantage which Spain .enjoyed at
this period was comparative independence of France.
The military plans of the Directory were unsuccessful
during the absence of their greatest general in Egypt, and
the second coalition gained successes in 1799 which had
seemed impossible since 1793. But the return of Bona-
parte, followed as it was by the fall of the Directory and
the establishment of the Consulate, commenced a ne\^
epch for Spain. As soon as the First Consul had time
to turn his attention to the Peninsula, he determined to
restore Godoy, who had already regained the affection oi,
the queen, and to make him the tool of his policy. Maria
Louisa was easily gained over by playing on her devotion
to the house of Parma, and on October 1, 1800, a secret
treaty was concluded at San Ildefonso. Spain undertook
to cede Louisiana and tc J.:d France in all her wars, while
Bonaparte promised to raise the duke of Parma to th^
rank of king and to increase his territories by the addition
either of Tuscany or of tho Roman Legations. This was
followed by Godoy's return to power, though he left the
department of foreign, affairs to a subordinate. Spain
was now more servile to France than ever find, id 1801
was compelled to attack Portugal in the French interests.
Bonaparte was indignant against Portugal, partly because
its fleet had aided his enemies in Egypt, and partly
because its harbours offered great naval advantages to the
English. The Spanish invasion, which was commanded
by Godoy in person, met with no resistance, and the
prince ventured to conclude a peaco> on his own authority
by which Portugal promised to observe a strict neutrality
on condition that its territories were left undiminished.
But Bonaparte resented this show of independence, and
compelled Charles IV. to refuse his ratification of the
treaty. Portugal had to submit to far harsher terms, and
could only purchase peace by the cession of territory in
Guiana, by a disadvantageous treaty of commerce, and by
a payment of twenty-five millions of francs. This insult
to his ally Bonajiarte followed up by others. In the
preliminary treaty with England he cedpd the Spanish
colony of Trinidad without even consulting tho court of
Jladrici, while he sold Louisiana to the United States in
spite of his promise not to alienate it except to Spain.
For thcso humiliations Spain had to console itself with
tho empty honour of being the first signatory of tho treaty
of Amiens.
I'or nearly three years Spain was allowed to remain at
peace, vlts finances were ]iartially revived by the restora-
tion of free intercourse with the colonics and by tho pay-
ment of tho supplies which had been withheld for tho last
six years. But tho administration was as incompetent
and misdirected as ever. Godoy, since bis return to oflicc,
had abandoned all connexion with tho reforming party
844
SPAIN
^HialOKY.
and had- thrown himself into the reactionary policy of
Caballero. The Spanish church was once more placed in
strict subjection to the Roman see, from which for a short
time it had been freed. But the worst evil lay in the
undisguised domination of France, which the Government
was wholly incapable of shaking off. As soon as Bona-
parte saw himself involved in a new war with England,
he turned to Spain for assistance and extorted a new
treaty (October 9, 1803), which was still more burdensome
than that of 1796. Spain had to pay a monthly subsidy
cf six million francs, and to pledge itself to enforce a strict
neutrality upon Portugal. Thus the country was involved
in a new and still more disastrous war with England.
The last remnants of its maritime power were shattered
in the battles of Cape Finisterre and Trafalgar, and the
English seized Buenos Ayres. The popular hatred of
Godoy was roused to passion by these disasters, and many
competent observers believed that Spain stood on the
brink of revolution. At the head of the opposition was
the crown prince Ferdinand, as insignificant as his rival,
but endowed with all good qualities by the credulous
favour of the people. To maintain himself against his
domestic enemies Godoy turned to France, where Bona-
parte, now the emperor Napoleon I., was irritated by the
crown prince's marriage with a daughter of the king of
Naples. The court quarrels at Madrid were fomented
from Paris in order to complete the subordination of
Spain. Napoleon was at this time eager to humble Eng-
land by excluding it from all trade ,^ith Europe. The
only country which had not accepted his "continental
system " was Portugal, and he determined to reduce that
kingdom by force. It was not difficult to bribe Godoy,
■who was conscious that his position could not be main-
tained after the death of Charles IV. In October 1807
Spain accepted the treaty of Fontainebleau, which
arranged a partition of Portugal into three parts. The
northern provinces were to be given to the young king of
Etruria, who was to purchase them by the cession of
Tuscany. In the south a principality was to be carved
out for Godoy himself. The central district was to be
kept in pledge by.Erance until the conclusion of a general
peace. The treaty was hardly concluded when a French
army under Junot marched through Spain to Portugal,
and the royal family of that country fled to Brazil. But
Spain was destined to share the same fate as its neigh-
bour. The crown prince, whose wife had died in 1806,
determined to imitate hia "rival by biddiiig for French
support. He entered idto secret relations with Beauhar-
nais. Napoleon's envoy at'Madrid, and went so far as to
demand the hand of a Bonaparte princess. Godoy, who
discovered the intrigue, induced Charles IV. to order his
son's arrest. Napoleon at once seized the opportunity to
moke himself absolute master of Spain, and ordered
French troops to cross the Pyrenees in support of the
prince. This act terrified Godoy into a reconciliation
with his opponents, but the French invasion was not
delayed by the removal of its pretext. Charles TV. and
his minister, conscious that they could expect no support
from the people, determined on flight. The news of this
intention, however, excited a popular rising in Madrid, and
the king was compelled to abdicate in favour of his son
Murat, however, who commanded the French, refused to
be turned aside by this change of circumstances. He
obtained from Charles IV. a declaration that his abdica-
tion had been involuntary, and occupied Madrid (March
23, 1808). Meanwhile Napoleon advanced to the frontier,
and Ferdinand was lured by French agents to an interview
with the emperor at Bayonne. There he was confronted
with his parents and Godoy, and was intimidated into
restoring the crown to his father, who at once made ft
second abdication. Napoleon now divrfiged the real inten
tion of his actions, and the crown of Spain was formally
conferred upon his brother Joseph Bonaparte, who tw»
years before had been made king of Naples.
But Spanish loyalty was too profound to be daunted
even by the awe-inspiring power of the French emperor.
For the first time Napoleon found himself confronted, not
by terrified and selfish rulers, but by an infuriated people.'
The rising in Spain commenced the jropular movement
which ultimately proved fatal to his power. At first he'
treated the novel phenomenon with contempt, and thought
it sufficient to send his less prominent generals against
the rebels. Sladrid was taken without difficulty, but the
capital was absolutely devoid of military importance, and
the Spaniards showed great capacity for the guerilla
warfare in the provinces. The French were repulsed from
Valencia ; and Dupont, who had advanced into the heart
of Andalusia, was compelled to retreat and- iiltimately to
capitulate with all his forces at Baylen (July 10). The
Spaniards now advanced upon Madrid and drove Joseph
from the capital, which he had just entered. Unfortun-
ately the insurgents displayed less political ability than
military courage. The government was entrusted in
Ferdinand's name to a central junta of thirty-four members,
a number which was far too large for the conduct of
executive business. Napoleon's arrival in Spain was
enough to restore victory to the French. In less than a
week the Spanish army was broken through and scattered
and Napoleon restored his brother in JIadrid. Sir John
Moore, who had advanced vrith an English army to the
relief of the capital, retired when he found he was too late,
and an obstinate battle, in which the gallant general lost
his life, had to be fought before the troops could secure
their embarkation at Corufia. Napoleon, 'thinking the
work accomplished, had quitted the Peninsula, and Soult
and Victor were left to complete the reduction of the
provinces. The capture of Seville resulted in the dis-
solution of the central junta, and the Peninsula was only
saved from final submission by the obstinate resistance ef
Wellington in Portugal and by dissensions among the
French. The marshals were jealous of each other, and
Napoleon's plans were not approved by his brother.
Joseph wished to restore peace and order among his
subjects in the hope of ruling an independent nation,
while .Napoleon was determined to annex Spaiti to his own
overgrown empire. So far did these disputes go that
Joseph resigned his crown, and was with difficulty induced
to resume it. Meanwhile Cadiz became the capital of
what was left of independent Spain, and there the cortes
met in 1810 for the purpose of drawing up a new
constitution. The fall of the old monarchy and the
exigencies of self-defence had given to the reforming party
an ascendency which they had never before possessed. In
the constitution which was promulgated early in-4812 the
principles of the French constituent assembly were closely
followed. The Inquisition had already perished, and the
last relics of the old autocratic government shared its fate.
Supreme legislative power was placed in the hands of a
single national assemWy, and effective checks were devised
to restrict the power of the monarchy whenever it should
be revived. The freedom of the press was established, and
the property of the clergy was confiscated to defray the
expenses of the war. The great defect of the constitution
was that.it was the work of one party, to which circum
stances had given a temporary supremacy, and it failed to
command the support of the united nation. The nobles
and priests were bitterly hostile, and the latter had more
influence in Spain than in any European country except
Ireland.
The restoration of Spanish independence could hardly
igTH CENTDBr.]
SPAIN
345
Lave been accomiilisbed without the assistance of England.
,Wellington bad already made two attempts to advance
from Portugal into the adjacent kingdom, but had been
foiled by superior forces. In 1812 he determined on a
great effort. He secured his base of operations by the
capture of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz, and at Salamanca
Le completely routed the opposing army of Marmont.
This victory enabled the English general to enter Madrid
(August 12), and Jospph retreated to Valencia. But
further advance was prevented by the concentration of
the French forces in the east, and Wellington found it
advisable to retire for the third time to winter-quarters on
the Portuguese frontier. It was during this winter that
Napoleon suffered his first and greatest reverse in the
retreat from Moscow and the destruction of his grand
army. This was the signal for the outbreak of the " war
of liberation " in Germany, and French troops had to be
withdrawn from Spain to central Europe. For the first
time Wellington found himself opposed by fairly equal
forces. In the spring of 181.3 he advanced from Ciudad
Rodrigo and defeated Jourdan at Vittoria, the battle
which finally decided the Peninsular War. Joseph retired
altogether from his kingdom, and Wellington, eager to
take his part in the great European contest, fought his
way through 'the Pyrenees into France. Napoleon, who
had suffered a crushing defeat at Leipsic, hastened to
recognize the impossibility of retaining Spain by releasing
Ferdinand VII., who returned to Madrid in March 1814.
After the convulsions it had endured Spain required a
peiiod of firm but conciliatory government, but the ill-fate
of the country gave the throne at this crisis to the worst
of her Bourbon kings. Ferdinand VII. had never pos-
sessed the good qualities which popular credulity had
assigned to him, and he had learnt nothing in his four
lycars' saptivity except an aptitude for lying and intrigue.
He had no conception of the duties of a ruler ; his public
conduct was regulated by pride and superst''ion, and his
private life was stained by the grossest sensual indulgence.
Spain was still governed under the constitution of 1812,
but the king's first act was to dissolve the cortes and to
abrogate the constitution, promising, however, to grant a
new one in its place. But no sooner was he established on
the throne, and conscious of the strong reaction m favour
of the monarchy, than ho threw his promises to the wind
and set hitaself to restore the old absolutism with all its
worst abuses. The nobles recovered their privileges and
their exemption from taxes; the monasteries were restored;
the Inquisition resumed its activity ; and the Jesuits
returned to Spain. Ths liberals were ruthlessly per-
secuted, together with all who had acknowledged Joseph
Bonaparte. A camarilla of worthle.ss courtiers and priests
conducted the eovernment, and urged the king to fresh
acts of revolutionary violence. For six years Spain
groaned under ii royalist " reign of terror," and isolated
revoltb only served as the occasion for fresh cruelties.
The finances wore squandered in futile expeditions to
recover the South American colonies, which had taken
advantage of Napoleon's conquest of Spain to establish
their independence. In his straits for money Ferdinand
ventured to outrage national sentiment by selling Florida
to the United States in 1819. Discontent found expres-
sion in the formation of secret societies, which were
especially powerful among the neglected and ill[)aid
soldiers. At last, in 1820, Riego and Quiroga, two
officers of an expedition which had been prepared for
South America, raised the standard of revolt in Cadiz.
Ferdinand and his advisers proved as incapable as they
[Were tyrannical, and their feeble irresolution enabled the
movement to spread over the whole country. In March
the king gave way and accepted the constitution of 1812.
22-1 1'
The royalists or servtles, as they were called, were dismissea
from otBce and their places taken by liberals. The cortes
met in July, and at once proceeded to dissolve the
monasteries and the Inquisition, to confiscate the clerical
tithes, to abolish entails, and to secure the freedom of the
press and of popular meetings. Great results might have
been achieved if the mode'rate party, under Martinez de la
Rosa, had been able to grapple with the task of suppress-
ing disorder and establishing a permanent constitution.
But this was the last thing which the king desired, and
the moderates were defeated by a factious combination of
the serviles and the radicals. - Risings took place among
the loyal and bigoted peasants of the provinces, and their
suppression contributed to the victory of the extreme
party, which seemed to be secured in 1822 by the election
of Riego as president of the cortes.
But Spain was not allowed to work out its own salva^
tion. Europe was dominated at this time by the Holy
Alliance,.which disguised a resolution to repress popular
liberties and to maintain despotism under a pretended
zeal for piety, justice, and brotherly love. At the con-
gress of Verona (October 1822) France, Austria, Russia,
and Prussia agreed upon armed intervention in Spain, in
spite of the protest of Canning on the part of England.
Spain was to be called upon to alter her constitution and
to f^rant greater liberty to the king, and if ah unsatis-
factory answer were received France was authorized to
take active measures. The demand was unhesitatingly
refused, and a French army, 100,000 strong, at once
entered Spain under the duke of Angouleme (Aprill823).
No effective resistance was made, and Madrid was entered
by the invaders (May 23). The cortes, however, had
carried off the king to Seville, whence they again retreated
to Cadiz. The bombardment of that city terminated the
revolution and Ferdinand was released (October 1). His.
first act was to revoke everything that had been done,
since 1819. The Inquisition was not restored, but the
secular tribunals took a terrible revenge upon the leaders
of the rebelUon. The protest of the duke of Angouleme
against these cruelties was unheeded. Even the fear of
revolt, the last check upon despotism, was removed by tho
presence of the French army, which remained in Spain
till 1827. But Spain had to pay lor the restoration of
the royal absolutism, as Canning backed up his protest
against tho intervention of France by acknowledging the
independence of the Spanish colonies.
Ferdinand VII. was enabled to finish his w-orthless and
disastrous reign in comparative peace. In 1829 he
married a fourth wife, Maria Christina of Naples, and at
the same time he issued a " Pragmatic Sanction " abol-
ishing the Salic law in Spain. No one expected any
practical results from this edict, but a formal protest was
made against it by the king's brothers, Carlos and
Francisco, and also by tho French and Neapolitan Bour-
bons. In the next year, however, the queen gave birth
to a daughter, Isabella, who was proclaimed as queen on
her father's death in 1833, while her mother undertook
tho oltlce of regent. Don Carlos at once asserted his
intention of maintaining the Salic law, and rallied round
him all the supporters of absolutism, especially the inhab-
itants of tho Basque Provinces. Christina was compellcdi
to rely upon tho liberals, and to conciliate them by tho'
grant of a constitution, the eslatuto real, which established
two chambers chosen by indirect election. But this conJ
stitution, drawn up under tho influence of Louis Philippe
of Franco, failed to .satisfy tho advanced liberal.^ and tha^
Christines split into two parties, the 7no(lcra<los and pro-
grcsis/as. In 1836 the latter party extorted from tho
regent the revival of tho constitution of 1812. Al' this
time tho Government was involved in a desporato strugglft
346
SPAIN
[languaoK
witli the Carlists, wlio at first gained considerable successes
under Zumalacarregui and Cabrera. But tlio death of
Zumalacarrcgui in 1835 and the support of France and
England ultimately gave the regent the upper hand, and
in 1839 her general, Espartero, forced the Basque Pro-
vinces to submit to Isabella. .Don Carlos renounced his
claims in favour of his eldest son, another Carlos, and
retired to Trieste, where he died in 1855. Christina now
tried to sever herself from the progresistas, and to govern
with the help of the moderate party who enjoyed the
patronage of Louis Philippe. But England, jealous of
French influence at Madrid, threw the weight of her in-
fluence on to the side of the radicals, who found a powerful
leader in Esiiartero. In 1840 Christina had to retire to
France, and Espartero was recognized as regent by the
cortes. But his elevation was resented by the other
officers, while his subservience to England made him un-
popular, and in 18-13 he also had to go into exile. Isabella
was now declared of age. Chrictina returned to Madrid,
and the moderados under Narvaez obtained complete control
over the government Tliis was a great victory for France,
and Louis Philippe abused his success by negotiating the
infamous " Spanish marriages." A husband was found for
Isabella in her cousin, Francis of Assis, whose recommenda-
tion in French eyes was the improbability of his begetting
children. On the same day the queen's sister, JIaria Louisa,
was married to Louis Philippe's son, the duke of !Mont-
pensier. By this means it was hoped to secure the reversion
of the .Spanish throne for the house of Orleans. The schen>er
recoiled on the heads of those who framed it. The aliena-
tion of England gave a fatal impulse to the fall of Louis
Philippe, while the subsequent birth of children to Isabella
deprived the Montpensier marriage of all importance.
Spanish history during the reign, of Isabella IL presents
a dismal picture of faction and intrigue. The queen
herself sought compensation for her unhappy marriage in
sensual indulgence, and tried to cover the dissoluteness of
her private life by a superstitious devotion to religion and
by throwing her influence on to the side of the" clerical
and reactionary party. Every now and then the progre-
sistas and moderados forced themselves into oflSce, but
their mutual jealousy prevented them from acquiring any
permanent hold upon the government. In 1866 Isabella
was induced to take vigorous measures against the liberal
opposition. Narvaez was appointed chief minister; and
the most prominent liberals, Serrano, Prim, and O'Donnell,
had to seek safety in exile. The cortes were dissolved,
and many of the deputies were transported to the Canary
Islands. The ascendency of the court party was main-
tained by a rigorous persecution, which was continued
after Narvaez's death (April 1868) by Gonzales Bravo.
Common dangers succeeded at last in combining the
various sections. of the liberals for miitual defence, and
the people, disgusted by the scandals of the court and the
contemptible camarilla which surrounded the queen,
rallied to their side. In September 1868 Serrano and
Prim returned to Spain, where they raised the standard
of revolt and offered the people the bribe of unirersal
suffrage. The revolution was speedily accomplished-, an<J
Isabella fled to France, but the successful rebels were at
once confronted with the difficulty of finding a successor
for her. During the interregnum Serrano undertook the
regency, and the coi-tes drew up a new constitution, by
which an hereditary king was to rule in conjunction with a
senate and a popular chamber. As no ono of the Bourbott
candidates for the throne was acceptable, it became neces-
sary to look round for some foreign prince. The offer of
the crown to Leopold of HohenzoUcrn-Sigmavingen excited
the jealousy of France, and gave Napoleon III, the oppor-
tunity of picking a quarrel, which proved fatal to himself,
with the rising state of Prussia. At last a king was found.
(1870) in Amadous of Aosta, the .second son of Victor Em-
manuel, who made an honest effort to discharge the diffi-
cult office of a constitutional king in a country which was
hardly fitted for constitutional government. But he found
the task too hard and too distasteful, and resigned in
1873. A i)rovisional republic was now formed, of which
Castelar was the guiding spirit. But the Spaniards, trained
to regard monarchy with superstitious reverence, had no
sympathy with republican institutions. Don Carlos seized
the opportunity to revive the claim of inalienable male
succession, and raised the standard of revolt in the Basque
Provinces, where his name was still a power. The dis-
orders of the democrats and the approach of civil war
threw the responsibility of government upon the army.
The cortes were dissolved by a military covp d'etat;
Castelar threw up his office in disgust; and the administra-
tion was undertaken by a committee of officers. Anarchy
was suppressed with a strong hand, but it was obvioua
that order could only be restored by reviving the monarchy.
Foreign princes were no longer thought of, and the crown
was offered to and accepted by Alfonso XII., the young Alfooar
son of the exiled Isabella. (1874). His first task was to XIL
terminate the Carlist War, which still continued in the
north, and this was successfully accomplished in 1876.
Time was required to restore the prosperity of Spain under
a peaceful and orderly government and to consolidate
by prescription the authority of the restored dynasty.
Unfortunately a premature death carried off Alfonso XU.
in 1885, before he could complete the work wliich circum-
stances laid upon him. The regency was entrusted to his
widow, Christina of Austria, and the birth of a post-
humous son (May 17, 1886), who is now the titular king
of Spain, has excited a feeling of pitying loyalty which
may help to secure the Bourbon dynasty in the last
kingdom which is left to it.
ZiVtra^t/re.— Lafnente. Ilistoria Ceneral de Espaiia ; Orfiz, CoTrtpendio General
de la I/istoria de Fspaiia; 5taiinii:i, llntoria Gnietnt de J-:^i>nuu (coTit. from
lol6 to ICOO by Jlinana) ; Disunncaiix, Abrege Clmmoliaitqjie de rUisloire
d'Espagne. Fur sllorter Jieviocls sec riescott, Ferdinand av'd /saMla; liaum-
pailen, CevhicUe Karls V. (flie fir>t volume, tlic only ono which has npitaied
contains tlie best account of tlie rising of tlic communes) ; I'rescott, Jliftory ot
nUip II. ; Foineron, lHHoire de PluHppe II.-. Weiss. VLsparjtie drptih
Philippe II. \ Kanke. I}ie Osmanen vnd die Upanis^che Movarchie ; Mignct, ^'ego-
Ciations relatives a la Succexxiort d E^pagnesous Louis A'/ V. ; Ui])pcau, An'nemiiit
des, Bovrbom ait trine d'Espagne: Coxc. ilemnirs of tlie Kings of fSpain of the
Itovse of Bourbon; UanmEarten. Geschidite Spanien's vom Aiis'bnich der franzos.
Revolution ; Lauser, Gescliirhte Spaniens ron dem !Styrz Isabellas. (li. L.)
PAET in.— LANGUAGE.
The Iberian Peninsula is not a linguistic unity. Not to
speak of the Basque, which still forms an island of some
importance in the north-west, three Eomance languages
share this extensive territory :—(l) Portuguese-Galician,
spoken in Portugal, Galicia, and a small portion of the
province of Leon : (2) Castilian, covering about two-thirds
of the Peninsula in the north, centre, and south; (3)
Catalan, occupying a long strip of territory to the east
end south-east.
These three varieties of the Romana limtica are marked
off from one another much more distinctly than is tho
case with, say, the Eomance dialects of Italy ; they do not
interpenetrate one another, but where the one ends the
other begins. It has only been possible to establish at
the points of junction of two'linguistic regions the exist-
ence of certain mixed jargons in which certain forms of
each language are intermingled; but these jargons,
called into existence for the necessities of social relations
by bilinguists, have an essentially individualistic and
artificial character. The special development of the vulgar
riATAlAN.j
SPAIN
347
Latin tougue in Spain, and the formation of the three
linguistic types just enumerated, were promoted by the
peculiar political circumstances. From the 9th century
onwardi Spain was slowly recaptured from the j\Ioham-
medane, and the Latin spoken by the Christians who had
taken refuge on the slopes of the Pyrenees was slowly
carried back to the centre and ultimately to the south of
the Peninsula, whence' it had been driven by the Arab
•invasion. Mediseval Spain divides itself into three con-
quisl/is — that of Castile (much the most- considerable),
that of Portugal, and that of Aragon ; and to these three
political conquests correspond an equal number of linguistic
varieties. If a given province now speaks Catalan rather
than Castilian, the explanation is to be sought simply and
solely in the fact that' it was conquered by a king of
Aragon and peopled by his Catalan subjects.
1. Catalan. — This domain now embraces, on the main-
land, the Spanish provinces of Geroua, Barcelona, Tarragona,
and Lerida (the old principality of Catalonia), atid of Cas-
tellou de la Plana, Valencia, and Alicante (the old kingdom
of Valencia), and, in the Mediterranean, that of the Balearic
Islands (the old kingdom of Majorca). Catalan, by its
most characteristic features, belongs to the Romance of
southern France and not to that of Spain; it is' legitimate,
therefore, to regard it as imported into Spain by those
Hispani whom the Arab conquest had driven back beyond
the mountains into Languedoc, and who in the 9th century
regained the country. of their origin; this conclusion is
confirmed by the fact that the dialect is also that of two
French provinces on the north of the Pyrenees — Koussillon
and Cerdagne. From the 9th to the 12th century Catalan
spread further and further within the limits of Catalonia,
properly so called ; in 1229 It was brought to Majofca by
Jaime el Conquistador, and in 1238 the same sovereign
carried it to Valencia also. Even Murcia was peopled by
Catalans in 12G6, but this province really is part of the
Castilian conquest, and accordingly the Castilian element
took the upper hand and absorbed the dialect of the earlier
colonists. The river Segura, which falls into the Mediter-
ranean in the neighbourhood of Orihuela, a little to the
north of Murcia, is as nearly as possible the southern
boundary of the Catalan domain ; westward the boundary
coincides pretty exactly with the political frontier, the
provinces of New Castile and Aragon not being at all
encroached on. Catalan, which by the reunion of Aragon
and the countship of Barcelona in 1137 became the olTicial
language of the Aragonese monarchy, — although the king-
dom of Aragon, consisting of the present provinces of
Saragossa, Huesca, and Teruel, has always been Castilian
in speech, — established a footing in Italy also, in all parts
where the domination of the kings of Aragon extended,
viz., in Sicily, Naples, Corsica, and Sardinia, but it has
not maintained itself there in modern times except in a
single district of the last-named island (Alghero) ; every-
where else in Italy, .where it was not. spoken except by
the conquerors, nor written except in the royal chancery, it
has disappeared without leaving a trace.
From the 13th century the name given to the vulgar
torguo of eastern Spain has been Catalaiusch (Cata-
laniscus) or Catald (Calalanus), — the idiom of the Cata-
lans.i By Catalanesch or Catalil was understood, essen-
tially, the spoken language and the language of prose,
while that of poetry, with a large admixture of Proven(;al
forms, was early called Lemosi, Limosi, or language of
Limousin, — Catalan grammarians, and particularly the
most celebrated of them, Ramon Vidal de Besahi, having
adopted Lemosi as the generic name of the language of
the troubadours. ■ These grammarians carefully distinguish
the vulgar speech, or pla Catald, from the refined trobar
' The origiu of the name Catalanus is unknown
idiom rthich oriiginally is simply a more oi less modified
form of Pi-ovenijal. Afterwards, and especially in thesi
parts of the Cntalan domain outside of Catalnuia whicl
did not care to acknowledge that they derived theii
language from that province, Lemosi received a mor(
extensive signification, so as to mean the literary languagi
in Jjcneral, whetLei of verse or of prose. To this hour
particularly in Valencia and the Balcarics, Liinosi is cm
ployed to designate on the one hand the old Catalan anc
on the other the very artificial and somewhat archaizing
idiom which is current in the " jochs florals"; while the
spoken dialect is called, . according to the localities,
Valewid (in Valencia), JIaJorijiii and Menorqui (in Majorca
and Minorca), or Cuiald (in Catalonia); the form Cnln-
lancsch is 'obsolete.
The princijial features which connect Catalan with the
Romance of France and separate it from that of Spain are
the following. (1) To take first its treatment of the final
vowels, — Catalan, like Fr-cnch and Provencal, having only
oxytones and paroxytones, does not tolerate more than one
syllable after the tonic accent : thus anima gives cn-ina,
camera gives camhra. All the proparo.xytones of modern
Catalan are of recent introduction and due to Castilian
influence. Further, the only post-tonic Latin vowel pre-
served by the Catalan is, as in Gallo-Eoraan, a :, mart
gives M<H', gratu{s) gives r/iat, but anima gives urma ; and,
when the word terminates in a group of consonants requir-
ing a supporting vowel, that vowel is represented by an e :
arb{o)rem, Cat. ahre (Prov. and Fr. arbre, but Cast, drbol);
pop{u)l{us), Cat. jyoUe (Prov. poUe, Fr. 2^^upt(, but Cast.
pueblo) ; sometimes, when it is inserted between the
two consonants instead of being made to follow them,
the supporting vowel is rejjresonted by an o : escdndol
(scAndalum), /reyo/ (frivolus), circol (circulus). In
some cases a post-tonic vowel other than a is preserved
in Catalan, as, for example, when that vowel forms a
diphthong with the tonic (i'w, Deus; Ebvin, Hebrous);
or, again, it sometimes happens, when the tonic is followeo.
by an i in hiatus, that the i persists (diltlvi, diluvium-;
iervici, servicium ; tdbi, lAbiura; ciii, cereus) ; but in
many cases these ought to be regarded as learned forms, as
is shown by the existence of parallel ones, such as mriet/,
where the atonic i has been attracted by the tonic and
forms a diphthong ■with it (servici, servii, servey). What
has just been said as to the treatment of the final vowels
in Catalan must be understood as applying only to pure
Catalan, unaltered by the predominance of the Castilian, for
the actual language is no longer faithful to the principle wa
have laid down ; it allows the final o atonic in a number
of substantives and adjectives, and in the verb it now con-
jugates canto, temo, sento, — a thing unknown in the ancient
language. (2) As regards conjugation, only two points
need be taken up here : — (a) it employs the form known
as the inchoative, that is to say, the lengthening of the
radical of the present in verbs of the third conjugation by
means of the syllable ex- or i.r, a proceeding common to
Italian, Walachian, Provencal, and French, but altogether
unknown in Hispanic Romance ; (i) the formation of a
great number of past participles in which the termination
is added, as in Provcmjal, not to the radical of the verb,
but to that of the perfect : (tn</K< formed from tiiich, por/ut
from poch, conegut from conceit, while Castilian says tcnido
(formerly also tenudo), podido, cvnucido, that is to say, it
forms those participles from the infinitive.
As for features common alike to' Catalan and Hispanic
(Castilian and Portuguese) Romance, on the other hand,
and which are unknown to French Romance, there is only
one which possesses any importance, the conservation,
namely, of the Latin n with its original sound, while the
same vowel has assumed in French and Provencal, from o
348
SPAIN
fLANQUAQA
Very early'- period, — earlier doubtless than the oldest exist-
ing monuments of those languages, — a labio-palatal pro-
nunciation (u). It is not to be supposed that the separa-
tion of Catalan from the Gallo-Eoman family should have
occurred before the transformation had taken place ; there
is good reason to believe that Catalan possessed the ii at
one time, but afterwards lost it in its contact with the
Spanish dialects. The question, however, is one for
further examination.
Catalan being a variety of the langue doc, it will be
convenient to note the peculiarities of its phonetic and
inflexion as compared with ordinary ProveDgal.
Tonic Vmods. — With regard to a, which is pronounced alike in
open and close syllables {amar, amare ; abre, arbor), there is
nothing to remark. The Latin e, which is treated like I, gives e,
Bometimes close, sometimes open. On this point Catalan is more
hesitating than Provencal ; it does not distinguish so clearly the
pronunciation of c according to its origin ; while e-^s) is capable of
yielding an open e, the f is offeu pronounced close, and the poets
have no difficulty in making words in e close and in c open rhyme
together, which is not the case in Proven9al. The Latin i never
yields ic iu Catalan as it does in French and occasionally in Pro-
ven9al: sedet becomes scu (where u represents the final d), pedem
makes pen,, and ego cu ; in some words where the tonic ? is followed
by a svllable in which an i occurs, it may become i {ir, heri ; m?(7,
medius; jnils, melius); and the same holds good for e in a similar
situation {ciri, cerius, cereus; fira, feria), and for c in a close
syllable before a nasal {eximpK, exemplum; mintri for maitiri,
fjint for geiil). /tonic longand i short, when in hiatus with another
vowel, produce i {ainich, amicus ; via, via). 0 tonic long and o
short are represented by o close and o open {amor, amorem ; poble,
populus). 0 short is never diphthongized into uo or uc ; such a
treatment is as foreign to Catalan as the diphthongization of ? into
ie. Just as c before a syllable in which an i occurs is changed into
t, so in the same circumstances o becomes u {full, folium ; vull,
volio for Toleo) and also when the accented vowel precedes a
group of consonants liks cl,pl, and the like {ull, oc'lus; cscull,
Bcop'lus). Latin u persists with the Latin pronunciation, and, as
already said, does not take the Franco-Provenjal pronunciation ii.
Latin au becomes o (coot, causa; or, aurum); Old Catalan has
Tcept the diphthong better, but possibly we should attribute the
examples of au which are met with in texts of the 13th and 14th
icenturies to the literary influence of Provence. Latin ua tends to
ibecome o {cor, quare).
Atonic Voieels. — As for the Latin post- tonic vowels already spoken
of, it remains to be noted that a is often represented in. writing by
«, especially before s ; in old Catalan, the substantives, adjectives,
and participles readily form their singular in a and their plural
in es: anna, armcs (anima, animas); bona, bones (bona, bonas);
amada, amadcs (am at a, amatas). This c is neither open nor close,
but a surd e the pronunciation of which comes very near a. In the
same way the supporting vowel, which is regularly an e ia Catalan,
is often written a, especially after r {abra, arborem ; astra, astrum ;
para, patrem) ; one may say that in the actual state of the language
[lost-tonic e and a become indistinguishable in a surd sound inter-
mediate between the French a aud mute e. Before the tonic the
sam^ change between a and e constantly takes place ; one finds in
manuscripts enar, emor for anar, amor (the same manner of writing
extends even to the case of the tonic syllable, tsn and sent from
tantum and sanctum being far from rare), and, on the other
hand, antre, arrar, for cntrc, crrar. /atonic is often represented
by e even when it is long {vclii, vicinus). 0 atonic close, which
in genuine Catalan exists only before the tonic, has become «; at
the present day truxar, cuntradir is the real pronunciation of the
words spelt trovar, contradir, and in the final syllables, verbal or
other, where under Castilian influence an o has come to be added to
tho normal Catalan form, this o has the yalue of a « : trovo (genuine
Catalan, trap) is pronounced trovu ; bravo (genuine Catalan, brau)
is ])ronounced braric. C atonic keeps its ground.
The only strong diphthongs of the spoken language are di, du
(rather rare), ei, eu, iu, 6i, 6u, ili, uu. Ai produced by a -|- i
or by a -1- a palatal consonant has for the greater part of the time
becqnie an c in the modern language ; factum has yielded /aiY, feit,
and then fet, the last being the actual form ; ariii^ has given er
alongside of aire, ari, which are learned or semi-learned forms. Of
the two weak diphthongs i6 and ud, the latter, as has been seen,
tends to become o close in the atonic syllable, and is pronounced u :
quaranta, has become coranla, then curanta. After the tonic ua,
often becomes a in the Catalan of the mainland {ayga, aqua,
I'enga, lingua), while in Majorca it becomes o {aygo, llengo).
Consonants.- — Final t readUy disappears after m or I {tan, tantum ;
aman, vcnin, partin, ioT a7nant, venint, &c. ; oyiol, multum; ocul,
ocuU.um) ; the t reappears in composition before a vowel {/on,
louloni, hat Font-albd). On the other hand, a I without etymo-
logical origin is frequently added to words ending in r {cart for car,
quare ; mart for mar, mare ; amart,-ohirt, infinitive for amar, ohir),
and even to some words terminating in a vowel {genit, ingenium;
premit, premium), or the addition of the t has taken place by
assimilation to past participles in it. The phenomenon occurs also
in Proven9al (see Romania, vii. 107, viii. 110). Median intervocal
d, represented by s (2) in the first stage of the language, has dis-
appeared : fidelis gd.vo fesel, then feel, and finally /ci; videtis
became ve:cts, then vects, vets, and veu. Final d alter a vowel has
produced M (pciJ, pedem; miu, nidum;mffu, modum); but, when
the d, in consequence of tho disappearance of the preceding vowel,
rests upon a consonant, it remains and passes into the correspond-
ing surd : frigidus gives /red (pronounced fret). The group dr,
when produced by the disappearance of the intermediate vowel,
becomes ur {creure, credere; oclure, occidere; veure, videre;
seurc, sedere). Final n, if originally it stood between two vowels,
falls away (ho, bonum; vi, vinum), but not when it answers to
mn (thus donum makes do, but domnnm don; sonum make?
so, but somnum son). Nd is reduced to n {demanar, comanarfoj
demandar, comandar), Assibilated c before e,i is treated like d\
within a word it disappears after having been represented fpr a
while by s (lucere gives Uusir, lluhir; recipere gives rezehre,
rcebrc, rcbre) ; at the end of a word it is replaced by u {veu, vicem ;
feu, fecit). The group c'r gives ur, just like dV {jaurc, jacere;
naure, nocere ; plaure, placere ; but faccre, dicere, ducere,
make far {/er), dir, dur. Initial I has been preserved only in
certain monosyllables (the article lo, los) ; everywhere else it has
been replaced by I moiiillee (Prov. Ih), which in the present ortho-
graphy is written II as in Castilian, but formerly used to be repre-
sented by hj or yl {llctra, litera; llengua, lingua). P readily
disappears after m, like t after ?i {cam, campum ; /CT!s,. tempus).
S is replaced by the surd p at the end of a word {trobar in the in-
finitive, but trap in the present tense) ; so also in the interior of a
word when it precedes a consonant {stipvenir, subvenire, sopte,
sub'to). Median intervocaUc / gives v {Estive, Stephanus); it
has disappeared from profundus, which yielded the form preon,
then prcgon (g being introduced to obviate the hiatus). V, wher-
ever it has been preserved, has the same pronunciation as i ; at the
end of a word and between vowels it becomes vocalized into «
{suau, suavis; viure, vivere). C guttural, written qu before ,«
and i, keeps its ground as a central and as a final letter ; in the
latter position it is generally wxitten ch {amich, amicum ; joch,^
jocnm). G guttural is replaced as a final letter by surd c {longa,
but loiK ; trigar, but tricli). Tj after a consonant gives 4s (cas.saj',1
captiare) ; between vowels, after having been represented by softs,
it has disappeared (rationem gave raz6, raysd, then ra!i6) ; at thuj
end of every word it behaves like is, that is to say, changes into u
{preu, pretium); instead of ts the second person plural of the verhi
— at(i)s, et(i)s, it(i)s — now has au, cu, iu after having had ats, cts,
its. /(/gives (f between vowels {verger, viridiarum), and c as a
terminal (written either ig or tx: goig, gaudium, mig, mitx,'
medium). Sij and sc before e and i, as well as x and ps, yield the
sound sh, represented in Catalan by x {angoxa, angus tia ; coneixer,
cognoscere ; rfi'.r, dixit; ?nate'x, metipse). J' almost everywhere
has taken the sound of the French/ {jutge, &c.). Lj and II give I
mouiLlee(rt in the present orthography': fill, filium ; consell, con-
silium; null, nullum). In the larger portion of the Catalan
domain this I raouillee has becorne y ; almost everywhere fiy is pro-
nounced for fill, consey for consell. AJ and mi give n mouiilee {ny in
both old and modem spelling: senyor, seniorem; a7iy, annum).
Sometimes the ny becomes reduced to y ; one occasionally meets in
manuscripts with seyor, ay, for senyor, any, but this pronunciation
has not become general, aa has been the case with the 1/ having its
origin in II. Lingual r at the end of a word has a tendency to dis-
appear when preceded by a vowel : thus the infinitives amare,
temere, *legire are pronounced amd, temi, llcgi. It is never pre-
served except when protected by the non-etymological t already
spoken of {llegirt or llegl, but never lleglr) ; the r reappears, never-
theless, whenever the infinitive L? followed by a pronoun {dananne,
dirho). Rs is reduced to s {cos for cnrs, corpus). H is merely an
orthographic sign ; it is used to indicate that two consecutive vowels
do not form a diphthong {vehi, ralio), and, added to c, it denotes tho
pronunciation of^the guttural c at the end of a word {am'eh).
Inflexion. — Catalan, unlike Old Provencal and Old French, has
never had declensions. It is true that in certain texts (especially
metrical texts) certain trjces of case-endings are to be met with, as '
for example Dsus and Dcu, 'amors and amor, clars and clar, /arts
and/ort, tuyt and tots, abduy and abdos, senycr and senyor, emperaire
and empej-ador; but, since these forms are used convertibly, the
nominative form when the word is in the objective, and the
accusative form when the word is the subject, we can only recog-
nize in these cases a confused recollection of thp Proven9al rules
known only to the literate but of which the transcribers of manu-
scripts took no account. Catalan, then, makes no di.stinctions save
in the gender and the number of its nouns. As regards the forma-
tion of the plural only two observations are necessary. (DWords
whi;h have their radical termination iu n but which in the sinKulaji
CATALAN.]
SPAIN
349
drop that )», iTsume it iu the iilnral before s: homxn-chi makes oiitc
in tlie singular and omens in the plural ; asiti-itm makes asc and
msejis. '2) Wouls terminating in 5 surd or sonant and in x
unciently formed their plural by adding to the singular the syllable
es {bins, brasses ; pres, pi'cscs ; matcix, matcixc^), but subsequcTitly,
from about the loth century, the Castilian influence substituted
^5, so that one now lioars brassos, prcsos, mateixos. The words in
ix, sc, st hn.ve 'been assimilated to words in s (x) ; from bosdi we
originally had the ]dura! hoschcs, but now boscos; from irist, Iristcs,
"but now tristos. For these last in st there exists a plural formation
which is more in accordance with the genius of the language, and
consists in tlio suppression of tlie s before the t ; from aqucst,
for example, we have now side by side the two plurals nqucstos,
in the Castilian manner, and aquels. The article is lo, los (pro-
nounced lu, lus in a portion of the domain), fem. la, ies (las).
Some instances of li occur in the ancient tongue, applying indif-
ferently to the nominative and the objective case; cl ajiplying to
the singular is also not wholly unknown. On the north-western
border of Catalonia, and in the island of JIajorca, the article is not
a derivative from illc but from ipse (sing. masc. cs or so, fem. sa ;
pi. masc. es, and also cts, which appears to come from isios, — cis for
ests, like aquels for aqncsts, — fem. sas). Compare the corresponding
Sardinian forms sti, sa, pi. sos, sas. On the pronouns it has only
to be remarked that the modern language has borrowed from Castilian
the composite forms nosallrcs and vosaltrcs (pronounced also nosaltros
Awdnosalrus), as also the formw)sW,tfj(«te' (Castilian zislcd for vueslia
merced).
Conjugation. -rCa.t^l!>.r), and especially modern Catalan, lias
greatly narrowed the domain of the 2d conjugation in ere ; a largo
number of verbs of this conjugation have been treated as if they
belonged to the 3d in ere ; debere makes dcurc, videre, mure,
and alongside of kabcr, which answers to habere, there is a form
heure which points to habere. A curious fact, and one which has
arisen since the 15th century, is the addition of a paragogic )• to
those infinitives which are accented on the radical ; in a portion of
the Catalan domain one hears creurer, veurer. Some verbs origin-f
ally belonging to the conjugation in ere have passed over into that
in if; for example tenete gives toiiV alongside oilindre, remanere
rovmnir and romandre. In the gerundive and in the present
participle Catalan difiers from Provencal in still distinguishing
the conjugation in ir from that in er, re, — saying, for example,
sentinl. As in Provencal, the past participle of a large number of
verbs of the 2d and 3d conjugations is formed, not from the
infinitive, but from the perfect {po(ful, volgul, tingut suggest the
perfects poch, volch, finch, and not the infinitives podcr, voter,
tenir). In the present indicative and subjunctive many verbs in
ir take the inchoative, form already described, by lengthening the
radical in the three persons of the singular and in the third person
of the plural by means of the syllable esc (isc) . agrahir has the
present indicative agraesch, agraheixes, agraheix, agralieixen, the
present subjunctive agraesca, -as, -a, -an (or more usually now
agraesqui, -is, -i, -in). The old perfect of the conjugation in ar
bad i (also i) in the 1st pers. sing, and -d in the 3d ; alongside of
the -d, which is proper to Catalan exclusively, we also find, in the
6rst period of the language, -et as in Provencal. Subsequently the
perfect of the three conjugations has admitted forms in -r (amdres,
amdrcm, amdrcu, amaren), derived from the ancient pluperfect
amara, &c., which has- held its ground down to the present day,
with the meaning of a conditional in some verbs (one still hears
fora, hagnera). But the simple perfect is no longer employed in
the spoken language, which has substituted for it a periphrastic
perfect, composed of the infinitive of the verb and the present of
the auxiliary anar : iiaig pendre, for example, does not moan " I
am going to take," but "I have taken." ,Tho earliest example of
this periphrastic perfect carries us back to the 15th century. The
most usual form of the subj. pres. in spoken Catalan is that in -i
for all the three conjugations (ami, -is, -i, -em, -eu, -in ; ■temi, -is,
ic. ; senli, -is, &c. ) ; it appears to bo an abbreviation from -ia, and
in effect certain subjunctives, such as cdntia, lemia, tlnguia, vin^uia
(for cante, tema, tinga, vingia), evidently formed upon sia (subj. of
easer), have been and still are used. The same i of the present sub-
junctive, whatever may be its origin, is still fouqd in the imper-
fect : amis, -essis, -es, -cvsim, &c.
Cilalan Dialect of Atghcro (Sardinia). — As compared with that
of the mainland, the Catalan of Alghero, introiluced into this
jiortion of Sardinia by the Aragoneso conquerors and colonists, does
not present any very important differences ; some of them, such as
they are, are explicable by the infiucnco of the indigtaious dialects
of Sassari and Logudoro. . In phonetics one observes— (1) the change
of Ij into 2/ as an initial before i (yilx, yigis ; lego, legis), a change
which does not take place in the Catalan of the mainland except in
the interior, or at the end of the word ; (2) the frequent change of
I between vowels and of I after c. jf, /, J9 or 6 into r (taura, tabula ;
catidcra, candcla; sangrol,singuUum\frama,Jlama). In conjuga-
tion there are some notablo peculiarities. The 1st iicrs. sing, docs
not take the o which continental Catalan h.os borrowed • from
eostilian (cant, noi canto, &c.); the imp. ind. of verbs of the 2d
and 3d conjugatioiis has ma, ira instead of ia, a form which also
occurs in the conditional (cantariva, drumiriva) ; the simple per-
fect, of which some types are still preserved in the actual language
(e.g., anighe, aghi), has likewise served for the formation not only
of the past participle but also of the infinitive (aghcr, hulere, can
only be explained by ach, 3d person of the perfect) ; the infinitives
with r paragogic (vinrcr, seurer, plourer) are not used(wii(rc, scurc,
plourc instead) ; in the conjugation of the present of the verb
cssar or esser, the 2d pers. sing, scs formed upon the persons of
the plural, while continental Catalan says cts (anciently est), as
also, in the plural, san, scu, instead of som, sou, arc to be noted ;
Iciicre has passed over to the conjugation in re ^{trfnda = tcHdic),
but it is at the same time true that in ordinary Catalan also wa
have tindrer alongside of tenir the habitual form ; diccre givts not
dir but diure, wliicli is more regular.
n. Castilian. — This name (derived from the kingdom
of Castile, the most powerful element in the Spanish
monarchy) is the most convenient designation to apply to
the linguistic domain which comprises the whole of central
Spain and the vast regions of America and Asia colonized
from the 16th century onwards by the Spaniards. \Va
might also indeed call it the Spanish domain, narrowing
the essentially geographical meaning of the word Espaud
(derived, like the other old form EspaUmi, from Uispania),
and using it in a purely political sense. i!ut the first
expression is to be preferred, all the more because, it lias
been long in use, and even the inhabitants of the domain
outside the two Castiles fully accept it and are indeed
the first to call their idiom (Jastellano. It is agreed oii
all hands that Castilian is one of the two branches of
the vulgar Latin of Spain, Portuguese-Galician being tho
other ; both idioms, now separated by very marked differ-
ences, can be traced back directly to one common source
— the Hispanic Romance. One and the same vulgar
tongue, diversely modified in the lapse of time, has pro-
duced Castilian and Portuguese as two varieties, while
Catalan, the third language of the Peninsula,' connects
itself, as has alrea.dy been pointed out, with the Gallo-
Roman.
Within the Castilian domain, thus embracing all in
Spain that is neither Portuguese nor Catalan, there exist
linguistic varieties which it would perhaps be an exag-
geration to call dialects, considering the meaning ordinarily
attached to that word, but which are none the less worthy
of attention. Generally speaking, from various circum-
stances, and especially that of the reconquest, by which
the already-formed idiom of (ne Christian conquerors and
colonists was gradually conveyed from north to south,
Castilian has maintained a uniformity of which the
Romance languages afford no other example. Wo shall
proceed in the first instance to examine the most salient
features of tho normal Castilian, spoken in the provinces
more or less closely corresponding to the old limits of
Old and New Castile, so as to be able afterwards to note
the peculiarities of what, for want of a better expression,
wo must call the Castilian dialects.
In some respects Castilian is hardly further removeij
from classical Latin than is Italian ; in others it kaj
approximately reached tho same stage as Provencal. A^
regards the tonic accent and tho treatment of the vowcl|
which come after it, Castilian may bo said to be essentially
a paroxytonic language, though it does not altogethei
refuse proparo.xytonic accentuation and it ■ would bo q
mistake to regard vocables like Idmpara, ICu/rima, rdpido,
4c., as learned words. In this feature, and in its alnios|
universal conservation of tho final vowels e, i, n ("),
Castilian comes very near Italian, while it separates fronj
it and approaches the Galjo-Roman by its modification o>
the consonants.
Vowels. — Normal X!!astilian faithfully preserves tho vowels i, 1^
0, u; the comparatively infrequent instances in which I and 0 »r»
treatcnl like iand 6 must be attributed to tho working of analoggr»
It diphthongizes > in ie, S in tie, which may bo regarded «* ^
350
SPAIN
iiAJJGUAOB.
Nveakenmg of uo (seu Bomania, iv. SO). Sometimes ie and )« in
the modeiu language are changed into » and t: silla from sella
(Old Cast. sicHa), vispira from vespera (Old Cast vicspera), casUHo
from castellum (01(1 Cast. casftcHoJi/rCT^e from frontem(01dCast
fruerUc), flcco from floccus (Old Cast. Jiueco). The words in which
f and 5 have kept their ground are either learned words like inddico,
VtiriCo, or have been borrowed from dialects wliich do not suffer
idiphthougization. In mauy cases the old language is more rigorous ;
thus, while modern Castilian has given the preference to mente,
como, modo, we find in old texts mieiUe, cuemo, miu:do. Lat. au
tnakes o in all words of popular origin [cosi, oro, kc).
Consonants. — On the liquids I, in, n, r there is little to bo re-
marked, except that ths laRt-named letter lias two pronunciations —
one soft (voiced), as in amor, burla, the other hard (voiceless), as in
\rendir, tien-a (Old Cast in this case goes so far as to double the
'initial consonant : rnndir) — and that n is often inserted before s and
«: ensayo, viensagc, r^irfir (reddere). i niouillee (written U) re-
presents not only the Latin I, U, Ij, but also, at the beginning of
words, the combinations cl, gl, pi, bl,fl: llama (flamma). Have
fclavis), Horar (plorare); the tendency of the modern language
is, as in Catalan, to reduco U to y; thus one readUy hears yeno
(plenum). iV mouillee («} corresponds to the Latin «n, mn, nj,
and sometimes to initial n: ano (annum), dano (damnum), niido
(nodura). Passing to the dentals, except as au initial, t in words
that are popularly current and belong to the old stock of the
fciiguage, can only be derived from Lat. it, pt, and sometimes ct,
as in jue^er (mittere), ca(ar (captare), ^(tnto (punctum); but it
is to be observed that the habitual mode of representing ct in
normal Castilian is by ch (pron. tch), as in derccko (directum),
pecho (pectus), so that we may take those words in which t alone
I'epreseuts cl as secondary forms of learned words; thus we have
hendito, otubre, saiUo as secondary forms of the learned words
bendicto, oclubre, sancto, alongside of the old popular forms baidicho,
cchubrc, sancho. D corresponds in Castilian to Latin t between
vowels, or t before r: amado (amatus), padre (patrem). At the
|>resent day the d of the suffixes ado, ido is no longer pronounced
throughout the whole extent of the domain, and the same holds
good also of the final d: salil, poni, for salud, poned (from saluteni,
ponite). Sometimes d takes the interdental sound of z (English
ih), or is changed into I; witness the two pronunciations of the
&ame of the capital — Uadriz and Madril (adj. Madrileho). The
■tudy of the spirants c, z, s; g, j is made a very delicate one by the
circumstance that the interdental pronunciation of c, z on the one
land, and the guttural pronunciation of g, j on the other, are of
Comparatively recent date, and convey no notion of the value of
these letters before the 17th century. It is admitted, not without
Teason, that the spirants c, z, which at present represent but one
interdental sound (a lisped s, or a sound between s and Eng. th in
[thing), had down till about the middle of the 16th century the
Voiceless sound ts and the voiced sotmd dz respectively, and that
In like manner the palatal spirants g, j, x, before assuming the
uniform pronunciation of the guttural spirant (••G«rm. eh in
Buck), had previously represented the voiced sound of i (Fr. j)
md the voiceless sound of S (Fr. ch), which are still found in
Portngnese and in the Castilian dialects of the north-west. The
lubstitution of these interdental and guttural sounds for the surd
md sonant spirants respectively did certainly not take place simul-
taneously, but the vacillations of the old orthogi'aphy, and afterwards
the decision of the Spanish Academy, which suppressed a;(-'i; x
ivas retained for cs) and allows only c and g before e and i, z and j
before a, o, «, make it impossible for us to follow, irith the help of
ihe written texts, the course of the transformation. S now has the
foiceless sound even between vowels : casa (pronounced cassa) ; final
r readily falls au-ay, especially before liquids : iodo los for todos los,
mmono for vamos nos. The principal sources of j [g) are — Lat. /
ind g before e and i {juego, jocum ; geiite, gentem); Lat. initial
I {jabon, saponem) ; Lat. x (cojo, coxum); Ij, cl {consejo, con-
wlium; ojo, oc'lum). The sources of z (c) are Lat. cc,cj,tj, s
'cielo, caelum; calza, calcea; razon, rationem; zampoOa, sym-
phonia): As regards the spirants/and ii, it is to be observed that
it the beginning of a word / lias in many instances been replaced by
ie aspirated h (afterwards silent), while in others no less current
(mong the people the transformation has not taken place; thus we
>ave hijo (filium) alongside oificsla (festa). In some cases the/
^as been preserved in order to avoid confusion that might arise from
dentity of sound : the/in ^<;Z (fidelis) has been kept for the sake
(f distinction from hiel (fel). As for v, it has a marked tendency
10 become confounded, especially as an initial letter, with the
lonant explosive b; Joseph Scaliger's pun — bihere est vivere — is
ipplicable to the Castilians as well as to the Gascons, ff is now
lothing more than a graphic sign, except in Andalusia, where the
^pirate sound represented by it comes very near j. Words be-
rinning in hue, where the h, not etymologically derived, marks the
inseparable aspiration of the initial diphthong ue, are readily
frononnced gile throughout almost the whole extent of the domain ;
rttele fbr hiiele (olet) ; gileso for hueso (os). This j/fi* extendaals^
vwords begiuoin;; with bua : giienoSoi hvmto (boKaD^
Inflexion. — Thel's is no trace of declension either in Castilian ot
in Portuguese. Some nominative forms — Diis (anciently Dlos, and
in the Castilian of the Jews Vlo), Carlos, Marcos, saslre (sartor) —
have been adopted instead of forms derived from the accasative, but
the vulgar Latin of the Peninsula in no instance presents two fonns
(subjective and objective case) of the same substantive. The article
is derived from ille, as it is almost everywhere throughout the
Eomance regions: el, la, and a neuter lo; los, las. The plural of
the fii'st and second personal pronoun has iu the modern language
taken a composite form — nosotros,vosotros — which has been imitated
in Catalan. Quien, the interrogative pronoun which has taken the
place of the old qui, seems to como from quem.
Conjugation. — The conjugation of Castilian (and Portuguese) do-
rives a peculiar iutcrest from the archaic features which it retains
The vulgar Latin of Spain has kept the pluperfect indicative, still
in current use as a secondary form of the conditioual {cantdra, venr
di(ra, partiira), and, what is more remarkable still, as not occurring
anywhere else, tlie future perfect {cantdre, vendiire,parlUre, formerly
canldro, vendiero, partUro). The Latin future has beeu replaced,
as everywhere, by the periphrasis (cantare habeo), but it is worth
noticing that in certain old texts of the 13th century, and in
the popular songs c{-a comparatively ancient date which have beea
l)reserved in Asturias, tho auxiliary can still precede the infinitive
(habeo cantare), as with the Latin writers of the decadence;
"Mucho de mayor pre?ioaseer el tumantoQuenonseraelnuestro"
(Berceo,5. Laur., str. 70), whc»e a seer (habet sedere) corresponds
exactly to ««r(i(sed ere habet). The vulgar Latin of the Peninsula,
moreover, has preserved the 2d pers. pi. of the imperative {cantcui,
vended, jyartid), which has disappeared from all the other Romance
languages. Another special feature of CastUian-Portuguese is the
complete absence of the form of conjugation known as inchoative
(intercalation, in the present tense, of the syllable isc or esc between
the radical and the inflexion), although in all the other tenses,
'except the present, Spanish shows a tendency to lay the accent upon
the same syllable in all the six p'ersons,- which was the object aimed
at by the inchoative form. Castilian displaces the accent on the
1st and 2d pers. pi. of the Imperfect {canldbamos, cantdbais), of the
pluperfect indicative {cantdramos, cantdrais), and of the imperfect
subjunctive {cantdsemos, carUdseis) ; possibly the impulse to this
was given by the forms of future perfect cantdrcmos, cantdreis
(cantarlmits, cantarUis). The 2d persons plural were formerly
(except in the perfect) .ades, -edes, -ides ; it was only in the course
of the 16th century that they got reduced, by the falling away of
d, to ais, eis, and ts. The verb essere has been mixed, not as in
the other Eomance languages with stare, but with sedere, as is
proved by older forms seer, siedes, sieden, seyendo, obviously derived
from sedere, and which have in the texts sometimes the meaning
of "to be seated," sometimes that of "tobe, " and sometimes both.
In old Latin charters also sedere is frequently met with in the
sense of esse : e.g., "sedeat istum meum donativum quietum et
securum" (anno 1134), where sedeat=sit. The 2d pers. sing, of
the present of ser is ere$, which is best explained as borrowed from
the imperfect (eras), this tense being often used in Old Spanish
with the meaning of the present ; alongside of cres one finds (but
only in old documents or in dialects) sos, formed like sois (2d pers.
pi.) upon somas. The accentuation in the inflexion of perfects im
the conjugation called strong, like huiidron, hizifron, which cor-
respond to habuerunt, fecerunt (while in the other Romance lan-
guages the Latin type is erunt: ¥i. eurent, firent),mtiy be regarded
as truly etymological, or rather as a result of the a.ssimilation of
these perfects to the perfects known as weak (amdron), for there are
dialectic forms having the accent on the radical, such as dixOTi,
hizon. The past participle of verbs in er was formerly urfo (utns)
in most cases ; at present ido serves for all verbs in «r and ir, except
some ten or twelve in which the participle has retained the Latin
form accented on the radical : dicho, hecho, visto, &c. It ought to
be. added that the past participle iu normal Ca.stilian derives its
theme not from the perfect but from the infinitive : habido, sabida.
from hober, saber, not from hubo, siipo.
Castilian Dialects. — To discover the features by which these
are distinguished from normal Castilian we must turn to old charters
and to certain modem compositions in which the provincial forms
of speech have been reproduced more or less faithfully.
Asturian. — The Asturian idiom, called by the natives bable, is
differentiated from the Castilian by the following characters. I*
occurs, as in Old Castilian, in words formed wii'u the sutfix ellum
(castiellu, portiellu, while modern Castilian has reduced ie to i.
E, i, u, post-tonic for a, e, o : penes {pcnas), grades (gracias), csti
(este), frenti (/rente), Itcchi (lechc), nuechi (noche), unu (uno),
primeru. (jyrimero). There is no guttural spirant, j, but, according
to circumstances, y or a; (s) ; thus Lat. _c/, /J gives y : rei/H (*veclus),
espeyu (spec'lum), conseyu, (consilium); and after an i this y is
hardly perceptible, to judge by the forms Jiu (filium), escoido.i
(Cast escogidos), Castia (Costilla) ; La!;, g before c and i, Lat. initial
j, and Lat ss,x, give x (J) — xieTiU (gentem), x^idiio (Judaens],
6a.nt (bassus), coxu, (coxus), Jhxu (fluxus). Lat initial/ b»»
ke^t its giouiid. at loMt in part of the province : fin, /i//v< <C!tiU
CASTILIAK.]
SPAIN
351
kijo, hoja). A veiy marked feature is the liabitual "mouillure" of
/ niid n as initial letters; lleclic, Ucer, lluna, lluta; non, uunca,
uiiere, fiu'ic. With respect to inflexion tlie following forms may
be noted : — personal pronouns: i {illi), yos (illos); possessive pro-
nouns: jnid, pi. '>ni6s\ to, ton: so, sos for both masc. and fern.;
verbs : 3d peis. pi. imp. of the 2il and 3d conjugations in in
lor i«i(Cast. inn); train, tcnin,facin. (hom facer), fin (from fir),
and even some instances of the 2d p-i-s. sing, {abis ; Cast.
/(nbias) ; instances of pres. subj. in ia for a (sirvia, viitia, S('pia).
The verb sn- gives yes (sometimes yercs) in tlie 2d pers. sing., ye
in the 3d. Facere appears under tivo formn— fitter an'l fir, — and
to the abridged form correspond fa's, fcnih, fin, &c. I re often
appear; under the form lUr {antes de diroa— antes dc iros), which it
is not L tcesMary to explain by dc-ire (see Schnchardt, Zlschr. f.
roj/i. l-.i-'oL, V. 312).
Kanir ' .'e-Aragoiiese. — In its treatment of the post-tonic vowels
this dialec t parts company with normal Castilian and comes nearer
Catalan, ir '^o far as it drops the final e, especially after nt, rt
(hwnt, ]>lazv'-'l, mucd, fatrt, parents, genls); anirl, when the atonic
i: has dropped after a r, this v becomes a vowel — !>rai (brevem),
gricu ('greveni), nueu (novem). ICavarrese-Aragonese has the
diphthongs ie, ve from tonic I and 5, and adheres more strictly
to theiu than normal Castilian does, — cuende (comitem), hmi/
(hodie), pucy'o (podium), yes (est), yeran (erant), while Castilian
says comic, hoy, poyo, es, cran. The initial combinations cl, pi, fl,
Iiave withstood the transformation into II better tlian in Castilian :
pluno, plena, plcga, clamado, fama are current in old documents ;
and at the present day, although the I has come to be "mouillce,"
the flrst consonant lias not disappeared (plluma, pllord, pllano —
pronounced pljiima, &c. ). Lat. e( gives it, not eh as in Castilian :
nitryt (nocteni), destruito {destTiictnm), proveito (provectum),
dtto for diito (dictum). 2) between vowels kept its ground lunger
than in Castilian : documents of the 14th century supply such forms
ns viilicron, rido, httdio,provedir,rcde>iiir,prodcza,Bcnedit,vidicwlo,
Ac; but afterwards i/ camo to be substituted for d or dj : veycre
(videre), scyeii- (sedere), s«7/<i (sedoat), goyo (gaudium), cnucyo
(inodium). Initial/does not chauge into h : fllo,feilo. Navarrese-
Aragonese does not possess the guttural spirant (J) of Castilian,
which is here tendered according to circumstances either by g (Fr.
ft or by II (t mouillee), but never by the Asturian x. Certain forms
of tlie conjugation of the verb differ from the Castilian : dar, estar,
haver, saber, poner readily form their imperfects and imperfect
subjunctives like the regnlai verbs in ar and er, — havicron (Cast.
Ivubieron), cstaron (Cast, estuhieron), sabid (Cast, supo), dasen (Cast.
diesen), panicse (C:ist. pusicse) ; on the other hand, past participles
and gerundives formed from the perfect are to be met with, — fsicndo
for faciendo (perf fiso), tuviendo and tiivido for tenicndo, tenido
(perf. ttivo). In the region bordering on Catalonia the simple
perfect has given way before the periphrastic form proper to
Catalan : voy caycr (I fell), vafi (he has done), vamos ir (we went),
&c ; the imperfects of verbs in er, ir, moreover, are found in cba,
iba {cotneba, siibiba, for eomia,subia), and some presents also occur
where the Catalan influence makes itself felt : estitio (Cat. esiich),
vaigo (Cat. vaig), veigo (Cat. vcig). Navarrese-Aragonese makes use
of the adverb en as a pronoun : no Us en daren pas, no'n hi ha.
•Andalasian. — The word "dialect" is still more appropriately
npplied to Andalusian than either to Asturian or Navarrese-
Aragonese. JIany peculiarities of pronunciation, however, are
commonly called Andalusian which are far from being confined to
Andalusia proper, but aro met with in the vulgar speech of many
p.arts of the Castilian domain, both in Europe and in America.
Of these but a few occur only there, or at least have not yet been
observed elsewhere than in that great province of southern Spain.
They aro the following. Zr, n, r, d between vowels or at the end
of a word disappear: sd {aal), s6 {sol), viee (viene), tiee {ticne), paa
and }>"■ ( pc^ra), mia (mira), rwa and iia {nada), too and to {todo).
D is dropped even from the beginning of a word : « (dc), inero
(dinero), on (don). Before an explosive, I, r, d are often represented
by i : saiga {saiga), vaiga {valga), laigo (largo), maire {madre),
paire {padre). Lat. / is more rigorously represented by h than
in normal C«stilinn, and this h here preserves the a.spirato sound
■which it h'aa lost elsewhere ; habld, horma {forma), hoder, are
pronounced with a very i*rong aspiration, almost identical with
that of j. The Andalusians also very readily write those words
jablA, jorma, jodcr. This aspirate, expressed by j, often has no
etymological origin ; for example, Jdndalo, a nickname applied to
Andalusians, is simply the word Andaluz pronounced with the
strong aspiration characteristic of the inhabitants of the province.
O, 2 are sMdom pronounced like s ; but a feature more peculiar to
the Andalusians is the inverse process, the softened and interdental
pronunciation of the s (the so-called ceeeo) : zeilor (seilor), kc.
Before a consonant and at the end of a word s becomes a simple
a-'piration : mihmo {miinw), Dioh (Dios), do realcs {dos reales). In
the inflexion of the verb there is nothing special to note, except
some instances of 2d pcra. sing, of the perfect in tes for tc :
tstuvisles, estuvites, for csluvistc, — evidently a fonnation by analogy
ftom the 2d pers. of the other tensoo, which all have *.
jt Is with t1ie Andalusian dialect that we can most readily asso-
ciate the varieties of Castilian which are spoken in South Anjcrtca.
Here some of the most characteristic features of the language of the
extreme south of Spain are reproduced, — either because the Cas-
tilian of America has spontaneously passed through the same
phonetic transformations or because the Andalusian clement, very
strongly represented in colonization, succeeded in transporting its
local habits of speech to the Kcw World.
Leonese. — Proceeding on inadequate indications, the existence of
a Leonese dialect has been imprudently admitted in some quarters;
but the old kingdom of Leon cannot in any way be considered as
constituting a linguistic domain with an individuality-of its own.
The fact that a poem of the 13th century (the 'Alejandro), and
certain redactions of the oldest Spanish code, the Faero Juzgo,
have a Leonese origin has been made too much of, and has led to
a tendency to localize excessively certain features common to the
whole western zone where the transition takes place from Castilian
to Galician- Portuguese.
IIL PoRTTJGtrE.sE. — Portuguese-Galician constitutes the
second branch of the Latin of Spain. In it we must dis-
tinguish— (1) Portuguese {Portngiiez, perhaps a contraction
from the old Portugalez= Portugalensis), the language of
the kingdom of Portugal and its colonies in Africa, Asi'a, and
America (Brazil) ; (2) Galigian (Gallei/o), or the language
of the old kingdom of Galicia (the modern provinces of
Pontevedra, La Corufia, Orense, and Lugo) and of a portion
of the old kingdom of Leon (the territory of Vierzo in the
province of Leon). Portuguese, like Castilian, is a literary
language, which for ages has served as the vehicle of the
literature of the Portuguese nation constituted in the be-
ginning of the 12th century. Galician, on the other hand,
which began early in the Middle Ages a literary life, — for it
was employed by Alfonso the Wise in his cantigas in honour
of the Virgin, — decayed in proportion as the monarchy of
Castile and Leon, to which Galicia had been annexed,
gathered force and unity in its southward conquest. At
the present day Gallego, which is simply Portuguese
variously modified and with a development in soma
respects arrested, is far from having as a dialect the same
importance as Catalan, not only because the Spaniards
who speak it (1,800,000) number much less than the
Catalans (3,500,000), but also because, its literary culture
having been early abandoned in favour of Castilian, it
inevitably fell into the vegetative condition of a provincial
patois. Speaking generally, Portuguese is further removed
than - Castilian from Latin ; its development has gone
further, and its actual forms are more worn out than
those of the sister language, and hence it has, not with-
out reason, been compared to French, with which it has
some very notable analogies. But, on the other hand,
Portuguese has remained more exclusively Latin in it*,
vocabularj', and, particular iy in its Conjugation, it has
managed to preserve several features which give.it, as
compared .with Castilian, a highly archaic air. Old
Portuguese, and more especially the poetic language of the
13th century, received from tho language of the trouba-
dours, in whose poetry the earlier Portuguese poets found
much of their inspiration, certain words and certain turns
of expression which have left upon it indelible traces.
Vowels. — Lat ?, S with the accent have not been diphthongized
into it, tio, tie: p6 (podem), dez (decern), bom (bonus), pode
(potot). On the other hand, Portuguese has a largo nunilier of
strong diphthongs produced by the attraction of an » in hiatus or
the resolution of an explosive into i : raiba (rabia), fiira (feria),
■feito (factum), sciio (saxum), oito (octo). Aquito peculiar feature
of the language occurs in the "na.sal vowels," which are formed by
the Latin accented vowels followed by m, n, or nt, nd : bH (bene),
grd (grandom), bo (bonum). These nasal vowels enter into com-
bination with a final atonic vowel: irmSo (germanus); also njndo
(amant), stmido (sermonem), where the o is a degenerated repre-
sentative of the Latin final vowel. In Old rortugucse th* nam)
yowcl or diphthong was not as now marked by the til {'), but was
expressed indifferently and without regard to the etymology by m
or n : betn (bene), fan (tantum), ditstnmt (dixeranl), fennom
(sermonem). The Latin diphthong au is rendered in Portuguese
by ou {ouro, aurum: poueo, paucuni), also pronounced ot. ipVith
regard to the atonic i owols. there is a tendency to reduce a into ■
352
SPAIN
[literatdee.
vowel resembling the Fr. c "mucl." to pronounce o B9 «, anrl to
drop c after a group of consomiuts {thai for dcnic).
Connonanls. — Here the most remarkable feature, and tliat which
most distinctly marks the wear and tear through which the language
lias passed, is the disappearance of the median consonants / and n;
coi-ua (corona), lim (hina), ]>Si- formerly jmcr (ponere), coitcr/o
(canotiicus), I'ir (venire), liut', Ibrnierly door (dolorem), pcn^o
(palatium), sowlc (saluteni), /'!":/o (pelagus). Latin b passes
regularly into r: cncallo (caballus), fava (faba), orvorc
(arboreni) ; but, on the other hand. L.ilin initial v rea lilv tends
to become h: hcxiga (vesica), tor'o (votum). Latin initial/
never becomes h: fazcr (facere), filo (filum). Latin c before e
and i is reiu'esentcd either by the hard sibilant « or by the soft z.
Latin g between vowels is dropped before c and i: ler for her
(legere), dcdo (digitum); the same is the case with rf, of course,
in similar circimibtances : ronir (redimere), rz^ (ridere)i Latin
j has assumed the sound of the French.'. The Latin combinations
cl, ft, i>l at the beginning of words are transforme 1 in two ways in
words of ]iopular origin. Either the initial consonant is retained
vhile tlie Ms changed into/': rrnvo (clavum), ;»■«;<?/• (placere),
fror (i\ora\n)\ or the group is changed in ch ( = Fr. ch, Catal. a-)
through the intermediate sounds /y, fj, pj: chaiaai (clamare),
chao (planus), chamma (flamma). Within the word the same
group and other groups also in which the second consonant is an I
produce I niouillce (written M, just as n mouillee is written nh, as
ill rioveiijal): ovcllm (ovic'la), vclho (*veclus); and sometimes
ch : facho (fac'lum), ancho (aniplum). Lat. ss or sc before e and
% gives X (Fr. ch): baixo (bassus), /aorn '(fascia). The group ct
is reduced tort; Icito (lectum), pcito (pectus), noite (noctem);
sometimes to «(: donlo (doctus). Such words as/ruto, veto, dileto
are modern derivatives from the learned forms/™c;ci, recto, dilecto,
Latin cs becomes is: scis (se.x); or isc, x ( = Fr. ich, ch): seixo
(saxum), /lixo (lu.xum); or even ss: rf!sse(dixi).
Inflexion. — The Portuguese article, now reduced to the vocalic
form 0, a, os, (is, was !o (exceptionally also cl, which still survives
in the exjnession El-Jici), la, los, las in the old language. Words
ending in I in the singular lose the I in the plural (because it then
becomes median, and so is dropped): sol (solem), but soes (soles);
those having do in the sing, form the )dural either in des or in oes
nccohding to the etymology : thus cdo (canem) makes cdes, but rafao
makes rai;dcs. As regards the pronoun, mention must be made of
the non-etymological forms of the personal viim and of the feminine
possessive minha, where the second n has been brought in by the
• inititil nasal. Portuguese conjugation has more that is interesting.
In the personal suffixes the forms of the 2d pers. pi. in adcs, cdcs,
ides lost the d in the 15th century, and have now become nw, eis, is
through the intermediate forms aes, ces, eis. The form in dcs has
persisted only in those verbs where it was protected by the con-
souants n or r preceding it : pojides, tendes, vindes, amardcs, and also
no doubt in some forms of the present of the imperative, where the
theme has been reduced to an extraordinary degree by the dis.appear-
ance of a consonant and the contraction of vowels: ides, credcs, Icdes,
&c. Portuguese is t!ie only Romance lauguage which possesses a per-
sonal or conjugated infinitive : ainar, amar-cs, avmr, amar-mos,
amar-des, amar-em; e.g., antes de sair-mos, "before we go out."
Again, Portuguese alone has preserved the pluperfect in its original
meaning, so that, for example, amara (amaveram) signifies not
merely as elsewhere "I would love," but also "1 had loved." The
future perfect, retained as in Castilian, has lost its vowel of in-
flexion in the 1st and 3d pers. sing, and consequently becomes
liable to be confounded with the infinitive (amar, render, partir).
Portuguese, though less fretiuently than Castilian, employs ler
(tenere) as an auxiliary, alongside o! aver; audit also supplements
the use of essere with seder*, which furnished the subj. seja, the
imperative sc, scde, the gerundive sctido, the participle sido, and
some other tenses in the old language. Among the peculiarities of
Portuguese conjugation may be mentioned — (1) the assimilation
of the 3d pers. sing, to the 1st in strong perfects (houve, pudc, quiz,
fez), while Castilian has hube and hubo; (2) the imperfects punha,
tinlia, vinhaJSxom por, tcr, and vir), which are accented on the
i-adical in order to avoid the loss of the n (ponia would have made
pola), and which substitute u and t for o and e in order to dis-
tinguish from the present subjunctive (ponha, taiha, venha).
Giilician. — Almost all the phonetic features which distinguisli
Portuguese from Castilian are possessed by Gallego also. Portu-
guese and Galician even now are practically one language, and still
more was this the case formirly : the identity of the two idioms
would become still more obvious if the orthography employed by
the Galicians were more strictly phonetic, and if certain transcrip-
tions of sounds borrowed from the grammar of the official language
(Castilian) did not veil the true pronunciation of the dialect. It is
stated, for example, that Gallego does not possess nasal di|ih-
thongs : still it may be conceded once for all that such a word as
lilauus, which in Galician is written sometimes cAaif and sometimes
chan, cannot be very remote from the Portuguese nasal pronuncia-
tion chao. One of the most notable differences between normal
Portuguese and Galician is the substitution of the surd spirant
in place of the sonant spirant for the Lat. j before all vowels and g
before c and i: xuez (judicem), Port, juiz; xunto (junctum),
Port, junto; xcntc (gentem). Port, gentc. In conjugation the
peculiarities of Gallego are more marked ; some find their explana-
tion within the dialect itself, others seem to be due to Castilian
influence. The 2d persons plural have still their old form cidos,
edcs, ides, so that in this instance it would seem as if Gallegu had
been arrested in its progress while Portuguese had gone on jire-
gressing ; but it is to be observed that with these full forms the
grammarians admit contracted forms as well : &s (Port, ais), (s
(Port, eis), is (Port. is). The 1st pel's, sing, of the perfect of
conjugations in cr and ir has come to be complicated by a nasal
resonance similar to that which we find in the Portuguese mim;
we have vcndin, partin, instead of vcndi, parti, and by analogy
this form in in has extended itself also to the perfect of the con-
jugation in ar, and/aZm, gardin, for falci, gardci are found. The
second persons of the same tense take the endings che, chcs in tho
singular and ehedcs in the plural : falaehe or falaclies (fabulasti),
falachedes as well as faldstcdcs (fabulastis), bateehc or batichc, pi.
batestcs or batechedes, &.C. Ti (tihi) having given che in Galician,
we see Xhut falasti has become /«/nc/ie by a phonetic process. The
3d pers. sing, of stronj perfect is not in c as in Portuguese {houve,
pode), but in o (houbo, puido, soubo, coubo, &c.); Castilian iiiHuence
may be traceable here. If a contemporary grammarian, Saco Arce,
is to be trusted, Gallego would form an absolute exception to the
law of Spanish accentuation in the imperfect and pluperfect indica-
tive: falabdinos, falabddcs ; hatidmos, batiddes; pididmos, pididdes;
aad/alardinos,falarddcs; batcrdmos, baterddcs; pidirdmos,pidirddes.
The future perfect indicative and the imperfect subjunctive, on the
other hand, ■would seem to be accented regularly: faldremos, fald-
semos. The important question is worth further study in detail.
Bibliography.— On the general subject the only hooka to be mentioned are the
Grammatih der romanisclten Sprachen and the Elymotugisches WdvlerOuch of
Diez. 1. Catalan. On the old lancuage see tlanuel Mjli y Foiitanals, Pe hs
Trofadoret en SspaHa, Barcelona, 1S61, and several essays by the same author
IQ the Revue des Langues Romanes, the Jahrb. f, ronian. ti. ejigl. Literatur, voL
v., and the Ret-isCa Histdrica of Barcelona ; P. Meyer in Romania ; A. Mussafia
In the introduction to Die Calalanische melrisctie Version der sifbcn ueiscrt Mtister,
Vienna, 18J6 ; and Morel-Fatio in Romania. For modern Cafalan, see Ballot y
Toi'res, Oramaticay Apologia de la Llengua Cathalana, Bnicelona, 1S14; A. de
BofaruU, Estitdios, Ststema Gramalical y Creslomalia de la Lengua Calalaua,
Barcelona, 1864 ; and, before all, Jlanuel Rlilii y Fontanals. Esludios de Lengua
Catalatia, Barcelona, IS75. The dialectic varieties of Valencia and the Bulcarics
have not. yet been sufficiently invesMgated. On the Catalan of Algliero (Sai-dinia)
there is a memoir by G. JJorosi in tlie Miscellanea di Filologia dcdicata alia
itemoria dei Prof. Caix e Canello, Florence, 1SS5. 2. Castilian. Since Dicz's
time no general work upon Castilian has been published, ^^ith Ihc exception of a
treatise on Spanish "doublets" by ilme. Carohiia Miclmelis, Sludien ztir rontan-
ischen Wortschop/ung, Leipslc, 1876, and a Spanisckc Sprachlchre, by Paul Fiirster,
Berlin. 1S80, which leaves much to be desired. On the gi-ainmar of Old Castilian
the remaikable articles of Coinu in Romania must be consulted. Hitherto tho
dialects have received but little attention. For Asturian there is a Coteccion dt
Poesias en Dialeclo Asturiano, published at 0^ie^^o in 1830, and sonic lexico-
graphical tiotes ("Apuntes Le.\ico,;rafico3 sobie una Raoia del L>ialecto .\stui i»no")
by G. Laverde, in the Revista de Aslurias for 1879. N'avarresc-Aragone^c has
been worked at by Jerdiiimo Borao, Diccionario de Voces Aragonesas, 2d eil .
Saragossa, 1885, and Andalusian has been very searchiiigly investigated by 11.
Schnchaidt in Ztschr. f. rom. Phitol., vol. v. On Anieiic^n-Spanish tiicre is an
excellent work by B. J. Cuervo, Apuntaciones Crilicns sobre el Lenguaje Hoijo.
raHo, -ilh ed.,Chartres, 18S5. 3. Portuguese. Tiie researches of Diez have hct ti
followed up by F. Adolplio Cocllio in two works, Ihcoria da Coniuga^do em Latim
e Porlvgvez, Li>bon. 1871, and Questdes da Lingua Porlutjutza, Ist pt.. Oporto,
1874. JUt. Cornu and Coelho have eontiibuted several very important articHes
in Portuguese to the pages of Romania. For Galician Saco Aloe's Gramaticn
Gallega, Lugo, 1SC8, and A. Fernandez y Morales's Ensayos Poitieos en liialcclo
Berciano, with introduction and glossary by Mi*iano Cubf y Soler, Leon, 18/11,
ought to be consulted. (A. M.-F.)
PART IV.— LITEEATURE.
The name Spanisli is now generally restricted to the
literature of the Castilian tongue. In the present article
it is taken in the ■wider sense as embracing the literature of
the 'whole Iberian Peninsula, with the exceptions of Por-
tugal (q.v.) and of Galicia, the latter of which as regards
language and literature belongs to the Portuguese domain.
Spanish literature thus considered falls into two divisions
• — Castilian and Catalan.
I. Castilian Literatltre. — Of the Castilian texts now
extant none are of earlier date than the 12th century, and
very probably none go farther back than 1150. That
accepted as the oldest — the Myslery of the Mayiaii Kinya,
as it rs rather inappropriately designated— is a fragment of
a short seiHi-liturgical play meant to be acted in the church
of Toledo at the feast of Epii/hany. Manifestly an imita-'
tion of the Latin tudi represented in France in the 12th
CASTILIAN.j
S P A 1 N
353
century, tUe Spanish piece cannot liave been composed
much before 1150.
The great national hero Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar (died
1099), better known in history by the Arabic surname
of the CiD {<].v.), was celebrated in the vulgar tongue less
than a century after his death in two poems, neither of
which, however, has come down to us in its entirety.
The first cantar, usually entitled Poema del Cid since
the first edition by Tomas Antonio Sanchez, relates in its
first part the valiant deeds {la gesta) of the Cid subse-
quent to his quarrel with King Alfonso YI. ; in the
second the ca[>ture of Valencia, the reconciliation of the
hero with the king, and the marriage of his daughters
with the "infantes" of Carrion;' and then in the third
the treason of the infantes, the vengeance of the Cid, and
the second marriage of his daughters with the infantes of
Navarre and Aragon. The narrative of the last years of
the Cid, which closes this third part, is very much curtailed.
Whilst in the Poema the Cid appears as the loyal vassal,
faithful to his king and deploring the necessity of separ-
ating from him, the Cid of the second poem, Cronica
rimada del Cid, is almost a rebel and at least a refractory
vassal who dares treat his sovereign as an equal. The por-
tion of the Cronica which has been preserved deals in the
main with the youth (mocedades) of Rodrigo ; it contains
the primitive version of his quarrel with the Count Gomez
de Gormaz, and the marriage of the slayer of the count
with Ximena, his daughter, and also a series of fabulous
episodes, such ai the Cid's journey to France to fight with
ihe twelve peers of Charlemagne, i'c. If the Poema really
belongs to the 12th century, some doubt attaches to the
date of- the CrSnica ; it would seem that the form under
which this 1 '.tter text has reached us is more recent than
that of the Poema, but, on the other hand, several tradi-
tions collected by the author bear an incontestable stamp
of antiquity. The versification of both poems is very
barbarous, the metre very irregular. Normally this great
spic measure ought to be divided into two hemistichs of
seven or eight syllables each ; bat here the lines some-
times fall short of this number and sometimes exceed it.
Instead of rhyme, assonance steadily prevails throughout ;
the strophes follow the model of the hisses of the French
chansons de gesle, — that is, they have a single assonance
and vary greatly in extent.
The other heroes of Spanish history, such as the last
Gothic king Roderick, Bernardo delCarpio, the infantes of
Lara, have not given rise to long poems; at least we are
•acquainted \v^lh none of which they are the subject, ^till
some may have existed; and in fact the frequent allusions
in the chronicle of Alfonso the Wise (13th century) to the
narratives of the juglares suggest that Castilian heroic
poetry was richer than the scarcity of the monuments still
extant would lead us to' believe. Fernan Gonzalez, first
independent count of Castile (10th century), has alone
been celebrated in a poem of the 13th century, composed
in single-rhyme quatrains.
With the heroic poetry which takes its themes from
the national hi.story and legends, tliero grow up in the
13th century a religious and didactic poetry, the most
eminent representative of which is Gonzalo de Berceo
(1198-12G8). This poet, born at Berceo in the province
of Logroiio, composed several lives of Spanish saints (St
Domingo de Silos, St Millan de la Cogulla, St Oria), and
also devotional poems, such as the 'Miracles and the
Praises of the Virgin, and some religious hymns. Berceo
names his poems prosa, decir, dictado, indicating thereby
that ho intended them to be read and recited, not sung
like the cantares. They are written in singLe-rhyme
■ ' CorriOQ <1« lo« Coudes ia a dlatrict lu tUe provinoe of Vnluncia.
quatrains and iu verses of twelve to fourteen syllable*
according as the ending of each hemistich is masculine
or feminine. In the same kind of versification wer«
composed, also in the 13th century, two long poems, — one
on Alexander the Great, the other on Apollonius of Tyre,
• — after Latin and French sources. The author of the first
of these poems contrasts \his system of versification, which
he calls mester de clerecia, with the tiiester de joglaria, the
one of the heroic poetry, intended to be sung, and declares
that this single-rhyme quatrain (curso rimado por la
quaderna via) consists of counted syllables. The composer
of Appolonio calls this same versification nueva maestria.
The single-rhyme quatrain, introduced in imitation of the
French poetry of the 12th century into Castilian literature,
became from the time of Berceo and the 'Alexandra and
Appolonio the regular form in Castilian narrative and
didactic- poetry, and prevailed down to the close of the
14th century.
To the 13th century seem also to belong a Life of Sc
Mary the Egyptian, translated from the French, perhaps
through a Provencal version, and an Adoration of the
Three Kings, in verses of eight or nine syllables rhyming
in pairs {aa, bb, cc, &c.), as well as a fragment of a Debate
between Soul and Body, in verses of six or seven syllables,
evidently an imitation of one of those mediaeval Latin
poems entitled Pixa Animi et Corporis. Mention may
here also be made of the ca.ntigas ("songs") of Alfonso
the Wise in honour of the Virgin, although, being in the
Galician dialect, these properly belong to the history of
Portuguese literature.
The 14th century saw the birth of the most original;
medieval Spanish poet. Juan Ruiz (1300-1350), arch-^j^
priest of Hita (near Guadalajara), has left us a poem of
rather irregular composition, in which, while reproducing '
apologues translated from the Latin or French fabulists,
and extracts from Ovid's Art of Love, or from a poem
entitled Pamphilus de Amore, or, lastly, {rom fabliaux and
dits, such as the Bataille'de Karesme et de Charnage, the
author frequently gives way to his own inspiration. Ruiz
celebrates love and woman ; his book is of buen amor, that
is, he shows by his own experience and the example of the
authors whom he follows how a man ought to set to work
to be a successful lover. The character of the female
go-between, named " Trota-Conventos," here plays an im-
portant part ; it was suggested to Ruiz by the Pamphilvt,
but he has greatly strengthened the characteristics and
thus prepared the way for the Celestina of the close of the
15th century. By way of precaution, the author repre-
sents himself as one who has survived his illusions, and
maintains that carnal love (loco amor) must in the long run
give place to divine love ; but this stratum of devotion i»
a thin one and ought not to disguise the real character of
the work. His form of versification is the single-rhyrae
quatrain in the narrative portions; as to the "songs"
(cantigas) which sometimes interrupt the narrative, and of
which the most successful are a "song of scholars" and a
"song of the blind," their rhythm is different and much
more varied. The Rimado de Palacio of the grand chan-
cellor of Castile, Pedro Lopez do Ayala (1332-1407), does
not exclusively refer to court life ; the author takes up all
classes of laymen and churchmen, whoso vices he dcpicU
in jocular style. Amid the tirades of this long moral poem
there occur occasionally some cantares or even decires in
strophes of eight lines of twelve syllables. Akin to this
Rimado de Palacio are the Proverbios Morales of the Jew
Santob (Shemtob) of Carrion, dedicated to King Pedro
the Cruel, who reigned from 1350 to 1369, as well as the
General Dance of Death and a new version of the DetxiU
between Soul and Body, both in eight-lino strophes of arte
mavor (verses of twelve syllables), and both imiUtionB of
* ^ XXIL - 45
354
SPAIN
[literatuee.
French originals. The 14th century also produced a long
historical composition in verse, the Rhymed Chronicle of
Alfonso XL (died 1350), by Eodrigo Yanez, important
fragments of which have come down to us ; the versifica-
tion of this chronicle is similar to that of Sahtob's Proverbs
(strophes of four octosyllabic verses rhyming abab).
The word romance not only signifies in Spain, as in
other Komanic countries, the vulgar tongue, but also bears
the special meaning of a short epic narrative poem (historic
iballad) or, at a later date, a short lyric poem. As regards
the form, the. " romance " (Spanish el romance, in contrast
to French, ifcc, la romance) is a composition iii long verses
of fourteen syllables ending with one rhyme, or assonance,
which have been generally, but wrongly, divided into two
short lines, the first of which, naturally, is rhymeless. This
being the form of the romance verse, the Cronica rimada
del Cid, and even the Poema (though in this case the in-
fluence of the French alexandrines is perceptible), might
be considered as a series of romances tagged on one after
the other ; and in fact several of the old romances of the
Cid, which form each an independent wholo and have been
printed as separate poems in the 16th century, are partly
to be found in the Cronica. Other romances, . notably
those dealing with the heroes of the Carlovingian epic, so
popular in Spain, or with the heroes which Spanish patriot-
ism opposed at a certain period to the French paladins, —
as, for example, Bernardo del Carpio, the rival and the
conqueror of Roland in Castilian tradition, — seem to be
portions severed from those caniares de gesta composed by
jiiglares of which Alfonso X. makes mention. It is only
at the close of the 15th century, arid especially during the
16th, that the romances, which had previously passed from
mouth to mouth by song and recitation, began to be written
down and afterwards to be printed, at first on broadsheets
{pliegos sueltos) and subsequently in collections {roman-
ceros), either general, in which romances of very different
date, character, and subject are mixed up, or restricted to
a single historical or legendary episode or to a single per-
sonage (for example, the Romancero del Cid). In those
•collections the epic verse is always regarded as octosyllabic
and printed as such ; occasionally certain editions divide,
the romance into strophes of four verses (cjiartetas).
Prose King Alfonso X. (died 1284), under whose patronage
chronicles, -(vere published the memorable code entitled Las Siele
centarie' P'^i'tidas and .great scientific compilations, such as the
Libros de Astronomia and the Lapidano, was also the
founder of Spanish historiography in the vulgar tongue.
The Cronica General, composed under his direction, con-
sists o£ two distinct parts : the one treats of universal
history from the creation of the world to the first centuries
of the Christian era {La General e Grant Historia), the
other exclusively of the national history {La Cronica 6
Historia de EspaTia) down to the death of Ferdinand
III. (1252), father of Alfonso. .The main sources of the
Cronica General are two Spanish chroniclers of the 13th
century, — Lucas of Tuy and Rodriguez of Toledo, — who
^i'rote in Latin, but whose works were early translated
into the vernacular. In the Historia -de Espaiia of
Alfonso X., which has collected many legends and which
occasionally refers to the songs of t\i& juglares (for the
purpose, however, of refuting them), the narrative relating
to the Cid is partly based on an Arabic text: This portion
has frequently been printed by itself, under the title of
Cronica del Cid. Alfonso's example bore fruit. In the
14th century we find another Cronica Genend de Espaiia
OT.de Castilla, constructed on the model of the first .and
embracing the years 1030-1312; next, the Grant Cronica
de Espaiia and the Grant Cronica de los Conqueridores,
compiled by command of the grandmaster of the order of
St John of Jerusalem, Juan Fernandez de Heredia, about
1390. Special chronicles of each king of Castile were soon
written. Our information is at fault in regard to the
authorship of the chronicles of Alfonso X, Sancho IV.,
Ferdinand IV., and Alfonso XL : but the four following
reigns— those of Pedro L, Henry II., John I., and Henry
III.— were dealt with by Pedro Lopez de Ayala, ami
here we can recognize the man of literary culture, who had
acquired some knowledge of ancient history, for the form
of the narrative becomes freer and more personal und the
style rises with the thought. Several authors had a hand
in the chronicle of John II., but the final redaction was
by Fernan Perez de Guzman. The sad reign of Heni^
IV. was related by Diego Enriquez del Castillo and
Alfonso de Palencia, the glorious reign of the Catholic
sovereigns Ferdinand and Isabella by Fernando del Pulgai
and Andres Bernaldes. Along with those royal chronicles Bi*-
must be mentioned some biographies of important persons. gmpUe^
Thus in the 15th century the chronicle of Pedro Nino,
count of Buelna (1379-1452), by.Gutierre Diez de Gamez ;
that of Alvaro de Luna, constable of Castile (died 1453) ;
also a very curious book of travels, the narrative of the
embassy sent by Henry III. of Castile to Timur in 1403,
written by the head of the mission, Euy Gonzalez de
Clavijo {q.v.).
The other productions of Castilian prose in the 1 3th and Other
14th centuries are for the most part didactic and senten- prose
tious compositions, which, however, contain illustrations or ^^f\^^^
tales of Eastern origin.' The Spanish translation of Kalila ^nd I4tk
and Limna, made direct from an Arabic text, dates from centuriej.
the middle of the IS^th century, and the romance of the
Seven Sages {Sindibad), published under the title of En-
gams e Assayamientos de las Mxigeres, must be referred
to almost the same period. From the second half of the
13th century the collections of sentences, dits, apologues,
and moral tales become very numerous : first of all, ver-
sions of the Secretum Secretorujit, attributed in the Jliddle
Ages to Aristotle, one of frhich is entitled Poridat de las
Poridades, next the Proverbios Buenos, the Bocados de
Oro or Libro de Bonhim^ Rey de Persia, the Libra de los
Gatos, which is derived from the Narrutioyies of Eudes of
Cheriton. But the most celebrated is the Libro de los
Castigos y Doaonentos of King Sancho IV. (died 1295),
who also composed a fjucidano, a kind of eucyclopredia of
theology, morals, and natural history. It was during the
first half of the 14th century that the nephew of Alfonso
X., the infant Juan Manuel (12S2-1349), wrote those
various works which place him in the first rank of medi-
aeval Spanish proso writers. The best known is the
collection of tales, many of them borrowed from Oriental
sources, entitled El Conde Zifcareor ;"but"besides this con-
tribution to light literature he wrote graver and more
specially instructive works, notably the Libro de los Estados
or Libro del Infante, a kind of manual of education,
domestic economy, and politics ; the Libro del Caballero e
del Escudero, a practical treatise on chivalry somewhat re-
sembling a work of Raymond Lully on the same .subject.
Unfortunately Juan Manuel's poems, which he had col-
lected in a Libro de las Cantigas or de los Cantares, have
been lost. The knowledge of antiquity, previously so poor
and vague, made remarkable progress in the 14th century.
It was thought desirable to learn raoTe about certain epi-
sodes of ancient history, such as the War of Troy, and
therefore the poem on that subject by the Frenchman
Benoit de Sainte-More and the .Latin narrative of Guido
de Columna were both translated. Pedro Lopez de Ay^la
translated or caused to be translated Pierre Bersuire's
French version of Livy, Boetius, and various writings of
Isidore of Seville and Boccaccio.
While the Carlovingian cycle is mainly represented in
Spain by romances, of which the oldest seem to be frag-
CA8T1LIAN.J
ments of lost jjoems of the juglans, the British cycle
(Lancelot, Tn;)tiam, Merlin, ic.) is represented almost
exclusively by works in prose (compare Romance). Those
inarratives are known, it is true, only Ly 15th and IGth
jcentury editions in which they Lave beeu more or less
inodified to suit the taste of the time, but it is impossible
mot to recognize that books such as El Baladro del Sabio
Merlin and La Demanda del Saticto Grial (1515) presup-
pose a considerable antecedent literature of which tbey
are only the afterglow. The principal French romances
of the Kound Table were translated and imitated in Spain
•and in Portugal as early as the first half of the 14th
'century at least ; of that there is no doubt. And, even
if there was not on this point satisfactory testimony, the
prodigious development in Spanish literature of the caha-
llerias or " book of chivalry," incontrovertibly derived
from fictions of British origin, is proof enough that the
Spaniards have at an early date been familiarized with
this romance from France. The first book which begins
the series of strictly Spanish caballerias is the Aniadis de
Gaula (i.e., of Wales, not France). We know the Amadis
only by the vferaion made about 1480 in four books by
Garci Ordoiiez de Montalvo (the oldest edition extant is
Mated 1508), but the work in its original form (three
books), already widely distributed and celebrated by
various Castilian poets from about 1350, must have been
{omposed at the latest in Ihe second third of the 14th
lentury. A few rather vague hints and certain senti-
iilental considerations lead one to seek for the unknown
author of the first Amadis in Portugal, where the
|romances of the Eound Table were even more highly
appreciated than in Spain, and where they have exercised
'a deeper influence on the national literature.' To Mont-
^vo, however, falls the honour of having preserved the
tbook by republishing it ; he only made the mistake of
diluting the original text too much and of adding a
poor continuation. Las Sergas de Esplandian. Allied to
Montalvo's Amadis with its Esplandian appendage are the
iDora Florisando and the Lisuarte de Grecia, the Amadis
de Grecia, the Don Florisel de Niquea, &c., which form
hat Cervantes called the "Amadis sect." Along with
he Amadises range the Palmerines, the most celebrated
which are the Palmerin de Oliva, the Primaleon, and
the Palmerin de Inglalerra. None of those caballerias
inspired by the Amadis were printed or even written before
the 16th century; and they bear in language and style the
stamp of that period ; but they cannot be separated from
jtheir mediaeval model, the spirit of which they have pre-
■eerved intact. Among the caballerias we may also class
some narratives belonging to the Carlovingian epic, — the
^Hisioria del Emperador Carlomagno y de los Doce Pares, a
very popular version still reprinted of the French romance
of Fierabras, the Espejo de Caballerias, into which has
passed a large part of the Orlando Innanwrato of Boiardo,
the Hi^loria de la PeiTia Sibiltn, &c.
The first half of the 15th century, or, what comes
almost to the same thing, the reign of John II. of Castile
(1407-1454), is as regards its literature characterized by
three facts — (1) by the development of a court poetry,
artificial and pretentious ; (2) by the influence of Italian
literature on Castilian prose and poetry, the imitation of
Boccaccio and Dante, especially of the latter, which intro-
duced into Spain a liking for allegory ; and (3) by more
assiduous intercourse with antiquity — a fuller understand-
ing of the Latin writers who had been brought to the front
by the Italian renaissance. After the example of the Pro-
vengals, whose literary doctrines had made their way into
Castile through Bortugal and Catalonia, poetry is now
styled the arte de trobar. The arte de trobar is strictly
"opurt" poetry, which consists in short pieces of rather
SPAIN
355
complicated versification, — love plaiiirs, debates, questions,
and repartees, motes with their^//os^(«, burlestjue and satirical
songs, — a poetry Avholiy "occasional," and which when
separated from its natural environment loses great part of
its charm. In order to understand and appreciate those
pieces they must be read in the collections made by the
poets of the time, and the one must be brought to throw
light on the other. The most celebrated cancionero of the
15th century is that compiled for the amusement of his
sovereign by Alfonso de Baena (who has not designated him-
self a Jew, as has been supposed, the worA judino attached
to his name iu the preface being nothing but indino); it is,
so to say, the olBcial collection of the poetic court of John
II., although it also contains some pieces by poets of earlier
date. After Baena's collection may be mentioned the
Cancionero de Sluiiiga, which contains the Castilian poems
of the trobadores who followed Alfonso V. of Aragon to
Naples. Those cancioueros, consisting of the productions
of a society, a group, were succeeded by collections of a
more general character in which versifiers of very different
periods and localities are jumbled together, the pieces
being classed simply according to their type. The earliest
Cancionero General is that compiled by Juan Fernandez
de Constantina, which appears to have issued from the
Valencia press in the very beginning of the IGth century;
the second, much better known, was published for the first
time at Valencia in 1511 ; its editor was call'^d Fernando
del Castillo. The other poetic school of the 15th century,
which claims to bo specially related to the Italians, had as
its leaders Juan de Jlena (1411-1456), author of the Coro-
nacion and the Labirinto or Las Trecientas (a long poem
so called because of the number of stanzas which, accord-
ing to the scheme, were to compose it), and the marquis
of Santillana, D. Inigo Lopez de Mendoza (1398-1458),
who in his sonnets was the first to imitate the structure of
the ItaXm.'a endecasillabo. Along with those two, who may
be designated poetas, in distinction from the decidores and
the trobadores of the cancioneros, must be ranked Francisco
Imperial, a Genoese by descent, who also helped to
acclimatize in Spain the forms of Italian poetry. The
marquis of Santillana occupies a considerable place in the
literature of the 15th century, not only by reason of his
poems, but quite as much if not more through the support
he afforded to aU the writers of his time, and the impulse
he gave to the study of antiquity and to the labours of
translators who at his request turned Virgil, Ovid, Seneca
ifec, into Castilian. He himself was not acquainted with
Latin ; but the generous efforts he made to stir up his
fellow-countrymen to learn it have justly procured him
the title of father of Spanish humanism. That ho had an
extensive knowledge of the national literature and of the
literatures of France and Italy he has shown in the preface
to his works, which is a sort of ars poetica as well as an
historical exposition of the kinds of poetry cultivated in the
MiddleAges by the Spaniards and the neighbouring nations.
With the exception of the chronicles and some'
caballerias, the prose of the 15th century contains nothing
very striking. The translation of Virgil by Enrique do
Villena (died 1434) is very clumsy and shows jo advance
on the versions of Latin authors made in the previous
century ; better worth reading is the Trabajos Je Hercules,
a whimsical production but with some savour in its style.
A curious and amusing book, full of details about Spanish
manners, is the Corbaclvo of the nrchpricst of Talavera,
Alonao Martinez do Toledo, chaplain to King John IL ;
the Corbacko belongs to the numerous family of satires
against women, and its title ("The Lash " or " Wlii|i ")
borrowed from a work of Boccaccio's, with which it has
otherwise nothing akin, correctly iDdicataa that ho_haa
not s|)arod theoL.
356
SPAIN
[literatdee.
The ancient liturgical Spanish theatre is known to us
only by fragments of the play of the Magian Kings, of
which mention has already been made; but certain
■egulations of the code of the Siete Pariidas (compiled be-
tween 1252 and 1257) prove that this theatre existed, and
that at the great festivals, such as Christmas, Epiphany,
and Easter, dramatic representations were given in
church. These representations, originally a mere com-
mentary on the liturgy, grew more complicated in course
of time ; theywere gradually adulterated with buffoonery,
which frequently brought down the censure of the clergy.
Alfonso the Wise even thought it necessary formally to
forbid the "clerks" playing ><f^os de escarnios, and per-
mitted in the sanctuary only dramas destined to commem-
orate the principal episodes of the life of Christ. Of all
the church festivals, the most popular in Spain was that
of Corpus Christi, instituted by Urban IV. in 1264. At
an early date was introduced the custom of accompanying
the celebration of this festival with dramatic representa-
tions intended to explain to the faithful the Eucharistic
mystery. Thotje dramas, called auios sacramentales, ac-
quired more and more importance; in the 17th century,
with Calderon, they become grand allegorical pieces,
regular theological dissertations in the form of dramas.
To the auto sacramental corresponds the aiUo al naciniienlo,
or drama of the Nativity. The secular theatre is in Spain
as elsewhere a product of the religious theatre. Expelled
from the church, ihsjufgos de escarnios took possession of
the public squares and there obtained a free development;
they cease to be a mere travesty of dogma to become a
separate type, a drama whose movement is no longer
determined by the liturgy, and whose actors are bor-
rowed from real life in Spanish society. This new theatre
starts about the close of the 15th century with the little
pastoral pieces of Juan del Encina (died 1534), which,
after Virgil's example, he calls, eglogas. . Genuine shep-
herds, clumsy, rude, and long-haired (metenitdos}, are
the interlocutors of those bucolics, into which are also
sometimes introduced students, and even, by Lucas
Fernandez, a contemporary and pupil of Encina's, gen-
tlemen (caballeros) and soldiers. -A book which, strictly
speaking, does not belong to the theatre, the Tragicomedia
de Calixto y Melibea, by Fernando de Eojas, much better
known" as La Cetestina, and dating from about 1492,
caused the new theatre, still so childish in the attempts of
the school of Encina, to make a gigantic step onwards.
The history of two lovers, who are brought together by a
go-between (Celestins), and who after various vicissitudes
ultimately commit suicide, — this astonishing novel taught
the Spaniards the art of dialogue, and for the first time
exhibited persons of all classes of society (particularly the
iowest) speaking in harmony with their natural surround-
Tigs, thinking and acting in accordance with their con-'
dition of life. The progress caused by the Celestina may
be estimated by means of the Fropaladia of Bartolome
Torres . Naharro (Naples, 1517), a collection of pieces
represented at Rome in presence of Leo X. and distri-
buted by their author into two groups — coniedias a noticia,
those treating of things really known and seen, and
comedias a fantasia, those bringing fictions on the stage,
though it may be with the appearancei of realit}'. The
most interesting, if not the best composed, are the comedia
soldadesca, depicting to the life the Spanish man-at-arms
of the time, and the comedia tinelaria, a picture of the
manners of the menials of the pontifical court. Torres
Naharro is the first Spaniard who borrowed from France
the division of the play into " days " ijornadas) ; shortly
after Naharro we find the comedy of manners in Lope de
Rueda, goldbeater of Seville (died about 1566), whose
dramatic work ia composed of regular comedies constructed
on the model of Naharro and Italian authors of the begin-
ning of the 16 th century, and also of little pieces intended
for performance in the intervals between the larger plays
(entremeses and pasos), some of which, such as £1 Cow-
vidado. El Riijian Cobarde, Las Aceitnnas, are storehouses
of sprightliness and wit. Some of Naharro's and espe-
cially of Rueda's pieces have already the character of the
comedy of intrigue, which is emphatically the type of the
classic stage. But to reach Lope de Vega the Spanish
stage had to be enlarged in relation to national history.
A poet of Seville, Juan de la Cueva (born about 1550),
first brought on the boards subjects such as the exploits
of the Cid, Bernardo del Carpio, and others, which had
previously been treated of only in the "romances." To a
poet called Bercio, of whose work nothing has been pre-
served, are attributed the comedias of Sloors and Christians,
in which were represented famous episodes of the age-long
struggle against the infidel. And it is at this period that
Cervantes (1585) experimented in the dramatic line; in
his Traios de Argel he gives us a picture of galley-life,
painful recollections of his long captivity in Algiers.
There is no need to linger over certain attempts at
tragedy of the • ancient type by Geronimo Bermudez
(born 1530), Cristobal de .Virues (born about 1550),
Lupercio Leonardo Argensola (1562-1613), &c., the only
successful specimen of which is the Numancia of Cer-
vantes ; these works in fact, cold and manneristic, mere
exercises in style and versification, remained without
influence on the development of the Spanish stage. The
pre-classic period of this stage is, as regards dramatic
form, one of indecision. Some write in prose, like
Rueda ; others, like Naharro, show a preference for the
redoiidillas of popular poetry ; and there are those again
who, to elevate the style of the stage, versify in hendeca-
syllabics. Hesitation .is also evident as to the mode of
dividing the drama. At first a division into five acts,
after the manner of the ancients, is adopted, and this is
still followed by Cervantes in his- first pieces ; then Juan
de la Cueva reduced the five acts to four, and in this he
is imitated by most of the poets to the close of the 16th
century (Lope de Vega himself in his youth composed
pieces in four acts). It was only at this time that the
custom which is still maintained of dividing all dramatic
works into three acts or days was introduced, — exception
of course being made of short pieces like the loa (pro-
logue), the entremes, the pcAO, the baile (different kinds of
entr'acte).
The golden age of Spanish literature, as it \a called,
belongs to the 16th and tLo> 17th centuries, extending
approximately from 1550 to 1650. Previous to the reign
of the Catholic sovereigns there exists, strictly speak-
ing, only a Castilian literature, not very self-reliant and
largely influenced by imitation first of France and then of
Italy ; the union of the two crowns of Aragon and Castile,
and afterwards the advent of the house of Austria and the
king of Spain's election as emperor, proved the creation
at once of the political unity of Spain and of Spanish
literature. After the death of Philip IV. (1665) this fair-
shining light went out ; the nation, exhausted by distant
expeditions, the colonization of America, Continental wars, '
and bad administration, produced nothing ; its literary
genius sank in the general decline, and Spain is destined
ere long to be subjected again to the influence of France,
to which she had submitted during all the first period of
the Middle Ages. In the 16th and 17th centuries the
literature is eminently national. Of course all ia not
equally original, and in certain kinds of literature the
Spaniards continue to seek models abroad.
Lyric poetry, especially that of the highest order, is
always inspired by the Italian masters. An irresiatibl^
CASTILIAN.]
SPAIN
357
tendency leads the Spanish poets to rhyme in hcndoca-
syllabics — as the marquis of Santillana had foi-mcrly done,
though his attempts had fallen into oblivion — and to group
their verses in tercets, octaves, sonnets, and canciouts
{canzoid). Garcilaso do la Vega (1503-1536), Juan
Boscan (1493-c. 1550), and Diego de Mendoza (1503-
1575) are the recognized chiefs of the school al italicn modo,
and to them belongs the honour of having successfully
transplanted to Spain those different forms of verse, and of
having enriched and improved the poetic language of their
country. The few uncouthnesses of which Mendoza and
Boscan more especially arc guilty (such as certain faults of
rhythmic accentuation) were corrected by their disciples
Gutierre de Cetina, Gregorio Silveatre, Hernando de
Acuna, by the poets of the so-called school of Seville,
headed by Fernando de Herrera (died 1597)_, and alw by
those of the rival school of Salamanca, rendered ruinous
mainly by the inspired poetry of Fr. Luis de Leon
(1528-1591). Against those innovators the poets faithful
to the old Castilian manner, the rhymers of redondillas and
romances, hold their own ; under the direction of Crist6bal
de Castillejo (1556) they carry on a fierce war of the pen
against the " Petrarchists." But by the last third of the
16th century the triumph of the new Italian school is
assured, and no one any longer thinks of reproaching it for
its foreign flavour. Only a sort of schism is effected from
that period between the higher poetry and the other
varieties : the former employs only the hendecasyllabic
and the heptasyllabic (quelrado), while the popular poets,
or those who affect a more familiar tone, preserve the
national metres. Almost all the poets, however, of the
16th and 17th centuries have tried their powers in both
kinds of versification, using them in turn according to the
nature of their subjects. Thus Lope de Vega, first of all,
who wrote La Jerusalem Conquislada (1609), La Dragontea
(1602), La Hermosura de Angelica (1602), in Italian verses
and in octaves, composed his long narrative poem on
Isidore, the husbandman patron of Madrid (1599), in
quintils of octosyllabic verse, not to mention a great
number of ''romances." As regards this last form,
previously disdained or almost so by artistic poets, Lope
de Vega gave it a prestige that brought it into favour
with the literates of the court. A host of poets were
pleased to recast the old "romances" or to compose new
ones. The 17th century, it may be said, is characterized
by a regular surfeit of lyric poetry, to which the establish-
ment of various literary academies in the Italian style con-
tributed not a little. Of this enormous mass of verses of
all sorts and sizes very little still keeps afloat : the names
of three-fourths of the versifiers must be forgotten, and
in addition to those already cited it willbo sufficient to
mention Luis de Gungora (1561-1626) and Francisco de
Quevedo Villegas (1580-1645). G6ngora is especially
famous as the founder of the "cultist "■ school, as the intro-
ducer into Castilian poetry of a flowery, bombastic, and
peripnrastic style, characterized by sonorous vocables and
artificial arrangements of phrase. The Spaniards have,
given the name of culln to this porftpous and manneristic
style, with its system of inversions based on Latin syntax.
The Sokdades of G6ngora are the monument par excellence
of Spanish mannerism, which made numerous victims and
inflicted on the poetry of the Peninsula irreparable injury.
But G6ngora, a poet of really great powers, had started
better, and as often as he cares to forget about being
sonorous and affected, and is contented to rhyme romances,
he finds true poetic accents, ingenious ideas, and felicitous
expressions. Quevedo, much greater, moreover, in his
prose works than in his verse, displays real jmwcr only in
satire, epigram, and parody. There are in some of his
e&rtouB pieces the stufi of a Juvenal, and his satiric and
burlesque romances, of which several are even written in
slang (j/eriiiania), are in their way little masterpieces.
Another commonplace of Spanish poetry at this period was
epic poetry after the stylo of Tasso's Gerusaleuime. None
of those interminable and prosaic compositions in octavcu
rcales come near their model ; none of them could even be
compared in style, elevation of thought, and beauty of
imagery to the Lnsindas. They are in reality only rhymed
chronicles, and consequently, when the author happens to
have taken part in the events he narrates, they have a.
genuine historical interest. Such is the case with the
Arancana of Alonso de Ercilla (1533-1594), of which it
may be said that it was written less with a pen than with
a pike. In burlesque poetry the Spaniards have been
rather more successful : La Gatoviaquia of Lope de Vega
and La Mosquea of Villaviciosa (died 1658) are somewhat
agreeable pieces of fun.
The departments of imaginative literature in which the
genius of the new Spanish nation revealed itself with most
vigour and originality are the novela and the drama. By
iiovela must be understood the novel of manners, called
picaresca (from picaro, a rogue or " picaroon ") because of
the social status of the heroes of those fictio is ; and this
kind of novel is quite an invention of the Spaniards.
Their pastoral romance, on the other hand — the best known
exaijiples of which are the Diana Enamorada of Jorge de
Montemayor (died 1561), continued by Alonso Perez and
Gaspar Gil Polo, the Galatea of Cervantes, and the
Arcadia of Lope de Vega, as well as their novel of
adventure, started by Cervantes in his Novelas EJempla7-es
(1613), and cultivated after him by a host of writers — is
directly derived from Italy. The Arcadia of Sannazaro is
the source of the Diana and of all its imitations, just as
the Italian novellieri alone are the masters of the Spanish
novelistas of the 17th century. The picaresque novel
starts in the middle of the 16th century with the Vida de
Lazarillo de Tonnes, sus Fortunas y Adversidades (1554),
the work of a very bold intellect whose personality un-
fortunately remains unknown, there being no satisfactory
reason for assigning this little book, which is as remarkable
for the vigour of its satire as for the sobriety and firmness
of its style, to Diego Hurtado de Mendoza. A supple-
ment to the adventures of Lazarillo appeared at Antwerp
in 1555 ; it is probably, however, not the production of th6
author of the original romance. The impetus was given,
and the success of Lazarillo was so great that imitators
soon appeared. In 1599 Mateo Aleman published, under
the title of Atalaya de la Vida Humana, the first part of
the adventures of another picaroon, Guzman de Alfarache;
and, as ho was in no hurry to finish this narrative, another
writer, jealous of his success, took possession of it and
issued in 1603, under the pseudonym of Mateo Luxan, a
continuation of the first Guzman. Aleman, not to be
thwarted, resumed his pen, and published the second part
of his romance in 1605. Quito unlike that of the
Lazarillo, the style of !Mateo Aleman of Seville is eloquent,
full, with long and learned periods, sometimes disuse.
Nothing could bo more extravagant and more obscure than
the history of Justina the beggar woman {La Picara
Juslina) by Francisco Lopez do Ubcda (1605), an assumed
name which concealed the person of the Dominican Andr(5a
Perez de Leon. The other picaresque romances arc —
Alonso Mozo de muchos Amos, by Geronimo do Alcald
(two parts, 1624 and 1626) ; the I/islorla y Yida del Gran
Tacano Pablo de Segovia (1626), in which Quevedo has
mado his most brilliant display of stylo and wit; the
GarduTia de Scvilla (1634) of. Alonso do Castillo Solor-
zano ; Za Vida y Jlec/ios de Estebanillo ffojicn/c; (164G),
described as compuesto por el mcsmo, but an Esti^ban Gonzalez
is unknown in the literary history of tlio 17lh century.
358
SPAIN
[UTEEATtTEE.
By degrees the picaresque romance was combined with
the uovel of Italian origin and gave rise to a new type, —
half novel of manners, half romanceof adventure, — of which
the characteristic example appears to be the Relacion
de la Vida y Aventuras del E sender o Marcos de Obregon
(1618), by Vicente Espinel, one of the most genial and.
best written works of the 17th century. To the same
class belong almost all the novels of Alonso Ger6nimo de
Salas Barbadillo, such as La Ingeniosa Helena, Don Diego
de Noche, El- Caballero puntual, &c. ; Luiz Velez de Gue-
vara's Diablo Cojuelo (1641), the model of Lesage's Diable
Boiteux ; and Francisco Santos's highly popular pictures of
life in Madrid, Dia y Noche de Madrid (1663), Periquillo,
el de las Gallineras, &c. On the contrary, the novels of
Tirso de Molina {Los Cigarrales de Toledo, 1624), Perez de
Montalban {Para Todos, 1632), Maria de Zayas {Novelas,
1637), are more in the manner of the Novelas Ejerrvplarea
of Cervantes, and consequently of the Italian type.
Among the so-called historical romances one only deserves
to be mentioned, — the Guerras Civiles de Granada by
Gines Perez de Hita, which deals with th^ last years of
the kingdom of Granada and the insurrection of the
Moors of the Alpujarras in the time of Philip II. Don
Quixote, the masterpiece of Miguel Cervantes de Saavedra
(1547-1616), is too great a work to be treated along with
others ; and, besides, it does not fall strictly .within»the
limits of any of the classes just mentioned. If it has to be
defined, it may be described as the social romance of 16th
and 17th century Spain. Cervantes undoubtedly owed
much to . his predecessors, notably to the picaresque
romancers, but he considerably enlarged the scope of ' the
type, and, what had as yet been done by no one, supported
the framework of the story by a lofty moral idea. His
main purpose was,. as we are beginning to realize, not to
turn into ridicule the books of chivalry, which were
already out of fashion by his time, but to show by an
example pushed to absurdity the danger of Mdalgism, of •
all those deplorable prejudices of pure blood and noble
race with which three-fourths of the nation were imbued,
and which, by the scorn of all useful labour whith they
involved, were destined to bring Spain to ruin. The lesson
is all the more effective as his hidalgo, although ridiculous,
was not put. beyond the pale of the reader's sympathy,
and the author condemns only the exaggeration of the
chivalrous spirit, and not true courage and devotion when
these virtues have a serious ' object. The same thing
happened to Don Quixote which had happened to Guzman
de Alfarache. After the publication of the first part
(1605), Cervantes allowed his pen to lie too long idle ; and
so it occurred to some one to anticipate him in the glory
of completing the story of the heroic deeds of the knight
of La Mancha, In 1614 a second part of the adventures
of Don Quixote made its appearance — the work of a certain
Avellaneda, a pseudonym under which people have sought
to recognize the inquisitor Luis de Aliaga. Cervantes ,
was thus roused from inactivity, and the following year
gave to the world the true second part, which soon eiiaced
the bad impression produced -bv. Avellaneda's heavy and
exaggerated imitation.
The stage in the 17th century in some measure took
the place of the romances of the previous age; it is, as it
were, the- medium of all the memories, all the passions, and
all the aspirations of the Spanish people. Its style, being
that of the popular poetry, made it accessible to the most
illiterate classes, hnA gave it an immense range of subject.
From the books of the Bible, the acts of the martyrs,
national traditions, the chronicles of Castile and Aragon,
and foreign histories and novels, down to the daily in-
cidents of contemporary Spanish, life, the escapades and
nightly brawls of students, the gallantries of the Calle
Mayor and the Prado of Madrid, balcony escalades, sword
thrusts and dagger strokes, duels and murders, fathers
befooled, jealous ladies, pilfering and cowardly valets,
inquisitive and sprightly waiting-maids, sly • and tricky
peasants, fresh country girls, — all are turned to dramatic
account. The enormous mass of plays with which the
literature of this period is inundated may be divided into
two great classes — asecular and a religious, the latter again
subdivided into (1) the liturgical play, i.e., the auto either
sacramental or al nacimiento, and (2) the comedia divina
and the comedia de santos, which have no liturgical element
and differ from a secular play only in the fact that the
subject is religious, and frequently, as one of the names
indicates, derived from the history of a saint. In the
secular drama, classification might be carried almost' to
any extent if the nature of the subject be taken as the
criterion. It will be sufficient to distinguish the comedia
(i.e., any tragic or comic piece in three acts) according to
the social types brought on the stage, the equipment of
the actors, and the artifices resorted to in the represenla-
tion. We have (1) the comedia de capa y espada, which
represents any everyday incident, the actors belonging
to the middle class, simple caballeros, and consequently
wearing the garb of ordinary town-life, of which the chief
items were the cloak and the sword, and (2) the comedia
de teatro or de ruido, or again de tramoya or de aparencias
{i.e., the theatrical, spectacular, or scenic play), which
prefers kings and princes for its dramatis personx and
makes a great display of mechanical devices and deco-
rations. ■ Besides the comedia, the classic stage has also
a series of little pieces subsidiary to the play proper :
the loa or prologue, the entremes, a kind of interlude
which afterwards developed into the saynete, the baile, or
ballet accompanied with singing, and the zarzuela, a sort
of operetta thus named -after the royal residence of La
Zarzuela, where the kings of Spain had a theatre. As to
the dramatic poets of the golden age, even more numerous
than the lyric poets and the romancers, it is rather difficult
to group them. AH are more or less pupils or imitators
of the. great chief of the new school. Lope. Felix de Vega'
Carpio (1562-1635) ; everything has ultimately to be
brought back to him whom the Spaniards call the
" monster of Nature." Among Lope's contemporaries,
only a few poets of Valencia (Gaspar de Aguilar, Fran-
cisco Tarrega, Guillem de Castro (1569-1631), the author
of the Mocedades del Cid (from which CorneUle derived his
inspiraticm), formed a small school; as it were, less subject
-to the master than that of Madrid, which was bound to
merit the applause of the public by copying as exactly as
possible the manner of the great initiator. Lope left his
mark on all varieties of the comedia, but did not attain to
equal excellence in all. He was especially successful in
the cemedy of intrigue (enredo), of the ,capa y espada class,
and in dramas whose subjects are derived from national
history. His ^ great and most incontestable merit is to
have given the Spanish stage a range and scope of which
it had not been previously thought capable, and of having
taught his contemporaries to find dramatic situations and
to carry on a plot. It is true he wrote nothing perfect :
his prodigious productiveness and facility allowed him
no time to mature anything ; he wrote negligently, and,
besides, he consid'ered the stage an inferior department^
good for the vulgo, and consequently did not judge it
worthy of the same regard as lyric or narrative poetry
borrowed' from the Italians. Lope's first pupils exag-
gerated some of his defects; but, at the same time, each,
according • to his own • taste, widened' the scope of the
comedia. Antonio Mira de Amescua and Luis 'Velez de
Guevara (died 1644) were, successful especially in tragic
histories and comedias divinas. Fr. Gabriel Tellez (1570-
SPAIN
359
1648), better known under the pseudonym of Tirso de
Molina, one of the most flexible, ingenious, and inventive
of the dramatists, displayed no less talent in the comedy
of couteinporary manners than in historical drama. El
BurUidor de Secilla {Don Jiiaii), the most celebrated of
his plays since the Italians and the French have taken
possession of the subject, is reckoned his masterpiece ; but
he showed himself a much greater poet in El Verijonzoso
en J'cdacio, Don Gil de las Ckihas Verdes, Marta la Pia-
dosa. Finally Juan Ruiz do Alarcon (died 1639), the
most serious and most observant of Spanish dramatic
poets, successfully achieved the comedy of character in
La Verdad Sospeckosa, closely followed by Corneille in
his Menteur. The remaining play-writers hardly did
anything but increase the number of the comedian; they
added nothing to the real elements of the drama. The
second epoch of the classical drama is represented mainly
by Pedro Calderon de la Barca (1600-1681), the Spanish
dramatist who has obtained most celebrity abroad, where
his pieces have been studied and admired (perhaps extra-
vagantly) by certain critics who have not feared to rank
iiim with Shakespeare. It is Calderon who first made
honpur, or more correctly the point of honour, an essen-
tial motive in the conduct of his personages {e.g., El
Medico de su Ilonra) ; it is he also who made the comedia
de cava y espada uniform even to monotony, and gave the
«jOmic "part" of the gracioso (confidential valet of the
cahallero) a fixity which it never previously possessed.
There is depth and jioetry in Calderon, but vagueness
also and much bad tast?. His most philosophic drama.
La Vida es Sueuo, is a bold and sublime idea, but indistinct
and feebly worked out ; that his anlos sacramentales give
evidence of extensive theological knowledge is all that can
be said in their favour. Calderon was imitated, as Lope
had been, by exaggerating his manner and perverting his
»'icellencies. Two poets only of the second half of the
I7th century deserve to be cited along with him —
Francisco de Eojas, author of the fine historic play Del
Hey ahajo ninf/imo, and Agustin Moreto (1618-1662),
author of some pleasant comedies. Among those who
worked in secondary forms mention must be made of
Luis Quiilones de Benavente, a skilful writer of entremeses,
and in fact the greatest master of the form.
A new manner of writing appears with the revival of
learning : the purely objective style of the old chroniclers,
with their tagging on of one fact after another, without
showing the logical connexion or expressing any opinion
on men or things, begins to be thought puerile. An
attempt is now made to treat the history of Spain in the
manner of Livy, Sallust, Tacitus, whose methods of narra-
tion were directly adopted. The 16th century, however,
still presents certain chroniclers of the mediaeval type,
with more erudition, precision, and a beginning of the
critical element. La Croiiica General de Espaua by
Ambrosio do Morales, the Compendio JIutorial of Esteban
de Garibai, the IliUoiia General de las Indias Occidentales
by Antonio de'Hcrrcra, arc, as far as the style is concerned,
continuations of the last chronicles of Castile. Gcr6nimo
jde Zurita (l.'512-L580) is emphatically a scholar; no one
in the 16th century knew as he did how to turn to account
documents and records for the (mrposo of completing and
correcting the narratives of the ancient chronicles ; his
Annli'3 lie la Corona de Aragon is a book of great value,
though written in a painful style. With Juan dc Mariana
(1.^36-1623) history ceases to be a mere compilation of
facts or a work of pure erudition, in order to become a
work of art and of thought. The //intoria de Espaha by
the celebrated Jesiut, at first written in Latin in the in-
terest especially of foreigners, was afterwards rendered by
its author into excellent Castilian ; as a general survey of
its history, well-planned, well written, and well thought
out, Spain possesses nothing that can bo compared with
it ; it is eminently a national work, steeped throughout in
the prejudices of the race. Various works of less extent, —
accounts of more or less iniportant ei)isodes in the history
of Spain, — may take their place beside ^lariana's great
monument : for example, the Guerra de Granada by
Diego Hurtado de Mendoza (a history of the revolt of the
Moors of the Alpujarras under Philip II.), written about
ir)~2, immediately after the e\ents, but not published
till about thirty year.-; later, after the author's death ;
the narrative of the expedition of the Catalans in the
Jlorea in the 1 4th century by Frane^^^co de Moncada (died
1635); that of the revolt of the same Catalans under the
reign of Philip IV. by Francisco itanucl de Melo (dieo'
1C66), a Portuguese by birth ; and that of the conquest of
Mexico by Antonio de Solis. Each of these writers hasi
been more or less inspired by some Latin author, one pre-
ferring Livy, another Sallust, &c. These imitation.';, it
must be admitted, have something artificial and stilted,
which in the long run proves as fatiguing as the unskil-
fulnoss and heaviness of the chroniclers of the Jliddlc
Ages. On the other hand, the historians of the wars of
Flanders, such as Carlos Coloma, Bernardino de Mendoza,
Alonso Vazquez, Francisco Verdugo, are less refined, and
■for that very reason are more vivid and more thoroii';hly
interest us in that struggle of the two races, so foreign to
each other and of such different genius. As for the
accounts of the trans-Atlantic discoveries and conquests,
they are of two kinds, — either (1) memoirs of the actors,
or witnesses of those great dramas, as, e.g., the Hisioria
Verdadera de la Conquista de la Xueva Espaiia by Bernal
Diaz del Castillo, one of the companions of Cortes, and
the Hisioria de las Indias by P. Bartolome de las Casas,
the apostle of the Indians ; or (2) works by professional
writers, such as Francisco Lopez de Gomara, — ofiicial his-
toriographers who wrote in Spain on information sent to
them from the newly-discovered lands.
Letter writers, a rather numerous body in Spanish Letter
literature, are nearly related to the historians ; in fact, writers
letters written to be read by others than the persons
addressed, or in any case revised afterwards, are only
another method, a little more familiar, of writing history.
Fernando del Pulgar appended to his Claros Varoncs a
series of letters on the affairs of his time ; and at the
commencement of the 16th century Antonio do Guevara
(died 1545) collected, under the title of Ejnstolas Fami-
Hares, his correspondence with his contemporaries, which
throws a great light on the early part of the reign of
Charles V., although it must be used with caution because
of the numerous ri/acimentos it has undergone. A cele-
brated victim of Philii) II., Antonio Perez (died 1611),
revenged himself on his master by relating in innumer-
able letters, addressed during his exile to his friends and
protectors, all the incidents of his disgrace, and by selling
to the ministers of France and England the secrets of
the Spanish policy in which he bad a hand ; somo of
these letters arc little masterpieces of sprightliness and
gallantry.
PhilosojiJiy is rather poorly represented in the 16th and
17th tenturiea in the literature of the vernacular. The
greater number of the Spanish thinkers of this epoch,
whatever the school to which they belonged,— scholastic,
Platonic, Aristotelian, or independent, — wrote in Ijitin.
Ascetic and mystical authors alono made uso of the vulgar
tongue for the readier diffusion of their doctrine among
the illiterate, from whoso ranks a good nunjbcr of their
disciples were recruited. Fr. Luis dc Granada (died
15S,S) the great preacher, Juan do la Cruz (1542-1591),
Fr. Luis de Leon (1528-1598), Teresa do Jesus (1015-
560
SPAIN
[literaxuee.
1582), ana ..iaion de Chaide are tlie brighter lights of
this class of writers. Some of their books, like the Guia
de PcMdores of Fr. Luis de Granada, the Confessions of St
Teresa, Malon de Chaide's Conversion of the Magdalen,
have obtained a brilliant and lasting success beyond the
limits of the Peninsula, and have not been without some
influence on the development of mysticism in France.
The Spanish mystics are not only remarkable for the
depth or subtlety of their thoughts and the intensity of
the divine love with which they are inspired ; many of
them are masters of style ; .<;ome, like Juan de la Cruz,
have composed verses which rank with the most delicate
in the language. A notable fact is that those men who
are regarded as illuniinati profess the most practical ideas
in the matter of morality. Nothing is more sensible,
nothing less ecstatic, than the manual of domestic economy
by Fr. Luis de Leon — La Peifecia Casada. Lay moralists
are very numerous in the 16th and 17th centuries. Some
write long and heavy treatises on the art of governing,
the education of princes, the duties of subjects, &c. Pedro
Fernandez de Navarrete's Conservacion de Monarquias,
Diego de Saavedra Faxardo's Idea de uti Principe Cris-
tiano, Quevedo's La Politica de Dios y Gobierno de Cristo,
give a correct idea of the ability which the Spaniards
have displayed in this kind of didactic and preceptorial
literature, — ability of no high order, for the Spaniard,
when he means to teach and work out a doctrine, loses
himself in distinctions and rapidly becomes diffuse,
pedantic, and obscure. But there is a kind of morality
in which he indubitably excels, namely, in social satire,
■which, under all its forms, — dialogue and dream in the
style of Lucian, epistle after the manner of Juvenal, or
pamphlet, — has produced several masterpieces and a host
of ingenious, caustic, and aniusing compositions. Juan
<ie Valdes, the most celebrated of the Spanish Protestants,
led the way by his Dialogo dA Mercurio y Caron, where all
the great political and religious questions of the first half
of the 16th century are dis':ussed and resolved with admir-
able vigour and freedom. The king in the department
of social satire, as in those of literary and political satire,
is Quevedo. Nothing escapes his scrutinizing spirit and
pitiless irony. All the vices of the society of his time are,
in his Sueiios and many other little pamphlets, remorse-
lessly placed in the pillory and cruelly cut to pieces.
While this great satirist, in philosophy a disciple of
Seneca, imitates his master even in his style of writing, he
is none the less one of the most vigorous and original
writers of the i7th century. The only serious defect in
his style is that it is too full, not of figures and epithets,
but of. thoughts. His phrases, are of set purpose charged
with a double meaning, and we are never sure on reading
•whether we have taken in all that the author meant to
■convey. Concepfism is the name that has been given to this
refinement of thought, which was doomed in time to fall
into the ambiguous and equivocal ; it must not be con-
founded with the cultism of G6ngora, the artifice of which
lies solely in the choice and arrangement of words. This
new school, of which Quevedo may be regarded as the
founder, had its Boileau in the person of Baltasar Gracian,
who in 1642 published his Agudeza y Arte d^ Ingenio, in
which all the subtleties of conceptism are very exactly
reduced to a code. Gracian, who had the gift of senten-
tious moralizing rather than of satire, produced in his
Crilicon animated pictures of the society of his own day,
while he also displayed much ingenuity in little collections
of political and moral aphorisms which have procured
liim a great reputation abroad, — El Heroe, El Politico Fer-
nando el Catolico, Oraculo Manual y Arte de Prudencia.
Spanish thought as well as public spirit and all other
forms 'of national activity began to decline towards the
close of the 17th century. The advent of the house of
Bourbon, and the increasing invasion of French influence
in the domain of politics as well as in literature and
science, confirmed this decay by rendering abortive the
efforts of a few writers who had remained faithful to the
pure Spanish tradition. In the hands of the second-rate
imitators of Calderon the stage sank ever lower and lower;
lyric poetry, already compromised by the jjomp and gali-
matias of G6ngora, was abandoned to wretched rhymsters,
who tried without success to make up by extravagance of
style for meanness of thought. In a word, everything
was suffering from anaemia. The first symptoms, not
of a revival, but of a certain resumption of intellectual
production appear in the department of linguistic study.
In 1714 there was created, on the model of the French
academies, La Eeal Academia Espafiola, intended to main-
I tain the purity of the language and to correct its abuses.
This Academy set itself at once to work, and in 1726 was
able to commence the publication of its dictionary in six
volumes folio, the best title of this association to the
gratitude of men of letters. The Gramatica de la Lengua
Castellawa, drawn up by the Academy, did not appear till
1771. For the new ideas which were introduced into
Spain as the result of more intimate relations with France,
and which were in many cases repugnant to a nation for
two centuries accustomed to live a self-contained life, it
was necessary that fully sanctioned patrons should be
found. D. Ignacio de Luzan, well read in the literatures
of Italy and France, a disciple of Boileau and the French
rhetoricians, yet not without some originality of his own,
undertook in his Poetica (1737) to expound to his fellow-
countrymen the rules of the new school, and, above all, the
principle of the famous " unities " accepted by the French
stage from Corneille's day onward. What Luzan had
done for letters, Benito Feyjoo (1676-1764), a Benedictine
of good sense and great learning, did for the sciences.
His Teatro Critico (1726-1729) and Cartas Eruditas y
Curiosas (1742-1760), coUections of dissertations in
almost every department of human knowledge, intro-
duced the Spaniards to the leading scientific discoveries of
foreign countries, and helped to deliver them from many
superstitions and absurd prejudices. " The. study of the
ancient classics and the department of learned research
in the domain of national histories and literatures had
an eminent representative in Gregorio Mayans y Siscar
(died 1782), who worthily carried on the great traditions
of the renaissance ; besides publishing good editions of old
Spanish autborSj he gave to the world in 1757 a Petorica
which is still worth consulting and a number of learned
memoirs. What may be called the liUerature d'agrement
did not recover much lost ground ; it would seem as if
the vein had been exhausted. Something of the old
picaresque novel came to life again in the Historia del
Famoso Predicador Fray Gerundio de Campazas of the
Jesuit Jos6 Francisco de Isla, a biographical romance
which is also and above all — to the detriment, it is
true, of the interest of the narrative — a satire on the
follies of the preachers of the day ; the history of Fray
Gerundio is merely a pretext, as it were, for displaying and
holding up to ridicule the eloquence of the pulpit at the
sorry pass to which it had then been brought by the
ignorance and bad taste of the Spanish clergy. Isla is
known also by his translation of Gil Bias, a work which
he professed to restore to his native country, trying ta
make out — unsuccessfully, of course — that Le Sage had no
other merit than that of rendering it into French. The
lyric poetry of this period is very pale and colourless
when compared with its dazzling splendour in the preced-
ing century. Nevertheless one or two poets can be named
who were possessed uf refiiiemeat of taste, and whose
CASTILIAN.
SPAIN
361
collections of verse, though wanting in genuine inspiration,
at least show respect for the language antl will always
meet with some appreciation. At the head of the now
'school is Juan Menendez Valdes (1754-1817), and with
his are associated the names of P. Diego Gonzales (1733-
1794), Jos6 Iglesias de h. Casa (1748-1791), known
especially by his letritlas, iSicasio Alvarez de Cienfuegos
(1764-1809), and some others. Among the verse writers
of the 18th century who produced odes and didactic
poetry it is only necessary to mention Lcandro Fernandez
de Moratin (1760-1828) and ilanuel Jose Quintana
(1772-1857), but the latter belongs rather to the present
/'century, during the first half of which he published bis
[most important works. The poverty of the period in lyric
poetry is even exceeded by that of the stage. Here no
kind of comedy or tragical drama arose to take the place
of the ancient comedia, whose platitudes and absurdities
of thought and expression had ended by disgusting even
the least e.\acting portion of the public. The attempt
was indeed made to introduce the comedy and the tragedy
of France, but the stiff and pedantic adaptations of such
writers as Agustin de Jlontiano y Luyando (1697-1764),
Tomas do Iriarte (1750-1791), Garcia de la Huerta, and
the well-known economist Gaspar de Jovelknos (1744-
1811) were unable to interest the great mass of play-
goer?- The only one who was really successful in com-
posing on the French pattern some, pleasant comedies,
which owe much of their charm to the great purity of the
language in which they are written, is Leandro Fernandez
d6 Moratin ; his best pieces are La Nueva Comedia, a
parody on the extravagant work of Comella, a playwright
of the period. El Viejo y la Kii'ia, El Baron, and jjarti-
cularly El Si de las Niilas. It has to be added that the
mynete was cultivated in the 18th century by one writer
of genuine talent, Eamon de la Cruz ; nothing helps us
better to an acquaintance with the curious Spanish society
of the reign of Charles IV. than the intermezzos of this
genial and light-hearted author.
The terrible struggle of the War of Independence
(1808-1814), which was destined to have such important
, consequences in the world of politics, did not exert any
immediate influence on the literature of Spain. One
might have expected as a consequence of the rising of the
whole nation against Napoleon that Spanish writers would
have given up seeking their inspiration from those of
France, and would iiave tried to resume the national
traditions which had been broken at the end of the 17th
century. But nothing of the sort occurred. Not only
the afrancesados (as those were called who had accepted
the new r6gime), but also the most ardent jiartisans of the
patriotic cause, continued in literature to be the submis-
Bivc disciples of France. Quintana, who in hia inflam-
matory odes preached to his compatriots the duty of
resistance and revenge, has nothing of the innovator about
him ; by his education and by his literary doctrines he
remains a man of the 18th century. The same may be
said of Francisco Martinez de la llosa (1789-1848), who,
however, from his intercourse with Horace, whom he trans-
lated with skill into good Castilian verse, had a greater
independence of spirit and a more highly trained and
classical taste. And, when romanticism begins to find its
way into Spain and to enter into conflict with the spirit
and habits of the 18th century, it is still to France that
the poets and prose writers of the new school turn, much
more than cither to F.ngland or to Germany. The first
deci<lcdly romantic poet of the generation which nourished
about 1830 was the duke of Kivas, Angel do Saavedra
(1791-1856); no one succeeded better in reconciling the
genius of Spain and the tendencies of modern jioetry ; his
epic jH'Jem El Mnm EajH^il'i nnti Msj druma of Dmi. Alvurn
6 la Fuerza del Sino belong as much to the old romances
and old theatre of Spain as to the romantic spirit of 1830.
On the other hand, Jose de Espronceda (1808-1842), who
has sometimes been called the Spanish Musset, savours
much less of the soil than the duke of Rivas ; he is a quite
cosmopolitan romanticist of the school of Byron and the
French imitators of Byron ; an exclusively lyric poet, he
did not live long enough to give full proof of his genius,
but what he has left is certainly exquisite. Jos6 Zorrilla
(born 1817) has a more flexible and exuberant but much
more unequal talent than Espronceda, and if the latter
has written too little it cannot but be regretted that .
the former should have produced too much ; nevertheless,
among a multitude of hasty performances, brought out
before they haJ been matured, his Don Juan Tenorio, a
new and fantastic version of the legend treated by Tirso
de Molina and Molifere, will always remain as one of th»
most curious specimens of Spanish romanticism. In the
dramatic literature of this period it is noticeable that the
tragedy more than the comedy is modelled on the examples
furnished by the French drama of the Restoration; thus,
if we leave out of account the play of Garcia Gutierrei
(born 1813) entitled El Trovador, which inspired the
well-known opera of Verdi, and Los A mantes de Teruel of
Juan Eugenio Hartzenbusch (born 1806), and a few others,
all the dramatic work belonging to this date recalls more
or less the manner of the professional playwrights of the
boulevard theatres, while on the other hand the comedy
of manners still preserves a certain originality and a
genuine local cdoar. Manuel Breton de los Herreroa
(1796-1873), who wrote as many as a hundred comedies,
some of them of the first order after their kind, apart
from the fact of their being written in language of great
excellence, adheres with great fidelity t'o the tradition of
the 17th century; he is the last of those writers who
have preserved the feeling of the ancient comedia. One
prose writer of the highest talent must be mentioned
along with Espronceda. with whom he has in the moral
aspect several features in common, — namely, D. Jos6 de
Larra (1809-1837), so famous by his pseudonym of
" Figaro," with which he signed the greater number of his
■works. Caustic in temper, of a keenly observant spirit,
remarkably sober and clear as a writer, he was specially
successful in the political pamphlet, the article d' act itaUtisy
to this category belong his Cartat de nn I'ohrecito llahlador,
in which he ridicules without pity the vices and oddities
of his contemporaries ; his reputation is much more largely
due to those letters than either to his somewhat feeble
play of Macias or to his not very attractive novel Et
Doncel de Enrique el Doliente. With Larra must be asso-
ciated two other humoristic writers. The first of these is
liamon Mesonero Romanes, " El Curioso Parlante " (bom
1803), whose Escenas Matritenses, although not possessed
of the literary value of Larra's articles, give pleasure by
their good-natured gaiety and by the curious details they
furnish with regard to the contemporary society of Madrid.
The other is Serafin Estibanez Calderon, "El Solitario"
(1799-1867), who in his Escenas Andahtzes sought to re-
vive the manner of the satirical and picaresque writers of
the 17th century; in a uselessly archaic language of his
own, patched u)) from fragments taken from Cervantes,
Quevcdo, and others, he has delineated with a peculiar but
somewhat artificial grace various piquant scenes of Anda-
lusian or Madrilcnian life. The most prominent literary
critics belonging to (he first generation of the century were
Alberto Lista (1775-1848), whoso critical doctrine may bo
described as a compromise betwcLMi tho ideas of French
classicism and those of the romantic school, and Agustin
Uuran (died 1862), who made it his special task to restore
to honour tho old literature of Castile, particularly it«
XXU. — 46
362
SPAIN
[literature.
rom-inces, which he had studied with unequalled thorough-
ness, and of which he published highly esteemed collections.
If the struggle between classicists and romanticists
Continued even alter 1830, and continued to divide the
literary world into two opposing camps, it is plain that
the new generation — that which occupied the scene from
18'tO till about I8G8— had other preoccupations. The
triumph of the new ideas is now assured ; only a few
reactionaries are still seen to cling to the principles
bequeathed by the ISth century. What was now being
aimed at was the creation of a new literature which should
be truly national and no longer a mere echo of that
beyond the I'yrenees. To the question whether contem-
porary fcjpain has indeed succeeded iu calling into exist-
ence such a literature, we may well hesitate to give an
aHirmative answer. It is true that in every species of com-
position, the gravest as well as the lightest, it can show
works of genuine talent; but many of them are strik-
ingly deficient in originality ; all of them either bear un-
mistakable traces of imitation of foreign models, or show
(n)ore or less happily) the imprint of the older literature
of the 17th century, to which the historical criticism of
Duran and the labours of various other scholars had given
a flavour of novelty. With this observation before him,
the student can divide the authors of this period into two
groups, — the one composed of thoss who, won by modern
ideas, are more or less liberal in politics, and draw their
inspiration in all they wi-ite from France or from what they
are able to assimilate of other literatures through France ;
the other consisting of ultra-conservatives, whose dream in
every sphere — letters, art, and politics — is the restoration
of the Spain of the past. Nowhere does this antagonism
manifest itself more clearly than in the drama. A play of
Aureliano Fernandez G ucrra might have been conceived and
written by a contemporary of Lope or of Calderon, while a
comedy of Adelardo Lopez de Ayala is moulded in the
pattern given by the younger Dumas and by Augier. In
the department of romance, on the other hand — much
neglected by the writers of the first half of the century —
the Spaniards have recovered something of the genius of
Cervantes and their 17th century novelas picarescas. The
art of constructing a story and of telling it in an agreeable
way, which seemed for a long time to have been lost, is
recovered in such authors as Fernan Caballero, Antonio
de Trueba, Pedro Antonio de Alarcon, Juan Valera, Perez
Galdos, and Pereda. These novelists are far from alike
in method or in spirit; how widely separated, for example,
are the somewhat banal facility and the sentimental
Catholicism of Fernan Caballero on the one hand, and the
searching psychological analysis and the fine scepticism of
Juan Valera on the other. But all have this in common,
that they understand how to interest their readers, and how
to make their characters live and speak. Incontcstably the
novel is the triumiih of contemporary Spanish literature;
it bi almost the only kind of composition tha'- actually
lives with a life of its own and makes steady progress.
One cannot say as much of lyric poetry, represented feebly
enough by Ramon de Campoamor, Nunez de Arco, and
some others. Deficient inspiration, diffuseness of style,
and want of precision in language characterize them all ;
it is unfortunately very easy to make mediocre verses iu
Spanish, and too many people give themselves over to
the pursuit. Passing from the literature of amusement,
we have still some very distinguished names to enumerate.
Philosophy, indeed, has but one representative of merit,
the traditionalist Jaime Balmes, — for the Krausist school,
an importation from Germany, may be ignored here, — •
but history and literary criticism have been cultivated
during the last thirty years or so with genuine success.
Modesto Lafuente is in some sort the ilariana of the I'Jth
century; muoh inferior as a writer to the celebrated Jesuit,
he has, however, always manifested the same passion for
his subject, the same persevering determination to raise a
worthy monument of his fatherland ; his Jlistoria de Esjxina,
in spite of all its defects, deserves respect, and is at least
readable. Although primarily a politician, Antonio C^no-
vas del Castillo has many of the qualities which go to tho
making of a good historian ; he has evinced greater acute-
ness and larger acquirements than Lafuente, and his Ensayo
soOre la Casa de Austria en Espaiia, founded upon a careful
examination of a large number of documents, gives evidence
of a correct judgment and praiseworthy impartiality. The
literary history of old Spain has been treated in a niasterljj
manner by Aureliano Fernandez Guerra in various studies
devoted to the great wTiters of the 17th century, notably
Quevedo, and also quite recently by a young and talented
scholar, Marcelino Menendez Pelayo, whose Historia de lax
Ideas Estetkas en Espaiia, .a work as solid in its substance
as it is pure in its style, would do honour to any veteran
in literature. As regards criticism of contemporary litera-
ture, no one shows more spirit and taste than Juan Valera,
whose delicate Andalnsian nature has been matured by a
refining education and by an adequate knowledge of foreign
literatures.
BibI ioijrapliij. — The base of the student's operations is alwaya
the grent work of Nicolas Antonio, Bibliothcca Hispana Vclus ami
JSililiotlieca liispnna Nora, in tlie revised and coinpleted edition of
Francisco Vcm Baj'cr, Tomas Antonio Sanchez, and Juan Antonio
Pellicer (Madrid, 1783-88, 4 vols. fob). The student can affoid
to disregard all the fjeneial histories which preceded Ticknor's
History of Sjianisk Literature (New York, 1849, 3 vols. 8vo , 4th
cd., Boston, 1872, 3 vols. 8vo), a work of solid value, especially
froni tho bibliographical point of view ; it is quite in.disp^.nsable
that the reader should consult also the Spanish translation by
D. Pascual de Gayangos and Enrique de Vedia (Madrid, 1851-.56)
and the German translation of Julius with some important additions
by Ferdinand Wolf (Leipsic, 1852-67). Nothing can be said in
favour of tlie French translation by J. G. JIagnabal (Paris, 1864-
72). The Jlistoria Critica de la Litcratura Espanola of Josf
Amador de los Rios (Madrid, 1861-65, 7 vols. Svo), although d^
ficient in criticism and full of errors in fact, supplies some usefu!
information as to the period jirior to the 15th century, with which
it exclusively deals. Menendez Pelayo's Historia ele las Ideas Esti-
ticas en Espaiia (Madrid, 1884-86, 3 vols. 8vo), already referred to.
is very instructive. For the 18th century, Leopoldo A. de Cueto's
" Bosquejo Historico-Critico de la Poesia Castellana en el Siglo
xviii.," prefixed to the first vol. of Rivadeneyra's Poetas Liricosdel
Siglo xxnit., is indispensable. For the 19th century there is not as
yet any satisfactory work dealing with the literature as a whole ;
that of M, G. Hubbard, Hisloirc dc la Littirature CoTticmporainc
en Espngne (Paris, 1876, 1 vol. Svo), although superficial and
inaccurate, is useful in tho absence of anything better. Some
descriptions of Caatiliau literature have been specially studied with
care and competence, notably the drama, on which we have two
tlioiough works, — Frederick von Schack's Geschichte dcr dravia-
tischen Ltteratxir u. Kunsl in Spanicn (Fiankfort-on-the-Maiu,'
1846-54, 3 vols. Svo), unfortunately now nuich behindhand, and
iu no way improved in this respect in the Spanish translation now
in course of publication at Madrid under the superintendence of
Eduardo de Jlier, and C.iyetano Alberto de la Barrera's excellent
Catdlogo BHiliognifico y Biogrtifico del Tcatro Antigiio Espanol (Ma-
drid, 1860, large Svo). On tlie Castilian literature of the Middle
Ages, the works to be consulted are Ferdinand Wolf's Studien
~>ir Gcschiclite dcr Spaitischcn u. Portngiesisclicn Nationnlliteratur
(Berlin, 1859, 1 vol. Svo) and Manuel Mild y Foiitanals's De la
Boesia If croico- Popular Castellana (Barcelona, 1874, 1 vol. Svo).
II. Catalan Litekatore. — Although the Catalan lan-
guage is simply a branch of the southern Gallo-Roman,
the literature, in its origin at least, ought to be considered
as a mere appendix of that of Provence. Nay more,
until about the second half of the 13th century there
existed in the Catalan districts no other literature than
the Provencal, and the poets of north-eastern Spain used
no other language than that of the troubadours. Guillem
de Bergadan, Uc de Mataplana, Ramon Vidal de Besalii,
Guillem de Cervera, Serveri de Gerona, and several other
verse writers of a still more recent date are all genuine
Provencal poets, in the same sense as are those o£
CATALAN.]
SPAIN
363
Limousin, Quercy, or Auvergne, since tbcy write in the
langue dCoc and make use of all the forms of poetry culti-
vated by the troubadours north of the Pyrenees. Ramon
Vidal (end of 12th century and beginning of 13th) was
a grammarian as well as a ix>et ; his Rasos de Trohar
became the code for the Catalan poetry written in Pro-
venijal, which he called Levioei, a name still kept up in
Spain to designate, not the literary idiom of the trouba-
dours only, but also the local idiom — Catalan, — which the
Spaniards choose to consider as derived from the former.
The influence of R. Vidal and other grammarians of his
school, as well as that of the troubadours we have
named, lasted for a very long time ; and even after
Catalan prosc — an exact reflexion of the spoken language
of the south-east of the Pyrenees— had given evidence of
its vitality in some considerable works, the Catalan poetry
remained faiihful to the Provencal tradition. From th&
combination of spoken Catalan with the literary language
of the troubadours there arose a sort of composite idiom,
which Ms some analogy with the Franco-Italian current
in certain parts of Italy in the Middle Ages, although in the
one case the elements of the mixture are more distinctly
apparent than are the romance of France and the romance
of Italy in the other. The poetical works of Raymond Lully
(Ramon Lull) (died 1315) are among the oldest e-amples of
this Provenqalized Catalan ; one has only to read the fine
piece entitled Lo Desconort (" Despair "), or some of his
stanzas on religious subjects, to apprehend at once the
eminently composite nature of that language. Muutancr
in like manner, whoso prose is exactly that spokeu by his
contemporaries, becomes troubadour when ho writes in
verse ; his Sermb on the conquest of Sardinia and Corsica
(1323), introduced into his Chronicle of the kings of
-iragon, exhibits linguistically quite the same mixed
character as is found in Lully, or, wo may venture to say,
in all the Catalan verse writers of the 14th century.
These are not very numerous, nor are their works of any
great merit. The majority of their compositions consist
of what were called novts rimades, that is, stories in
octo.syilabic verse in rhymed couplets. There exist poems
of this class by Pere March, by a certain Torrella, by
Bernat Metge (an author more celebrated for his prose),
and by others whoso names we do not know ; among the
works belonging to this last category special mention
ought to bo made of a version of the romance of the Seven
Sages, a translation of a book on good breeding entitled
Facelus, and certain tales where, by the choice of subjects,
by various borrowings, and even occasionally by the whole-
sale introduction of pieces of French poetry, it is clearly
evident that the writers of Catalonia understood and read
the langue d'md. Closely allied to the noves rimades is
another analogous form of versification — that of the codo-
lada, consisting of a series of verses of eight and four
syllables, rhyming in pairs, still made use of in one por-
tion of the Catalan domain (Majorca).
The 15th. century is the golden age of Catalan poetry.
At the instigation and under the auspices of John I.
(1387-1395), Martin L (1395-1410), and Ferdinand L
(1410-1416), kings of Aragon, there was founded at
Barcelona a consistory of the "Gay Saber," on the model
of that of Toulouse, and this official protection accorded
to poetry was the beginning of a new stylo much more
emancipated from Provencal influence. It cannot bo
denied, indeed, that its forms are still of foreign importa-
tion, that the Catalan verse writers accei)t the prcscrip-
tion.s of the Leys d'Amor of Guillaumo Molinicr, and the
names which they gavo to their cobles (stanzas) are all
borrowed from the same art de trohnr of tho school of
Toulouso ; but, a very noteworthy fact, their language
begins to rid itself more and nioro of I'rovencalisms and
tends to become the same as that of prose and of ordinary
conversation. With Pere and Jaume March, Jordi de
Sant Jordi, Johan de Masdovijlles, Francesch Ferrer, Pere
Torroella, Pau de Bellviure, Antoni Vallm'anya, and, above
all, the Valencian Auzias March (died 1459), there flourished
a new school, of which tho eclat lasted till the end of the
15th century, and which, as regards the form of its versi-
fication, is distinguished by its almost exclusive employ-
ment of eight-verse cobles of ten syllables, each with,
"crossed" or "chained" rhymes (cobla crohada or encade-
jinda), each composition ending with a tomada of four
Vejses, in the first of whiih the " device " (divis or senyal)
of tho poet is given out. The greater number of these
poems are still unedited or have only recently been
extracted from the canpners, where they had been col-
lected in the 15th certnry. Auzias March alone, the
most inspired, the mcst profound, but also the most
obscure of the whole gniup, had the honour to be printed,
in the 16th century; ]\\3 cants d'ainor axii cants de mort
contain the finest verse) ever written in Catalan, but tho
poet fails to keep up x) his own high level, and by his
studied obscurity occasionally becomes unintelligible to
such a degree that one of his editors accuses him of
having written in Basque. Of a wholly different class,
and in quite another spirit, is the Libre de les Dones of
Jaume Eoig (died 1478), a Valencian also, like March ; this
long poem is a nova rimada, only coniediada, that is to say,
it is in quadrisyllable instead of octosyllabic verse. A
bitter and caustic satire upon women, it purparts to be a
true history,— the history of the poet himself and of hi*
three unhappy marriages in particular. Notwithstaiiding
its author's allegations, however, the Libre de Its Dones
does not seem to be other than a fiction ; but it derives a
very piquant interest from its really authentic etcment, its.
vivid picture of the Valencia of tho 15th con'ary and th«,
details of the manners of that time. Afti.-r this bright
period of efflorescence Catalan poetry ra'^idly fell off, t-
decline due more to the force of circumstances than to any
fault of the poets. The union of Aragon with Castile, and
the resulting predominance of Castilian throughout Spaiuj
inflicted a death blow on Catalan literature, especially on
its artistic poetry, a kind of composition more ready than
any other to avail itself of the triumphant idiom whicl^
soon came to be regarded by men of letters as the only
noble one, and alone fit to be the vehicle of elevated or
refined thoughts. The fact that a Catalan, Juan Boscan.
inaugurates in the Castilian language a new kind of poetry,
and that the Castilians themselves regard him as the head
of a school, is important and characteristic ; the date of
the publication of the works of Boscan (1543) marks the
end of Catalan poetry.
The earliest prose works in Catalan are later indeed than
the poems of the oldest Catalan troubadours of tho Pro-
ventjal school, not dating farther back than from tho close
of the 13th century, but they have the advantage of being
entirely original ; their language is the very language of
tho soil which wo sco appearing in charters from about
the time of the accession of James I. (1213). This is
true especially of the chronicles, a little less so of the
other writings, which, like the poetry, have difficulty in
escaping Iho influence of the more polished dialect ot tno
country to the north of tho Pyrenees. Its chronicles are
the best ornament of mediaeval Catalan prose. Four of
them, — that of James I., apparently reduced to writing a
little after hia death (127G) with tho help of memoirs
dictated by himself during his lifetime; that of Bernat
Dcs Clot, which deals chiclly with the reign of Pedro 1 II. of
Aragon (1276-1286); that of Ramon Muntancr (first half
of the II th century), relating at length the expedition ot
the Catalan company to the Morea and the conquest
364
SPAIN
[UTEEATUBB,
of Sardinia by James U. ; linally that of Pedro IV:,
The Ceremonious (1336-1387), genuine commentaries of
that astute monarch, arranged by certain officials of his
court, notably by Bernat Des Coll, — these four works are
disting,uished alike by the artistic skill of their narration '
and by the quality of their language ; it would not be too
much to liken these Catalan chrouiclers, and Muntaner
especially, to Villehardouin, Joinville, and Froissart. The
Doctor Illuminatus, Ivaymond Lully, whose acquaintance
with Latin was very poor, — his philosophical works were
done into that language by his disciples, — wrote in a some-
what Proven^alized Catalan various moral and propagandist
works, — the romance Blanquerna in praise of the solitary
life, the Libre deles Maravelles, into which is introduced a
" bestiary " taken by the author from Kalilah and Dim-
nag, and the Lihre del Orde de Cavalleria, a manual of
the perfect knight, besides a variety of other treatises and
opuscula of minor importance. The majority of the writ-
ings of Lnlly exist in two versions, — one in the vernacular,
which is his own, the other in Latin, originating with
his disciples, who desired to give currency throughout
Christendom to their master's teachings. Lully — who was
very popular in the lay world, although the clergy had a
low opinion of him and in the loth century even set
themselves to obtain a condemnation of his works by the
Inquisition — had a rival in the person of Francesch Ximenez
or Eximeniz, a Franciscan, born at Gerona some time
after 1350. His Crestid (printed in 1483-84) is a vast
encyclopjedia of theology, morals, and politics for the use
of the laity, ^upijlemented ia various aspects by his three
other works — Vida de Jesii Christ, Lihre dels Angels, and
Libre de les Dones ; the last-named, which is at once a
book of devotion and a manual of domestic economy, con-
tains a number of curious details as to a Catalan woman's
manner of life and the luxury of the period. Lully and
Eximeniz are the only Catalan authors of the 14th century
whose works written in a vulgar tongue had the honour of
being translated into French shortly after their appearance. '
We have chiefly translators and historians in the 15th
«ntury. Antoni Canals, a Dominican, who belongs also
to the previous century, translates into Catalan Valerius
Maxim us and a treatise of St Bernard; Bernat Metge
himself well-versed in Italian literature, presents some of
its great masters to his countrymen by translating the
Griselidis of Petrarch, and also by composing Lo Sompni
(" The Dream"), in which the influence of Dante, of Boccac-
|cio, and, generally speaking, of the Italy of the 13th and
J4th centuries is very perceptible. The Feyts d^Armes de
Catalunya of Bernat Boades, a knightly chronicle brought
to a close in 1420, reveals a spirit of research and a con-
scientiousness in the selection of materials which are truly
femarkable for the age in which it was written. On the
other hand, Pere Tomich, in hi& Histories e Conquestes del
Reyalme d'Arago (1438), carries us back too much to the
inanner of the mediseval chroniclers ; his credulity knows
no bounds, while his style has altogether lost tlie naive
charm of that of Muntaner. To the list of authors who
represent the leading tendencies of the literature of the
1.5th century we must add the name of Johanot Martorell,
a Valencian, author of the celebrated romance of chivalry
Tirant lo Blanch (finished in 1460), which the reader has
.nowadays some difficulty iu regarding as that "treasury
of contentment " which Cervantes wUl have it to be.
With the loss of political was bound to coincide that of
literary independence in the Catalonian countries. Cata-
lan fell to the rank of a patois and was written less and
less ; lettered persons ceased to cultivate it, and the upper
classes, especially in Valencia, owing to the proximity of
Castile, soon affected to make no further use of the local
^:eech° except in familiar conversation. The 16th centiiry,
in fact, tnrmshes literary history with hardly more than a
single poet at all worthy of the name — Pere Serafl, some
of whose pieces, in the style of Auzias JIarch, but less
obscure, are graceful enough and deserve to live ; his poems
were printed at Barcelona in 1565. Prose is somewhat
better represented, but, to tell the truth, it is only the
erudite who persist in writing in Catalan, — antiquaries
and historians like Pere Miguel Carbonell, compiler of
the Chroniques de Espanya (1547), Francesch Tarafa, Pere
Anton Beuter, also chroniclers, and some others not so
well known. In the 17th and 18th centuries the
decadence becomes still more marked. A few scattered
attempts to restore to the Catalan, now more arid mora
neglected by men of letters, some of its old life and
brilliance, fail miserably. Neither Hieronim Pujades the
historian, author of a Coronica Universal del Principal
(Barcelona, 1609), nor even Dr Vicens Garcia, rector of
Vallfogona (1582-1623), a verse-writer by no means
destitute of verve or humour, but whose literary talent
and originality have been very greatly exaggerated'by the
Catalans of the present day, was able to br-ing back hia
countrymen to a cultivation of the local idiom. Some
sermons, some lives of saints, some books of devotion,
some relations and complaints for the use of the people, '
exhaust the catalogue of everything written in Catalan
throughout the whole area of its domains down to the
beginning of the present century ; not a single book oi
importance can be mentioned. Writers who were Catalan
by birth had so completely unlearned their mother-tongue
that it would have seemed to them quite inappropriate,
and even ridiculous, to make use of it in serious works, so
profoundly had Castiliari struck its roots in the eastern
provinces of Spain, and so thoroughly had the work of
assimilation been carried out to the advantage of the!
official language of the court and of the Government.
In 1814 appeared the Gramdtica y Ajiologia de la
Llengua Cathalana of Joseph Pau Ballot y Torres, which
may be considered as marking the origin of a genuine
renaissance of the grammatical and literaty study of
Catalan. Although the author avows no object beyOnd
the purely practical one of giving to strangers visiting
Barcelona for commercial purposes some knowledge of the
language, the enthusiasm with which he sings the praises
of his mother-tongue, and his appended catalogue of works
which have appeared in it since the time of Ja'mes I.,
suSiciently show that this was not his only aim. In point
of fact the book, which is entitled to high considerationj
as being the first systematic Catalan grammar, written, too,:
in the despised idiom itself, had a great influence on tha
authors and literary men of the principality. Under tha'
helping influence of the new doctrines of romanticisni
twenty years had not passed before u number of attempts'
in the way of restoring the old language had made their
appearance, in the shape of various poetical works of very
unequal merit. The Oda d la Patria (1833) of Buenaven-
tura Carlos Aribau is among the earliest if not actually^
the very first of these, and it is also the best ; the modern
Catalan school has not produced anything either more
inspired or more correct. Following in the steps of
Aribau, Joaquin Eubi6 y Ors {Lo Gayter del Llobregat)^
Antonio de Bofarull {Lo Coblejador de Moncada), and soon
afterwards a number of other verse writers took up the
lyre which it might have been feared was never to sound
again since it fell from the hands of Auzias March. The
movement spread from Catalonia into ether provinces of
the ancient lungdom of Aragon ; the appeal of the Catalans!
of the principality was responded to at Valencia and in
the Balearic Isles. Later, the example of Provence, of the
felihritge of the south of France, accelerated still furtheD
this renaissance movement, which received official recognii
S P A — S P A
365
tion in 1859 by the creation of the jochs florals, in which
prizes are given to the best competitors in poetry, of
whom some succeed in obtaining the diploma of mestre en.
gay saber. It is of course impossible to foresee the future
of this new Catalan literature, — whether it is indeed
destined for that brilliant career which the Catalans them-
Bclves anticipate. In spite of the unquestionable talent
of poets like Mariano Aguil6 (Jlajorca), Teodoro Llorente
{Valencia), and, among the younger of them, Jacinto
Verdaguer (Catalonia), author of an epic poem Atlantida
and of very fascinating Cants J/islichs, it is by no means
certain that this generation will be succeeded by another
to follow in its footsteps, or that such a restoration of a
provincial literature has much chance of permanence at
the very moment when all the peoples of Europe are tend-
ing rather towards unity and centralization in the matter
of language. At all events, in order to secure even a
comparative success for such a revival, it would be well
if the language serving as its instrument were some-
what more fixed, and if its writers would no longer
hesitate, as they at present do, between a pretentious
archaisni and the incorrectness of the most vulgar col-
loquialism. The few attempts of modern Catalans iu the
direction of romance writing and dramatic composition
have not hitherto been particularly felicitous, and have
not led to anything noteworthy.
Bibliograplnj.—Josi Rodriguez, BilUoteca Valenlina, 1 vol. fol.,
Valencia, 1747; Xlmeno, Escritorcs' del Rcyno dc Fnlencia, 2 Tola,
fol., Valencia, 1747-49; Fuster, Eiblioteca Valeiiciaiia, 2 vols, fol.,
A'alencia. 1827-30 ; Torres Aniat, ilaaorlns para ayiiditr d formar
^m Diccimiano Crllico de los Escrilorcs Calalancs, Barcelona, 1836;
supplement by. J. Corminas, Buigos, 1849; F. R. Canibouliu,
Essaisur VHisloirc dc la LitUrature Calala:ie, Paris, 1858 ; A. Hel-
ferrich, Haymond tail und die An/dnge dcr Catalonischen Litemtur,
Berlin, 1858 (compare on the last two works the article by Ad.
Ebert in the Jahrb. f. ro;imnisclie u. englisclie Literalur, ii. 241) ;
JIanual Jlila y Foutanals, Vc los Trovadores en Espafia, Barcelona,
1861; Id., " Catalanische Dichter" (14th and 15th centuries), in
Jahrb./. rom. Lit., v. 137; Id., " Eesenya Historica Critica dels
Anticlis Poetas Catalans," in the Joehs Florals of Barcelona for
1865; Id., various articles in the Revue des Langues Somancs; P.
Meyer in Romania, passim; Morel-Fatio, ibid. For the modern
period see Joaqniu Rubio y Ors, Srcve Rcseiia del Actual Reuaci-
micnto de la Lcngua y Literalura CatalaiMS, Barcelona, 1877, and
Tnbino, Historia del Renacimiento Lilerario Coniemporanco «»
Cataluiia, Baleares, y ValciKia, Madrid, 1879. (A. M.-F.)
Index.
•AbdaUah, 312.
Carlos, Don (king of
FerdinandVI,(Spain),339.
Joanna of Castile, 327.
Muntaner, 363.
RamiroI.-IIL, 311.
"Abd ttl-ltahmin (Abde-
Naples), 338.
Ferdinand VII_ 345.
John L (Aragon), 323.
Musa, 312.
Religion, 303.
rame) I.-ill., 310-313.
Carthaginian rule, 305.
Feyjoo, 360.
John 11., 324.
Nahan-o, 356.
Richelieu, 33L
Academia EspaHoIa, 360.
Castile, 312, 315, 318-322.
Finance, 304.
John L-IL (CastUe), 321.
Naples acquired, 327.
Eipperda, 338.
Administration, 303.
Castile and Leon, 317.
Fisheries, 300.
John, Don, of Austl4a,
Napoleon I., relations
Rivas, 362.
Agirculture, 298.
Castilian language, 349.
Flora, 296.
332.
ivith, 343.
Rivers, 295.
Alberoni, 337.
Castiiian literature, 353.
Horida Blanca, 340.
Joseph Bonaparte, 344.
Navarre, 312, 324. 325.
Roads, 303.
Aleman, 357.
CastiUejo, 357.
Forests, 297.
Junta, Holy, 328.
Navarrese-Aragonesa
Rodriguez of Toledo, DM.
^l/onso L-IL (Aragon),
Castro, 35&
Franks, 307.
Justice, 304.
dialect, 351.
Roig. 303.
316.
Catalan language, 347.
French invasion, 344.
Lakes, 295.
Navigation, 302.
Rojas, 356, 359.
Alfonso III., 322.
Catalan literature. 3C2.
Fruit, 300.
Language, 346.
Navy, 303.
Roman i-ule, 305.
Alfonso IV., 323.
Catalonia, 325.
Gaiician dialect, 352.
Larra, 361.
Nethei lands, relations
Romances. 354, 357, 861.
Alfonso v., 324.
Cattle, 300.
Game, 297.
Law, 304.
with, 328. 332.
Rome, papal, relations
Alfonso VI.-VIIL tCua-
Celtiberi, 305.
Garcia, Vicans, 364.
Leon, 311.
Niraeguen treaty, 333.
with, 315.
tile), 316.
Cervantes, 356, 357, 368.
Geology, 295.
Leon and Castile, 317
Olivares, 331.
Rosa, Martinez de U, 3M.
Alfonso X., 318, 354.
Charles I, 328.
Germany, lelations with.
Leonese dialect, 351.
Omayyads, 310.
Rueda, 356.
Alfonso XI., 319.
Charles II., 333.
329.
Letter wiiters, 359.
OidoiloI.-lIL,31I.
Ruiz. 353.
AUonaoI.-IlI.(Uon),311.
Charles III., 340.
Godoy, 342.
Literature, 352.
Oviedo, 311.
Ruiz de Alarcon, 359.
Alfonso XII. (Spain), 346.
Charles IV., 342.
Gdngora, 357.
Live stock, 300.
Padilla, Juan de, 328.
Sancho IV. (Castile), 8U:
Al-Ilakam I., 310.
Charles of Viana, 324.
Gonzales, 361.
Lope de Vega, 357, 368.
I'adilla, Maria de, 320.
Sancho L (Leon), 311.
Al-Makam II., 313.
Chivalry, books of, 354.
Gothic rule, 308.
Lopez de Ayala, 353.
Papacy, relations with.
Sancho the-Great, 31J.
Almunsov, 314.
Chri^tianity, early, 311.
Govemment, 303.
Lopez de Ubeda, 357.
315.
Sannazaro, 357.
Aknotiadcs, 316.
Christina, 345.
Gracian, 3C0.
Louis XIV. of France,
PatlBo, 338.
Saotillana, 355.
Almoravids, 316.
Chronicles, 351, 363.
Granada, 318.
335.
Pedro I. (Aragon), 317.
Santob, 353.
Alvaro de Luna, 321.
Churcli, 303.
Guzman, Perez de, 354.
Lucas of Tuy, 354.
Pedro IlL, 322.
Seven Years* War, 3M.
Amadeas of Aosta, 34&
Cid, 316, 353.
llammuditc dynasty, 315.
Luis de Leon, 367, 360.
Pedro IV., 323.
Seville treaty, 338.
Amadis de Gaula, 355.
Cimate, 296.
llapsburg line, 327, 334.
Lully, 363.
Pedro 1. (Castile), 320.
Sheep, 300.
American possessions.
Colonics, 29S, 327.
Harbours, 293.
Luzan, 360.
Peninsular War, 344.
Shipping, 303.
327, 340.
Columbus, 327.
Henry 11. (CastUe), 320.
JIanuel, Juan, 354.
Perez, Antonio, 329.
Sierras, 294.
Amirids, 3H.
Commerce, 302.
Henry III.-IV., 321.
Manufactures, 30L
Philip L, 327.
Sieic Parlidat, 313, 331.
Andalusian dialect, 351.
Communes, rising of, 328.
Henry of Trastamara, 320.
March, Auzias, 363.
Philip n., 329.
Solcimiin, 315.
Animals, 297.
Cmsaders, 316.
Hemiandad, 326.
Mai la Anna, 332.
Philip III., 330.
Spanish maniage^ 346.
Arab rnle, 309.
D'Aranda, 341.
Ilerrera, 357.
Maria Louisa, 342.
Philip IV., 33L
Spanish succession, 33i
Aiagon, 312. 315. 317,
l>on Quixote, 358.
flisham II., 314.
Maria Theresa of AusMa,
Philip v., 335.
Steppes, 297.
322-325.
Diama, Castiiian, 356,368.
Hispanla, 304.
339.
Physical features, 298,
Sugar culture, 300.
Area, 293, 297.
Education, 303.
Historical works, 359,303.
Mariana, 359.
297.
Tellez, 358.
Aribau, 364.
ICtizabeth Farnesc, 337.
History, 304.
Martin of Aiagon, 323.
Picaresque novels, 315.
Theatre, 356, 358.
Army, 803.
England, Interventions of,
Hita, I'erez de, 358,
Martinez do Toledo, 355.
Poetry, 353, 360, 363.
Thirty Years' War, SSL
Astuiian dialect, 350.
336, 338, 344.
Imports, 302.
Martorell, 364.
Polish succession, 333.
Tirso do Molina, 359.
fiacna, 355.
Espartero, 346-
Inquisition, 329, 346.
Mayans y Sisear. 360.
Piipulatlon, 298.
Union of kingdoms, 3ii,
Balearic Islands, 323.
Esplnel, 358.
Isabella 1 , 325.
Slendoza, 357, 360.
Portocarrero, 335.
326.
Ballot y Tones. 3C4.
Espronceda, 36L
Isabella H., 345, 346.
Mesta, La, 334.
Portugal, relations with,
Utrecht, treaty of, 836.
Barcelona county, 31L
Kximeniz, 364.
Italian posscaslona, 827,
Methucn treaty, 336.
329, 332, 333, 3i3.
Valdds, 360, 361.
Belbel■^ 310.
Exports, 302.
339.
Minerals, 300.
Portugueso language.
Vega, Garellaso de la, 337.
Devceo, 353.
Family compact, 339, 344.
James I. (Aragon), 317,
Moliammed, 312, 314.
351.
Vega, Lopo dc, 337, SM.
Bermudo L-III. (Leon),
Fauna, 297.
322.
Kloliammcdan rule, 309.
Post office, 303.
Vidal, 363
311, 312.
Ferdinand L (Aragon),
James II., 323.
Molina, Maria de. 319.
Pragmatic sanction, 838.
Vislgothic rule, 308.
Boscan, 357, 303.
324.
Jcnkinj'd ear, warof,S3P.
iMiintalvo, 355.
Provinces, 298.
Wellington, 344.
Breton de los Ilcn-eros,
Fcrdinana L (Caatlle),
Jesuits expelled, 341;
Monteinayor, 357.
Quadruple alliance, 337,
West-Gothic rule, 308.
301.
315.
restored, 345.
Moois, 310; expelled,
Quevedo, 357, 360.
West Indies dlsoonri^
Caldci-on, 350.
Ferdinand III., 317.
Jevs, 308 ; expelled, 826.
330.
t^uiiiones de Bcnoventc,
327.
Cancloncros, 3.55.
Ferdinand IV.. 319. 3.'.4.
Joanna Ilcnriquex, 324.
Moratin, 361.
359.
Wine, 299.
Caillst War, 3-16.
Ferdinand V. and Isa-
Joanna la lleltEau(^a,
Moriscoes, 330.
Quintana, 36L
Xlmenca. 337.
Carloa, Dou, 349.
beUa, 926.
325.
Mountains, 294.
UaUways, 303.
Zurlta,83«.
SPAXATIN, George (1484-1545). George Burkhardt,
\ nibordinate figure of some interest in the history of the
Reformation in Germany, was born on January 17, 1484,
at Spalt (whence he assumed the name Spalatinus), about
<26 iml(» from Nuremberg, where his father was aa artisan.
He went to Nuremberg for education wnen he was thirteen
years of age, and two years afterwards to the univcrisity of
Erfurt, where he took his bachelor's degree within a year;
in 1499. There ho attracteii the notice of Ma-Tjchalk, the
most iailuential professor, who mode Spalatin his amana.
366
S P A — S P A
cnsis and took him to Wittenberg. In 1505 Spalitm went
to Erfurt to study jurisprudence, was recommended to
Mutiasus, and was welcomed by the little band of German
humanists of whom Mutianus was chief. His friend got
him the post of teacher of young monks in a convent in the
Georgenthal and pastor in the high church there. In 1508
he was ordained priest by Bishop John von Laasphe, who
had ordained Luther. He had no great love for convent
or pastoral work, and in 1509 Mutianus recommended him
to Frederick the Wise, the elector of Saxony, who employed
him to act as tutor to his son, the future elector, John
Frederick. This appointment really determined Spalatin's
life and worL He speedily gained the confidence of the
famous elector, who employed him in many affairs. He
sent him to Wittenberg in 1511 to act as tutor to his
nephews, and procured for him a canon's stall in Altenberg.
In 1512 the elector made him his librarian. This brought
him into correspondence with a large number of literary
men, and he began to collect all kinds of literary and espe-
cially of historical information, of which he m.<ui» -astensiv-i
use later in his chronicles. He was promoted to be court
chaplain and confidential secretary to the elector, and took
charge of all his private and public correspondence. He
thus became one of the most important men at the elec-
toral court, which then was the centre of German life.
Spalatin had never cared for theology, and, although a
priest and a preacher, had been a mere humanist. It was
to Luther that he owed his awakening to the reality of a
spiritual life. How he first became acquainted with the
reformer it is impossible to say — probably at Wittenberg ;
but Luther from the first exercised a great power over
him, and became his chief counsellor in all moral and
religious matters. His letters to Luther have been lost,
but Luther's answers remain, and are extremely interest-
ing. Spalatin was Luther's devoted friend during the
stormiest days of the Reformation, and was the means of
bringing the great elector to take the side of the out-
spoken professor in his university of Wittenberg. He
read Luther's writings to the elector, and translated for his
benefit those in Latin into German. He accompanied
Frederick to the diet of Augsburg, and shared in the
negotiations with the papal legates, Cajetan and Miltitz.
He was with the elector when Charles was chosen emperor
and when ho was crowned. He was with his master at
the diet of Worms. In short, he stood beside Frederick
as his confidential adviser in all the troubled diplomacy of
the earlier years of the Reformation. Singularly cautious,
perhaps timid, before the crisis came and while it could
be averted, Spalatin found courage when the crisis had
come. He would have dissuaded Luther again and again
from publishing books or engaging in overt acts against
the papacy, but, when the thing was done, none was «o
ready to translate the hook, or to justify the act.
On the death of Frederick the Wise, Spalatin was as
much engaged in diplomatic service as before, but he no
longer lived at court. He went iato residence as canon at
Altenberg, and incited the chapter to institute reforms some-
what unsuccessfully. He married in the same year. During
the later portion of his life, from 1526 onwards, he was
chiefly engaged in the visitation of churches and schools in
electoral Saxony, reporting on the confiscation and applica-
tion of ecclesiastical revenues. His practical experience in
German affairs made him very successful in his delicate task,
and he was asked to undertake the same work for Albertine
Saxony. He was also permanent visitor of Wittenberg uni-
versity, and made an annual report of its condition to the
elector. Shortly before his death he fell into a state of pro-
found melancholy, and died January 16, 1545, at Altenberg.
Spalatin left behind him a largo number of literary remains,
both published and unnuldislied. His oiigiual writings arc almost
all historical. A list of them may be found in Seelhemi s George
Sjmlatiii als sdcJis. Historiograph, 1878. Tliere is no good life of
Spalatin, nor can there be until his 'otters have been collected and
edited, a worlc still to be done.
SPALATO (Slav. Split), a city of Dalmatia, at the
head of one of the thirteen departments (area 730 square
miles; population in 1880 31,003), is situated on the
seaward side of a peninsula lying between the Gulf of
Braza and the Gulf of Salona. Though not the capital, it
is the most important city in the principality, is the see of
a bishop, has a valuable museum of antiquities, and carries
on an extensive trade in wine and oil. Since 1879 it has
been the terminus of a railway running northwards to
Sebenico and Siveric. Built on the low ground at tho
head of a beautiful bay, and thrown into relief by a back-
ground of picturesque hills rising close behind, Spalato
has a striking sea-front, in which the leading feature i?
still the ruined facjade of the great palace of Diocletian,
erected in 303 a.d., to which the city owes its origin. In
ground plan this is almost a square, with a quadrangular
tower at each of the four corners. " Its faces correspond
nearly with the four points of the compass. The south
front (towards the harbour) measures 521 feet, or, with
the towers, 598 feet 8 inches, and the eastern and western
sides are each 705 feet 8 inches" (Wilkinson). Tho
area included is 348,175 square feet, or, comprising tho
towers, 352,614 square feet, a little more than eight ac<%s,
or rather less than the area of the Escorial. There were
four principal gates, with four streets meeting in the middle
of the quadrangle, after the style of a Roman camp. The
eastern gate (Porta Aenea) is destroyed ; but, though tho
side towers are gone, the main entrance of the building,
the beautiful Porta Aurea, in the west front, is still in
fairly good preservation. The streets were lined witli
massive arcades. The vestibule now forms the Piazza del
Duomo or public square ; to the north-east of this lies tho
mausoleum (not, as the older antiquaries had it, the temple
of Jupiter), which has long been the smallest and darkest
of cathedrals; and to the south-east is the temple of
jEsculapius, which served originally as a kind of court
chapel and has long been transformed into a baptistery.
Architecturally the most important of all the many striking
features of the palace is the arrangement in the vestibule
by which the supporting arches spring directly from the
capitals of the large granite Corinthian columns. This,
as far as the known remains of ancient art are concerned,
is the first instance of such a method ; and thus, in Mr
Freeman's words, " all Gothic and Romanesque architecture
was in embryo in the brain of Jovius or his architect."
The name Spalato, or Spalatro (a very old spelling), which used
to be explained as 8 corruption of Salonae Palatinm, is pretty cer-
tainly of different origin — the oldest form extant being Aspalathmii
(Constantme Porphyrogenitus) and early variants Spalatnon, Spa-
lathron, Spalatrum [Geogr. Rav.). Dr Evans suggests a connexion
with Aspalathus (the name of a prickly shrub) or perhaps with
Asphaltus. Not long after Diocletian's death tlie buildings seem to
have been turned into an imperial cloth factory, and as most of
the workers were women we find it called a gynsecium (KotUia).
About 4 miles from the palace lay the ancient city of Salona (SoAura
or SaXwcai), which consisted of two parts, the earlier Roman city
to the west and a later portion incorporated previous to the timo
of the Antonines. There are still remains at Salona of ancient city
walls, an amphitheatre, &c., and a long line of walls extending
" from the western side of the city for a mile and more nearly along
the present road to Trau (Tragnrium)." The purpose of this line
of walls is not evident, and the date of its construction has been
the subject of much discussion. Mr Freeman is disposed to consider
them Roman workmanship.
Salona in its best days was one of the chief ports of the Adriatic,
on one of the most central sites in tho Roman world. Made a
Roman colony after its second capture by tho Romans (d.c. 78), it
appears as Colonia Martia Julia and Colouia Claudia Augusta Pia
Veteranorum, and bears at different periods the titles of resnublica,
conventus, metropolis, pnefcctura, and pra;torium. In Cnristiau
times it became a bishoiva see ; and St Doinio or Domuius, its first
bishop, still gives his name to the cathedral of Sijalato. Tho city
SPA -SPA
367
was taken by OUoacer in 4S1 and by ToliUi iji tlie 6tli century.
Recovered by Justinian in 535, it was in 544 and 652 the starting-
jioiut of Bclisaiius ami Narses for their Italian expeditions. In the
7th century Salona was completely destroyed by the Avars ; but the
empty palace of Diocletian afforded an asylum for its inhabitants.
The limits of tlio building; proved sufTiciont for the new city up to
the time that it passed under Hungarian and Venetian protection.
Hungarian additions may still bo seen above the Porta Aurea ; and
the large octagonal tower bears tho name of Torre d'Harvoye from
the Bosnian general who- was created duke of Spalato by Ladislaus.
The Venetians enclosed the town with regular curtains and bastions
in 1645-1670. About 1807-1809 the castle was dismantled and
parts of the walls were thrown down.
See Robert Mam, Kuin^ of the Palace of DioeJetian, 1764; Cflssasand Lftvall^e,
Voyage Fitloj-csque ct Ilisloriijue de fhtrie, 1802; Wilkinson, Dalmatia and
iSontenegro, 1848 ; Freeman, Historical £ssatn, -"Jd series, 1879, and Sul^ect and
jVeighbour lands of Venice. 1881. Both tJie first-mentioned works contain
magnificent views and restorations of the architecture of the palace.
SPALDING, a market-town of Lincolnshire, England,
in the Parts of Holland, is situated on the river Welland,
and on the Great Northern and Great Eastern Railways,
93 miles from London. The town, standing in the heart
of the Fcna, is the centre of a rich agricultural district.
Amongst the public buildings are five churches, the John-
son hospital (1881)," the corn exchange (1856-57), the
buildings of the mechanics' institute and of the Christian
association and literary institute, and the district union-
house. The parish church of St Mary and St Nicholas was
built in 1284 and restored in 1865-66. The adjoining
lady'chapel (St Mary and St Thomas a Becket) was built
in 1315 ; in 1588 it was appropriated for the grammar
school endowed in 1568 by John Blanke and again in
1588 by John Gamlyn.' A new grammar school was
erected in 1881. Spalding has had a prison for upwards
of 600 years; the present building, erected in 1824:-25,
was closed in 1884. The Welland is crossed at Spalding
by two stone bridges. The existing high bridge, con-
structed' in 1838, took the place of a wooden erection
dating from the end of the 17th century ; this last was
built on the site of an older Roman bridge of two arches,
the foundations of the centre pier of which were disclosed
when tho wooden bridge was constructed. The popula-
tion of the town in 1871 was 9111, and in 1881 9260.
In 1051 Thorold of Bockenbale (now Bucknall, near Homcastle)
gave his castle of Spalding and the chapel attached to it as a cell or
monastery for the Benedictines of Crowlaud. Out of this grew the
priory, which, however, was dissolved in 1535 ; tho last fragments
of its ruins were removed in 1832. About two miles north-east of
Spalding stands the ruined chapel of Wykehara, dedicated to .St
Nicholas and built in 1311 by Prior Clement Hatfield. The build-
ing is of tho Decorated period, and has been roofless since 1782 ; its
interior dimensions are 43 feet long by 22 feet wide ; the walls are
44i feet high. Each side contains three three-light windows with
moulded flowing tracery, and each end one four-light window of
similar character. The only one which retains its original muUions
and tracery is the centre window on the south side. After the Con-
quest tho estates and priory of Spalding were given by William I.
to Ivo Tailbois, who found such a stout antagonist in Hercward tho
Wake, lord of Brunno or Bourn.
SPALDING, William (1809-1859), logician and
literary historian, was born in Aberdeen in 1809. After
a thorough education at the grammar school and at
Marischal College there, he came to Edinburgh in 1830,
where he was called to tho bar in 1833. In that year he
published a Letter on Shakespeare's Autjiorsltip of the Two
Noble Kinsmen, which, by its critical acumen and the
knowledge of the old dramatists which it displayed,
attracted the notice of Jeffrey and procured the author
an invitation to become a contributor to the Edinburgh
Remew. Before settling down to tho business of the bar
ke undertook a prolonged Continental tour. He was
absent fifteen months, the greater part of the time being
spent in Italy, and in 1811 the fruits of his stay appeared
in three volumes entitled Italy and the Ilulian Islands
from the Earliest Ages to the Present Time. This learned and
comprehensive work went through five editions in a few
years. His attempts to train a legal jjractice not iiroving
successful, he became a candidate in 1 838 for the chair
of rhetoric in Edinburgh university, which he held till
1845, when he was appointed profes-sor of logic in thf
university of St Andrews. He held the latter post till hi,
death on the 16th November 1859.
Uesides the works already mentioned, and various articles
contributed to tho Edinburgh Review and BJaekvood'a Jfdrjnziiie
he was the author of a concise History of English Lilcraturc, whicl
has many merits and has been much used as a text book. He alsi
wrote the articles " Lo^ic " and " Rhetoric " (as well as a uumbe
of literary biographies) lor the eighth edition of the Enajdopscdit
Britannica. The former article, written mainlj' on Hamiltoniai
lines, constitutes a systematic treatise on Formal Logic, and i-
honourably distinguished by its clear srientilic exposition. Bj
these two articles and his Bistory of English Literature Spalding
is chiefly remembered.
SPALLANZANI, Lazaeo (1729-1799), is one of tht
most important and certainly also one of the most pictur
esque figures in the history of science during the 18th ceii'
turjt Born at Scandiano in !Modena in 1729, ho was at
first educated by his father, who was an advocate. At
the age of fifteen he was sent to the Jesuit college at
Reggio di Modena, and was pressed to enter that body.
He went, however, to the university of Bologna, where
his famous kinswoman Laura Bassi, was professor, and it
is to her influence that his scientific impulse has been
usually attributed. With her he studied natural philo-
sophy and mathematics, and gave also great attention to
languages, both ancient and modern, but soon abandoned
the study of law, and afterwards took orders. His
reputation soon widened, and in 1754 he became professor
of logic, metaphysics, and Greek in the university of
Reggio, and in 1760 was translated to Modena, where he
continued to teach with great assiduity and success, but
devoted his whole leisure to natural science. Ho declined
many offers from other Italian universities and from St
Petersburg until 1768, when he accepted the invitation of
Maria Theresa to the chair of natural history in the uni-
versity of Pavia, which was then being reorganized. He
also became director of the museum, which he greatly
enriched by the collections of his many journeys along the
shores of the Mediterranean. In 17S5 ho was invited to
succeed Vallisneri at Padua, but to retain his services Lis
sovereign doubled his salary and allowed him leave of
absence for a visit to Turkey, where he remained nearly a
year, and made many observations, among which may be
noted those of a copper mine in Chaiki and of an iron mine
at Principi. His return home was almost a triumphal pro-
gress : at Vienna he was cordially received by Joseph II.,
and on reaching Pavia he was met with acclamations outside
the city gates by the students of the university. During
tho following year his students exceeded five hundred. His
integrity in the management of tho museum was called in
question, but a judicial investigation speedily cleared his
honour, to the satisfaction even of his accusers. In 1788
ho visited Vesuvius and the volcanoes of tho Lipari Islands
and Sicily, and embodied the results of his researches in a
largo work published four years later. He died from an
apoplectic seizure, in 1799, at the ago of seventy.
His indefatigable exertions as a traveller, his skill and good for-
tune as a collector, his brilliance as n teacher and expositor, and his
keenness as a controversialist no doubt aid largely in accounting
for Spallanzani's exceptional fame among his contemjiorarics, j'et
greater qualities were by no means Jacking. His life was one o(
incessant eager questioning of nature on all sides, and his many
and varied works all bear the stanjp of a fresh and original genius,
capable of stating and solving problems in all departments o(
science,— at one time finding the true explanation of "dnck.Hand
drakes " (formerly attributed to tho elasticity of water) and at
another helping to lay tho foundations of our modern vulcnnolngy
and meteorology. His main discoveries, however, were in tho lield
of physiology: he wrote valuable and siiK;,'eRlive papers on respira-
tion, on tho senses of bat.s, &c., while his highly imiwrUnt con-
troversy with Ncedham and HulToii, in which ho experimentally
disprovnl the orcurreiic" ofspDnlariiousj^enemtion, hat been alreadjr
368
S P A — S P A
leJerred to under AsiooEXTisis. In this regard also he was led to
pay consideraWe attention to the infusoriat animalcules. His great
■«vork, however, is tbe Disscrlationi de Fisica AnimaJe e Vegetale
(3 Tols., 1780). Here he first interpreted the process of digestion,
which he proved to be no mere mechanical process of trituration,
iut one of actual solution, taking place primarily in the stomach,
by the action of the gastric juice. Verifying this by the important
■experiment of artificial digestion outside the stomach in sealed tubes,
he n-as attacked by John Hunter, but emerged victorious from the
encounter. Of lio less importance are his researches on reproduc-
tion, in which he experimentally settled the relative functions of
the ovum and the spermatozoon. See Reproditction.
SPANDAIT, a strongly-fortified town in the province of
IBrandenburg, Prussia, is situated at the confluence of the
Havel and Spree, 8" miles to the north-west of Berlin. • It
has recently been converted into a fortress of the first
<;lass, and is now the key of the defences of the capital.
The Julius tower in the citadel, which is surrounded by
water, contains the imperial war treasure (Reichskriegs-
schatz),— a sum of £6,000,000 in gold, kept in readiness
for any warlike emergency. Besides numerous barracks,
Spandau contains various military establishments appro-
priate to an important garrison town ; and its chief
industries are connected with the preparation of munitions
of war. The Government factories for the manufacture
of small arms, artillery, gunpowder, &c., cover upwards
of 200 acres, and employ about 4000 workmen. The
other industries are not very important ; they comprise
miscellaneous manufactures, fishing, boat-building, and
some shipping on the Havel. The population in 1885,
including the garrison of nearly 4000 men, was 31,463. '
Spandau is one of the oldest places in the Altmark, and received
town-rights in 1232. It afterwards became a favourite residence
of the Hohenzollern electors of Brandenburg, and was fortified in
1577-83. In 1635 it surrendered to the Swedes, and in 1806 to
the French. A short investment in 1813 restored it to Prussia.
The population in 1816 was 6250.
SPANGENBERQ, August Gottlieb (1704-1792),
Count Zinzendorf's successor, and bishop of the Moravian
Brethren, was born July 14, 1704, at Klettenberg, on the
south of the Harz Mountains, where his father was court-
preacher, and ecclesiastical inspector of the grafschaft of
Hohenstein. Left an orphan at 'the early age of ten, he
■was sent to the excellent high school at Hefeld, and
passed thence (1722), in poorest circumstances, to Jena to
study law. Prof. Buddeus received the poor youth into
tis family, and a " stipendium " was procured for him.
Tdeology rather than law vvas his natural destination, and
it needed only the impulse of the remark of Buddeus that
the inevitable prospect before a true theologian is ignominy
and trial to convert the student of law, who was pro-
foundly exercised with religious conflicts, into a student
of theology. Somewhat after the manner of the Wesleys
at Oxford a little later, he studied the mystics, read the
Bible, observed rigid devotional exercises, sought to
quicken his sense of sin, avoided taking the Lord's
Supper with unbelievers in the Lutheran Church, and
took an active part in a religious union of students and in
schools for poor children just outside Jena. He took his
degree in 1726, and began to give free lectures on theo-
logy. In 1727 he made the acquaintance ,of the Moravian
colony at Hermhut and, its head. Count Zinzendorf. A
" collegium pastorale practicum " for the care of the sick
and poor was in consequence founded by him at Jena,
■which the authorities at once broke up as a "Zinzen-
dorfian institution." But Spangenberg's relations with
the Moravians were confirmed by several visits to the
oolcny, and the accident of an unfavourable appeal to the
iot alone prevented his appointment as chief elder of the
community, March 1733. Meanwhile his free lectures in
Jena met with much acceptance, and led to an invitation
from Gotthelf Francke to the post of assistant professor
■of theology and euperinteadent of the educational depart-
ment of his orphanage at Halle. He accepted the invitation,^
and entered on his duties in September 1732. But it
soon appeared that the diSerences between the Pietists of
Halle and himself were far too serious to admit of any
harmonious co-operation. He found their religious life
too formal, legal, external, and worldly ; and they could
not sanction his comparative indifierence to doctrinal
correctness and his incurable tendency to separatism in
church life. Spangenberg's participation in private obser-
vances of the Lord's Supper brought matters to a crisis.
His intimate connexion with Count Zinzendorf was made
a further charge against him. His preaching was pro-
nounced "singular," and an "affected humility towards
common people " obnoxious. He was offered by the
senate of the theological faculty of Halle the alternative
of doing penance before God, submitting to his superiors,
and separating himself from Zinzendorf, or leaving the
matter to the decision of the king, unless he preferred to
" leave Halle quietly." The case came before the king,
and on April 8, 1733, Spangenberg was conducted by the
military outside the gates of Halle. At first h6 bent his
steps to Jena, but Zinzendorf at once sought to secure
him as a feUow-labourer, though, with that "Jesuitry" of
which Wesley subsequently complained, the count wished
to obt5,in from him a declaration which would remove
from the Pietists of Halle all blame with regard to the
disruption. Spangenberg found amongst the Moravians
his life-work He could amongst them carry out his
fundamental principle that the churches are bat spheres
in all of which Christians are to be found, and that the
one church of Christ is only where believers live in
Christian fellowship. He joined the Moravians at a
moment when the stability of the society was threatened,
and a wise organi;;er, enterprising missionary, and theo-
logical teacher was imperatively required. He became
its theologian, its apologist, its statesman and corrector,
through sixty long years of incessant labour, xor the
first thirty years (1733-62) his work vras mainly devoted
to the superintendence and organization of the extensive
missionary enterprises of the body in Germany, England,
Denmark, Holland, Surinam, Georgia, and elsewhere.
His missionary work tended to still further modify and
broaden his theological opinions, unsatisfactory as the
Pietists of Halle had found them in 1733. It was on
an island off Savannah that Spangenberg startled John
Wesley with his questions and profoundly influenced his
entire future career. One special endeavour of Spangen-
berg in Pennsylvania was to bring over the scattered
Schwenkfeldians to his faith. In 1741-42 he was in
England collecting for his mission and obtaining the sanc-
tion .of the archbishop of Canterbury. During the second
half of this missionary period of his life he superintended
as bishop the churches of Pennsylvania, defended the
Moravian colonies against the Indians at the time of war
between France and England, became the apologist of his
body against the attacks of the Lutherans and the Pietists,
and did much to moderate the mystical extravagances of
Zinzendorf, with which his simple, practical, and healthy
nature was out of sympathy. The second thirty years of I
his work (1762-92) were devoted to the consolidation
of the German Moravian Church, Zinzendorf's deathi
(1760) had left room and need for his labours at home. \
At Hermhut there were conflicting tendencies, doctrinal
and practical extravagances, and the organization of the
brethren was very defective. Spangenberg proved him-
self to be the man required. In 1777 he fras commis-
sioned to draw up an ideajtdei fratrum, or compendium
of the Christian faith of the United Brethren, which was
published two years afterwards And became the accepted
declaration.of.tha Moiaviaa.lieUef. As comx>arecLwit)J
S P A — S P A
369
Zinzendorf's own writings, this book exhibits the fiuer
balance and greater moderation of Spangenberg's nature,
while those offensive descriptions of the relation of the
sinner to Christ in which the Moravians at first indulged
are almost absent from it. In his last years Spangenberg
devoted special attention to the education of the young, in
which the Moravians have since been so successful. He
died at Berthelsdorf, September 18, 1792. In addition
to the Idea Fidei Fratrum, Spangenberg wrote, besides
other apologetic books, a Declaration iiber die zeither ge.gen
uns ausyeganjenen Beschuhligungen (Leipsic, 1751), an
Apologetische Scldussschrift (1752), Leben des Graf en Zin-
lendorf (1772-75) ; and his hymns are well known beyond
the Moravian circle.
Sec '^\^^i, Lehcn, Spangcixbcrgs, Barby, 1794; K. F. Ledderhose,
Iin^ Lchen Spangcnbcrgs, Heidelberg, 1846 ; Fiiek, Bcilragr, zur
Lcbcnsgcschichle A. G. Spangenberg's, Halle, 1884; Herzog-Plitt's
Bealencyklopddie, s.v. " Spaii"enberg."
SPARROW (A.S. Speanoa; Icel. Sporr; Old High
Germ. Sparo), a word perhaps (like the equivalent Latin
J'lisser) originally meaning almost any small bird, but
gradually restricted in signification and nowadays in
common English applied to only four kinds, which are
further differentiated as Hedge-Sparrow, House-Sparrow,
Tree-Sparrow, and Reed-Sparrow — the last bei ng a Bunting
(vol. iv. p. 525)— though when used without a prefi.x the
second of these is usually intended.
1. The Hedge-Sparrow, called " Dunnock " in many parts of
Britain, the Accentor inoduJaris of ornithologists, is the little
browu-backed bird with an irou-grey head and neck that is to he
seen in nearly every garden throughout the country, unobtrusively
and yet tamely seeking its food, wliich consists almost wholly of
insects, as it progresses over the ground in short jumps, each move-
ment being accompanied by a slight jerk or shuffle of the wings.
Though on the Continent it regularly migrates, it is one of the few
soft-billed birds that reside throughout the year with us, and is
one of the earliest breeders, — its well-known greenish-blue eggs,
laid in a warmly-built nest, being recognized by hundreds as
among the surest signs of returning spring ; but a second or even
a third brood is produced later. The cock has a sweet but rather
feeble song ; and the species has long been accounted, though not
with accuracy, to be the most common dupe of the Cuckow.
Several other species are assigned to the genua Accentor ; but all,
except the Japanese A. rubidxis, which is the counterpart of the
British Hedge-Sparrow, inhabit more or less rocky situation.s, and
one, A. collaris or atpinus, is a denizen of the higher mountain-
ranges of Europe, though it has several times strayed to England.
The taxonomic position of the genus is regarded by some system-
atists as doubtful ; but to the present writer there seems no good
reason for removing it from the group which contains the Thrushes
and Warblers ( Turdidee and Si/lviidse), to which it was long referred.
2. The House-Sparrow, the Fringilla donustica of Linnoeus and
Passer domesticvs of modern authors, is far too well known to need
any description of its appearance or habits, being found, whether
in country or town, more attached to human dwellings than any
other wild bird ; nay, more than that, one may safely assert that
it is not knoxvn to thrive anywhere far away from the habitations
or works of men, extending its range in such countries as Northern
Scandinavia and many parts of the Russian empire as new settle-
ments are formed and land brought under cultivation. Thus
questions arise as to whether it should not bo considered a parasite
throughout the greater portion of the area it now occupies, and as
to what may have been its native country. Moreover, of late years
it has been inconsiderately introduced to several of the large towns
of North America and to many of the British coloifies, in nearly
all of which, as had been foreseen by ornithologists, it has multi-
plied to excess and has become an intolerable nuisance, being
nnrestraincd by the natural checks which partly restrict its
increase in Europe and Asia. Whether indeed in the older seats
of civilization the House-Sparrow is not decidedly injurious to the
agriculturist and horticulturist has long been a matter of dis-
cussion, and no definite result that a fair judge can accept has yet
been reochcd. It is freely admitted that the damage done to
growing crops is often enormous, but as yet the service freriuently
rendered by the destruction of insect-pests cannot bo calculated.
Both friouds and foes of the House-Sparrow write as violent parti-
gans,' and the truth will not be known until a series of experiments,
* The most reciut attacks upon it are contained in tiie various is-sues
of the Report of Observations of Injurious Insects find Common Crop
Pests, annuidly made by Miss Eleanor Onnerod. and in a little
TOloice bcming the tide of Tlu House Sparrow, published in 1835.
22-15
conducteil by scientifically-trained investigators, has been in-
stituted, which, to the shame of numerous agricultural and horli-
cnltural societies, has not yet been done. It is quite likely that
the result will bi> unfavourable to the House-Sparrow, from what
has been said above as to its being so dependent on man for its
subsistence ; but. while the evil it does is so apparent, — for instance,
the damage to lijiening grain-crops,— the extent of the counter-
balancing benefit is quite uncertain, and from the nature of the
case is often overlooked. In the South of Europe the HoQse-
Sparrow is in some measure replaced by two allied species, P.
hispaniolcnsis and P. italiie, whose habits are essentially identical
with its own ; and it is doubtful whether the Sparrow of ludia, P.
indices, is specifically distinct ; but Africa has several members of
the genus which are decidedly so.
3. The Tree-Sparkow, the Fringilla montana of Linnieus and
Passer montanus of modern writers, in appearance much resembling
the House-Sparrow, but easily distinguishable by its reddish -brown
crown, the black patch on the sides of its neck, and its doubly-
barred wings,- is a much more local species, in England generally
frequenting the rows of pollard-willows that line so many rivei-»
and canals, in the holes of which it breeds ; but in some Eastern
countries, and especially in China, it frequents liouses, even in
towns, and so fills the place of the House-Sparrow. Its geogra-
phical distribution is extensive, and marked by some curioui
characters, among which may be mentioned that, being a great
wanderer, it has effected settlements even in such remote islands
as the Fieroes and some of the Outer Hebrides.
That the genus Passer properly belongs to the Fringill-
idx is admitted by most ornithologists, yet there have been
some who would refer it to the Weaver-birds, F/oceidse, if
they are to be accounted as forming a distinct Family, — a
matter which is not at all clear. The American birds called
" Sparrows" have little in common with the members ol
the genus Passer, and probably belong rather to the family
Eniberizidx than to the Frhujillidx. (a. n.)
SPARROWHAWK. See Hawk.
SPARTA, after Athens, was the most powerful and
important of the Greek states. Her fame rested mainly on
her soldier.s, her military discipline, her somewhat narrow
patriotism, and her intense political conservatism ; in
general intellectual culture, in art and in everything con-
nected with it, she was immeasurably inferior to Athens,
and even to some of the other Greek states, though there
is evidence to show that a genius and a taste for sculpture
and music wore by no means wanting to her citizens. Her
eminent men were almost all eminent as soldiers, and few
of them had any pretensions to rank as able and en-
lightened statesmen. No such man as Themistocles or
Pericles ever appeared in Sparta ; she produced no great
thinkers or philosophers ; the typical Spartan, in short, was
a brave and well-trained soldier, with a decided simplicity
of character and strong religious scruples, amounting to
what we must call superstition, which from time to time
were a hindrance to prompt action and discredited the
state in the public opinion of Greece.
Sparta was not so much a city as a cluster of open
villages in a plain in the heart of Laconia (see vol. xi.
plate I.), in the middle valley of the Eurotas, on the west
bank of the river, between the ranges of Taygetus and
Parnon, and built in part on the spurs of these mountains.
Its situation was very picturesque: "hollow, lovely
Laceda;mon"5 is Homer's description. Taygetus on the
west rises to its greatest height of nearly 8000 feet just
above the city, with primeval forests on its lower slopes,
in which Spartans hunted the stag and the wild boar.
Sparta seems to have been about six miles in circuit; it
was not, like most Greek cities, near the coast, — Gythium,
and consisting chielly of three essays by Mr J. H. Gurnoy, jun.,
Lieut. -Col. C. Russell, and Prof. Coues, Ijut the last has only refer-
ence to the behaviour of tlie bird in the United States of Aniericn,
where, from the reason above assigned, its presence was expected by
almost all well-informed persons to bo detrimental.
° A more important dilfercnco is that the two scxca havo almost ths
same plumage, while in the House-Sparrow they arii unlike in Vhi«
respect.
' Laceaoemon was simply another name for Spartx, though somo>
times it seems to stand for the surrounding district.
370
SPARTA
the chief port of Laconia, being 30 miles distant ; nor was
it built with anything like the compactness of an Athens
or a Corinth. The houses for the most part stood in
spacious gardens, an open-air life being altogether to the
Spartan taste, and well suited to the pleasant_ genial
climate of the valley. The olive still grows to great per-
fection in the neighbourhood, and the silk is said to be of
particularly fine quality. The mountain ranges round the
city gave it a very strong defensive position, and for a
long period Sparta was without walls or fortifications,
trusting exclusively to the prowess of her citizens till she
was seriously menaced by the victorious Macedonians in
the 4th century B.C. The city was never a very splendid
one ; the houses were plain and simple and there seem to
have been no public buildings of striking magnificence.
There wasthe so-called Brazen House of Athene on a hill
within a large enclosure, with plates of bronze which gave
it its name, on which, among other mythological scenes,
were represented the labours of Hercules and the exploits
of the great twin brethren, Castor and Pollux, who were
specially honoured at Sparta. There was the theatre, still
to be traced in huge quadrangular blocks of stone, and
there were porticos and colonnades, and the chapels and
tombs of Spartan heroes, such as Lycurgus, Leonidas,
iirasidas. Sparta delighted to honour her worthy citizens,
and paid them divine honours after death. The site of
the city has not been thoroughly investigated, but it is a
question whether much remains worth bringing to light.
What has hitherto been discovered is poor and disap-
pointing. Sparta's greatness as a city, as Thucydides
(i. 10) clearly implies, fell very far short of hesr political
importance as a state.^
Sparta's history, passing over her share in the prehistoric
Trojan War under her king Menelaus, the brother of
Agamemnon, begins with the legislation of Lycurgus in
the 9th century B.C. It was this, as has been explained
in the article Lycuegus, which made Sparta what she
was, a state whose aim it was rather to hold her own
within the Peloponnesus than to launch out into^doubt-
ful enterprises far away from home. Sparta was not
naturally aggressive or ambitious ; she was not easily
roused to action even in great emergencies. She was safe
amid her mountains from the perils to which other Greek
cities were exposed. It would seem that in early days
Argos had been decidedly the first power in the Pelopon-
nesus, Sparta being second to her by a long interval. The
relative position of the two states was reversed soon after
the time of Lycurgus. The spirit and vigour which his
discipline infused no doubt enabled Sparta, after two
severe wars in the 8th and 7th centuries, to accomplish at
last the complete conquest of Messene, the south-western
portion of the Peloponnesus, and so to become the undis-
puted mistress of at least two-fifths of the whole penin-
sula. By the year 600 B.C. Sparta was quite in the first
rank of Greek states, and it was generally felt that she
had a right to take the lead in Greek politics. In the
6th century she put down the tyrants, the heads of the
democratic and popular party, in several Greek cities, and
drove, for a time at least, the reforming and innovating
Clisthenes from Athens. Sparta was the steady foe of
democracy and popular government. The Spartans were
themselves a small landowning aristocracy, in the midst
of a comparatively numerous population, (insisting of
so-called Periceci (dwellers round about), tie aboriginal
inhabitants, in fact, of Laconia, and of Hehts or serfs,
taken to a great extent from the conquered Messenians.
' For topographical details we must refer the reader to the elabo-
rate works of the German scholar Curtius on the Pekponnesus and
works based on them. Mure's Greece and Leake's Merea should be
conaalted.
The government was highly centralized ; it was wholly in
the hands of the Spartans, the Periceci having no share in
it, though many of them may have themselves been land-
owners, or at any rate have held land under Spartan land-
lords, and been well-to-do and p'-osi)erous. The Helots
were farm labourers bound to tne soil, slaves in every
sense of the word, anything like self-respect being
studiously made impossible for them. Spartans could put
down a popular rising or a slave insurrection with cold-
blooded cruelty, and in a panic following on an earthquake
of unusual violence in 404 there was a deliberately-
planned massacre of a multitude of Helots for the safety
of Sparta, carried out and executed by Spartans in person.
A calculating selfishness was a marked trait in Spartan
character. Sparta seems always to have put her own
interests before those of Greece, though she claimed to
be the leading and representative Greek state. She was
cautious and even timid, though the courage of her indi-
vidual citizens in war was unsurpassed. Every Spartan
was a hero on the battlefield, and a Spartan army was
long assumed to be invincible. Sparta was not much of
a colonizing state, but she could point to the famous city
of Tarentum in southern Italy as her offspring, and to
Lyctus {II., ii. 647; xvii. 611) in Crete, whence came
warriors to the Trojan War. In 491, when Greece waa
threatened with invasion by Persia, we find Athens
appealing to Sparta and urging a complaint against the
iEginetans as traitors to Greece for having given earth
and water, the symbols of submission, to the emissaries of
the great king. In 480 a Spartan admiral commanded
the Greek fleet off Artemisium against Xerxes, and in the
follo%ving year a Spartan general, Pausanias, commanded
the united forces of Greece in the famous battle of Platsea.
All this implies a distinct recognition of Sparta as the
head of Greece. The Persian War over, Athens under
Cimon and Pericles developed extraordinary energy and
took Sparta's place. Sparta indeed seems to have retired
upon her laurels, and it was not without reluctance and
much urgent pressure that she embarked in the Pelopon-
nesian War, which, after twenty-eight years of hard
fighting, ended in the overthrow of the Athenian empire
and the capture of Athens by Lysander in 405. Sparta
contributed greatly to the final result by despatching an
able officer, Gylippus, to the relief of Syracuse in 414,
when the city was on the point of surrendering to the
Athenian armament. It was the decisive success of
Gylippus in Sicily which turned the scale agairfst Athens.
The crushing blow of .^gospotami in 405, which
annihilated her fleet and left her defenceless, and the
subsequent surrender of the city transferred the supremacy
of Greece once more to Sparta, but not for much more
than thirty years. Sparta's policy was ungenerous and
short-sighted ; it consisted in establishing little oligarchical
factions under Spartan control in the Greek cities, and
soon degenerated into a tyranny which became utterly
odious. All Sparta's worst qualities came out during this
period: "autonomy," which had been her watchword
throughout the war against Athens, became a dead letter
under her rule ; and the freedom of city life, so dear to a
Greek, was crushed out under her officials and commis-
sioners, whom she thrust on a rmmbcr of Greek cities.
Still more did she disgust all the better men of Greece by
concluding, after a series of intrigues for her own selfish
ends, a peace with Persia in 387, known as the peace of
Antalcidas, the Spartan through whom it was negotiated.-
It was a dishonourable peace for Greece, as its effect was
to facilitate Persian intervention in Greek affairs and make
the king of Persia the arbiter of Greek disputes and
differences. Meanwhile Athens w-as recovering herself;
the tables were soon turned on Sparta, and her maritime^
S P A — !S F A
371
power collapsed before the united action of Athens and
Persia. In the Peloponnesus Sparta was still suprein«,
but Thebes, she felt, might become a dangerous rival and
must be humbled. She insisted that the townships of
Boeotia must be "autonomous " and independent of Thebes,
and so contrived to pick a quarrel with that state, which
to Sparta's cost had at that time the famous Epaminondas,
the greatest, perhaps, of Greek generals, among her lead-
ing citizens. In 371 came Sparta's crushing defeat at
Leuctra, a blow from which she never really recovered,
though her courage and military discipline long survived it.
But her prestige was gone. EjMiminondas carried the war
into the heart of Laconia and penetrated to Sparta itself.
His victory at Mantinea in 362 gave independence to Mes-
eene, and Sparta was now politically ignored by her old allies.
From this time Sparta almost drops out of Greek his-
tory. She took no part in the struggle against Macedon ;
no Spartan soldier stood by the side of the Athenians and
Tliebans at Chsronea. She seems to have sunk into polit-
ical apathy; very possibly she may have had to concentrate
all her ■ remaining strength and energy in keeping down
her Helots and the native population of Laconia. When
Alexander was winning his victories in Asia, she intrigued
feebly against Macedon, and she' would take no part in the
congress of the Greek states at Corinth whicn declared
Ale2cander " Leader of the Greeks."
She appears once again, but as not much more than the
ghost of her former self, in the 3d century b.c., attempting
vainly in 281 to unite Greece against the Macedonian
Antigoiius, and repulsing Pyrrhus from her walls in 272,
Spartan -women working at the city's defence, and a few
Spartan warriors driving back the formidable soldier-
king. There was still the old spirit about her, but the
number of her citizens is said to have dwindled down to
700, and in her last days, with a wealthy few in the
midst of a poc* and needy people, Sparta had shrunk into
the narrowest and feeblest of oligarchies. In the latter
half of the 3d century B.C.,' in the days of the Achaean
league, a vigorous but unsuccessful attempt at internal
reforms and a restoration of the old discipline of Lycurgus
was made by two of her kings, Cleomenes and Agis. She
sank finally, we know not how, under the degrading
dominion of a sort of robber chief, Nabis, who fastened
his tyranny upon her by the support of emancipated
slaves and mercenaries of the lowest class. Her best citizens
were put to death or banished, and she was debased into
a refuge of pirates and robbers. Nabis and his vile gang
were put down by Philopojmen in the name of the Achaean
league, and Philopoemen completed his work by razing
the walls of Sparta and abolishing her old institutions.
Rome simply looked on, knowing well that she was
mistress of the situation, and let matters drag on till 146,
when she captured Corinth, and closed the page of Greek
history. (w. j. b.)
SP-:\IlTACUS, the leader of a formidable insurrection
of slaves against Rome in the 1st century B.C., was a
Thracian by birth, and perhaps a descendant of the kings
of Panticapaeum whose name ho bore. He served in the
Roman army, but seems to have deserted, for we are told
that he was taken prisoner and sold as a slave. Destined
for the arena, he, with a band of his fellow-gladiators,
broke out of a training-school at Capua and took refuge on
Mount Vesuvius (73 B.C.). Hero he maintained himself
as a captain of brigands, his lieutenants being Crixus and
CEnomaus, who like himself had been gladiators. Their
numbers soon swelled through the accession of runaway
skves and desperados from the neighbourhood. A hastily-
collected force of 3000 men under Claudius endeavoured
to besiege and starve out the rebels,- but the latter
clambered down the precipices and put the Romans to
flight. Swarms of hardy and desperate men now joined
the rebels, and when the prxtor Publius Varinius took the
field against them he found them entrenched like a regular
army on the plain. But they gave him the slip, and wheu
he advanced to storm their lines he found them desertedJ
From Campania the rebels marched into Lucania, a
country better suited for guerilla warfare. Here, in spijte
of the commands and entreaties of Spartacus, the slaves
committed excesses of lust and cruelty. A'arinius followed
him, but was defeated in several engagements and narrowly
escaped being taken prisoner. Spartacus, whose heart
was " where his rude cottage by the Danube lay," now
endeavoured to push northward. His object was to cross
the Alps and allow the slaves, who were mostly Thracians,
Germans, and Gauls, to disperse to their homes. But
intoxicated by success his 'wild followers refused to listen
to him ; their thoughts were all of plunder, and their track
was marked by the devastation of Italy.' Vola, Nuceria,
Thurii, iletapontum, were sacked with every circumstance
of savage ' cruelty. In this serious position of affairs the
senate despatched both consuls against the rebels (72 B.C.).
The German slaves under Crixus, who had separated
from the rest, were defeated and cut in pieces at Mount
Gargarus in Apulia by the praetor Arrius. But Spartacus.
overthrew both consuls, one after the other, and then
pressed towards the Alps. Cassius, governor of Cisalpine
Gaul, and the praitor Manlius filing themselves in his waj
at the head of 20,000 men, but were trampled under foot
Freedom was within sight, but with fatal infatuatioti the
slaves declined to abandon Italy. Spartacus led them
against Rome, but their hearts seem to have failed them,
for the capital was not attacked. Spartacus then occu-
pied the port of Thurii and tried to procure supplies of
iron and bronze, probably through the pirates. He also
endeavoured by means of the herds of horses captured in
southern Italy to form a body of cavalry. The conduct
of the war against Spartacus, together with eight legions,
was now committed to the prsetor Marcus Crassus. He
restored discipline by decimating the first troops that ran
before the enemy. lu the next battle Spartacus was
worsted and retreated towards the straits of Messina,
intending to cross into Sicily, where he would have been
welcomed by fresh hordes of slaves ; but the pirates who-
had agreed to transport his army proved faithless, Crassus
endeavoured to shut in the rebels by carrj'ing a ditch and
rampart right across the peninsula, a distance of 32 miles.
But on a wintry night Spartacus forced the lines, and once
more Italy lay at his feet. • Disunion, however, was at
work in the rebel camp. The Gauls and Germans had
again drawn of! from the main body. Crassus attacked
and destroyed them. Spartacus was now fain to secure a
retreat into the mountains of Petelia (near Strongoli in
Calabria), and succeeded in inflicting a reverse on the
pursuing army. But his men refused to retreat farther,
and in a pitched battle which followed soon afterwards
the rebel army was annihilated, Spartacus, who had
stabbed his horse before the battle began, fell sword in
hand. A body of the rebels which Lad escaped from th«
field was met and cut in pieces by Porapey, who, with his
usual knack of reaping where other men had sowed,
•■lairaed and received the credit of having put an end to
the war (71 n.c). • Six thousand slaves, who had not
found a, soldier's death, wera crucified along the high road
from Capua to Rome.
A history of the war nj^inst Spartacus lias to bo pioccd tojjtjthor
with much uncertainty from tho vague, scrappy, and somowhat dis-
crepant accounts of Plutarch (Crasiiis, 8-11), Appioii (Bell. Civ., i,
116-120), Florus (ii. 8[iii. 20]), Livy{Epil.,\>:v., xcvi., xcrii.), and
Sallust (fra{^fnt3 of the Ilistor(r)t). Sallust'a description seems
to have been full aud graphic, but unfortunately only • f«w fng-
meuts of it remain.
372
S P E — S P E
SPECIES. In logic the term "species" is applied to any
'group of individuals agreeing in some common attribute
or attributes, and included along with other groups in a
higher category, that of "genus," which comprehends the
ifewer and more general attributes in which all agree and
ignores those in which they differ. The application of
these terms in logic is thus purely relative ; any genus,
however large, may be but a species of a still larger genus.
But in arranging the innumerable objects of the natural
sciences the naturalist finds it necessary to restrict the
terms " species " and " genus " to the two lowest groupings
and to distinguish the higher aggregates by special terms,
as "family," "order," "class," &c. Early writers had but
a loose conception of many different " kinds " of animals
and plants, and spoke only of species and genus in their
purely logical relations, with varying breadth of content.
The term '"species" was limited to its natural history usage
in the end of the 17th century by John Ray. His con-
ception of " specific characters " rested, not only on close
and constant resemblance in outward form, but also on
the likeness of offspring to parent, a considerable measure
of variability being, however, recognized. Amongst sub-
sequent authors this conception of common descent or
parentage became more and more prominent, while the
progress of successful definition of species made the limits
of their variability seem always narrower and of less im-
portance ; and in this way the useful working conception
of the tolerable definiteness of species gradually crystallized
into the absolute dogma of their fixity. Then Linnseus
in his Fhilosophia Botanica gave the aphorism "species
tot sunt diversje, quot diversse formse ab initio sunt creatae"
(we reckon just as many species as there were forms created
at the beginning), which was generally accepted. Buffon's
obstinate rejection of the Linnsean classification was asso-
ciated with a belief in the modifiability of species, and
thowed some foresight of the doctrine elaborated soon
afterwards by Lamakck (q.v.). The general acceptance
of this dogma was, however, effected by the influence of
Cuvier ; its overthrow dates only from the publication of
Darwin's Origin of Species (1859), of which the argument
need not be here repeated. (See Evolution, Morpho-
logy.) The genealogical conception of species was thus
establisTied more firmly than ever, though cleared from its
former associations ; in Haeckel's phrase, the species is
the whole succession of organisms wnich exhibit the same
form in the same environment. The rash generalization,
that distinct species are to be recognized by their inca-
pacity for the production of fertile hybrids, was next over-
thrown, while closer study has cleared away the notion of
the equal definiteness of all specific forms. We now know
that, while many forms, like the pearly nautilus or the
Venus's fly-trap, do indeed exliibit the most perfect specific
definiteness, the demarcation of equally definite species in
other genera is rendered impossible by the existence of
the most complete series of transitional forms, and the
number of the species defined thus comes to depend
simply on the personal equation of the systematist, on his
predilection for "lumping" or "splitting," as the case
may be. Thus, for example, the number ■ of described
German species of hawkweed (ffieracium) has ranged
from 300 for one author, through 106 for another and 52
for a third, to less than 20 for a fourth. Similar instances
of variable genera are afforded by the willows and the
brambles, and many other common forms. This wide
variability, as might be expected, seems to be more pre-
valent among the lowest forms of life, and the classical
example of the relativity and variability of species has
been furnished by Haeckel's beautiful monograph on the
calcareous sponges {Monographie der Kalhschwamme, Jena,
,1872), in which he offers twelve distinct arrangements of
the same set of forms frcrm various points of view, among
which the two most nearly conventional propose respect-
ively 21 genera and 111 species and 39 genera and 289
species. All such variable forms are in fact species in
the making, which become definite in proportion as certain
varieties become especially adapted to their environment,
and become isolated by the dying out of the intermediate
forms. With these limitations, however, the working use-
fulness of the morphological conception of species remains
undiminished. ■ The want of any absolute standard of
specific difference is largely made up by practical experi'
ence and common sense ; and the evolutionary systematist*
are less in danger than were their predecessors of either
exaggerating or understating the importance of mer»
varieties. (See Variation.)
SPECIFIC GRAVITY. See Hydrometer, voL xii. p,
536 sq.
SPECTACLES are flat glasses, prisms, spherical or
cylindrical lenses, employed to detect and correct defect/
of the eyes. They are made usually of crown glass or rock
crystal (" pebbles "), the latter being somewhat lighter and
cooler to wear. They are mounted in the well-known rigid
spectacle frame when for continuous use, — eye-glasses being
preferable where they are worn intermittently, and hand-
glasses or lorgnettes where they are required to supplement
temporarily the spectacles usually worn, or where, as with
extreme shortness of sight, no glass could be employed
with comfort for any length of time.
Preserves. — Preserves are used to conceal deformities or to
protect the eyes in the many conditions where they cannot
tolerate bright light, such as ulceration and inflammation
of the cornea, certain diseases of the iris, ciliary body,
choroid, and retina. They are made of blTiish, "smoked,"
ox almost black coloured glass, and are of very various
shapes, according to the amount of obscuration necessary.
Prisms. — Prisms are of great value in cases of double
vision due to a slight tendency to squinting, caused by
weakness or over-action of the muscular apparatus of the
eyeball. Prisms deflect rays of light towards their bases.
Hence, if a prism is placed in front of the eye with its base
towards the nose, a ray of light falling upon it will be bent
inwards, and seem to come from a point further out from
the axis of vision. Conversely, if the base of the prism
is turned towards the temple, the ray of light will seem
to come from a point nearer the axis, and will induce the
eye to turn inwards, to converge towards its fellow. In
cases of myopia or short-sight owing to weakness of the
internal recti muscles, the eyes in looking at a near object,
instead of converging, tend to turn outwards, and so double
vision results. If a suitable prism is placed in front of the
eyes the double vision may be prevented. These prisms
may be combined with concave lenses, which correct the
myopia, or, since a concave lens may be considered as com-
posed of two prisms united at their apices, the same effect
may be obtained by making the distance between the cen-
tres of the concave lenses greater than that between the
centres of the pupils. Again, to obviate the necessity for
excessive convergence of the eyes so common in hyper-
metropia, the centre of the pupU should be placed outside
the centre of the corrective convex lenses ; these will then
act as prisms vrith their bases inwards. Where, on the
other hand, there is no tendency to squinting, care must
be taken in selecting spectacles that the distances between
the centres of the glasses and the centres of the pupUa are
quite equal, otherwise squinting, or at any rate great
fatigue, of the eyes may be induced.
Spherical Lenses. — Biconcave, biconvex, and concavo-
convex (meniscus) lenses are employed in ophthalmic prac-
tice in the treatment of errors of refraction. Until recently
these spherical lenses were numbered in terms of their focal
S P E — S P E
373
length, the inch being used as the unit. Owing principally
to differences in the length of the inch in various countries,
this method had great inconveniences, and is now giving
place to a universal system, in which the unit is the refrac-
tive power of a lens whose focal length is one metre. This
unit is called a "dioptric" (usually written " D "). A lens
of twice its strength has a refractive power of 2 D, and a
focal length of half a metre, and so on.
Concave lenses are used in the treatment of myopia or
short-sight. In this condition the eye is elongated from
before backwards, so that the retina lies behind the prihcipal
focus. All objects, therefore, which lie beyond a certain
point (the conjugate focus of the dioptric system of the eye,
the far point) are indistinctly seen; rays from them have not
the necessary divergence to be focused in the retina, but
may obtain it by the interposition of suitable concave
lenses. Concave lenses should never be used for work
\vithin the far point ; but they may be used in all cases to
improve distant vision, and in very short-sighted persons
to remove th(! far point so as to enable fine work such as
sewing or reading to be done at a convenient distance.
The weakest pair of concave lenses with which one can read
clearly test types at a distance of 18 feet is the measure
of the amount of myopia, and this fully correcting glass
may be worn in the slighter forms of short-sight. In higher
degrees, -where full correction might increase the myopia
by inducing a strain of the accommodation, somewhat
weaker glasses should be used for near work. In the highest
degrees the complete correction may be employed, bat
■lorgnettes are generally preferred; as they can be removed
when the eyes become fatigued. It must be remembered
that short-sight tends to increase during the early, especially
the school, years of life, and that hygienic treatment, good
light, good type, and avoidance of stooping are important
for its prevention.
Convex Lenses. — In hypennetropia the retina is in front
of the principal focus of the eye. Hence in its condition
of repose such an eye cannot distinctly see parallel rays
from a distance and, still less, divergent rays from a near
object. The defect may be overcome more or less com-
pletely by the use of the accommodation. In the slighter
forms no inconvenience may result ; but in higher degrees
prolonged work is apt to give rise to aching and watering
of the eyes, headache, inability to read or sew for any
length of time, and even to double vision and internal
strabismus. Such cases should be treated with convex
lenses, whic^ should be theoretically of such a strength
as to fully correct the hypermetropia. Practically it is
found that a certain amount of hypermetropia remains
latent, owing to spasm of the accommodation, which relaxes
only gradually. At first glasses may be given of such a
strength as to relieve the trotiblesome symptoms ; and
Jhe strength may be gradually increased till the total
hypermetropia is corrected. Young adults with slighter
forms of hypermetropia need glasses only for near work ;
elderly people should have one pair of weak glasses for
distant and another stronger pair for near vision. These
may be conveniently combined, as in Franklin glasses,
where the upper half of the spectacle frame contains a
weak lens, and the lower half, through which the eye looks
when reading, a stronger one.
Anisometropia. — It is difficult to lay down rules for the
treatment of cases where the refraction of the two eyes is
imequal. If only one eye is used, its anomaly should be
alone corrected ; where both are used and nearly of equal
strength, correction of each often gives satisfactory results.
Presbyopia. — Where distant vision remains unaltered,
hut, owing to gradual failure of the accommodative appa-
ratus of the eye, clear vision within 8 inches becomes im-
possible, convex lenses should be used for reading of such
a strength as to enable the eye to see clearly about b inches
distance. Presbyoj ia is arbitrarily said to commence at the
age of forty, because it is then that the need of spectacles
for reading is generally felt ; but it appears later in myopia
and earlier in hypernictropia. It advances with years, re-
quiring from time to time spectacles of increasing strength.'
Cylindrical Lerises. — In astigmatism, owing to differ-
ences in the refractive power of the various meridians of
the eye, great defect of sight, frequently accompanied by
severe headache, occurs. This condition may be cure<:
completely, or greatly improved, by the use of lenses whose
surfaces are segments of cylinders. They may be used
either alone or in combination with spherical lenses. The
correction of astigmatism is in many cases a matter of con-
siderable difficulty, but the results to vision almost ahvaj's
reward the trouble.
Convex spectacles were invenied towards the end of the 13th
century, perhaps by Roger Bacon. Concave glasses were intro-
duced soon afterwards. Airy, the astronomer, about 1827, corrected
his o\na astigmatism by means of a cylindrical lens. Periscopic
glasses were introduced by DrAV. H. '\\'ollaston. (A. BR.)
SPECTROSCOPY. The spectroscope is an instrument
which separates luminous vibrations of different wave-
lengths, as far as is necessary for the object in view. It
consists of three parts, — the collimator, the prism or grat-
ing, and the telescope. The collimator carries the slit
through which the light is admitted and a lens which con'
verts the diverging pencil of light into a parallel pencil.
The pencils carrying light of different wave-lengths ard
turned through different angles by the prism or grating,'
which is therefore the essential portion of the spectro-
scope. The telescope serves only to give the necessary,
magnifying power, and is dispensed with in small direct
vision spectroscopes. For a description of the different
kinds of prism used, see Optics ; and for an explanation
of the action of the grating, see Undulatory Theory.]
The most important adjustment in the spectroscope is that
of the collimator. Especially in instruments of large re-'
solving power it is essential for good definition that the
light should enter the prism or fall on the grating as a
parallel pencil. . For a method allowing an easy and
accurate adjustment for each kind of ray, see an article
in Fkil. Mag., vol. vii. p. 95 (1879).
Prisms are nearly always used in the position of mini-
mum deviation, but, if the collimator is properly adjusted,
this is by no means a necessary condition for good defini-
tion. Prisms as generally cut, with an isosceles base, give
the greatest resolving power in the position of minimum
deviation, but the loss in resolving power is not great
for a small displacement. The dispersion and magnifying
power of a prism can bo considerably altered by a change
of its position, and a knowledge of this fact is of great
value to an experienced observer. The use of a prism in
a position ditVerent from that of minimum deviation is,
however, a luxury which only those acquainted with the
laws of optics can' indulge in with safety.
Lord Rayleigh has given the theory of the spectro-
scope under Optics, and shown on what its resolving
power depends. There is no connexion between resolving
power and dispersion, any value of resolving power being
consistent with any value of dispcr.sion. To obtain largo
resolving power ■Nvlth small dispersion requires, however,
the use of inconveniently large telescopes and prisms or
gratings. It is easy, on the other hand, to obtain small
resolving power together with large dispersion.
The following definitions would be found of general use
if adopted. Resolving Power. — The unit resolving power
of a spectroscope in any part of the spectrum is that
resolving power which allows the separation of two lines
differing by the thousandth part of their own wave-length,
or wavc-iinmber, — the wave-number being the number
374
SPECTROSCOPY
of waves in unit length. Purity. — The unit purity of a
spectrum is that purity which allows the separation of
two lines differing by the thousandth part of their own
■wave-length or wave-number. We speak of the resolving
power of a spectroscope and of the purity of a spectrum.
The resolving power is a constant for each spectroscope,
and independent of the width of the slit. The purity of
a spectrum, on the other hand, depends on the width of
the slit, unless that width is small compared to a certain
quantity pre.sently to be mentioned. The resolving power
of a spectroscope is numerically equal to the greatest
purity of spectrum obtainable by it.
Ad«pting these definitions, we get from Lord Eayleigh's
equations for the resolving power i? of a grating
where n, is the total number of lines used on the grating
and m the order of the spectrum. For a spectroscope with
simple prisms we get
1000.2= -(<,-<i)|^,
where <2 ai<l h ^^^ *^® greatest and smallest lengths of
paths in the dispersive medium. If we put for the re-
fractive index of the medium ij. = A + BjX^ we may write
1000iJ = 2S(<2-<i)/X3.
It ■will be seen that, while the resolving power of a spectro-
scope with grating depends only on the order of the spec-
trum and is independent of the wave-length for each order,
the resolving power of a spectroscope with prism wUl vary
inversely as the third power of the wave-length X, so that
the resolviiig power will be about eight times as great in
the violet as in the red (see Optics). If compound prisms
are used we must write
1000iJ=2(B/j-.gi<,)/\3,
i where <2 is the greatest effective length of path in one
medium, t-^ in the other medium, B^ and .5j being the dis-
persive constants for the two media.
The purity P of a spectrum is given by the equation
d\j/ + \
■where d denotes the width of slit and ^ is the angle sub-
tended by the collimator lens at the slit. If the slit is
sufficiently narrowed, d tp may be made small compared to
A, and in that case the purity of the spectrum is independ-
ent of the width of slit and equal to the resolving power.
If, on the other hand, a ■wide slit is used, so that d ip is
large compared to A, the purity becomes inversely pro-
portional to the width of sUt. In actual work the slit is
generally of such ■width that neither term in the denomi-
nator of the expression for purity can be neglected.
There is a necessary limit to the resolving power of all
optical instruments, depending on the fact that light con-
sists of a series of groups of waves incapable of interfering
■with each other, if it is true, as is generally believed, but
without sufficient reason, that a retardation of 60,000 wave-
lengths is sufficient to destroy "the capability of interfer-
ence— that is to say, that the groups consist on the average
of approximately 50,000 waves — the maximum purity ob-
tainable in any spectroscope is 50. The closest line resolved
■with a grating, as far as the present writer is aware, requires
a resohang power of about 100. Professor Piazzi Smyth
has with prisms realized a purity of 50. It would seem,
therefore, that the theoretical limit of purity has very nearly
been reached, for, though the estimate of 50,000 waves to
the group is in all probability too small, there are other
considerations which render it highly improbable that the
total number of waves to the group should, for sunlight
at any rate, be more than two or three times larger. The
limit of possible purity will very likely depend on the
temperature of the luminous body.
Almost the greatest practical difficulty which the spectro-
scopist has to contend with generally is the want of suffi-
cient light. The following remarks apply to line spectra
principally, but they hold also almost entirely for the
spectra of fluted bands, which break up into lines under
high resolving power. The maximum illumination for any
line is obtained when the angular ■n-idth of the slit is equal
to the angle subtended by one wave-kngth at a distance
equal to the collimator aperture. In that case d\p = \ and
the purity is half the resolving power. Hence when light
is a consideration we shall not, as a rule, realize more than
half the resolving power of the spectroscope. If the visual
impression depended only on the intensity of illumination,
a further widening of the slit should not increase the visi-
bility of a line. As a matter of fact spectroscopists gener-
ally work with slits wider than that which theoretically
gives full illumination. The explanation of the fact is
physiological, visibility depending on the apparent width
of the object. If different spectroscopes have their slits of
such width that the apparent width of a line as seen by
the eye is the same, and if .the magnifying power is such
that the pupil is just filled with light, the purity of the
spectrum is directly proportional to the resolving power.
We come to the conclusion, therefore, that for both narrow
and wide slits the efficiency of a spectroscope depends ex-
clusively on its resolving power. It has been pointed out
by Lord Rayleigh that, owing to the want of definition in
the optical images on the retina when the full aperture qf
the pupil is used, the pencil must be contracted to a third
or a quarter 6f its natural width, if full resolving power i9
to be obtained. This is accompanied with a serious loss
of light, which can be partly obviated by contracting the
horizontal aperture only (the refracting edge being supposed
vertical). There are two ways of doing this. One con-
sists in the use of magnifying half prisms. But the loss
of light by reflexion in simple half prisms more than
counterbalances the advantage ; compound half prisms^like
those used by Christie may, however, be employed. We
may also use prisms of three or four times the height of
the effective horizontal aperture, with correspondingly large
telescopes, and then by the eye-piece contract the beam
until its vertical section fills the pupil. The latter plan,
though theoretically best, involves more expensive appa-
ratus and prisms of very homogeneous material.
The question of illumination is important also when
photography is used for spectroscopic analysis. For a
given intensity of the source of light the intensity of the
image on the sensitive film will be directly proportional
to the solid angle of the cone of light forming the last
image, and will be independent of the arrangement of inter-
mediate lenses. Hence lenses ■with as short a focus com-
pared to aperture as is consistent with good definition
should be used in the camera.
The methods of recording and reducing spectroscopic
observations are described in all books and treatises on
the subject and may therefore be passed over here.
A lens is often used to concentrate the light of th^ source
on the slit. There is some loss of light due to reflexion
from the surface of the lens, but its position, aperture, and
focal length do not affect the luminosity of the spectrum
seen as long as the whole collimator is filled with Ught.
Bodies are rendered luminous for spectroscopic investi-
gation either by being placed in the Bunsen flame or by
the help of the electric current. A little difficulty may
arise where the body is given in solution and does not
show its characteristic lines in the flame. Lecoq de Bois-
baudran takes the spark from the surface of the solution.
The present writer has found the tube sketched in the
figure on the next page a great improvement on those
commonly used, if a sufficient quantity of the solution is af
SPECTROSCOPY
375
Some sub-
Land ; otherwise the method is too wasteful. The current
is brought into the solution by a platinum wire, sealed
into a small glass tube ; the platinum wire
reaches about to the level of the open end
of the tube. A capillary of thick -walled
glass tubing is placed over the platinum
wire; the liquid rises in the capillary and
sparks can be taken as from a solid. The
lines due to the glass arc easily eliminated.
If a small quantity of material only is avail-
able, the plan adopted by Bunsen and ex-
tensively used by Hartley ' seems the most
successful. Pointed pieces of charcoal (Bun-
sen) or pieces of graphite pointed to a knife
edge (Hartley) are impregnated with the
liquid, and the spark is taken from them,
stances, when introduced into a vacuum tube, especially
near the negative pole, and under groat exhaustion, show
a characteristic phosphorescence. Bocquerel was the first
to e-xaraine the spectra shown under these circumstances,
and Crookes has lately used the same method with great
success.
Spectra of Metalloids.
A good deal of discussion has taken place on the spectra of the
metalloids, owing to the fact that they seem to be able to give
diflerent spectra under dilTerent circumstances. Spectra have occa-
sionally been assigned to the elements which on further investiga-
tion were found to belong to some compound present. Accordiug
to the general opinion of spcctroscopists at present, different spectra
of the same elements are always due to different allotropic condi-
tions. If a complex molecule breaks up into simpler molecules
the breaking up is always accompanied by a change of spectrum.
' Xitrogen. — (a) The line spectrum appears whenever a strong spark
(jar discharge) is taken in nitrogen gas. It is always present when
metallic spectra are examined by the ordinary method of allowing
the jar discharge to pass between metallic poles." Hartley (Phil.
Trans., 1884, part i.) has measured the ultra-violet lines of the air
spectrum, but has not separated the oxygen from the nitrogen lines.
(6) The band spectrum of the positive discharge, which is generally
called the band spectrum of nitrogen, always appears when the
discharge is sufficiently reduced in intensity. The spectrum con-
sists of two sets of bands of different appearance, one in the less re-
frangible part and one in the more refrangible part of the spectrum,
—the two sets of bands overlapping in the green. Hence some
observers believe the spectrum to be made up of two distinct spectra.
Pliicker and Hittorf (PAii. Trans., 1865) give a coloured d«awing
of this spectrum, which is one of the most beautiful that can be
observed. The most complete drawing of it is given by Piazxi
Smyth (Trans. Roy. Soc. idin., vol. x.xxii. part iii.}, and there is
also a good drawing by Hassclberg (3Um. Acad. Imp. dc St.Petersb.,
vol. xxxii. ). (c) The glow which surrounds the negative electrode
in an exhausted tube shows in many cases a spectrum which, as a
rule, is not seen in any other part of the tube. The memoir of
Hassclberg contains a drawing of it. The spectrum seen when a
weak spark is taken in a current of ammonia is neither that of
nitrogen nor that of hydrogen, but must be due to a compound of
these ga^es. When the pressure of the gas is reduced, a single band
is seen having a wave-length from 5686 to 5627 A'th metres (N'alure,
vi. p. 359). When a spark is taken from a liquid solution of
ammonia a more complicated spectrum appears (Lecoq do Bois-
baudran), and, if ammonia and hydrogen are burnt together eitlier
in air or oxygen, a complicated spectrum is obtained the chemical
origin of which has not been satisfactorily explained. Drawings of
it are given by Dibbits (Fogg. Ann., exxii. p. 518) and by Hofmann
(Pogg. Ann., c.xlvii. p. 95). The absorption spectrum of the red
fames of nitrogen tetroxide has often been mapped ; the most per-
fect drawing is given by Dr B. Hasselbcrg (Mem. Acad. Imp. de St.
Pit., xxvi.). According to Mcser (Pogg. Ann., cLx. p. 177), three
bands close to the solar line C disappear when the vapour is heated.
Recently Deslandes has obtained m vacuum tubes some ultra-
violet bands which seem to be due to a compound of nitrogen and
oxygen (C. K., chap. i. p. 1256, 1885)..
Ojijgcn. — (a) The elementary line spectrum of oxygen is that
which appears at the highest temperature to which wc can subject
<'xygcn, tnat is, whenever the jar and air break are introduced into
the electric circuit It consists of a great number of lines, especially
in the more refrangible part of the spectrum, (b) The compound
• PhU. Trans., clxxv. p. 49 (1884).
' We may refer once for all to Watts, Index of Spectra, for a list
of wave-lengths of the different spectra.
line spectrum of oxygen appcam at lower temperatures than tl»B
tirst. It consists, according to Piazzi Smyth, of six triplets and a
number of single lines. This spectrum corresponds to the band
spectrum of nitrogen, (c) The continuous spectruiri of oxygen
appears at the lowest temperature at which oxygen is luminous.
The wide part of a Pliicker tube, for instance, filled with pure oxygen
generally shines with a faint yellow light, which gives a continuous
spectrum. Even at atmospheric pressure this spectrum can be ob-
tained by putting the contact breaker of the induction coil out
of adjustment, ^ that the spark is weakei ed. (d) The spectrum
of the negative glow was first accurately described by Wiilhier, and
is alwuys seen in the glow surrounding the negative electrode in
oxygen. It consists of five bands, three in the red and two in
the green. For further information respecting these spectra, see
Schuster (Phil. Trans., clxx. p. 37, 1879) and Piazzi Smyth (Trajis.
Roy. Soc. Edin., vol. xxxii. part iii.). Accordiug to EgorofT, the
A and B lines of the solar spectrum are due to absorption by oxygen
in our atmosphere, and some recent observations of Janssen seem
to support this view.
Carbon. — (a) The line spectrum appears when a very strong spark
is sent through carbonic oxide or carbonic acid. The ultra-violet
lines observed by Hartley when sparks are taken from graphite
electrodes also belong probably to this spectrum, (b) Considerable
discussion has taken place as to the origin of the spectrum seen at
the base of a candle or a gas flame. At lirst observations seemed to
point to the fact that it was due to a hydrocarbon. It has been
ascertained, however, that sparks taken in cyanogen gas, even when
dried with all care, show the spectrum, and a flame of cyanogen
and oxygen gives the same bands brilliantly. These facts have
convinced the majority of observers that the spectrum is a true
carbon spectrum. The best drawing is given by Piazzi Smyth,
who ascribes the spectrum, however, to a hydrocarbon. The flame
of cyanogen, which had already been examined by Faraday and
Draper before the days of spectrum analysis, shows a series of
bands in the red, reaching into the green. There is no doubt that
they are due to a compound of nitrogen and oxygen. Another series
of bands in the blue, violet, and ultra-violet have been also proved
by Liveing and Dewar to be due to a compound of nitrogen and
carbon. If the discharge is passed at low pressure through carbonic
acid or carbonic o.xide a spectrum is seen which seems to belong to
carbonic oxide. A very beautiful and remarkable drawing of this
specti-um, especially of its most biilliant band, has been published
by Piazzi Smyth.
Very little need,bc said of the remaining metalloids, as we do not
possess a sufficiently careful examination of their spectra. Chlorine
bromine, and iodine show bands by absorption. If a spark is passed
through the gases line spectra appear. Sulphur volatilized in a
vacuum tube may show either a line or a band spectrum under the
influence of the electric discharge. The absorption through the
vapour of sulphur is continuous at first on volatilization, but as the
vapour is heated to 1000° the continuous spectrum gives way to a
band spectrum. A spark through the vapour of phosphorus gives
a line spectruhi. Wo may obtain the spectra of fluorine, silicon,
and boron by comparing the spectra given by sparks taken in
atmospheres of fluoride of boron and fluoride of silicon,
Spectra of Metals and their Compounds.
Hydrogen. — If sparks are taken through hydrogen, fonr well-
known lines appear in the visible region of the spectrum. The
remarkable series of ultra-\iolet lines photographed by Dr Huggins
in the spectra of some stars which in their visible part show hydro-
gen chiefly has suggested tko question whether the whole series is
not due to that gas. This has now been proved to be the case by
Cornu, who has recently examined the hydrogen spectrum with
great care. In vacuum tubes filled with hydrogen a complicated
spectrum often appeal's which is so persistent that nearly all ob-
servers have ascribed it to hydrogen (tnough Salet had given reasons
against that conclusion). According to Cornu, the purer the gas
the feebler does this spectrum become, so that the above-mentioned
lino spectrum seems to be the oidy true hydrogen spectrum. A
flame of hydrogen in air or oxygen shows a number of lines in the
ultra-violet belonging apparently to an oxide of hydrogen (Live-
ing and Dewar, Huggins). Aqueous vapour gives an absorption
spectrum principally in the yellow.
Alkali Mdals.—Tho metals of the alkali group are distinguished
by the fact that their salts give the true metal spectra when ren-
dered luminous in the Bunsen burner ; that is to say, their salts are
decomposed and the radiation of theip metallic base is sufficiently
powerful to bo visible at the tenipcratuio of the flame. Their
spectra are not so easily seen if sparks are taken from the liquid
solution, but I.ccoq dc Boi'ibaudnu has obtaini'd fine spectra of
sodium and potassium by taking the spark from n semi-fluid bead
of the sulphates. The most complete (kscription of the spectra of
sodium and potassium seen when the n)ot.il8 arc heated up in the
voltaic arc is given by Liveing and Dewar (Proc. I!vy. Soe., xxix.
p. 378, 1879), who have also mapped thoir ultra-violet lines (Pktt.
Trans., 1883, pt. i.). Abuoy has found a nair of infra-red line*
376
SPECTROSCOPY
belonging to soJium, with wave-lengths 8187 and 8199 {Pfoc. Itoij.
Soc, xxxii. p. 443, 1881). Becquerel finds lines in the infia-red
at 11,420. The vapouf of sodium and potassium heated up in a
tube is coloured and shows a spectrum of fluted band ; but in the
case of sodium the yellow line is always present at the same time.
It is probable that the band spectrum belongs to the vapour, con-
taining two atoms in each molecule, and that at higher tempera-
tures the molecules are split up, the single atoms showing the line
spectra. Both potassium and sodium show an additional absorption
line (5510 for Na and 5730 for Ka) at the temperature at which the
fluted bands appear. According to a suggestion of Liveing and
Dewar, these liues may depend ou the presence of hydrogen, which
it is very difficult to exclude. These experfraenters have also de-
scribed interesting but complicated absorption phenomena depend-
ing on the simultaneous presence of two or more metals. Thus
soaium and magnesium show a band in the green (X = 5300), which
does not appear when sodium alone or magnesium alone is volati-
lized. Potassium and magnesium show similarly two lines in the
red {Proc. Pmij. Soc, xxvii. p. 350, 1878). If a spark is taken from
potassium in an atmosphere of carbonic oxide a band appears
(5700) depending probably on a combination between the potassium
and the carbonic oxide. Lockyer has observed certain curious
phenomena {Proc. Roy. Soc, vol. xxii. p. 378) taking place at the
temperature at which the baud spectrum of sodium changes into
the line spectrum ; these phenomena deserve a fuller investigation.
Lithium furnishes a good example of a change in the relative in-
tensity of lines at different temperatures. At the temperature of
the fiame the red line is the most powerful, an orange line being
also seen. When a spark is taken from a liquid solution the orange
line is far the strongest, and a blue line is seen, which in its turn
rapidly gains in intensity as the temperature is raised. When the
spark is taken from sohitious of different strengths the more con-
centrated solution shows a change in relative intensity of lines in
the direction in which an increase of temperature would act. Com-
bination of the metals with transparent acids does not when in
solution show any appreciable absorption in the visible part of the
spectrum ; but Soret has mapped their ultra-violet absorption.
Metals of Alkaline Earths. — Calcium, strontium, and barium are
distinguished by the fact that their volatile compounds give fine
spectra in the Bunsen flame. The more stable salts, as the phos-
phates and silicates, give the reaction only feebly or not at all.
When a salt like the chloride of barium is introduced into the
flame the spectrum is seen to change gradually ; the spectrum seen
at first is different according as the chloride, bromide, or iodide is
used, while the spectrum which finally establishes itself is the same
for the different salts of the same metal. Mitscherlich, who was the
first to investigate carefully these phenomena {Pogg. Ann., cxxi. p.
459, 1864), ascribes the spectra seen at first to the compound placed
in the flame, whUe gradually the oxide spectrum gets the upper
hand. This explanation has always been accepted, and receives
support from the fact that the bromide spectrum is strengthened
by introducing bromine vapour into the fiame, and the other
compound spectra can be similarly strengthened by introducing
suitable vapours. There is an observation, however, made by Pro-
fessors Liveing and Dewar which in one case is not compatible with
Mitschcrlich's explanation. "A mixture of barium carbonate,
aluminium tilings, and lamp-black heated in a porcelain tube gave
two absorption lines in the green, corresponding in position to
bright lines seen when sparks are taken from a solution of Ijarium
chloride, at wave-lengths 5242 and 5136, marked a and /3 by Lecoq
Je Boisbaudran." These two lines, or rather bands, are the brightest
in the spectrum commonly ascribed to barium chloride. In addi-
tion to the compound spectra the brightest of the metallic lines
seen at a low temperature appear in the flame. The metallic line
is in the violet with calcium, in the blue with strontium, and in
the green, with barium. Sparks taken from a solution of the
metallic salts show the compound spectra well, and in addition more
of the true metallic lines than the flame. The best drawings of
the compound spectra are those given in Lecoq de Boisbaudran 's
Atlas ; but measurements with higher resolving powers are much
wanted. W^hen the salts are introduced into the voltaic arc numer-
ous metallic lines appear which have been mapped by Thalen.
Liveing and Dewar have investig.ated those lines which can be
reversed and have also mapped the ultra-violet spectra. Captain
Abney has mapped a pair of infra-red lines belonging to calcium
between 8500 and 8600, and, according to Becquerel, with the help
of a phosphorescent screen bands or lines appear of still lower
refi-angibility (8830 to 8880). Lockyer {Phil. Trans., clxiii. p.
253, 1873, and clxiv. p. 805, 1874) has measured and mapped as
regards their length the lines of these as well as of many of the
other metals.
_ Metals of Magnesium Grottp. — Beryllium presents comparatively
simple spectroscopic phenomena, as far as it has hitherto been in-
vestigated. Two green lines were mapped by Thalen and five in
the ultra-violet by Hartley {Jojir. Cherrt. Soc, June 1883). The
spectrum of magnesium is well known from its green triplet ; but
the vibrations of the metal seem very sensitive to a change of '
conditions. Full details are given by Liveing and Dewar in Proei
Hoy. Soc, xxxii. p. 189. These authors have found that some <if
the bands seen occasionally, when magnesium wire is burned in air,
are due to a compound of magnesium and hydrogen. The spec-
trum appears when sparks are taken from magnesium poles in au
atmosphere containing hydrogen. For a descrijition of the pecu-
liarities of the flame, arc, and spark spectrum, the reader is referred
to the original paper. The ultra-violet spectrum, which contains
several repetitions of the green triplet, has also been mapped aiid
measured by Hartley and Adeney {Phil. Trans., clxxv., 1874, jit i.).
The spectra of zinc and cadmium are obtained either by sparks
from liquid solution or by the spark, with Leyden jar, from tlio
metal poles. The ultra-violet spectra show for both elements a
remarkable series of triplets, the lines of the cadmium tiiplet being
about three times as far apart as those of the zinc triplets. The
least refrangible of the series is in the blue with wave-lengths
5085-1, 4799-1, 46770 for cadmium, and 4809-7, 4721-4, 4679-5 for
zinc.
Lead Group. — The spectrum of lead is best obtained by taking
the spark from the metallic poles. Care must be taken, however, to
renew the surface frequently, otherwise the oxide spectrum will
gradually make its appearance. The oxide itself shows its spectrum,
according to Lecoq de Boisbaudran, in the Bunsen burner. The
salts of thallium show the principal metal line at the temperature
of the flame. The spark spectrum is more complicated. The ultra-
violet spectra of both lead and thallium have been mapped.
Copper Group. — The spectra of the metals belonging to this
group are easily obtained in the ordinary w-ay. AVhen copper
chloride is introduced into the Bunsen flame a fine spectrum of
bands is seen. It is the same spectrum which is found when com-
mon salt is thrown upon white hot coals. This reaction for copper
chloride is very sensitive, but it has never been satisfactorily decided
■nhether the presence of copper is really necessary for its production
or whether the spectrum belongs to a peculiar contiition of chlorine
vapour. Silver when fii-st volatilized gives a green vapour, which
at a low temperature shows continuous absorption, but at a higher
temperature a spectrum of fluted bands (Lockyer). Mercury shows
its lines with great brilliancy if introduced and heated in a vacuum
tube. Some of the line* widen easily, and at higher pressures a con-
tinuous spectrum completely covers the background. The copper
salts in aqueous solution absorb principally the red end of the
spectrum, the green salts also the violet end. The glass, coloured
green with oxide of copper, transmits through sufficient thickness
exclusively the yellow and green ray^ between D and E (H. W;
Vogel).
Cerium Group. — YUrimn gives a good spark spectrum from
the solution of the chloride ; the salts show no absorption bands.
Crookes has found, however, that a certain substance yields brilliant
phosphorescent bands under the influence of the negative pole in
a vacuum tube. These bands he has, after a lengthy investigation,
put down to yttrium compounds, and explained the changes they
undergo in different compounds and the sensitiveness of the reaction.
Lecoq de Boisbaudran, who obtains the same spectrum by taking a
spark (without Leyden jar) from solutions, making the solution
the positive pole, has expressed an opinion that the bands are not
due to yttrium but to tw-o substances provisionally called by him
Za and Z(3. He has also under certain conditions seen a higher
temperature spectrum, which he ascribes to Z7, leaving it undecided
whether Z7 is a new substance or identical with Za {Phil. Trans.,
1883, p. 891, and C.R, ci. p. 552, cii. p. 15S).— Lanthanum is easily
recognized by a strong spark spectrum. — Cerium, like yttrium and
lanll'-ipum, has no peculiar absorption spectrum when in combin-
ation and solution ; although the salts are strongly coloured yellow,
its line spectrum has characteristic lines in the blue. — Didymium
is characterized spectroscopically by the fine absorption spectra of
its salts. Different salts show slightly different spectra, but they
can be recognized at first sight as didymium spectra. The crystals
of didymium salts show reinarkable differences in the absorption
spectra according to the direction in which the ray traverses the
crystal. Light reflected from the powdered salts shows the character-
istic spectrum. According to Auer von Welsbach {Monatssehr. f.
Chemie, vi. p. 477), didymium has lived up to its name Slov/iot,
"twins," for by fractional crystallization he has found it to be an
intimate mixture of two substances, each of them giving half the ab-
sorption spectrum and half the emission spectrum of didymium.
— Terbium, has a characteristic line spectrum when the spark is
taken from a solution of the salts. — The salts of erbium give a
characteristic absorption spectrum, but till recently the drawings
of it contained also absorption bands due to thulium and holmium.
The spectrum of erbium, as previously mapped by Thalen, belongs
almost exclusively to ytterbium ; but he has recently mapped
the lines belonging to what is now known as erbium (CA, xci. p.
326). Erbium salts heated in the Bunsen burner show a spectrum
of bright bands without apparent volatilization. — Ytterbium,
discovered by Marignac (atomic w-eight 17-3, Nilson), gives an ab-
sorption band in the nltra-violet. Its luminous spectrum is rich
in lines (Thalen, C.R., xci. p. 326). — Samarium, also discovered by
SPECTROSCOPY
377
Mari<Tiac aim called by him originally YjS, gives absorption bands
in the visible part and in the ultra-violet (Soret, C.R., xc. p. 212).
It frequently occurs with diJymium, and most of the maps of the
didyniivm spectrum contain the samarium bands. When pre-
cipitated with another jnetal it shows a brilliant phosphorescent
spectrum (Crookes), which, however, is slightly different accord-
ing to the metal. The peculiar yttrium spectrum is very weak
«ven when it is mixed in consiilerable quantities with samarium.
But when the quantity of yttrium is increased to about 60 per
cent, a very rapid change takes place, and afterwards it is the
samarium spectrum which, is very weak. A baud in the orange
peculiar to the mixture, weak in pure samarium and absent in
yttrium, is strongest in a mixture containing about 80 per cent, of
samarium and 20 per cent, of ytti'ium. — llolmium, identified as a
separate element by Soret (C.R., xci. p. 378), has absorption bands
in the visible part of the spectrum (6405, 5363, 4855 on Lecoq's
map of chloride of erbium), and also a strongly marked ultra-violet
absorption spectrum. — Thulium, likewise first recognized by Soret,
is band 6840 on Lecoq's drawing of chloride of erbium, and also
■possesses a band at 4645. Thalen has measured the bright line
spectrum {C.R., xci. p. 376, 1880). — Scandium is characterized by
a bright line spectrum (Thalen, C.iJ., xci. p. 48, \iS,Q).—Gadolinitun
(Marignac's \ a) has a weak absorption spectrum in the ultra-
violet and a characteristic phosphorescent spectrum {Proc. Roy.
Soc., February 1886) ; but the latest researches of Crookes have
rendered it probable that it is a mixture of several new elements
(Proc. Roy. Hoc, 10th June 1886). — The mosandrium of Lawrence
Smith seems a mixture of gadolinium and terbium. The philippium
of De la Fontaine was a mixture of yttrium and terbium ; and the
latest dccipium of the same chemist is probably holmium.
Aluminium Group. — The spectra of the raetals belonging to
this group can be obtained in the ordinary way by means of the
electric spark. The chloride of indium shows the two strongest
metallic lines, one in the indigo and one in the violet, when intro-
duced into the Bunsen flame. According to Claydou and Heycock,
a number of other lines appear when the spark is taken from the
metal electrodes. When a weak spark is taken from alurainii'm
electrodes in air a band spectrum is often seen belonging apparently
to the oxide, for it disappears when the spark is taken in hydrogen.
Gallium, another metal belonging to this group, was first discovered
by means of its spectroscopic reaction. The chloride shows two
violet lines feebly in the Bunsen flame, but strongly if a spark is
taken from the liquid solution. The ultra-violet lines of indium
and of aluminium have been photographed by Hartley and Adeney,
as well as by Liveing and Dewar. Some of the lines had been pre-
viously mapped by Cornu, whose researches extend furthest into
the ultra-violet. According to Stokes, aluminium shows lines more
refrangible than those of any other metal, and the wave-lengths of
their lines as measured by Cornu are for one double line 1934, 1929,
and for another 1860, 1852.
Metals of the Iron, Group. — The spectroscopic phenomena of this
group are somewhat complicated. The line spectra can be obtained
either by taking sparks from the metal or from the solution of a
salt, and also by placing the metal in the voltaic arc. The lines
are very numerous and very liable to alter in relative intepsity
nnder different circumstances. The great difference, shown, for
instance, between the arc and spark spectra of iron in the ultra-
violet region is shown in the map by Liveing and Dewar in Phil.
Trans., 1885, pt. i. The visible part has also been 'invesfigated
by the same authors and by Lockyer, and much information has
thus been added to the knowledge previously obtained by Kirchhoff,
Angstrom, and Thalen. That part of tho iron spectrum lying
between a wave-length of 4071 and 2947 has been mapped by Cornu ;
Liveing and Dewar's observations refer chiefly to the more re-
frangible region. Considering the very important part which the
iron spectrum plays in solar ohservations, a full investigation of its
changes by a variation of temperature would at tho p'resent time
bo or great value. If observations with tho method adopted by
Lecoq de Boisbaudran were repeated with liigher resolving powers
they would add much to our knowledge. Some of tho manganese
salts, such as the chloride or carbonate, seem to be the only salts
belonging to this group which show a characteristic spectrum when
heated in tho Bunsen burner or the oxyhydrogcn flame. Tho
spectrum observed in these cases is, according to Watts, tho
characteristic spectrum of tho Bessemer flame, which di.sappcars
at the^ right moment for stopping the blast ; it is pvot>ably duo to
an oxide of manganese. When a spark spectrum is taken from a
solution of the chloride tho same spectrum is seen, but tho relative
intensity of tho lines depends on tho lenp^h and tho strength of
tho spark. The green -coloured nianganates show a continuous
absorption nt tho two ends of the spectrum, transmitting in con-
centrated solutions almost exclusively tho green part of tho spec-
trum. The absorption bands of permanganate of potassium aro
well known and seem to be duo to tlie pi'rmanganic acid, as they
appear also with other permanganates. Tho green salts of nickel
show a continuous absorption at the two ends of the spectrum.
The cobalt •salts show well-defined absorption bauds. Their careful
•JO 1 ri
investigation by Dr W. J. Russell deserves special notice {Proc. Sov
Socxxxii. p. 258, 1881).
Metals of Chromium Group.— The metallic spectra of this group
have been measured principally by Thalen in the usual way.
Lockyer and Roberts have obtained a channelled spectrum of
chromium by absorption. As regards the spectra of compounds
of chromium, the absorption of the vapour of chloro - chromic
anhydride has been measured by Emerson and Reynolds {Phil.
May.,-xlii. p. 41, 1871), and consists of a series of regularly dis-
tributed bands. The chromium salts all possess a decided colour
and show interesting absorption phenomena. The chromates ab-
sorb the violet and blue completely, also the extreme red, and
transmit only the orange, yellow, and in dilute solutions part of
tho green. The most complete investigation of the salts in
which chromium plays the part of a base is due to Erhard in a
dissertation published at Freiburg. Potassium chrom-alum, am-
monia chrom-alum, sulphate of chromium, when in solution, give
an identical absorption for the same amount of chromium. The
extreme red is freely transmitted by the violet solution, but
the absorption grows rapidly towards the yellow. An indistinct
absorption band {X = 6790 to X = 6740) is seen when the layer is
thick or the solution concentrated. The strongest absorption takes
place for a wave-length of 5800. The green is transmitted again
more freely, the minimum absorption taking place for a wave-length
4880 ; the absorption then grows rapidly towards the violet. When
the solutions are heated the colour changes to green, the absorp-
tion is increased throughout the spectrum, except in the green,
where it remains nearly unchanged, and the minimum of absorption
shifts to a wave-length of 5090. The solution, which remains green
on cooling, has, when compared with its original state, an increased
absorption in the red and blue and a slightly diminished absorption
in the green. When light is sent through plates cut out of crystals
of potassium chrom-alum or ammouia chrom-alum, three absorption
bands (6860, 6700, 6620) are seen in the red. The green and blue
show the same absorption as the solution. The chloride in solution
gives the same absorption as the chrom-alums, — transmitting, how-
ever, slightly more light for the same quantity of chromium. Tho
hot solution also shows the same changes, but with this diiTerence
that colour and absorption phenomena are almost entirely recovered
on cooling. The nitrate (solution of chromic hydroxide in nitric
acid) agrees with chrom-alum, but transmits more light Red
crystals of potassic chromic oxalate only transmit the red with an
absorption band slightly less refrangible than B (X = 6867). The
blue salt has the absorption band at a wave-length of 7040 and
transmits part of the light in the green and blue. The solutions of
the salts show the same absorption as the crystals, with the position
of the absorption band apparently unchanged. The warm solutions
absorb more than the cold ones. The oxalate of chromium gives an
absorption band of 6910 to 6860 and transmits the green and blue
more freely than the double salt. The tartrate only shows the absorp-
tion band in the red very weakly and absorbs more red than the
previously mentioned solutions. The acetate transmits more yellow
than the other salts and has some broad absorption bands near a
wave-length of 7170. When the solution is heated it becomes green,
absorbing the red more than when cold, but leaving the green and
blue absorption unchanged. The absorption phenomena shown by
^iranium salts are more complicated than those of the chromium
salts, but they are at the same time more characteristic, as the
spectra are more definitely broken up into bands. According to
Vogel, the uranic and uranous salts behave difl"erent!y {Praklische
Spcctral-Analyse, p. 247), butr a more careful investigation is de-
sirable. Sorby. finds that a mixture of zirconium and uranium
dissolved in a borax bead shows characteristic bands, which aro
visible mwther with uranium nor with zirconium alone.
There is little to be said as regards the remaining groups of
metals (tin, antimony, gold). Their spectra are best obtained by
taking tho spark from metallic electrodes or by volatilization in
the voltaic arc.
Influence of Temperature and Pressure on Spectra of Oases.
If tho spectrum of an element is examined under different con-
ditions of temperature or pressure, it is often found to differ con-
siderably. The change may be small — that is to say, tho lines or
bands may only show a different distribntiou of relative intensity —
or it may bo so large that no relationship at all can bo discovered
between the spectra. It has been pointed out by Kirchlioff that a
change in tho thickness of the luminous layer may produce a change
in the appearance of the spcctnim/and ZoUncr and WuUner have
endeavoured to explain in this way a number of important varia-
tions of spectra. But their explanation docs not stand tho test of
closo examination. The thickness of layer cannot be neglected in
the discussion of solar ond stellar spectra, or in tlio comparison of
absorption spectra of liquids ; but nono of the phenomena which
we shall notice hero aro affected by it
Widening 'of Lines. — The lines of a spectrum aro found to widen
under certain conditions, and, although probably all spectra ore
subject to this change, some aro much more affected by it than
378
SPECTROSCOPY
others. The lines of hydrogen and sodinm. for instance, widen
80 easily that it is sometimes difficult to obtain them quite sharp.
When a system of lines widens it is generally found that the most
refrangible lines widen most easily. A line may expand equally
towards both sides or chiefly towards one side ; in the latter case
the expansion towards the less refrangible side preponderates pretty
nearly in every case. It is the almost unanimous opinion of spectro-
scopists that the widening is produced by an increase of pressure.
If sparks are passed through gases, the lines are always broader at
high than at low pressures, and the metallic lines are also broader
when a spark is taken from them at higher pressures. Without
altering the pressure, we may often produce a widening*of lines by
an increase in the intensity of the discharge, but here the pressure
is indirectly increased by the rise of temperature. According to
the molecular theory of gases, the following explanation might be
given for the widening of lines. As long as a molecule vibrates
by itself uninfluenced by any other molecule, its vibrations will
take place in regular periods. The lines of its spectrum will conse-
quently be sharp. But, if the molecule is placed in proximity with
others, its vibrations will be disturbed by occasional encounters.
During each encounter forces may be supposed to act between the
molecules, and these forces will affect the regularity of the vibra-
tion. The question arises, whether for a given temperature and
pressure a line may be of different width according as the molecule is
placed in an atmosphere of similar or dissimilar molecules. Such
a difference exists in all probability. If gases are mixed in differ-
ent proportions, the lines are sharper when an element is present
in small quantities, although tlie total pressure may be the same.
There is one cause which limits the sharpness of spectroscopic
lines : the molecules of a gas ha^'e a translatory motion. Those
molecules which are moving towards us will send us light which
is slightly more refrangible than those which move away from us ;
hence each line ought to appear as a band. In reality the width
of lines generally is greater than that due to this cause.
Spectra of Different Orders. — Spectra may be classified according
•to their general appearance. The different classes have been called
orders by Pliicker and Hittorf. At the highest temperature we
always obtain spectra of lines which need no further description.
At a lower temperature we often get specti'a of channelled spaces or
fluted bands. When seen in spectroscopes of small resolving power
these seem made of bands which have a sharp boundary on one side
and gradually fade away on the other. With the help of more
perfect instruments it is found that each band is made np of a
number of lines which lie closer and closer together as the sharp
edge is approached. Occasionally the bands do not present a sharp
edge at all, but are made up of a number of lines of equal intensity
at nearly equal distances from each other. Continuous spectra,
which need not neces.<arily extend through the whole range of the
spectrum, form a third order, and appear generally at a lo^er
temperature than either band or line spectrum. One and the same
element may at different temperatures possess spectra of different
orders. A discussion has naturally arisen as to the cause of these
remarkable changes of spectra, and it is generally believed that they
are. due to differences of molecular structure. Thus sulphur vapour
when volatilized shows by absorption a continuous specti'um until
its temperature is raised to 1000°, when the continuous spectrum
gives way tc a spectrum of bands. We know that tlie molecule of
sulphur is decomposed as the temperature is raijed, and wo are
thus justified in saying that the band spectrum belongs to the
molecule containing two atoms, while the continuous spectmm
belongs to the more complex molecule which first appears on
volatilization. When a strong electric spark is passed through
the vapour of sulphur a bright line spectrum is seen, and this is
believed to be due to a further splitting up of the molecule into
nbogle atoms.
Long and Short Lines. — If the spectrum of a metal is taken by
passing the spark between two poles in air the pressure of which
18 made to vary, the relative intensity of some of the lines is often
seen to change. Similar variations take place if the intensity of
^the discharge is altered, as, for instance, by interposing or taking
out a Leyden jar. It is a matter of importance to be able to use a
method which in the great majority of cases will give at once a
' ^ure indication how each line Nvill behave under different circum-
''stances. This method we now proceed to describe. It has often
.'been remarked, even by the earliest observers, that the metallic
I lines when seen in a spectroscope do not always stretch across the
field of ^iew, but are sometimes confined to the neighbourhood
of the metallic poles. Some observations which Lockyer made
jointly with Professor Frankland led him to conclude that the
distance which each metallic line stretched away from the pole
could give some clue to the behaviour of that line in the sun. In
1872 Lockyer worked out his idea. An image of the spark was
formed on the slit of the spectroscope, so that the spectrum of each
( section of the spark could be examined. Some of the metallic
lines were then seen to be conSned altogether to the neighbour-
hood of the poles, while others stretched nearly across the whole
field. The relative length of ail the Unes vv-as estimated. Tables
and maps are added to the memoir.' The longest linos {thf i
those which stretch away farthest from the pole) are by no meana
always the strongest ; and there are many instances where a faint
line is seen to stretch nearly across the whole field of view, while
a strong line may be confined to the neighbourhood of the pole,
or is reduced sometimes to a brilliant point only. We give a few
conspicuous examples of lines wliich are long and weak or short
and strong. In Uthium the blue line (46027) is brilliant but short.
In lead 40625, one of the longest lines, is faint and according
to Lockyer difiicult to observe. In tin 56300 is tlie longest line,
but it is faint, while the stronger lines near it (5588'5 add
5562-5) are shorter. The zinc lines 4923-8, 4911-2, 4809-7, 4721-4,
4679-5 are given by Thalen as of 'equal intensity, but the three
most refrangible ones are longer. On reduction of pressure
Lockyer found that some of the shorter lines rapidly decreased
in length, while the longer lines remained visible and were some-
times hardly affected. When the spark was taken from a metallic
salt instead of from the metal the short lines could not be seen,
hut only the long lines remained. An alloy behaves in the same
manner as a compound, and by gradually reducing one constitueni
of an alloy we may gradually reduce the number of lines, which
disappear in the inverse order of their length. Subsequent work
has shown that the longest lines are also generally those which are
most persistent on reduction of temperature, so that in the
voltaic arc tlie longest lines seen in the spark are absent. lo
order to explain these facts it seems necessary in the first place
to assume that the short lines are lines coming out at a high
temperature only ; but this explanation is not sufficient. AVhy
should a mixture of different elements only show the longest lines
of that constituent which is present in small quantities ? In the
case of chemical combinations we rjiight assume that, the spark
having to do the work of decomposition, the temperature of the
metal is lowered, and that therefore the short lines are absent
But this cannot be if a chemical compound is replaced by a mechani-
cal mixture. All these facts would be explained, however, if
we assume that the spectrum of a molecule that is excited by
molecules of another kind consists of those lines chiefly which a
molecule of the same kind is already capable of bringing out at
a lower temperature. It would follow from this that the effects of
dilution are the same as those of a reduction of temperature, —
which is the case.
Other Changes in Eelative Intensity of Lines. — Besides the
changes we have noticed, there are others which have not been
brought under any rule as yet. Lines appear sometimes at a low
temperature which behave differently from the proper low-tem-
perature lines. These req-iiire further investigation. They may,
in some cases at least, be due to some compound of the metal with
other elements present. We give some examples. If a spark is
taken from lead without the condenser the line 5005 appears,
and Huggins has found it to be sensibly coincident with the chiet
line of the nebulae It is given as a strong line by Lecoq de Bois-
baudran, who used feeble sparks, and ia many cases it seeias to
behave as a low -temperature line; it ought to be a long line
therefore, but it is in reality short- In line 6100 of tin, Salet
noticed that when a hydrogen flame contains a compound of tin an
orange line appears, which is apparently coincident with the orange
line of lithium. This line does not ligure on any of the maps of
the tin specti-um. Lockyer found that zinc, volatilized in an iron
tube, showed by absorption a green line. It is very likely the line
5184 seen by Lecoq de Boisbaudran in sparks taken from solution of
zinc salts. In the absorption spectra of sodium and potassium lines
appear in the green which were shown by Liveing and Dewar not to
be coincident with any known line of these metals. It was suggested
by them that tliey are due to hydrogen compounds. The wave-
length of the sodium line is 5510 and that of the potassium line 57S0.
Lecoq de Boisbaudran mentions that an increase of temperature
is often accompanied by a relatively greater increase in the bril-
liancy of the more refrangible rays. It is often said that such an
increase is a direct consequence of the formula established by
Kirchhoff. If the absorbing power of a molecule remains the
same while the temperature is increased, it follows that the" blue
rays gain more quickly in intensity than the red ones, but the less
refrangible rays ought never to decrease in intensity, the quantity
of luminous matter remaining the same. Now such a decrease
is actually observed in many cases when there is no reason to
suppose that the quantity of luminous matter has been reduced.
We must conclude, therefore, that the observed differences in the
spectra are not solely regulated by KirchhofiPs law ; but it is a
perfectly plausible hypothesis that a higher temperature is in
general accompanied by a decj-ease ia the absorbing power of the
less refrangible rays. As a stronger impact often brings out higher
tones, stronger molecular shocks may bring out waves of smaller
length. There are several instances of a regular increase in the
relative intensity of the blue rays which may be ascribed to this
cause. The most remarkable instance is perhaps seen in the spcc-
1 mi. Trails., clxiii. p. 253 (1873).
SPECTROSCOPY
379
tram of phosphoretted hydrogen. If a little phosphoras is intro-
duced into an apparatus generating hydrogen, the flame will show
s series of bands chiefly in the green. The spectrum gets more
hrilliant if the flame is cooled. This can be done, according to
galet,' by pressing the flame against a surface kept cool by means
bf a stream of water or by surrounding the tube, at the orifice of.
jrhich the gas is lighted, by a wider tube through which cold air is
blown. The process of cooling the flame, according to Lecoq,*
changes the relative intensity of the bands in a perfectly regular
manner. The almost invisible least refrangible band becomes
strong, and the second band, which was weaker than the fourth,
now becomes stronger. Another example of a similar change is
the spectrum shown by a Bunsen burner. By charging the burner
with an indiflerent gas' (N, HCl, CO.) the flame takes a greenish
colour, and, though the spectrum is not altered, the least refran-
gible of the bands are increased in intensity. While in these in-
stances the changes are perfectly regular, the more refrangible rays
gaining in relative intensity as the temperature is increased, there
are other cases, some of which hare already been mentioned, in.
which the changes are very irregular ; such are those which take
place in the spectra of tin, lithium, and magnesium. In the case
of zinc the less refrangible of the group of blue rays gains in relative
intensity. We cannot, therefore, formulate any general law.
numerical Eelaiions ietwccn the Wave-Ungtha of Lines belonging to
I the Spectrum of a Body.
It seems a priori probable ttiat there is a numerical relation be-
tween the different periods of the same vibrating system. In certain
sounding systems, as an organ-pipe or a stretched string, the
relation is a simple one, these periods being a submultiple of one
which is called the fundamental period. The harmony of a com-
pound sound depends on the fact that the diSerent times of vibra-
tion are in the ratio of small integer numbers, and hence two
vibrations are said to be in harmonic relation when their periods
are in the ratio of integers. We may with advantage extend the
expressioa "harmonic relation" to the case of light, although theso-
caUed harmony of colours has nothing to do with such connexions.
We shall therefore define an " harmonic relation " between different
lines of a spectruoi to bo a relation such that the wave-lengths or
wave-numbers are in the ratio of integers, the integers being suffi-
ciently small to suggest a real connexion. Some writers use the
word in a wider sense and call a group of lines harmonics when
they show a certain regularity in their disposition, giving evidence
of some law, that law not being in general the harmonic law. We
shall here use the expression in its stricter sense only. We begin
by discussing the (Juestion whether there are any well-ascertained
cases of harmonic relationship between the different vibrations of
the same molecule. The most important set of lines exhibiting such
a relationship are three of the hydrogen lines which, when pro-
perly corrected for atmospheric refraction, are, as pointed out by
.lohnstone Stoney, very accurately in the ratio of 20 : 27 : 32 (Phil.
Hug., xli. p. 291, 1871). Other elements also show such ratios ;
but when a spectrum has many liue€ pure accident will cause several
to exhibit whatever numerical relations we may wish to ii opose on
them. If we calculate the number of harmonic ratios which, with
an assumed limit of accuracy, we may expect in a spectrum like
that of iron, we find that there are in reality fewer than we should
have if they were distributed quite at random {Proc. Roy. Soc.,
ixiL p. 337, 1881). With fractions having a denominator smaller
than seventy the excess of the calculated over the observed values
is very marked, while there are rather more coincidences than wo
should expect on the- theory of probability if we take fractions
having a denominator between seventy and a hundred. The cause
of this, probably, is to be sought in the fact that the lines of an
element are liable to form groups and are not spread over the whole
spectrum, as they would ho if they were distributed at random.
This increases the probability of coincidence with fractions between
high numbers, and diminishes the probability of coincidence with
tractions between lower numbers. There is one point which deserves
renewed investigation. . When the limits of agreement between
which a coincidence is assumed to exist are taken narrower, there
is an increased number of observed as compared with calculated
coincidences in the iron spectrum ; and this would seem to point
to the existence of some true harmonic ratios. With the solar
maps and gratings put at our disposal by Professor Rowland, wo
may hope to obtain more accurate measurements, and therefore
more definite information. Even if the wavo-lenjjths of two lines
are found to bo occasionally in tho ratio of small integer numbers,
it does not follow that the vibrations of molecules are regulated by
the samo laws aa those of an organ-pipe or of a stretched string;.
E. J. Balmer* has indeed lately suggested a law which differs in
an important manner from the laws of vibration of the ofgan-
1 Ann. CTiim. Phyt., xxviii. p. KJ (1878).
" • ■ . 188(187<)l
pipe and which still leaves the ratios of the periods of vibration
integer numbers. According to him, the hydrogen spectrum can
be represented by the equation
where X, is some wave-length and m an integer number greater
than 2. The following table (I.) shows the agreement between the
calculated and observed hydrogen lines. And the agreement is a
very remarkable one, for the whole of the hydrogen spectrum is re-
presented by giving to m successive integer values up to sixteen.
Xo=3645.
tJbserved
Hydrogen
Xo=3645.
Obsen-ed
Hydrogen
m.
■irfl\l(.-m.i-t).
Bpectrum.
m.
miVC"^--*)-
Spectrum.
3
6561-0
6562-1
10
3796-9
3795-0
4
4860-0
4860-7
11
3769-6
S767-5
5
4339-3
4340-1
12
S749-1
8745-5
C
4100-6
4101-2
13
3733-3
S730-0
7
3969-0
3968-1
14
3720-9
8717-5
3
8888-0
3887-5
15
3711-0
3707-6
9
3834-3
3834-0
16
3702-9
3699-0
* Spccirf Liiminrttx. p.
* Op. til., p. 43 (1874).
* >Vi€d. Ann., XXV. p.
p. 80 0885).
The differences between the observed and the calculated numbers
show a regular increase toivards the ultra-violet. It might be
thought that a better agreement could be obtained by taking a
number slightly different from four in the denominator ; but this
is not the case. On the contrary, the agreement in the visible
part, is at once destroyed if we make the ultra-violet lines fit better.
The agreement is not improved but rendered slightly worse if we
take account of atmospheric refraction.
As a first approximation Balmer's expression gives a very good
account of the hydrogen spectrum. If the law was general we
should find that in the iron spectrum, for instance, which is the
only spectrum carefully examined, those fractions would occur more
frequently than others which can be put into the form m"j{m^ - n'),
that is to say, | and f for fractions made up of numbers smaller
than 10. A reference to the table in Proc. Moy. Soc., vol xxxi. p.
337, shows that these fractions do not occur more frequently
than others. But, if we change the sign of n- in the denominator,
we find I and -^ as the only fractions falling within the range' of
spectrum examined, and these two fractions are indeed those which
occur more frequently than any others made up of numbers smaller
than 10.
It might be worth trying to see whether the -wave-lengths of lines
making up ailuted band can be put into the form —j±:^i\)> accord-
ing to the sign chosen in the denominator, the band would shade
off towards the blue or red. The form of expression seems at first
sight well .adapted, for it shows how by giving m gradually in-
creasing numbers the lines come closer and closer together towards
what appears in the spectrum as the sharp edge of the band. If
we take periods of vibration instead of wave-lengths Balmer'a
expression would reduce to
'-•['-©']■
where T„ is a fixed period of vibration, n a constant integer, and m
an integer to which successive values are given from n upwards.
It is often observed, and has already been mentioned, that the
spectrum of some elements contains in close nroximity two or thrco
lines forming a characteristic group. Such doublets or tnplcts are
often repeated, aud if the harmonic law was a general one we should
expect the ^vave-lengths of these groups to be ruled by it ; but such
is not the case. The sodium lines which lie in the visible part of
the spectrum are all double, the components being the closer to-
gether the more refrangible the group. But neither are the lines
themselves in any simple ratios of integers, nor do the distances
between the lines show much regularity. The ultra-violet hncs of
sodium as photographed by Livcing and Dcwar arc single, witli the
exception of the least refrangible of them (3301). But this line
is a very close double, and it may be that the others will ultimately
be resolved. Some elements, such as magnesium, calcium, zinc,
cadmium, show remarkable series of triplet.^; and the relative dis-
tanccs of the three lines seem well maintained in ench of them.
Even the distances when mapped on the wave-number scale arc so
nearly the same for each clement that it would be a mntler ol (rroat
importance to settle definitively whether the sli-ht variations which
are found to exist are real or duo to errors of measurement, in
the follo«-ing table (II.) wo give the position of the least n-franpiMe
line of each triplet together with the distances between tlio lirst
and second (column B) and between the seroiul and third lino oi
each triplet (column C). The figures in column A «P"«'7 '""
number of waves in one millimetre. For the zinc and calcinin
triplets the measurements of Liveing and Downr are given ; the
magnesium triplets are put down as measured by Cornu as well .w
by Hartley- anil Adency. The diffcrrnres in t'"-'»<L.""=»;'"^"^""''"f
,rill give an idea of tlic degree of unorrtainty The tnrj'^ »[
cadmium are farther apart and are mixed up with a greater numlwr
of single lino?..
380
SPECTROSCOPY
^"
2inc
Triplets.
Calcium Triplets. |
A.
B
C.
A. B.
C.
200-2
37
19
2245 10
5
3257
38
20
2517 11
5
S571
40
18
2744 ; 10
G
3086
40
19
286S 10
6
3833
40
18
2977
10
5
3975
38
19
3044
11
C
4057
41
17
3101
11
5
3174
10
5
3208
10
Magnesiuru Triplets. i
Coniu.
Hartley and Adeney.
A.
B.
C.
1-9
A.
B.
C.
1929-3 >
4-2
2605-6
3-9
2 0
2605-8
4-1
1-7
2997-4
4-0
2-4
2999-2
3-8
2-7
3229-8
4-5
2-1
3-230-4
3-9
1-9
3399-0 2
4-1
1-2
Relation beiiveen Spectrum of a Body and
Spectra of its Compounds.
The spectrum of a body is due to periodic motion within
the molecules. If we are justified in believing that the
molecule of mercury vapour contains a single atom, it
follows that atoms are capable of vibration under the action
of internal forces, for mercury vapour has a definite spec-
trum. We may consider, then, the spectrum to be de-
termined in the first place by forces within the atom, but
to be afiected by the forces which hold together the different
atoms within the molecule. The closer the bond of union
the greater the dependence of the vibrations on the forces
acting between the different atoms. Experimental evidence
seems to favour these views, fur we observe that whenever
elements are loosely bourd together we can recognize the
influence of each constituent, while in the compounds which
are sufficiently stable to resist the temperature of incandes-
cence the spectrum of the compound is perfectly distinct
from the spectra of the elements. The oxides and haloid
salts of the alkaline earths, for instance, have spectra in
which we cannot trace the vibrations of the component
atoms; but the spectra of the different salts of 'the same
metal show a great resemblance, the bands being similar and
similarly placed. The spectrum seems displaced towards
the red as the atomic weight of the haloid increases.
No satisfactory numerical relationship has, however, been
traced between the bands. The number of compounc'^
which will endure incandescence -without decomposition is
very small, and this renders an exhaustive investigation
of the relationship between their spectra very difficult.
The compounds -whose absorption spectra have been investigated
have often been of a more unstable nature, and, moreover, dis-
sociation seems going on in liquid solutions to a large extent ; the
influence of the component radicals iu the molecule is more marked
in consequence. Dr Gladstone,' at an early period in the history
of spectrum analysis, examined the absorption spectra of the solu-
tion of salts, each constituent of which was coloured. He concluded
that generally, but not invariably, the following law held good :
*' When an acid and a base combine each of which has a different
influence on the rays of light a solution of the resulting salt will
transmit only those rays which are not absorbed by either, or, in
other words, which are transmitted by both." He nientious as an
important exception the case of ferric ferro-cyanide, which, when
dissolved in oxaUc acid, transmits blue rays in great abundance,
though the same rays are absorbed both by ferro-cyanides and by
ferric salts. Soret has confirmed, for the ultra-violet rays, Dr
Gladstone's conclusions with regard to the identity of the absorption
spectra of different chromates. The chromates of sodium, potassium,
and ammonia, as well as the bichromates of potassium and ammonia,
were found to give the same absorption spectrum. Nor is the
effect of these chromates confined to the blocking out simply of
one end of the spectrum, as in the visible part, but two distinct
absorption bands are seen, which seem unchanged in position if one
of the above-mentioned chromates is replaced by another. Chromic
«cid itself showed the bands, but less distinctly, and Soret does not
' Measured by Thalen. ^ Measured by Liveins and Dewar.
=■ Pha. Mag., iiv. p. ^18 08571.
consider the puritj- of the acid sufficiently proved to allow him to
draw any certain conclusion from this observation. Erhard's work
ou the absorption spectra of the salts in which chromium plays the
part of base has already been mentioned. -Nitric acid and the
nitrates of transparent bases, such as potassium, sodium, and
ammonia, show spectra, according to Soret, which are not only
qualitatively but also quantitatively identical ; that is to say, a
given quantity of nitric acid in solution gives a characteristic
absorption baud of exactly the same width and darkness, whether
by itself alone or combined with a transparent base. It also shows
a continuous absorption at the most refrangible side, beginning
with each of the salts mentioned at exactly the same point. Th.-
ethereal nitrates, however, give different results. In 1872 Hartley
and Huntington examined by photographic methods the absorption
spectra of a great number of organic compounds. The normal
alcohols were found to be transparent to the ultra-violet rays, the
normal fatty acids less so. In both cases an increased number of
carbon atoms increases the absorption at the most refrangible enjl.
The fact that benzene and its derivatives are remarkable for their
powerful absorption of the most refrangible rays, and for some
characteristic absorption bands appearing on dilution, led Hartley
to a more extended examination of some of the more complicated
organic substances. He determined that definite absorption bands
are only produced by substances in which three pairs of carbon
atoms are doubly linked together, as in the benzene ring. More
recently* he has subjected the ultra-violet absorption of the alkaloids
to a careful investigation, and has arrived at the conclusion that
the spectra are sufficiently characteristic to "offer a ready and
valuable means of ascertaining the purity of the alkaloids and
particularly of establishing their identity." "In comparing the
spectra of substances of similar constitution it is observed that in
such as are derived from bases by the substitution of an alkyl
radical for hydrogen, or of an acid radical for hydroxyl, the curve is
not altered in character, but may vary in length when equal weights
are examined. This is explained by the absorption bands being
caused by the compactiTess of structure of the nucleus of the
molecule, and that equal weights are not molecular weights, so that
by substituting for the hydrogen of the nucleus radicals which
exert no selective absorption the result is a reduction in the ab-
sorptive power of a given weight of the substance. . . . Bases which
contain oxydized radicals, as hydroxyl, methoxyl, and carboxyl,
increase in absorptive power in proportion to the amount of oxygen
they contain."
It would seem, however, by comparing the above results with
those' obtained by Captain Abney and Colonel Testing' that the
absorption of a great number of organic substances is more char-
acteristic in the infra-red than in the ultra-violet. Some of the
conclusions arrived at by these experimentalists are of great im-
portance, as the following quotations will show : — " Regarding th«
general absorption. w-e have nothing very noteworthy to lemark,
beyond the fact that, as a rule, in the hydrocarbons of the same
series those of heavier molecular constitution seem to have less
than those of lighter." This effect agrees with the observation!
made by Hartley and Huntington in the ultra-violet, in so far
as a general shifting of the absorption towards the red seems to
take place as the number of carbon atoms is increased. Such a
shifting would increase the general absorption in the ultra-violet
as observed by H.irtley and Huntington, and decrease it in the
infra-red as observed by Abney and Testing. Turning their atten-
tion next to the sharply defined lines, the last named, by a series ol
systematic experiments, concluded that these must be due to the
hydrogen atoms in the molecule. "A crucial test was to observe
spectra containing hydrogen and chlorine, hydrogen and oxygen,
and hydrogen and nitrogen. AVe therefore tried hydrochloric acid
and obtained a spectrum containing some few lines. Water gave
Hues, together with bands, t%Yo lines being coincident with those
in the spectrum of hydrochloric acid. In ammonia, nitric acid, and
sulphuric acid we also obtained sharply marked lines, coincidences in
the different spectra being observed, and nearly every line mapped
found its analogue in the chloroform spectrum, and usually in that
of ethyl iodide. Benzene, again, gave a spectrum consisting prin-
cipally of lines, and these were coincident with some lines also te
be found iu chloroform. It seems, then, that the hydrogen, whicl
is common to all these different compounds, must be the cause ol
the linear spectrum. In what manner the hydrogen annihilates th»
waves of radiation at thtee particular points is a question which
is, at present at. all events, an open one, but, that the linear absorp-
tions, common to the hydrocarbons and to those bodies in which
hydrogen is in combination with other elements, such as oxygen
and nitrogen, are due to hydrogen, there can be no manner of doubt
The next point that required solution was the effect of the presence
of oxygen on the body under examination. ... It appears that in
every case where oxygen is present, otherwise than as a part of the
radical, it is attached to some hydrogen atom in such a way tha'
* Diil. Trans., part ii. (1885).
« PhiL Trans., iii, p. 887 (1881)
S P E — S P E
381
it obliterates the radiation between t^vo of the lines which arc due
to that hydrogen. ... If more than one hydroxyl group be pre-
sent, we doubt if any diiect effect is produced beyoud that produced
by one hydroxyl group, except a possible greater general absorption ;
a good example of this will be found in cinnamic alcohol and phenyl-
propyl alcohol, which give the same spectra as far as the special
absorptions are concerned. . . . Hitherto we have only taken into
account oxygen which is not contained in the radical ; wlien it is
so contained it appears to act differently, always supposing hydrogen
to be present as well. We need only reter to the spectrum of
aldehyde, which is inclined to be linear rather than banded, or
rather the bands are bounded by absolute lines,' and are more
defined than when oxygen is more loosely bonded."
"An inspection of our maps will show that the radical of a body is
represented by certain well-marked bands, some diffeiing in position
according as it is bonded with hydrogen, or a halogen, or with
carbon, oxygen, or nitrogeu. Tliere seem to be characteristic
bands, however, of any one series of radicals between 1000 and
about 1100, which would indicate what may be called the central
hydrocarbon group, to which other radicals may be bonded. The
clue to the composition of a body, however, would seem to lie
between X 700 and \ 1000. Certain radicals have a distinctive
absorption about X 700 together with others about \ 900, and if
the first be visible it almost follows tliat the distinctive mark of
the radical with which it is connected will be found. Thus in the
ethyl series we find an absorption at 740, and a characteristic band,
one edge of which is at 892 and the other at 920. If we find a
body containing the 740 absorption and a band with the most
refrangible edge commencing at 892, or with the least refrangible
edge terminating at 920, we may be pretty sure that we have an
ethyl radical present. So with any of the aromatic group ; the
crucial line is at 867. If that line be connected with a baud we
may feel certain that some derivative of benzine is present. The
benzyl group show this remarkably well, since we see that phenyl
is present, as is also methyl. It will be advantageous if the
spectra of ammonia, benzine, aniline, and dimethyl aniline be com-
pared, when the remarkable coincidences will at once become
apparent, as also the different weighting of the molecule. The
spectrum of nitro-benzine is also worth comparing with benzine
and nitric acid. ... In our own minds there lingers no "doubt as
to the easy detection of any radical which we have examined, . . .
and it seems highly probable by this delicate mode of analysis that
the hypothetical position of any hydrogen which is replaced may be
identified, a point which is of prime importance in organic chemistry.
The detection of the presence of chlorine or bromine or iodine in
a compound is at present undecided, and it may well be that we
may have to look lor its effects in a different part of the spectrum.
The only trace we can find at present is in ethyl bromide, in which
the radical band about 900 is curtailed in one wing. The difference
between amyl iodide and amyl bromide is not sufficiently marked
to be of any value."
The absorption spectra of the didymiam and cobalt salts aflTord
jnany striking examples of the complicated effects of solution and
combination in the spectra. It is impossible to explain these with-
out the help of illustrations, and we must refer the reader, therefore,
to the original papers.' *3omo very interesting changes have been
noticed in the position of absorption bands when certain colouring
matters are dissolved in different liquids. Characteristic absorp-
tion bands appear for each colouring matter in slightly different
positions according to the solvent. Hagenbach, Kraus, Kundt,'
and Claes' have studied the question. In a preliminary examina-
tion Professor Kundt had come to the conclusion that solvents
displaced absorption bands towards the red in the order of their
dispersive powers ; but the examination of a greater number of
cases has led him to recognize that no generally vali<:l rule can be
laid down. At the same time highly dispersive media, like bisul-
phide of carbon, always displace a band most towards the red end,
while with liquids of small dispersion, like water, alcohol, and ether,
the band always appears more r-— an''ible than with other solvents ;
and as a general rule the order of displacement is approximately
that of dispersive power.
Relatiom of the Spectra of Different Elements.
Various efforts have been made to connect together the
I spectra of different elements. In these attempts it is
generally assumed that certain lines in one spectrum corre-
spond to certain linos in another spectrum, and the ques-
tion is raised whotlicr the atom with the higher atomic
weight has its corresponding lines more or less refrangible.
Bunsen, "On the Inversion of the Bands in the Didymium Absorp-
tion Spectra," PhU. Mag., xxviii. p. 246 (1864), and xxxii. p. 177
(1866) ; Russell, " On the Absorption Spectra of Cobalt Salt^" Proc.
Hoy. Soc, xxxii. p. 258 (1881). » Wied. Ann., iv. p. 34 (1878).
Wied.Ann., iii. p. 389 (1878).
No definite judgment can as yet be given as to the success
of these efforts. Lecoq de Boisbaudran has led the way
in these speculations, and some of the similarities in
different spectra pointed out by him are certainly of value.
But whether his conclusion, that "the spectra of the alkalis
and alkaline earths when classed according to their refran-
gibilities are placed as their chemical properties in the
order of their atomic weight," will siand the test of further
research remains to be seen. Ciamician* has also pub-
lished a number of suggestive speculations on the question,'
and Hartley* has extended the comparison- to the ultra;
violet rays.
When metallic spectra are examined it is often found'
that some line appears to belong to more than one metaL
This is often due to a common impurity of the metals ;
but such impurities do not account for all coincidences.
The question has been raised whether these coincidences
do not point to a common constituent in the different
elements which show the same line. If this view is correct,
we should have to assume that the electric spark decom-
poses the metals, and that the spectrum we observe is
not the spectrum of the metal but that of its constituents.
Further investigation has shown, however, that in nearly
all cases the assumed coincidences were apparent only.
With higher resolving powers it was found that the lines
did not occupy exactly the same place. With the large
numbers of lines shown by the spectra of most of the
metals some very close coincidences must be expected by
the doctrine of chances. The few coincidences which our
most powerful spectroscopes have not been able to resolve
are in all probability accidental only. (a. s*.)
SPEECH-SOUNDS, the sounds actuaUy used for the
conveyance of thought by speech. See Phonetics.
1. Symholization. — It is necessary to have some system
of writing speech-sounds, in order to talk of them. The
system used in the present article is the palaeotype of
the present writer's Early English Pronunciation. All
letters or words thus written will be enclosed in (). The
following preliminary list of the ordinary sounds, with
examples, will render what follows intelligible. For an
alphabetical list, see art. 20.
English. — 1. hcet halt haa houghi bodt boot (biit beet baa bAAt
boot hunt). 2. knit net gnat knot nut nook (nit net niet n3t not
niik). 3. file foil fowl fuel (fa'il frtl fa'ul fiuu-il). 4. Aay (h«).
5. ^ea tec, ioe rfoe, cape ^ape (pii bii, too doo, keep gcep). 6. uhey
u-'ay, /eel t'cal, thin then, seal ical, rush rowjc, hue i/ou (wiiM wc«,
fiil viil, thin dheii, siil zii), rash ruuzh, jhiuu Juu). 7. ear ring,
gull httle (iij riq, gol lit'l). 8. sum chasw, siwi open, sung (sam
keez'm, ssn oop'n, san). 9. chest jest (tjest djest).
Foreign. — F French, o German, IT Italian. 10. bc'te F, Idcho
F, no IT, dd F, ffij F, veid F, vi)^ F, vait F, vont r, un F, sotn r,
soi F, lui F (bEF.t, laash, no, dyy, h, voef, ve.\, va.v, vo.\, oeA, siici,
sua. ly(). 11. dac/i teicA, taje siege, wahl, all c (,dakh tiiikjh,
jtaaghi', ziigjliE, bhaal). 12. png/ia IT, besojmo F (pu'lja, bjzonj).
2. Nature of Speech-Sounds. — Speech-sounds result from
shocks given to the air by the organs of speech, received
by the drumskin of the ear, and transmitted to the auditory
nerves in the cochlea. The apparatus is explained by Helm-
holtz, who deals with musical sounds. But speech is not
musical, and its sounds are much oblitei-atcd when rendered
musical." An original quality of tone generated by the
vocal chords is modified by the cavities through which it
passes, as explained by Helmholtz (Sensations of Tone) on
the principle of resonance. There are three ways in which
speech-sounds may be produced — (1) by the air in the
mouth, without additional breathing, by smacks and clicks ;
(2) by drawing in air, as orally in chirps, whistles, sobs,
gasps, and nasally in snuffles, snores ; (3) by expelling air,
as in the greater number of speech-sounds. The last ore
♦ irifM. Bcr., Ixxviii. (1878).
' Journal Chem. Soc, September 1883.
• Ellis, Speech in Song, sect i».
382
S P E E 0 H-S O U N D S
either flated, the vocal chords being wide apart and hence
not vibrating, but allowing breath to pass freely; or voiced,
the vocal chords being close together and vibrating fully,
or else whispered, the vocal chords approximating but not
touching, and their edges only vibrating. The last is only
a variation of the second and needs no further consideration.
Flated and voiced sounds are either fixed, the position of
the vocal organs remaining unchanged throughout, or
(hanging, the position constantly altering from one fixed
position to another, forming " glides."
3. Generic and Specific Speech-Sounds. — Fixed speech-
sounds, intended to be the same, vary from speaker to
speaker, and in the same speaker at different times. Those
who attempt to write sounds from dictation rapidly find
that they have to disregard these specific differences,
and simply discriminate genera. And much difference of
opinion has always existed as to the discrimination and
number of genera.
4. Vowels, that is, vocals, are so called because their
positions allow the voice-sounds to pass with least obstruc-
tion. The three genera (ii, aa, uu), which have always
been distinguished, differ greatly in the positions of the
tongue and lip, that is, in their mouth cavities, and hence
resonance. The usual method of describing speech-sounds
is by the shape of the cavity, which, however, could be
shown to be insufficient for many reasons. As differently
shaped cavities resound to a note of the same pitch,
Helmholtz proposed the last for discrimination. The
pitches of (ii, aa, nu) are widely different, (ii) having the
highest and (uu) the lowest ; but the extreme diversity of
results in attempting to assign the actual pitch of vowel
cavities shows that this will not suffice. Resonance cavities
do not create but merely modify original vowel qualities
of tone, and these last seem to depend upon the wiU of
the speaker, guided by his powers of appreciation and
imitation, both extremely variable, partly hereditary, partly
depending on conformation of brain, and partly acquired
during adolescence.
Melville Bell, Sweet, Storm, and Sievers, and all who
have latterly examined the subject distinguish . at least
two series of vowel genera, that is, two forms of each genus,
called " narrow " and " wide "; but they are far from being
agreed as to what the difference consists in and how it is
produced. Sweet differs from Bell, and Sievers does not
wholly agree with Sweet. All, however, call (ii, uu) narrow,
and (t, v) wide.
Besides these two series Bell introduced another distinc-
tion applying to both, termed " rounding," consisting in
a greater or less closure of the lips, slight for (aa), much
for (uu), and intermediate for (oo). But this character is
not scientifically precise, because all the vowels can be
produced with the mouth wide open (by means of a com-
pression of the arches of the palate), and still more easily
with the mouth at least as much closed as ordinarily for
(uu). Other phonetists wish to introduce distinctions
based upon the shape of the apertures between the lips.
There is also a feeling of intermediateness between vowel-
sounds. Thus (yy) is felt by many to lie " between " (ii,
uu), and (oece) between (oo, ee). But we also have other
intermediates which arise spontaneously when listening
to new languages and dialects. Thus in west Somerset
there is a vowel between (a, i), one between (y, »), and
another between (?, ce), and the positions for these vowels
have not been ascertained. These are only specimens of
numerous cases. Hence the positional discrimination
breaks down at present. Nevertheless it is very good so
far as it goes, but must not be pressed to extremes.
All the vowels may be also flated and whispered ; that
is, the position and dictating vowel-intention remaining,
the totally or partially open vocal chorda forbid voice and
produce sound more or less recognized as substitutes for
the true vowels. Write (ii) voiced, ('ii) whispered, ("ii)
flated. This distinction becomes of more importance for
consonants.
5. Glottids and Physems. — A glottid is the action of the
vocal chords in altering the form of the glottis or tongue-
shaped space between them. (1) The glottid is clear when
there is no attempt to utter the vowel until the chords are
brought together, yet the utterance takes place at that
instant. This may be written (,ii) initial. Similarly, a
vowel may end with a clear glottid (,ii,), no flatus escaping
after the vowel ceases. This clear glottid is usually inferred
and not written. (2) The glottid is gradual, written (j),
when flatus passes through the vowel position before the
chords are sufficiently approximated for voice, or after they
are separated, thus {\\\\) is really ("ii-f 'ii-t-ii-F 'ii-l- "ii).
This is an exceedingly common habit with some speakers.
(3) The check glottid (;), Arabic hamza », arises from keep-
ing the chords tightly closed so that they cannot vibrate,
and then releasing them with an explosion. It may be
final in reverted order in Arabic, and it is common as an
initial in German, as ;eine ;er;innerung, and is used as the
catch accent in Danish, as ■m.a;nd, a man, distinct from man
= F on. (i) An exaggeration of (;) gives Arabic (g4in)
c, the bleat, with a rattle in the cartilaginous glottis.
Physems are the bellows-actions of the lungs. (1) The
jerk (h) or sudden puff of either vocalized or flated brtath,
accompanying either clear or gradual glottid. The first,
with voice only, is the singer's and Bengali aspirate ; the
second, with flatus, is the Scotch or German aspirate. (2)
The wheeze (h), Arabic _, stated by Czermak to arise from
suddenly forcing breath through the cartilaginous glottis.
6. Yotvel Glides and Vanishes. — So far the positions of
the vowel above the larynx have been supposed to remain
unchanged. In this case many degrees of length may be
distinguished, as (a) very short, (a) short, (i) medium,
(aa) long, (ah) drawled, (aaa) extravagantly prolonged
If the vowel sign consists of two parts, as (ah), only the?
first is marked doubled or tripled for these lengths, as
(ah, aah), &c. In English it is felt very difficult to pre-
serve the positions for long (ee, aa, oo), and these vo'vels
gravitate to, without by any means reaching, (i, o, u). The
first and last may be written (e«'j, oo'u'), implying what
are termed vanishes or gliding alterations of sound, accom-
panied by alterations of position as the vowel ceases. This
change is generally unintended and mostly used uncon-
sciously.
7. Diphthongs. — But there are conscious changes to qu'te
different positions. The first and last vowels are thtn
taken as fixed, one of them having the chief stress, and
there is a vowel glide between them. These form diph-
thongs ; the stress and glide being the chief characteristics
are marked by ('), and the two elements are juxtaposcl.
The glide is generally short and close in English, longer
in German, still longer and looser, or "slurred," in French
and Italian. There are many typical classes.- i. With
weak final (i), unanalysed (a'i), analysed (ii, &.i, o't, a'i,
ei, &i, e'j, se't), &.C., all common, ii. With weak final (u),'
unanalysed (a'u), analysed (du, i,u, s'u, a'w, eu, 6u, e'u,
x'u), &c., all very common, iii. Weak final (y), theoretic
German eu (6y, &y), Devonshire o?c (ao'yi^)- iv. Weak
initial (i) or (i), used for (j) in Italy, France, Wales, <fec.
V. Weak initial (y) in Fr. vi. Weak initial (u) or (u), used
for (w) in Italy, Spain, France, Wales, &c. vii. Murmur
diphthongs ending in weak (■b), common in English, but
generally with the option of trilling an (r) after it, and
hence written (j), as in ear, air, oar, lord, poor, pure, pyre,
power (iii, ee.T, ooj, lAAjd, puuJ, p\uui, pa'u, pa'uj); the r is
always trilled in Scotland, viii. The vanish diphthongs
SPEECH SOUNDS
383
'^ee'j, oo'w), just considered, ix. Inchoant diphthongs, first
grave, where the speaker begins too low and corrects him-
self, as (ii, «u), and secondly acutt, where he begins with
the mouth too open and corrects himself as he proceeds,
as (a'o) ; both are common in English dialects.
8. Glides from arid to Mutes, Post- Aspirates, SonarUs. —
The essence of the dijjhthongal character was the glide,
which was independent jf the sounds of the iiret and last
elements. These might bo absolutely mute, a3'in (piip,
tAAt, kook) peep, taught, coke, in which {p, t, k) are mere
positions without sounds. But the results are quite dif-
ferent from (ii, a A, oo), because while the consonant positions
are- opened out the vowel is at the same time sounded.
Similarly in the reverse order, when final. 'But here the
enclosure of the breath is felt to be uncomfortable, and, if
there is no vowel to fall upon, the mouth is opened and a
p«ff of flatus ('), called the "recoil," is heard in England,
as (piip'') peep ! Using then ( -f ) for the gliding sounds, we
have (p + ii -H p -f ') ; but there is no recoil in (p -^ ii -I- p + 1
-)-q) or (p -(- ii -f- p b -(- oo'i* !) peeping, peep-bo! Various
nations have very different habits in this respect. In
Indian languages (p') would be felt as a final post-aspiratad
mute. So initially in Germany, the (p) position is usually
released, not on a vowel with a clear glottid, as in England
and Italy, but on a vowel with a gradual glottid, as (piii),
and hence flatus is heard before the vowel. When this is
exaggerated, as (pihii) or (pHfhii), we have the true Indian
post-aspirated mute.
But an attempt to utter the vowel through a mute
position may be made before the position is quite opened
put, or the vowel may be continued jinto it after it has
been assumed. This gives the English, Italian, and Indian
" sonant," as in (b«b) babe. The German is not quite the
same. Here the glides are (b + ee + h), with possibly a
voiced recoil (b -t- e« -f- b -t- '), where (') represents the most
amorphoua voice. This voiced recoil is strong in French,
but seldom heard in English, except in declamation, is
regular in modern Indian, and impossible to a German,
who says at most (beebp') or(bfffp') ; also Indians and Irish
sometimes jerk out their vowel after sonants, as (bHeebn'),
producing the sonant post-aspirates. The ancient Indian
never ended words in the pause with sonants, post-aspirated
mutes, or post-aspirated sonants, but only with simple mutes,
and avoided the recoil.
9. Glides to and from Hisses, Buzzes. — m the case of a
hiss, flatus passes through the consonant position and is
continued part of the time during which the vowel position
is assumed, but towards the end of that time voice is put
oh. Hence in (s + ii) see, the glide ( -f ) is partly flated
and partly voiced, so that (s) acts in much the same way
as a gradual glottid ; similarly when final, as (s + ii -t- s)
cease, where' the hiss replaces the reooiL But the propor-
tion of voice and flatus in the glide may vary. The voice
may be put on during, the hiss, and then the change takes
place in the hiss position. The result, far less clear than
a vowel, is a hiss (s), followed without a positional glide
by the buzz (z), then an entirely vocal glide, the vowel,
and a vocal glide, a buzz, and a hissj as (sziizs) seize, sees.
The initial (sz) is regular in Germany, where no vowel
precedes, as sie sehen (szii z«e'n), they or you see ; and the
reverse (zs) is regularly in English seize (siizs) in the pause,
and similarly (haavf, briidhth, ruuzhsh, djadjshj) halve,
breathe, rouge, judge. In the south-west of England Saxon
words beginning with «,/ are pronounced with (z, v) initial,
which passes through (sz-, fv-) to (s, f).
10. Glides to and from. Flaps. — Flaps are consonants
where there is a slack organ which flaps with the breath
as it passes. The r is very varied, but properly voiced,
though the flated form occurs. The flap may be made (IV
with the lips, as (brh), used in Germany to stop horses ; (2)
with the tip of the direct tongue, (r, ,r), used in Italy; with
the tip of the reverted tongue, (r), used in the south of Eng-
land and in modem (not ancient) Indian, where it is called
" cerebral " ; (3) with the uvula, (r), common in France and
north Germany, labialized {rw) in Northumberland, and
harsher in Greek and Aiabic ; (4) with the glottis, (i),
usual in Denmark ; and so on. In the educated south of
England the tongue is often raised to the (r) position, but
not allowed to flap, and is treated as a buzz (r^).
The above form the central flaps ; if the point of the
tongue is fixed and the voice escapes by the side it causes
minute lateral flaps of the tongue. The place of the point
of the tongue discriminates the various sounds which diflFer
but slightly — ( 1), advanced tongue at gums. Continental ;
(1), coronal, tongue near the crown of the palate, English ;
(l), reverted, in connexion with (n) in south-west England.
Both flaps, especially the latter, are extremely vocal, and
the glides from and to them are like those from and to
vowels, while they glide readily to and from mutes, sonants,
hisses, and buzzes.
11. Glides to and from Hums, Orinasals. — For (p, t, k)
both nasal or oral passages are cut off, the former by press-
ing the uvula against the back of the pharynx. Let this
pressure be relaxed so that the nasal passage is opened, the
oral passage remaining closed. The voice passes through
the nose, forming the three hums (m, n, q). The glide from
these to ordinary vowels is the same as from (b, d, g), and
the peculiarity consists in the preceding hum and the closing
of the nasal passage as the vowel position is assumed. If
the nasal passage is left open at all the vowel is " nasalized,"
and as it resounds partly in the nose and partly in the
mouth it becomes an " orinasal." Four principal orinasals
exist in French, as an, on, un, vin (a a, oa, oba, vca) ; there
are more in Portuguese, and many others in the modern
Indian languages. The oral vowel is altered in character
by nasalization, and it is not possible to assign the oral to
the orinasal form precisely. If the oral passage is only
slightly open, a " nasalized tone " is produced, as in Gaelic,
some south German, and American dialects, written as (a,).
The hum also may be prolonged, and ('mpaa, 'mbaa, 'ntaa,
'ndaa, 'qkaa, 'qgaa) result. These forms exist in South
African languages.
The final hum may be continued like a vowel. If the
nose entrance is closed and the voice continued (Um, \xm,
koom) become (limb, Isinb, koomb), which, as the ordinary
spelbng shows, were probably once pronounced. But not
only the nasality, the voice itself may be cut off, and then
we have the mere stops (p, t, k), thus (It'mp, lint, liqk),
which in the pause have the recoil. Some phonetists
consider (m, n, q) to become flated in this case; as (mh,
nh, qh). This is no more necessary than to suppose a
vowel to be flated before a mute, so that (Isep, mast, haek)
lap, mat, hack should be (l"ajp, m"8et, h"a!k), a usage
unknown.
12. Palalattzation and Labialization. — When a conso-
nant precedes a diphthong of cla-sses iv, v, vi, in art. 7 begin-
ning with weak (i, y, u), there is a tendency to take these
vowels as nearly as possible simultaneously with the con-
sonant, expressed by writing (j, jcj, w) after the consonant.
To say (tj) at loast.two-thirds Uie length of the tongue from
the tip backwards must lie against the palate, for (kj) two-
thirds from the root forwards. The first' occurs in Hun-
garian ; the second was very common among older speakers
of English before (;u), as (kjcend'l). Botli (tj, kj) are apt to
develop into (tj) ; compare nature, kirk; say (nretjui, Igaajkj),
with colloquial modern (nfirtjB, tjaotj). Similarly the voiced
sounda (dj, gj) become (dj), compare W^, rid;je. These (tj,
dj) are consonantal diphthongs = (tjshj, djzhj), as in f/icst,
yost, and are distinct from the Indian sounds (kj, gj) ^. ff.
which are true mutes, produced by bringing the tongue f ronv
384
SPEECH SOUNDS
the position for (j) tight up against the extreme back of the
hard palate so as to produce a complete stop. The most
important of the palatalized letters are (Ij, nj), the Italian
gli,gn in miglior, ognor (milju'r, onjO'r), where the palatal-
ization brings the Italian advanced (,1, ^n) to the position of
the English (1, n). The (Ij) has degenerated to (i) or (j) in
France during the I9th century. It exists in Spanish II,
Portuguese Ih. The (nj) exists as gn in French, « in
Spanish, and nh in Portuguese.
Parallel to the palatal are the labial forms, of which
English queen, guano (kwiin, givaa^'no) are examples. They
seem to exist in abundance in French, as in toi, doigt (,twa,
^Aw&). The palato-labial form (it'j), as iajuin (zhtojei), is
much disputed, and a diphthong (zhyeA) is usually assumed.
13. Syllables. — A group of speech-sounds increasing in
volume from a mute, sonant, hiss, buzz, or flap to a full
vowel and decreasing again to one of the former constitutes
the ideal-syllable (o-vAAa/J^, collection). The initial and
final parts may sink to clear glottids, and the middle part
to a simple vowel. The type of a syllable is then < >,
crescendo followed by diminuendo, as in (,aa, laal, tiaait',
stiaalts), theoretical, and (dpdjd, streqkth, ttoelfths), actual
syllables. The hisses or recoil before or after a stop are
not felt as belonging to fresh syllables, because they have
no vowel, which is the soul of the syllable. Monosyllables
present no difficulty, but the division of syllables in poly-
syllables is not easy to understand. In (pii -1- p -1- j'q) the
middle ■ (p) ends one set of glides and begins another.
One syllable ends and the other begins with the assump-
tion of the (p) position which is absolutely mute, so that the
end of the first and the beginning of the second syllable are
simultaneous, as the end of one hour and the beginning of
the next. Inthiscase(p)issaid to be "medial." But there
may be and oiten is a sensible pause between the two syl-
kbles, and then (p) is said to be " double," as (pii -F pp -1- iq,
piippiq), in which case no recoil can be used, as (piip'pi'q).
In " syllabizing," a totally artificial process, doubling is
necessary, and very frequently the recoil is used, but it
never is in speech. In (sii + & + iq) ceasing, there is a sens-
ible hiss between the glides which end the first syllable
and those which begin the second, and the syllable divides
during that hiss. If we wished to produce the eflfect of
doubling, we must break the hiss into two either by a
silence or a diminution of force, as (missent). The same
remarks hold for sonants, buzzes, and flaps, where we have
a sensible voice sound during which the syllable divides.
Syllables may even divide during a vowel, as French pay en,
fayence, vaillant (paieA, faiaAS, vaiaA), where the syllable
divides during (I), which may even be lengthened to show
the two syllables ; but, if the syllables have to be sung to
notes with a pause between them, we must double the (i),
thus (pal leA, fai laAs), as either (pai ca, fai aAs) or (pa leA,
fa laAs) would be unintelligible. The sensation of separate
syllables is always easy. It is the. essence of versification,
the oldest form of literature.
14. Accent and Emphasis. — Generally several syllables
form a single word, and in many languages — by no means
all languages — one syllable in a word is rendered conspicu-
ous. Several plans have been adopted for this purpose.
(1) Quantity or length of syllables, which seems to be all
that is known to modern Indians, Arabs, and Persians.
(2) Heightened or lowered or descending gliding pitch {con
portamento) of one syllable, which were the acute, grave,
and circumflexed syllables of Sanskrit, Latin, and Greek,
the position of these syllables in a word there depending
partly on the quantity of the syllables and partly on sense ;
this pitch difference remains in a more complicated form
in Norwegian and Swedish. (3) Greater force given to one
syllable ; this is the English, German, and Italian " stress,"
and from the end of the 3d century A.D., when the feeling
for quantity faded, was used instead of high pitch in Latis
and Greek. The modern Italian and modern Greek as a
general rule preserve the memory of the syllable which
had the high pitch by giving it greater force, .with but
few exceptions, as Italian cade're ri'dere, to fall, to laugh.
(4) By a peculiar pronunciation, as the "catch"of the Danes.
In French none of these methods seem to be consciously
adopted. Some declare that the last syllable (not counting
mute e) always has the stress, others that it never has the
stress ; others, again, consider the stress to be intentionally
even, and when altered to depend mainly on grammatical
construction, whUe there is certainly a raised pitch, fre-
quently towards the close of a phrase or sentence, but
sometimes on a penultimate syllable. Turks and Japanese
have also even stress. All these modes of rendering a
syllable conspicuous are apt to be called "accent," the
Latin translation of irpo<ru>8ia, the song added to the word,
which properly applied to class (2) only. Where pitch
accent prevailed there may have been also stress, but that
stress was probably as little subject to strict rule as altera-
tion of pitch is in English speech, where it undoubtedly
exists, without properly afiecting signification. Hence we
may say roughly that in Latin and Greek pitch was fixed
and stress free, but in English and German stress is fixed
and pitch free.
What accent is to a word, emphasis is to a sentence.
But there is this difierence. Accent always falls on a fixed
syllable of a word. Emphasis varies with the word to be
made conspicuous. Emphasis does not consist merely in
making the stressed syllable of a word louder. It depends
upon a number of most subtle varieties of qualities of tone,
length, and pitdi of utterance, — in short, of those tricks and
wiles of speech which form the stock-in-trade of actors
and orators. The same words will mean totally different
things according to the place and nature .of the- emphasis
used. Difi"erent nations emphasize differently. To an
Englishman French emphasis is apt to seem placed on
the wrong word.
15. Intonation. — Although musical accent does not exist
in English, almost every county has its peculiar sing-song
mode of utterance. ' And even among educated men the
sing-song may frequently be heard in pubKc speaking, or in
declaiming poetry, or recitation, or reading aloud generally.
For these things no invariable rule exists. But in England
questions require the pitch of the voice to be raised, and
affirmations to be lowered, towards the end of a clause.
In Scotland the pitch is raised in both cases, so that to
an Englishman a Scotchman seems to be always asking
questions.
16. Analysis of Speech- Sounds. — What is heara are
sentences consisting of various fixed sounds cemented by
gliding sounds, which act one on the other, and thus
become greatly modified. To construct an alphabet it is
necessary from this mass to separate the fixed elements
and the changing glides, to crystallize them into sjrmbols,
and finally to make the value of those symbols known to
the reader. The last cannot be done satisfactorily except
by viva voce instruction, but much can be accomplished
by a review of the relations of sounds, made dependent on
the relations of the motions of the organs of speech by
which they are produced. There is a preliminary difiiculty
in defining an element. Perhaps position, flatus, whisper,
and voice are the only ultimate elements. But it is usual
to be very lax. Thus (p,'t, k) have position only, (f, s,
sh, kh) position and flatus, (i, a, u, w, z, zh, gh) position
and voice. The analysis is therefore only into "proximate"
and not " ultimate " elements. Again, when a new mass
of sound is presented to the ear, a long time passes before
the ear' becomes sufficiently accustomed to the sound to
distinguish the proximate elements and their combinations,
S P E E C H-S O U N D S
385
and tlierefore before the voice can imitate them at all
satisfactorily. Hence the best phonetists differ. It may
certainly be considered impossible from a knowledge of a
few languages to onstruct an alphabet which will serve
for all. Kevertheless a consideration of some partial
whemes is of great value as a stepping-stone. TVe give
Mr MelviUe Bell's vowel system and Mr Henry Sweet's
alteration of Mr M. Bell's consonant system, both sup-
posed to be universal, but neither properly appreciating
Asiatic, African, and American -Indian' languages and
habits of speech. After these follow.s a modification of a
confessedly partial system by the present wTiter, appljing
chiefly to English, German, Italian, Spanish, and French,
with a few partly theoretical sounds, introduced to show
connexions. In all these the sounds will be expressed by
palaeotype symbols without any explanation in the tables
themselves, because that is furnished at better length than
would there be possible in the alphabetical list of art. 20.
17. Mr .Vclville Bell's" Visible Speech" ro«'t7s.— These are arranged
primarily according to the height of the tongue, which is supposed to
be divided into "back " and "front " or central part, beyond which
ties the " point." The heights refer first to the " back " and lastly
to the "front," and between them lie the "mixed," for which both
back and front are more raised than the "front," ao that there is
generally a hoUow between them. Each set is then divided into
"narrow" and "wide," the precise meaning of which, as stated in
art. 4, is not settled. Finally come the "rounded" vowels, there
being three degrees of rounding, — one for "high," one for "mid,"
and one for "low" tongue. For convenience here the back, the
mixed, and the front are formed into separate groups, and all the
vowel signs are numbered, being -referred to in the following lists
by V and the number, thus V4 is (k), which in ILr Bell's nomencla-
ture would be called "high-back wide-round." The letters )i, Jc,
nr, wr at the heads of columns mean " narrow, wide, narrow-round,
'wide-round."
Mr. Melville Bell' $ "Visible Speech" Vowel Table.
Tongue
Height.
Tongue Back. || • Mixed.
Tongue Front.
n.
VI.
nr.
wr. 1 n. I ty. nr.
wr.
16tih
20 oh
24 oh
n.
w.
nr.
27l
31a
35 ah
wr.
28y
32 CE
368eh
High..
Mid ..
Low ..
la
6a
9<B
2b
6a
10 a
3u
7o
11 A
4u 'l3v 14 V 15 D
8 0 17 9 ISah 19 oh
12 a |2l 3h 22 30 23 ah
25 1
29 e
33 E
26 «
30 e
34 R
These jjositions being insufficient, although supposed to be pre-
cisely known, may be "modified" by raising the tongue more (a')
or lowering it more (aj, or bringing it nearer the teeth (,a) or nearer
the throat (a,). And, even this not sufficing, Mr Sweet has contrived
a number of new modifiers, here passed over. Am'-with all this
none of the sounds can be produced purely througn any position
without an effort of will dependent on a conception of the sound.
The characteristic of the vowel notation contrived by Mr BeU is
that each sign shows at once the position of the sound in tl^e Table.
18. Mr. Henry Sweet's " Sov,nd Natation" Consonant Table.
Tongue Tongue
Back. Front-
Tongue Point L, J
Point- Teeth. "'^'''^■
/.
Blade
Point-
Lips.
h. i.
Lip 1 Lip
Back. Teeth,
Voiceless Consonants.
1. Open ..
2. Divided
8. Shut ..
4. Nasal..
6. Open --
a. Divided
7. Shut .-
8- Nasal , .
L
kh
Jh
r.h
th
a
sh
ph
wh
m
l;h
Ih
,lh
ph,
k
k;
t
,t
P
qh
qjh
nh
.nh
mh
Voiced Consonants.
r
r.
dh
z
?-h
bh
w
U
1
,1
..
bh.
R
Si
d
>d
,.
..
b
q
qj
n
fi
••
m
These signs will be referred to as S 8 e, or Sweet, line 8, col e,
giving (n). The consonants are modified in a similar manner to
the vowela. Columns a, b, c indicate straits or contacts between
the palate and the parts of the tongue named. By the "blade " is
meant the part of the tongue between the "front" and the "point."
Mr Sweet's substitutes for glottiJs and physems, and his and Mr
Bell's notation of glides are omitted for brevity. Their notation
throughout is entirely diffeient from that here used.
19. -A- J. Ellis's partial schemes, modified from his Speech in Song.
Voml THr/rnm.
11
ij'o
2i
16 y
14 ■
3e
17 »
13 0
40
ISOB
12 0
6 K
19 n
U a
Ase
20 a
10 a
7 ah
213
»a
-8 = 22»
The meaning of this arrangement is that, If we pronounce the
vowels in the order of the numbers, they will form a sufficiently
unbroken series of qualities of tone, or, if each line be so pronouni'cd
leading to 8 = 22 a, three series of the same kind are produced, and
also that the speaker feels that the vowels in the middle line lie
" between " the vowels in the first and third lines between which
they are written. These intermediate characters refer only to
3ualitie3 of tone and not to the vowel positions, as they apparently
id in the older "vowel triangles" from which the trigram ia
adapted. The arrangement of Mr Bell is excellent for showing the
relations of the positions, but gives no more clue to the relations of
sound than the indispensable ratios 1 : 2, 2 : 3, 3 : 4, 4 : 6, 6 : 6 give
to the musical sensations of the intervals known as the octa\e,
fifth, fourth, major third, and minor third. Hence the advantage
of this additional arrangement. It will be referred to as T6, that
is, trigram, vowel 6, or (se).
Consmiant Table.
1| 2 1 3
4|5|6 |7| 8 |9| 10 ll|12|
13
L
11.
Ill- - 1 rv
Tongue Back
and
Tongue Front
and
Tongue Point
Lips
s
tacts or
1
' ., .
P
fl 1
Straits V
2„- -S
j:!
-2? 2 '.0-2 S
3
A
U
formed
rt
So. M .
f !i
§ ,li S'l
■Si
JS
SA 1
n
^.
■A
by. ;
3
>
1^
*3 rt
a
■£
1^
%
%
c9
1
1 II
5
ORAL.
1
1
Contacts.
1
1
Mute ..
K
kw k
S'
kl
ti
T
t
t
P
^
)
>
li
Sonant ..
0
g» g
g.I
d,i
D
dr.
,d
B
Straits.
1
Fixfd.
1
tii
Flated ..
kuihkh
kih
Jh
si
3h
sht
s ,8 th, th
f
ph
wh
iv
Voiced . .
Flaps.
Central.
giiih gh r.
gjh
J
^
zhB.
ihj
z ,z dh, dh
V
bh
w
V
Flated ..
krhrh
,,
,,
rh
rh
prh
brh
vi
Voiced -.
no
grhr
..
R
r
r
K
Lateral.
1
vii
Flated ..
I.h
IhlSh
Ih
vm
Voiced..
-. 'Ij
L
1 IS
,1
-
—
NASAL.
is
Flated . .
.. qh
nh
,nh
mh
X
Voieed..
■• q
qJ
qj ij
S
n
."
m
Tl^is table will be referred to as C iv 7, or consonant table, class
iv, column 7 = (zh). The glottids and physems are sufficiently
explained in art. 6, and are here omitted.
20. Alphabetical List and Explanation of the Palaeotype Symbols. —
Small letters, italics, small capitals, and the forms resulting from
turning them must be sought under the large capital of the same
class, where the order of all the letters is specifiea. Explanations
are greatly condensed and often confined to references to the preced-
ing articles and tables, or to an example. The notation for differ-
ences of length is explained in art. 6.
Abbreviations.
AB. Arabic-
B. Melville BeU.
C. A. 'J. Ellis's consonant
table (art. 19).
DN Danish. •
E. A- J- Ellis.
E. English.
F. Frcnch-
o. German.
IT. Italian. ,
LLB. Prince Louis - Lucien
Bonaparte.
L3. Lowlana Scotch.
MO. Modern Greek,
occ. occasionally.
A. (a all a'i a'u aA a'y, a', a ah, a, v).
(a) V 6, T8 = T 22, short o raann, long E father, art. 6. •
(ah) V 18, T7, occ. E pass, path,
(a'i) art. 7 i, unanalysed diphthong, E eye, o ei.
(a'u) art. 7 ii, unanalysed diphthong, E ho'iii, o bou.
(aA) art. 11, P vent, a conventional form,
(a'y) art. 7 iii, unanalysed o fi-cudc, often (o't).
■(a') or (a) with higher tongue, it and r short a, nearly = (oh).
VIO, T9. B. hears'it in E frtthci-, crms, olm,i ; KL dow. not
8w. and E. hear it in L3 father, E. and LLB. in r dioblo.
E- in F pdto, pas.
V23. B. says (a) with advanced tongue = (,a), (a) on U>«
road to (a). , . , , , .
Vll. TIO, short open in E authority, long clojod B auJ,
almost peculiarly e - vvtt
Abbreviations.
PL.
Polish.
PR.
PortuOTicse.
Sweets ' consonants
S.
(art. IS).
SN.
Sanskrit.
SP.
Spanish.
St.
Storm.
Sv.
Sievers.
Sw.
Sweet.
SWD
Swedish.
T.
A. J. Ellis's vowel
trigram (art. 19).
V
Bell's visible speech
vowels (art, 17).
(o)
(ah)
(A)
386
!5 P E E C H-S O U N D S
(b) V 2, T 19. B. hears it in E dungeon, motion, conscious, aban-
don, honoiir, belloics. K hears it in these syllables and in
Eparentol, capable, capacious, China, and o gab«. Sw.
and Sv. hear (a) in all these cases.
M. (a5, seh).
V 34, T 6, E gnat, almost pccnliarly E,
V 36. B. hears it as a Cockney substitute for ou, ow in out,
uoto, which E., a born Londoner, does not know. St. finds
it to be " open " G o, see (y).
(b bh brb, bj, bh,, b).
&1 g, Cii 13, art. 8, E 6ee, eJi.
S 5y, Civ 12, o w, lips flat, not touching teeth, see (ph).
(seh)
B,
(b)
(bh) „ . .
(brh) C vi 13, used by Germans to stop horses, as ivo ! is in England
(bi) C ii 12, sonant of (p,), which see, theoretical,
(bhj) 8 6(7, sonant of (ph,), which see, theoreticah
(b) Cii 11, sonant of (p), which see, theoretical.
C. (o oh, o'i, 9 5h, f fh).
(d) V12, Til, E knot, almost peculiarly E, replaced on the
Continent by (o, oh, oh), which see.
(oh) V24. B. calls it an advanced (o), that is (,o), and 'hears it
as regular short Irish-English o. Cockney ask, American
Chicago. Sw. hears it ia swd son. Sv. gives no example.
E. does not know it.
(o'i) art. 7 i, diphthong E foil, by some taken as (A'i).
(9) reverted (s), the under jart of the point of the tongue against
the palate. St.' hears it in East Norwegian borse and
also ia swd.
(jh) reverted (sh), SN. '^, the under part of the point of the
tongue against the palate, but lower than for (5) and
pointing further back, see (tj).
(f) buzz of (1;), theoreticaL
(fh) reverted (zh), buzz of (^h), see (Dj).
D. (d dj dh dj, ,d, dh,, d, d d; Dh, "b lij).
(d) S 7 c, C ii 8, e rfoe, sonant of (t), which see.
(dj) art. 12, E Jutijiag, consonantal diphthong = (djzhj), usually
assumed as (dzh), and also as sN ^, for which see (gj),
and AE •-, which Lepsius thinks was also once (gj).
(dh) S 5 (Z, C iv 10, E <Aen, mg 5, ar i, buzz of (th), see (dh,).
(dj) Cii 6, Hungarian gyonf/y, pearl, art. 12.
( ,d) S 7 d, C ii 9, F rfoux, tip of tongue against gums, used in some
midland and northern E dialects before r, -er.
(dh,) Civ 10, SP lid, lisped (z), retracted (dh). ,
(d) XR ^ {daad], described by Lepsius as close emphatic (.»!'),
■ see (s, t, z) and especially (k).
(d) Cii 7, reverted or cerebral SN ■5, common in south-west Eng-
land, in connexion with (k), which see, by some taken to
be retracted (d,), parent of E (d).
(DJ) a reverted consonantal diphthong = (D-^fh), heard in Wilt-
shire (aRDj) ridge.
(Dh) reverted (dh), under part of point of tongue against teeth,
theoretical.
(i) Irish Gaelic rfair, an oak, " broad " post-aspirated sonant.
The place of tip of tongue unimportant, but generally
taken as dental or interdental. Essential points, tongue
laterally expanded and slack, back raised, leaving a hollow
"front." Followed by a slow voice glide, resembling a
preponderating E (sh) mixed with (gh). This glide, occur-
ring between a sonant and a vowel, is closer at first than
for an ordinary buzz and then more open. Constantly used
for (dh) by Irish speakers of e. [Lecky, MS. communi-
cation.] ,
(Bj) Irish Gaelic rfeas, palatalized or slender (tf) ; glide from it
like preponderating (j) mixed with (z). [Lecky, MS.
communication. ]
E. (e eA, e, e, 9 ah, s\ » eh, 9j, a, a'o).
(e) V 30, T 4, E net, sp e, medial between F and it close and
open (c, e), often (e) in dialectal E. B- hears it only long
in E thCTe. Sw. gives F p^re, which E. hears with (ee).
Sv. gives E men, G manner, ahre, DN tr«. LLB. hears it
always and only in unacceuted it syllables.
(eA) art. 11, orinasal, r vin, conventional symbol.
(e) V 29, T 3, F d^, G e7»re. B. says it is found in 'E always and
only in the vanish (ec'j), art. 6 ; but K hears the vanish
from received speakers only in the pause, otherwise he fre-
quently hears (ee) without vanish. Sw., Sv., and St. do
not admit {ee) in E without vanish.
(e) V33, T5. B. considers it the regular e sound in net, see (e).
E hears it long in o sprdche, F bHe, it open e. Sw. hears
it in E air, Ls men, F vin (vea). Sv. also in DN Id'ra.
(s) V17,T20. E. hears it in his E nut, which B. wrote (natl liom
1 EnglUche Philologie : I. Die leUnde Sprache, p. 42.
' E.'8 dictation ; many think (3,3) are used respectively in'S
accented and unaccented syllables where E. hears (a, »),
and he is very familiar with (a) in dialects. Sv. gives
"stage g" gabc, dn normal gave, swd gosse.
(ah) V 21. Sw. gives E bird, where E hears (a). B. heard it only
in Somerset sir aud Cockney penny ; the whole eflFect of
the first appears to E. due to Somerset (k), the second he
does not know.
(3^) intermediate between (a) and (t), written « in Mr Elworthy'a
West-Somerset grammar, a very common and characteristio-
sound in the dialect, but difficult and strange beyond it. '
(9) V 31, T 17, F few, feu. B. hears it in F dfl, bi2t and in i-S,,'
E. hears it long in Q ho7(le. Sv. says the Q sound is
(cEce), not (3P), see (y).
(sh) V 35. B. hears it long in F pc!(r, o schone, &c., short in V
jeiine, G stocke. E. hears (as) in schone and (oe) in the rest
See Sv. in (y).
(Sj) intermediate between (a) and (oe), a common west Somerset
sound ; possibly Sv.'s "open G ii." See under (y).
(a) V5, T21. B. hears it in E done, yo!ing, up, tii-opence, whew
it sounds dialectal to E. , Avho hears (a), which see.
(a'o) art. 7 vs., acute inchoant diphthong.
F. (f, J).
(f) S 1 !, C iii 11, E/eel, lower lip against upper teeth.
(j) a turned f, a modifier, laxly used ; see mute and sonant (kj, gj),
lateral flap (Ij), nasals (nj, dj) and consonant diphthongs
(t; dj, TJ DJ).
G. (g gj gh gj gjh grh gia gwh, G Gh).
(g) S 7 a, C ii 3, art. 8, E {rape, egg.
(gj) S 7 J, C ii 5, SN ■g, sonant of (kj), which see, and also (dj).
(gh) S 5 a, C iv 3, mid G ta^e, buzz of (kh), which see, and als«
(gjh, g!«h).
(SJ) C ii 4, IT la gAianda, sonant of (kj), which see, formerly
common in e before (a, k), as gumi, garrison, now generally
preserved in girl, even in the vulgar form (gjsal).
(gjh) C iv 4, mid G sie^re, buzz of (kjh), which see, confused by
Germans themselves with (j), palatalized (gh).
(grh) C vi 3, AR c (grhain), or (gh) with the uvula slightly trilled,
frequent Dutch g, Mo 7 before (a, o, u) in a mild form ;
Lepsius takes the ar solind to be (oh), which see.
(gu!) art. 12, C ii 2, E guano, sonant of (kto), which see ; the posi-
tions for (g) and (w) are assumed at the same time.
igioh) C iv 2, G axige, fuge, sonant of (kzfh), which see.; labialized
(gh) after (u).
(a) C-ii 1, sonant of (k), which see, theoretical.
(oh) buzz of (g), see above under (grh).
H. (h 'h 'h |h, k, H, Hjli).
(h) when nd letter, and, at most, some sign precedes, used for'
the unanalysed phyoem, art. 6 ; after a letter very laxly
used as a modifier of vowels (ah oh), and consonantal hisses
or buzzes (th dh sh zh kh gh), A.c.
('h) simple flatus, the (h) omitted when another letter precedes,
as in the recoil (haep') hap, art. 8.
Ch) the crudest voice producible, opposed to ( Ti), the (h) omitteJ
in the voiced recoil .(ded') dead, art. 8, and in ('1, 'm, 'n, 'r)
syllabic.
(Jh) smack or click, art. 2, (1), the (h) is omitted after consonants
showing theclicking parts, as (kI, tjt, tjSJ, ^tj, Tj) guttural,
palatal, unilateral, dental, and reverted click, see the turned
numerals {s f I 9 S), which are used for brevity.
(A) art. 5, physem (2), the ar -. (Aaa), or " wheeze."
(h) art. 5, physem (1), the "jerk" or unflated aspirate, used as
post-aspirate after Indian sonants, as sN H (bHs).
(Hjh) jerked flatus with gradual glottid, art 5, physem (1), ths
usual aspirate of Scotland and Germany, and the Indian
post-aspirate after mutes, thus SN ^ ^ IS are (kHjh, .tHili,
(pHjh), usually written kh, th, ph, but not to be confused
with the palaeotype (kh, th, ph).
I. (i If. iii, i ii, i).
(i) V 25, T 1, short F {i\ (very difi'erent from E ftll), long E feel '
(ia) art. 7 iv, typical initial weak (i) diphthong, often confus^
with (Ja).
(iij) art 7 vii, typical murmur diphthong with following pet-
missive trill.
(i) V 26, T 2, E knit, almost peculiarly E and Icelandic, brft
often heard in Germany ; long E (ii) is often replaced by
(,ii), especially before and after (r) and in singing.
(ii) art. 7 ix, typical grave inchoant diphthong.
(i) V 27. B. hears it in o iiber, gliick ; Sw. ij f lane, where B,
hears (y) ; K inclines to (l) in G, but Sv. thinks difle».
ently, see (y).
S P E E C H-S 0 U N D S
387
(kh)
(kj)
(kjh)
J.'(j:jj-jA)-
(j) a modifier, symbol of palatalization, art. 12, bat this siniul-
tanoous palatal action is constantly confused with success-
ive (j, i).
Cj) art. 7 viii, used to express the vanish of {ee, e) towards (i),
eiuling in an approach to the consonant (J), thus (ec'j, e'j).
0) or (j) without a uot, marks a scmipalatalizatiou, the tongue
being only approximated to the palatalizing position, ob-
served in several Uralic languages by LLB.
(j) S 5 6, C iv 5, E yea.
(jh) S 1 A, C iii 5, E h«w, Aue (jluu), hiss of (j) very close to ^ated
("ii), ait. 4.
K. (k kj kh kj kjh krh kw kwh, K k1i).
(k) S3a, Ci3, E cape, perfectly mute, art. 8.
<kj) S3 6, Ci5, SN -^i the "back" and "front" of the tongue
brought closely into the (k) and (j) positions, forming a
complete stop; the " point " may rest against the lower
gums, and had better do so to avoid the jump up to (tj)
cAest, with whidi this mute is constantly confused ; but
(tj) is more like '5[ (kjmh) or post-a-'pirated (kj), which
supplies the necessary hiss;
S 1 a, C iii 3, g dacA, sp j, see (kjh ktch).
Ci 4, IT la cAiave, palatalized (k), art. 12. In the 17th and
18th centuries constantly used in E before (a, k), it may
be now constantly heard in London before ou in count,
called (kJE'unt), or finer (kjeunt) for (ka'unt).
C iii 4, o teicA, palatalized (kh), confused with (jh) by Gennan
theorists, but the back of the tongue is higher for (kjh).
English people confuse it with concave (sh), which it ought
never to approach, though it comes near convex (shj).
Either (kjh) or (kjh), the liiss of (kj), which was not dis-
tinguished from (jh), was the original SN' ^, now called
(sh) and confused with tj. properly (9h), see under C,
(krh) Ct3, AR j^., a (kh) with the uvula slightly trilled, as in
' Dutch cJi ; Lepsius considers both to be (Kh).
(kw) Ci 2, art. 12, E jween (kii'iin), not (kmin).
(kiii) C iii 2, LS jwAat (kwhat), G aucA, buc7i, art. 12 labialized (kh).
(k) Oil, AR ^ (Kanf), the tongue greatly retracted and wedged
against the uvula.. Lepsius considers the proper sound
of AK J to be (a), the sonant of (k). By Syrian Moham-
medans and often by Egyptians the j is lost or rather
becomes hnmza(;), as (;aa'la) for (Kaa'la) said. "Em-
phatic" character attaches to ar t ■ i 1> ijo ^jo ]i, here
written (k krh grh t d s z), which Lepsius takes to have
the values (o kh oh .,d', .,1", .s', .dh') respectively ; this
"consists in a modification of the vowel by narrowing [the
passage below] the soft palate"; these letters are called
"high" by the Arabs because of this very high back of
the tongue. They call the emphatic pronunciation "thick,
rough, fatty." In fact (a) becomes (a), (o) remains, (e, i)
become (b, j,), (u) is scarcely changed. Europeans recog-
nize the consonants mainly by this vowel change.
(Kh) ' hiss of (k), considered by Lepsius to bo the proper sound of
what is here written as (krii).
L. (I Ij Ijh Ih Ij IS ISh, '1, } Jh, I Ih, L Lh, I Ij, J \h, l).
(I) S6c, C viii 8, art. 10, E gixll, tip of the tongue far behind
the gums, replaced on the Continent by (,1).
(Ij) 8 6 6. Sw. says ''(1) formed in the place of (j)," and hears
it in IT gli, SP II, PR lh, where LLB. and E. hear (Ij).
(Ijh) S2i. B. says it is "a variety of defective s," theoretical.
(Ih) S 2 c, C vii 8, flatcd G). not Welsh II. B. hears it before (t)
in fe^t, as (fElht). E. hears no trace of it, any more than he
hears ("e) in (wet).
(Ij) Cviiie, art. 12, iTjrW, SP H, PR M. LLB. and E. hear this as a
Ealatalized E (I), not Continental (,I), the palatalization
aving retracted the (,1).
(IS) C viii 8, voiced form or buzz of unilateral 'Welsh II, sec (ISh).
(ISh) Cvii8, or more conveniently (Ihh), Welsh Hall; put tongue
in position for (1), raise the left side to touch the palate^
let flatus escape by the right side. The tongue is then in
the position assumed after making the unilateral click
(tjSJ), see (ih) under H. Tliisnnilaterality is insisted on
by Salesbury,' and E. was thus taught in Wales. Sw.'
also insists on it. Some Welshmen do not.'
('!) E Mttlc, syllabic (1), the voice of tha lateral Dap sufficing to
form a syllable when final.
( ) 8 6 rf, C viii 9, F lait, the tip of tho tongue against the
gums, as is usual out of Eugluid.
(.Ij) . S2rf, Cvii9, flated (,1), occ. F pcupk ^
1 l^'tUh Pronunoiation, 1650.
• "Spoken North Welsh," IQ Traj. fkilol. Soc., 1882.84, p. 418. '
(/) S6a, PL guttural or "barred" /, that is, f with a slantinir
line draim through it. The back of tongue is raised as
high as for (k). St.' finds E I after a vowel in the eame
syllable half guttural ; this is unknown to Englishmen.
(fli) S 2 rt. B. calls it " the hiss of a water-fowl," the liiss of (I),
theoretical.
(l) C viii 7, reverted T, the underpart of the point of the tongue
coming against the hard palate, used in conjunction with
(b) in south-west England, as worM (waRD'L). Those
who used retracted (r,) say (w3r,d,'l ).
(Lh) C vii 7, flated form of (i.), theoretical.
(1) Irish Gaelic " broad " //, as in a?t (the I being written singir
because of the following <; at the end of a word it is always
written II), tongue in the same position as for (I), which
see, but with the lateral emission of the I class. [Lecky,
WS. communication.]
(Ij) Irish Gaelic " slender " !!, as in Irish Gaelic, miH ; this bears
the same relation to (1) as (tj) does to (t), see (y). [Lecky,
MS. communication.]
(t) turned 1, the gradual glottid, art. 5.
([h) an exaggerated form of the gradual glottid, art. 6, and see
(Hih) under H.
(^^ turned L, vs ret, glottal r. Bonders says "sing a note as
deep as possible, and then try to sing a lower oue, tho
voice will be replaced by a peculiar crackling Doise," wbicli
is (i) ; it is the common form of dn r.
M. (m nih 'm, rt).
(m) S 8(7, Cxl3, art. 11, E ?num«iing.
(mh) S^n, Zl^lZ, f.-.™ TzTJi of (m). B. hears it before mnteSf
in place of (m), as camp (kaemhp); E. does not, art. 11.
('m) syllabic m, E chasm (ktez'm).
(k) turned M, C vi 12, £ defective r in vewy (verci) very, differ-
ing from (brh) by having tight and flat in place of loose
and round lips, with minute instead of coimaerable excur-
sions of the flap.
N. (n nj nh nj, .n .nh, 'n, N, n nj).
(n) S8c, Cx8, E no, tongue as for (t), mouth open or closed
indifferently, as the tonsrue is an efl"ectual stop, art. 11.
(nj) a nasalized (Ij), which those take to be it .an who assume
IT gl to be (Ij), see (nj, qj).
(nh) 8 4 c, Cix8, flated (n), used in Cumberland for initial kn,
in know (nhoo). B. hears it before mutes, as in bent
(bEnht) ; E. does not, see art. 11.
(nj) nasalized (dj), the tongue lies along the palate in the same
way as for (dj), but the na.sal passages are now open. LLB.
and E. hear it as palatalized E (n), not (^n), it (jn, s? a,
PR nh, F gn. St.* takes the F sound to be (qj). E.
has not detected (qj) in native F speakers, after long-
continued express observation.
(,n) S 8 d, C X 9, F iiain, tongue on gums.
(,nh) S 4 rf, C ix 9, flated (,n), theoretical.
('n) syllabic (n), E opera (oop'n).
(N) 0x7, reverted (n), tongue as for (t), bn 75, south-west E n
in connexion with (k), as (hsRN) ran.
(n) Irish Gaelic " broad " nji,- as in drant (the n not doubled
because of following 0. tongue as for (t, I), which see,
but with nasal passages open. [Lecky, MS. communica-
tion.]
(nj) this bears the same relation to (n) that (tj) does to (t), Irish
Gaelic " slender " nn, as in bifiji. [Lecky, MS. com
munication.]
O. (o oh OA 6y, o oh),
(o) 'V8, T 12, short it open o, ni, long in E ero (ooJ), which is
fast degrading in Loudon to (AA v).
(oh) 'V 20. Sw. and Sv. hear (oh) and neither (o) nor (oh) in K
homme, which E. hears as (om), very different from E (am).
B. hears (oh) in colloquial eloquence, philosophy, opinion,
and American whole, in all of which £. hears (o).
(oa) art. 11, F voKt, a conventional form, not to be confuse.
with (aA).
(<5y) art. 7 iii, theoretic form of G «(, see (a'y).
(o) 'V 7, T 13. B. hears it short in E goer, raovier ; E. in poetic
following. B. hears it when long in E always and onlj
with tho vanish (oo'w), art. 6, art. 7 viii E. hears (oo'ic) iu
the pauoe, but otherwise generally (oo), and (dou) is alwayf
erroneous.
(oh) V 19. B. says this is a mixture of (o) with (i) or is (o) <itli
advanced tongne, that is, (,o) ; ho heara it in r hommi
(ohm), where E. hears (om), see (oh),
(oe CEA ce'y, ce ce'u, (e, ao ai).
■V 32, T 18, F vc«f, o bi«;ke. See Sv. under (y).
art. 11, orinasal F uA, chacitn, conventional symbol,
art. 7 iiL
(E,
(oe)
(oca)
(»'y)
> KnflUcJu PKUi>lofi4.- I. DU btoiub Spntkt, p. U,
« Ibid., p. 47.
388
S P E E C H-S 0 U N D S
\a)' 'V 1. B. hears it in Scotch Gaelic lacgL ; it may be producefl
» by saying (uu) and suddenly opening the mouth, see (ce'ii)-
(os'U) acute inchoant diphthong, ait. 7 ix, or (un), begun with the
^ mouth open and without iuternal louuding, very common
in south Lancashire and Cheshire.
((e) 'V 9. B. makes it the "narrow" foim of (a), and the regular
f ' form of LS Kp, come ; Sw. occ. ls form.
(ao) V 22. B. hears it as the regular E sound of er, ir, yr. Sw.
■■ hears it in the first element of how (hao'«), which E. finds
dialectal,
(a)) a dialectal south-west English sound of (a) throngh which a
sound of (a, o) seems to run, and usually appreciated as
the latter.
P. (p ph prh, pj, phi, p).
(p) 8 3^, Cil3, E peeping, perfectly mute, art. 8.
(ph) S 1 !7, C iii 12, Hungarian /, MO <(>, an (f) spokeu by the lips
only without the teeth, mouth in position for blowing to
cool, flated form of (bh), which see.
(prh) C V 13, flated form of (brh), common with babies before they
can speak.
(Pi) Ci 12, mute of (ph), the lips closed flat to form a complete
stop, theoretical.
(ph,) S2(7, middle of lips in contact, flatus expelled fiom each
corner of the mouth, theoretical.
(p) Ci 11, mute of (f), lower lip forming a complete stop with
upper teeth, theoretical.
Q. (q qj qjh qh qj).
(q) S 8 a, C X 3, E singer, finger, (g) with nasal passages open.
(qj) S 8 J, C X 5, 6N aT, nasal of the palatal series, see (kj gj).
Bopp considers it to be F gn, and Sw. hears it in F and
IT gn, sp K, PR nh, in all of which LLB. and E. hear
(nj)only.
(qjh) Sib, flated (qj), theoretical,
(qh) Si a, C ix 3, flated (q). B. hears it before mutes, as sink
(si'qhk) ; E. does not, art. 11.
(qj) C X 4, palatalized (q), different from (qj).
K. (r rh rsh, r^ r^h, ^r ,rh ,r^, r rh rw, r^, e r„, i).
(r) C Ti 8, E ring, tip of tongue far behind gums, flap weak in
England, strong in Scotland and Italy.
(rh) C V 8, flated form of (r).
(rsh) PI, prsez, tongue in position for (sh) with point flapped.
(r„) S 5 c, C ii 8, imperfect (d), the tongue not quite in contact,
almost (zhj) ; imperfect (r), the -flap being omitted, con-
sidered by B. and Sw. as normal (r), a sign for flapping
being added where a trill is used. Sv. m?.kes E r before
a vowel regularly (,r„). To E. , a born Londoner, (r J before
a vowel is very dilBcult to utter.
■(r„h) Sic, flated (r„), theoretical
(,r) Cvi9, sp rey, it re, fully trilled )• with the point of the
tongue advanced to the gums.
(^rh) C v 9, flated (,r), occ. F notre.
[jj alveolar unflapped (,r), see (rj, possibly the " soft " SP r in
amar, arado, breve.
(r) C vi 3, Parisian Paris, uvular r, art. 10 (3), resembling (grh).
(rh) C V 3, flated (r), common as a Q final r in the pause, ancfthen
greatly resembling a faint (krh).
!rw) 0 vi 2, labialized uvular (r), regular in Northumberland.
To) untrilled uvular (r), heard faintly between vowels in North-
umberland, in very, merry (vaV„t, ma'r^i), almost (v'ai,
m'at), like it vai, mai.
(b) C vi 7, reverted or cerebral r, the underpart of the point of
the tongue brought near the palate, and, according to E.'s
observations, allowed to flap, but constantly asserted to
be unflapped, see (R„). Common in modern Indian, not
in SN, and found in Norway and Sweden.' The charac-
teristic of south of England dialectal speech, and parent
of received E r and the vocal degeneration of r, art. 7
vii. By some considered as greatly retracted (r,).
(r„) Civ 7, unflapped variety of (R), supposed to prevail for (b)
■ which see.
(j> art. 7' vii, fully degenerated vocal (r), which may be followed
permissively by a trilled or flapped (r), forming the mur-
mur diphthongs.
S. (s sh shj sj, jS ^sh, s, oj).
(s) S 1 c, C iii 9, i; seal, hissing, with a convex tongue forming
a central strait, the sides being held firmly by the palate
and teeth, point tense and unruflied, with many uncon-
, eciaus varieties.
(ah) S1/?C iii 7, E rush, tongue retracted in respect to (s), upper
surface rather hollowed than convex, see (ch, shj) aua occ
lips projected, as E h\ish (hash"),
(shj) Ciii8, (sh) with convex tongue, tip somewhat depressed,
^ 1 Englische Fhilologk : I. I>U Ubendi Spi-ache, p. 4.
second eleiuoiit in (ijstjshj). High as initial before}), (
as spielen, stehen, where (sh) is not admissible.
(sj) Ciii6, PL kos', palatalized (s), art. 12.
(,8) C iii 9, point of tongue advanced nearly to teeth. LLB. hean
it in Tuscan sharp it lo rio, usually takeu as (,t,sio).
(,8h) advanced (shj), tongue convex and nearer the palate. LLB.
hears it in Tuscan pece (pi\shc), aud considers it the only
proper sound of IT c before « and i, which is Uiiually assumed
to be (,t,6h) or (,tj) ; but an Englishman's (tj) is quite in-
telligible.
(s) AR. ^ (soad), according to Lepsius a close emphatic »or(.8'),
see (k) and {d, t, z).
(<(j) Irish Gaelic ciste (.kjiSjtje,) treasni-e, s of the same series aa
(tj), which see. [Lecky, MS. communication.]
T. (t tj th tj, ,t, th„ t, T TJ, t tj).
(t) S 3 c, C i 8, R (00, tip of the toiigne lar behind the gnnis,
generated by reverted (t), with which it is confuBe<l by
Indians, who use their cerebral y % fur K (t, d).
(tj) E cAest = (tjslij ), art. 1 2, not to be confounded ivitli (k^), which
see.
(th) Slrf, C iii 10, B thin, Icelandic )?, mo 6, AR Cj, point of
tongue against bacX of fiont teeth, hiss produced by flatus
escaping between tongue and teetb, not necessarily be-
tween the interstices of the teeth, as Sw. says.
(tj) Ci6, Hungarian lij, palatalized (t), arj. 12, see (dj).
(,t) S3d, Ci9, F (as, usual Continental alveolar t, with the
tongue against gums, SN 7f, found in some midland and
northern E dialects before r or -er, see ^d).
(th,) C iii 10, sp : everjrwhere, and c before e,i, voz sopo, ce<:^o
dnto, lisped (s), tongue against gums, and hence a retracted
(th), see (dh,). LLB. hears it in it vuio, where it is gener-
ally assumed to be (,t,s).
(t) AJa W ((aad), which Lepsius describes as a close emphatic
(.,d'), see (k).
(t) C i 7, reverted or cerebral 6N J, with underpart of the point
of the tongue against the palate, common in south-west K
in connexion with (r), parent of received E (t).
(13) consonantal diphthong = (T9h), heard in "Wiltshire in con-
nexion with (r), as (aRTj) rich.
(t) Irish Gaelic "broad " post-aspirated mute, as in Irish Gaelic
aU, Id, Iii. The place of the tip of the tongue is apparently
unimportant,- but it is generally assumed to be dental or
interdental. The essential points are that the tongue ia
laterally expanded and slack, while the back is raised,
leaving a hollow in the "front." It is followed by a slow
flated glide, while the position changes to that of the
vowel, resembling a greatly predominating (th) mixed with
(kh). The voice is not put on till the vowel position is
•.reached. This is constantly used for (th) by Ijish speakers
. of English. [Lecky, MS. communication.)
(y) Irish Gaelic "slender" form of post-aspirateu mute, as' in
'^. ^ a,ilt, of a knuckle ; the tongue is spreading and slack ; the
part nearest to the palate is aboui an inch on the inner
side of the tip, being more towards the back than in ths
position for (s), the "front " being also raised ; the tip is
not turned np and its position is unimportant. The glide
of the post-aspiration sounds like a predominating (jh)
mixed with (s), being tighter at first and looser afterwards
than the E (jh). [Lecky, MS. communication.]
U. (u iia, u uh Uu, Mj, u).
(u) V 3, T 15, short E to imemphatic, F powle, replaced by («)
in E ; long B too. Some phonetists make the E long (uu)
to be always (liu) or («w).
(ua) art. 7 vi, where (li) replaces (w), F oie (iia), oui (iii), in soi, doigt,
&c. LLB. .considers that (s, ^d), &c., are labialized, art. 12.
(«) V4, T14, E fuU, wood, woman, cowld, "wide" form of (u).
(uh) V 16. B. hears it in the "colloquial" use of E awful, fissare,
nati/re, fortane (which E. does not understand), but says
also that it is (u) with a raised tongue, and hence = («').
Sw. hears it in SWD «pp, Sv. and St. in Norwegian httska.
(uu) art. 7 ix, grave inchoant diphthong, possibly Sw.'s (mw), com-
mon dialectally in Cumljerland and Westmorland.
(Kj) midland e vowel replacing (o, a)* E. feels it i;o be near (o*),
or to be a "thickened" (w) ; Mr Hallam, to whom it is
native, considers it to have the tongue intermediate to its
position for (0, u), and the closure of the lips equal to that
for (0), but made with flattened lips. In Yorkshire,
Cumberland, and Westmorland it is replaced by («), with
which most received speakers confound it.
(u) V16. Sw. heara it long in Norwegian and swD u«3, ut, A
says it is not far from F b^ne, but see (y). St ' consi .-ra
it intermediate between (u, y).
» Ibid., p. 32a
SPEECH-SOUNDS
389
Y. (v, a).
(v) S 5 !, C iv 11, E real, voiced (f), easy for E, F, it, hopeless to o,
sp, AR, MO, and Hiingniian. Indians use (v) with lower
lip against upper teeth, but the dentality is not prominent;
they read SN ^ iu this fashion when not following a con-
sonant ; when it Joes, it reverts to (ii) rather than to (w),
us (anusiiaara), not (anuswaara). In Bengali both cf ^
are called (b), which may be compared with Sf (bh) for (b, v).
(a) a turned i', regarded as an imperfect N, without the last
upstroke, N, after a vowel represents r nasality, art. 11,
and used also for that of PR and modern Indian, in which
the nasality seems much harsher, written like Greek i).
W. (w wh, w w}, 'w).
(w) S 5 /i, C iv 13, E we '{yen), with which compare F I'ie (vii), um
(\\\) and o loie (bhii) ; possibly AR j.
(wn) Sl/t, CiiilS, E w/iey, wAich, wAeel, «7iale, as distinct from
li'ay, !/;itch, weal, wnil ; the distinction, however, is nearly
obliterated by received speakers, who use (w) for botli (w,
wh), which is like saying t-eal, rale, rile for/eel, /ail, /ile ;
yet they laugh at the Somersetshire peasant for using
initial (v) for (f). Some consider (wh) to be (hw), meaning
(whw), and others to be (hu).
{to) a modifier to show labialization, art. 12, see (kw).
(lej) art. 12, symbol of LLB.'s presumed palato-labialization, by
attempting to pronounce (y) at the same time as a preceding
consonant, as F lu\, nwit, which on this liypothesis are
(,lifji, tnwji), and not (,Iyi, >nyi).
('tp) an indefinite vowel sound approaching to (u), towards which
E (oo) vanishes, art. 6.
Y. (y yf, yj, y y).
(y) V28, T16. B. and E. hear this in F nne. Sw. thinlcs the k
sound to be (i). Sv., sjjeaking of the two series of vowels
(l 3 sh) and (y ce teh), says wh.at is equivalent to close o U
in iiber = (3), the lips being often pressed against the teeth ;
open o a in hittte = (3,), somewhat more open than (») ; close
O 0 in schon = (ce) ; open coin bocke = (wh). Sv. also
makes F u in lune and dn y in Ij/s = (i) ; F eu in p«i4 =
(a) ; SWD d in for = (sh), which last he believes to be the
vowel nasalized in F un. Sw. also makes dn y in Ij/st = (y)
and F eu in people = (ce)
(yf) art. 7 v, f hio'le, see also (inj).
(y,) intermediate between (y, »), frequent in west Somerset and
Devon, where it replaces the received long (uu) and the
received diphthong (lu).
(y) V 14. B. considers that E (i, t, e e) when unaccented tend to
(y), as in return, linu't. Saint Paul's, captain, there is, and
regularly unaccented the. Sw. hears it as occ. E in nrctty.
E. has not observed this change.
(y) V13. B. hears it long in American sir. Sw.' says "the only
Russian vowel which offers any special difticulty is the
M, first correctly identified by B. as (v)." Lepsius' de-
scribes it as having (u)-tongue and (i)-lips, which would
give (ffi), and not (y). Sw.' also identifies both North
Welsh u and occ. y, as in si(t, ty, with (v), replaced by (i)
in South Wales. The PL and Bohemian y have the same
sound.
Z. (z zh zhj zj, 2. ^zh, i).
(z) S 5 e, C iv 9, E seal, buss, not in sp or Indian.
(zh) S5/, Civ 7, E division, F j. St.* says the E and F sounds
are different, the F beingmoro dental,
(ihj) C iv 8, voiced (shj), found iii E (dj = djzhj).
(zj) C iv 6, PL lej', voiced (sj), palatalized (z), art. 12.
(,z) Civ 9, IT lo selo, according to LLB. Usually conceived as
(,'1,'-), voiced (^s), which see.
(jZh) voiced (,sh), which see, heard by LLB. in it rer/io, usually
accepted as (,d,zh), for which the Englishman's (dj) is
sufficiently intelligible,
(e) AR lo (soa). Lcpsius considers this to be a close and emphatic
(dh) — that is, (.dh'), see (k) — but that in some jdaccs it is
incorrectly pronounced as an emphatic (.z) and in others
as an emphatic (.,d). i
Numerals, (s g gh f, q ^ g. ' i * ')■
(Z) Kaffre reverted click = ( rj), see (Jh) under H, Appleyard's.'/.
(£) ARC (gain), see art. 5 (4).
(gh) "trilled wheeze," differing from {h) solely by a rattln i.i
mucus.
(») Hottentot bilateral palatal click, Boyce's qc = (tjt), see (th)
(S) Kaffre dental click, Appleyard's c = (,tt), see (jh).
1 "Ru»9lnn Prnnunclatlon." In Tnni. Philol.Soc., 1877.T(i. p. .'.<4.
' ** I)io Arabiachen Biiracltluulc und ScUviiicheu v." lu Ttuns. Serlin Acrid.
(W., 18IU, p. I'.O.
• "Spoken North Welsh," In Tram. I'hitol.Sx.. 188:-3J. * /iiid., p. 43.
il) Kaffre unilateral palatal click, Appleyard's x = (tjSJ), e clicJ
to start a horse, sec (th) and (ISli).
(8) Waco(North-American Indian)guttui-al click = (kt),see(th)
(') modifier, meaning properly "witli raised toiignp," nscd laxly,
see (k).
(,) modifier, meaning properly "with lowered tongue," useil
very laxly, as in (;>,, y,, x,, ji,, b,, pli„ bh,), which see; '
(■*) modifier, meaning ■" internally rounded" by compressing
arches of palate, art. 4, as in a (arr'^t's />I(S3 (p'li's).
(°) modifier, meaning "with projecting lips," comnare [puo.
P'h's, pelf's), and Devon (oo'y,'), art. 7 iii.
Points. (,;?:.•"",).
(,) clear glottid, art. 5 (1).
(;) check glottid, A I! haniza, art. 5 (3).
{'■) suddenly stop,orabscnce of recoil in the pause, as(:si!rai!-w.iki)[
not (:sBraa'wuk').
(;) (1) after a vowel shows that the syllable lias a secondary
stress, as (nD:mincc-sliBn) nomination ; (2) before a whola
word indicates the secondary emphasis usually shown by
a capital, as (pAAl, :pAAl) pall, Paul.
(.) before a letter shows that it is especially strongly uttered,
emphasison asinglc clement, as(.lia't, h.ait, liic.t)/iat, hot,
ha^ as distinct from "at, hot, had," see (k).
(") (1) after a vowel shows that the syllable containing it has
the principal stress ; (2) prefi.^ced to a word shows it to bo
emphatic, a substitute for italics, as ("wil)! ksm? wil •hii
kam?) will he come ? will he come ? art. 14.
(') (1) before (h), see ('h) under H, crude voice ; (2) before voiced
letters, rendering the voice syllabically prominent, see ('1
'm 'n), &c. ; (3) more la.xly used in ('j, 'itJ)for indefinite
vowels near(i, u); (4) after sonants, voiced recoil, as (ded")
dead, art. 8.
(') (1) abbreviation for ('h) flatus, wliich see under H ; (2) befora
voiced letters indicates whisper, art. 4 ; (3) after mutes,'
flated recoil, as (def) debt, not written unless it is neces-
sary to call attention to it.
(") before voiced letters, reduces them to flated, as("ii), art. 4.^
(,) after a vowel or consonant nasalized by partial opening of
nasal passages, in Gaelic, south o, occ. American.
Accent.?. ('",„", „ „,)■
(') (1) mark of diphthongization, placed over or after snessetl
element, art. 7 ; (2) after (a) and not over it, as (a'i), dis-
tinct from (di), mark of unanalyscd diphthong, art. 7.
(") in pKace of ('), mark of .slurred di[ihthongs, art. 7.
(,) (1) after a letter shows retraction, as (d,, dh,), ic. ; (2) (J
more retraction.
(') (1) over or after a vowel denotes medial length, often united
with diphthongal (') forming a circumflex, as (ai, a";) ; (2)
after a consonant shows that it is held, the position beinjj
maintained throughout even when mute, as (dot'') ; uw^
for the north of England definite article (t'nian) the man,
distinctly different from (tnian, tuman, Ktinan). (J pre-
fixed to a letter means "with tongue advanced towards
the teeth," see (,t ,d n) ; (3, 4) ( ,,,) more advanced, an
(t) tongue point some way behind gums, (,t) tongue point
on gums, (,^t) tongue point on teeth, („,t) tongue point on
upper lip.
Signs. (U \ + ))i).
($) abridgment of (Jh), which sec under H.
(j) mark of trill or flap, used in transliterating B. and Sw.,
thus their equivalent of (r„j) = (r).
(i) symbol of inspiration, art. 2(2).
( + ) symbol of glide or speech-sound with changing position,
when simple juxtaposition is insufficient, arts. 2,8.
(;) the second half of a parenthesis ()) cut at the height of a
non-ascending letter, symbol of "break, "showing that there
is no glide between the letters juxtaposed. 'I'hns (s -t- ii)
is usually written (sii), but(3;ii) arc the two Ictlere and
their sounds (s,ii) without any glide, of great use in theo-
retical discussions.
0) the second half of a parenthesis placed between two letter*
shows that, though they belong to different words, they
run on with a glide as if they belonged to the same wonl,
very convenient in dialect writing, as (oor;d)a'nniii) old
woman, usually written ole dianman by dialect writers;
here (') sliows that (1) is held, but (;) marks that it docs
not run on to the (d), which, however, is shown by {)) to
beiong to the .same word with (1), but to run on to (m) in
the next word.
,, i . [ cut at the height of a non-ascending letter and shows
that the letter it precedes is scarcely perceptible in speech,
as (:mii(lh,ritdh,) niadrid.
There arc many more palaeotypo letters and signs, hero omittcil
for brevity, ^ut fouixl necessary for phonetical discussions.
21. fiacUMl AliihaOds.— The above alphabeticiil list comprisca
390
S P E — S P E
243 symbols, made up of 192 elements, 14 vowel diphthongs, 4
consonant diphthongs, 19 modifiers, and 11 other signs. It has
been reduced to the sBiallest possible number suitable for giving a
notion of the kind of symbolization required for universal alpha-
bets. The list from which it was extracted contained double the
number and was still incomplete, even so far as the writer's in-
vestigations had extended. A universal alphabet would probably
require a thousand cases to be provided for. It would be difficult
for even the inventors to use such an alphabet, and absurd to present
it for practical use. Inventors have therefore had recourse to radical
signs sj-mbolizing what they consider the principal lelations and
modifiers of these radicals. Some, as Briicke, Werkel, Bell, and
Sweet, use entirely new characters, of which Bell's and Sweet's are
intended by their shape to recall the positions of the organs of
speech in uttering the sounds represented. But these writers are
not agreed either as to the shape or value of the radicals themselves.
The modifiers are very variou.s, and when more than one modifier is
required the characters become too complicated for the eye and hand
to deal with them rapidly. Universal writing is still a philosopher's
stone, though much has been learned in its pursuit. Falaeotyne is
of course a mere typographical makeshift.
, Fortunately writing long preceded phonetic knowledge. The
number of distinct sounds in any one language seldom exceeds fifty,
and practically fewer still are needed, for a native needs only a
broad hint of the sound to reproduce it. The signs for English in
art. 1 are rather superabundant than deficient, and tlie small ad-
ditions of foreign signs suffice for French, German, and Italian
practically, though very deficient scientifically. In fact, the modes
of combining sounds in those three languages and English are so
different t|iat the alphabet has to be differently conceived for each.
■ This is the final breakdown of universal writing. An English,
German, French, and Italian reader, each requires an alphabet
founded on his own linguistic habits, and very insufficiently com-
prehends any other. But even a rough appreciation for linguistic
purposes is better than the thoroughly false appreciations now
current. To obtain a scientific foundation for erecting an alphabet
of any language which shall ha\-e scientific valne, five stages are
■needed :— (1) the perfect acquisition of a series of words containing
jevery sound used ; (2) variation of each word by involving its
Bounds in different combinations to appreciate the eflTeets of gliding
juxtaposition ; (3) the perfect acquis'ition of short sentences of
diflfereut characters to understand the effects of construction and
.emotion ; (4) the study of unrestrained conversation between
Biatives from the phonetic point of view ; (5) frequent writing from
[the dictation of natives and teaching others to read by the signs
Bdopted after the first four stages are passed. How far the charac-
ters should indicate the positions of the organs of speech is another
[point, which need not be considered at first, and can only be ac-
complished with extreme roughness even at last. Thus Bell's capi-
taUy conceived and executed "visible speech" requires much ex-
planation to be intelligible and after all tells but little. Any signs
easy to write and distinct to read without wearying the eye will
suffice, provided each be furnished with a full explanation (much
longer and more explicit than the greatly condensed explanations
of art. 20) not only of its separate but its combined power, and
the requisite knowledge for furjiishing these cannot be obtained
TOthout much and long-continued labour. Mr Sweet's studies of
Danish, Swedish, Russian, Portuguese, and North Welsh pronuncia-
ition are models in their way, especially the last, but suffer from
extreme conciseness.
The use of such phonetic studies is principally philological, a
touch smaller amount of precision sufficing for all the purposes of
ordinary life,— understanding speech and speaking intelligibly,
writing speech from dictation and reading what is written. Our
scientific knowledge of speech-sounds has really only just com-
menced, and is therefore extremely incomplete and confined to very
few people. But what has as yet been learned is of great practical
value in the reduction of unwritten dialects and languages to writ-
ing, in exhibiting the actual speaking habits of existent written
tongues, in divining the intention of systems of writing employed
in extinct languages, and hence in historically tracing the cogna-
tion and filiation of.pne language to another and the successive forms
assumed in the gradual development of a single form of speech.
These great applications of the studv of speech-sounds, as well as
the practical introduction of systems of spelling easier to read and
WTite than those now found in most of Europe (including European
America) and Asia, lie beyond the scope of this article, which only
aims at sliowing in extremely condensed terms the foundations of
the theory of their combinations and some of their most important
and best known forms.
Bi6!io<7rn))Si/.— Subjoined is a list of the principal works on tlie subject since
1844 inclusive, in olpliabetical order of the ^Titers. E. Behnke, Mtchanism of
the Hiiniun Voice. Sd ed., ISS2 ; Behnke and Brown, roJ.-i!, Song, nml Speech
(seeBro-n-n) ; A. Graham Bell, "Vowel Theories," in ^ men ./our. ofOMonv July
1879; A. Melville Bell, Visible Speech, Aio, 1661 ; U., Sounds and their Uilalions,
fls. 4to, ISSl ; Prince L. L. Bonaparte. "Vowels and Consonants," in Ellis's
Karly English Pronunciation; Id., "Portucuese Simple Sounds,"in Trans. P*iIo;,
»oc., 1880-Sl : Id., "Simple Sounds of all living Sclavonic Languages," ibid ■
Lennox Brown and Eniil Behnke, Voice, Sotiij, and Speecli, ISS.I (with nlioto-
graphs of living vocal chords) : Ernst Briicke, Grundzvtie dcr nuaiolnnie xitui
Siietrmalik der StirucHaiite, 1st cd. 1656, 2d ed. IST6; Id., Neiie Mttliodt dtr
phoiietischm Transrription, ISO.3; Johanu Czeruiak, " Plivsiologischc Uuter-
siichuiigen nut Garrlas Kehlkopfspiegel," in l'if«i;a Acn'd. Math.-Miye vol
XXIX., 1S5S; Id., "Splritus Asper mid Lciiis, Flusterstiiimie, Kchlkopliantc "
ilnd., vol. Ill,, part v.; F. C. Donders, De Pliysiolonie der .'tpraaUlaiiken 1870 •
Alexander J. Ellis, Alphalvt of Kalvre, 1SJ4-45 ; Id., E^stittiaU oj I'hotietics
1846 (printed in phonotjpy) ; Id., Tfiurlifi's Hiiide to the Pctulinii Rr/orm Ihitro-
ducing "glides "),1S5J; Id., " Palaeotype," in T/avs. P/iito/. Soc, 1S07; Id Enrlij
Kiighsh Pronunciation, parts i. and ii. 1809, pa t ill. 1871, part iv. 1874 in
progress : Id., "Accent and Emphasis," in Trans. I hilol. Soc, 1573 ; Id., Prontnt-
ctation /or Singers, 1877 ; Id., Speech in Song, 1877 ; W. R. Evans, "Phonetic
Outlines," in Spelling Erperimenler, 1SS4, vol. ii. ; Eiving (see Jenkin); sl
S. Haldeman, Analytic Orthography, Trevelyan prize essay, ISW) ; H. HaliV
" Doubtful or Intermediate Articulations," in Jour. Anthropol Inst., Kebruaiyi
1SS5; H. Helinholtz, Tonempfiudungen, 1st ed. 18GJ, 4tli ed. 1877 2d edj
of A. J. Ellis's translation, " Vowel 1 henry," ISS5 ; Fleeniing Jenkin and J. aJ
Ewing, "Harmonic Analysis of certain Vowel Sounds," in Traits. Jt. Soc. EitiiiJ
18,9, vol. xxviii.; Ch. Joret, Du C dans les langues Romanes, 1874 ; J. P. N,
Land, Vitspraak en Spelling, 1870; R. G. Latham, English Language, 4th edJ
1855, vol. ii. part iii., "Plionesis"; James Lerky, "Irish Gaelic bounds," ii>
Proc Philol. Sue, June 1S84 and May 1885; R. Lepsius, "Chinesische und
Tibetische Lautverh.iltnisse." in Trans. Berlin. Acad. Sci., 1860; Id., "Die
Arabischen Spiachlaute nnd Sclavisches y," ibid., ISOl ; Id., Standard Alphabet}
1803 ; J. A. Liindell, " Dct Svcnska LnnilsniSlsalfabet," 1879, part of Nyart
Bidrag till Kdnnalonl om de Srenska Laiidsniulen, 1S7S, Stocklioliii ; C. L.'
-Merkel, Anthropophonik, ISiT ; U\., Funclionen des menschliclien Sclilnnd- vn-l.
KeM-Kopfes, 1S02; Id., Wi/sio/ojie der menschlichen Spruclie (LuMik), 1S66; Oj
Michaelis, S-Laute, 1803; F. Max Mullcr, Languages of Seal cfM'nr in East, aml<
Missionary Alphabet, 1855 ; James A. H. Jlurray, Pialect of Southern Conn'ies 0/
Scotland, 1873; H. Nicol, "Diphthong an,' iii Trans. Philel. Soc, 1877-79;
Id., "Old French Labial Vowels," ibid., 1873-74 ; W. H. Precce and Augusllm
Stroh (studies on acoustics), "On the Synthetic Examination of Vowel
Sounils," in Proc. It. Soc, 27tli February 187!', vol. xxviii.; H. U. Rnmpclt, Das
naturlidie System der Sprachlaute, 1809 ; Madame E. Seller, Altes und Scues iiber
dieAuslildiingdesCesangorganes, 1S61, translated in 1S71 in Aiiieiieaas The Vole
ill Singing ; Id., The Voice in SpeaLing, translated bv Dr Vf. H. Fllini ss. 1875;
Edward Sievers, Grundziige der Lautphysiologie, I.S76; Id., tlrvnd-.uge dcr
Phonelik, as Sd ed. of preceding, pp. xv. and 224, 3d ed. ISbS (in hi,, biblio-
graphy the author refers to 157 works of eighty-eight author!,) ; Johaiin SInriii,
Englische Philologie : I: Die lehende Sprache; btroh (see Prcece) ; Carl J.
Sundcvall, " Om Phonetika Bokst.ifver," in Tmiis. Swtdish Aead. Sci., I8:<C, voL
i.; Henry Sweet, " Danish Pronunciation," in Trans. Philol. ioc, 157:1-74 ; Id.,
"History of English Sounils," ibid.; Id., Handbook of phonetics, 1S77; Id.,
"Sounds and Forms of Spoken Swedish," in Trans. Philol. .Soc, 1877-79 ; Id.,
"Russian Pronunciation," ibid.; Id., "Sound Notation," ibid., ISSO-Sl (with
corrections of the i/a/i(/6ooi): Id., "Spoken Portuguese," ii-ij., 1SS2-54 ; Id.,
"Spoken North Welsh," ibid.; F. Technier, "Naturwis^ciischaftliclie Analyse
und Sjiithese der horbaren Sprache," in Intenatl. ZeiUrh. f. altg. SprachvisstH'
sdiiyft, vol. i.; W. D. Whitney, "On Lepsins's Standard Alphabet," in Jour.
An. OrieiU. .Soc, vol. viii.; id., "On Bell's Visible Speecli," in Orient, anil
Unguis. Studies, ISTa; Id., "How shall we Spell ?" i6ic/.; M.,"Engli>li Pro-
nunciation." ibid.; Id., " Relation of Vowel and Consonant," ibid.; Id., '• Accent
in Sanscrit," ibid.; J. Winteler, Die Kerenzer Mvndart ; 0. Wolf, .«; rarbr unil
Ohr. (A. J. E.)
SPEKE, John Canning (182--1SG4), an eminent
African explorer, who was tlie first European to cross
Central Africa from north to south and to determine the
existence and position of the great water basin from which
the Nile proper issues full formed. He was born on 4th
May 1827 at Jordans near Tlche.-^ter, in Somer.'-etshire.
Entering the Indian army in 1?44, he served in Sir Colin
Campbell's division in the Punjab campaigns, and gradu-
ally acquired no small repute both as a military officer
and as a sportsman and naturalist. When on furlough
Captain Speke often advanced into Tinexplored portions
of the Himalayas, and even crossed the frontier into Tibet;
but his attention was at an early date turned to the great
problems not of A.siatic but of African geography, and iu
1854 he commenced his brief and brilliant African career
by an expedition along with Captain Burton into Somali
land, the incidents of which are narrated in W/inf led to
the Discovery of the Source of the A'l/c (London, 1864). It
■was along with the same explorer that the exjiedition of
1857-59 was undertaken, in the course of which Cajitaiii
Speke, leaving Captain Burton, unfortunately invalided,
at Kaze, struck northwards and reached the shores of
Lake Victoria Nyassa in the neighbourhood of a nullah,
which he named Jordans after his birthplace. Convinced
though he was that this lake belonged to the Nile system,
he~ had no absolute proof to offer to the sceptici.'^m of hi,>
fellow-traveller and many stay-at-home geograjihers, until
in 1863 he returned from another expedition along with
Captain James Augustus Grant, in which he struck this
Nile at its exit from the lake, and proved its identity with
the river of Egypt by follow-ing it most of the way down.
Captain Speke was expected to hold a public discussion
with Captain Burton as to certain disputed points in tlifi
history of ' his discoveries at the British Association in
Bath (1864); but on the very morning (15th September^
a P E — S P E
391
fixed for the tournament he was killed by the accidental
discharge of Lis own gun as he was crossing a fence while
out shooting.
See Speko, Journal qfllu Dixovery ofOu Source of the Jfile, 2 vols.,
1863 ; J. A. Grant, A Walk acroxs Africa, 1864.
SPEXCEE, JoH.N Charles Spexcer, third E.uil (1782-
1845), better known by his courtesy title of Lord Althorp,
had the good fortune to be acquainted, tlirough his father's
official position in the ministries of Pitt and Grenville,
with both Pitt and Fo.x, and to be the confidential ally,
through his own sound judgment and political honesty,
of the leaders of the Whig party immediately before and
aft«r the Reform Bill of 1832. His father, the second
earl, was well versed in books. His mother, the eldest
daughter of Lord Lucan, was conspicuous in London
society for her gaiety and brightness. Their eldest son,
John Charles, was born at Spencer House, London, on
30th May 1782, and sent to Harrow for his education
when less than eight years old. At school he was chiefly
remarkable for his love of sports and for a shyness which
accompanied him throughout life, but fortunately did not
prevent him whilst at Harrow from forming two or three
acquaintances which proved useful in parliamentary life.
In January 1800 he took up his residence at Trinity
College, Cambridge, and for some time applied himself
energetically to mathematical studies; but during the last
year of his life at college he surrendered himself a captive
to the pleasures of hunting and racing. Almost immedi-
ately after taking the degree of M.A., in June 1802, he
set out on a 'Continental tour, which was cut short, after
he had passed some months in the chief cities of Italy, by
tlie renewal of -^-ar. Through the influence of Pitt's
Government he was returned to parliament for the borough
of Okehampton in Devonshire in April 1804, and, although
he vacated his seat in February 1806 to contest the uni-
versity of Cambridge against Lord Henry Petty and Lord
Palmerston (when he was hopelessly beaten), he was re-
elected in the same month for Okehampton, and rewarded
with the emoliunents of a lord of the treasury. ' At the
general election in November 180G the freeholders of
Northamptonshire selected him a,s their representative,
and he continued to sit for the county until he succeeded
to the peerage. His tastes were then, as 'ever, for country
life, but his indignation at the duke of York's conduct at
the Horse Guards led him to move a resolution of the
House of Commons in 1809 for the duke's removal from
his post. For the ne.xt few years after this speech Lord
Althorp occasionally spoke in debate and always on the
side of Liberalism, but from 1813 to 1818 he rarely
entered the doors of the House of Commons. His absence
was partly due to a feeling that it was hopeless to struggle
against the will of the Tory ministry, but more particu-
larly to his marriage on 14th April 1814 to Esther, only
daughter of Richard Acklom of Wiseton Hall, Notting-
hamshire. In 1819, on his return to political life after
the death of his wife, and for many years after that date,
he pressed upon the attention of the House the necessity
of establishing a more efficient bankruptcy court, and of
expediting the recovery of small debts ; and, although his
name is not associated with the attainment of either of
these objects, he saw both accomplished before 1825.
During the greater part of the reign of George IV. the
Whigs lost their legitimate influence in the state from
their want of cohesion, but this defect was soon remedied
when Lord Althorp was chosen their leader in the Lower
House, and his capacity for the position was proved by
experience. When Lord Grey's administration was formed
at the close of 1830 the chancellorshi[) of the e.tchequor
combined with the leadership of the House of Commons
was naturally entrusted to Lord Althorp, and to him more I
than to any otlier man, with the exception of tlie prime
minister and the lord chancellor, may be attributed" the
success of the Government measures. The budget, it is
true, was a failure, but this misfortune was soon forgotten
in the struggles over the Reform Bill. The consideration
of the preliminaries of this measure was assigned to four
ministers, two in the cabinet and two outside that bod)- ;
but their proposals were, after careful examination, au-
liroved or rejected by Lord Grey and Lord Althorp before
they were brought under the notice of the cabinet, ^\'uen
the Bill was readj' for introduction to the House of
Commons its princijiles were expounded by Lord John
Russell ; but. from the commencement of the protracted
discussion over its details he had the assistance of Lord
Althorp, and after some weeks of incessant toil, which the
physique of Lord John Russell could not sustain any longer,
the whole responsibility was cast on Lord Althorp. To
combat the objections of three such pertinacious oppo-
nents as Croker, Sugden, and Wotherell required both skill
and courage, and in Lord Althorp these qualities were
found. He was constantly on his legs, and on one evening
he jnade as many as twenty speeches. The Reform Bill
was carried at last, and popular instinct was right in
assigning to the leader of the House a credit only second
to that earned by Lord John Russell. After the dissolution
the Whigs returned to power with augmented numbers ;
but differences soon showed themselves among both leaders
and followers, and their majority crumbled away. Their
position was strengthened for a time by triumphantly
carrying a new poor law Bill ; and even their keenest critics
would now allow that, had the Whig propositions on tithes
and church-rates been carried into effect, many years of
passionate controversy would have been spared. The
ministry of Lord Grey was shattered to pieces by diffi-
culties over an Irish coercion Bill, in which O'Connell
thought that he had been unfairly treated. Although Lord
Melbourne became premier (14th July 1834), the fortunes
of the ministry rested on Lord Althorp's presence in the
House of Commons. The death of Lord Spencer on lOtli
November 1834. Called his son to the Upper House, and
William IV. took advantage of this event to summon a
Tory cabinet to his side. The new Lord Sjjencer abandoned
the cares of office and returned to country life with un-
alloyed delight. ' Often as he was urged by his political
friends to come to their assistance, he rarely quitted the
peaceful pleasures which he loved. He died at Wiseton
on 1st October 1845. The ^\^ligs required, to carry the
Reform Bill, a leader of unstained character, one to whom
party spirit could not attach the suspicion of greed of office,
and against Lord Althorp malevolence was powerless. No
stronger' proof of his pre-eminence could be given than the
oft-quoted saying of Lord Hardinge that one of Croker's
ablest speeches was demolished by the simple statement of
Lord Althorp that he had collected some figures which
entirely refuted it,- but had lost them. The trust which
the House put in him then was never wanting.
SPENER, PHiLirr Jakob (1G35-170u), "the father of
Pietism," was born 13lh January 1C35, at Rap|)oltswciIer
in Upper Alsace. He received his earliest education from
his subsequent brother-in-law, Joachim Stoll, chaplain to
the count of Rappoltstein, whoso wife was Spcncr's god-
mother. After a briefstay in the grammar-school of Colmar
he entered the university of Strasburg in 1G51 as a student
of theology, — lifing there with an uncle, and holding quite
aloof from the student-life of the place. Ho devoted him-
self to philology, history, and philosophy, and won his
degree of master (1653) by a disputation against tho phi-
losophy of Hobbes. Ho then became private tutor to tho
jirinces Christian and Charles of the Palatinate, and lectured
in tho university on philology and lii.->torj. From ICTiy to
392
S P E — S P E
1662 he visited the universities of Basel, Tiibingen, and
Geneva, and commenced the study of heraldry, which he
pursued throughout his life. In Geneva especially his
religious views and tendencies were turned in the direction
of his subsequent Pietism. He returned to Strasburg in
1663, where he was appointed preacher -without pastoral
duties, with the right of holding lectures in the university.
Three years afterwards he was invited to become the chief
jiastor in the Lutheran church at Frankfort-on-the-Main.
He had previously married a lady of his mother's choice,
who made him an excellent wife and bore him eleven
children. Immediately after his removal to Frankfort he
commenced that line of pastoral work which issued in the
movement called Pietism (q.v.). In 1686 he accepted the
invitation to the first court chaplaincy at Dresden. But the
elector John Ueorge III., at whose personal desire the post
had been offered to him, was soon offended at the fearless
conscientiousness with which his chaplain sought to dis-
charge his pastoral duties ; and the opposition of the Saxon
university of Leipsic to the Pietistic movement and to
Spener personally served to render the chaplain more de-
cidedly a persona ingrata to the elector. Spener refused
to resign his post, and the Saxon Government hesitated
to dismiss him. But in 1691 the Saxon representative at
Berlin induced the court of Brandenburg to offer him the
rectorship of St Nicolas in Berlin with the title of "con-
sistorialrath." In Berlin Spener was held in high honour,
though the tendencies of the court and the Government
officials were rather rationalistic than pietistic. One of
the most important works of this period of his life was the
foundation of the university of Halle (1691), which he
directed. All his life long Spener had been exposed to
the incessant attacks and abuse of the orthodox Lutheran
theologians, who generally charged him with the errors in
doctrine and extravagances in practice of followers who
had borrowed from him everything rather than his wisdom
and caution. With his years his opponents multiplied,
and the movement which he had inaugurated presented
increasingly matter for hostile criticism. In 1695 the
theological faculty of Wittenberg formally laid to his charge
1264 errors, and only his death (5th February 1705) released
him from these fierce conflicts.
Though Spener has been justlj' called " the father of Pietism,"
Miardly any of the errors and none of the extravagances of the
knovement can bo ascribed to him personally. So far was he from
sharing them that Eitschl maintains (ii. p. 163) that " he was him-
self not a Pietist," as he did not advocate the quietistic, legalistic,
and semi-separatist practices of Pietism, though they were more or
less involved in the positions he assumed or the practices whjch ho
encouraged or connived at. The only two pomts on which he
departed from the orthodox Lutheran faith of his day were the
requirement of regeneration as the sine qua non of the true theo-
logian, and the expectation of the couversion of the Jews and the
fall of Papacy as the prelude of the triumph of the church. He
did not, lilce the later Pietists, insist on the necessity of a conscious
crisis of conversion, nor did he encourage a complete breach be-
tween the Christian and the secular life.
Spener was a voluminous writer. The list of his published
works comprises 7 vols, folio, 63 quarto, 7 octavo^ 46 duodecimo ;
and in one year he had answered 622 and had still to answer 300
letters. The most important of his works for their bearing on his
history are Thcologische Bedenken, in 4 parts, Halle, 1700-1702 ;
LHzte thcologische Bedenken, with a life of Spener by Canstein, HaUe,
1711; Concilia el judicia theqlogica LoXina (posthumous), Frank-
fort, 1709. ^
See Hossbach, Philipp Jaiob Spener und seine Zeit (Berlin, 1S28, 2J ed. 1853,
Sd ed. 1S61) ; Tlioluck. in Herzog-Plilf s Real-EncyklopMie (2d ed., vol. xiv.) ;
Gass, Proteslantische DogmalU: (Berlin, 1857) ; Ritschl, Cesch. des Pietismus, ii.
jt. 97, sq. (Bonn, 1884); and Sachsse, Ursprung und Wesen des Pietismvs (Wies-
Wen, 1SS4).
SPENNTMOOR, a market town of Dufham, England,
is situated on the Ferryhill and Bishop Auckland branch of
the North-Eastern Railway, 3j miles north-west of Ferry!
hiU and 6 south of Durham by road. Within recent years
it has increased with great rapidity owing to the production
of cr.J ."cd iron, and in 1865 it was formed into a market
town under a local board of health. It possEsse"s a town-
hall, a mechanies' institute and reading room, and two
market halls. A school board was formed in 1875. The
population of the urban sanitaiy district (area 176 acres)
in 1871 was 4627, and in 1881 it was 5917.
SPENSER, Edmund (c. 1552-1599), Elizabethan poet,
was born in tondon about the year 1552. The received
date of his birth rests on a passage in sonnet Ix. of the
'Amoreiii. He speaks there of having lived forty-one
years; the Amoretti was published in 1595, and described
on the title-page as "written not long since"; this would
make the year of his birth 1552 or 1553. We know from
the Proihalamion that London was his birthplace. This at
least seems the most natural interpretation of the words —
" Jlerry London, my most kindly nurse.
That to me gave this life's first native source."
It would appear from a recent discovery by Mr R. B.
Knowles^ that the relationship of the poet to the noble
family of Spencer, if it existed at all — and official names
such as Spenser (Dispenser) or Stewart (Steivard) carry no
proof of consanguinity- — was remote, and that the poet's
kinsmen must be sought among the humbler Spensers of
north-east Lancashire. Robert Nowell, a London citizen,
left a sum of money to be distributed in various charities,
and in the account-books of his executors Mr Kiiowles has
discovered among the names of other beneficiaries "Edmund
Spensore, scholar of the Merchant Taylor School, at his
going to Pembroke Hall in Cambridge." The date of this
benefaction is 28th April 1569. As the poet is known to
have been a sizar of Pembroke, the identification is beyond
dispute. TUl this discovery it was not known where Spenser
received his school education. The speculations as to the
poet's parentage started by the Nowell MS. are naturally
more uncertain. Mr Knowles found three Spensers in the
books of the Merchant Taylors, and concluded that tfie
poorest of them, John Spenser, a ^'free journeyman" in
the " art or mystery of clothmaking," might have been the
poet's father, but he afterwards abandoned this theory.
Mr Grosart, however, adheres to it, and gives a confident
solution of Mr Knowles's difficulties. Nothing approaching
certainty can be reached on the point, which is not itself of
much inlportance. The connexion of Spenser with Lan-
cashire is also supported by the Nowell MS. Several
Spensers of that county appear among the "poor kins-
folk " who profited by Nowell's bounty.
It is natural that a poet so steeped in poetry 6S, Spenser
should show his faculty at a very early age ; and there is
strong reason to believe that verses from his pen were
published just as he left school at the age of sixteen or
seventeen. Certain pieces, translations from Du Bellay
and Petrarch, afterwards included in a volume of poems
by Spenser published in 1591, are found in a miscellany,
Theatre for Worldirigs, issued by a Flemish Protestant
refugee, John van der Noodt, on the 25th of May 1569,
The translations from Du Bellay appear in blank verse in
the miscellany, and are rhymed in sonnet form in the later
publication, but the diction is substantially the same ; the
translations from Petrarch are republished with slight
variations. Poets were so careless of their rights in those
days and publishers took such liberties that we cannot
draw for certain the conclusion that would be inevitable if
the facts were of more modern date ; but the probabilities
are that these passages in Van der Noodt's Theatre, although
the editor makes no acknowledgment, were contributed by
the schoolboy Spenser. As the exercises of a schoolboy
I writing before our poetic diction was enriched by the
great Elizabethans, they are remarkable for a sustained
command of expression which many schoolboys might ex-
' See The Spending of the Money i>f Robert Nowell, urivitel*
printed, 1877.
S P E N S E K
393
Libit in translation now, but which was a rarer and more
Bignificant acconi]ilishment wlien Surrey and Sackville were
the highest models in post-Chaucerian English.
Little is known of Spenser's Cambridge career, except
Ihat he was a sizar of Pembroke Hall, took his bachelor's
Jegree in 1572, his master's in 1576, and left Cambridge
without having obtained a fellowship. Mr Grosart's
inquiries liave elicited the fact that his health was not
good, — college allowances while he was in residence being
often paid "Spenser tegrotanti." One of the fellows of
Pembroke strongly influenced his destiny. This was
Gabriel Harvey, a prominent figure in the university life
of the time, an enthusiastic educationist, vigorous, versa-
tile, not a little vain of his own culture and literary powers,
which had gained him a certain standing in London society.
The revival and advancement of English literature was a
passion of the time, and Harvey was fulh' possessed by it.
His fancy for reforming English verse by discarding rhyme
and substituting unrhymed classical metres, and the tone
of his controversy with Thomas Nash, have caused him to
be regarded as merely an obstreperous and pragmatic
pedant ; but it is clear that Spenser, "who had sense
enough not to be led astray by his eccentricities, received
active and generous help from him and probably not a
little literary stimulus. Harvey's letters to Sjjenser' throw
a very kindly light on his character.
Three years after leaving Cambridge, in 1579, Spenser
issued his first volume of poetry, the Shepherd's Calendar.
AVhere and how he spent the interval have formed subjects
for elaborate speculation. That most of it was spent in
the study of his art we may take for granted. That he
lived for a time in the "north parts" of England; that
{here or elsewhere he fell in love with a lady whom he
celebrates under the anagram of "Rosalind"; that his
friend Harvey urged him to return south, and introduced
him to Sir Philip Sidney ; that Sidney took to him, dis-
cussed poetry with him, introduced him at court, put hira
in the way of preferment, — are ascertained facts in his
'personal history. Mr Grosart conjectures with consider-
able plausibility that he was in Ireland in 1577 in the
service of Sir Henry Sidney, Philip's father, and returned
to England with that administrator in 1578.
The interest of the Shcphtrd's Calendar is mainly personal to
Spenser. Its twelve poems continue to be read „chietly because
they were the iii'st published essays of the author of the Facnj
Queen, the poems in which he tried and disciplined his powers.
They mark no stage in the history of pastoral poetry. Spenser
had too stronj,' a genius not to make liis own individuality felt in
any form that lie attempted, and liis buoyant dexterity in handling
various schemes of verse must always atford delight to the con-
noisseur in. such things. But a reader not already in^restcd in
Spenser, or not already familiar with the artificial eclogue, would
find little to attract him in the iShrphcrd's Calendar. The poems
need a special education ; given this, they are felt to be full of
charm and power, a fresh and vivid spring to the splendid summer
of the Faery Queen. The diction is a studiously archaic artilicial
compound, jiartly Chaucerian, partly North Anglian, partly facti-
tious ; and tlie pastoral scenery is such as may bo found in any
country where there are sheep, hills, trees, shrubs, toadstools, and
running streams. That Spenser, having been in the north of
England, should have introduced here and there a touch of north
country colour is natural enough, but it is not sufficient to give a
character to the poems as pastoral jiocms. As such they follow
continuously and do not violently break away from Latin, Italian,
and Kieiich predecessors, and Mr George Saintsbury is undoubtedly
right in indicating Jliirot as the most immediate model. At the
same time one can quite tiiulerstand on historical grounds why the
Sheplicrd'a Calendar was hailed with enthusiasm as the advent of
R "new poet." Not only was it a complete work in a form then
new to English literature, but the execution showed the hand of a
m.aster. There had been nothing so finishod, so sustained, so
masterful in grasp, so brilliant in metre and phr.ise, since Chaucer.
It was felt at once that the poet for whom the age had been waiting
had come. The little coterie of friends whose admiration the young
poet had won in private were evidently concerned lest the wider
' Letter-Book of Gabriel Ilarce>j, Camden Society.
public should be bewihlered and ie)Klled by the unfamiliar pastoral
lorni and rustic diction. To.juit the public at the right point of
\iew the poems were published with a commentary by "E. K.,."
sujiposed to be one Edwanl Kirkc, who was an undcrgi-aduatc with
Spenser at rcnibroke. This so-called "glosse" t:5plained the
.ircliaic words, revealed the poet's intentions, and boasted that, as
in the case of Viigil, the pastoral poetry of the "new poet" was
but "a proving of the wings for higher and wider flights." The
'•new poet's" name was withheld; and the identification of the
various "shepherds" — of Cuddle and Rolfy and Diggon Davie,
and the beauteous golden-haired " widow's daughter of the glen " —
was fortunately reserved to yield delight to the ingenious curiosity
of a later ago.
The Shepherd's Calendar was published at Gabriel Harvey's
instance, and was dedicated to Sir Philip Sidney. It was one out
of many poetical schemes on which the young poet was busy in the
flush of conscious power and high hopes excited by the admii-atiou
of the literary authorities whose approval was then most to be
coveted. His letters to Harvey and Harvey's letters to him fur-
nish hints for a very engaging fancy picture of Spenser at this
stage of his life, — looking at the world through rose-coloured
spectacles, high in favoui" with Sidney and Leicester, dating his
letters from Leicester House, gaily and energetically discussing the
technicalities .of his art, with some provision from his powerful
friends — certain, but the form of it delightfully uncertain, — going
to court in the train of Leicester, growing pointed beard and
mustachios of 'fashionable shape, and frightening his ever-vigilant
friend and mentor Harvey by the light courtier-like tone of his
references to women. The studious pastoral poet from "north •
parts" had blossomed with surprising rapidity in the image of the
gay fortune -seeking adventurers who ^crowded the court of the
virgin queen in those stirring times.- Some of the poems which
he mentions to Harvey as then completed or on the anvil — his
Dreams, his Nine Comedies, his Dying Pelican, and his Slemmala
Dudlciana (singing the praises of the noble family which was be-
friending him) — have not been preserved, at least in any form that
can be certainly identified. He had sent Harvey a portion of the
Faerij Queen, which he was eager to continue ; but Harvey did not
think much of it — a judgment for which Harvey is often ridiculed
as a dull pedant, as if we knew for certain that what was suTjinitted
to him was identical with what was published fen years later.
Spenser was appointed secretary to the lord-deputy of
Ireland in 1580, and was one of the band of adventurers
who, with mixed motives of love of excitement, patriotism,
piety, and hopes of forfeited estates, accompanied ■ Lord
Arthur Grey of Wilton to Ireland to aid in the suppression
of Desmond's rebellion. Regret is sometimes e.xpressed
that the author of the Faery Queen, who ought to have
been dreamy, meditative, gentle, and refined, should have
been found in such company, and should have taken part
in the violent and bloody scenes of Lord Grey's two years'
attempt at " pacification." But such things must be
judged with reference to the circumstances and the spirit
of the time, and it must be remembered that England
was then engaged in a fierce struggle for existence against
the Catholic powers of the Continent. Of Lord Grey's
character his secretary was an enthusiastic admirer, ex-
hibiting him in the Faery Queen as Arthcgal, the personi-
fication of justice; and we know exactly what were his
own views of Irish policy, and how strongly he deplored
that Lord Grey was not permitted to carry them out.
Spenser's -View of the State of Ireland, drawn up after
fourteen years' experience, is not the work^of a gentle
dreamer, but of an energetic and shrewd public official.
The View is not a descriptive work ; there is nothing in the
style to indicate that it was written by a poet ; it is an elaborate
state paiier, the exposition in the form of a dialogue of a minutely
considered plan for the pacification of Ireland, written out of zeal
for the public service for the eyes of the Government of the d.iy.
A very thoroughgoing ]ilan it is. After passing in review the
history and character of the Irish, their laws, customs, religion,
habits of life, armour, dress, social institutions, and finding "evil
usages" in ever}' department, he propounds his plan of "reforma-
tion." Reformation can be effected only by the sword, by tho
strong Iwnd. The interlocutor in the dialogue holds up his handa
in horror. Docs he propose extermination ? D^' no means ; but
lie would give tho Irish a choice between submission and exter-
mination. Tho Government had vacillated too long, and, fearing
tho cost of a thorough operation, had spent twice as much without
» See Mr Orosai-t's Complete Worlu o/ Spenser, vol. i.
xxn. - Eo
394
S P E N S E K
in any way mending matters. Let them send into Ireland 10,000
foot and 1000 horse, disperse them in garrisons — a complete scheme
of localities is submitted,— give the Irish twenty days to come iu ;
if they did not come in then, give no quarter afterwards, but hunt
them down like wild beasts in the mnter time when tie covert
is thin; "if they be well followed one winter, ye shaU have
little work to do with them the next summer " ; famine would
complete the work of the sword ; and in eighteen months' time
peace would be restored and the ground cleared for plantation by
English colonists. There must be no flinching in the execution of
this plan, — " no remorse or drawing back for the sight of any such
rueful object as must thereupon foUow, nor for compassion of their
calamities, seeing that by no other means it is possible to recover
them, and that these are not of wiU but of very urgent necessity.'
The Government had out of foolish compassion diawn back before
when Lord Grey had brought the recalcitrant Irish to the necessary
extremity of famine ; the gentle poet warns them earnestly against
n repetition of the blunder.
Such was Spensers plan for the pacification of Ireland,
propounded not on his own authority, but as having
support in "the consultations and actions of very wise
governors and counsellors, whom he had sometimes heard
treat thereof." He knew that it was " bloody and cruel ";
but he contended passionately that it was necessary for
the 'maintenance of English power and the Protestant
religion. Commentary on the plan, which has been so
much and so warmly discussed, would be out of place here.
The method was repugnant to the kindly nature of aver-
age Englishmen ; from the time of Lord Grey no English
authority had the heart to go through with it till another
remorseless zealot appeared in the person of Cromwell.
That Cromwell knew the treatise of " the sage and serious
Spenser," perhaps through Milton, is probable from the
fact that the poet's Irish estates were secured to his
grandson by the Protector's intervention in 1657. These
estates had been granted to Spenser as his share Ih the
redistribution of Munster, — 3000 acres of land and Kilcol-
man castle, an ancient seat of the Desmonds, in the north
of the county of Cork. The elaborate and business-like
character of the Vieiv shows that the poet was no sinecur-
ist, but received his reward for substantial political ser-
vices. He ceased to be secretary to the lord-deputy when
Lord Grey was recalled in 1582 ; but he continued in the
public service, and in 1586 was promoted to the onerous
position of clerk to the council of Munster.
Amidst all the distractions of his public life in Ireland,
Spenser seems to have proceeded steadily with the com-
position of the Faery Queen, translating his varied ex-
perience of men and affairs into the picturesque forms of
his allegory, and expressing through them his conception
of the immutable principles that ought to regulate human
conduct. He had, as we have seen, conceived a work of
tlie kind and made a beginning before he left England.
The conception must have been very much deepened and
widened and in every way enriched by his intimate daily
contact with the actual struggle of conflicting individuals
and interests and policies in a great crisis. Some four or
five years later, being asked in a mixed company of English
ofiicials in Ireland (as recorded in Lodowick Bryskett's
Discourse of Civil Life) to give offhand a short sketch of
" the ethical part of moral philosophy " and the practical
uses of the study, Spenser explained to these simple-
minded men that the subject was too intricate for an im-
ipromptu exposition, but that he had in hand a work called
the Faery Queen in which an ethical system would be ex-
hibited iu action. The respect paid by his official brethren
jto Spenser as a man, " not only perfect in the Greek
Jtongue, but also very well read in philosophy, both moral
and natural," is an interesting item in his biography.
'Some years later still, when Spenser was settled at Kil-
colman castle. Sir Walter Raleigh found him with three
books of the Faery Queen completed, and urged him 'to
come with them to Loudon. London accoraingly he re-
visited in 1589, after nine years' absence. There is a very
pretty record of this visit in Colin Clout's Come Homi
Again, published in 1595, but written in 1591, immediately
after his return to KUcolman. The incidents of the visit,
by that time matters of wistful memory, are imaged as a
shepherd's excursion from his quiet pastoral life into the
great world. Colin Clout calls round him once again the
masked figures of the Shepherd's Calendar, and describes
to them what he saw, how he fared, and whom he met at
the court of Cynthia, and how through the influence of "the
Shepherd of the Ocean " he was admitted at timely hours
to play on his oaten pipe in the great queen's presence.
How much is pure fiction and how much veiled fact in
this picture cannot now be distinguished, but it is un-
doubted that Spenser, though his' chief patrons Leicester
and Sidney were now dead, was very graciously received
by the great world on his return to London. Not only
did the queen grant him an audience, but many ladies of
the court, several of whom he afterwards honoured with
dedications, honoured him with their patronage. The
first three books of the Faery Queen, which were entered
at Stationers' Hall on the 1st December 1589, were pub-
lished in 1590, and he was proclaimed at once with re^
markable unanimity by all the writers of the time as the
first of living poets.
From the first week of its publication the literary world has con-
tinued unanimous about the Faery Queen, except on miuor points.'
None of our great poets has been welcomed with such univereal
acclaim and upheld without loss of favour through so many changes
of fashion. When romanticism was at its lowest ebb Pope read
Spenser iu his old age with as much delight as in his boyhood. He
speaks himself of having had his detractors, of having suffered from
the venomous tooth of the Blatant Beast, and he seems to have ha<l
in more than ordinary share the poet's sensitiveness to criticism ;
but the detractors or indifferentists have generally been found
among men who, like the lord high treasurer Burghley, have no
liking for poetry of any kind. The secret of Spenser's enduring
popularity with poets and lovers of poetry lies specially iu this
that he excels in the poet's peculiar gift, the instinct for verbal
music. Shakespeare, or the author of the sonnet usually assigned
to him, felt and expressed this when he drew the parallel betweeu
" music and sweet poetry " —
" Thou lovest ^o hear the sweet melodious Bound
That Pliccbus' lute, the queen of music, makes ;
And I in deep delight am chiefly droxpned
Whenas himself to singing ho hetakes."
This Is an early word in criticism of Spenser, and it is the last
word about his prime and unquestionable excellence, — a word in
which all critics must agree. Whether he had imagination in the
highest degree or only luxuriant fancy, and whether he could tell
a story in the highest epic manner or only put together a richly
varied series of picturesque incidents, are disputable points ; but
about the enchantment of his verse there can be no difference of
opinion. It matteis not in the least that he gains his melody often
by archaic affectations, licences of dicticm that should make Dr
Richard Morris "stare and gasp"; tlipre, however purchased, the
marvellously rich music is. In judging of the structure of the
Faery Qtuxn we must always remember that, long and diffuse as it
is, what we have is but a fragment of the poet's design, and that
the narrative is regulated by an allegorical purpose ; but, however
intricate, however confused, the reader may feel the succession of
incidents to he, when he studies the succession of incidents, it is
only at the call of duty that he is likely to occupy himself with
such a study iu reading Spenser.
The ethical value of the allegory has been very vanously esti-'
mated. The world would probably never have divined that there
was any allegory if ha had not himself drawn attention to it in a
prose dedication and in doggerel headings to the cantos. It was
apparently at his friend Raleigh's suggestion that the poet conde-
scended to explain his ethical purpose ; otherwise it would havs
been as problematical as the similar intention iu the case of the
Jdtjls of the King before that intention was expressly declared. It
is almost to be regretted, as far as the allegory is concerned, that
the friendly "E. K." was not employed to furnish a "glosse" to
the Faery Queen as he had done to the Shepherd's Calendar, Un-
doubtedly the peculiar " poetic luxury" of the Faery Queen, can bo
enjoyed without any reference to the allegory ; even Professor
Dowden, the most eloquent champion of Spenser's claims as a
"teacher," admits that it is a mistake to look for minute corre-
spondence between outward symbol and underlying sense, and that
the DOPt is least enjoyable where he is most ingenious. Still th*
S P E — S P E
395
allegory grtvrriM t)i^ struolurc of l)to poom, an'T Spenser himsolf
attached creat importanrp to it as dctertnininj; his position among
poets. Tlic cthieal purpose ia distinctive of tlie poem as a wliole ;
it WIS foremost in Spenser's mind when lie conceived the scheme
of the poem, and prcwnt vnth him as he built np and articulated
the skeleton ; it was in this respect that he claimed to have "ovcr-
|>assed " his avowed models Ario^to and Tasso. If we wish to get
nn idea of Spenser's imaginative force and abundance, or to see his
creations as he saw them, we must not neglect the allegory. It is
obvious from all that he says of his own work that in his eyes the
ethical meaning not only heightened the interest of the marvellously
rich pageant or heroes and heroines, enchanters and monsters, but
wa.s the one thing that redeeined it from romantic commonplace.
For the right appreciation of many of the characters and incidents
n knowledge of the allegory is indispensable. For example, the
slaughter of Error by the Red Cross knight would be merely dis-
gusting but for its symbolic character; the iron Talus and his iron
flail is a revolting and brutally cruel monster if he is not regarded
as an image of the executioner of righteous law ; the Blatant Beast,
a purely grotesque and ridiculous monster to outward view, ac-
quires a serious interest when he is known to be an impersonation
of malignant detraction.
After the publication of the Faery Queen S}ienser seems
to have remained in London for more than a year, to enjoy
his triumph. It might be supposed, from wliat he makes
the Shepherd of the Ocean say in urging Colin Clout to
quit his banishment in Ireland, that Raleigh had encour-
aged him to expect some permanent provision in London.
[f he had any such hopes they were disappointed. The
thrifty queen granted him a pension of £50, which was
paid in February 1.591, but nothing further was done for
iiim. Colin Clout's explanation that the selfish scrambling
and intriguing of court life were not suited to a lowly
shepherd swain, and that he returned to country life with
relief, may be pastoral convention, or it may have been
'". expression of the poet's real feelings on his return to
ICilcolman, although as a matter of fact there seems to
have been as much scrambling for good things in Munster
as in London. Certain it is that ho did return to Kilcol-
raan in the course of the year 1591, having probably
first arranged for the publication of Daphnaida and Com-
plainis. Daphnaida is a pastoral elegy on the death of
the niece of the mistress of the robes. The fact implied
in the dedication that he was not personally known to the
lady has more than once provoked the solemn remark
that the poet's grief was assumed. Of course it was
assumed ; and it is hardly less obvious that sincerity of
personal emotion, so far from being a merit in the artificial
forms of pastoral poetry, the essence of which lies in its
dreamy remoteness from real life, would be a blemish and
a discord. Any suggestion of the poet's real personality
breaks the charm ; once raise the question of the poet's
jjersonal sincerity and the pastoral poem may at once be
thrown aside. The remark applies to all Spenser's minor
poetry, including his love-.sonnets ; the reader who raises
the question whether Spenser really loved his mistress
may have a talent for disputation but none for the full
enjoyment of hyperbolical poetry. Complaints, also pub-
lished in 1591, is a miscellaneous collection of poems
Nvritten at different periods. The volume contained The
Ruins of Time ; The Tears of the Mtises ; Virgil's Gnat ;
Mother nuhhanVs Tale; The Ruins of Rome ; Muiopotmos;
Visions of the Worl'Ts Vaniti/ ; Bellai/s Visions; Petrarch's
Visions. Some of these pieces are translations already
alluded to and interesting only as the exercises of one of
our greatest masters of melodious verse ; but two of them,
The Tears of the Afuses and 3fother Hubbard's Tale, have
greater intrinsic interest. The first is the complaint of
the decay of learning alluded to in Midsummer Night's
Dream, v. 1, 52 —
" T}f ""''<^e three Muses mourning for the death
Of Learning late deceased in beggary."
The lament, at a time when the Elizabethan drama was
"me«ing its mighty youth," was not so happy as some
of Spenser's political proiihecic.-! in his View of Ireland ;
but it is idle work to try to trace the undercurrents and
per.sonal allusions in such an occasional pampldet. Mother
IhdibanVs Tale, a fable in Chaucerian couplets, shows a
keenness of satiric force not to be paralleled in any other
of Spenser's writings, and suggests that he left the court
in a mood very different from Colin Clout's.
Spenser returned to London probably in 1595. He had
married in the interval a lady whose Christian name was
Elizabeth,— Mr Grosart .says Elizabeth Boyle. The mar-
riage, celebrated on the 11th of June 1594, was followed
by a rapid succession of publications. The first was a
volume (entered at Stationers' Hall, Itth November 1594,
published 1595) containing the Amoretti, a series of ex-
quisite sonnets commemorative of the moods and incidents
of his courtship, and the magnificent Epithalamion, in-
comparably the finest of his minor poems. As in the case
of the Complaints, the publisher for obvious reasons issued
this volume nominally without his authority. Colin Clout 's
Come Home Again was published in the same year, with
a dedication to Sir Walter. Raleigh, dated 1591. Early in
1596 the second three books of the Faery Queen were
entered in the register of Stationers' Hall"; and in the
course of the same year were published his Four Hymns,
his Prothalamion, and his Astrophel, a pastoral lament for
Sir Philip Sidney, which he dedicated to the countess of
Essex.
That Spenser wrote more of the Faery Queen during
the last two years of his life, and that the JIS. perished
in the sack of Kilcolman castle by the rebels, may plausibly
be conjectured, but cannot be ascertained. During those
years he would seem to have been largely occupied with
political and personal cares. He describes himself in the
Prothalamion as a disappointed suitor at court. He drew
up his View of Ireland in 1596 when he was in London,
and from various circumstances it is evident that he had
hopes of some kind from the favour of Essex. The View,
with its urgent entreaty that Essex should be sent to Ire-
land, was entered at Stationers' Hall in April 1598, but
he did not obtain leave to publish it. Burghley, who had
long stood in his way, died in August of that year, and
next month Sjjenser was appointed sheriff of Cork. In
October Tyrone's rebellion broke out, and Spenser's house
was sacked and burned. The poet himself escaped, and in
December was sent to London with despatches. Again he
ventured to urge apon the queen his plan for the thorough
"reformation" of Ireland. But his own end was near.
On 16th January 1599 he died at Westminster, ruined in
fortune, if not heart-broken, and was buried in Westminster
Abbey, near his master Chaucer.
There have been many editions of Spenser's works. The most
available and complete is the Globe edition, with a carefully edited
text by Dr R. llorris, and a memoir by Professor J. \V. Hales.
Mr Grosart's edition, with its keenly argumentative biograjihy and
copious collection of variorum researches and critical oiiinioiis, is
printed for private circulation.' (W. M. )
SPERMACETI is a solid waxy body found in special
cavities in the head of the sperm whale {Physeter viarro-
eephalus), where it is held in solution by sperm oil while
the creature is in life. At a temperature of about 6° C.
the solid matter separates in a crystalline condition, and
%vhen purified by pressure and treatment with weak solu-
tion of caustic alkali it forms brilliant white crystalline
scales or plates, hard but unctuous to the touch, and desti-
tute of taste or smell. It is quite insoluble in water, very
slightly affected by boiling alcohol, but easily dissolved in
ether, chloroform, and carbon bisulphide. Spermaceti
consists principally of cctin or cctyl palniitatc, c" ii ' ^'
— an ether composed of cetyl alcohol combined with palmi-
tic acid. Spermaceti candles of definite size are em]>loycd
396
S P E — S P E
as a standard for illuminants on account of the uniform
steady ligbt they afiford. . The substance is further used
in the dressing of fabrics and in medicine and surgery,
especially in cerates, bougies, ointments, and in cosmetic
preparations. For sperm oil, see Whale Oils.
SPEUSIPPUS, son of Eurymedon and Potone, is sup-
posed to have been born about 407 B.C. He, was bred in ■
the school of Isocrates ; but, when his maternal uncle,
Plato, returned to Athens about 387, he yielded to his
influence and became a member of the Academy. In 361,
when Plato undertook his third and last journey to Sicily,
Speusippus accompanied him. In 347 the dying philo-
sopher nominated his nephew to succeed him as scholarch,
and the choice was ratified by the school. Speusippus
held the office for eight years, and died in 339 after a
paralytic seizure. According to some authorities he com-
mitted suicide. There is a story that his youth was riotous,
until Plato's example led him to reform his ways. In later
life he was conspicuously tempersjte and amiable. He was
succeeded by Xenocrates.
Of Speusippus's many philosophical writings nothing
survives except a fragment of a treatise On Pythagorean
Numbers. Nor have secondary authorities preserved to us
any general statement or conspectus of his system. In-
cidentally, however, we learn the following details. (A) In
regard to his theory of being, — (1) whereas Plato postu-
lated as the basis of his system a cause which should be
at once Unity, Good, and Mind, Speusippus distinguished
Unity, the origin of things, from Good, their end, and
both Unity and Good from controlling "^Mind or Reason ;
(2) whereas Plato recognized three kinds of numbers —
firstly, ideal numbers, the formal causes of the ideas ;
secondly, mathematical numbers, the abstractions of
mathematics ; and thirdly, sensible numbers, numbers em-
bodied in, things — Speusippus rejected the ideal numbers,,
and consequently the ideas; (3) Speusippus traced number,
magnitude, and soul each to a distinct principle of its own.
(B) In regard to his theory of knowledge, — (4) he held
that a thing cannot be known apart from the knowledge
of all things besides ; for, that we may know what a
thing is, we must know how it difi"ers from oiher things,
which other things must therefore be known ; (5) accord-
ingly, in the ten books of a work called "0/noia, he
attempted a classification of plants and animals ; (6) the
results thus obtained he distinguished at once from "know-
ledge" (eTTicTTiJ/ivj) and from "sensation" (aicrSijo-t?), hold-
ing that "scientific observation" (fTrtcmj/iovt/c?) ala-Omi'i),
though it cannot attain to truth, may nevertheless, in virtue
of a certain acquired tact, frame "definitions" (Aoyoi).
(C) In regard to his theory of ethics,— (7) he denied that
pleasure. was a good, but seemingly was not prepared to
accoimt it an evU.
In default of direct evidence, it remains for us to com-
pare these scattered notices of Speusippus's teaching with
jWhat we know of its original, the teaching of Plato, in
the hope of obtaining at least a general notion, firstly,
of Speusippus's system, and, secondly, of its relations to
the systems of Plato, of contemporary Platonists, such as
Aristotle, and of the later Academy.-
It has been suggested elsewhere (Socrates, p. 238 supra)
that the crude and unqualified "realism" of Plato's early
manhood gave place in his later years to a theory of natural
kinds founded upon a "thoroughgoing idealism," and that
in this way he was led to recognize and to value the classi-
ficatory sciences of zoology and botany. More exactly, it
may be said that the Platonism of Plato's maturity included
the following principal doctrines : — (i.) the supreme cause
of all existence is the One, the Good, Mind, which evolves
itself as the universe under certain eternal immutable
'orms called "ideas"; (ii.) the idea: are apprehended by
finite minds as particulars in space and time, and are then
called "things"; (iii.) consequently the particulars which
have in a given idea at once their origin, their being, and
their perfection may be regarded, for the purposes of
scientific study, as members of a natural kind ; (iv.) the
finite mind, though it cannot directly appreliend the idea,
may, by the study of the particulars in which the idea is
revealed, attain to an approximate notion of it.
Now when Speusippus (1) discriminated the One, the
Good, and Mind, (2) denied the Ideas, and (3) abandoned
the attempt to unify the plurality of things, he explicitly
rejected the theory of being expressed in (i.) and (ii.) ; and
the rejection of the theory of being, i.e., of the conception
of the One evolving itself as a plurality of ideas, entailed
consequential modifications in the theory of knowledge
conveyed in (iii.) and (iv.). For, if the members of a
natural kind had no common idea to unite them, scientific
research, having nothing objective in view, could at best
afford a Aoyos or definition of the appropriate particulars ;
and, as the discrimination of the One and the Good im-
plied the progression of particulars towards perfection,
such a Adyos or definition could have only a temporary
value. Hence, though, like Plato, Speusippus (4) studied
the differences of natural products (5) with a view to
classification, he did not agree with Plato in his conception
of the significance of the results thus obtained ; that is to
say, while to Plato the definition derived from the study
of the particulars include^ in a natural kind was an ap-
proximate definition of the idea in which the natural kind
originated, to Speusippus the definition was a definition of
the particulars studied, and, strictly speaking, of nothing
else. Thus, while Plato hoped to ascend through classic
catory science to the knowledge of eternal and immutable
laws of thought and being, Speusippus, abandoning onto-
logical speculation, was content to regard classificatory
science not as a means but as an end, and (6) to rest in the
results of scientific observation. In a word, Speusippus
turned from philosophy to science.
It may seem strange that, differing tnus widely from
his master, Speusippus should have regarded himself and
should have been regarded by others as a Platonist, and
still more strange that Plato should have chosen him to bo
his successor. It is to be observed, however, firstly, that
the scientific element occupied a larger place in Plato's
later system than is generally supposed,' and, secondly,
that the only Academics who came into competition with
Speusippus agreed with him in his rejection of the theory
of ideas. Hence Plato, finding in the school no capable
representative of his ontological theory, might well Choose
to succeed him a favourite pupil whose scientific enthusiasm
and attainment were beyond question ; and Speusippus's
rivals, having themselves abandoned the theory of ideas,
would not be in a position to tax hira with his piiilosophi-
cal apostasy.
In abandoning the theory of ideas — that is to -say,, the
theory of figures and numbers, the possessions of universal
mind, eternally existent out of space and time, which
figures and numbers when they pass into space and time
as the heritage of finite minds are regarded as things —
Speusippus had the approval, as of the Platonists gener-
all}', so also of Aristotle. But, whereas the new scholarch,
confining himself to the detailed examination of natural
kinds, attempted no comprehensive explanation of the uni-
verse, Aristotle held that a theory of its origin, its motions,
' That Plato did not neglect, but rather encouraged, classificatory
science is shown, not only by a well-known fragment of the comic poet
Epicrates, which describes a party of Academics engaged in investi-
gating, under the eye of Plato, the affinities of the common pumpkin,
but also by the Timeeus, which, while it carefully discriminates science
from ontology, plainly recognizes th° imp^Hance of the study of
patural kinds.
S P E — S P H
397
and its order was a necessary adjunct to the classificatory
sciences ; and in nearly all his references to Speusiiijius
he insists upon this fundamental difference of procedure.
Conceiving that the motions of the universe and its parts
are due to the desire which it and they feel towards the
supreme external mind, so that the cosmical order is initial
in the divine mind, final in the phenomenal universe,
Aristotle supposes himself thus to secure the requisite
unification of the variety of things. Contrariwise, when
Speusippus distinguishes One, Good, and Mind, so that
Jlind, not as yet endowed with an orderly scheme, adapts
the initial One to a variety of particular Goods, his theory
of nature ajjpears to his rival "episodical," i.e., to consist
of a series of tableaux wanting in dramatic unity, so that
it reminds him of Homer's line — oiV aya^ui' TroXvKoipaviij •
(h Koi'pai'o? co-To). _ The theory propounded by Aristotle
himself is not perhaps impeccable in this respect, but at
any rate he does not, like Speusippus, despair of a solution
of the traditional problem of the One and the Many.
Speusippus and his contemporaries in the .school exer-
cised an important and far-reaching influence upon Aca-
demic doctrine. When they, the immediate successors of
Plato, rejected their master's ontology and proposed to
themselves as ends mere classificatory sciences which with
him had been means, they bartered their hope of philo-
SQphic certainty for the tentative and provisional results of
scientific experience. Xenocrates indeed, identifying ideal
and mathematical numbers, sought to shelter himself under
the authority of Plato ; but, as the Xenocratean numbers,
though professedly ideal a.s well as mathematical, were iu
fact mathematical only, this return to the Platonic termino-
logy was no more than an empty form. It would seem,
then, that Academic scepticism began with those who had
been reared by Plato himself, having its origin in their
acceptance of the .scientific element of his teaching apart
from the ontology which had been its basis. In this way,
and, so far as the present writer can see, in this way only,
it is possible to understand the extraordmary revolution
which converted Platonism, philosophical and dogmatic,
into Academicism, scientific and sceptical. It is as the
ofiBcial representative of this scientific and sceptical depart-
ure that Speusippus is entitled to a place in the history
of philosophy.
Bibliorjraphij.—3 . G. P. Ravaisson, Speusippi de priviis rerum
principiis placita, Palis, 1838 ; Clir. Aug. Braiidis, Gcsch. d. Griech-
isch-Roinischtn Philosophic, Berlin, 1S53, II. ii. 1, pp. 6-19 ; Zeller,
Die Philosophie d. Gricckcn, Leipsic,1875, II. i. 859, 840, 847-862 ;
MuIIach, Fiagmtnla Philosophorum Orascoruin, Paris, 1881, iii.
62-99. (H. JA.)
SPEY, a river in the north of Scotland, rises in the
south-east of Inverness-shire from a small tarn called Loch
Spey, 5 miles east of the Caledonian Canal, and flows
north-eastwards by Kingussie to Grantown in Elgin-shire,
10 miles below which it reaches Banffshire. After forming
for about 15 miles the boundary between Elginshire and
Banffshire, it again enters the former county, through
which it flows for about 10 miles past Fochabers to the
Moray Firth. In the earlier part of its course it is fed by
a large numbei: of mountain streams, its principal tribu-
taries being, in Inverness-shire, the Tromio and the Feshie
from the right and the Dulnain from the left, and on the
boundaries of Banff and Elgin the Avon (Avon) and the
Fiddich from' the right. Its entire length is 90 miles, and
it drains an area of about 1200 square miles. The flow of
the river is very rapid, and, being fed largely by mountain
streams, it is subject to sudden freshets, which sometimes
occasion extensive floods, the greatest being that of 1829.
The Spey is, next to the Tay and the Tweed, the most
important salmon river in Scotland. The scenery in its
upper courses is occasionally bare and bleak, but some-
times finely picturesque, especially whore, as in Elginsliiro
and Banffshire, its bold and rocky banks aia clothed by
forests of birch and pine.
See L. Shaw, Histonj of tlic Province of Moray {1st c.I. 1775, SJ
ed. 1882), ami Sir Thomas Iiiik Lauder, Accoind 0/ the Moray
Flooih (Ist cil. 1830, 4tli ed. 1S73).
SPEZIA, a city of Italy, in the province of Genoa, 56
miles south-east of Genoa by the railway to Pisa, which
has become since the unification of the kingdom one of
the principal Italian ports and the seat of a great Govern-
ment arsenal. It is situated at the north-west angle of
the Gulf of Spezia, formerly known as Lunaj Portus, the
western side of which is formed by a rocky promontory
about 4 miles long, terminating in the picturesque little
town of Portovenere and the islands of Palraaria and Tino.
A great breakwater, constructed about 1860, stretches across
the gulf from Santa ilaria Point to Santa Teresa Point
for a distance of 7220 feet; and the outer harbour to
the south-west of the town, excavated in 186.^ to a depth
of 32. feet, has an area of 247 acres. The arsenal has a
length of 3937 feet and an average breadth of 24C0 feet.
The first dock covers an area of 20 acres and the second
17 acres ; and there are besides two careening basins, 433
and 354 feet long. Farther south lie the extensive mili-
tary establishments of San Vito, with storehouses, reser-
voir, etc. ; and almost right opposite, on the other side of the
gulf, are the dock {\\ acres), shipbuilding yards, and repair-
ing docks of San Bartolomeo. Some of the largest vessels
of the Italian navy have been constructed at Spezia. As
a commercial centre Spezia suffers from the lack of railway
communication with the interior, — the range of the Apen-
nines lying between it and the more productive regions of
Northern Italy. The whole movement of the port in 1884
was represented by 38 vessels engaged in foreign trade
(tonnage, 29,251) and 1333 engaged in the coasting trade
(tonnage, 198,447). Though the town itself, with the
barracks and military hospital as its principal buildings,
presents little to attract the foreign visitor, the beauty
of the gulf and of the neighbouring country has brought
Spezia into some repute as a watering-place, and there
are several excellent hotels in the Corso. The walls and
gates of the old city are for the most part destroyed. In
one of the public squares is a statue of Adniiral Chiodo, the
founder of the arsenal. The population of the city was
6105 in 1861 (commune 11,556) and 19,864 in 1881
(commune 30,732).
The origin of Spezia is doubtful ; but it probably rose after the
destmction of Luna. Sold by one of the Fieschi in 1276 to Genoa,
the town was fortified by its uew possessors and made the seat of a
governor of some importance. It became a city in the 16th cen-
tury. The idea of making the Gulf of Spezia a great unval centre
was first broaclicd by Napoleon I.
SPHEROMETER, an instrument for the precise mea-
surement of the radius of a sphere or the thickness of a
thin plate. The usual form consists of a fine screw moving
in a nut carried on the centre of a small three-legged table.
The lower end of the screw and those of the table legs are
finoJy tapered and terminate in hemispheres, so that each
rests on a point. If the screw has two turns of the thread
to the millimetre, the head is usually divided into 500
equal parts, so that differences of O'OOl millimetre may
bo measured without using a vernier. A vertical scale
fastened to the table indicates the number of whole turns of
the screw and serves as a fixed jjoint for reading the divi-
sions on tho head. In order to measure the thickness of
a plate the instrument is jilaced on a level piano surface
and the screw turned until tho point just touches ; the
exact instant when, it docs so is defined by a sudden
diminution of resistance succeeded by a considerable in-
crease. Tho divided head and scale are read ; the screw
is raised ; tho thin ]dato slipped under it ; and the process
is repeated. _ The difference between the two readings gives
398
S P H — S P I
the required thickness. A contact-lever, delicate level, or
electric contact arrangement may be attached to the sphero-
meter in order to indicate the moment of touching more
precisely than is possible by the sense of touch. To mea-
sure the radius of a sphere — e.g., the curvature of a lens —
the spherometer is levelled and read, then placeji on the
sphere, adjusted until the four points exert equal'pressure,
and read again. The difference gives the thickness of that
portion of the sphere cut off by a plane passing through
the three feet ; and, since the feet are equidistant, this dis-
tance (a) being known gives the value (i?) of the radius
from the formula 1R = — -^-h, -where h is the thickness of
on,
the lenticular segment. The well spJierometer ^ is adapted
for measuring small spherical lenses. The true plane on
which the instrument stands is perforated by a cylindrical
well of known diameter. A plate applied to the lower
edge of the well by a spring is adjusted to be parallel to
the large plane, and the spherometer screw, being centred
over the well, is run down until it touches the jjlate, and
then read. The plate is removed; the lens put in its
place; the point — still accurately centred — is brought
down ; and the screw is read again. The difference be-
tween these readings gives the height of the section of the
lens above the lower edge of the well. Calling this height
h and the radius of the cylindrical well r, the radius R of
the sphere is got by the formula 2R=j + h. The sphero-
meter can be applied to test the sphericity of a globe,
and may be used on either a convex or a concave surface.
SPHINX, a hybrid creature of Egyptian and Greek art
and mythology. • In Egypt the sphinxes are colossal images
of granite or porphyry, with a human head and breast and
the body of a lion (wingless) lying down. The largest
and most fammis is that of Gizeh, described in vol. vii.
p. 772. The head of the sphinx is usually that of a man,
but female heads are said to occur occasionally. From
Egypt the figure of the sphinx passed to Assyria, where
it appears with a bearded male head on cylinders ; the
female sphinx, lying down and furnished with wiags, is
first found in the palace of Esarhaddon (7th century b.c).
Sphinxes have been found in Phoenicia, one at least being
■winged and another bearded. In Asia Minor an ancient
female sphinx, but -wingless, stands on the sacred road
near Miletus. Sphinxes of the usual Greek tj-pe (female
heads with bodies of -winged lions) are represented seated
on each side of two doorways in an ancient frieze found
by Sir Charles Eellowes at Xanthus in Lycia, and now in
the British Museum. The same type appears on the early
sculptures of the temple at Assus. In the early art of
Cyprus — that half-way house between Asia and Greece —
sphinxes of this type are not uncommon. On the other
liand, on a gem of Phoenician style found at Curiam in
Cyprus there appear two male (bearded) sphinxes, -with
the tree of life between them. With regard to Greece
proper, in the third tomb on the acropolis of Mycense were
found six small golden sphinxes ; they are beardless, but
the sex is doubtful In the ancient tomb discovered in 1877
at Spata near Athens (which represents a kindred but
somewhat later art than the tombs at Mycense) were found
female wiaged sphinxes carved in ivory or bone. Sphinxes
on glass plates have been found in graves at Camirus in
Rhodes and on gold plates in Crimean graves. Sphinxes
were represented on the throne of ApoUo at Amycte ; in
the best period of Greek art a sphinx was sculptured on
the hebnet of the statue of Athene in the Parthenon at
Athens; and sphinxes carrying off children were sculptured
on the front feet of the throne of Zeus at Olympia.
^ A.M. Meyer, in American Jowrnal of Science, IS.S^, xxxiL p. 61.
In Greek mythology the most famous sphinx was thct
of Thebes in Bceotia. She is first mentioned by Hesiod
{Tlieog., 326), who calls her the daughter of Orthus and
ChimiEra. According to Apollonius (iii. 5, 8), she was
the daughter of Typhon and Echidna, and had the face of
a woman, the feet and tail of a lion, and the wings of a
bird. She dwelt on a bald rocky mountain at the south-
east corner of the Copaic lake ; the name of the mountain
was Phicium (now Fagas), which was derived from Phis,
the yEolic fc rm of sphinx. The Muses taught her a riddle
and the Thebaus had to guess it. WTienevef they faUed
she carried one of them off" and devoured him. The riddle
was this : What is that which is four-footed, three-footed,
and two-footed ? At last CEdipus guessed correctly that
it was man ; for the child crawls on hands and feet, the
adult walks upright, and the old man supports his stejis
-with a stick. Then the sphinx threw herself down from
the mountain.
The story of the sphinx's riddle first occurs in the Greek tragedians.
Milclihofer believes that the story was a mere invention of Greek
fancy, an attempt to interpret the mysterious figure which Greek
art had borrowed from the East. On the other hand, he holds that
the destroying nature of the sphinx was much oiaer, and he refei'S
to instances in both Egyptian and Greek art where a sphinx is seen
seizing and standing upon a man. And, whereas the Theban legend
is but sparingly illustrated in Greek art, the figure of the sphinx
appears more commonly on tombs, sculptured either iii the round
or in relief. From this Milchhofer seems to infer that the sphinx
-vras a sjnnbol of death. The word "sphinx" is Greek, being derived
from <r<l>iyyw, "to draw tight."
See Brugsoh, History of Egypt, vol. i. pp. 79 sq., 414 sq. ; Cesnola, Cyfms,
pp. 110, 114 sq., 263 sq.. and plate xxxA-ii. No. 13; Scliliemaun, Mycenje, pf
xlv., 1S4 ; and especially Milchhofer, iu Mitth, d, dcutsch, arxhdol. Instil, iti
Athen, 1S79, p. 46 sq.
SPHYGMOGRAPH. See Vascular System.
SPICE ISLANDS. See Moluccas.
SPIDER. See Arachnida, vol ii. p. 290 sq.
SPIKENARD, or Nard (Hebrew nerd; Gr. vo'/oSos,
from Sanskrit naladuitha, the change from " r " to " 1 "
seeming to indicate that the word came through Persia),*
a celebrated p&rfume which seems to have formed one of
the most durable aromatic ingredients in the costly un-
guents used by the Romans and Eastern nations. The oint-
ment prepared from it ("ointment of pistic nard"^) is
mentioned in the New Testament (Mark xiv. 3-5 ; John
xii. 3-5) as being " very costly," a i:)ound of it being valued
at more than 300 denarii (over £10). This appears to
represent the prices then current for *he best quality of
nard, since Pliny {H.X., sii. 26) mentions that nard apike«
reached as <tiuch as 100 denarii per lb, and, although he
does not mention the price of nard ointment, he states
(xiii. 2) that the " unguentum cinnamominum," a similar
preparation, ranged from ^5 to 300 denarii according to
its quality. Nard ointment also varied considerably in
price from its liability to sophistication (Id., xii. 26, 27 ;
xiii. ■ 2). The ingredients of the genuine ointment {un-
gueiitimh naYdinum sive foliatum), Pliny teUs us (xiii. 2),
were Indian nard, juncus (the leaves of Andropogon Schvn-
anthus, L.), costus (the root of Aplotaxis auricidata, DC),
amomum (the fruits of Amomum Cardamonnm, L.), myrrh
(the gum-resin of Balsamodendron Myrrlia, Nees), balm
(the oleo-resin of Balsamodendron Opobalsamum), onipha-
cium or oleum omphacinum (the oil expressed from unripe
olives), and balaninum (derived from Bal<tnittiscgypttaeai).
Dioscorides (i. 75) also remarks that malabathrum (the leaf
of Cinnamomum Tamala, Nees) was sometimes added. Of
these ingredients oostus and amomum were most relied
upon for increasing the fragrance and the nard for th&
stimulating and other virtues of the unguent.*
' See Pick, in OrieTii u. Occident, iii. p. 364. Th« STriuui »*d
Arabs simply call it " spike " {shehaltd, sunbul) or " the Indian spike.'*
^ The meaning of the word *' pistic " is uncertain, some rendering
it "genuine,'* others "liquid," and others taking it for a local name,
* The use of alabaster vessels for Dreserving these fragrant unguents
S P I — S P I
399
The exact botanical source of the true or Indian nard
was long a matter of uncertaintj', the descriptions given
by ancient authors being somewhat vague. Theophrastus
(De Odor., 28) classes nard amongst roots, and states that
it came' from India (Hist. Plant., is. 7, 2), had a biting
and hot taste, and resembled iris root in perfuming the air
near it {De Odor., 12, 56). He also remarks {I.e., 42) that
the ointment was one of the most durable of perfumes.
Pliny {H.N., xii. 26, 27) gives a somewhat confused ac-
count, from which it appears that both "spike" and leaf
were in use, although it is not clear whether the spike
{spica) consisted of the flower-head or the fibrous lower
portion of the stem. The only definite statement he
makes concerning it is that the "sincere" nard is known
by its red colour, sweet smell, and especially taste, " for it
diieth the tongue and leaveth a pleasant relish behind it."
Dioscorides (i. 6) states that the true nard came from India
and was collected on mountains beside which the river
Ganges flowed. He describes it as blackish with short
spikes, smelling something like cyperus. Linnaeus, Blane,
Hatchett, and other writers have supposed that spikenard
was an Indian grass of the genus Andropogon {A. Nardvs,
L.) ; but Sir W. Jones {As. Res., ii. 416, iv. 97) has given
convincing reasons for identifying it with Nardostachys
Jatamansi,^ a plant of the Valerian order, the fibrous root-
stocks or " spikes " of which are still collefcted in the
mountains of Bhotan and Nepal. Further evidence is
afibrded by Lambert {Illusti: of the Genus Cinchona, App.,
p. 177), who found the root under the name of "spike-
nard " in one of the oldest chemist's shops in London, also
by Dymock {Mat. Med. W. India, 2d ed., p. 347), who
states that the principal use of the drug at the present
time is for making hair washes and ointments, the popular
opinion being that it promotes the growth and blackness
of the hair. ' The name of "spike" applied to the Indian
nard appears to be derived from its resemblance in shape
to a spike or ear of bearded corn. The root is crowned
by the bases of several stems, each about 2 inches or more
in length and as thick as the finger. To these the fibrous
tissue of former leaves adheres and gives them a peculiar
bristly appearance. It is this portion that is chiefly
collected.
Other and inferior varieties of nard are mentioned by Dioscorides
and subserjuent writers. Celtic nard, obtained from the Liguiian
Alps and Istria, consisted of the roots of plants also belonging to
the Valerian order {Valeriana celtica and V. talicina). This was
exported to the East and thence to Egypt, and was used in the
preparation of baths. Mountain nard was collected in Cilicia and
Syria, and is supposed to have consisted of the root of Valeriana
tubcrosa. The false nard of Dauphine, used in later times, and
still employed as a charm in Switzerland, is the root-stock vi Allium
ficlorialis. It presents a singular resemblance to the spikes of
Indian nard, but is devoid of fragrance. It is remarkable that all
the nards belong to the natural order Valcrianacese, the odour of
valerian being considered disagreeable at the present day ; that
of Nardostachys Jatamansi is intermediate between valerian and
patchouli, although more ap^eeable than either.
The name "spikenard" has also been ap]iUed in later times to
several plants. The spikenard of the United States is Aralia
raccmosa, and another species of the same genus, A. nudicaulis, is
knowTi «« " false spikenard." In the West Indies Hr/ptis suavcolms
is called "spikenard," and in Great B'.itain the name "ploughman's
spikenard ' is given to l7iula Conijsa. (E. M. H. )
SPINACH. See HoRiicDLTtniE, vol xii. pp. 285, 288.
SPINAL' CORD. See Physiology, vol. xix. p. 34 sq.
For the diseases affecting the spinal cord, see Ataxy
was customary at a very early peiiod. Tlieophrastus (c. 314 ac. )
states that vessels of lead an'i alabaster were best for the purpose, on
account of their density and coolness, and their power of resisting the
penetration of the ointment into their substance. Pliny also recom-
mends alabaster for ointment vases. For small quantities onyx veswla
seem to have been used (Horace, Carm. iv., 12, 11. 10, 17).
' The plant figured by Sir W. Jones is Valeriana flardxeichii (prob.
ably the inferior Oangetic nard of Dioscorides and the oianitis of
Pliny) ; the tnie plant is figured by Royle and Lambert.
(Locomotoe), Paralysl'*, Pathology (vol xviii. p. 392^,
and Sckgery.
SPIN EL. See Md.t:r alogy, vol. xvi. p. 386, and Eubt.
SPINELLO AHETINO (c. 1330-C.I410), painter, the
son of a Florentine named Luca, who had taken refuge'ia
Arezzo in 1310 when exiled with the rest of the Ghibel-
Hne party, was born at Arezzo about 1330. Spinello was
a pupU of Jacopo di Casentino, a follower of Giotto, and
his own style was a sort of link between the school of
Giotto and that of Siena. In the early part of his life
he worked in Florence as an assistant to his master Jacopo
while painting frescos in the church of the Carmine and
in Sta Maria Novella. Between 1360 and 1384 he was
occupied in painting many frescos in and near Arezzo, |
almost all of which have now perished.^ After the sack
of Arezzo in 1384 Spinello returned to Florence, and in
1387-88 with some assistants covered the walls and vault
of the sacristy of S. Miniato near Florence with a series of
frescos, the chief of which represent scenes from the life of
St Benedict. These still exist, though in a sadly restored
condition ; they are very Giotto-like in composition, but
have sonje of the Siena decorative brilliance of colour. In
1391-92 SpLneUo was painting six frescos, which still re-
main on the south wall of the Pisan Campo Santo, repre-
senting miracles of St Pctitus and St Ephesus. For these
he received 270 gold florins. Among his later works the
chief are the very fiue Series of frescos painted in 1407-8
on the walls and vault of a chapel in the municipal build-
ings of Siena ; these also have stifl"ered much from repaint-
ing, but still are the finest of Spinello's existing frescos.
Sixteen of these represent the war of Frederick Barbarossa
againsl, the republic of Venic^. , Spinello died at Arezzo
about 1410.
Spinello's frescos are all strong and highly decorative works,
drawTi with much spirit, and ai-o very superior in style to his
panel pictures, many of which appear to be mere boltega produc-
tions. The ocademy of Florence possesses a panel of the Madonna
and Saints, which is chiefly interesting for its signature — "Hoc
opus pin.xit Spinellus Luce Aritio D . I . A . 1391." The easel
pictures which are to bo found in the various galleries of Europa
give little or no notion of Spinello's power as a painter.
SPINET. See Pianofoete, vol. xix. p. 67 sq.
SPINNING. See Yaen.
SPINOLA, Ambhogio Spinola, Marcbcese di (c. 1571-
1630), a celebrated general, belonged to a noble and
wealthy Italian family, and was born at Genoa about
1571. After the siege of Ostend had languished for more
than two years under the direction of the archduke Albert,
Spinola, who, though not a soldier by profession, had seen
something of campaigning during a season or two, camo
upon the scene as a condottiere and received charge of the
works. He entered upon his task in October 1603, and
his courage and vigour were rewarded by the surrender
of the place on 20th September 1604. During the next
five years, until the conclusion of the armistice of 1609,
he frequently encountered Maurice of Orange, but on the
whole with undecisive results. In 1620 he was sent by
Spain into the Palatinate of the Rhine, and took many
places; in the following year, on the renewal of the war
with Holland, he returned to the scenes of his earlier
campaigns, where his principal exploits were the capture
of Jiilich in February 1622 and of Breda after a ten
months' siege in June 1625. His health now began to
give way; and his spirits are said to have been further do-
pressed by Philip's disregard of his pecuniary claims. Ho
died at Castel-Nuovo di Scrivia on 25th September 1630.
SPINOZA, Baeuch (1632-1677), or, as he afterwards
signed himself, Benedict de Spinoza, philosopher, was born
at Amsterdam on 24th November 1632. His parents bo-'
' The fine fresco of an Apocolj-ptic scone wliich still exists In Si
Maria dcgli Angcli at Arezzo belongs to about HOO.
40'J
SPINOZA
longed to the community of" Jewish emigrants from Portugal
and Spain who, fleeing from Catholic persecution in the
Peninsula, had sought refuge in the nearly emancipated
Netherlands. The name, variously written De Spinoza,
D'Espinoza, and Despinoza, probably points to the pro-
vince of Leon as the previous home of the family; there
are no fewer than five townships so called in the neigh-
bourhood of Burgos. Of the philosopher's parents nothing
is known. His father is said to have been a tradesman
in fair circumstances, and the house is still sho\^•n upon
the Burgwal where his son Baruch was born ; two sisters,
Rebekah and Miriam, formed the remainder of the family.
Spinoza received his first training under the senior rabbi,
Saul Levi Morteira, whose most promising pupil he soon
became. Under Morteira he became familiar with the
Talmud and, what was probably more important for his
own development, with the philosophical writings of Ibn
Ezra and Maimonides, Levi ben Gerson, Chasdai Creskas,
and other representatives of Jewish mediajval thought,
who aim at combining the traditional theology with ideas
got 'from Aristotle and his Neoplatonic commentators.
Latin, still the universal language of learning, formed no
part of Jewish education; and Spinoza, after learning the
elements from a German master, resorted for further in-
struction to a physician named Franz van den Ende, who
eked out an income by taking pupils. Van den Ende
appears to have been distinctly a man of parts, though
of a somewhat indiscreet and erratic character. He was
eventually hanged in Paris as a conspirator in 1674. His
enthusiasm for the natural sciences may have been the
only ground for the reputation he had acquired of instilling
a'cheistic notions into the miuds of his pupils along with
the Latin which he taught them. But it is quite possible
that his scientific studies had bred in him, as in many
others at that time, a materialistic, or at least a naturalistic,
turn of mind ; indeed we should expect as much in a man
of Van den Ende's somewhat rebellious temperament. We
do not know whether his influence was brought to bear in
this sense upon Spinoza ; but it has been suggested that
the writings of Bruno, whose spirit of enthusiastic natural-
ism and fervid revolt against the church would be
especially dear to a man of Van den Ende's leanings, may
have been put into the pupil's hand by the master. Latin,
at all events, Spinoza learned from Van den Ende to use
vnth correctness, freedom, and force, though his language
does not,- of coiu'se, conform to classical canons. The only
romance of Spinoza's life is connected with Van den Ende's
household. The physician had an only daughter, Clara
Maria by name, who, besides being a proficient in music,
understood Latin, it is said, so perfectly that she was able
to teach her father's pupils in his absence. Spinoza, the
story goes, fell in love with his fair instructress ; but a
fellow-student, called Kerkering, supplanted him in Lis
mistress's affections by the help of a valuable necklace of
pearls which he presented to the young lady. Chronology
unfortunately forbids us to accept this little episode as true.
Recent investigation has proved that, while the marriage
with Kerkering, or rather Kerckkrink, is a fact, it did not
take place till 1671, in which year the bride, as appears
by the register, was twenty-seven years of age. She
cannot, therefore, hare been more than eleven or twelve
iu 1656, the year in which Spinoza left Amsterdam; and
as Kerckkrink was seven years younger than Spinoza,
they cannot well have been simultaneous pupils of Van
den Ende and simultaneous suitors for his daughter's hand.
But, though the details of the story thus fall to pieces, it is
still possible that in the five years which followed his
retirement froip Amsterdam Spinoza, who was living
within easy distance and paid visits to the city from time
to time, may have kept up his connexion wit,h_Van den
Ende, and that the attachment may have dated from thife
later period. This would at least be some explanation for
the existence of the story ; for Colerus expressly says that
Spinoza "often confessed that he meant to marry her '
But beyond possibility we cannot go in the matter.
There is no mention of the Van den Endes in Spinoza's
correspondence; and in the whole tenor of his life and
character there is nothing on which to fasten the prob-
ability of a romantic attachment.
The mastery of Latin which he acquired from Van den
Ende opened up to Spino7.a the whole world of modern
philosophy and science, both represented at that time by
the writings of Descartes. He read him greedilj', sayS
Colerus, and afterwards often declared that he had all hi*
philosophical knowledge from him. The impulse towards
natural science which he had ^-eceived from Van den Ende
would be strengthened by the reading of Descartes; he
gave over divinity, we are told, to devote himself entirely
to these, new studies. His inward break with Jewish
orthodoxy dated, no doubt, farther back, — from his ac-
quaintance with the philosophical theologians and com-
mentators of the Middle Ages; but these new interests
combined to estrange him still further from the traditions
of the synagogue. He was seldomer seen at its services, —
soon not at all. The jealousy of the heads of the synagogue
was easily roused. An attempt seems to have been made
to draw from him his real opinions on certain prominent
points of divinity. Two so-called friends endeavoured, on
the plea of doubts of their own, to lead him into a theo-
logical discussion; and, some of Spinoza's expressions being
repeated to the Je'n'ish authorities, he was summoned to
give an account of himself. Anxious to retain so promising
an adherent, and probably desirous at the same time to
avoid public scandal, the chiefs of the community ofiered
him a yearly pension of 1000 florins if he would outwardly
conform and appear now and then in the synagogue. But
such deliberate hypocrisy was abhorrent to Spinoza's nature.
Threats were equally unavailing, and accordingly on the
27th of July 1656 Spinoza was solemnly cut oft" from the
commonwealth of Israel. The curses pronounced against
him may be read in most of the biographies. AVhile
negotiations were still pending, he had been set upon one
evening by a fanatical ruflfian, who thought to expedite
matters with the dagger. Warned by this that Amsterdam
was hardly a safe place of residence for him any longer,
Spinoza had already left the city before the sentence of
excommunication was pronounced. He did not go far, but
took up his abode with a friend who lived some miles out
on the Old Church road. His host belonged to the Col-
legiants or Rhijnsburgers, a religious society which had
sprung up among the proscribed Arminians of Holland.
The pure morality and simple-minded piety of this com-
munity seem early to have attracted Sjjinoza, and to have
won his unfeigned respect. Several of his friends were
Collegiants, or belonged to the similarly-minded community
of the Mennonites, in which the CoUegianta were after-
wards merged. In this quiet retreat Spinoza spent nearly
five years. He drew up a protest against the decree of
excommunication, but otherwise it left him unmoved.
From this time forward he disused his Hebrew name of
Baruch, adopting instead the Latin equivalent, Benedictus.
Like every Jew, Spinoza had learned a handicraft; he was
a grinder of lenses for optical instruments, and was thus
enabled to earn an income sufficient for his modest wants.
His skill, indeed, was such that lenses of his making were
much sought after, and those found in his cabinet after
his death fetched a high price. It was as an ojitician that
he was first brought into connexion with Huygens and
Leibnitz ; and an optical Treatise on the Rainbow, written
'( by him and long supposed to be lost, has been recently,
SPINOZA
401
discovered and reprinted by Dr Van Vloten. He was also
fond of drawing as an amusement in his leisure hours;
and Colerus had seen a sketch-book full of such drawings
* representing persons of Spinoza's acquaintance, one of
them being a likeness of himseU in the character of
XIasaniello.
The five years whicn followed the eicommunication
roust have been devoted to concentrated thought and study.
Before their conclusion Spinoza had parted company from
Descartes, and the leading positions of his own system
were already clearly determined in his mind. A number
of the younger men in Amsterdam — many of them students
of medicine or medical practitioners — had also come to
regard him as their mtellectual leader. A kind of philo-
sophical club had been formed, including among its members
■Simon de Vries, John Bresser, Louis Meyer, and others
who appear in Spinoza's correspondence. Originally meet-
ing in all probability for more thoroughgoing study of the
Cartesian philosophy, they looked naturally to Spinoza for
guidance, and by-and-by we find him communicating sys-
tematic drafts of his own views to the little band of friends
and students. The manuscript was read out and discussed
at their meetings, and any points remaining obscure were
referred to Spinoza for further explanation. An interesting
specimen of such difficulties, propounded by Simon de
Vries and resolved by Spinoza in accordance with his own
principles, is preserved for us in Spinoza's correspondence.
This Simon de Vries was a. youth of generous impulses and
of much promise. Being in good circumstances, he was
anxious to show his gratitude to Spinoza by a gift of
2000 florins, which the philosopher half-jestingly excused
himself from accepting. De Vries died young, and would
fain have left his fortune to Spinoza ; but the latter re-
fused to stand in the way of. his brother, the natural heir,
to whom the property was accordingly left, with the con-
dition that he should pay to Spinoza an annuity sufficient
for his maintenance. The heir offered to fix the amount
at 500 florins, but Spinoza accepted only 300, a sum which
was regularly pajd till his death. The written communica-
tions of his own doctrine referred to above belong to a
period after Spinoza had removed from the neighbourhood
of Amsterdam ; but it has been conjectured that the Short
Treatise on God, on, Man, and his Wellbeing, which repre-
sents his thoughts in their earliest systematic form, was
left by him as a parting legacy to this group of friends.
It is at least certain, from a reference in Spinoza's first
letter to Oldenburg, that such a systematic exposition was
in existence before September 1661.1" There are two
dialogues somewhat loosely incorporated with the work
which probably belong to a still earlier period. The short
appendix, in which the attempt is made to present the
chief points of the argument in geometrical form, is a fore-
runner of the EtJii.cs, and was probably written somewhat
later than the rest of the book. The term "Nature" is put
more into the foreground in the Treatise, a point which
might be urged as evidence of Bruno's influence, — the
dialogues, moreover, being specially concerned to establish
the unity, infinity, and self-containedness of Nature-; but
^ Various manuscript copies were apparently made of the treatise in
question, but it was not printed, and dropped entirely out of knowledge
till 1852, when Edward Bohmer of Hallo lighted upon an abstract of
it attached to a copy of Colonia's Life, and shortly afterwards upon a
Dutch MS. purporting to be a translation of tho treatise from tho Latin
original. ITiis wai published in 18C2 by Van Vloten with a re-transla-
tion into Latin. Since then a superior Dutch tranalatioii has been
discovered, which has been edited by Professor Schaarschmidt and
translated into German. Another German version with introduction
and notes has been published by Sigwart based on a comparison of tho
two Dutch MSg. ,
• The fact that Spinoza nowhere jnentiotis Bnmo would not imply,
according to the literary habits of those days, that he was not acquainted
with his speculations and even ludobtcd to them. Thera la no mnntion,
22-1 ()
the two opposed Cartesian attributes, thought and exten-
sion, and the absolutely infinite substance whose attributes
they are — substance constituted by infinite attributes —
appear here as in the Ethics. The latter notion — of sub-
stance— is said^to correspond exactly to "the essence of
the only glorious and blessed God." The earlier differs
from the later exposition in allowing an objective causal
relation between thought and extension, for which there
is substituted in the Ethics the ideal of a thoroughgoing
parallelism.
Early in 1661 Spinoza's host removed to Rhijnsburg
near Leyden, the headquarters of the Collegiant brother-
hood, and Spinoza removed with him. The house where
they lived at Rhijnsburg is still standing, and the road
bears the name of Spinoza Lane. Very soon after his
settlement in his new quarters he was sought out by Henry
Oldenburg, the first secretary of the Royal Society.^ Olden-
burg became Spinoza's most regular correspondent, — a third
of the letters preserved to us are to or from him ; and it
appears from his first letter that their talk on this occasion
was "on God, on infinite extension and thought, on the
difference and the agreement of these attributes, on the
nature of the union of the human soul with the body, as
well as concerning the principles of the Cartesian and
Baconian philosophies." 'Spinoza must therefore have
unbosomed himself pretty freely to his visitor on the main
points of his system. Oldenburg, however, was a man of
no speculative capacity, and, to judge from his subsequent
correspondence, must have quite failed to grasp the real
import and scope of the thoughts communicated to him.
From one of Oldenburg's early letters we learn that the
treatise De Intellectus Emendatione waa probably Spinoza's
first occupation at Rhijnsburg. The aatiue of the work
also bears out the supposition that it was fijst undertaken.
It is, in a manner, Spinoza's "organon," — the doctrine of
method which he would substitute for the corresponding
doctrines of Bacon and Descartes, as alone consonant vrith
the thoughts which were shaping themselves or had shaped
themselves in his mind. It is a theory of philosophical
truth and error, involving an account of the course of
philosophical inqiury and of the supreme object of know-
ledge. It was apparently intended by the author as an
analytical introduction to the constructive exposition of
his system, which he presently essayed in the Ethics. But
he must have found as he proceeded that the two treatises
would cover to a large extent the same ground, the account
of the true method merging almost inevitably in a state-
for example, of Hobbes, throughout Spinoza's political writing, and
only one casual reference to him in a letter, although the obligation of
the Dutch to the English thinker lies on the surface. Accordingly
full weight must be allowed to the internal evidence brought forward
by Sigwart and others to prove Spinoza's acquaintance with Boino's
writings. But in regard to this question, and in reaard to tho elaborate
researches directed to prove that the main determinations of Spinoza's
thought are anticipated in the mediaeval philosophers of his own race,
it must be said that these investigations are of comparBtively little
vital interest. Doubtless Spinoza's thought was coloured by his Hebraic
origin and his Hebraic studies ; from these sources, above all, he may
have brought with him to the study of the dnalistically expressed
philosophy of Descartes the need, and the profound conviction, of unity.
Eat the main strain of Spinoza's thought is sufficiently explained by
rcfeicnco to the Cartesian philosophy itself, the intellectual miJieu
of tho time. Descartes's metaphysics can be shoTvn to lead us to tho
very threshold of Spinoza's system ; not only the general form, but
tho very terminology — substance, attributes, and modes — lay waiting
to bo approjjriated by an independent student.
• Henry Oldenburg (c. 1626-1678) was a native of Bremen, but hail
EOttled in England in the time of tho Commonwoaltb. Though hardly
n scientific man himself, he had a genuine interot^t in science, and muat
have possessed social gifts. Ho w.as the friend of Boylo, and acqnjinl«d
with most of tho leaders of science in England ns well as with many on
tho Continent. Ho delighted to keep himself in thin way ait courani with
the latest de>«lopmonts, and lost no opportunity of eatabliahing relation!
with men of kc.iontific reputation. It was ))robably at tho suggestion of
Quygem tliat he bent hia steps towards Spinoza's lodging.
402
SPINOZA
aient of the truth reacned by its means. The Amendment
of the Understanding was therefore put aside unfinished,
and was first published in the Opera Posthwna. Spinoza
meaawhile concentrated his attention upon the Ethics, and
\7e learn from the correspondence vAth. his Amsterdam
friends that a considerable part of book i. had been com-
municated to the philosophical club there before February
1663. It formed his main occupation for two or three
years after this date. Though thus giving his friends
freely of his best, Spinoza did not cast his thoughts broad-
cast upon any soil. He had a pupil living with him at
Rhijnsburg whose character seemed to him lacking in
solidity and discretion. This pupil (probably Albert Burgh,
who afterwards joined the Church of Rome and penned a
foolishly insolent epistle to his former teacher) was the
occasion of Spinoza's first publication, — the only publi-
jation indeed to which his name was attached. Not
deeming it prudent to initiate the young man into his own
system, he took for a test-book the second and third parts
of Descartes's Pn'recip?es, which deal in the main with natural
philosophy. As he proceeded he put Descartes's matter
in his own language and cast the whole argument into a
geometric form. At the request of his friends he devoted
% fortnight to applying the same method to the first or
metaphysical part of Descartes's philosophy, and the sketch
was published in 1663, with an appendix entitled Cogitata
Metaphysica, still written from a Cartesian standpoint
(defending, for example, the freedom of the vrill), but con-
taining hints of his own doctrine. The book was revised
by Dr Meyer for publication and furnished by him, at
Spinoza's request, with a preface, in which it is expressly
stated that the author speaks throughout not in his own
person but simply as the exponent of Descartes. A Dutch
translation appeared in the following year.^
In 1663 Spinoza removed from Rhijnsburg to Voor-
burg, a suburban village about 2 miles from The Hague.
His reputation had continued to spread. From Rhijnsburg
he had paid frequent visits to The Hague, and it was prob-
ably the desire to be within reach of some of the friends
he had made in these visits — among others the De Witts'
— that prompted his change of residence. He had works
in hand, moreover,which he wished in due time to publish ;
and in that connexion the friendly patronage of the De
Witts might be of essential service to him. The first years
at Voorburg continued to be occupied by the composition
of the Ethics, which was ptobably finished, however, by
the summer of 1665. A journey made to Amsterdam in
that year is conjectured to have had reference to its
publication. But, finding that it would be impossible to
keep the authorship secret, owing to the numerous hands
through which parts of the book had already passed,
Spinoza determined to keep his manuscript in his desk for
the present. In September 1665 we find Oldenburg twit-
ting him with having turned from philosophy to theology
and busying himself with angels, prophecy, and miracles.
This is the first reference to the Tractatus Theologico-
Politicus, which formed his chief occupation for the next
foiur years. The aim of this treatise may be best imder-
stood from the full title with which it was furnished — Trac-
iaius Theologico-Politicus, continens dissertaiiones aliquot,
quibus ostendifur libertatem philosophandi 7ion tanium salva
■pietate et reipuhlicse pace posse concedi'scd eandem nisi cum
pace reipublicse ipsaque pietaie tolli non posse. It is, in
izct, an eloquently reasoned defence of liberty of thought
%nd speech in speculative matters. The external side of
religion — its rites and observances — must of necessity be
* The title of the Latin original ran — Renati des Cartes Principiorum
Philosophise pars i. et ii. more geometrico demonstraise per Benedictnm
de Spinoza Amsielodamensem. Accessertmt ejusdem Capitata Meta-
physica.
subject i-o a certain control on the part of the state, whose
business it is to see to the preservation of decency and
order. But, with such obvious exceptions, Spinoza claims
complete freedom of expression for thought and belief ;
and. he claims it in the interests alike of true piety and of
the state itself. The thesis is less interesting to a modern
reader — because now generally acknowledged — than the
argument by which it is supported. Spinoza's position
is based upon the thoroughgoing distinction drawn in the
book between philosophy, which has to do with knowledge
and opinion, and theology, or, as we should now say, reli-
gion, which has to do exclusively with obedience and con-
duct. The Kgis of religion, therefore, cannot be employed
to cover with its authority any speculative doctrine; nor, on
the other hand, can any speculative or scientific investiga-
tion be regarded as putting religion in jeopardy. Spinoza
undertakes to prove his case by the instance of the Hebrew
Scriptures. Scripture deals, he maintains, in none but the
simplest precepts, nor does it aim at anything beyond the
obedient mind ; it tells us nought of the divine nature,but
what men may profitably apply to their lives. The greater
part of the treatise is devoted to working out this line of
thought ; and in so doing Spinoza consistently applies to
the interpretation of the Old Testament those canons of
historical exegesis which are often regarded as of compara-
tively recent growth. The treatise thus constitutes the first
document in the modern science of Biblical criticism. It
was published in 1670, anonymously, printer and place of
publication being likewise disguised {Hambiirgi apudHein-
ricum Kiinraht). The storm of opposition which it encoun-
tered showed that these precautions were not out of place.
It was synodically condemned along with Hobbes's Levia-
than and other books as early as April 1671, and was con-
sequently interdicted by the states-general of Holland in
1674; before long it was also placed on the Index by the
Catholic authorities. But that it was widely read appears
from its frequent re-issue with false title-pages, represent-
ing it now as an historical work and again as a medical
treatise. Controversialists also crowded into the lists
against it. A translation into Dutch appears to have been
proposed; but Spinoza, who foresaw that such a step would
only increase the commotion which was so distasteful to
him, steadUy set his face against it. No Dutch translation
appeared till 1693.
The same year in which the Treatise was published
Spinoza removed from his suburban lodging at Voorburg
into The Hague itself. He took rooms first on the Veerkay
with the widow Van de Velde, who in her youth had assisted
Grotius to escape from his captivity at Loewenstein. This
was the house afterwards occupied by Colerus, the worthy
Lutheran minister who became Spinoza's biographer. But
the widow insisted on boarding her lodger, and Spinoza
presently found the expense too great for his slender purse.
He accordingly removed to a house on the Pavelioen Gracht
near at hand, occupied by a painter called Van der Spijck.
Here he spent the remaining years of his life in the frugal
independence which he prized. Colerus gives particulars
which enable us to realize the almost incredible simplicity
and econoniy of his mode of life. He would say sometimes
to the people of the house that he was like the serpent
who forms a circle with his tail in his mouth, meaning
thereby that he had nothing left at the year's end. His
friends came to visit him in his lodgings, as well as others
attracted by his reputation — Leibnitz among the rest — and
were courteously entertained, but Spinoza preferred not
to accept their ofiers of hospitality. He spent the greater
part of his time quietly in his own chamber, often having
his meals brought there and sometimes not leaving it for
two or three days together when absorbed in his studies.
Ob one occasion he did uot leave the house for three
SPINOZA
403
months. "When he happened to be tired by having
a, plied himself too much to his philosophical meditationa,
he would go downstairs to refresh himself, and discoursed
with the Van der Spijcks about anything that might afford
matter for an ordinary conversation, and even about trifles.
He also took pleasure in smoking a pipe of tobacco ; or,
when he had a mind to divert himself somewhat longer,
he looked for some spiders and made them fight together,
or be threw some flies into the cobweb, and was so well
pleased wth the result of that battle that he would some-
times break into laughter " (Colerua). He also conversed
at times on more serious topics with the simple people
with whom ho lodged, often, for example, talking over the
sermon with them when they came from church. He
occasionally went himself to hear the Lutheran pastor
preach — the predecessor of Colerus — and would advise the
Van der Spijcks not to miss any sermon of so excellent a
preacher. The children, too, he put in mind of going often
to church, and taught them to be obedient and dutiful to
their parents. One day his landlady, who may have heard
strange stories of her solitary lodger, came to him in some
trouble to ask him whether he believed she could be saved
in-the religion she, professed. "Your religion is a good
one," said Spinoza; "you need not look for another, nor
doubt that you will be saved in it, provided that, while you
apply yourself to piety, you live at the same time a peace-
able and quiet life." Only once, it is recorded, did Spinoza's
admirable self-control givo way, and that was when he
received the news of the murder of the De Witts by a
frantic mob in the streets of The Hague. It was in the
year 1672, when the sadden invasion of the Low Countries
by Louis XTV. raised an irresistible clamour for a military
leader and overthrew the republican constitution for which
the De Witts had struggled. John De Witt had been
Spinoza's friend, and had bestowed a small pension upon
him ; he had Spinoza's full sympathy in his political aims.
On receiving the news of the brutal murder of the two
brothers; Spinoza burst into tears, and his indignation
was so roused that he was bent upon publicly denouncing
the crime upon the spot where it had been Committed.
But the timely caution of his host prevented his issuing
forth to almost certain death. Not long after Spinoza
was himself in danger from the mob, in consequence of a
visit which he paid to the French camp. He had been in
correspondence with one Colonel Stoupe, a Swiss theologian
and soldier, then serving with the prince of Cond6, the
commander of the French army at Utrecht. From him
Spinoza received a communication enclosing a pas.sport
from the French commander, who -wished to make his
acquaintance and promised him a pension from the French
king at the easy price of ^ dedication to his majesty.
Spinoza went to Utrecht, but returned without seeing
Cond6, who had in the meantime been called elsewhere ;
the pension ho civilly declined. There may have been
nothing more in the visit than is contained in this narra-
tive; but on his return Spinoza found that the populace
of The Hague regarded him as no better than a spy. The
town was full of angry mm-murs, and the landlord feared
that the mob would storm his house and drag Spinoza out.
Spinoza quieted his fears as well as he could, assuring
him that as soon as the crowd made any threatening move-
ment ho would go out to meet them, " though they should
serve me as they did the poor Do Witts. I am a good
republican and have never had any aim but the honour
and welfare of the state." Happily the danger passed off
without calling for such an ordeaL
Li 1673 Spinoza received an invitation from the elector
palatine to quit his retirement and become professor of
philosophy in the university of Heidelberg. The offer
was couched in flattering terms, and conveyed an express
assurance of " the largest freedom of speech in philosophy,
which the prince is confident that you will not misuse to
disturb the established religion." But Spinoza's experience
of theological sensitiveness led him to doubt the possibility
of keeping on friendly terms with the established religion,
if he were placed in a public capacity. Moreover, he was
not strong ) he had had no experience of public teaching ;
and he foresaw that the duties of a chair would put an '
end to private research. For all these reasons he court-
eously declined the offer made to him. There is little
more to tell of his life of solitary meditation. In 1675
we learn from his correspondence that he entertained the
idea of publishing the Ethics, and made a journey to
Amsterdam to arrange matters with the printer. " But,
whilst I was busy with this," he writes, " the report was
spread everywhere that a certain book of mine was in the
press, wherein I endeavoured to show that there was no
God; and this report found credence with many. Where-
upon certain theologians (themselves perhaps the authors
of it) took occasion to complain of me to the prince and the
magistrates ; moreover, the stupid Cartesians, because they
are commonly supposed to side with me, desiring to free
themselves from that suspicion, were diligent without
ceasing in their execrations of my doctrines and writings,
and are as diligent still." As the commotion seemed to
grow worse instead of subsiding, Spinoza consigned the
manuscript once more to his desk, from which it was not
to issue tUl after his death. Hi a last literary work was
the unfinished. Tractatus Poliiicus and the preparation of
notes for a new edition of the Tractatus TlieologiccfPoUti-
cus, in which he hoped to remove some of the misunder-
standings which the book had met with. The Tractatus
Poliiicus develops his philosophy of law and govermnent
on the lines indicated in his other works, and connects
itself closely with the theory enunciated by Hobbes a
generation before. Consumption had been making its
insidious inroads upon Spinoza for many years, and early
in 1677 he must have been conscious that he was seriously
ill. On Saturday the 20th of February he sent to
Amsterdam for his friend Dr Meyer. On the following
day the Van der Spijcks, having no thought of immediate
danger, went to the afternoon service. When they came
back Spinoza was no more ; he had died about three in
the afternoon with" Meyer for the only witness of his last
moments. Spinoza was buried on the 25th of February
"in the new church upon the Spuy, being attended," Colerua
teUs us, " by many illustrious persons and followed by six
coaches." iJo was little more than forty-four years of age,
Spinoza's effects were few and realized little more than ■was re-
quired for tlie pajTnent of charges and outstanding debts. ' ' One
need only cast one'e eyes upon tlie account," says his bioCTapher,
"to perceive that it was the inventory of a true philosopher. It
contains only some small books, some engravings, a few lenses,
and the instruments to polish them." His desk, containing hij
letters and his unpublished works, Spinoza had previously charged
his landlord to convey to Jan Kiouwcrtz, a pubRihcr in Amsterdam.
This was done, and the Opera Foslhuma appeared in the same year,
without the author's name, but with his initials upon the title-
page. They were fuTTiished with a preface written in Dutcli by
Jarig Jellis, a Mennonite friend of Spinora's, and tiauslated into
Latin by Dr Meyer. Next year the book was proscribed in »
violently worded edict by the states of Holland and West Friosland.
The obloquy wl>ich thus gathered round Spiuoza in the later yeara
of bis life remained settled upon lus memory for a full hundred
years after his death. Humes casual allusion to "this famoUB
atheist" and his "hideous hypothesis" is a fair specimen of the
tone in which ho is usually referred to ; people talked about
Spinoza, Lcssing said, " as if he were a dead dog." The chang«
of opinion in this respect may bo dated from Lcsaing's famous con-
versation with Jacobi in 1780. Lessiug, Goethe, Herder. X. vil:.
and Schloiermacher, not to mention ])hilosopher9 likr
and Hegel, united in recognizing the unique streneth ai'i
of Spinoza's thought, and in sotting him in his riplitful plu^c ..:j.. .ig
the speculative leaders of mankind. Transfused into I liuir writuiM^
his spirit has had a largo share in moulding the philosophic thooght
404
S P I — S P I
of the 19th century, and it has also been widely influential beyond
the schools. Instead of his atheism Hegel speaks of his acosmism,
and Novalis dubs him a God-intoxicated man. Schleiermacher's
fine apostrophe is well known, in which he calls upon us to "offer
a lock of hair, to the manes of the holy and excommunicated
Spinoza."
Spinoza's personal appearance is described by Colerus from the
accounts given him by many people at The Hague who knew him
familiarly. "He was of a middle size, and had good features in
his face, the skin somewhat dark, black curled hair, and the long
eyebrows of the same colour, So that one might easily know from
Ms looks that he was descended from the Portuguese Jews."
Leibnitz also gives a similar description : ' ' The celebrated Jew
Spinoza had an olive complexion and something Spanish in his
face." These characteristics are preserved in a portrait in oil in
the 'Wolfenbiittel library, which was probably the original of the
(in that case unsuccessfully rendered) engraving prefixed to the
Opera Posthuma of 1677. This portrait has recently been photo-
graphed for Dr Martineau's /Siarfy o/" <S^rnoja. In 18S0 astatue was
erected to Spinoza at The Hague by international subscription
among his admirers.
Spinoza's philosophy is a thoroughgoing pantheism, which has
both a naturalistic and a mystical side. The foundation of the
system is the doctrine of one infinite substance, of which all finite
existences are modes or limitations (modes of thought or modes of
extension). God is thus the immanent cause of the universe ; kut
of creation or will there can be no question in Spinoza's system.
God is used throughout as equivalent to nature {Deus sive natura).
The philosophical standpoint comprehends the necessity of all that
is — a necessity that is none other than the necessity of the divine
nature itself To view things thus is to view them, according to
Spinoza's favourite phrase, sub specie setemitaiis. Spinoza's philo-
sophy is fully considered in the article Cabtesiauism (see vol.
T, p. 152 sq.).
Ziteraiure. — The contents of the Opera Posthuma included the
Ethics, the TractaUis PoUlicus, and the Ve Intelkclus Emendaiux t
(the last two unfinished), a selection from Spinoza's correspondence,
and a Compendium of Hebrew Grammar. The Treatise on the Pain-
how, supposed to be lost, was published anonymously in Dutch ia
1687. The first collected edition of Spinoza's works was made by
Paulus in 1802 ; there is another by Gfrbrer (1830), and a third by
Bruder (1 843-46) in three volumes. Van Vloten's volume, published
in 1862, Ad Bcnedicti de SpinoM opera qux supcrsunt omnia supple-
mentum^ is uniform with Bruder's edition so as to complete it by a
supplementary volume. It contained the early treatise De Deo et
hmniTie, the Treatise on the Eainlow, and several fresh letters. A
complete and authoritative edition has only recently been achieved
by Dr Van Vloten and Professor J. P. N. Land. The work was
undertaken by them for the Spinoza Memorial Committee formed
■in Holland to celebrate the bicentenary of the philosopher's death ;
•the funds remaining after the erection of the statue mentioned
above were devoted to the publication of this handsome edition
(2 vols., 1882-83). An English translation of The Chief WorJcs of
Spinoza, by E. H. M. Elwes, appeared in 1883, and a separate
translation of the Ethics by W. H. WTiite was published in the
same year ; previous translations were nnscholarly in execution.
The main authority for Spinoza's life is the sketch published in
1705, in Dutch, with a controversial sermon against Spinozism, by
Johannes Colerus. The French version of this Life (1706) has
been several times reprinted as well as translated into English and
German. The English version, also dating from 1706, has been re-
printed by Mr Frederick PoUock at the end of his work, Spinoza, his
Life and Philosophy (18S0). Mr Pollock's book and Dr Martineau's
Stndy of Spinoza (1882), both admirable pieces of work, are in a
manner complementary, and may with advantage be studied to-
gether. In his introduction Mr Pollock gives a list of the biographi-
cal sources, and also some account of the early literature relating to
Spinoza. The Spinoza literature in more recent times has become
so extensive as to forbid quotation. A. van der Linde's Benedictus
Spirwza: Bibliografic (The Hague, 1871) is a classified catalogue
as nearly as possible complete down to that date. (A. SK)
SPIRES (Germ. Speyer or Speier), tie cliief town of
the Rhenisli palatinate, Bavaria, and formerly a free im-
perial city, is situated on the left bank of the Rhine, at
the month of the Speyerbach, 21 miles to the south of
Worms. The principal streets are broad but irregular, .
and the general appearance of the town little corresponds
to its high antiquity, owing to the fact that it was burned
by the French in 1689. The only important ancient build-
ing that has survived the flames is the cathedral, a very
large and imposing basilica of red sandstone, and one of the
noblest examples of Romanesque architecture now extant.
Beyond the general interest attaching to it as one of the old
Romanesque churches of the Rhineland, Spires cathedral
has a peculiar importance in the history of architecture as
probably the earliest Romanesque basUica Ln which the
nave as well as the side arcades was vaulted from the first.
Built in 1030-61 by Conrad II. and his successor, this
church has had a chequered history, its disasters culminat-
ing in 168D, when the soldiers of Louis XTV. b'u-ned it to
the bare walls and scattered the ashes of the eight German
emperors who had been interred in the kings' choir. Re-
stored in 1772-84 and provided with a vestibule and fagade,
it was again desecrated by the French in 1794; but in:
1846-53 it was once more thoroughly restored and adorned
in the interior with gorgeous frescos at the expense of
the king of Bavaria. The large cathedral bowl (Domnapf)
in front of the west fagade formerly marked the boundary
between the episcopal and municipal territories. Each
new bishop on his election had to fiU the bowl with wine,
while the burghers emptied it to his health. The heathen
tower to the east of the church, on foundations supposed
to be Roman, was probably part of the town wall built in
1080 by Bishop Rudger. Of the Retscher, or imperial
palace, so called because built after the model of the
Hradschin at Prague, only a mouldering fragment of wall
remains. It was in this palace that the famous diet of
Spires met in 1529, at which the Reformers first received
the name of Protestants. The Altportel (alta porta), a fine
old gateway of 1246, is a relic of the free imperial city.
Among the modem buildings are several churches and
schools, a museum and picture gaUery, &c. Spires,
although rebuilt in 1697, has never recovered from the
cruel injuries inflicted by the French in 1689. Its trade
is insignificant, although it still has a free harbour on the
Rhine. Its manufactures include paper, tobacco and
cigars, sugar, sugar of lead, vinegar, beer, and leather.
Vines and tobacco are grown in the neighbourhood. The
population in 1880 was 15,589 and in 1885 16,228.
Spires, known to the Romans as A ugusta Kemctum or Kemetse,
and to the Gauls as Naviomagus, is one of the oldest towns on the
Rhine. The modem name appears first, under the form Spira,
about the 7th century. Captxired by Julius Casar in 47 B.C., it
was repeatedly destroyed by the barbarian hordes in the first few
centuries of the Christian era. Tha town had become an episcopal
seat in the 4th century ; but heathenism superrened, and the present
bishopric dates from 610. In 830 Spira became part of the Frankish
empire, the emperors having a "palatium" here; and it was especi-
ally favoured by the Salic imperial house ; The contentions between
the bishops and the citizens were as obstinate and severe as in any
other city of Germany. The situation of the town opposite the
mouths of several roads through the Rhine valley early fostered its
trade ; in 1294 it rose to be a free imperial city, although it owned
no territory beyond its walls and had a population of less than
30,000. It enjoyed great renown as the seat of the imperial supreme
court from 1527 tiU 1689 ; it was fifth among the free cities of the
Rhine, and had a vote in the Upper Rhenish diet. Numerous
imperial diets assembled here. From 1801 till 1814 it was the
capital of a department of France ; but it was restored to Bavaria
in the latter year. By the peace of Spires in 1544 the Hapsburgs
renounced their claims to the crown of Sardinia.
SPIRITUALISM. The term " spiritualism " is used by
philosophical writers to denote the opposite of materialism.
It is also used in a narrower sense to describe the belief
that the spiritual world manifests itself by producing in
the physical world effects inexplicable by the known laws '
of nature. The belief in such occasional manifestation'
has probably existed as long as the belief in the existenc <
of spirits apart from human bodies, and a complete exa-
mination into it would involve a discussion of the religions
of all ages and nations. In 1848, however, a peculiar
form of it, believed to be based on abundant experimental
evidence, arose in America and spread there with great
rapidity and thence over the civilized world. To this
movement, which has been called " modem spiritualism,"
the discussion in the present article is confined. The
movement began in a single family. In 1848 a Mr and
SPIEITUALISM
4o;
Mrs Fox and their two daugliters,- living at- Hydeville
(Wayno), Few York, were much disturbed by unexplained
knockings. At length Kate Fox discovered that the cause
of the sounds was intelligent and would make raps as re-
quested, and, communication being established, the rapper
professed to be the spirit of a murdered pedlar. An in-
vestigation into the matter seemed to show that none of
the Fox family were concerned in producing the rappings;
but the evidence that they were not concerned is insuffi-
cient, although similar noises had been noticed occasionally
in the house before they lived there. It was, however, at
Rochester, where the two Fox girls soon afterwards went
to live with a married sister (Mrs Fish) that modern spirit-
ualism assumed its present form, and that communication
was, as it was believed, established with lost relatives and
deceased eminent men. The presence of certain "mediums"
was required to form the link between the worlds of the.
living and of the dead, and Kate Fox and her sister were
the first mediums. Spiritualists do not as yet claim to know
what special qualities in mediums enable spirits thus to
make use of them. The earliest communications were car-
ried on by means of " raps," or, as Mr Crockes calls them,
" percussive sounds " It was agreed that one rap should
mean " no " and three "yes," while more complicated mess-
ages were — and are — obtained in other ways, such as
calling over or pointing to letters of the alphabet, when
raps occur at the required letters.
The idea of communicating with the departed was natur-
ally attractive even to the merely curious, stUl more to
those who were mourning for lost friends, and most of all
to those who believed that this was the commencement of
a new revelation. The first two causes have attracted
many inquirers ; but it is the last that chiefly gives to
modem spiritualism its religious aspect. Many came to
witness the new wonder, and the excitement and interest
spread rapidly. "Spirit-circles" were formed in several
families, and other mediums discovered, exhibiting pheno-
mena of various kinds (see below). The interest in mes-
merism arid the phenomena of hypnotic trance, which was
widely diffused at this time both in America and Europe
(see Magnetism, Animal, vol. xv. p. 277 sq.), was favour-
able to the new idea. Information about other worlds
and from higher intelligences was thought to be obtained
from persons who could be put into the sleop-waking state,
of whom Andrew Jackson Davis was in America the most
prominent example. His work, Nature's Divine Revda-
tions (New York, 1847), was alleged to have been dictated
in "clairvoyant" trance. Many reputed "clairvoyants"
developed into mediums. The movement spread like an
epidemic. There is very little evidence to show that it
arose anywhere spontaneously'; but those who sat with
the Foxes were often found to become mediums them-
selves and then in their turn developed mediumship in
others. The mere reading of accounts of seances seemed
to develop the peculiar susceptibility in some persons,
while others, who became mediums ultimately, did so only
after prolonged and patient waiting.
There seems to have been little practical interest in
:'piritualism in Europe till Mrs Hayden, a professional
medium from Boston, came over in 1852. It spread like
wildfire within a few months of her arrival, — its first de-
velopment being in the form of a mania for table-turning,
which seems to have prevailed all over Europe in 1853.
' It ia possible that the family of Dr Phelps were unaware of the
" Rocliostor knockings " when the disturbances began in his house at
Stratford, Connecticut, in 1850 (see Capron'a Modem Spiritttalism, its
Facts, &o.) ; but these disturbances, as recorded, have a closer ro-
Bemblanco to the ordinary occurrences at a spiritualistic seance than
those -which took place at Tedworth in 1661 (see Olanvill's Sadducis-
VMS Triumphatus) and at Slawensik in 1806 (see Kamer's Seherin von
Prcvorsi), and others too numerous to mentior.
Daniel Dunglas Home, the next medium of importance
who appeared in London, came over from America in
1855. But it was at Keighley in Yorkshire that spiritual-
ism as a religious movement first made any mark in Eng-
land, and it was there that the first English spiritualistic
periodical, the Yorkshire Spiritual Telegraph, was started
in 1855. The extent to which the movement has spread
and the present number of spiritualists are very difficuli,
to estimate. Vague calculations have from time to time
been attempted : in 18G7 one spiritualist estimated the
number in America at 11,000,000 or two-fifths of the
population, and another has held 3,000,000 to be an ex-
treme estimate (see Spiritual Magazine for 1867). The
periodicals devoted to spiritualism may perhaps be taken
to indicate the present state of the movement. There
are in England two weekly newspapers. Light and The
Medium and Daybreak; one of these has advertisements
of Sunday meetings in sixty different to-wns and in eighty
different rcoms. The spiritualistic journals outside Great
Britain number about 100, though probably only about a
quarter of these are of any importance. Of these 30 are in
English (26 published in America and 4 in the Australian
colonies), 15 to 20 in French, and 6 in German. But nearly
40 are published in Spanish in Spain and South America.
Private circles which meet regularly are believed to be
numerous in England ; and there are numerous public and
semi -public trance -speaking and clairvoyant mediums,
especially among the miners in the north.
In the present article it is impossible to give an ex-
haustive catalogue of the phenomena and modes of com-
mimication of modern spiritualism. Many have not now
appeared for the first time in history, though it is difficult
to suppose any historical connexion between the new de-
velopments and the old. Perhaps the most striking paral-
lelism is that between the proceedings at modern seances
and those connected with the later Greek oracles.^ The
greater part of the phenomena may be divided into two
classes. To the first and earliest developed class belong
what may be called the physical phenomena of spiritual-
ism,— those, namely, which, if correctly observed and due
neither to conscious or imconscious trickery nor to Hallu-
cination on the part of the observers, exhibit a force hitherto
unknown to science, acting in the physical world otherwise
than through the brain or muscles of the medium. The
earliest of these phenomena were the raps already spoken
of and other sounds occurring -without apparent physical
cause, and the similarly mysterious movements of furni-
ture aud other objects; and these were shortly followed
by the ringing of bells and playing of musical instruments.
Later followed the appearance of lights ; quasi-human
voices ; musical sounds, produced, it is supposed, -without
instruments; the " materialization " or presence in material
form of what seem to be human Lands and faces, and
ultimately of complete figures, alleged to be not those of
any person present, and sometimes claimed by witnesses
as deceased relatives ; " psychography," or " direct -writing
and dra-wing," asserted to be done without human inter-
vention; "spirit-photography," or photographing of human
and other forms invisible to all but specially endowed
seers ; unfastening of cords and bonds ; elongation of the
medium's body; handling of red-hot coals; and the ap-
parent passage of solids through solids without disinte-
gration. The phenomena observed at Tedworth belong
to this class. Somewhat similar was the Cock Lane ghost
in 1762.8 ^ practice of causing heavily loaded tables to
rise by " magic " seems to have existed among the German
Jews in the 17th century.* Korner records movements
' Seo Essays Classical, by F. W. H. Mycra, 1883.
* See Oentleman's Magazine, 1762.
♦ Vo2 Eorleas, Aegyplische Mystericn, 1866, pp. 130-132.
406
SPIRITUALISM
of objects in connexion with Madame Hauffe in 1825-28,'
and such movements also occurred in presence of the so-
called electric girl in 1846.- The second class of phenomena,
which we may call the automatic, consists in table-tilting
and turning with contact ; writing, drawing, &c., through
the medium's hand; convulsive movements and involuntary
dancing ; entrancement, trance-speaking, and personation
by the medium of deceased persons, attributed to temporary
" possession "; seeing spirits and visions and hearing phan-
tom voices. This class bears affinity to some of the pheno-
mena of hypnotism and of certain nervous complaints, to
certain epidemics of the Middle Ages,^ and to phenomena
that have occurred at some religious revivals. According to
quotations given by Chevreul,* the divipingrrod was used at
the end of the 17th century for obtaining answers to ques-
tions, as table-tilting now is. In athird class must be placed
the cure of disease by healing mediums. This cannot well
be treated apart from mesmeric healing and "faith cures"
and "mind cures," and belongs to medical psychology.
The class of automatic phenomena are much the common-
est. The investigations of Carpenter-on unconscious cerebra-
tion and of Faraday on unconscious muscular action ^ have
shown that it is not necessaiy to look outside the medium's
own brain and organism for the explanation of such things
as automatic writing and table turning. It is about the
matter communicated by these means that the controversy
now turns. Spiritualists maintain that true information
is thus given, provably unknown to the medium or other
persons present, or at least expressed in a way obviously
beyond their powers to originate. Another view, v^-hich is
now gaining ground, is that the information in some excep-
tional cases does not come from the mind of the medium,
but is due to the influence wrought on his mind by that
of other persons, and more than this is not proved.®
At no period of the spiritualistic movement has the
class of physical phenomena been accepted altogether with-
out criticism. Most spiritualists know that much fraud in
connexion with them has been discovered — frequently 'by
spiritualists themselves — and that the conditions favour-
able to obtaining them are often such as favour fraud. It
is with a full knowledge of these difficulties in the way
of investigation that they maintain that unmistakably
genuine phenomena are of constant occurrence. Many
volumes containing accounts of such phenomena have been
printed, and appeal is often made to the mass of evidence
so accumulated. " No physical science can array a tithe
of the mass of evidence by which psychism " {i.e., what is
usually called spiritualism) "is supported," says Serjeant
Cox.'' But the majority of these accounts have scarcely
any scientiftc value. Spiritualists have, as a rule, sought
to convince not by testimony but by ocular demonstration.
Yet, if there is not a mass of scientific evidence, there are
a number of witnesses — among them distinguished men of
science and others of undoubted intelligence — who have
convinced themselves by observation of the genuineness
of the phenomena, — a fact of undeniable importance, even
without careful records, when the witnesses are otherwise
known to be competent and trustworthy observers. Mr
Maskelyne has affirmed* that he has witnessed table-
turning where he was satisfied that there was neither
trickery nor unconscious muscular action. Moreover, if
^ Seherin von Prevorst.
' Tanchou, EnquUe sur Vauiheniicile des phSnomines Slectrigues
cPAngelique Cottin, Paris, 1846.
♦ See Hecker, EpideriUcs of the Middle Ages, 1859.
* De la baguette divinaioire, &c., 1854.
° Athenxum,2d July 185Z; see also on this subject Chevreul, op. rif.
' See Ch. Richet, " La Suggestion Mentale," in Jievue PkUosophique,
Decemher 1884, and Proc. Sac. for P/n/chical Research, vols. ii. and iii.
' Mechanism of Man : What am 11 vol. ii. p. 313, 1879.
' See PcM Mall Gazette, ISth, 20th, and 23d April 1885.
the phenomena are not genuine, we have to assume a large
amount of apparently aimless fraud.
Amongst the proposed explanations of these phenomena
that of hallucination need not detain us long. Sensory
hallucination of several persons together who are not in
a hypnotic state is a rare phenomenon, and therefore not
a probable explanation. Moreover, it cannot be regarded
as being generally applicable, partly because material traces
of what occurs often remain, and partly because of the
general agreement not only of all the witnesses but of all
the senses as to what is perceived, as distinguished from
what is inferred. Nevertheless something of the kind
may occasionally have happened, especially at some of the
seances of Home.'' If collective hallucination really occurs
at seances, it is a "very interesting fact, and deserves to be
carefully studied.
What may broadly be called conjuring is, however, a
much more probable explanation of most of the recorded
phenomena ; and in the vast majority of cases the wit-
nesses do not seem to have duly appreciated the possibili-
ties of conjuring, nor to have taken sufficient precautions
to exclude it. Besides, not even a conjuror knows all
the possibilities of his art and can describe in detail all
the accidental circumstances which may on any particular
occasion favour deception, and perhaps never exactly recur.
We require, therefore, to know not only that the witness
is careful and accurate but that he has allowed a suffi-
ciently wide margin for the possibilities of conjuring; and
some leading spiritualists do not allow this. It is often
urged that mediums are not conjurors because they fre-
quently faU, whereas "imposture can be reproduced at wUl,"
and because they can produce the phenomena in private
rooms, and under conditions which exclude the possibility
of conjuring. But the phenomena produced by mediums
in private rooms Would generally be uninteresting and
unsuited to public performance, so that it would not pay
a professional conjuror to practise them. Amateur con
jurors might do something in this way, and the present
writer has seen one imitate successfully some of the
phenomena of professional mediums for "direct writing";
but to compete with mediums on really equal terms the con-
juror must have the same conditions throughout, and this
is difficult to arrange, since it involves securing witnessef
who are doubtful as to v^'hether what they see is conjuring
or not. Still more important to the conjuror is that very
privilege of failing whenever he pleases, so largely used by
mediums, that he may avail himself of accidental oppor-
tunities for trickery, which would be interfered with by a
settled programme. The extent to which the absence of
program".£ie obtains at seances- appears from the following
statement by a leading spiritualist who writes under the
nom de plume of "M.A. (Oxon.)"; "In 99 out of every
100 cases people do not get what they want or expect.
Test after test, cunningly devised, on which the investi-
gator has set his mind, is put aside, and another sub-
stituted."!" jji other words, the evidence is rarely strictly
experimental, and this not only gives facilities for fraud
but makes it necessary to aUow a much larger margin for
accidents, mistakes, and mal-observ-ation. It must be borne
in mind that the most excellent moral character in the
medium is no guarantee against trickery, unless it can be
proved that he was in no abnormal mental condition when
the phenomena occurred; for extraordinary deceptions have
been carried on by hysterical' patients and others with no
apparent motive but a desire to secure attention.
One of the possibilities to be allowed for is that of un-
' See, e.g.. Report on SpiriiuaUsrii of the Commiltee of the London
Dialectical Society, 1871, pp. 367-369, 207. See also Guldenstubbe,
De la realite des esprits, 1S57, p. 66.
'» ffuinan Jfature, 1876, p. £67.
S P I-
usual muscular endowment in the medium. For instance,
in 1851, the remarkable loud double raps occurring in the
presence of the Fox girls, which in 1849 had puzzled several
investigating committees at Rochester, were- explained by
Professors Flint, Lee, and Coventry of BufTalo as produced
by rapidly partially dislocating and restoring the knee and
other joints. They stated that they had experimented
with another lady who could do the same; and, challenged
by Mrs. Fish, they tried some experiments with her and
ilargaretta Fox which strongly supported their view.
Besides the general arguments for supposing that the
physical phenomena of spiritualism may be due to con-
juring, there are two special reasons which gain in force
as time goes on. (1) Almost every medium who has been
prominently before the public has at some time or other
been detected in fraud, or what cannot be distinguished
from fraud except o_n some violently improbable hypo-
thesis ; and (2), although it is easy to devise experiments
of various kinds which would place certain phenomena
above the suspicion of conjuring, by eliminating the neces-
sity for continuous observation on the part of the investi-
gators, there is no good evidence that such experiments
have ever succeeded. Nevertheless there does exist evi-
dence for the genuineness of the physical phenomena which
deserves consideration. Count Ag^nor de Gasparin, in
his Tables Tournantes (Paris, 1854), gives an account of
what seem to have been careful eiiperiments with his own
family and friends, which convinced him that by some
unknown force tables could be got to move without con-
tact. He did not beKeve that spirits had anything to do
Avith it. His experiments were conducted in broad day-
light and mth sceptical witnesses (whose testimony, how-
ever, he does not give) looking on outside the circle. The
minutes of the sub-committee No. 1 of the committee of
the Dialectical Society {op. cit, pp. 373-391) report that
tables moved without contact, whilst all the persons present
knelt on chairs (the backs of which were turned to the
table), with their hands on the backs. The report, how-
ever, would be of greater value if the names of the medium
and" of the working members of tie committee were given
— we only know that of Sergeant Go.x — and if they had
written independent accounts of what they witnessed. The
conditions of some of Mr Crookes's experiments with D.
D. Home on alterations in the weight of a partially sus-
pended board ^ appear to have been so simple that it is
difficult to imagine how the witnesses can have been
deceived. • Some very remarkable evidence is contained
in "Kesearches in Spiritualism during the Year 1872-3,"
by "M.A. (Oxon.)," published in a spiritualistic periodical
called Hvman Natui-e, March and August 1874. The papers
give accounts of phenomena obtained through the writer's
own mediumship, generally in the jiresence of one or two
friends, and extending over almost the whole range of
spiritualistic manifestations.
But what chiefly interests spiritualists is the' assurance
of life and progress after death,. and the moral and reli-
gioiis teaching, which they obtain through automatic writ-
ing and trance-speaking. It was discovered very early in
the movement that the accuracy of these communications
could not always be relied on; but it is maintained by
spiritualists that by the exercise of the reason and judg-
ment, by prolonged acquaintance with particular com-
municating intelligences, and by proofs of identity ■with
persons known to have been trustworthy on earth, it is
possible to obtain valuable information from beings not
infallible, but with the knowledge of spirit life superadded
to their earthly experience. Still the agreement between
' Qitart. Journ. of Science, July and October 1871 ; republished, with
other papers by Mr Crookes, under the title of Itcsearcliti on the Plieno-
mtna of SjpirUuolUm. la'l ""
P I
407
communications so received has not been sufficiently great
for anything like a universal spiritualistic cr-ed to have
been arrived at. In Franco the doctrine of successive
reincarnations with intervals of spirit life promulgated by
Allan Kardec (Lion Hippolyte Uenisart Kivail) forms a
prominent element of spiritualistic belief. This view has,
hov.-cver, made but little way in England and America]
where the opinions of the great majority of spiritualists
vary from orthodox Christianity to Unitarianism of au
extreme kind. Probably it would be impossible to unite
spiritualists in any creed, which, besides the generally
accepted belief in God and immortality, should postulate
more than the progress of the spirit after death, and the
power of some of the dead to communicate with the living
by means of mediums
Spiritualism has been accused of a strong tendency to
produce insanity ; the charge, however, seems to be in the
main a mistaken inference from the fact that the delusions
of the insane not unfrequently take the form of supposed
converse with invisible beings. It is, however, probable
that the spiritualistic theories of possession and obsession
sometimes injure persons with incipient insane impulses,
by weakening their sense of responsibility for these and
their efforts to control them. Spiritualism has also been
accused of fostering free love and othijfr doctrines subver-
sive of society. But this charge too has been made without
adequate grounds ; for, though certain spiritualistic bodies
have at times taught such doctrines, they have always been
repudiated by the mass of spiritualists. The great. scandal
of spiritualism is undoubtedly the encouragement it gives
to the immoral trade of fraudulent mediumship.
In addition to the works already raeationcd, the student, for a
general idea of the whole subject, should consult the following : —
£. W. Capron, Modem Spiritualism, its Fcicts, &c., Boston, 1855,
for the early history of the movement in America ; Edmonds and
Dexter, Sjnritxmlism, New York, 1854-55; R. Hare, Experimental
Investigations of the Spirit Manifestations,- New York, 1S5G ; Allan
Kardec, Zivrc dcs £sprits, 1st ed. Z853 ; Mrs De Morgan, From
Matter to Spirit, London, 1863, with preface by Professor De Mor-
gan ; Alfred Russel Wallace, Miracles and Modern Spiritualism,
ISTG; M.A. (O.^on.), Spirit Identity 3.ni. Spirit Teaching; ZoUner,
"^isscnschaftliche Abhniidlnngcn (the part relating to spiritualism
has been translated into English under the title Transcendental
Physics by C. C. Massey). A succinct account of typical frauds
of spiritualism is contained in D. D. Home's- Lights and SUadows
of Spiritualism, 2d ed.,lS77-1S. (E. M. S.)
SPITZBERGEN. This group of rocky, barren, an4(
snowclad islands, lost in the solitudes of the Arctic Ocean,
400 miles north-north-west of the North Cape of Norway
(see vol. xix. pi. II.), but nevertheless well known for at
least four centuries to European whalers and seal-hunters,
has of late acquired new interest from the scientific expedi-
tions by which it has been selected either as a base for
attempts to reach the north pole or as a field in which
to inaugurate a new era of scientific exploration in the
arctic regions. From Spitzbcrgen Parrj' started in 1827
on the sledge journey which brought him within 480 miles
of the pole ; it was the starting-point of the investigations
which led Charles Martins to his brilliant generalizations
of the flora, present and past, of the earth ; and numerous
Swedish expeditions from 1858 onwards have accumulatca
an amount of knowledge, so vast and so important, as to
be comparable only with the results of the great equatorial
and arctic journeys of the first years of the 1 9th century.
The Sjiitzbergen archipelago, lying between 76' 30' and
80" 30' N. lat. and 10° and 30° E. long.— half-way between
Greenland and Nova Zcmbla — consists of six largo and
a groat number of smaller islands. The chief, that ol
West Spitzbcrgen, shaped like a wedgo pointed towards
the south, and deeply indented on the west and north by
long branching fjords, has an area of nearly 15,200 s(|uare
miles. High mountains, reaching 45G0 feet in the Horn
Sound Tind, cover its southern parts ; while a wide plateau.
408
SPTTZBERGEN
with an altitude of from 1500 to 2000 feet and covered
by a thick ice-sheet, occupies the north. Several fjords —
Horn Sound, Bel Sound, Ice Fjord (15 miles T\'ide and 80
long), and the double fjord of King's Bay and Cross Bay
on the west, and Liefde, Wiide, and Lomme Bays on the
north^-deeply penetrate the island. One of the ramifica-
tions (Dickson Bay) of the beautiful Ice Fjord, 150 fathoms
deep, nearly reaches the head of Wiide i3ay, so as almost
to divide the island. A long narrow island. Prince Charles's
60-
Map of Spitzbergen.
Foreland, with peaks of nearly 5000 feet high, runs parallel
to part of the west coast of "West Spitzbergen, from which
it is separated by a narrow strait. The broad Stor (Great)
t jord, or Wiide Jans Water, separates the main island from
two others to the east, — Stans Foreland (2500 square
miles) and Barents Land (580 square miles). Formerly
these were considered as one, and named Edge Island,
until the narrow AValter Thymen Strait which parts them
was discovered. A few peaks, estimated at from 1600 to
2000 feet high, protrude above the snow and ice by which
these two imperfectly explored islands are covered. To
the north-east of West Spitzbergen, separated from it by
Hinlopen Strait (7 to 60 miles in breadth) lies North-East
Land, with an area of about 6200 square miles. Its western
and northern coasts are indented by several bays and fjords;
the southern and eastern shores, on account of the masses
of ice by which they are constantly girt, remain unexplored.
This island appears Hke a broad plateau covered by an ice-
sheet 2000 to 3000 feet in thickness, from which a few
peaks protrude. Slowly moving towards the east, this
immense sheet of ice discharges into the sea by a huge
ice-waU, unbroken by promonto/ies for 150 miles, thus
forming the broadest glacier known, — Dickson's glacier.
Eastwards from this group of islands, 100 mUes to the
north-east of Stans Foreland, rises another island, measur-
ing 90 miles from west to east. Marked either GUlis's
Land or Wiche's Land in earlier maps, it was seen from
Spitzbergen as a snow-clad mass mingling with the fogs
of the sea by a Swedish expedition, and later on by
Heuglin and Zeil; but it was not until 1872 that the
Norwegian whalers Altman, Johnsen, and Nilsen reached
it from the east and nearly circumnavigated it. After
some discussion about its name, it has received from Pro
fessor Mohn the name of King Charles Land, which is now
generally accepted. The wide strait which separates it from
Spitzbergen is called Olga Strait. It is now established
that Gillis saw GUlis's Land to the north-east of the archi-
pelago, and this land, which may perhaps be a link between
the Spitzbergen archipelago and that of Franz -Josef, has
been again sighted by Norwegian seal-hunters. Numerous,
small islands lie around the larger : — the Danes and Nor-
wegians Islands on the north-west, the Seven Islands on
the north, Outger Eeps, Brock, and Charles XII. Island
on the north-east, Waygat Islands and William I. Island
in Hinlopen Strait, the Ryk Yse Archipelago, Hope Island,
and the Thousand Islands (about a hundred small rocks)
to the east and south of Stans Foreland, and many other
jimaller ones. JIany of these small islands rise to a height
of 1500 to 1700 feet.i
The archipelago, which has the Greenland Sea to the
west and Barents Sea to the east, rises from a submarine
platform that extends from Bear Island north-eastwards
to Franz Joseph Land, and probably was an immense
arctic continent connected with Greenland during the
middle of the Tertiary period. The sea around Spitzbergen
has a depth of less than 100 fathoms. Owing to this
circumstance the ice readily accumulates round the shores;
and, although the glaciers of Spitzbergen do not give
origin to ice^^ergs so huge as those of Greenland, the
smaller icebergs and the pack-ice are thick enough to
prevent access to the shores except for a few months in
the year. Happily the Gulf Stream, which washes the
shores of Norway, after sending a branch to the east, flows
north to the western shores of Spitzbergen, moderating
its climate, and leaving an open passage which permits
whalers to approach the western coast even under the
most unfavourable conditions of ice in the arctic regions.
Drift-wood brought from lower latitudes, glass-floats of
the Norwegian fishermen, and even the large seeds of the
Entada Gigalohiuin, carried by the Gulf Stream from the
Gulf of .Mexico, are found at the northern extremity of
Spitzbergen. On the other hand, a cold current charged
with ice descends from higher latitudes along the eastern
coast, rendering approach extremely difficult. On this
account King Charles Land remained unknown until 1872,
and the eastern coast of North-East Land still continues
unexplored.
Owing to tlie •warm current, the cHinate of Spitzbergen is less
severe than in the corresponding latitudes of Greenland and Smith
Sound. The isotherm of 23° Fahr. (-5° C), which crosses the
middle of Eastern Siberia, touches its southern extremity, and
only the north-east coasts of West Spitzbergen and North-East Land
have an average yearly temperature so low as 14° to 10°'5 (-lO"
to - ll°-9 C. ).• At Mussel Bay (79° 53') the average yearly tem-
perature is 16° (January 14°'l, July 39°-3). Bear Island, notwith-
standing its more southerly position, has a lower temperature, as
the Gulf Stream does not touch it. Even in the coldest mouths of
the winter a thaw may set iu for a few days ; but, on the other
hand, snow sometimes falls in July and August. Spring comes in
June ; the snow becomes saturated with water and disappears in
places, and scurvy grass and the polar willow open their buds. By
the end of June the thermometer has ceased to sink below the
freezing-point at night ; July, August, and September are the
best months. In September, however, autumn sets iu on shore,
though the .whalers continue cruising until the end of the month
and even reach the highest latitudes. By the end of September
the pack-ice rapidly freezes into one solid mass. To move on this
mass, however, is exceedingly difficult, for the ice, owing to its
contraction and expansion, is either intersected by large fissures or
broken up and piled into heaps, wb'ch puts insuperable diflicultjef
in the way of sledge expeditions.
Glaciers are largely developed. On the high grounds the snow
under a level of from 1200 to 1500 feet disappears every year ; but
on the plateaus it continually accumulates, so as to cover them
with an immense ice-sheet, like that of Greenland, which slowly
discharges by the valleys towards the sea in the form of immense
glaciers. All North-East Land and the interior of West Spitz-
bergen are covered with such ice-sheets, which descend to King's
' Bear Island, half-way between the North Cape and Spitzbergen,
can hardly be reckoned to the S^^itzbergen archipelago. It was for-
merly renowned for its hunting grounds, but is very seldom visited
now. Ljing outside the course of the Gulf Stream, it is almost
entirely ice-bound
S P I T Z B E R G E N
409
r,v hv a "lacier 15 miUs vide, or by that already alluded lo in
?^mtl.-EastSnd, ^vhe^c the iee-elilTs are from 200 to 400 fee h,f;h
The e glaci.i-s, however, diseha.gingiuto comparatively shallow
ITv^ do not produce such icebergs as those of Greenland, lie
IwVs of the present epoch arc but trifling in comparison with
fvhat heywere during the Glacial period, when the entire country
■as buried under an°ice-sheet. which probably connected all the
.chipelago into one ice-bound coutiueut and spread far beyond
"ThetckboncT-the islands consists of thick l.vers of granite.
^;L and other archaic schists. But more rccc-t formations bear-
hi" mtness to a raueh more genial climate are not wanting. Ihe
Ca°bonifero«s period is represented by extensive coal-bcar.ng stiatn
the lowest \>f which are intermediate with the Devonian (Lielde Bay
strata) The Trias, also containing a rich fossd flora, is represented
tV black clay slate. Tlie Jurassic deposits are widely spread;
thev mostly belong to the Kelloway, and many of them_ arc coal-
bearin" To the same period belong the frequently occurring layers
of what was formerly called hypersthenite, but has "<>" been proved
to be (according to Zirkel's classification) diabase and dolente.
The most interesting formation is, however, the M'°«l«-- ftf
period close, geologically speaking, to the subsequent Glacial period
?,ui even to our own, Spitzbergen was covered witha lii^cum ,
regetation the like of which is now found only in the 60tl
r^allel in Scandinavia. The shores of Bel Sound, Ice Fjord, and
fcape Starostine in 78° Iff. lat. were covered with extensive peat
boi^s on the edges of which the marsh cypress flowered, dropping
itsleaves and blossoms into the marshes. Scqtmo^, P°l' "f'.^";';!^^^,'
■Janes and lar<re oaks also grew there, while ivy and tuck unde -
wood freely dev"eloped under their shadow, and thousands of insects
swain ed in the thicket. The most striking feature of tins Miocene
vegetation-a feature conclusively established by the researches of
Oswald Heer-is that Spitsbergen, Greenland Franz-Josef Land,
and Kova Zembla were at that time parts of one mmense con-
tinent, thus realizing the very conditions for the coldest climate,
if climate had to depend on telluric causes "nly- «<= " '>f f "'"^
moreover, in a manner that hardly admits of doubt that the uxuri-
ant vegetation so unmistakably borne witness to by tho Miocene
strata of the arctic regions could not have developed had it been
condemned to endure the long arctic night it now undergoes
This feature of the arctic Miocene flora is unexplained and will
remain so until higher cosmical laws are formu]ated to explain
changes of climate. A change in the position of the earths axis
of rotation (recently the subject of a serious discussion in England
and on the Continent) would seem to be the only adequate hypothesis
bv which to account for the warm vegetation of the period m ques-
tion in such proximity to the pole ; but this hypothesis would be
so much at variance with the present state of our knowledge that
we may wc*l hesitate to advance it. A brief recurrence of a warmer
climate-not nearly so warm as the Mupcene, yet somewhat warmer
than the present-was also experienced by Spitzbergen after the
lon-T period of glaciation as is proved by the occurrence of beds
witfi mussels, which are now found only in much warmer latitudes
This warmer Bost-Glaci.ll period-traces of which have been met
with throughout the arctic and subarctic regions— was followed by
a period of slow upheaval, which still continues.
The flora is of course poor. The only tree is tho polar willow,
which docs not exceed 2 inches in heidit and bears a few leaves not
larger than a man's finger-nail ; and the only bush is the crowberry
(Empclrum nigrum), to which the recently discovered cloudberry
hubus Cliamsemorns) may be added. But at the foot of the warmer
cliffs some loam has been formed notwithstanding the slowness of
putrefaction, and there, in contrast with the brownish icheus that
iover the hills, grows a carpet of mosses of the bnghtest green,
varic-rated with the golden-yellow flowers of the ranunculus (7f.
sulphitrcHS and hypcrborots), the Silcncx, the reddish heads of tlio
Pcdknlaris, the Oxyria reniformis (a foot high), tho large-leaved
scurvy ^Tass (Cochfcaria fcncstrala), several saxifrages, CcrasUmn
alpinum, Fotcntilla cmarginata, fox-tail grass {Alopccurvs alpums),
Dupontia Fischcri, Foa cenisia, pralcnsis, and stncta, with a few
large-flowered Pohjgona and Andromedx ; while on the driest spots
yellow poppies and whitlow grasses {Drahx), Canlamine bcUidifoha
several Urwadcffi, &c., are found. Even on the higher slopes 1500
feet above tho sea, the poppy, Zuzula hypcrborca. aniMeUaria
£du-ardsii are occasionally met with. Mosses, mostlv European
acquaintances, cover all places where peat has accumulated. Iho
slopes of the crags and tho blocks of stone on the beach are some-
times entirely covered with a luxuriant moss and lichen vegetation,
amou" the last being the so-called "famine bread {U^nbihcarM
M-ctica), which has maintained the life of so many arctic travellers.
Flowering plants arc represented by as many as ninety-six species,
of which eighty-one grow in Greenland and sixty-iiine m bcan-
<linavia : forty-'threo species aro alpine cosmopotitcs. and have been
In its distribution. The vegetation of the south has a decidedly
Lappish or F.uroiwan alpine character, while that of the north
coast is decidedly American, and recalls that of Melville. Island,
Many flowering plants which are common in north-west Spitz-
bergen are absent from the east coast, where the cold current is
inimical to both flora and fauna ; but, on the other hand, one moss
{Potlia hypcrborca) and one lichen (Usnca melaxantka) are found
there which are of American origin and grow both in North America
aud on the Coidilleras. Algx are most numerous, many, like the
brown Laiiiinaria and Nostoc communis, which fill all pools and are
the chief food of many birds, being familiar in Europe. Protococcus
nivalis covers the snow with its reddish powder.
The fauna, although not very rich in species, is exceedingly ric'
in individuals. It includes fifteen mammals, only two of whic
are terrestrial — the loiiidcer and the ice-fox — besides the usual in-
habitant of the arctic regions, the polar bear.= The number of
reindeer is really puzzling. In a single summer, or rather in the
course of a few weeks, no fewer than from 1500 to 2000 reindeer
were killed by hunters for several consecutive years previous to
18C8. Much emaciated in June, they gi-ow very fat towards the
end of the autumn, after feeding on the mosses. Great numbers
are " marked " (that is, have both ears cut at the same height), and
the hunters are persuaded that these individuals come from an un-
known continent in the north-east, where they h.ave been marked
by the hand of man. However strange this liypothesis, it must be
acknowledged that the objections urged against it by the Swedish
explorers are not conclusive, and that frost-bite attacking young
calves could hardly account for the symmetrical markings on both
ears. The immense numbers of the reindeer strongly support the idea
of their migration, and the only question is whether they came from
Liberia rsfr.''Nova Zembla, or whether they did not really come from
the unknown archipelagoes on the north-east, the existeucc of which
is supported by so many other data (immobility of the ice to the
east of Spitzbergen, dirty ice, birds met with off North-East Land,
as well as several other considerations of a more general character).
Eight Cetaceans are met with in the seas off Spitzbergen, vi^.,—
Bal^uoptcra boops, 80 to 110 feet long; B. gigas and B. rosirata,
30 feet long ; tho white whale {Beluga catodon), three species
of seals [Phoca barbala, grocnlandica, and hispida), and the walrus
{Trichechus or Odobxnus rosmarus). The Greenland whale has
completely disappeared in consequence of the gi-eat havoc made
durinn- the last two centuries : according to Scoresby, no less than
57,590 individuals were killed between 16G9 and 1775. A perfectly
reckless extermination of seals is stUl going on. Numberless wal-
ruses tumble about in the water, or lie in crowds on the floating
ice ; and their number further increases when the flocks of Green-
land seals arrive in August. ,, , ^, «■«.
■Birds visit tlio archipelago "in such vast Cocks that the Clitls
are literally covered with them. Tho fulmar petrel {ProccUaria
glacialis)--a. herald of polar regions— meets the ships approaching
Spitzbergen far away from the coasts. Its colonies cover the cliffs,
as also do those of the glaucous gull (Larus glaucus), or the " burgo-
master." Rotches {Mcrgulus alba), black guillemots ( Uria grylla),
ivory gulls {Larm cburncus), auks, and kittiwake gulls (Larus
Cridactylws) breed extensively on the cliffs, while geese, looms, and
snipe swarm on and about the lagoons and small freshwater ponds.
The bernacle goose {Anscr bcrnicta) is only a bird' of passage, as it
goes farther north-east to nest. The eider breeds in large colonies
on the islands, where its young are safe from the ice-fox, only the
glaucous gull and the brent goose {Bernicla brenta) being admitted
to keep tliem company,' while the lumme {Mormon orciiCHs) and
the tern confine themselves to separate cliffs. These birds, how-
ever, are only guests in Spitzbergen, the snow-bunting 'Embcnza.
nivalis) being the only species which stays permanently ; twenty-
three species breed regularly on Spitzbergen, and four others (the
falcon, snowy owl, swan, and skua) come occasionally.
There are twenty-three species of fishes, but no reptiles. Insects
aro few : Lcpidoplcra (one species), Neuropkra (one), nymenoplcra
(four), and Diptcra (twenty) have been met -with by the Swedish
expeditions. Arachnids, and especially Pantopods, On the other
hand, aro very common. JIoUuscs are also very numerous, embracing
no less than 130 species. In Juno sneral Limacmcm aro met
with in such numbers on tho coast and at the mouth of the glacier
streams as to constitute tho chief food of tho gulls. At some
places tho mussels and univalves reach a comparatively colossal size
and appear in incredible abundance. Of Crustaceans no fewor tlian
100 species have been n-cognizcd in tho waters of the archipelago.
The marine fauna is exceedingly rich in the bluish warmer waters
of tho Gulf Stream, and the drcdgings of the Swedish expeditions,
which were prosecuted oven under tho ice, never failed to bring to
tho surface a rich variety of remarkable or new fornis. I'rom a
depth of 8400 foot tho "bull-dog" machine lifted mud of i ' '^^-
uiet with on the llimalavas. The ferns aro represented by two
species.' Although thus limited in number, tho flora is suggestive
■ lAccordiDKt- Mi-Xaatliorsfsrcsoarchcs in 1882 (Sv. Vttcmtcavs Moil. Ilaml-
22-lU*
ns follows -.—nosaccn', Y species ; Sazifragcx, 10 ; Cnicifrmt.Vj .
6: Silmm and Ahinta; 12; Salix, 2; Composxlif, I':.j»™l., ,, , „. , - •
^<liac^; 1.' T?,e wLlc of'tlii^ flom l.nmlgratod during tho PosVolsd.! period,
which was wanner than the present „„_.,.
a Iho cxisteiieo ot tUo AmimUi kudsonia Is not qulto provoa.
410
S P L — S P O
tnie of 33° Falir. (0°-3 C.) charged trith Radiolarians, Pblpthulamx,
Olobigeriyix, Biloculinx, Dentttlia, A-aHLKonioninic, together with
some Annelids (Kpiochxtoptencs and Cirratulus), two Crustaceans
(Guiua rubicunda s.\i^ Apscudes), one ilollusc, two Holothurix,
one Gephyrea, and one Sponge. Even at a depth of 15,900 feet
animal life was found iu unexpected profusion, the laud consist
ing almost entirely of brown and white Foraminifcrx, among them
one Crustacean (a species of Cttina). But marine life is much poorer
on the east coast, resembling that of Greenland.
Man does not live on Spitzbergen, and the attempts of the Swedes
to -winter there have for the most part proved failures, except in
the case of the "Sofia" expedition, which succeeded in wintering
without great loss, though not without suffering from scurvy.
None but the Russian "Pomory" (inhabitants of the Murman coast)
have succeeded in enduring the arctic winters. The patriarch of
Spitzbergen, the Pomor Staraschin (Starostine), spent no less than
thirty-two winters (fifteen being consecutive) on the islands, dying
of old age in 1826. There was a time in the 17th and .ISth cen-
turies when thousands of Dutch, Danes, and others were attracted
to Spitzbergen by the whale-fishing. Whole villages sprang up on
the shores, the best being that of the Dutch— Smeerenberg— which
is said to have been visited by 18,000 men in a single summer. The
"right whale" having disappeared, the whalers ceased to visit
Spitzbergyi, and only quite recently an attempt has been made to
renew tlie pursuit of the JBalxnoplcra loops. The chief object of
pursuit is the walrus, carried on by Norwegians ; sea-birds and
eider are also occasionally sought.
History. — Spitzbergen was discovered in 1596 by 'WilHam Barents,
and his companion, Cornelius Rijp, is believed to have circumnavi-
gated the archipelago. Nevertheless it was long considered as a
part of Greenland, and described under the names of East Green-
land, Newland, King James's Land, until the old name of Spitz-
bergen gained the ascendency. But long before Barents discovered
it tne Russians had known it under the name of Grumant (a word
of unknown origin), and when Chancellor arrived at Archangel
in 1553 he learned that the Russians visited Grumant for hunting
purposes. After the 17th and 18th century whalers, the Russians
began to visit the group; chiefly for walruses, seals, foxes, rein-
deer, bears, and birds ; their huts and crosses are met with at very
many places on the coast. Many wintered for several consecutive
\vinters. Since 1830 their visits have almost ceased. The Nor-
wegians began to visit the archipelago about 1795, and their small
vessels now visit the Spitzbergen waters in considerable numbers.
In 1822 a party wintered successfully, but later attempts have for
the most part proved fatal on account of scurvy. To these ex-
I)erienced arctic navigators — assisted by Norwegian savants— ^"wa
are indebted for so many important discoveries in the Barents,
Kara, and Siberian Seas.
Several expeditions have made Spitzbergen their base in attempts
to reach the north pole. The Russian admiral Tchitchagoff visited
it twice, in 1765 and 1766, and reached 80" 28' N. lat. John
Phipps mapped the north of Spitzbergen in 1773, and reached 80"
37' N. lat. In 181 <J Buchan and Franklin reached 80° 34' to the
north of the archipelago. Clavering and Sabine in 1323 explored
the islands, and Sabine made his remarkable magnetic observations,
while Clavering reached 80° 20' N. lat. Parry, shortly after his
return from his third voyage, went to Spitzbergen and reached 82°
44' N. lat. on sledges. In the same year the Norwegian, geologist
Keilhau visited tlie group and has related his experiences in a
remarkable Ijook, Hesa i Ost og TVesl Finmarken. The Swedish pro-
fessor Lovdn was tlie first to undertake, in 1837, dredging and
geological explorations in Spitzbergen and its vicinity. Next year
a body of French, Swedish, Danish, and Norwegian naturalists,
amongwhom was Charles Martins, visited the western coast. From
1858 onwards the archipelago has been the object of a series of
ficientifie expeditions. At the suggestion of Lov^n, Otto Torell,
accompanied by Nordenskjbld and Quennerstedt, opened the series,
making many important observations and bringing home rich
geological collections. In 1861 a larger expedition led by Torell,
Nordenskjold, Malragren, Chydenius, and Petersen set out with the
object of finding how far it was possible to obtain a measurement
of an arc of meridian of sufficient extent. This aim was only partly
accomplished, but the expedition returned with an invaluable stock
of various observations. The work of the measurement of the arc
was completed in 1864 by another expedition conducted by Nor-
denskjbld, assisted by Malmgren and Duner, who returned again
with a vast number of new and important observations. This ex-
S edition was followed in 1S68 by that of the "Sofia," under Nor-
enskjold, having on its scientific staff Holmgren, Malmgren. and
F. Smitt, zoologists ; Berggren and Fries, botanists ; Lemstrbm,
physicist ; and NauckhofT. geologist. They were prevented by ice
from getting higher than 81° 42' N. lat. ; but, to use Oswald Heer's
words, the expedition " achieved more and gave a wider extension
to the horizon of our knowledge than if it had returned merely
with the information that the ' Sofia ' had hoisted her flag on the
north pole." In 1S70 two young Swedish-savants, Nauckhorst and
AVilander, visited Sp-tzbergeu iu order to examine the phosphoric
deposits, and two years later a colony was formed in Ice Fjord, and
a small railway constructed to work the beds. The attempt, how-
ever, did not prove successful. Mr Leigh Smith and the Norwegian
Captain Ulve visited and mapped parts of East Spitzbergen in 1871,
returning wi th valuable information. They reached 81" 24' N. lat.
Iu the same year Mr Lamont visited the archipelago. In 1872 a
great polar expedition set out to winter on Spitzbergen with the
intention of attempting in the spring to advance towards the pole
on sledges drawn by reindeer. But the expedition encountered a
series of misfortunes. The ships were beset in the ice very early
in Mussel Bay, and, six Norwegian fishing vessels having been like-
wise overtaken and shut in, the expedition had to feed the crews
on its provisions and thus to reduce the rations of its own men.
The reindeer all made their escape during a snow-storm ; and, when
the sledge party reached the Seven Islands, they fouud the ice so
packed that all idea of going north had to be abandoned. Instead
of this, Nordenskjold explored North-East Land and crossed the
vast ice-sheet which covers it. The expedition returned in 1873
with a fresh store of important scientific observations, especially in
phj'sics and submarine zoology. In 1873 Drasche, the geologist,
paid a short visit to Spitzbergen, and the Dutch polar expedition
approached it in 1882. In 1882 the Swedish geologists Naathorst
and De Geer made a journey to which we are indebted for most
interesting data about the flora of the islands. In the same year
a polar meteorological station was established at Cape Hordsen for
carrying on the observations desired by the international polar
committee. The year 1883 being very favourable, the Norwegian
walrus-hunters Andreasen and Johannesen pushed to the north-east
of Spitzbergen and discovered new land to the north-east of the
archipelago apparently extending as far as 39° E. long.
Bibliogyapfi.y. — The literature of the subject is very voluminous, and for full
bibliographical details reference must be made to such works as Chvdenius'a
Sveiiska Expcditioneii til Spelsbergcn, translated into German by Passarge (Jena,
1869); A. Leslie's Arctic Koyajes of A. E.^Kordens^jold f London, 1S79); and
Cliavamie's Bibliographic der Polar. Begionen, 1ST8. Tne earliest maps of
Spitzbergen up to 1864 have been reprinted in a Dutch publication (Tijdschrijt
van hct Aardrijkskinidig Genotschop te Amsterdan, pt. iii.); it contains the
maps of 1596, 16r2, 1625, 1634, 1642, 1 648, and so on. f^termann's MUtheilungeUj
with ErgaTu:ung$ru\ftCj the Geographische Jahrbitcher, the Imer (journal of the
.Swedish Geo^-aphical Society), and the Journal of the Roy. Geog, Socicti/ con-
tain more or less detailed accounts of aliftJie Swedish expeditions up to dale.
The scientific results of the Swedish expeditions are embodied in very many
papers, amounting to from 6000 to 7000 printed pages, reference to which will
DC found in the above-mentioned works and periodicals. Oswald Heer's Flora
Fosailis Arcti'^a deserves special mention. Every volume of the memoirs and
proceedings (Handlingar and Fbrhandlingar) of the Swedish Academy of
Sciences contains some remarkable contributions to our scientific knowledge
of the far north, and the same can be said of many volumes of ihe Christiania
Academy of Sciences and the Swedisli Geological, Botanical, and Zoological
Societies. (P. A. K.)
SPLEEN. See Vascular System. For diseases of
the spleen, see Pathology, vol. sviii. p. 376 sq.; also
JIalaeia and Wool-Sorter's Disease.
SPOHR, LuDWiG (1784^1859), violinist and composer,
was born at Brunswick on 2.5tli April 1784, but spent his
childhood at Seesen, -n-here in 17S9 he began to study the
violin, and worked so industriously that at sis years old he
was able to take the leading part in Kalkbrenner's trios.
He received his general education at the Brunswick gram-
mar-school,— taking lessons on the violin from Kunisch
and studying composition under Hartung. The little he
learned from the last-named professor was the only theoreti-
cal instruction he ever received, for, as he himself tells us,
he taught himself to compose by studying the scores of
Mozart. After playing a concerto of his own at a school
concert with marked success, he was placed for a time
under Maueourt, the leader of the duke's band; and so
rapid was his progress that in 1798 he was able to start
on his first artistic tour. This proved a failure ; but on
his return to Brunswick the duke gave him an appointment
in his band, and defrayed the expense of his future educa-
tion under Franz Eck, in company with whom he visited
St Petersburg and other European capitals. His first
violin concerto was printed in 1803. In that year Spohr
returned to Brunswick and resumed his place in the duke's
band. A visit to Paris was prevented by the loss of his
favourite violin, — a magnificent Guarnerius, presented to
him in Russia. Having played in Berlin, Leipsic, Dresden,
and other German towns, his increasing reputation gained
for him in 1805 the appointment of leading violinist at
the court of the duke of Gotha. Soon after this he married
his first wife, Dorette Scheidler, a celebrated harpist. At
Gotha he composed his first opera, Bie Prufvng, but did
b J^ O H R
411
not succeed iu placing it on the stage. Alruiia was equally
unfortunate, though it was rehearsed with approval at
Weimar in 1808. During this year Spohr accomplished
one of the most extraordinary musical exploits on record.
Hearing that Talma was performing at Erfurt before the
reigning princes assembled for the famous congress, and
tailing in his attempt to obUiin admission to the theatre,
ho bribed a horn-player to send him as his deputy ; and,
though he had never touched a horn in his life, he learned
in a single day to play it so well that in the evening
he was able to fulfil his self-imposed duty without excit-
ing suspicion or remark. Spohr's third opera, Bcr Zivei-
kampf mit der Gdiehien, written in 1809, was successfully
performed at Hamburg in the following year. In 1811
ho produced his (first) Symphony in Eo, and in 1812
composed his first oratorio. Das jiingste Gericht} It was
while employed in the preparation of this work that he
first felt the inconvenience inseparable from an imperfect
theoretical education; and, with characteristic energy, he
set about the diligent study of Marpurg's Abhandlimg von
der Fu ■€.
In 1 J 12 Sphor visited Vienna, where his splendid violin-
(jlaying created a profound sensation, and he was induced
to accept the appointment of leader of the orchestra at the
Theater na der Wieh. He then began the preparation of
his greatest dramatic composition, Faust, which he com-
pleted in 1813, though it was not performed until five
years later. His strength as a composer was now fully
developed; and the fertility of his imagination enabled
him to produce one great work after another with aston-
ishing rapidity. He resigned his appointment at Vienna
. in 1815, and soon afterwards made a tour in Italy, where
he performed his eighth violin concerto, the Scena Caniante
nello Stilo Drammatico, — the finest of his compositions for
his favourite instrument. The performer was described
by the leading critics of the countrj' as "the finest singer
on the violin that had ever been heard." On Spohr's
return to Germany in 1817 he was appointed conductor of
the opera at Frankfort; and in that city in 1818 he first
produced his dramatic masterpiece, Faust. The favour
with which this was received led to the composition of
Zemire wid Azor, a romantic piece founded on the story
of Beauty and the Beast, which, though by no means equal
to its predecessor in merit, soon attained a much higher
degree of popularity. There can, indeed, be no doubt
that Favst suffered from the very first from the weakness
of its miserable libretto. Had tho words been worthy of
the music Faust would have taken rank among the finest
German operas in existence.
Spohr first visited England in 1 820, and on 6th March
[ilayed his Scena Cantante with great success at the first
Philharmonic concert. At the third he produced a new
Symphony (No. 2) in D minor, written expressly for this
occasion, which is remarkable as the first on which the
conductor's hdton was used at a concert of the Philharmonic
Society. Spohr's new symphony met with an enthusiastic
reception, as did the earlier one (No. 1, in Eb), which was
played, together with his Konctto, at the last concert of the
series. Indeed he had a triumphant success both as com-
poser and as virtuoso ; and he on his side was delighted
with the performances of tho Philharmonic orchestra.
Before leaving London he gave a farewell concert, at
which Madame Dorette Spohr played on the harp for the
last time. Her health at this pi'riod was so delicate that
she was recommended to exchange her favourite instni-
ment for tho less fatiguing pianoforte ; and Spohr, with
his accustomed facility, wrote a number of pieces for
pianoforte and violin, which the husband and wife played
' Literally Thr Lust Judgment, but not to be confounded with tlio
oratorio now so well known by that name in Kiiglaud.
together with perfect artistic sympathy. Aficr supple-
menting his visit to England by a short sojourn in Paris,
Spoiir returned to Germany and settled for a time in
Dresden, where German and Italian opera were flourishing
side by side under the direction of Weber and Sforlacchi.
His artistic relations with the composer of Der FretschiiU
were not altogether satisfactory ; nevertheless Weber did
not hesitate to recommend him strongly to tho elector of
Hesse Cassel as " kapellmeister." Spohr entered upon his
duties at §assel on 1st January 1822, and soon afterwards
began the composition of his sixth opera, Jessonda, which
he produced in 1823. This work — which be himself
always regarded as one of his best productions — marks
an important epoch in his career as a dramatic composer.
It was tho first opera he ever wrote with accompanied
recitative throughout in place of tho usual spoken dia-
logue ; and by a remarkable coincidence it was produced
in the same year as Weber's Euryanthc, a work charac-
terized by the same departure from established custom.
Unhappily Weber's early death prevented him from making
a second essay in the same direction ; but Spohr consist-
ently carried out the idea in his later operas, and always
with marked success.
Spohr's appointment at Cassel gave him the opportunity
of bringing out his new works on a grander scale anc^
with more careful attention to detail than ho could have
hoped to attain in the service of a less generous patron
than the elector. And he never failed to use these privi-
leges for the purpose of doing justice to tho works of other
composers. Soon after his instalment in his new ofiico
Mendelssohn, then a boy of thirteen, visited Cassel with
his father ; notwithstanding the disparity of their years,
a firm and lasting friendship sprang up between the rising
genius and the already famous composer, which ceased
only with Mendelssohn's death in 1817 ; and in other
similar cases Spohr always proved himself ready to ap-
preciate and foster thT talent displayed by others, though
it must be admitted that aa a critic ho was very difficult
to please. The success of Jessonda led him to produce in
1825 a seventh opera — Der Bcrggeist — founded upon the
old German legend of Riibezahl, the ruling spirit of the
Riesengebirge. Though less popular than its predecessor,
this fine work attained a very fair success. But a far
greater triumph awaited the composer at the Rhenish
musical festival held at Diisseldorf in 1826. On this
occasion his oratorio Die leizten Dinge met with so en-
thusiastic a reception that it had to be repeated a few
days later for the benefit of a charity. This work, known
in England as The Last J%(dgment, is undoubtedly tho
greatest of Spohr's sacred compositions, and is remarkable
as the first oratorio in which the romantic element is freely
introduced, with marked success throughout, and without
detriment either to the solemnity of the subject or the
sobriety of stylo which has always been regarded as an
indispensable characteristic of sacred music of tho highest
order. In 1827 Spohr produced his eighth opera, Fiffro
von Abano, the plot of whicji depends for its chief interest
upon the resuscitation by the famous necromancer of a
lady long since dead and committed to the tomb. Tho
work met with a fair, though not a lasting, success ; and
tho same may be said of a much finer opera, Dir Ahhymist,
produced in 1830. Spohr's next publication was of a very
diflerent character. His Violin School, produced in 1831,
is so useful as a code of instruction for advanced students
that there is probably no great violinist now living who
lias not been more or less indebted to it for tho perfection
of his technique. It holds with regard to tho violin a-
position no less important than that which Cramer's Studit*
has so long held in conncxion"with tho pianoforte.
The year 1833 Spohr spent iu tho preparation of a l.v»
412
S P 0 — S P 0
oratorio — Des Heiland's letzte Stunden, known in England
as Calvary or The Crucifixion — which was performed at
Cassel on Good Friday 1835, and sung in English at the
Norwich festival of 1839, under Spohr's own direction,
with such unexampled success that he was accustomed to
speak of this event as the greatest triumph of his life.
For the Norwich festival of 1842 he composed Tne Fall
of Babylon, which also was a perfect success. His last
opera, Die Krcuzfahrer, was produced at Cassel in 1845.
Of his nine symphonies the finest. Die Weihe der Tone,
was produced in 1832. His compositions for the violin
include concertos, quartetts, duets, and other concerted
pieces and solos, adapted for the chamber and the concert
room, and among these a high place is taken by four
double quartetts, — a form of composition of which he was
both the inventor and the perfecter. He was, indeed,
very much inclined to explore new paths, notwithstanding
hisattachmerif to classical form, and his freedom from
])rejudice was proved b/the care with which he produced
AVagner'i^ Flying^ Dutchman and Tannhduser at Cassel in
1842 and 1853, in spite of the elector's opposition. Spohr
retained Lis appointment until 1857, when, very much
against his wish, he was pensioned off. In the same year
he broke his arm, but he was able to conduct Jessonda at
Prague in 1858. This, however, was his last effort. He
died at Cassel on 16th October 1859. (w. s. e.)
SPOLETO (Lat. Spoletium), a city of Italy, in Umbria,
l)laced in a commanding position near the Via Flaminia,
between Eome and Perugia, is said to have been colonized
in 240 B.C. (Liv., Epit, xx.; Veil. Pat., i. 14), and is called
by Cicero {Pro Balb., 21) "colonia Latina in primis firma
et illustris." After the battle of Trasimenus (217 B.C.)
Spoletium was attacked by Hannibal, who was repulsed
by the inhabitants (Liv., xxii. 9). During the Second
Punic War the city was a useful ally to Rome. It suffered
greatly during the civil wars of Marius and Sulla. The
latter, after his victory over Crassus, confiscated the terri-
tory of Spoletium and reduced it to the rank of a ^military
colony. Under the empire it again became a flourishing
town (Strabo, v. p. 227; Plin., H.N., iii. 14; Ptol., iii.
1, 54). Owing to its elevated position it was an important
stronghold during the Vandal and Gothic wars ; its walla
were dismantled by Totila (Procop., Bell. Get., iii. 12).
Under the Lombards Spoleto became the capital of an
independent duchy (from c. 570), and its dukes ruled a
considerable part of central Italy. Together with other fiefs,
it was bequeathed to Pope Gregory VII. by the empres.«
Matilda, but for some time struggled to maintain its inde
pendence. In 1881 it had a population of 7969 (commune,
21,507), many of whom are occupied in the weaving of
woollen stuffs. It is the seat of an archbishopric for the
thi-ee dioceses of Spoleto, Bevagna, and Trevi.
The city contains many interesting ancient remains, — traces of au
early polygonal wall, a Roman theatre, and parts of three temples,
built into the churches of S. Agostiiio, S. Andrea, and S. Giuliano.
Remains of a fine Roman bridge were found a few years ago buried
in the former bed of a torrent, which now runs along a different
line. These remains have recently been buried again under a
newly made road. On the citadel, which commands the town,
still stands an ancient castle, originally built by Theodoric. This
castle was mostly destroyed by the Goths, but was afterwards re-
built and enlarged at many dilferent times, especially by Tope
Nicholas V. The existing building contains work of many different
dates. The cathedral of S. Maria Aesunta dates partly from the
time of the Lombard duehy, but was much modernized in 1644.
Over the main entrance is a very interesting and large mosaic oj
Christ in Majesty signed "Salseruus," 1207; at the sides are figures
of the Virgin and St John. In the choir and on the half cupola
of the apse are some of the finest frescos of Lippo Lippi, represent-
ing scenes from the life of the Virgin. Lippo died in 1469, leaving
part of the work to be completed by his assistant Fra Diamante.
The fine stalls and panelling in the choir are attributed to Bramante.
The church of S. Pietro is a fine early example of Lombard archi-
tecture, though much modernized. The facade is remarkable for its
rich sculptured decorations of grotesque figures, dragons, and foliage.
S. Domenico is a fine example of later Italian Gothic with bands of
diff'erent coloured stones. The three-apsed crypt of the church of
S. Gregorio is of great interest ; it probably dates from the found-
ing of the church in the 9th century. S. Niccolo is a beautiful
example of Pointed Gothic.
The city is still supplied with water by a grand aqueduct (see
vol. ii. pi. IV.) across the adjacent gor^e ; it has stone piers and
brick arches, and is about 268 feet high and 676 feet long. It is
said to have been built in 604 by Theodelapius, the third Lombard
duke, and the stone piers belong probably to that time. The brick
arches are later restoiations.
SPONGES
THIS great advance which has been made during the
past fifteen years in our knowledge of the sponges
is due partly to the vivifying influence of the evolutional
hypothesis, but still more to the opportunities afforded by
novel methods of technique. To the strength and weak-
ness of the deductive method Haeckel's work on the Kalk-
schwcimme (<$)i is a standing testimony, while the slow but
sure progress which accompanies the scientific method is
equally illustrated by the works of Schulze (^o), who by
a masterly application of the new processes has more
than any one else reconstructed on a sure basis the general
morphology of the sponges. In the general progress the
fossil sponges have been involved, and the application of
Nicol's method of studying fossil organisms in thin slices
has led, in the hands of Zittel.and others (^4, js), to a
complete overthrow of those older classifications which
relegated every obscure petrifaction to the fossil sponges
and consigned them all to orders no longer existing. But,
whilst many problems have been solved, still more have
been suggested. An almost endless diversity in details
differentiates the sponges into a vast number of specific
forms; the exclusive possession in common of a few simple
characters closely unites them into a compact group, sharply
marked off from the rest of the animal kingdom.
' These numbers refer to the bibliography at the end of the article.
SpOQ^
Structure and Form.
Descnption of a Simple Sponge. — As an example of one Simple
of the simplest known sponges we select
Ascetta primordialis (fig. 1), Haeckel.
This is a hollow vase-like sac closed at
the lower end, by which it is attached,
opening above by a comparatively large
aperture, the osculum or vent, and at the
sides by numerous smaller apertures or i
pores, which perforate the walls. Ex-
cept for the absence of tentacles and
the presence of pores it offers a general
resemblance to some simple form of
Hydrozoon. Histologically, however, it
presents considerable differences, since,
in addition to an endoderm and an ecto-
derm, a third or mesodermic layer con-
tributes to the structure of the walls ;
and the endoderm consists of cells (see
fig. 2\g) each of which resembles in all
essential features those complicated uni-
cellular organisms kno\vn as choano-
flagellate Infusoria (see Peotozq i, vol.
xix. p. 858). With this positive charac-
ter is associated a negative orfe : nemato- Fm- 1-
cysts are entirely absent. The activity
-Asretta primordi
alis.Hk. Afl«:rHat:ukeL
SPONGES
413
M the Ascena, as of all sponges, is most obviously mani-
fested, as Grant (j) first observed, by a rapid outflow of
water from the osculo and a gentle instreaming through
the pores, — a movement brought about by the energetic
action of the flagella of the
endodermic cells. The in-
streaming currents bear with
them into the cavity of the
sac (paragastric cavity) both
protoplasmic particles (such as
Infusoria, diatoms, and other
small organisms) and dissolved
oxygen, which are ingested by
the flagellated cells of the en-
doderm. The presence of one
or more contractile vacuoles in
these cells suggests that they
extricate water, urea, and car-
bonic acid. The insoluble re-
sidue of the introduced food,
together with the fluid excreta,
is carried out through the os-
cule by the excurrent water.
New individuals are produced
from the union of ova and
spermatozoa, which develop
from wandering amoeboid cells
in the mesoderm. The walls
of Ascetta are strengthened by
calcareous scleras, more especi-
ally designated as spicules, Fio. 2.—Bomoderma symndra, Lla.
which have the form of tri- One half cut away by a vertical
' u, ^/ .. u iu.iii v/i ./li median section. After V. Lenden-
radiate -needles. If we make feidcx about c).
abstraction of these we obtain an ideal sponge, which
Haeckel has caUed Olynthus (6), and which may be rer
Canal System. — We shall now trace the ser«al modifi-
cations which the Olyntkm has undergone as espvesseu '.n
the different types of canal system.
The simple paragastcr of Ascetta may become compli- ascod
cated in a variety of ways, such as by the budding off ')!*
from a parent form of stolon-like extensions, which then
give rise to fresh individuals, or by the branching of the
Ascon sac and the subsequent anastomosis of the branches;
but in no case, so long as the sjionge remains within the
Ascon type, does the endoderm become differentiated into
difierent histological elements. The most interesting
modification of the Ascon form occurs in Homoderma sy-
candra {rs), in which from the walls of a simple Ascon
csecal processes grow out radiately in close regular whorls,
each process reproducing the structure of the parent
sponge (figs. 2, 3). From this it is but a short step to
the important departure which gives rise to the Sycons.
In the simplest examples of this type the cha'-acters of Sycot
Homoderma sycandra are reproduced, with the important '5T>eJ
exception that the endoderm lining the paragastric cavity
of the original Ascon form loses its primitive character.
\
■A
FiCB. — Homoderma sycandra, Lfd. TransvcrBO flection, ahowlnc rarllal tubes opening
into central paragaalric cavity. After V. Lcudcnfcld (x about 12).
garded as the ancestral form from which all other sponges
have been derived. To give greater exactness to our ab-
straction wo should perhaps stipulate for the Olynthus a
somewhat thicker mesoderm and more spherical form than
a decalcified Ascon presents.
^,
Pro. 4.—neteropegma Twdm-gordii, Pol. Part of a transverse section. The straight
lines indicate spicules .■ the poriferous surface is uppermost ; the branching
radial tubes are rendered dark by numerous small circles representiilg
choanocytes. After Polejaeff, " Challenger " Bcporl ( x iO).
and from a layer of flagellated cells becomes converted
into a pavement epithelium, not in any distinguishable
feature different from that of the ectoderm. The
flagellated cells arc thus restricted to the CKcal
outgrowths or radial tubes. Concurrently with
this differentiation of the eudoderm a more abun-
dant development of mesoderm occurs. In some
Sycons {Sycaltis, Hk.) the radial tubes remain
{Separate and free; in others they lie close together
■and are united by trabecula;, or by a trabecular,
network, consisting of mesodermic strands sur-
rounded by ectoderm (fig. 4). The spaces between
the contiguous radial tubes thus become converted
into narrow canals, through which water passes
from the exterior to enter the pores in the walls
of the radial tubes. These canals are the " intcr-
canals" of Haeckel, now generally known by their
older name of incurrent canals. The openings of
the incurrent canals to the exterior are called
pores, a term which wo have also applied to the
openings which lead directly into the radial tubes
or paragastric cavity; to avoid ambiguity we shall
for the future distinguish the latter kind of open-
ing as a proso}->yle. The term "pore" will then be
restricted to the sense in which it was originally used by
Grant. The mouth by which a radial tube opens into the
paragaster is kno^^Ti as a gastric ostium. In the higher
formsof Sycons the radial tubes no longer arise as simple out .
growths of the whole sponge-wall, but, rather as outxrowtlis
414
S X- O W G E »
of tlie endoderm into the mesoderm, which, together with
the ectoderm, exhibits an independent growth of its own ;
and this results ia the formation of a thick investment,
known as the cortex (fig. 5), to the whole exterior of the
Tio.5. — UtcArffcu(ea,Fo\. Part of a transverse spctfon- The concentric circles,
indicating transverse sections of spicuijss, lie witliin tlio cortex. After Pole-
jaeff. " Chalknger" Jttport (xlOO).
sponge. The radial tubes may branch, Heteropegmia (fig.
4). If the branches are given off regularly, as the radial
tubes were in the first plan, and if at the same time the
original radial tube exchanges its flagellated for a pave-
ment epithelium, a structure as shown in fig. 6 (Puly'na
Pia. 6.— Po/rjrra toiMieitodi'PoL Part of a transverse section. B, excorrent
canals, into wtuohtlieflageUitedcliantbef&oiaeQ. After Polejae£r,"CAaUenacr"
Report ( X 30).
connexiva, Pol.) will result. This form might also be
brought about by imequal growth of the gastral endoderm
leading to a folding of the inner part of the sponge-wall.
Very little direct evidence exists as to which of these two
plans has actually been followed. Phylogenetically the
transition from a simple Ascon to the most complicated
Sycon can be traced step by step; and ontogeny shows
that such a Sycon form as Grantia raphanus passes through
an Ascon phase in the course of its larval development.
Returning to the ancestral form of sponge, Olynthus,
i»t us conceive the endoderm growing out into a number
of approximately spherical chambers, each of which com-
municates with the exterior by a prosopyle and with the
paragastric cavity by a comparatively large aperture, which
We may term for distinction an apopyle; at the same titne
let the endoderm lose its flagellated character and become
converted into a pavement epithelium, except in the
spherical chambers. Such a form, called by Haeckel
"dyssycus," may be more briefly named a Rliagrm from
the grape-like form of its flagellated chambers, which differ
from those of a Sycon both by their form and their smaller
dimensions. The Elagon occurs as a stage in the early
development of Plakina monolopha (Schuize) and Reaierc-
ferlilis (p) (fig. 7) ; a calcareous sponge which appears to
r. — Vertical nection of a Rhagon, partly diagi^ramatic
paragaster. -After Eelier (x about 100).
0, oscule : ' p»
approach it somewhat is Leucopsis pedwiculafa, Lfd. By
the folding of the wall of a Rhagon, or by its. outgrowtli
into lobes, a complicated structure such as that of Plakina
moiiolopka (20) (see fig. 26/) results. This is chiiracter
Fio. S. — Ti-ansverse section across an excurrent canal and surrounding choano-
some of Cydonium eosastcr, Soil, e, excurrent canal ; /, flagellated cliambers
communicating with it by aphodal canals ; i, an incmrent c.inal cut across ; j,
asterraster; o, an osea cut aoross. ASierSoU^iS," Challenger" £eport{xl25),
ized by the chambers retaining their immediate communi-
cation with the incurrent and excurrent canals, opening
into the latter by the widely open apopyle and receiving
the former by one otz^
several prosopyles. This , jj
may be termed the eurt/-
pylo^is type of Rhagon
canal system. The fold- r^O^j
ing of the sponge- wall ^f-
may be simple, as in the m
example givim, or too ; (§?^
complex to unravel. In ^^57-vi
higher forms of sponges ^ "^
(Geodinidie, Stellettidx) 0
the chambers cease to
open abruptly into the
excurrent canals : each is
prolonged into a narrow
canal, aphodus, or ahihis,
which usually directly,
sometimes after imiting
with one or more of its j-.q. g.-Kpiodal canal system in Corticivm.
fellows, opens into an candelabrum, O.S. <•, excurrent canal ; the
' -^ . ,—, incurrent canal is shown on the lcft-han>l
excurrent canal. Ine side, near its commencemont in tho cortex.
prosopyles, now restrict- ^'" ^- ^ ^chui^e (x 200).
ed to one for each chamber, may remain unchanged in
character, or at the most be prolonged into verv short,
s
P O IS G E S
Tubes, each a prosodus or aditus (fig. 8). Tli.s may oe
termed the aphodal or racemose type of Khagon system,
since the chambers at the ends of the aphodi radiating
Irom the excurrent canal look Uke grapes on a bunch. As
Haeckel, however, has used "racemose" in a different sense,
we shall adopt here the alternative term. By the exten-
sion of the prosodal or adital canals into long tubes a still
hi-her differentiation is reached (fig. 9). This which from
the marked presence of both prosodal and aphodal canaLs
may be termed the diplodal type of the Rhagon canal
system, occurs but rarely. ClMidrosia is an example. _
The folloAving schema wiU reader clear the foregoing
distinctions : —
1. Ascon type : sunple, ex. AsKlta, Hk. ; stiobUoid, ex. Eo^no-
2. SycoTtvpe:' simple radial tubes, ex. SyccUa,mi. ; braDChed
radial'tubcs (cyliudrical chambers), ex. Meleropegma, il.,
cliamber-layer folded, ex. Po^fjno, Pol.
3. RhaToii type : eiirypylous, mth several prosopyles to each
chamber, ex. Spomjdia; vAth a single prosopyle to each
chamber, ex. OsoarcUa, Tlunca; aphodal, aphodal canals well
developed, ex. Gcodia, Lrak.; diplodal, with both aphodal
and prosodal canals weU developed, ex. Ghondrosia, O.b.
In the case of the calcareous sponges Polejaeff has argued
forcibly that the eurypylous type arises directly froni the
Sycon and not from the Rhagon. It is therefore doubtful
how far the Ehagon in other sponges is a primitive form
derived directly from an Olynthus, or whether it may not
be a secondary larval state resulting from the abbreviated
development of a former Sycon predecessor. Whatever
may have been its past history, the Ehagon serves now at
all events as a starting-point for the development of the
higher forms of canal system.
Subd«. In the higher Ehagons, as in the Sycons, further com-
mal plicatio'ns ensue, owing to an independent growth of the
ravities. external ecxa,;erm and the adjacent mesoderm. While the
endoderm, with its associated mesoderm, is growing out
ax folding to form the excurrent canal system, the super-
ficial mesoderm increases rn thickness, and the ectoderm,
extending laterally from the sides of the incurrent sinuses,
burrows °into it, parallel "to the surface of the sponge.
Thus it forms beneath the sldn (i.e., the layer of superficial
mesoderm and investing ectoderm) cavities which may be
either sunple and spacious or be broken up into a number
of labyrinthine passages by a network of mesoblastic
strands (invested with ectoderm) which extend irregularly
from roof to floor of the chamber. These cavities are
known as suhdermal chambers.
With the appearance of subdermal chambers the sponge
Ecto- becomes differentiated into two abnost independent regions,
some, an outer or eciosome and an inner or choanoscmie, which is
choauo- ciiaracterized by the presence of fiageUated chambers.
*°"^ The ectosome forms the roof and walls of the subdermal
chambers, and is in its simplest form merely an investing
skin ; but in a large number of sponges it acquires con-
siderable thickness and a very comphcated histological
structure. It is then known as a cortex. The thickening
which gives rise to a cortex takes place chiefly beneath
those parts of the skin which are not furnished with pores.
Beneath the pores — in this case collected into sieve-like
areas — dome-like cavities are loft in the cortex; they open
freely into the subdermal cavities below and their roof is
formed by the cribriform pore membrane above. In many
sponges {Geodia, SteUetta) the cortical domes are constricted
near their communication with the subdermal cavity (sub-
cortical crypt) by a transverse muscular sphincter, which
defines an outer division or ectochme from an inner or
cndockoiie (fig. 10), the whole structure being a choiie.
The endochono is frequently absent (fig. 10). The early
development of the cortex has scarcely yet been studied.
In SteUetta p/m'Mrti«(Soll.). one of tho " Challenger" Hid-
41a
lettidx, an early form of the sponge (fig. 11), show^ laa
choanosome already characteristically folded within the
cortex, which forms a com- ^...^^ .=37 •ca» mrnr <13™» «
plete not-folded envelope r^^^—^--^ ^.-— -^^
aroimd it. The roots of r '^ ^
the incurrent sinuses form '
widely open spaces imn
diately beneath the con
and arc the rudiments of
subcortical crypts. Again, ^> , ^
in some sponges a part of >:
the endoderm and asso- i ,
ciated mesoderm may like-
wise develop .independ-
ently of the rest of the
sponge, as in the I/'xac-
tindLida, where the choa-
-.losome forms a middle
layer between a reticula-
tion of ectosome on the '^■
one side and of endoderm ^'
and mesoderm, i.e., endo-
some, on the other. Fin- .^.==,»~. — r-::: — rir — zr' r,r.^j,
,, '1 ,, 1 1^ ]„„„_ no. 10.— Section through the cortex or (If- Ena»-
all}', the attacnett or lower ^o,ji„„, eosasUr, ScU., showing the roresom*.
Inlf nf a "Rbs.Eron mav de- sieve overlyinx the clKinc, which com
naU 01 a XlUdt,ou luo.\ uc ^^„ipjt(,3t^„osUasphinctr!it(!ar.Ttiire
velop in an altOgetuer dlt- wiUi the subcortical crypt, lying in th«
f„,„i4- rnonnoi- frnm tliA clioanosoina with its fl.igtll.itcd clianib.!ii
terent manner IrOm ine tj,u , jotted circles in the cortex are stm-
other or UDDer half, the asters conneclBd by fibrous strands
,, '^^ , . After Soltas,"ao!icn3er"iiei)ort(x73>
endoderm not producing '*"'- '^ ' .
any flagellated chambers. In this case the upper portion
alone is characterized by the flagellated chambers, which
are the distinctive mark of a sponge, and hence may be
Fia 11.— Tonnit «ponge of SltlMla pnnsstns, Soil. Longitndinal medUm aw*
tion'sliowing tllc c;..-.MOsoii>o foWed within the oortct o.oscule. AfteJ
Sollas, " ClMlknijcr" Report (X50).
called the spongomere ; tho lower half, which consists oJ
all three fundamental layers, may be called tho hypomere.
The form and general composition of sponges areci
ceedingly various and often difficult to analyse, presenting,
along with some important diflcrences, a remarkable general
resemblance to the delentera in these respects. Liki
them, some sponges are simple, and others, througl
asexual multiplication, compound. The only criterion bj
which the individual sponge can be recognized is tho oscu
lum : and, as it is frequently difficult, and in many cases
impossible, to distinguish this from tho gastric opening ol
a large excurrent canal, there arc many cases in which the
simple or compound nature of the spongo must romoiff
open to doubt. The osculo may also fail {hposlomos,^)
and so may tho paragastric cavity (/»/'05r<''^ro^-') ; "j'
problem then becomes insoluble. Tho los3 of the oscuJ,
416
SPONGES
may in some cases be due to the continued growth of
several endodermal folds towards the exterior, with a
corresponding absorption of the mesoderm and ectoderm
■whioh lie in the way, till the folds penetrate to the ecto-
derm and Open at the exterior, thus giving rise to excurrent
openings which are not readily distinguishable from pores.
At the saaie time the original osculum closes up and
entirely disappears. Lipogastrosis, on the other hand,
may be produced by the growing together of the roots of
the choanosomal folds, thus reducing the paragastric cavity
to a labyrinth of canals, which may easily be confounded
■with the usual form of excurrent canals. While in some
sponges the original oscule is lost, in others secondary
independent openings, deceptively like oscules, are added.
This pseudostomosLS is due to a folding of the entire sponge,
so as to produce secondary canals or cavities, which may
be incurrent (vestibidar) or excurrent (cloacal), the opening
of the latter to the exterior being termed a false oscide
or pseudosiome. The faulty use of the term oscule for
what is neither functionally nor morphologically a mouth
is here obvious, for in one sense the oscule is always a
pseudostome ; it would be better if the term pseudoproct
could be substituted.
Skeleton. — All sponges, except three or four genera be-
longing to the Myxospongiae, possess some kind of skeletal
structures. They may be either calcareous or silicious or
horny scleres, the latter usually having the form of fibres,
which sometimes enclose silicious needles (spicules) or
foreign bodies introduced from without. Foreign bodies
also contribute to the formation of the skeleton of some
silicious sponges, and occasionally form the entire skeleton,
no other hard parts being present.
Mineral Mineral scleres usually occur in the form of spicuies.
•picule.s. "jjjg spicules of calcareous sponges consist of carbonate of
lime, having the crystalline structure and other properties
of calcite (^p). Each spicule, so far as its mineral com-
ponent is concerned, is a single crystal, all the molecules
of calcite of which it is built up being similarly oriented.
On the other hand, its form and general structure are
purely organic. Its surfaces are always curved, and usually
it has the form of a cone or combination of cones, each of
which consists of concentric layers of calcite surrounding
an axial fibre of organic matter, — probably of the same
nature as spongiolin or spongin, the chief constituent of
the fibres of horny sponges. A thin layer of organic matter,
known as the spicide sheath, forms an outer investment to
the spicule and is best rendered visible as a residue by
removing the calcite with weak acid. Silicious spicules
consist of colloid silica or opal, and hence can be distin-
guished from calcareous by having no influence upon polar-
ized light. Structurally the two kinds of spicules present
no important diflfei-ence. The spicules of diflFerent sponges
differ greatly both in form and in size. They may be
conveniently divided into two groups, — minute or flesh
spicules, which usually serve as the support of a single cell
only (microscleres), and larger or skeletal spicules, which
usually contribute to the formation of a more or less con-
sistent skeleton (megascleres). The distinction is not one
that can be exactly defined, and must so far be regarded
as of a provisional nature. Th'ere is usually but little diffi-
culty in applying it in practice, except in some doubtful
cases where large spicules do not form a continuous skeleton,
or in others where flesh spicules appear to be passing into
those of larger size. It is indeed highly probable that all
large spicules have originated from flesh spicules (/^).
(1) Monaxon Biradiate Type {rhahdus). — By far the
commonest form is the oxea, a needle-shaped form pointed
at both ends and produced by growth from a centre at the
same rate in opposite directions along the same axis. It
ia therefore uniaxial and eryuibiradiate (fig. 12 a). (2) Mon-
axon Uniradiafe Type (siylus).~'By the suppression of one
of the rays of an oxea, an acuate spicule or stylus results
(fig. 12 b). (3) Triaxon Triradiate Type. — :Linear growth.
Fig. 12. — Typical megascleres. a, r/iabdus (monaxon diactinc); h, stylus
"(monaxon monactiue); c, triod (triaxon triactine); d, caltlirops (tefi-axon
tetractine) ; e, triaxon hexactine ; /, desma of an anoniocladine Litliistid
(polyaxon); g, sterraster (polyaxon) ; ft, radial section tlirough tlie outer
part of g, shmving two actines soldered together by intervening silica, the
free ends terminating in recurved spines and the ajcis traversed by a central
fibre.
from a centre in three directions inclined at an aflgle of
120° to each other gives rise to the primitive form of tri-
radiate spicule so eminently characteristic of the calcareous
sponges, but by no means confined to them (fig. 12 c). (4)
Tetraxon Qnndriradiate Type (Caltkrops). — Growth from a
centre in four directions inclined at about 110° to each
other produces the primitive quadriradiate form of the
Tetractinellida and of some calcareous sponges (fig. 12 d).
(5) Sexradiate Type-^Gvo-viih in six directions along three
rectangular axes produces the primitive sexradiate spicule
of the Hexadinellida sponges (fig. 12 e). (6) Multiradiate
Type. — Extensions radiating in many directions from a
centre produce a stellate form (fig. 12/). (7) Spherical
Scleres. — Concentric growth of silica about an organic
particle produces the sphere, which occurs as a reduction
of the rhabdus in some species of Pcecillastra, or as an
overgrown globule (flesh spicule) in Caminus.
Usually conical, the spicular rays often become cylindrical ; usu- Uniaxial
ally pointed (oxcatc) at tlie ends, tliey are also frequently rounded typi .
off (slrongylatc), or thictened into knobs {tylotatc), or branched
{cladose). Their giowth is not always rigorously confined to -
Fig. 13.— Modifications of monaxon type. «, strongyle ; 6, tylotc; c, oxea; d,
tylotoxea; e, tylostyle; /.style; g, spined tylostyle ; h, sagittal triovt (a
triaxon form derived from the monaxon) ; j, oxytylote ; fc, anatria;ne ; I, pro-
trisene ; m, orthotrisene ; n, dichotriane ; o, centrotrisne ; p, amplutria:no
(this is trichocladose) ; q. crepidial strongyle (basis of Rliabdocrepid Litliistid
desma); r, young form of Rhabdocrepid dcsnia, showing crepidial strongyle
coated with successive layers of silica ; s, Rhabdocrepid desma fully grown.
The dotted line through the upper figures marks the origin of the actines.
straight line : frequently they are curved or even undulating. They
are also liable to become spined, either by mere superficial thicken-
ing or by a definite outgrowth involving tlie axial fibre (fig. ^3g,h).
The rhabdus if pointed at "both ends is known as an oxea (fig.
13 c) ; if rounded at both ends as a stroncjuh (fig. 13 a); if knobbed
SPONGES
417
Trlradi-
aU type,
Quadri-
radiate
:ype.
at both cuds as a U,!olc (fig. 13 6); the tylote if pointed at one end
is a tylotoxea (fig. 13 d) ; the strongyle similarly becomes ^strongyl-
oxea These last two forms are with diQiculty distinguished from
the stylus, which is usually pointed at the end, and strongylate (fig.
13 n or tylotate (fig. 13 e) about the origin. A particular case ot
the cladose rhahdus, but one of the most frequent occurrence, is
the trixne ; in this form one ray of a rhabdus ends in three branches,
which diverge at equal angles from each other. The rhabdus then
Becomes known as the sbaft or rhabdome, and the secondary rays
are the arms or dculi, colleciively the head or cladomc of the spicule.
The arms make different angles with the shaft : when recurved a
erapnel or anatrixne is produced (fig. 13 k), when projecting forwards
I vrolriwnc (fig. 13 0, and when extended at right angles an orlho-
trixne (fig. 13 m). The arms of a triune may bifurcate {dichoirixne)
once Cfi". 13 n), twice, or oftener, or they may tnfurcate. Again,
they may extend laterally into undulating lamelL-e, or unite to form
a disk the triane character of which is indicated by the included
axial fibre. The shaft may also become trifid at both ends, amphi-
trixne(&g. 13p), and the resulting rays all bifurcate, or the cladome
may arise fi-om the centre of the rhabdome, ccnirotnxne (fig. 13 o)
Amongst one group of Lithistid sponges {Mabdocrcpida) the normal
growth of a strongyle is arrested at an early stage ; it then serves
as a nucleus upon which further silica is deposited, and in such a
manner as to ]iroduce a very irregularly branching sclere or desma
(fie 13 s), within which the fundamental strongyle can be seen en-
closed. In such a desma no axial fibre besides that of the enclosed
strongyle is formed.
The chief modification of the triradiate spicule is due to an elonga-
tion of one ray, distinguished as apical, the shorter paired rays
bein" termed basal, and the whole spicule a sagittal triradiate. Ihe
angle included by the basal rays is usually over 120" (fig. 14 a).
Some or aU of the rays of the primitive calthrops (fig. U b) may
Sexradi-
U type.
fTo. 14.-JI^(lir.cation3 of the triaxon and tetraxon types, o, ^^fj^fA,^™'']''*^
or tried ; b, caltbrops; c, candelabra (a polycladose microcalthrops) , d, a
Bpined mWrocalthrops ; e, Tetracladine Litlustid desma.
subdivide into a number of terminal spines candelabra (Sg- 1*«] ;
or some or all of them may bifurcate once or twice and finally
terminate by subdividing into numerous variously shaped processes ;
such a tetracladine desma (fig. 14 e) characterizes one division of the
Lithistid sponges. . , , ,
Ev the excess or defect of one or more rays a series of forms such
as are represented in fig. 15 arise. In the oxea, which results from
oxea -with the spines all pointing one way ; the clavuUi, a tylotate
form with a toothed margin to the head (fig. 16 b) ; the scopularia
(fif. 16 c), a besom-shaped spicule with tylotate rays, which vary
in°number from two to eight ; the amphidish (fig. 15 d), a shaft
tei-minating at each end in a number of recurved rays. _ When the
sexradiate spicules of the Scxactinellida unite together in a manner
to' be described later, the rays may be bent in a variety of ways
out of the triaxial type, so that the sexradiate character alopc
remains.
Multiradiate Type. — The rays of an aster as of other spicules
may be spined or tylotate. In one remarkable form knon-n as a
sterraster (fig. \2g, h), and characteristic of the family Gcodinid.r.
the rays are almost infinite in number, and coalesced for the greaV;r
part of their length ; the distal ends, however, remain separate,
and, becomin" slightly tylotate, are produced into four or file re-
curved spines" which give attachment to connective tissue fibres
by which adjacent sterrasters are united together.
In one aberrant group of Lithistid sponges {jinomocladina) the
skeleton is formed of desmas, which are multiradiate, each present-
ing a massive centrum (with an included cavity) produced into a
variable number (4 to 8) of rays, wkich rays terminate in expanded
ends (fig. 12/).
It is doubtful whether a distinction between megascleres ana Micro-
microscleres can be maintained in the calcareous sponges, unless sslere*
the minute oxeas which occur in Eilhardia schuhei, Pol. (/6), are
to be referred to this group. They are widely distributed through-
out the sUicious sponges, and by their different forms afford charac
ters of the highest importance in classification. . , ,
One of the simplest forms is the sigrmspire (fig. 17 a, b) ; it look,
like the Ittter C or S, according to the direction in which it is
p,n 11 -Modifications of the triaxon hexactine type, o, dagger ; 6, c, two
^virieUes of pfnnXs; d, amphidisk; «, pentactine; /, staurus; s, dermal
rhabdus. After Schulzc.
the snnnression of all rays but two, the sexradiate character is some-
«meTp?e e ed by the Lial fibre, which gives off bvo or four pro-
ceTses in the middle of the spicule where the defective arms would
arise Let fi" 12 e represent a re-gular sexradiate spicule with its
?our horizont?! arms extended beneath the dermis of its sponge ;
the over-development of the proximal ray and a reduction of ho
distal ray produce a form known as the daoger (fig 15a); the
suppression of the proximal ray and the development ofspincs pro-
iectm" forwards on the distal ray produce the pinnuUs (fig. 15 b, c) ;
t he rppression of both proxima and distal rays gives the J^a«>-',
iZ 15 V), and the suppression of two of the remaining horizontal
rafs a elemal rhabdus (fig. 15 ff). . The suppression of a d>st.al r^y
excessive development of a proximal ray, and recurved growth of
tiie ven.aining rays produce an anchor. In Hyaloncma (g ass rope
sponge) anclmrs ove'r a foot long occur, but their arnisor teeth are
not restricted to four, and the axial fibre gives olT its processes
before reaching the head of the si.icule. Such a fir.ipnel helps to
support tho sponge in the ooze ol' the sea-bed. Other character-
Fig. 10.-
=<D
>KA1^
■n. iincinaria ; ^, clavula ; c, scopularia. After SchuliC.
istic spicules belonging to sponges distinguished by sexradi.ato
spicules are tho followii.sr :— tho uMimna (bg. 16 o), a spmoso
Fio. 17— Ilicrosderes. a, S, sigmaspire viewed in different directions,— a, along
axil, and b, obliquely; c, toxaspire; d, spirastcr; c, sanidaster; /, amphi-
aster ; j, sigma or cymba ; h, cj-mba, with three ptcraat each end,— the central
one a pror^ ptcron and the lateral, pleural ptera ; j, one end of another form
of cj-mba, showing seven ptera ; k, monopteral cymba,— proral ptera only,
developed at ends, tropidial ptera much enlarged ; I, oocymba, in which proral
and pleural ptera have grown towards each other and coalesced ; v<, spher-
astcr • n, oxvaster ; o, the same, with .lix nctines ; p, the same, with foui-
actiaes; q, the same, with two actines (a ceiltrotjdoto microxea); r, micro-
tylote : s, microxea (-], r, and s arc reduced asters) ; (, rosette,
viewed, its actual form being that of a single turn of a cylindrical
spiral. A turn and a part ol a turn of a spiral of somewhat higher
pitch than that of a sigmaspire gives the toxaspire (fig. 17 c); a con-
tinued spiral growth through several revolutions gives the poly-
spire. The sigmaspire becoming spined produces the spirastcr or
spinispirula (llg. 17 d) ; this, by losing its curvature, becomes the
sanidaster (fig. 17 e), and by simultaneous concentration of its spines
into a whorl at each end, the amphiastcr (fig. 17/). By reduction
of the spire the spirastcr passes into the stellate or aster (fig. 17 n).
A thickening about the centre of tho aster produces the sjiheraslcr
(fi". 17 m), allied to which is tho sterraster. By a reduction in the
niunber of its rays the aster becomes a minute calthrops, from which,
by increased growth, the skeletal calthrops may very well be derived ;
by further reduction to two rays a little rhabdus or microrabd re-
sults, and of this numerous varieties exist, of which the cxcato
microrabd is the most interesting, since it only differs in size Irom
the commonest of all skeletal st.lculcs, tho o.«.ato or accr.ite rhab-
dus. Tho sigma-spiro is formed as a superficial spiral thickening
in tho waU of a spicule cell or sclcroblast j as superficial deposits
also tho next group of spicules, tho so-called ancliorales, arise.
Take a hen's egg as tho model of a sclcroblast, draw round it a
broad meridional band, interrupted only on ono side, for 30 above
and below the equator ; this wifi represent a truly C-shaped spicule,
which differs from a sigmaspire by tho "V'^J'^^"./''.! o' • • .l»
It may bo termed a cymba (fig. 173). The back of the C is t e
kcd OT iropis; the points are tho prows or prorm. Now l'^--^; <'" ""^
the prora on the eggshell into oval lobes (proral /"'"'■"V ""''.J™^
eacli polo draw a lobe midway bc'twecn the prora and tl'» J "r-*
1 (jileiJal ptcres), and a coimnou form of anehorate, tho ptcrocymlxi
AAll. — 5-3
418
SPONGES
results (fig. 17 h). The pterocymba is subject to considerable modi-
fications : the prows may be similar (homoproral) or dissimilar
(hderoproral) ; the pteres may be lamellar or ungual ; additional
Uniplla; {tropidial plei-es) may be produced by a lateral outgrowth
of the keel (fig. 17 k) ; and by growing towards the equafor the
opposed proral and pleural pteres may conjoin, producing a spicule
ot' two meridioual bands [oorAjmha ; tig. 17 I). A curious group of
flesh spicules are the Irichites. In this group silica, instead of bein<r
deposited in concentric coatings around an axial fibre, forms within
the scleroblast a sheaf of immeasurably fine fibrillaj or trichites
whi(;h maybe straight_(fig. 17m) or twisted. The trichite sheaf
may be regarded as a fibrjUated spicule. Trichite sheaves form in
.some sponges, as Drarjnmstra (sj), a dense accumulation within
the^ cortex. ^ In Hexactijiellid sponges tlie rays of the aster are
limited to si.'c, arranged as in a primitive sexradiate spicule, but
divided at the ends into an indefinite number of slender filaments
which may ormay not be tylotate, roseiks (fig. 17 1). '
Spongin is a horny substance, most similar to silk in
chemical_ composition, from which it differs in being in-
soluble in an ammoniacal solution of copper sulphate
(cuproso-ammonium sulphate). In Darvnnella aurea, F.
Miiller, it occurs in ' forms . somewhat resembling tri-,
quadri-, and sex-radiate spicules. But usually the spongin
skeleton takes the form of fibres, consisting of a central
core of soft granular substance around which the spongin
is disposed in concentric layers, forming a hollow cylinder
(fig. 23 b). The relative diameters of the soft core and
of the spongin cylinder differ greatly in different sponges.
The fibres branch so as to form antler-like twigs or bushy
tree-like growths, or anastomose to form a continuous net-
work, as in the bath sponge {Euspongia officinalis). The
detailed characters of the network differ with the species,
and are useful in classification. In lanthella certain cells
(sponginblasts) become included between the successive
layers of the spongin cylinder, and their deep violet coloui-,
contrasting with the amber tint of the spongin, renders
them very conspicuous,
cnion of In some sponges the scleres are simply scattered through the
•scleres i^foderm and do not give rise to a continuous ske!eton,-Corfja«m,
into a Chondri lla, Thrombus. In the Calcarca and many silicious sponges
.-.Keleton. they are dispersed through the mesoderm, but so numerously that
by the overlapping of their rays a loosely felted skeleton is pro-
duced. In the calcareous sponges the spicules are frequently regu-
larly disposed ; and in the Sycons in particular a definite arran^e-
Fia. 1&-Articnlatfi ami iiiartic.late tutar skeletons of calcispongea. a, articu-
late ; b, maiticulate skeleton. After HaeckeL
ment, on two plans, the articulate and utarticulate, can be tracea
in the skeleton ol the radial tubes. Ou ttie latter plan the triradi-
ate or nuadriradiate spicules, the apical rays of which are of con-
siderable length, are an-anged in two sets, one having the basal
rays uing in tlie mesoderm of the paragastral wall and the other
witli the corresiiondmg rays in the dermal mesoderm. The apical
thVirfnnft ; T'. -"r " P^''^"^'^™ °f «"= >'«Ual tubes paraUel to
tlicii ciigtl but pointing in opposite directions (fig. 18 b). In the
?!ie"l fof H?"r fTr'l ^P'™^^^' ^™^'' =" c1,mparison with
the_si?e of the radial tubes, form a series of rows round the tubes
lieir basal my, lying p.,allel to the paragas.ric siracrand 4^
npcal pointing towards the ends of the'radial tubes (fi<.. 18 ")
the'L 'fnt l'?^'™^'" "^I'T^ ?"°?" '"•■'^^''^ ^ricules ?adiate from
tic base of the sponge if of a plate-like form, or from the centre if
globular, and extend to the surface. If tritenes are present their
arms usually extend within the mesoderm immediately be.ow the :
dermal snrfice (fig. 19). Single spicules reach from centre to sur-
face only in smal sponges. As tlie sponge increases in sile the
S be""added,"if'a'°™'^°°'^°'^ ^"'^'^'''' °' ^'"'^ '"''''^'^
continuous skeleton is f^
to be fonned. T'he
latter is the plan fol-
lowed in fact : the ad-
ditional spicules over- ^
lap the ends of those °'
first formed like the
fusiform cells in a
woody fibre. With the
formation of a fibre,
often strengthened by
spongin or bound to-
gether with connective
tissue, there appears to
be a tendency for the
constituent spicules to
diminish in size, and
the length of each in ^
the most markedly Fio. 19.— Mode of arraHgeaent of spicules in a
fibrous sponges is in- '""""S Stellettid sponge, Dragmastra normani.
significant when com- &""■ After Sollas.
pared with the length of the fibre. The spicular fibre thus
lormed may be simple or echinated by spicules either similar to
those which form its mass or different. More usually they are
diSerent, and generaUy styles, often spinose about their origin.
Ihe spongin which sometimes cements together the. spicules of a
libre may progressively increase in quantity and the spicules di-
mmish in number, till a horny fibre containing one or more rows
of small oxeas results. In an echinated fibre the axial spicules
may disappear and the echinating spicules persist. Finally all
spicules may be suppressed and the horny fibre of the Ceratose
sponges results. The horny fibres may next acquire the habit of
embedding foreign bodies in their substance, though foreign en-
closures are not confined to the Ceralosa but occur in some Silici-
spongim as well. The included foreign bodies may increase in
quantity out of all proportion to the horny fibres ; and finally the
skeleton may consist of them alone, all spongin matter havin"
disappeared. °
In the Lithistid sponges a skeleton is produced by the articula-
tion ol desmas into a network. The rays of the desmas (figs. 12/,
13 s 14 e) terminate in apophyses, which apply themselves to some
part ot adjacent desmas, cither to the centrum, shaft, arms, or
similarapophyses, and then, growing round them like a saddle on
ahorse s back, clasp them firmly without auchylosis. Thus they
give rise to a rigid network, in conjunction with which fibres com-
posed of rhabdus spicules may exist. In the SexaUiucUkla both
spicular lelts and fibres occur, and in one division {Dictijonina) a rigid
netw'ork is produced, not, however, by a mere clasping of arophy^es,
but by a true fusion. The rays of adjacent spicules overlap and a
common investment of silica grows over them.
nistology.
The ectoderm usually consists of simple pavement Ecto-
epithehal cells (pinnacocytes), the margins of which can derm,
be readily rendered visible by treatment with silver nitrate
best by Harmer's method.i The nucleus and nucleolu^
are usuaUy visible in preparations made from spirit speci-
mens, the nucleus being often readily recognizable by its
characteristic bulging beyond the general surface. In some,
sponges (Thecaphora) the epithelium may be replaced
locally by columnar epithelium, and the cells of both pave-
ment and columnar epithelium may bear fiagella (Aplysilla
tiolacea, Oscarella lolmlaris). The endoderm presents the
same characters as the ectoderm, except in the Ascons and
the flagellated chambers of all other sponges, where it is
formed of collared flagellated cells or cJioanocytes, — cells
with a nearly spherical body in which a nucleus and nucleo-
lus can be distinguished and one or more contractile vacu-
oles. The endoderm extends distally in a cylindrical neck
or cdlum, which terminates in a long flagellum. surrounded
by a delicate protoplasmic frill or collar (fig. 21 <7). In
Tetractintllida, and probably in many other sponges cer-
tainly in some — the collars of contiguous choanocytes
coalesce at their margins so as to produce a fenestrated
membrane, which forms a second inner lining to the flagel-
S. F. Harmer, " Oa a Method for the Silver Staining of JIarin«
Objects, MMli. Zoolog. Station zu, Neaigd, 1884, p. 445.
SPONGES
419
lated chamber (fig. 20, ii.). The presence of this membrane
enables U3 readily to distinguish the excurrent from the
0-V " —
i ^.
V:^^ '-^^ V^ %i^
Fio. 20- — Choanocyt«s with coalesced coUars. (i.) Lcagitudinal section throagh
two llagellated chambers of .intJiastra. commur.ls, Soil.; i, prosopylcs ; c,
aptodal canals leading from tlie llagellated chambers ; c, excarrcr.t canal ;
the tissue surroimdiDg the chambers ijsarcenchyiDc(x3dO). (ii.) Diagram
Bkowing. the fenestrated n:embr3B« (m) produced by, coalesced collars of
choanocytes. After Sollas, *' Challenger" SeporL
incurrent face of the chamber, since its convex surface is
always turned towards the prosopyle, In sponges with an
fto. 21.— Histological elements, o, colleneytfl."!, ftom Thenm miricaio; b,
chondrcnchync, from cortex of CoHicium. candelabrum (the unshaded bodies
Mf n.it.T^leres): *•, cytt-^nchjmc, from PachTfmaliaina johiutoni (mrtiy diA-
gran-.iimtlc) ; <(, d«5macyto, from Drtujmaslra normani ; «, myocytcn in con-
nciiun with coUcncytes, from Cinachyra lariiiKa ; /, thcsocyte, from Thenea
mxirteala; g, choanocyto, from Syrandra mpftan/ua; A-n, acleroblasts — A, of
ayoong oTcea, from an enJvyoof Craniella craniu7n ; t, of a fully proxni oxca,
from an adult 0. cranium ; j, orthotriajno, with ansociatcd sclcroblnat from
SUUdtj ; Aj, of a tetracladino desma, from Theonelta t!winJujf.i ; i, of a si^mo-
»pirr, liom Craniella croaium; m, of an oithodragma, from Di.iyrinja iKs-
nmlf u ; <t, of a stemistcr, from Ceodia bamlti. Figs, b and g «ft«r Bcbolic,
the others after tiollas.
aphodal canal system the flagellated chamber! usually pass
gradually into the aphodal canal, but the incurrent canal
enters abruptly. ThiT abiupt termination of the incurrent
canal appears to mark the termination of the ectoderm
and the commencement of the cndoderm. The flagellated
chambers differ greatly in size in different sponges, and
evidently manifest a tendency to become smaller as the
canal system increases in complesity ; thus Sycon are always
larger than Rhagon chambars, and eurypylbus than aphodal
Ehagon chambers. In most sponges e."ccept the Ascons the
mesoderm is largely developed, and in many it undergoes
a highly complex histological differentiation. In its com-
monest and simplest form it consists of a clear, colourless,
gelatinous matrix in which irregularly branching stdlate
cells or connective tissue corpuscles are embedded ; these
may be termed coUencytes (fig. 21a) and the tissue collen-
chyme. In the higher sponges (Geodia, StelUtta) it consists
of small polygonal granular cells either closely contiguous
or separated by a very small quantity of structureless jelly,
and in this form may be termed sarcendtyme (fig. 20).
CoUenchyme does not originate through the transformation
of sarcenchyme, as one might expect, for it precedes the
latter in development. Schulze (so), who has compared
collenchyme to the gelatinous tissue which forms the chief
part of the umbrella of "jolly-fish," describes it as becoming
granular immediately in the neighbourhood of the flagel-
lated chambers in the bath sponge, the granules becoming
more numerous in sponges in which the canal system
acquires a higher differentiation, tiU at length the coUen-
cytes are concealed by them. According to this view,
sarcenchyme would appear to originate from a densely
granular collenchyme. Amoeboid wandering cells or archx-
• ocytes (fig. 22) are scattered through the matrix of the
collenchyme. Thej' evidently serve very different purposes :
some appear to act as carriers of nourishment or as
scavengers of useless or irritant foreign matter ; others
may possibly contribute to the formation of higher tissues,
some certainly becoming converted into sexual products.
Their parentage and early history are unknown.
A tissue [cyilendiymc) which in some respects resembles certain
forms of vegetable parenchyme occurs in some sponges, particularly
Geodinidss and otner Tctradinellida. It consists of closely ad-
jacent large oval cells, with thin well-defined walls and fluid
contents. Somewhere about the middle of the cell is the nucleus
with its nucleolus, supported by protoplasm, which extends from
it in fine threads to the inner side of the wall, where it spreads out
in a thin investing iilm (fig. 2X c). Cystenchyme very commonly
forms a layer just below the skin of some Geodinidie, particularly of
Padiymaiisma, and, as on teasing the cortex of this sponge a largo
number of refringcnt fluid globules immiscible with water arc set
free, it is just possible that it is sometimes a fatty tissue, and if so
the contained oil must be soluble in alcohol, for alcoholic prepara-
tions show no trace of it. A tissue resembling cartilage, chondrcn-
chyme, occurs in Corticidse (fig. 21 i).
Connective-tissue cells or desmacytes are present jn most
sponges ; they are usually long fusiform bodies, consulting
of a clear, colourless, often minutely fibrillated sheath,
surrounding a highly refringent axial fibre, which stains
deeply with reagents (fig. 21 d). In other cases the des-
macyte is simply a fusiform granular cell, with a nucleus
in the interior and a fibrillated appearance towards the
ends. The desmacytes are gathered together, their end::
overlapping, into fibrous strands or felted sheets, which in
the ectosome of some sponges may acquire a considerable
thickness, often constituting the greater part of the cortex.
The spicules of the sponge often furnish them with a sur-
face of attachment, especially in the Gcodinidoe, where each
stcrraster of the corte.x is united to its neighbours by des-
macytes, in the manner shown in fig. 10. .
Contractile fibre cells or myocytes occur in all the lu'ghcr
sponges. They appear to be of more than one kind. Most
usually they are fine granular fusiform ceils with long
filiform terminations, and with an cnciused nucleus and
nucleolus (fig. 21 e). In the majority of sponges both ex-
current and incurrent canals are constricted at intervals,
420
SPONGES
by transverse diaphragms or vela, •which contain myocytes
concentrically and sometimes radiately arranged. The
excessive development of myocytes in such a velum gives
rise to muscular sphincters such as those which close the
chones of many corticate sponges, such as Pachymatisma.
In this sponge, which occurs on the British shores, the
function of the oscular sphincters can be readily demon-
Btrated, since irritation of the margin of the oscule is
invariably followed after a short interval by a slow closure
of the sphincter.
Supposed sense-cells or sesthacyies (fig. 22) were first
observed by Stewart and have since been described' by
Von Lendenfeld (fs). According to the latter, they are
spindle-shaped cells, 0-01 mm. long by 0-002 thick ; the
distal end projects beyond the ectodermal epithelium in a
fine hair or palpocil ; the body is graniilar and contains a
large oval nucleus ; and the inner end is produced into
fine threads, which extend into the collenchyme and are
supposed — though this is not proved — to become con-
tinuous with large multiradiate coUencytes, which Von
Lendenfeld regards as multipolar ganglion cells (fig. 22).
Pig. 22. — Transverse section tlirougli the edge of a pore in Dendrilla cavernosa,
lifd. ; cells in the middle to the right, archseocytes ; fusiform cells on
each side of them, myocytes ; g, ahove and below these, with processes
terminating against the epithelium, gland cells ; fusiform cells terminating
against the epithelium at s, iesthac>"te3 ; at their inner ends these are con*
tinuous with ganglion cells. After Von Lendenfeld ( x SOO).
More recently he has described an arrangement of these
cells curiously suggestive of a sense-organ. Numerous
sesthacytes are collected over a small area, and at their
inner ends pass into a granular mass of cells with well-
roarked nuclei, but with boundaries not so evident ; these
lie regards as ganglion cells. From the sides of the gan-
glion other slender fusiform cells, which Von Lendenfeld
regards as nerves, pass into the mesoderm, running tan-
gentially beneath the skin. The inner end of the ganglion
is in communication with a membrane formed of fusiform
cells which Von Lendenfeld regards as muscular. If his
observations and inferences are .confirmed, it is obvious
that we have here a complete apparatus for the conversion
of external impressions into muscular movements.
In most sponges a direct connexion can be traced by
means of their branching processes between the coUen-
cytes of the mesoderm and the cells of the ectodermal
and endodermal epithelium and the choanocytes of the
flagellated chambers. As the coUencytes are also united
amongst themselves, they place the various histological
constituents of the sponge in true protoplasmic continuity.
Hence we may with considerable probability regard the
coUencytes as furnishing a means for the transmission of
impulses : in other words, we may attribute to them a
rudimentary nervous function. In this case the modifica-
tion of some of the coUencytes in communication with the
ectoderm might readily follow and special iesthacytes arise.
Fusiform coUencytes perpendicular to the ectoderm, and
'with one end touching it, are common in a variety of
sponges ; but it is difficult to trace the inner end into
comiexion with the steUate coUencytes, so that precisely in.
those cases in which it would be most interesting to find
such a connexion absolute proof of it is wanting.
The colour of sponges usually depends on the presence
of cells containing granules of pigment ; though dispersed
,generaUy through the mesoderm, these ceUs are most richly
developed in the ectosome. Pigment granules also occur
in the choanocytes of some sponges, — Oscarella lohularU
and Aplydna aeropkoha, for instance. In the latter the
pigment undergoes a remarkable change of colour when
the sponge is exposed to the air, and finaUy fades away.
In many cases sponges borrow their colours from parasitic
alg£e {Oscillatoria and Nostoc) with which they are infested
The colours of sponge-pigriients are very various. .They
have been examined by Krukenberg and Merejknovsky.
Zoonerythin, a red pigment of the lipochrome series, is one
of the most widely difiused ; it is regarded as having a
respiratory function. Reserve cells or thesocytes (fig. 21/)
have been described in several sponges as weU as amylin
and oU-bearing ceUs.
Each spicule of a sponge originates m a single ceUscicrw
(fig. 21 A-w), within which it probably remains enclosed '^''"*'*
until it has completed its full growth ; the ceU then prob-
ably atrophies. During its growth the spicule slowly
passes from the interior to the exterior of the sponge, and
is finally (in at least some sponges, Geodia, Stelletta) cast
out as an effete product. The sponge is thus constantly
prpducing and disengaging spicules ; and in this way we
may account for the extraordinary profusion of these struc-
tures in some modern marine deposits and in the ancient
stratified rocks. Within the latter these deciduous spiciiles
have furnished silica for the formation of flints, which have
been produced by a silicioiis replacement of carbonate of
lime {sO).
The homy fibres of the Ceratosa are produced as a
secretion of ceUs known as spongiriblasts, which surroimd
as a continuous mantle the sides of each growing fibre, and
cover in a thick cap each growing point (fig. 23). The-
Fio. 23.— Section through the homy fibre and associated tissues of a horuj
sponge (,Dsndrilla\ A, longitudinal section ; s, layers of spongin, surrounded
at the sides by the lateral mantle of sponginblasts, and at the ends b> the
terminal cap. A desmachymatous sheath, a, surrounds the whole (xl50).
B, transv..'rse section ; in the centre is the soft core, surrounded by iravy
spongin layers, the outermost being surrounded by sponginblasts, and thesa
by a fibrous sheath ; i, part of an incurrent canal lined by flagellated epi-
thelium ; e, part of an excurrent canal ; /, part of a flagellated chamber ( x 160>
■ After Von Lendenfeld.
lateral sponginblasts are elongated radiaUy to the fibre;
the terminal cells are polygonal and depressed. The latter
give rise to the soft granular core and the former to the
spongin-walls of the fibre. CeUs simUar to the lateral
sponginblasts, and regarded as homologous with them,
occur in a single layer just below the outer epitheUum of
some horny sponges (Aplysilla and Dendrilla), and imder
certain circumstances secrete a large quantity of slimy
mucus {ii).
SPONGES
421
Classification.
The phylum Parazoa or Sjiongix consists of two main
branches, as follows ; —
Branch J MEOAMASTIO- Branch B. — MIC'liOMASTIC-
TOR A.
Class I. — MysospoNOLE,
Haeckel.
■ MEC/AMASTIO-
TOR A.
Class C.IXCAREA, Grant.
Order 1, — ffomocoda, Pol.
Order ?. —HeUrocoda, PoL
lion in
(ETOUpS.
Order 1. — Ealisaniiia.
Order 2. — Cho:.drosina.
Class II.— Sjlicispongix.
Sub-class i.— Hexactinellida,
O. Schmidt.
Order 1. — Lyssacina, Zittel.
Order 2. — Diclyonina, ZitteL
Sub -class ii.— Demospongi-e,
Sollas.
Tribe a. — Monazomda.
Order 1. — Monaxona.
Order 2. — Ceratosa, Grant.
Tribe i. — Tetractinellida,
Marshall.
Order 1. — Choristida, Sollas.
Order 2. — Lilhistida, O.S.
By the possession of both sexual elements and a complex histo-
logical structure, and in tlie character of their embryological devel-
opment, the sponges are clearly separated from the Protozoa ; on
the other hand, the choano0agellato character of the endoderm,
which it retains in the flagellated chambers throughout the group
without a single exception, as clearly marks, them off from the
ifetazoa. Thjcy may therefore bo regarded as a separate phylum
derived from the choanoflagellate Inftisoria, but pursuing for a
certain distance a course of development parallel with that of the
Mctazoa,
Different views have been propounded by other authors. Savilo
Kent regards the sponges as Prolczoa (/o) ; Balfour suggested, that
they branched off from the Mctazoan phylum at a point below the
Coslenlcra, and considered them as intermediate between Protozoa
and Metazoa ; Schulzo regards them as derived from a simple
ancestral form of Ccelcntera {sj) ; Marshall advocates the view that
they are degraded forms derived from Cojlenterates which were
already in possession of tentacles and mesenteric pouches (/^).
iabdivi- As a phylum the Spongix are certainly divisible into two branches,
one including the Calcarea and the other the remaining sponges,
which Vosmaer has termed Non-Calcarea, and others PUthospongix.
Since, however, the choanocytes of the Calcarea are usually, if not
universally, larger than those of other sponges, we may make use
of this difference in our nomenclature, and distinguish one branch
as the Mcgamastidora {iiacrrUrup, "scourger") and the other as
the ilicromastictora.
Branch k.—MEaAMASTICTORA.
Sponges in which the choanocytes are of comparatively largo
8126, O'pOS to 0'009 mm. in diameter (Haeckel, 6),
Class Calcarea.
Caie^iasfc Megamasiictora in which the skeleton is composed of calcareous
spicules.
Order 1. HoMootELA. — Calcarea in which the endoderm consists
wholly of choanocytes. Examples : Leucosolcnia, Bwk. ; Romo-
derma, Lfd.
Order 2. Heteroocela. — Calcarea in which the endoderm is dif-
ferentiated into pinnacocytcs, which -line the paragastric cavity
and excurrcnt canals, and choanocytes, which are restricted to special
recesses (radial tubes or flagellated chambers). Examples : Sycon,
O.S.; Grantia, Fl. ; Lcuconia, Bwk.
Branch B.—MICROMASTICTORA.
(Non-Calcarea, Vosmaer; Plethospongim, Sollas.) Sponges in
which the choanocytes are comparatively small, 0'003 mm. in
diameter.
Class I. MTXOSPONOLffi.
Micromasliclora in which a skeleton or sclcrcs are absent.
Order 1. Halisaroin'A. — Myxospongim in which the canal system
is simple, with simple or branched Sycon or curypylous Rhagon
chambers. An cctosome somctiipes and a cortex always absent.
Exa'nplcs : Balisarca, Duj. ; Oscarclla, Vosm. ; Bajalus, Lfd.
Older 2. Chondrosina. — Myxospongiie in which the canal
syetpnn is complicated, with diplodal Khagon chambers and a
well-developed cortex. Example : Chondrosia, O.S.
The Balisarcina are evidently survivals from an ancient and
prisiitivB typo. The simplicity of the canal system is opposed to
the view that they are degraded forms ; wo may therefore rueard
the absence of sclercs as a persistent primary and not a secjndary
acq'iired chainotor. They aro as interesting, therefore, from one
point of vifjw (absence of ecleres) as the Ascons are from another
(undifferentiated endoderm). With the Chondrosina the case is
different ; they differ only from Chondrilla and its allies by the
absence of asters ; these differ only from the Tethyid^ by the
absence of strongyloxeas ; and we may very reasonably assume that
in these three groups we have a series due to loss of characters, the
Chondrillse being reduced Tcliiyidss and the Chondrosina reduced
Chondrillx. Still, as Huxley has well remarked, "classification
should express not assumptions but facts " ; and therefore till wo
are in possession of more direct evidence it will be well to exclude
the C/wTidroHaa from the Silicispongix.
Class II: SHJCISPONGLS.
Micromastidora possessing a skeleton or scleres which are not
calcareous.
Sub-class L HEXACTINELLrDA.
SiKcispongim characterized by sexradiate silicious spicules.
Canal system usually simple, with Sycoa chambers. Sponge
differentiated into ecto-, choano-, and endo-some.
Order 1. Lyssacina. — ITexactinellida in which the skeleton is
formed of separate spicules, or, if united, then by a subsequent not a
coutsmporaneous deposit of silica. Examples : Eupleclclla, Owen ;
Asconeina, S. Kent ; Syaloncma, Gray ; Rossclla, Crtr.
Order 2. DicTYONiK.\. — Hexaclinellida in which sexradiate
spicules are cemented together by a silicious deposit into a con-
tinuous network pari passu with their formation. Examples;
Farrea, Bwk. ; Earcte, Marshall ; Aphrocallistcs, Gray ; ilyliunct,
Gray ; Dactylocalyx, Stutchbury.
The Hexactinellida are a very sharply defined group, impressed
with marked archaic features. No other Silicispongix possess, so
far as is known, so simple a syconate canal system. The oldest
known fossil sponge is a member of the Lyssacina (7 and 24), viz.,
Protospongia, Salter, from the Menevian beds. Lower Cambrian,
St David's Head, Wales. The gi-oup is almost world-wide in distri-
bution, chiefly affecting deep water, from 100 to 300 fathoms, but
often extending into abyssal depths ; occasionally, however, though
rarely, it frequents shallow later {Cystispongia superstes dredged off
Yucatan in 18 fathoms).
Sub-class ii. DEMOSPONGLffi.
Silidspongiss in which sexradiate spicules are absent
Tribe a. ilOXAXONIDA.
Demospongix in which the skeleton consists either of silicious
spicules which arc not quadriradiate, or of horny scleres or in-
cluded foreign bodies, or of one or more of these constituents iu
conjunction.
Order 1. Monaxona. — The skeleton is cTiaracterized by either
uniaxial or polyaxial spicules. Examples : Amorphina, 0. S.
("crumbi of bread" sponge); Spongilla, Lmk. ("freshwater"
sponge) ; Chalina, Bwk. ; Tclhya, Lmk.
Order 2. Ceratosa. — The skeleton consists of horny scleres
which never include "proper" spicules, or of introduced foreign
bodies, or of both these in conjunction. Examples: Sarwinella,
F. Miiller ; Euspongia, Bronn (the "bath " sponge).
Tribe b. TETRACTINELLIDA.
Demospongise possessing quadriradiate or tria:ne spicules or
Lithistid scleres (desmas).
Order 1. Choristida. — TelradinelUda with quadriradiate or
tri.Tcne spicules, which are never articulated together into a rigid
network. Examples: Tetilla, O.S. ; Thenea, Gray ; ffcodia, Lmk. ;
Vcrcilus, Gray.
Order 2. Lithistida. — Tetractinellida with branching scleres
(desmas), which may or may not u. modified tetrad spicules, arti-
culated together to form a rigid skeleton. Triajno spicules may or
may not be present in addition. Examples ; Theonclla, Gray ; Coral-
lisles, O.S. ; Azorica, Crtv.; Felulina, O.S.
This large sub-class embraces the great majority of existing sponges.
Its external boundaries aro fairly well defined, its internal divisions
much less so, as its various orders and families pass into each other
at many points of contact. Although there does not appear to bo
much resemblance between a Lithistid sponge, such as Theonclla,
a Mouaxonid such as Amorphina, and an ordinary " batli " s^iongo
{Euspongia), yet between these extremes a long series of inter-
mediate forms exists, so nicely graduated as to render their dis-
ruption into ffroups by no means an easy task. If the delimitation
of orders is difficult, that of genera is often impossible, so that
they are reduced to assemblages depending on the tact or taste of
the author. Thus Polejacff states that with a single exception
" none of the genera of Ceratosa aro separable by absolute charac-
ters." The chief spicules of Monaxona arc uniaxial, often accom-
panied by characteristic microsclercs. Although disliiiKuishcd as a
group by the absence of quadriradiate or triiviio spicules, two ox-
coptions aro known in which these occur {Tricenlrion, Elilors, and
■Aeamus, Gray) ; these, however, present unusual characters which
suggest an independent origin. TIio canal system of ilonarona ha*
not yet been fully investigated ; it oppcai-s usually to follow tk«
DenuM
spon^
422
B J:^ O i\ G E S
etnypylous Bhagon type, but the aphodal'is not unknown. The
Ceratosa contain all sponges with a horny skeleton, except those
in which the homy fibres are cored or spiiied with silicious spicules
secreted by the sponge ("proper" spicules) ; these are arbitrarily
assigned to the Monaxona. There is convenience in this proceed-
ing, for horny matter is mdely disseminated throughout the Demo-
spontpm, OGcnrring even in the Lilhistida, and it frequently serves
to cement the oieate spicules of the Monaxona into a fibre, without
at the same time forming a preponderant part of the skeleton. It-
would be wellnigh impossible to say where the line should be drawn
between a fibre composed of spicules cemented by spongiu and one
consisting of spongiu with embedded spicules, while there is com-
paratively no difficulty in distinguishing between fibres containing
spicules and fibres devoid of them. That the distinction, however,
is_ entirely arlidcial is shown by the fact that, after spicules have
disappeared from the horny fibre, they may still persist in the
mesoderm ; thus Von Lendenfcld announces the discovery of micro-
scieres (cymba) in an AplysilUd sponge and of strongyles in a
Caco^pongia, both homy sponges. (A form intermediate between
this AplysilUd and the Dcsmacidtmidas would appear to be Tcaco-
chalina, Ridley.) The Ceratosa frequently enclose sand, Fora-
minifcra, deciduous spicules of other sponges and of compound
Ascidians, and other foreign bodies within the homy fibres of their
skeleton ; they also sometimes attach this material, probably by a
secretion of spongin, tc their outer surface, and thus invest them-
selves in a thick protective crast. In some Ceratosa no other
skeleton than that provided by foreign enclosures is present. The
canal system is syconate or eurypyious in the simpler forms and
diplodal in the higher. The Moriaxonida make their earliest ap-
pearance in the Silurian rocks (Climacosfcmgia, ffinde), and are
now found in all seas at all depths. The only sponges inhabiting
fresh water belong to this group. The TctractiTtellJda adhere to
the Mttoaxonida at more than one point, and one of these groups
has probably been a fraitful parent to the other, but which is
offsprmg and which parent is still a subject for discussion. The
GhorisUda in its simplest forms presents a eurypyious Hhagon
system, m the higher au aphodal system. It is in this group that
the most highly complex cortex is met with ; in the Gcodinidx,
tm instance, it consists usuaUy of at least five distinct layers
Ihus proceeding outwards, next to the choanosome is a layer of
thicldy felted desmachyme, passing into collenchjnne on its inner
tace ; then follows a tluck stratum of sterrasters united together
by desmacytes ; this is succeeded by a layer of oystenchyme or
other tissue of variable thickness ; external to this is a single layer
of small granular cells and associated dermal asters; and finally
the surface is invested by a layer of pavement epithelium. The
Lithistida, like the Ceratosa, are possibly of polytihylitio origin •
in one group [Tet-r.cladina) the articulated scleres are evidently
modified calthrops spicules (see fig. 14 c), and associated withihem
are free triaenes, which support the dermis knd resemble precisely
the tri.-enes of the Chorislida. La another group (Mabdocrepida)
the scleres are moulded on a Monasonid base (see fig. 13 q-s) ; but,
associated with. them, triffines sometimes occur similar to those of
the Tctracladina. Both these groups are in all probabQity derived
from th&Choristida, and a distinct passage can be traced from the
letracladose to the Rhabdocrepid group. In the Ehabdocrqnda
we find forms without trhenes ; these may possibly be desrenerate
forms. The third group of Lithistids is derived from the "Rhabdo-
crepida,tb.e Anomocladine desma being derivable from the Rhabdo-
crepid by a shortening of the main axis into a eenti-um. Tlie
thick c«ntrum, from which the arms, variable in number, ori-
ginate, IS hollowed out by a cavity, which appears during life to
have been occupied by a large nucleus, like that of a sclerobUst
and It IS quite conceivable that the soleroblast, which in the
letracladine Lithistids Kes in an angle between the arms, may
have become enclosed in an overgrowth of sUica, from which addi-
tional arms were produced. The constancy with which spicules
in other sponges maintain their independence is very striking
Wlien once a persistent character like this is disturbed, excessive
variability may be predicted, as-in the Anomocladine scleres.
Ihe classification of the sponges' into families is shown in the
loUowing scheme.
Class CALCAREA.
Order 1. EOMOCCELA, Pol.
Family 1. Asconid^, mi.— Somocccla which are simple or com-
posite but never develop radial- tubes. Examples : Ascaia, Hk.
(ng. 1) ; Leucosolcnia, Bwk.
Family 2^HoMODBiiMiDiE, Ud^.—Somoada with radial tubes.
Example : Mamoderma, Ltd. (figs. 3, i). ^^
Order 2. HETEEOCCELA, Pol.
Tribe a. +Sycon-akia.'
The flagellated chambers are either radial tubes or cylindrical
FarnQyl. S YCONiDiE. — The radial tubes open directly into the
paragastac cavity. j "
)J^» T^^^ ^7r'^-~V'^ ^^"^ *^^^^ ^re free for their whole
lengtn, or at least distally Examples : Syceita, Hk.; Sycon. O.S.
Sub-family J. meina, Lfd.-The radial tubes aie simp e and
entirely united. The ectosome is differentiated from the cho^osorae
andsometimes develops into a cortex. Examples: Granti^a, Ud. ;
Sub-family c. Grantina,' Lfd.-The radial tubes are branched.
Ihe incurrent canal system is consequently complicated. An ecto-
:n^S«!;, p!r ^'^= = ^^""'^' ^^ ■' ^^'-^^^-. f 01- (%•
fl JX'^/- ,S^''^'^«i^^. LM— The choanosome is folded. The
^o™;if^^.if''.i,^^'"'='' ^^^P-^ay Aagose in Vosmaeria}
SXf pT- *Tf^ P""^^?'"" ^^'^ity by excurrent canals.
Examples : Polejna, Lfd. (fig. 6) ; Vosmeuria, Lfd
Eamily 3. Teichonellid^, Carter. -Composite Syllcibidx vnth
Tribe 5. tLEFCONAp.iA.
The canal system belongs to the eurypyious Rhagon type.
Family! LEucoNiBiE, Hk.-The outer surface is not differentiated
into osciilifoous and poriferous areas. Examples : Zeuceiia, Hk. :
LcucaUis, Hk. ; Zeucortis, Hk. ' '
o„fr^^^' ?-ff"^5'?^' .Pol— Composite Leuconaria, with the
outer surface diflerenriated mto special oscuHferous and poriferous
areas. Example : Eilhardia, Pol.
The amngement adopted above is founded on Von Lendenfeld's
revision (ii) of the classification propounded by Poleiaeff (i6) who
m a masteriy survey has thrown an unexpected light on the strac-
ture and mter-relationships of a group which Haeckel has rendered
lamous. It should not be overiooked that Vosmaer ( ?7) had pre-
viously explained the structure of the Leucones. However errone-
ous m detail, Haeckel's views are confirmed in their broad outlines,
and It was with true insight that he pronounced the Calcarea to
oner one of the most luminous expositions of the evolutional theory,
in this single group the devclopmejit in general of the canal system
ot the sponges is revealed from its starting-point in the simple
Ascou to ite almost completed stage in the Leucon, with a complete-
ness tha;t leaves little further to be hoped for, unless it be the re- \
qmsite physiological explanation.
Class MTXOSPONGI^.
Order 1. HALISABCINA.
Family 1 H/KSAEoiDiB, Lfd.-The flagellated chambers are
Biconate. Exaniples: Halisarca, Dnj. (with branched chambere);
Jiajalus, Lfd. (with simple chambers)
FaJnily 2. Osoamllids, Lfd.-The flagellated chambere are
eurypyious and rhagose. Example: Oscarclia,, Yosm.
Order 1. CBONDEOSINA.
Family " CtONDEOsiiDjs.— With the characters of the order,
Jixample: Chondrosia, O.S.
Class SILICISPONGI.^.
Sub-olass I. HEXACTUTELLIDA.
Order 1. +LTSSACINA.
Family 1 Etrpl,ECTELLiD.E.— The spicules of the dermal mem-
tone are daggers " (fig. 15a). . Examples: Euplcctdla, Owen;
JKo?ascits, E. Sch.; JTaJroA'rfi/lim, W.T.
i^^^l \ -^sccCTEMATiD^- The dermal spicules are "pinnuli -
^g. 15 ft, c). Examples: Asamema, S. Kent; Sympagella, O.S.;
CaiUopTimts, Schuke. > j .r a > >
Family- 3. HYALONEJATiDa— The dermal spicules are pinnuU
and amphidisks (fig. 15 d). Example : Hyalonema, Gray,
/c -frl*' TRosselids.— The dermal spicules are gomphi, stauri
(hg. 15/), and oxeas. Examples: liossella, Crtr.; CraUrorruyrpha,
Gray ; Aulochovr, E. Sch, "^
Faniily 5. *KEOEPTACin,iDi;, Hinde.— The distal ray of the
dermal spicules is expanded horizontally into a polygonal plate.
Example : *JleccptaouliUs, Defr.
Order 2. tDlCTYONINA.
Sub-order 1, UNCINITARIA.
Uncinate spicules are present.
Tribe a. Clavxtlaeia.
Clavulae (fig. 16 c) are present.
Family 1. FAKREiDiE.— Characters those of the tribe. Example ;
Farrca, Bwk. '^
Tribe 6. Scopulakia.
The dermal spicules are scopularia; (fig. 16 }).
FamOyl. tEuBETlD^— Branched anastomosing tubes, or goblet-
shaped, with lateral outlets. Examples : Eurete, Marshall - Pm-
phragella, Marshall ; Lcfroyella, Schuke.
Family 2. tMELLiTTONiPiE. — Tubular or goblet-.shaped, with
honeycomb-like walls. Example : Aphrocallistcs, Gray.
• I "^J * indicates that the group is only known in the fosaU state, a t that it
la both recent and fossil.
SPONGES
423
fimilyS. +CHOJrELAS>rATrDa Flat or bcaker-shapcd; straight
funnel-shaped canals pcrfoiatiue tlio wall perpendiculaily and
opening laterally on each side. Example: C/ioJiclcsma, Schulze.
Family 4. tVoLVULlxiD-E. — Tubular, goblet-shaped, or massive ;
erooked canals more or less irregular in their course, £:Lamplc3 :
folvHlirta, Schulre : Fieldingia, S. Kent.
Family 6. Sct-ekothamnidx. — ^Arborescent Dody; perforated at
the ends and sides by round narrow radiating canajia. Example :
ScltTOthammts, Marshall.
Sub-order 2. IXERMIA.
Diclyonina witlu>nt uncinati, clavula;, or scopularias.
Family 1. tJlTi.icsiD.E. — Depressed cup-shaped; a complex
folding of the ^vaU produces lateral eicurrcnt tubes. Example :
Myliwtia, Gray.
Family 2. tDAcrrTLO0Al,Ton>.B. — Goblet- shaped or- pateriform,
with a thick Tvall consisting of numerous parallel anastomosing
tubes, of uniform breadth,, "..bich tfirrainate at the same level
within andivithont. Examples: Dacttjlocahjx,(ixa.y ; Scleroplcgma,
O.S. ; MargariUlla, O.S.
Fan:ily 3. tEuRYPLEOMATlDa!. — Goblet-shaped or resembling
ear-shaped saucers ; the wall deeply folded longitudinally so as to
produce a number of dichotomously branched canals or covered-in
grooves." Example: Euriip}egma,Sc\xii\7,!:.
Family 4. tAuLOCYSTiD.E. — Of massive rounded form, with an
ixial cavity ; wall consisting of a system of obscurely radiating
inastomosiug tubes and intervening inter-eanals ; both inter-eanals
and the external terminations of the tubes are covered by a thin
membrane, which is perforated by slit -like openings over the
Inmina of the tubes, and thus assumes a sieve -like character.
Examples; Aulocystis, Schnlze ; C)jsiv:pongia, Hoemer.
This arrangement of the Hexnctintllida is taken from the latest
b^tV on the snbieot, Schulze's Prcliminari/ Heport on tlie "Challen-
ger" fffrMciiiitUida. Tiis reference of fossil forms to the families
here instituted is rendered difficult by the disappearance of the
requisite "guiding" spicules in the process of mineralization. A
revision of the fossil families to bring them into harmony mth the
recent has certainly been rindered necessary, but this is too large
« task to ondertake in this place.
Sub-class n. DEJIOSPONGIJ;,
Tribe o. Monaxonida.
Order 1. MONiXONA.
Family 1. Tethyhxe.— Skebton consisting of radiately arranged
«trong)'ioxcas (except in the gonus Ohondrilla, which is without
megascleres) and larg: f phsrasters. Tlio ectosome is a thick fibrous
eorr^T. Example: Tcihya, Lmt.; Chondrilla, O.S.
Family 2. PoiTirAETiDJi — Skeleton consistingof styles radiatejy
arranged and cortical t^Iostyles. The oscules in many cases open
at the ends of lonj; pijiillae. Examples: Po/j/masiio, Bwk.; Thcca-
chora, O.S. ; TrhhoMcmma, Sars.
Family 3. SncESiTlD^B. — Skeleton consisting of strongyla'to or
tylotate styles, arranged to form a felt. The flesh spicules when
present arc usually rnicrorabds or spirasters. Examples : Suicriles,
Nardo ; Cliona, Grant ; Polerion, Schlegel.
Family 4. Df,smactdoniD;B. — The flesh spicules are cymbas.
Examples: Ei]-ir.TdUt,Vo%Tn.; Desmaddon,^vi.,; Cladorliiza, SarS.
Family 5. fH.u,iOHONDRiDJi — ^Tho flesh spicules when present
are never cymbas. Examples : Ealichondria, Fl. ; Henitra, O.S. ;
ChaH-na, Bwk.; *Thareh'ospongia, Soil.
Family 6. EorroNiDa;. — The skeleton consists of fibres cchinated
by projecting spicules. Examples: Flooamia, O.S. ; JSdyon, Gmy ;
CMkria, O.S.
Family 7. I'Sponoillida — IlaHchondridaf-which are reproduced
both sexually and by statoblasts. Habitat freshwater. Examples:
Sp':rjilla, Lmk.; Ephydalia, Lmk. ; Parmulu, Crtr.; Potamolepis,
Jiarshall.i
The foregoing classification is purely provisional ; the group re-
quires a complete revision.
Order 2. CERATOSA.
Family 1. DARVfiNELLiDa!. — Canal system of the enrypylous
RhagoQ tjTJe. Flagellated chambers, pouch-shaped, large ; the sur-
ronnding collenchj'me not granular. Homy librea with a thick
core. Examples : DanoineUa, Fritz Midler ; Aplysilla, F.E.S. ;
laiiihella, Grny.
Family 2. Si'0N0ELiDJ3. — Canal system as in tiie BartoincUida,
bnt the flagellated chambers more or less spherical. Horny fibres
with a thin core, and usually containing foreign enclosures,
{■.xamples : Velinea, Vosm. ; Sponrjelia, Mardo ; PsammocUma,
Marshall ; PsammojKrtima, Marshall.
Family 3. Spomo:db. — Canal system aphodal. Chambcrsemall
and spherical ; surrounding coUcnebymo granular. Fibres with a
thin core. Examples: Euspongia. Bronn ; Cosctnoderma, Crtr.;
2'hyllospongia, Ehlers.
* ■
1 PrrR^water sponpei without statoOla-ita aro excluded from thJa family, and
iieli fur dlatrlbutton aiuuu^at aUlcd mahue genera.
Family 4. ApLTsiNinas. — Cinal system diplodal ; collcnchyme
surrounding the llagcUated chambers densely graniilar. 'Fibre?
with a thick core. Examples : Ltiffaria, Duch. and MicL; Venn-
gia, Bwk.; Aplysina, Mardo.
The species of sponge in common use aro three, — Euspongia
officinalis (Linn.), the fino Turkey or Levant sponge; E. timocca
(O.S.), the hard ilimocca sponge ; and Ilippospongia equina, (O.S.),
th<> horse sponge or common bath sponge. The genus Euspongia
is distinguished by the regular development of the skeletal network
throughout the body, its narrow meshes, scarcely or not at all
visfblo to the naked eye, and the regular radiate airangement of
its chfef fibres. Eippospongia is distiugnished by the thinness of
its fibres and the labjTinthic character of the choanosome beneath
the skin. As a consequence its chief fibres have no rcgidai radiate
arrangement. The species of Evspongia arc distinguished as fol-
lows. In E. offieijialis the chief fibres are of different thicknesses,
irregularly swollen at intervals, without exception cored by sand
grains ; in E. zimoeca tliey are thinner, more regular, and almost
iVco from sand. In E. officinalis, again, the uniting fibres are soft,
thin, and clastic ; whilst in E. zimoeca they aro denser and thicker,
to which difi'ercnee the latter sponge owes its characteristic hard-
ness. Finally, the skeleton of £. officinalis is of a lighter colour than
that of E. zimoeca. The common bath sponge {Hippospongia
equina) has almost always a thick cake-like form; but its specific
characters are not yet further defined.
Tribe h. Tetractinellida.
Order 1. CHORISTIDA.
Sub-order 1. SIGMATOPMOPJi.
The microsclere is a sigmaspire.
Family 1. Tetillid.b. — Tlio characteristic megasclcre Ts a pn;.
triiene. Canal system in the lower forms eurypylous, in the higher
r.phodal. The ectosome in the simpler forms is a dermal membrane,
in the higher a highly differentiated cortex. Examples : TeliUa,
O.S.; Craniella, O.S. (fig. 21 h, I).
Family 2. SamidjE. — The characteristic megasclere is an amphi-
tritene.. Example.: Sa-mus, Gray.
Sub-orde? 2. ASTEROPSORA. _
The microsclere is an aster.
Group 1. Spii.astkosa. — A spiraster is usually Tiresent.
Family 1. Theneidj:, Carter. — 'I'lie flesh spicule is a spiraster.
Canal S3'stem eurj-pylous. Ectosome not diilercntiated to form a
cortex. Examples : Thenea, Gray (Ug. 21 a, /) ; Pcecillaslra (Nor-
mani(i), Bwk.
Family 2. +PACinAgTKELLiD^. — Canal system eurypylous in the
lower, aphodal in the higher forms. Examples : Piaiortis, F.E.S.;
Dercitus, Gray.,
Group 2. Epastrosa. — Spirasters are absent.
Family 1. +Stellettid.e. — Canal system aphodal, but approach-
ing the eurypylous in the lower forms. The cortex chiefly consists
of collcnchyme in the lower forms; in the higher it is highly differ-
entiated. Example: Stelldta, O.S. (fig. 11); Ancorina, O.S. ;
Myriaslra, Soil.
Family 2. Tethyid^. — Although this family has been placed
in the Morvaxonida, this seems to be its more natural position.
Group 3. S TERK astrosa. — A sterraster is present, usually in
addition to a simple aster.
Family 1. +Geodinid.e. — The megascleres arc partly triainea.
Canal system always aphodal. Cortex highly differentiated. Ex-
amples: Geodia, Lmk. (fi^. 21 n); Pachymatisma,'Byik. (fig. 21c);
Cydonium, Miiller (fig. 10) ; Eryliis, Gray.
Family 2. PLAcospoNoiDiE. — The megasclere is a tylostyle.
Triaencs are absent. E.xamplo : Placospongia, Gray.
Sub-order 3. MICROSCLBROPUORA.
Microscleres only aro present.
Family 1. Plai;inioa:, Scluilze. — Canal system very simple,
belonging to eurypylous Rhagon type. Cliaiacteristio spicules
candelabra. Examples : P/aiiHi, F.E.S. (fig 2(5).
Family 2. Corticid*;. — Canal system aphodal or diplodal.
Mesoderm a coUenchynie crowded with oval granular cells ; tho
spicules either candelabra, amphitria:nes, or trisenes irregularly
dispersed in it. Example: Corticium, O.S. (figs. 9, 21 b).
Family 3. TiiROiiniDA:. — Canal system diplodal. Spicules tricho-
trisenes. Example : Thrombus, Soil. .,
Tlio PachastrelliJie or tho Corlicidai aro probably tho families
from which the Tetracladlne Lithistids have been df.riv«d. In the
Telilltdm the characteristic microsrlcrc may occa.'sionally fail, but
there is never any difficulty in identifying the sponge in this case,
as tho tritenes aro of a very charactcri.stic form : Iho arms of tho
protria!nc8 are slender, siniiilc, and directed very nmch forwards,
making a very large angle with the .shaft. Jlicrosclcres, having the
form of little globulee, are sometimes present wtU the sigmaspirea
Order 2. LITHISTIDA, O.S.
Snb-order 1. TETRACLADINA, ZitteL
The desmas aio modified calthrops spicules.
424
SPONGES
granules ; at first they extibit lively amoeboid movementa,
but later pass into a resting stage. The cavity of the
mesoderm within which they are situated becomes lined
IjyMm
Fio. 24.— Spcnuatc^fir-. c.-h, Development of spermatozoa in Sycaml^a mpK-
anus, highly Diajrnified : h, mature spermatozoa. After Polejaeff ( x 792). j,
A spenn ball in Cocarcila lobularis ( x 500) ; fc, an isolated mature spermatozoon-
After Schulse (xSOO).
by a layer of epithelium, which may not appear, however,
tUl a late stage of segmentation. In Euspongia officinalis
the ova occur congregated in groups within the mesoderm,
thus presenting an early form of ovary. The spermatozoa,
which also develop from wandering amosboid cells, are
minute bodies with an oval or pear-shaped head and a
long vibratne taO (fig. 24 h). Each amceboid cell produces
a large number of spermatozoa, which occur in spherical
clusters or sperm-balls. The heads of the spermatozoa,
as in the Melazoa, are produced from the nucleus of the
mother-cell, the tails from the surrounding protoplasm.
Tho development in detail is upon two plans. In Oraniia
Family 1 Tetracladids. — Witli the characters of tho sub-
order. Examples: T^OTwWa, Gray (fig. 21 1); Z)isco(fenn«i, Bocage;
"Siphnnia, Parkinson.
Sub-order 2. RHABDOCREPIDA.
The desmas are of various forms, produced by the growth of silica
over a uniaxial spicule.
Family 1. MEGAMORiNlDa;. — The desmas are comparatively
large. Tricenes, usually dichotriaenes, help to tupport the ecto-
some. Microscleres usually spirasters. Examples : Corallistcs,
O.S. ; * Hyalotragos, Zittel; Lyidium, O.S. ; * Dorydermia, ZiUcl.
Family 2. lIiCKOMOEraiD.E. — The desmas are comparatively
small. Trisenes and microscleres are both absent. Examples :
Azorica, Crtr.j * Ferrudina, Zittel.
Sub-order 3. AJVOMOCLADINA,
Desmas with a massive nucleated centrum, from which a variable
number of arms (^S) extend radiately (see fig. 12 /). Examples :
Fetulina, O.S. ; * Astylospongia, Rocmor.
Beproduction and Embryology.
Fresh individuals arise by asexual gemmation, both
external and internal, by fission, and by true sexual repro-
duction.
Fission is probably one of the processes by which com-
p )Und sponges are produced from simple individuals.
Artificial fission has been practised with success in the
cultivation of comraercial sponges for the market. Ex-
ternal gemmation has been observed in Thenea, Tethya,
Polymastia, and Oscarella. A mass of indififercnt sponge-
cells accumulates at some point beneath the skin, bulges
out, drops ofi', and gives rise to a new individual. Internal
gemmation, which results in the formation of a statoblast,
is only known to occur in the freshwater Spongillidx.
The statoblasts consist of a mass of yolk-bearing
mesoderm cells, invested by a capsule, which in
Ejohydatia fluviaiilis is composed of an inner
cuticle of spongin separated from a similar outer
layer by an intermediate zono of amphidisks and
interspersed protoplasmic cells. On one side of
the capsule is a hilum which leads into the interior.
Their development has recently been studied by Gbtte,
with results th^t confirm the conclusions of Carter (j)
and Lieberkiihn (/j). The process commences with an
accumulation of amoeboid cells within the mesoderm to
form a globular cluster ; yolk granules develop within
them, especially in those that lie nearer the centre. The
external cells give rise to the investing capsule ; soma
resemble sponginblasts and secrete the inner and outer
horny cuticle ; others give rise to the amphidisks and
interspersed cells of the middle layer. Under favourable
conditions the interior cells creep out through the pore
of the capsule, and form a spreading heap, which by
subsequent differentiation gives rise to a young Sj>ongilla.
Since the freshwater spcnges can only be regarded as
modified descendants of ancient marine species (prob-
ably of the family Halichondridm), we may consider the
internal gemmules, like the similar statoblasts of the
freshwater Polyzoa, as special adaptations to a changed
mode of life. They appear primarily to serve a protective
purpose, ensuring the persistence of the race, since they
only appear in extreme climates on the approach of
drought, and in cold ones on the approach of winter.
As a secondary function they serve for the dispersal of
the species ; some are light enough to fioat down a
stream, but not too far, so that there is no danger of
their being carried to sea ; others, which are character-
ized by large air-chambers, are possibly distributed by
the wind.
Both sexual elements may be formed in the
same individual, e.g., Oscarella Icbtclaris, Grantia
rapkanus, and many others ; but even in herm-
aphrodites one or other element usually occurs to
excess iil different individuals, so that some are j,„_ 25_ij,^,,„p^,„t „f ^ ..^lea^eous sponge (Sycandra rapte«.). a, ovum ; 5, c, ovum seg.
predominantly male and others predominantly mented,— S, as seen from above, c, lateral view ; d, blastosphere ; e, amphiblastula ; /, com-
fomo'o P/^lo;.>nff ^ni.nJ ^nl-., ««n ^„„1, ^^l^ t „ mencement ofthe invagination of the fljigellated cells of the amphiblastula; g, gastmla
temaie. folejaefl found only one such male form attached by its oval fac?; h, J, young sponge (Asoon stage),-*, lateral view, j, as seen iioin
to 100 female forms in Grantia raphamis. In a^ove. After Schuize.
other sponges — Reniera fertilis, Euspongia officinalis — the
eexes are distinct. The ova develop from archreocytes or
wandering amoeboid cells, which increase in size and ac-
a",urp. a store of reserve nourishment in the form of yolk
raphamis (75) the nucleus of the mother-cell divides into two
(fig. 24 b) ; one of the resulting daughter nuclei undergoes no
further change, but with a small quantity of peripheral protoplasr
forms a " cover-cell " to the other or primitive sperm nucleus and ' *
associated protoplasm. The sperm nucleus repeatedly divides, wi ■*
SPONGES
425
Coelentcrate history as exemplified in the last two events will furnish
an explanation of the remarkable divergencies which distinguish
the two phyla. The history of the second or planula type has been
thoroughly worked out by Schulze (^o) in a little incrusting Tetrac-
tinellid sponge [Plakina nionoloplM, Schulze). The ovum by regu-
lar segmentation produces a blastosphere, the blastomeres of whicl
^•s'JSPoa, /<35"??^>^ ^-.r^!?'.?-'^
1$-'^ . '-::■■.•■;
ont involving the snrrounding protoplasm (fig. 24 cf). The result-
ing nuclei at length cease to exhibit a nucleolus, and become directly
transformed into the heads of spermatozoa; the tails are appropriated
by each head from the common protoplasmic residue. The mother-
cell in this case undergoes no increase in volume as development
proceeds, and it is not enclosed within an "endothelial " layer. In
the second and apparently more usual case (so) no "cover-
cell " is formed, but the mother-cell divides and subdivides,
protoplasm as well as nuclei, till a vast number of minute
cells results ; the nucleus of each becomes the head of a
spermatozoon and the protoplasm its tail. In this case the
sperm-ball does increase in bulk : it grows as it develops,
and the cavity containing it becomes lined by epithelium,
or -so-called " endothelium " (fig. 24/). No doubt (/j) the
development of the epithelium stands in direct physiological
connexion with the growth of the sperm-ball.
Obscure as are the details of this subject, suffi-
cient is known to enable us to make out two chief
lypes of development. One, common amongst the
«Jcareous sponges, and possibly occurring in a single
genus (Gummina) of the Micromastictora, is char-
acterized by what is known as the " amphiblastula "
stagp J the other, widely spread amongst the
Micromastictora (Reniera, Desmacidon, Euspongia,
Spongelia, Aplysilla, Oscarella), is characterized by
a " planula, " stage.
The first has been most thoroughly investigated in
Oraniia raphanus by Schulze {30). The ovnni by repeated
segmentation gives-rise to a hollow vesicle, the wall of
which is formed by a single layer of cells — blastosphere
(fig. 25 d). Eight cells at one pole of the blastosphere S^
now become differentiated from the rest; they remain
rounded in form, comparatively large, and become filled
with granules (stored nutriment), while the others, rapidly
multiplying by division, become small, clear, columnar,
and flagellated. By further change the embryo becomes
egg-shaped; the granular cells, now increased in number
to thirty-two, form the broader end, and the numerous
small flagellated cells the smaller end. Of the granular
cells sixteen are arranged in an equatorial girdle adjoin-
ing the flagellate cells. ' A blastosphere thus difleren-
tiated into two halves composed of different cells is
Itnown as an amphiblastula. 'ihe amphiblastula (fig. 25 e) ^
now perforates the maternal tissue, and is borne along an
excnrrent canal to the oscule, where it is discharged to Fjo. 26.— Development of a Dcmospoitjia (PJaJrijia mono!op/ia). a, planula (the central part
the exterior and swims about in a whirling lively dance.
It then assumes a more spherical form, a change premoni-
tory of the next most remarkable phase of its career. In
this the flagellated layer becomes flattened, depressed, and
finally invaginated within the hemisphere of granular colls,
to the inner face of which it applies itself, thus entirely obliterating
the cleavage cavity, but by tne same process originating another
(the invagination cavity) at its expense (fig. 25/). The two-layered
sac thus produced is a paragastrula ; its outer layer, known as the
gnitoi, gives rise to the ectoderm, the inner layer or hj-poblast to
the endoderm. The paragastrula next becomes somewhat beehive-
shaped, and the mouth of tho paragastrio cavitj' is diminished in
size by an ingrowth of the granular cells around its margin. Tho
larva now settles mouth downwards on some fixed object, and ex-
changes a free for a fixed and stationary existence (fig. 25 g). The
granular cells completely obliterate tho original mouth, and grow
along their outer edge over the surface of attachment in irref;ular
pseudopodial processes, which secure tho young spongo firmly to
Its seat (fig. 25 h). The granular cells now become almost trans-
parent, owing to the exhaustion of tho yolk granules, and allow
the hypoblast within to be readily- seen ; a layer of jelly-like
material, the rudimentary mesoderm, is also to be discerned between
the two layers. The spicules then become visible ; slender oxeas
appear first, and afterwards tri- and quadri-radiato spicules. Tho
larva now elongates into a somewhat cylindrical form ; tho distal
end flattens ; and an oscule opens in its midst. Pores open in tho
walls ; tho endodermal cells, which had temporarily lost their
fla^ella, reacquire them, at tho same tijio extending tho character-
istic collar. In this stage (fig. 25 Ji, j) the young sponge corresponds
to a true Ascon, no trace of radial tubes being visible ; but as they
characterize tho parent spongo they must arise later, and thus wo
liave clear evidence through' ontogeny of tho development of a
Sycon sponge from an Ascon.
The tnrco moat striking features in the history of this larva are,
first, tho amphiblastula stage ; next tho invagination of tho flagel-
late cells within tho granular, instead of invagination in tho reverse
order ; and tliird the attachment of the larva by the oral instead of
the aboral surface. Should Schulze be correct in deriving tho
sponges from the Coelcntera, it is prob''blo that tho reversal of the
should be shaded). &, Section through side of planula ; «c, flagellated cells ; Jl, their
flagella ; col, coenoblast. c. Attached gastrula (the paragaster is formed b^ fission), d.
Section across the foregoing, e, Young sponge (Rhagon). /, Part of a section through
fully grown, sponge ; the attached basal layer is the hypomere ; the spongomere is folded
so as to produce incurrent and excurrent canals ; the canal system is eurypylous ; oy, ova
(a segmented ovum lies between two of them) ; U, blastospheres. After Schulze.
increase in number by further subdivision till they become con-
verted into hyaline cylindrical flagellated cells (fig. 26/). Thus a
blastosphere is produced consisting wholly of similar flagellated celk.
It becomes egg-shaped, and, hitherto colourless, assumes a rose-red
tint, which is deepest over the smaller end. The larva (now a
planula, fig. 26 a, by the filling in of the central cavity) escapes from
the parent and swims about broad end foremost. In this stage
thin sections show that the cleavage cavity is obliterated, its place
being occupied by a mass of granular gelatinous material contain-
ing nuclei (fig. 26 b). In from one to three days after hatching tho
larva becomes attached. It then spreads out into a convex mass,
and a cavity is produced within it by the splitting of the central
jelly (fig. 26 c, d ; compare Eucope and others amongst the Coclcn-
tcrates). This cavity becomes lined by short cylindrical cells (endo-
derm), while the flagellated cells of tho exterior lose their fl.igella
and become converted into pinnacocytcs (ectoderm). Tho gelatin-
ous material left between the two layers now formed acquires the
characters of true coUonchymo and thus becomes tho mesoderm.
Tho endoderm then scuds off into tho mesoderm, as buds, rounded
chambers, which communicate \vith the paragastric cavity by a
wide mouth and with the exterior by small pores (fig. 26 e). An
oscule is formed later, and tho sponge enters upon the Rhagon phase.
Subsequent foldings of tho sponge-wall give rise to a very simple
canal system (fig. 26/). In addition to these two well-ascortained
modes of development others have been describcil which at present
appear aberrant. In Oscarella lobularis, O.S. (.?7), a curious series
of early developmental changes results in tho formation of an
irregular paragastrula, the walls of which become folded (while still
within tho parent sponge) in a complex fashion, so os to produce -n
form in which the incurrent and excurrent canals appear to be
already sketched out before tho fl^igcllatcd chambers arc differenti-
ated off. In Sponrritla Gbtto describes tho ectoderm as becoming
entirely lost on tho attachment of tho larva, so that the future
spongo proceeds from tho endoderm alono. Aa Sponjilla, however,
xxn. — 54
4i26
is a freshwater fonn, anomalies in its development (wliich remind
us of those in the development of the freshwater Hydra) might
almost be expected.
Probably in no other single group is the doctrine of
homoplasy enunciated by Lankester more tellingly illus-
trated than in the sponges. The independent develop-
ment of similar types of canal system in different groups,
sometimes within the limits of a single family, is a remark-
able fact. In the folloA^'ing table the sign x shows inde-
pendent evolution of similar types of canal system in
different groups: —
SPONGES
Cliss CaJcarea
Order Halisarcina
OiAet ilonaxoma,
Order Ceratosa
Sub-order Miarosdero-
phora
Order Choristida -.
I Family Telillidx
AseoD.
,Sj-con.
iUiagoa.
p^o£. ^Pl'O'^'- ^'Pl-xi^'-
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X-
In the gross anatomy of the canal system similar homo-
plasy obtains; thus, to cite one case amongst many, a
peculiar type of canal sj'stem characteristic of Siphonia
(Lithistid) occurs also in^Hy3/oca(B[exactinellid),;S'trAmicZ<ja
(Monaxonid), and other apparently tmrelated genera. The
development of a cortex has likewise taken place inde-
pendently, but on parallel lines, in the Syconidx, Leu-
conid^, MotMxona, Tetillidee, and Stelletiidx. Calcareous
and silicious spicules have evidently an independent his-
tory, and yet all the chief forms of tlio former are repeated
in- the latter. Quite as remarkable is the similarity of
the independently evolved horny spicules of Darwindla
atirea, to the quadri- and sex-radiate silicious spicules. We
have now sufficient knowledge of the morphology and evolu-
tion of the sponge to furnish the physicist with data for an
explanation of the skeleton, at least in its main outlines.
The obvious conclusion from this is that variation does not
depend upon accident, but on the operation of physical
laws as mechanical in their action hero as in the mineral
world. Another important consequence follows : if homo-
plasy — i.e., the independent evolution of similar structures
^3 of such certain and quite common occurrence in the
case of the sponges, it is also to be looked for in other
groups, and polyphylitic origin, so far from being improb-
able, is as likely an occurrence as monophylitic origin.
Physiology and .Etiology.
Under the head of "physiology" we have almost a
blank. At present we do not even know what cells of the
sponge are primarily concerned in the ingestion of food.
If a living sponge, such as Spongi'Ja, be fed with carmine
for a few minutes, then immersed in dilute osmic acid, and
examined in thin sections, its flagellated chambers are
found to be all marked out as red circular patches, and a
closer investigation shows that the choanocytes, and they
alone, have ingested the carmine. In this way we con-
firm the earlier observations of Carter made by teasing
Carmine -fed sponges. This might be thought to decide
the question ; but, though it effectually disposes of Pole-
jaeff's argument that the choanocytes do not ingest nutri-
ment because mechanical disadvantages (conceived a priori)
make it impossible, it has not proved a final solution. Von
Lendenfeld, by feeding sponges "such as Aplysilla with
carmine for a longer interval — a quarter of an hour — finds
that amoeboid cells crowd about the sides and particularly
the floor of the subdermal cavities, and are soon loaded
vith carmine granules ; after a- time they wander away to
the flagellated chambers and there cast out into the ex-
current canals the carmine they have absorbed, apparently
in an altered state. On the other hand, the choanocytes
though they at first absorb the carmine, soon thrust it oui,
apparently in an unaltered state. Hence Von Lendenfeld
concludes that it is the epithelium of the subdermal cavities
which is charged with the function of ingestion, and that
the amceboid cells subsequently digest and distribute it,
and finally cast out the worthless residues. There -may bo
much truth in this view, but it requires i/> be supported
by further evidence. (1). Sufficient proof is not adduced
to show that the carmine granules expelled from the amoe-
boid cells are really more decomposed than those rejected
by the choanocytes. (2) There is at present no proof that
carmine is a food, or that if it is sponges will readily feed
upon it. In either case 'one would expect the amoeboid
cells to play the part which they perform in other organisms
and to remove as soon as possible useless or iiTitant mattei
from the surface which it encumbers ; at the same time
the choanocytes, not having found the food to their liking,
would naturally eject it. (3) If the choanocytes do not
ingest food, how does the Ascon feed, since in this sppnge
all the pinnacocytes are external? It is, however, a very
noticeable fact that, as the organization of a sponge
increases in complexity, the choanocytal layers become
reduced in volume relative to the whole bulk of the
individual ; and it is quite possible that as histological
differentiation proceeds it may be accompanied by physio-
logical differentiation which relieves the choanocytes to
some extent of the ingestive part of their labours.
The origin of the sponges is to be sought for among .sc,
the choanoflagellate Infusoria; and Savile Kent has de-°^
scribed a colonial form of this group which is suggestively
similar to a sponge. Its differences, however, are as
marked as its resemblances, and have been suflSciently
pointed out by Schulze {sj). Kent has called this form
Frotospongia, a name already made uscpof, and fortunately,
as the organism is not in any sense a true sponge ; the
present writer proposes, therefore, to call it Savillia, in
honour of its discoverer. It consists of choanoflagellate
Infusoria (see Peotozoa, vol. six. p. 858, fig. XXI., 15),
half projecting from and half embedded in a structureless
jelly or blastema, within which other cells of an amoeboid
character and reproductive function are immersed. Pro-
fessor Haddon arrives at the generalization that conjuga-
tion amongst the Protozoa always takes place between
individuals of the same order : flagellate cells conjugate
with flagellate, amoeboid with amoeboid, but never with
flagellate ; while in true sexual reproduction the conjuga-
tion.occurs between two individual ceils in different stages
of their life cycle : a flagellate ceL' conjugates with a resting
amceboid cell. Now Savillia would appear to be extremely
near such a true sexual process, since the simultaneous
coexistence of cells in two different stages of life and
within easy reach of each other — a necessary preliminary,
one would think, to the union — has already been brought
about. That coalescence between two different histological
elements should result in products similarly histologically
differentiated (compare amphiblastula stage of Calcarea)
has in it a cercain fitness, which, however, has still to be
explained. The mode by which an organism like Savillia
might become transformed into an Ascon cannot be sug-
gestively outlined with, any satisfactory results till our
knowledge of the embryology of sponges is more advanced.
The minute characters of the flagellate cells of the amphi-
blastula and other sponge larvse are still a subject for
research. They often possess a neck or coUum ; but the
existence of a frill or collar is disputed. Kent asserts
that it is present in several embryos which he figures ;
and Barrois makes the same assertion in respect to the
larva of Oscarella, and illustrates his description with a
figure. Ca the other hand, Schulze and Marshall botl
SPONGES
4%
■deny its existence, and the former attributes Kent's
observations to error. One constant character they do
possess : they are provided with flagella at some stage of
their existence, but never with cilia. Ciliated ceUs, in-
deed, are unknown amongst the sponges, and, when pinna-
cocytes excej)tionally acquire vibratile filaments, as in
Oscarella and other sponges, these are invariably fiagella,
never cUia. An Ascon stage having been reached at some
point in the history of the sponges, the Sycon tubes and
Rhagoa chambers would arise from it by the active pro-
liferation of choanocytes about regularly distributed centres,
possibly as a result of generous feeding. Vosmaer recog-
nized as the phj'siological cause of Sycon an extension of
the choanoeytal layer. Polejaeff, relying on Von Lenden-
feld's experiments, which seem to prove that it is the
pinnacocytes and not the choanocytes which are concerned
in the ingestion of nutriment, argues that, as in Sycon
the pinnacocytal layer is increased relatively to the choano-
eytal, we have in this a true explanation of the transition.
The existence of Homoderma, Lfd., however, shows that
in the first stage there was not a replacement of choano-
cytes by pinnacocytes, but that this was a secondary
change, following the development of radial tubes, and
therefore cannot be relied upon to explain them. The
radial tubes having been formed by a proliferation of
choanoeytal cells, the reduction of those lining the para^
gastric cavity to pinnacocytes would follow in consequence
of the poisonous character of the water delivered from the
radial tubes to the central cavity, since this water not
only parts with its dissolved oxygen to the choanocytes
it first encounters, but receives from them in exchange
urea, carbonic acid, and faecal residues. The development
of subdermal cavities is explicable on Von Lendenfeld's
hypothesis.
Distrihution.
itribu- Our knowledge of this subject is at present but frag-
°,,, mentary ; we await fuller information in the remaining
reports on the sponges obtained by the " Challenger." The
sponges are widely distributed through existing seas, and
freshwater forms are found in the rivers and lakes of all
continents except Australia, and in numerous islands, in-
cluding New Zealand. Many genera and several species
are cosmopolitan, and so are most orders.
As instances of the same species occuwiDg 'in widely remote
. localities wo take the following from Polejaeff : — Sycon ardicum is
found at the Bermudas and in the Philippine Islands, as also aro
Leuconia multiformis and LewJUa utcr ; Sycon raplmnus occurs at
Tristan da Cunha and the Philippines ; Hctcrojyegriuc nodiis-gordii
and Leuconia dura at the Bermudas and Torres Straits. We do not
'know, however, whether these species are isolated in their distribu-
tion or connected by intermediate localities. Of the Calcarca about
eighty-one species have been obtained from the Atlantic, twenty-
two from the Pacific, and twenty-two from the Indian Ocean ; but
those nnhibers no doubt depend largely on the extent to which the
several oceans havo been investigated, for the largest number, of
species has been found in the ocean nearest homo. Schulze states
that tho ffexactinellida brought home by the "Challenger" were
obtained at seventeen Atlantic stations, twenty-seven Pacific, and
nineteen in the South Seas. In the lost the number of species
was greatest, in the Atlantic least. They flourish best on a
bottom of diatomaceous mud. The Calcarea and Ccratosa are
most abundant in shallow water and down to 40 fatlioms, but
they descend to from 400 to 450 fathoms. The Bexaclimllida are
most numerous over continental depths, i.e., 100 to 200 fathoms ;
bnj; they ertend downwards to over 2500 fathoms and upwards
into shallow water (10 to 20 fathoms). Tho Lithislida aro not such
deep-water forms as the Hexactincllida, being most numerous from
10 to 150 fathoms. Only one or two species have been dredged
from depths gi-eatcr than 400 fathoms, and none from 1000 fathoms.
The Ch»rislida range from shallow water to abyssal depths. A
characteristic deep-sea Ohoristid genus is Thcnea, Gray (= ]VyvilU
Tliompsonia, Wright ; Donillia, Kent). This is most frequently
dredged from depths of from 1000 to 2000 fathoms ; hut it extends
to 2700 fathoms on tho one hand and to 100 on tho other.
Until about 1876 one of tho chief obstacles to tho inter-
pretation of fossil sponges arose from a singular mineral
replacement which most of them have imdergone, leading
to the substitution of calcite for the silica of which their
skeletons were originally composed. This change was de-
monstrated by Zittel (jj) and Sollas (24), and, though it
was at first pronounced impossible, owing to objections
founded on the chemical nature of siUca, it has since be-
come generally recognized. These observers also showed
that the fossil sponges do not belong to extinct types, but
are assignable to existing orders. Zittel in addition sub-
jected large collections to a careful analysis and marshalled
them into order' with remarkable success. Since then
several paleontologists have worked at the subject, — Pocta,
Dunikowski, and Hinde (7), who has published a Cata-
lorfue — which is much more than a catalogue — of the
sponges preserved in the British Museum. The result of
their labours is in general terms as follows. Fossil sponges
are chiefly such as from the coarseness or consistency of
their skeletons would be capable of preservation in a miner-
alized state. Thus the majority are Hexactinellida, chiefly
Bictyonina ; Tetractinellida, chiefly Lithistida ; and Cal-
carea, chiefly Leucoruxria. Monaxonid sponges rarely occur ;
the most ancient is Climacospongia, Hinde, found in Sil-
urian rocks. A very common Halichondroid sponge of this
group {Pharetrospongia strahani, Soil.) occurs in the Cam-
bridge greensand; it owes its preservation to the collection
of its small oxeate spicules into dense fibres. The Chorktida,
though not so common as the Lithistids, are commoner
than the Monaxonids, particularly in Mesozoic strata.
The distribution of fossil sponges in the stratified systems may
be summarized as follows. C.\lcaeea. — Sovioc^la, ■aone. HcUro-
ccela, a Sycouid, in the Jurassic system. Numerous Leuconaria
from the Devonian upwards. MYxospoyoia:. — None ; not fitted
for preservation. Hexactinellida.— X»/«sacMia, from the Lower
Cambrian upwards. Diclyonina, commencing in the SilurL-ui ; most
numerous in the Mesozoic group ; still existing. JIoxaxonida. —
Monaxona, from the Silurian upwards. Ceraiosa, none ; few are
fitted for preservation. Tethactinellida. — Chorislida, from the
Carboniferous upwards ; most numerous in the Cretaceous system.
Lithistida, from the Silurian upwards ; most numerous in the
Mesozoic group. In ancient times the Hexactinellids and Lithistida
seem not to have been so comparatively uncommon in shallow
water as they aro at the present day. Thus, in the Lower Jurassic
strata of the south-west of England we find Dictyonine Hexactinel-
lids, Lithistids, and Leuconarian Calcarea associated together in a
shelly breccia and in company with littoral shells, such as Patella
and Trochiis. Several Palreozoio Hcxactinellids actually occur in a
fine-grained sandstone. Of the Chalk, which is the great mine of
fossil sponges, we must speak with caution, oiving to the insufficient
evidence as to the depth at which it ivas deposited.
As shown by Protospongia, the phylum of tho sponges was in
existence in very early Cambrian times, and probably much earlier.
Before the end of the Silurian period its main branches had spread
themselves out, and, developing fresh shoots since then, they havo
extended to tho present day. Of the offshoots none of higher value
than families are known to have become extinct, and of these
decayed branches there are very few. Tho existence in modern
seas of the Asconidie,' viXuch. must surely havo branched off very
near the base of the stem, is another curious instance of the per-
sistence of simple types, which would thus appear not to bo so vastly
worse off in tho struggle for existence than their more highly
organized descendants.
Bibliography.— A. fairly complete list of works on apooges published before
1SS2 will be found in Vosmaer's article "Porifcnt," in Bronn's Klasscn und
Ordnnngen, vol ii. D'Arcy Thompson's Cixtalort\te 0/ Papers on Frotozija and
Cxltntcrata, a still more complot* list, '"v'..-..u t,. iss^.
Tho followinK is .1 list of works, inc-'i ^ferrod to in tlip preceding
pages :— (/) C. B."liToi3, Kmbrmlo-t-r ■.'. t:d. I. Manche, Paris, 1879.
(j) Bowcrbank, A iloiwgrajih of BriU^:^ u,. n^ , vols, l.-iv., ISlil-Sa (vol.
iv. is posthumous, edited by Dr Norroan). (s) t'artcr, n scries of papers in tho
Ann. and Mag. tiat. Hisl., from 1S17 to tl;e present I irns (1867). (<) J. Clark, On
f?ie Sponjjiro cillatte n5 Inmsoria flaKell.T* ' !-•'■■ t-\r.-„xf rt- (■;■• i..<,rn.,
1825. (6) HACCkol, SiOnoyraphie d. K ' 'ViM-
hgvco/ihcSponfjc3 inthc Uritish Muscle: 1, .tjr,"
in Qitart. Joitm. Oeol. Snc, x\. 7y5, 18-^ 1 'i.'n
u. Entwickoluiigd. Ohalinecu," in iU?-'
"Notes on tho Fniltrynlogv of llie ^
1S7S, il. ISO. (//) Von Ix'mlenr.ll. ■■
wtxviii. (/i)Id.,"AMonograiili ' .V.,S.
Wala, vols, ix., x. (other j)ap.- ,- Uii*
reference, and also in the /yi^/. i-nUl
History of .9;H)»yi7/a," in Mull f\r.,
ivili.,l«8J(tran!.l»t<>d in ^nn. II rm*
and Siiorciatugcucsia iir 4'i/c"i:. . Jiel,i
428
SPONGES
Inst. d. Vniversitat Graz. (/tf) Id., "Challengeir" Jteport on the Calcarea, 18S3.
(i/) Id., Ditto on the Ceralom, 18S4. (/*) Ridley. On the Zool. Collection of the
"Alert," 1884. (/«) Schmidt, Sponge's of the Adriatic Sm, 1862, with Supple-
ment 1 in 1864, and Suppltinent 2 in 1866 ; Sponges of the Coast of Algiers, 1868;
Sponge-Fauna of the Atlantic, 1870 ; Sponges of the Gnlf of Mexico, 1879. (ro)
F. E. Schulze, investigations into the structure and development of sponges,
in Ztschr.f. wiss. Zool., — " On Balisarea," vol. xxviii., 1877: "O-aChondrosid^v,"
rxix., 1877; "On Aplysinidx," xxx., 1878; "On metamorphosis of Sycandra.
raphaniut," xxxi., 1878; "On Spongelia," xjodi., 1878; "On Sport^idx," ib.;
"On .Hircinia. and Oligoceras," xxxiii., 1879; "On Flakinidse," xxxiv., 18S0 ;
"On Corticium candelabrum," xxxv., 1881. (?/) Id., "On^oft Parts of
Euplectella, aspergillum," in Trails. Roy. Soc. Edin., xsix., 1880. (^^) Id.,
Preliminary lieport on the "Challenger" Hexactinellida. (i-j) Id., "On the
Relationship of the Sponges to the Choanoflagctlala," in Sitz.-Ber. d. k.-preuss.
t1 , J ...; */ i:,n>.1,-n 100R ^nndnfn.l in v1 -i w nvri \fnn hJnf Wiff^ IRS'i
ib.; "On Prolospmgiti" ib., xncvi., 1880. (rj) Id., "The Sponge-Fauna of
Norway," in Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 1880-82. U6) Id., " The Flint-Nodules of
the Trimmingham Chalk," ib., vi., 1879. (^7) Id., " Development of Halisarea
lohularts," in Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci., xxiv., 18S4. (iS) Id., " On Vetulina and
the Anomedadina," in Proc. B. Irish Acad., iv., 1885. (?9) Id., "Physical
Characters of Spiinge-Spicules," in Proc. R. Dub. Soc, 1SS5. 'jo) Vejdovsky,
"The Freshwater Sponges of Bohemia," in Abk. d. k. Bohm. Akad. d. Wiss., ser.
vi., vol. xii., 18S3. (jl/) Vosmaer, On Leucandra aspera (doctor's diss., Leyden,
1880). ij3) Id., "On the Desmacidinidfe," in Notes from the Leyden Museum,
vol. ii. OS) Sponges of the Wiltem Barenls Expedition, 1884. (7<) " Porifeise," in
Bronn's Klassen und Ordnungen, vol. ii., 1882, and still in progress, (ss) Zittel,
studies of fossil sponges, in Abh. d. k. layer. Akad.,—Hexcu:tineUida, 1877;
Lithistida, 187S ; Monactinellida and Calcarea, 1878.
Commerce.
Wlen the living matter is removed from a Ceratose
sponge a network of elastic horny fibres, the skeleton of
the animal, remains behind. This is the sponge of com-
merce. Of such sponges the softest, finest in texture, and
most valued is the Turkey or Levant sponge, Euspongia
officinalis^ Lin. The other two varieties are the Eippo-
spongia equina, O. Schmidt, and the Zimocca sponge,
Euspongia zimocca, O.S., which is not so soft as the others
©ittri'ba- (see p. 423 above). All three species are found at from 2
•«» to 100 fathoms along the whole Mediterranean coast, includ-
ing its bays, gulfs, and islands, except the western half of
its northern shores as far as Venice and the Balearic Isles,
Corsica, Sardinia, and Sicily. Bath sponges occur around
the shores of the Bahamas, and less abundantly on the north
coast of Cuba. They are of several kinds, one not dis-
tinguishable from the fine Levant sponge ; others, the
"yellow" and "hardhead" varieties, resemble the Zimocca
sponge ; and of horse sponges there appear to be several
varieties, such as the " lamb's-wool " and the "velvet"
sponge (Sippospongia gossypina and n. meandriformis).
The fine bath sponge occiirs on the shores of Australia
(Torres Straits, the west coast, and Port Phillip on the
south coast). A sponge eminently adapted for bathing
purposes {Coscinoderma lanuginosum, Crtr.j Euspongia
mathewsii, Lfd.), but not yet brought into the market,
occurs about the South Caroline Islands, where it is actu-
ally in use, and at Port Phillip in Australia. The fine
bath sponge' occurs in the North Pacific, South Atlantic,
and Indian Oceans, so that its distribution is world-wide.
The methods employed to get sponges from the bottom
of the sea, where they grow attached to rocks, stones, and
other objects, depend on the depths from which they are
to be brought. In comparatively shallow water they may
be loosened and hooked up by a harpoon; at greater
depths, down to 30 or 40 fathoms, they are dived for; and
at depths of from 50 to 100 fathoms they are dredged
with a net. The method of harpooning was the earliest
practised, and is still carried on in probably its -most
primitive form by the Dalmatian fishermen. Small boats
are used, manned by a single harpooner with a boy to
steer ; when, however, the expedition is to extend over
night the crew is doubled. The harpoon is a five-pronged
fork with a long wooden handle, and if this is not long
enough another harpoon is lashed on to it. Th& Greek
fishers use a large boat furnished with two or three smaller
ones, from which the actual harpooning is carried on ; the
crew numbers seven or eight. One of the chief difficulties
is to see the bottom distinctly through a troubled surface.
The Dalmatian fishers throw a smooth stone dipped in oil
a yard or so in front of the beat ; the stone scatters drops
of oil as it flies and so makes a smooth track for the " look-
out." The Greeks use a zinc-plate cylinder about Ii feet
long and 1 foot wide, closed at the lower end by a pUte of
glass, which is immersed below the surface of the sea ; on
looking through this the bottom may be clearly seen even
in 30 fathoms. This plan is also adopted in the Bahamas,
where harpooning carried on after the Greek system gives
employment to over 5000 men and boys.
The primitive method of diving with no other apparatus
than a slab of stone to serve as a sinker and a cord to
communicate with the surface is still practised in the
Mediterranean. The diver carries a net round his neck
to hold the sponges. On reaching the Jjottom he hastily
snatches up whatever sponge he sees. After staying down
as long as he is able — an interval which varies from two
to at the most three minutes — he tugs violently at the
cord and is rapidly drawn up. On entering the boat from
depths of 25 fathoms he quickly recovers from the efiects
of his plunge after a few powerful respirations ; but after
working at depths of 30 to 40 fathoms or more he reaches
the surface in a swooning state. At the beginning of the
season blood usually flows from the mouth and nose after a
descent ; this is regarded as a symptom of good condition ;
should it be wanting the diver will scarcely venture a second
plunge for the rest of the season. The work is severe, and
frequently the diver returns empty-handed to the boat.
Diving is usually carried on in the summer months; in
winter it is too cold, at all events without a diving-dress.
The ordinary diver's dress with pumping apparatus is
largely used by the Greeks. The diving is carried on
from a ship manned by eight or nine men, including one,
or rarely two, divers. At a depth of from 10 to 15 fathoms
the diver can remain under for an hour, at greater depths
up to 20 fathoms only a few minutes ; the consequences of -
a longer stay are palsy of the lower extremities, stricture,
and other complaints. Dredging is chiefly carried on along
the west coast of Asia Minor, principally in winter after
the autumn storms have torn up the seaweeds covering
the bottom. The mouth of the dredge is 6 yards wide
and 1 yard high ; the net is made of camel-hair cords of
the thickness of a finger, with meshes 4 inches square. It
is drawn along the bottom by a tow-line attached to the
bowsprit of a sailing vessel or hauled in from the shore.
Prompted by a suggestion made by Oscar Schmidt, that Coltiv*-
sponges might be artificially propagated from cuttings, t'oo-
the Italian Government supplied funds for experiments to
determine the feasibility of cultivating sponges as an in-
dustrial pursuit. A station was estabKshed on the island
of Lesina, off the Dalmatian coast, and experiments were
carried on there for six years (1867-72) under the super-
intendence of Von Buccich. The results were on the whole
successful, but all expectations of creating a new source
of income for the sponge-fishers of Dahnatia were defeated
by the hostility of the fishers themselves.
The details of the method of sponge-farming as practised
by Von Buccich are briefly as follows. The selected speci-
mens, which should be obtained in as uninjured a state as
possible, are placed on a board moistened with sea water
and cut with a knife or fibae saw into pieces about 1 inch
square, care being taken to preserve the outer skin as in-
tact as possible. The operation is best performed in winter,
as exposure to the air is then far less fatal than in summer.
The sponge cuttings are then trepanned and skewered on
bamboo rods ; the rods, each bearing three cuttings, are
secured in an upright position between two parallel boards,
which are then sunk to the bottom of the sea and weighted
with stones. In choosing a spot for the sponge-farm the
mouths of rivers and proximity to submarine springs must
be avoided ; mud in this case, as in that of reef-building
S P O — S P O
42.Q
corals, is fatal. A favourable situation is a sheltered bay
with a rocky bottom ovcrgrowji with green seaweed and
freshened by gentle waves and currents. So favoured,
the cuttings grow to a sponge two or three times their
original size in one year, and at the end of five to seven
years are large enough for the market. Similar experi-
ments with similar results have more recently been carried
on in Florida. The chief drawback to successful sponge-
farming would appear to be the long interval which the
cultivator has to wait for his first crop.
After the sponge has been taken from the sea, it is ex-
posed to the air till signs of decomposition set in, and
then without delay either beaten with a thick stick or
trodden by the feet in a stream of flowing water till the
jkin and other soft tissues are completely removed. If
this process is postponed for only a few hours after the
sponge has been exposed a whole day to the air it is almost
impossible to completely purify it. After cleaning it is
hung up in the air to dry, and then with others finally
pressed into bales. If not completely dried before pack-
ing the sponges "heat,-" orange yellow spots appearing on
the parts attacked. The only remedy for this is to unpack
the bale and remove the afTccted sponges. The orange-
coloured spots produced by this " pest," or " cholera " as
the Levant fishermen term it, must not be confounded
with the brownish red colour which many sponges natu-
rally possess, especially near their base. The sponges on
reaching the wholesale houses are cut to a symmetrical
shape and further cleaned. The light -coloured sponges
often seen in chemists' shops have been bleached by
chemical means which impair their durability. Sponges
are sold by weight ; sand is used as an " adulteration."
It is difficult to obtain recent statistics as to the extent
of the sponge trade ; the following table gives a summary
of the sponges sold in Trieste, the great European sponge
market, in the year 1871 : —
Description of Sponge.
For Export.
For Home Cocsamption.
Valne in &
Mean price
per pound.
Value in £
Mean price
per pocnd.
Hors3 sponge
£60,000
20,000
20,000
2,000
63.
63.
143.
8s.
£4400
650
950
6s.
6s.
Hi.
Zimocca sponge
Fine Levant sponge
Fine Dalmatian sponge
{\y. J. s.)
SPONSOR. The presence of some suitable sponsor
or sponsors to give the answers required and undertake
the vows involved would seem to be almost essential to the
right administration of the sacrament of baptism, in the
case of infants at least. In this aspect, however, as in
many others, the early history of the development of the rite
of baptism remains obscure. The Greek word for the
person undertaking this function is a.va£o-)(p<s, to which the
Latin susceptor is equivalent. The word " sponsor " in this
ecclesiastical sense occurs for the first time, but incidentally
only, and as Lf it were already long familiar, in Tertullian's
treatise De Baptismo (c. 18), where, arguing that in certain
circumstances baptism may conveniently be postponed,
especially in the case of little children, he asks, " For
why is it necessary that the sponsors likewise should be
thrust into danger, who both themselves by reason of
mortality may fail to fulfil their promises, and may also
be disappointed by the development of an evil disposition
[in those for whom they become sponsors] 'i " There is
nothing to make it unlikely that the sponsors here alluded
to may have been in many cases the actual parents, and
even in the 5th century it was not felt to be inappropriate
that they should be so ; Augustine, indeed, in one passage
appears to speak of it as a matter of course that parents
should bring their children and answer for them " tanquam
fidejussores" (^_pis<. . . . ad Bonif., 98). The compara-
tively early appearance, however, of such names as co7;i-
patres, comriiatres, propatres, .promatres, patrini, matrinx is
of itself sufiBcient evidence, not only that the sponsorial rela-
tionship had come to be regarded as a very close one, but
also that it was not usually assumed by the natui'al parents.
How very close it was held to be is shown by the Justini-
anian prohibition of marriage between godparents and
godchildren. On the other hand, the anciently allowable
practice of parents becoming sponsors for their own children
seems to have lingered until the 9th century, when it was
at last formally prohibited by the council of JIainz (813).
For a long time there was no fixed rule as to the necessary
or allowable number of sponsors, and sometimes the number
actually assumed was large. By the council of Trent,
however, it was decreed that one only, -or at most two,
these not being of the same sex, should.be permitted. The
rubric of the Church of England according to which " there
shall be fo/ every male child to bo baptized two godfathers
and one godmother, and for every female one godfather
ftnd two godmothers," ia not older than 1561 ; in the
Catechism the child is taught to say that he received his
name from his "godfathers and godmothers." At the
Eef ormation the Lutheran churches retained godfathers and
godmothers, but the Reformed churches reverted to what
they believed to be the more primitive rule, that in ordi-
nary circumstances this function should be undertaken by
a child's proper parents. All churches, it may be added, of
course demand of sponsors that they be in full communion.
In the Church of Rome priests, monks, and nuns are dis-
qualified from being sponsors, either "because it might
involve their entanglement in worldly afiairs," or more
probably because every relationship of fatherhood or
motherhood is felt to be in their case inappropriate.
SPONTINI, Gaspaho Luigi Pacifico (1774-1851),
dramatic composer, was born at Majolati (Ancona) in Italy,
14th November 1774, and educated at the Conservatorio
de' Turchini at Naples under Sala, Tritto, and Salieri.
After producing some successful operas at Rome, Florence,
Naples, and Palermo, he settled in 1803 at Paris. His
reception in the French capital was anything but flatter-
ing. His first comic opera, Julie, proved a failure ; his
second, Za Petite Maison, was hissed. Undaunted by
these misfortunes, he abandoned the light and somewhat
frivolous style of his earlier works, and in Milton, a one-
act opera produced in 1804, achieved a real success.
Spontini henceforth aimed at a very high ideal, and during
the remainder of his life strove so earnestly to reach it
that he frequently remodelled his passages five or six times
before permitting them to be performed in public, and
wearied his singers by introducing new improvements at
every rehearsal. His first masterpiece was La Vesiale,
completed in 1805, but kept from the stage through the
opposition of a jealous clique until 15th December 1807,
when it was produced at the Acadtoie, and at once took
rank with the finest works of its class. The composers
second opera, Ferdinand Cortez, was received with equal
enthusiasm in 1809 ; but bis third, Olympia, was much
less warmly welcomed in 1819.
Spontini had been appointed in 1810 director of the
Italian opera ; but his quarrelsome and grasping disposi-
tion led to his summary dismissal in 1812, and, though
reinstated in 1814, he voluntarily resigned Lis post soon
afterwards. He was in fact very ill fitted to net as
director ; yet on 28th May 1820, five months oftcr the
failure of Olympia, he settled in Berlin by invitation of
Frederick William III., commissioned to superintend all
430
S P O — S P O
music performed at the Prussian court and compose two
new grand operas, or three smaller ones, every three years.
But he began by at once embroiling himself with the in-
tendant, Count Briihl. Spontini's life at Berlin may be
best described as a ceaseless struggle for precedence, under
circumstances which rendered its attainment impossible in
the sense in which he desired it. Yet he did good work,
and did it well. Die Vestalin, Ferdinand Coriez, and
Ohjmpia — the last two entirely remodelled — were produced
with great success in 1821. A new opera, Novrmahal,
founded on Moore's LaUa JRookh, was performed in 1822,
and another, entitled Alcidor, in 1825; and in 1826
Spontini began the composition of Agnes von Hohenstaufen,
a work planned on a grander scale than any of his former
efforts. The first act was performed in 1827, and the
complete work in three acts graced the marriage of Prince
William in 1829. Though the German critics abused it
bitterly, Agnes von Hohenstaufen is undoubtedly Spontini's
greatest work. In breadth of conception and grandeur of
style it exceeds both Die Vestalin and Ferdinand Cortez,
and its details are worked out with untiring conscientious-
ness ; yet Spontini was utterly dissatisfied with it, and at
ohce set to work upon an entire revision, which on its repre-
sentation in 1837 was in many parts scarcely recognizable
by those who had heard the opera in its original form.
This was his last great work. He several times be'gan
to rewrite his early opera. Hilton, and contemplated the
treatment of many new subjects, such as Sappho, La
C'olere d'Achille, and other classical myths, but with no
definite result. He had never been popular in Berlin ;
and he has been accused of endeavouring to prevent the
performance of Euryanthe, Oberon, Die Hochzeit des
Camacko, Jessonda, Robert the Devil, and other works of
genius, through sheer envy of the laurals won by their
composer:). But the critics and reviewers of the period
were so closely leagued together against him that it is
difficult to know what to believe. After the death of
Frederick William III. in 1840, Spontini's conduct became
so violent and imperious that in 18i2 Frederick William
rV. dismissed him, with power to retain his titles and
live wherever he pleased in the enjoyment of his full
salary. Ho elected to settle once more in Paris, after a
short visit to Italy ; but beyond conducting occasional per-
formances of some of his own works he made but few
attempts to keep his name before the public. In 18i7 he
revisited Berlin and was invited by the king to conduct
some performances during the winter. In 184S he became
deaf. In 1850 he retired to his birthplace, Majolati, and
died there on 14th January 1851, bequeathing all he pos-
sessed to the poor of his native town.
SPOONBILL. The bird now so called was formerly
known in England as the Shovelard or Sho velar, while that
which used to bear the name of Spoonbill, often amplified
into Spoon-billed Duck, is the Shoveler (see vol. xsi.
p. 842) of modern days — the exchange of names having
been effected, as already stated {loc. cit.) about 200 years
ago, wheu the subjeet of the present notice — the Platalea
leucorodia of Linnseus as well as of recent writers — was
do>:btless far better known than now, since it evidently
was, from ancient documents, the constant concomitant
of Herons, and with them the law attempted to protect
it.^ Mr Harting {Zoologist, 188G, pp. 81 et seq.) has cited
a case from the "Year-Book" of 14 Hen. VIH. (1523),
' Nothing shows better the futility of the old statutes for the
protectiou of birds than the fact that in J 534 the taking of tlie eggs
of Herons, Spoonbills (Shovelars), Cranes, Bitterns, and Bustards was
visited by a heavy penalty, whale there was none for destroying the
parent hirHs in the breeding-seasou. All of the species just named,
except the Hernu, have passed away, while there is strong reason to
think that some at least might have survived had the prbiciple of the
Levitical bw (Dent. xxii. 6) been followed.
wherein the then bishop of London (Cuthbert Tunstall)
maintained an action of trespass against the tenant of
a close at Fulham for taking Herons and "Shovelars"
that made their nests on the trees therein growing, and
has also printed {Zoologist, 1877, pp. 425 (t seq.) an old
document showing that " Shovelars " bred iu certain woods
in west Sussex iu 1570. Nearly one hundred years later
(circa 1662) Sir Thomas Browne, in his Account of Birds
found in N'orfolh {WorJcs, ed. Wilkin, iv. pp. 315, 316),
stated of the "■Pkdea or Shouelard" that it formerly
"built in the Hernerie at Claxton and Keedham, now
at Trimley in Suffolk." This last is the latest known
proof of the breeding of the species in England ; but more
•recent evidence to that effect may be hoped for from other
sources. That the Spoonbill was in the fullest sense of
the word a "native" of England is thxis incontestably
shown ; but for many years past it has only been a
more or less regular visitant, though not seldom in con-
siderable numbers, which would doubtless, if allowed, once
more make their home there ; but its conspicuous appear-
ance renders it an easy mark for the greedy gunner and
the' contemptible collector. WTiat may have been tlie
case formerly is not known, except that, according to
Belon, it nested in his time (1555) in the borders of
Britanny and Poitou; but as regards north-western Etirope
it seems of late years to have bred only in Holland, and
there it has been deprived by drainage of its favourite
resorts, one after the other, so that it must shortly become
merely a stranger, except in Spain or the basin of the
Danube and other parts of south-eastern Europe.
The Spoonbill ranges over the greater part of middle and southern
Asia,- and breeds abundantly in India, as well as on some of the
islands in the Red Sea, and seems to be resident throughout
JTorthern Africa. In Southern Africa its place is taken by an
allied species with red legs, P. criUata or tenuirostris, which also
goes to Madagascar. Australia has two other species, P. regia oi
melanorhync/acs, with black bill and feet, and P. flavipes, in which
those parts are yellow. The very beautiful and wholly different
P. ajaja is the Roseate Spoonbill of America, and is the only one
found on that continent, the tropical or juxta-tropical parts of
which it inhabits. The rich pink,, deepening in some parts into
crimson, of nearly all its plumage, together "with the yellowish
green of its bare head and its lake-colcured legs, sufficiently marks
this bird ; but all the other species are almost wholly clothed in
pure white, though the English has, when adult, a fine buff pectoral
band, and the spoon-shaped expanse of its bill is yellow, contrast-
ing with the black of the compressed and basal portion. Its legs
are also black. In the breeding so:!Son, a pendent tuft of white
plumes further ornaments the head of both sexes, but is longest in
the male. The young of the year have the primary qtiills dark-
coloured.
The Spoonbills form a natural group, Plataleidx, allied,
as before stated (Ibis, vol. xii. p. 606), to the Ibididx,
and somewhat more distantly to the Storks (see Stoek),
— all belonging to the Pelargomorphx of Prof. Huxley.
They breed in societies, not only of their own kind, but
in company with Herons, either on trees or, in reed-beds,
making large nests in which are commonly laid four eggs,
— white, speckled, streaked, or blotched, but never very
closely, with light red. Such breeding-stations have been
several times desciibed, and among the more recent
accounts of one of them are those of Messrs Sclater and
yf. A. Forbes {Ibis, 1877, p. 412), and Mr Seebohm
{Zoologist, 1880, p. 457), while a view of another has
been attempted by Schlegel {Vog. Nederland, taf. xvij.).
The latest systematic revision of the group is by, Dr
Eeichenow {Journ. fiir Omithologie, 1877, pp. 166-159),
but his views have not been wholly accepted in the
present article. (a. n.)
° Ornithologists have been in doubt as to the recognition of two
species from Japan described by Temminck and Schlegel under the
names of P. major and P. minor. Lately it has been suggested that
the former is only the young of P. leucorodia. and the latter the young
of the Australian P. regia.
S P O — S P o
431
SPORADES, the islands "scattered" (as the name,
from (Tjrupav, " to sow," imports) about the Greek Arclii-
pelago,are distinguished on the one hand from the Cyclades,
which are grouped around Delos, and on the other from
the islands attached, as it were, to the mainland of Europe
and Asia. The distinction is not in either case a verj'
definite one, and hence both ancient and modern writers
differ as to the list of the Sporades. Details of classifi-
cation are given by Bursian (GHechenland, ii. 348 sq.).
The Doric Sporades — Melus (Mixes), ^ Pholegandrus,
Sicinus, Theea, Anaphe, Astypakea, and Cos — were by
some considered a southern cluster of the Cyclades. In
modern times the name Sporades is more especially
applied to two groups — the Northern Sporades, which lie
north-east of Negropont (Euboea), along with which they
constitute a nomarchy of the kingdom of Greece ; and the
Southern Sporades, lying off the south-west of Asia Minor,
and included in the Turkish vilayet of the "Islands of
the White Sea." The Northern, which have altogether
an area of 180 square miles and a population of 13,394
(1879), comprise Skiatho, Khiliodromi or Ikos, Skopelo,
Pelagonisi, Giura, Pipari, and Skiro (Scyeos), vrith their
adjacencies. The Southern are as follows: — Icaria,
Pathos, Leros, Calymno, Astypalsea (Stampalia), Cos
(Stanko), Nisyros, Tilos or Episcopi, Sime, Khalki,
Rhodes, Crete, and a multitude of lesser isles.
SPORTS, The Book of, or more properly the Decxaea-
TioN or Sports, was issued by James I. in 1617 on the
recommendation of Thomas Merlon, bishop of Chester,
for use in Lancashire, where the king on his return from
Scotland found a conflict on the subject of Sunday amuse-
ments between the Puritans and the gentry, many of whom
were Roman Catholics. Permission was given for dancing,
archery, leaping, vaulting, and other harmless recreations,
and of " having of May games, Whitsun ales, and morris
dances, and the setting up of May-poles and other sports
therewith used, so as the same may be had in due and con-
yenient time without impediment or neglect of divine
service, .and that women shall have leave to carry rushes
to church for the decorating of it." On the other hand,
"bear and bull baiting, interludes, and (at all times in
the meane sort of people by law prohibited) bowling"
were not to be permitted on Sunday (Wilkins, Concilia,
iv. 483). In 1618 James transmitted orders to the clergy
of the whole of England to read the declaration from the
pulpit ; but so strong was the opposition that ho prudently
withdrew his command (Wilson, in Kennet, ii. 709; Fuller,
Church Uisfory, v. 452). In 1633 Charles I. not only
directed the republication of his father's declaration (Rush-
worth, ii. 193) but insisted upon the reading of it hy the
clergy. Many of the clergy were punished for refusing to
obey the injunction. With the fall of Laud all attempt to
enforce it necessarily came to an end.
SPOTSWOOD, or Spotiswood, John (1565-1639),
archbishop of St Andrews, was the son of John Spotswood,
minister of Calder and " superintendent " of Lothian, and
■was born in 1565. He was educated at Glasgow, and suc-
ceeded his father in the parish of Calder when but eighteen
years of age. In 1601 he attended Ludowick, duke of
Lennox, as his chaplain, in an embassy to the court of
France, and returned in the duke's retinue through Eng-
land. In 1603 ho was nominated by the king to the see
of Glasgow, but his consecration (in London) did not take
place until October 1610. In 1615 he was translated as
successor of Gladstanes to St Andrews, and thus became
primate and metropolitan of Scotland. In this capacity he
presided in several assemblies of the Church of Scotland.
' The namo3 of those Sporades which aro t.catod under separate
geadings axe printed in snudi capitala
At that of Perth, in 1618, over which he presided, he
used his influence to obtain a reluctant assent to the Five
Articles. He continued in high esteem with James VL
and Charles I., who was crowned by him in 1633 at
Holyrood. In 1635 Spotswood was advanced to the chan-
cellorship, but the increasing strength of the Covenanters
compelled his resignation in 1638. He was deposed and
excommunicated by the Glasgow assembly in that year ;
charges affecting his moral character were brought against
him, but no attempt was made to substantiate these. He
died in London on 26th December 1639 and was buried
in Westminster Abbey.
La 1620 ho published RefaUtiio Libdli do JUgimine EccUsm
Scoticanx — an answer to a tract of Calderwood, who replied in the
Vmdicim subjoined to his Allan Damascenum. The only other
\TritinB of Spotswood published during his lifetime was the sermon
ho preached at the Perth assembly. His most considerable work
appeared posthumously — The Eistory of the ChurcJi and State of
Si-MIand, beginning the year of our Lord SOS and continued to the
end of the reipi of James VI. of ever blessed memory, London, 1655,
fol. It displays considerable research and sagacity, and even when
dealing with contemporaiy events gives a favourable impression,
upon the whole, of the author's candour and truth. An appendix
was afterwards added by Thomas Middleton.
Spotswood left two sous, — Sir John Spotswoode of Dairsie in
Fife, where the arclibishop erected a church and bridge, which are
still extant, and Sir Robert, a lawyer of great learning, who became
president of the Court of Session, and was executed in 1640 for
taking part in the expedition of Montrose.
SPOTTISWOODE, William (1825-1883), mathe-
matician and physicist, was born in London, 11th January
1825. His father, Ajidrew Spottiswoode, who was de-
scended from an ancient Scottish family, represented
Colchester in parliament for some years, and in 1831
became junior partner in the firm of Ejre <fe Spottiswoode,
printers. William was educated at Laleham, Eton, Harrow,
and BaUiol College, Oxford. His bent for science showed
itself while he was still a schoolboy, and indeed his re-
moval from Eton to Harrow is said to have been occasioned
by an accidental explosion which occurred whilst he was
performing an experiment for his own amusement. At
Harrow he obtained in 1842 a Lyon scholarship, and- at
Oxford in 1845 a first-class in mathematics, in 1846 the
junior and in 1847 the senior university mathematical
scholarship. In 1846 Spottiswoode left Oxford to take
his father's place in the business, in which he was engaged
until his death. In 1847 he issued five pamphlets entitled
Meditationes Analyticx. This was his first publication of
original mathematical work ; and from this time scarcely
a year passed in which he did not give to the world further
mathematical researches. In 1856 Spottiswoode travelled
in eastern Russia, and in 1860 in Croatia and Hungary;
of the former expedition he has left an interesting record
entitled A Tarantasse Journey through Eastern Russia in
the Autumn of 1866 (London, 1857). In 1870 he was
elected president of the London Mathematical Society.
In 1871 he began to turn his attention to experimental
physics, his earlier researches bearing upon the polarization
of light and his later work upon the electrical discharge
in rarefied gases. Ho -wrote a popular treatise upon the
former subject for the "Nature" series (1874). In 1878
he was elected president of the British Association, and in-
the same j'car president of the Royal Society, of which he
had been a fello>'.' since 1853. Ho died of fever on 27th
June 1883, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.
As a mathematician he oc^picd himself with many brandies
of his favourite science, more especially wil i higher algebra, in-
cluding tho theory of determinants, with tlie general calculus of
Bj-mbols, and with tho application of analysis to geometry and
mechanics. Tbe foUomng, brief review of his mathematical work
is quoted from the obituary notice which apneared in tho Proceed-
intjs of the Royal Soeiely {vol. xxxviiL p. 31):— "Tho intcrcstinfj
scries of communications on tho contact of curves and surfaces
which ore coatained in tho PhilosojJiical Transactions of 1862 and
432
« F K — 8 P R
subsequent years wonld alone account for the higli rank he obtained
as a mathematician. ... The mastery which he had obtained over
tne mathematical symbols was so complete that he never shrank
from the use of expressions, however complicated— nay, the more
■ complicated they were the more he seemed to revel in them— pro-
vided they did not sin against the ruling spirit of all his work —
symmetry. To a miud imbued with the love of mathematical
symmetry the study of determinants had natui-ally every attraction
In 1851 ilr Spottiswoode pubUshed in the form of a pamphlet an
account of some elementary theorems on the subject. This havinc
fallen out of print, permission was sought by the editor of CrcUe
to reproduce it in the pages of that journal. Mr Spottiswoode
granted the request and undertook to revise his work. The sub-
ject had, however, been so extensively developed in the interim
that it proved necessary not merely to revise it but entirely to re-
Y'te the wofk, which became a memoir of 116 pages. To this
the first elementary treatise on determinants, much of the rapid
development of the subject is due. The effect of the study on
5Ir Spottiswoode's own methods was most pronounced ; there is
scarcely a page of his mathemaHcal writings that does not bristle
%vith determinants." The Eoyal Society's Catalogue of Scientifio
Fapers (vols. L-viu.) shows a list of 49 papers by Spottiswoode to
which must be added about 66 more, the titles of which have not
yet been printed m that catalogue. These were published princi-
pally m the PhilssopUcal Transactions, Proceedings of the Eoyal
society. Quarterly Journal of Mathematics, Proceedings of the London
Mathematical Socielij, and Crelle, and one or two in the Compies
E^ndi^ of the Paris Academy. Another list of his papers, arranged
eL::ording to the several journals in which thev originally appeared
".ith short notes upon the less familiar memoirs, is given in Nature',
"ol, xxvu. p. 599.
SPEAlISr. See Sitegert, p. 682, infra.
SPEAT, a marine fish {Clupea spraitus), named "garvie"
in Scotland, one of the smallest species of the genus
Clupea or herrings, rarely exceeds 5 inches in length, and
occurs in large shoals on the Atlantic coasts of Europe.
It is found also in the southern hemisphere, on the coasts
of Tasmania and New Zealand, where, however, it seems to
be less abundant, since its presence at the antipodes has
been discovered only recently, and it does not seem to be
the object of a regular fishery. Sprats are very often con-
founded with young herrings, which they much resemble,
but can always be distinguished by the f oUowing characters :
they do not possess any teeth on the palate (vomer), like
herrings ; their gill-covers are smooth, without the radiat-
mg striae which are found in the shad and the pilchard ; the
anal fin consists of from seventeen to twenty rays, and the
lateral line of forty-seven or forty-eight scales. The ven-
tral fins are even with the origin of the dorsal fin ; and the
spme consists of from forty-seven to forty-nine vertebrse.
The sprat is one of the more important food- fishes on
account of the immense numbers which are caught when
the shoals approach the coasts. They are somewhat capri-
cious, however, as regards the place and time of their
appearance, the latter falling chiefly in the first half of
winter. They are caught with the sein or with the ba<r-
aet m the tideway. Large quantities are consumed fresh
but many are pickled or smoked, and others prepared like
anchovies. Frequently the captures are so large that the
tish can be used as manure only.
SPEEMBERG, a small town of Prussia, in the province
of Brandenburg, is situated about 75 miles to the south-
east of Berhn, partly on an island in the river Spree and
partly on the west bank. It carries on considerable manu-
factures of woollen cloth, and has greatly advanced in
importance and population since the beginnina; of the
I9th century In 1885 its population numbered 11,011
The only building ,f note is the chateau, built by a son of
qpp™T.?'°^ ■' '■^f^} ^}'^ ^""^ °^ ^^^ 16th century.
SPRi^NGEL KriRT (1766-1833), German botanist Ld
physician, was born on 3d August 1766 at Boldekow in
Pomerama Hzs father, a clergyman, provided him with
a thorough education of wide scope; and the boy at an
early age distmguished himself as a Unguist, not only in
Latin and Greek, but also in Arabic. He appeared d an
author at the age of fourteen, publishing a smaU work
? fl:;^f^"''""^ '"'■ ^"MntT: fur Frauenzimmer in 1780
in iihi he commenced in the university of Halle to study
theology and medicine, -but soon relinquished the former
He graduated m medicine in 1787. In 1789 he was apl
pointed an extraordinary professor of medicine in his alma
mater, and in 1795 was promoted to an ordinary profes-
sorship. He devoted much of his time to medical work
and to investigations into the history of medicine; and he
published several very valuable works in this department
of knowledge, and made himself well known as one of the
ablest medical men in Germany. He held a foremost rank
in Qiedicine and m botany as an original investigator, and
m both pubUshed works of great value, besides numer-
ous articles in scientific journals and in the proceedings
of learned societies. His accomplishments as a linguist
probably, m part c <; least, determined him in the choice of
the department to which he most fully devoted himself
and m which he stood facile princeps. Among Ihe m^re
important of his many services to the science of botany
was the part he took in awakening and stimulating micio-
scopic investigation into the anatomy of the tissues of tlie
higher plants, though defective microscopic appliances
rendered the conclusions arrived at by himself unreliable
He also made many improvements- in the details of both
the Linnaean and the "natural" systems of classification
His life passed quietly at Halle in the pursuit of the
studies dear to him, and in the enjoyment of the honours
bestowed upon him by over seventy learned societies, and
also by monarchs. In 1828 the death of a son, professor
of surgery at Greifswald, was felt by him very severely
He experienced several apoplectic seizures, and died io
one on 15th March 1833.
Subjomed is a bst of the more important of his works :-Pa7ra,B
zur Gcschichte d. Pulses, 1787; Galens Fieberlehre, 1783: Apohit
des ffippokrates,mO; Versuch einer pragmatischeh Gcschichte rfjf
Arzntikiinde, 1,92-99; ffandbuch der Pathologic, 1795.97- /^
stitutiones Medico, ISOd-U (in 6 vols.); Gcschichte der Mcdicin,
completed in ISiO; Antiquitatum, lotanicarum specimen, 1798,
r T 7LJ'7^'"'.^' ^^°'-^' ^"?«««"? zur Kenntniss dei
Gcu-aehse, 1802-4, and again 1S17-18 ; Gcschichte der Botanik, 1817-
18;^ on dcmPau vnd der Katur der Geu-achse, 1812; i^ora
^o^J\s\l f' ^"f^fi^^'-y ^""'' ^^nlclliferarur^ ^iZ
UuJk in 1 r1!'» J f i ^" "*"'°? °^ Linna^us's Syuema vcg^a-
oilium in 1824 and of the Genera plantantm in 1830. His si ort
IT.^'^flt '°° 'i^e^Uf to be quoted ; a list of those in botany.
jTcSr^ji:- ^ "^^ '°'^^ - ^-^^ K°^^l Socic<7-3 Catalog
SPRINGBOK.- See Antelope, vol. ii p 101
SPRINGFIELD, a city of the United States, capita! of
Ilhnois and the county seat of Sangamon county, 185 mUes
south-west of Chicago and 95 north-east of St Louis
at the mtersection of the main Unes of the Chicago and
Alton and the Wabash, St Louis, and Pacific EaSwava
It IS situated m 39° 48' N. lat. and 89° 33' W. lon<r on a
plateau 4 miles south of the Sangamon river. The State
capitol (1868-1886) is constructed of Joliet marble in tha
torm of a Greek cross, with porticos of granite ; it is 38.->
feet long and 296 wide, and has a central dome surmounted
by a lantern with a baU on the pinnacle (360 feet) It
contains a general library, a law library, geological and
agricultural museums, and a memorial haU of the C-'vil
War, as well as the usual Government ofiSces Other
buildings of note are the United States executive mansion,
custom-house and post-office (1866-68), and the house
tormerly occupied by Lincohi. In Oak Eidge cemetery,
adjacent to the city, is the Lincohi monument (1874)
beneath which that president was buried. The monument
designed by Larkin G. Mead, consists of a granite obeusk,
reaching a height of 98 J feet from the centre of a spacious
basement (119| feet long and 72-J wide), which contains a
catacomb and a memorial ha'l,— the latter a museum ol
Xincolniana. A bronze statue of Lincoln and four gronpi
S P R— S Q U
433
of figures in bronze, symbolizing the army and navy of the
United States, are arranged round the foot of the obelisk.
The town has a public library, two hospitals, two orphan-
ages, and various other charitable institutions. Extensive
deposits of bituminous coal occur in and near Springfield,
which is the seat of extensive iron-rolling mills, watch
factories, railway machine shops, plough works, and wool-
len, paper, and flour miUs. It is also the headquarters of
six of the principal live-stock associations of the country.
The population was 4533 in 1850, 9820 in 1860, 17,36-t
in 1870, 19,743 (1328 coloured) in 1880, and in 1887 it
was estimated at 25,000.
Laid out in 1822, Springfield was selected as State capital in 1837,
and was made a city in 1840.
SPRINGFIELD, a city of the United States, the county
seat of Hampden county-, Massachusetts, on the east bank
of Connecticut river, opposite West Springfield, with
which it is connected by road and railway bridges. By
rail it is 98 miles west by south of Boston on the route to
Albany, and it forms a very important railway junction.
The western part of Springfield is built on low and level
ground, the eastern tin the ascent from the river valley.
The streets are wide and well shaded with elm and maple.
A United States arsenal (founded 1777) and armoury
(1794), employing some '460 hands, is the, largest in the
republic. The Springfield breech-loading rifle of 45 calibre
has been the regulation pattern in the United States army
since 1873. A pistol factory, car-works, manufactories of
cotton and silk goods, buttons, needles, envelopes, paper,
watches, skates, and brass-work may be mentioned among
the industrial establishments. The city hall (1855), a
Romanesque building with an audience-room capable of
holding 2700 persons; the city free library (1871), a
Gothic building of brick, which contains 56,000 volumes
and a museum ; the granite court-house ; the Roman
Catholic cathedral of St Michael ; Christ Church, Epis-
copal ; the Church of the Unity, a fine Gothic structure
in brown stone ; the South Congregational church ; the
office of the Boston and Albany Railroad, a massive granite
block; and the high school are among the chief architectural
features of the city. Races are held in Hampden Park
by the riverside. The population was 15,199 in 1860,
26,703 in 1870, 33,340 in 1880 (775 coloured), and
37,577 in 1885.
Springfield was settled in 1636 by William Pynchon and emi-
grants from Roxbury, — the determination of the founder being to
limit the " town " to forty or at most fifty families. The name
was at first Agawara ; but the present designation was adopted in
1611 in memory of Springfield (Essex), Pynchon's residence in
his native country, England, to which ho was obliged to return in
1652 to escape the clcncal persecution called forth by his book on
the Meritorious Price of Christ's Sedemptum. The town was burned
by the. Indians in 1675 ; and in 1787 the arsenal was attacked by
Shays's rebels. The opening of the Boston and Albany Railroad
in 1839 was the beginning of ra])id development, and the town was
made a city in 1852. The manufacture of firearms carried on hero
daring the Civil War, 1861-65, gave fhe city a great impulse.
SPRINGFIELD, a city of the United States, county
seat of Greene county, Missouri, occupies a pleasant and
healthy site on the Ozark Hills, 238 miles by rail south-
west of St Louis by the St Louis and San Francisco Rail-
road, which here joins with the Kansas City, Fort Scott, and
Gulf Railroad. Springfield is the chief commercial centre
of south-west Missouri, one of the groat lead and zinc
mining districts of the States. It contains a number of
factories (cotton, wool, waggons, furniture, tobacco, &c.),
and is the seat of a court-house and of Drury College (1873),
which provides scientific and c!a.ssical training and has a
musical conservatory attached. The population was 5555 in
1870, 6522 in 1880, and in 1886 was estimated at 18,000.
Originally an Indian tradinR post and frontier village, Springfield
was incorporated in 1830 and began to bo a prosperous place at the
close of the Civil War, durin" winch it had several times changed
hands and been the scene of Hostilities.
22-17
SPRINGFIELD, a city of the United States, county
seat of Clarke county, Ohio, lies at the confluence of Mad
river and Lagonda Creek (sub-tributaries of the Ohio
through the Miami), 84 miles north-east of Cincinnati
It has a large trade in the agricultural produce of the fertile
and populous district in which it is pleasantly situated,
and is the seat of a very large manufactory of agricultural
machinery, which turns out 75,000 reapers and mowers
per annum, besides grain-drills, steam-engines, cider-mills,
and a great variety of articles. In 1870 the population of
the city was 12,652, in 1880 20,730 (to^vnship, 24,455),
ajid 33,484 in 1886. Among the public institutions are
Wittenberg College (Lutheran), founded in 1845, and a
small public library.
SPRINGS. See Geologt, vol. s. pp. 223, 269 sq.,
and Mineral Waters.
SPRUCE. See Fie, vol. ix. p. 222.
SPURZHEIM, Kaspar, phrenologist, was bom at
Longwich near Treves on 31st December 1776, and died
at Boston, United States, on 10th November 1832. Sea
Phrenology.
SQUARING (or QtJADRATUEE) OF THE CIRCLE ts
the' problem of finding a square equal in area to a given
circle. Like all problems, it may be increased in difficulty
by the imposition of restrictions ; consequently under the
designation there may be embraced quite a variety of
geometrical problems. It has to be noted, however, that,
when the " squaring " of the circle is especially spoken of,
it is almost always tacitly assumed that the restrictions
are those of the Euclidean geometry.
Since the area of a circle equals that of the rectilineal
triangle whose base has the same length as the circum-
ference and whose altitude equals the radius (Archimedes,
Ki'kXov fieTprja-is, prop, 1), it follows that, if a straight
line could be drawn equal in length to the circumference,
the required square could be found by an ordinary Euclid-
ean construction ; also, it is evident that, conversely, if a
square equal in area to the circle could be obtained, it
would be possible to draw a straight line equal to the
circumference. Rectification and quadrature of the circle
have thus been, since the time of Archimedes at least,
practically identical problems. Again, since the circum-
ferences o^ circles are proportional to their diameters — a
proposition assumed to be true from the dawn almost of
practical geometry — the rectification of the circle is seen
to be transformable into finding the ratio of the cir-
cumference to the diameter. This correlative numerical
problem and the two purely geometrical problems are
inseparably connected historically.
Probably the earliest value for the ratio was 3. It was
so among the Jews (1 Kings ^'ii. 23, 26), the Babylonians
(Oppert, Journ. Asiatique, August 1872, October 1874),
the Chinese (Biot, Journ. Asiatique, June 1841), and
probably also the Greeks. Among the ancient Egyptians,
as would appear from a calculation in the Rhind papyrus,
the nimiber {^)*, i.e., 3-16..., was at one time in use.*
The first attempts to solve the purely geometrical problem
appear to have been made by the Greeks (Anasagoras,
kc.),^ one of whom, Hippocrates,^ doubtless raised hopes
of a solution by his quadrature of the so-called meniscoi.
As for Euclid, it is sufficient to recall the facts that the
original author of prop. 8 of book iv. had strict proof of
the ratio being <4, and the author of prop. 15 of the
ratio being > 3, and to direct attention to the importance
' Eisonlohr, Bin math. Handbuch d. alien Aegypter, ilberi. u.
erUart, Lcipaio, 1877 ; Rodet, Bull, do la Soc. Math, do France, t1.
pp. 13»-119.
» Uankol, Zur Oesch. d. Math, im Altcrthiim, kc, chap, v., Leipslc,
1874 ; Cantor, Vorlestingen Vier Oesch. il. Math., I., Lclpsic, 1880 ;
Tanner)-, Mim. de la Soc, tec, d Bordeaux ; AUman, in Ilertnathma,
=> Tannery, Bull, dea Sc. Math., [2], x. pp. 213-226.
434
SQUARING THE CIUCL
E
jf book r. on incommensurables and props. 2 and 16 of
book xii., viz., that "circles are to one another as tho
squares on their diameters" and that "in the greater
3f two concentric circles a regular 2n-gon can be inscribed
which shall not meet the circumference of the less," how-
ever nearly equal the circles may be. With Archimedes
(287-212 B.C.) a notable advance was made. Taking
the circumference .as intermediate between the perimeters
of the inscribed and the circumscribed regular «-gons, he
showed that, the radius of. the circle being given and the
perimeter of some particular circumscribed regular polygon
obtainable, the perimeter of the circumscribed regular
polygon of double the number of sides could be calculated;
that the like was true of the inscribed polygons; and that
consequently a means was thus afforded of approximating
to the circumference of the circle. As a matter of fact,
he started with a semi-side AB of a circumscribed regular
hexagon meeting the circle in B (see fig. 1), joined A
and B with O the centre, bisected the ^AOB by OD, so
that BD became the semi-side of a circumscribed regular
12-gon ; then as AB : BO : OA : : 1 : VS : 2 he sought an
approximation to VSand found that AB:BO>153 : 265.
Next he applied his theorem'' BO -f OA : AB : : OB : BD
to calculate BD ; from this in turn he cal-
culated the semi-sides of the circumscribed
regular 24-gon, 48-gon, and 96-gon, and "
BO finally established for the circumscribed b o
regular 96-gon that perimeter : diameter Fig 1.
_< 3y : 1. In a quite analogous manner he proved for the
inscribed regular 96-gon that perimeter : diameter > 34| : 1.
The conclusion from these therefore was that the ratio of cir-
cumference to diameter is < 3-f and > 3 J-?. This is a most
notable piece of work; the immature 'condition of arith-
metic at the time was the only real obstacle preventing the
evaluation of the ratio to any degree of accuracy whatever.^
No advance of any importance was made upon the
achievement of Archimedes until after the revival of learn-
ing. His immediate successors may have used his method
to attain a greater degree of accuracy, but there is very
little evidence pointing in this direction. Ptolemy (fl. 127-
151), in the Great Syntaxis, gives 3-141552 as the ratio^;
and the Hindus (c. 500 a.d.), who were very probably
indebted to the Greeks, used 62832/20000, that is, the now
familiar 3-U16.* It was not until the 15th century that
attention in Europe began to be once more directed to the
subject, and after the resuscitation a considerable length of
time elapsed before any progress was made. The first
advance in accuracy was due to a certain Adrian, son of
Anthony, a native of Metz (1527), and father of the better-
known Adrian Metius of Alkmaar. In refutation of
Duchesne (Van der Eycke) he showed that the ratio was
< 3 j-j^ and > Z^^, and thence made the exceedingly lucky
Btep of taking a mean between the two by the quite unjusti-
fiable process of halving the sum of the two numerators for
a new numerator and halving the sum of the two denomi-
nators for a new denominator, thus arriving at the now
well-known approximation Z^ or ^, which, being equal
to 3-1415929..., is correct to the sixth fractional place.^
The next to advance the calculation was Vifete (De Viette,
Vieta), the greatest mathematician of his age. By finding
the perimeter of the inscribed and that of the circumscribed
regular polygon of 393216 {i.e., 6 x 2'6) sides, he proved
' In modem trigonometrical notation, 1 -t-sec 9 : tan S : : 1 : tan ^B.
Tannery, " Sur la mesurs du cercle d'Archim Jde, " in Mhn. . .'
Bordeaux, [2], iv. pp. 813-339 ; Menge, Des Archimedes Kreitmessung,
Coblentz, 1874.
' De Morgan, in Penny Cyclop., xix. p. 186.
* Kern, Aryahluimyam, Leyden, 1874, trans. >iy Rodet, Paris, 1879.
_^ De Morgan, art. "Quadrature of the Circle," in English Cyclop. '•
ilaisher, Mess, of Math., ii. pp. 119-128, iii. "pp. 27-46 ; De Haan
Ifieuw Archief V. Wish., i. pp. 70-86, 206-211,
that theratio was >3-1415926535 and <3-14l5926537
so that its value became known (in 1579) correctly to 10
fractional places. The theorem for angle-bisection which
Viete used was not that of Archimedes, but that which
would now appear in the form 1 - cos 6^ = 2 sin^ i,e. With
Vifete, by reason of the advance in arithmetic," the style
of treatment becomes more strictly trigonometrical; in-
deed, the Universales Inspectiones, in which the calculation
occurs, would now be called plane and spherical trigone-
metry, and the accompanying Canon Mathematicus, a table
of smes, tangents, and secants.6 Further, in comparing
the labours of Archimedes and Vifete, the effect of increased
power of symbolical expression is very noticeable. Archi-
medes's process of unending cycles of arithmetical opera-
tions could at best have been expressed in his time by a
"rule" in words; in the 16th century it could be condensed
mto a " formula." Accordingly, we find in Viete a formula
for the ratio of diameter to circumference, viz., the internii-
nate product '. —
iV4-vi + *Vi.v4 + iN/i + 4\/l...
From this point onwards, therefore, no knowledge what-
ever of geometry was necessary in any one who aspired to
determine the ratio to any required" degree of accuracy;
the mere arithmetician's art and length of days were the
only requisites. Thus in connexion with the subject a
genus of workers became possible who may be styled
"jr-computers," — a name which, if it connotes anything
uncomplimentary, does so because of the almost entirely
fruitless cha.iucter of their labours. Passing over Adriaan
van Roomen (Adrianus Eomanus) of Louvain, who pub-
lished the value of the ratio correct to 15 places in his
Idea Mathemafica (1593),^ yf6 come to the notable com-
puter Ludolph van Ceulen (d. 1610), a native of Germany,
long resident in Holland. His book, Van den Circkel
(Delf, 1596), gave the "ratio correct to 20 places, but he
continued his calculations as long as he lived, and his best
result was published on his tombstone in St Peter's church;
Leyden. The inscription, which is not known to be now
in existence,^ is in part as follows : —
. . . Qui in vita sua multo labore circumferentiaa circuli orozi-
mam rationem ad diametrum invenit sequentem —
•juando. diameter est 1
turn circuli circumferentia plus est
ouam^^^^^^"^^^589"^3238462643.'?83279B0238
^ 100000000000000000000000000000000000
et minus
anam ^^''^^^265358979323846264338327950289
^ lOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO . . .
This gives the ratio correct to 35 places. ■ Van Ceulen'a
process was essentially identical with that of Vi^te. Its
numerous root extractions amply justify a stronger expres-
sion than " multo labore," especially in an epitaph. In
Germany the " Ludolphische Zahl" is still a common
name for the ratio.^"
Up to this pomt the credit of most that had been dona
may be set down to Archi- —
medes. A new departure, e
however, was made by P
Willebrord Snell of Ley-
den in his Cydomelria, >
published in 1621. Hia Fig. 2.
achievement was a closely approximate geometrical solu-
« Vieta, Opera Math., Leyden, 1646; Marie, Bist. des Scie-nces Math.
iii. p. 27 sq., Paris, 1884. .
' Klugel, Math. Wiirterb., ii. pp. 606, 607.
8 Kastner, Oesch. d. Math., i., Gottingen, 1796-1800.
" But see Les DHices de Lade, Leyden, 1712 ; or De Haan, Mees.
of Math., iii. pp. 2i-26.
" For minute and lengthy details regarding the quadratnre of the
cirtle in the Low Countries, see De Haan, " Bouwstoffen voor de geschia.
denis, &c.," in Versl. en Mededeel. der K. Akad. van Welen.sch.,ix., x.-,
xi., xii., Amsterdam ; also his " Notice sur quelijnes quadrateurs, Sx\,"
in Bull, di Biblio^. e di Storia delle Sci. Mat. e Fis., vii. pp. 99-144
SQUAKING THE CIRCLE
435
tion of the problem of rectification (see fig. 2). ACB
being a semicircle whose centre is O, and AC the arc to
bo rectified, he produced AB to D, making BD equal to
tho radius, joined DC, and produced it to meet the tangent
at A in E; and then his assertion (not established by him)
was that AE was nearly equal to the arc AC, the error
being' in defect. For the purposes of the calculator a
solution erring in excess was also required, and this
Snell gave by slightly varying the former construction.
Instead of producing AB
(see fi^. 3) so that BD eJ
■was equal to r, he pro-
duced it only so far that,
when the extremity D' was * o g o'
joined with C, the part of F'S- 3.
D'C outside the circle was equal to r ; in other words, by
a non-Euclidean construction he trisected the angle . AOC,
for it is readily seen that, since FD' = FO = OC, the angle
FOB = JAOC.i This couplet of constructions is as im-
portant from the calculator's point of view as it is interest-
ing geometrically. To compare it on this
score with the fundamental proposition of
Archimedes, the latter must be put into
a form similar to Snell's. AJMC being an
arc of a circle (see fig. 4) whose centre is
O, AC its chord, and HK the tangent
drawn at the middle point of the arc and
bounded by OA, OC produced, then, according to Archi-
medes, AMC<HK but >.AC. In modern trigonometrical
notation the propositions to be compared stand as follows : —
2tani«>0>2sinJ9 (Archimedes);
tan 49 -^ 2 sin J9 > e > -5^^^ (SneU).
2 -I- cose
It is readily shown that, the latter gives the best approxi-
mation to d ; but, while the former requires for its applica-
tion a knowledge of the trigonometrical ratios of only one
angle (in other words, the ratios of the sides of only one
right-angled triangle), the latter requires the same for two
angles, 6 and ^6. Grienberger, using Snell's metTiod, cal-
culated the ratio correct to 39 fractional places." Huy-
gens, in his De Ciradi Magnitudine Inverita, 1654, proved
the propositions of Snell, giving at the same time a number
of other interesting theorems, for example, two inequalities
which may be written as follows ' —
"^^^'^ 2chAe + z7m6 i(°hd g - Bin g) > g > chd g + Kchd g - sin g).
AS might be expected, a fresh view of the matter was
taken by Descartes. The problem he set himself ■vtas the
exact converse of that of Archimedes. A given straight
line being viewed as equal in
length to the circumference of a
circle, he sought to find the dia-
meter of the circle; His con
struction is as follows (see fig. 5).
Take AB equal to one-fourth of
the given line ; on AB describe a
square ABCD ; join AC; in AC
produced find, by a known process,
a point C, such that, when C,Bj
ifi drawn perpendicular to AB pro-
duced and CjOj perpendicular to BC produced, the rect-
angle BC, will be equal to J ABCD ; by the same process
find a point Cj siich that the rectangle BjCj will be equal to
^Cj^; and so on ad infinitum. The diameter sought is tho
* It is thus manifest that by his first constructicn Snell gave aa
approximate sointion of two great problems of antiquity.
' Elemcnla Trigonometrica, Rome, 1030 ; Glaishor, Messenger of
Math., iii. p. 3S sq.
' See Kirssling's cilltlon of the De Circ Magn. Inv. , Flonsbnrg, 1869 ;
or Pirio's tract on Qeometrical Methods of Approx. U> the Value of ir,
London, 1877.
Fig. 6.
straight line from A to tho limiting position of the series
of B's, say the straight line ABoo. As in the case of
the process of Archimedes; we may direct our attention
either to the infinite series of geometrical operations or
to the corresponding infinite series of arithmetical opera-
tions. Denoting the number of ^inits in AB by \c., we
can express BB,, BjBj, ... in terms- of \c, and the identity
ABoo = AB -f BBj -(- BjBj -(-... gives us at once an expres-
sion for the diameter in terms of the circumference by
means of an infinite series.* The proof of the correctness
of the construction is seen to be involved in the following
theorem, which serves likewise to throw new light on the
subject :— AB being any straight Line whatever, and the
above construction being made, then AB is the diameter
of the circle circumscribed by the square ABCD (self-evi-
dent), AEj is the diameter of the circle circumscribed by
the regular 8-gon having the same perimeter as the square,
AB„ is the diameter of the circle circumscribed by the
regular 16-gon having the same perimeter as the square,
and so on. Essentially, therefore, Descartes's process is
■that known later as the process of i&operimeters. and often
attributed wholly to Schwab.*
In 1655 appeared the Arilhmetica Infinitorum of Walils,
where numerous problems of quadrature are dealt with,
the curves being now represented in Cartesian coordinates,
and algebra playing an important part. In a very curious
manner, by viewing the circle y = (l -a;-) i as a member
of the series of curves y = {\ -^")', y = {\ —x^)', <tc., he
was led to the proposition that four times the reciprocal of
the ratio of the circumference to the diameter is equal to
3.3.5.5.7.7.9...
2.4.4. 6.8.8.8...'
and the result having been communicated to Lord Broun-
ker, the latter discovered the equally curious equivalent
expression i + ^^ 03
'"^2-t-l 5J
The work of Wallis had evidently an important influence
on the next notable personality in the history of tho sub-
ject, James Gregory, who lived during the period when
the higher algebraic analysis was coming into power, and
whose genius helped materially to develop it. He had,
however, in a certain sense one eye fixed on the past and
the other towards tho future. His first contribution* was
a variation of the method of Aichimedes. The latter, aa
we know, calculated the perimeters of successive polygons,
passing from one polygon to another of double the niunber
of sides; in a similar manner Gregory calculated the areas.
The general theorems which enabled him to do this, after
a start had been made, are
Ai„=\A„A'„ (Snell's Cyclom.),
where A„, A'n are the areas of the inscribed and the circum-
scribed regular «-gons respectively. He also gave approxi-
mate rectifications of circular arcs after the manner of Huy-
gens; and, what is very notable, he made an ingenious
and, according to Jlontucla, successful attempt to show that
quadrature of tho circle by a Euclidean construction waa
impossible.' Besides all this, however, and far beyond' i<
in importance, was his use of infinite series. This merit
he shares with his contemporaries Mercator, Newton, and
Leibnitz, and the exact dates of discovery are a little un-
certain. As far as thfe circle-squaring functions are con-
* See Euler, " Annotationes in Locum quendom Cortesii," in Aor
Comm. Acad. Pclrop., viii.
'• Oorgonne, Annales dt Math. , vl
* See V'em OirctUi et Hyperbolw Qiiadratura, Pailiio. 1667; and tho
Appendicvla to tho same in his F.xemtaliones Ueovteiricm, Loudou, IflOd
' Penny Ct/dop., lix. p. 187.
436
SQUARING THE CIRCLE
cemea, it would seem that Gregory was the first (in 1670)
to make known . the series for the arc in terms of the
tangent, the series for the tangent in terms of the arc,
and the secant in terms of the arc; and in 1669 Newton
showed to Barrow a little treatise in manuscript containing
the series for the arc in terms of the sine, for the sine in
terms of the arc, and for the cosine in terms of the arc.
These discoveries formed an epoch in the history of mathe-
matics generally, and had, of course, a marked influence on
after investigations regarding circle- quadrature. Even
among the mere computers the series
e=tan e-i tan^e + i tan" 6-...,
specially known as Gregory's series, has ever since been a
necessity of their calling.
The calculator's work having now become easier and
more mechanical, calculation went on apace. In 1699
Abraham Sharp, on the suggestion of Halley, took Gregory's
series, and, putting tan 0 = ^ n/S, found the ratio equal to
from which he calculated it correct to 71 fractional places.^
About the same time Machin calculated it correct to 100
places, and, what was of more importance, gave for the
ratio the rapidly converging expression,
16/. 1.1 1 . \ 4 /, 1 1
■3.5^"'"5.5*"
7.5»^
■■■)-U^
3 . 239'
ri+^
-...).
.239*
■which long remained without explanation. ^ Fautet de
Lagny, still using tan 30°, advanced to the 127th place.'
Euler took up the subject several times during -his life,
effecting mainly improvements in the theory of the various
series.* With him, apparently, began the usage of denot-
ing by TT the ratio of the circumference to the diameter.*
The most important publication, however, on the subject
In the 18th century was a paper by Lambert,^ read before
the Berlin Academy in 1761, in which he demonstrated
the irrationality of ■ir. The general test of irrationality
■which he established is that, if
b,±
be an interminate continued fraction, Oj, Oj . . ., b^, b^. ..
be integers, r^, p, ... be proper iractions, and the value of
every one of the interminate continued fractions p
a . . h±---'
~ ,... be < 1, then the given continued fraction
vo X • • •
represents an irrational quantity. If this be applied to
the right-hand side of the identity
m m
tan— = —
n re -
on-..
it follows that the tangent of every arc commensurable
with the radius is irrational, so that, as a particular case,
an arc of 45°, having its tangent rational, must be incom-
mensurable with the radius; that is .to say, -^ is an incom-
mensurable number.^ This incontestable result had no
effect, apparently, in repressing the Tr-computers. Vega
' See Sherwin's Math. Tables, Loudon, 1705, p. 59.
- See 'W. Jones, Synopsis Pulmariorum Matheseos, London, 1706 ;
Maseres, Scriptores Logarithmici, London, 1791-96, vol. iii. pp. 159 sq. ;
Button, Tracts, vol. I p. 266.
* See Hist, de I'Acad., Paris, 1719 ; 7 appears instead of 8 in the
113th place.
* Comment. Acad. Petrop., ix., xL ; Nov. Comm. Ac. Pet., ivi. ;
iV'(W)a Acta Acad. Pet., xi.
' Introd. in Analysin Infin., Lausanne, 1748, chap. vili.
* Mem. sur qwJques propriites remarquaUes des guantitia transcend-
antes, drculaires, et logarithmiques.
' See Legendre, ^K»wn(s de Giometrie, Paris, 1794, note iv.; Schlo-
inUch, Uandbuch d. algeb. Analysis^ Jena, 1851, chap. siii.
in 1789, using series like Machit's, viz., Gregory's ucries
and the identities
J = 5 tan-
J-t-2tan-'Vj(Eulcr, 1778),
j= Un-'} + 2tan-4 (Button, 1776),
neither of which was nearly so advantageous as several
found by Hutton, calculated tt correct to 136 places.'
This achievement was anticipated or outdone by an un-
known calculator, whose manuscript ■was seen in the Ead-
cllffe Library, Oxford, by Baron von Zach towards the end
of the century, and contained the ratio correct to 152
places. More astonishing still have been the deeds of the
TT-computers of the 19th century. A condensed record
compiled by Mr Glaisher (Messenaer of Math., ii. p. 122)
is as follows : —
No. or
No. of
Date.
Computer.
fr.digitsfr.digits
Place or Publication
calcd.
correct.
1842
Rutherford
208
152
Trans. Roy. Soc, Loud., 1841, n
283.
1844
Dase
205
200
CfeUe's Joum., xxvil j). 198.
1847
Clausen ...
250
248
Astron. Nachr., xxv. col. 207.
1853
Shanks ...
318
318
Proc.Roy. Soc, Lond.,i853, p. 278.
1853
Rutherford
440
440
Ibid.
1853
Sh^ks ...
530
Ibid.
1853
Shanks ...
607
W. Shanks, Rcctijtcation of the
Circle, London, 1853.
1853
Richter ...
S33
330
GruncrCs Archiv, Xii. p. 119.
1854
Richter ...
400
330
Ibid., xxii. p. 473.
1854
Richter ...
400
400
Ibid., xxiii. p. 476.
1854
Ri.hter ...
500
500
Ibid., xxv. p. 472.
1873
Shanks ...
707
Proc. Pioy. Soc, Lond., xxL
By these computers Machin's identity, or identities ana
logons to it, e.g.,
j= tan-^s + Un-'J +tan-'J,
J = 4 tan-H - tan-i T^ -1- tan-» A.
and Gregory's series were employed.^
A mucn less ■wise class than the 7r-computers of the 19th
century are the pseudo-circle-squarers, or circle-squarers
technicaUy so called, that is to say, persons who, having
obtained by illegitimate means a Euclidean construction fdr
the quadrature or a finitely expressible value for tt, insist
on using faulty reasoning and defective mathematics to
estabU-sh their assertions. Such persons have flourished at
all times in the history of mathematics ; but the interest at-
taching to them is more psychological than mathematicaL"
It is of recent years that the most important advances
in the theory of circle-quadrature have been made. In
1873 Hermite proved that the base e of the Napierean
logarithms cannot be a root of a rational algebraical
equation of any degree.^^ To prove the same proposition
regarding tt is to prove that a Euclidean construction for
circle-quadrature is impossible. For in such a construction
every point of the figure is obtained by the intersection
of two straight lines, a straight line and a circle, or two
circles ; and, as this implies that, when a unit of length is
introduced, numbers employed, and the problem trans-
formed into one of algebraic geometry, the equations t»
be solved can only be of the first or second degree, it
follows that the equation to which we must be finally led
is a rational equation of even degree. Hermite^* did not
° Nona Acta Petrop., ix. p. 41; Thesaurus Logarithm. Computus,
p. 633.
* On the calculations made before Shanks, see Lehmann, " Beitrag
zur Berechnung der Zahl ir," in Grunert's Archiv, xxi. pp. 121-174.
'" See Montucla, Hist, des rech. sur la quad, du cerde, Paris, 1754,
2d ed. 1831 ; De Morgan, Budget of Paradoxus, London, 1872.
" " Sur la fonction exponentielle," Comptes Rendtis, Paris, UxriL
pp. 18, 74, 226, 285.
i-" See Crelle's Journal, Ixxvi. p. S'42.
S Q U — S Q U
437
lUcceed in his attempt on ir ; but in 1882 Lindemann,
following exactly in Hermite's steps, accomplished the
desired result.^ Mathematicians are agreed that the full
demonstration leaves something to be desired in the matter
of eimplicity, and attempts at simplification have already
been made by Markoff and Rouch^.^
Besides the various writings mentioned, see for the early history
of the subject, Montui-Ia, Mist, dcs Math., 6 vols., Paris, 1758,
2d ed. 1799-1802 ; Murhard, Bibliot}icca Mathematica, ii. pp. 106-
123, Leipsic, 1798 ; Reuss, Bcperloriuin Comment., vii. pp. 42-44,
Gbttingeii, 1808. For a few approximate geometrical solutions, see
Leybourn's i/afA. Repository, vi. pp. 151-154; Grunert' $ Archiv, xii.
p. 88, xlix. p. 3 ; Nimw Archie/ v. Wish., iv. pp. 200-204. For
oxperimental determinations of tt, dependent on the theory of prob-
ability, see Mess, of Math., ii. pp. 113, 119 ; tasopis pro plstovdul
math, afys., x pp. 272-275 ; Analyst, ix. p. 176. (T. MU.)
BQUASH (Cucurhila Melopepo). See Goited.
SQUILL, the name under which the bulbous root of
Vrginea niaritima, Baker, is used in medicine. The plant
was formerly placed in the genus Scilla, from which it has
been separated because the seeds are fiat and discoid iu-
Btead of triquetrous, as in the latter genus. The name of
"squill " is also applied by gardeners to the various species
of Scilla. The medicinal squill is a native of the countries
bordering the Mediterranean, and grows from the soa-level
up to an elevation of 3000 feet. The bulbs are globular
and of large size, often weighing more than 4 lb. Two
varieties are met with, the one having white and the other
pink scales. They are collected in August, when they are
leafless, the membranous outer scales being removed and
the fleshy portion cut transversely into slices and dried in
the sun. These are then packed in casks for exportation.
They are chiefly imported into the United Kingdom from
Malta. When reduced to powder and exposed to the air
the drug rapidly absorbs moisture and cakes together into
a hard mass. Squill has been used in medicine from a
very early period. The ancient Greek physicians pre-
scribed it with vinegar and honey almost in the same
manner as it is used at present. Its medicinal properties
are expectorant and diuretic. It is chiefly prescribed in
bronchitis when the phlegm is tenacious and expectorated
with diSiculty, and in cardiac dropsy. When given in large
doses it acts as an irritant poison, and its use is therefore
contra-indicated in active inflammatory conditions of the
piucous membrane or of the kidneys. The fresh bulb
rubbed on the skin causes redness and irritation, due in
part to the presence of minute crystals of oxalate of calcium.
The activity of the drug appears to be due to the active principles,
soillipicrin, scillitoxiu, and scillin, which were first obtained by
Merck in 1878. The fiist has a bitter and burning taste, jjowerfully
irritating the mucous membrane of the nose. It is soluble in
alcohol and ether and partly in alkalis, but insoluble in water ; if
mixed with sugar it dissolves readily and Can then be absorbed if
injected subcutaneously. Scillitoxin is hygroscopic, very soluble
in water, and has a bitter taste. These two principles have an
action on the heart resembling that of Diqilalis ; in large doses the
former stops its action in systole and the latter in diastole. Scillin
ia crystalline, tasteless, and soluble in alcohol, though only with
difficulty in water. It is present only in very small quantity in
equill, and appears to bo tho cause of the subsidiary effects of that
drug, <!uch as vomiting, &c.
An allied species, Urginea, indica, Baker, is used in India in tho
same manner as the Fair bean species. The true squills are repre-
sented in Great Britain by two species, Scilla autumnalis and S.
vema. The former has a racemose infiorescenco ; tbo latter has tho
flowers arranged in a corymbose manner, and is confined to tho eca-
coast. Several species aro cultivated in gardens, S. hifolia and S.
nbirica being remarkable for their beautiful blue flowers, which aro
produced in early spring. The name of Chincso squill is applied by
gardeners to Bamardia scilloidea and that of Koman equill to species
of Bellcvalia.
SQUINT. See Ophthai-molooy, vol. xvii. p. 785.
SQUIRREL. • In the article Makmot (vol. xv. p. 559)
*n account was given of the three genera forming the
' See " Ueber die Zalil ir," in Mulh. Annalcn, XX. p. 213.
-7 AotixL AniuUce. 3d ae.r., u. p. 6-
Arctomyina, or Marmot sub-family of the large family
Sciuridce, and in the present article the members of tho
other and more typical sub-family, the Sciurina, are noticed.
The systematic position of tho Sciuridie as a whole and
their relations to other rodents are shown in the article
Mammalia (vol. xv. p. 418); so it is merely with the
comijonent genera of the group that we now have to deal.
Of the Sciurina six genera aro commonly recognized,
the first being the typical one, Sd-urus, in which tlio
common English squirrel is included. Tho characters
of the genus are — form slender and agilo ; tail long and
bushy; ears generally well developed, pointed, often
tufted ; feet adapted for climbing, the anterior pair with
four toes and a rudimentary thumb, and the posterior
pair with five toes, all the toes having long, -curved,
and sharp-pointed claws; mammso from four to six in
number; skull (see fig. 1) lightly built, very similar in
Fia. 1. — Skull of Sciurus Ucolor ; natural size.
shape throughout the genus; post-orbital processes long
and curved ; incisors narrow and compressed ; premolars
either one or two above and one below ; when two are
present above, the anterior one is quite minute and very
difi'erent from the corresponding tooth in the marmots j
molars three on each side above and below.
True squirrels are found throughout the greater jjart of
the tropical and temperate regions of both hemispheres,
although they are absent both from Madagascar and the
Australian region. The species aro both largest and mast
numerous in the tropics, and reach their greatest develoi>-
ment in the Malay parts of the Oriental region.
Squirrels vary in size from animals no larger than a
mouse, such as Sciurus soricinus of Borneo, or S. minu-
ius of West Africa, to others as large as a cat, such as
the black and yellow S. bicolor of Malaysia (see fig. 1).
The very largo squirrels, as might be expected from their
heavier build, aro somewhat less strictly arboreal in their
habits than tho smaller ones, of which the common
English specifci may be looked upon as typical. The
Common Squirrel, S. vulgaris, A\"hoso general habits are
too well known to need special description, ranges over
the whole of tho Palsearctic region, from Ireland to
Japan, from Lapland to North Italy ; but specimens from
dilTcrent parts of this wide range differ so much in colour
as to have been often looked upon as diflferent species.
Thus, while tho common squirrels of north and west
Europe are of the bright red colour we aro accustomed to
see in England, those of tho mountainous regions of southern
Europe are nearly always of a d6ep blackish grey ; those
from Siberia again aro a clear pale grey colour, with
scarcely a tingo of rufous. These lant sup|ily tho squirrel
fur used for lining cloaks. Tho pairing time of the squirrel
is from February to Ai)ril, and after a period of gestation
of about thirty days it brings forth from three to nine
young. In addition to all sorts of vcgetnblcs and fruits
the squirrel is exceedingly fond of animal food, greedily
devouring mice, small birds, and eggs.
Although the English sauirrel is a most beautiful litUa
438
S H I — S R I
anima], it is far surpassed by many of the tropical mem-
bers of the group, and especially by those of the Malayan
region, where nearly all the numerous species are bril-
liantly marked, and many are ornamented ■with variously
coloured longitudinal stripes along their bodies. One of
tile commonest and best known of the striped speci«3 is
the little Indian Palm Squirrel (S. palmarum), 'which in
large numbers runs about every Indian village. Another
Oriental species (S. caniceps) presents almost the only
known instance among mammals of the temporary assump-
tion during the breeding season of a distinctly ornamental
coat, corresponding to the breeding plumage of birds.
For the greater part of the year the animal is of a uniform
grey colour, but about December its back becomes a
brilliant orange-yellow, which lasts until about March,
when it is again replaced by grey. The squirrel shown
in fig. 2 is a native of Bunnah and Tenasserim, and is
Fio. 2.' — Bonnese aqiiirreL
Elosely~allied to S. caniceps, but goes through no aeasoBal
[change of colour.
The number of species in the genus Sdurus is about 75,
<of which 3 belong to the Balaearctic, 15 to the Ethiopian,
about 40 to the Oriental, and 16 to the combined Nearctic
land Neotropical regions.
Genoa Bheithrosciorns.
A single very striking species of squirrel, confined to Borneo, and
as yet only known from tares or four examples, has been separated
generically nnder the above name. The general shape of its skull
IS very different from that of other squirrels; but its most peculiar
ch'aracteristic is the presence of from seven to ten minute parallel
vertical grooves running down the front face of its incisors, both
above and below, do other squirrel having really grooved incisors
at all, and no other member of the whole order of rodents incisor
grooves resembling tbese. Its premolars only number \, and its
molan am limpkr and less ridged than in the other genera. This
squirrel {EJu macrotis) is a magnificent animal, far larger than
the English species, with an enormously long bushy ,feil, long
tufted ears, and black and white bands do^vn its sides.
Genus Xerus.
Fur coarse and spiny. Claws long and comparatiyely straight.
Ear-conchea minute or entirely absent. Skull with the post-orbit&l
processes short and directed backwards, the bony pailate prolonged
considerably behind the tooth-row, and the external ridge on the
front face of the anterior zygoma-root more developed, and con-
tinued much further upwards, than in Sciunis. Premolars f ; molars
as in Sciunts, This genus contains four well-marked species, known
as Spiny Squirrels, all natives of Africa. They are ten-estrial in
their habits, living in burrows which they dig for themselves.
X, getulus, a striped species of North Africa, has much the size
and appearance of the Indian palm squirrel ; the others are all
a little larger than the English squin'eL
Genus Tamias.
The members of this genus are characterized by the possession
of internal cheek -pouches, and by their style of coloration, all
being ornamented on the back with alternate bands of light and
dark colour. Their skulls are slenderer and lighter than those of
the trae squirrels, from which they differ in several unimportant
details. There is only one functional premolar, — the small anterior
one usually found in Sdurus being either absent altogether or quite
small and fonctionless. There are four species, aU found in North
America, one extending also through Siberia ii'to eastern Europe.
They are known in America as " Chipmunk."!," and are among uie
commonest and best known of the indigenous rodents. The
members of this group seem rather to lead into the genus Spcrma-
philus (see Majimot) of the sub-family Ardamxfina, so that the
division of the Sciuridas into two sub-families, although very con-
venient for classification and description, is rather of an artificial
nature, there being no well-defined line of separation between
them.
Genera Pteromys and Sciuroptema.
trhe Flying Squirrels, although they cauuot fly in the tnie sense
of the word, can yet float through the air for considerable distances
by the aid of an extension of skin connecting their fore and hind
limbs, and forming a sort of parachute. ' This parachute is merely
a lateral extension of the ordinary skin of the body, which passes
outwards between the limbs and terminates at the wiists and ankles.
In addition to the lateral membrane there is a narrow and in-
conspicuous one passing from the cheek along the front of the
shoulder to the front of the wrist, and another — at least in tlie
larger species — stretching across behind the body from ankle to
ankle and involving the base of -the tail. The flying squirrels are
divided into two genera, of which Ptfromya contains the larger and
Sciuroplerus the smaller species. The two differ in certain details
of dentition, and in the greater development in the former of the
expanded membranes, especially of the ' ' interfemoral " or posterior
membrane, which is in the latter almost wholly absent. In
Pteromys the tail is cylindrical and comparatively thin, while in
Sciuroplerus it is broad, flat, and laterally expanded, and evidently
compensates for the absence of the interfemoral membrane by acting
as' a supplementary parachute. In appearance flying squirrefi
resemble the non-flying forms, although they are even more beau-
tifully coloured than the latter. Their habits, food, &c., are also
very similar to those of the true squirrels, except that they are
more decidedly nocturnal, and are therefore less oTteu seen by the
ordinary observer. Their method of leaping from tree to tree and
floating "long distances on their extended parachutes is precisely
similar to that of the fljTng phalangers of Australia, a graphic
description of which is quoted in Phalais'ger (vol. xviii. p. 729).
Of each of the two genera there are about thirteen or foMteen
species, all natives of the Oriental region, except that one of
Sciuroplerus is found in North America, and another in Siberia
and eastern Europe, — the latter, the Sdurus vola-iis of Linnteus's
Syslema Naturx, being the first flying squirrel that was known to
European naturalists. (0. T.)
SRENAGAR. See Kashmib, vol. xiv. p. 11.
SRIRANGAM, or Serdtghaji, a town of ■ India, in
Trichinopoli district, JIadras presidency, situated in 10°
51' 50" N. lat. and 78° 43' 55" E. long., 2 miles north of
Trichinopoli city and almost in the centre of the island of
Srlrangam. The island is formed by the bifurcation of
the river Kdveri (Cauvery) and by the channel of the
Colerun. . The town is celebrated for its great temple
dedicated to Vishnu, composed of seven square enclosures,
350 feet distant from each other. Each enclosure has four
gates 'with high towers, placed one in the centre of each
side opposite to the four cardinal points. The outer wall
of the temple is not less than '4 miles in ckcumference.
Erom 1751 to 1755 the island and its pagodas were the
object of frequent contests between the French and the
British. Srlrangam was constituted a municipality in
1871, and since then much has been done to improve tho
place. In 1881 the population was 19,773 (9330 maleu
and 10,443 females):
SRIRANGAPATAM See Seringapatah.
S T A — S T A
439
STAALr Marguerite Jeannb Cordiee Delaunay,
Baronn-e de (1684-1760)— often called in history and
literature iladame de Staal-Delaunay, to distinguish her
more completely from Madame de Stael-Holstein — was
born at Paris on May 30, 1684. Her father was a painter
named Cordicr. He seems to have deserted her mother,
whoso name was Delaunay, and who made her daughter
take that surname instead of Cordier. She was well-
educated, and entered the household of the Duchesse du
Maine at Sceaus, at first in no higher capacity than that
of femvie de chambre. She was, however, promoted
before long to the office of amanuensis and (practically)
companion to her mistress. Her literary talent soon
manifested itself in the literary court of the duchess, who
is said, but chiefly on the waiting lady's own authority, to
hare been not a little jealous of her attendant. Enough,
however, is known of the duchess's imperious and
capricious temper to make it improbable that her service
was agreeable. Madame Delaunay, however, was a
sufficiently devoted snimnfe, and in the afEair of the
Cellamare conspiracy had to endure a visit to the Bastille,
where she remained for two years. Even here, however,
she represents herself as having made conquests, though
she was far from beautiful. She returned on her liberation
to the service of the duchess, refused, it is said, Dacier, the
widower of a wife more famous than himself, and in 1735,
being then more than fifty, married the Baron de Staal.
She- continued, however, to form part of the duchess's
household. She died on June 16, 1750. Her Memoirs
appeared about five years later, and have often been
reprinted, both separately and in collections of the
memoirs of the 17th and 18th centuries, to both of which
the author belonged both in style and character. She has
much of the frankness and seductive verve of Madame de
S^vign6 and her contemporaries, but a little alloyed with
the sensibilile of a later time. It may be doubted whether
she does not somewhat exaggerate the discomforts of her
position and her sense of them. But her book is an ex-
tremely amusing one to read, as well as not a little instruc-
tive. The humours of the " court of Sceaux" are depicted as
hardly any other society of the kind has ever been. Besides
her Memoirs Madame de Staal left two comedies and some
letters, the answers to which are in some cases extant, and
show, as well as the references of contemporaries, that the
■writer did not exaggerate her power of attracting men.
f STADE, a small commercial town in the province of
Hanover, Prussia, is situated on the navigable Schwinge,
3J miles above its confluence with the Elbe, and 20 miles
to the north-west of Hamburg. It carries on a number of
email manufactures and has some shipping trade, chiefly
with Jiamburg, but the rise of Harburg has deposed it
from its former position as the chief port of Hanover.
There are several brickfields in the neighbourhood, and
deposits of gypsum and salt. The fortifications, erected
ia 1755 and strengthened in 1 816, began to be demolished
in 1882. Population in 1885, 10,003.
According to the legend, Stado was tho oldest town of the
Saxons, and was built in 321 B.C. Historically it cannot bo traced
farther back than tho 10th century, when it was the capital of a
lino of counts. In tho 12th century it passed to tlie archbishopric
of Bremen. Subsequently entering the Hanseatic League, it rose
to some commercial importance.' In 1648 Stade became tho
' The Btodo Elbe-dues (Stader Elbezoll) were an ancient impost upon
all goods carried up the Elbe, and were levied at the village of Bruns-
bauBcn, at the mouth of tho Bohwinge. The tax was abolished in
12C7 by tho Hanseatic League, but it was revived by the Swedes dn
1688, and conllrnied by Hanover. The dues were fostered by the
growing trade of Hamburg, and in 1861, when they were redeemed
<for £427,600) by the nations trading in the Elbe, tho exchetiuer of
Hanover was in tho yearly receipt of about £45,000 fron\ this source.
Hamburg and Great Britaia each paid mora tlian a third of tho rudemp-
tiou moaoy.
capital of the principality of Bremen nnder the Swedes ; and in
1719 it was c*dod to Hanover, the fate of which it has since
shared. The Prussians occupied it without resistance in 1866.
STAEL, Majdame de (by her proper name and title
Anne LotiisE Germaine Necker, Baroness of Stael-
Holstein), was born at Paris on April 22, 1766, and
died there on July 14, 1817. Her father was tho famous
financier Keeker, her mother Suzanne Curchod, who is
almost equally famous as the early love of Gibbon, as the
wife of Necker, as the mistress of one of the most popular
salons of Paris, and as the mother of iladame de Stael.
Between mother and daughter there was, hovrever, little
sympathy. Madame Necker, despite her talents, her
beauty, and her fondness for philosophe society, was strictly
decorous, somewhat reserved, and disposed to carry out in
her daughter's case the rigorous discipline of her own
childhood. The future Madame de Stael was from her
earliest years a romp, a coquette, and passionately
desirous of prominence and attention. There seems more-
over to have been a sort of rivalry between mother and
daughter for the chief place in Necker's affections, and it
is not probable that the daughter's love for her mother
was increased by the consciousness of her own inferiority
in personal charms, iladame Necker, if her portraits as
well as verbal descriptions may be trusted, was of a moat
refined though somewhat lackadaisical style of beauty,
while her daughter was a plain child and a plainer woman,
whose sole attractions were large and striking eyes and
a buxom figure. She was, however, a child of unusual
intellectual power, and she began very early to write
though not to publish. She is said to have written her
father a letter on his famous Compte-Retulu and other
matters when she was not fifteen, and to have injured her
health by excessive study and intellectual excitement.
But in reading all the accounts of Madame de Stael's life
which come from herself or her intimate friends it must
be carefully remembered that she was the most dis-
tinguished and characteristic product of the period of
sensibilite — the singular fashion of ultra-sentiment which
required that both men and women, but especially women,
should be always palpitating with excitement, steeped in
melancholy, or dissolved in tears. Still, there is no doubt
that her father's dismissal from -the ministry, which
followed the presentation of the Compte, and the con-
sequent removal of the family from the busy life of Paris,
were beneficial to her. During part of the next few years
they resided at Coppet, her father's estate on the Lake of
Geneva, which she herself made famous. But other parts
were spent in travelling about, chiefly in the south of
France. They returned to Paris, or at least to its neigh-
bourhood, in 1785, and Mademoiselle Necker resumed
literary work of a miscellaneous kind, including two
plays, Sophie and Jane Grey, which were printed sooner
or later. It became, however, a question of marrying her.
Her want of beauty was compensated by her fortune, for
she was the only child of one of tho richest bankers in
Europe. But her parents are said to have objected to her
marrying a Roman Catholic, which, in France, consider-
ably limited her choioe. There is a legend that William
Pitt the younger thought of her ; the somewhat notorious
lover of Mac&moisello do Lospinasse, Guibert, a cold-
hearted coxcomb of some talent, certainly paid her
addrosses. But she finally married Erie Magnus, Barou
of Stael-Holstein, who was first an attach^ of the Swedish
legation, and then minister. For a great heiress and a
very ambitious girl the marriage scarcely seemed brilliunt,
for Stael had no fortuna and no very great personal dis-
tinction. A singular scries of negotiations, however,
secured from the king of Sweden a promise of the
ambassadorship for twelve years and a pension in casa oi
440
S T A E L
Its witlidrawal, and the marriage took- place on January
14, 1786. The husband was thirty-seven, the wife twenty,
.vladarae de Stael was accused of extravagance, and latterly
an amicable separatio* of goods had to be effected between
the pair. But this was a mere legal formality, and on the
whole the marriage seems to have met the views of both
parties, neither of whom had any affection for the other.
They had three children ; there was no scandal between
tiiem ; the baron obtained money and the lady obtained,
as a guaranteed ambassadress of a foreign power of con-
Rideration, a much higher position at court and in society
than she could have secured by marrying almost any
Frenchman, without the inconveniences which might have
been expected had she married a Frenchman superior to
herself in rank. The particular fancy of Marie Antoinette
for Sweden, caused by the fantastic devotion of Count
Fersen and the king himself to her, secured moreover a
reception which might have been otherwise difficult to
gain. Madame de Stael was not a persona grata at court,
but she seems to have played the part of ambassadress,
as she plaj'ed most parts, in a rather noisy and exaggerated
manner, but not ill. Then in 1788 she appeared ar an
author under her own name {Sophie had been already
published, but anonymously) with some Leltres sur J. J.
Rousseau, a fervid panegyric showing a good deal of talent
but no power of criticism. She was at this time, and
indeed geuei-ally, enthusiastic for a mixture of Rousseauism
and constitutionalism in politics, and her father's restora-
tion to power excited extravagant hopes in her, though
Necker himself knew better. She exulted more than ever
in the meeting of the states-general, and most of all when
Ler father, after being driven to Brussels by a state
intrigue, was once more recalled and triumphally escorted
into Paris. Everj one knows what followed. Her first
child, a boy, was born the week before Necker finally left
France in unpopularity and disgrace ; and the increasing
disturbances of the Revolution made her privileges as
ambassadress no mere matters of ornamental distinction
gratifying to vanity, but very important safeguards. She
visited Coppet once o\ twice, but for the most part in the
early days of the revolutionai-y period she was in Paris
taking an interest and, as she thought^ a part in the
councils and efforts of the Moderates. At last, the day
before the September massacres, she fled, befriended by
Manuel and Tallien. Her own account of her escape is,
as usual, so florid that it provokes the question whether
she was really in any danger. Directly it does not seem
that she was ; but she had generously strained the privi-
leges of the embassy to protect some threatened friends,
and this was a seriowj matter.
She betook herself to Coppet, and there gathered
round her a considerable number of friends and fellow-
refugees, the beginning of the quasi-court which at inter-
vals during the next five-and-twenty years made the place
so famous. In 1793, however, she made a visit of some
length to England, and established herself at Mickleham
in Surrey as the centre of the Moderate Liberal emigrants,
— Talleyrand, Narbonne, Jaucourt, Guibert, and others.
There was not a little scandal about her relations with
Narbonne ; and it is very much to be doubted whether
this can safely be set down, as her panegyrists usually set
it, to the mere .^pite of the first or royalist emigrants, to
whom she and her party were almost more obnoxious than
the Jacobins. It is certain that this Mickicham sojoure
(the details of which are known from, among othei sources,
the letters of Fanny Burney) has never been altogether
satisfactorily accounted for. In the summer she returned
to Coppet and wrote a pamphlet on the queen's execution.
The next year her mother died, and the fall of Robespierre
opened the way back to Paris. M. de Stael (whose mis-
sion had been in abeyance and himself iu Holland fot
three years) was accredited to the French republic by the
regent of Sweden; his wife reopened her .salon and for a
time was conspicuous in the motley and eccentric society
of the Directory. She also published sevei-al small works,
the chief being an essay De I'Influence des Passions
(1796), and another Be la Lilterature Consicleree cUms
ses Rapports avec fes Institutions Son'ates (IROO). It was
during these years that Madame de Stael was of chief
political importance. Narbonne's place had been supplied
by Benjamin Constant, who had a very great influence
over her, as in return she had over him. During the
Directory she had some real and more imaginary power
as a politician, and both personal and political reasons
threw her into opposition to Bonaparte. Her own pre-
ference for a moderate republic or a constitutional moiv-
archy was quite sincere, and, even if it had not beet»
so, her own character and Napoleon's were too much
alike in some points to admit of their getting on together.
For some years, however, she was able to alternate between
Coppet and Paris without difficulty, though not without
knowing that the First Consul disliked her. In 1797 she,
as above mentioned, separated formally from her husband.
In 1799 he was recalled by the king of Sweden, and in
1802 he died duly attended by her. Besides the eldest
son Auguste Louis, they had two other children, — a son
Albert, and a daughter Albertine, who afterwards became
the Duchesse de Broglie.
The exact date of the beginning of what Madame de
Stael's admirers call her duel with Napoleon is not easy
to determine. Judging from the title of her book Dijr
Annies d'Exil, it should be put at 1804; judging from
the time- at which it became pretty clear that the first
man in France and she who wished to be the first woman
in France were not likely to get on together, it might be
put several years earlier. The whole question of this
duel, however (marked as it was by Napoleon's unscrapn-
lous exercises of power, which reached a climax iu the
suppression of the De I'Allemagne after it had been
carefully submitted to his censorship), requires considera-
tion from the point of view of common sense. It dis-
nleased Napoleon no doubt that Madame de Stael should
show herself recalcitrant to his influence. But it prob-
ably pleased Madame de Stael to quite an equal degree
that Napoleon should apparently put forth his power to
crush her and fail. Both personages had the curious
touch ol cliarlatanerie so common in the late 18th century,
and "made believe" in a fashion bewildering and a little
incredible to posterity. If Madame de Stael had reaUy
desired to take up her pSTrable against Napoleon seriously,
she need only have established herself in England at the
peace of Amiens and have lived quietly there. She did
nothing of the kind. She lingered on at Coi>pet, con-
stantly hankering after Paris, and acknowledging the
hankering quite honestly. In 1802 she published the
first of her really noteworthy books, the novel of />o/////i»«,
in which the "femme incomprise" was in a manner intro-
duced to French literature, and in which she herself and
not a few of her intimates appeared in transparent di.s-
guise. In the autumn of 1803 she returned to i^aris.
Whether, if she had not displayed Buch exiraordinary
anxiety not to be exiled, Napoleon would have exiled her
remains a question ; but, as she began at once a[ipealiDg
to all sorts of persons to protect her, he seems to have
thought it better that she should not be protected. She
was directed not to reside vidthin forty leagues of I'arLs.
and after considerable delay she determined to go tq
Germany. She journeyed by Sletz and Frankfort tc
Weimar, and arrived there in December. There she stayed
during the winter, and then _ went to ^Berlin^where sJi«
S T A E L
441
made the acquaintance of August Wilhelm Schlegel, who
afterwards l.ecame one of her intimates at Coppet. Thence
she travelled to Vienna, where, in April, the news of her
father's dangerous illness and shortly of his death (April
8) reached her. She returned to Coppet, and found her-
self its wealthy and independent mistress, but her sorrow
for her father was deep and certainly sincere. She spent
the summer at the chateau with a brilliant company ; in
the autumn she journeyed to Italy accompanied by
Schlegel and Sismondi, and there gathered the materials
of her most famous work, Corinne. She returned in the
summer of 1805, and spent nearly a year in writing
Corinne; in 1806 she broke the decree of exile and lived
for a time undisturbed near Paris. In 1807 Corinne, the
first esthetic romance not written in German, appeared.
It is in fact, what it was described as being at the time of
its appearance, "a picturesque tour couched in the form
of a novel." The publication was taken as a reminder of
\ier existence, and the police of the empire sent her back
to Coppet. She stayed there as usual for the summer,
and then set out once more for Germany, visiting Mainz,
Fraakfort, Berlin, and Vienna. She was again at Coppet
in the summer of 1808, and set to work at her book De
V AUemagne. It took her nearly the whole of the next
two years, during which she did not travel much or far
from her own house. She had bought property in America
ajid thought of moving thither, but chance or fatality
made her determine to publish De V AUemagne in Paris.
The submission to censorship which this entailed was
sufficiently inconsistent, and s^e wrote to the emperor one
of the unfortunate letters, at once undignified and provok-
ing, of which she had the secret. A man less tyrannical or
less mean-spirited than Napoleon would of course have let
her alone, but Napoleon was Napoleon, and she perfectly
well knew him. The reply to her letter was the condemna-
tion of the whole edition of her book (ten thousand copies)
as "not French," and her own exile, not as before to a
certain distance from Paris, but from France altogether.
The act was unquestionably one of odious tyranny, but it
is impossible not to ask why she had put herself within
reach of it when her fortune enabled her to reside any-
where and to publish what she pleased. She retired once
more to Coppet, where she was not at first interfered with,
and she found consolation in a young officer of Swiss origin
named Rocca, twenty-three years her junior, whom she
married privately in 1811. The intimacy of their relations
could escape no one at Coppet, but the fact of the marriage
was not certainly knowq till after her death.
The operations of the imperial police in regard to
Madame de Stael are rather obscure. She was at first
left undisturbed, but by degrees the chateau itself became
taboo, and her visitors found themselves punished heavily.
Mathieu de Montmorency and Madame Riicamier were
exiled for the crime of seeing her ; and she at last began
to think of doing' what she ought to have done years
before and withdrawing herself entirely from Napoleon's
sphere. In the complete subjection of the Continent
which preceded the Russian War this was not so easy as
it would have been earlier, and she remained at home
during the winter of 1811, writing and planning.- On
May 23 she left Coppet almost secretly, and journeyed
by Bern, mnsbruck, and Salzburg to Vienna. There she
obtained an Austrian passport to the frontier, and after
some fears and trouble, receiving a Russian passport in
Galicia, she at last escaped from the dungeon of Napo-
lecmic Europe, swearing never to return thither. It
seemed likely that the proclamation of war between
France and Russia, on June 22, would help her to keep
Iha vow.
She journeyed slowly though Russia and Finland to
Sweden, makmg some stay at St Petersburg, spent the
winter in Stockholm, and then set out for England.
Here she received a brilliant reception and was much
lionized during the season of 1813. She published De
I'Atlemagne (a book much more really remarkable than
Corinne) in the autumn, was saddened by the death
of her second son Albert, who had entered the Swedish
army and fell in a duel brought on by gambling, under-
took her Considerations svr la Revolution Fi't(n(aise, and
when Louis XVIII. had been restored returned to Paris.
Both in the summer and in the winter of 1^14 she visited
Coppet, and was meanwhile a prominent figure in Parisian
society. She was in Paris when the news of Napoleon's
landing arrived and at once fled to Coppet, but a singular
story, much discussed, is current of her having approved
Napoleon's return. There is no direct evidence of it, but
the conduct of her close ally Constant may be quoted in
its support, and it is certain that she had no affection for
the Bourbons. In October, after Waterloo, she set out
for Italy, not only for the advantage of her own health
but for that of her second husband, Rocca, who was dying
of consumption. Her daughter married Duke \ ictor de
Broglie on February 20, 181G, at Pisa, and became the
wife and mother of French statesmen of distinction. The
whole family returned to Coppet in June, and Byron now
frequently visited Madame de Stael there. He had
quizzed her a good deal in London, but liked her better in
her own house, though even there he noticed her constant
straining to be something different from herself. Despite
her increasing ill-health she returned to Paris for the
winter of 1816-17, and her salon was much frequented.
But in March she is spoken of as "dying," and she had
already become confined to her room, if not to her bed.
She died on the 14th of July, and Rocca survived her
little more than six months. Nor was her eldest son long-
lived. After editing a collected edition of his mother's
works he died at the age of thirty-seven in 1827.
Madame de Stael occupies a singular position in French liter-
ature. The men of her own time exalted her to the skies, and the
most extravagant estimates of her (as " the greatest woman in
literary history," as the "foundress of the romantic movement,"
as representing "ideas," while her contemporary Chateaubriand
only represented words, colours, and images, and so forth) are to be
found in those histories of literature which faithfully repeat second-
hand and traditional opinions. On the other b.ind, it is acknow-
ledged that she is now very little read. Saintc-Beuve, who professes
a " culto " for her, and who has treated her at great length and
with much indulgence ; M. Scherer, a compatriot and co-religionist,
who is strongly prejudiced in her favour ; IJoudan, a kind of literary
retainer of her connexions, — all allow this, and any one who speaks
with an intimate knowledge of current French literature must agree
that since they spoke neglect of her has increased. No writer of
such eminence is so rarely quoted ; none is so entirely destitute of
that tribute of new and splendid editions which France pays to
her favourite classics more lavishly than any other nation ; none is
so seldom the subject of a literary causcric. The abundant docu-
ments in the hands of her descendants, the families of Broglie and
HaussonviUe, have indeed furnished material for papers recdntly,
but these are almost wholly on the social aspect of Madame de
Stael, not on her literary merit. Nor when the life and works come
to be examined independently is the neglect seen to be without
excuse. An ugly coquette, an old woman who made a ridiculous
marriage, a blue-stocking who spent much of her time in pestering
men of genius, and drawing from thera sarcastic comment behind
her back, — these things are not attiactivo. Her books are seen
to be in large part merely clever reflexions of other people's views,
or views cuirent at the time, and the famous "ideas" turn out to
bo chiefly the ideas of the books or the men with whom she was
from time to time in contact. The sentimentality of her bcntimcnt
and the florid magniloquence of her style equally disgust tlic
reader ; and, when it is suggested to him that the revolution ol
tasto and manners hurts novels more than anything else,. ho is
tempted to reply that it has not liurt Don Quixote, or Oil Bias, or
Hobiiison Crusoe, or Tom Jones, or Manon Lescaiit, or The Antiqtiart/,
and that if it has hurt Corinne it is timply because these arc great
books and Corinne is not a great book. There is truth in this,
but to state it alone would be in the highest degree unfair.
Madame do Stacl's faults are great ; her stylo is of tn ago not foe
442
S T A — S T A
all time; liev iilefts nro mostly secoud-liand and freqiieiitly super-
ficial. But nothing save a very great talent coulil have sUown itself
so receptive. Take away licr assiduous frequeiitation of society,
from tlie later }ihiloso2>!>c coteries to tlie age of Byron, — tal<c away
the influence of Constant and Schlegcl and her other literary
friends, — and probably little of her will remain. But to have
'caught from all .sides in this mj.nner the floating notions of society
and of individuals, to retiect them with such vigour and clearness, _
to combine thorn with such not inconsiderable skill into connected
boolvs, is not anybody's task. Her two -best books, Corinne and
Dc I'AlUmannc, are in all probability almost wholly unorip;inal,
a little sentiment in the first and a little constitutionalism in the
second being all that she can claim. But Corinne is still a "very
remarkable exposition of a certain kind of ffisthetioism, and Dc
lAllcmagne is still perhaps the most, remarkable account of one
country by a native and inhabitant of another which exists in
literature. This praise, and it is very high praise, can be given to
Madame de Stael. But the merits which it allows are not merits
of the class which secure readers for ever. Neither in style nor in
thought was she of the first class or perhaps of the second ; and
besides thought and style nothing will save books.
Baron Auguste de Stael e^iited. as hft3 been said, the complete works of hi3
mother !n seventeen volumes (Paris, 1S20-1), and t!ie edition wms aTlerwards ve-
pablished in a coinpacter form, and, supplemented by some (Euvres JnMites,
is still obtainable in 8 vols, l.irge 8vo (Didol). The Considerations and tlie Dix
Anne'es d'Exil had been publislied after M.idarae de Stael's death. There is no
recent reissue of the whole, and the minor works have not been reprinted, but
Corinne, Dt'phine, and De VAIlemanne aie easily accessible in cheap and separite
forms. Of recent works on Mad.ime de Stael, or rather on Coppet and its
society, those of SIM. Caro and Othenln d'Haussonville may be menti-tned. In
English there is an elaborate biography by A. Sl'evens (London, 1880). full of
Information, but unluckily not at all ciitical. (G. SA.)
STAFFORD, an inland county of England, is bounded
on the S.E. by Warwickshire, S. by Worcestershire, W.
by Shropshire, N.W. by Cheshire, and E. by Derby.shire,
just touching, Leicestershire. It is »o£ irregular outline,
and has been likened to an elongated and compressed pear,
somewhat tapering at both ends. Its greatest length from
north to south is 63 miles, and its greatest breadth is 35
miles. The area is 748,433 acres — about 1170 square
miles.
Surface and Geology. — Although the general aspect of
the county is that of a plain, it has been pronounced
"rather a subalpine or hilly district"; but its highest hill,
Axe Edge, is only 1756 feet above the level of the sea.
In the north the land is undulating and very picturesque ;
the hills here are the loftiest in the county, as Axe Edge,
Cloud Thorpe, Mow Cop, and other hillocks and mounds
called " edges." These are mostly composed of millstone
grit. In the south we have sandstone, gravel, limestone,
and basalt, represented respectively by Kinfare Edge,
Parr and Cannock Chase, Sedgley, and Clent. The prin-
cipal rivers are the Trent, the Tame, the Sow, the Penk,
the Stour, the Blythe, the Tern, the Churnet, the Lyme,
the Smestov, and the Manyfold ; of these the Trent is the
most important. The Severn has a short part of- its
course within the county, traversing the coal-field at
Arley. The Dove separates Staffordshire from Derby-
shire. Several of the rivers are well supplied with fish.
Geologically the county is included in the New Eed
Sandstone district of England, and is of the Carboniferous,
Permian, and Triassic systems of formation. It is rich
in limestone and coal. According to Mr Garner {Natural
History of the County of Stafford), the following is a sum-
mary of its geological 'characters : — the Polley coal-field
occupies 51 square miles; the South Staffordshire coal-
field (excluding about 11 miles of it situated in other
counties), 65 ; the Silurian limestone, <tc., in the south of
the county, 16; the Rowley basalt, 1; the Clent basalt,
2 ; the Arley coal-field, basalt, cornstone, (fee., 7 ; the
mountain limestone, 40; the Cheadle coal-field, 18; the
Cliiddleton coal-field, 1-; the Meerbrook coal-field, 4; the
millstoue.grit, 100 ; the New Eed Sandstone (marl, gravel,
rock, sand, and peat), 825.
The county is very rich in fossils. In the coal, the
limestone, and the Silurian deposits the remains of marine
animals and plants are especially nuraeroua The museums
in several towns have good collections of corals, calamites,
and ferns ; and jirobably the finest examples of tn\6oitei/
and encrinites have been found in this part oi England.
The teeth of the Megatichthys have been found in the
coal strata, and the Dudley museum contains a specimen
of HI. Jiibberti, nearly entire. The county is very rich in
mineral productions. In a single year 12,000,000 tons
of coal and 1,173,866 tons of iron have been obtained.
The greatest quantity of iron is raised in the north and
of coal in the south. Of the places at which the various
products are found may be named— -Birch Hills for anthra-
cite coal ; Hanley Green for peacock coal ; Longton for
cannel coal ; Wednesbury for hematite iron ore ; Langley
Close for grey marble ; the Rowley Hills for basalt. At
Bilston casting sand, at Kingswinford fire-clay and fire
bricks, at Tutbury alabaster, at Powke Hill black marble,
and at Hemley Green red ochre are produced. In Decem-
ber 1885 an important discovery of coal was made near
Dudley. Mr S. Blewitt has driven from the Grace Mary
pits about 250 yards towards the Ivy House estat^
through the igneous rocks, and come upon a large area of
the best hard coal, about thirty feet in thickness, and some
thirty acres in area.
Climate and Agriculture. — Aa regards clfrriate The county shares
the characteristics common to the midland district of England.
Agriculture, though not its distinctive feature, fdrms a very imnrrt-
ant item in the industry and wealth of Staftordshire. The returns for
1886 furnish the following report: in corn crops there were 94,273
acres ; roots, artificial grasses, &c. , 43,343; clover and grasses,46,832j
permanent pasture, 412,566; fallow, 7203; orchards, 1188; market
gardens, 866; nursery grounds, 233; woods and plantations, 34,911.
From the same returns we learn that the number of horses em-
ployed in agriculture was 16,031; unbroken horses and brood mares,
7802; cows in milk- or in calf, 74,868; cattle under two years
old, 56,224; two years and upward, 25,922; one-year-old sheep,
142,955; sheep under one year, 106,950; and pigs, 48,569. The
total number of ja-oprietoia in the county was returned in 187S
as 43,371, possessing 638,084 acres, producing an annual rental of
£3,630,254. The estimated extent of waste or common laud wa?
7809 acres. Of the owners 33,672 owned less than one acre each.'
Eight proprietors were owners of more than 10,000 acres each,
viz.. Earl of Lichfield, 21,433; Earl of Shrewsbury, 18,954; Lord
Ilatherton, 14,901 ; Marquis of Anglesey, 14,344 ; Sir J. H. iCrewe,
14,256; Duke of Sutherland, 12,744; Lord Bagot, 10,993; Su- T •
F. F. Boughey, 10,505.
Manufactures. — The mannfactures of Staffordshire are of a very
varied character. Almost everythiiig which is made of iron is
manu&ctured in one town or another; and it would only be
tedious to enumerate the aliiiost infinite variety of goods produced.
Wolverhampton and Willenhall are famous for locks, Cradley for
nails, Oldbury for railway carriages, Walsall for spurs, bits, and
saddlery, Tipton for anchors, Smethwick for glass, Soho for
steam engines and hydraulic jacks, AVednesfield for keys, Bilston
for tinpJate wares, and Bloxwich for bits. Thanks to the labours
of Josiah Wedgwood and Flaxnian, the pottery work of Stafford-
shire ranks among the most famous manufactures of the kingdom,
and Etruria is a household word wherever the admirable and
artistic Wedgwood ware is known. The ale produced at Burton-
on-Trent finds a marketin almost every civilized country in the
world, and in some that can scarcely be so described.
Cormmimicalicm. — The county is admirably provided with rail-
ways, canals, and tramways. The main roads are excellent, and
are well maintained and kept in capital condition.
Adrninislralion and Population.— The population in 1S61 was
746,943; in 1871 858,326; and in 1S31 981,013 (males 492,009,
females 489,004), an average of I'Sl persons to an acre. Stafford-
shire is in the Oxford circuit, and is nearly all in the diocese of
Lichfield. The seat of the bishopric and the will courts are ai
Lichfield. The assize town^is Stafford. There are five hundreds,
each having two divisions : — North Totmonslow (Leek) and South
Totmonslow (Cheadle), North Pirehill (Potteries) and South Pirehill
(Stone), North Offlow ( Burtou-on-Trent) and South Offlow (Walsall),
East Cuttlestone (Eugeley) and West Cuttlestone (Gnosall), Nortl)
Seisdon (Sedgley) and South Seisdon (Kinfare). The county has
one court of quarter sessions, and is divided into twenty-two petty
and special sessional divisions; and there are 247 civil parishcs'and
sixteen poor law unions. The municipal boroughs number twelve :
— Burslem, population 28,622; Burton-on-Trent (partly in Derby-
shire), 39,288; Hanley, 48.361 ; Lichfield, 8349 ; Longton, 18,620;
Newcastle-under-Lvme, 17,508; Stafford, 19,977; Stoke-on-Trent,
19,261 ; Taraworth (partly in Warwickshire), 4891 ; Walsall S8,7&5 j
West Bromwich, 56,295 ; Wolverhampton, 76,766. "'
STAFFORD
443
By the lUdistribution of Seats Act, 1885, the parliamentary
representation of Staffordshire was arranged as follows: — seven
boroughs eadi returning one member, one borough returning three,
and seven county divisions with one member to each, — making
seventeen members for the whole county. The county divisions
are named respectively Burton, Handsworth, Kingswinford, Leek,
Lichfield, North- West, and West The following is ft list of the
boroughs, with populations given by or based on the census of
1881 :— Wolverhampton (three members), 164,332 ; Hanlcy, 75,912 ;
Kewcastle-under-Lyme, 49,293; Stafford, 19,977; Stoke-on-Trent,
64,091; WalsaU, 69,402; Wednesbury, 68,142; West Bromwich,
56,295.
History and Antiquilies. — Much antiquarian learning has been
employed in showiilg that Staffordshire was in early ante-Roman
daj-a famous for the presence and power of the Druids. Cannock
Chase has been described as their headquarters in Britain; and
Barr Beacon has been generallj- accepted as one of their principal
places of worship, of which Drood or Druid Heath by its name
still preserves the tradition. At the time of Cesar's arrival in
the island this part of England was peopled by tribes whom the
Roman authors designate as Comavii or CamabiL The conquerors
named the central part of the country, which included Stafford-
sliire, Flavia Caesariensis. Two of their most famous roads,
Watling Street and Ickuield Street, passed through the county,
—the first-named from Fazeley through ^Yall {Etocetum) to
Wroxeter (£7n'contKm), and the Icknield Street through Birming-
ham to Wall, and by Burton-on-Trent to Derby. In Saxon times
Staffordshire formed part of the great kingdom of Mercia, which
was remarkable for the tenacity with which the people clung to
their old faith and resisted the introduction of Christianity. The
new faith, however, prevailed over paganism, and a cathedral
was founded at Lichfield. Through the influence of Offa, Pope
Adrian in 786 made the see an independent archbishopric, but
this honour was only possessed for a short period. Mercia was
frequently invaded by the Danes, and several battles were fought
in Stalfordshire, notably at Tettenhall and Wednesfield (Woden's
I^eld), and a large number of Danes settled in this part. So
rapidly did they occupy the land that in 1016, when the Danish
king Canute divided his conquests into four earldoms,^Mercia was
believed to have as many Danish as Saxon inhabitants. After the
Norman Conquest the county was divided among the Conqueror's
retainers, the btrous De Torri, De Montgomery, Fitz-Ansculf, and
Db Ferrers coming in for the lion's share. Of after historical
events the most noted are the defeat and execution of the earl of
Lancaster by Edward II. in 1322, and the battle at Bloi-e Heath in
1459, in which the Yorkists were victorious over the Lancasterians.
Dnrint' the Civil War Lichfield cathedral was besieged in 1643, and
Lord Brook was killed by a shot fired from the battlements of the
great tower. Mary queen of Scots was imprisoned in Tutbury
Castle from 1569 to 1572. In 1745 Charles Edward, the Young
Pretender, in his attempt to win the crown of England, penetrated
as far as Leek.
Early British remains exist in various parts of the county; and
tL large number of barrows have been opened in which human
bones, urns, fibula;,' stone hammers, armletii, pins, pottery, and
other articles have been found. In the neighbourhood of Wetton
no fewer than twenty-three barrows have been opened, and British
ornaments have been found in Necdwood Forest. Several Roman
camps also exist in different parts. But of medieval times the
chief legacy is the cathedral at Lichfield l,q.v.), one of the most
beautiful in the king'" >m. Of other interesting places the most
worthy of notice are P audesert, Bentley Hall, Chillington, Dudley
Castle, Enville Hall, Ingestre, Stafford Castle, Tamworth Castle,
Tixall, and Wrottesley Hall. More modern mansions are Ham
Hall, Alton Towers, Shugborough, Patteshull, Kecle Hall, and
Trentham. Of famous personages belonging to the county are
John Dudley (duke of Northumberland), Cardinal Pole, Archbishop
Sheldon, Col. Jchn Lane, General Harrison, Lord Anson, Earl St
Vincent, Iznak W'alton, Dr Samuel Johnson, David Ganick, Josiah
Wedgwood, Miss Seward, Mary Howitt
bee Plot, Saturmt IIisl»nj of Stuffi>rcJihire,\^9\ Y,riesw\ck, 8m-vfy cf Stafford-
•Wk, 1717; Shaw, mnoty and Anliqtiiliei 0/ fi/aifoidiftiic, 1798-lfiOI; Pitt,
Topoffrap/tical I/istoty 0/ Stajfordshire, lt*17 ; Gamer, Saturat /Ustoiy 0/ the
Ctntnty of Stafford, 1844 ; Lanpfoi-d, SlafforJs/tire and Wartcickshire, 1874 ; anj
tb« pablicAtloDS of tbu Salt Arclixologicul Society,
STAFFORD, a parliamentary and municipal borougli
of England, and the county town of Staffordshire, is situated
on the left bank of the river Sow, almost in the heart of
England. It is 123 miles from London and 29 J from
Birmingham, and is in the southern division of the hundred
of Pirehili. The principal trades of the town are tanning
ftnd the manufacture of boots and shoes, more especially
for ladies. The oldest church is that of St Chad, said to
8 originally of Saxon origin. It was formerly a large and
e«autiful church, with chancel, nave, aisles, transQpts, and
a central tower, but has suffered severely from time, neglect,
and rough treatment. Restoration was begun in 1855, and
the operations led to the discovery of some fine interlacing
Js^'oman arches and a beautiful Xorman archway with som«
rich sculptured work between the nave and tower. The^e
were restored in 1856 and a new roof' was put on the
chancel in memory of Izaak Walton. In 187-1, the nave,
arcades, and open-timbered roof were restored in memory
of ilr Thomas Salt ; in 1874-75 the south aisle was rebuilt,
and in 1884-85 the tower. The finest of the churches in
Stafford is undoubtedly St Mary's, which was admirably
restored in 1844-45 by Sir Gilbert Scott, at a cost of
£30,000. It contains some good monuments, and seve.
ral very fine memorial windows of stained glass. Other
churches worthy of mention are Christ Church, St Paul's,
and St Thomas's. The grammar school is a very old
foundation, enlarged by Edward VI. ; the present building
was erected in 1862. The free library was opened in
1882, and is now fairly well supplied with books. The
William Salt library contains a unique collection of books,
deeds, autographs, engravings, and drawings relating to
the county, collected by Jlr Salt and presented by his
widow. It contains some 7000 volumes, between 2000
and 3000 deeds, and more than 9000 .drawings, auto^
graphs, and valuable MSS., mostly relating to the history,
topography, <S:c., of the county. The town also possesses
a godd museum, collected principally by Mr Clement
L. Wragge, and called by his name ; specially interesting
is its almost perfect collection of fossils. Stafford also
contains a good school of art and a mechanics' institute.
Other prominent buildings are the shire hall, in which
the assizes and quarter sessions are held, and the borough
hall; the latter contains the municipal offices, and also
has a large hall for public meetings. Stafford is well
supplied with charitable institutions, among which may
be mentioned the general infirmai-y, built in 1766; the
county lunatic asylum in 1818; and the Coton Hill
institution for the insane in 1854, beautifully situated on
rising ground, which commands extensive views of some
of the loveliest country in the county, while its own
grounds are tastefully laid out. The householders of
Stafford formerly possessed the right of using some very
extensive common land situated north of the town ; in
1880, however, all that remained (134 acres) was enclosed,
and is now heid for the people by a committee of house-
holders elected annually. A part of this land, called
Stone Flat, is preserved as a public recreation ground.
Of another common named Coton Field, consisting of
about 180 acres, 70 acres were in 1884 transferred abso-
lutely to the freemen, and have been divided into 401
garden allotments, which are let at a small rental to
resident freemen or their widows. The parliamentary
borough (area 774 acres, with population of 18,904 in
1881) waa extended in 1885, and is now identical with
the municipal borough. The area of this is- 1012 acres,
and the population, 14,437 in 1871, waa in 1881 19,977.
The Act of 1885 reduced the parliamentary representation
from two members to one.
Stafford was of considerable importance before the Conquest
The site was at first known as Bcrteliney or Bethency, from the
island on which the earliest houses were built. As tli« toivn grt^w
its name was changed into that of Statford or SUdford. In
913 Ethelficdo, sister of Edward the Elder, erected a fortification
here, generally called a castle, but doubtlcsa one of those de-
fensive mounds which from their adnjiiablo positions were after-
wards selected by the Normans as the sites of their castles and
strongholds. About a year and a half afterwards Edward tlio
Elder built a tower, with walls and a fosse round it. r>nnaul
says this was on the mount called Custle llill by Speed. Stal.nra
is mentioned in Domesday as a city juiyiug £9 in customs. 1 hem
were 18 royal burgesses, and the caris of Mercia possessed tw.nly
mansions. The number of houses entered is 178. W.l ham bu.lt
ft castle oil the old 9ito, of which ho appointed Bobert do Jorrt
444
S T A— S T A
goveniov, who took tlio namo De StafTord from tliat of tbo town,
and was tlie originator of the great family of tlie Staffords. At
this time it contained a royal mint ; some of the coins are still
extant, bearing on the obverse the head and name of the king,
and on the reverse "Godwinne on Staet." Godwinne was the
"king's moneyer." The castle of Robert de Torri was rebuilt
by Ralph de Stalford in the reign of Edward III. ; during the Civil
War it was held for the Royalists by tlie earl of Northamiiton,
but was taken for the Parliament by Sir William Brereton in Jlny
1643, The castle was soon afterwards demolished by order of the
Parliament. When fortified, Staflbrd had four gates. That on
the south, near the river bridge, called the Green-gate, was taken
down in 1780. The arch of the East-gate was standing a few years
ago. The Gaol-gate was in ruins in' 1680. The site of the fourth
gate is unknown. King .John confirmed and enlarged the privileges '
granted by the old charter. This was again confirmed by Edward
VX., and on August 6, 1575, Elizabeth visited the town. Stafford
adopted the Local Government Act, 1858, on April 23, 1872 ; and
in 1876 an Act was obtained for extending the borough boundaries.
Tlie corporation now consists of a mayor, eight aldermen, and
twenty-four councillors.
STAG. See Deer.
STAHL, Geoeg Ernst (1660-1734), chemist, was
born on 21st October 1660 at Ansbach, studied at Jena,
and became court-pbysician to the duke of Weimar in
16S7. In 1694 he ^^■as appointed professor of medicine
in Halle and in 1716 ph3sician to the king of Prussia.
He died at Berlin on Jlay U, 1734. His Tkeoria Medica
Vei-a appeared at Halle in 1707 (see Medicine, vol. xv.
p. 812), and his Experimenta et Observationes Chemicx
at Berlin in 1731 (see Chemistry, vol. v. pp. 460-61).
STAIR, James Dalrymple, First Viscount (1619-
1695), was born in May 1619 at Drummurchie in Ayrshire.
He was descended from a familj' for several generations in-
clined to the principles of the Reformation, and had ances-
tors both on the father's and the mother's side amongst the
Lollards of Kyle. His father James Dalrymple, laird of the
small estate of Stair in Kyle, died when he was an infant ;
his mother, Janet Kennedy of Knockdaw, is described as
" a woman of excellent spirit," who took care to have him
well educated. From the grammar school at Mauchline
he went in 1633 to the university of Glasgow, where he
graduated in arts on July 26, 1637. Next year he went
to Edinburgh, probably with the intention of studying
law, but the troubles of the times then approaching a
crisis led him to change his course, and we next find him
serving in the earl of Glencairn's regiment in the war of
the Covenant. AVhat part he took in it is not certainly
known, but he was in command of a troop when recalled
in 1641 to -compete for a regency (as a tutorship or
professorship was then called) in the university of Glasgow.
He was elected in March. Mathematics, logic, ethics, and
politics were .the chief subjects of his lectures, and a note-
book on logic by one of his. students has been preserved.
His activity and skill in matters of college business were
praised by his colleagues, who numbered amongst them
some of the leading Covenanting divines, and his zeal in
teaching was gratefully acknowledged by his students.
'After nearly seven years' service he resigned his regency,
and removed to Edinburgh, where he was admitted to the
bar on February 17, 1648. This step had probably been
rendered easier by his marriage four years before to
^Margaret Ross, co-heiress of Balneil in Wigtown. Stair's
practice at the bar does not appear to have been large ;
Lis talents lay rather in the direction of learning and
business than of oratory or advocacy. His reputation and
the confidence reposed in him were shown by his appoint-
ment in'1649 as secretary to the commission sent to The
Hague to treat with Charles II. by the parliament of
Scotland. The negotiation having been broken off through
the unwillingness of the young king to accept the terms of
th« Covenanters, Stair was again sent in the following
year to Breda, where the failure of Jfontrose's expedition
foicud Charles to change hi.s attitude, Mud to icturn to
Scotland as the covenanted kiu^ Stair had preceded
him, and uitt him on his landing in Aberdeenshire,
probably carrying with him the news of the execution of
Montrose, which he had witnessed.
During the Commonwealth Stair continued to practise
at the bar ; but like most of his brethren he refused in
1654 to take die oath of allegiance to the CoinmonwealtU
and abjuration of royalty. Three years later, on the
death of Lord Balcomie, Stair was appointed oue of the
commissioners for the administration of justice in Scotland
on the recommendation of Jlonk. His appointment to
the bench on 1st July 1657 by Monk was confirmed by
Cromwell on the 26th. Stair's association with the English
judges at this time must have enlarged his acquaintance
with English law, as his travels had extended his knowledge
of the civil law and the modern European systems which
.followed it. He thus acquired a singular advantage when
he came to write on law, regarding it from a cosmopolitan
or international rather than a merely local or national point
of view. His actual discharge of judicial duty at this time
was short, for after the death of Cromwell the courts in
Scotland were shut, — a new commission issued in 1660 not
having taken effect, it being uncertain in whose name the
commission ought to run. It was during this period that
Stair became intimate with Monk, who is said to have been
advised by him when he left Scotland to call a full and
free parliament. Soon after the Restoration Stair went to
London, where he was received with favour by Charles,
knighted, and included in the new nomination of judges
in the Court of Session on 13th February 1661. He was
also put on various important commissions, busied hira.self
with local and agricultural affairs, and, like most of the
Scottish judges of this and the following century, acted
with zest and credit the part of a good country gentleman.
In 1662 he was one of the judges who refused to take
the declaration that the National Covenant and th«
Solemn League and Covenant were unlawful oaths, and,
forestalling the deposition which had been threatened as
the penalty of continued non-compliance, he placed his
resignation in the king's hands. ♦ The king, however, sum-
moned him to London, and allowed him to take the decla-
ration under an implied reservation. The next five years
of Stair's life were comparatively uneventful, but in 1669
a family calamity, the exact facts of which will probably
never be ascertained, overtook him. -^ His daughter Janet,
who had been betrothed to Lord Rutherfurd,*was married
to Dunbar of Baldoon, and some tragic incident occurred
on the wedding night, from the effects of which she never
recovered. As the traditions vary on the central fact,
whether it was the bride who stabbed her husband, or the
husband who stabbed the bride, no credence can be given
to the mass of superstitions and spiteful slander which
surrounded it, principally levelled at Lady Stair. In
1670 Stair served as one of the Scottish commissioners wh»
went to London to treat of the Union; but the project,
not seriously pressed' by Charles and his ministers, broke
down through a claim on the part of the Scots to what
was deemed an excessive representation in the British par-
liament. In January 1671 Stair was appointed president
of the Court of Session. In the following year, and again
in 1673, he was returned to parliament for Wigtownshire,
and took part in the important legislation of those years
in the department of private law. During the bad time
of Lauderdale's government Stair used his influence in the
privy council and with Lauderdale to mitigate the severity
of the orders jiassed against ecclesiastical offenders, but
for the most part he abstained from attending a board
whose policy he could not approve. Tn 1679 be went to
London to defend the court against charges of partiality
and injustice which had been made against it,_an() was
STAIR
445
thanketl by his brethren for his success. When in the
followin,^ year the duke of York came to Scotland, Stair
distinguished himself by a bold speech, in which he con-
gratulated the duke on his coming amongst a nation which
was entirely Protestant. This speech can have been little
relished, and the duke was henceforth his implacable enemy.
His influence prevented Stair from being made chancellor
in 1G81, on the death of the duke of Rothes.
The parliament of this year, in which Stair again sat,
was memorable for two statutes, one in private and the
other in public law. The former, relating to the testing
of deeds, was drawn by Stair, and is sometimes called by
his name. Although it is susceptible of some improve-
ment, the two centuries during which it has regulated this
important branch of practical conveyancing is a testimony
to the skill of the draftsman. The other was the infamous
Test Act, probably the worst of the many measures
devised at this period with the object of fettering the
conscience by oaths. Stair also had a minor share in the
form which this law finally took, but it was confined to
the insertion of a definition of "the Protestant "religion";
by this he hoped to make the test harmless, but his ex-
pectation was disappointed, and the form in which it
emerged from parliament was such that no honest man
could take it. Yet, self-contradictory and absurd as it
was, the Test Act was at once rigidly enforced. Argyll,
who declared he took it only in so far as it was consistent
with itself and the Protestant religion, was tried and
condemned for treason, and narrowly saved his life by
escaping from Edinburgh Castle the day before that fixed
for his execution. Stair, dreading a similar fate, went to
London to seek a personal interview with the king, who
had more than once befriended him, perhaps remembering
his services in Holland ; but the duke of York intercepted
his access to the royal ear, and when he returned to Scot-
land he found a new commission of judges issued, from
which his name was omitted. He retired to his wife's
estate in Galloway, and occupied himself with preparing
for the press his great work, 2'he Insiiiutions of the Law of
Scotland, which he published in the autumn of 1681, with
a dedication to the king.
He was not, however, allowed to pursue his legal studies
in peaceful retirement. His wife was charged with
attending conventicles, his factor and tenants severely
fined, and he was himself not safe from prosecution at
any moment. A fierce dispute arose between Claverhouse
and his son, the master of Stair, relative to the regality of
Glenluce ; and, both having appealed to the privy council,
Claverhouse, as might have been expected, was rtbsolved
from all the charges brought against him, and the master
was deprived of the regality. Stair had still powerful
friends, but his opponents were more powerful, and he
received advice to quit the country. _ He repaired to
Holland in October 1684, took up his residence, along
with his wife, some of his younger chiidren, and his
grandchild, afterwards the field- marshal Steir, at Leyden.
While tbere he published the Decisions of 'lie Court of
Session betiveen 1G66 and 1G71, of which J'.e had kept a
daily record, and a small treatise on naturpl philosophy,
entitled Fhysiologia Nova Experimentali^.
In his absence a prosecution for tre^nn was raised
against him and others of the exiles by Sir O. Mackenzie,
the lord advocate. He was charged with accession to the
rebellion of 1679, the Rychouse plot, an'l the expedition
of Argyll. With the first two ho had no lonnoxion ; with
Argyll's unfortunate attempt ho htd no doubt sympa-
thised, but the only proof of hi? complicity was slight,
and wae obtained by torture. The proceedings against
him wcra nevir brought to an issue, having been continued
by auccesftive adjournments 'antil 1687, when they were
dropped. The cause of their abandonment was the ap-
pointment of his son, the master of Stair, who had macle
his peace with .Tames II., as lord advocate in room of
Mackenzie, who was dismissed from ofiice for refusing to
relax the penal laws against the Catholics. The master
only held office as lord advocate for a 3'ear, when he was
" degraded to be justice clerk •' — the king and his advisers
finding him not a fit tool for their purpose. Stair remained
in Holland till the following year, when he returned under
happier auspices in the suite of William of Orange. William,
who had made his acquaintance through the pensionary
Fagel, was ever afterwards the firm friend of Stair and his
family. The master was made lord advocate ; and, on
the murder of President Lockhart in the following year.
Stair was again placed at the head of the Court of Session.
An unscrupulous opposition, headed by Montgomery of
Skelmorlie, who coveted the office ,of secretary for Scot-
land, and Lord Eoss, who aimed at the presidency of the
court, sprang up in the Scottish parliament ; and an anony-
mous pamphleteer, perhaps Montgomery himself or Fer-
guson the Plotter, attacked Stair in a pamphlet entitled
The Late Proceediiic/s of the Parliament of Scotland Stated
and Vindicated. He defended himself by publishing aq
Apology> which, in the opinion of impartial judges, was a
complete vindication. Shortly after its issue he was created
Viscount Stair. He had now reached the summit of his
prosperity, and the few years which remained of his old
age were saddened by private and public cares. In 1692
he lost his wife, the faithful partner of his good and evil
fortune for nearly fifty years. The massacre of Glencoe,
which has marked the master of Stair with a stain which
his great services to the state cannot efface, — for he was
undoubtedly the principal adviser of William in that
treacherous and cruel deed, — was used as an opportunity
by his adversaries of renewing their attack on the old
president. His own share in the crime was remote ; it
was alleged that he had as a privy councillor declined to
receive Glencoe's oath of allegiance, though tendered, on
the technical ground that it was emitted after the day
fixed, but even this was not clearly proved. But some
share of the odium which attached to his son was naturally
reflected on him. Other grounds of complaint were not
difficult to make up, which found willing supporters in
the opposition members of parliament. A disappointed
suitor brought in a bill in 1693 complaining of his
partiality. He was also accused of domineering over the
other judges and of favouring the clients of his sons.
Two bills were introduced without naming him but really
aimed at hini, — one to disqualify peers from being judges
and the other to confer on the crown a power to cppoint
temporary presidents of the court. The complaint against
him was remitted to a committee, which after full inquiry
completely exculpated • him ; and the" two bills, whoso
incompetency he demonstrated in an able paper addressed
to the commission and parliament, were allowed to drop.
He was also one of a parliamentary commission which
prepared a report on the regulation of the judicatures,
afterwards made the basis of a statute in 1695 supple-
mentary to that of 1672, and forming the foundation of
the judicial procedure in the Scottish courts down to the
present century. On November 29, 1695, Stair, who ]bad
been for some time in failing health, died in Edinburgh,
and was buried in the church of St Giles.
In the eamo year tnoro was piiblislied in London a small volunio
with the title A Vindication of the Divine Pcr/ectiaiu, Illustrati^uj
the aiory of Qod in them by Reason, and Revelation, melhodicaUij
digested, — By a Person of Honour. ' It was edited by the two
Nonconformist divines, 'William Bates and John Howe, wlio liad
been in exile in Holland along with Stair, and is undoubtedly bi«
work. Perhaps it had been a sketch of tbo "Inquiry Conccriiiug
Natural Theology" which ho had coutomplatod writinj; io 1681.
i46
S T A — S T A
ii is of no value as a theological work, for Stair was no more a
th<jologian than he was a man of science, but it is of interest a3
showing the serious bent of his thoughts aud the genuine piety of
his character.
It is as a legal writer and a judge that he holds a pre-eminent
\ia.ce amongst manj' distinguished coaiitrj'men belonging to his
IH-ofessiuii. The full title of his great work, which runs as follows —
T/ic InsUtMtions of the Law of Scotland, deduced from its Originals,
and collated with the Civil, Canon, and Feudal Laws and with the
Customs of Neighbouring Nations— \% fully borne out by the contents,
and affoids evidence of the advantage Stair had enjoyed from his
liliilosophieal training, his foreign travels, and his intercourse with
Continental jurists as well as English lawyers. It is no narrow
technical treatise, but a comprehensive view of jurisprudence
as based on philosophical principles aud derived from a Divine
Author. But neither does it lose itself in generalities; for it is
the work of a lawyer and judge intimately acquainted with every
detail in the practical application of law in his native country.
Unfortunately for its permanent fame aud use, much of the law
elucidated in it has now become antiquated through the decay of
the feudal part of Scottish law and the large introduction of English
luw, «»pacially in the departments of conimei-cial law and eqnitj-.
Kilt its spirit Etill animates Scottish law and educates Scottish
lan"yers, aud it may be hoped will continue to do so, saving them
from being the slaves of precedent or the victims of the utilitarian
Shilosophy which regards all positive law as conventional and
estitute of necessary principles derived from the uature of the
world aud mau.
The PhysioJogia, was favoutablj- noticed by Boj'le, and is inter-
esting as showing the activity' of mind of the exiled judge, who
returned to the studies of his youth with fresh zest when physical
ecience was approaching its new birth. But he was not able to
euiBueipate himself from formulae which had cramped the educa-
tion of his generation, and had not caught the light which Newton
tpread at this very time by the communication of his Principia to
tte Koyai Society of London.
Stair was fortunate in his descendants. "The family of
Dilrymple," observes Sir Walter Scott, "produced within two
ceutiu-ies as many men of talent, civil and military, of literary,
political, and professional eminence, as any house in Scotland."
His five sons were all remarkable in their professions. The
master of Stair, who became the first earl, was an able lawyer, but
ttill abler politician. Sir James Dalrymple of Borthwick, one of
the principal clerks of session, was a very thorough and accurate
historical antiqiiary. Sir Hew Dabymple of Xorth Berwick suc-
ceeded his father as president, and was reckoned one of the best
lawyers and speaJ °rs of his time. Thomas Dalrymple became
physician to Queeu Anne. Sir David Dalrymple of Hailes was
lord advocate under Anue and George I. Stair's grandson the field-
marshal and second earl gained equal credit in war and diplomacy.
His great-grandson Sir David Dahymple, Lord Hailes, also rose to
the bench, where he had an honoarable character for learning as a
civil and humanity as a criminal jadge. But his literary exceeded
his legal fame. As an honest and impartial historian he laid the
foundations of the true narrative of Scottish history, from which
all his successors have largely borrowed.
For n fnlleracconnt of the life of Stair, see Aimals o/ihe TTscovnt and First and
Second Earlt of Stair, by J. ilunty Graham, and Memoir KtfSir James Dafrympte,
Fint Yixotin'. Siair, 1S75, by S.. J. G. 5Iackay. (S. JI.)
STALYBRIDGE, a mtinicipal and parliamentary bor-
ongh of England, partly in Lancashire but principally in
Chesbire, is situated on the Tame, 1 mile east of Ashton-
nnder-Lyne, and 7J east of Manchester. The Tame is
crossed by bridges connecting the counties of Chester and
Lancaster. The principal public buildings are the town-
hall (1831), the Foresters' hall (1836), the district infir-
mary, the mechanics' institute (1861), the people's institute
(1864), the market-hall (1866), and the Oddfellows' hall
(1878). Stamford park, extending to about 60 acres, and
lying betvpeen Stalybridge and Ashton, was opened 12th
July 1873. The town is one of the oldest seats of the
cotton mannfactnre, the first cotton mill having been
erected in 1776 and the first steam engine in 1795. In
addition to extensive cotton mills, it possesses woollen
factories, iron and brass foundries, machine works, nail
■works, and paper mills. Stalybridge was created a market-
town in 1828, vas incorporated as a municipal borough
in 1857, and obtained the privilege of returning a mem-
ber to parliament in 1867. The municipal borough
(area 806 acres) had a population of 21,092 in 1871, and
22,785 in 1881 ; its limits were extended in ISSl to
8120 acres, with a population of 25,977. The population
of the parliamentary borough (area 2214 acres) in 1871
was 35,114 and in 1881 it was 39,671. The area added
to the municipal borough in 1881 was in 1885 included
in the parliamentary borough also, — the population of this
extended area being 42,863 at the census of 1681.
STAMFORD, a municipal borough aud inarket-lowu,
chiefly in Lincolnshire but partly in Northamptonshire,
is situated on the river Welland, and on braiiches of the
ilidland, the London and North Western, and the Great
Northern railway lines, 89 miles north of Londou and 55
south of Lincoln. The ancient bridge over the Welland
was in 1.849 superseded by a new structure of stone,
erected at a cost of £8500. The town formerly possessed
fourteen parish churches, but now has only six, viz., St
Mary's, erected at the end of the 13th ceutury, possessing
an Early English tower, with Decorated spire, the princi-
pal other parts of the building being Perpendicular ; AH
Saints, also of the 13th century, the steeple being built at
the expense of John Brown, merchant of the staple at
Calais, in the beginning of the 15th century ; St ilichael's,
rebuilt in 1836 on the site of one erected in 12G9; St
George's, Early English, Decorated, and Perpendicular, for
the most part rebuilt in 1450 at the expense of William
Bruges, firet garter king-at-arms ; St John Baptist's, Per-
pendicular, erected about 1452; and St Martin's, Perpen-
dicular, in which Lord Treasurer Burghley is buried.
Formerly there were several religious houses : — the Bene-
dictine monastery of St Leonard's, founded in the 7th
century, of which there are still some remains ; the Car-
melite monastery (1291), of which the west gate still
stands ; and houses for grey friars (time of Henry UL),
Dominicans (1240), Gilbertines (1291), and Angustinians
(1316). The principal secular buildings are the town-hall
(rebuilt 1776), the corn exchange (1859), and the literary
and scientific institute (1842), with a library of 6000
volumes. There are a large number of charitable iustitn-
tions, including the Stamford and Rutland infirmary
(1828), Browne's hospital,- founded in the time of Richard
IIL, Snowden's almshouses (1604), Truesdale's almshouses
(1700), and Burghley hospital^ founded by Lord Treasurer
I3urghley (1597). Ratcliffe's and Browne's high school
for boys was lately erected at a cost of £7000 on the site
of Ratcliffe's free school ; and Brown's school for girls in
St Martin's was erected in 1876 at a cost of £5000. The
prosperity of the town depends chiefly on its connexion
with agriculture. It possesses iron foundries, agricultural
implement works, waggon factories, and breweries. There
is also some trade in coal, timber, stones, and slates. The
population of the municipal borough (area 1766 acres) in
1871 was 7846 and in 1881 it was 8773; that of the
parliamentary borough (area 1894 acres) in the same
years was 8086 and 8993. The latter was merged in the
counties in 1865, giving its name to a parliamentary
division of Lincolnshire.
The town is of very remote antiquity, and is supposed to have
grown into importance after the decay of the Roman village of
Bridge C^sterton two miles distant. Its name, an early form of
which was Staenford, was derived from a passage at the- town
across the 'Welland by stone. It was the scene of the Erst battle .
of the Picts and Scots against the Britons and Saxons in 449,1
and subsequently became one of the five great Danish boronghi'
A castle was built early in the 10th century on the south bank of'
the river opposite the town, but has long disappeared ; and of
another on the north-west of the town, fortified by Stephen, only
the foundations now remain. The town was at one time enclosed
by walls, and there aie still traces of gateways on the east and west
sides. In the reign of Henry III. the lectures of the Carmelites
on divinity and the liberal arts led to the erection of colleges, aud
Stamford became celebrated as a place of education. A\'hen dissen-
sions arose among the students of O.Mford in the reign of Edward
III. many removed thither, and ultifflately the universities both
of Oxford and Cambridge thought it necessary to jiass statutes
prohibiting their students from proceeding to other places fur aujr
fart of t>ieir education, Stamforcl being specially mentioned in tlic
T A — S T A
447
■Oxfoctt stiitule At tUo time of tlio Cou^uest Sta:iiforJ w.is goyerueil
l>y (Uilennen. It w.is incorporated by clmiter in tlio loign of
EJwaiJ IV. Ill 1G63 it received a cliarter from Charles II.,
constituting its chief magistrate a mayor. It returned two
members to parliament from the rei;^ of Edward I. till 1S67, mid
.o«je from 1867 to ISSj. The deanery of Stamford is an ancient
peculiar, tbe appointment being vested in the bisliop of Lincoln.
STAMFORD, a borouijli of tbe United States, in
Fairfield county, Connecticut, is situated on Long Island
Sound, 3-3 miles nortb-east of Xew York city, on tlie New
York, New Haven, and Hartford Eailroad. It bas a small
harbour accessible to steamboats by means of a canal ; and
among its public buildings are the town-hall and several
handsome churches. Locks, carriages, stoves, fue-bricks,
edge-tools, cranes, hardware, hosiery, and especially log-
wood extract and liquorice are manufactured in the
borough. The population was 97 U in 1870 and 11,297
in 1880.
STAMMERING, or Stuttering, designates a spas-
modic affection of the organs of .<;peech in which the
articulation of words is suddenly checked and a pause
ensues, often followed by a repetition in rapid sequence of
the .particular sound at which the stoppage occurred. Of
this painful affection there are many grades, from a slight
inability to pronounce with ease certain letters or syllables,
■or a tendency to hesitate and to interject unmeaning
sounds in a spoken sentence, to the more severe condition
in which there is a paroxysm of spasms of the muscles,
not only of the tongue and throat and face, but even of
those of respiration and of the body generally. To under-
stand in some degree the explanation of stammering it is
necessary to consider shortly the physiological mechanism
of articulate speech. Speech is the result of various
muscular movements affecting the current of air as it
passes in expiration from the larynx through the mouth.
If the vocal cords are called into action, and the sounds
thus produced are modified by the muscular movements
of the tongue, cheeks, and lips, we have vocal speech ; but
if the glottis is widely open and the vocal cords relaxed
tbe current of air may still be moulded by the muscular
apparatus so as to produce speech without voice, or whisper-
ing (see Voice). In both cases, however, the mechanism
is very complicated, requiring a series of nervous and
muscular actioQs, all of which must bo executed with pre-
cision and in accordance. In vocal speech, for exanjple, it
is necessary that the respiratory movements, more espe-
cially those of expiration, occur regularly and with nice
adjustment to the kind of articulate expression required ;
that the vocal cords be approximated and tightened by
the muscles of the larynx acting with delicate precision,
so as to produce the sound of the pitch desired ; that the
rima r/loiti(is (or aperture of the larynx) be opened so
as to' produce prolonged sounds, or suddenly closed so as
to cut off tbe current of air ; that the movements of the
muscles of the tongue, of tbe soft palate, of the jaws, of
the cheeks, and of the li^s occur procisely at the right
time and to the requisite extent ; and finally that all of
these muscular adjustments take place with rapidity and
smoothness, gliding into each other without effort and
without icss of time. Exquisite co-ordination of muscular
movement is therefore necessary, involving also complicated
nervous actions. Hence is it that speech is acquired by
long and laborioiis effort. A child possesses voice from
tbe beginning ; it is born with the capacity for speech ;
but articulate expression is the result of education. In
infancy, not only is knowledge acquired of external objects,
and signs attached in the form of words to the ideas
thus awakened, but the nervous and muscular mechanisms
by which these signs or words receive vocal expression ato
trained by long practice to work harmoniously.
It is uot surprising, therefore,, tliat in certain CAsea,
oviug to some obscure congenital defect, the co-ordinatiou
is tot effected with sufficient precision, aud that stammer-
ing is the result. Even in severe cases no appreciable
lesion can be detected cither in the nervous or muscular
mechanisms, and the condition is similar to what may
affect all varietiej! of finely co-ordinated movements. The
mechanism does not work smoothly, but the pathologist is
unable to show any organic defect. Thus tbe co-ordinated
movements necessary in writing are disturbed in scrivener's
palsy, and tbe .skilful performer ou the piano or on any
instr-unent i-equiriiig minute manipulation may find that
he i° "osing the power of delicate adjustment. Stammer-
ing is occasionally hereditary. It rarely shows itself
before the age of four or five years, and as a rule it is
developed between this age and puberty. Jlen stammer
in a much larger proportion than women, ft may occur
during tbe course of nervous affections, such as hysteria,
epilepsy, or tabes dorsalis ; sometimes it follows febrile
disorders ; oftan it develops in a child in a feeble state
of health, without any special disease. In some cases a
child may imitate a stammerer and thus acquire the habit
Any general enfeeUement of the health, and especially
nervous excitement, aggravates tbe condition of a con-
firmed stammerer.
Stammerers, as a rule, find tbe explosive consonants h,
p, d, t, k, and bard </ tbe most difficult to articulate, but
many also are unable easily to deal with the more con-
tinuous consonants, such as v, /, (h, s, z, sh, m, n, y, and
iu severe cases even tbe vowels may cause a certain
amount of spasm. Usually the defect is not observed in
whispering or singing ; but there are exceptions to this
statement. In pronouncing tbe explosive sounds the part
of tbe oral apparatus that ought suddenly to open or close
remains spasmodically closed, and tbe stammerer remains
for a moment voiceless or strives pitifully to overcome the
obstruction, uttering a few successive puffs or sounds like
the beginning of the sound be wishes to utter. The lips
thus remain closed at tbe attempted utterance of h and p ;
the tip of the tongue is pressed against the hard palate or
the back of the upper front teeth in rfand t ; and the back
of the tongue presses against the posterior part of the
palate in pronouncing g hard and h. In attempting the
continuous consonants, in which naturally tbe passage is
not completely obstructed, tbe stammerer does not close
the passage spasmodically, but tbe parts become fixed in the
half-opened condition, or there are intermittent attempts
to open or close them, causing either a drawling sound or
coming to a full stop. In severe cases, where even vowels
cannot be freely uttered, the «pasm appears to be at the
riina fflottidis (opening of the larynx). Again, in some
cases, tbe spasm may affect the respiratory muscles, giving
rise to a curious barkiug articulation, in consequence of
spasn; of the expiratory muscles, and in such cases the
patient utters the first part of tbe sentence slowly, grad-
ually accelerates tbe speed, and makes a rush towards the
close. In the great majority of cases the spasm affects the
muscles of articulation proper, that is, those of tbe pharynx,
tongue, checks, and lips. In the most aggravated ca/ses
the condition of tbe patient is pitiable. It has thus been
well described by Dr Bristow in an article full of inter-
esting details : —
" The most distressing cases are those in which tlio spium
extends to ijarts unconnected with speech, — it may bo to nearly
tlio whole muscular organism. In such a ca-so tho spasm com-
mences, let us assume, at tho base of tho tongue ; tho mouth opens
widely and remains in that position ; tho inusclos of expiration
work convulsively ; the glottis contracts ; respiration bocomos
arrested ; tho fiica becomss congested and the veins dilated ; violent
spasmodic movements involve tho trunk and liuil<3; ami only after
some time, either wlien the pntient hcromes exhausted, or when
ho resolutely restrains his attompt.t to tirticulutc, docs his paroxyma
coiuD to on auii."—Quain't Xticlionary of MedieinCr'P' ibld%
448
S T A — S T A
Such a case is not common ; it is more paroxysmal than
habitual ; and in ordinary conversation, when the patient
is' free from nervous excitement, the defect may be scarcely
observed. A condition named aphthongia is even more
distressing. It totally prevents speech, and may, at
intervals, come on when the person attempts to speak ;
but fortunately it is__ only of temporary duration, and is
usually caused by exceptional nervous excitement. It is
characterized by spasm of the muscles supplied by the
hypoglossal nerve, including the sterno-hyoid, sterno-
thyroid, and thyro-hyoid muscles. In almost all cases of
stuttering it is noticed that the defect is most apparent
when the person is obliged to make a sudden transition
from one class of sounds to another, and the patient soon
discovers this for himself and chooses his words so as
lo avoid dangerous muscular combinations. When one
tonsiders the delicate nature of the adjustments necessary
In articulate speech, this is what may be expected. It is
Well known that a quickly diffusible stimulant, such as
alcohol, temporarily removes the difficulty in speecli.
Stuttering may be successfully overcome in some cases
by a careful process of education under a competent tutor.
Not a few able public speakers were at first stutterers, but
a prolonged course of vocal gymnastics has remedied the
defect. The patient should be encouraged to read and
speak slowly and deliberately, carefully pronouncing each
syllable, aud when he feels the tendency to stammer, he
should be advised to pause for a short time, and then by
a strong voluntary effort to attempt to pronounce the
word. He should also be taught how to cegulate respira-
tion during speech, so that he may not fail from want of
breath. In some cases aid may be obtained by raising
the voice towards the close of the sentence. - Sounds or
combinations of sounds that present special difficulties
should be made the subject of careful study, and the
defect may be largely overcome by a series of graduated
exercises in reading. The practice of intoning is useful, in
many cases. In ordinary conversation it is often import-
ant to have some one present who may by a look put -the
stammerer on his guard when he is observed to be talking
too quickly or indistinctly. Thus by patience and deter-
mination many stammerers have so far overcome the defect
that it can scarcely be noticed in conversation ; but even
in such cases mental excitement or slovenly inattention to
the rules of speech suitaHe for the condition may cause
a relapse. In very severe cases, where the spasmodic
seizures affect other muscles than those of articulation,
special medical treatment is necessary, as such are on the
borderland of serious nervous disturbance. All measures
tending to improve the general health, the removal of any
affection of the mouth or gums that may aggravate
habitual stammering, the avoidance of great emotional
excitement, a steady determination to overcome the defect
by voluntary control, and a system of education such as
has been sketched will do much in the great majority of
cases to remedy stammering. (j. g. m.)
STAMPS. The stamp duty is a tax imposed upon a
great variety of legal and other documents, and' forms a
branch of the national revenue. The stamp is a cheap
and convenient mode of certifying that the revenue regula-
tions have been complied with. Stamp duties appear to
have 'been invented by the Dutch in 1624. They were
first imposed in England in 1694 by 5 and 6 Will, and
Mary, c. 21, as a temporary means of raising funds for
carrying on the war with France. They now depend upon
a very large number of statutes, the principal one being
the Stamp Act, 1870, 33 and 34 Vict. c. 97 (which
extends to the United Kingdom). The amount of stamp
duty varies from one halfpenny (postage) to thousands
of pounds (probate or succession^. It appears scarcely
necessary in this place to set out at length the various
stamp duties payable in the United Kingdom, inasmuch
as those of the tuosX usual occurrence will readily be found
in ordinary books of reference.
Stamp duties are either fixed, such as the duty of one penny on
2very cheque irrespective of its amouut, or ad valorem, as the duty
on a couveyance, which varies according to tlie amount of the
j5urchase money. The duty is denoted generally by an impressed,
less frequently by an adhesive, stamp, sometimes by either at the
option of the person stamping. Thus an inland bill of exchange
(unless payable on demand) must have an impressed stamp, a
foreign bill of exchnnge an adhesive stamp, while an agreement or
receipt stamp may be of either kind. It should be noticed that cer-
tain documents falling within a class which as a rule is subject to
stamp duty are for reasons of public policy or encouragement of trade
exempted from the duty by special legislation. Examples of such
documents are Bank of England notes, agreements within § 17
(but not those Within § 4) of the Statute of Frauds (see Fraud),
agreements between a master of a ship and his crew, transfers of
ships or shares in ships, indentures of apprenticeship for the sea
service, petitions forwarded by post to the crown or a House of
Parliament, and most instruments relating to- the business of
building and friendly societies.
As a general rule a document must ibe stamped at the time of
execution, or a penalty (remissible by the commissioners of inland
revenue) is incurred. The penalty is in most cases £10, sometimes
much more ;in the case of policies of marine insurance it is ,£100.
Some instruments cannot be stamped at all after execution, even with
payment of the penalty. Such are bills of exchange and promissory
notes (where an iniprrtsed stamp is necessary), bills of lading,
]iroxies for voting at meetings of proprietorsof joint-stock companies,
and receipts after a month from date. An unstamped instrument
cannot be pleaded or given in evidence except in criminal proceed-
ings or for a collateral purpose. If an instrumont chargeable
with duty be produced as evidence in a court, the oflBcer whose
duty it is to read the instrument is to call the attention of the
judge to any omission or insufSciency of the stamp, and if the
instrument is one which may legally be stamped after execution,
it may, on payment of the amount of the unpaid duty and the
penalty payaole by law, and a fiirther sum of £1, be received in
evidence, saving all just exceptions on other grounds. The rules
of the Supreme Court, 1883 (Ord. xxxix. r. 8, re-enacting a
provision of the Common Law Procedure Act), provide that a new
trial is not to be granted by reason of the ruling of a judge that
the stamp upon any document is sufficient or that the document
docs ngt require a stamp. The stamp upon a document subject to
the stamp laws of a foreign state is usually admissible in evidence
in a court of the United Kingdom if it conform in other respects
to the rules governing the admissibility of such documents, even
though it be improperly stamped according to the law of the foreign
country. The admissibility of documents belongs to the ordinatoria.
litis rather than the decisoria litis, and is governed by the lex fori
rather than the lex loci contractus, unless indeed that law makes
a stamp necessary to the validity of the instrument. As to bills
of exchange, the Bills of Exchange Act, 1882, 45 and 46 Vict. c.
61, § 72, provides that where a bill is issued out of the United
Kingdom it is not invalid by reason only that it is not stamped
in accordance with the law of the place of issue, and that where a
bill issued out of the United Kingdom conforms as regards requisites
in form to the law of the United Kingdom it may for Ihe purpose
of enforcing payment thereof be treated as valid as between all
persons who negotiate, hold, or become parties to it in the United
Kingdom.
By the Stamp Duties Management Act, 1870, 33 and 34 Vict.
c. 98, the stamp duties are put under the management of the
commissioners of inland revenue, who are empowered to grant
licences to deal in stamps, and to make allowance for spoiled or
misused stamps. Certain offences, such as forging a die or stamp,
selling or using a foiled stamp, &c, , are made felonies punishable
with penal servitude for life as a maximum.
United States. — The subject of stamp duties is of unusual
historical interest, as the passing of Grenville's Stamp Act of
1765 (5 Geo. III. c. 12) dijectly led to the American revolution.
The Act was, indeed, repealed the next year as a matter of
expediency by 6 Geo. III. c. 11, but 6 Geo. III. c. 12 declared
the right of the British legislature to bind the colonies by its
Acts. The actual yield of the stamp duties under the Act of
1765 was, owing to the opposition in the American colonies, only
£4000 — less than the expenses of putting the Act into force. The
stamp duties of the United States are now under the super-
intendence of the commissioner of internal revenue. These
duties, which 'depend upon a great body of statutory law, will be
found in the Revised Statutes, tit. xxxv.
The principal authorities on the Bnbject of this article are Tileley, Stamp
Laics, and Dowell, Stamp Duties.
STANDARDS. See Weights and Measukes.
S T A — S 'J A
449
STANFIELD,WiluamClarkson (1794-1867), marine
painter, was boin of Irish parentage at Sunderland in 1794.
As a youth he was a sailor, and during many long voyages
be acquired that intimate acquaintance with the sea and
shipping which was admirably displayed in his subsequent
works. In his spare time ho diligently occupied himself
in sketching marine subjects, and so much skill did he
acquire that, after having been incapacitated by an accident
from active service, he received an engagement, about
1818, to paint scenery for the "Old Royalty," a sailor's
theatre in Wellclose Square, London. Along with David
Roberts he was afterwards employed at the Cobourg theatre,
Lambeth; and in 1826 he became scene-painter to Drury
Lane theatre, where he executed some admirable work,
especially distinguishing himself by the production of a
drop-scene, and by decorations for the Christmas pieces
for which the house was celebrated. Meanwhile he bad
been at work upon some easel pictures of small dimensions,
and was elected a member of the Society of British Art-
ists. Encouraged by his success at the British Institution,
where in 1827 he exhibited his first important picture —
Wreckers off Fort Kouge — and in 1828 gained a premium
of 50 guineas, he before 1830 abandoned scene-painting,
and in that year made an extended tour on the Continent.
He now produced his Mount St Michael, which ranks
as one of his finest works; in 1832 he exhibited his
Opening of New London Bridge and Portsmouth Har-
bour— commissions from William IV. — in the Royal
Academy, of which he was elected an associate in 1832
and an academician in 1835 ; and until his death on the
18th of May 1867 he contributed to its exhibitions a
long series of powerful and highly popular works, dealing
mainly with marine subjects, but occasionally with scenes
of a more purely landscape character.
Among these may be named— the Battle of Trafalo;ar (1836),
executed for the United Service Club; the Castle of Ischia (1841),
Isola Bella (1841), among the results of a visit to Italy in 1839;
French Troops Fording the JIargra (1847), the "Victory" Bearing
the Body of Nelson Towed into Gibraltar (1853), the Abandoned
(1856). He also executed 'two notable series of Venetian subjects,
one for the banquetiug-hall at Bowood, the other fbr Trentham.
Ho was much employed on the illustrations for The Picturesque
Annual, and published a collection of lithographic views on the
Rhine, Moselle, and Meuse ; and forty of his works were en-
graved in lino under the title of "Stanfield's Coast Scenery."
Four of his engraved pictures are in the National Gallery, and
his works may also be studied in the South Kensington Museum.
A large collection of his productions were included in the Royal
Academy's Winter Exhibition for 1870. The whole course of
Stanfield's art was powerfully influenced by his early practice
as a scene-painter. But, though there is always a touch of the
spectacular and the scenic in his works, and though their colour-
is apt to be rather dry and hard, they are largo and effective
in handling, powerful in their treatment of broad atmospheric
effects, and telling in composition, and they evince the most
complete knowledge of the artistic materials with which their
painter deals.
STANHOPE, Charles Stanhope, Tiimn Eakl (1753-
1816), was born on 3d August 1753, and educated under
the opposing influences of Eton and Geneva, devoting
himself whilst resident in the Swiss city to the study
of mathematics, and acciuiring from the associations con-
nected with Switzerland an intense love of liberty. He
contested the representation of the city of Westminster
without success in 1774, when only just of age; but from
the general election of 1780 until his accession to the
peerage on the 7th of March 1786 he represented through
the influence of Lord Shelburne the Buckinghamshire
borough of High Wycombe, and during the sessions of
1783 and 1784 he gave his support to the administration
of William Pitt, whoso sister Lady Hester Pitt he married
on 19th December 1774. When Pitt ceased to be inspired
by the Liberal principles of his early days, his brother-in-
law .severed their political connexion and opposed with oil
the impetuosity of his fiery heart the arbitrary raeasnrea
which the ministry favoured. Lord Stanhope's character
was without any taint of meanness, and his conduct was
marked by a lofty consistency never influenced by any
petty motives ; but his speeches, able as they were, had
no weight ou the minds of his compeers in the upper
chamber, and, from a disregard of their prejudices, too
often drove them into the opposite lobby. He was the
chairman of the " Revolution Society," founded in honour
of the Revolution of 1688, the members of which in 1790
expressed their sympathy with the aims of the French
republicans. He brought forward in 1794 the case of
Muir, one of. the Edinburgh politicians who were tran.s-
ported to Botany Bay, and in 1795 he introduced into the
Lords a motion deprecating any .interference with the
internal affairs of France. In all of these points he was
hopelessly beaten, and in the last of them he was in a
•" minority of one " — a sobriquet which stuck to him
throughout life, — whereupon he seceded from parlia-
mentary life for flve years. The lean and awkward figure
of Lord Stanhope figured in a host of the caricatures of
Sayers and Gillray, reflecting on his political opinions and
his personal relations with his children. His first wife
died on 20th July 1780, and he married on 17th Jfarch
1781 Louisa, daughter and sole heiress of the Hon. Henry
Grenville (governor of Barbados in 1746 and ambassador
to the Porte in 1762), a younger brother of the first Earl
Temple and George Grenville. Through his union with
this lady, who survived until JIarch 1829, he was doubly
connected with the family of Grenville. By his first wife
be had three daughters, one of whom was Lady Hester
Stanhope (see below), and his second wife was the mother
of three sons. Lord Stanhope died at the family seat of
Chevening, Kent, on 15th December 1816.
Earl Stanhope was elected a fellow of the Royal Society so
early as November 1772, and devoted a large part of his income
to experiments in science and philosophy. He invented a
method of securing buildings from fire (which, however, proved
impracticable), the printing, press and the lens which bear his
name, and a monochord for tuning musical instruments, suggested
improvements in canal locks, made experirhents in steam naviga-
tion in 1795-97, and contrived two calculating machines. When
he acquired an extensive property in Devonshire, he projected
a canal through that county from the Bristol to the English
Channel and took the levels himself. Electricity was another of
the subjects which he studied, and the volume of Principles of
Electricity which he issued in 1779 contained the rudiments of his
theory on the "return stroke" resulting from the contact with
the earth of the electric current of lightning, which wore afterwards
amplified in a contribution to the Philosophical Transactions for
1787. His principal labours in literature consisted of a reply to
Burke's 7!«/?crfions on the French Revolution (1790) and an Essay on
the rights of juries (1792), and he long meditated the compilation
of a digest of the statutes. His scientific theories, his mecuanical
experiments, and his studies in music'absorbed ail his thought^',
and for them ho neglected .his wives and his children. Hi^s
youngest daughter. Lady Lucy RachacI Stanhope, eloped with
Mr Tliomas Taylor of Sevenoaks, the family apothecary, and her
father refused to be reconciled to her, an inconsistency in a
republican which subjected him to a caricature from Gillray.
Lady Hester Stanhope abandoned her home and went to live with
her mother's relations. Lord Stanhope's high qualities were
marred by an impracticable disposition.
STANHOPE, Lady Hester Lucy (1776-1839), the
eldest child of the third Earl Stanhope (noticed above),
by his first wife Lady Hester Pitt, eldest daughter of the
first earl of Chatham, lived for the earlier part of her life
amid the surroundings of a noble mansion, or in close conv
munion with her uncle William Pitt, the most prominent
minister of his ago, and on his early death withdrew whilst
still young to brood over the past in the solitudes of Pales-
tine. She was born on 12th March 1776, and dwelt at
her father's seat of Chevening in Kent until early in 1800,
when his excitable and wayward disposition drove her to
her grandmother's hous« ut Burton Pynscnt. .\ year or
450
S T A — S T A
two later she ti-avelled abroad, but her cravings after
'distinction were not satisfied until she became the chief of
her uncle's Lousebold in August 1803. She sat at the
head of his table and assisted in welcoming his guests,
gracing the board with her stately beauty and enlivening
the company by her quickness and keenness of. conver-
sation. Although her brightness of style cheered the
declining days of Pitt and amused most of his political
friends, her satirical remarks sometimes created enemies
when more consideration for the feelings of her associates
would have converted them into friends. Lady Hester
Stanhope possessed great business talents, and when Pitt
was out of ofSce she acted as his private secretary. She
was with him in his dying illness, and some of his last
thoughts were concerned with her future, but aay anxiety
tvhich might have arisen in her mind on this point was
liispelled through the grant by a nation grateful for her
Uncle's qualities of a pension of £1200 a year, dating from
tOth January 1806, which Lady Hester Stanhopo enjoyed
ior the rest of her days. On her uncle's death she lived
.n Montague Square, London, but life in London without
the interest caused by associating with the pruicipal
t)oliticians of the Tory party proved irksome to hsr, and
iihe sought relief from lassitude in the fastnesses of Wales.
>Vhilst she remained on English soil happiness found no
|)lace in her heart, and her native land was finally
abandoned for the East in February 1810. After many
wanderings she settled on Mount Lebanon, and from this
solitary position she wielded an almost absolute authority
over the surrounding districts. Her control over the
natives was sufficiently commanding to induce Ibrahim
i?asha, when about to invade Syria in 1832, to solicit her
neutrality, and this supremacy was maintained by her
fommanding character and by the belief that she possessed
tne gift of divination. Her cherished companion Miss
Williams, and her trusted physician Dr Charles Lewis
IVIeryon, dwelt with her for some time ; but the former
•died in 1828, and the latter was not with Lady Hester
when she died. In this lonely residence, the villa of
Djoun, 8 miles from Sidon, in a house "hemmed in by
arid mountains," and with the troubles' of a household of
twenty-three servants, unregulated by a single English
attendant or friend and only, waiting for her aeath to
plunder the house. Lady Hester Stanhope's strength
blowly wasted away, and at last she died on 23d June
1839, aged si.xty-three. The disappointments of her life,
s»nd the necessity of overaweing her servants as well
as the chiefs who surrounded Djoun, had intensified a
temper naturally imperious. In appearance as in voice she
resembled her grandfather, the first Lord Chatham, and
4ie him she domineered over the circle, large or small, in
Which she was placed.
Some years after her death there appeared three volumes of
Memoirs of the Lady Ecstcr Stanhope as related hy Jicrsclf in Con-
iiersations with her Physician {i.e., Dr Meryon), 1845, and these
were followed in the succeeding year by three volumes of Travels
9/ Lady Hester Stanhope, forming the Completion of her Memoirs
narrated by her Physician. They presented a lively picture of
this strange woman's life and character, and contained many
•inecdotes of Pitt and his colleagues in political life for a quarter
»f a century before his death.
STAimOPE, Philip Doejieii, fourth earl of Chester-
tield. See CHESTEEFrELD.
STANISLAU (Pol. Stamslavof), the chief town in
the district of the same name in Galicia, Austria, on the
AJbrecht and Lemberg-Czernowitz railways, in 49° 4' N.
lat., 24° 30' E. long., has two real-schools, a gymnasium,"
and large ironworks. It has also a good trade in corn.
The population (1885) numbers 18,626.
gTANISLAUS (1677-1766), king of Poland. Stanislaw
Leszczynski or Leszinski was horn at Lemherg on October
20, 1677. His father, Raphael Leszczynski, was a Polish
nobleman, distinguished by his rank and the important
offices which he held, but still more by his personal
qualities. Stanislaus, after visiting the courts of Vienna,
Paris, and Kome, was raised to the dignity of voivode of
Posen, and in 1704 was sent as ambassador by the
assembly of- Warsaw to Charles XII. of Sweden, who
had just declared the deposition of the recently elected
Augustus II. The king was so greatly taken with the
ambassador that he recommended him to the diet as a
suitable candidate for the vacant throne ; the electioa
accordingly followed on 12 th July 1704, bat the corona*
tion of Stanislaus and his wife Catharina Opalinska did
not take place until 4th October of the following year
(compare Poland, vol xbc. p. 297). 'After the revei-se
of Poltava in 1709 Augustus returned to Poland, and,
assisted by the Russians, compelled Stanislaus to leave the
country. The next five years saw him leading a wander-
ing and somewhat adventurous life in Europe, one of his
objects being to procure a favourable peace for Charles
(compare Chaeles XII.). He then settled on Charles's
estate at' Zweibriicken, and after Charles's death in 1718
had a residence assigned to him by the French court at
Weissenburg in Alsace. In 1725 his daughter . ilaria
became the wife of Louis XV. of France. On the death
of Augustus in 1733 Stanislaus once more returned Ut
Poland, where a majority declared for him, but his com-
petitor, the young elector of Saxony, had the advantage
of the support of the emperor Charles \T!., and also of
the empress of Kussia. Dantzic, to which . Stanislaus
had retired, was quickly taken by the Russians and the
Saxons, and with great difficulty the unfortunate prince
succeeded in making good his escape in disguise, after
hearing that the Russians had set a price on his head. In
1736, when peace was concluded between the emperor and
France, it was agreed that Stanislaus should abdicate the
throne, but that he should be acknowledged king of Poland
and grand-duke of Lithuania, and continue to bear these
titles during life, and further, that he should be put in
peaceable possession of the duchies of Lorraine and Bar,
but that immediately after his death those duchies should
be united for ever to the crown of France. The remaining
years of his life were prosperous and happy. He died at
Lun6ville on February 23, 1766, in consequence of injuries
received from his nightdress accidentally taking fire.
Stanislaus, who -ras a patron of the arts and sciences, wrote severd
works in politics and philosophy, which were collected and published
at Paris in 1763, in 2 vols. 8vo, under the title CEuvres du Philosop/u
Bicnfaisant.- 'The CEuvres Choisies de Stanislas, Eoi de Polognc, thee
dc Lorraine et dc Par, with an historical notice by Madame d»
Saint-Ouen, were published in an 8vo volume at Paris in 1825.
STANISLAUS AUGUSTUS, the last king of Poland,
was born at Wolczyn in Lithuania in 1732 and died at
St Petersburg in 1798. See Poniatowski, vol. xbc i>. 453,
and Poland, vol. xix. pp. 297-8.
STANLEY, Aethue Pekehyn (1815-1881), dean of
Westminster from 1863, was born at Alderley in Cheshire
on December 13, 1815. His father, the Rev. E. Stanley,
rector of Alderley, bishop of Norwich from 1837 to 184 9, was
the j-ounger brother of Sir John Stanley of Alderley Park,
seventh baronet, who in 1839 was created Baron Stanley
of Alderley, and was the representative of a branch of the
same family as that of the earls of Derby. His mother,
C:tberine Stanley, was the daughter of the Rev. Oswald
Leycfcscer, rector of Stoke-on-Tem. Both parents were
ptibjrs of remarkable force and individuality of character.
The influence of each is to be traced in the career of theii-
son. It was his father's prayer as bishop of Norwich
" that he might be an instrument in God's providence of
extending more enlarged and more Christian views among
the clergy, end thus the means of di.s.seminating a wjdei
S 'J' A N L E Y
451
and nioro coiinircbonbive spirit of Christianity tUrougliout
tlic laud." Of bis mother her son not only spoke, after
her death in 1SG2, as "the. guardian genius" that "had
nursed his very mind and heart," but described her as
"gifted with a spiritual insight which belonged to that
larger sphere of religion which is above and beyond the
passing controversies of the day." Arthur was their third
child. His elder brother, Owen, died in 18.'50 at Sydney,
after concluding, as commander of the "Rattlesnake"
frigate, the survey of the Coral Sea. His sister Mary,
well known for her work in the hospitals at Scutari arid
among the poor in London, died in ISSO. Arthur was a
uhild of highly sensitive organization and precocious intel-
^ectual activity. His boyish letters, journals, and poems
•were singularly like in their characteristic points to his
i^ter writings. But his extreme shyness and silence gave
no promise of the social gifts which afterwards added so
/argely to his influence. At the age of fourteen his health,
at one time alarmingly delicate, so far improved as to
warrant his parents in sending him to Uugby, where Dr
Arnold had been recently appointed head master. He
remuined at Rugby from 1829 to 1834, and of all Arnold's
pupils may be said to have been the one who most fully
responded to the influence of his master's teaching and
character. In 1834 he became an undergraduate of Balliol
College, Oxford, having obtained a scholarship in the pre-
vious- year. Among his tutors at Balliol was Jlr Tait,
afterwards archbishop of Canterbury, and among his junior
fellow scholars Benjamin Jowett, afterwards professor of
Greek and master of BallioL Arthur Stanley, after obtain-
ing the Ireland scholarship and Newdigate prize for a
"xemarkable. iViglish poem (on the Gipsies), was placed in
the firbt cio-ss ii- 1837. In 1839, after a period of residence
and study at Oxford, lie was elected fellow of University
College, and in the same year was admitted to holy orders.
In 1840 he left England for a prolonged tour in Greece
and Italy, and on his return settled at O.^ford, where lie
resided from October 1841 for the next ten years, being
ajstiiely engaged dui'ing term time as tutor of his college.
He "very shortly bscame an influential element in univer-
sity life. His personal relations to his pupils were of a
singularly cloie and afEcctioaate nature, and tlie charm of
his social gifts and genial c'oaractcr won him friends on all
sides. His literary reputation was early established by the
profound impression made by his Life of Arnold, vfhose
sudden death had occurred in 1842, and whose biography,
published in 1844, at once secured for its young author
a high place among English writers. In 1845 he was
appointed select preacher, and published in 1847 a volume
of Hermons and Essays on the Apostolic Age, which not only
laid the foundation of his fame as a preacher, but also
marked his future position as a theologian. In university
l)olitics, which at that time wore mainly the form of
theological controversy, he from the first took the place
which he always retained of an iincompromiaing advocate
of comprehension and toleration. iVs an undergraduate he
had entirely sympathized with Dr Arnold in resenting the
agitation led by, but not confined to, the High Chiirch
party in 1836 against the appointmecat of Dr Hampden
to the regius professorship of divinity. As a young M.A.,
during the long-continued agitation wliich followed the
publication in 1841 bf Tract No. 90, and which ended in
tho withdrawal of tho present Cardinal Newman from
the English Church, he used all his influence to protect
from formal condemnation tho loaders and tenets of the
"Tractarian" party. In 1847 he did his utmost to resist
the movement sot on foot at OjJord against Dr Hampden's
appointment to the bishopric of Hereford. Finally, in
ISiiO, in an article published in tho Edinhui-gli Review in
',<lefeiice of the "Oorham judgment," which bad secured
the jiosition in the English Church of the E%-augelical
clergy, ho asserted two principles which he maintained to
the end of his life, — first, " that the so-called supremacy of
the crown in religious matters was in reality nothing else
than the sujiremacy of law." and, secondly, " that the
Church of England, by the very condition of its being, wac
not High, or Low, but Broad, and had always included,
and been meant to include, opposite and contradictory
opinions on points even more important than those at
present under discussion."
It was not only in theological but in academical matter*
that his sympathies were on the liberal side. Though on
many points of essentially conservative tendencies, he was
greatly interested in university reform, and to\\ards the
end of his residence at Oxford acted as secretai-y to the
royal commission appointed in 1850 to report ou and to
suggest improvements in the administrative and educa^
tional system of the university. Of the important changes
in both these respects which, in the face of much opposi-'
tion at the university, were carried out in due time under
the sanction of parliament by an executive commission,
Stanley, who took the prin-cipal share in drafting the
report printed in 1852, was a strenuous advocate. These
changes included the transference of the initiative ioi
university legislation from the sole authority of the heads
of Louses to an elected and representative bodj', the open-,
ing of college fellowships and scholarships to competition
by the removal of local and other restrictions, the non-
enforcement at matriculation of subscription to the Thirty-
nine Articles, and various steps taken to increase the
usefulness and influence of the professoriate.
Before the report was issued, Stanley, who had lost his
father in 1849, and both his brothers, Captain Stauley
mentioned above, and Charles, secretary to the governor
of Van Diemen's Land, within a few months of the same
date, was appointed to a canonry in Canterbury cathedral.
Ho held the office from 18.51 till his return to Oxford.
During his residence at Canterbury ho published his
ilemoir of his father Bishop Stanley (1851), and completed
his Comriientary on the Epistles to the Corinthians (1855).
In the winter and spring of 1852-53 he made the tour
in Egypt and the Holy Land, the result of which was his
well-kno\vn volume on Sinai and Palestine, first published
in 1856. In 1857 he travelled in Russia, and collected
much of tho materials for his subsequent Lcctmes on the
Greek Chttrch, published in 1861. His Memorials of
Canierburi/, published in 1855, displayed tho full maturity
of his power of dealing with the events, Bcenes, and
characters of past history which had marked him from
childhood. Towards the close of the same period he
accepted the ofiice of examining chaplain to Dr Tait, his
former tutor at Balliol and afterwards successor to Arnold
at Rugby, on his transference from the deanery of Carlisla
to the see of London.
At the close of 1856 i?tanley was appointed by tho
crown to tho professorship of ecclesiastical history, a post
which, with tho canonry at Christ Church attached to-tho
ofiice, he held till 1863. In the first of throe inaugural
lectures the new professor announced his intention ofi
beginning his treatment of tho subject with "tho first
dawn of the history of tho church," the call of Abraham;
and tho first two volumes of his History of the Jewish
Church, published in 1863 and 1865, coftsist of the
substance of lectures delivered by him in his capacity as
professor. In 1861 he published tho volume on tho G rook
Church already referred to. His second residence at
Oxford was maikod by the same power of winning per-
sonal influence which had distinguished him as a college
tutor, and by the eU'orts which he made, in his wider
sphere as professor, to bring together in social iutercounw
45*^
STANLEY
the lea3ers of the divergeut and hostile parties between
which the residents at the university were mainly divided.
Much, however, of his time and efforts was given to
religious controversy. From 1860 to 1864 academical and
clerical circles were agitated by the storm which followed
the publication of Ussays and Revieics, a volume to which
two of his most valued friends — Benjamin Jowett and Mr
Temple, the former professor of Greek at Oxford, the latter
head master of Rugby and afterwards bishop in succession
of Exeter and London — had been contributors. For the
exceedingly prominent part taken by Stanley in this excit-
ing controversy the reader is referred to the second and
third of his Essays on Church and State, collected and
published in 1870. The result of 'his action was greatly
to alienate the leaders of the High Church party, who had
joined a large portion of the clergy in their efforts to
procure the formal condemnation of the views ■ advanced
in Essays atul Reviews. In this and other questions, such
as in the growing controversy on the position of Prof.
Maurice at King's College, Cambridge, and on that caused
by Bishop Colenso's work on the Pentateuch, he had taken
np a position which brought him into conflict wth a large
portion of the religious public. It should be added that
in the last year of his professoriate (1863) he had published
a Letter to the Bishop of London, strongly advocating a
large relaxation of the terms of clerical subscription to the
Thirty-nine Articles and Prayer-JiDok. ■, An important Act
amending the Act of Uniformity, and carrying out in some
degree Stanley's proposals, was passed in the year 1865.
In the spring of 1862 Stanley, at the queen's desire, had
accompanied the prince of Wales on a tour in Egypt and
the Holy Laud. During his absence be lost his mother,
the heaviest domestic bereavement that had yet befallen
him. His sense of his debt towards her has been already
indicated. It stands recorded in his volume of Memorials
of Edward and Catherine, Stanley.
Towards the close of the following year he was appointed
by the crown to the deanery of Westminster, in succession
to Deau Trench, raised to the see of Dublin. In December
he married Lady Augusta Bruce, sister of Ixird Elgin,
then governor-general of India, herself one of the queen's
most trusted friends., In January 1864 he entered on
the duties of his new ))ost.
His tenure of the deanery of Westminster was memor-
able in many ways. He recognized from the first two im-
portant disqualifications, — his indifference to music and his
Blight knowledge of architecture. On both these subjects
he availed himself largely of the aid of others, and threw
himself with characteristic energy and entire success into
the^task of rescuing from neglect, preserving from decay,
and commending to the interest of all classes of his
countrymen the treasure of historic monuments in which
the abbey is so ricL No visitor can pass through the
building, now so often thronged with crowds of the work-
ing classes, the mere" possibility of attracting whom was
spoken of before a royal commission so lately as 1841 as
quite chimerical, without recognizing the successful result
of his indefatigable labours. The monument to the
brothers Wesley, the inscription on- the gi-avestone of Liv-
ingstone, and the restored altar in her husband's chantry
in which he placed the neglected remains of Catherine
of Valois, the queen of Henry V., may be named among
the innumerable and ubiquitous records of his wide
sympathy and historic ardom-. Within tliree years of his
appointment he published his Memorials of Westminster
Abbey, a work which, although not free from occasional
inaccuracies, is a mine of information conveyed in the most
picturesque aud impressive form. He was a constant
preacher, and gave a great impulse to the practice already
begun of inviting distingsifdied preachers to tha abbey
pulpit, especially to the evening services in the nave which'
had been established under his predecessor.- It is to him
that is largely due the vast increase in the number not of
visitors only but of worshippera in the abbey. He began
the practice, since continued by others of the abbey clergy,
of devoting his Saturday afternoons to conducting parties
of working men round the abbey and collegiate buildings.
His social and personal influence, already unique of its
kind, was enormously increased by his removal to London?
His circle of friends was constantly widening, and extended
from the queen and royal family to the working men of
London and elsewhere, some of whom he inspired with a
singular devotion. It included men of every denomina-
tion, every class, every part of the United Kingdom, and
almost of every nation. He was untiring in literary work,
and, though this consisted very largely of occasional papers,
lectures, articles in reviews, addresses, and sermons, it in-
cluded a third volume of his History of the Jewish Church,
a volume on the Church of Scotland, another of Addresses
and Sermons preached in America, and an exceedingly
important volume, completed mthin a few. months of his
death, on Christian Institutions.
He was continually engaged in theological controversy,
and, if his advocacy of all efforts to promote the social,
moral, and religious amelioration of the poorer classes and
his chivalrous courage in defending those whom he held
to be unjustly denounced won him the warm admiratiop
of many of his countrymen, he undoubtedly incurred
much and growing odium in influential circles. Among
the causes of offence might be enumerated, not only his
vigorous defence of one from whom he greatly differed.
Bishop Colenso, but his invitation to the holy communion
of all the revisers of the trauslation of the Bible, including
a Unitarian among other Nonconformists, as well as the
whole tone and teaching of almost every page of his
publications. Still stronger was the feeling caused by his
efforts to make the recital of the Athanasian Creed optional
instead of imperative in the English Church.
In' 1874 he spent part of the winter in Rus3ia,'whither
he and Lady Augusta had gone to take part in the marriage
of the duke of Edinburgh. In the spring of 1876, after
a long and lingering illness, he lost his wife, the zealous
partner of all his social and charitable efforts, and the con-
stant cheerer and sympathizer in his many labours and
conflicts. It was a terrible blow, and one from which he
never entirely recovered. But in 1878 he was deeply inter-
ested by a tour in America, and in the following autumn
visited for the last time, with his sister, Mary Stanley, who
died before the close of the same year, northern Italy and
Venice.
In the spring of 1881 he preached funeral sermons in
the abbey on 3Ir Carlyle and Lord Beaconsfield, winding
up with the latter a series of Sermons preached on Public
Occasions! mainly on the death or funeral of eminent
Englishmen, which form a volume singularly characteristic
of his special gifts. He saw also the completion of the
latest of his volumes, that already mentioned on Christian
Instittttions, and was in the course of the summer correct-
ing for the press a paper on the Westminster Confession,
and preaching in the abbey a course of Saturday Lectures
on the Beatitudes.' On July 10 he was attacked by a
sudden illness, which in a few days assumed a more alarm-
ing character, and ended fataUy on the 18th. The sensa-
tion caused by his death was profound and widespread.
He was buried in Henry Vil.'s chapel, in the same grave
as his wife. His pall-bearers comprised representatives
of literature, of science, of both Houses of Parliament,
of theology, Anglican and Nonconformist, and of the
tiniversitiea of Oxford and Cambridge. The recumbent^
monument placed upon the spot, and the windows ia tie
STANLEY
45^
chapter house of the abbey, one of them a gift from the
4uee^ were a tribute to his memory from friends of every
cla^s in England and America. , , , v
1'he influence of Dean Stanley was no doubt large y due to his
J^elous social gifts. His affectionate nature, lisnmck and
^?^ Ivmnathy his keen interest in almost every field of know-
Z^ Tol mental resources, drawn from i-eesant readmg and
Inrfched bv travel, observation, and conversation, his familiarity
?,^ h the persons places, events, and scenes of history, his tenacious
;f<i':rrUn^ memory, hs vivacity and ^-our the v^^
charm of his countenance and manner, the delicately sensitive
?acc"the eye now beaming with sympathy, now twmkhng with
humoui "acted like a spell in >vinning friends and even m con-
cUiatr- opponents. The courage and fearlessness ^ith which he
was aVv'^vs ready to uphold the cause of those whom he held to be
nfi^tlv attacked by a powerful ov dominant loajonty was duly
"^"ciiteTbyMscLntfyinen, It may P-^f;/,^b^-^tt";f
one in the present century was so endeared t" ^o ^rge a cu^c^ol
pergonal friends in all parts of the cmlized world ^i^J^^f^
ilso ai.art from their controversial aspect, were of a singularly
ISkct ve kind His Li/c of A,-nold, his Shmi a-,xd Palcline,h^
1^^^ on Te Jewish Church, his McmoHah o Canterbur)' and o
U ^ini^duaFity and a characteristic flavour which is saved from
Lmier^m by au^inexhaustible freshness of view and a n^arvellous
b=ie1 ?oti^m1;^L:;teaS:iT^^^^^^^^^^^ at^nc:
Cefon the main features of an historic building or a famous
W in E iRlaud. Throughout his writings m prose or poetry, on
almost evrv subject which he touched, we see the impress, not
:'„T;of his'distii^ctive genius and of .I'-.-f ^ZTb^ welUo
also of his special views, aims, and aspirations. It may be well to
rt^^sgtrwrhteCn:reof^^gS
;^^derr™cl"'a"tali1uc,:omUnsivea^^^^
tt^Jvfe^f^sIrlinT^^^^^^^
Snolvet presented its final or its most perfect aspect to the
v^ld"- tlat ''the beUef of each successive age of CWtendom
oTrXleTut-hitttlfftitwas^^^^
-s^rytvrinHfi:?.r^~"v.t^^^^^
Alreaay even ID i J volumes on the Jevnsh Church,
wSr.V"^n1hedom'aiLofactuauUvationandhistor^^
aXto res°c,fe them from "the conventional ha.e .n^hichtey
l.nfl hBPn veiled bv a uiisp oced reverence. Hio lirst auty oi a
of discoveriuo what it actually contains. In a la tniui snioy
of tS Tri^^n mine the yet insuflTiciently CTplorcd records of
?L OM aTNerTettameut, lay," he held "the best hope of he
chnrcl of Christ,- and another and a different cs imato of t^ie
iioiuts on wl.icl, 8ci ipluro lays its most emphatic stress. To this
Itndv he looked for he best hope of such a progressive develop-
mei.1 0 Cbnstiar theology as should avert the danger arising from
"the aware; Uv incre^fing .bvergence between the "'toll.gence
and theViUh «.f our time," '' und silould enable the church to dea
^^Uely V ^ .ew questions which ancient theology had for the most
;?rlL\even con'sideicd." On »>- J'-cUonwh^ch this develop^
uient of theology should assume the last word had not, no Know,
been spoken ;" but he enforced the duty " Of placing xn the lack-
ground whatever was accidental, temporary, or secondary, and o^
bringing into due prominence what was primary and essential
In the former group Stanley would, without doubt or hesitation
have placed all questions connected with Episcopal or Presbyteiian
orders, or that ^eal only ^rith the outward fonns or ceremonies ol
reUgion, or with the authorship or age of the books of the Old
Tes^meut. ' Even to the question of miraculous and external
evidence he would have been inclined to assign a secondary place,
as well as to the most elaborate statements of Chnstian doctnne.
The foremost and highest place that of the " essential and
supernatural" elements of religion he would ^ave reserved for ita
moral and spiritual truths, "its ch.e evidence and chief essence
" the truths to be drawn from the teaching and from the hfe oj
Christ " in whose character he did not hesitate to recognize the
Neatest of all miracles." On a lar«e development of Chnsttan
teaching in this direction he based afl hia hopes abke of the pro-
gress ot the world and of the restitution to Christian tlieo o^-
'■as something greater and vaster than the t-heology of each
particX chufeh^rage," "as comprehending aU the wholesome
element of thought atVork in the world "_^f " its natural ascnd-
ency over the minds of educated men.
With such views it was not to be wondered at that fiom fim to
last, he never lost an opportunity of supporting a policy of mdth
toleration, and comprehension in the Church of Eng and. The
view which he took in his earliest directly controvemal work, his
EZyon the Q^har,^ Judg„^nt (1850), as ^^gar.f J, ^"^^'^ V™'»=;
tion offered by the law to the clergy against the inoui^ition of
arbitrary prelates and of tumultuous synods, and on the
desiSy^Ued and comprehensive character of he EngMi
fo3arie's and English Chu'rch," has al-dy been fid yind^ated^
The same spirit and the same aims gmded bis line of conduct in
other controversies, such as in that on the Essays andRemews,^
the ritualisSc movement, on the question of ="bscnption, on the
successive attacks made on men so wholly different from each
XerTs Prof. Maurice, whose influence on the mmd of hi3 gene-
ration has yet to be flilly estimated, and Bishop Colenso and m
Hs vain but earnest advocacy of *e optional instead of the com-
masoTv^e of the Athanasian Creed. So again he was always
Cno^nsist on the essential points of union between janou.
Smi^ations of Christians, however apparently divided or
estranged; and to recognize the special services conferred on the
world not only by the Eastern, the Roman, the Lutheran, and the
Keir^ied Chirches, not only by the Presbyterian Chuxch^ o
Scotland, but also by the Baptist and Congregational Churches of
En-land and America, and By the community of Quakers And,
wMle in this respect he was keen almost to o^c-^ss to note point,
of agreement, so in the very latest volume which he pubbshed
one of his main abns was "to Idok the facts of history in the
face" and to point out "the almost universal departure from
pi^tive uLe!" "the transformation both of letter and spint
through whicl the greatest Christian ordinances had already
r,3" and "to fix the eye steadily on the germs of truth that
^^e common to the differ'ent forms ^.I'ioh tSe ordmances wore
rhe moral and spiritual realities for the sake of which (done (if
Christianity be the universal religion) such forms exist. He was
^CgC7 Ms me ar^'fli^c?i.g advocate of the connexion
betw^n church and state. By this he under8tood-(l ) the
reco^ition and support on the part of .the^sUte of the jeligio^
expression of the faith of the community, and (2) tbat this
reC'ous expression of the faith of the community on the most
^cr?d and most vital of aU its interests ^should be controlled and
^Tdedby the whole community through t^e. ^"Py^^^^^y of law
fn the supremacy of the crown, i.e. , of laW, over all causes and all
persons, Ecclesiastical as well as civil," so far (^"^J^f'^S" S^^S
chains" or "ignominious bondage," ho welcomed it not only as
beta" " the most powerful and inteUigent organ of the whole com-
mTnTty," but on two other grounds. Fust he considered that
supremacy more likely " to be tinily wise and t™!? J"^' and there
fore truly Christian than the headship either of a bishop or ofa
synod of any clerical or sectional body,* and, secondly, "a^ thobMt
eecuritv for that gradual growth »f rcbgious forms and religions
opta ons, and for tTiat free^xpression of fndividual belief, which is
S^nsable to any health^ do.yeloi.ment of ^ebg.ous We^d
rpliirious truth " At the same time he was in favoiu: of making
h S of the chtrch as wide aa possible,-" not nar«.werth^
that which is even now the test of'its membership, the Apostles
Creed '^and of throwing down all barriers which could bo wisely
diTpenaed^th to admi^ion to its ---^^^y- ,,^iZZZ^^ol
step ho even advocated as "an unmixed good '''<' admiMion
one of the noblest works which God's providence, through s long
454
STANLEY
course of years has raised up m Europe," "ou the most venerable
growth of English history, the framework which has sheltered
down to this time the freedom of the freest, the teachine of the
most learned, and the reason of the most rational church in
Christendom. He believed that the "success of such au attack
would result m throwing away the best opportunity which the
world affords for the growth side by side of inteUectual activity
and religious earnestness"; that to destroy it would be as he
said of the Established Church of Scotland, "to destroy, so far as
human efforts can destroy, the special ideas of freedom, of growth
of comprehension, which are inherent in tlie very existence of a
national church"; that its destruction would only produce "an
enslaved clergy amidst an indifferent laity," and tend to degrade the
l^hurcli ot England from its historic position "to that of an illiterate
sect, or a satellite of the Church of Rome."
"With such views it was impossible that Stanley could have found
mucfi sympathy from either of the two great parties among the
English clergy. Indeed it was impossible that any party, or any
community, which placed the essence of Christianity in the careful
guardianship. of any circle of theological doctrines could feel in
harmony with one who dwelt with such exceeding and growin<T
emphasis on the secondary nature, not only of all that was cere-
monial, but on much that was dogmatic, as compared with that
which was spiritual and moral.
By the "Evangelical" section of the religious world tie bio-
grapher of Arnold had been looked on from the first with more
than suspicion. Later on, even the? mode and form of his defence
of their own side in the Gorham controversy, his avowed advocacy
of a wide freedom of thought on many questions, especially fhose
connected with Biblical criticism, his attitude towards such sub-
jects as inspiration, justification, and future punishment, were
more than distasteful. His loud acknowledgment of the debt owed
by Christendom to German theology, "to the most laborious, truth-
seeking, and conscientious of Continental nations," his persistent
claims for a place within the Church of England for views that
"went to the verge of Kome," the more thanjvidth— the universality
—of his religious sympathies, his delight in placing, not Walter
Scott only, or Tennyson, or the author of Ecce Uamo, but Goethe,
and Burns, and Matthew Arnold, and J. Stuart Mill in the ranks
of religious teachers, were naturally repugnant to those who cared
to read his works, and were not content to shrink in silent dismay
from the warm sympathizer with Professor Maurice, the enthusi-
astft admirer of F. Robertson, and the apologist in turn of Essays
and Reviews and of Bishop Colenso.
Against the feelings provoked by this aspect of his theological
position, neither his acknowledged services to Biblical study, nor
his profound and entire belief in the true key to the difficulties of
the future being involved in ths prosecution of that study, nor his
sympathy with their own views as to the relation of the individual
soul to God, nor his repeated, his almost daily assertions of the
sacredness and value of the gospel history, or of the regenerative
power of the Divine life and person of Christ as the "one Master
•worth living for, worth dying for," could avail much. Whatever
the feelings of individuals, the organs of the party of whose once
imperilled claim to remain within the fold of the Church of
England he had been the staunchest upholder spoke of him from
first to last with almost unqualified aversion. He was, or became
in due time, even more obnoxious to at least the more advanced
section of the High Church party. Nor was this to be wondered
at The differences between him and them were vital and funda-
mental; and, even where he defended their right— at one time
repeatedly chaUenged— to maintain their distinctive views and
observances in the Church of England, he rested their claim on
grounds which would hardly win their approval or gratitude
The more clear-sighted of their leaders felt that, if the pointe of
ceremonial, of dress, posture, attitude, ritual, on which they laid
exceeding stress, were treated by him with toleration, they were
regarded with an indifJerence that verged upon contempt, as
tolerahtles ineptiec, and that he delighted to trace their historical
development, and to strip them of all that was essential signi-
ficant, or primitive. They felt even more strongly that in that
which, to the leaders at least, gave their real interest and im-
portance to all questions of vestments or observances, and- even
underlay sone of the most importunt questions of religious doc-
trine,—the very existence of an order of priesthood as the divinely
and eiclusively commissioned channel of communication between
God anu man,— the rejection on the part of Stanley of their most
cherished and central dogma was absolute and uncompromising.
And the difference of view was vital. Much else in his writings
might have been welcomed or condoned. His love for the past,
his deep and full sympathy with much-in the medisval church,
his warm admiration for many of its saints and heroes, his aversion
to mere iconoclasm, his poetic and ima^native sensibility had
much to attract them. Even in his treatment of many important
religious subjects it was often not so much his actual sentiments
as the tendency— the more than tendency, the avowed aim— of all
hia writings to promote fi'eedom of inqtiiry and of thought, rather
than submission to church authority, which provolted hostility.
But on this question there was no room for compromise. That
which they and he alike recognized as the fundamental tenet to
which all their distinctive teaching pointed he spoke of as a belief
"that they (the clergy) were the depositaries of mystical, super-
natural, almost magical influence, independtnt of any moral or
spiritual graces, "and ou this point he spokewith no doubtful voice.
It was, he said, this belief in a "fixed, external, necessary medinm
oa earth between the soul and God which, if he had rightly read
the Psalms of David, the epistles of Paul and the gospel of Christ,
true religion is always striving to dispens.i with," and "the more
It can be dispensed wth, the nearer and the higher is the com-
munion of the human spirit with its Maker and its Redeemer."
And this language (used in 1867) was in entire accordance with the
manner in which in his latest volume (1881) he hinted at the possi-
bility of "the growing materialism of the ecclesiastic sacristy sa
undermming the spiritual element of almost the only external
ordinance of Christianity (the Eucharist), unquestionably the
greatest religiou.s ordinance in the world," "as even to endanger
the ordinance itself." In addition to this fundamental divergence
of view, it must be remembered that it was to this party, as the
representatives of one "always forgetful in its gratitude and im-
placable in its vengeance," that he looked for the main danger to
freedom of thought and width of comprehension in the futnrek
and that he did not hesitate to remind them, even as he supported
their claims to the largest possible intei-pretation of the Articles,
that they " claimed a latitude themselves which they constantly
refused to others." It will be easily understood therefore that
whatever influence Stanley wielded in the church was wholly in-
dependent of either of the two great parties into which he found it
mainly divided, above all of that which at-tbe time of his death
appeared to be every year growing in power and confidence.
_ TV hat was the extent, what the permanent force of his own
influence, is a question not easily answered at present. "Dean
Stanley," said Dr Story, "stood higher in the respect and affection
of a larger and more varied circle of members of many churches
than any ecclesiastic in the world." It is not easy to disengage
his personal and social charm, the affection borne him by all who
had even momentarily passed mthin the circle of his striking and
attractive individuality, the warm feelin(;s which much iu his
life, much in his writings, had called forth from multitudes who
never saw him, from the more abiding impression made during his
lifetime and after his death by the writings which he has left
behind him. Yet if, setting aside one single name, that of Prof.
Maurice, he be taken as the most prominent, the most fertile, the
™°st gifted, and the most impressive exponent and defender of
liberal theology, some estimate may be formed evei} now of the
mark which he made upon his age. It would be easy to under-
value the effect of the work which ho did. It might seem at firs^
sight as if his own gloomier anticipations had been fulfilled. He
spoke from time to time of a danger of the age being overwhelmed,
now by "a general return of forgotten superstitions," now "by a
general chaos of incredulity," and of himself as "having perhaps
done no more than make good a starting point for those who come
after us, perhaps in the 20th or 21st century." He might have
seemed to enter into the spirit of his father's words, " My only
hope and consolation is that I am- a pioneer for better days, and
that the seed which I aim, as far as can be, at sowing may bring
toTth fruit when I am gone to a better and more peaceful world.*.
But such a view would be to a large extent superficial. If the
success achieved by the cause of which Stanley was the main
representative is carefully weighed, it will be found to be great in
solid and direct results, far greater probably in those which are
less easily summed up and tabulated. On the questions which be
had most at heart, the real and careful and critical study of tlio
sacred records, the progress made since he first lectured as a tutor,
at Oxford on the Old and Kew Testaments has been enormous.'
The large majority of the works published have been written
more or less in the spirit in which he would have largely or
entirely sympathized. It may be added that of these there are
few which would not have encountered, if not fierce criticism, yet
at least grave suspicion, some forty years ago. The combination
of a reverent treatment of Holy Scripture with fearless inquiry
into all questions connected with its criticism is a new birth in
English literature. It is one in which he took a leading part, and
iu the defence of which he bore, sometimes in his own behalf,
oftener in chivalrous defence of others, much of the brunt of the
earlier and later contests. The impulse which he gave to the
study alike of the Bible and church history was a great one. In
each he may be recognized, not of course as the originator, but as
the representative, of a new school of thought and of treatment,
and those who are most familmr with his writings can hardly open
a new book by any English theologian, hardly read a sermon of
many preachers, above all on any portion of the Old Testament,
in which they do not trace his immediate influence. He may be
said in a very trne sense to colour the WTitings of many of those
who most Jiffer from him, ^^The subjects to yhici ho looked as
S T A — S T A
45b
the most essential of all — the' universality of the Divine love, tlie
supreme importar ;e of the moral and spiritual elements of religion.
the supremacy of conscience, the sense of the central citadel of
Christianity as being contained in the character) the history, the
spirit of its Divine Founder — have beyond doubt, if not yet taken
fully the place which he claimed for thera. yet impressed them-
selves more and more on the teaching and the preaching of every
class of clerCT in the church. They have lifted the teaching of those
who most differed from him far above the level of a mechanical
or merely ceremonial form of incdia;val worship. The great cause
too for which he strove so hard, that of comprehension and mutual
toleration, the true "enlargement of Christ s church," has gained
much from his efforts, — much in the present, and perhaps, in spite
of some appearances to the contrary, more in the future. What-
ever storms of party strife may be in store for the church, active
nud energetic Christians of opposite parties no longer waste tlieir
onergies in mutual attacks, but have learned to work together in
Christian teaching and in works of Christian beneficence. His
surviving friends may rejoice to remember that no one person had,
for, it may be, many generations, done so much as Stanley to draw
together in friendly and social intercouree the leaders of various
religious parties and of different denominations of Christians.
Those \yho live, and feel that they live, in an age of transition
cannot venture to prophesy the precise form and colour of the
religions movement which will in due time succeed that which now
seems to be the most prevalent and the most outwardly active.
But they may be permitted to hold that its main features were
descried and anticipated, even if dwelt on with excessive emphasis,
by Stanley, — to believe that the next phase of a Christian theology
which shall regain a due ascendency over the thought and intelli-
gence of the civilized world will be embodied in some larger
realization of "the one unchangeable element in Christianity," of
the witness borue by the teaching and life of Christ to the higher
and spiritual nature and destinies of man and to the "principles
of freedom, justice, toleration, beneficence, self-denial, universal
sympathy, and fearless love of truth, in which all the hopes of a
true and permanent development of Christian theology must take
their stand." None will have laboured more earnestly in this cause
than Arthur Stanley. (G. G. B.)
STANTON, Edwm M'Masters (1833-1869), American
statesman, was born in Ohio, December 19, 1814, graduated
at Kenyon College in 1833, and was admitted to the bar
of his native State. Just at the end of Buchanan's ad-
ministration in 1860-61, Stanton was called upon to act
as attorney-general. In 1862, after the inauguration of
Lincoln, the new president, who had had great difficulties
with his war office, placed Stanton at its head, where he
■was at home at last. His intense vigour, excellent organ-
izing powers, and scrupulous honesty were the life of the
Federal war department throughout the Civil War ; and
it may be worth while to note that, after living through
boundless opportunities of peculation, he died, like most
of the public servants of the United States, a poor man.
In spite of his many services to the country, it was not
always easy for his associates to get on with him com-
fortably ; and his quarrels with President Johnson were
especially bitter in 1867-68, ending in the impeachment
of Johnson by the House of Representatives. On the
acquittal of the president Stanton resigned, and resumed
the practice of law. . President Grant, in 1869, made him
a justice of the supremo court ; but his work during the
war had worn him out, and he died December 24, 1869.
STAEAYA RUSSA, a district town of Russia, in the
government of Novgorod, 62 miles to the south of that
city, on the river Folist, by means of which and Lake
Ilmeii it is brought into easy steamer communication with
St Petersburg. Some brine springs, of no great strength,
on the eastern side of the town, were used as a source for
the supply of salt as late as 1865, yielding about 50,000
cwts. annually ; at present they are used only as mineral
waters, having a great resemblance to those of Kreoznach.
Some thousands of visitors resort to then) every summer,
and owing to this circumstance Staraya Eussa is better
built and kept than any other town in Novgorod. The
13,100 inhabitants are supported chiefly by the summer-
visitors. About 100 individuals in all employ themselves
in brick-making, tanning, and sawing timber, and there
is a trade in rye, oats, and flax shipped to St Petersburg
to the value of about £50,000 per annum.
Tlie name of Staraya Kussa occurs in the Russian annah as far
back as 1167. It was one of the minor towns of the republic of
Novgorod, and Buffered continually in the wars for possessiou of
the region between Russia, Lithuania, and Lirouia. It was after-
wards annexed to Moscow.
STARCH is aa organized product of the vegetable
kingdom, forming one of the most important and
characteristic elements of plant life, and an abundantly
stored reserve material for the discharge of vegetative
functions. It originates within the living vegetable cell
tluough the formative activity of chlorophyll under the
influence of light, and is consequently aa unfailing
characteristic of all plants containing that body (compare
Physiology, vol. xlx. p. 54). Starch found within leaves
and other green parts of plants is assimilated and trans-
formed with great rapidity; accumulations of it are carried
as starch-formers, and redeposited as starch in special
reservoirs or portions of plants as the period of maturity
approaches. In this way the body is found to gorge the
stems of certain palms — the sago, &.c. — just before these
plants begin to form their fruit ; it is the principal con-
stituent of the underground organs of biennial and peren-
nial plants, taproots, root-stocks, corms, bulbs, and tubers;
and it is abundantly stored in many fruits and seeds, aa
in the cereals and pulses, in bananas, bread-fruit, &c. It
occurs in minute" granules varying in diameter from 1 to
100 and even 200 micromillimetres ; and the granules
from different sources have each a distinct microscopic
character, their forms and size being, however, affected
according as they are aggregated in clusters or individually
formed (see vol. ii. p. 631, fig.s. 3 to 6). Under the micro-
scope these granules are seen to consist of a nucleus or
hilum surrounded by layers arranged concentrically or ec-
centrically, and the relations of hilum and layers are the
most distinctive features of individual starches. Whether
the hilum point bears to the'granule the relation of a nucleus
is a matter of dispute, the general opinion being that the
grains are formed from without inwards, the centre being
invariably the softest and most soluble portion, while the
outer layers are most closely related to cellulose. Starch
consists of a white or yellowish-white glistening powder,
which on being rubbed between the fingers emits a crackling
sound. It is only slightly acted on by cold water, but
under the influence of heat in water it swells up, forming
according to the proportions of starch and water a clouded
opalescent paste. Iodine acts on it in water by producing
a brilliant blue coloration, this reaction forming a very
delicate and characteristic test. Diastase and dilute boiling
sulphuric acid convert starch into a form soluble in hot
water, whence it passes into a series of easily soluble dex-
trin.s, and finally into the condition of the sugars, dextrose
and maltose. In its chemical relations starch consists of
an intimate mixture of two isomeric bodies, — granulose and
starch cellulose, — or rather of a series of gradations from
the one to the other, the starch cellulose being princiiially
in the external layers, while the granulose is found in the
central portions of the granules. Starch cellulose is a body
intermediate between granulose and ordinary cellulose;
from the latter it is distinguished by being reducible to
soluble starch by boiling in water and by digesting in
caustic alkali. Together, the substances consist of a com.
bination of carbon with hydrogen and oxygen, the com-
monly received formula being C„Hiq0j-(- 2H.jO ; but
Niigcli, Sachsse, and many other recent investigators show
reason why the molecule should bo regarded as consisting
of C3„H,j03,-H2'LO.
As an economic product starch in its 6e|)arato condition
is n mnst important alimentary substance, the chief pure
456
S T A — S T A
food starches being Aeroweoot, Sago, Tapioca (qq.v.),
and corn-flour, the starch of the Maize (q.v.). lu its
combined condition, in cereals, &c., starch is certainly the
greatest and foremost of all the elements of nutrition (com-
pare Dietetics and Nutrition). In its other industrial
relations starch is used — (1) directly, as a thickening
material in calico printing, for the dressing and finishing
of many textiles, for laundry purposes, adhesive paste, and
powder ; and (2) indirectly, for the preparation of dextrin
and British gum and starch sugar. Maize, wheat, and rice
starch are principally employed for the direct applications ;
and for the dextrin and starch-sugar manufacture potato
starch is almost exclusively selected.
In the preparation of starch the object of the manufacturer is to
burst the vegetable cell walls, to liberate the starch granules, and
to free them from the other cell contents with which they are
associated. When, as in the case of the potato, the associated
cell contents, &c., are readily separated by solution and levigation
the manufacture is exceedingly simple. Potato starch is prepared
principally by carefully washing the potatoes and in a kind of
rasping machine reducing them to a fine pulp, which is deposited
in water as raw starch. The impurities of this starch — cellulose,
albuminoids, fragments of potato, &c. — are separated by washing
it in fine sieves, through the meshes of which the pure starch alone
passes. The sieves are variously formed, some revolving, others
moving horizontally or in such manner as to keep the material in
agitation. The starch is then received in tanks, in which it settles,
and so separates from the soluble albuminoids and salts of the
potatoes. The settling of the starch is much retarded by the
dissolved albuminoids, and to hasten the separation small quanti-
ties either of alum or of sulphuric acid are employed. Alum
coagulates the albumen and to that extent contaminates the
starch, while the acid acts on the starch itself and is difficult of
neutralization. After the starch has settled, the brown-coloured
supernatant liquor is drawn off and the starch again washed
either in tanks or in a centrifugal machine. Finally it is dried
by spreading it in layers over porous bricks (a process not required
in the case of starch washed in a centrifugal machine) and by
exposure to the air, after which it still retains a large proportion
of water, but is in a condition for making dextrin or starch-sugar.
For further drying it is ground to a rough powde^, and dried
thoroughly in a hot chamber, then reduced to a powder and
sifted. A method of reducing potatoes to a pulp by slicing and
heaping them up till fermentation takes place is said to give a
largo yield of starch, but it is not much practised.
In dealing with the starches of the cereals, there is greater
difficulty, owing to the presence of gluten, which with water forms
a tough elastic body difficult of solution and removal. The
difficulty is experienced in greatest measure in dealing with wheat,
which contains a large proportion of gluten. Wheat starch is
separated in two different wajs— (1) the fermentation method,
which is the original process, and (2) Ijy mechanical means without
preliminary fermentation. In the fermentation process whole
wheat or wheaten meal is softened and swollen by soaking in
water. Wheat grains are, in tbis condition, ground, and the pulp,
mixed to a thickish fluid with water, is placed in tanks, where it
ferments, developing acetic and volatile acids which dissolve the
gummy constituents of the wheat, with part of the glijten, and
render the whole less tenacious. After full fermentation, tho
period of which varies with the weather and the process employed,
the starch is separated in a washing drum. It is subsequently
washed with water, which dissolves out the gluten, the starch
settling in two layers, — one comparatively pure, the other mixed
with gluten and some branny particles. These layers are separated,
the second undergoing further washing to remove the gluten, &c.,
and the remaining operations are analogous to those employed in
the preparation of potato-starch. By the mechanical process
wheaten flour is kneaded into a stiff paste, which, after resting for
an hour or two, is washed over a fine sieve so long as the water
passing off continues milky,' whereby the starch is liberated and
the greater part of the glutei* retained as a gluey elastic mass in
tho sieve. The starch is subsequently purified by fermentation,
washing, and treatment in centrifugal machines. The gluten
thus preserved is a useful food for diabetic patients, and is made
with . flour into artificial macaroni and pastes, besides being
valuable for other industrial purposes.
Maize starch is obtained by analogous processes, but, the pro-
portion of gluten in the grain being smaller, and less tenacious in
its nature, the operations. Whether chemical or mechanical, present
fewer difficulties. Under one method the separation of maize
starch is facilitated by .steeping, swelling, and softening the grain
in a weak solution of caustic soda, and favourable results are also
obtained by a process in which tho pulp from the crushing mill is
treated with water aciilulated with sulphurous acif?
In the preparation of rice-starch a weak solution of caustic soda
is also employed for softening and swelling the grain. It is then
washed with pure water, dried, ground, and sifted, and again
treated with alkaline water, by which the whole of the nitrogenous
constituents are taken up in soluble form. An acid process for
obtaining rice-starch is also employed, under which the grain,
swollen and ground, is treated repeatedly with a solution ot
hydrochloric acid, which also dissolves away the non-starchy con-
stituents of the grain. The laundry starches now in use are
principally made from rice and from pulse. (J. PA.)
STAE-CHAMBER, the name given in the 15th, 16th,
and 17th centuries to an English uigh court of justice,
consisting of the members of the ordinary council, or of
the privy council only, with the addition of certain judges,
and exercising jurisdiction, mainly criminal, in certain cases.
The origin and early history of the court are somewhat
obscure. The Curia Regis of the 1 2th century, combining
judicial, deliberative, and administrative functions, had
thrown off several offshoots in the Court of King's Bench
and other courts, but the crown never parted with the
supreme jurisdiction whence the subsidiary courts had
emanated. When in the 13th century the council became a
regular and permanent body, practically distinct from the
parliament of estates, this jurisdiction continued to be
exercised by the king in council. As the ordinary law-
courts became more systematic and important, the inde-
finite character of the conciliar jurisdiction gave rise
to frequent complaints ; and efforts, for the most part
fruitless, were made by the parliaments of the 14th
century (e.r/., in 15 Edw. II. and 2 Edw. III.) to
check it. The equitable jurisdiction of the chancellor,
which grew up during the reign of Edward lU., flowed
from this supreme judicial power, like the common law-
courts under Henry II., but without drying up the
original source. It is in the reign of Edward III. that
we first hear of the "chancellor, treasurer, justices, and
others" exercising jurisdiction in the "star-chamber" or
"chambre de estoiles" at Westminster. In Henry VI. 's
reign one Danvers was acquitted of a certain charge by
the king's council "in camera steUata." Hitherto such
Acts of Parliament as had recognized this jurisdiction
had done so only by way of limitation or prohibition, but
in 1453, about the time when the distinction between the
ordinary and the privy council first became apparent, an
Act was passed by which the chancellor was empowered
to enforce the attendance of all persons summoned by the
privy seal before the king and his council in all cases not
determinable by common law. At this time, then, the
jurisdiction of the council was recognized as supplementary
to that of the ordinary law-courts. But the anarchy of
the Wars of the Roses, and the decay of provincial justice
owing to the influence of great barons and the turbulence
of the lower classes, obliged parliament to entrust ■wider
powers to the council. This was the object of the famous
Act of 3 Hen. VII., which was quoted by the lawyers
of the Long Parliament as creating the court of star-
chamber. This, however, as is shown above, it was far
from doing. The Act of 3 Hen. VII. empowered a
committee of the council, consisting of the chancellor,
treasurer, privy seal, or any two of them, with the chief
justices, or in their absence two other justices, a bishop,
and a temporal lord, to act as a court of justice for enforc-
ing the law in cases where it was thwarted by bribery,
intimidation, or partiality. The jurisdiction thus entrusted
to a committee of the council was not, therefore, like that
granted in 1453, supplementary, but superseded the
ordinary law-courts in cases where they were too weak to
act. The Act simply supplied machinery for the exercise
under special circumstances of that extraordinary penal
jurisdiction which the council had never ceased to possess.
This jurisdiction, Bacon tells us, was still further developed
and organized by Wolsey. The court established by the
S T A — S T A
457
Act 3 Hen. VII. continued to exist for about fifty years,
but disappeared towards the end of Henry A'lII.'s reign.
Its powers were not lost, but fell back to the general
body of the council, and were among the most important
of those exercised by the council sitting in the star-
chamber. A court not unlike that created in 3 Hen. VII.
was erected in 1540. The Act of 31 Hen. VIII., which
gave the king's proclamations the force of law, enacted
that offenders against them riiight be punished by the
usual ofBcers of the council, together with some bishops
and judges, "in the star-chamber or elsewhere." These
powers also came after a time, like those granted in 1488,
to be exercised by the council at large instead of by certain
members of it. It is clear, however, — and this was one of
the chief complaints against the court, — that the jurisdic-
tion which belonged by law or custom to the whole body
of the king's council was usurped at this time by the
inner body of advisers called the privy council, which
had engrossed all the other functions of the larger body.
Sir T. Smith (temp. Eliz.) tells us that juries misbehaving
"were many times commanded to appear in the star-
ehamber or before the privy council for the matter." The
uncertain composition of the court is well displayed by
Coke, who says that the star-chamber is or may be com-
pounded of three several councils — (1) the lords and others
of the privy council, (2) the judges of either bench and
the barons of the exchequer, (3) the lords of parliament,
who are not, however, standing judges of the court.
Hudson (temp. Car. I.), on the other hand, considers that
all peers had a right of sitting in the court. The latter
class had, however, certainly given up sitting in the 17th
century. The jurisdiction of the court was equally vague,
and, as Hudson says, it was impossible to define it without
offending the supporters of the prerogative by a limitation
of its powers, or the common lawyers by attributing to it an
excessive latitude. In practice its jurisdiction was almost
anlimited. li took notice of maintenance and Ijveries,
■bribery or partiality of jurors, falsification of panels or of
verdicts, routs and riots, murder, felony, forgery, perjury,
fraud, libel and slander, offences against proclamations,
(fcels, acts tending to treason, as well as of a few civil
matters, — disputes as to land between great men or
corporations, disputes between English and foreign
merchants, testamentary cases, &c., — in fact, " all offences
may be here examined and punished if the king will "
(Hudson). Its procedure was not according to the
common law ; it dispensed with the encumbrance of a
jury ; it could proceed on mere rumour or examine wit-
nesses ; it could apply torture ; it could inflict any penalty
short of death. It was thus admirably calculated to be
the support of order against anarchy or of despotism
against individual and national liberty. During the Tudor
period it api .ared in the former light, under the Stuarts
in the latter. It was abolished by the Long Parliament
in 1641, and was never afterwards revived.^
Authorities. — Smitli, Commonwealth of England; Bacon, Jteign
of HmryVII.; Hudson, Treatise of the Court of Star-Chamhcr (Col-
lectanea Juridica, vol. ii. ); H.illam, Const. Hist, of England; Gneist,
Engl. Verfassungsgeschichte ; Dicey, T/te Privy Council (Arnold Prize
Essay). The pleadings in tlie star-cliamber are in the Kccorll Office ;
the decrees appear to have been lost. (0. W. P.)
STAKGARD, an ancient mauufacturing town in eastern
Pomerania, Prussia, is situated on the left bank of the
navigable Ihna, 20 miles to the east of Stettin. Formerly
a member of the Hanseatic League, the town retains
memorials of its early importance in the large church of
' The name is probably derived from the stars with which the roof
rf the chamber was painted ; but it has also been derived from a
Hebrew word shelar, or sh'tar, a bond, on the supposition that the
room was that in which the legal documents conucctcb with the Jews
were kept prior to their expulsion by Edward 1.
St JIary, built in the 14th and 15th centuries, the 16th-
century town-house, and the well-preserved walls with
gateways and towers dating from the 14th century. ' The
extensive new law-courts and three large barracks are
among the modern buildings. Stargard has a consider-
able market for cattle and horses, and carries on trade in
grain, spirits, and raw produce. Its manufactures include
cigars, tobacco, wadding, and stockings ; and there are
also iron-foundries and linen and woollen factories in the
town. The population in 1885 was 22,109 (in 1816
8706), of whom about 730 were Roman Catholics and
about 560 Jews.
Stargard, meutioned as having been destroyed by the Poles in
1120, received town-rights in 1229, and became the capital of
eastern Pomeranin. As a Hanseatic town it enjoyed considerable
commercial prosperitj', but had also to undergo siege and capture
in the Middle Ages and during the Thirty Years' War. In 1807
it was taken by Schill. The name Stargard (from the Slavonic
Starograd or Starigi'od, meaning "old town") is common to several
other towns in the north of Germany, of which the chief are
Prussian Stargard, near Dantzic, and Stargard-in -Mecklenburg.
STARLING (A.S. Slxr, Steam, and Sterlyng; Lat.
Sturmcs ; Fr. itourneau), a bird long time well-known
in most parts of England, and now, through the exten-
sion of its range within the present century, in the rest
of Great Britain, as well as in Ireland, where, though
not generally distributed, it is very numerous in some
districts. It is about the size of a Thrush, and, though at
a distance it appears to be black, when near at hand its
plumage is seen to be brightly shot with purple, green, and
steel-blue, most of the feathers when freshly grown being
tipped with buff'. These markings wear off in the course
of the winter, and in the breeding-season the bird isalmost
spotless. It is the Siumus mlgaris of ornithologists.
To describe the habits of the Starling^ within the limits here
allotted is impossible. A more engaging bird scarcely exists, for
its familiarity during some months of the year givjs opportunities
for observing its ways that few others afford, while its varied
song, its sprightly gestures, its glossy plumage, and, above all, ita
character as an insecticide — which last makes it the friend of the
agriculturist and the grazier — render it an almost universal favourite.
The worst that can be said of it is that it occasionally pilfers fruit,
and, as it flocks to roost in autumn and winter among reed-beds, does
considerable damage by breaking down the stems.' The congrega-
tions of Starlings are indeed very marvellous, and no less than tha
aerial evolutions of the flocks, chiefly before settling for tho night,
have attracted attention from early times, being mentioned by
Pliny (Hist. Naluralis, x. 24) in the 1st century. The extraordi-
nary precision with which the crowd, often numbering several
hundreds, not to say thousands, of birds, wheels, closes, opens out,
rises, and descends, as if the whole body were a single living thing —
all these movements being executed without a note or cry bemg
uttered — must be seen to be appreciated, and may be seen
repeatedly with pleasure. For a resident, the Starling is rather
a late breeder. The nest is commonly placed in the hole of a tree
or of a building, and its preparation is the work of some little
time. The eggs, from 4 to 7 in number, are of a very pale blue,
often tinged with green. As the young grow they become very
noisy, and their parents, in their assiduous attendance, hardly loss
so, thus occasionally making themselves disagreeable in a quiet
neighbourhood. Tho Starling has a wide range over Europe and
Asia, reaching India ; but examples from Kashmir, Persia, and
Armenia have been considered worthy of specific distinction, and
tlie resident Starling of tho countries 'bordering tho Meditorrnneun
is generally regarded as a good species, and called §. unicoloi
from its unspotted plumage.
Of the many forms allied to the genus Mtir-nvs, some of
which have perhaps been needlessly separated therefrom,
those known as Gkackles (vol. xi. p. 26) have been
already mentioned, and there is only room here to notice
one other, Pastor, containing a beautiful species P. roseus.
^ They are dwelt on at some length in Yairell's British Birds, od. </
vol. ii. pp. 229-24J1.
' A most ridiculous and unfounded charge has been, however, mors
than once brought ogainst it— that of destroying the eggs of Skykrk*.
There is little real evidence of its sucking eggs, and much of ita not
doing so; while, to render tho allegation still more absurd, it hiu boon
bronglit by a class of farmers who generally complain that Skylark*
themselves arc higlUy injurious.
458
S T A
S
T A
the Piose-coloured Starling, which is not an uufrequeat
visitor to the British Islands. It is a bird of most irregular
and erratic habits — a vast horde suddenly arriving at some
place to which it may have hitherto been a stranger, and
at once making a settlement there, leaving it wholly
deserted as soon as the yonng are reared. This happened
in the summer of 1875 at Villafranca, in the province of
Verona, the castle of whiuh was occupied in a single day
by some 12,000 or 14,000 birds of this species, as has been
graphically told by Sig. de Betta (Atti del Ji. 1st. Venelo,
ser. 5, vol. ii.);^ but similar instances have been before
recorded, — as in Bulgaria in 18G7, near Smyrna in 1856,
and near Odessa in 1844, to mention only some of which
particulars have been published.* (a. n.)
STAEODUB, a district town of Eussia, in the govern-
ment of TchernigofF, 116 miles to the north-east of that
town, on the marshy banks of a small tributary of the navi-
gable Sudost. It is regularly built, with broad straight
streets, the houses being surrounded by large gardens. Its
23,8^0 inhabitants — Little Russian descendants of former
Cossacks, with about 5000 Jews — support themselves
chiefly by gardening and agriculture. Tanning is also
carried on, and the trade in corn and hemp exported to
Riga and St Petersburg has some importance.
Starodub at one time played a prominent part in the history of
the Ukraine. As early as the 11th and 12th centuries it was a
bone of coatention between different Russian princes, who appre-
ciated the vsluo of its strategic position. The Mongols seem to
have destroyed it, and its name does not reappear till the 14tU
century. During the 15th and 16th centuries the Kussians and
Lithuanians wero continually disputing the possession of its fortress,
and at the beginning of the 17th century it became a, stronghold of
Poland.
STARO-KONSTANTINOFF, a district town of Russia,
in the government of Volhynia, situated 121 miles to the
west-south-west of Zhitomir. It is an old-fashioned, poorly
built town, dating frosi the 16th century, and is often
mentioned in history in connexion with the rising of
Cossacks under Bogdan Khmelnitzky. Owing to its
excellent position close to the Austrian frontier and its
railway communication with south-west Russia, it has a
very active trade in corn, cattle, and salt with Austria,
Prussia, and Poland. Its population (17,960 in 1884, of
whom two-thirds were Jews^ is rapidly increasing.
STASSFURT, a town in the Prussian province of
Saxony, and one of the chief seats of the German salt-
producing industry, is situated on both sides of the Bode,
19 miles to the south-west of Magdeburg. Although
saline springs are mentioned here as early as the 13th
century, the first attempt to bore for salt was not made
until 1839, while the systematic exploitation of the saU-
beds, to which the town is indebted for its prosperity,
dates only from 1855. The shafts reached deposits of salt
at a depth of 850 feet, but the finer and purer layers lie
more than 1100 feet below the surface. Besides the
rock-salt, which is excavated by blasting, the saline
deposits of Stassfurt yield a considerable quantity of
deliquescent salts and other saline products, which have
encouraged the foundation of numerous chemical factories
in the town and in the neighbouring village of Leopolds-
hall, which stands upon Anhalt territory. The formation
of the Stassfurt salt-beds and the composition of the rock-
salt are described under Salt (voL.ssi. pp. 231, 232).
The rock-salt works are mainly Government property, while
' A partial translation of this paper is given in the Zoologist for
1878, pp. 18-22.
" It is remarkable that on almost all of these occasions the locality
pitched upon has been, either at the time or soon after, ravaged by
locusts, which the birds greedily devour. Another fact worthy of
Utention is that they are often observed to affect trees or shrubs
bearing rose-eoloured flowers, as Neriwn oleander and Robinia mscosa,
tanong the blossoms of which they themselves may easily escape
btioe, for their plumage is rose-pink and black shot with blue.
the chemical factories are in private lands. About 2000
workmen are employed in the Stassfurt salt industry, and
• about 490,000 tons of raw salt are annually excavated.
The population of the town, which contains one or two
miscellaneous factories, was 16,457 in 1885.
STATE, Great Officers op. All the principal ministeta
of the British crown are popularly called the great officers
of state. Under this designation are more or less accur-
ately included the premier for the time being, the other
members of the cabinet, and the leading functionaries
of the court But properly speaking the great offices of
state are only nine in number, and it is to the holders
of them alone that the description of " the great officers of
state" strictly and distinctively applies. They are the
lord high steward, the lord high chancellor, the lord high
treasurer, the lord-president of the privy council, the
lord-keeper of the privy seal, the lord great chamberlain,
the lord high constable, the earl marshal, and the lord
high. admiral. Of these, three — the lord chancellor, the
lord-president of the council, and the lord privy seal — •
are the first and second always and the third almost
always cabinet ministers. The offices of two more — those
of the lord treasurer and. the high constable — are now
executed by commission, the chief of the lords commis-
sioners, known severally as the hcst lord of the treasury,
and the first lord of the admiralty, being likewise members
of the cabinet, while the first lord of the treasury is
usually at the head of the Government. But, although it
has become the rule for the treasury and the admiralty to
be put in commission, there is nothing except usage of
longer or shorter duration to prevent the crown from,
making a personal appointment to either of them, and the
functions which formerly appertained to the lord treasure!
and the high admiral are still regularly performed in
the established course of the national administration. The
four offices of the high steward, the great chamberlain, the
high constable, and the earl marshal stand on a differeni
footing, and can be regarded at the present day as Ettle
else than survivals from an earlier condition of society.
They have practically ceased to have any relation to the
ordinary routine of business in the country or of cere-
monial in the palace, and the duties associated with them
have either passed entirely into abeyance or are restricted
within extremely narrow limits, save on certain occasions
of exceptional pomp and solemnity. All of them were
once hereditary, and, taking the three kingdoms together,
they or their counterparts and equivalents continue to be
held by right of inheritance in one or other of them even
now. The prince of Wales is the hereditary great steward
of Scotland, and the earl of Shrewsbury is the hereditary
grand seneschal of Ireland. The' great chamberlainship of
England is held jointly by Lady "Willoughby de Eresby
and Lord Carrington on the one part and on the other
part by the marquis of Cholmondeley. The hereditary,
high constable of Scotland is the earl of Erroll, and the
hereditary earl marshal of England is the duke of Norfolk.
It is of the great offices of the steward, the chamberlain,
the constable, and the marshal that we shall at present
speak, the rest of those we have mentioned being dealt with
under their proper headings, or in the articles Cabinet,
MrtnsTBY, Privy Council, and Royax Household.
The lord high steward of England ranks as the first of
the great officers of state. His office is called out of
abeyance by commission under the great seal only for
coronations and for trials by the House of Lords. At the
former he bears the crown of St Edward immediately
before the sovereign in the procession to Westminster
Abbey, and he presides at the latter on the arraignment of
a peer or a peeress for treason or felony. From the reign
of Richard IL to that ofiHenry.VLL it was the duty of th'-
STATE OFFICEJRS
459
lord high steward to sit judicially in the court of claims to
hear and determine all claims to render services of grand
serjeanty to the king or queen at his or her coronation.
Since the accession of the house of Tudor, however, this
functiou has generally been discharged by a specially
appointed commission, or a committee of the privy council.
According to the tradition once current among lawyers and
antiquaries, the steward of England was, under the Norman
and Angevin kings, the second personage in the realm, the
viceroy in the absence and the chief minister in the presence
of the sovereign. Coke says, on the more than doubtful
authority of an ancient manuscript, that his oflfice M'as to
superintend under the king and next after the king the
whole kingdom and all the ministers of the law within the
kingdom in time of both peace and war. But of this there
ii no satisfactory evidence. It is not improbable that the
steward of England may for a short period after the Con-
quest have occupied a position analogous to that of the
Saxon heah-gerefa or that of the Norman seneschal, or of
the two in combination. But, as Stubbs points out, tlio
chief minister and occasional viceroy, either alone or wiih
others, of the Conqueror and his earlier successors was the
person to whom the historians and the later constitutional
writers give the name of justiciarius with or without the
prefix " summus '' or " capitalis." He adds that most likely
the Norman ."jeneschalship was the origin of the English
jnsticiarsbip, that under Henry II. the seneschal of Nor-
mandy receives the name of justiciar, and that it is only
in the same reigfl that the office in England acquires the
exclusive right to the definite name of " summus " or
"capitalis justitiarius " or "justitiarius totius Anglia;."
But whatever may have been his original condition the
steward had been by that time at the latest eclipsed in his
most important functions by the justiciar, and he makes,
as Stubbs observes, in his official capacity no great figure in
English history. By the reign of Henry II. at any rate
all connexion between the stewardship and the justiciar-
ship had come to an end ; and, while the second retained
its authority unimpaired until its extinction, the first be-
came a grand serjeanty, primarily annexed to the barony
of Hinckley, it is said, and afterwards to the earldom of
Leicester. On the attainder of Simon de Montfort the
earldom and stewardship were forfeited, and both were
granted by Edward I. to his brother Edmund Plantagenct,
earl of Lancaster, from whom they descended to the daughter
and eventual heiress of Henry Plantagenet, duke of Lan-
caster. She was the first wife of John of Gaunt and the
mother of Henry IV. On the accession of her son to the
throne they became merged in the crown, from which period
the stewardship has been revived only hac vice from time
to time as occasion required. It is indeed to John of
Gaunt that the pre-eminent position accorded to the office
since the end of the 1 4 th century is really due. It emerged
from the comparative obscurity in which it had rested for
nearly three hundred years as soon as he became the tenant
of it by courtesy in right of his deceased wife. As far as
any records show to the contrary he was the first .steward
of England who took part in the coronation of a king or
queen, and he was certainly the first steward of England
who sat in the court of claims or who presided at a trial
\>j the House of Lords. It seems to have been by him also
that the precedence of the stewardship before all the other
great offices of state was secured, a restoration or aug-
mentation of rank which is the more romarkablp in that the
steward of Scotland gave place to the chamberlain and the
aencschal of Ireland gave place to the constable of the two
kingdoms respectively. John of Gaunt may bo regarded,
in fact, as the creator of the lord high stewardship and
all its privileges and prerogatives as they have exists from
bis daya to our owd.
The lord great chamberlain of England ranks as the
sixth great officer of state. AVhenever the sovereign
attends the palace of Westminster the keys are delivered
to him. and he is for the time in command of the building.
At the opening or closing of the session of parliament by
the sovereign in person he disposes of the sword of state
to be carried by an)' peer he may select, and walks him-
self in the procession on the right of the sword of state, a
little before it and next to the sovereign. lie assists at
the introduction of all peers into the House of Lords on
their creation, and at the homage of all bishops after their
consecration. At a coronation he receives the regalia
from the dean and chapter of Westminster, and distributes
them to the personages who are to bear them in the cere-
mony. On that day it is his duty to carry the sovereign
his shirt and wearing apparel before he rises and to serve
him with water to wash his hands before and after dinner.
The chamberlain was originally a financial officer ; hia
work, Stubbs says, was rather that of auditor or accountant
than that of treasurer ; he held a more definite position in
the household than most of the other great oflicers, " and
in the judicial work of the country he was only less im-
portant than the justiciar." The office was hereditary in
the Veres, earls of Oxford, from the reign of Henry L to
the reign of Charles L, when it passed through an heiress
to the Berties, Lords Willoughby de Eresby, and after-
wards earls of Lindsey and dukes of Ancaster, and from
the Berties it was transmitted through coheiresses to the
present inheritors of the dignity. The Stuarts, dukes of
Lennox, were hereditary great chamberlains of Scotland
in the l6th and 17th centuries. The office on their ex-
tinction was granted by Charles IL to James, duke 'of
Monmouth and Buccleuch, on who.se attainder it passed
to Charles, duke of .Eichmond and Lennox, by whom it
was surrendered to the crown in 1703.
The lord high constable of England ranks as the seventh
of the great officers of state. His office is called out of
abeyance for coronations alone, when it is his duty to
assist in the reception of the regalia from tho dean and
chapter of Westminster, and during the coronation ban-
quet to ride into Westminster Hall on the right hand of
the champion. The constable was originally the com-
mander of the royal armies and the master of the liorao.
He was also one of the judges of the court of chivalry or
court of honour. The constableship was granted as a
grand serjeanty vrith the earldom of Hereford by the
empress Maud to Milo of Gloucester, and was carried by
his heiress to the Bohuns, carls of Hereford and Essex.
Through a coheiress of the Bohuns it descended to tho
Staffords, dukes of Buckingham ; and on tho attainder of
Edward Stivfford, third duke of Buckingham, in the reign
of Henry Vlll. it became merged in the crown. The
Lacys and Verduns were hereditary constables of Ireland
from the 12th to the 14th century; and the Hays, carla
of ErroU, have been hereditary constables of Scotland from
early in the 14th century until the present time.
The earl mar.shal of England ranks as the eighth of the
great officers of state. He is the head of tho college of
arms, and has the appointment of the kings-of-arms, her-
alds, and pursuivants at his discrrtion. Ho attends th«
sovereign in opening and closing the session of parliament^
walking o])posite to the lord great chamberlain on his or
her right hand. It is his duty to make arranj^ements for
the order of all state processions and ceremonials, cspo-
cialiy for coronations and royal marriages and funcralaj
Like the lord high constable ho rides into We.<it minster
Hall with the champion after a coronation, taking his place
on tho left hand, and with tho lord groat chamberlain hv
assists at tho introduction of all ncwly-crcatcd peers into
the House of Lords. The marshal appears in tho feodsi
460
S T A— S T A
armies to have been in command of the cavalry under the
constable, and to have in some measure superseded I'™
as master of the horse in the royal palace. He exercised
joint and co-ordinate jurisdiction vyith the constable in the
court of chivalry, and afterwards became the sole judge
of that tribunal. The marshalship of England was made
hereditary in the Clares and Marshals, earls of Pembroke,
in the reign of Stephen or Henry II., and through a co-
heiress passed to the Bigots, earls of Norfolk, and by
Eoger Bigot, fifth earl of Norfolk, it was surrendered
with his other dignities to Edward I. It was granted by
Edward II. to his brother Thomas of Brotherton, earl of
Norfolk, and, after it had been variously disposed of by
Edward III., was by Richard II. erected into an earldom
and conferred on Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk, who
was the great-grandson and heir of Thomas of Brother-
ton. One of the coheiresses of the Mowbrays was the
mother of John Howard, duke of Norfolk, who was created
earl marshal by Richard III. After several attainders
and partial restorations in the reigns of the Tudors and
the Stu^''ts, the earl marshalship was finally v^tailed by
Charles 11. on the male line of the Howards, with many
specific remainders and limitations, under which settlement
it has regularly descended to the present duke of Norfolk.
The Clares and Marshals, earls of Pembroke, and the
Lords Morley appear to have been hereditary marshals
of Ireland from the invasion of the island until the end
of the loth century. The Keiths were Earls Marischal of
Scotland from the institution of the office by James II. in
1458 until the attainder of George, the tenth earl, in 1716.
Oc the subject of the great offices of state generally, see Stubbs,
Constitutional History, eh. xi. : Freeman, Konnan Conquest, ch.
ixiv. ; Gneist, Constitution of England, ch. xvi., xxxv., and liv. ;
also Gibbon, Decline and Fall, ch. liii., and Bryce, Holy Roman
Umpire, ch. xiv. (F. DR.)
STATEN ISLAND, an island of New York State,
forming, with some adjacent islands, Richmond county,
with a population of 38,991 in 1880, is situated about .5
miles south' of New York city, from v.-hich it is separated
by New York Bay, while the Narrows, commanded by
Forts Wadsworth and Tompkins and a line of water-
batteries, separate it from Long Island on the north-east,
Staten Island Sound from New Jersey on the west, and
Newark Bay and the Kill van KuU from the same State
on the north. It is of an irregular triangular shape, its
greatest length being about 13 miles, its greatest breadth
about 8, and the total area 58i square miles. The surface
b gently undulating, but a range of hills attaining 310
feet in height extends across the northern portion. Iron
ore_ is found. The island contains many detached villa
residences of persons in business in New YorL On an
artificial island off the east shore is the New York
quarantine establishment, and Staten Island is the seat of
the " Sailors' Snug Harbour," a retreat for superannuated
seamen. Steam ferries ply half-hourly to New York, and
on the island there is a railway line from Tompkinsville
to Tottenville.
STATE PAPERS. See Records, Pitblic.
STATES OF THE CHURCH, or Papal States (Ital.
Stato ddla Chiesa,^Stato Pontificio, Staio Romano, Stato
Ecclesiastico ; Fr. Etals de Vjtglise, Pontificat Souverain de
Rome, itc,'; llerm. Kirckenstaat ; in ecclesiastical Latin
often Patrimonium Sancti Peti-i), that portion of central
Italy which, previous to the unification of the kingdom,
was under the direct government of the see of Rome. The
territory stood at the close as in the annexed table.
With the exception of Benevento, surrounded by the
Neapolitan province of Principato Ulteriore, and the small
state of Pontecorvo, enclosed within the Terra di Lavoro,
the States of the Church formed a compact territory,
bounded on the N.W. by the Lombardo- Venetian kingdom.
on the N.E. by the Adriatic, on the S.E. by the kingdom
of Naples, on the S.W. by the Mediterranean, and on
the W. by the grand-duchy of Tuscany and the duchy of
Comarca of Rome
f Bologna
i. I Ferrara
.2 J Fori!
« I Kavenna
" 1 Urbino, with Pesaro
^ IVelletri
("Ancona
Macerata
Camerino
Fermo
Ascoli
Perugia
S \ Spoleto
" Kieti
Viterbo
Orvieto ;
Civita Vecchia
Frosinone, with Pontecorvo . .
L Benevento
Area in
English Square
ililes.
1752
1359
1094
718
701
1414
571
441
895
320
335
476
1555
1175
531
1158
316
380
739
61
16,000-8
Fopntation
in 18^3.
326,509
575,631
244,524
218,433
175,994
257,T51
62,013
176,519
243,104
42,991
110,321
91,918
234,533
135,029
73,883
128,324
29,047
20,701
154,559
23,176
3,124,758
Modena. On the Adriatic the coast extended 140 miles,
from the mouth of the Tronto (Truentus) to the southern
mouth of the Po, and on the Tyrrhenian Sea 130 miles,
from 41° 20' to 42° 22' N. lat. See vol. xiii. Plate VL
The divisions shown above were adopted on December
21, 1827, the legations being ruled by a cardinal and the
delegations by a prelate. Previously the several districts
formally recognized were Latium, the Marittima (or sea-
board) and Campagna, the Patrimony of Saint Peter, the
duchy of Castro, the Orvietano, the Sabina, Umbria, the
Perugino, the ^March of Ancona, Romagna, the Bolognese,
the Ferrarese, and the duchies of Benevento and of
Pontecorvo.
The question of tho origin of the territorial jurisdiction of the
pope has been treated under Popedom (vol. xLx. p. 495). With
the moral and ecclesiastical decay of the papacy in the 9th and
10th centuries much of its territorial authority slipped from its
grasp; and by the middle of the 11th century its rule was not
recognized beyond Rome and the immediate vicinity. By the
treaty of Sutri (February 1111) Paschal II. was compelled by tho
emperor Henry V. to surrender all the possessions and royalti<!s
of the church; but this treaty was soon afterwards repudiated, and
by the will of Matilda, cguntess of Tuscany, the papal see 'was
enabled to lay claim to new territories of great value. By the
capitulation of Neuss (1201) Otto IV. recognized the papal authority
i ovir the whole tract from Kadicofani in Tuscany to the pass oif
Ceperano on the Neapolitan frontier — the exarchate of Ravenna,
the Pentapolis, the March of Ancona, the bishopric of Spoleto,
Matilda's personal estates, and the countship of Brittenoro ; but a
good deal of the territory thus described remained for centuries an
object of ambition only on the part of the popes. The actnal
annexation of Ravenna, Ancona, Bologna, Ferrara, &c. , dates from
the 16th century. The States of the Church were of course sub-
merged for a time by the ground-swell of tho French Revolution,
but they appeared again in 1814. In 1849 they received a consti-
tution. On the formation of the kingdom of Italy in 1860 they'
were reduced to the Comarca of Rome, the legation of Velletri, and
the three delegations of Viterbo, Civita Vecchia, and Frosinone;
and in 1870 they disappeared from the political map of Europe.
STATICS. See Mechanics.
STATIONERY. Under the name of stationery are
embraced all writing materials and implements, together
with the numerous appliances of the desk and of mercantile
and commercial offices. In addition to these, the tef-m
fancy stationery covers a miscellaneous a.ssemblagft of
leather and other goods, such as pocket-books, pu<ce.s,
bags, card-cases, and many kindred objects which cannot
be classified. The principal articles and operations of the
stationery trade are dealt with in deiail under separate
headings — Bookbinding, Embossijig, InK; LiTHOORArny,'
IS T A — S T A
461
Paper, Pen, Pencil, Sealing-wax, <tc.; but in connexion
with the separate industry of a commercial stationer there
are a number of special operations and machines to which
brief allusion may be made.
Paper-Ruling. — The ruling of blue and other coloured lines is
usually done on a self-feeding machine provided with as many
ruling pens as there are lines to be made, and these fixed in
parallel order at intervals the width of the ruled spaces. The
pens consist of grooved slips of sheet brass coming to a iine point,
which in their upper part are covered by a sheet of felt saturated
with a flowing ink, whence each pen obtains the supply required
for tracing its line. The paper is carried forward by endless tapes
or threads which pass around cylinders. In a recent form of
machine the rulers consist of metal disks with thin edges, which
take up printing ink from an india-rubber cylinder, and print
the lines on the paper as it passes around a revolving cylinder.
Paper-Folding machinery is used for numerous purposes in the
atationcry trade, apart from its application to the folding of sheets
for the bookbinder. Devices for folding come most prominently
forward in connexion with the envelope manufacture, an industry
which received an enormous development by the introduction of
uniform postage rates. In envelope-making the folding is com-
monly associated with gumming, and sometimes with embossing,
in the same system of machinery. The first efiBcient automatic
machine for envelope manufacture yas devised by Edwin Hill
and Warren de la Rue, and by them patented in 1845. Many
forms of envelope folding and gumming machine now exist. In
making envelopes the blanks are first cut out by shaped cutters
or punches acting at one stroke on a thickness of from 200 to 300
sheets of paper. These blanks in the latest form of machine are
gummed by a pad which takes gum from a roller and presses it on
the edges of the paper, just as printing ink is received from cylinders
and pressed on paper in printing. The gummed surface of the pad
lifts each blank separately, pl"ces it under a plunger, which, descend-
ing, passes it to folders, whence it is delivered into a clip in an endless
band of considerable length. The envelopes are delivered into the
oKps in the band at the rate of about 100 to 150 per minute.
Perforating and Punching give rise to a range of machines of varied
form and complexity. The idea of perforating paper so as to allow
of the ready detaching of portions by tearing was conceived and
patented in 1848 by Mr Henry Archer. Of such utility was Mr
Archer's conception deemed by the post-office authorities as a con-
venience for detaching stamps from sheets that in 1853 he was
awarded £4000 for his patent rights. The applications of perfora-
tion are now very numerous, but its value still remains most obvious
iri connexion with the detachment of adhesive stamps from sheets.
Numbering and Paying constitute another series of stationery
operations, for which ingenious machines have been devised. For
consecutive numbering a series of printing disks are employed, on the
periphery of which the series of digits 1 to 0 are raised. The outer
disk moves a number after each impression, the second disk moves
once in ten times, and so on, thus automatically imprinting consecu-
tive numbers up to the limit of the disks on the machine. Such a
machine prints only on one side of the paper, and where the
numbering is required on both sides the disks must be geared to
move two places, numbering only odd or even numbers, two print-
ings being thus required . For printing right and left consecutively
an endless band machine is used, which prints alternately below
and above for the two sides of the sheet.
STATISTICS. The word "statistic" is derived f rim
the Latin status, which, in the so-called Middle Ages, had
come to mean a "state " in the political sense. "Statis-
tic," therefore, originally denoted inquiries into the con-
dition of a state. Since the beginning of the 18th century
the denotation of the word has been extended so as to
include subjects only indirectly connected with political
organizations, while at the same time the scope of the
investigations it implies has become more definite, and at
the present day may be said, for practical purposes, to be
fixed, though there are still controversies as to the position
of statistical studies in relation to other departments of
Bciontific procedure.
Hiitory. — The origin of what is now known as " statistic"
(Ger. Die Statislik ; Fr. La Slatislique ; Ital. Slatistica)
can only be referred to briefly here. As M. Maurice
Block has observed in commencing his admirable treatise,
"It is no exaggeration to say that statistic has existed
e»er since there were states." For the first administra-
tive act of the first regular Government was probably to
number ita fighting men, at>d its next to ascertain with
some degree of accuracy what amount of taxation coold
be levied on the remainder of the community. As human
societies became more and more highly organized, there
can be no doubt that a verj' considerable body of oflBcial
statistics must have come into existence, and been con-
stantlj' used by statesmen, solely with a view to adminis-
tration. The Romans, who may be described as the most
business-like people of antiquity, were careful to obtain
accurate information regarding the resources of the state,
and they appear to have carried on the practice of taking
the census, a very comprehensive statistical operation,
with a regularity which has hardly been surpassed in
modern times. As to the efficiency of the work done we
have unfortunately very little information, but those who
are curious on the subject may be referred to an article by
Dr Hildebrand, entitled "Die amtliche Bevolkerungs-
statistik im alten Eom," printed in the Jakrbuck fiir
Nalionalokonomie nnd Statistih, 1866, p. 82.
Statistics, or rather the material for statistics, therefore
existed at a very early period, but it was not untU within
the last three centuries that systematic use of the informa-
tion available began to be made for purposes of investiga-
tion and not of mere administration. According to M.
Block, the earliest work in which facts previously known
only to Government officials were published to the world
was a volume compiled by Francesco Sansovino, entitled
Del Govemo et Amministrazione di Diversi Eegni et Bepub-
liche, which was printed in Venice and bears the dato
1583. Other works of a similar kind were published
towards the end of the 16th century in Italy and France.
Regarding these and other early books on the subject
reference may be made to Fallati's Einhitung in die
Wissenschaft der Statistic, Dr G. B. Salvioni's preface
and notes to his translation into Italian of Dr MajT's
work on statistics, and other authors mentioned at the
close of this article.
Works on state administration and finance continued
to be published during the first half of the 17th century,
and the tendency to employ figures, which were hardly
used at all by Sansovino, became more marked, especially
in England, where the facts connected with "bills of
mortality " had begun to attract attention.
In the year 1660 Hermann Conring, "professor of
medicine and politics," a rather odd combination, in the
university of Helmstiidt, was in the habit of giving
lectures in which he analysed and discussed the circum-
stances existing in various countries, in so far as they
affected the happiness of the inhabitants. Conring's
example was followed by other writers, in Germany and
elsewhere, to whom reference is made by Block (Traite,
pp. 5, 6) and Haushofer (Lehr- ■und Handbuck, p. 10,
note).
The best-known member of the "descriptive" school
was Achenwall (1719-1772), who is sometimes spoken of
as "the father of modern statistics," but, as his procedure
was essentially the same as that of Conring, though it waa
carried out more fully, the title has not been unanimously
granted. It is generally admitted, however, that Achen-
wall's work gave a great impulse to the pursuit of the
studies which are now included under the title of statis-
tics. He called his book Staatsverfassung der (wopiiischen
Reirhe in the first two editions (1749, 1752), meaning
"Constitution of the States of Europe." Subsequently
he added " vornehmsten " and then " heutigen " before
" europiiischen," evidently with the desire of bringing his
work, which may be regarded as the germ of such volumes
OS the Statesman's Year-Bool; "up to date." Achenwall
is usually credited with being the first writer who made
USD of the word "statistics," which he applied to liis
collection of "noteworthy matters regarding the state"
462
STATISTICS
{StaatsmerkwUrdigkeiten), but the claim has been disputed
by M. Block, who points out that the term collegium
statisticum. had been previously employed by Schmeitzel, a
follower of Conring, whose lectutes at Jena were no doubt
attended by Achenwall.
In any case statistics, in the modern sense of the word,
did not really come into existence until the publication by
J. P. Siissmilch, a Prussian clergyman, of a work entitled
Die gottliche Ordniing in den Verdnderungen des Mensch-
licheii Gesddecltts aus dem Geburt, dein Tode, und der
FoTtpflans^ing desselben enviesen. In this book a system-
atic attempt was made to make use of a class of facts
Which up to that time had been regarded as belonging to
"political arithmetic," under which description some of
the most important- problems of what modern WTiters term
" vital statistics " had been studied, especially in England.
Siissmilch had arrived at a perception of the advantage of
studying what Quetelet subsequently termed the " laws of
large numbers." He combined the method employed by
the Conring-Achenwall school of "descriptive statistics,"
whose works were not unlike modern school-books of geo-
graphy, with that of the "political arithmeticians," who
had confined themselves to investigations into the facts
regarding mortality and a few other similar subjects,
without much attempt at generalizing from them.
Political arithmetic had come into existence in England
in the middle of the 17th century, or about the time
when Conring was instructing the students of Helmstadt.
The earliest example of this class of investigation is the
work of Captain John Graunt of London, entitled Natural
and Political Annotations made upon the Bills of Mortality,
which was first published in 1666. This remarkable
work, which dealt with mcu-tality in London only, ran
through many editions, and the line of inquiry it sug-
gested was followed up by other writers, of wh»m the
most distinguished was Sir William Petty, whose active
mind was naturally attracted by the prospect of making
use of a new scientific method in the class of speculations
which occupied him. Sir William was the first writer to
make iise of the phrase which for nearly a century after-
wards was employed to describe the use of figures in the
investigation of the phenomena of human society. He
called his book on the subject, which was published
in 1683, Five Essays in Political .Arithmelick. Other
\vriters, of whom Halley, the celebrated mathematician
and astronomer, was one, entered on similar investigations,
and during the greater part of the 18th century the num-
ber of persons who devoted themselves to " arithmetical "
inquiries into problems of the class now known as statis-
tical was steadily increasing. Much attention was given
to the construction of tables of mortality, a subject which
had a great attraction for mathematicians, who were eager
to eqiploy the newly-discovered calculus of probabilities on
concrete problems. Besides Halley, De Moivre, Laplace,
and Euler busied themselves with this branch of study.
Attempts were also m^de to deal with figures as the
basis of political and fiscal discussion by Arthur Young,
Hume, and other historical writers, as well as by the two
Mirabeaus.
It is now necessary to return to Siissmilch, who, as
already mentioned, endeavoured to form a general theory
of society, based on what were then termed " arithmetical "
premisses, treated nearly on the lines laid down by Achen-
wall. In modern language, he made use of quantitative
aggregate-observation as an instrument of social inquiry.
It is true he did not enter on his investigation with an
"open mind." He desired to support a foregone conclu-
.".ion, as. the title of his work already mentioned shows.
But nevertheless his work was a most valuable one, .since
it pointed out a road which others who had no desire to
procure evidence in favour of a particular system of
thought were not slow to follow. M. Block makes the
following remarks on the influence exercised on his con-
temporaries by the work of Siissmilch : — " If the author of
the Gutlliclie Ordnung had been a professor his influence
would have been much greater than it was. In maintain-
ing that the movement of population is subject to law,
that there is a regularity in the recurrence of -such pheno-
mena which allows of their being foreseen, he cast into the
public mind a leaven which ha.-' evidently contributed to
the progress of science." ' Althongh for many years after
the appearance of Siissmilch's book there was a good deal
of resistance to the introduction of "arithmetic" as th&
coadjutor of moral and political investigations, yet, practi-
cally there was a tacit admission of the usefulness of
figures, even by the chiefs of the so-called "descriptive"
school. On the other .hand Siissmilch's success was the
origin of a " mathematical " school of statisticians, some of
whom carried their enthusiasm for figures so far that they
refused to allow any place for mere "descriptions" at all.
These two schools have now coalesced, each admitting the
importance of the point of view urged by the'other. They
were, however, still perceptibly distinct even as late as
1850, and the ignorant hostility with which many people
even among the cultivated classes still regard statistical
inquiries into the nature of human society may be re-
garded as a survival of the much stronger feeling which
showed itself among "orthodox", professors of law and
economics on the publication of Siissmilch's treatise.
M. Block is of opinion that the descriptive school, by
whom figures are regarded merely as accessories to and
illustrations of the text, would have maintained its position
even now but for the establishment of oSicial statistical
ofiices and the influence of the great Belgian Quetelet.
Quetelet's work was certainly " epoch-making" in a far
higher degree than that of any of his predecessors. To
the impulse created by him must be attributed the founda-
tion in 1835 of the Statistical Society of London, a body
which, though it has contributed little to the discussion of
the. theory of statistics, has had a considerable and very
useful influence on the practical work of carrying out
statistical .investigations in the United Kingdom and
elsewhere. Quetelet's works were numerous and multi-
farious, but his most important contribution to the growth of
statistical inquiry was his investigation of the theory of pro-
babilities as applied. to the "physical and social" sciences,
contained in a series of letters to the duke of Saxe-Coburg
and Gotha, and published in 1846. Quetelet was above
all things an exponent of the " laws of large numbers."
He was especially fascinated with the tendency to relative
constancy of magnitude displayed by the figures of moral
statistics, especially those of crime, which inspired him
with a certain degree of pessimism. His conception of
an average man {l-liomme moyen) and his disquisition on
the " curve of possibility " were most important contribu-
tions to the technical development of the statistical
method, though, as M. Block observes, their value may
have been somewhat -exaggerated by subsequent writers
(Block, ch. i. p. 16, and ch. v. p. 112 sq.). It is not
possible to enter at length into Quetelet's work in con-
nexion with statistical science. At the close of this article
will be found a list including those of his works which are
likely to be of use to students of statistics.
The influence exercised by Quetelet on the development
of statistics is clearly seen from the fact that, though there
is still considerable controversy among statisticians, the
old controversy between the " descriptive " and arith-
metical schools has disappeared, or perhaps we should say
has been transformed into a discussion of another kind,
the question now at issue being whether there is a science
STATISTICS
463
of statistics as well as a statistical method. It is true that
a few books wero published between 1830 and 1850 in
which the politico-geographical description of a country is
spoken of as "statistics," which is thus distinguished from
" political arithmetic." The title of Knies's great work,
Die Statistik aU sdbstdndige Wissenschaft (Cassel, 1850), is
especially noteworthy as showing that the nature of the
controversy was changing. The opponents of Sussmilch
maintained that "political arithmetic" ought not to be
'spoken of as statistics at all. They clung to the concep-
tions of Conring and Achenwall, to whom "statistics"
represented " Staatenkunde " or "Staatszustandskunde,"
or, as Herzberg, one of Achenwall's followers, called it,
"die Kenutniss von der politischen Verfassung der Staaten."
Knies claimed that the really "scientific" portion of
statistics consisted of the figures employed. As Haushofer
says, " his starting point is political arithmetic."
Some eminent statisticians of the latter half of the
present century agree with Knies, but the majority of the
modern writers on the theory of statistics have adopted a
slightly different view, according to which statistics is at
once a science relating to the social life of man and a
method of investigation applicable to all sciences. Tiiis
view is ably maintained by Mayr, Haushofer, Gabaglio,
and Block, who may be taken to represent the opinions
held by the majority of statisticians on the Continent.
Having dealt as far as was possible, within the limits of
this article, with the history of statistics, we may here
enter a little more minutely into the views of the existing
Continental school. This is all the more necessary because,
singular to say, there has been no systematic exposition
of the subject in England. Isolated dicta have beea
turnished by high authorities, such as the late Dr W. A.
Guy, Prof. Ingram, Sir Rawson W. Rawson, Mr Robert
Giffen, and to some extent also by John Stuart Mill,
Buckle, Sir George Cornewall Lewis, and other historical
and economic writers. There are also monographs on
particular points connected with the technique of statistical
investigation, such as the contribution made by Mr F. Y.
Edgeworth to the discussions at the jubilee of the Statistical
Society in 1885, and some of the observations contained
in a paper by Mr Patrick Geddes, entitled An Analysis of
the Principles of Economics, read before the Royal Society
of Edinburgh in 1884. Prof. Foxwell has also lectured
on the subject of statistics in his capacity of "Newmarch
lecturer at University College, London. But there has been
no attempt to deal with the subject in a systematic way.
tlie practice of statistical inquiry, on the other hand, has
been carried on in England with a high degree of success.
With regard to the few invasions of the domain of
theory attempted by English writers, it may be observed
that the authorities above mentioned are not unanimous.
Dr Guy as well as Sir Rawson Rawson, who handled the
subject with great ability at the jubilee meeting of the
London Statistical Society in June 1885, both claim that
statistics is to be regarded as an independent science,
apart from sociology, while Prof. Ingram, who presided
over Section F at the Dublin meeting of the British
Association in 1878, maintained that statistics cannot
occupy a position coordinate with that of sociology, and
went on to say that they " constitute only one of the aids
or adminicula of science." Mr Giffen has also expressed
himself adversely to the Continental doctrine that there
is an independent science of statistics, and this opinion
appears to be the correct one, but, as Dr Guy and Sir
Rawson Rawson have the support of the great body of
systematic teaching emanating from distinguished Con-
tinental statisticians in support of their view, while their
opponents have so far only the obiter dicta of a few eminent
men to rely upon, it appears needful to examine closely
the views held by the Continental authorities, and the
grounds on which they are based,
The clearest and shortest definition of the science of
statistics as thus conceived is that of M. Block, who
describes it as "la science do I'homme vivant en soci^t^
en tant qu'elle pent fitre exprimdc par lea chiffres." He
proposes to give a new name to the branch of study thus
defined, namely, "Demography." Mayr's definition is
longer. He defines the statistical science as " die systema-
tische Darlegung und Erorterung der thatsachlichen Vor-
gange und der aus diesen sich ergebenden Gesetze des
gesellschaftlichen menschlichen Lebens auf Grundlage
quantitativer Massenbeobachtungen" (the systematic state-
ment and explanation of actual events, and of the laws
of man's social life that may be deduced from these, on
the basis of the quantitative observation of aggregates).
Qabaglio's view is practically identical with those adopted
by Mayr and Block, though it is differently expressed.
He says " statistics may be interpreted in an extended and
in a restricted sense. In the former sense it is a method,
in the latter a science. As a science it studies the actual
social-political order by means of mathematical induction."
This discussion regarding the nature of statistics is to a
large extent a discussion about names. There is really
no difference of opinion among statistical experts as to
the subject-matter of statistics, the only question being —
Shall statistics be termed a science as well as a method %
That there are some investigations in which statistical
procedure is employed which certainly do not belong to
the domain of the supposed statistical science is generally
admitted. But, as already shown, an attempt has been
made to claim that the phenomena of human society, or
some part of those phenomena, constitute the subject-
matter of an independent statistical science. It is not easy
to see why this claim should be admitted. There is no
reason either of convenience or logic why the use of a certain
scientific method should be held to have created a science
in one department of inquiry, while in others the said
method is regarded merely as an aid in investigation
carried on under the superintendence of a science already
in existence. It is impossible to get over the fact that in
meteorology, medicine, and other physical sciences statist-
ical inquiries are plainly and obviously examples of the
employment of a method, like microscopy, spectrum
analysis, or the use of the telescope. Why should the
fact of their employment in sociology be considered as
authorizing the classification of the phenomena thus dealt
with to form a new science ?
The most effective argument put forward by the advo-
cates of this view is the assertion thtt statistics are
merely a convenient aid to investigation in the majority
of sciences, but are the sole method of inquiry in the case
of sociology. Dr Mayr especially (Gesetimassigkeit, &c.,
p. 14 sq.) makes use of this argument, and illustrates
it with his usual ability; but his reasoning is very far
from being conclusive. When, indeed, it is tested by
reference to the important class of social facts which are
named economic, it becomes obvious that the argumont
breaks down. Economics is "a branch — the only scienti-
fically organized branch — of sociology, and statistics are
latgely used in it, but no one, so far as we are aware, has
proposed to call economics fi, department of statistical
science. Sir Rawson W. Rawson, it is true, hf.8 boldly
proposed to throw over the term "sociology" altogether,
and to describe the study of man in the social state as
" statistics," but common usage is too firmly fixed to make
this alteration of nomenclature practicable even if it were
desirable. ' The existence of the works of Mr Herbert
Spencer and Dr Schaffle alone would render the attempted
alteration abortive.
464
STATISTICS
Although, however, the above considerations forbid the
acceptance of the- Continental opinion that the study of
man in the social state is identical with statistics, it must
be admitted that without statistics the uafure of human
society could never become known. For society is an
aggregate, or rather a congeries of aggregates. Not only
that, but the individuals composing these aggregates are
not in juxtaposition, and what is, from the sociological
point of view, the same aggregate or organ of the " body
politia" is not always composed of the same individuals.
Constancy of social form is maintained concurrently with
the most extensive changes in the collocation and identity
of the particles composing the form. A " nation " is really
changed, so far as the individuals composing it are con-
cerned, every moment of time by the operation of the laws
of population. But the nation, considered sociologically,
remains the same in spite of this slow change in the
particles composing it, just as a human being is considered
to be the same person year by year, although year by year
the particles forming his or her body are constantly being
destroyed and fresh particles substituted. Of course the
analogy between the life of a human being and the life of a
human community must not be pressed too far. Indeed, in
several respects human communities more nearly resemble
some of the lower forms of animal life than the more
highly organized forms of animal existence. There are
organisms which are flssiparous, and when cut in two form
two fresh independent organisms, so diffused is the vitality
of the original organism ; and the same phenomenon may
be observed in regard to human communities.
Now the only means whereby the grouping of the
individuals forming a social organism can be ascertained,
and the changes in the groups year by year observed, is
the statistical method. Accordingly the correct view
seems to be that it is the function of this method to make
perceptible facts regarding the constitution of society on
■which sociology is to base its conclusions. It is not
claimed, or ought not to be claimed, that statistical inves-
tigation can supply the whole of the facts a knowledge
of which will enable sociologists to form a correct theory
of the social life of man. The statistical method is
essentially a mathematical procedure, attempting to give
a quantitative expression to certain facts ; and the resolu-
tion of differences of quality into differencgs of quantity
has not yet been effected even in chemical science. In
sociological science the importance of differences of quality
is enormous, and the effect of these differences on the con-
clusions to be drawn from figures is sometimes neglected,
or insufficiently recognized, even by men of unquestionable
ability and good faith. The majority of politicians, social
"reformers," and amateur handlers of statistics generally
are in the habit of drawing the conclusions that seem good to
them from such figures as they may obtain, merely by treat-
ing as homogeneous quantities which are heterogeneous,
and as comparable quantities which are not comparable.
Even to the conscientious and intelligent inquirer the
difficulty of avoiding mistakes in using statistics prepared
by other persons is very great. There are usually " pit-
falls" even in the simplest statistical statement, the
position and nature of which are known only to the
persons who have actually handled what may be called
the " raw material " of the statistics in question ; and in
regard to complex statistical statements the " outsider "
cannot be too careful to ascertain from those who com-
piled them as far as Bossible what are the points requir-
ing elucidation.
The Statistical Method. — This method is a scientific pro-
cedure (1) whereby certain phenomena of aggregation not
perceptible to the senses are rendered perceptible to the
intellect, and (2) furnishing rules for the correct perform-
ance of the quantitative observation of these phenomena.
Thei class of phenomena of aggregation referred to includes
only such phenomena as are too large to be perceptible to
the senses. It does not, e.//., include such phenomena as
are the subject-matter of microscopy. Things which are
very large are often quite as difficult to perceive as those
which are very small. A familiar example of this is the
difficulty which is sometimes experienced in finding the
large names, as of countries or province.';, on a map. Gf
course the terms "large," "too large," "small," and "too
small " must be used with great caution, and with a clear
comprehension on the part of the person using them of the
standard of measurement implied by the terms in each
particular case. A careful study of the first few pages of
De Morgan's Differential anj Inteijral Calculus will mate-
rially assist the student of statistics in attaining a grasp of
the principles on which standards of measurement should
be formed. It is not necessary that he should become
acquainted with the calculus itself, or even possess any-
thing more than an elementary knowledge of mathematical
science, but it is essential that he should be fully conscious
of the fact that "large" and "small " quantities can only
be so designated with propriety by reference to a common
standard.
S&urces whence Statistics are Derived. — The term "statistics"
in the concrete sense means systematic arrangements of figures
representing "primary statistical quantities." A primary statist-
ical quantity is a number obtained from numbers representing
phenomena, with a view to enable an observer to perceive a certain
other phenomenon related to the former as whole to parts. They
represent either a phenomenon of existence at a given point of time
or a phenomenon of accretion during a given period. As examples
may be mentioned the number of deaths in a given district during
a given time, the number of pouflds sterling received by the London
and North Western Kailway during a given time, and the number
of "inches of rain " that fell at Greenwich during a given time;
Other examples are the number of tons of pig-ii-on lying in a par-
ticular store at a given date, the number of persons residing (the
term "residing" to be specially defined) in a given territory at a
given date, and the number of pounds sterling representing the
"private deposits " of the Bank of England at a given date.
Primary Statistical Quaniiiies are the result of labours carried
on either (A) by Governments or (B) by individuals or public or
private corporations.
A. Government Statistics. — (1) A vast mass of statistical material
of more or less value comes into existence automatically in modern
states in consequence of the ordinary administrative routine of
departments. To this class belong the highly important statistical
information published in England by the registrar-general, the
returns of pauperism issued by the Local Government Board, the
reports of inspectors of prisons, factories, schools, and those of
sanitary inspectors, as well as the reports of the commissioners of
the customs, and the annual statements of ti'ade and navigation
prepared by the same officials. There are also the various returns
compiled and issued by the Board of Trade, which is the body most
nearly resembling the statistical bureaus mth which most foreign
Governments are furnished. Most of the Government departments
publish some statistics for which they are solely responsible as
regards both matter and form, and they are very jealous of their
right to do so, a fact which is to some extent detrimental to that
uniformity as to dates and periods which should bo the ideal of a
well-organized system of statistics. Finally may be mentioned tfio
very important set of statistical quantities known as the budget,
and the statistics prepared and published by the jcommissioners of
inland revenue, by the post office, and by the national debt com-
missioners. All these sets of .primary statistical -quantities arise
out oi the ordinary work of departments of the public service.
Many of them have been in existence, in some form or other, ever
since a settled Government existed in the country. There are
records of customs receipts at London and other ports of the time
of Edward IIL, covering a period of many years, which leave
nothing to be desired in point of precision and uniformity. It
may be added that many of these sets of figures are obtained in
much the same form by all civilized Governments, and that it is
often possible to compare the figures relating to different countries,
and thus obtain evidence as to the sociological phenomena of each,
but in regard to others there are differences which make comparison
difficult.
(2) Besides being responsible for the issue of what ir.Ay be
called administration statistics, all Governments are in the habit of
ordering from time to time special inqviiries into special subjects
STA.TISTICS
465
of interest, either to obtain additional information needful for
administrative purposes, or, in countries possessed of representative
institutions, to supply statistics asked ior by parliaments or con-
gresses. It is not necessary to refer particiJarly to this class of
statistical information, except in the case of the census. This is
an inquiry of such great importance that it may be regarded as one
of the regular administrative duties of Governments, though as the
census is only taken once in a series of years it must be mentioned
under the head of occasional or special inquiries undeitakeu by
Governments. In the United Kiugdom the work is done by the
registrars-general who are in office when the period for taking the
census comes round. On the Continent the work is canied out
by the statistical bureaus of each country, — except France, where
it is under the supervision of the minister of, the interior. For
further information on this subject reference may be made to the
fxccllent chapter in M. Maurice Block's JVat'W entitled " Recense-
ment." See also "Instructions to the Superintendent Registrar
of Births and Deaths as to his duties in taking the Census,'; 1871 ;
also Census, vol. v. p. 334 sq.
B. The primary statistical quantities for which individuals or
corporations are responsible may be divided into three categories.*
(1) Among those which are compiled in obedience to the law of
the land are the accounts furnished by municipal corporations, by
railway, gas, water, banking, insurance, and other public companies
making returns to the Board of Trade, by trades unions, and by
other bodies which are obliged to make returns to the registrar of
friendly societies. The information thus obtained is published in
full by the departments receiving it, and is also furnished by the
companies themselves to their proprietors or members.
(2) An enormous mass of statistical information is furnished
voluntarily by public companies in the reports and accounts
which, in accordance with their articles of association, are pre-
sented to their proprietors at stated intervals. With these
statistics may be classed the figures furnished by the various trade
associations, some of them of great importance, such as Lloyd's,
the London Stock Exchange, the British Iron Trade Association,
the London Corn Exchange, the Institute of Bankers, the Institute
of Actuaries, and other such bodies too numerous to mention.
(3) There are cases in which individuals have devoted themselves
with more or less success to obtaining original statistics on special
points. The great work done by Messrs Behm and Wagner in
ariiving at an approximate estimate of the population of Ihe earth
does not belong to this category, though its results are really
primary statistical quantities. Many of these results have not been
arrived at by a direct process of enumeration at all, but by ingeni-
ous processes of inference. It need hardly be said that it is not
easy for individuals to obtain the materials for any primary
statistical quantity of importance, but it has been done in some
cases with success.
Operations Performed on Primary Statistical Qtuintities. — Only
a brief description of inattois connected with the technique of the
statistical method can be given in this article. In order to form
statistics properly so called the primary statistical quantities must
be formed into tables, and in the formation of these tables lies the
art of the statistician. It is not a very diJficult art when the prin-
ciples relating to it have been properly grasped, but those who are
unfamiliar with the subject are apt to underrate the difficulty of
correctly practising it
Simple Tables. — The first thing to be done in the construction
a table is to form a clear idea of what the table is to show, and to
express that idea in accurate language. This is a matter which is
often neglected, and it is a source of much waste of time and
occasionally of misapprehension to those who have to study the
figures thus presented. No table ought to be considered complete
without a "heading" accurately describing its contents, and it is
frequently necessary that such headings should be rather long. It
has been said that " you can prove anything by statistics. " This
statement is of course absurd, taken absolutely, but, like most
assertions which are widely believed, it has a grain (ff truth in it.
If this popular saying ran "you can prove anything by tables with
slovenly and ambiguous headings," it might be assented to without
hesitation. The false " statistical " facts which obtain a hold of
the public mind may often be traced to some widely circulated
table, to which either from stupidity or carelessness an erroneous
or inaccurate "heading" has been affixed.
A statistical table in its simplest f'-rm consists of " primaries "
representing phenomena of the same class, but existing at dilTercnt
points of time, or coming into existence during different portions
of time. This is all that is essential to a table, though other things
are usually added to it as an aid to its comprehension. A table
stating the number of persons residing in eacn county of England
on a given day of a given year, and also, in another column, the
corresponding numbers for the same counties on the corresponding
day of the tenth year subsequently, would bo a simple tabular
statement of the general facts regarding the total population of
those counties BUj>plied by two successive censuses. Various
pgures might, however, bo added to it which would greatly add to
its cleamesi!. There might oe columns showing the increase or
decrease for each county and for the whole kingdom during the
ten yeai-s, and another column showing what proportion, expressed
in percentages, these increases or decreases bore to the figures for
the earlier of the two years. Then there might be two columns
showing what proportions, also expressed as percentages, the
figures for each county bore in each year to the figures, for the
whole kingdom. The nine-column table thus resulting would
still be simple, all the figures being merely explicit assertions of
facts which are contained implicitly in the original "primaries."
Complex Tables. — Suppose now wo have a,iother table precisely
similar in form to the first, and also relating to the counties of
England, but giving the number of houses existing in each of them
at the same two dates. A combination of the two would form a
complex table, and au application of the processes of arithmetic
would make evident a number of fresh facts, all of which would be
implied in the table, but would not be obvious to most people unti;
explicitly stated.
The technical work of the statistician consists largely in opera-
tions of which the processes just referred to are types.
Proporlioixs. — The most usual and the best mode of expressing
the proportion borne by one statistical quantity to another is to
state it as a percentage. In some cases another method is adopted
— namely, that of stating the proportion in the form "one in so
many." This method is generally a bad one, and its use should
be discouraged as much as possible, the chief reason being thai,
the changing portion of this kind of proportional figure becomes
greater or less inversely, and not directly, as the phenomenon it
represents increases or diminishes.
Averages. — Averages or means are for statistical purposes
divided into two classes, the geometrical and arithmetical. An
arithmetical mean is the sum of all the members forming the
series of figures under consideration divided by their number,
without reference to their weight or relative importance among
themselves. A geometrical mean is the sum of such figures
divided by their number, with due allowance made for their
weight An example will make this clear, and the simplest exam-
ple is taken from a class of statistical quantities of a peculiar kind
-^namely, prices. The price of a given article is the approximate
mathematical expression of the rates, in terms of money, at which
exchanges of the article for money were actually made at or about
a given hour on a given day. A quotation of price such as appears
in a daily price list is, if there has been much fluctuation, only a
very rough guide to the actual rates of exchange that have been
the basis of the successive bargains making up the day's business.
But let us suppose that the closing price each day may be accepted
as a fair representative of the day's transactions, and let us further
suppose that we desire to obtain the average price for thirty days.
Now the sum of the prices in question divideu by thirty would be
the arithmetical mean, and its weak point would bo that it made
no allowance for the fact that the business done on some days is
much larger than that done on others ; in other words, it treats
them as being all of equal weight. Now if, as is actually the caso
in some markets, we have a daily account of the total quantities
sold we can weight tho members accurately, and can then obtain
their geometrical mean. There are cases in which the careless use
of arithmetical means misleads tho student of the social organism
seriously. It is often comparatively easy to obtain arithmetical
means, but difficult to obtain geometrical means. Inferences based
on the former class of average should be subjected to the most
rigid investigation.
Before closing this short survey of the very important subject of
averages or means, it is needful to discuss briefly the nature of the
phenomena which they may safely be regarded as indicating, when
they hare been properly obtained. Given a geometric mean of a
series of numbers referring to no matter what phenomenon, it is
obvious that the value of the mean as a type of the whole series will
depend entirely on the extent of divergence from it of the members of
the series as a body. If we are told that there are in a certain district
1000 men, and that their average height is 6 feet 8 inches, and are
told nothing further about them, we can make various hypotheses
as to tho structure of this body from the point of view of height.
It is possible that they may consist of a rather largo number of
men about ti feet high, and a great many about 6 feet 6 inches.
Or tho proportions of relatively tall and short men mav be reversed,
that is, there may be a rather large number of men about 5 feet i
inches, and a moderate number of men about 5 feet 11 inches. It
is also possible that there may bo very few men whoso height is
exactly 6 feet 8 inches, and that tho bulk of tho whole body con-
sists of two largo groups — one of giants and tho other of dwarfs.
Lastly, it is possible that 5 feet 8 inches may really give a fair idea
of the height of tho majority of the men, which it would do if (say)
660 of thein were within an inch of that height either by excess or
deficiency, while of tho remainder ono half were all above 6 foot t<
inches and tho other half all below 5 feet 7 inches. This latter
Bupjiositiou would most likely be found to bo approximately cnrn-ct
if the men belonged to a race whoxo averogo height wo.s 6 fi-ct 8
466
S T A— S T A
inches, and if they had beetf collected by chance. The extent of
the divergence of the items composing an average from the average
itself may be accurately measured and expressed in percentages of
the average, the algebraic signs + and - being employed to indicate
the direction of the variation from the mean. An average may,
therefore, advantageously be supplemented — (1) by a figure showing
what proportion of the members from which it is derived differ from
the average by a relatively small quantity, and (2) by figures show-
ing the ma.vimum and minimum deviations from the average. The
meaning of the term "relatively small" must be considered inde-
pendently in each investigation. Further remarks on averages will
*>e found in the works mentioned at the conclusion of this article.
Prices. — Reference has already been made to the peculiar class
of statistical quantities known as prices. Prices in their widest
sense include all figures expressing rah'os «/■ czcAanjrc. In modern
society the terms of e.\change are always expressed in money, and
th.. things for which money is exchanged are — (1) concrete entities
with physical attributes, such as iron or wheat; (2) immediate
rights, such as those given by interest-bearing securities of all kinds,
by bills of exchange, by railway or steamship contracts to carry
either passengers -or goods, and by bargains relative to the foreign
exchanges ; (3) contingent rights, such as those implied in policies
of insurance. AU these rates of exchange belong to the same
category, whether they are fixed within certain limits by law, as
in the. case of railway charges, or are left to be determined by the
"higgling of the market." All these cases of price may con-
ceivably come within the operation of the statistical method, but
the only matter cormected with price which it is necessary to refer
to here is the theory of the index number.
Index Numbers. — The need for these became conspicnous dur-
ing the investigations of Tooke, Newniarch, and othera into the
general cyclical movements of the prices of commodities; "and to
construct a good system of these may be said to be one of the
highest technical aims of the statistical method. In comparing
the prices of different years it was soon observed thaX, though whole
groups of articles moved upwards or do\vnwards simultaneously,
they did not all move in the, same proportion, and that there were
nearly always pases in which isolated articles or groups of articles
moved in the opposite direction to the majority of .articles. The
problem presented to statisticians therefore was and is to devise a
statistical expression of the general movement of prices, in which
all prices should be adequately represented. The first rough
approximation to the desired resulfwas attained by setting down
the percentages representing the movements, with their proper
algebraic signs before them, and adding them together algebraically.
The total with its proper sign was then divided by the number of
articles, and the quotient represented the movement in the prices
of the whole body of articles during the period under considera-
tion. It was soon seen, however, that this procedure was fatally
defective, inasmuch as it treated all prices as' of equal weight.
Cotton wcigied no more than pimento, and iron no more than
umbrellas. Accordingly an improvement was made in the pro-
cedure, first by giving the prices of several different articles into
which cotton, iron, and other important commodities entered, ainl
only one price each in the case of the minor articles, and secondly by
fixing on the price of some one article representing iron or cotton,
and multiplying it by some number selected with the view of assign-
ing to these articles their proper weights relatively to each other and
to the rest. The objection to both these plans is the same, — that
the numbers attached to the various articles or groups of articles
are purely arbitrary ; and of late years attempts have been made to
obtain what may be called natural index numbers, the most sne-
ccssful so far being that of Mr Robert Giffen, whose index numbers
are obtained from the declared values of the imports or exports
into or from the United Kingdom of the articles whose prices are
dealt with. In the case of both imports and exports Mr Gilfen
worked out the proportion borne by the value of each article to the
total value for a series of years. Deducting the " unenumerated "
articles, a series of numbers was thus obtained which could be used as
the means of weighting the prices of the articles in an investigation
of a movement of prices. This procedure is no doubt susceptible of
further improvement, like its predecessors, but it is a great advance
on the arbitrary systems of index numbers employed in them.
The Desirability of Increased Vni/omrity in Statistics. — One of the
most serious difficulties in connexion with statistical investigations
is the variety of the modes in which primaries of the same order
arc obtained, as regards dates and periods. This is a matter of
which all persons who have occasion to use statistics are made
painfully aware from time to time. Some attempts have lately
been made to introduce more harmony into the official statistics of
the United Kingdom, and some years ago- a committee of the
Treasury sat to inquire into the matter. The committee received
a good deal of evidence, and presented a report, from which, how-
ever, certain members of the committee dissented, preferring to
express their views separately. The evidence will be found very
interesting by all who wish to obtain an insight into the genesis
of the official statistics of the country. The report and evidence
were published in the June number o{ Xhe Joitnial of the Statistical
Society for 1S81, as well as in the usual official fonn.
The International Institute of Statistics. — The absence of uni-
formity in statistics which is felt in England is not so marked in
foreign countries, where the principle of centralization in arrange-
ments of a political character is more powerful than it is here. In
several Continental countries and in the United States there are
statistical bureaus with definite duties to perform. In the United
Kingdom, as already remarked, the nearest approach to a central
statistical office is the Commercial and Statistical Department of the
Board of Trade, on which the work of furnishing such statistics as
are not definitely recognized as mthin the province of some other
state department usually Jails. Various attempts have been made
to introduce more uniformity into the statistics of all countries.
It was with this object that statistical congresses have met from
time to time since 1853. An endeavour was made at the congress
held in 1870 at Budapest to arrange for the publication of a system
of international statistics, each statistical bureau undertaking a
special branch of the subject. The experiment was, however,
foredoomed to be only a very partial success, first because all
countries were not then and are not j'et furnished with central
statistical offices, and secondly because the work which fell on the
offices in existence could only be performed slowly, as the ordinary
business of the offices necessarily left them little leisure for extra
work. In 1885, at the jubilee of the London Statistical Society,
a mimber of eminent statistical officials from all parts of the world
except Germany were present, and the opportunity-was taken to
organize an International Institute of Statistics with a view to
remedying the defects already ascertained to exist in the arrange-
ments made by the congresses. The only obstacle to securing a
proper representation of all countries was the absence of any German
delegates, none of the official beads of the German statistncal office
being allowed to attend, — apparently on political grounds. Since
then assurances of a satisfactory kind have been given to the
German Government that their servants would he in no way
committed to any course disapproved by that Government if they
gave their assistance to the institute, from the formation of which
it is hoped that much advantage may result. For information as
to the constitution and objects of the institute reference may be
made to a paper by Dr F. X. von Neumann-Spallart in vol. i
(1886) of the Bulletin de VInstilut International de Statistique
(Rome, 188e).
LxCe-ature. — Maarice Block, Tniti Th^orique et Pratique de Staiifiique, Paris,
187S; Luigi Bodio, Leila Statiitica nei suoi Rapporti coiV. Economia Potiti4a. &c»
Milan, 18C9; Antonio Gabaglio, Storiae Teoria Generate delta Statislica, Milan,
:S80; .Max Haushofer, Leiir- u. Sandbuch der Slaliillt, 2d ed., Vienna, 1882;
K. Knies, Die £!alistil: als selbstdndige WisS€7.sf:ha/t , Caasel, 1850 ; GeorK Mayr,
Die Gesflirnd^sigieit im Gesellsc/ta/lsleben, Munich, 1877 (abridged translation in
Joum. Scat. Soc.. Sept. 1883; the work lias also been translated into Italian wiih
valuable notes by G. B. Salvioni, Tutin, 1886) ; Adolphe Quetelet, Tarions
woJiis, but especially that entitled Sur VEomme et le Diveloppenient de $a
FacuUes, ou Essai de Physique Sociale. 2 vols., Paris. 1835, and Lttlers on the
Theory of Probabilities, already referred to; Albert; C. F. SchaflBe, Bau und
Leben des ■ socialen Korpers, Tiibingen, 1881 ; Herbert Spencer, Principles oj
Socially, especially part ii. pp. 466 sq.; Adolf Wagner, article "Statistik" in
Buntsoull-Brater's Slaalswarlerbuch, vol. X. CW. HO.)
STATIUS, Publics Papinius, Eoman poet, lived
from about 45 to 96 a.d., so far as can be judged from
indications afforded by his poems. He was, to a great
extent, boin and trained to the profession of a poet. The
Statii were of GraEco-Campanian origin, and were gentle,
though impoverished, and the family records were not
without political distinctions. The elder Statins, our
poet's father, was the Orbilius of his time, and taught with
distinguished success at Naples and Rome. From boy-
hood to age he proved himself a champion in the poetic
tournaments which formed an important part of the amuse-
ments of the early empire. The younger Statins declares
that his fathir was in his time equal to any literary task,
whether in prose or verse. Probably our poet inherited a
modest competence and was not under the necessity of
begging his bread from wealthy patrons. So far as appears
he never pursued any occupation but that of poet, as poor
an occapation in those days as in ours, if we may believe
Juvenal and Martial. Statins certainly WTOte poems to
order (as Silvae, i. 1, 2, ii. 7, and iii. '4), but there is
no indication that the' material return for them was im-
portant to him. In his seventh satire Juvenal speaks of
the im.iiense public enthusiasm which attended the recitar-
tion of the Tkehais, when the benches " were breaking "
with applause ; but the poet, he says, might Lave starved
had not Paris, the favourite comedian of the day, bought
from him the libretto of a comic opera. This reference
S T A T I U S
467
of Juvenal deserves, however, as little to be accepted
literally as Lis misleading allusions to Quintilian in the
same satire. Of events in the life of Statins we know
little. He married early a young widow, for whom he
expresses tender affection in some of the few obviously
sincere verses he ever wrote. From his boyhood he was
victorious in poetic contests,— many times at his native
city Naples, -thrice at Alba, where he received the golden
crown from the hand of the' emperor. But at the great
Capitoline competition (probably on its third celebration
in 94 A.D.) Statius failed to win the coveted chaplet of
oak leaves. No doubt the extraordinary popularity of
his Tkebais had led him to regard himself as the supreme
poet of the age, and when he could not sustain this
reputation in the face of rivals from all parts of the
empire he accepted the judges' verdict as a sign that his
day was past, and retired to Naples, the home of his
ancestors and of his own young days. We still possess
the poem he addressed to his wife on this occasion (Sitv.,
iii. 6). It was a hard task to overcome her objections to
turning her back upon the great capital. Chief among
them was that which arose from a fear lest it should prove
difficult to find in Naples a husband for her daughter (by
her first marriage ; she had no children by Statius).
There are hints in this poem which naturally lead to the
surmise that Statius was suffering from a loss of the
emperor's favour ; he may have felt that a word from
Domitian would have won for him the envied garland,
and that the word ought to have been given. In the
preface to book iv. of the Silvae there is mention of
detractors who hated our poet's style, and these may have
succeeded in inducing a new fashion in poetry at court.
Such an eclipse, if it happened, must have cut Statius to
the heart. He appears to have relished thoroughly the
role of court-poet. The statement sometimes made that
the elder Statius had been the emperor's teacher, and had
bestowed many favours on him, so that the son inherited
a debt of gratitude, seems to have no solid foundation.
Statius lauds the emperor, not to discharge a debt, but
rather to create an obligation. His flattery ,is as far
removed from the gentle propitiatory tone of Quintilian as
it is from the coarse and crawling humiliation of Martial.
It is in the large extravagant style of a nature in itself
healthy and generous, which has accepted the theme and
left scruples behind. In one of his prefatory epistles
Statius declares that he never allowed any work of his to
go forth without invoking the godhead of the divine
emperor. The poem on the equestrian statue of Domi-
tian set up on the Capitol {Silv., i. 1) is such colossal
rodomontade that if the emperor had had a grain of
humour in hia composition he must have died of merri-
ment on receiving it. Statius had taken the full measure
of Domitian's gross taste, and carefully puts conscience
and sincerity out of view, lest some uneasy twinge should
mar his master's, enjoyment. But in one poem, that in
which the poet pays his due for an invitation to the im-
perial table, wo have sincerity enough. Statius clearly
feels all the raptures he expresses. He longs for the power
of him who told the tale of Dido's banquet, and for the
voice of him who sang the feast of Alcinous, that ho may
give forth utterance worthy of the lofty theme. The poet
seemed, he says, to dine with groat Jove himself and to
receive nectar from Ganymede tho cup-bearer (aa odious
reference to the imperial favourite Earinus). AH his life
hitherto has been barren and profitless. Now only has he
begun to live in truth. "O ruler over all the lands, and
mighty father of tho world which thou hast conquered,
do I, recumbent, see thee, thou hope of all mankind, and
nursling of all the gods ? Is it mine to gaze from near at
Laud on thy features, with tho wine-cup and tho feast
beside me, while I am forlidaen to }-ue1" The palace
struck on the poet's fancy like the very hall of heaven ;
nay, Jovo himself marvels at its beauty, but is glad that
the emperor should possess such an earthly habitation; he
will thus feel less desire to seek his destined abode among
the immortals in the skies. Yet even so gorgeous a palace
is all too mean for his greatness and too small for his vast
presence. "But it is himself, himself, that my eager
eye has alone time to scan. He is like a resting Mars or
Bacchus or Alcides." Martial too owore that, were Jove
and Domitian both to invite him to dinner for the same
day, he would prefer to dine with the greater potentata
on the earth. Pliny, however, has sketched for us the
state dinners of Domitian, where the coarse contempt of
the tyrant overclouded the guests, and where a man who
still respected himself had torments to endure. Martial
and Statius were no doubt supreme among the imperial
flatterers. Each was tho other's only serious rival. It is
therefore not surprising that neither should breathe the
other's name. Even if we could by any stretch excuse the
bearing of Statius towards Domitian, he could never be
forgiven the poem entitled " The Hair of Flavins Earinus,"
Domitian's Ganymede (Silv., iii. 4), a poem than which it
would be hard to find a more repulsive example of real
poetical talent defiled for personal ends. Well for Statius
that he did not, like Martial, live on into the days of Nerva
to write sorry palinodes I Everything points to the con-
clusion that he did not survive his emperor — that he died,
in fact, a short time after leaving Rome to settle in Naples.
Apart from the emperor and his minions, the friendships
of Statius with men of high station seem to have been
maintained on fairly equal terms. He was clearly the poet
of society in his day as well as the poet of the court.
As poet, Statius unquestionably shines in many resjiects when
compared with the otlier post-Augustaus. Ho was liorn witU
exceptional talent, and his poetic expression is, with all its faults,
richer on the whole and less forced, more buoyant and more felic-
itous, than is to be found elsewhere in the Silver Age of Latin poetry.
Statius is at his best in his occasional verses, tho ''Silvae," wl-.ich
have a character of their own, and in their best parts a charm cf
their own. The title was proper to verges of rapid workmanship,
on everyday themes. Statius prided himself on his powers of
improvisation, and he seems to have been quite equal to the
Horatian feat of dictating two hundred lines in an hour, while
standing on one leg. Theimprovisatoro was in high honour among
the later Greeks, as Cicero's speech for the poet Archias indicates;
and the poetic contests common in the early empire did much to
stimulate ability of the kind. Statius speaks of his "Silvae"
(preface to book i.) as having "streamed from him under the
indiicnco of sudden inspiration, and with a certain pleasure dtie
to their rapidity." No one poem occupied more than two days ;
some came to birth at the dinner table ; many while the poet's
friend Pollius sat by his side, and shuddered at tho audacity of
his pen (preface to book iii.). It is to this velocity that the poems
owe their comparative freshness and freedom, along with their loose
texture and their inequality. There are thirty-two poems, divided
into five books, each with a dedicatory epistle. Of nearly four
thousand lines which the books contain, more than five-sixths nro
hexameters. Four of the pieces (containing about 450 lines) are
written in the hcndecasyllabic metre, tho " tiny metro of Catullus,"
and there is one Alcaic nnd one Sapphic ode. But the poems in
these metres are merely the experiments of a poet who knows well
that his strength lies in tho hexameter, which in his hands shows
greater freedom, variety, and music than it exhibits when handled
by other poets of tho Silver Latin Age. Tho subjects of tlio
" Silvae" a.ra very various. Five poems arc devoted to flattery o(
tho emperor and his favourites ; tut of these enough has already
been said. Six arc lamentations for deaths, or consolations to
survivors. Statius seems to have felt a special pride in this class
of his jiroductions ; and certainly, notwithstanding tho exccssiva
and conventional employment of pretty uiythologicol pictures,
with other alfectations, ho sounds notes of pathos such as only
come from tho true poet. There are oftentimes traits of an almoel
modern domestieily in these verses, unil Statius, tho childless, liai
hero and there touched on tho charm of cliildliood in lines for s
parallel to which, among the ancients, wo muat go, strange to sny,
to his rival Martial. One of tho cpicedia, th.it on I'rincilla th«
wife of Abascantus, Domitian's frcedman {Silv., v. ]), is full 0
interest lor tho picture it presents of tho official activity of a hig?
468
S T A — S T A
otficcr of state. Another gioup of the " Sihae " give picturesque
descriptions of the villas aud gardens of the jiocl's friends. In
these we have a more vivid representation than elsewhere of the
surroundings amid which the grandees of the early empire lived
when they took up their abode in the country. It was of these
pieces that Kiebuhr thought wlien he said that ilia poems of
Statius are charming to read in Italy. They exhibit, better even
than Pliny's well-known letters, the passion of the rich Roman
for so constructing his country house that light, air, sun, and
leafage should subserve' his luxury to the utmost, while scope
was left for displaying all the resources of art which his wealth
enabled him to command. As to the rest of the " SHvae," the
congratulatory addresses to friemls are graceful but commonplace,
nor do the jocose pieces call for sjiecial mention here. In the
" Kaleudae Decembres " we have a striking description of the gifts
and amusements provided by the emperor for the lioman popula-
tion on the occasion of the Saturnalia. In his attempt at an
jpithalamium {Silv., i. 2) Statius is forced and unhappy. But
the birthday ode in Lucan's honour {Silv., ii. 7) has, along with
the accustomed exaggeration, many powerful lines, and shows
hi^h appreciation of preceding Latin poets. Some phrases, such
as " tiie untaught muse of high-souled Ennins" and "the lofty
passion of sage Lucretius," are familiar words with all scholars.
The ode ends with a great pietureof Lucan's spirit rising after death
on wings of fame to regions whither only powerful souls can ascend,
Bcornfully Surveying earth and smiling at the tomb, or reclining
in Elysium and singing a noble strain to the Pompeys and the
Catos and all the " Pharsalian host," or with proud tread exploring
Tartarus and listening to the wailings of the guilty, and gazing at
Nero, pale with agony as his mother's avengiog torch glitters before
his eyes. It is singular to observe how thoroughly Nero had been
struck out of the imperial succession as recognized at court, so that
the " bald Nero " took no umbrage when his flatterer-in-chief
profanely dealt with his predecessor's name.
The epic poems of Statius are less interesting because cast in a
commoner mould, but they deserve study in many respects. They
are the product of long elaboration. The " Thebais," which the
poet says took twelve years to compose, is in twelve books, and has
for its theme the old "tale of Thebes " — the deadly strife of the
Theban brothers. There is also preserved a fragment of an
"AchiUeis," consisting of one book and part of another. In the
weary length of these epics there are many flowers of pathos and
many little finished gem-pictures, but the trammels of tradition,
the fashionable taste, and the narrow bars of education cheek con-
tinually the poet's flight. The public idea of what an epic poem
should be was firmly fixed, and Statius would not have towered
above the thousand poets of his day in tho estimation' of his
countrymen had he not given full embodiment to the idea. Not
merely were the materials for his epics prescribed to him by rigid
custom, but also to a great extent the method by which they were
to be treated. All he could do was to sound the old notes with a
distinctive timbre of his own. The gods must needs wage their
wonted epic strife, and the men, their puppets, must dance at their
nod ; there must needs be heavenly me.'isengers, jiortents, dreams,
miracles, single combats, similes, Homeric and Virgilian echoes,
and all the other paraphernalia of the conventional epic. But
Statius treats his subjects with a lioldness and freedom which
contrast pleasingly with the timid traditionalism of Silius Italicus
and the stiff scholasticism of Valerius Flaccus. The vocabulary
of Statius is conspicuously rich, and he shows audacity, often
successful, in the use of words and metaphors. At llic same time
he carried certain literary tricks to an aggravating pitch, in parti-
cular the excessive use of alliteration, and the misuse of mytho-
logical allusion. The most well-known persons and places are
described by epithets or periphrases derived from some very remote
connexion with mythology, so that many passages are as dark as
Heraclitus. The Thebais is badly constructed. The action of the
epic is hindered and stopped by enormous episodes, one of which fills
one sixth of the poem. Kor had Statius a firm grasp or clear imagina-
tion of character. So trying are the late ancient epics to a modern
reader that he wIk) has read any one of the three — Statius, Silius, and
Valerius (Luoan stands apart)— will with difSculty be persuaded to
enter on the other two. Yet, if he honestly reads them all, he can
hardly fail to rank Statius the highest of the three by a whole sphere.
The edilio princeps of the epics is dated 1470, of the Silvae 1472. Notable
editions since have been those of Bernanius (Antwei-p. ISS"^), Gronovius (1653),
anJ Baith (1664). Ti.t best test is the Teubner (the .4c*i'»*is and Theljais by
Ivohlmann, the Silvne by Bac3::en5). Aiiione editions of portions of Slatius's
Morlta. that of the Silvae by Jeieiniali Markland. fellow of Peterliouse in Cam-
bndge (1728> deserves specinl attention. TIip biilliance and erudition of the work
mark him out as one of the Lest Latin sch*,lars ^vho ever lived. A ciiilcal edition
of the Thehais and AchiUeis was begun by O, Jfiiller (1870) bnt not completed.
The condition of the text of the Silvae is one of the most curious facts in the
history of ancient littratuie. Poggio discovered a 5IS. nt St Gall and brought
ir int» itfl'y Thk SIS. has disappcai-ed, but fiom it at-e deiived all our existing
.MSS., pxccpt one of the biithday ode to Lucnii. now at Floicnce. ana of the lOth
rt-ntiiiy. roIl'lAa aaUai«>d PoRffio's MS. with tlic edilio princeps, aiid the collation
hanro'i'edown to us. and is the piincipal basis of the text. The MSS. of the epics
ure nutnei-uits. as was to be exi'ccted from their gieat popularity in the Middle
Airvs. to wlin.li Dante is witnfss (slc Purg., jjiL, where an interview with the
•liadu of .^atioa ia described at some length). (J. S. R^
STATUTE, 01- Act of Parliament, is a law made by the
sovereign power in the state, tlat is, the king, by and
with the adviee and consent of the lords spiritual and
temporal and commons in parliament assembled. It
forms a part of the lex sn-ipla, or written law, which by
English legal authorities ia used solely for statutory law,
a sense much narrower than it bore in Eonian law. To
make a statute the concurrence of the crown and the three
estates of the realm is necessary. Thtis a so-called statute
of 5 Kic. II. c. 5, directed, against the Lollards, was
afterwards repudiated by the Commons as passed without
their assent. The validity of a statute was indeed at
times claimed for ordinances such aa that just mentioned,
not framed in accordance with constitutional rule, and was
actually given to royal proclamations by 31 Hen. '\'TII. c.
8. But this Act was repealed by 1 Edw. VL c. 12, and
since that time nothing but a statute has possessed the
force of a statute, unless indeed certain rules or orders
depending ultimately for their sanction upon a statute
may be said to have such force. Examples of what may
be called indirect legislation of this kind are orders in
council (see Peivy Council), by-laws made under the
powers of the Public Health Act, and rules of coiut siich
as those made under the powers of the Judicature Acts
and Acts of Sederunt of the Court of Session.
The history of statutory legislation and the modem
procedure by which bills become statutes are sufficiently
treated under Act of Parli.\ment and Parliament. It
is proposed in this place to deal with the legal rather than
the political aspect of the subject, and to give a short list
of some of the mere important statutes ■which have been
passed by the legislature.
The list of statutes as at present existing begins with
the Statute of Merton, 1 235. ^ Many of the earlier statutes
are known ty the names of the places at which they M-ere
passed, e.g., the Statutes of Merton, Mar! bridge, Gloucester,
Westminster ir by their initial words, e.g., Quia Emjilores,
Circumspecfe ugatis. The earliest existing statute roll is
6 Edw. I. (the Statute of Gloucester). After 4 Hen. YII.
the statute roll ceased to be made up, and enrolments in
Chancery (first made in 1485) take its place. Some of
the Acts prior to the Statute of Gloucester are of question-
able authority, but have gained recognition by a kind of
prescription.
Ail statutes were originally public, irrespectively of their
subject matter. The division into public and private dates
from the reign of Richard III. At present statutes are of
four kinds — public general Acts, public local and personal
Acts, private Acts printed by the queen's printers, and
private Acts not so printed. The division into public
general andpublic local and personal rests upon a reso-
lution of both Houses of Parliament in. 1798. In 1815
a resolution was passed in accordance with_which private
Acts are printed, with the exception of name, estate,
naturalization, and divorce Acts. The last two are now
practically superseded by the provisions of the Divorce
Act, 1857, and the Naturalization Act, 1870. Since 1815
it has been usual to refer to public general Acts by Arabic
numerals, e.g., 5 and 6 Vict. c. 21, public local and per-
sonal Acts by small Roman numerals, e.g., 5 and 6 Vict.
c. xxi. Each Act is strictly but a chapter of the legisla-
tion of the session, which is regarded as composing a
single Act divided into chapters for convenience, the
chapters themselves being also called Acts. The citation
of previous Acts is provided for by 13 and 14 Vict. c. 21,
§3. It is now usual for each chapter or Act. to contain
' Raffliead's eiiition of the statutes begins with the Magna Carta ol
1225. But in the Itevised Statutes that form of Magna Carta whicfc
is now law appears as a statute of the year 1297. It is often known
as Coi'/irmatio Carlarum, and is a rcA^ital aud confirmation . L^
Edward I. of the chief provisions of John's charter.
STATUTE
46y
a short title by wbich it may be cited, e.g., tUe Elementary
Education Act, 1870. Sometimes a series of Acts is
grouped under a generic title, e.g., the Merchant Shipping
Acts, 1854 to 1883.» 8 and 9 Vict. c. 113, § 3, makes
evidence the queen's printers' copies of private and local
and personal Acts. A private Act not printed by the
queen's printers is proved by an examined co[)y of the
parliament roll. A public Act binds all subjects of the
realm, and need not be pleaded (except where the law from
motives of policy specially provides for pleading certain
Acts, as in the defences of not guilty by statute, the
Statute of Frauds, and the Statute of Limitations). A
private Act must generally be pleaded, and does not as a
rule bind strangers to its provisions. Formerly an Act
took effect from the first day of the session in which it
was passed. The hardship caused by this technical rule
has been obviated by 33 Geo. III. c. 13, by which an Act
takes effect from the day on which it receives the royal
assent, where no other date is named. This has been held
to mean the beginning of the day, so as to govern all
matters occurring on that day. An Act cannot in the
strict theory of English law become obsolete by disuse.
Nothing short of repeal can limit its operation. The law
has, however, been interpreted in some recent cases with
somewhat less rigour. In the case of a prosecution for
blasphemy in 1883 (Reg. v. Ramsay) Lord Coleridge said,
" though the principles of law remain unchanged, yet (and
it is one of the advantages of the common law) their
application is to be changed with the changing circum-
stances of the times."^ This would be applicable as much
to the interpretation of statutes as to other parts of the
common law. The title, preamble, and marginal notes are
strictly no part of a statute, though they may at times aid
in its interpretation.
Besides the fourfold division above mentioned, statutes
are often classed -according to their subject-matter, as
perpetual and temporary, penal and beneficial, imperative
and directory, enabling and disabling. Temporary Acts
are those which expire at a date fixed in the. Act itself.
Thus the Army Act is passed annually and continues for a
year; the Ballot Act, 1872, expired at the end of 1880, and
the Regulation of Railways Act, 1873, at the end of five
years. By means of these temporary Acts experimental
legislation is rendered possible in many cases where the
success of a new departure in legislation is dgubtful. In
every session an Expiring Laws Continuance Acl is passed
for the purpose of continuing (generally for a year) a con-
siderable number of these temporary Acts. By 48 Geo.
ILL c. 106 a continuing Act is to take efiect from the
date of the expiration of a temporary Act, where a bill
for continuing the temporary Act is in parliament, even
though it be not actually passed before the date of the
expiration.
Penal Acts are those which impose a new disability,
beneficial those which confer a new favour. An imperative
statute (often negative or proliibitory in its terms) makes
a certain act or omission absslutcly necessary, and sub-
jects a contravention of its provisions to a penalty. A
directory statute (generally affirmative in its terms)
recommends a certain act or. omission, but imposes no
' A short title lias been occasionally piven by retrospection to An
Act which did not originally possess it. For instance, the Conveyanc-
ing Act, 188), enacts that the Act of 5 and 6 Will. IV. c. 62, the
original title of which is of unwieldy length, may bo cited for the
future a.s the Statutory Declarations Act, 18.35. In nomo cases the
title has been changed. Thus the name of the Summary Procedure
(Scotland) Act, 1864, was changed in 1881 to that of the Summary
Jurisdiction Act, 1864.
' This opinioji carries out to a certain extent tho view of Locke,
who in Article 79 of his Carolina Code recommended the determination
of Acts of tho legislaturu by effluxion of time afters hundred years
liom their enactment.
penalty on non-observance of its provisions. To deter-
mine whether an Act is imperative or directory the Act
itself must be looked at, and many nice questions have
arisen on the application of the rule of law to a particular
case.
Enabling statutes are tliose which enlarge the common
law, while disabling statutes restrict it. This division is
to some extent coincident with that into beneficial and
penal. Declaratory statutes, or those simply in affirnianco
of the common law, were at one period not uncommon,
but they are now practically unknown. The Statute of
Treasons of Edward III. is an example of such a statute.
Statutes are sometimes passed in order to overrule specific
decisions of the courts. Examples are the Factors Act,
1877, the Territorial Waters Jurisdiction Act, 1878, the
Sale of Food and Drugs Act, 1879.
The construction or interpretation of statutes depends
partly on the common law, partly on statute. The main
rules of the common law, as gathered from the best authori-
ties, are these. (1) Statutes ar« to be construed, not accord-
ing to their mere letter, but according to the intent and
object with which they were made. (2) The relation of
the statute to the common law is to be considered. In
the words of the resolution of the Court of Exchequer in
Heydon's Case, 3 Coke's Rep., 7, the points for considera-
tion are — "1, What was the common law btfore the
making of the Act ? 2, What was the mischief and defect
against which the common law did not provide? 3, What
remedy the parliament bath resolved and appointed to
cure the disease of the Commonwealth? 4, The true
reason of the remedy." (3) Beneficial or remedial statutes
are to be liberally, penal more strictly, construed. (4)
Other statutes in pari materia are to be taken into con-
sideration. (5) A statute which treats of persons of
inferior rank cannot by general words Be extended to
those of superior rank. (6) A statute does not bind the
crown, unless it be named therein. (7) Where the pro-
vision of a statute is general, everything necessary to
make such provision effectual is implied. (8) A later
statute repeals an earlier, as far as the two are repugnant,
but, if they may stand together, repeal will not be pre-
sumed. (9) There is a presumption against creation of
new or ousting of existing jurisdictions, against impairing
obligations, against retrospective efiect, against violation
of international law, against monopolies, and. in general
against what is inconvenient or unreasonable. (10) If a
statute inflicts a penalty, the penalty implies a prohibition
of the act pr omission for which tho penalty is imposed.
Whether the remedy given by statute is the only one
depends on the words of the particular Act. In some
cases an action or an indictment will lie ; in others the
statutory remedy, generally summary, takes tho place of
the common law remedy. In some few instances, the
courts have construed the imposition of a penalty as
operating not to invalidate a contract but to create a tax
upon non-compliance with the terms of the statute.
What may bo called tho statutory rules of construction
provide, inter alia, that any Act referring to England
includes Wales and Berwick-upon-Tweed (20 Geo. II. c.
42), and that all words importing tho masculine gender
shall bo taken to include females, and tho singular to
include tho plural and the plural the singular (13 & 14
Vict. c. 21, § 4). The san* Act further provides that,
where any Act repealing in whole or in part any former
Act is itself repealed, such last repeal shall not revive the
Act or provisions before repealed unless words be added
to that effect (S 5), and that, wherever any Act shall bo
made repealing in whole or in part any former Act and
substituting some provision or provisions instead of tho
provision or provisions repealed, such provision or pro-
470
STATUTE
visions 80 repealed shall remain in force until the sub-
Ptiluted provision or provisions shall come into operation
by force of the last Act (§ 6). Numerous interpretations
of particular words are contained in Acts of Parliament,
either general, as "month," "county," " land," and other
words in 13 and 14 Vict. c. 21, § 4, or for the purposes of
the Act, as " settlement " for the purposes of the Settled
Land Act, 1882.
The earlier Acts are generally simple in character and
language, and comparatively few in number. At present
the number passed every session is enormous ; in the
session of 1885 it was 80 general and 190 local and
personal Acts. Without going as far as to concede with
an eminent lega,l authority that of such legislation three-
fourths is unnecessary and the other fourth mischievous,
it may be admitted that the immense library of the
statutes would be but a trackless desert without trust-
worthy guides. Revision of the statutes was evidently
regarded by the legislature as desirable as early as 1563
(sea the preamble to 5 Eiiz. c. 4). It was demanded by a
petition of the Commons in 1610. Both Coke and Bacon
were emploj-ed for some time on a commission for revision.
At times Consolidation Acts in the nature of digests of
law (generally amending as well as consolidating) were
passed, such as the Merchant Shipping Act, 1854, and the
Criminal Law Consolidation Acts of 1861. The most
important . action, however, was the nomination of a
revision committee by Lord Chancellor Cairns in 1868,
the practical result of which has been the issue of an
edition of the Revised Statutes in eighteen volumes, bringing
the revision of statute law down to 1878. This edition is
of course subject to the disadvantage that it becomes less
accurate every year as new legislation appears. An index
to the statutes which are still law is published about every
throe years by the Council of Law Reporting.
The principal statutes may be classified under various
heads according to the matter with which they deal. It
should be remembered at the same time that many of
them — Magna Carta, for example — might fall with equal
correctness under more than one head. A division, con-
venient, if not exhaustive, would be into historical, con-
stitutional, legal, and social.
Historical. — Under this head would come those Acts
which to a greater or less extent mark important epochs
in the national history, such as the Statute of Rhuddlan,
the Acts of Union defining the relations of Wales, 'Scotland,
and Ireland to England, the Act of Settlement, the Stamp
Act of 1765 — the proximate cause of the revolt of the
American colonies, — the Acts abolishing the slave trade
and the corn laws, and those defining the position of
dependencies, such as the Act for the Better Government
of India, 1858, and the British North America Act, 1867.
Constitutional. — The principal Acts of this class would
be Magna Carta, the statutes De Tallagio non Coneedendo
and De PrxTor/ativa Regis and those dealing with mort-
main and treason, the Petition of Right, the Bill of
Rights, the Septennial Act, the Royal Marriage Act, the
Mutiny, Jlilitia, Naval Discipline, and Foreign Enlist-
ment Acts, and the Acts affecting the parliamentary
franchise from the time of Henry VI. to the Redistri-
bution of Scats Act, 1885. Under this head too might
be placed the numerous Acts dealing with the question of
religion. Some of the more interesting of these are the
Articnli Clei-i, the Statutes of Provisors, the Acts of Henry
Vni. abolishing monasteries, the Acts of Supremacy and
Uniformity of Henry VIII., Elizabeth, and Charles IL,
the Toleration, Catholic Emancipation, Tithe Commuta-
tion,'Church Discipline, Public Worship Regulation, Irish
Church, and Scottish Patronage Abolition Acts.
Legal. — The/ most important of this class are perhaps
the Statutes of Quia Emptores -and De Bonis, the Statutes
of Uses and of Wills, the Statutes of Limitation, the
Statute of Frauds and its amendments, the Fines and
Recoveries Act, the Conveyancing, Settled Land and
Settled Estates, and JIarried Women's Property Acts, and
the Acts for the amendment of procedure, e.g., the
Chancery Amendment, Common Law Procedure, Judica-
ture, and Appellate Jurisdiction Acts.
Social. — Social legislation (other than mere sumptuary
laws) is of comparatively modern introduction. Among
earlier instances are the Statute of Labourers of Edward
III. and the Poor Law of Elizabeth. More modern
examples are the Factory, Public Health, and Artisans'
Dwellings Act, and, perhaps greatest of ill, the Education
Acts. Besides these there are the Acts dealing with
patent, copyright, summary jurisdiction, friendly and
building societies, trades unions, savings banks, theatres,
commons preservation, and agricultural holdings. Acts
which have trade for their special object are the Bank
Charter, Merchant Shipping, Bills of Lading, Bills of
Exchange, Crossed Cheques, Factors, Stamp, Licensing,
.Bankruptcy, and Trade Marks Acts.
The chief editions of the statutes are the Statutes of
the Ficcdm printed by the queen's printers, RufEhead's, and
the fine edition issued from 1810 to 1824 in pursuance of
an address from the House of Commons to George III.
The safest authority is of course the Revised Statutes.
Chitty's collection of statutes of practical utility is a use-
ful compilation. Among the earlier works on statute law
may be mentioned the readings on statutes by great
lawyers, such -as the second volume of Coke's Institutes,
Bacon's Reading on the Statute of Uses, Barrington's
Obsei-vations on the more Ancient Statutes from Magna
Carta to the 31 Jac. I. c. 27 (5th ed. 1796), and the
Introduction to Blackstone's Commentaries. ; Among the
later works are the treatises of Dwarris (2d ed. 1848) and
Sir P. B. Maxwell (2d ed. 1883) on the interpretation
of statutes, and Sir H. Thring's Practical Legislation, or
the Composition and Language of Acts of Parliament.
Scot^aiid. — The statutes of the Scottish parliament before the
Uaion differed from the English statutes in two important respecta,
— they were passed by the estates of the kingdom sitting together
and not in separate Houses, and from 1367 to 1690 they were dis-
cussed only after preliminary consideration by the Lords ol
Articles. An Act of the Scottish parliament may iu certain cases
cease to be binding by desuetude. "To bring an Act of Parlia-
ment like those we are dealing with" (i.e., the Sabbath Profana-
tion Acts) "into what is called in Scotch law the condition of
desuetude, it must be shown that the offence prohibited is not
only practised without being checked, but is no longer considered
or dealt with in tliis country as an oQ'ence against law" (Lord
Justice General Inglis iu Bute's Case, 1 Couper's licp., 495). Acts
of the imperial parliament passed since the Union exteud in general
to Scotland, unless that country be excluded from.their operation
by express terms or necessary implication.
Ireland. — Originally the lord deputy appears to have held
parliaments at his option, and their Acts were the only statutory
law which apfjlied to Ireland, except as far as judicial decisions
had from motives of policy extended to that country the obliga-
tion of English statutes. In 1495 the Act of the Irish parliament
known as Poynfeg's Law or the Statute of Drogheda enacted that
all statutes lately made in England be deemed good and effectual
in Ireland. This was construed to mean that all statutes made in
England prior to the 18 Hen. TIL were valid in Ireland, but none
of later date were to have any operation unless Ireland were
specially named therein or unless adopted by the Irish parliament
(as was done, for instance, by Yelverton's Act, 21 and 22 Geo.
III. c. 48, i.). Another article of Poyning's Law secured an
initiative of legislatinu to the English privy council, the Irish
parliament having simply a, power of acceptance or rejection of
proposed legislation. The power of the parliament of Gfeat
Britain to make laws to bind the people of Ireland was declared
by 6 Geo. I. c. 5. This Act and the article of Poyning's Law
were repealed in 1782, and the short-lived independence of the
parliament of -Ireland ivas recognized by 23 Geo. III. c. 28. The
application of Acts passed since the Union is the same as in the
case of Scotland.
S T A-S T A
471
Colcmies and Dependencies. ~: Acta of the imperial parliament do
not extend to tlio Isle of Man, the Channel Islands, or the colonies,
unless they are specially named therein. By 28 and 29 Vict. c.
63 any colonial law repnmant to the provisions of any Act of
Parliament extending to the colony ia void to the extent of such
repugoancy, and no colonial law is to he void by repugnancy to
the law of £ngland unless it be repugnant to such au Act of
Parliament. For colonics without representative legislatures the
crown usually legislates, subject to the consent of parliament in
particular cases. For instance, it was the opinion of the judicial
committee of the privy council in 1876 that a cession of British
territory in India to a liative state would probably need the con-
currence of the imperial parliament (Damodhar Gordhau v. Deoram
Kanji, Law Sep., 1 Appeal Cases, 332).
Unile4 StctCes.—By the constitutions of many States English
statute law, as it existed at the time of the separation from
England, and aa far as it is applicable, has been adapted as part
of the law of the SUtes. The United States and the State are not
bound bv au Act of Congress or a State law unless specially named.
The States legislate for themselves -within the limits of their own
constitution and that of the United States. Here appears the
striking difference between the binding force of a statute of the
United Kingdom and an Act passed by congress or a State legis-
lature. In the United Kingdom parliament is supreme; in the
United States an Act is only of authority if it is in accordance
with the constitution. The courts may declare an Act void if "it
contravene the constitution of the United States or of a State, so
that practically the Supreme Court of the United States is the
oltimate legislative authority. Examples of recent cases where
the constitutionality of an Act has been contested will be found
under Patuent and PRrviLEGE. The restrictions upon legisla-
tion contained in the constitution of the United States provide
against the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus, except in case
of rebellion or invasion, the passing of a bill of attainder or ex post
facto law, the imposition of capitation or other direct tax, unless in
accordance with a previous article of the constitution, or oi a tax
or duty on exports, the preference "of the ports of one State over
those of another, the drawing of money from the treasury except
by appropriations made by law, and the grant of a title of nobility.
The amended constitution contains further limitations, e.g., the
taking of private property for public use without just compensa-
tion, and the abridging of the right of citizens on acco,unt of race,
colour, or previous condition of servitude. State legislation is
limited by § 10:— "No State shall make anything but
gold and silver coin a tender in payment of debts, pass any bill of
attainder, ex post facto law, or law impairing the obligation of con--
tracts, or grant any title of nobility." . The section further forbids
imposition of duties on imports or exports or any duty of, tonnage
without consent of congress. St.'Jte constitutions often contain
iurlher restrictions ; among the more usual are provisions against
laws with a retrospective operation,' or impairing the obligation of
contracts, or dealing with more than one subject to be expressed
in the title. The time when a statute is to take effect after its
passing is often fixed by State constitutions. The statutes of the
United States were revised under the powers of an Act of Congress
passed in 1874' (sess. i. c. 333), and the volume of Bevised Statutes
(frequently amended since) was issued on February 22, 1875.
llany of the States have also issued revised editions of their
statutes. The rules of construction are in general agreement with
those adopted in England. See Sedgwick, Statutory Law.
International Law. — The terra statute is used by international
jurists and civilians to denote the whole body of the municipal law
of the state. In this sense statutes are either real, personal, or
mixed. A real statute is that part of the law which deals directly
with property, whether movable or immovable. A personal statute
has for its object a person, and deals with questions of statiw, such
as marriage, legitimacy, or infancy. A mixed statute affects both
property and person, or, according to some authorities, it deals
with acts and obligations. Personal statutes are of universal valid-
ity; real statutes have. no extra-territorial authority. The deter-
mination of the class under which a particular law ought to fall is
one of great difficulty, and one in which there is often a conflict of
legal opinion. On the whole the division appears to have created
more difBcultios than it has solved, and it is rejected by Savigny
as unsatisfactory. See Story, Conflict of Law>, §§12-16; Philli-
moro. International Law, vol. iv. ch. xvi.. (J. Wt.)
STATUTE MERCHANT and STATUTE STAPLE
were two old forma of security, long obsolete in practice,
though references to them still occur in some modern
statutes. Tliey were originally permitted only among
traders, for the benefit of commerce, tut fffterwards
extended by 23 Hen. 'YIII. c. 6 to all subjaots, whetnar
traders or not. The creditor under either form of security
was allowed to seize the goods and hold the lands of a
defaulting debtor until satisfaction of his debt. ^VhiIe
ho held the lands ho was termed tenant by statute mer-
chant or by statute staple. In addition to the loss of hi'
goods and lands the debtor was liable to be imprisoned.
STAUNTON, a city of the United States, the county-
seat of Augusta county, Virginia, lies at the foot of the
Blue Ridge Mountains, on the Lewis Creek (a tributary of
the Shenandoah), 136 miles west-north-west of Richmond.
It is the seat of the State lunatic asylum and of the State
institution for the deaf and dumb and' blind, and hat
besides an unusual niimber of important educational
establishmeiats. Iron-works, planing-mills, and flour-miUs
represent the manufacturing interest. The population was
5120 in 1870 and 6664 in 1880.
STAUNTON, HowAED (1810-1874), Shakespeareaa
scholar and writer on chess, was born about 1810. He
was educated at Eton and Oxford, but left the university
without taking a degree and settled in London, devoting
much of his attention to the study of the English drama-
tists of -the Elizabethan age. In conjunction with this he
also took a great interest in the stage, and as an amateur
once played Lorenzo to the Shylock of Edmund Rean.
Between 1857 and 1860 he edited in monthly parts an
edition of Shakespeare published by Rontledge, which
has been several times reissued, and must be ranked as
superior, as regards both text and notes, to any previously
published. His ?kill as a Shakespearean commentator,
combining in a remarkable degree the acutencss and
caution which qualified him to excel in choss, and dis-
ciplined to rare perfection by a thorough mastery of .the
literature of the period, is still more strikingly shoWn in
his papers in the Atlienxum on " Unsuspected Corruptions
of Shakespeare's Text," commenced in October 1872.
These formed part of the materials intended to be made
use of in an improved edition of Shakespeare's works
which he proposed to prepare, but which for a variety of
reasons was never published. In 1864 he published a
facsimile of the Shakespeare folio of 1623, and a finely
illustrated work entitled Memorials ef Skalcspeare. He
was also the author of the Great Schools of England, — an
Account of the Foundation, Endovmients, and Discipline o]
the Chief Seminaries of Learning in England, 1865. An
account of his career as a chess-player, and a notice of his
chief publications on the game, will be found under the
heading Chess (vol. v. pp. 601, 603). He died in London
22d June 1874.
STAY ANGER, a seaport town of Norway, the adminis-
trative centre of an "amt" of the same name (population
114,164 in 1876), is situated on tho west coast, on the
south side of a beautiful fjord, about 127 miles north-west
of Christiansand. A railway to connect Stavanger with
Christiania has been planned, but as yet only the terminal
portions have been constructed, the Stavanger pwtion,
which runs south to Ekersund tor 47 miles, being opened
in 1878. The town is for the most part a collection of
narrow and irregular streets, but signs of tho wealth
acquired by its shipping trade and- herring fishery appear
in tho well-built stone houses erected since tho great fire
of 1860. In 1884 314 vessels (70,006 tons) entered the
harbour and 267 -(57,479 tons) cleared. Though the
bishop's see was removed from Stavanger to Christiansand
in 1685, the old cathedral of St Swithuu's, founded by the
English bishop Reinald in the end of the llthcentury, and
rebuilt after being burned down in 1272, still remains, and,
next to the cathedral of Trondhjem, is the most interesting
piece of Gothic architecture in Norway. The old episcopal
palace of Kongsgaard is now a Latin sciool. The com-
munal hospital is an important institution. Tho town
dates from the 8th or'Oth century and became the seal
of a bishopric in the 13th. In 1801 tho population d
472
S T A — S T A
Stavanger was only 2500; by 1855 it was 1? 000, and
by 1«75 20,350.
STAVKOPOL, a government of Northern Caucasia,
Russia, having an area of 26,530 square miles, and a
j)Oimlation (rapidly increasing by Kussian immigration)
last returned at 637,893. It is bounded by Astrakhan
uud the province of the Don Cossacks on the N., Kubaii on
the W., Terek on the S., and the Caspian Sea on the E.,
occupying the eastern part of the broad plains and steppes
which fiinge the main chain of Caucasus (q.v.) on the
north. In the western part of the government a broad
undulating swelling, ranging from 1500 to 2000 feet
above sea-level, extends northwards from the central
mountain chain ; in the southern part of this swelling, in
the vicinity of Pyatigorsk, there is a group of . sixteen
mountains, 2800 to 4600 feet in height — the Beshtau, —
which, as shown by Abich, ought to be considered as a
porphjTitic upheaval which took place at a point where
the two predominant directions in Caucasus (south-west to
north-east and south-east to north-west) meet. Northward
and eastward of the above plateau are extensive steppes,
from 400 to 200 feet above the sea, having gentle slopes
both to the north (to the depression of the Manytch) and
to the east (towards the low and dry steppes of the Caspian
littoral). The geological structure of Stavropol is most
interesting. The mountains in the sputhern parts of
Pyatigorsk consist of trachytic porphyries and volcanic
rocks. Numberless hot mineral springs (see Pvatigobsk)
occur in this group, and earthquakes are most common in
the region. A broad belt of Miocene deposits, represented
by the "steppe limestone" with Mactra podolica, girdles
the hiUy tracts, attaining a breadth of 40 miles or rather
more ; while the remainder of the steppes, which gently
slope towards the Manytch and the Caspian, are occupied
by the Post-Tertiary Caspian formation (loess).
Stavropol is chiefly watered by the Kuma and its
tiibutaries (Podkumok, Karamyk, Buivola, ic), its basin
being the most fertile part of the province, but the
evaporation is so great that the Kuma never reaches the
Caspian except in spring. The JIanytch is less a river
than a series of lakes occupying a depression which formerly
was a connecting channel between the Black Sea and the
Caspian. This channel has two slopes, the eastern some-
times discharging its scanty water-supply into the Kuma,
while on the western slope the elongated lakes which fill
up the depression drain into the Don, reaching it, however,
only during spring. Two Yegorlyks (Great and Middle),
the Kalaus, and the Tchogra (temporary tributaries of the
Manytch) water the west part of Stavropol ; while the
Yeya and the Barsukly — a tributary of the Kubaii — rise
in the district of Pyatigorsk. On the whole, irrigation is
scanty, and in the eastern steppes water is supplied only
by cisterns. Besides the few lakes of the Manytch depres-
sion, there are many smaller salt lakes around the Caspian.
Timber is scarce, even in the hilly tracts.
The climate is severe. Although Stavropol and Pyati-
gorsk both have an -average yearly temperature of 48°
Fahr., frosts of -22° Fahr. are not uncommon, and the
average winter temperature is only 2S'''7 at Stavropol
(January, 25° ; July, 71°). Yellow and other endemic
fevers, sometimes very severe, are common on the low
banks of the Kuma and Manytch.
The region is traversed by both the great highways
along the western shore of the Caspian (the Vladikavkaz
and the Derbent routes), and accordingly several nations
in their migrations have left stragglers on the steppes of
Stavropol. Thus we now find in these steppes Lamaite
ILttlmucks (about 10,000), Mohammedan Turcomans and
Nogais (together about 60,000), as well as less con-
siderable remains of several other tribes. On the other
hand, immigrants irom Great and Little Russia, Poles,
Germans, Esthoniaus, Greeks, and even a few Scota (in
a colony close to Pyatigorsk) have settled in the most
fertile and best watered parts of Stavropol in the course
of the present century. The Russian population is grow-
ing very rapidly, and already numbers upwards of
500,000.
There are three administrative districts, the chief towns
of which are Stavropol (35,470 inhabitants in 1884), Pyati-
gorsk (11,115), and Alexandrovskaya (8710), and a terri-
tory of nomad natives which occupies more than two-fiftha
of the entire area of the government.
The educational returns foi: 1883 show 7 gymnasiums
and " real schools," with 1081 boys and 491 girls, and 139
elementary schools, with only 5310 boys and 1034 girls.
Agriculture is the chief occupation of the settled population, and
so large is the harvest that uo less than 16,000 labourers, att::£ctcJ
by high wages, come annually from European Kussia to assist in
gathering in the crops. Large amounts of i;orn are exported both
to the mountainous districts of Caucasus And to Russia (Rostoff-
on-the-Don). Cattle-breeding is engaged in very largely, not only
by the Kalmucks, Turcomans, and Nogais, butalso by the Russians.
In 18Si Stavropol had 154,000 horses, 808,500 cattle, 2,540,000
sheep, 45,000 goats, 75,000 pigs, and 7500 camels. Cattle and
horses, as also wool, hair, hides, and sheepskins, are exported in
considerable quantities. A remarkable feature of Stavropol is the
rapid growth among the Russian peasant population of a great
variety of domestic trades both for local supply and for exportation.
Silk wares are now woven in the villages to such an extent as to
become an important article of export to Russia. Many other petty
trades have also grown up of late, such as various kinds of cotton-
weaving, the manufacture of leather wares, small metallic wares,
and so on. ilanufactures proper (chiefly distillation) employed
some 1000 persons in 1870, and their produce was estimated ?it
about £140,000 per annum. Since that time they have slowly
expanded. A brisk trade is carried on in the above-mentioned
articles of export, and twenty-nine village fairs show an aggregate
annual return of nearly £300,000.
'History. — The northern slopes of Caucasus began to be colonized
by Russians at a very early period, and as early as the Ilth cent-
ury part of the territory now occupied by Stavropol was known
to Russian annalists^ as the Tinutarakaa principality, which had
Russian princes. A new attempt to colonize North Caucasus was
made in the 16th century, under Ivan the Terrible, who manied
a Kabardian princess. This was again unsuccessful, and It was
not till 1711 that Rus'sia began regularly to colonize the territorj'
by Cossack settlements. The military colonization was continued
during the whole of last century; Kizlar was founded in 1736,
Stavropol in 1776 or 1777. Immense tracts were given by
Catherine II. to her courtiers, who began to people them with
serfs brought from Russia. The flow of fanmigrants rapidly
increased as soon as peace was firmly established, and it is still
on the increase, especially since the emancipation of the serfs, so
that Stavropol is rapidly becoming a Russian province, with a
comparatively limited number of natives in the steppes of its
eastern part.
STAVROPOL, capital of the above province, is situated
on a plateau 2000 feet above the sea, on the northern
slope of the Caucasus, 360 miles to the north-west of Tiflis
and 914 mil.es from Moscow. It is connected by rail with
Rostoff-on-the-Don. Although founded only in 1776 for
military purposes, it has rapidly grown, and has now a
population of 35,500, while it is one of the best built
provincial towns of the Russian, empire. It has wide
streets, and its houses are mostly of stone ; large gardens
surround the houses; and numerous farms and gardens
occupy the territory (nearly 50,000 acres) belonging to
the town. It is well provided with educational institu-
tions, there being four gymnasia for boys and girls and
several primary schools. Nearly all the manufactures of
the province are concentrated in Stavropol. The trade is
considerable, large numbers of cattle (more than 35,000
head annually) being sent to Moscow and St Petersburg,
while tallow and more than 15,000 sheepskins are exported
via Rostoff to Russia. Corn is also exported to the value of
nearly X300,000, while manufactured wares are imported
to the value of nearly £150,000. Armenian, Georgian, and
Persian merchanlE carry on a, lively trade in local wares.
473
STEAM-ENGINES AND OTHEB HEAT-ENGINES
Ul-
lOf
t-
ilMS.
1. A Heat-Enoine is a machiac in which heat is employed
'jLJL to do mechanical work. In all practical heat-engines,
work is done through the expansion by heat of a fluid which
overcomes resistance as it expands— in steam-engines by
the expansion of water and water-vapour, in air-engines by
the expansion of hot air, in gas-engines by the expansion of
a burnt mixture of air and gas. One of the most simple
and historically one of the oldest types of heat-engines are
guns, in which heat, generated by the combustion of an ex-
plosive, does work in giving energy of motion to a projec-
tile. But guns differ so widely from all other types, both
in their purpose and in their development, that it is con-
venient to leave them out of account in treating of engines
which may serve as prime movers to other mechanism
I. Eaelt History of the SxEAM-ENonra;.
2. The earliest notices of heat-engines are found in the
^Pneumatica of Hero of Alexandria (c. 130 B.C.). Two
contrivances described there deserve mention. One is the
seolipile, a steam reaction-turbine consisting of a spherical
vessel pivoted on a central axis and supplied with steam
through one of the pivots. The steam escapes by bent
pipes facing tangentially in opposite directions, at opposite
' ends of a diameter perpendicular to the axis. The globe
revolves by reaction from the escaping steam, just as a
Barker's mill is driven by escaping water. Another
-apparatus dfescribed by Hero (6g. l)i is interesting as the
prototype of a class of
engines which long after-
wards became practically
important. • A hollow
altar containing air is
heated by a fire kindled
on it ; the air in expand-
ing drives some of the
water contained in a
spherical vessel beneath
the altar into a bucket,
"which descends and
opens the temple doors
above by pulling round
a pair of vertical posts
to which the doors are ^ , „ , . .,,«,„
,. . TTTi iU c ■ Fio. 1.— Hero 8 Apparatus, 130 B.C.
fixed. When the fire is
extinguished the air cools, the water leaves the bucket, and
the d^oors close. In another device a jot of water driven
out by expanding air is turned to account as a fountain. _
3. From the time of Hero to the 17th century there is
no progress to record, though here and there wo find
evidence that appliances like those described by Hero were
used for trivial purposes, such as organ-blowing and the
turning of spits. The next distinct step was the publica-
tion in IGOl of a treatise on pneumatics by Giovanni Bat-
tista della Porta, in which he shows an apparatus similar
to Hero's fountain, but with steam instead of air as the
displacing fluid. Steam generated in a separate vessel
passes into a closed chamber containing water, from which
a pipe (open under the water) leads out. He also points
out that the condensation of steam in the closed chamber
may be used to produce a vacuum and suck up water from
a lower level. In fact, his suggestions anticipate very fully
the engine which a century later became in the hands of
Savory the earliest commercially successful steam-engine.
In 1615 Solomon de Cans gives a plan of forcing up water
by a steam fountain which differs f/om Della Porta's only
in having one vessel serve both as boiler and as displace-
ment-chamber, the hot water being itself raised.
i. Another line of invention was taken by Giovanni
Branca (1629), who designed an engine shaped like a
water-wheel, to be driven by the impact of a jet of steam
on its vanes, and, in its turn, to drive other mechanism
for various useful purposes. But Branca's suggestion was
unproductive, and we find the course of invention revert
to the line followed by Della Porta and De Caus.
5. The next contributor is one whose place is not easily
assigned. To Edward Somerset, second marquis of Wor-
cester, appears to be due the credit of making the first
useful steam-engine. Its object was to raise water, and it
worked probably like Della Porta's model, but with a pair
of displacement-chambers, from each of which alternately
water was forced by steam from an independent boiler, or
perhaps by applying heat to the chamber itself, while the
other vessel was allowed to refill. Lord AVorcester's de-
scription of the engine in his Century of Inventions (1663)
is obscure, and no drawings are extant. It is therefore'
difficult to say whether there were any distinctly novel
features except the double action ; in particular it is not
clear whether the suction of a vacuum was used to raise
water as well as the direct pressure of steam. An engin^
of about two horse-power was in use at Vauxhall in 1656;
and the walls of Raglan Castle contain traces of another,}
but neither Worcester's efforts nor those of his widow were
successful in securing the commercial success of his engine.'
6. This success was reserved for Thomas Savery, who Savorj
in 1698 obtained a patent for a water-raising engine, 1*98.
shown in fig. 2. Steam is admitted to one of the oval,
vessels A, displacing water, which it drives
up through the check-valve B. When the
vessel A is emptied
of water, the supply
of steam is stopped,
and the steam al-
ready there is con-
densed by allowing
a jet of cold water
from a cistern above
to stream over the
outer surface of the
vessel. This pro-
duces a vacuum and
causes water to be
sucked up through
the pipe C and the
valve D. Moan-
while, steam has
been displacing
Winter from the other
vessel, and is ready
to be condensed
there. The valves B and D open only upwards.
' From Greenwood's tranalatiou of Hero's Pmumalica.
2:2— IS*
The
supplementary boiler and furnace E arc for feeding watoi
to the main boiler ; E is filled while cold and a hro u
lighted under it; it then acts like the vessel of De <-»««
in forcing a supply of feed-water into the main boder J-.
The gauge-cocks G, O are an interesting feature of detail.
Another form of Savory's engine had only one displaccmentr
chamber and worked intermittently. In the use of arti-
ficial meana to condewe the steam, and in the appUcatiop
474
STEAM-ENGINE
[ea-elv
©yljider
piston
aneme.
of the vacuum so lormed to raise water by suction from a
level lower thau that of the engine, Savery's engine was
probably an improvement on Worcester's ; in any case it
found what "Worcester's engine had failed to find, — consider-
able employment in pumping mines and in raising water
to supply houses and towns, and even to drive water-
wheels. A serious difficulty vhich prevented its general
use in mines was the fact that the height through which
it would lift water was limited by the pressure the boiler
and vessels could bear. Pressures as high as 8 or 10
atmospheres were employed — and that, too, without a
safety-valve — but Savery found it no easy matter to deal
with high-pressure steam : he complains that it melted liis
common solder, and forced him, as Desaguliers tells us,
"to be at the pains and charge to have all his joints
soldered with spelter." Apart from this drawback the
waste of fuel was enormous, from the condensation of
steam which took place on the surface of the water and on
the sides of the displacement-chamber at each stroke ; the
consumption of coal, was, in proportion to the work done,
some twenty times greater than in a good modern steam-
engine. In a tract called The Miner's Friend, Savery
alludes thus to the alternate heating and cooling of the
water-vessel: "On the outside of the vessel you may see
how the water goes out as well as if the vessel were trans-
parent, for so far as the steam continues within the vessel
80 far is the vessel dry without, and so very hot as scarce
to endure the least toueh of the hand. But as far as the
water is, the said vessel \vill be cold and wet where any
water has fallen on it ; which cold and moisture vanishes
as fast as the steam in its descent taker, place of the water."
Before Savery's engine was entirely displaced by its suc-
cessor, Newcomcn's, it was improved by Desaguliers, who
applied to it the safety valve (invented by Papin), aad
substituted condensation by a jet of .cold water within the
vessel for the surface condensation used by Savery.
7. So early as 1678 the use of a piston and cylinder (long
before known as applied to pumps) in a heat-engine had been
suggested by Jean Heautefeuille, who proposed to use the
explosion of gunpowder either to raise a piston or to force
np^water, or to produce, by the subsequent cooling of the
gases, a partial vacuum into which water might be sucked
up. Two years later Huygons described an engine in which
the explosion of gunpowder in a cylinder expelled part of the
gaseous contents, after which the cooling of the remainder
caused a piston to descend under atmospheric pressure, and
the piston in descending did work by raising a weight.
8. In 1690 Denis Papin, who ten years before had
invented the safety-valve as an adjunct to his " digester,"
suggested that the condensation of steam should be em-
ployed to make a vacuum under a piston previously raised
by the expansion of the steam. Papin's was the earliest
cylinder and piston steam-engine, and his plan of using
steam wan that which afterwards
took practical shape in the atmo-
spheric engine of Newcomen. But
Fio. 3.— Papui, 1705
hia scheme was made unworkable by the fact that he pro-
posed to use but ono vessel as both boiler and cylinder.
A small quantity of water was placed at the bottom of a
cylinder and heat was applied. When the piston had risen
the fire was removed, the steam was allowed to cool, and
the piston did work in its down-stroke under the pressure of
the atmosphere. After hearing of Savery's engine in 1705
Papin turned his attention to improving it, and devised a
modified form, shown in fig. 3, in which the displacement-
chamber A was a cylinder, with a floating diaphragm oi
jiiston on the top of the water to keep the water and steam
from direct contact with one another. The water was de-
livered into a closed air-vessel B, from which it issued in
a continuous stream against the vanes of a water-wheel.
After the steam had done its work in the displacement-
chamber it was allowed to escape by the stop-cock C instead
of being condensed. Papin's engine was in fact a non-con-
densing single-acting steam pump, with steam-cylinder and
pump-cylinder in one. A cu.-ious feature of it was the heater
D, a hot mass of metal placed in the diaphragm for the pur-
pose of keeping the steam dry. Among the many inventions
of Papin was a boiler \\-ith an internal fire-box,- — the earliest
example of a construction that is now almost universal.^
9. AVhile Papin was thus going back from his first New-
notion of a piston-engine to Savery's cruder type, a nev/ somen's
inventor had appeared who made the piston-engine a ^^^°;
practical succe.ss by separating the boiler from the cylinder enoine,
and by using (as Savery had done) artificial means to con- 1705
dense the steam. This was Newcomen, who in 1705, with
his assistant Cawley, gave the steam-engine the form
shown in fig. 4. Steam admitted from the boiler to the .
cylinder allowed the piston to be
raised by a heavy counterpoise
on the other side of the beam.
Then the steam-
valve was shut and
a jet of cold water
entered the cylinder
and condensed the
steam. The piston
was consequently
forced down by the
pressure of the at-
mosphere and did
work on the pump.
The next entry of
steam expelled the
condensed water
from the cylinder
through an escape
valve. The piston was kept tight by a layer of water cu>
its upper surface. Condensation was at first effected by
cooling the outcide of the cylinder, but the accidental leak-
age of the packing water past the piston showed the advan-
tage of condensing by a jet of injection water, and this plan
took the place of surface condensation. The engine used
steam whose pressure was little if at all greater than that
of the atmosphere ; sometimes indeed it was worked witlr
the manhole lid off the boiler.
10. About 1711 Xcwcomen's engine negan to be inti'O
duced for pumping mines; and in 1713 a lioy nained
Humphrey Potter, whoso duty it was to open and shut the
valves of an engine he attended, made the engine lielf-
acting by causing the beam iticlf to open and close the
valves by suitable cords and catches. Potters rude device
was simplified in 1718 by Henry Beighton, who suspended
from the beam a rod called the plug-tree, which worked
the valves by means of tappets. By 1725 the engine was
in common use in collieries, and it held its place witheut
material change for about three-quarters of a century in
' For an account of Papin's inventions, see his Li/c and Letters, by
Dr E. Gerland, Berlin, 1881.
Fig. 4. — Newcomen's Atmospheric En^kie, 1705.
«AELY HISTORY.]
STEAM-ENGINE
475
all. Near the close of its career the aiinospnenc engine
[was much improved in its mechanical details by Smeaton,
.■who built many large engines of this typo about the year
1770, just after the great step which was to make New-
comen's engine obsolete had been taken by James Watt.
Compared with Savery's engine, Newcomen's had (as a
pumping-engine) the great advantage that the intensity of
pressure in the pumps was not in any way limited by the
pressure of the steam. It shared with Savery's, in a
scarcely less degree, the defect already pointed out, that
steam was wasted by the alternate heating and cooling of
the vessel into which it was led. Though obviously cap-
able of more extended . uses, it was in fact almost exclu-
sively employed to raise water, — in some instances for the
purpose of turning water-wheels to drive other machinery.
Even contemporary writers complain of its "vast con-
sumption of fuel," which appears to have been scarcely
smaller than that of the engine of Savery.
11. In 1763 James Watt, an instrument maker in
GlasgoTsf, while engaged by the university in repairing a
model of Newcomen's engine, was struck with the waste
of steam to which the alternate chilling and heating of
the cylinder gave rise. He saw that the remedy, in his
own words, would lie in keeping the cylinder as hot as
the steam that entered it. With this view he added to
the engine a new organ — an empty vessel separate from
the cylinder, into which the steam should be allowed to
escape from the cylinder, to be condensed there by the
application of cold water either outside or as a jet. To
preserve the vacuum in his condenser he added a pump
called the air-pump, whose function was to pump from it
- the condensed steam and water of condensation, as well as
the air which would otherwise accumulate by leakage or by
being brought in with the steam or with the injection water.
Then as the cylinder was no longer used as a condenser
he was able to keep it hot by clothing it with non-con-
ducting bodies, and in particular by the use of a steam-
jacket, or layer of hot steam between the cylinder and an
external casing. Further, and still with the same object,-
he covered in the top of the cylinder, taking the piston-rod
but through a steam-tight stufEng-box, and allowed steam
instead of air to press upon the piston's upper surface.
The idea of using a separate condenser had no sooner
occurred to Watt than he put it to the test by constructing
the apparatus shown in fig. 5. There A is the cylinder, B
a surface condenser, and C the
air-pump. The cylinder was filled
with steam above the piston, and
a vacuum was formed in the sur-
face condenser B. On opening
the stop-cock D the steam rushed
over from the cylinder and was
condensed, while the piston rose
and lifted a weight. After seve-
ral trials Watt patented his im-
provements in 1769; they are i.,„ r w ,.• t- ^ .,
described in his specification in Appar.itus.
the following words, which, apart from their immense
historical interest, deserve careful study as a atatement of
principles which to this day guide the scientific develop-
ment of the steam-engine : —
" My method of lessoning tlio consiimrition of steam, and conse-
Iqnently fuel, in fire-engines, consists of the foUowinj; principles: —
"First, That vessel in which the powers of steam nro to ba
employed to work the engine, wliich is called tho cylinder in
commou firo-cngines, and which I call tho stcam-vcssol, must,
rduring the whole time tho engine is at work, bo kept as hot as tho
steam that cnlci-s it; first by enclosing it in a case of wood, or any
other materials that transmit heat slowly ; secondly, by sunound-
ing it with steam or other heated bodies; and, thirdly, by sufl'ering
neitiier water nor any other substance colder tliau the steam to
enter or touch it during that tima
"Secondly, In engines that are to be worked wholly or partially
by condensation of steam, the steam is to bo condensed in vessels
distinct from the steam-vessels or cylinders, although occasionally
communicating with, them ; these vessels I call condensers; and,
whilst the engines are working, these condensers ought at least to
be kept as cold as the air in tho neighbouibood of the engines, by
application of water or other cold bodies.
Thirdly, Whatever air or other elastic vapour is not condensed
oy the cold of tho condenser, and may impede the working of
the engine, is to be drawn out of the steam-vessels or condensers
by means of pumps, wrought by the engines themselves, or
otherwise.
"Fourthly, I intend in many cases to employ tho expansive force
of steam to press on the pistons, or whatever may be used instead
of them, in the same manner in which the pressure of tho atmo-
sphere is now employed in common fire-engines. In cases whera
cold water cannot be had in plenty, the engines may be wrought
by this force of steam only, by discharging the steam into the air
after it has done its office. ...
"Sixthly, I intend in some cases to apply a degree of cold not
capable of redjueing the steam to water, but of contracting it con-
siderably, so that the engines shall be. worked by the altemata
expansion and contraction of the steam.
Lastly, Instead of using water to render the pistons and other
parts of the engine air and steam tight, I employ oils, wax, resin-
ous bodies, fat of animals, quicksilver and other metals in their
fluid state."
The fifth claim was for a rotary engine, and need not
be quoted here.
The " common fire-engine " alluded to was *he steam-
engine, or, as it was more generally called, the "atmo-
spheric " engine of Newcomen. Enormously important
as Watt's first patent was, it resulted for a time in the
production of nothing more than a greatly improved
engine of the Newcomen type, much less wasteful of
fuel, able to make faster strokes, but still only suitable
for pumping, still single-acting, with steam admitted
during the whole stroke, the piston, as before, pulling
the beam by a chain working on a circular arc. The
condenser was generally worked by injection, but Watt
has left a model of a surface condenser made up of small
tubes, in every essential respect like the condensers now.
used in marine engines.
12. Fig. 6 is an example of the Watt pumping-engino watct
of this period. It should be noticed that, although the |n™P^
top of the cylinder is
closed and steam has ac-
cess to the upper side of
the piston, this is done
only ♦o keep the cylinder
and piston
warm. The
engine is still
single-acting;
the steam in
the upper side
merely plays
the part which
was played
in Newcom-
en's engine
by the atmo-
sphere; and it
is the lower
end of the
cylinder alone
that is over
put in commu-
nication with
tho condenser.
There are three
valves, — the
"steam" valve a, the "equilibrium" valve h, and the "ex-
haust" valve c. At tho beginning of the down-stroke c is
opened to produce a vacuum below tho piston and a u
Fio. «.— Waif « Slngfc-Actlng Englns, 1789.
476
STEAM-ENGINE
[eAKLY HISTOEV.
opened to admit steam above it. At tte end of the down-
etroke a and c are shut and 6 is opened. This puts the
two sides in equilibrium, and allows the piston to be pulled
np by the pump-rod P. which is heavy enough to serve as
a counterpoise. C is the condenser, and A the air-pump,
■which discharges into the hot well H, whence the supply
of the feed-pump F is drawn.
13. In a second patent (1781) Watt describes the "sun-
and-planet '' wheels and other methods of making the
engine give continuous revolving motion to a shaft pro-
vided with a fly-wheel. He had invented the crank and
connecting-rod for this purpose, but it had meanwhile
been patented by one Pickard, and Watt, rather than make
terms with Pickard, whom he regarded as a plagiarist of
his own ideas, made use of his sun-and-planet motion
until the patent on the crank expired. The reciprocating
motion of earlier forms had served only for pumping ;
by this invention Watt opened up for the steam-engine a
thousand other channels of usefulness. The engine was
still single-acting ; the connecting rod was attached to the
far end of the beam, and that carried a counterpoise
which served to raise the piston when steam was admitted
below it.
14. In 1782 Watt patented two further improvements
of the first importance, both of which he had invented
some years before. One was the use of double action,
that is to say, the application of steam and vacuum to
each side of the piston alternately. The other (invented
as early^as 1769) was the use of steara e.xpansively, in
other words the plan (now used in all engines that aim at
economy of fuel) of stopping the admission of steam when
the piston had made _ only a part of its stroke, and allow-
ing the rest of the stroke to be performed by the expan-
sion of the steam already in the cylinder. To let the
piston push as well as pull the end of the beam Watt
devised his so-called parallel motion, an arrangement of
links connecting the piston-
rod head with the beam in
such a way as to guide
the rod to move in a
very nearly straight
line. Hefurtheradded
the throttle-valve, for
regulating the rate of
admission of steam, and
the centrifugal gover-
nor, a double conical
pendulum, which con-
trolled the speed by
acting on the throttle-
valve. The stage of de-
velopment reached
at this time is illus-
trated by the en-
gine of fig. 7 (from
Stuart's History of
the Steam-Engine),
which shows the
parallel motion pp,
the governor g, the ^'°- "— '^»"'» DouWe-Actine Engine. 1782.
throttle-valve i, and a pair of steara and exhaust valves at
esich end of the cylinder. Among other inventions of
Watt were the " indicator," by which diagrams showing
the relation of the steam-pressure in the cylinder to.. the
movement of the piston are automatically drawn : a steam
tilt-hammer ; and also a steara locomotive for ordinary
roads, — but this invention was not prosecuted.
In partnership with Matthew Boulton. Watt carried on
in Birmingham the manufacture and sale of his engines
■with the utmost success, and held the field against all
rivals in spite of severe assaults on the validity of his
patents. Notwithstanding his accurate knowledge of the
advantage to be gained by using steam expansively he
continued to employ only low pressures — seldom more
than 7 B) per square inch over that of the atmosphere.
His boilers were fed, as Newcomen's had been, tlirough an
open pipe which rose high enough to let the column of
water in it balance the pressure of the steam. He intro-
duced the term "horse-power" as a mode cf rating
engines, defining one horse-power as the rate at which
work is done when 33,000 tt) are raised one fcot in one
minute. This estimate was based on trials of the work
done by horses ; it is excessive as a statement of what an
average horse can do, but Watt purposely made it so in
order that his customers might have no reason to complain
on this score.
15. In the fourth claim in Watt's first patent, the
second sentence describes a non-condensing engine, which
would have required steam of a higher pressure. This,
however, was a line of invention which Watt did not
follow up, perhaps because so early as 1725 a non-con-
densing engine had been described by Leupold in his
Theatrum Machinarum. Leupold's proposed engine is
shown in fig. 8, which makes its action sufficiently clear.
Watt's aversion to high-pressure steara was
strong, and its influence on
steam-engine practice long sur-
vived the expiry of his patents.
So much indeed was this the
case that the terms "high-
pressure" and "non-condens-
ing" were for many years
synonymous, in contra-
distinction to the "low-
pressure " or condensing
engines of Watt. This
nomenclature no longer
holds ; in modern practice
many condensing engines
use as high pressures as
non-condensing engines,
and by doing so are able
to take advantage of
Watt's great invention
of expansive working to a degree ■which was impossible in
his own practice.
16. The introduction of the non-condensing and, at
that time, relatively high-pressure engine, was effected in
England by Trevithick and in America by Oliver Evans
about 1800. Both Evans and Trevithick applied their
engines to propel carriages on roads, and both used for
boiler a cylindrical vessel with a cylindrical flue inside —
the -construction now known as the Cornish, boiler. In
partnership with Bull, Trevithick had previously made
direct-acting pumping-engines, with an inverted cylinder
set over and in line with the pump-rod, thus dispensing
with the beam that had been a feature in all earlier forms.
But in these " BuU " engines, as they were called, a con-
denser was used, or, rather, the steam was condensed by a
jet of cold water in the exhaust-pipe, and Boulton and
Watt successfully opposed them as infringing Vfatt's
patents. To Trevithick belongs the distinguished honour
of being the first to use a steam-cafriage on a railway ; in
1804 he built a locomotive in the modern sense, to run on
what had formerly been a horse-tramway in Wales, and it
i!3 noteworthy that the exhaust steam w-as discharged into
the funnel to force the furnace draught, a device which, 35
J ears later, in the hands of George Stephenson, went faj
to make the locomotive what it is to-day. In this con-
nexion it may be added that as early as 1769 a steam-
Non taXr
densisg
enginar
Lenpold,
1725.
Fig. 8. — Leupold's Non-Condenaing Engine,
1725.
High-
pressuni
steam ;
Trenth-
ick and
Erans
BARLY mSTOEY.]
S T E A M-E N G I N E
477
carriage for roads had been built by Cugnot in France,
who used a pair of single-acting high-pressure cylinders lo
turn a driving axle step by step by means of pawls and
ratchet-wheels. To the initiative of Evans may be
ascribed the early general use of high-pressure steam in
the United States, a feature which for maoy years distin-
guished American from English practice.
17. Amongst the contemporaries of Watt one name
deserves special mention. In 1781 Jonathan Hornblower
'constructed and patented what would now be called a
compound engine, with two cylinders of different sizes.
Steam was first admitted into the smaller cylinder, and
then passed over into the larger, doing work against a
piston in each. In Hornblower's engine the two cylinders
were placed side by side, aud both pistons worked on the
same end of a beam overhead. This was an instance of
the use of steam expansively, and as such was earlier than
the patent, though not earlier than the invention, of ex-
pansive working by Waft. Hornblower was crushed by the
Birmingham firm for infringing their patent in the use of a
separate condenser and air-pump. The compound engine
*o(,if, was revived in 1804 by Woolf, with whose name it is
1804. often associated. Using steam of fairly high pressure, and
cutting ofi the supply before the end of the stroke in the
small cylinder, Woolf expanded the steam to several times
its original volume. Mechanically the double-cylinder
compound engine has this advantage over an engine in
which the same amount of expansion is performed in a
single cylinder, that the sum of the forces exerted by the
two pistons in the compound engine varies less throughout
the action than the force exerted by the piston of the
single-cylinder engine. This advantage may have been
clear to Hornblower and Woolf, and to other early users
of compound expansion. But another and probably a
more important merit of the system lies in a fact of which
neither they nor for many years their followers in the
use of compound engines were aware — the fact that by
dividing the whole range of expansion into two parts the
cylinders in which these are separately performed are
subject to a reduced range of fluctuation in their tempera-
ture. This, as will be afterwards pointed out, limits to
a great extent a source of waste which is present in all
steam-engines, the waste which results from the heating
and cooling of the metal by its alternate contact with hot
and cooler steam. The system of compound expansion is
now used in nearly all largo engines that pretend to
economy. Its introduction forms the only great improve-
ment which the steam-engine has undergone since the
time of Watt; and we are able to recognize it as a very
important step in the direction set forth in his "first
principle," that the cylinder should be kept as hot as the
ateam that enters it.
OonaA 18. Woolf introduced the compound engine somewhat
angino widely about 1811, as a pumping engine in the mines of
Cornwall. But here it met a strong competitor in the
high-pressure single-cylinder engine of Trevithick, which
had the advantage of greater simplicity in construction.
Woolf's engine fell into comparative disuse, and the single-
cylinder type took a form which, under the name of the
Cornish pumping engine, was for many years famous for
its great economy of fuel. In this engine the cylinder
was set under one end of a beam, from the other end of
which hung a heavy rod which operated a pump at the
foot of the shaft. Steam was admitted above the piston
for a short portion of the stroke, thereby raising the purap-
rod, and was allowed to expand for the remainder. Then
an equilibrium valve, connecting the space above and telow
the piston, as in fig. 6, was opened, and the pump-rod
descended, doing work in the pump and raising the
engine piston. The lurge mass which had to be started
and stopped at each stroke served by its inertia to counter-
balance the unequal pressure of the steam, for the ascend-
ing rods stored up energy of motion in the early part of
the stroke, when the steam pressure was greatest, and
gave out energy in the later part, when expansion had
greatly lowered the pressure. The frequency of the stroke
was controlled by a device called a cataract, consisting
of a small plunger pump, in which the plunger, raised at
each stroke by the engine, was allowed to .descend more
or less slowly by the escape of fluid below it through an
adjustable orifice, and in its descent liberated catches
which held the steam and exhaust valves from opening.
A similar device controlled the equilibrium valve, and
could be set to give a pause at the end of the piston's
down-stroke, so that the pump cylinder might have time
to become completely filled.- The Cornish engine is inter-
esting as the earliest form which achieved an efficiency
comparable with that of good modern engines. For many
years monthly reports were published of the " duty " of
these engines, the " duty " being the number of foot-
pounds of work done per bushel or (in some cases) per
cwt. of coal. The average duty of engines in the Corn-
wall district rose from about 18 millions of foot-pounds
per cwt. of coal in 1813 to 68 millions in 1844, after
which less effort seems to have been made to maintain a
high efficiency.^ In individual cases much higher results
were reported, as in the Fowey Consols engine, which in
1835 was stated to have a duty of 125 millions. This,
(to use a more modern mode of reckoning) is equivalent
to the consumption of only a little more than If tt) of
coal per horse-power per hour — a result surpassed by very
few engines in even the best recent practice. It is difii-
cult to credit figures which, even in exceptional instances,
place the Cornish engine of that period on a level with
the most efficient modern engines — in which compound
expansion and higher pressure combine to make a much
more perfect thermodynamic machine; and apart from
this there is room to question the accuracy of the Cornish
reports. They played, however, a useful part in the
process of steam-engine development by directing atten-
tion to the question of efficiency, and by demonstrating
the advantage to be gained by high pressure and expan-
sive working, at a time when the theory of the steam-
engine had not yet taken shape.
1 9. The final revival of the compound engine did not com
occur until about the middle of the century, and then P°^\';;;
several agencies combined to effect it. In 1845 M'Naught
introduced a plan of improving beam engines of the
original Watt type, by adding a high-pressure cylinder
whose piston acted on the beam between the centre and
the fly-wheel end. Steam of higher p.ressuro than had
formerly been used, after doing work in the new cylinder,
passed into the old or low-pressure cylinder, where it was
further expanded. Many engines whose power was proving
insufficient for the. extended machinery they had to drive
were " M'Naughted " in this way, and after conversion
were found not only to yield , more power but to show
a marked economy of fuel. The compound form wa^
selected by Mr Polo for the pumping engines of Lambeth
and other waterworks about 1850; in 1854 John Elder
began to use it in Inarine engines; in 1857 Mr Cowpei
added a steam-jacketed intermediate reservoir for steara
between the high and, low pressure cylind'crs, which made
it unnecessary for the low-pressure piston to bo just
beginning when- the other piston was just ending its
stroke. As facilities increased for the use of high-pressure
steam, compound expansion became more and more general,
its advantage becoming more conspicuous with every
» Min. Proc. ItuL C.S., voL xxliL, 1863.
478
STEAM-ENGINE
increase in boiler pressure — until now there are few large
land engines and scarcely any marine engines that do
not employ it. In marine practice, where economy of
fuel is a much more important factor in determining the
design than it is on land, the principle of compound
expansion has lately been greatly extended by the intro-
duction of triple and even quadruple expansion engines,
in which the steam is made to expand successively in
three or in four cylinders. Even in the building of
locomotive engines, where other considerations are of
more moment than the saving of coal, the system of com-
pound expansion is beginning to find a place.
The growth of compound expansion has been referred
to at some length, because it forms the most distinctive
improvement which the steam-engine has undergone since
the time of Watt. For the rest, the progress of the steam-
engine has consisted in its adaptation to particular uses,
in the invention of features of mechanical detail, in the
recognition and application of thermodynamical prin-
ciples, and in improved methods of engineering construc-
tion by which it has profited in common with aU other
machines. These have in particular made possible the
use of steam of eight or ten times the pressure of that
employed by Watt,
ipplica- 20. The adaptation of the steam-engine to railways,
Son to began by Trevithick, became a success in the hands of
^^' George Stephenson, whose engine the " Rocket," when
tried 'along with others on the Stockton and Darlington
road in 1829, not only distanced its competitors but
settled once and for all the question whether horse
traction or steam traction was to be used on railways.
The principal features of the "Rocket" were an improved
steam-blast for urging the combustion of coal and a boiler
(suggested by Booth, the secretary of the railway) in
which a large heating surface was given by the use of
many small tubes through which the hot gases passed.
Further, the cylinders, instead of being vertical as in
earlier locomotives, were set in at a slope, which was
afterwards altered to a position more nearly horizontal.
To these features there was added later the " link motion,"
a contrivance which enabled the engine to be easily
reversed and the amount of expansion to be readily
varied. In the hands of George Stephenson and his son
Robert the locomotive took a form which has been in all
essentials maintained by the far heavier locomotives of
to-day.
A.ppl3ca- 21. The first practical steamboat was the. tug "Char-
Son to lotte Dundas," built by William Symmington, and tried
'^^- in the Forth and Clyde Canal in 1802. A Watt double-
acting condensing engine," placed horizontally, acted
directly by a connecting-rod on the crank of a shaft at
the stern, which carried a revolving paddle-wheel. The
trial was successful, but steam towing was abandoned
for fear of injuring the banks of the canal. Ten years
later Henry Bell built the "Comet," with side paddle-
wheels, which ran as a passenger steamer on the Clyde j
but an earlier inventor to follow up Symmington's success
was the American Robert Fulton, who, after unsuccessful
experiments on the Seine, fitted a steamer on the Hudson
in 1807 with engines made to his designs by Boulton and
Watt, and brought steam navicmtion for the first time to
commercial success.
22. The early inventors Aad little in the way of theory
to guide them. Watt had the advantage, which he
acknowledges, of a knowledge of Black's doctrine of latent
heat ; but there was no philosophy of the relation of
work to heat until long after the inventions of Watt
were complete. The theory of the steam-engine as a
heat-engine dates from 1824, when Carnot published his
Kejiexions sur la Puissance Motrice du Feu, and showed
[eAKI-T HISTORY;
that heat does work only by 'being let down from a higher
to a lower temperature. But Carnot had no idea that
any of the heat disappears in the process, and it was not
until the doctrine of the conservation of energy was
established in 1843 by the experiments of Joule that the
theory of heat-engines began a vigorous growth. From
1849 onwards the science of thermodynamics was devel-
oped with extraordinary rapidity by Clausius, Rankine,
and Thomson, and was applied, especially by Rankine, to
practical problems in the use of steam. The publication
in 1859 of Rankine's Manual of the Steam Engine formed
an epoch in the history of the subject by giving inventors
a new basis, outside of mere empiricism, from whicl
they could push on the development of the steam-engine.
Unfortunately, however, for its bearing on practice, the
theory of the steam-engine was to a great extent founded
on certain simplifying assumptions which experience has
now shown to be far from correct. It was assumed thai
the cylinder and piston might be treated as behaving to
the steam like non-conducting bodies, — that the transfer
of heat between the steam and the metal was negligibly
small. Rankine's calculations of steam-consumption, work,
and thermodynamic efficiency involve this assumption,
except in the case of steam-jacketed cylinders, where hf
estimates that the steam in its passage through the cylinder
takes just enough heat from the jacket to prevent a small
amount of condensation which would otherwise occur as
the process of expansion goes on. If the transfer of heat
from steam to metal could be overlooked, the steam
which enters the cylinder would remain during admission
as dry as it was before it entered, and the volume of
steam consumed per stroke would correspond with the
volume of the cylinder up to the point of cut-off. It is here
that the actual behaviour of steam in the cylinder diverge?
most widely from the behaviour which the theory assumes.
When steam enters the cylinder it finds the metal chilled
by the previous exhaust, and a portion of it is at once
condensed. This has the effect of increasing, often very
largely, the volume of boiler steam required per stroke.
As expansion goes on the water that was condensed during
admission begins to be re-evaporated from the sides of
the cylinder, and this action is often prolonged into the
exhaust. In a later chapter the effect which this exchange
of heat between the metal of the cylinder and the work-
ing fluid produces on the economy of the engine will be
discussed, and an account will be given of experimental
means by which we may examine the amount of steam
that is initially condensed and trace its subsequent re-'
evaporation. It is now recognized that any theory which
fails to take account of these exchanges of heat fails also
to yield even comparatively correct results in calculating
the relative efficiency of various steam pressures or various
ranges of expansion. But the exchanges of heat are so
complex thaa; there seems little prospect of submitting
them to any comprehensive theoretical treatment, and we
must rather look for help in the future development of
engines to the scientific analysis of experiments with
actual machines. Much careful work of this kind haS
already been done by Him and others, and there is room
for much more. Questions relating to the influence (on
, heat-engine economy) of speed, of pressure, of ratio o£
expansion, of jacketing, of compound expansion, or of
superheating must in the main be settled by an appeal to
experiment, — experiment guided and interpreted at everj
step by reference to the principles of thermodynamics and
the theory of steam.
References. — Stnart, Descriptive Bistory of the Steam-Engine^ 1825 ; Far«T
Treatise on the Steam-Engme, 1827; Tredgnid, The Steam-Engine. 1838: MoJi-
heKi'i ifeehanical Jnventioni of James Watt •>*id Life of Wail; Oalluway, TV
Steam-Engine and its Inventors; Thurston, Bistort/ cf the Orotrlh of the St^an^
Engine; Cowper on the Steam-Englne {Beat Lectures Inst. C.E., 1884X Talt
Sketch of Tliermodi/namtcf.
,,HKOEV or HE.VT-KKGXKKS.1 S T E A. M - E N G I N E
479
II. Theory of Heat-Enoines.
23. "A heat-ei.gino acts by taking in heat, couvcrting a part of
'the heat received into mechanical energy, which appcai-s as the
work done by the engine, and rejecting the remainder still in the
foi-m of heat. The theory of heat-engines comprises the study of
the amount of work done, in its relation to the heat supplied and
to the heat rejected. The theory is based on the two laws of
ithermodynamics. which may be stated hero as follows :-
Law I fi^hen mechanical aurgij is produced from heal, 1 t/un-mai
• existence fur cvcitj 773 foot-pouM$ of work
'unit of heat goes 0!(« o/i:j;i«t/ii.o /«/ '■-^■■j ",•'•'"■'• ,-:, „,
do»e- a,ui, converscbj, when heat is produced bn the cxpmdilnre of
mecluinical encroy, 1 iJurmal unit of IimU coincs mto existence for
tvery 772 foot-pounds of icork spent. . .,„.„„„,
The "thermal unit" is the heat re.iuired to raise the tempera-
ture of 1 lb of water 1 degree Fahr. when at its temperature of
maxiunira density. The equivalent quantity of work, , ti toot-
pounds, was determiued by the experiments of Joule and is called
Joule's equivalent. Later researches by Joule and others have
indicated that this number is probably too small ; it should
perhaps be as much as 774 foot-pounds. Joule's original value is
ItiU generally used by eusineers: and as ^t <="tf ^ '■\'° '"^".y
published tables it may conveniently be adhered to until its
accuracy is more definitely disproved. Since a definite number of
foot-pounds are equivalent to 1 thenral unit, wemay, if we please
express quantities of work in thermal units, or quantities of heat
in foot-poiuids; the latter practica will frequently be found
""law 1 nu impossible for a self-acting machine, unaided by any
external agency, to convey heatfro-.i) one body to another at a higher
'*'T^hT9''is"the form in which the second law has been stated by
Clausins. Another statement of it, ditferent in form but similar
in effect, has been given by Thomson. Its force may not be
immediately obvious, but it will be shown below that it introduces
a most important limitation of tlie power which any engine has
of converting heat into work. So far as the first law shows, there
is nothing to prevent the whole heat taken in by the engine from
changing into mechanical energy. In consequence of the second
- law, however, no heat-engine converts, or can convert, more than
|a small fraction of the heat supplied to it mto work; a large part
ja necessarily rejected as heat. The ratio
Heat converted into work
Heat taken in by the engine
is a fraction always much less than nnity. This ratio is caUed the
efficiency of the engine considered as a heat-engine. , . , , ,
Working 24. In every heat-SJigme there is a working substance which takes
"b ^ in and rejects heat,^thereby suffering changes of form, or more
Amce. commonly of volume, and does work by overcoming resistance to
these changes of form or volume. The working substance may
be gaseous, liquid, or soUd. We can, for example, imagine a heat-
en^nc in which the working substance is a long metallic rod,
arranged to act as the pawl of a ratchet-wheel with fine teeth.
Let the rod be heated so that it elongates sufficiently to drive the
wheel forward through the space of one tooth. Then let the rod
be coolci (say by applying cold water), the wheel bein" meanwhile
held from returning by a separate click or detent. Xhe rod, on
cooling, will retract so as to engage itself with the next succeeding
tooth, which may then be driven forward by heating the rod again,
and so on. To make it evident that such an engine would do
work wc have only to suppose that the ratchet-wheel carries round
with 'it a drum by which a weight is wound up. AVe have, then
a complete heat-engine, in which the working sul^stance is a solid
rod which receives heat by being brought into contact with some
Bourco of heat at a coinp;iratively high Scnipcrature, transforms a
small, part of this heat into work, and rejects the remaimicr to
what we may call a receiver of heat, at a coryparatively low
temperature. The greater part of the heal may bO .■^aid simply to
pass through the engine, from the source to the receiver, becoming
degraded as regards temperature as it goes. We shall see presently
that this is typical of the action of all heat-engines ; when they
are doing work, the heat which they reject is rejected at a tempera-
ture lower than that at which it is taken in. Th.,y convert some
Jieat into work only by letting down a much larger quanity ol
heat from a higli to a relatively low temperature. Ihe action is
. analogous to that of a water-wheel, which docs work by let mt
down water from a high to a lower level, but with this important
difference that in the transfer which occurs in heat-engines an
amount of heal disappears which is equivalent to the work done.
25. In jilmost all actual heat-engines the working substance is a
fluid. In some it is air, in some a mixture of sovornl gases, in tuo
steam-engine the working duid is a mixture (in varying proportions)
of water and steam. With a lluid for working subsUnco, work is
.done by changes of volume only : its amount depends solely on tuo
relation of pressure to volume daring the change, and not at all on
the form of thovcsscb in which the change lakci place. Letadiagram
bo drawn (fig. 9) in which the relation of the mtuusity of prcsnure
Fig. 9.
to the volume of any supposed working substance is graphically
exhibited by the line ABC. where AM, CN are pressures and AP,
CQ are volumes, then the work done by the substance in exijand-
ing from A to C is the area of the figure MABCN. And similarly,
if the substance be compressed from
C back to its original volume in such ,
a manner that the Jino CDA repre-
sents the relation of pressure and
volume during compression, the work
done upon the substance is the figure
NCDAM. Taking the two operations
together, wo find that the substance
has done a net amount of work equal
to the area of the shaded figure
ABCDA, or /?dV. This is' an ex-
ample and a generalization of the , , , . .
method of representing work which Watt introduced by his inven-
tion of the indicator ; the figure ABCDA ma;: be called the indicator
diagram of the si-pposcd action. '
20. Generally in heat-engines the working suDstance retumb
periodically to the same state of temperature, pressure, volume,
and physical condition. When this has occurred the substance jb
said to have i.assed through a complete cycle of operations, ior
example, in a conden.sing steam-engine, water taken from the hot-
well is pumped into the boiler; it then passes into the cylinder as
steam, passes thence into the condenser, and thence ogam into
the hot-well; it completes the cycle by returning to the same con-
dition as at first, hi other less obvious cases, as in that of the
non-condensing steam-engine, a little consideration will show that
the cycle is completed, not indeed by the same portion of working
substance being returned to the boiler, but by an equ.i quantity
of water being fed to it, while the steam which has been discharged
into the atmosphere cools to the temperature of the feed. In the
theory of heat engines it is of the first importance to consider
(as was first done by.Caraot in 1824) the cycle of operations per-
formed by the working substance as a complete whole If we s op
short of the completion of a cycle matters are complicated by the
fact that the substance is in a state different from its initial state,
and may therefore have changed its stock of internal eneiCT-,
After a complete cycle, on the other hand we know at once that
since the condition is the same, the internal energy of the substance
is the same as at first, and therefore—
Heat taken in = work done -I- heat rejected frs„rf„,
97 It will serve our purpose best to approach the theory of En^e
hea -eigin brco"sideri^g,'^in the first iLtance, the action of working
an ensine in which the working substance js any one of the with a
so-caTlfdvemanent gases, or a mixture of them, such as a.r. The perfect
wo d perrn'nt, as applied to a gas, can now > be ""'lerstood only gas.
as meaning that the gas is Hquefied with difficulty- itler by the
use of extremely low temperature or extremely high pr"'^uf« o^
both. So long as gases are under conditions of pressure and tern-
peraturo widely different from those which produce l'n"^'f^'"°°.
hey confonn very approximately to -■y'^J'l/^'Vd^al subs7anc
which may be regarded as rigoroiisly anplicable '» " '^' ^"^f ''""^
called perfect ga°ses. After stating _t\iese_ haws bneny we sha^
examine the efficiency of a heat-engine l''''S^J%'\^'l^^^
mauuer as woikiu" substance, and then show that the conclusion
"derived hi: a general application to all l^eat-engin^ whatsoever
In this procedure there is no sacrifice of ge°"^('ty. ""^ „f^»e u^
the process is of independent service in the discussion of actual
"' 23!'°The laws of the permanent gases are the ''"""^^''"S J"'
Law 1 (Boyle). The volume of a given nu.s of gas land
inversely as the pressure, the temperature being kept co'istaM.
Thus if V be the volume of 1 lb of a gas in <:"V>ic feet,- and P
the pre'ssure in pounds per square foot, so long as the temperaturo,
is unchanged — , „„ . .
Pot V-', or PV-constaiit.
For air the value of the constant is 2G220 when the teuporature is
^'^29:' Law 2 (Charles). Under co^tstant pressure '9''^\f.^'"""l
di^crent gases Uiere J equally for tJio ^<^'nc ^-^remaU ofUmpc^-
lure Also, if a gas be healed under constant pressu, e '?"<•' '"J^
tr* :f Us volume correspond very nearly to ^9-"l^-[<^^J/ '^
peraturc as determined by thf. *»'%"/ ».'''V'"''7rlwdroc"ileo ot
Thus, let us take, say, 493 cubic inches of l>Xf °f "• "'^„J
oxygen of air. ic, all at 32° F., and, keeping each at '"=<"'»^°^
pressure (not necessarily the same for oil), hea ^ J ?° "'*' ^^^
temperatirre rises 1° F. We shall Cid tl'^V^^'^J '"/ub^c ind,«J
sensibly the .same amount and now '"■^"1"'^^,,",V F to 34* K.
And further, if we heat any one through "'jf''?' , J' „Xo „a^
we shall find that its volume is now 495 '="'i'^™;Xm;^
Thus for uny gas, kept at constant ^cssure. if the volame wi;
. sine, tho ll<iu.a.clloa oJ b/drogcn and oUicr g«M by M-M. Wa<^ »f
Plctol,
480
it Would be
S T E A M-E N G I N E
493 at 32° F.,
492 at 31° F.,
461 at 0°F.,
[theoey of
and finally 6 81.-461"^,
provided the same law were to hold at indefinitely low temperatures
Ihis we may assume to be the ease with a perfect gas, although
any actual gas would change its physical state long before so low a
temperature were reached.
This result may be concisely expressed by saying that "if we
rojkon temperature, not from the ordinary zero but from a point
461 below the zero of Fahrenheit's scale, the volume of a given
quantity of a gas, kept at constant pressure, is proportional to the
temperature reckoned from that zefo. Temperatures so reckoned
are caUed absolute temperatures, and the point - 461° F is called
the absolute zero of temperature. Denoting any temperature
according to the ordinary scale by t, and the corresponding
absolute temperature by t, we have ^
T = ^ + 461 on the Fahrenheit scale,
■°" T = « + 274 on the Centigrade scale.
Charles;s law shows that if temperatures be measured by thermo-
meters in which the expanding substance is air, hydrogen, oxveen
or any other permanent gas, and, if those intervals of temperature
be called equal which correspond to equal amounts of expansion,
then the indications of these thermometers always agree very
closely with each other, and also agree, though less elosely, with
♦v!*'*^"'^,""' °^.\ mercury thermometer. We shall see later
t^ L .^'°''y,°^'j''^'-'°g'°^^ '■^°'^^ a means of forming a
thermometno scale which is independent of the properties, as to
e^ansion, of any substance, and that this scale coincides with the
Bcale of a perfect gas thermometer, a fact which justifies the use of
the term absolute, as appUed to temperatures measured by the
expansion of a gas. ■^^'^ u]
30. Combining laws 1 and 2, we have, for a given masa of any gas
r^f^ ^'i! ^ '^°."^'?"t depending on the specific density of the gas
^ on the units in which P and V are measured. In what follows
weshall assume that P is measured in pounds per square foot, that
V IS the volume of 1 lb in cubic feet, and that t is the absolute
temperature in Fahrenheit degrees. In air, with these units
PV = 53-18t.
-JV ^'^/■^ ^ (Regnault). The specific heat at constant pressure is
tonstantfor any gas.
vJ^-?^""}^" ^f ' ^' constant pressure is meant the heat taken in
By I n> of a substance when its temperature rises 1° F while the
pressure remains uncha.,ged-the volume of course increasing.
The law states that this quantity is the same for any one gas, no
^r V ^I^ ^' ""^ temperature, or what the constant pressure
at which the process of heating takes place
32. Another important quantity in the theory of heat-engines is
the specific h^t at constant volume, that is, the heat taken in by
1 ID 01 the substance when its temperature rises 1° F. while the
wiTh,1l'°;"°'. UDchanged-the pressure of course increasing."
We shall denote specific, heat at constant pressure by k' and
specific heat at constant volume by K.. Let 1 lb of a gas be heated
tM^^JVi'^'l^ ^ ^T '™P«^'"^^ n to temperature r, (abso-
I, t!L. ■ ' ^' "1" ^° ""' ?' ^> ^"'^ ^^ ^'^^ ■'°I»'°^ at ^- • Heat
^kenjn, and external work is done by the expansion of the gas,'
Heat taken in = Kp(t. - t,).
Ihe difference between these quantities, or (K,-cXt„-t,1 laths
amount by which the stock of internal energ^ posse=ssei by he
^s has increased during the process. We shall see presently that
this gain of internal energy would have been the same had the gas ■
passed in any other manner from tj to t, . <- <= gas 1
.„ii' ^*r \i^°f?\ ■ ^^'^^ " ?"* ^^nds without doing external
n^ change "^ "* °'' ^'"^'"^ """ ^^^' ^" ^^P^^l^^re does
J^liT'"' *i''' J'"^'«, connected a vessel containing compressed
f^lZJ^ r"'^", ''''i"' u*'"'' "'f ^"Pty' ''y '"^a°= of a pipe with
a closed ston-cock. Both vessels were immersed in a tub of water
and were allowed to assume a uniform temperature. Then the
stop-cock was opened, the gas expanded mthout doing external
work, and finally the temperature of the water in the tub was found
to have undergone no change. The temperature of the gas was
nnaltered,.and no heat had been tak.n in ov given out by it.
»« i i!"-! '• ^*^ Y'^ "''"""■ sained nor lost heat, and had done
no work. Its internal energy was the same at the end as at the
Deginniugof the experiment The pressure and volume had
rt:^^li- ^,i *''■' temperature had not. We must therefore con.
onW on it« ^ '"''r*' ^°'J"Sy of a given mass of a gas depends
othpr IrH. C""'; ^"'^ not upon its pressure or volume ; in
other words a change of pressure and volume not associated with
« change of temperature does not alter the internal energy. Hence ]
in any change of temperature the change of internal energy is inde-
pendent of tlie relation of pressure to volume throughout the onera-
uon. How we have seen above that the quantity
(K,-C)(r2-T,)
measures the gain of internal energy when 1 lb of a gas has its
temperature changed from r, to r, in one particular warnamely
at constant pressure. Hence this same quantity also me^ur" the
fhTn^edfrom" f'""«^ "^"^ ' ^ °C' ^"^ "^^ ^^^ tempei^t^e
Ir^ X, ■^i '" '■^ '" any manner whatsoever.
coL^Unt^oVur nh'e\rtlL";f i: ^^ '-''' ^-"" ^' *° '» »»
fh^rX^rrsV^qu^no*'''^^''^'-"^^^ °' ^'^-^^ -«^y. -^^^
tr • (^J'~<')(tj-t,).
Hence in any gas
T^! Tn" ^''/^/jy'" be denoted by y; obviously K.-e/(v-l).
IsefuuX"]? table of values of K„ k., ., andy will l4 fow/i
useim in deaUng with air and gas engines. " '
Table I. — Properties of Oases.
Dry air
Oxygen
Nitrogen
Hydrogen
Carbonic oxide
Carbonic acid
Marsh gas
defiant gas
Steam gas, or highly (
superheated steam ... |
K,
Foot-lb3.
183-4
167-9
188-2
2632
189-1
167-4
457-7
311-9
371
K,.
Foot-lbs.
130-2
119-8
133-4
1864
133-4
132-6
363-1
257-7
285-5
Foot-lbs.
63-2
48-1
64-8
768
65-7
34-8
94-6
64-2
85-5
1-409
1-402
1-411
1-412
1-418
1-263
1-261
1-213
1-30
thff'nf^rol^^'l-"?,"' 'I'-'i':" '? ^^^ consideration of diagrams like Work
that of § 25, which exhibit the action J - ■
of a working substance by curves show-
ing the relation of P tO/V during ex-
pansion or compression. lu most of
the instances which occur in the theory |
of heat-engines such curves may be ex- "
actly or approximately represented by
equations of the form
PV" = constant,
where the index n has various numer-
ical values. Let AB, fig. 10, be a curve
of. expansion (of any substance) in Fig. 10.-
which PV" is constant, from pressure P, and volume V, at A to
pressure P, and volume V, at B. We have, by assumption.
p,v,''=p V 1
The work done is ' ' ' ° '
yv, ' i/v, V» l-a
This may also be written
PiV.d-;-'-")
where r is the ratio Vj/Vi, which may be called the ratio of
expansion.
StUl another form of the above expression for the work done is
P.Vi-PoV.,
n-1
37. Applying this result to the case of an expanding gas, wa,
have
Work done = c (tj - t,) / (» - 1 ).
The loss of internal energy during expansion is, by § 34,
K.(Ti-To),orr(Ti-T2)/(7-l), by §35.
Suppose now that the mode of expansion is such that the loss ofi
internal energy is equal to the external work done, then
£(tj_ZIs) <^(ti - T;) „„„ .„
and the law of expansion is
PV- constant.
The same formula applies when a gas is being compressed in
such a manner that the work spent upon the gas is equal to the
gain of internal energy by the gas.
38. This mode of expansion (or compression) is termed adia-
batic. It occurs when 'the working substance is neither gaining
nor losing heat by conduction or radiation or internal chemical
action. It would be realized if we had a substance expanding or
being compressed, without chemical change, in a cylinder which
(with the piston) was a peofeet nonconductor of heat. In adiabatiOi
&EAT-EKGINES.]
exT^ansion the external work is done entirely at th6 expense of the
substance's stock of internal energy. Hence in the adiabatic expan-
sion of a gas the temperatnre falls, and in adiabatic compression it
rises To find the chaufre of temperature in a gas when expanded
or compressed adiabaticaUy we have only to combine the equations
P.yir.P,y,rand^^-tl,
.„d we find .,.., (V,/V,f- '.
It is clear 'from the above that if, durinj,' expansion, n is less
than 7 the fluid is taking in heat, and if n is greater than y the
fluid is rejecting heat. , , .
39 Another very important mode of exiiausiou or compression
is that called isothermal, in whidi the temperature of the working
substance is kept constant during the process.
In the case of a gas the curve of isothermal expansion is a
.•ectangular hyperbola, having the equation
PV- constant = i;t.
^Tien a gas expands (or is compressed) isothermally at tempera-
ture T from Vi to Vj the work done by (or upon) it (per lb) is
STEAM-ENGINE
481
/>^'"^/i
^"'-dV
= PVl0g,9--CTl0g//
Fig. 11.
Fig. 12.— Camol's Cycle, with a gas
for working substance.
original value Tj. [In other words, the third operation must b«
stopped when a point d is reached tucli that an adiabatic lins
drawn through d will pass through a.] This completes the cycle, i
To find the proper place at which to stop the third operation, w»
have, by § 38, T,/T2 = (V,/Vk)V-' in the second operation, and agaia
Ti/'-i = (Vi/V. )V-' in the fourth operation. Hence Y. /Vt- Vj/V.;
and Vj/Vo, the ratio of isothermal exjiansion, is cqual_to_Yj/V<i,
ity w
either of these last ratios by )'.
the ratio of isothermal compression. For brevity '
e shall denote
from the
wbere r is the ratio XJX^ as before.'
During isothermal expansion or compression a gas snllers uo
change of internal energy (by § 34, since t tS constants Hence
during isothermal expansion a gas must
take in an amount of heat just equal to
the work it does, and during isothermal
compression it must reject an amount
of heat just equal to the work spent
upon it. The expression crlog^r con-
sequently measures, not only the work
done by or upon the gas, but also the
heat taken in during isothrtmal expan-
sion or given out during isothermal
compression. In the diagram, fig. 11,
the line AB is an example of a curve of isothermal expansion for
a perfect gas, caUed for brevity an isothermal line, while AC is an
adiabatic line starting from the same point A. _
40. We shall now consider the action of an ideal engine in
which the working substance is a perfect gas, and is caused to
pass through a cycle of changes
each of.which is either isother-
mal or adiabatic. The cycle
to be described was first exa-
mined by Carnot, and is spoken
of as Camot's cycle of opera-
tions. Imagine a cylinder and
piston composed of a perfectly
non - conducting material,
except as regards the bottom
of the cylinder, which is a
conductor. Imagine al.so a
hot body or indefinitely ca-
pacious source of heat A,
kept always at a tempera-
ture T,, a perfectly non-
conducting cover B, and a
cold body or indefinitely
capacious receiver of heat C, kept always at a temperature r^, which
is lower than t,. It is supposed that A, B, or C can be applied to
the bottom of the cylinder. Let. the cylinder contain 1 lb of a
perfect gas, at temperature t,, volume Va, and pressure Pa to begin
with. The suffixes refer to the points on the indicator diagram,
fig. 12.
(1) Apply A, and allow the piston to rise. The gas ex-pands
isothermally at t„ taking heat from A and doing work. The
pressure changes to Pi, and the volume toYt.
(2) Remove A and apply B. Allow tho piston to go on rising.
The gas expands adiabaticaUy, doing work at the expense of its
internal energy, and tho temperature falls. Let this go on until
the temperature is t,. The pressure is then P,, and the volume V,.
(3) Ilemovo B and apply C. Force tho niston down. The gas
is compressed isothermally at t;, since the smallest increase of
temperature above tj causes heat to pass into C. Work is spent
upon tho gas, and heat is rejected to C. Let this bo continued
uutil a certain point (i (fig. 12) is reached, such that tho fourth
operation will complete the cycle.
(4) Kemovo C ami apply li. Continue tho compression, which
is now adiabatic. The pressure and temperature rise, and if tho
point d has been properly chosen, when tho pressure is restored to
its origiual v.iluo Pa, the tcmperaturo will also havo risen to ita
> In cnlculntlons where Ihls expression Is Involved It 1b convenient to remem-
ber that top,, the liypcrbolic logaiitlun, of any nunibct- is 3'3020 times tho commoa
logarltbm of th« number.
41. The following aro the transfers of heat to and
working fluid, in successive stages of the cycle : —
(1) Heat taken in from A-CTilog.i- (by § 39).
(2) No heat taken in or rejected.
(3) Heat rejected to C-crjlog.r (by § 39).
(4) No heat taken in or rejected.
Hence, by^he first law of thermodyuaiuics, the net external work
done by the gas is
c(ti-t„) log, )•;
and the efficiency of the engine (§ 23) is
c(Ti-T;)log,r Ti-T^
CTjlog^r Ti
This is the fraction of the whole heat given to it which an
engine following Camot's cycle converts into work. The engine
takes in an amount of heat, at the temperature of the source, pro-
portional to Ti ; it rejects an amount of heat, at the temperature of
the receiver, proportional to tj. It works within a range of tem-
perature extending from t, to t,, by letting down heat from t, to
T„ (§ 24), and in the process it converts into work a fraction of that
heat, which fraction will be greater the lower the temperature
Tj at which heat is rejected is below the temnerature ti at which
heat is received. ,
42. Next let us consider what will happen if we reverse Carnot 8
cycle, that is to say, if we force this engine to act so thjit the same
indicator diagram as beforo is traced out, but in the direction
opposite to that followed in § 40. Starting as before from tho
point a and with the gas at Tj, we shall require the foUomng four
operations : —
(1) Apply B and allow the jjiston to rise. The gas expands
adiabaticaUy, the curve traced is ad, and when d is reached the
temperature has fallen to tj.
(2) Remove B and apply C. Allow the piston to go on rising.
The gas expands isothermally at tj, taking heat from C, and the
curve dc is traced.
(3) Remove C and apply B. Compress the gas. The process i3
adiabatic. Tho curve traced is cb, and when 4 is reached the
temperature has risen to t,.
(4) Remove B and apply A. Continue the compression, which
is now isothermal, at t,. Heat is now rejected to A, and the
cycle is completed by the curve ba.
In this process the engine is not doing work ; ou the contrary,
work is spent upon it equal to the arw. of the diagram, or
c(T,-T3)log,r. Heat is taken in from C in the first operation,
to the amount CTjlog,r. Heat is rejected to A in tho fourth
operation, to the amount CTilog,r. In the first and third opera-
tions there is no transfer of heat.
The action is now in every respect the reverse of what it
was beforo. Tho same work is now spent upon the engine as was
formerly done by it. The same amount of heat is now given to the
hot body A as was formerly taken from it. The same amount of
heat is now taken from the cold body C as was formerly given to it,
as will be seen by the following scheme : —
Camot's Cycle, Direct.
Work dono by tho engino = c(Ti-Ts)log,r ;
Heat taken from A — CTjlog^r ;
Heat rejected to C-CTjlog,/.
Camot's Cycle, litverscd.
Work spent upon tho engine -c(t. -Tj)log,»'j
Heat rejected to A-CTilog,r ;
Heat taken from C-CTjlog,r.
Tho reversal of tho work has been accompanied by an exact
reversal of each of the transfers of heat
43. An cngino in which this is possible is called, from the
thermodynamic point of view, a mcrsilk engine. In other words,
a reversible heat-engine is one which, if forced to traco out it!
indicator diagram reversed in direction, so that tho work wliioh
would bo done by tho engine, when running direct, is actually
spent upon it, will reject to the source of heat tho »amo quantity
of heat as, when running direct, it would take from tho source, and
will take from tho receiver of heat tho same quantity as, when
running direct, it would reject to tho receiver. Bj " the source of
heat" is meant tho hot body which acU as Bourci. mid l.v tho
receiver" is nieaut tho cold body \Uiich acts as :cCcivor, when ttio
XXII — 6 1
482
STEAM-ENGINE
[xffEORY 09
engine is running direct. Carnot's engine is one example of a
reversible engine. Tlie idea of thermodynamic reversibility is
higlily important, for the reason that no heat-engine can be more
efficient than a reversible engine, if both take in and reject heat at
the same pair of temperatures.
a. To prove this, let it be supposed that we have two engines
JI and N, of which N is reversible in the above sense, and that we
have a hot body A capable of acting as a source of heat, and a
cold body C capable of acting as a receiver of heat. The engine
;M is set to work as a heat-engine, taking heat from A and rejecting
heat to C. To prove that M cannot be more efficient than the
reversible engine N, we shall assume that it is more efficient, and
trace the consequences of that assumption.
Let M, working direct, be coupled so as to work N reversed ;
if we suppose that the engines are without mechanical friction, and
can be coupled up without loss of power, the work represented by the
indicator diagram of M is spent on N, and N mil therefore reject to
A an amount of heat which we will call Qa and take from B an
amount of heat which we will call Qb. Now, since N is reversible,
if it worked direct, taking Qa from A, it would do the same amount
of work as, in the supposed circumstances, is spent upon it.
Hence, if JI is more efficient than N it is taking from A an amount
of heat less than Qa, and consequently also is giving to B an
amount of heat correspondingly less than Qb. The joint effect,
therefore, of M workuig direct and K working reversed is that the
heat taken from A by M is less than the heat given to A by N, whOe
the heat given to B by M is less (to an equal extent) than the heat
taken from B by N. The consequence is that the hot body A
is gaining heat on the whole, and the cold body B is losing an
equal amount of heat ; in other words, with the continued action
ot the double system heat passes, in indefinitely large quantity,
from a cold body to a hot body, by means of an agency which,
it is to be observed, is purely self-acting, for if we suppose there is
no mechanical friction the system requires no help from without.
Kow this result is, by the second law of thermodynamics (§ 23),
contrary to all experience ; and we are forced to conclude that the
assumption that M is more efficient than the reversible engine N,
when both take in and reject heat at the same two temperatures,
is false. Hence, with given temperatures of source and receiver of
heat no engine is more efficient than a reversible engine.
Next, let M and N both be reversible and both work between
the same limits, but be different in any other respect. Then by
the foregoing argument M cannot be more efficient than N,
neither can N be more efficient than M. Hence all reversible heat-
engines taking in and rejecting heat at the same temneratures are
equally efficient.
45. These results imply that reversibility, in the thermodynamic
sense, is the criterion of what may be called perfection in a heat-
engine. A reversible engine is perfect in the sense that it cannot
bo improved on as regards efficiency : no other engine, taking in
and rejecting heat at the same temperatures, will convert into work
a greater fraction of the heat which it takes in. Moreover, if this
criterion be satisfied, it is as regards efficiency a matter of complete
indillerencc what is the nature of the working substance, or what,
""■' other respects, is the mode of the engine's action.
Efil- 46. Further, since all engines that nro reversible are equally
ciencj of efficient, provided they work between the same temperatures, an
a perfmjfc expression for the efficiency of one will apply equally to aU. Now,
heat- the engine Avhose efficiency we have. found in § 41 is one example of
Mgine. a reversible engine. Hence its efficiency
(t, - T„) / Ti
IS the efficiency of any reversible heat-engine whatsoever taking in
heat at t, and rejecting heat at t,. And, as no engine can be more
efficient than one that is reversible, this expression is the measure
of perfect efficiency. ^Ye have thus arrived at the immensely
important conclusion that no heat-engine can convert into work a
greater fraction of the heat which it receives than is expressed by
the e-xcess of the temperature of reception above that of rejection
divided by the absolute temperature of reception.
47. Briefly recapitulated, the steps of the argument by which
this result has been reached .are as follows. After stating the
experimental laws to which gases conform, wo examined the action
of a heat-engine in which the working substance took in heat
when at the temperature of the source and rejected heat when
at the temperature of the receiver, the change of temperature
from one to the other of these limits being accomplished by
adiabatic expansion and adiabatic compression. Taking a special-
case in which this engine had for its working substance a perfect
gas, we found that its efficiency was (tj - t„) / tj (§ 41). We also
observed that it was, in the thermodynamic sense, a reversible
engine (§ 43). Then we found, by an application of the second
law of thermodynamics, that no heat-engine can have a higher
efficiency than a reversible engine, when taking in and giving out
heat at the samb two temperatures tj and to ; this was shown by
the fact that a lontrary assumption leads to a violation of the
second law (§ 44). Hence, we concluded that all reversible heat-
engiucs receiving and rejecting heat at the same temperatures tj
To respectively are equally efficient, and hence that the efficiency
• Ti) /t,, already determined for one particular reversible eneine
and
('■i-Toj/T,, aireaay ueterniincd lor one particular reversible engine,
measures the efficiency of any reversible engine, and is a hmit of
efficiency which no engine whatever can e.'iceed.
48. The second law of thermodynamics, on which (along with
the first law) this conclusion rests has been given in many different
forms. The statement of it in § 23 is that of Clausius, and is
very similar to that of Sir W. Thomson. Rankine, to whom with
Thomson and Clausius is due the development of the theory of heat-
engines from the point at which Carnot left it, has stated the second
law in a form which is neither ea.sy to understand, nor obvioxia, as
an experimental result, when understood. His statement runs :
"If the absolute temperature of any uniformly hot substance be
divided into any number of equal p„rts, the effect'; of those parts in
causing work to be performed are equal."'
To make this intelligible we may suppose that any quantity q ol
heat from a source at temperature tj is taken by the first of a
series of perfect heat-engines, aijd that this engine rejects heat
at a temperature tj less than tj by a certain interval At. Let
the heat so rejected by the first engine form the heat supply of a
second perfect engine woikrng from t, to T3 through an equal inter-
val At ; let the heat which it in turn rejects form the heat-supply
of a third perfect engine working again through an equal interval
from Tj to T4 ; and so on. The efficiencies of the se-'eral engines
are (by § 46) — . — , — , &c. The amounts of heat supplied to
T, Tj T3 "^
them are ff, jl? , q'S , 4c. Hence the amount of work done b?
Ti Tj '
each engine is the same, namely, 3— . Thus Rankine's statement
T,
is to be understood as meaning that each of the equal intervals
into which any range of temperature may be divided is equaUy
effective in allowing work to be produced from heat when heat is
made to pass, doing work in the most efficient possible way, through I
all the inteivals from the top to the bottom of the range. " I
49. A point of much theoretical interest may be noted in pass- Thennil
ing. In place of measuring temperature, as we have done, by the dybanr
expansion of a perfect gas, a scale of temperature might be formed absolut
thus. Starting from any one temperature, let a series ot intervals measur
be taken such that a series of reversible engines, each working ment 0
with one of the intervals for its range, in the manner described in temper
§ 48 (so that the heat rejected by the first forms the supply of the tore,
second, and so on), will each do the same amount of work ; then
call these intervals equal. This gives a scale of temperature (origin-
ally suggested by Sir W. Thomson) which is truly absolute in tlie
sense of being independent of the properties of any substance ; it
coincides, as is evident from § 48, with the scale we have been
using, in which equal intervals of temperature are defined as those
corresponding to equal amounts of expansion of a perfect gas under
constant pressure ; and it coincides approximately with the scale
of a mercury thermometer when that is graduated to read from the
absolute zero by the addition of a suitable constant (§ 29).
60. The availability of heat for transformation into work Condi
depends essentially on the range of temperature through which the ''o»? <>■
heat is let down from the hot source to the cold body into which """'''
heat is rejected ; it is only in virtue of a difference of temperature effi-
between bodies that conversion of any part of their heat into work eieucy
becomes possible. If tj and t, are the highest and lowest tem-
peratures of the range through which a heat-engine works, it is
clear that the maximum of efficiency can be reached only when
the engine takes in all its heat at tj and rejects at t, all that is
rejected. With respect to every portion of heat taken in and rejected
the greatest ideal efficiency is
Temperature of reception — temperature of rejection
Temperature of reception
Any heat taken in at a temperature below t, or rejected at a
temperature above t, will have less availability for conversion into
work than if taken in at Tj and rejected at 7-;, and hence, witK a given
pair of limiting temjieratures, it is essential to maximum efficiency
that no heat be taken in by the engine except at the top of the
range, and no heat rejected except at the bottom of the range.
Further, as we have seen in § 45, when the temperatures at which
heat is received and rejected are assigned, an engine attains the
maximum of efficiency if it be reversible,
51. It is therefore important to inquire more particularly what
kinds of action are reversible in the thermodynamic sense. A little
consideration will show that a transfer of heat from the source or to
the receiver is reversible only when the working substance is at
sensibly the same temperature as the source or the receiver, as the
case may be, and an expansion is reversible only when it occurs by
the gradual displacement of some part of the containing envelope in
such a manner that the expanding fluid does external work on the
envelope, and does not waste energy to any sensible extent in setting
itself in motion. This excludes what may be termed free expansion,
* Manual 0/ the Steam Engine and other Prime iiov^n^ 3 243.
HBAT-ENOINES.]
TEA M-E N G I N E
483
I ,. t1„t of the eas in Joule's experimeut, § 33, and it excludes
n/ruHftlTe fluid were allowed to expaud into a closed chamber in
whTch he prepare wns less than that of the fluid, or >f tho P.ston
Tn a cylinder rose so fast as t. ca«se, through the inertia of tlieex-
naudlnffliUd, local variations of pressure throughou the cylmaer
'^ To make a heat-engine, working within given limits <>/ tempera-
tnre M efficient as possible we must therefore strive-(l) to take
In no heat except at the highest temperature, and to reject no
hearexcept at the lowest temperature; (2) to secure that the
^oAing substance shall, when ^ceivingheat, beat the temperatare
If the body from which the heat comes, and that it shall, when
riving up heat, be at the temperature of the body to wh.ch_ heat is
riven up ■ (3) io avoid free or imperfectlyresisted expansion. If
fhese conditions are fulfilled the engine is a V^rkctho.Vengme
The first and second of these conditions are satisfied if m the
action o the engine the working substance changes its tempera,
ture from tV to t° by adiabatic expansion, and from r, to tj by
adiabatk compression, thereby being enabled to take in and
r"eat at tlie ends' of the range without taking m or rejecting
anv bv the way. This is the action in Carnot s engine (§40). _
52 But if /e can cause the working substance to deposit heatin
some body within the engine while passing from t, to r, ."> sucn a
manner that the transfer of heat from the subs^nce to this body is
reversible (satisfying the second condition above), then when we wish
L working substance to pass from r, to r, we may reverse this
transfer and so recover the heat that was deposited in this body
This alternate storing and restoring of heat may then take the
«)lac« of adiabatic expansion and compression, in causing tlie tem-
perature of the working substance to pass from t, to t„ and Irom
T, to n respectively. The alternate storing and res.oring is an
action occurring wholly within the engine, and is therefore distiuet
from the taking in and rejecting of heat by the engine.
I- 53 In 1827 Robert Stirling designed an apparatus, callert ar«-
^oeneraior, by which this process of alternate storing and restoring
of heat could be actually performed. Eor the present purpose it will
'fiuffice to describe the regenerator as a passage through which tbe
workin" fluid can travel in either direafion, whose walls have a
• very lar^e capacity for heat, so that tbe amount alternately given to
ortaken°from them by the working fluid causes no more than an
insensible rise or fall in their temperature. The temperature of the
walls at one end of the passage is t„ and this tapers continuously
dowu to T„ at the other end. When the working fluid at tempera-
ture T, enters the hot end and passes through, it comes out at the
cold end at temperature t„, having stored m the walls cf the
regenerator an amount of teat which it will pick up again when
p^sed through in the opposite direction. Dunng the return journey
its temperature rises from t, to t,. The process is strictly reversible, ,
or rather would be so if the regenerator Jiad an unlimited capacity
for heat, if no conduction of heat took place along its walls from
the hoi to the cold end, and if no loss took place by conduction or
radiation from its external surface.
54. Using air as the working substance, and employing his
.rogeneratorT Stirling made -an engine (to be described later)
'which, alloWing for practicJ imperfections, is the earliest example
of a truly reversible engii e. The cycle of operations in Stirling s
engine is substantially thji : — . ^.-l i 4i .
(1) Air (which has been heated to ti by passing through the
regenerator) is allowed to expand isothermalfy through a ratio /,
taking in heat from a furnace and raising a piston. Heat taken
in (per lb of air)- CTi log ,r. . ^ _ ,i „
(2) The air is caused to pass through the regenerator from the
hot to the cold end, depositing heat and having its temperature
lowered to To, without change of volume. Heat stored lu
regenerator -KVCtj-tj). The pressure of course falls. __
(3) The air is then compressed isothermally to its original
volume at t„ in contact with a refrigerator (or receiver of heat).
Heat rejected -CT.. log <r.
(4) The air is again passed through the regenerator from tlie
cold to the hot end, taking up heat and having
its temperature raised to t,. Heat restored by
the regenerator = Ky(Tj - t,).
CTilog^r-CTjlog,}* n - Ta .
E'«"'°=x-- - cT^iog-;; ^
The indicator diagram of the action is shown
in fig. 13, and a diagram of the engine is given
in chap. XIV. Stirling's engine is important,
not as a present-day heat-engine (though it
has recently been revived in small forms after
a long interval of disuse), but because it is
typical of the only mode, other than Cariml's
dan of adiabatic expansion and coinpression,^^^ jj_^_. g_^^,_^^ ^1^,^
jy which the action of a heat-engino can De ncgcncrator (SUiilng).
made reversible. Valuable as the regenerator _
has proved in metallurgy and other industrial processes, its actual
application to heat-engines has hitherto been very limited. An-
other way of using it iu aii-eiigines was designed by Ericsson, and
attempts have been made by C. W. Siemens and F. Jenkin to apply
it to steam-engines and to gas-engines. But almost all actual
engines, in so lar as they can be said to approach the condition of
reversibility, do bo. not by the use of the regenerative principle,
but by more or less nearly adiabatic expansion and compression
after the manner of Carnot's ideal engine.
I
III. Properties of Steam and Theory' op Tas;
Steam-Engike.
55. "We have now to consider the action of heat-engines ir
which the \sorking substance is water and water-vapour oi
steam. The properties of steam are most conveniently stated by
referring in the first instance to what happens when steam is
formed under constant pressure. This is substantially the process
which occurs in the boiler of a steam-engine when the engine is
at work. To fix the ideas we may suppose that the vessel in which
steam is to be formed is a long upright cylinder fitted with a
piston which may be loaded so that it exerts a constant pressure
on the fluid below. Let there be, to begin with, at the foot of the
cylinder a quantity of water (which for convenience of numerical
statement we shall take as 1 lb), at any temperature (, ; and let
the piston press on the surface of the water with a force of
P lb per square foot. Let heat now be applied to the bottom
of the cylinder. As it enters the water it will produce the follow-
ing effects in three stages ;—
(1) The temperature of the water rises until a certain tempera-
ture t is reached, at which steam begins to be formed. The value
of I depends on the particular pressure P which the piston exerts.
Until the temperature t is reached there is nothing but water below
the piston. . y mv ■ •.
(2) Steam is formed, more heat being taken lui The pistcn
(which is supposed to exert a constant pressure) nses. No
further increase of temperature occurs during this stage, which
continues until all the water is converted into steam. ■ During
this stage the steam which is foriued is said to ha saturated.
The volume which the piston encloses at the end of this stage,—
the volume, namely, of 1 lb of saturated steam at pressure P (and
temperature <),— will be denoted by V in cubic feet.
(3) If after all the water is converted into steam more heat be
allowed to enter, the volume will increase and the temperature
will rise! The steam is then said to be superheated.
66 The difference between saturated and superheated steam Satimitert
maybe expressed by saying that if water (at the temperature ofandsui-"-
the steam) be mixed with steam some of the water will be evaporated lieateJ
if the steam is superheated, but none if the steam is saturated, steam
Any vapour in contact witli its liquid and in thermal equilibrium
is necessarily saturated. When saturated its properties differ con-
siderably, as a rule, from those of a perfect gas, but when super-
heated they approach those of a peffect gas more and more closely
the farther the process of superheating is carried, that is to say, the
more the temperature is raised above t, the temperature of saturation
corresponding to the given pressure P. ij„i.,:„„
57 The temperature I at which steam is formed depends on the Relation
value of P. Their relation was determined with great care by ol pres-
Rcgnault, in' a series of classical experiments on which o"r s."" »"■'
knowledge of the properties of steam chiefly depends.' The tempera-
pressure of saturated steam rises with the temperature at a rate t"™ "J
which increases rapidly in the upper regions ot Uie scale This salnrRlert
will be apparent from the first and second columns of Table 11., »teani.
given on next page, which is compiled from liankine's rcductiou
of RcTuault's results. The first column givoa the temperature on
the Fahr. scale; the second gives the coiTcsponding uressuro in
pounds per square inch. Eankino has also expressed the relation
of temiJCrature and pressure in saturated steam by the foUowiUK
formula (which is applicable with other consUnta to other va-
''°""*^~ , „,„„, 2732 396945
. logi) = 6'1007 -— ;,-
where p is the pressure in pounds per square inch," and t is tht
absolute temperature in Fahr. degrees.. For most purposes, how-
ever, it is more convenient to find the pressure corresponding to a
given temperature, or the temiwraturo corresponding to a given
pressure, from the table by interpolation. , . , » „„„„„;„,i
58. The same table shows the volume V, m cubic foot, occnpiod
by 1 lb of saturated steam nt each pressure This is a quanli^
the direct experimental measurement of which « of very great
difficulty, n may, however, bo calculated from »\n''"'''<i.K«, "
other properties of steam, by « process which will be de^ »"J
later (§ 75 . Tho values of V given in the t.al.l9 were dotennined
by Hankino by means of this process; they agree fairly »' ' «^''»
such direct observations of the density of steam as have been lutJierto
fonnd In niinn'» TrtalUc on Ural. «>-<,, n IJ7
' mi. ihi'j., I>>c. Isr,l, (ir ituniial of Ihi Slenm-Engut, ^ m.
484
STEAM-ENGINE
made.' The relation of P to V may bo aprroximately expressed by
the formula' , , '■ '
P^'" = constant = 68500 (iiearW),
Iwhen P is stated ia ft per sq. ft. and V in cub.'ft. per lb.
Table II. — ProjKrties of Saturated Steam.
[PEOPEETIES
Temperature
De^eea F,
32
41
50
59
68
77
86
95
104
113
122
131
140
149
168
167
17«
185
194
203
212
221
230
239
248
257
266
275
284
293
302
311
320
329
338
347
356
365
374
383
392
401
410
419
428
Pressure.
(Supply
>t heat
in forma'
tton of
steam .
onderl
constant
pressure.
tb per eq. In.
0-0S5
0-122
0-173
0-241
0-333
0-452
0-607
0-806
1-06
1-38
1-78
2-27
2-88
3-62
4-61
5-58
6-87
8-38
10-16
12-26
14 -70
17-53
20-80
24-54
28-83
33-71
39-25
45-49
62-62
60-40
69-21
79-03
89 -se
101-9
115-1
129-8
145-8
163-3
182-4
203-3
225-9
250-3
276-9
305-5
336-3
Volnme
of 1 lb.
Cub. Ft.
3390
2406
1732
1264
935
699
529
405
313
244
192
152-4
122-0
98-45
80-02
65-47
53-92
44-70
37-26
31-26
26-36
22-34
19 03
16-28
14-00
12-09
10-48
9-124
7-973
6-992
' 6-153
5-433
4-816
'4-280
13-814
3-410
3-057
2-748
2-476
2-236
2-025
1 -838
1-672
1-525
1-393
Heat of Foiination.
Therninl Units,
Therninl Units
1091-8
0
1094-5
9 0
1097-3
18-0
1100-0
27-0
1102-8
360
1105-5
45-0
1108-2
54-0
1111-0
63-0
1113-7
72-0
1110-5
Sl-0
1119-2
90-1
1121-9
99-1
1124-7
108-1
1127-4
117-1
1130-2
126-2
1132-9
135-2
1135-6
144-3
1138-4
153-3
1141-1
162-4
1143-9
171-4
1146-6
180-5
1149-3
189-6
1152-1
198-7
1154-8
207-8
1157-6
216-9
1160-3
226-0
1163-1
235-2
1106-8
244-3
1168-6
253-5
1171-3
2627.
1174-1
27 1 -a-
1176-8
281-1
1179-5
290-3
1182-2
299-5
1185-0
308-7
1187-7
318-0
1190-4
327-3
1193-2
336-6
1195-9
345-9
1198-6
852-2
1201-4
364-5
1204-1
373-9
1206-9
383-2
1209-6
392-6
1212-4
402-0
59. We have next to consider the supply of heat During the
first stage, until the tamperature rises from its initial value („ to t
■ the temperature at whiclj steam begins to form under the given
pressure, heat is required only to warm the water. Since the
speciBc heat of water is nearly constant, the amount of heat taken
in during the first stage is approximately t - 1„ thermal units or
J(«-^o) foot-pounds, J being Joule's equivalent (§ 23), and this
, expression for it will generally serve with sufficient accuracy in
practical calculations. Wore exactly, however, the heat taken in
13 somewhat greater than this, for Kegnault's experiments show
that the specific heat of water increases slightly as the temperature
rises. In stating the amount of heat required for this first sta^e,
<o must be taken as a known temperature; for convenience °iu
numerical statement the temperature 32° F. is usually chosen as
an arbitrary starting-point from which the reception of heat is to
be reckoned. We shall employ the symbol h to designate the heat
required to raise 1 ft of water from 32" F. to the temperature t at
which steam begins to form. The value of h in thermal units is
given, approximately, by the equation
h=t-32.
More exact values, which take account of the variation in' the
specific heat of water, will be found in the last column of Table
II. Durmg the first st^ge, sensibly all the heat supplied goes to
increase the stock of internal energy which the fluid possesses, the
amount of external work which is done by the expansion of the fluid
being negligible.
60. The heat taken in during the second stage is what is called
the latent heat of steam, and is denoted by L. Of it a part is spent
/>*.-f TV™!"; ™i , d."! nm " °° '"^ '^""'^ "' ^''^^ " O'"^''™' Temperatorea,"
»,Thlsl3RaiiklBe'B(oimn)a. Zenner gives PV'-»«"=(»«etantL
in doing external work,— namely, P multipMci by the excess of the
volume of ihe steam over the volume of the water,— and the
remainder is the difference of internal energy between 1 ft of steam
at t and 1 ft of water at t. The volume of 1 ft of water, at such
temperatures as are usual in steam-engines, is nearly 0-017 cubic
feet. We may therefore write tlie external work (in foot-pounds)
done during the production of 1 ft of steam under constant
pressure P, —
External work = P(V-0-017).
61. Adding together the heat taken in during the first and second
stages we have a quantity designated by H and called the total heat
of 1 ft of saturated steam: —
H-A-i-L.
Kegnault's values of H are very accurately expressed (in thermal
units) by the formula
H = 1082-H0-305<.
They are given in the fourth column of Table II. A similar for-
mula gives approximate values of L, exact enough for use in prac<
tical calculations, —
L-ni4-0-7<.
The total heat of formation of 1 ft of steam, when formed'nnder
constant pressure from water at any temperature <„, is of course
H - h„, where h„ corresponds to <„.
_ 62. Of the whole latent heat of steam, L, the part P(Y-0-017) Inteo
is, as has been said above, spent in doing external work. - The energ-
remainder (in foot-pounds) —
JL-P(V-0-017)—
is the change of internal energy which the substance nnder-'oeS
during evaporation. This nuautity, for which it is convenientto
have a separate symbol, will be denoted by p in thermal units, oi
Jp m foot-pounds. In dealing with the heat required to producf
steam we adopted the state of water at 32° F. as an arbitrary sUrt-"
ing-point from which to reckon the reception of heat. In tha
same way it is convenient to use this arbitrary starKng-point in
reckoning what may be called the mlcrnal energy of the substance
which IS the excess of the heat taken in over the external work dona
by the substance during its reception of heat. Thus the internal
energy I of 1 ft of saturated steam at pressure P is equal to the total
heat H less that part of the total heat which is spent in doing
external work, or (in foot-pounds)
JI = JH-P(V-0-017),
°" I = L + A>rP(V-0-017)/J-A-(-p. ,
The notion of internal energy is useful in calculating the heaf
taken in or rejected by steam during any stage of its expansion or
compression in an engine. When a working substance passes from
one condition to another, its gain or loss of heat is determined by
the equation ^
Heat taken in = increase of internal energy -f external work.
Any of the terms of this equation may be negative ; the last term
IS negative when work is done, not by, but npon the substance
63. The same equation gives the means of fiuding the amount Heat o
0 lieat required to form steam under any assigned conditions, in formati
place of the condition assumed at the beginning of this chapter, under a
where the formation of steam under constant pressure was con- condi-
sidered. Whatever be the condition as to pressure under which tions
the process of formation is carried on, the total beat required is
the sum of the internal energy of the steam when formed and
the work done by the substauce during the process. . Thus in
general
Heat of formation =■ I -(- J " '/"PdV,
the limits of integration being the final volume of the steam and
the original volume of the water. . When steam is formed in a
closed vessel of constant volume no external work is done ; the heat
of formation is then equal to the internal energy, and is less than
the total heat of formation (H) of steam, when formed at a constant
pressure eqjial to the pressure reached in the vessel, by the quanMty
64. In calculations which relate to the action of steam in engines
we have generaUy to deal, not with dry saturated steam, but ivith
wet steam, or steam which either carries in suspension, or ia
otherwise mixed with, a greater or less proportion of water. In
every such mixture the steam and water have the same temperature
and the steam is saturated. The dryness of wet steam is measured
by the proportion q of dry steam in each pound of the mixed
substance. When that is known it is easy to determine the other
physical constants : thus —
Latent heat of 1 ft of wet steam -»gij;
Total heat of 1 ft of wet steam -=A-f jL; '
Tokime of 1 ft of wet steam, — y'V-(-(l -■j)0-017.
— <?V very nearly,
unless the steam is so wet as to consist mainly of water •
Internal energy of 1 ft of wet steam - A -(- qp. '
65. Steam is superheated when its temperature is raised, in any
manner, above the temperature corresponding to saturation at the
.actual press-are. . When much superheated, stfam behaTOS like a<
STEAM-ENGINE
07 BIEiv'l.J
■perfect gas, and may be called "sfeain gas." It then follows the
equation TV -85 'St,
and tlie specific beat at constant pressure, K^, is 371 foot-pounds or
0-48 thermal unit. At very low temperatures steam approximates
dosely to tho condition of a perfect gas when very slightly super-
lieated, and even when saturated ; at high temperatures a much
greater amount of superheating is necessary to bring about an
approach to tho perfectiv gaseous state. The total heat_requircd for
tBe production of superheated steam under any constant pressure,
when the superheating is sufficient to bring the steam to the state
of steam gas, may therefore be reckoned by taking the total heat of
saturated steam at a low temperature and adding to it tho product
of K, into tho excess of temperature above that. Thus Raukino
(resting saturated steam at 32° F. as a gas, gives the formula
H'-1092-(-0-48(i'-32)
to express the heat ot formation (under any constant pressure) of
superheated steam, at any temperature t which is so much above
the temperature of saturation corresponding to the actual pressure
that the steam may be treated as a perfect gas. Calculated from
its chemical composition, the density of steam gas should be 0-622
times that of air at the same pressure and temperature. The value
of y or Ky/K, for steam gas is 1 3. These formulas, dealing ns they
do with steam which is so highly superheated as to be perfectly
gaseous, fail to apply to high -pressure steam that is heated but
little above its temperature of saturation. The relation of pressure
to volume and temperature in the region which lies between the
saturated and the perfectly gaseous states has been experimented
on by Him.' Formulas which are applicable with more or less
nceuracy to steam in either the saturated or superheated condition
have been devised by Hirn, Zeuner,^ Ritter,' and others.
66. The expansion of volume which occurs during the conversion
of water into steam under constant pressure— the second stage of
the process described in § 55— is isothermal. From what has been
already said it is obvious that steam, or any other saturated vapour,
can be expanded or compressed isothermally only when wet, and
that evaporation (in the one case) or condensation (in the other)
must accompany the process. Isothermal lines for a working sub-
stance which consists of a liquid and its vapour are straight lines
of uniform pressure.
67. The form of adiabatic lines for substances of the same class
depends not only on the particular fluid, but also on the propor-
tion of liquid to vapour in the mixture. In the case of steam, it
has been shown by Rankino and Clausius that if steam initially
dry be allowed to expand adiabatically it becomes wet, and if
initially wet (unless very wet*) it becomes wetter. A part of the
eteam i? condensed by the process of adiabatic expansion, at first
in the form of minute particles suspended throughout the mass.
Tlie temperature' and pressure fall ; and, as that part of the sub-
stance which remains uncondensed is saturated, the relation of
Kreasure to temperature throughout the expansion is that which
olds for saturated steam. The following formula, proved by
Rankino' and Clausius' (see § 75), serres to calculate the extent
to which condensation takes place during adiabatic expansion, and
so allows the relation of pressure to volume to bo determined.
Before expansion, let the initial dryness of the steam be q^ and
ita absolute temperature t,. Then, if it expand adiabatically until
its temperature falls to r, its dryness after expansion is
485
5-EpiT^-'°«'?)'
L, and L are the lat»nt licats (in thermal units) of 1 lb of steam
before and after expansion respectively. When the steam is dry to
begin with, Ji — l.
This formula is easily applied tothe construction of the adiabatic
curve when the initial pressure and. the pressure after expansion are
given, tho corresponding values t and L being found from the table.
It is less convenient if the data are the initial pressure and the
initial and final volumes, or tho initial pressure and tho ratio of
expansion r. An approximate formula more appropriate ill that
case is
P»"— constant, or P/P, — (v/t!,)" — r" .
Here ti and v^ denote tho volume of 1 lb of the mixture of eteam
and water before and after expansion respectively, and are to bo
distinguisJied from V and V,, which we havo already used to
denote tho volumo of 1 lb of dry .saturated steam at pressures P
and P,. Tho index n has a value which depends on tho degree of
initial dryness g^.
, » Th^orie Micanique de la Chalrvr.
^9 Ztschr. d. Verein) deutichev Ingcnieurc, vol. xl.
• ITtrd. Ann., 1878. For a discussion of several of these fominlBs, ^co a paper
\iy II. Pyor, Tram. Jnit. of Engxnctis and fi/iipbutlden in Scotland, 1885.
« rrof. Cottcrlll, in Ms Trealiie on the Slcam-Engine, } 79, hu calculated
(oslnR the equation which follows In the text) thut, when a mixture of steam and
water exjands adiabatically, steam condenses if the jiroportlon of steam be. roughly,
over 50 per cent^ but water Is evaporated If tho pioportlon of steam bo less thau
^bout 60 per cent Tho cxoct proportion depends ou tho Initial pressure.
» Stmm-Entiine, % 581.
■ iltthnnical Theory of Iltat (tr. by W. It. Browne), clinp. vL J IJ.
According to Zeuner,' n--10S5-(-0-lj„ so that for
g,-l 095 0-9 085 08 075 07
)i-1135 1-130 1-125 1120 1-115 1-110 1-105
Rankine pave for this index the value V. which is too smalVil
tho steam be initially dry. He determined it by examining the
expansion curves of indicator diagrams taken from working stAOl
engines ; but, as we shall see later, the expansion of steam in ail
actual engine is by no means adiabatic, on account of the transfer
of heat which goes on between the working fluid and the metal
of the cylinder and piston. ^Vhen it is desired to draw an
adiabatic curve for steam, that value of n must be chosen whicii
refers to the degree of dryness at the beginning of tho expansion.
68. We are now in a position to study the action of a heat-engine
employing steam as the working substance. To simplify the first
consideration as far as possible, let it be supposed that we have, aa
before, a long cylinder composed of non-conducting material except
at the base, and fitted with a non-conducting piston ; also a source of
heat A at some temperature tj ; a receiver of beat, or, as we may now"
call it, a condenser C, at a lower temperature Tj.; and a noncon-
ducting cover B (as in § 40). Then we can perform Carnot's cycle
of operations as follows. To fix the ideas, suppose that there is 1 lb
of water in the cylinder to begin with, at the temperature Ti'-—
(1) Apply A, and allow the piston to rise. The water will take
in heat and be converted into steam, expanding isothermally at
constant pressure Pj. This part of the operatioS
is shown by the line ah in fig. 14.
(2) Remove A and apply B. Allow th< expan-
sion to continue adiabatically (tc), with falling
pi-cssure, until the temperature falls to t^
Tho pressure will then be P,, corresponding
(in Table II.) tOTj-
(3) Remove B, apply C,
and compress. Steam is
condensed by rejecting heat
to 0. Tho action .is iso-
thermal, and the pressure
remains Pj. Let this be
continued until a certain
point d is reached, after
■Carnofs Cycle with water and (^.jjich adiabatic compression
im for woiking substance. >viin,ii<iui<i..ui. t"
•vnW complete the cycle.
(4) Remove C and apply B. Continue the compression, whicli
is now adiabatic. If the point d- has been rightly chosen, this
•will complete the cycle by restoring the working fiuid to the state
of water at temperature tj. , , , ,
The indicator diagram for the cycle is given m fig. 14, as cal-
culated by the help of the equations in § 67 and of Table II. for a
particular example, in which y, = 90 lb per square inch (ti-781),
and the expansion is continued down to the pressure of the atmo-
sphere, 14-7 lb per square inch (tj-673). Since tho process is
reversible, and since heat is taken in. only at t, and rejected only
at T„, the efficiency is (t^ - Tj)/t.. The heat taken in per lb of thp
fluid" is Li, and the work done is Li (ti - t...)/ti, a result which may
be used to check the calculation of the diagram.
69. If the action here described could be realized in practice, ElBcietiej
\\e should have a thermodynamically perfect steam-engine using of a
saturated steam.' The fraction of tho heat supplied to it which p.rfect
such an engine would convert into work would depend simrfy on steam-
the temperature, and therefore on the pressure, i at ^rtllch tho cngiaa
steam was produced and condensed. The temperature of con- LimUs of
densation is limited by tho consideration that there must be an temp.'n(K
abundant supply of some s^ubstanco to absorb the rejected heat ; tui«.
water is actually used for this piirposn so that t, has for its
lower limit the temperature of tho available -water-supply.
To the higher temperature tj and pressure P, no limit can.be set
except such as is brought about in practice by the mechanical diffi-
culties, with regard to strength and to lubrication, which attend
the use of high-pressure steam. By a very special construction of
engine and boiler Mr Perkins has been able to use steam w}th a
pressure as high as 500 lb per square inch ; with engines of the
usual construction the value ranges from 190 lb downwards.
If tho temperature of condensation bo taken as 60° F., as a lower
limit, tho efficiency of a perfect steam-engine, using saturated steam,
would depend on the value of P„ the absoluto pre^ure of productiOA
of the steam, as follows : —
For perfect steam-engine, -with condensation at 60° F.,
in tt. per square incU being 40 80 120 160 200
Fig. 14
Many causes conspire 1
HigLstideaT'efiidenc7"'-'''-284 •3'28 -360 -868 -381
But it must not be supposed that these values ot tho Miciencyare
actually attained, or are even attainable. Mnnv causes conspire to
prevent
some I "
bers wil
ouj d,-r lied. Warm,thforU. } 37. In the adiabatic 7™P7»'™ "' '"
»=l-031-l-0 llj„ where j, Is tho dryness »t Uie bcglnnlnu of cooproslnn.
486
the performance of actual en^nes, and as setting forth the advan-
*3c« "I high -pressure steam from the thermodynamic pointof view
70. As a contrast to the ideally perfect steam-engine of § 68
we may next consider a cyclic action such as occurred in the earlv
engines of Newcomen or Leupold, when steam was used non-
expansively,— or rather, such an action as would have occurred in
engines of this type had the cylinder been a perfect non-conductor
ol heat. Let the cycle-of operations be this : —
. (1) Apply A and evaporate the water as before at P, Heat
taken in = Li. ''
(2) Remove A and apply C. This at once condenses a part of
the steam, and reduces the pressure to P„.
(3) Compress at P„, in contact with C, till
condensation is complete, and water at t^ is left
(4) Remove B and apply A. This heats the
water again to tj and completes the cycle.
Heat taken in = Aj - Ao.
The indicator diagram for this series of
operations is shown in fig. 15.
Here the action is not reversible,
have .,,. , ,
Work done (Pi-P^)(V, - O'Ol?)
J(L^-^Al
S T E A M-E N G I N E
[PKOPERTIES OP 8TEAM,
Fig. 15,
To calculate the efficiency, we
Kngine
with
separate
organs.
Heat taken in lil^ + h^-h^)
The values of this will be found to range from 0-06* to 0-072 for
the values of P which are stated in § 69, when the temperature
of condensation is 60 F.
71. In the ideal engine represented in fig, 14 the functions of
boiler, cylinder and condenser are combined in a single vessel; but
after what has been said in chap. II. it is scarcely necessary to re-
mark that, provided the working substance passes through the same
cycle of operations, it is indifferent whether these are performed in
several vessels or in one. .To approach a little more closely the
conditions that hold m practice, we may thinl: of the engine
which performs the cycle of § 70 as consisting of a boiler A (fig 16)
kept at Ti, a non-conducting cylin- v 6 ,/
der and piston B, a surface con-
denser C kept at Tj, and a feed-pump
D which restores the condensed
wat«r to the boiler. Then for every
pound of steam supplied and used
non -expansively as in § 70, we have
workdoneonthepiston =(Pj-P2)'V,;
but an amount of work has to be ex-
pended iudrivingthefeed
pump ={P,-Pj) 0-017.^ .
Deducting this, the net
work done per lb of steam
is the same as before, and
the heat taken in is also Fig. Ifi.— Organs o'f a Sieam-Engine.
the same. An indicator diagram taken from the .cylinder would
give the area ef,,k (fig. 17), where oe = P,, cf=Yi, oh=P,; an indi-
cator diagram taken from the pump would
give the negative area hjie, where ei is the «
■volume of the feed-water, or 0-017 cub. ft.
The difference, namely, the shaded area, is
the diagram of the complete cycle gone
.through by each pound of the working «
substance. In experimental measurements
of the work done in steam-engines, only Fig. ii.
the action which occurs --ithiu the cylinder .s shown on the indi-
cator diagram. From this the work spent on the feed-pump is to
bo subtracted in any accurate determination of the thermodynamic
emciency. If the feed- water is at anj' temperature t„ other than
that of the condenser as assumed in § 70, it. is clear that the heat
taken in is Hj - /(„ instead of Hj -h^.
-.Jnl Y-" ^.^"^ °°" '° inquire how nearly, with the engine of fi<r
16 (that IS to say, with an engine in which the boiler and condenser
are separate from the cylinder), we can approach the reversible
cycle of § 68. The first stage of that cycle corresponds to the
aumission of steam from the boiler into the cylinder. Then the
point known as the point of mt-off is reached, at which admis-
sion erases, and the steam already in the cylinder is allowed to
expand, e.xertmg a diminishing pressure on the pist»n. This is
the second stage, or tha stage of expansion. The process of
expansion may be carried on until the pressure faUs to that of the
condenser, in which case the expansion is said to be complete.
At the end of the expansion release takes place, that is to say com-
muuication is opened with the condenser. Then the return stroke
begins, and a period termed the exhaust occurs, that is to sav
Bteam passes out of the .cylinder, into the condenser, where it "is
condensed at pressure P^, which is felt as a back pressure opposing
the return of the piston. So far, all has been essentially reversible
and identical with the corresponding parts of Carnot's cycle
But we cannot complete the cycle as Carnot's cycle was com-
pleted Ihe e.xistence of a separate -condenser makes the fourth
stage, that_ of adiabatic compression, impracticable, and the best
•we can do js to continue the exhaust until condensation is com-
Pj«'^' and then return the condensed water to the boiler by means
of the feed-pump. ^
It is true that we may, and in actual practice do, stop the
exhaust before the .return stroke is complete, and compress that
portion of the steam which remains below the piston, but this
does not materially affect the thermodynamic efficiency ; it is
done partly for mechanical reasons, and partly to
avoid loss of power through clearance (see chap. IV.).
In the present instance it is supposed that there is
no clearance, in which case this compression is out
of the question. The indicator diagram given by a
cylinder in which steam goes through the action de-
scribed above is shown to scale in fig. 18 for a par-
ticular example, in which it is supposed that 1 cubic
foot of dry saturated steam
is admitted at an absolute
pressure of 90 lb per square
inch, and is expanded twelve
times, or down to a jiressure
of 5 4 tt> per square inch, at
which pressure it is dis-
As we hav-e assumed the cylinder to beTn'conduc'ting,''rnd"rhe
steam to be initially dry, the expansion follows the law PV'-"-'=
constant. The advantage of expansion is obvious, that part of the
diagrani which lies under the curve being so much clear kin.
(3. To calculate the efficiency, we have
"Work done per ft during admission = PiV, ;
PiY,-P,,.V,
n-l
Fio. 18.— IJcul Indicitor Diagram for Steam
used expansively.
Efl5cien<
of engin
working
expan-
sively.
• ' >i ^'"'ing expansion to volume rV,=
w V .1 .(l^y§36), = (P,V,-P„rV,)/0-135;
Work spent during return stroke = P„VV •
,, „ on thefeed-punlp-(P,-P„)o■017•
Heattakcnin=H,-A(,. ' s,'""^'.
74. These expressions refer to complete expansion. When the Tncom
JS.lTfJ^^" incomplete, as t generally is, the expression given pMe^,,
above for the work done during expansion still applies if we take ^^io^
f^n?. I' pressure at the end of expansion,' while the work ^
spen on the steam durmg the back-stroke is P.rV, and that spent
?^P.n 1 <■ "■''"'"P-" (.Pi-P')0-017. P» being the back pressure.
Incomplete ,expansion is illustrated by the dotted line in fig 18
tinnV* ^''^' ^^l^^ ^'i^ "' §§ "^^ ""'^ 6'' to "tend these calcula-
tions to cases where the steam, instead of. being initially dry is
supposed to have any assigned degree of wetness The efficiency
mav b„" "u'^^'^lf ?u this.^vay, which for the present purposi
may bo called the theoretical efficiency corresponding to the
assumed conditions of working, is always much less than the
Ideal efficiency of a perfect engine, since the cycle we are now
i'n .i"i > f if "f.r^??"?'"-. ^"* ""'"' this theoretical efficiency,
shoit as 1 falls of the ideal of a perfect engine, is far greater than
can be realized in practice when the same boilerand condenser tem-
peratures are used, and the same ratio of expansion. The reasons
lor this will be briel y considered in the next chapter; at present
the fact IS mentioned to guard the reader from supposing that the
resnilts which the above formulas give apply to actuil en|nes.
J/'J ■'"'^''}^ ?l § ^* ^'■''^ '^'^° t""<='l to account by Rankine Calcula-
and Clausius for the purpose of deducing the density of steam tim, of
ft-om other properties which admit of more exact direct measure- "yol
ment. Let the perfect steam-engine there described work through tatu^
and7 "Z '^iTi -^ temperature Ar between two temperature! x ^^^^
fi rr r f P efficiency is At/t, and the work done (in foot-lbs. )
is J lAt/t. 1 he indicator diagram is now reduced to a long narrow
strip, whose length is V - 0-017 and its breadth aP, the (fifference
in pressure between steam at temperatures t and t-At. Hence
the work done is also AP(V - 0-017), and therefore
Y-0-on^ih ^
T AP"
Here ^, or (in the limit) ^, is the rate of increase of tempera-
ture with increase of pressure in saturated steam at the particular
temperature t. It may be found roughly trom Table II., p. 484, or
more exactiv by differentiating the equation given in § 57. L is also
known, and hence the value of V corresponding to any assigned
temperature may be calculated with a degree of tccuracf which it
wouldbe difficu t to reach in direct experiment. The volumes
given m the Table are determined in this way.i
,hl li'^.^r " °' ^ " ""/ ^^ °PP"'* ■« '°"»ws to give tl;e fomrnla of J 67 for
the adiabatio expansion of wet steam. For brerity we may write V-O -OU-u
la ad.abat.c expansion the woik done is equal to the loaa of Semal energy, ot'
Pd(?ii)=— JiiI = -Jrf(A+jp).
Since dh = dr, and p = I-Pu/j, thu may be written J(*r-f Jd(jL)-jt<<fP=0 .
By 5 75, i«fP=— *•; hence 1+4- (?L)-?L =o-
and by integration,
logeT-^-JL/^=con3tant=logJT,-^o,Ll/Tl.
which is the equation of 5 07. ^^ itji i/n,
BTEAM ra CYLINDER.]
STEAIM -ENGINE
487
IV. AcTTJAL Behaviour of Steaji in tite CTLixDEn.
76 In fig. 18 we have what may be called a first approximation
to the theoretical Indicator diagram of a steam-engine. In the
action then described it was assumed— (1) that the Eteam supplied
was dry and saturated, and had during admission the full (unitormy
pressure of the boiler P; ; (2) thrtt there was no transfer of heat
to or from the steam except iu the boiler and in the condenser;
(3) that after more or less complete expansion all
the steam was discharged by the return stroke of •
the piston, during which the back pressure was
the (uniform) pressure in tho condenser Po ; (4)
that the whole volume of the cylinder was swept
through by the piston. It
remains to be seen how far
these assumptions are un-
true in practice, and how far
tlie efficiency is affected in
consequence.
The actual conditions of
FlO. 19.— Actual Indicator Diagram from a
Condensing Steam-Engine.
worTcing differ from these in the following main respects, some of
which are illustrated by the practical indicator diagram of hg. 19,
which is taken from an actual engine.
77. Owing to the resistance of the ports and passages, and. to
the inertia of the steam, the pressure within the cylinder is less
than P, during admission and greater than P; during exhaust.
Moreover P, and Pa are themselves not absolutely uniform, and
P, is greater than the pressure of steam at the temperature of the
condenser, on account of the presence of air in the condenser.
During admission the pressure of steam in the cylinder is less
than the boiler pressure by an amount which increases as the
piston advances, on account of the increased velocity of the piston s
motion and the consequent increased demand for steam_. When
the ports and passages offer much resistance the steam is expres-
sively said to be throttled or "wire-drawn." Wire-drawing of
steam is in fact a case of imperfectly-resisted expan.sion (§51). The
steam is dried by tlie process to a small extent, and if initially dry
it becomes superheated. In an indicator diagram wire-drawing
"auses the line of admission to lie below a line drawn at the
boiler pre-isure, and to slope downwards. In fairiy good practical
instances the mean absolute pressure during admission is about
nine-tenths of the pressure in the boiler.
In the same way, during the exhaust the actual back pressure
exceeds the pressure in the condenser (shown by a dotted line in
fig 19) by an .amount depending on the freedom with which the
eteam makes its exit from the cylinder. In condensing engines
with a good vacuum the actual back pressure is from 3 to 5 K)
per square inch, and in non-condensing engines it is 16 to 18 lb in
place of the mere 14 7 lb which is the pressure of -the atmosphere.
The excess of back pressure may be greatly increased by the pre-
sence of water in the cylinder. The eflects of wire-drawing do
tH)t stop here. The valves open and close more or less slowly;
the points of cut-off and release are therefore not absolutely sharp,
and the dia'Tam has rounded comers at b and c in place of the
Bliarp angles' which mark those events in fig. 18. For this reason
telea^e is allowed in practice to occur a little before the end of the
forward stroke, hence the toe of the diagram takes a form like that
shown in fi<'. 19. The sharpness of the cutoff, and to a less extent
the sharpness of the release, depends greatly on the kind of valves
'and valve-gear used ; valves of the Corliss typo (to be described
later), which arc noted for the suddenness with which admission of
steam' is stopped, have tho merit amongst others of producing a
Very sharply defined diagram.
78 When the piston is at cither end of- its stroke there is a
small space 'left between it and the cylinder cover. This space,
together with the volume of the piss.ige or passages lending thence
to the steam and exhaust valves, is called the clearance. , It con-
stitutes a volume through which the piston does not sweep, but
which is nevertheless filled with steam when admission occurs,
and the steam in tho clearance forms a part of
the whole steam which expands after tho supply
from tho boiler is cut-off. If AC bo the volume
swept through by the piston up to re-
lease, OA the volume of tho clearance,
and AB tho volume swept through
during admission, the apparent ratio
of expansion is AC/AB, but tho real
1 : • ratio is (OA-hAC)/(OA + AB).
— ^ i Clearance must obviously bo taken
F.o. SO.-ElIeot o( Clcanmco. «"»"''* "f*" any calculation of curves
of expansion. It is copvcniently al-
lowed for in indicator diagrams by shifting the line of no volume
hack through a distance corresponding to the clearance (fig. 20).
In actu.al engines OA is from ^ to j}, of the volume of the cjdinder.
79. Clearanco affects the thermodynamic cfiiciency of the engine
chiefly by altering the consumption of steam per stroke, and its
inilueDCO depends materiali; on tho compression (§ 72). If durmg
the back stroke the process of exhaust is discontinued before the end,
and the remaining steam is compressed, this cushion of steam will
finally fill the volume of the clearance ; and by a proper selecti":: of
the point at which compression begins the pressure of 'be cushion
may be made to rise just up to the pressure at which steam is
admitted when the valve opens. This may be called completo
compression, and when it occurs the existence of clearance has no
direct effeot on the consumption of steam nor on the efficiency ;
the whole fluid in the cylinder may then be thought of as consisting
of two part's,— a permanent cushion which is alternately expanded
and compressed without net gain or loss of work, and the working
part proper, which on admission fills the volume AB (fig. 20), and
which enters and leaves the cylinder in each stroke. But if com-
pression be incomplete or absent there is, on the opening of the
admission valve, an inrush of steam to fill up the clearance space.
This increases the consumption to an extent which is only partly
counterbalanced by the increased area of the diagram, and the
result is that the efficiency is reduced. The action is, in fact, a
case of unresisted expansion (§ 51), and consequently tends, so far
as its direct effects go, to make the engine less than ever reversible.
It is to be noted, however, that by such unresisted expansion the
entering steam is dried to some extent, and this helps in a measure
to counteract the cause of loss which will be described below.
Compression has the mechanical advantage that it obviates the
shock which the admission of steam would otherwise cause, and
that by giving the piston work to do while its velocity is being
rapidly reduced it reduces those stresses in the mechanism which
are due to the inertia of the reciprocating parte.
80. The third and generally by far the most important element InflneDct
of difference between tho action of a real engine and that of onr of
hypothetical engine is that, alluded to at the end of chap. I., the cylinder
difference which proceeds from the fact that the cylinder and piston walls.
are not non-conductors. As the steam fluctuates in temperature
there is a complex give-and-take of heat between it and the metal
it touches, and the effects of this, though not very conspicuous on
the indicator diagram, have an enormous influence in reducing the
efficiency by increasing the consumption of steam. Attention was
drawn to this action by Mr D. K. Clark as eariy as 1855 {Raihcay
Machinery, or art. Steam-Engine, Snctj. Brit., 8th edition'), and
the results of his experiments on locomotives were confirmed some
years later by Mr Isherwo<jd's trials of thb engines of the United
States steamer " Michigan. ' Eankine in his classical work on the
steam-engine notices the subiect only very briefly, ard_ takes no
account of the action of the cylinder walls in his calculations Its
importance has now been established beyond dispute, notably by
the experiments of Messrs Loring and Emery on the engines of
certain revenue steamers of the United States,^ and by a protracted
series of investigations carried out by M. Hallauer and other
Alsatian eno-ineers under the direction of Him,' whose name should
be specially associated with the rational analysis of engine tests.
In the next chapter some accoimt will be given of how steam-
engines are experimentally examined and how (following Hirn) we
may deduce the exchanges of heat which occur between the steam
and the cylinder throughout the stroke. The following is, in gene-
ral terms, what experiments with actnal engines show to take place.
81. When steam is admitted at the beginning of tho stroke, it Initial
finds tho metallic surfaces of tho cylinder and piston dulled by condea-
bavin" been in contact with low-pressure steam during the exhaust s.ition.
of theVevious stroke. A portion of it is therefore liquefied, and,
as the piston advances, more and more of the chilled cylinder
surface is exposed .and more and more of the hot steam is con-
densed. At the end of the admission, when communication with
the boiler is cut off, tho cylinder consequently contains a film ot
water spread over tho exposed surface, in addition to saturated
steam. Tho boiler has therefore been drawn upon for a supply
cieater than that corresponding to the volume of steam iii th»
i.lmission space. The importance of this will be obvious from the
fact, demonstrated by experiment, that the steam which is thiis
condensed during admission frequently amounts to 30 and even jO
per cent, of the whole quantity that comes over from the boiler.
82. Then, as expansion begins, mora cold metal is uncovereil,
and some of the remaining steam is condensed upon it. Hut the
pressure of the steam now falls, and tho layer of water which lias
been previously deposited begins to be re-evaporated as soon as tho
temperature of the expanding steam falls below that of tho liquid
layer. On the whole, then, the amount of water present mil
increase during tho eariiest part of tho expansion, but a stage
will soon be reached when the condensation which occurs on the
newly exposed metal is balanced by re-evaporalion of older portions
of the layer. Tho percentage of water present is then a maximum ;
and from this point onwards the steam becomes more and more
driecl by re-evaporation of the layer. . , , n »i •.
-~ If the amount of initial condensation lias been small tJin
83.
. Qir,.
1 Sec Bl.io Kin. Prm. Intl. C.K., vnl. Ixiil. V- -, ^^ , . , .,,*„«^
« A useful utstrnct of Men, I.orInK |>™l "'■"'^7." "J^,i'l,?rt« Cma''^-^
^'b."J^&c /rjL".\i<ri-.«o««, from 18;7. Forotbcrnrfo.»n«^«.cl»p. V.
488
STEA]\r -ENGINE
sxpan-
aion.
Effect of
jacktt.
re-evaporation may bo complete beforo rclense occurs. Vciy
usually, however, tliere is still an unaried layer at the end of tlio
forward stroke, and tlio process of re-evaporation continues durin^^
the return stroke, while exhaust is taking place. Ij extreni'o
cases, it the amount of initial condensation has been very great,
the cylinder walls niay fail to become quite dry even during tlio
exhaust, and a residue of the layer of condeuseil water may either
be carried over as water into the condenser, or, if tho exhaust
valves are so badly arranged as to prevent its discharge, thii
iinevaporatcd residue may gatlier in the cylinder, requiring pcrliaps
tho drain-cocks to bo left open to allow of its escape. When any
water is retaincl in this way the initial condensation is enormously
increased, for the hot steam then meets not only cold metal but
■♦ cnld water. Tlio latter causes much condensation, partly because
of its high specific heat, and partly because it is brought into
intimate mixture with the entering steam.
84. Apart, however, from this extreme case, whatever -water is
re-evaporated during expansion and exhaust takes heat from the
metal of the cylinder, and so brings it into a state that makes con-
densation inevitable when steam is next admitted from the boiler.
Were contact with low-pressuro steam during the exhaust stroke
would cool the metal but little ; tho cooling which actually occurs
is due mainly to the re-evaporation of the condensed water. Thus
if an engine were set in action, after being heated beforehand to
the boiler temperature, the cylinder would be only slightly cooled
during the first exhaust stroke, and little condensation would
occur during the next admission. But the metal would bo more
cooled in tho subsequent expansion and exhaust, since it would
part with heat in re-evaporating this water. In the third admission
more still would be condensed, and so on, until a permanent
regime would be established in which condensation and re-evapora-
tion were exactly balanced. The same permanent regime is reached
when the engine starts cold.
Wetness 85. Tho wetness of the working fluid to which tho action of
of steam the walls of tho cylinder gives rise is essentially superficial. A
duriDg film of water forms on the walls, but except for this tho boily
of the steam remains dry, until (by adiabatio or nearly adiabatic
expansion) it becomes wet throughout its volume. Tho water
formed by the act of expansion takes form as a mist diffused
throughout the steam, and on it the sides of the cylinder e.xcrt
practically no influence. This latter wetness is in fact increasing
while tlie substance, as a whole, is getting dried by the re-evapor.a°
tion of the liquid film. During expansion the working substance
may be regarded as made up of two parts,— a core of steam, which
is expanding adiabatically but is at the same time receiving addi-
tions to its amount in the form of saturated steam from the liquid
layer, and a liquid layer which is turning into steam.
Waste of 86. From a thermodynamic point of view all initial condensation
lieat. of the steam is bad, for, however early the film be re-evaporated,
this can take place only after its temperature lias cooled below
tli.at of the boiler. The process consequently involves a misappli-
cation of heat, since the substance, after parting with high tempera-
ture heat, takes it up again at a temperature lower than the top
of Its range. This causes a loss of efficiency (chap. II.), and the
loss IS greater the later in the stroke re-evaporation occurs. The
heat that is drawn from the cylinder by re-evaporation of the
condensed film becomes less and less effective for doing work as
the end of the expansion is approached, and finally,°whatever
evaporation continues during the back stroke is an unmitigated
source of waste. The heat it takes from the cylinde-- does no
work ; its only effect, indeed, is to increase the back pressure by
aiigmenting the volume of steam to be expelled. A small amount
of initial condensation reduces the efficiency of the engine but
. little; a large amount causes a much more than proportionallv
larger loss. ^
87. The fiction of the cylinder walls is increased by any loss of
heat which the engine sullers by radiation and conduction from its
external surface. ' The entering steam has then to give up enough
heat to provide for this waste, as well as enough to produce the
subsequent re-evaporation of tho condensed film. Tho consequence
IS that more steam is initially condensed. The loss of efficiency
due to this cause will therefore be greater in an unprotected
cylinder than in ono which is well lagged or covered with non-
conducting material. On tho other hand, if tho engine have a
steanj-jacket the deleterious action of the walls is reduced. Tho
working substance is then on the wholo gaining instead of losiu<r
heat by conduction during its passage through the cylinder. Tho
.jacket accelerates the process of re-evaporation and tends to make
It finish at a point in tho stroke when the temperature of the steam
J3 still comparatively high. When tho process is complete the
cylinder walls give up very little additioual heat to tho steam during
the remainder of the expansion and exhaust, for conduction and
radiation between dry steam and tho metal of the cylinder are
incompetent to cause any considerable exchange of heat Tho
"'}.,['"'• therefore, that evaporation is complete the less is tho metal
chilled, and the less is tho subsequent condensation. Moreover,
after this stage in the stroke has passed, a steam-jacket continues
[\CTUAL BEHAVIOUR
to give heat to the metal during tho remainder of tho double stroke,
and so warms it to a temperature more nearly equal to that of
the boiler steam beforo tho next admission takes place.
^ 88. Thus a steam-jacket, though in itself a thermodynamically
imperfect contrivance, inasmuch as its bbject is to supi.ly heat to
the working substance at a temjicrature lower than the source, acts
beneficially by , counteracting, to some extent, tho more serious
misapplication of heat which occurs through tho alternate cooling
and heating of the cylinder walls. The heat which a jacket com-
municates to working steam often increases the power of an engine
to an extent far greater than corresponds to the extra supply of
heat which the jacket itself requires. Besides its thermodynamic
ellect a jacket has the drawback that it increases waste by external
radiation, since it both enlarges the area of radiating surface and
raises its temperature; notwithstanding this, however, many ex-
periments have shown that in large and especially in slow-running
engines, tho iiilluence of a steam-jacket on the efficiency is, iu
general, good ; and this is to be ascribed to the fact that it reduces,
though it does not entirely remove, the evils of initial condensation.
To be elfective, however, jackets must be well drained and kept
full of " live " steam, instead of being, as many are, traps for con-
densed water or for air.
89. Jt is interesting to notice, in general terms, the effects which
certain variations of the conditions of working may be expected to
produce on the loss that occurs through the action of the cylinder
walls. Initial condensation will be increased by anything that
augments the range of temperature through which the inner
surface of the cylinder fluctuates in each stroke, or that exposes a
larger surface of metal to tho action of a given quantity of steam,
or that prolougs the contacts in which heat is exchanged. The
■influence of time is specially important; for' it must be borne in Influent
mind that tho whole action depends on the rate at which heatofspee..
is conducted into the substance of the metal. The changes of
temperature which tho metal undergoes arc in every case mainly
superficial; the alternate heating and cooling of the inner surface
initiates waves of high and low temperature iu the iron whose
effects are sensible only to a small depth ; and the faster the alter-
nate states succeed each other tho more superficial are the effects.
In an engine making an indefinitely largo number of strokes per
minute the cylinder sides would beliavo likenon-condiictorsand the
action of the working substance would be adiabatic.
We may conclude, then, that in general an engine running at
a high speed will have a higher thermodynamic efficiency than tho
same engine running at a low speed, all the other conditions of
working being the same in both cases.
Again, as regards range of temperature, tho influence of tho
cylinder walls will be greater (other things being equal) with high
than with low pressure steam, and iu condensing than in non-
condensing engines. On the other hand, high pressure has tho
good effect of reducing tho surface of metal exposed to tho action
of each pound of steam.
In large engines the action of the walls will be less than in small Tnfluenci
engines, since tho proportion of wall surface to cylinder volume is of size.
less. This conclusion agrees with the well-known fact that no
small engines achieve the economy that is easily reached with
larger forms, especially with large marine engines, which cclipso all
others in the matter of size.
Cylinder condensation is increased when the ratio of expansion Influena
is increased, all tho other circumstances of working being left of varii-
unaltered. The metal is then brought into more prolonged tion in
contact with low-temperature steam. The volume of admission is cut-off.
reduced to a greater extent thau the surface that is exposed to tho
entering steam, since that surface includes two constant quantities,
the surface of the cylinder cover and of the piston. For these
and perhaps other reasons, we may conclude that with an early cut-
off the initial condensatiou is relatively large ; and this conclusion
is amply borne out by experiment An important result is that
increase of expansion does not, beyond a certain limit, involve
increase of thermodynamic efficiency ; when that limit is passed the
augmentation of waste through the action of the cylinder walls
more than balances tho increased economy to which, on general
principles, expansion should give rise, and tho result is a net loss.
With a given engine, boiler pressure, and speed, a certain ratio of
expansion will give maximum efficicricy. But tho conditions on
which this maximum depends are too complex to admit of
theoretical solution ; the best ratio can be determined only by
experiment It may even happen that an engine which is reifuired
to work at a specified power will give better results, in point of
efliciency, with moderate steam-pressure and moderate expansion,
than with high steam-pressure and a very early cut-off.
60. The effect of increased exjiansion in augmenting tho action
of the sides and so reducing the efficiency, when carried beyond a
certain moderate grade, is well illustrated by the American and i
Alsatian experiments alluded to above. Tlio following figures
(Table III.), relating to a single-cylinder Corliss engine, aro reduced
from one of Hallauer's papers :' — ^^ ,
1 null. Sqc. Induslr. tU ilulhoiisc, Muy 26, ItieO.
05 STEAM IN CYLINDER.]
STEAM-ENGINE
489
Ratio C.I
Expansion.
Percentage o( Water present
Consumption of
Steam per Indi-
cated Horse-
Power per Hour,
At End of
AdniissIOD.
At End of
Expansion.
7-3
hi
151
24-2
30-8
37-5
17-8
18-6
20-8
m
17-8
17'6
17-7
Ratio of Total
E-xpansloQ.
Consumption of
Steam per I.H.P.
per Hour.
4-2
5-7
7-0
9-2
16-8
lb
21 '2
20-
20-3
20-7
25 1
Cficct of
rapor-
tieLttig.
Here a maximum of efficiency lies between the extreme grades of
expansion to which the test extends. In the American experi-
ments the best results were ob- ^y
taincd with even more moderate 1 able IV.
ratios of expansion. The com-
pound engines of the United
States revenue steamer " Bacho, "
when tested with steam in the
jacket of the large cylinder, with
the boiler pressure nearly uni-
form at 80 lb by gauge, or 95 lb
'per squire inch absolute, and
the speed not greatly varied,
fave the results shown in Table
V. Here the eBBciency is very
little affected by a large variation in the cut-off, but when the ratio
pf expansion becomes excessive a distinct loss is incurred. _
Experiments with engines, in the conditions which hold in
Ordinary practice, show that it is not unusual to find 20 or 30 per
cent, of the steam that comes over from the cylinder condensed
during admission. In favourable cases the amount is less than
this ; occasionally, on the other hand, the amount condensed is as
puch as half, or even more than half, the whole steam supply.
91. The action of the cylinder walls is reduced— (1) by jacketing,
((2) by superheating, and (3) by using compound expansion. The
Wvantage of the steam-jacket has been already mentioned. In
high-speed engines its beneficial effect is necessarily small, and m
certain cases the benefit may be even more than neutralized by the
drawbacks which have been alluded to above {§ 88). In general,
however, the steam-jacket forms a valuable means of reducing the
Pfasteful action of the cylinder walls, especially when the ratio of
expansion is considerable Experiments made with and without a
jacket, on the same engine, have shown that jacketing may increase
the efficiency by 20 or 25 per cent. When a jacket is working pro-
perly it uses, in a single-cylinder engine, 4 or 5 per pent., and in a
compound engine 8 to 12 per cent., of the whole steam supply.
92. Superheating the steam before its admission reduces the
amount of initial condensation, by lelsening the quantity of steam
needed to give up a specified amount of heat, and this in its
turn lessens the subsequent cooling by re-evaporation. That it
haa a marked advantage in this respect has been experimentally
demonstrated by Hirn. On general thermodynamic grounds
superheating is good, because it extends the range of temperature
through which the working substance is carried. In modern
practice superheating (to any considerable extent) is seldom
attempted. It occurs to a small extent whenever dry steam is
throttled, and a slight superheating is occasionally given to steam
in its passage from the high-pressure to the low-pressure cylinder
of a compound engine. In former years superheated steam was a
common feature of marine practice, but serious practical difficulties
caused engineers to abandon its use and to seek economy rather by
increasing the initial pressure and using compound expansion. In
those days, however, the theoretical advantage of superheating was
less understood than it is now. The economy of fuel which its
employmejt would probably secure is so great as to warrant a fresh
and energetic attempt to overcome the mechanical dillicultics of
construction and lubrication that have hitherto stood iu the way.
' 93. The most important means of preventing cylinder condensa-
tion from becoming excessive is the use of compound expansion.
If the vessels were non-conductors of heat it would be, from the
thermodynamic point of view, a matter of indifference whether
fexpansion was completed in a single vessel or divided between
two or more, provided the passage of steam from one to the other
was ])erformed without introducing unresisted expansion (§ 61).
But with actual materials the compound system has the important
merit that it subjects each cylinder to a greatly reduced range of
temperature variation. For this reason the amount initially
BOndensed in the high-pressure cylinder is greatly less than if
admission were to take place at once into the low-jiressiirc cylinder
and the whole expansion were to bo performed there. Further, the
steam which Is re-evaiiorated from the first cylinder during its
exhaust does work in the second, and it is only the ro-cvaporation
that occurs during the exhaust from- the second cylinder that is
absolutely wasteful. The exact advantage of this division of range,
88 compared with expansion (through tno simo ratio) in a single
cylinder, would be hard to calculate ; but it is easy to sec in a general
■way that an advantage ia to be anticipated, and (though there are
isolated instances to the contrary) experience bears out this con-
clusion. In largo engines, working with high pressure, much
expansion, and a slow stroke, the fact that compound engines are
in general more efficient than single engines cannot be doubted.
Additional evidence to the same effect is furnished when a com-
pound engine is tested first with compound expansion and then as a
simpleengine with the samegrade of expansion in the large cylinder
alone. Thus in the American experiments the compound engine of
the " Bache " when worked as a simple engine used 24 lb of steam
per I.H.P. per hour, as compared witn about 20 lb when the engine
worked compound, with the same boiler pressure, the same total
expansion, and steam in the jacket in both cases. The necessity
for compounding, if efficiency is to be secured, becomes greater
with every increase of boiler pressure. So long as the initial pres-
sure is less than about 100 tb per square inch (absolute) it suffices
to reduce the range of temperature into two parts by employing
two-cylinder compound engines ; with the higher pressures now
common in marine practice triple and even quadruple expansion ia
being introduced. ^
The action of the cylinder walls would be greatly reduced il
it were practicable to use a non-conducting material as an internal
lining to the cylinder and to the exposed surfaces of the piston.
No cure for the evils of initial condensation would be sn effectual
as this ; and in view of the economy of heat which would result,
it is a matter of some surprise that the use of a non-conductir
lining has not received more serious attention.
94. The principal reasons have now been named which make Actual
the actual results of engine performance differ from the results effi-
which would be obtained if the steam conformed in every respect ciency
to the simple theory stated in chap. III. It remains to state, of steam.
very shortly, a few of the results of recent practice as to the actual eoginei ■
efficiency of steam-engines considered as heat-cnginos.
The performance of a steam-engine, as regards economy in its
consumption of heat, may be stated in a number of ways. In some
of these the engine alone is treated as an independent machine ; in
others the engine, boiler, and furnace are considered as a whole.
The performance of the engine alone is best expressed by stating Modes ol
either (1) the thermodynamic "efficiency" or (2) the number of state-
thermal units used per horse-power per minute. These terms re- ment-
quire a short explanation. The " efficiency " of a heat-engine has
already been defined as the ratio of the work done to the heat sup-
plied. The "work done" ought in strictness to he reckoned as
the net work done by the working substance in passing through a
complete cycle of operations ; it should therefore be determined by
subtracting from the work which the substance does in the cylin-
der the work which is spent upon the substance in the feed-pump.
The latter is a comparatively small quantity, and engineers gene-
rally neglect it in their calculations of thermodynamic efficiency.!
In making comparison, however, between the efficiency which is
actually realized and the efficiency of a perfect engine or of an
engine working under any assumed conditions, account should ho
taken of the negative work done in the feed-pump. Account shou'd
also in strictness be taken of that part of the work spent in driving
the air-pump whirh is done upon the working substance, as dis-
tinguished from the water of injection. The " heat supplied " is the
total heat of the steam delivered to the engine, less the heat con-
tained in the corresponding amount of feed-water. This quantity
depends on the amount of steam used, on the temperature of the
feed, on the boiler pressure, and on the extent to which the boiler
"primes." Priming is the delivery by the boiler of water mL'^ed
with the steam. Except where there is actual superheating the
steam supply is always more or less wet ; in a badly designed or
overworked boiler large volumes of water may be carried over with
the steam, but in a good boiler of adequate size the .imount of
priming is less (often much less) than 5 per cent of the whole
supply. The effect of priming is, of course, to reduce the supply
of heat per lb of the working substance.
One horse-power is the mechanical equivalent of 4275 thermal
units per minute. The relation between the above two methods of
stating engine performance is therefore expressed by tho equation
4275
^'°"''"°y "Number of T.U. per I.H.P. per minute"
Another very common mode is to give the number of pounds of
stc.am supplied per horse-power per hour. This is unsatisfactory,
even as a method of stating the comparative ccoriomy of different
engines, or of one engine in different conditions, for several
reasons. It ignores variations in boiler pressure, in feed-wator
temperature, and in the dryness of the supply, although each of
these things affects the amount of boat required for tho jiroductioii
of a pound of sloam. But the total heat of production of dry
steam does not vav/ greatly within the limits of practical pressures ;
moreover, since (in condensing engines) feed-water is gonorally
taken from tho hot-well, its temperature does not differ much from
that of the air-pump discharge, or (say), 100° F. Finally, in many
comparative trials the amount of priming is nearly if not quite
consUnt. Hence it happens that this mode of statrmont oflrii
furnishes a fairly accurate teat of the economy of engines, and it
490
STEAM -ENG INE
LTESTINO O*
has the advantage of puttmg results in a way that is easy to under-
stand and reracmljer.
1 95. None of these modes of statement include the efficiency of
the boiler and furnace. Tlio peiformance of a boiler is most
usually e-Kpressed liy.giving the number of pounds of water nt a
stated tenjperature convertetl into steam at a stated pressure by
the combustion of 1 lb of coal. The temperature commonly chosen
is 212° F., and the water is supposed to be evaporated under atmo-
spheric pressure; the result may then be stated as so many pounds
of water evaporated from and at 212° F. per 1 lb of coal. But tlie
term "efficiency" may also be applied to a boiler and furnace
(considered as one apparatus) in the sense of the ratio between tlie
heat that is utilized and the potential energy that is contained in
the fuel. This latio is, in good boilers, about 0-". Thus, Ibr
example, 1 lb of Welsh coal contains about 15.500 thermal units
of potential energy, an amount which is equal to the heat of pro-
duction (L) of about 16 lb of steam from .nnd at 212°. In practice,
however, 1 lb of coal serves to evaporate only about 11 tt> of water
under these comlitions, or about 9 '5 lb when the feed-water enters
at 100° F. and the absolute pressure is 100 lb per square inch.
■ The efficiency of the engine multiplied by that of the furnace
and boiler gives a number which expresses the ratio between the
heat converted into work and the potential energy of the fuel. — a
number which is, in other words, the efficiency of the .system of
engine, boiler, and furnace considered as a whole. Instead, how-
ever, of expressing this idea by the use of the term efficiency,
engineers are more usually in the habit of stating the performance
of the complete system by giving the number of pounds of coal
consumed per horse-power per hour. It must be borne in mind
that this quantity depends on the performance of the boiler as much
as on that of the engine, and that the difference in thermal value
between one kind of coal and another makes it, at the best, a rough
way of specifying economy. It is, however, an easy quantity to
measure ; and to most users of engines the size of the coal-bill is a
matter of greater interest than any results of thermodynamic ana-
lysis. Still another expression for engine performauee, similar to
"Duty." this last, is the now nearly obsolete term "duty," or number of
" foot-pounds of work done for every 1 cwt. of coal consumed. Its
relation to the pounds of coal per horse-power per houi' is this —
112x33000x60
^ Number of lbs. of coal per I.H.P. per hour*
A good condensing engine of large size, supplied by good boilere,
consumes about 2 lb of coal per horse-power per hour; its duty is
then about 110 millions.
Results 96. To illustrate the subject of this chapter more fully the follow-
of trials, ing summary is given of the results of tests of pumping engines by
Mr J. G. JIair, described in tivo excellent papers in J/iit. Pro.
Inst. Civ. Eng. (vols. Ixx. and l.xxix. ). The iirst group (Table V. )
refers to single cylinder beam rotative engines, all of the same type,
working at about 120 horse-power (in all except the last trial there
were steam-jackets in use) : —
BoUer
Pressure
(Aba.).
Tot«l
Ratio of
Expausion.
Percentage
of Water
Present a*
Cut-otr.
Lbs. of Dry
Steam per
I.H.P. par
Hour.
Efficiency.
43
67
69
69
66 /
6-8
4-3
3-3
1-9
3-8
44
29
22
15
37
22 1
221
21-3
23-6
26-5
0009
0-099
0102 ■
0093
0-083
In these engines, which ran at the slow speed of about 20 revolu-
tions per minute, the influence of steam jacketing was very marked.
In the trials made with jackets in action, the percentage of -water
present at cut-otf, when plotted in relation to the ratio of expan-
sion, gives a diagram which is sensibly a straight line ; by drawing
this line it may be seen that with an expansion of 3 '8 in a similar
jacketed cylinder there would be about 25 per cent, of initial con-
densation instead of the much greater amount (37 per cent.) which
the absence of a jacket caused in the last trial.
The next group of tests (Table Vi. ) refer to compound engines,
of the typesinamed (fore.xplanationof the terms see chap. VI.) :' —
- -
^f5
.2 i
-« -2
^ c
2 ^
S t: a
hi.
up
a
B
■ ^
a!^<
i-«
zs %
&. O P.U
JM-n
w
Woolf beam, without jackets..
08
9-3
IS
51
2G-6
00S2
„ with jackets
C2
15-8
20
41
IT 3
o-i-.'c
,, without jackets..
89
7-8
34
34
10-2
0-113
, „ with jackets
88
9-6
34
33
]7-4
0-125
......
63
11 9
18
25
15-G
0-139
*'
78
16-5
23
31
15-5
0-140
' ''
7,5
l.'!-2
27
29
15-1
0-144
Woolf tandem, ■without jnckets
86
11-5
80
43
21-6
0-101
Sficeiver beam, with jackets...
76
13-6
24
34
J 14-S
n-uj
^ /or other comparative trials, see Hallauer's papers, especially LuH. Soc. InU.
it Vulhouse, Dec. 30, 1878, aod May 26, 1380.
V. The TF-s-rLNG of STE.VM-EiVoiNKS.
97. Fnder thi.-' head wo may include experiments mado to
determine— i,rt) tli^' horse-power of an engine; (6) the thermody-
namic elficicncy, or sonic more or less nearly equivalent quantity,
such as the rclati/iii (f power to steam supjily or to ceal consump-
tion (§ 95); (f) the distrilmiiou of stcaui, that is, the relation
which the sevci.il events of steam-admission, expansion, exhaust,
and compression bear to the stroke of the piston ; (i/) the amount
of initial condeusation. the wetness of the .ste.am throughout th«
stroke, and the transfer of heat between it and the cylinder w-alls ;
(c) tlie elliciency of the mechanism, or the ratio which the work
done by the engine on the machiuer}' it drives bears to the work
done by the steam in the cj'linder.
Tests (a)' and (c) are of common application ; test (J), in th*
simple form of a comparison of horse-power witli coal burnt per
hour, is not unusual. The actual measurement of efficiency, whether
thermodynamic (6) or mechanical (t), and the analysis involved in
{(l) have been carried out iu compaiatively few instances.
98. In all these operations the taking of indicator diagrams form^
a principal part. The indicator, invented by AVatt and improved
by Jl'Nauglit and by Richards, consists of a small steam cylinder,
fitted with a piston w-hich tlides easily within it and is pressed
down by a spiial sprijig of steel wiie. The cylinder of the indicator
is connected by a \>i\K below this piston to one or other end of the
cylinder of the engine, so th.at the piston of the indicator rises and
falls in response to the fluctuations of pressure which occur in the
engine cylinder. The indicator piston actuates a pencil, which
rises and falls with it and traces the diagiam on a,sheet of paper
fixed to a drum that is caused to rotate back and forth through a
certain are, iu unisou with the motion of the engine piston. In
ll'Naught's indicator the pencil is directly attached to tho
indicator piston, in Kichards's the pencil is moved by means of a
system of links so that it copies the motion of the piston on a
magnified scale. This has the advantage that an equally largo
diagram is drawn with much less movement of the piston, and
errors which are caused by the piston's inertia are consequently
reduced. In high-speed engines especially it is important to
minimize the inertia of the indicator piston and the parts con-
nected w-ith it. In Kichards's indicator tho linkage employed to
multiply the piston's motion is an arrangement similar to tho
parallel motion introduced by Watt as a means of guiding the
piston-rod iu beam engines (see § 188). In several recent forms
of indicator lighter linkages arc adopted, and other changes have
been made w-ith the object of fitting the instrument better for high-
speed work. One of these modihed forms of Kichards's incucaior
(the Crosby) is shown in fig. 21. The pressure of steam in- tho
engine cylinder raises the piston P,
compressing the spring S and causing
the pencil Q to rise iu a nearly straight
line through a distance proportional,
on a magnified scale, to tho com-
pression of tho spring and therefore
to tho pressure of thu
steam. At the same tinio
the drum D, which canies
the paper, receives motion
thi-ough the cord C from
the crosshead of the en- .
gine. Inside this di-um there isia spiral spriug which becoaros
wound up when the cord is pulled, and serves to turn the drum in
the reverse direction during the back stroke. The cap of the indi-
cator cylinder has holes in it which admit air freely to the top of
the piston, and the piston has room to descend, extending tho
spring S, when the picssure of tho steam is less than that of tho
atmosphere. The spring is easily taken out and replaced by a moro
or less stiff one when higher or lower pressures have to be dealt with
99. To register coirectly, an indicator must satisfy tw-o conditions :
(1) the motion of tho piston must be propoi tional to the changt
of steap.i pressure iu the engine cylinder ; and (2) the motion o)
the drum must be proportional to that of the engine piston.
The first of these requiies that _ the pipe which laMinccts th;
STEAM-ENGINES.]
STEAM-ENGINE
491
indicator with the cylinder should be short and of sufficient liore.
and that it should open in the cylinder at a place where the
nressuro in it will not bo affected by the kinetic action of the
inrushing steam. Frequently pipes are led from both ends of the
cylinder''to a central position where the indicntor is set. so that
diagrams may bo taken from either end without shifting the
instrument ; mncli better results are obtained, especially when tlio
cylinder is long, by using a pair of indicators, each fixed with the
shortest possible connecting pipe, or by taking diac;raras succes-
sively from the two ends of the cylinder with a single instrument
set first at one end and then at the other. The general eHect of
an insufficiently free connexion between the indicator and the
online cylinder is to make the diagram too small. The first con-
dition is also invalidated to some extent by the friction of tlio
indicator piston, of the joints in the linkage, and of the pencil on
the paper. The piston must slide very freely ; nothing of the
nature of packing is permissible, and any steam that leaks past it
must have a free exit through the cover. The pencil pressure
must not exceed the minimum which is necessary for clear marking.
By careful use of a well-made instrument the error due to friction
in the piston and connected parts need not be serious. Another
source of disturbance is the inertia of these parts, which tends to
set them into oscillation whenever the indicator piston suflers a
comparatively sudden displacement. These oscillations, superposed
upon the legitimate motions of the piston, give a wavy outline to
parts of the diagram, especially when the speed is great and when
the last-named source of error (the friction) is small. When they
appear on the diagram a continuous curve should be drawn mid-
way between the crests and hollows of the undulations. To keep
(hem within reasonable compass in high-speed work a stiff spring
must be used and an indicator with light parts should be selected.
Finally, to secure accuracy in the pencil's movement, the strain of
the spring must be kept well within the limit of elasticity, so that
the strain may be as nearly as possible proportional to the steam
pressure. Care must be taken that the spring is graduated to suit
the temperature (about 212° F.) to which it is exposed when in
nse ; its stiffness at this temperature is about 3 per cent, less than
waen cold.
With regard to the motion of the drum, it is, m the first place,
nctessary to havo a reducing mechanism which will give a
sufficiently accurate copy, on a small scale, of the engine piston's
stroke, jlany contrivances are nsed for tliis purpose ; in some a
rigorous geometrical solution of the problem is aimed at, in others
a close approximation only. Fig. 22 shows a good form of indicator
gear. A pendulum red AB is pinned at one end
to (he crosshead A (the end of the piston-iod) of
the engine. Its upper end is carried by a pin
which is free to turn and slide in the fixed slot
B. A cord from an intermediate .point C leads
over pulleys to the indicator drum. The pendu-
lum rod should be much longer than the piston
stroke, and thfl cord should lead off for a con- ^
siderablo distance in the direction sketched, at_.|t.i'.'l''."-,
right angles to the mean position of the rods. ^^^ 22._,„aieator
The accuracy of the drum s motion does not, how- ' (j(,„,._
ever, depend merely on the geometrical condition
of^thc gear. It depends also on the rigidity of the parts, and espe-
cially on the stretching of the cord. The elasticity of the cord
■will cause error if it is not maintained in a state of unifonn tension
throughout the double stroke, and this error will bo greater the
longer and the more extensible the cord is. Hence short cords are to
be preferred; and fine wire, which stretches much less, may often bo
substituted for cord with great advantage. The stretching of the
cord is perhaps the most serious and least noticed source of error
the indicator is subject to in ordinary practice. The tension of the
cord varies for three reasons, — the inertia of tlie drum, the varyin"
resistance of the drum sjuing, and the friction of the dram, which
has the effect of increasing the tension during the forward stroke
and of reducing it during the back .stroke. This last cause of
variation can be minimizeil only by good construction and careful
use of the instrun^ent ; but the other two^causcs can bo made to
neutralize one another almost completely. Since the motion is
nearly simple harmonic, the acceleration of the drum vanes in a
nearly uniform manner from end to end of the stroke. The resist-
ance of the druiu spring aUo varies uniformly ; and it is therefore
only necessary to adjlist tlio stiffness of the drum spring so that
the increase in its resistance as the motion of tlie drum proceeds
may balance the decrease in the force that the cord has to exert
in sotting the drum into motion. This adjustment will secure an
almost uniform tension in the cord throughout the whole stroke ;
it must, of course, be altered to suit different engine^poeds. The
indicator plays so important a part in the testing of heat-engines,
whctlier for practical or scientific purjioses, that no pains should bo
spnred to avoid the numerous and serious sources of error to which
it is liable through faulty construction oi^unjntelligent use.'_
~f"A Villuublc^'.llRtnsslon iTna'cxpcil"!^'"' ''"""«""»" "' "'" 'i"Vi' ?/ ',!i°
Indlcolor wiJ bo fouiiU w hapcrt >:7 Proi'. nib' nui BoynoWs ond Mr u. w.
100. To determine the indicated horso-power, the mean effective
pressure is found by diriding the area of the diagram by the length
of its base. This gives a mean height, which, interpreted on the
scale of pressures, is the mean effective pressure in pounds pet
square inch. This has to he jii'ilti))lied by the effc>;tive area of the
pisron in square inches and by the length of the piston stroke in
feet, to find the work done p«r »tTvVe in foot-pounds on that side
of the piston to which the uiagiani refers. Let A| bo the area of
the piston on one side and A„ on the other ; />, and }>, ^''^ mean
effective pressures on the two sides respectively; L the length of
the stroke in feet ; and n the number of complete double stroKes or
revolutions per minute. Then the indicated horse-power
T H P nUl>iA.,+l>,A.^
i.iT.r.= gggpQ
In finding the mean pressure the area of the duigram may be con-
veniently measured by a planimeter or calculated by the use of
Simpson's rule. A less accurate plan, frequently followed, is to
divide the diagram by lines drawn at the middle of strips of equal
«r^-
. t. 1. ±. L.l^.i
Fig. 23.
FiC -i-
wiu*li, as in figs. 2-3 and 24, and to take the mean pressure as the
average height of these lines.
101. Space admits of no more than a few illustrations of ncttial
indicator diagrams. Fig. 23 is a diagram taken from an antiquated
non-condensing engine working without ex- -. •
pansion. The line AB has been drawn at a
height which represents the boiler pressure, in
order to show the loss of pressure in admission.
The line CD is drawn at atmospheric pressure
by the indicator itself. In this engine ad-
minsion continues till the end of the forward
stroke, and as a result the back pressure is
great, especially during the first stage of the
exhaust. The diagram shows a slight amount of oscillation pro-
duced by the sudden admission of steam. This feature, however,
is better illustrated by fig 24, which is another
diagram tiken from the same engine, at the
same boiler pressure, but with the steam much
throttled.
Fig. 25 shows a pair of diagrams taken hem
a condensing engine in which the distribution
of steam is effected by a common slide valve _
(chap. VIII.). The two diagrams refer to opposite ends of the cylin-
der and are taken on the same paper by the plan already alluded to
(§ 99) of fixing the indi-
cator about midway be-
tween the ends of the
cylinder, \vith a pipe
lending from it to each
end. Steam is cut off
at a andn', release occurs
at b and 6', and compres-
sion begins at c and c'.
The gradual closing of
theslidevalves throttles
the steam considerably before the cut-off is complete. The lino of
no pressure EF is drawn 14-7 lb per square inch below CD, which
is the atmospheric line ; and the line of no volume AE or BF is
drawn (for c.ich end of the cylinder) at a distance (from the end of
the diagram) equal to the volume of the clearance^
Fig. 20 is a diagram taken from a Corliss engine working with
a large ratio of expansion. The Coili.ss valve-gear, which will be
described in chap. IX., causes the admission valvo
to close suddenly, and con.scmiently defines the
oint of cut-off ]iretty sharply in the diagram.
Through this point a dotted curve has been drawn
(by aid of the equation PV"- const., § C7), which
is the curve that would be fol-
lowed if the expansion were
- adiabatic. In drawing this
Fio. -io.— Indicator Diagram from curve it has been assumed that
Corliss Enclne. (j[ t],o end of admission the
steam contains 25 per cent, of water. The actual curve fir.t falls
below and then rises above this adiabatic curve, in couso-
qnence of the continued condensation wlii-h tikes place
Auring the early stages of the expansion ""'l t'>« ^^-o™.!""-
tion of condensed water during later stages (§8.). I'lg- 12/
is another diagram from a CorliM
engine, running light, and with
the condenser not in action. Dia-
grams of this kind are often taken
- wlicn engines are first erected, for
UK ■"■ the purpose of testing the setting
of the valves. Other indicator diagrams, for compound engines,
will bo given in ihap. 'VI
Fig. 25. — Indicator Dlaei-am from CoQ(lQQ£>iog
EogUlo, wiib tiliJo-Valvo.
L»i Sp^'t' P'ettun
Proc. Jn'l. C.F., voi. Ixxxlll., 1880>.
In the <ll»rn«iilin »hl«h
BrtRhtmovo tUin.
followed tlio PLfullnH »ii luK [.iijiLia » .j^.....,-. — — .- - ..nirnrm-
opparatus whicli tlio malicni of tlio Cro.hy l.ullciilor employ to test the unlfonn-
lljr of tlio cord's tonalon throughout tlio itroko.
492
STEAM-ENGINE
[TESTINa OP
In place of the ordinary indicator an apparatns is occasionally
used which integrates the two coordinates which it is the business
of the indicator diagram to represent, and exhibits t>^ power
developed from stroke to stroke by the progressive movement of
an index round a diah
102. In tests of thermodynamic eCScieucy we may measure either
the heat supplied or the heat rejected, and compare it with the work
done. The heat supplied is on the ^hole capable of more exact
measurement, but in any case a determination of the heat rejected
furnishes a valuable check on the accuracy of the result. The
trial must be continued for a period of some hours at least, during
which the engine and boiler are to be kept working as uniformly
as possible in all respects. The power is determined by taking
indicator diagrams at short intervals. The heat supplied is found
by noting the amount of feed-water required to keep the water-
level in the boiler constant during the trial, the temperature of the
feed, and the pressure of the steam. The only uncertainty which
attaches to the measurement of heat-supply is due to priming.
Every pound of water that passes over unevaporated to the engine
takes less heat by the amount L (§ 60) than if it went over in the
state of 'steam. To measure the degree of wetness in steam is a
matter of some difficulty ; it may bo done by passing the steam
into a Imown quantity of cold water, so as to condense it, and
observing the rise of temperature which has taken place when the
whole quantity of water present has increased by a measured
amount.
If Lj be the latent heat of steam at the boiler pressure, A, tne
heat in the feed- water per lb, Aj the heat in the boiler water per lb,
and q the dryness of the steam as it leaves the boiler, the heat
taken in per fe of the substance supplied to the cylinder is
To this must be added, in the case of a jacketed engine, the heat
supplied to the jacket, a quantity which depends on the amount of
steam condensed there, and also on whether the water that gathers
in the jacket is drained back into the boiler or allowed to escape
into the hot-well.
The heat rejected by an engine fitted with an injection condenser
is made up of the followi-.ig parts : — (a) heat rejected in the con-
densed water, less the heat returned to the boUer in the feed (if
the feed is directly drawn from the hot-well without giving the
water timo to cool sensibly, this quantity vanishes ; in a jacketed
engine this item must include the heat rejected in the jacket drains) ;
(b) heat used in warming the condenser water from the temperature
of injection to the temperature of the air-pump discharge ; (c) heat
rejected in air and Tapour from the air-pump ; (d) heat lost by
radiation, conduction to supports, and aerial convection, — or, yiore
properly, the excess of this heat over the heat developed witlfiu
the engine by the friction of piston, valves, &c. Of these quanti-
ties, (a) is found without difficulty from a knowledge of the amount
of the feed-water, its temperature, the temperature of the air-pump
discharge, and amount and temperature of water drained from the
jacket ; (J) is measured by gauging the whole discharge from the
pump, deducting from it the amount returned to the boiler as feed-
water, and measuring its temperature and that of the injection
water ; (c) does not admit of direct measurement ; (d) may be
approximately estimated for a jacketed engine by filling the jacket
with steam while the engine is out of action, and observing the
amount of steam condensed in the jacket during a long interval,
through radiation, &c., from the external surface.
In calculating the supply of heat by the boiler it is convenient
to take the temperature 32° F. as a starting point from which to
reckon what may be termed the gross supply, and then to deduct
from this the heat which is restored to the boiler in the feed-water.
The difference, which may be called the net supply, is the true
consumption of heat, and is to be used in calculating the efficiency
of the engine. A similar convention may be followed in dealing
with the heat rejected.
103.. This subject is most easily made intelligible by help of a
numerical example. For this purpose the following data of an
actual engine-test have been taken fi'om one of Mr Mair's papers' ;
the data have been independently reduced, with results that differ
only to a small and unimportant extent from those stated by Mr
Mair. The engine under trial was a compound beam engine, steam-
jacketed, with an intermediate receiver between the cylinders.
The cylinders were 21 inches and 36 inches in diameter, and the
stroke 5^ feet. The total ratio of expansion was 13 '6.
Data.
BoUer pressure, absolate, 76 lb per sq. in.
rUne of tilal 6 hours.
Revolutions 8632, or 24-0 per mln.
I.H.P 127 4.
Feed-water 12.032 ftp, or 1'394 lb per rev. (M.).
Air-pump discharge 1226 lb per min., or 61'1 ft per rev
Water drained from jackets 1605 lb, or 0-186 lb per rev. (M,).
Percentage of priming ...„ 4.
Temperature of feed, Iq 59'
Temperature of injection, t^ 50*.
Temperature of air-pump discharge, fj ...73'-4.
ItesvZts.
Dryness of boiler steam, ^=0-96.
Supply to cylinder, Me =M— Mj=rl'028 lb per rev.
Injection water per rev. = 51 1—1-208 =49-9 lb.
L, = 898, A,=2-8, /i2=18, *j = 41-4, »o = 27.
Gross supply o/ ^eat from boiler to cylinder per reTolution
= M,(,L,-1-A,)
= 1-203 (0-96 x898-(-278)=1377 T.U.
Gros* supply of heat from boiler to jackets per revoludon
=M (9L,-fA0
= 0-186 (0-96 X 898-1- 278)=212 T.U.
Total gn)S3 supply per revolution=1377 -1-212 = 1689 T.tJ.
Heat restored to boiler per revolution, »~
By feed water=MAo=l-394x27=38 T.U
By jacket draiiis=0.
Net supply of heat per revolut'on = 1589— 3S=1651 T.U.
Heat concerted into work, per revolution
' Min. free Inst, C. E- vol Ux.
24
Total heat rejected per revolution=1551— 227 = 1324 T.U.
The rejected heat is accounted for as follows •—
Net heat rejected in air-pump discharge = Gross heat rejected In alr-ptunp dl»-
charge— heat in injection water— heat restored to the boiler by the feed
= 51-1x41-4-49-9x18-38 = 1179 T.U.
Heat rejected in jacket drains=MjAi = 0186x278=52 T.U.
These two items account for 1231 units of rejected heat and
leave a balance of 93 units unaccounted Sot. The balance is made
up of heat rejected in air and vapour by the air-pump, heat lost
by radiation, &c. , and errors of experiment. In the example con-
sidered the loss by radiation was estimated at 45 thermal units>
which reduces the discrepancy between the two sides of the account
to 48 units, or only about 3 per cent, of the whole heat supplied.
The efficiency of the engine is /^Vi or 0 '146. The efficiency of a
perfect engine working between the same limits of temperature,
308° F. and 50° F., would be 0-335.
104. When it is desired to deduce from the test of an sn^ne not Calcu..
only the thermodynamic efficiency but also the amount of initial "on of
condensation and the subsequent changes of wetness which the "/'(^'^'"
working fluid undergoes during expansion, it is necessary to know, steam
in addition to the above data, the volume of cylinder and clearance,
the relation of pressure to volume during the several stages of the
stroke, and the whole amoimt of working substance present in the
cylinder. This last is a quantity whose precise value is not easily
ascertained. Assuming tliat the point at which compression begins
can be distinguished on the diagram, we have the pressure and the
volume of the steam that is afterwards compressed into the clear-
ance space. From its pressure and volume we can infer its amount,
if only its degree of dryness be known. The assumption usually
made is that at the beginning of compression the steam shut up in
the cylinder is dry. This assumption is to a certain extent supported
by the fa,ct that re-evaporation has-been going on during expansion
and exhaust ; in good engines it is probably not far from the truth,
though there are cases where, owing to excessive initial condensa-
tion and to the exhaust ports being badly situated for draining
the cylinder, water may accumulate in considerable quantities.
Except in extreme cases of this kind, however, the assumption that
the steam is dry when compression begins does not introduce an
error which can seriously affect the subsequent calculations. Hav-
ing found the quantity shut up in t'.e clearance, we add to it the
quantity delivered from the boiler per single stroke, to find the
whole quantity of working substance in the cylinder. The sub-
stance is, and continues, a mixture in varying proportions of steam
and water. Its volume may practically be taken as the volume of
the dry steam it contains, the volume of the water being compara-
tively small. Taking any point of the stroke, and measuringthe
pressure and the volume there, we can say how much steam (at
that pressure) would be required to fill the volume which the mix-
ture then occupies. This quantity will always be less than the
actual amount of the mixture ; and the difference between them is
the amount of water that is present. This calculation is of special
interest at two places in the stroke — the point of cut-off and the
point of release.
105. To illustrate it we may continue the nnmsrical example
quoted above. In the high-pressure cylinder of the engine to
which the test refers the volume at the beginning of com-
pression (including clearance) was 1 -52 cubic feet. The
pressure, just before compression began, is shown by the
indicator diagram (of which fig. 28 is a copy) to have
been 14-8 lb per square inch. At this pres-
sure the density (or mass of 1 cubic foot)
of steam is 0-038 lb. Hence (on the above ,
assumption that the steam was then dry)
the quantity shut up in the clearance was j.
1-52 X 0-038=0-058 11). '
The amount delivered to the cylinder per ^'^- ^'•
single stroke (or half revolution) was 0 004 lb. The whole quauti^
of working substance present from the end of the admission to the
beginning of the exhaust was therefore 0-662 lb.
At the point of cut-off the pressure is shown by the diagram tc'
have been 64 lb per square iach (absolute), and the volu»e, inclnd-
ing cleaiance, was 2-92 cubic feet The density of steam for thir
PXK.'VM-ENGINES.J
STEAM-ENGINE
493
.,-o<,=„rP 1? u-151 IB per cubic foot. Hence, out of the whole
^^ture the an ount of steam Nvas 2-92x 0-151 = 0-440 ft. The
^ate resent it the poiut of cut-olf was therefore 0-G62 - 0-440 or
o 990 lb This is 33-5 per cent, of tlio whole amount of the mix-
turranil shows (after allowing for the prinwng water) that about
32 Tier cent, of the steam adniitted was condensed on admission
T?ext to find the amount of water present at the end of the
.vnansion. The diagram shows that at this point the pressure was
16-2 ft ?^ square inch and the volume 13-235 cubic feet. Steam of
this' T^reSure has a density of 0 -0392 !b per cubic foot. The qnan -
titv of steam at release was therefore 13-235 x 0-0392, or 0-519 ft,
«nd the quantity of water 0-662 - 0-519 = 0-143 ft. t appenrs
therefore ^that re^evaporation from the cylinder walls during ex-
mnsirreduced the Lount of water present by 0-079 ft, so th.at
theTe^centage of water fell from 33-5 at the point of cut-off to
21 6 It the point of release. The same method of calculation can
obviously be applied to any other point in the expansion curve,
and can be extended to the low-pressure cylinder of an engine
which (like the one in this example) is compound The amount
Tf dry steam present at the point of release ,s sometimes spoken of
as the " steam accounted for by the indicator diagrain.
106 Having completed this analysis of the -^-orking-substance
we may proceed to find the quantity of heat which it gives to or
TakM f"n the walls of the cylinder during any stage o its ac ion,
bv con ider ng the changes of internal energy which the working
subsJ^nce undergoes, along with the external work done, from
sto 'e to sta 'e If we writi .-i for the amount of steam and m' for
t£famount"of water present in the cylinder at any one stage, the
internal energy of the mixture is (§ 62)
{m + in')h + mp.
Let the value of this quantity be denoted by U at any one stage
in the expansion or compression of the mixture such as the point
of cut-off A, and by 1b at a later stage such as the point of release
B the corresponding volumes of the whole mixture being .a ami
Vb respectively. Then in passing from the first condiuori to the
second the substance loses U - Ib of internal energy. It also does
an amount of external work Wab measured byy^ PdV, or the area
of the figure ABai. If Wab is equal to Ia--Ib the process is
adiabaticl otherwise the amount of heat taken up (from the
cylinder walls) during the process is
Qab = Wab-(Ia-Ib).
If A is the point of cut-off and B that of release, the quantity so
calculated is the heat taken up from the cylinder walls during the
whole process of expansion. The calculation applies equally, how-
ever, in determining the heat taken up during any stage of the
process. When this has a negative value heat has been given up
by the'substanco to the cylinder walls. In the numerical example
which has been cited above the internal energy of the mixture at
the beginning of expansion was 540 thermal units. At the end ol
expansion the internal energy was 584 thermal units. Between
these points the indicator diagram (fig. 28) shows that the work
done was equivalent to 55 thermal units. 44 -f 55 -99 units of heat
were therefore taken from the cylinder walls during the process
of expansion. A similar calculation, applied to the compression
curve, shows that in that part of the operation heat was given up
to tho cylinder walls. During compression W is of course nega-
tive, since work is then spent upon the steam.
107. Durin" admission and also during exhaust another item
enters into the account,— the amount of the working substance is
then undergoing change. To find the heat given up by the
steam during admission wo have first to calculate (by the method
already described) the internal energy of the mi.xod steam and
water that is shut into the clearance space at tho end ot the
previous stroke; this may be called Id. The steam ivliich then
enters brings with it an additional amount of internal energy
which we may calculate from a knowledge of the quantity of steam,
its pressure at admission, and its dryness. Let lo denote this
additional supply of internal energy. At the end of admission the
atate of the mixture is known from the indicator diagram ; hence
its internal energy Ia may bo found. The work done dunng
admission, Wda, is also determined from the diagram. Then we
have, for tho heat given up by tho steam during admission,
Qda-Id + Io-Ia-Wda.
In attempting to apply the same method of calculation to de-
termine tho heat taken up from tho cylinder walls during exhaust
(Qbc), we are met by tho difficulty that we do not know the state,
es regards dryness, of tho mixture during its expulsion from tho
cylinder. We may, however, estimate the value of Qno as follows.
Irft QcD and Qda bo, as before, the heat given u)) by the steam to
the cylinder walls during compression and admission respectively,
and lot Qab be the heat taken from tho cylinder walls during ex-
haust ; also let Qr be the heat which tho cylinder loses (per einglo
itroke) by radiation (less the heat produced by piston and valve
Motion), and Qj the heat which it gains by condenaation of otimm
in th. iacket, if there is one. Then, as the cylinder neither gains
nor losis heat on the whole, after a uniform regime has been arnved
at, we have
Qbc = QcD + Qda •+ Qj - Qr-
The quantity Qbc may also be calculated directly from a know-
ledge of the gross heat rejected to the condenser, since the gross
heat rejected is la-f'^BC + Qnc,
fn being tho internal energy of tho mixture at release and Wbc
being the work done unon the steam in cxncUing it from the
*^^ 108 "^ This heatQnc, which is taken up by tne steam from the
cylinder walls during exhaust, is a part of the heat deposited there
during admission. It has passed through the cylinder without con-
tributing in the smallest degree to the work ol the engine. Prob-
ably for" this reason it is treated by some writers as a quantity
which measures the wasteful induenceof the cylinder walls. This,
however is not strictly the case. Themagnitudeof Qbc is certainly
in some sense an index of the extent to which the alternate heating
and cooling of the metal causes inefficiency ; it is so much heat
absolutely lost, and lost by the action of the walls. [In tho high-
pressure cylinder of a "compound engine this loss is, of course,
absolute only as regards that cylinder ; the heat represented by Qno
assists in the work of the low-pressure cylinder.] But besides this
loss there is another which the walls cause by taking heat frotn
the steam on admission and restoring it during the later stiiges of
expansion That part of the heat abstracted during admission
which is restored before the point of release does not appear in Qbc ;
nevertheless it is a source ot inefficiency. With st«am that is dry
at the end of the expansion the value of Qnc is almost negligible;
still the cylinder walls may cause a very sensible loss by abstracting
heat from the hot steam as it enters and restoring it as tho mixture
expands. The quantity which has beeu denoted here by Qbc—
that heat, namely, which the steam takes up from the cylinder
walls after release and during exhaust-appears in the writings of
Hirn and his followers under the symbol R,. He terms it le re
froidissement au condenseur," and refers to it, somewhat inexactly,
as "I'effet r&l des parois."' Prof Cotterill applies the name
" exhaust waste " to the sum of the two quantities Qbc and Qr.
109 It is obvious that the above analysis depends fundament-
ally on tho strict accuracy with which the indicator diagram not
only gives a measure of the work done by the engine under test,
but shows tho relation of pressure to volume at each sUge in the
process. Engine tests of a complete kind have now been made
and discussed by a number of independent observers, working wnth
widely different data. The results are in good general agreement.
They demonstrate the influence of the side-s beyond question, show-
ino that 30 per cent, is no unusual amount of water to be present in
the mixture at the point of cut-off, even in compound engines of the
best types ; that half of this water, or even more, is frequently found
at the end of expansion ; and that the heat denoted above by Qnc
ranges from about 10 to 20 per cent, of the whole heat supplied.-' _
110 An eno-ine employed to drive other machinery delivers to Efficiencf
it an amount of power less than the indicated power by an amount ot the
which is wasted in overcoming the friction of piston and Piston- niechas
rod slides, valves, journals, &c. Tho effioiency of the mechamsm ism,
is tho ratio of the "effective" or "brake" liorso-power to the
indicated horse-power. It may be tested by measuring the
power delivered by the engine when at work, either by using
a transmission dynamometer or by substituting an absorption
dynamometer for the mechanism usually driven. In the case ot a
pumping engine tho efficiency of tho engine and pumps together
Inaylje determined by observing the victual work done in raising
water or in delivering a measured volun.e against a known pressure.
Attempts are sometimes made to find the amount of power wasted
in engine friction by testing tho in''.icated power needed «r drive
tho engine against no other resistan co than its own friction, i nis,
however, fails to show the power which will be spent in overcoming
friction wh'en the engine runs under irdinary conditions, since tne
pressures at tho slides, the journals, and elsewhere are then w-idciyj
difforfnt from what they are when the engine is running without
load. Experiments wth large engines show that tho efficiency ol
the mechanism may, in favourable cases, bo 0-85 or oven 0 9 , m
small engines, or in largo engines running under bght loads, it u
generally much less than this. _^____
~ Bull. Soc. Ind. de MulhmiH, 1881.
» The Steam Engine considered as a Ileal ^"!""'. P- °.'- ... „-„„.a t,. ib»
1884 especially cxilblls I . [""'", °',„isw,com.dn. an accoi.nl of cprilmciU
Tlie/ounio; of the f™""^"" '"h''!l„„; c„p|„o, under varied condition, of l...llor
by Meaar. Gately """. '^ '''I'd. The." SS far a. U.ey ro, conflm. the conch.Monl
prcMuro. expan. on, «"* •P"°;,\?Yv For a aynopaii of Hlm-i nieirn.) of .n.-
fiouw, Mti-ch SI, ims.'
494
STEAM-ENGINE
[COMPOTJUD EXPA.N8I0IT.
VI. CoMPOOTfii Expansion.
Receiver
«n0ne.
111. In the original form of compound engine, invented by
Hornblower and revived by Woolf, steam passed directly from the
first to the second cylinder ; the exhaust from the first and
admission to the second went on together throughout the whole of
the back stroke. This arrangement is possible only when the
high and low pressure pistons begin and end their strokes together,
that is to say, when their movements either coincide in phase
or differ by half a revolution. Engines of the "tandem" type
satisfy this condition— engines, namely, whose high and low
pressure cylinders are in one line, with one piston-rod common to
both pistons. Engines in which the high and low pressure
cylinders are placed side by side, and act either on the same crank
or on cranks set at 180° apart, may also discharge steam directly
from one to the other cylinder; the same remark applies to beam
engines, whether of the class in which both pistons act on one end
of the beam, or of the class introduced by M'Naught, in which the
high and low pressure cylinders stand on opposite sides of the
centre. By a convenient usage which is now pretty general the
name " Woolf engine " is restricted to those compound engines
which discharge steam directly from the high to the low pressure
cylinders without the use of an intermediate receiver.
112. An intermediate receiver becomes necessary when the phases
of the pistons in a compound engine do not agree. With two cranks
at right angles, for example, a portion of the discharge from the
high-pressure cylinder occurs at a time when the low-pressure cylin-
der cannot properly receive steam. The receiver is in some cases an
entirely independent vessel connected to the cyUnders by pipes ; very
often, however, a sufEcient amount of receiver volume is afforded by
the valve casings and the steam-pipe which connects the cylinders.
The receiver, when it is a distinct vessel, is frequently jacketed.
The use of a receiver is of course not restricted to engines in
which the "Woolf" system of compound working is impracticable.
On the contrary, it is frequently applied with advantage to beam
and tandem compound engines. Communication need not then be
maintained between the high and low pressure cylinders during the
whole of the stroke; admission to the low-pressure cylinder is stopped
before the stroke is completed ; the steam already admitted is allowed
to expand independently ; and the remainder of the discharge from
the high-pressure cylinder is compressed into the intermediate re-
ceiver. Each cylinder has then a definite point of cut-off, and by
varying these points the distribution of \j-ork between the two cylin-
ders may be adjusted at will. In general it is desirable to make
both cylinders of a compound engine contribute equal quantities of
worlc. If they act on separate cranks this has the effect of giving
the same value to the mean twisting moment on both cranks.
113. Wherever a receiver is used, care should be taken that
there is no unresisted expansion into it; in other words, the
5^" . pressure in the receiver should be equal to that in the high-pressure
- ' cylinder at the moment of release. If the receiver pressure is less
than this there will be what is termed a "drop" in the steam
pressure between the high-pressure cylinder and the receiver, which
will show itself in an indicator diagram by a sudden fall at the
end of the high-pressure expansion. This " drop " is, from the
thermodynamic point of view, irreversible, and therefore wasteful.
It can be avoided by selecting a proper point of cut-off in the low-
pressure cylinder. When there is no "drop" the expmsion that
occurs in a compound engine has precisely the s'-me effect in doing
work as the same amount of expansion in a simple engine would
have, provided the law of expansion be the same in both and the
waste of energy which occurs by the friction, of ports and passages
in the transfer of steam from one to the other cylinder be negligible.
The work done in either case depends merely on the relation of
pressure to volume throughout the process; and so long as that
relation^is unchanged it is a matter of indifference whether the
expansion be performed in one vessel or in more than one. It has,
however, been fully pointed out in chap. IV. that in general a
compound engine has a thermodynamic advantage over a simple
engine using the same pressure and the same expansion, inasmuch
as it reduces the exchange of heat between the working substance
and the cylinder walls and so makes the process of expansion more
nearly adiabatic. The compound engine has also a mechanical
advantage which will be presently described. The ultimate ratio
of expansion in any com-
pound engine is the ratio
of the volume of the low-
pressure cylinder to the
volume of steam admitted
to the high -pressure cylin-
der. Fig. 29 illustrates
the combined action of the
two cyUnders in a hypothetical compound engine of the Woolf
type, in which for simplicity the effect of clearance is neglected
and also the loss of pressure which the steam undergoes in transfer
irom one to the other cylinder. ABCD is the indicator diagram
of the high-pressuro cylinder. The exliaust line CD shows a tailing
Com-
pound
FlQ. 29. — Compound Dia^ams : Woolf tj-pe.
Fig. 30.— Corapound Diagrams :
Receiver type.
pressure in consequence of the increase of volume which the cfeam
IS then undergoing through the advance of the low-pressure piston.
EFGH is the diagram of the low-pressure cylinder diciwn alongside
of the other for convenience in the construction which follows. It
has no point of cut-off ; its admission line is the continuons curvft
of expansion EF, which is the same as the high-pressute exhaust'
line CD, but drawn to a different scale of volumes. At any point'
K, the actual volume of the ^iteam is KL-h JIN. By drawing OP
equal to KL-l-MN, so that OP represents the whole volume, and
repeating the same construction at other points of the diagram, we
may set out the curve QPR, the upper part of which is identical
with BC, and so complete a single diagram which exhibits thf
equivalent expansion in a single cylinder.
In a tandem compound engine of the receiver type the diagrams
I'esemble those shown in fig. 30. During CD (which corresponds
to FG) expansion is taking place into the large or low-
pressure cylinder. D and G mark the point of cut-off in
the large cylinder, after which GH shows the independent
expansion of the steam now shut within the large cylinder,
and DE shows the compression of
steam by continued discharge from
the small cylinder into the receiver.
At the end of the stroke the receiver
pressure is OE, and this must he
the same as the pressure at C, if
there is to be no "drop." Dia-
grams of a similar kind may be
sketched without difficulty for the case of a receiver engine with
any assigned phase relation between the pistons.'
114. By making the cut-offtake place earlier in the large cylinder
we increase the mean pressure in the receiver ; the work done in
the small cylinder is consequently diminished. ' The work done in
the large cylinder is correspondingly increased, for the total work
(depending as it does on the initial pressure and the total ratio of
expansion) is unaffected by the change. The same adjustment
serves, in case there is "drop," to remove it. By selecting a
suitable ratio of cylinder volumes to one another and to the volume
of the receiver, and also by choosing a proper point for the low-
pressure cut-off, it is possible to secure absence of drop along with
equality in the division of the work between the two cylinders.
To determine that point of cut-off in the low-pressure cylinder
which will prevent drop when the ratio of cylinder and receiver
volumes is assigned is a problem most easily solved by a graphic
process. The process consists iu drawing the curve of pressure
during admission to the low-pressure cylinder until it meets the
curve of expansion which is common to both cylinders.' Thus in
fig. 31 (where for the sake of simplicity the effects of clearance are
neglected) AB represents the
admission line and BC the ex-
pansion line in the small cylin-
der. . Belease occurs at C, and
from C to D steam is being
^^-^ taken by the largo cylinder.
^ D corre-
sponds to
the cut-
off in the
largecylin-
der, whicl)
low-pressure cylinder of a compound engine. istbenoint
to he found. From D to E steam is being compressed into the
receiver. To avoid drop the receiver pressure at E is to be the same
as the pressure at C. E is therefore known, and may be employed
as the starting-point in drawing a curve EF which is the admission
line of the low-pressure diagram EFGHI. This line is drawn by
considering at each point in the low-pressure piston's stroke whai
is then the whole volume of the steam. The place at which KF
intersects the continuous expansion curve ECG determines the
proper point of cut-off. The sketch (fig. 31) refers to the case of a
tandem receiver engine ; but the process may also be applied to an
engine with any assumed phase relation between the cranks. ^ Fig.
32 shows a pair of theoretical indicator diagrams determined in tho
same way for an engine with cranks at right angles, the high-pres-
sure crank leading. In using the graphic method any form may bo
assigned to the curve of expansion. Generally this curve may be
treated without serious inaccuracy as a common hyperbola, in which
the pressure varies inversely as the volume.
115 If this simple relation between pressure and volume ba
assumed, it is practicable to find algebraicaUy the low-pressure cut-
off which will give no drop, with assigned ratios of cylmder and
1 An intermediate receiver has the thermodynamic advantnge that It reduces
the range of temperature in the high-pressure cylinder, and so lielps to prevent
initial condensation of the steam. This will be made ohviousby a comparison of
fig 20 and fig 30 The lowest temperature leached in the high-pressorc cylinder
is that con-esponding to the pressure at D, and is matei iaily higher in flg. SO than
""sclera paper by Prof. R H. Smith, ■' On the Cutoff In the LwEO CyHndcr:
ot Compound Engines," 77ie Engineer, November 'il, 1835.
Fie. 31. Fig. 32.
Figs. 31 and 32. — Determination of the point of cut-off In tho
COSIPOnND EXPANSION.]
STEAM -ENGINE
495
receiver volames. Taldnfr tLe simplest case -that of a tandem
e^ine or of an engine with parallel cylmdera ^hose pistons move
together or ia opposition-we may proceed thus. Since the point
of cut-off to bo determined depends on volume ratios we may for
brevhV rcat the volume of the small cylinder bs unity. Let R bo
the raUo to it of the receiver's volume, and L that of the Iom-
P essure cylinder. Let x be the required fraction of the stroke at
l\dl cut-oir i3 to occur in the large cylinder; and let p be the
™re at release from the small cylinder. As there is to be no
d ronT is also the pressure in the receiver at the beginning of
admissin to the larg'e cylinder. DnrJig that admission the volume
changes from 1 +R to l-x + K + xL, and the pressure at cut-off is
P(^+]Q Tho steam that remains ia now corn-
Its
and this, by
therefore - ^^^j^
pressed into the receiver, from volume l-K-^R to volume R
*■ , . ■ , y(l + K) (l-a: + K)
l>ressure therefore uses to i_^^ji + xh ' K
assumption, is to be equal to p. "We therefore have
(l-fR)(l-x + K) = Ka-=: + K + a:L),
whence is-(R-l-l)/(KL-fl).
Thus, ^vith R = l and L=3, cut-off should ^occur^_,in^fto_ large
lbs eo
fflform
irof
fort in
com-
annd
igniv.
Thus with R = l and L=3, cut-on sDouia occui lu ..i. .^.g^
cjHmle7at half-stroke ; with a greater cylinder ratio the cut-off
^'SiJ^rcdnllationUoracoinpound.engine.hosecran^^^
ri-ht angles, and in which cut-off occurs in the large cylinder before
half-stroke, shows that the condition of nodrop is secured when
2E(xL-l) = l-2V41-»^)- ,. ^ ,.
In some compound engines a pair of ^S'^-P'^^^^,!^'' />;i\f4^^,3t';
charge into a common receiver; m some a pair of low-pressure
yHnders are fed from a receiver which takes steam froni one h^h-
Wessure cylinder, or in some instances from two. With these
Sangements the pressure in the receiver may be kept much more
neai°f constant than is possible with the ordinary two-cylinder ty-pe.
116 An important mechanical advantage belongs to the com-
ronnd en<nne n the fact that it avoids the extreme thrust and puU
which would have to be borne by the piston-rod of asingle-cylmder
Inrine wo king at the same power with the same initia pressure
and the same "ratio of expansion. If all the expansion took pla o
in the low-pressure cylinder, the piston at the hegmn ng of the
s?roke would be exposed to a thrust much greater than Uie sum of
he thrusts on the two pistons of a compound engine in which a
fair proportion of the expansion is performed in the small cylinder.
ThunnTe tandem engiL of fig. 29 the S-'^tef .^"-°f *! 'S
■ will be found to amount to less than two-thirds of the thrust
whch'hekrge piston would be subjected to if the engine were
simple. The mean thrust throughout the stroke is of course not
affected by compounding; only the range_ of variation m the thrust
fa Tedueed The effort on the erank-pin is consequently made
Tnore uniform, the strength of the parts may be ^^f "^^ed "ind the
friction at slides and journals is lesr.ened. Ihe advantage in this
respect is obviously much greater when the cy inders are placed
^de by side, instead of tandem, and work on cranks at right angles
As a set-off to its advantage in giving a more uniform effort, .he
impound engine has the d?awba?k of rcqiiiring more working part.
^h^n a simple engine with one cylinder, ^u in many i'i=tances--a3
In marinlengincs-two cranks and two cylinders are almost indis-
™^ble to five a tolerably uniform effort and to get over the dead
K and the comparison should then be made between a pair of
sTple'cydinders ani a pair of compounded ey inders Anotli r
St in favour of the compound engine is that, although tbe whole
fatio of expansion is great, there need not be a very early cut-oft in
either cySder ; hence th^ common slide-valve, which is unsui ed
to rive an early cut-off, may be used in place of a more complete
IrrSaement The mechanical advantage of the compound engine
WonTbeen reco-nized, and had much to do with its adoption in
^ early day" o h§i-pressure steam." Its subsequent develoimicnt
h s bee^ dui in par! to^this, but .robably in much erjater part to the
thermodynamic advantage whic^i has been discussed above (§ 93)
m. Indicator diagr.ims taken from compound engines show that
tho transfer of steam from one a,j,j, "==»==^- ' ' •■'"T" ;'"!
cylinder to another is never,
under tho most favourable con-
ditions, performed without loss
of energy. Fig. 33 shows a pair
of diagrams from the two cylin-
ders o1' a tendem Woolf engine,
in which tho steam passed as - ^3
S't'o ?he^l°arg"cyUn"er The diagrams arc drawn to tho same
^U 0?" A. Td therefore to mer.^t scales of -^»'-. af he
W pressure diagram is turned round so that it mjirfijjintothe
"1 E^amplM of calculation, OcallnR with r«rtl<^"'«';»'-™XTo"Mr R sTnct"/.
three ci-Undor comi'ounj engine, will bo found In on Appends to Mr R. Sennclt
'^t":;a"Dr w:p"le??'on the Double CyUndor E.,»»nelv. Engine,"
Pnc. Inil. M.E.. 1862.
hi<rh-pre3suro diagram. There is some drop at the high-pressure
° release, and, apart from this, there is a loss
through friotion of tlio passages, which shows
itself by the admission lino to tho large cylinder
lying below the exhaust line from the small one.
118. Fig. 3i is a pair of diagrams taken from
a compound tandem re-
ceiver engine ninning at
60 revolutions per minute,
~» with cylinders SO inches
"" and 52 inches in diameter,
and with a 6-feet stroke.
_ The ratio of cylinder vol-
umes is therefore 3 to 1.
The capacity of the receiver
is nearly \\ times that of
— the small cylinder. There
Fig. 34. is a comparatively early
cut-off in both cylinders, and a nearly complete absence of drop.
The small cylinder, however, does more work than
the large one, in the ratio of nearly 3 to 2.
Fig 35 shows the same pair of diagrams combuicd ComUina-
bv drawing both to the same scale of volume and tion of dia-
of pressure, and by setting out each by an amount grams from
equal to the clearance space from the line of no compound
volume. This makes the expansion curve in each engines,
diagram represent correctly the relation of the pres-
sure to the absolute volume of the expanding steam.
The broken line is a continuous curve of adiabalii
expansion, drawn from the point of high-pressure
cut-off, on the assumption that the steam then con-
tained about 25 per cent, of condensed water. II
the expansion were actually adiabatic, and if there
were no loss m the
transfer of the steatn,
the expansion curves
for both cylinders
would fall into this
line.
119. Fig. 36 exhi-
Fio. 35.— Diagmms of fig. 34 combined. bits, in the same
manner as fig
the S.S.
35, a set of diagi-ams taken by Mr Kirk from the
triple expansion engines of the S.b. Aber-
deen " Each diagram is set out from the Imo
of no volume by a distance which represents
the clearance in the corresponding cylinder.
The boiler pressure is 125 lb per square inch.
The cylinders are 32 inches, 48 inches, and /O
inches in diameter, and the stroke is ij feet.
The cranks make 120° with each other. Iho
means of the diagrams for the two ends of
each cylinder have been used in drawing this
and tho next figure, a practice which should
be foUowed in drawing combined diagrams of
the kind here ex-
emplified.
120. Fig. 37
shows in the same
way a set of dia-
grams taken by
Mr Brock from the
quadruple expan-
Fig 3S. sion endncs of
"Lohara" (by Messrs Denny & Co.). Hero tlio boiler
„.,,.., pressure was 16* il> by
gauge, or 169 lb absolute,
the cylinders were 24
inches, 34 inches, 48 inches,
and 68 inches in diameter,
tho stroke was 4 feet, and
the number of revolutions
66 per minute.
121. In all of those cases
a continuous curve, shown
fig. 38.
by ft' broker
line, has been
_ drawn to ro-
present tho ro-
suit of nJ'»-
batic expansion, ontho same »/^^"'"P"°"r„\t„t:f'c'u\-^ff faX
contains about 25 per cent, of water at tho point ol cui
496
STEAM-ENGINE
first cylinder. The eiiuation to the curve may then be taken as
PV » == constant (§ 67). In the absence of dau regartUng the wet-
ness of the steam this assumption may be considered fair.
122. Lastly, fig. 38 shows a pair of diagrams, treated in the same
manner, for a two-cylinder compound engine with cranks at right
angles to each other, the high-pressure crank being 90° in advance.
During the back stroke of the high-pressure piston there is at first
compression into the receiver untO the large cylinder opens ; the
high-pressure diagram consequently takes a peculiar form, which
should be compared with the diagram already given for a tandem
engine (§ 118). In this example there is a considerable amount of
drop and also of loss between the two cylinders.
VII. The Pkodtjctiok OP Steam.— Boilers.
123. The first step in the production of steam is to convert the
potential energy of fuel into actual heat ; the second step is to
transfer the heat to water in the boiler. The efficiency of furnace
and boiler is the ratio which the amount of heat taken up by the
water bears to the whole potential energy of the fuel. In good
boilers this efficiency is about 07. The loss is due partly to
incomplete combustion of the fuel and partly to incomplete trans-
fer of heat from the products of combustion to the boiler water
Under the first head may be classed— (1) waste of fuel in the soUd
state by bad stoking, and (2) waste of fuel in the gaseous and
smoky states by imperfect combustion. Under the second head are
composed— (1) waste by external radiation and conduction, and (2)
waste by heat contained in the hot gases which escape by the chim-
ney, due (a) to their still high temperature and (6) to the fact that
they contam as one of the products of combustion steam-gas which
passes away uncondensed. Loss of heat by the hot gases is the most
important source of waste. Not only are the actual products of
combustion rejected at a high temperature, but along ivith them
goes the nitrogen of the air whose oxygen has been used, and also
a quantity of additional air which is needed to dUute the products
in order that combustion may be fairly complete. Roughly speak-
ing, about 12 lb of air are required to supply oxygen enough for the
combustion of 1 lb of coal. Over and above this quanta, about
l.i lb more generally pass through the furnace as air of dilution,
in lumaces with forced draught, in which the consumption of coal
per square foot of grate surface is much more rapid, the air of dilu-
tion may be reduced to half or less than half of this quantity, thou-^h
to some extent at the expense of completeness in the combustion!
.mfile^ ., ^^^ The extent to which heat is taken from the hot gases
• depends on the heating surface through which heat passes into the
water. The heating surface is made up of the surface of the fur-
nace or combustion-chamber, so far as that is brought into con-
tact with the water, and of the flues or tubes through which the hot
^ses pass on their way to the chimney. Its efficiency depends on
the conductivity of the metal, on the difference in temperature
between the gases on one side and the water on the other, and on
the ireedom TOth which steam, when fotmed, can escape from the
surface. Diflerences in specific conductivity and in thickness of
metal afiect the result less than might be expected, on account of
tlie resisUnce which is offered to the passage of heat through the
him of scale and also through the film of water vapour which forms
on the metalhc surface.
By extending the heating surface sufficiently the hot gases may be
deprived of heat to an extent which is only limited by the tempera-
ture of the boiler water. This temperature, however, need not form
a limit, for after leaving the boiler the gases may be further cooled
by being brought mto contact with a vessel termed a feed-water
heater, through which the feed- water passes on its way to the boUer
iven with a feed- water heater, however, the temperature of the hot
nr,n,i,f S='f„'/%''ever, lu practice, reduced so low as that of the boUer.
Draught. 125 In nearly aU land engines and most marme engines the
draught IS produced by means of a chimney, which acts in virtue
ot the column of air within it being specifically lighter than the
air outside so that the pressure >vithin the chimney at its base is
less than the atniosphenc pressure at the same level outside. The
composition of the chimney gases is such that they are heavier
than air at the same temperature, and to make them sufficiently
lighter to cause a draught they must retain a certain considerable
portion of their heat. On the other hand, if they are left too hot
the mass of air drawn through the furnace is actually diminished,"
smce then the .chimney gases are so much expanded that the
uicreased vo ume of the draught does not compensate for its
diminished density. With a given chimney and furnace the
maximum draught is obtained when the gases escape at a tempera-
ture about that of melting lead ; by making the chimney more
capacious a lower temperature wUl suffice to give the same draught
and this will of course increase the efficiency of the boiler. '
126. In place ofusing a chimney draught' depending merely on
the temperature of the rejected hot gases, the air required for com-
bustion and dilution may be forced through the furnace either by
producing a partml vacuum in the chimney or by supplying air to
the grate at a pressure higher than that of the atmosphere. lu
[PEODTTOTION OF STEAM.
locomotives, for example, a partial vacuum is produced in the
chimney by means of a blast of exhaust steam from the engine •
and in many naval and a few mercantile steamers a forced draught
IS produced by havmg a closed stokehole or a closed ashpit, which
IS supplied with air at a pressure above that of the atmosphere by
the use of a blowing fan.
If heat were thoroughly extracted from the products of com-
bustion, a forced draught would be more efficient, from the thermo-
dynamic pomt of view, than a chimney draught, for a chimney ia
in fact an extremely inefficient heat-engine, and requires a verv
large amount .of heat to be expended in order to effect tha
comparatively trifling work of maintaining the drau-^ht But
where forced draught has been substituted for chimney drau-rht
this has hitherto been done for the purpose of increasing not tha
efficiency but the power of boilers. The motive has been to burn
more coal per square foot of grate surface and so to evaporate more
water with a boiler of given weight. This is incompatible with
very high efficiency. When more coal is bunit by forcing the
draught it IS true that the products of combustion have a higher
temperature (since less air is required for dUution) and the effective-
ness ot the heating surface is therefore increased. But the heat-
ing surface has more hot gas to deal with, and the result is that
the boiler is less efficient than when the draught is not forced
ifie same efficiency could be secured, mth forced drauc^ht b^
mcreasmg the heating surface to a sufficient extent ; and a'stUT
greater efficiency could be realized if the heating surface were still
further enlarged so that the gases left the flues at a temperature
lower than would be needful if the draught depended on the light-
ness of the chimney's contents. The most efficient boiler would
be one in which the draught was forced by mechanical- means, and
the gases v.-ere then cooled as far as possible by contact with a very
extensive heating surface, first in the boiler itself and then in a
feed-water heater. None of the forced draught boilers that have
fiitherto been introduced have a heating surface so large as to -make
them more efficient than good chimney-draught boilers (in which
the rate of combustion is much slower), although the heatin"
surface bears a much larger ratio to the grate area than ia usual
with chimney draughts.
127. Most modern boilers are internaUy fired ; thai is to say, the BoUera
furnaces are more or less completely enclosed within the boiler, for eta-
ExtemaUy -fired boilers are for the most part much less efficient tionary
than internally fired boi ers ; they are, however, used to a consider- engine,
able extent where fuel is speciaUy cheap or where the waste heat
of other furnaces is to be utilized. Their usual form is that of a
horizonta cylinder with convex ends ; the strength both of the
mam shell and the ends is derived from their curvature, and no
Fig. 39.— Comiah Boiler; longitudinal section.
staying is necessary. The heating surface is entirely external
and is of very limited extent.
In large stationary boUers the forms known as the " Lancashire » Cfm,i,»
(or double flue) ^ottiis/
and the " Cor-
nish" (or sin-
gle flue) are
most common.
Figs. 39 arid
40 show in
section a Cor-
nish boiler by
Messrs Gallo-
way, and fig.
41 a Lanca-
shire boiler by
the same mak-
ers. In both
the shell is a
round horizon-
tal cylinder
with flat ends.
In the Cornish
boUer there is
one internal
flue, at the
front end of
which is the furnace. The hot gases pass through the flue to the
back ; they then return to the front end by two external side Baea
anil La^
cashir*
boilers
Fio. 40.— Cornish Boiler : trMsverse section, showing flue*.
BOILEBS.]
S T E A M - E N G I N i
4^7
(A, A, fig. 40), and finally pass to the back again by an nnclerneatli
flue B. ^Tlie arraagement in the Lancasliiio boiler is the same, ex-
cept that there are two internal flues, each with its own furnace.
The shell is made up of rings of riveted plates, larger and smaller in
diameteralternately to
allow the circiiiiifercn-
lial seams to be made
without bending the
edges. The flue is
made up of a series of
welded rings, joined
to each other by a
flanged joint with a
stiffening ring. This
form of joint was in-
troduced by Mr Adam-
son to stiffen the flue
«gainst collapse un-
der external pressure.
Other joints, designed
with the same object,
are shown in figs. 42
and 43. The grate is
made up of firebars, Fio. 41.— Lancashire Boiler
sloping down towards tlis back, where they terminate at the
" brid-re " of fire-brick (C, fig. 39). Beyond the bridge the flue is
erosseij by a number of taperod "Galloway" tubes D, D, which
increase the heating surface, promote circulation of the water, and
•tiffen the flue. The end plates are strengthened by gusset stays
Transverse Secllon.
r^ i^n
Fios. 42 luid 43.— Joints for Fiirnoce Talies,
4, E, riveted to them and to the circumference of the shell by
n'eans of angle-irons. The gusset.stays ilo not extend so far in as
ic the circun°fereiice of the flue (fig. 40), in order that the end plates
may retain enough flexibility to allow the flue to expand and
contract under change of temperature. To provide for unequal
expansion is one of the most important points in the design of
boilers ; when it is neglected the boiler is subjected to a racking
action which induces leakage at joints and tends to rupture the
idates. For this reason the flue is attached to the boiler shell at
the ends only, so that it may be free to take an upward camber in
consequence of the greater heating of the upper side.
Mild steel is now very generally used for boiler plates, being
superior even to the best Yorkshire iron in the qualities of ductility
and tensile strength. The following particulars refer to the Lanca-
ehire boiler of fig. 41, which may be taken as representative of a large
' number of stationary boilers.
' 128. The shell is 28 feet long and 7 feet in diameter, and is made
up of 9 rings, each of two semi. cylindrical plates. The shell plates
are i inch thick ; their edges are planed and fullered, and the rivet
holes are drilled. The longitudinal .seams, which break joint from
f ring to ring, are lap-joints double-riveted; the circular seams are
single-riveted. Each end i)late is a solid piece of steel 4 inch
thick ; the front plate is attached to the shell by riveting to an
nnMe ring ; the back plate is flanged. The flues are each 2 feet 9J
inches in diameter,
made up of rings of
steel 3 inch thick; the
longitudinal joints
are welded and the
circular joints are
flanged and strength-
ened with stiffening
rings. The flues are
tapered somewhat at
the back end to facil-
itate expansion, and
are attached to the
end plates by welded
angle -rings. • Each
flue contains 5 Gallo-
tance along tlic boiler, distribnting tba water by holes throngtionl
tho length. A pipe at the same level on the other side serves ta
collect scum. Tho fire doors are pro-
vided with sliding shutters by means ot
which tlie amount of air admitted abovr
w.iy tubes, tapering from
lOJ inches diameter at
top to 54 inches at bot-
tom. On the top ot the
boiler is the manhole,
covered with a cast-iron
plate ; also a nozzle for
the steam-pipa and two
others for safety-valves.
One of the safety-valves
is connected with a float
BO that it opens if the
water.lcvel becomes too
low. At the bottom, in
front, is another nozzle
for the blow-out tap ; and
Fio. 48.— Calloway Boiler: Secllon beyoiH th» BriJgo-
Fio. 45.— Lever Safety-V»lvr.
the fire may be regulated. On the top of each fur.
nace is fitted a fusible ping which melts if the
furnace crown becomes overheated. No separate Bte.am dome li
used ; the steam is coUected by an "anti-priming' pipe shown la
fig. 44, which also
illustrates the stop-
valve by which the
delivery of stenm
from the boiler is
started or stopped
at will. On the
Iront plate are a
pair of glass gauge-
tubes for showing
the water-level, and
a Bourdon pres-
sure-gauge. This
last important fit-
ting consists of a
bent tube of oval
section, one end of
which is closed and
free to move while
the other is open
to the steam and is
fixed. The pres-
sure within the tube
tends to straighten
it, and the extent
to which this takes place is shown by a pointer which travels ovet)
a circular dial. A common lever safety-valve is shown in fig. 45^,
In other forms the valve is kept down by a weight directly applie(lj
to it, or by means of springs. Spring safety-valves are liahJa ta
the objection that when the valve opens «=»
the load on ic increases; to remedy this, ' — ~i
forms have been proposed in which the
spring acts through a bent lever in such
a way that when the
strain on it increases
the leverage at
which it acts is re-
duced. Ifthespring
is of reasonable
length, however, the
objection is not seri-
ous.
129. A modifica-
tion of the Lanca-
shire type — the
"Galloway" boiler
— is shown in sec-
tional elevation in
fig. 46. In it tho
two flues are joined
beyond the bridge
into a single flue,
of the form shown
in the figure, which
is traversed by nu-
merous Galloway
tubes and is also
fitted with water
Fio. 43.— Vertlol Bollor
with Horizont»l \V«tcr
Tubes.
Fio. 44.— Anll-Pllmlng ripe anJ btop-V»lv«.
in tho front plate below the flues is another manhole. Feed-water
is supplied by a pipe which enters through tho front plate on one
tide, near tho top of tho water, and extends for a considerable dis-
22—19
pockets at its sides. ''"'■„f -"J"""' ?""" .
*_„-,, ., wUh VcrUcal Wutcr S
130. In other Tubes,
types of boiler an ,
extensive bcatini,' surf.icc is obtained by the use of a largo number
of sm:ill tubes through' which the hot gases pass. This constnic-
tioii is universal in locomotive and marine boilers. It 19 applied
in »nmo instances to boilers of tho ordinary cylindrical forni by
making small tubes take tho place of thai pirt of tho flue or flues
which lies behind the bridge, or ky using small tubes a« channels
through which tho gases retam from back lo front after passing
through the main flue. Another form of tubular boiler is on exter-
nally tired horizontal cylinder fitted with tubes which carry thahot
gRscs from tho back to th« front.
498
STEAM-ENGINE
[boilbbs.
181. Vertical boilere are extensively used in connexion with small
engines. Examples are shown in figs. 47-49. Fig. 48 is an ordinary
vertical boiler filled with cross tubes of the Galloway type. Fig.
47 (by Messrs Davey, Paxman, & Co.) is a boiler with
curved water tubes, each of wliicli has fitted in the top a
• loose cap whose function is to deflect the
stream of water which circulates up the
tubes. Fi^- 49 is a form of multitubular
boiler by the same makers, in which the
hot gases escape at the side after passing
from the smol;e-box through horizontal
tubes grouped in circular arcs. In all
these boilers the grate is at the foot, and
the fire-door is at a mouthpiece iu the side
of the boiler near the base. " In'other
forms of vertical boiler the
heating surface is increased |\ i
Fio. 49.— Vertical Boiler :
Tubular Foi-m.
jieaiiug Bunace is iiiuieaseu i\
by water tubes (6g. 50) which _J^
hang from the crown of the
fire-box, closed at the lower
end but fitted internally with
smaller tubes which are open
at the bottom. Water circu-
lates do\ra the inner tubes
and up between them and the
outer. Tubes of this kind
(called Field tubes) are used
in tire-engine boilers and in
other ca.^es where it is neces-
sary to get up steam with the
least possible delay. Vertical
boilers of large size are some-
times used lor utilizing the
waste heat of iron furnaces.
Fic. .10,—
FivM Tube.
Sectional 132. A great variety of boilers have been designed in which the
or ' firing is external, and the water space consists of groups of tubes or
iubalous other small sections whose outer surface is exposed to heat. Boilers
boilers, of this type are called sectional or tubulous boiU-rs, in distinction to
tubular boilers, or boilers with tubes in which the hot gases circu-
late. A successful example of the tubulous or
"X sectional type is the Balicock k Wilcox water-
-f tnbe boiler, which consists of a series of in-
clined welded tubes up which water circuTatea,"* Those are joined
at their ends by cast-iron connecting boxes to one auother and to a
horizontal drum on the top in which the mixture of etoam and water
which rises from the tubo undergoes separation. At the lowest point
of the boiler is another drum for the collection of sediment Root's
boiler is another in which water is heated by circul.iting through
inclined tubes exposed to the fire; it differs from the above form
chiefly in having the water-level below the top of the tiibt.
Hiiriison's boiler is a group of smaU glolinlar vcsseU of cast-irou
strung like beads on rods which tie them together. Sectional
boilers may be constructed without difficulty to bear pressures
greatly in excess of those for which other types are suited. Mr
Perkins has employed a tubulous boiler to deliver steam at a
pressure of 500 lb per square inch.' The Herrefihof boiler is a
contiuuous coil of tube, arranged as a dome over tlie fire. Feed-
water is pumped slowly through the coil, and turns to steam
before it reaches the end.
133. The locomotive boiler consists of a nearly rectangular fire-
box, enclosed above and on the sides by water, and a cylindrical
part called the barrel extending horizontally from the fire-box to
the front part of the locomotive and filled with numerous tubes.!
Figs. 51 and 52 show in longitudinal and transverse section a
lioiler of the London and North Western Railway, which may he
taken as typical of modern English practice.
The barrel is 10 feet long and a little more than 4 feet in
'diameter, and is made up of three rings of steel plates, -^ inch
thick, arranged telescopically. It contains 198 brass tubes, each
IJ inches in external diameter. The front tube-plate iu which the
tubes termiuato is of steel f inch thick ; it is stayed to the back
tube-plate-by the tubes themselves, and the upper part of the front
tube-plate is also tied by longitudinal rods to the back end-plate.
Tlie tire-box i.s of copper 4 inch thick. It is nearly rectangular,
nith a horizontal gr.ate. (A grate sloping down in front is often
preferred.) Round its sides, front, and back (except where the
fire-door interrupts) is a water space about 3 inches wide, which
narrows slightly towards the bottom. The flat sides of the fire-box
are tied to the fiat sides of the shell by copper stay-bolts, 4 inches
apart, which are secured by screwing them into both plates and
riveting over the ends. The roof of the fire-box is stiffened by a
number of girders on the top, to which the plates are secured by
short bolts. Tlie girders are themselves hung from the top of the
ahell above them by slings which are secured ta angle-irons riveted
on the inside of the shell plates. A sloping bridge of fire-brick
partially separates the upper part of the fire-box from the lower
and prevents the flame from striking the tubes too directly.
Under the grate is an ashpan, to which the supply of air is
regulated by a damper in front. The fire-door opens inwards, and
can be setmore or less open, to regulate the amountof air admitted
above the fire. On tpp of the barrel is a steam-dome, from which
the steam supply is t.iKen through a pipe S traversing the forward
part of the steam space and passing down to the valve-chest
through the smoke-box. The stop- valve or "regulator" R is situ-
ftterl in the smoke-box, and is worked by a rod through the boiler
from the cab at the back. Above the fire-box end of the shell are
a pair of Ramsbottom safety-valves. V,V — two valves pressed down
by a single spring attached to the middle of a cross bar, which is
prolonged to form a hand lever by which the valves may be lifted.
In front of the forward tube-plate is the smoke-box, containing
the blast-pipe B by which the exhaust steam is used to produce
a partial vacuum and so force a draught through the furnace.
134. Instead of stiffening the fire-box roof by the use of girder
stays, the plan is sometimes followed of staying it directly to the
shell above. The outer shell above the fire-bnx is generally )
cylindrical; but to facilitate this method of staying it is sometimes
made flat. This construction is not unusual in American loco-
motive boilers, another feature of which is that the grate is made I
much larger than in English practice, for the purpose of burning-
anthracite co.ah An extreme instance is furnished hy the Wooton
engines of the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad, which burn
small coal of poor quality in a fire-box 9* feet long by 8 feet wide,
extending over the trailing wheels of the engine. In some cases
the fire-box is divided by a sloping partition of plates with water
betweeji, which crosses the fire-box diagonally from front to back
and has in its centre an opening resembling a fire-door mouthpiece to
allow the products of combustion to pass. In others the fire-bridge
is supported by water tubes, and water tubes are also used as gi-ate-
bars. This is done rather to promote circulation of the water than
to give heating surface. The practice of American and English
locomotive engineers differs widely as regards the materials of con-
struction. American shells are of mild steel, English shells gone
' Pioc. Intl. Mfch. Eno., 1877. Sec also a paper bjf Wr Flunncry.
PieMute Steam Boilers." ^fir^, Proe. luit. C.£., 1879.
' On Hlclt.
BOILERS.J
S T E A I\f - E N Ct I N E
499
raUy of niiia steel but often of wrouglit-iron. In English practir c
the fire-boxes are of copper and the tubes of brass ; iii America tUo
ere-boxes are of mild steel aud the tubes of wrought-ivou.
The locomotive tvpe of boiler is used for statiouary engines of
the portable, Bemi-portable, and semifixed types, and also to a
limited extent for marine engines in cases were Ughtncss is ol
special advantage. „ i„„„
186 So long as marine engines used steam of a pressure less
than about 36 ft per square inch the marine bcJiler was generally a
box with flat sides, elaborately stnyej, with a row of internal
fmiiacos near the bottom opening into a gpacioos combustion-
clumber enclosed within the boiler at the back, and a set of return
tubes leading from the upper part of the chamber to the front ol
the boiler, where the products of combustion entered the uptake
and passed oB" to the funnel. The use of higher pressures ha»
made this form entirely obsolete. The normal m.nrin6 boiler la
now a short circul.ir horizontal cylinder of steel with flat enda,
with internal furnaces in cylindrical (lues, internal combnstion-
Fig. 53.
Fjos. 53,' 54.— DoDblc-EndiMl Marine Boiler.
Fig. 54.
chambers, and return tubes above the flues. In one variety, called
the double-ended boiler, there are furnaces at both ends of the
shell each pair leading to a combustion-chamber in the centre that
is common to both, or to separate central chambers with a water
space between them.
Figs. 53 and 54 show with some completeness a dbuble-ended
marine boiler of the most modern construction for high-pressure
steam. At each end there are three furnaces in flues made of
welded corrugated steel plates. The use of corrugated plates for
flues, introduced by Mr Fox, m^kes thin flues able to resist
collapse, and allows the flues to accommodate themselves easily
' to changes of temperature. One combustion-chamber is common
to each pair of furnaces. It is strengthened on the top by girder
stays and on the sides by stay-bolts to the neighbouring chamber
and to the ihell. The tubes are of iron, and a ccrtnin number
of them aro fitted with nuts so that they servo as stays be-
tween thi tube-plate of the combustion-chamber and the front
of the boiler. The upper part of the front plate is tied to the
opposite end of the boiler by long stays. The uptakes from both
ends converge to the funnel base above the centre of the boiler s
length. The boiler shown is one of a pair, which lie side by side
in tlic vessel, the uptake at each end being common to both. Each
boiler has a steam-dome, from which the ste.am-pipe leads to the
engine; this consists of a small cylindrical vessel, with flat ends
tied together by a central stay. Short pipes connect the dome
near each end with the steam space of the main shell. The boilers
of figs. 63 and 54, which are by Jlessrs Oourlay Brothers of
Dundee, work at a pressuro of 165 lb per square inch above the
atmosphere, ond are used with triple cxpnnsion engines. The
shell IS 12i feet in diameter, aud llii feet long. Tlio plates are
of mild steel U inc\\Qa thick round the shell and 1 inch in
the ends. The tube plates are 5 inch and H iiu'h thick, and
the corrugatwl flues i iuch. The longitudinal scams are treble-
riveted, wilh inside and ouUido covering plates. The circum-
ferenHal seams are lap-ioiiiU doublc-iiveted. There are 127 tubes
at each end, 46 of which are stay-tulics. The tubes are of iron, 34
inches in external diameter. Above these are 18 longitudinal steel
1 See .■> i)«ier l.y Mr Femlc, ilin. Proe. Iiul. V.B, 1883.
stays 2J inches in diameter. The steam-dome is a cylinder 2J
feet in diameter and 8 feet long, stayed
by a central 34-inch rod of steel. The l
short fire-box stays are also of steel 1 i ^ t
inches in diameter, of 7 J inches pitch; ^ i*
and are secured by nuts and washers at
both ends. The central combustion-
chamber has a round
and unstayed roof.
anu unsrayeu ruoi. _^.^
The top of each side g^ ,'''< '^, f
combustion • chamber '\\^J
is stayed by three
steel girders 8| inches
X 2i inches in sec-
tion, secured by four
bolts to the roof-
plate below. A single-
ended marine boiler
by the same makers
is shown in fig. 55.
Boilers of this class
are in some instances
set athwartahip in-
stead of longitudin-
ally, and bevelled on
the bottom, at the
bock, to accommo-
date them to tho
shape of the hull. A
moaification of tho
cylindrical form is
occasionally used, in
Fio (.5.— SlngloEnatit Marino BoUer.
^i^^riSirin oval. With rour^ top and l^Uom
the section is an ovai, wiiii iuu..v. .^r — "r „itl, r»..niliiil
sides. Tlie combnstion-chambere are sometime, '"•f 'jf ' ™"°r'
tops, which are tied to tho back plate by g"^»'; ;»'7' "-^/J^
irons In naval pr.iclice the tubes are frciuoi.tly of """" Z"^™
n place of iron. ' Another form of boiler, used to a <=•""•>! '^;'''^*
Ixtc';^ in the British navy, is a long horl.oot.U cy.iuder «Uh tw,
500
*
Jntemal furnaces opening into a large combustion-chamber about
the middle of the length. From tliis a set of tubes distributed over
nearly the whole water space extend to the back, where tlie uptake
Is situated.
136. The locomotive type of boiler has been successfully adap-
ted to marine use by Mr Thornycroft and others, especially for
torpedo boits. This form gives much greater heating surface than
others in proportion to its weight, and allows, especially when
worked with forced draught, a large amount of power to be got
from a small boiler. It is probable that, if any further rise is to
occur in the steam pressure used in marine engines, comparable to
thas which has occurred during the last two or three years, the
present normal marine boiler wul give place to a form more nearly
/esembling the locomotive type.
137. toilers are usually fed either by a feed-pump driven by the
engine, or by a distinct auxiliary engine called a " donkey," or by
4n injector. 'The injector, invented by the.late JI. Giffard, and now
verjf generally used on locomotive and other boilers, is illustrated
In fig. 66. Steam enters from the boiler at A and blows through an
mnular orifice B, the size o{ which
(a regulated by the handle C: The
feed-water flows in at D, and meeting
the steam at B causes it to condense.
This produces a vacuum at B, and
consequently the water rushes in with
great velocity, and streams down
through the combining nozzle I, its
velocity being augmented by the im-
pact of steam on the back of the
column. In the lower part of the
nozzle E the stream expands ; it there-
lore loses velocity, and, by a well-
known hyjjrodynamic principle, gains
pressure, until at the bottom its pres-
sure is so great that it enters the boiler
through a check-valve which opens
only in the direction of the stream.
The escape orifice F and the overflow
j)ipe G allowthe injector to start into,
»ction, by providing a channel through
Which steam end water may escape be-
fore the stream acquires enough energy
to force its way into the boiler. The
opening for admitting water between
D and B is regulated by the wheel H.
The exhaust-steam injector works by
etcam from the exhaust of non-con-
densing engines, instead of boiler
steam. The steam orifice is then
larger in proportion to the other parts,
•nd the steam supply more liberal. In self-starling injectors an
arrangement is provided by which overflow will take place freely
until the injector starts into action and then the openings are auto-
matically adjusted to suit delivery into the boiler. One plan of
doing this is to make the combining nozzle under the steam rrifice
in a piece which is free to slide in the outer casing. Until the
Injector starts it lies at some distance from the steam orifice, and
allows free overflow ; but when the vacuum forms it rises, in conse-
quence of pressure at the base. In self-adjusting injectors this rise
of the combining nozzle is made use of to contract the water-way
round the steam orifice. In another form of self-starting injector
one side of the combining nozzle is in the form of a hinged flap,
opening backwards to allow overflow, but closing up when a vacuum
is formed and the injector starts into action.* Weir's hydrohinetcr
for large marine boilers is another apparatus in which the principle
of the injector is made use of, with the object of promoting circula-
tion of the water during the time steam is being raised. It con-
lists of a series of nozzles, with water-inlets between them, through
which water is drawn by means of a central jet of steam supplied
(mm a donkey boiler.
138. In stationarv engine boilers the feed-water Is frequently
heated. by the products of combustion before these reach the
chimney, in what is virtually an extension of the boiler itself.
Green's economizer is a contrivance for this purpose, in which
the water passes through tubes whose outer surface is e-tposed to
, the hot gases and kept clear of deposited soot by the continuous
iction of a mechanical scraper. In locomotives and other non-
wndensing engines a portion of the exhaust steam is frequently
pade nse of to heat the feed-water. When an exhaust-steam
lyeotor is employed it serves the purpose of a feed-water heater as
feU as that of a feed-pump. Besides increasing the efficiency of
he boiler by utilizing what would otherwise be waste heat, a
feed-water heater has the advantage that by raising the tempera-
pre of the water it removes air, and also, in the case of liard
rater, causes lime and other substances held in solution to be
STEAM-ENGINE
[boileba:
To Bo<iar
Fio. 58.— Glffard's Injector.
> Sea p>peri In Prot. tnti, Huh. At;., 1S60, 1866, 1884.
i
deposited in the heater instead of beine carried into the boiler,
where they would form scale. In Weirs feed-heater for marinn
engines the temperature of the feed-water is raised to about 200*
Fahr. by injecting steam from the intermediate receiver.
139. In stationary and marine boilers the steam, after leaving
the boiler, is frequently taken through a separator, the function
of which is to separate the dry steam from particles of water held
in suspension. Steam is Jed round a sharp corner, and the water
particles thrown off by centrifugal force collect in a trap below,
from which they are discharged by a pipe which is kept open so
long as the trap contains water, but is closed by a valve at the foot
when the trap is empty. Traps are also fitted in many cases to
steam-pipes lor the purpose of returning condensed water to the
boiler.
140. To prevent corrosion in boilers it is very usual to introduce
blocks of zinc in metallic connexion with the shell. These are set
in the water space, preferably at places where corrosion has beea
found specially liable to occur. Their function is to set up a
galvanic action, in which zinc plays the part of the negative
element, and is dissolved while the metal of the shell is kept'
electro-positive. Otherwise there would be a tendency for difl'erence
of electric quality between diff'erent parts of the shell to set up
galvanic actions between the parts themselves, by which some parts,
being negative to others, would be attacked. The zinc raises the
potential of the whole shell enough to make all parts positive.
141. Allusion has already been made to the system which is Foro
universal in locomotive boilers of forcing the draught by a blast of draoi
exhaust steam in the chimney. A jet of boiler steam is occasion-
ally used in marine furnaces for the same purpose ; but of late years
the system which h^s found most favour is to box in the stokehole
and keep the air in it at a pressure of from 1 to 3 inches of water
by the use of blowing fans. This system has been applied largely
in naval practice, with the result that the power of the boiler is
increased in the ratio of about 3 to 2, or even more, as compared
with its power under chimney draught. The efficiency of the ooller
is, in general, slightly but not very materially reduced. . An ordi-
nary marine boiler burns 16 to 20 lb of coal per hour per square
foot of grate with natural draught, and 30 lb or more with forced
draught In torpedo-boat boilers of the locomotive type the con-
sumption has in some cases been forced to morp than 100 16.
In Mr Howden's system of forced draught the stokehole is
open," and air is supplied by a blowing fan to a reservoir formed by
enclosing the ashpit and also to another reservoir from which it
gets access to the grate above and through the fire-door. On its
way to the reservoir the air is heated by passing across a part of
the uptake in which the hot gases from the furnace are led through
tubes. This method of restoring to the furnace what would other-
wise be waste heat forms an interesting alternative to the method
of restoring heat to the boiler by passing the hot gases through a
feed-water heater ; it is in fact an application to boiler furnaces of
the regenerative principle alluded to in chap. II."
1142. Many appliances have been devised for the mechanical snp- Mecl
ply of coal to boiler furnaces, but these have hitherto taken the cal
place of hand-firing to only a very limited extent. In Juckes's stoki
furnace the fire-bars are in short lengths, jointed by pins to form a,
continuous chain or web, which rests on rollers and is caused to
travel slowly in the direction of the furnace's length by pin-wheels
round which t'ae web is carried at the front and back. Coal is
allowed to drop continually on the travelling grate from a hopper
in front of the furnace. A more usual form of mechanical stoker
is a reciprocating shovel or ram, supplied from a coal-hopper, which
throws or pushes a small quantity of coal into the fire at each
stroke. Along with this devices are employed for making the grate
self-cleansing, by giving alternate fire-bars a rocking or sliding
motion through a limited rsuge. In Mr Crampton's dust-fuel fur- Dnst
nace the coal is ground to powder and fed by rollers into a pipe from fuel.
which it is blown into the furnace by an air-blast. The mixture
of fuel and air is so intimate that the excess of air required for
dilution is only one-fifth of the amount required for combustion.*
A similar advantage attends the use of gaseous fuel, and of liquid
fuel that is blown into the furnace in the form of spray^ ~
_ 143. The use of liquid fuel for boilers has of laio ocquiii:a >.-or.-
siderablo importance in conne,\ion with the discovery of crude
petroleum, in largo quantity, at Baku on the Caspian Sea. The
petroleum refuse which is left after distilling paraffin from the
crude oil forms an exceedingly cheap fuel, with a calorific value
per lb about one-third greater than that of coal. It has now super-
seded coal in tho steamers of the Caspian, aud has been largely
employed for locomotives in the south-eastern part of Russia. The
oil is injected in the form of spray near tho foot of the fire-box by
a steam jet arranged in such a way that air will be drawn into the
furnace along with the petroleum. In the arrangement for burn-
ing petroleum used ia Russian locomotives by Sir T. Urquhar^
the flamo impinges on a structure of firebrick, built in the fire-boX)
- The methods and results of these systems of forcing draught are ducrltica
.1 f.ipers read befoie ihe Instltiilloo of Navi; Archlteota, Aprli 1686,/
» fnc. Jnit. Mcch. Kng., 1869.
DISTBIUUTIOS OF STEAM.]
S T E A INI - E N G I N E
501
h,,th numerons openings to allow the pvoducts of <;»7'>»l,t;?" ^^^^If;
fuse ihemselves throughout the combust.on -chamber, l^^f^f
r^inst too intense action on the metallic surfaces, and at the same
Ze serves as a reservoir of heat to rekindle the flame . combustion
Srmtttent. In getting up steam an auxiliary boiler .s used to
supply the jet. "^
VIII. The DisTRiBUTioy of Steam.— Valves and Valve
Motions.
1 44 In eaily steam-engines the distribation of steam was effected
t,y means of conical valves, worked by tappets from « /o'l J^-h'^h
bun" from the bea>n. The slide-valve, the n.vention of which ,n
the form now known as the long D-slide is credited to Murdoch, an
,a«istant of Watt, cume into general use with the .ntroduction of
locomotives, and is now employed, in one or other of many forms,
in the great majority of en fjines. . .„ ^ » i ;„ fi„
The common or locomotive slide-valve is illustrated in fig.
167. The seat, or surface on which the valve slides, is a plane
isurface formed on or
'fixed to the side of the
cylinder, witli three
portsor openings, which
extend across the great- 67.-Common SlWe-Valve.
. ^X; dtt 'TL^c^n?;al opening is the ex-.-t^port through wh^li
the steam escapes ; the others, or steam ports, which aie narrower,
lead to the two
ends of the cylin-
der respectively.
The valve is a
box-shaped cover
which slides over
the seat, and
the whole is en-
closed in a cham-
ber called the
valve - chest, to
which steam from
the boiler is ad-
mitted. When
the valve moves a
eufficient distance
to either side of
the central posi-
tion, steam enters
one end of the
cylinder from the
■valve-chest and
escapes from the
ether end of the
cylinder through
the cavity of the
\eteM89
•
of the piston ; in other words, the eccentric radius would make s
ri'-ht angle with the crank. Expansive working, however, becomes
possible when we give the valve what is called " lap," by making it
project over the edges of the steam jiorts, as in lig. 61 , where o n
the " outside lap" and i is the " inside lap." Admission of steam
(to either side) then begins only when the displacement of the valve
from its middle position exceeds the amount of the outside lap,
and continues only until tho valve has returned to the same dis-
tance from its middle position. Further, exhanst begins only whea
the valve has moved past the middle by a distance equal to i, and
continues until the valve has again returned to a distance « from
its middle position. Thus on the diagram of the eccentric s tiavel
(fig. 62) we find, by setting olT o and t
on the two sides of the centre, the posi-
tions a, b, c, and d of the eccentric
radius at which tho four events of ad-
mission, cut-off, release, and compres-
sion occur for one side of the piston.
As to the other side of the piston, it is sh-
only necessary to set off o to the right
and t to the left of the centre, but for
the sake of clearness we may confine
our attention to one of the two sides. ,^
Of the whole revolution, the part from i<^'"""'
(I to 6 is the arc of steam admission,
from 6 to c is the arc of expansion,
from c to d the arc of exhaust, and from d io a the arc of compres^
sion. The relation of these, however, to the piston s motion is still
undefined. If the eccentric were set in advance of the crank by an
angle equal to ACa, the opening of the valve would be coincident,
wilh the beginning of the piston's stroke. It is, however, desirable,:
in order to allow the steam free entry, that the valve be already soma
way open when the piston stroke begins, and thus the eccentric may
be set to have a position Ca' at the beginning of the stroke In hat
case the valve is open at the beginning of the stroke to the extent
mm', which is called the " lead." The amount by which the ang u!
between Ca' (the eccentric) and CA (the crank) exceeds a "g''.'^"!-;''
is called the angular advance, this being the angle by which the
eccentric is set in advance of the position it would occupy if the
primitive arrangement without lap were adopted. The quantitie*
lap, lead, and angular advance (B) are connected by the e.iuation
outside lap -I- lead = half travel x cos 9.
An effect of' lead is to cause preadmission, that is to say. admis- Crapl.l.
sion before the end of the back stroke, which, together with the methoO,
compression of steam left in the cylinder when the exhaust port of find-
closes, produces the mechanical etlect of " cushioning, to which mgth.
refcRftiee has already been made. To examine the dBtnbutioii of .l,stnb»
steam throughout the piston's stroke, we may now draw a circ e to tion M
represent tht path of t^e crauk pin (fig. 63, where the doited lines steamj
I Corrtpretiion^
Flc 02.
Fio. 5S.— Ecc«ntric.
Fig. M.
valve into the exhaust-port The valve is generally moved by an
eccentric on the engine-shaft (fig. 58), which is mechanically equiva-
lent to a crank whose radius is equal to the eccentricity or distance
of 0 tho centre of the shaft, from P, the centre of the eccentnc
eheave. The sheave is encircled by a strap forming the end of the
eccentric rod, and the rod is connected by a pin-joint to the valve-
rod, which comes out of the valve-chest through =---^
a steam-tight stuffing-box. The eccentric rod
is generally so long that tho motion of the
valve is sensibly the same as that which it
would receive were the rod infinitely long.
Thus if a circle (fig. 59) be drawn to represent
the path of the eccentric centre during a revolu-
tion of the engine, and a perpendicular PM bo
drawn from any point P on a diameter AB,
the disUnce CM is the displacement of the valve from >^ ">.>'' "«
position at the time when tho eccentric centre is at P. Ali is ino
whole travel of the valve. .. ,
145. If the valve when in its middle position did not overlap
tho steam ports (fig. 60), any movement to the right or the lelt
would admit steam, and the admission would continue until the
valve had returned to iU middle position, or, in other words, for
half a revolution of
tho engine. Such a
valve would not
serve for expansive
working, ana as re- -,
gards the relative po.
rition of tho crank
and eccentric it
would have to be .
eet so that its middle position coincided with the extreme position
I See a puper by Mr T. Ornnhart. Uin. Proc. Intt. O.B.. 1884: >|M EtmnMritig,
anna 11-3}, ISM.
Fio. CO.— Slide- Valve
without Lap.
Fio. 01.— Sllilc-Vnlva
with Lap.
Flu. '3.
have been added to show the assnmed configuration of piston, con-
necting-rod, and crank) and transfer to it from the former diagram
the angular positions a, b, e, and d at which the four events occur
To facilitate this transfer the diagrams of eccentric path and of
crank-pin path may by a suitable choice of scales be drawn of the
same actual size. Then by projecting these points on a dmmeter
which represents the piston's path, by circular arcs drawn with a
radius equal to tho length of the con- -,
necting-rod, wo find p, the position ^^
of the piston at which admission
occurs during the hack stroke, also
q and r, the position at cut-olT and re-
lease, during the stroke which t.akos ^^^.,„,
place in tho direction of tho arrow, '^
and s, the point at which compression
begins. It is obviously unnecessary
to draw tho two circles of figs. 62 and Fig. ci.
63 separately ; tho single diagram ,• . i, ,; „ „iil, «
(C. 64) contains the solution of the steam distribution with *
slido-vi. vo whoso laps, travel, and angular advance are k"""". 'hj
same circle serving, on two scales, to show the motion of the cranW
""^46^ tmSof representing graphically t^o ^tions^f^alv;
and piston motion, sometimes convenient in .<1'^»''"^ ^' ;. ^' '/t".
ccars of a more complex character than the single occehtuc, is t«
^"o«% valve's an'^d the Pi'l"'^-''- ^-.X^^rS Uin"
right angles to each other, as m fig. 65, '"o J»"" ' ' (^^f „f ^,
il^"^e^:ri^ :n^jc.;;tr^'^hK -- - •-
602
STEAM-ENGINE
Heara dbtribution are (letermfnca by drawing lines AB aud CD
barallel to the piston's path and Uis- -
«ant from it by the amount of tho
Sutside and inside lap respectively. v\ : ' \!
JTien (I, b, % and d, and tha corre- ff^ — ' ' '*
^nding points p, q, r, and s deter- *;;
oine the four events as in former ^^
iagrams. Fig. 65 shows at a glance I j
he amount of steam-opening at any /•„«,»-«.ri
^^*. °, . ^^".2? °^ admission. Fio. es.-Oval Diagram of SUde.
VE IS the lead. - The erents for the Valve .Motion.
ither side of the piston are determined by drawing AB above and
SD below the middle line.
147._ The graphic construction most usually employed in sliJe-
'alve investigations is the ingenious diagram published by Dr G.
Jeuner in the Civilingcnicur ia 1866.' On the
line AB (fig. 66), which represents the travid
if the valra, let a pair of circles (called valve-
circles) be drawn, each with diameter equal
•;o the half, travel. A radius vector CP,
Irawn in the direction of the eccentric at any
tostant, is cut by one of the circles at Q, so
"that CQ represen ta the corresponding displace-
Tient of the valve from its middle posuion. - ig. uo.
That this is so will be seen by di-awing PJI (as in fig. 59) and ioin
>ng QB, when it is obvious that CQ = CM, which is the displace-
ment of the valve. The line AB with the circles on it may now be
mmed back through an angle of 90° + 9 (fl being the angular
idvance), so that the valve-circles take the position shown °to a
««rger scale in fig. 67. This makes the direction of CQ (the
[VALVEa AND
Fig. 66.
no. S7 — ^Zenner'B Slide- Valve
Dtain'am.
iccentnc) coincide on the paper with the eimultaneous direction of
«;!;t^^ f **?^ ^'""f '" ^l^ '■'« displacement of the valve at any
oosition of the crank we have only to draw CQ in fig. 67 parallel
to the crank, when CQ represents the displacement of the valve to
»he scale on which the diameter of each valve circle represents the
L^'n^I! J ti ' 7^ "'• V ^'^'> " '•>« ^"'"^ displacement at the
iJ^riw L P "^"''^\ ''""'? ''.^v""' ""'"'■ D'»w circular arcs
. .tr fl • -P "? ''°.'''' *■"' """^ '■aJii equal to the outside lap
rank .t Vhtf ''^Z respectively. Ca Is the" position of the
-rank at which preadmission occurs, "t > • • - ~
greatest steam opening is ajB. The
ut-off occurs when the crank has
:he direction C6. Co is the position
)f the crank at release, and Cd marks
«ie end of the exhaust.
lis. In this diagram radii drawn
from C mark the angular positions »
»f the crank, and their intercepts
*y the ralva circles determine tho
eorresponding displacement of the
Talvo. It remains to find the corre-
Tie lead ia CoQ^^
jponding displacement of the piston.
For this Zeunir employs a eupple-
Flg. 68.
mentary graphic construction, shown
v.k ^^' , ^".fr* "J "'*' "Presenis the connecting rod, and be or
ina wlta centre b and radius ab another circle (uj. Then for any
' Jamvir, Trmtix o» VoLlve Otan. tr«n«l, br M Jimirr. I86S
position of tho crank, as cb', tlie intercept//} betneen the circles is
easily seeu to be e.iual to aa'. aud is therefore the dUtaiice by
which the piston his moved from iu extreme posilion at the
beginning of the stroke. In practice this dingiani ia combined
with that of fig. 67, by drawing both about tho same centre an4
using different scales for valve and piston travel. A rodins vector
drawn from tlie centre parallel to tho ciauk in any position tl en
shows the valve's displacement from the valve's middle position
by the intercept CQ of fig. 67, and the piston's displacement from
the beginning of the piston's motion by the intercept^? of fig 68
149. In all the figures which have been sketched the events refer
to the front end of tho cylinder, that is the end nearest to tha crank
(see fig. 63). 'To determine the events of steam distribution at tho
back end, the lap circles shown by dotted lines in. fig. 67 must
also be drawn, Ca' being the outside lap for the back end, and Of
the inside lap. Ihese laps are not necessarily equal to those at tfia
other end of the valve. From fig. 65 it is obvious that, especially
with a short conneoting-rod, the cut-off and release occur earlier
and the^compression later at tha front than at the back end if tha
laps are equal, and a more symmetrical steam distribution can be
produced by making the inside lap greater and the outside lap
less on the side which leads to the front end of the cylinder. On
the other hand, an unsymmetrical distribution may be desirable
as in a vertical engine, where the weight of tha piston assists the
steam dunng the down-stroke and resists it during the up-stroke
and this may be secured by a suitable inequality in the laps.
150. By varying the ratio of the laps o and i to tha travel of tha
valve, we produce effects on the steam distribution which are
readily traced in tha oval diagram of fig. 65 or in the other figures.
Reduction of travel (which is equivalent to increase of both o and «)
gives later preadmission, earlier cut-off, later release, and earlier
compression ; the ratios of expansion and of compression are both
increased. The effect of a change in the angular advance is more
easily seen by reference to Zeuner's diagram, which shows that to
increase 9 accelerates aU the events and causes a slight increase in
the ratio of expansion.
_ 151. In designing a slide-valve tha breadth of the steam port*
m the direction of the valve's motion is determined ^rith reference
to the volume of the exhaust steam to be discharged in a given time
the area of the ports being generally such that the mean velocity
of the steam dunng discbarge is less than 100 feet per second The
travel is made great enough to keep the cylinder port fully open
during the greater part of the exhaust; for this purpose it is 2* or
3 times the breadth of the steam port. To faciUtata the exit of
steam the mside lap is always small, and is often'wanting or even
negative. During admission the steam port is rarely quite un-
covered especially if the outside lap is large and the travel mode-
rate. Large travel has the advantage of giving freer ingress aud
egress of steam,
with more sharp-
ly-defined cut-
off, compression,
and release, but
this advantage
is secured at the
cost of more
work spent in
moving the
valve and more wear of the faces. To. lessen tha neceMary travel
without reducing the area of steam ports, double- and aveZtreble-
ported valves are often used. An example of a double-ported valve
IS shown m fig. 85. Fig. 69 shows the Trick valve. ^ingen"u3
device for the same purpose. '"bouiuu*
angle 90 + 6. as in fig. 70, where CK is the crank, and CE the corre- of mc
spending position of the eccentric when the enrina "" " " '=°"" °^^]
13 running in the direction of the arrow a. To set y" /'. yjy^
the engine In gear to run in the opposite direction (i) /
It 13 only necessary to shift tha eccentric into tha ■.
position CE , when it will stiJI be 90° -t- 9 in advance >— . '•*'
of the crank. In the older engines this reversal was "f. 70.
effected by temporarily disengaging tha eccentric-rod from tha
valve-rod, working the valve by Sand until the crank turned back
^rJ^ ZTt "1""^ '° ^"^'^ *^« ^"'""^= meanwhile remaining
fn,t„»> »\^ .*^^° "-engagjug die gear. • Tha eccentric sheave"
Dstead of being keyed to the shaft, was driven by . stop fixed ti
frl tl ' l'"^ ''''?"'^ °° °°' °' °^^'' of "^0 'tonldera prolog
I.^^^^ff/'-f.'""""! '^"^'"^ ^°™^ of reversing gear m^f
^^^lilnt V ' ^"'"'StJ'?. eccentric round on the sSaft, bnt the
fnT.f^„f- '^ *' tlie link-motion ia now the most usual Mr
thef ;od°are°c';tcri'by aT.^rtTte^h^ """'■ 'f^"" "'■'' "' '''"■
the earliest ami »HI1 .K ^ 1 , V^ Stephenson's hnk-motion— motio«
or paToft?s curved ?o tT^' "'""' f°.™-the link is a slotted bar staph.
71)r.„d'ca'^bl'e"o?tinV ifSru^or°do" ''}'= "=^'^'' "^ i^S' ' / "
o oiiiiieu up or down Iiy a soapenaoo rod, ?
VALVE MOTIONS.]
S T E A M - E ^N Ci i N E
The valve-rod ends in a blorlc which sli.l« within the link, and
when the link 18 placed- so thai this block is nearly in lino with the
forward cooentrio rod (K. fig. 71) the valve moves in
nearly the same way as if it were driven airectly by a
Bingle eccentric. This is the position of " full forward
gear " In " full backward ficar," on the other hand, tlic
I
Fio. 71.— Stophonson's LInk-Motlon.
Unk is pulled up until the block is in nearly a Imo with the back-
w.ird eccentric rod R'. The link-motion tlius gives a ready means
of reversing the engine,— but it does more than this. By sotting
the link in an intermediate position the valvo receives a motion
nearly the same as that which would be given by an eccentric of
shorter radius and of greater angular advance, and the effect is to
eivo a distribution of steam in which the cut-off is earlier than in
full gear, and the expansion and compression are gi'eater. In mid
mar the steam distribution is such that scarcely any work is done in
the cylinder. The movement of the Unk is effected by R hand lever,
or by a screw, or (in large engines) by an auxiliary steam-engine. A
usual arrangement of hand lever, sketcked in flg. 71, has given rise
Fio. 72.— Goocli'a Lliik-Motlon.
to the phrase " notching up." to describe the setting of the link to
ffive a greater degree of expansion.
wns 1S4. In Gooch's link-motion (fig. 72) the link is not moved no
tion.
-_-^,^ ■;:v^gmE3
Fio. 73.— .\llan'8 Llnk-Motlon.
in shifting from forward to backward gear, but a radius rod between
the valve-rod and the link (which is curved to BUit this radius rod)
is raised or lowered— a plan which has the advantage that the lead
is the same in all gears. In- Allan's motion (fig.
73) the change of gear is effected partly by shiftiag
the link and partly by shifting a radius rod, and
the link is straight.
r
503
of the liuk is readily found, and by repeating the process for other
positions of the eccentrics a diagram of positions (fig. 74) is u^.T"
for the assigned state of the gear. A line AI5 drawn across this dia-
gram in the path of the valve's travel determines the displaccmcnU
of the valvo, and enables the ovnl diagram to bo drawn (as lu hg.
65), which is shown to a larger scale in another part of fig. 74 . The
example refers to Stephenson's link-motion in nearly fuU forw-ard
gear ; with obvious modification the s.imo method may bo used in
the analysis of Gooch's or Allan's motion. The same diagram deter-
mines the amount Of slotting or sliding motion of tho block in the
link In a well-designed gear this sliding is reduced to a minimum
for that position of the gear in which the engine runs most usually.
In marine engines tlie suspension -rod is generally connected to the
link at the end of the link next tho for.vaid eccentric to reduce this
sliding when tho engine is in forward gear A less laborious, but
less accurate, solution of link-motion problems is reached by the
use of what is called the equivalent eccentric— an imaginary eccen-
tric, which would give tlie valve nearly the same motion as it gets
from the ioint action of the actual eccentrics. The following ruJo
for finding the equivalent eccentric, in any state of gear, is due to
"connect "the ecc?ntdc centres E and E' (fig. 7.1^ by a circular arc
EE' X length of eccentric rod
whose radius = 2x1?
Then, if the block is'at any point B, take
EF such that EF : EE' : : cT5 : cc'. _ CF then ^^
renresents the equivalent eccentric both '",,,.,
rad us and in angular position. If the rods of the liukouo tion are
crossed instead of open,-au arrangement seldom used,-tbo arc
F.KE' is to be drawn convex towards C.
156 Many forms of gear for reversing and for varying expansion
have been devl.od with the object of escaping the use
of two eccentrics, and of obtaining a more perfect
distribution of steam than the link-motion can ofte^n
be made to give. Hackworlh's gear the P""' «f
several others,, has a single eccentric E (fig. 76) oppo-
site the crank, with an eccentric-rod EQ,- jvl>°^; "'^;»
position is porpondicular to the travel of the valve.
The rod ends in a block Q, which slides on a fixed
inclined guide-bar or link, and, the valve-rod receives
its motiou through a connecting rod fiom an intei-
mediate point F of tho ,^^^
eccentric-rod, the locus of
which is an ellipse. To
reverse the gear the guide-
bar is tilted over to the
Scsition shown by the
otted lines, and inter-
mediate inclinations give
various degrees of expan-
Biou without altering tho
lead. The steam distribu-
tion is excellent, and the ,6.-Hackworth'3 ValvcCcor.
rial li2moS; but an objection to the gear is the wear
of the sli.ling.block alid guide. I » Bremme's or Marshall s form
Othek
revera-
IlB 71-
155 .no movement of a valve driven by a linK-motion may be
erv fully and elcactly analysed by drawing with the Bid of a tern-
,,la7e the positions of the centre line of the link corresponding to a
number of successive positions of the crank Thus, n fig. 74, two
circular arcs passing through c and c' are drawn with E and f, as
centres and L eccentric rod. are radii. These are loci of two
known points of the link, and a third locus is the circle a in which
the point of suspension must lie. By placing on tho paper a tom-
plote of the link, with those three points marked on it, t)ie position
this objection is obviated with some loss of sym-
metry in tlio valve's motion by constraining tlio
motion of tho point Q, not by a eliding-guido. but
a suspension-link, yj,,p^
which makes the
path of Q a circular
arc instead of a
straight line ; to reverse
the gear the centre of sus-
pension R of this link U
thrown over to tho posi-
tion R' (fig. 77). In tlie
example sketched P is
beyond Q, but P may bo
between Q ami the crank
(as in fig. 76), in whi-li
CISC the eccentric is set
at 180' from the crank.
This gear has been applied
in a number of mariuo
engines. lu Joy's gear.
which is extensively used
in locomotives, no eccen-
tric is required ; and the
rod corresponding to tho
ecceutrio rod in Hack-
Brenime
or MoF*
■lialTr
^/J/#/» ^0^,._._ _. — lX^;.4 ■
fio 71 -Bicmmo'5 or JIaralisll'i Vtlvo-Ccnr.
guid« whose inclination is reversed Hg. 79 shows Joys gcai
504
STEAM-ENGINE
yaZ^ fiath
applied to a locomotive. A tlot-guide.E is used, aod it is curved to
allow for the obliquity of the valve connectiug-rod AE. C is the
crank-pin, B the
Eistou path, and
* a fixed centie.
The reversing
gears of W'al-
schaert. Brown,
and Kitson also
dispense with ec-
centrics, and are
closely related to
the invention of "^ '""
Hackworth.' A Fio. 78.— Diagram of Joy's Valve-Gear.
method of reversing with a common slide-valve, which is ustd in
steam steering engine-s^ and some others, is to supply steam to
y^
[VALVJJS;
Separate
•xpan-
aion
valves.
Joy'h Otar as applied to a Lotoniotire.
jwhat was (before reversal) the exhaust side of the valve and con-
nect the exhaust to what was the steam side. This is done by
means of a separate reversing valve through which the steam and
exhaust pipes pass.
157. When the distribution of steam is effected by the slide-
valve alone the arc ofthe crank's motion during which compression
occurs is equal to the arc during which expansiou occurs, and for
this reason the slide-valve would give an excessive amount of com-
pression if it were made to cut oft' the supply of steam earlier than
about half-stroke. Hence, where an early cut-off is wanted it is
necessary either to use an entirely different means of regulatin" the
distribution of steam, or to supplement the slide-valve by another
valve, — called an expansion-valve, usually driven by a separate
eccentric,— whose function is to effect the cut-off, the other events
being determined as usual by the slide-valve. Such expansion-
valves belong generally to one or other of two types. In one the
cxpansion-valve cuts off' the supply of steam to the chest in which
the niam valve works. This may be done by a disk or double-
beat valve (§ 163), as in the Proell gear mentioned in § 175 below, or
by a slide-valve working on a lixed seat (furnished with one or
more ports), which forms the back or side of the main valve-chest
Valves of this last type are usually made in the "gridiron" or
many-ported form to combine large steam-opening with small
travel. Expansion-valves working in a fixed seat may be amui^ed
eo that the ports are either fully open (fig. 80) or °
closed (fig. 81) when the valve is in its middle '-V \l\
position. In the latter case ^„^, yi«|^
the expansion-valve eccentric ^f^^^° , J^V SS^^^TIs?^
is set in line with or oppo- '■<-a> ' '''' Stac
site to the crank, if the eu- F'ff- 80. Fig. 81.
gine is to run in either direction with the same grade of expansion
Cut-off then occurs at P, fig. 82, when the shaft has turned through
an angle 0 from the beginning of °
the stroke. The expansion valve
reopens at Q, and the slide-valve
mu^ therefore have enough lap to Cm** | jt-i^ y^ aa^inv
cut off earlier than 180° -0 from
the beginning of the stroke, in
order to prevent a second admis-
sion of steam to the cylinder. In «
the valve of fig. 80 the expansion Fig. 82.
eccentric is set at right angles to the crank, if the action is to be
ithe same in both directions. If not, these angles may be deviated
li=*
Fio. 83.— Eipanslon- Valve on back of Main Sllde-Valve.
from, and in this way a more rapid travel at the instant of cut-off
may be secured for one direction of running.
' Revel-slng cciirs of tliis type are generallv termed vaMlal gears. A discussion
of Mr Joy's and other airangeiiienls will bo found in Pnc. Inst. Mech. En}. 18S0.
Mr Kirk. Sir Brycc- Douglas, and othera Iwve designed forms wlilch more or less
■resemble those mentioned in the text. 2 Pnc. Inst. Ucch, Bng,, 1S67.
Fig. 84.
158. The other and much commoner type of expansion-valve U
one sliding on the back of the main slide-valve, which is provided
with through ports which the expansion-
valve opens and closes. Fig. 83 shows one
form of this type. Here the resultant rela-
tive moti<m of the expansion-valve and
main-valve has to be considered. If ra and
n (fig. '84) are the eccentrics working the
main and expausion valves respectively,
then CR drawn equal and parallel to JIE
is the rcsuUanl eccentric-which determines
the motion of the expansion-valve rela-
tively to the main-valve. Cut-off occurs at
Q, when the shaft has turned through an angle 0, which brinm
the resultant eccentric iuto the direction CQ and makes the rclatii-e
displacement of the t«o valves equal to the distance I. Another
form of this valve (corresponding to fig. 81) cuts off steam at the
mside edges of the expausion-slides.
159. Expansion-valves furnish a convenient means of varyinq Var
the expansion, which may be done by altering their lap, travel or of c
angular advance. Alteration of lap, or rather of the distance I in
the figures, is often effected by having the expansion-valve in two
parts (as in fig. 83) and holding them on one rod by right- and left-
handed screws respectively ; by turning the valve-rod the parte
are made to approach or recede from each other. In large valves
the adjustment is more conveniently made by vary-
ing the travel of the valve, which is done by con-
necting it to its eccentric through a link which
serves as a lever of variable length.
160. To relieve the pressure of the valve on the
seat, large slide-valves are generally fitted with
a steam-tight ring, which excludes steam from the
greater part of the back of the valve. The ring fits
steam-tight into a recess in the cover of the steam-
chest, and is pressed by springs against the back of
the valve, which is planed smooth to slide under the
ring. Fig. 85 shows a relief ring of this kind fitted
on the back of a large double-ported slide-valve for
a marine engine. Another plan is to fit the ring into
a recess on the back of the valve, and let it slide
on the inside of the steam-chest cover. Steam is
thus excluded from the space within the ring, any
steam that leaks in being allowed to escape to the
condenser (or to the intermediate receiver when the
arrangement is fitted to the high-pressure cylinder
of a compound engine). A flexible diaphragm has also been used,
Instead of a recess, to hold the ring.
161. The pressure of valves on j Pistoi
cylinder faces is still more com- j elide-
pletelyobviated by making theback , valve,
of the valve similar to its face, and i
ReUi
ringi
Fig. 85.
f Fio. 86.— Piston Slide- Valve. Fio. 87.— Piston Slide- Valve.
causing the back to slide in contact with the valve-chest cover,
which has recesses corresponding to the cylinder ports; This
arrangement is most perfectly carried out in the piston slide-valves
now very largely used in the high-pressure cylinders of marin«
engines. The piston slide-valve may be described as a slide-valv*
iOOVEENOES.]
STEAM-ENGIi^E
o05
Fio. 88. — Rocking Sllde-
VaUe.
■wible-
•It
•Ire.
krnish
■Uiact.
in which the valve face is curved to form a complete cyliniler,
round whose whole circumference the ports extend. The pistons
are packed like ordinary cylinder pistons by metallic rings, and
the ports are crossed here and there by diaf;onal bars to keep the
rings from springing out as the valve moves over them.^ Figs. 86
and 87 show two forms of piston valve designed by Mr Kirk for the
supply of high-pressure steam to large marine engines. P, P are
the cylinder ports iu each.
Fig. 85 illustrates an arrangement common in all heavy slide-
valves whose travel is vertical — the balance-piston, which is pressed
up by steam on its lower side and so equilibrates the weight of the
valve, valve-rod, and connected parts of — ~
the mechanism.
162. The slide-valve sometimes takes the
form of a disk revolving or oscillating on a
fixed seat, and sometimes of a rocking cyl-
inder (fig. 88). This last kind of sliding
motion is very usual in stationary engines
fitted with the Corliss gear, which will be
described in the next cliajiter, in which
case four distinct rocking slides are commonly employed to effect
the steam disti ibution, one giving admission and one giving exhaust
at each end of the cylinder (see fig. 127).
163. In many stationary engines lift or disk valves are used,
worked by tappets, cams, or eccentrics. Lift valves are generally
of the Cornish or double-beat type (fig. 89), in ft bich equilibrium
is secured by the use of two conical
faces which open or close together.
In Cornish pumping engines,
which retain the single action of
Watt's early engine, three double-
beat valves are used, as steam-
valve, equilibrium-valve, and ex-
baust-valvo respectively. These
are closed by tappets on a rod
moving with the beam, but aro
opened by means of a device called
a cataract, which acts as follows.
The cataract is a small pump with
a weighted plunger, discharging •
fluid through a stop-cock which can be adjusted byhand when it is
desired to alter the speed of the engine. The weighted plunger is
raised by a rod from tlie beam, but is free in its descent, so that it
comes down at a rate depending on the extent to which the stop-
cock is opened. -When it comes down a certain way it opens the
steam and exhaust valves, by liberating catches which hold them
closed; the "out-door" stroke then begins and admission continues
until the steam-valve is closed : this is done directly by the motion
of the beam, which also, at a later point in the stroke, clo-ses the
exhaust. Then the equitibriurn-valve is opened, and the "in-door"
stroke takes place, during which the plunger of the cataract is
raised. When it is completed, the piston pauses until the cataract
causes the steam-valve to open and the next "out-door" stroke
begins. By applying a cataract to tho equilibrium-valve also, a
pause is introduced at the end of tho " out-door " stroke. Pauses
have the advantage of giving the pump time to fill and of allowing
the pump-valves to settle in their scats without shock.
IX. GOVERNISO.
Mattods 164. To make an engine run steadily an almost continuous pro-
»f iTgu- cess of adjustment must go on, by which the amount of work done
i«WH^. by tho steam in tho cylinder is adapted to the amount of external
■work demanded of tho engine. Even in ca-ses where tho demand
for work is sensibly uniform, fluctuations in boiler-pressure still
make regulation necessary. Generally tho process of government
aims at regularity of speed ; occasionally, however, it is some other
condition of running that is maintained constant, as when an engine
driving a dynamo-electric machine is governed by an electric regula-
tor to give a constant difference of potential between the brushes.
The ordinary methods of regulating are either («) to alter the
rcssuro at which steam i« admitted by opening or closing more or
CSS a throttle-valve between the boiler and tho cnt;ino, or (6) to
alter the volume of steam admitted to tho cylinder by varying the
point of cut-off. The former plan was introduced by Watt and is
still common, especially in small engines. From tho point of view of
heat economy it is wasteful, since the process of throttling is essen-
tially irreversible, but this objection is to some extent lessened by
tho fact that the wire-drawing of sto.am dries or superheats it, and
consequently reduces the condensation which it suffers on coming
into contact with the chilled cylinder walls. On tho other hand,
to hasten the cut-off involves a gain rather than a loss of efficiency
unless the ratio of expansion is already very great. The second
plan of reguhiting is much to be preferred, especially when tho
engine is subject to largo variations of load, and is very generally
followed in stationary engines of the larger types.
165. Within certain limits regulation by either plan can bo
effected by hand, hat for the finer adjustment of speed some form
of automatic governor is necessarv. Speed governors are commonly"
of the centrifugal type: a pair of masses revolving about a spiudld
which is driven by the engine are kept
from flying out by a certain controlling
force. When an increase of speed occurs
this controlling force is no longer able
to keep the masses revolving in their
former path ; they meve out until the
controlling force is sufiiciently increased,
and in moving out they act on the regu-
lator of the engine, which may be a
throttle-valve or some form of automatic
expansion gear. In the conical pendu-
lum governor of Watt (fig. 90) the re-
volving masses are balls attached to a
vertical spindle by links, and the con-
trolling force is furnished by the weight
of the balls, which, in receding from the spindle, are obliged to ris»
When the speed exceeds or falls short of its normal value they mov«
out or in, and so raise or lower a collar 0 which is in connexion by
a lever with the throttle-valve. The suspension-links may be hun^
from a cross-bar ffigs. 94, 951 instead of being pivoted in the aii,-
of the spindle. , _■
166. In a modified form of Watt's governor, known as Porter s, i«»«
nr
IC!
fio. 90.— Wali'3 GoTeiTior.
or the loaded governor, a sup-
plementary controlling force is
given by placing a weight on
the sliding collar (fig. 91). This
is equivalent to increasing the
weight of the. balls without
altering their mass. In other
governors the controlling force
is wholly or partly produced by
springs. Fig. 92 shows a gover-
nor by Messrs Tangye in which
the balls are controlled partly by
their own weigbt and partly by
a spring, the tension of which is
regulated by turning the cap A-
gov«j
■or^
Fio. 91.— Loaded Governor.
Fio. 92.— Spring Goyenior (Tangye).
167. In whatever way the revolving masses aro controlled, the EqtllV-
controlling force may be treated as a force F acting on each ball libri^
in tho direction of the radius towards the axis of revolution, govr
Then, if M be tho mass of the hall, m the number of revolutions
per second, and r the radius of the ball's path, the governor will'
revolve in equilibrium when F-iir'w-rM (in absolute units), or
~F
27r V i
27r V Mr
In order that.the config\iration of the governor should be stable, F
must increase more rapidly than r, as tho balls move outwards.
In the simple conical pendulum governor, any of the three forms
shown in figs. 93, 94, and 95, where the balls have no load to rain*
A.
"' ^
Fig. 90. ■
but their own weight, tne controlling force F U th« rMalUnt of
T, tho tension in tho link, and My, tho weight of the ball (fig. 9«)/
Let the height of tho pendulum, that is, tho distance above the
plane of the balls of tho point where the suspending-huk, or tbo link
produced, cuts the axis, bo called A. TheuJ'':M;/::r:A- Hence
Fig. 93
Fig. 91.
F-^f ,and«-^y-|
Mjrr
Any change of n tends to produce n change of », and, if th»
governor itself and the regulating mechanism attached to it were in»
•i-;--vy*
'506
S T E A M-E N G I N E
from friction, only one position of the governor would be possible
for any one value of n. It is obvious that neither this governor nor
any other stable governor maintains a strictly constant speed in the
engine which it controls. If the boiler pressure or the demand for
Work is. changed, a certain amount of permanent displacement of
the balls is necessary to alter the steam supply, and the balls can
retain their displaced position only by virtue of a permanent change
in the speed. The maximum range of speed depends on that
amount of change of n which suffices to alter the configuration of
the governor from the position which gives no steam-supply to the
position which gives full steam-supply ; and the governor is said to
be sensitive if this range is a small fraction of n.
168. If the governor is loaded, let M' be the amount of the load
per ball, and q the velocity ratio of the vertical movement of the
Jload to the vertical movement of the ball. Then qWg is the enui-
jvalent increase in the weight of each ball. The effect of the load
is to increase the controlling force F from ilc/r/h to {li + qtil')gr/h,
and the speed at which the governor must now turn, to maintain
any assigned Lsight h, is
1^ /{M + qU')g
2» V MA
The speed of the loaded governor must therefore ba greater than
that of an unloaded governor of the same height in the ratio
V(M + (?M') to VM.
The sensibility is then the same as that of an unloaded governor
of the same height A, but the loaded governor has an important
advantage in another respect— namely, its power or capability of
overcoming frictional resistance to a change of configuration.
This quality in a governor is increased whenever the controlling
force F is increased, whether by the addition of a. load or by the
use of springs.
For let/ he the frictional resistance to be overcome per ball
resolved as a force resisting the displacement of each ball in the
direction of the radius r. Then if n be the speed normal to any
configuration this speed must change by a certain amount An
before friction is overcome and the balls begin to be displaced
The controUing force is now F +/ when the balls are moving out-
,wards, and F -/vihen the balls are moving inwards. Hence
[oOVEKNORB.'
Fig. 98.
71 + All
2t V :
Mr
.And
n-An,'
1 /Izl
. . 2irV Mr •
From this, if An be small compared ivith n, we have Anjn^fliV
Thus, when a given amount of frictional resistance is to be over-
come before the governor can act, the limits within which this
friction allows the speed to vary are less tho greater is the con-
trolling force F. A loaded governor is more powerful in this
respect than an unloaded governor of the same configuration in the
proportion in which F is greater— namely, as M + jM' is to M. ' A
loaded governor may therefore have much lighter revolving masses
without loss either of sensibility or of power,
fieneral 169 The same results are applicable to governors in which the
•olntion , controlling force is supplied by springs as well as by gravity, or bv
r-»phic springs alone. To find the configuration which the governor will
assume at any particular speed, or tho speed corresponding to a
particu ar conhguration, it is only necessary to determine the whole
controlling force F per ball acting along the radius towards the
axis for various values of r. Let a curve ab (fig. 97) bo drawn
, showing the relation of F to r. At any assigned
value of r set up an ordinate QC = 47rVrM. Join
OO. The point c, in which OC cuts the curve, de-
termines the value of r at which the balls will
revolve at the assigned speed n. Or, if that is r
given, and the value of n is to be found, the line Oc
produced will determine C, and then «= = QC/47rVM
The sensibility of the governor is determined by
taking points a and 6 corresponding to full steam
(raphic
aethod
Flu. 97.
.J I -..-.. v...^^/uM*.4j5 *•" iuii meant
and no steam respectively, and drawing lines through them to de-
termine the corresponding values of QA and QB.' When the fric-
!w» ''^J^?-T ^ 1' ''"r"' ='° =«Jdit><'°al pair of curves drawn
above and below ab, with ordinates F-H/and F -/ respectivelv
eerve to show the additional variations in speed which are caused by
rnction. The governor is stable throughout its whole range when
meet'ir^ " * ^'"^"' ^'"^"'' *''^° *"y ^'°« 'Irawn from 0 to
'rtili f^^.i^' ^*< " "evident that, if, when the balls are displaced,
™«rt i„ . ?*r°f '=''?2" proportionally to the radius%, the
X 1, fl, n " • , '°-.""'" ^°'^?- *'"' ^luiJibrium of the gover-
nor is then neutral; it can revolve in equilibrium at one and
on y at one speed At this speed it assumes, indifterently, any one
it I^r.'' <- ^"."fig'^?"""'- The slightest variation of speed drives
jt to the extremity of its range ; hence iU jensihUity is indefinitlly
great. Such a governor is called isochronous. A gravity govemor
13 isochronous when A is constant for all positions of the balls
(sinco nx Vj/A). This will be the case if the balls are constrained
to move in a parabolic path (fig. 98), it being
a property of the parabola that the subnormal '
QM, which is A, is constant. A useful ap- '
proxiniation to the same condition, through
a limited range, is secured in Farcot's gover-
nor by the device of hanging the balls by
crossed links from the distant ends of a T
piece (fig. 95). If each centre of suspension
■were at the centre of curvature of a parabolic
arc which coincided with the actual circular
locus of the balls at the position of normal
speed, the governor would be sensibly isochronous at that speed-
by taking the centres of suspension rather nearer the axis, a suitable
margin of stability is se-
cured, but the governor is
still nearly enough iso-
chronous to be exceedingly
sensitive.* Where springs
furnish the controlling
force, an approach to iso-
chronisra cau be secured
by adjusting the initial
tension of the springs, and
this forms a convenient
means of regulating the
sensibility. Thus, in Ml
Hartnell's apparatus (fig.
99), where the balls move
in a nearly horizontal di-
rection, and gravity has'
little to do with the con-
trol, the governor can be
made isochronous by screw-
ing down the spring, so
that the initial force ex-
erted by the spring is to
its increase by displace-
ment of the balls as tho
initial radius of the balls'
path is to the increase of
radius by displacement.
When the initial force is
increased beyond this the
governor becomesunstable.
Ill fig. 97 the condition of isochrbnism is secured when tfie lina
ab coincides with a straight line through 0.
_ 171. In practice no governor can be absolutely isochronous. It Hun
IS indispensable to leave a small margin of stability for the sake of '
preventing violent change in the supply of steam, especially when
there is much frictional resistance to be overcome by the governor
or where the influence of the governor takes much time to be felt
by the engine. .An over-sensitive governor is liable to fall into a
state of oscillation called hunting. When an alteration of speed
begins to be felt, however readily the governor alters its form, tha
engine s response is more or less delayed. If the governor acts by
closing a throttle-valve, the engine has stUl a capacious valve-chest
on which to draw for steam. If it acts by changing the cut-off its
opportunity is passed if the cut-off has already occurred, and 'the
control only begins with the nest stroke. This lagging of effect
Is specially felt in compound engines, where that portion of the
steam which is already in the engine continues to do iU work for
nearly a whole revolution after passing beyond the governor's
control. The result of this storage of energy in an engine whose
governor 18 too nearly isochronous is that, whenever the demapd for
power suddenly falls, the speed rises so much as to force the gover-
nor into a position of over-control, such that the supply of steam
is no longer adequate to meet even the reduced demand for power.
Then the speed slackens, and the same kiijd of excessive regulation
IS repeated in the opposite direction. A Jtate of forced oscillation
IS consequently set up. The. effect is aggravated by the momen-
tum which the governor balls acquire in being displaced, and also
to a very great degree, by the friction of the governor and the
regulating mechanism. Hunting is to be avoided by giving the
governor a fair degree of stabiUty, by reducing as far as possible the
static fnctional resistances, and by introducing a viscous resistance
to the displacement of the governor, which prevents the displace
ment from occurring too suddenly, without affecting the ultimate
position of equilibrium. For this purpose many governors are
furnished with a dash-pot, which is an hydrauUo or pneumatic
brake, consisting of a piston connected to the governor, working
loosely in a cylinder which is filled with oil or with air. '
172. In some high-gpeed engines the governor balls or blocks ro-
1 gee also a paper by Mr J. Head frx. /ml. Uedi. Ens., 1871.
I.— UartneU's Qovemor.
GOVBKNOES.]
STEAM-ENGINE
507
Tolve in a vertical plane, about a horizontal axis, and the control is
given wholly by springs. An example is shown in 6g. 100, which is
the governor of the
Arraington and Sims
engine referred to in
g 197 below. Another
example is furnished
by the governor of
Brotherhood's engine
(§ 203, fig. 128).
173. The throttle-
valve, as introduced
by Watt, was origin-
ally a disk turning on
a transverse axis across
the centre of the steam-
pipe. It is now usually
A double ■ beat valve
(fig. 89) or a piston-
valve. When regula-
tion is effected by
varying the cut-otf, and
an expansion-valve of ,, >. i ■
the slide-valve type is used, the governor generaUy acts by changing
'.he travel of the valve. Fig. 99 iUustrates a common mode of doing
Fio. 100.
■'Goyernor of Ai-rolngton ifc Slnift
Engine.
this, by giving the expansion-valve its motion from an eccentric-rod
through a link, the throw of which is varied by the displacement
of the governor balls. In fig. 100, the governor aets on the main
slide-valve of the engine (there bein^ no separate expansion-valve),
and the displacement of the revolving masses M, M change* both
the throw and the angular advance of the eccentric, thereby pro-
ducing a change in the steam sujiply similar to that producoa bj
"notching up" a link-motion. The eccentricity B is altered by
the relative displacement of two parts C, D into which the eccentri*
sheave is divided. In other forms of automatic expansion-gear th»
lap of the valve is altered ; in others the governor acta by shifting
the expansion-valve eccentric round on its shaft, and so changing
its angular advance.
174. In large stationary engines the most usual plan of automati-
cally regulating the expansion is to employ some lorm of trip-gear,
the carHest type of which was introduced in 1849 by G. H. Corlisi
of Providence, U.S. In the Corliss system the valves which admit
steam are distinct from the erhauat-valvea. The latter are opened
and closed by a reciprocating piece which takes its motion from aa
eccentric. The former are opened by a reciprocating piece, but art
closed by springing back when released by a trip- or trigger-action.
The trip occurs earlier or later in the piston's stroke according t*
the position of the governor. The admission-valve is opened by
the reciprocating piece with equal rapidity whether the cut-off if
going to be early or late. It remains wide open during the admir
Fio. 101.— Corliss Engliio, with Spencor Inglia Trip-Gflar.
ROD,
101 and 102.
outside of the
nnd then, when the trip-action comes into play, it closes
roddcnly. Tho indicator diagram of a Corliss engine consequently
has a nearly horizontal admission-lino and a sharply defined cut-off.
Generally tho valves of Corliss engines are cylindrical plates turn-
ing in lioUow cylindrical scats which extend across tho width of
the cylinder. Ofjten, however, the admission-valves are of the disk
or ' . i>-
acta.
himself nnd by ■ • /• -
by Messrs Hick, llargreavcs, k Co., Is shown in figs.
A wrist-plato A, which turns on a. jiin on tho (
eylindor, recaivoa a motion of osciUatipn from an eccentric. It
opens tho cylindrical rockingvalvo B by pulling the link 0, which
consists of two parU, connected to each other by a pair of spring
clips a, o. liotweon tho clips there is a rocking-o«m b, and rr the
link is pulled down this cam places itself more and more athwart
the link, until at a corUin point it forces the clips open. Tlicp
the upper part of tho link springs back and allows tho valve B to
close by the action of a spring in the dash-pot D. When tho
wrist-plato makes its return stroke the clini reongago tho upper
portion of the link C, and things are ready for the next stroke.
The rocking-cam b has its position controlled by the governor
■■ JVoc. Jml. Mcch. Eng., 1808.
through the link E in such a way that when the speed of tU
engine increases it stands more athwart the link C, and therofort
Flo. 109.— CorllM V»lT*-0«r. Sptncer lngll» ronn.
tho clips to bo roloasod at an (arlier point in the atroke. i
ly similar arrangement goTorni the admiiiion of steam to ttt
precise.^
other end of the cylinder.
Tho i>th«a"t-7»lTe» are situated on tM
508
S T E A M-E N G 1 N E
[goveenoes;
bottom ot the cylinder, at tlie enus, and take their motion from
a separate wrist-plate which oscillates on the same pin with the
Iplate A. '
, 175. Fig. 103 shows a compact form of trip-gear by Dr Proell.
|A. rocking-lever ai is made to oscillate on a fixed pin through its
icentre by a connexion to the crosshead of the engine. _ When the
end a rises, the
bell-crank lever
c engages the
lever d, and
■when a is de-
•pressed the lever
I is forced down
and the valve e
is opened to ad-
mit steam to one
end of the cylin-
der. As a con-
tinuea moving
down a point is
reached at which
the edge of c
slips past the
edge of d, and b
the valve is then
forced to its seat
by a spring in
the dash-pot /.
This disengage-'
ment occurs
early or late ac-
cording to the
position of the
fulcrum piece g,
on which the
beel of the bell-
crankcrests dur-
ing the opening
of the valve.
The poiition of
g is determined by the governor.
Flo. 103. — ProeU's Automatic Expansion Gear.
A similar action, occurring at
the other end of the rockiiig-bar ab, gives steam to the other end
of the cylinder. In one form of ProeU's gear both ends of ab act
on the same steam-valve, which is then a separate expansion- valve
(fixed on the back of a chest in which an ordinary slide-valve works.
\ 176. In the ordinary form of centrifugal governor the position of
the throttle-valve, or the expansion-link, or the Corliss trigger de-
pends on the configuration of the governor, and is definite for each
(position of the balls. In disengagement governors, of which the
governor A shown on the right-hand side in fig. 104 is an example,
any reduction of speed below
a certain value sets the regu-
lating mechanism in motion,
and the adjustment continues
until the speed has been re-
stored. Similarly a rise of
speed above a certain value
sets the regulating mechan-
ism in motion in the other
direction. If the spindle a
(fig. 104) is connected to the
regulator so as to give more
steam if it turns one way and
less if it turns the other, the
speed at which the engine
will run in equUibrium must
lie between narrow limits, since at any speed high enough to keep
D in gear with a the supply of steam will go on being reduced, and
it any spe.ed low enough to bring c into gear with a the supply will
feo on being increased. This mode of governing, besides being
Sensibly isochronous, has the advantage that the power of the
governor is not limited by the controlling force on the balls, since
Ihe governor acts by deflecting a portion of the power that is being
developed by the engine to the work of moving the regulator. It is
rarely applied to steam-engines, probably because its action is too
slow. This defect has been ingeniously remedied in the supple-
taentary governor of Mr W. Knowles, who has combined a dis-
engagement governor with one of the ordinary type in the manner
shown in fig. 104-.' Here the spindle a, driven by the supple-
mentary or disengagement governor A, acts by lengthening the
rod d which connects the ordinary governor B with the regulator.
It does this by turning a coupling nut « which unites two parts of
.tf, on which right- jnd left-handed screws are cut. Any sudden
{ » NumeroBs forms of Corliss gears are illustrated in W. H. Uhland's worlt on
Corliss engines, translated by A. Tolhausen (I^ndon, 1879). A more recent form
cf gear by Mr IhrUs Is described in engineering, voL xL pr'251.
» Pnx. Inst. Mech. Eng., 1884.
Fio. 104,— Knowles's Supplemental;
Governor.
fluctuation in speed is immediately responded to by the ordinary
governor. _ Any more or less permanent change of load or of steam.
pressure gives the supplementary governor time to.act. It goes on
adjusting the supply until the normal speed is restored, thereby
converting the control of the ordinary governor, which is stable,
and therefore not isochronous. Into a control which is isochronous
as regards all fluctuations of long period. The power of the com-
bination is limited to that of the common governor B.
177. Other governors which deserve to be classed as disengage-
ment governors are those in which the displacement of Hit
governor affects the regulator, not directly by a mechanical con-
nexion, but by admitting steam or other fluid into what may b(
called a relay cylinder, whose piston acts on the regulator. li
order that a governor of this class should work without huntingj
the piston and valve of the relay cylinder should be connected h\
what is termed differential gear, the effect of which is that for eaca
displacement of the valve by the governor the piston movw
through a distance proportional to the displacement of the valve.
An example of differential gear is shown in fig. 105. Suppose that
the rod a is connected with the governor (
so that it is raised by an acceleration of the
engine's speed. The rod c which leads from
the relay piston b to the regulator serves as a
fulcrum, and the ralve-rod d is consequently
raised. This admits steam to the upper side
of the piston and depresses the piston,
which pulls down d with it, since the end
of a now serves as a fulcrum. Thus by
the downward movement of the piston the
valve 13 again restored to its middle posi-
tion and the action of the regulator then
ceases until a new change of speed occurs.
A somewhat similar differential contriv-
ance is used in steam-steering engines to
make the position of the rudder follow,
step by" step, every movement of the hand- Fig. 106.— Differential G««
\vheel ;' also, in the steam reversing gear '°' ^"^'^^ Govei-nor.
which is applied to large marine engines, to make the position of
the drag-link follow that ot the hand-lever ; and also in certain
electrical governors.* The effect of adding a differential gear such
as this to a relay governor or other disengagement governor is to
convert it from the isochronous to the stable type.
178. Another group of governors is best exemplified by the I>tS>«h
"differential" governor ofthe late Sir W. Siemens^ (fig. 106). A ential*
spindle a driven by the engine drives a piece
b (whose rotation is resisted by a friction
brake) through the dynamometer coupling
c, consisting of a nest of bevel-wheels and
a loaded lever d. So long as the speed re-
mains constant the rate at which work is
done on the brake is constant and the lever
d is steady. If the speed accelerates, more
power has to be communicated to b, partly
to overcome the inertia and partly to meet
the increased resistance of the brake, and the
lever d is displaced. The lever d works the
throttle-valve or other regulator, either directly or by a steam relay.
The governor is isochronous when the force employed to hold d in
position does not vary ; if the force increases when d is displaced,
the governor is stable. A governor of this class may properly bo
called a dymfmometrio governor, since it regulates by endeavour-
ing to keep constant the rate at which energy is transmitted to the
piece b. In one form of Siemens's governor the friction-brake is
replaced by a sort of centrifugal pump, consisting of a para-
boloidal cup, open 9t the top and bottom, whose rotation causes
a fluid to rise in it and escape over the rim when the speed ia
sufficiently great. Any increase in the cup's speed augments
largely the power required to turn it, and consequently affects the
position of the piece which corresponds to d.^ Siemens's governor
is not itself used to any important extent, but the principle it em-
bodies finds application in a number of other forms.
179. The "velometer" or marine-engino regulator of Messra
Durham and Churchill ' is a governor of the same tj'pe. In it thol
rotation of a pieco corresponding to b is resisted by means of a fan'
revolving in a case containing a fluid, and the coupling piece which
is the mechanical equivalent of d in fig. 106 acts on the throttle-
valve, not directly but through a steam relay. In Silver's marine
governor' the only, friction-brake that is provided to resist the
rotation of the piece which corresponds to i is a Set of air-vanea.
The inertia is, however, very great, and any acceleration of the
engine's speed consequently displaces the dynamometer coupling
8=»ci
dynaiw
metrio
gover.
norfc/
Fig. lOG.— Siemeni'
Goveraor.
3 See a paper by Mr J. MacFarTgfae Grav, Proc. Inst, Mech, Eng., 1867-
• WUlans, Min. Pror. Imt. C.E., vol. Isxxi. p. 166.
» Proc, lixst. Mech. Eng., 1853.
' Proc. Imt. Mech. Eng., 186G ; or Phil. Trans., ISSt
' Proc. Jnst. Mech. Eng., 1879.
8 Brit. Ass. Rep., 1869, p. 123.
'WOEK ON CEANK.-BHAFT.]
STEAM -ENGINE
509
„d 80 acta on the regulator m iU effort lo incr'^we tba speed
"^Inother example of the differential tyre is the Allen' governor,
%hih has a fan directly geared to the engine, revo.v.ng ma c..^
^mtainine a fluiJ. The case is also free to turn except that it ^
Teld Ck by a weight or spring and is connected lo-the regulator^
80 lon^ as tL speeS of the fan is constant, the moment required to
W the ease from turning does not vary =">J f"''^:^"';"^'^ ,'''!
Sion of the regulator remains unchanged. ^ TlY^-J.ntilTar.^
flc. 107.— l>avcy'B Differential
Vulv<;-Gtar.
Dosit on 0 tne reguiaior reiiiauia uu-uou^^-. ■• ----- ,,^,i„,,
feste the moment increases, and the case has to follow it (act ng
^n the regulator) until the spring which holds the case rom turn-
fag is sufficiently extended, or the weight raised. The term dy-
tamonietric governor" is equally applicable to this form ; the pow er
SJdt" derive the fan is regulatei by an absorption-dynamometer
i^th case instead of by a tr'ansmission-dynamometer between the
tngine and the fan. In Kamer 3 governor the case is fi^-l «nd
thf reaction takes place between one turbine-fan M revolves
lith the engine and another close to it which is held from turning
by a spring and is connected with the regulator. , . . .„ ,v„
^80.%umpKOvernorsform another 8™"?.='°^'='? ^^'"H. *» ^^
differential or aynamometric type. An engine may have its speed
Kgu ated by working a small pump which .supplies a chamber Iron,
Xh ^vate^r is allo'wed to escape by an orihce oj constant sze^
AVhen the engine quickens its speed water is pumped in faster than
it can escape, and the accumulation of waterin the chamber may
be made to act on the regulator through a piston controlled by a
Bprr^ or in other ways. This device has an obvious analogy to the
i "rac?orthe Cornish'pumping-engine (§ 163). -^-b '^-N^^^J^^/^^i
the somewhat different purpose of introducing a regulated pause at
the end of each stroke. The "differential valve-gear invented
by Jlr H. Davey, and successfully applied by hira to modern
rump ng-engines, combines the functions of the Cornish cataract
vTthft of^a hVdraulic governor for regnlatu.g the expansion.'
In tliis gear, which is shown dia-
gramatically in fig. 1 07, the valve-
tod of the engine (a) receives its
motion from a lever b, one end of
which (c) copies, on a reduced
bcale, the motion of the engine
jjiston, while the other (d), wliicli
forms (so to si)eak) the fulcrum,
has its position regulated by at-
tachment to a subsidiary piston-
rod, wliich is driven by steam in a
cvlinder «. and is forced to travel .
Emly by a caUract /. The point of cut-off is determined by
Eh raU at which the main piston overtakes the cataract piston
Kd consequently comei. early with light loads and late with
''^ISl. 'The' government of marine engines is peculiarly (lifficult.on
account of the sudden and violent Huctuationa of load to which
they aro subjected by the alternate uncovering and submersion ol
the screw in a heavy sea. However rapidly the governor responds
(to increase of si.eed by closing tlie throttle- valve an excess of work
issti 1 done by the steam in the valve-chest and in the bigh-pr^-
eure cylinder. To check the racing which results from this, ,t has
been proposed to supplement the control which the throttle-valve
on the steam-pipe exercises by throttling the exhaust or by spoiling
the vacuum. I'robably a better plan is that of Messrs Jenkins and
Lee, who give supplementary regulation by causing the governor Jto
ope^ a shunt-valve wliich connecU the top and bottom of the low-
pressure cylinder, thus allowing a portion of the steam in it to pass
the piston without doing work. In Duulop s pneumatic governor
an attempt is made to anticipate tho raring of the screw by caus-
ing the regulator to be acted on by the changes ot pressure ou a
diaphra-ni which is connected by on air-pipe with an open vessel
fixed un"lcr tho stern of the ship. A plan has recently been intro-
duced by Jlr W. li. Thompson to prevent tlio racing of inanno
engines by working the valves from a lay shaft which iadriv..Q
at a uniform speed by an entirely independent engine, bo long as
this lay shaft is not driven too fast the mam engine is obligcil to
follow it; if tho lay shaft is driven faster tliaii tlio main engine
tan follow tho main engine pauses so as to muss a stroke, and
|thcn goes on. Rovcrsiug the motion of llio lay shaft reverses the
main engine. . 1 1 f
182. In connexion with governors mention may bo made ol an
apparatusiiiitnxluced by Mr Moscrop to give a continuous record
of lluctuations in the speed of engines.* It resenib cs a small
centrifugal governor, but the disi.lacemeiit of the balls actuates,
not a regulator, but a (lencil which moves trausversely on a ribbon
of paper that is moved continuously by clockwork. Tho recorder
resixmds so rapidly to changes of speed as to sliow not only the
comparatively slow changes wliich occur from stroke to stroke,
but also th.jM tliort jieri. J lluttuaiions between n i.iavimura and
niiaimnm, within tho limits of each ungle stroke, wlach wiU b*
discussed ui the ccxt chapter.
X. Thz Work on the Crakk-Sbaft.
183 Besides those variations of Rpced which occur from strokt
to stroke, which it is the business of the governor to check, ther«
aro variations within each single stroke over which the govemo.
has of course no control. These are due to the varying rate al
which work is done on the crank-shaft during its revolution, lo
limit them is the function of the fly-wheel, which acU by formtng
a reservoir of energy to be drawn upon dunng those parts of tua
revolution in which the work done on the shaft is less than the
work done by the shaft, and to take up the surplus in those parts
of the revolution in which the work done on the shaft is great-if
than the work done by it. This alternate storing and restormg of
energy is accomplished by slight fluctuations of speed, whose range
depends on the ratio which the alternate excess ?Dd detect of
energy bears to the whole stock the fly-wheel holds m virtue of itt
motion. The effect of the fly-wheel may be studied by drawing •
diagram of crank-effort, wliich shows the work done on the crank
in the same way that the indicator diagram shows the work dont
on the piston. The same diagram serves another useful purpose a
determining the twisting and bending stress in the crank,
184 The diagram of crank-effort is best drawn by representing
in rectangular cS-ordinates, the relation between the moment whicl
the connecting-rod exerts to turn the crank and the angle turneif
through by the crank. When the angle is expressed m circuU
measure, the area of the diagram is the work done on the cra°k;
Neglecting friction, and supposing m the first i.lace that the
en.'iue runs so slowly that the forces required for tlie acceleratioi.
of'the moving masses are negligibly small, the moment of crauk<
effort is found by resolving the thrust P of tho piston-rod into .
■ /Voc. Intt. ticcli Eng., IS'3.
• JtM., ISTK.
» Proc. Inil. Uech. Eng, 1874.
^ llnd., last.
ng. 108.
component Q along the connecting-rod and a component 0 nortnaj
to tL surface of the guide (fig. 108). Tho moment of crank.
effort is .
/ rcosa A
Q-CM.P-CN^rrsina(^l-^;^=^JJ|^J.
where CN is drawn perpendicular to the centre lino or travtl of tU
Tiston, r U the crank, I the connecting rod, and a the angle ACU
whch the crank makes with the centre line^ A graphic deter,
mination of CN is the most convenient in pnwtic^ Uiiless the con.
necting rod is *o long Uut iU obliquity is negbgiUe^lifla th*
second term in
the above expres-
sion vanishes.
Fig. 109 shows
tho diagram of
crank-eH'ort de-
termined in this
way for an engine , ' ' ■ .*,,:, ,„,.i 1,, '..»v>
Wlioso connect- no. lOO.-Diagram o( Cmk-EITort.
ing-rod 19 3J ^_ •
times the length of its crank, and m which steam U «rt «ir M
half-stroke. The thrust P is determined frcm tho indicator dla-
"1 aras of fig 108 by taking the excess of the forward i.ressure on one
side of the piston over tlie back pressure on the other, side, end
multiplving this elfective pressure by the area of tho piston. tTbs
area of the diagiam of crank-effort is the work done per revoluhoa
186 The friction of tho piston in the cylinder and the piston-
rod in the stulling-hox is easily allowed for, when it is known, by
making a 8uit.able deduction from P. Friction at the Ri-'.'leo. «'
the crosshead, and at tlio crank-pin has the elTert of ».kiOg thl
stress at each of these places bo inclined to the rubbing surfaces a
an angle 0, tho angle of repose, whoso tangent is the coellicieiit ol
friction. Hence 0, instead of being noma! to the guide, is inclined
at the angle <p >" "'o direction which resists ths piston » molio.
{<■•<! V.V) and the thrust along tho connecting-rod, instead ol
passing thron.J. the c-ntre of ea.1i pin. is displaced far enough U
1m»1<o an angle 0 wilh tho radius at ihe i.omt wh«r« it niMtatt*
,,in's Burlaco. To satisfy this coiidioon lata " fnrl'on-circle b.
drawn about tho centre of each pin. with radius equal lo a iiu f.
510
STEAM-ENGINE
/
where aHa the actual radius of the pin. Any line drawn tangent
to this circle will make the angle <j> with the radius of the pin at
the surface of the pin. The thrust of the connecting-rod must hn
tangent to hoth
circles ; it 13
drawn as in fig.
110, eo that it
iiosists the rota-
tion of the pins
relatively to
the rod. The
direction of ro-
tation of the
pins is shown ^'S- 1'"-
by curved arrows in the figure, where the friction-circles are drawn
to a greatly exaggerated scale. Finally, P (after allowing for the
friction. of piston-packing and stuffing-box) is resolved into 0 and
Q, and Q'CM, the moment of Q on the shaft, is determined. This
gives a diagram of crank-effort, correct so far as friction affects it,
whose area is no longer equal lo that of the indicator diagram.
.The difference, however, does not represent the whole work lost
through friction of the mechanism, since the friction of the shaft
Itself, and of those parts of the engine which it drives, lias still to
be allowed for if the frictional efficiency of the engine as a whole is
in question.
i'" 186. The diagram of crank-effort is further modified when we
take account of the inertia of the piston and connecting-rod. For
the purpose of investigating the effects of inertia, we may assume
that the crank is revolving at a sensibly uniform rate of n tuins
per second. Let M be the mass of the piston, piston-rod, and
crosshead in pounds, and a its acceleration at any instant in feet
per second per second. The force required to accelerate it_ is
lia/g, in pounds-weight, and this is to be deducted in estimating
the effective value of P. The effect is to reduce P during the first
part of the -stroke and to increase it towards the end, thereby
compensating to some extent for the' variation which P undergoes
in consequence of an early cutoff. If the connectirig-rod is so
long that its obliquity may be neglected the piston has simnle
harmonic motion, and
a= - ir^n^r cos a = - ivhi^x ,
where x is the distance of the piston from its middle position.
More generally, whatever ratio the length I of the connecting-rod
bears to that of tbft crank )•,
\ (P-r'sin'a)^ I
The effect is to make, on the diagram of P, a correction of the
character shown in fig. Ill, where the broken line ^d refers to the
case of an indefinitely long con-
necting-rod and the full line ah
to the case of a connectiug-rod
SJ times the length of the crank.
In a vertical engine the weight
of the piston and piston-rod is a
to be added to or subtracted '
th)mP.
To allow for the inertia of
the connecting-rod is a matter
jf somewhat greater difficulty.
Its motion may conveniently pig m
be analysed as consisting of
translation with the velocity of the crosshead, combined with rota-
tion about the crosshead as centre. Hence the force required for
its acceleration is the resultant of three components— Fj, the force
required for the linear ac-
celeration a (which is the
same as that of the piston);
Fj, the force required to
cause angular acceleration
about the crosshead ; and
Fj, the force towards the
centre of rotation, which depends oil the angular velocity, and is
eqnal and opposite to the so-called centrifugal force. Let 6 be the
anwle BAC (fig. 112), tf the angular velocity of the rod about A, and
J its angular acceleration, and let M' be the mass of the rod. Then
F, = M'o/?,
and acts through the centre of gravity G, parallel to AO;
F2=M'. AG.e/sr,
•nd acts at right angles to the rod through the centre of per-
CDssionH; Fj-M'. AG. tf=/3,
and acts aiong the rod towards A. Also,
27mrcoso
Fig. 112.
lad
\ll'^ - r'^ sin '■a.
- 4r^n°rsina(/° - r*)
(P-r'siu'o)'
[WOBK ON CBANK-SHAFT!
The moments of these forces about C are next to bo found, and'
to be deducted from the moment of the thrust in the connecting-rod
(and, if the weight of the rod is to be considered, its momont about
C is to be added) in finding the resultant moment of crank-effort
187. If, however, the friction at the crosshead and crank -pin is
to be taken account of, the whole group of forces acting on the rod
must be considered as follows. Compound forces equal and oppo-
site to F„ F2, and F3 into a single force K (fig. 113), which may
be called the resultant resistance to acceleration of the connecting-
rod. If the weight of the rod is to be considered, let it also betaken
Fig. 113.
as a component in reckoning R. Then the rod may in any position
be regarded as in equilibrium under the action of the forces Q, R,
and S, where Q and S are the forces exerted on it by the crosshead
and crank-pin respectively. These three forces meet in a point p
in R, which is to be found by trial, the condition being that in.
the diagram of forces, fig. 114, after the triangle POQ has boen,
drawn, and the force R set out, the force-line S shall be parallel to
a line drawn from p tangent to the friction-circle of the crank-i)in,'
as in fig. 113. AVhen this condition has been satisfied by trial,
the value of S, which is the thrust on the crank-pin, is determined,'
and S . CM is the moment of crank-effort. This method is due to
the late Prof Fleeraing Jenkin, who has applied it with groat
generality to the determination of the frictional efficiency of ma-
chinery in two important papers,' the second of which deals iu
detail with the dynamics of the steam-engine. Fig. 115, taken
Fig. 118.
from that paper, shows the diagram of crank-effort in a horizontal.
direct-acting engine, — the full line with friction, and the dotted!
line without friction, — the inertia of the piston and connecting
rod being taken account of, as well as the weight of the latter. It
exhibits well the influence which the inertia of the reciprocating
parts has in equalizing the crank-effort in the case of an early cut-
off. The cut-off is supposed to occur pretty sharply at about ono-
sixth of the stroke. The engine considered is of practical propor-
tions, and makes four turns per second ; and the initial steam
pressure is 60 lb per square inch. It appears from the diagram'
that, with a slightly higher speed, or with heavier rods, a better
balance of crank-effort might be secured, especially as regards th«
stroke towards the
crank, which comes
first in the dia-
gram; on the other
hand, by unduly
increasiugthe mass
of the reciprocat-
ing pieces or their
speed the inequal-
ity due to expan- F'O- 116.— Ciank-Etfort DlaKram for Two Cranks,
sion would be over-corrected and a new inequality would come in.
188. When two or more cranks act on the same shaft, the joint
moment of crank-effort is found by combining the diagrams fo«
the separate cranks, in the manner illustrated by fig. 116. XThicM
refers to the case of two cranks at right angles. \
Another graphic method of exhibiting the variations of momenta
exerted on the crank-shaft during a revolution is to draw a circular
diagram of crank-effort, in which lines proportional to the moment
are set off radially from a circular line which represents the zero of
moment. An example of this plan is given in fig. 117, which
shows the resultant moment determined by Mr A. C. Kirk for
one of his triple-expansion engines with three cranks set at 120°
from each other. Curves are drawn for various speeds, giving in
each case the resultant moment due to the steam pressure (■■
I n-aitj. y^tjjr. Soe. Edin., vol. xxviii. p. 1 and p. 703.
BTATIONAKV ENGINES.]
STEAM-ENGINE
611
dctcrminea from actual indicatov diagrams) combined with the
lomenU due to the inertia of the reciprocating parb. The mo
mS 0 U the etcam line without inertia-or, m other words,
tiictua-
ions of
peed.
irl>eej.
Fio. 117.— Clicolar Diagram of Cnmk-Eflort for a Three-Cylinder Engine.
{he curve corresponding to an indefinitely slow speed. The other
curves refer to the number of revolutions per minute marked on
189. To determine the fluctuations of speed during a revolution,
the resultant diagram of work done on the crank-shaft is to be
compared with a similar diagram drawn to show the work done hy
the shaft in overcoming its own friction, and in overcoming the
resistance of the mechanism which it drives. In general the re-
sistance may be taken as constant, and the diagram of effort exerted
by the crank-shaft is then a straight line, as EFGHIJKL in fig.
118. At F, G, H, T, J, and K the rate at which work is being
done on and by
the shaft is the
[function same ; hence at
rf fly- these points the
fly - wheel is
neither gaining
norlosingspced.
The shaded area
above FO is an P,^_ jjj
excess of work ' , „ , , ,.
done on the crank, and raises the speed of the fly-wheel from a raim-
mura at F to a maximum at G. From G to H the fly-wheel supplies
the defect of energy shown by the shaded area below GH, by which
the demand for work exceeds the supply ; its speed again reaches a
minimum at H, and again a maximum at I. The excesses and de-
fects balance in each revolution if the engine is making a constant
number of turns per second. In what follows it is assumed that they
are only a small fraction of the whole energy held by the fly-wheel.
Let AE bo the greatest single amount of energy which the fly-
wheel has to give out or absorb, as determined by measuring the
shaded areas of the diagram ; and lot wj and u, be the maximum
and minimum values of the wheel's angular velocity, which occur
at the extremes of the period during which it is storing or sup-
plying the energy AE. The mean angular velocity of the wheel
«„ will be BChsibly equal to i(w,-^u2) if the range through which
the speed varies is moderate. Let Eo be the energy of the fly-wheel
!at this mean speed. Then
where 1 is the moment of inertia of the fly-wheeL
AE-
-i-i-^ — --^ - I«(,(ai - Wj) - 2Eo . — ^— -
The quantity '^ — ^ , which we may write q, is the ratio of the
Wo
extreme range of speed to tho mean speed, and measures tho degree
o£ unsteadiness whicli tlio fly-wheel leaves uncorrected. If tho
problem bo to design a Uy-whecl which will keep q down to an
assigned limit, the energy of tho wheel must be such that
aE
The iroscron recorder, alluded to in § 182, exhibits the degree of
oust cad ine»3 during a single revolution by^the width of the line
which it draws. On tlic other hand, any bending of the line implies'
the quite independent characteristio of unsteadiness from one
revolution to another. The former is due to insufficient fly-wheel
energy, the latter to impoifect governing. ....
100. An iutiiesting consequence of the periodic alternations in
crank-effort which occur in each revolution has been pointed out
by Jlr M. Longiidge.' The fly-wheel receives its alternate ac-
celeration and retardation through cliangcs of tho torsional stress
in the shaft. If these occur at intervals nearly equal to tho period
of free torsional vibration which the fly-wheel possesses in virtue of
the torsional elasticity of tho shaft between it and the crank,
strains of great amplitude will arise ; and Mr Longridgo has
suggested that this may account for the observed f.nct that engine-
shafts have been ruptured when running so that tlio fluctuations of
crauk-elTort occurred with one particular frequency, although tho,
greatest effort was itself much less than tho shaft would, safely
bear,
XI. Examples op STEAM-ExoisEfl.
Stationaet Esgtkes.
191. In classifying engines with regard to their general
arrangement of parts and mode of working, account has
to be taken of a considerable number of independont(
characteristics. We have, first, a general division into
condensing and non-condensing engines, with a subdivision
of the condensing class into those which act by surface
condensation and those which use injection. Next there
is the division into compound and non-compound, with a,
further classification of the former as double-, triple-, oi
quadruple-expansion engines. Again, engines may be
classed as single or double-acting, according as the steam
acts on one or alternately on both sides of the pistop.
Again, a few engines— such as steam-hammers and certain
kinds of steam-pumps — are non-rotative, that is to say.
the reciprocating motion of the piston does work simply
on a reciprocating piece; but generally an engine does
work on a continuously revolving shaft, and is termed
rotative. In most cases the crank-pin of the revolving
shaft is connected directly with the piston-rod by a con-
necting-rod, and the engine is then said to be direct-acting ;
in other cases, of which the ordinary beam-engine is the
most important example, a lever is interposed^ between
the piston and the connecting-rod. The same distinction
applies to non-rotative pumping engines, in some of which,
the piston acts directly on the pump-rod, while in others
it acts through a beam. The position of the cylinder is
another element of classification, giving horizontal, vertical,
and inclined cylinder engines. Many vertical engines are
further distinguished as belonging to the inverted cylinder
class ; that is to say, the cylinder is above the connecting-
rod and crank. In oscillating cylinder engines the connect-
ing-rod is dispensed with; the piston-rod works on the
crank-pin, and the cylinder oscillates on trunnions to allow)
the piston-rod to follow the crank-pin round its circular
path. In trunk engines the piston-rod is dispensed with ;
the connecting-rod extends as far as tho piston, to which it
is jointed, and a trunk or tubular extension of the piston,
through the cylinder cover, gives room for tho rod to
oscillate. In rotary engines there is no piston in the
ordinary sense ; the steam does work on a revolving piece,
and tho necessity is thus avoided of afterwards converting
reciprocating into rotary motion.
192. In tho single-acting atmospheric engino of Wew-
comen tho beam was a neces.sary feature; tho use of water-
packing for the piston required that tho piston should move
down in the working stroke, and a beam was needed to
let tho counterpoise pull the piston up. Watt's improve-
ments made the beam no longer necessary ; and in one ol
the forms ho designed it was discarded— namely, in the
form of puraping-engino known as the Bull engine, m
which a vertical inverted cylinder stands over and acta
directly on the pump-rod. But tho beam type was generally
. J fne. InsL ilech. Bng., Moy 1884, p. 163.
512
STEAM-ENGINE
retained by 'Watt, and for many years it reinained a
favourite with builders of engines of the larger class. The
beam formed a. convenient driver for pump-rods and valve-
rods ; and the parallel motion invented by Watt as a
means of guiding the piston-rod, •n-hich could easily be
applied to a beam-engine, was, in the early days of ergine-
building, an easier thing to construct than the plane
surfaces which are the natural guides of the piston-rod in
a direct-acting engine. In modern practice the direct-
acting type has to a very great extent displaced the beam
type. For miU-driving and the general purposes of a rota-
tive engine the beam type is now rarely chosen. In
pumping engines it is more common, but even there the
tendency is to use direct-acting forms.
193. The only distinctive feature of beam-engines requir-
ing special notice here is the " parallel motion," an ordinary
I
form of which is shown diagram-
maticaUy in fig. 119. There MN
is the path in which the piston-
rod head, or crosshead, as it is
often called, is to be guided.
ABC is the middle line of. half
the beam, C being the fised centre
about which the beam oscillates.
A link BD connects a point in the beam with a radius link
ED, which oscillates ' about a fixed centre at E. A point
P in BD, taken so that BP : DP :: EN : CM, moves in a
path which coincides very closely with the straight line
MPN. Any other point F in the line CP or CP produced
^
i
Fio. 119.— Watt's Parallel
Motion.
[STATIONAEIJ
is made to copy this motion by means of the links AF and
FG, parallel to BD and AC. In the ordinary application of
the parallel motion a point such as F is the point of attach-
ment of the piston-rod, and P is used to drive a pump-rod.
Other points in the line CP produced are occasionally made
use of, by adding other links parallel to AC and BD.*
AVatt's linkage gives no more than an approximation to
straight-line motion, but in a well-designed example the
amount of deviation need not exceed one four-thousandth
of the length of stroke. It was for long believed that the
production of an exact straight-line motion by pure linkage
was impossible, until the problem was solved by the
invention of the Peaucellier cell.^ The Peaucellier linkage
has not been applied to the steam-engine, except in isolated
cases.
19i. Another "parallel motion " which has been used in
steam-engines is shown 'in fig. 120. AB is a link pivoted
on a fixed centre at A, and connected to the middle of
another link PQ, which is twice
the length of AB. Q is guided
to move in a straight line in the i
direction of AQ. P then move
in an exact straight line through ^
A. This is not a pure linkage, •
since Q slides in a fixed guide, i^
but the distance through which
Q has to be guided is small compared with the stroke of
P. If Q is guided to move in the arc of a circle of larga
radius, by using a radius rod from a fixed centre above or
Fig. 120.
Fig. 122.
Fio. 121. — Small Horizontal Direct-Acting Steam Engine ; Side Eleratlon.
Fig. 122.— Plan.
Fio. 123.— Section on AB In flg: J21,
below it, the guiding surfaces at Q are avoided, but the
path of P is then only very nearly straight. An example
of the linkage in this form, with the further modification
tTiat A is shifted out, and B is brought nearer to P, occurs
in the pumping engine of fig. 130 below.
In by far the greater number of modern steam-engiues
the crosshead is guided by a block sliding on planed sur-
faces. In many beam-en f^incs, even, this plan of guiding
the piston has taken the place of the parallel motion.
195. No type of Bteam-engine is so common as the horizontd
direct-acting. A small engine of this type, made by Messrs
Tangye, and rated as a lO-horse-power engine, is illustrated in figi
121 to 124. It furnishes a good example of a very numerous class,
and serves to illustrate the principal parts of a complete engioa
Fig. 121 is a side elevation, fig. 122 a plan, fig. 123 a transverse
section through the bedplate in front of the cylinder, on the lino
1 The kinematics of the parallel motion are discussed in Ranklne's ifachinerj
and Mill Work, p. 275, and rules are given for the proportioDS and positions ol
the parts.
3 See Kempe'8 Cov, to Draa a SlraigM Lint(," Nature Siiles,"), 1878
•8NGINES.]
STEAM-ENGINE
513
■ S3 ; and fig. 124 is a horizontal section through the cylinder, valvo-
thest, valve, stuffing-boxes, piston, and crossUead. The bedplate
ion through Cylinder and Valve-Chest.
13 a single hollow casting, with two surfaces planed on it to serve
as guides (see fig. 123). At one end the bedplate forms a pillow-
block for the shaft, which has another main bearing independently
supported beyond the fly-wheel. At the other end the bedplate
is shaped so as to form the cylinder cover ; the cylinder is bolted
to this and overhangs the bed.
The cylinder (of 10 inches diameter and 20 inches stroke) con-
sists of an internal "liner" of cast-iron, exactly bored, and fitted
within an external cylindrical casting, of which the ports and sides
of the valve-chest form part. The space between the liner and the
external cylinder serves as a steam-jacket. The use of a separate
liner within the main cylinder is now general in large engines.
In the front cylinder cover there is a stuffing-bo.K through which
the piston-rod passes. The stuffing-box is kept, steam-tight by
a soft packing which is pressed in by a gland. In some in-
stances the packing consists of metallic rings. The cylinder cover
and gland are lined with a brass ring in the hole through which
the piston-rod passes. The valve-rod is brought out of the valve-
chest in the same way. The piston is a hollow casting into which
the piston-rod is screwed and riveted over. It is packed by two
split rings of cast-iron, which are sprung into recesses turned in
the circumference of the piston.- This mode of packing is used in
locomotives and small engines. For large pistons the usual plan
is to employ wider split rings, called floating rings, pressed against
the sides of the cylinder, not by their own elasticity, but by sepa-
rate springs behind them in the body of the piston ; they are held
iin place by a movable flange called a junk-ring on one face of the
'piston. One example of the packing of a large piston is shown
m fig. 134. The crosshead consists of a steel centre-piece with a
round boss, in which the piston-rod is secured by a cotter, and a
forked front, where the end of the connecting-rod works on a pin.
A pair of pins at top and bpttom carry tlie steel shoes or sliding-
blocks, whose distance from the centre is adjustable by nuts to take
np wear. There is no crank; the connecting-rod works on a pin
fixed in a disk on the end of the shaft in front of the main bear-
ing. The valve-rod, which is worked by an eccentric just behind
the bearing, is extended through the end of. the valve-chest, and
forms the plunger of a feed-pump which is bolted to the end of the
chest. Frequently the feed-pirmp is fixed at any convenient part
of the bedplate, and is driven by a senarate eccentric, and in some
cases its plunger is connected directly to the crosshead. In the
main bearing the shaft turns in gun-metal or phosphor-bronze
blocks called brasses. In heavy engines these are generally lined
jwith Babbit's anti-friction metal or other soft alloy, and in many
modern engines the brasses are entirely dispensed with, a lining
of Babbit's metal being let into the cast-iron surface of the bear-
ing. When the brasses are in two pieces, tho plane of division
between them is chosen to be that in which tho wear is likely to be
least. A more satisfactory adjustment is possible when the brasses
■- are in three or more pieces.
C'SBdenser 196. When a condenser is used with a small horizontal engine it
»nd air-~ is usually placed behind tho cylinder ; and the air-pump, which is
Fig. 125, FIR. 126.
Condenser ond Alr-Pump.
within tho condenser, is a horizontal plunger or pistoD-pump
worked by a " tail-rod "—that is, a continuation of the piston-rod
post the piston and through the buck cover of tlio cylinder. Figs.
125 and I'Jti show in .section one of Messrs 'ranK>-i''s suiiiU rnndcnsers
fitted with a double-acting nirpuin]) to bo driven by a tiiilrod.
The condenser proper is tho chamber A, and into it the injection-
water streams continuously through perforations in the pipe B,
which has a cock outside to regulate the supply. The pumn draws
condensed water down to the lower part of the vessel at eitner end
olternately through the valves C, and forces it up thence through
the valves D to a chamber E, from which the dcliverj'-pipe leads
out. The fump is a gun-metal piston working in a cylinder fitted
with a gun-inetal liner. The valves are flat india-rubber rings held
down in the centre by a spring, which allows them to open by rising
bodily, as well as by bending.
197. The engine of figs. 121-4 makes 85 revolutions per minute,
and its mean piston speed is consequently about 280 feet per minute.
In some special forms of small horizontal engine the design is adapted
to a much more rapid reciprocation of the moving masses, and the
piston speed is raised to a value seldom exceeded in the largest land
engines, although still higher values are now common in marine
practice. Experience shows that the weight of engines of any one
type varies roughly as the piston area. Their power depends on
the product of piston area, piston speed, and pressure ; and hence,
so long as the pressures are similar, the ratio of power to weight
is nearly proportional to piston speed. Cases present themselves
in which it is desirable to make this ratio as great as possible;
and, apart from this, an engine making a large number of re-
volutions per minute is a convenient motor for certain high-speed
machines.
A good example of a small horizontal engine, specially designed
by the symmetry and balance of its parts, by largeness of the
bearing surfaces, and by very perfect lubrication, to stand the
strains which are caused by high speed, is the Armington k Sims
engine, made in America by the patentees and in England by
Messrs Greenwood & Batley. The bedplate is symmetrical about
the line of motion of the crosshead ; it supplies two very long main
bearings for the shaft, at each end of which there is an overhung
fly-wheel. The bearings have an adjustable side-block to take
up wear. They are formed entirely of white-metal, cast on to the
cast-iron pillow-blocks. In the middle are two disks, ' forming
crank-cheeks, which are weighted opposite the crank-pin, so that
they balance the pin and that part of the connecting-rod which
may be treated as having its mass applied there. The crank-pin
and the crosshead-pin are wide enough to give a large bearing area.
The crosshead-block is a hollow bronze casting, giving an excep-
tionally large surface of contact with the guides. The valve is a
piston-valve of the Trick type, which works sufficiently tight
without packing. The valve-rod and eccentric-rod are connected
through a block which slides on a fixed guide. Tho governor,
which has been already illustrated in fig. 100, is contained within
one of the fly-wheels. An engine of this type, with a cylinder
12 inches in diameter and a stroke of 12 inches, makes 275 revo-
lutions per minute, has a piston speed of 650 feet per minute, and
indicates about 80 horse-power. Other good examples of high
speed combined with double action are furnished by the Porter-
AUen engine ' and by the very light engines which Mr Thorneycroft
and others have introduced for driving fans to supply air to the
closed stokeholes of torpedo-boats. In these a speed of 1000
revolutions per minute is made possible by the use of light recipro-
cating parts and large bearing surfaces. , r. i-
193. Fig. 127 shows a large non-compound horizontal Corliss Larg*
engine for mill-driving, by Messrs Hick, Hargreaves, & Co. The horir-
cylinder is 34 inches in diameter, the stroke 8 feet, and the speed t.orli»
45 revolutions per minute, giving a mean piston speed of 720 feet ongia*^
per minute. The cylinder is steam-jacketed round tho barrel in tho
space between the liner and the outer cylinder, and also at the ends,
which are cast hollow for this purpose. In large horizonUl engines
the weifht of tho piston tends to cause excessive wear on the lower
side of the cylinder. In the example shown a part of tho weight
is borne by a tail-rod, ending in a block, which slides on a fixed
guide bchiud tho cylinder. To further diminish wear the piston is
sometimes made much wider from front to back tlian the one shown
here ; and the device is sometimes resorted to of giving the piston-
rod ''camber"— that is to say, an upward curvature ii- tho middle
poriion, which the weight of the piston reduces to straightnossu
Fig 127 illustrates a common method of attaching the air-pump and
condenser in large horizontal engines. Tho condenser is placed in,
a well in front of the cylinder, and the air-pump, which is a vertical
bucket-pump, is worked by a bell-crank lever, connected with the
crosshead by a link. Tho fly-wheel of this engine is grooved for
rope-gearing; it is, cast in segments, which are bolted to one
another and to tho spokes, and the spokes are secured by cotters m
tapered sockets in the nave. It is large and heavy, to suit tne
in'-|uality of driving oflort winch is caused by the use of a single
cylinder and a very early cutofl' in engines of this class. To JaciU-
tiite starting and v, Ive-setting, mill engines are often provided with
an auxiliary called a " barring" engine. The Imrring engine tunui
a toothed pinion, which gears into a toothed fim in tho llywhoel
and is contrived to fall automatically out of gear as soon *» Uuf
main engine starts. '
I Proc. Jiul. Mcch. Bug.
1868.
XXII.
— 611
514
S T E A M-E N G I N E
[station- Attir
199. TVhen unifonnity of driving effort or the absence of dead-
points is specially important, two independent cjUnders are often
coupled to the tame Bhalt by cranks at right angles to each other,
an arrangement which allows the engine to be started readily from
any position. The ordinary locomotive is an example of this form.
Among fixed engines of the larger kind, winding engines, in which
ease of starting, stopping, and reversing is essential, are very gene-
rally made by coupling a pair of horizontal cylinders, with cranks
at right angles to each other, on opposite sides of the winding-drum,
r with the link-motion as the means of operating the valves.
Com- 200. Non-compound engines of so large a size as that of fig. 127
pound are comparatively uncommon. Horizontal engines of the larger
horizontal class are generally compounded either (1) by having a high and a
engines, low pressure cylindel- side by side, working on two cranks at exactly
or nearly right angles to each other, or (2) by placing one cylinder
behind the other, with the axes of both in the same straight line.
The latter is called tba tandem arrangement. In it one piston-rod
is generally common to both cylinders ; occasionally, however,
the piston-rods are district and are connected to one another by
la framing of parallel bars outside of the cylinders. Another con-
Direc^
acting
TCrtical
cylinder
engine.
struction, rarely followed, is to have parallel cyliadeu »ith both
piston-rods acting on one crank hy being joined to opposite vudo of
one long crosshead. In some recent compound engines the la.ga
cylinder is horizontal, and the other lies above it in an incli.icl
position, with- its connecting-rod working on the tame craulc-
pin.
In tandem engines, since the pistons move together, tiicre is
no need to provide a receiver between the cylinders. It is practic-
able to follow the "Woolf" plan of allowing the steam to expand
directly from the small into the large cylinder , anu in many
instances this is done. In point of fact, however, the counecting-
pipe and steam-chest form an intermediate recei»ei of considerable
size, which will cause loss by "drop" (§ 113) unles.« steam oo cut
i off in the large cylinder before the end of the stroke. Hence it
is more usual to work with a moderately early cit-off in the lo>v-
pressure cylinder than to use the " Woolf " plan oi admittii-i; stean;
to it throughout the whole stroke. Unless it is desired tu make
the cut-off occur before h.ilf-stroke, a common slide-valve will
serve to distribute steam to the large cylinder. For an earlie.-
cut-off than this a separate expansion-valve is required oh the
low-pressure cylinder, to supplement the slide-valve j and in any
case, by providing a separate expansion-valve, the point of cut-
off is made subject to easy control, and may be adjusted so as
to avoid drop or to divide the work as may be desired between the
two cylinders.' For this reason it is not unusual to find an expan-
sion-valve, as well as a common slide-valve, on the low-pressure
cylinder even of tandem engines. In many cases, however, the
common slide-valve only is used. On the high-pressure cylinder
Fio. 127.— Horizontal Corliss Condenslnp Engine.
of compound engines, the cut-off is usually effected either by an
expansion slide-valve or by some form of Corliss or other trip-
gear.
For mill engines the compound tandem and compound coupled
types are now the most usual, and the high-pressure cylinder is
very generally fitted with Corliss gear. In the compound coupled
arrangement the cylinders are on separate bedplates, and the fly-
wheel is between the cranks.
201. The general arrangement of vertical engines differs little
from that of horizontal engines. The cylinder is usually supported
above the shaft by a cast-iron frame resembling an inverted A,
whose sides are kept parallel for a part of their length to serve as
guides for the erosshe.-vd. Sometimes one side of the frame only
is used, and the engine is stiffened by a wrought-iron column be-
tween the cylinder and the base on the other side. Wall-engines
are a vertical form with a flat frame or bedplate, which is made to
be bolted against a wall ; in these the shaft is generally it the top.
Vertical engines are compounded, like horizontal engines, either
by coupling parallel cylinders to cranks at right angles (as in the
ordinary marine form, which will be illustrated later, § 218), or,
tandem fashion, by placing the high-pressure cylinder above the
other. In vertical condensing engines the condenser is situated at
the base, and the air-pump, which has a vertical stroke, is gene-
rally worked by a lever connected by a short link to the cross-
head. In some rases the pump is horizontal, and is worked by a
crank on the main shaft.
202. Engines making 400 to 1600 revolutions per minute have
been extensively applied, in recent yeai-s, to the driving of dynamos
and other high-speed machines. These are for the most part single-
acting ; steam is admitted to the back of the piston only, and the High-
connecting-rod is in compression throughout the whole revolution, speed
Besides simplifying the valves, this has the important advantage single-
that alternation of strain at the joints may be entirely avoided, acting
with the knocking and wear of the brasses which it is apt to cause, engines
To secure, however, that the connecting-rod shall always push,
there must be much cushioning during the back or exhaust stroke.
From a point near the middle of the back stroke to the end the
piston is being retarded ; and, as this must not be done by the rod
(which would thereby be required to pull), cushioning must begin
there, and the work spent upon the cushion must at every stage be
at least as great as the loss of energy on the part of the piston am/
rod. In some single-acting engines this cushioning is done hy
compressing a portion of the exhaust steam ; in others the rod is
kept in compression by help of a supplementary piston, on which
steam from the boiler presses ; in Mr Willans's engine the cushion-
ing is done by compressing air.
203. A very successful example of the multiple-cylinder singloi
acting high-speed type is the three-cylinder engine introduced by
Mr Brotherhood in 1873, the most .-ecent form of which is shown
in figs. 128 and 129. Fig. 128 is a longitudinal and fig. 129 a trans-
verse section. Three cylinders, set at 120° apart, project from a
closed casing, the central portion of which forms the exhaust.
The pistons are of the trunk type — that is to say, there is a joint
in the piston itself which allows the piston-rod to oscillate, and no
makes a separate connecting-rod unnecessary. The tliree rods
work on a single crank-pin, which is counterbalanced by raa.'ises
1 Or, altei-natively, the adjustment muy be made bo that tJie Bt£un undersnca
equal changes of temperature In t)oth cj-lindera.
SN0INE3.]
STEAJI-E NGINE
515
fi.Tcd to tlio crank cheeks on the other side of the shaft Steam la
admitted to the back of the pistons only. It passes first through
e thtottle-valve, wliich is controlled by a centrifugal spring-governor
(fig. 128), and ia then distributed to the cylinders by three piston-
valves A, workoi cy tn eccentric, tho sheave of which is n\ado
hollow BO as It overhang one of the main bearings (fig. 128).
Release uikes place by the piston itself uncovering exhaust ports
iu tlio circumference of the cylinder, aud the rocking motion of ths
:^
Fio. 1J8 Brotherhood's Thr«e-CyUnder Engino : longitadlnal aecUon.
piston-rod is taken advantage of to open a supplementary exhaust
port (B, fig. 129), which remains open during a sufficient portion of
the back stroke. The flexible coupling C shown in fig. 128, in
which the twisting moment of the shaft is transmitted through
disks of leather, prevents straining of the shaft aud bearings
through any want of alignment between the shaft of the engine and
that of the mechanism it drives. Besides its use as a steam-engine,
Mr Brotherhood's pattern has been extensively applied in driving
torpedoes by means of compressed air. As a steam-engine it is
compounded by placing a high-pressure cylinder outside of and
tandem with each low-pressure cylinder.
204. In other engines of this type a pair of cylinders, or a high
and a low pressure cylinder, are set vertically side by side, to work on
cranks opposite each other. The cranks and connecting-rods are
completely enclosed, and are lubricated by dipping into a mi.^ture
of oil and water with which the lower part of the casing is filled.
In the Wcstinghouse engine, where there are two vertical cylin-
ders to which steam is admitted by a piston-valve, the crank-shaft
is situated half a crank's length out of the line of stroke, to reduce
the effects of the connecting-rod's obliquity during the working
stroke.^ In Mr Willans's latest form of engine the high and low
pressure cylinders are tandem, and the space between the piston
forms an intermediate receiver. Tho piston-rod is hollow, and has
a piston-valve in it which controls the admission of steam to the
high-pressure cylinder and its transfer to the low-pressure cylinder.
The piston-valve within the rod takes its differential motion from
an eccentric on the crank-pin. The crosshead, is itself a piston
working in a cylindrical guide, in which it compresses air as it rises
during the hack stroke in order to cushion the reciprocating parts.'
205. In engines for pumping or for blowing air it is not essential
to drive a revolving shaft, aud in many forms the reciprocating
motion of the steam-piston is applied directly or through a beam
to produce the reciprocating motion of the pump-piston or plunger.
On the other hand, pumping engines are frequently made rotative
for the sake of adding a fly-wheel. "When the level of the suction
water is sufficiently high, horizontal engines, with the pump behind
the cylinder and in linewithit, are generally preferred; in other cases
a beam-engine or vertical direct-acting engine is more common.
Horizontal engines are, however, employed to pump water from
any depth by using triangular rocking frames, which servo as hell-
crank levers between the horizontal piston and vertical pump-rods.'
Fig. 130 shows a compoimd inverted vertical pumping engine of
the non-rotative class, by Messrs Hathorn, Davey, & Co. Steam is
distributed- through lift valves, anJ the engine is governed by tho
differential gear illustrated in fig. 107, in conjunction with a cataract,
which makes tho pistons pause at the end of each stroke. The jiistons
arc in line with two pump-rods, and are coupled by an inverted beam
which gives guidance to the crossheads by means of an njiproxiinate
straight-line motion, which is a modific.ition of that of fig. 120.
Surface condensers are frequently used with pumping engines, tho
water which the engine pumps serving as circulating water.
206. In a very numerous class of directaeting steam-pumps, th«
steam-piston and the pump-piston or plnnger are on tho same
piston-rod. In some of these a rotative element is introduced,
partly to secure uniformity of motion, and partly for convenience
of working the valves ; a connccting-vod is taken from some point
in the piston-rod to a crankshaft which carries a fly-wheel ; or a
' SCO EiiQintfrtng, AuRUat 13, IRSfi.
- Seo "DlHCaSHiun on HIrJi Spt;ea Motor*." 3/(ff. Proc. Intt. C.E..Nov. 1886.
' For an nccoiint of bconi and niV.jr r-ifna of votathc pumplnft cn((lnea, ioe a
paper by Mr Bleb, and icmurUa by Mr J, O. Ualr, In Min. J'roc. intt. OJ,
AprU ISS'!.
Fio, 129.— Brotherhood's Three-Cylinder Engine : transverse section.
slotted crosshead fixed to the rod gives rotary motion to a crank-
pin gearing into the slot, the line of the slot being perpendicular to
that of the stroke. Many other steam-puinps are strictly non-rota-
tive. In some the valve is worked by tappets from the piston-rod.
In the Blake steam-pump a tappet worked by the piston as it reaches
each end of its stroke throws over an auxiliary steam-valve, whicb
Fio. 180.— Verticil Non-Rotative Ptmplng Engine.
admits steam to one or other side of an auxiliary' piston carrying tlie
main slide-valve. In Cameron & Floyd's form one of a pair of
tappet-valves at the ends of the cylinder is opened by the piston
as it reaches the end of the stroke, and puts one or other side of an
auxiliary piston, which carries tho slide-valve, into communication
with the exhaust, so that it is thrown over. In tho Worthington
engine — a design which has had much success in America, and is
now being introduced in England by Messrs Simpson — two steam
cylinders arc placed side by side, each working its own pump-piston.
The piston-rod of each is connected by a short link to a swinging
bar, which actuates the slide-valve of the other steam-cylinder. In
this way one piston begins its stroke when the motion of the other
is about to cease, and & smooth and continuous action is secured. _
207. The Worthington engine has been extensively applied, on » WortB
largo scale, to raise water for the supply of towns and to force oil irgloia
through "pipe-lines" m the United States. In the larger sizes iti»eiiginBf
made compound, each high-pressure cylinder baring a low-piossuro ,
cylinder tandem with it on the same rod. Owing to the lightness
of the reciprocating masses, and their comparatively slow accelera-
tion, their inertia a^es not compensate, to any great extent, for tho
inequality of pressure on tho pump-piston that would be caused
by an carlv cut-on ia the steam cylinder (seo § 186). To moot
this difficulty, and make hi^h expansion practicable, on ingen-
ious oddition has recently been made to the engine.* A croM-
head A (fig. 131) fixed to each of the piston-rods is connected to tho
piston-rods of a pair of oscillating cylinders B, B, which contain
water and communiiato with a reservoir full of air compressed to ft
pressure of about 300 ft per square inch. When the stroke (which
• Uui. i^-oc. Intl. C.e., 1880, part Iv. ; E'lgiiuerin'}, Auguit JO, ISSfl.
516
S T E A M-E N G I N E
[stationary ENGINEaL
Fig. 131.
takes place in the direction of the arrow) begins the pistons are at
first forced in, and work is at first done by the main piston-rod,
through the compensating cylinders
B, B, on the compressed air in the
reservoir. This continues until the
crosshead has advanced so that the
cylinders stand at right angles to
the line of stroke. Then for the re-
mainder of the stroke the compen-
sating cylinders assist in driving
the main piston, and the compressed
air gives out the energy which it
stored in the earlier portion. The
volume of the air reservoir is so
much greater than the volume of
the cylinders B, B that the air
pressure remains nearly constant throughout the stroke. Any leak-
age from the cylinder or reservoir is made good by a small pump
which the engine drives. One advantage which this method of
equalizing the effort of a steam-engine piston has (as compared with
making itse of the inertia of the reciprocating masses) is that the
effort, when adjusted to be uniform at one speed, remains uniform
although the speed be changed, provided the inertia of the recipro-
cating parts he small. In the Worthington "high-duty" engine,
where this plan is in use, the high and low pressure cylinders are
each provided with a separate expansion-valve of the rocking-
cylinder type, as well as a slide-valve ; the cut-off is early, and the
efficiency is as high as in other pumping engines of the best class.
208. Mr Hall's "pulsometer" is a peculiar pumping engine
without cylinder or piston, which may be regarded as the modern
representative of tho engine of Savery (§ 6). ,The sectional view,
fig. 132, shows its principal parts. There are two chambers A, A',
narrowing towards the top, where the
steam-pipe B enters. A ball-valve C allows
steam to pass into one of the chambers and
closes the other. Steam entering (say) the
right-hand chamber forces water out of it
past the clack-valve V into a delivery pas-
sage D, which is connected with an air-
vessel. When the water-level in A sinks
so far that steam begins to blow through
the delivery-passage, the water and steam
are disturbed and so brought into intimate
contact, the steam in A is condensed, and
a partial vacuum is formed. This causes
the ball-valve C to rock over and close the
top of A, while water rises from the suc-
tion-pipe E to fill that chamber. At the
same time steam begins to enter the other
chamber A', discharging water from it, and
the same series of actions is repeated in
either chamber alternately. While the water
is being driven out there is comparatively i'lo. 132.— Pofsometer.
little condensation of steam, partly because the shape of the vessel
does not promote the formation of eddies, and partly because there
is a cushion of air between the
steam and the water. Near the
top of each chamber is a small
air-valve opening inwards, which
allows a little air to enter each
time a vacuum is formed. When
any steam is condensed, the air
mixed with, it remains on the
cold surface and forms a non-con-
ducting layer. The pulsometer
is, of course, far from effi : 'ent as
a thermodynamic engine, but its
suitability for situations where
other steam-pumps cannot be
used, and the extreme simplicity
of its working parts, make it
valuable in certain cases.
209. AVe have seen that the
tendency of modern steam prac-
tice is towards higher pressures,
and that this means again both
in efficiency and in power for a
eiven wei"ht of engine. High ,„„ ,^
pressure, or indeed Iny pressure ^.o. 133.-Dayey Motor,
materially above that of the atmosphere, is out of the question when
engine and boiler are to work without the rfg-al„i j-resenoe of an
attendant. Mr Davey has recently introduced a domestic motor
which deserves notice from the fact that it employs steam at atmo-
spheric pressure. One form of this successful little engine is shown
in fig. 133; The boiler — which serves as the fiamo of tho engine
— is of cast-iron, and is fitted with a cast-iron intomal f.re-box,
with a vertical flue which is traversed by a water-bridge. The
cylinder, which is enclosed within the upper part of tho boiler»
and the piston are of gun-metal, and wors without lubrication.
Steam is admitted by an ordinary slide-valve, also of gun-metal,
worked by an eccentric in the usual way. The condenser stand*
behind the boiler ; it consists of a number of upright tubes in a box,
through which a current of cold water circulates from a supply-pipe
at the bottom to an overflow-pipe at the top. In larger sizes of the
motor the cylinder stands on a distinct frame, and the boiler has a
hopper fire-box, which will take a charge of coke sufficient to drive
the engine for several hours without attention. About 6 or 7 lb of
coke are burned per horse-power per hour.
210. From the earliest days of the rotative engine attempts have
been made to avoid the intermittent reciprocating motion which an
ordinary piston-engine first produces and then converts into motion
of rotation. Murdoch, the contemporary of Watt, proposed aa
engine consisting of a pair of spur-wheels geariug with one another
in a chamber through which steam passed by being carried rounil
the outer sides of the wheels in the spaces between successive teeth.*
In a mora modem wheel-engine (Dudgeon's) the steam was
admitted by ports in side-plates into the clearance space be-
hind teeth in gear with one another, just after they had passed,
the line of centres. From that poiut to the end of the arc of
contact the clearance space increased in volume ; and it was there-
fore possible, by stopping the admission of steam at an intermediate-
point, to work expansively. The difficulty of maintaining steam-
tight connexion between the teeth and the side-plates on which the
faces of the wheels slide is obvious ; and the same difficulty has
prevented the success of many other forms of rotary engine. These
have been devised in immense variety, in many cases, it would
seem, with the idea that a distinct mechanical advantage was to be
secured by avoiding the reciprocating motion of a piston.^ In.
point of fact, however, very few forms entirely escape having pieces
with reciprocating motion. In aU rotary engines, with the excep-
tion of steam turbines, — where work is done by the kinetic impulse
of steam, — there are s,team chambers which alternately expand and
contract in volume, and this action usually takes place through a.
more or less veiled reciprocation of workin" parts. So long as
engines work at a moderate speed there is little advantage in avoid-
ing reciprocation ; the alternate starting and stopping of piston and
piston-rod does not affect materially the frictional efficiency, throws
no deleterious strairt on the joints, and need not disturb tho equi-
librium of the machine as a whole. The case is different when very
.high speeds are concerned ; it is then desirable as far as possible to
limit the amount of reciprocating motion and to reduce the masse*
that partake in it.
211. A recent interesting and successful example of the rotarj Tctm
type is the spherical engine of Mr Beauchamp Tower,' which, like spberi
several of its predecessors,* is based on the kinematic relations of eai s<
the moving pieces in a Hooke's joint. Imagine a Hooke's joint,
uniting two shafts set obliquely to one another, to be made up of a
central disk to which the two shafts are hinged by semicircular
plates, each plate working in a hinge which forms a diameter of the
central disk, tHe two hinges being on opposite sides of the disk and
at right angles to one another. Further, let the disk and the
hinged pieces be enclosed in a spherical chamber through whose
walls the shafts project. As the shafts revolve each of the four
spaces bounded by the disk, a hinged piece, and the chamber wall
will suffer a periodic increase and diminution of volume, between,
limits which depend on the angle at which the shafts are set. _ la.
lir Tower's engine this arrangement is modified by using spherical
sectors, each a quarter sphere, in place of semicircular plates, for
the pieces in which the shafts terminate. The shafts are set at 135".
lEach of the four enclosed cavities then alters in volume from zero
to a quarter sphere, back to zero, again to a quarter sphere, and
again back to zero, in a complete revolution of the sliafts. In
practice the central disk is a plate of finite thickness, whose edg»
is kept steam-tight in the enclosing chamber by spring-packing,
and the sectors are reduced to an extent corresponding to the
thickness of the central disk. One shaft is a dummy and luns
free, the other is the driving-shaft. Steam is admitted and
exhausted by ports in the spherical sectors, whose backs serve as
revolving slide-valves. It is admitted to each cavity during the
first part of each periodical increase of the cavity's volume. It ia
then cut off and allowed to expand as the cavity further enlargej,
and is exhausted as the cavity contracts. If the working shaft, to
which the driven mechanism serves as a fly-wheel, revolves uni-
formly, the dummy shaft is alternately accelerated and retarded-
Apart from this, the only reciprocating motion is the , small
amount of oscillation which the comparatively light central disk
undergoes.
Another rotary engine of the Hooke's-joint family is Mr Field-
» £ee Farcy's TreaiUe on the Steam Engine, p. 676.
2 A laige numoer of proposed rotary engines are described, and their kine-
matic relations to one another are discussed, in Reoleaux's Kinematic* of
Machinery, translated by Prof. Kennedy.
s Ptoc. Init. Mech. Eni., Marcli 1S86. . ^ ^ ^
* One of these, the dlsk-enRine of Bishop, was used tor a time In tHe prUJUae
ofBce of The Timet, but was discarded In 1857.
I.B1NK KNGINES.
S T E A M-E N G I N E
tog's' ill whicli a gimbal-ring and four curved pistons take the
rftce of the disk. Two curved pistons are fixed on each side of the
Embal-rin". and as the shafts revolve these work in a correspond.
tag pair of cavities, which may be called curved cylinders, fixed
*°212 Attenipts have been made from time to time to devise
•feam-en^ines of the turbine class, where rotation of a wheel is pro-
duced either by reaction from a jc* of escaping steam or by impact
•f a let upon revolving blades. A. revolving piece which is to
extract even a respectable fraction of the kinetic energy of a steam
," must move with excessive velocity. In Mr C. A. Par.sonss
•team-turbine this difficulty is overcome and a moderate degree ol
effiriency is secured by using a sf • ies of central-flow turbine whee s,
in the form of perforatt-d disk, all on one shaft, with fixed disks
between which are perforated to serve as guide-bladcs. bteam
pi«ses from end to end of the series, giving up a small portion ot
^ energy to each,-but retaining little at the end.
XII. Marine Enoike-s.
213. The early steamers were fitted with paddle-wheels,
and the engines used to drive them we,re for the most part
modified beam-engines. . Bell's "Comet" (§ 21) was driven
by a species of inverted beam-engine, ftnd another form
of inverted beam, known as the side-lever engine,_ was for
loug a favourite with marine engineers. In the side-lever
engine the cylinder was vertical, and the piston-rod pro-
jected through the top. From a crosshead on the rod a
pair of links, one on each side of the cylinder, led down
to the ends of a pair of horizontal beams or levers below,
which oscillated about a fixed gudgeon at or near, the
middle of their length. The two levers were joined at
their other ends by a crosstail, from which a connecting-
rod was taken to the crank above. The side-lever engine
is now obsolete.
In American practice, ".ngines of the beam type, with a
braced-beam supported on A frames above the deck, are
stiU common in river-tteamers and coasters.
214. An old form of direct-acting paddle-engine was
the steeple-engine, in v%hich the cylinder was set vertically
below the crank. Two piston-rods projected through the
top of the cylinder, one on each side of the shaft and of
the crank. They were united by a crosshead sliding in
vertical guides, and fiom this a return-connecting-rod led
to the crank.
215. Modern paddle-wheel engines are usually ot one
«f the following types. (1) In oscillating cylinder engines
the cylinders are set under the crank-shaft, and the piston-
(Tods are directly connected to the cranks. The cylinders
are supported on trunnions which give them the necessary
freedom of oscillation to follow the movement of the crank.
8teara is admitted through the trunnions to slide-valves on
the sides of the cylinders. In some instances the mean
position of the cylinders is inclined instead of vertical; and
oscillating engines have been arranged with one cyUnder
iHjfore and another behind the shaft, both pistons working
«n one crank. The oscillating cylinder typo is best adapted
lor what would now bo considered comparatively low pres-
sures of steam. (2) Diagonal engines are direct-acting
engines of the ordinary connecting-rod type, with the
cylinders fixed on an inclined bed and the guides sloping
jp towards the shaft.
'216. When the screw-piopellcr began to take the place
of noddle-wheels in ocean-steamers, the increased speed
which it required was at first supplied by using spur-wheel
gearing in conjunction with one of the forms of engines
then usu.-vl in paddle steamers. After a time types of
engine bctt-^r suited to the screw were introduced, and
were driven fast enough to be connected directly to the
•crew shaft. The smallncss of the horizontal space on
•ither side of the shaft formed an obstacle to the use of
korizoutal engines, but this difficulty was overcome in
>eveial ways. In_Penjj_truiik-engine, still uned in the
~"~~ Uin. J'i'oc. Jnit. an., Hatembist lliSS.
517
navy, the engine is shortened by attaching the connecting-
rod directly to the piston, and using a hollow piston-rod,
called a trunk, large- enough to allow the connecting-rod
to oscillate inside it. The trunk extends through both
ends of the cylinder and forms a guide for the piston.
It has the drawback of requiring very large stuffing-boxes,
of wasting cylinder space, and of presenting a large surface
of metal to alternate heating by steam and cooling by con-
tact with the atmosphere. The use of high-pressure steam
is likely to make the trunk-engine obsolete.
217. The return-connecting-rod engine is another hori-
zontal form much used in the navy. It is a steepleengina
placed horizontally, with two, and in some cases four,i
piston-rods in each cylinder. The piston-rods pass cleai^
of the shaft and the crank, and are joined beyond it in a
guided crosshead, from which a connecting-rod returns.
Ordinary horizontal direct-acting engines with a short
stroke and a short connecting-rod are also common in war-
ships, where the horizontal is frequently preferred to tho
vertical type of engine for the sake of keeping the machinery
below the water-line. In horizontal marine engines the
air-pump and condenser are generally placed on the oppo-
site side of the shaft from the cylinder, which balances the
weight and allows the air-pump to be driven direct.
218. In merchant ocean-steamers one general type of en-
gine is universal, and the same type is now to an increasing
extent adopted in naval practice. This is the inverted verti-
cal direct-acting engine, generally with two or more cylinders
placed side by side directly over the shaft. In exceptional
cases a single cylinder has been used, with a fly-wheel oa
the shaft. Two, three, and four cylinders are common.
The most usual form of existing marine engine is the two-
cylinder compound arrangement, with cranks at right angles or
nearly at right angles, of which figs. 135, 136, 137 (pp. 513-20j^
show a characteristic example-(the engines of the s.B. "Tartar,
by Messrs John & James Thomson, Glasgow).
Fi". 135 is an end elevation, fig. 136 a longitudinal section
through the centre of the engines, and fig. 137 a thwart-ship section
through the condenser and air-pump. The cylinders are 50 and 94
inches in diameter, and the stroke is 5 feet. Both cylinders ai»
fitted with liners, and are steam-jacketed. Double-ported slide
valves are used on both, and the high-pressure valve has a reUcT
ring. The crosshead guides are fitted on the side on which Um
crosshead bears when the engines are going ahead, with a
hollow box behind the guiding surface, and cold water u
kept circulating in this to prevent the guides from lieating.
The crank-shaft is of Vickers
steel, 17i inches in diameter. The
condenser is in the place it usually
has in engines of this type,—
in tho lower part of the backframe^
with its tubes running ho.'izon.
tally from end to end ot the
engine. There are 1400 tubes, «i
1 inch di.imotcr and l-J inch pitch.
Tlie air-pumps are of the ainglo-
acting bucket kind, and are driveq
by a lever from the crosshead.
Centrifugal circulating pumps are used, driven by a pair oJ
independent small vertical engines. Tho link-motion is worked by
steam starting and reversing gear, which appears on the lelt side ol
the engine in fig. 135. These engines wov\ with a boiler pressur|
of ao lb, and indicate 3560 horse-power. Fig. 134 shows, on J
larger scale, tho piston packing, whicTi consists of a pair of lloatuig
rings, pressed out by a spiral spring behind them. j:<.,:»i
219. Two other arrangements of double compound (as distiM
guished from triple-expansion) marine engines of tho invertc^
vertical type reqiire notice. One is the tandem arrangcmonL
largely adopted In the steamers of the "White Star " l.na I.
those each crank is operated by an independent pair "f coW"*
cylinders, the high-pressure cylinder being on top o the low-
picssure cylinder, with one piston-rod common *« ^"^h- ™
valves of both are worked by a aingle pair of eccentrics w th •
link-motion; the valve-rod of the 1»V;I'«^™"- '^ '"<'°f. "Y"^
through the top of its valve-chest, and is joined either direct jM
by a short lever with tho valve-rod of tho '"KVPT-T," '=i!v' '±L
Generally two pairs of tandem cylinders ar« pl«<=?d »'J« ^V ■»'<N
one pair abaft the other, to work on cranks at right a°gj^?- I"
cxcoplionally Urge engines three pairs havn h.:rn used, working oa
Fio. 134.— Piston Packing.
518
STEAM-ENGINE
cranks 120 apart," aL arrangement greatly superior to that of two
cranks in uniformity of effort on tlie shaft To facilitate removiu<r
the pistons from the cylinders, the large cylinder has in some cases
' beeu set above the other.
220. The other arrangement of double compound marine 'ntrine
has three cylinders set in line fore and aft. Tlie middle one is"the
high-pressure cylinder ; the other two receive steam from it and
|form together the equivalent of one large low-pressure cylinder.
The- three work on cranks at 120° apart Besides securing the
advantage in uniformity of effort which three cranks have over
two, this form avoids the use, in very powerful engines, of a low-
pressure cylinder of excessive size. On the other hand, the three-
cylinder form takes up more space, and has a larger number of
Working parts. In the most powerful engines that have yet been
constructed this three-cylinder arrangement is followed. The
"Umbria" and "Etruria" have a 71-inch high-pressure cylinder
between two 105-inch low-pressure cylinders, with a stroke of 6
feet These engiues, which were built just
before the introduction of triple expansion,
are supplied with steam at a pressure of 110
lb by gauge, and indicate 1 4, 300 horse-power.
In this and in the ordinary two-cylinder
form of marine engine, the low-pressure
valve-chest and the casing of the engine be-
tween the cylinders form an intermediate
'eceiver for the steam.
IMple- 221. During the last two or three years a
eipan. » great advance has taken place In marine
«ion( engineering by the general introduction of
•ngines. tnple-expansion engines, and by an increase
in steam pressure which the system of triple
expansion makes practicable. In 1874 the
steamer "Propontis" was fitted with a set
of three-crank triple-expansion engines, de-
eignad by Mr A. C. Kirk. The experiment
■was prevented from being fully isuccessful
by the failure of the boilers, which were of
a special type. Another experiment with
triple engines in the yacht "Isa" in 1877
prepared the way for their application to
regular ocean service. In 1882 the steam-
ship "Aberdeen," with triple engines, de-
signed by Mr Kirk, to work with steam of
125 lb pressure, suppliei from
double-ended steel boilers of the
ordinary marine type, demon-
strated the advantage and safety
of the system. Since then its
use has become general in new
steamers, and in m!iny cases the
older double engines are being
removed to give place to engines
of the triple- expansion type,
with the effect ot reducing the
consumption of coal by about
25 per cent*
222. In the most common ar-
rangement of triple-expansion
engines three cylinders are
ranged in line, fore and aft,
working on cranks at 120° apart
Piston-valves are generally pre-
ferred, and these are not un-
commonly worked by some form
of radial valve-gear instead of
the ordinary link-motion. An
advantage of this is that the
space which would be taken up
by eccentrics upon the shaft a
saved, and longer main bearings
are in consequence possible,
without spreading the engines in
the fore-and-aft direction. An
objectionable feature of the
three-cylinder triple engine is
[maeinit
/^
223. T4 avoid the lehgth of the three-crank engine, Mr Brock
and others have made engines of the triple-expansion type with
two cranks, by putting the high alid the intermediate pressure
cylinders above and tandem with two low-pressure cylinders. Mr
Brock has also built four-cylinder quadruple-expansion
.engines of a similar form (with two cranks), and esti-
mates that they show an economy in coal consumption
of 5 per cent, as compared with triple-expansion enrines
working with the same pressure of steam.
224. Steam-jackets are retained by some but h .t by
all builders; where they are employed the boiler tteam
IS usually reduced in pressure before admission to the
intermediate and low-pressure cylinder jackets and to
thereceiver-jackots. The feed-water is frequently heated
to about 200° F. by \Yeir's plan of condensing in it, by
common injection, a ouantity of steam tik m from the
second receiver; this has the advantage of i'reeing it tf
air, and of preventing local chillin ;
in the boiler. In present-day prac-
tice the boiler pressure, for a triple-
cxpansiun engine, ranges from 120
to 170 lb per square inch (by gauge),
and it does not appear that any
material increase of this is possible
without a complete de-
parture from the present
type of marine • boiler.
On the other hand, with-
out a material increase of
pressure there is little
advantage in quadruple
expansion.
_ 225. Surface condensa-
tion was introduced in
marine engines by S. Hall
in 1831, but was not
brought ihto general use
until much later. Pre-
vious to this it bad been
necessary, in order to
avoid the accumulation
of too dense brine in the
boiler, to blow oflf a nop
" -J ."-«"• ...^.1. VUEIUO la
its length; on the other hand, the high speed and high pressure
which are features of modern practice make long bearings indis-
pensable. ° ^
28fl.— End ElevaUoa of Mai-ine Eogine.
.A^" ■'"f.'P"'"' of '•" engine, of the "Citr of Rome," with three 46.|nch
Si /"K 'ii^ ^^ l°8'86 * """^ "' ° '"'' '""■'^8 "P " ".BM I- H. P"
3 The rapid progress of the system of triple expansion may be indued from
V^ 'V,J raentloned hy Mr W. Parkef of Lloyds in Vrecent paper fi;°o?««fSo
mC'i*^''',";^ ?h',°' ''' •"«'"«• 'h«n being built for me^rch.nt«"t^ri
i^fn?h^n, , "'° "IP'V.^S?"""" '"«■ f O'' ""••'hips also triple engine. iS
Mt L^S. li .t^H "f " ",000 horse-power. For . discussion of several Import
tion of the brine at short intervals and replace it oy ses vrtUtJ
a process which of course involved much waste of heat By th»
use of surface condensers it became postible to use the same portion
of water over and over again. The ve/y freedom of the condensed
water from dissolved mineral substances was for a time an otstaolq
to the adoption of surface condensers, for it was found that th9
boiler, no longer protected by a deposit of scale, became rapidljt
corroded through the action of acids formed by the decomposition
of the lubricating oil. This objection was overcome by iptroducina
a sufficient amount of salt water to allow some scale to form, anq
the use of surface condensers soon became universal on steamoi*
plying in sea water. The marii:s condenser consists of a multi*j/lr
KNOINES.]
STEAM-ENGINE
519
of tubes, generally of brass, about J of an inch in diameter.
Through these cold sea-water is made to circulate, while the steam
is brought into contact with their outside surfaces. In some cases,
especially in Admiralty practice, cold water circulates outside the
tuoes and the steam passes inside.
226. The ordinary marine engine has four pumps: — the air-pump,
which is made large enough to serve in case injection instead of
surface-condensation should at any time be nsorted to; the feed-
pump; the circulating-pump, which maintains a current of sea-
water through the
tubes of the condenser;
and the bilge-pump,
which discharges any
water accumulated by
leakage or otherwise
in the bilge of the
ship. The pumps are
•0 arranged that in the
event of a serious leak
the circulating-pump
can also draw its sup-
ply from the bilge. In
most engines, especi-
ally those of less re-
cent construction, the
four pumps are placed
behind the condenser,
and are worked by a
single crossh.ead driven
by a lever, the other
end of which is con-
nected by a short link
with one of the cross-
heads of the engine.
It is now becoming
common to use a small
engine, distinct from
the main engine, to
drive the feed-pump,
and to .'supply circulat-
ing water by a centri-
fugal pump also driven
by a separate engine.
227. In the improve-
ment of the marine en-
gine twopointsarenote-
worthy, — reduction in
the rate of consump-
tion of coal per horse-
power, and reduction
in the weight of the
machine (comprising
the engine proper and
the boilers) per horse-
power. The second
consideration isin some
cases of even more
moment than the first,
especially iii war-ships.
Progress has been
maiU, in both respects,
by increase of steam
pressure, and, in the
second respect espe-
cially, by increase of
piston speed. Fifty
years ago the boilers of
marine engines made
steam at a pressure of
about 6 lb per square
inch above that of the
atmosphere. By 1860
(ompoundengineswere
over 1000 feet per minute.' The economy in coal consumption
brought about by the ch.nnge from double-expansion engine? work-
ing at (say) 80 lb to triple engines at 180 lb or more is variously
estimated at from 18 to 25 per cent Much of this is due siniplf
to the increased range of temperature through which the working
substance is carried ; but it appears that the actual performance of
the triple engine is better than that of the double compound in a
ratio greater than that by which its ideal efficiency — as an engine
using a wider range of temperature— exceeds that of the other; and
this is to be ascribed
to the same causes as
have been already dis-
cussed in speaking of
the advantage of the
compound over the
simple engine. Apart
from its greater eco-
nomy of coal, the triple
engine owes some of its
practical success to the
mechanical superiorit>
of three driving cranku
over two.
228. The relation of Relation
weight of machinery °' pni^ij.*
to power developed, ^
and the causes which
affect this ratio, have
recently been discussed
by Messrs Marshall and
Weigh ton, *froin whose
paper the following
figures are taken. Be-
fore the introduction
of triple expansion and
forced draught the
weight of engines in
the mercantile marine,
including the boilers
and the 'water in them,
waa 480 lb per I.H.P.
In the navy this was
reduced, chiefly by the
use of lighter framing,
with the object of
minimizing weight, to
360 ft). Triple-engines
of the merchant tyre,
without forced draugnt,
are only slightly lighter
than double engines ;
but in naval practice,
where forced draught,
gi'eatly increased speed,
and tho use of steel for
frames and working
parts have combined
to reduce the ratio of
weight to power, a
marked reduction in
weight is apparent
A recent set of vertical
triple engines, which
with natural draugM
indicate ?200 H.P.,
and wiEh a draiiglit
forced by'possure in
the stokehole equal to
2 inches of water indi-
cate 4000 H.P., weigh
miderthe latter conJi-
tion (along with the
boilers) only 106 tt> per
Pio. 186.— LonRltnainal Section of Marino Engine
in use with pressures ranging from 25 to 40 lb. In 1872 statistics
collected for nineteen ocean steamers showed that the average con-
sumption of coal was then 211 lb per H.P. per hour, the boiler-
pressure 45 to 60 lb, and the mean piston speed about 375 feet per
minute.' These were for tho most part two-cylinder conjpound
engines of the vertical inverted typo. Nino years later statistics for
thirty engines of the same typo showed a consumption of 1'83 ft) of
coal, a mean boiler pressure of 774 ft') ^^'^ ^ mean piston speed of 467
feet per minute.' In recent triple-expansion engines the pressure is
■8 high as 165 ft) ; a piston speed of 700 or 800 feet per minute la
not uncommon in naval engines, and in some cases it has risen to
1 Sir F. J. Brtmwell, Proe. Itiit. SUch. £fi(j.,ie72.
' P. C. Mar«li»ll, yrQC. Intl. Uuh. But. 1881.
only lot
reed by
I.H P. In another set, in which tho draught is forced by a pres-
sure of 3 inches, and the cylinders are onlv IKi, 24 ""d 37 '"^hes
in diameter, with a stroko of 16 inches, the imlieated_hor»«-power
is
in uianieier, wini a dhwi^w v, *« -•■■ — ■-» -- — . , „„ -v t li t>
is 4200, and the weight of engines and boiler, is 130 ft) P" I-»;»;
In these the boilers are of the locomotive type, and the "'««" I''"'«"
speed is 1066 feet per minute. Even these .ght {^--^'S'"' """^"'^
passed in smaller engines, such as those "f/o^"''" '>'';'*,. '" "J
far as this immense development of power from a 7«" ""f ' ?[
machinery is duo to high piston .^peed it i. secured ^^Mho»t lorn
-indecd^ilh some gainiof thermodynamic •■'B"'"^;, ^"^
draught, however, without « corre,pond.ng extension of the he^lmg
. M.r.h.n ana W.Khton, /Vo^. 1">»'^'^ <""" '»"• 2f X' "^ '^'^
itiilitrt, 1880.
520
S T E A M-E N G I N E
[locomotiyk'
snrface, leads to a less efficient expcnditnre of fuel. 'With a given
type of engine there is a certain ratio of expansion which gives a,
minimum in the ratio of weight to power ; when this ratio of expan-
sion is exceeded the engines have to be enlarged to an extent that
Fig. 137. — Section tbrongh Condenser and Air-Pump.
more than counterbalances the saving in boiler weight ; when a
less ratio of expansion is used the boilers have to be enlarged to an
ex,tent that more than counterbalances the reduction of weight in
the engine proper.'
XIII. Locomotive Engines.
loeo^ 229. The ordinary locomotive consists of a pair of
ootive direct acting horizontal or nearly horizontal engines, fixed
*^°^' in a rigid frame under the front end of a boiler of the
type described in § 133, and coupled to the same shaft
by cranks at right angles, each with a single slide-valve
worked by a link-motion, or by a form of radial- gear.
The engine is non-condensing, except in special cases, and
the exhaust steam, delivered at the base of the funnel
through a blast-pipe, serves to produce a draught of air
through the furnace. In some instances a portion of the
exhaust steam, amounting to about one-fifth of the whole,
is diverted to heat the feed-water. In tank engines the
feed-water is rarried in tanks on the engine itself; in other
engines it is carried behind in a tender.
A 230. On the shaft are a pair of driving-wheels, whose
frictional adhesion to the rails furnishes the necessary
tractive force. In some engines a single pair of driving-
wheels are used ; in many more a greater tractive force Ts
secured by having two equal driving-wheels on each side,
connected by a coupling-rod between pins on the outside
of the wheels. In goods engines a still greater proportion
of the whole weight is utilized to give tractive force by
coupling three and even four wheels on each side. These
arrangements are distinguished by the terms "four-
coupled," "six-coupled," and " eight coupled " applied to
the engines. In inside-cylinder engines the cylinders are
placed side by side within the frame of the engine, and
their connecting-rods work on cranks in the driving shaft.
In outside-cylinder engines the cylinders are spread apart
far enough to lie outside the frame of the engine, and to
work on crank-pins on the outsides of the driving' wheels.
This dispenses with the^iranked axle, which is the'' weakest
part of a locomotive engine. Owing to the frequent
1 On the Eeneral subject of marine engines, reference should be made to Mr A
E. Seatfn sAfanval of ilarinf F.ngmefrivg ; to Mr R. Sennetfs Treatise on the Mar-
inc Steam E«gine; and to Mr W. H. Maw', Recent PraCre .., if«ri„e KTgnteriZ
alternation of strain to which it is subject, a locomotive
crank axle is peculiarly liable to rupture, and ha= to be
removed after a certain amount of use.
In some locomotives the leading wheels are coupled to
driving wheels behind them, but it is now generally pre-
ferred to have under the front of the engine two or four
smaller wheels which do not form part of the driving
system. _ These are carried in a boc/ie, that is, a small truck'
upon which the front end of the boiler rests by a swivel-
pin or plate which allows the bogie to turn, so as to adapt
itself to curves in the line, and thus obviate the grinding
of tyres and danger of derailment which would be caused
by using a long rigid wheel-base. The bogie appears to
have been of English origin ;- it was brought into general
use in America, and is now common in English as well as
in American practice. Instead of a four-wheeled bogie,
a single pair of leading wheels are also used, carried by a
Bissel po?iy truck, which has a swing-bolster pivoted by a p<my
radius bar about a point some distance behind the axis of truck,
the wheels. This has the advantage of combining lateral
with radial movement of the wheels, both being required
if the wheel base is to be properly accommodated to the
curve. Another method of getting lateral and radial Radia'
freedom is the plan used by Mr Webb of carrying the axlo-b
leading axle in a box curved to the arc of a circle, and
free to slide laterally for a short distance, under the con-
trol of springs, in curved guides.^
231. In inside-cylinder engines the slide-valves are fre- TaWei
quently placed back to back in a single valve-chest between
the cylinders. The width of the engine within the frame
leaves little room for them there, and they are reduced .to
the flattest possible form, in some cases with split ports,
half above and half below a partition in a central hori-
zontal plane. In some of Mr Stroudley's engines the
valves are below the cylinders, with faces sloping down
towards the front, while the cylinders themselves slope
slightly up. In many engines the valves work on hori-
zontal planes above the cylinders ; this position is specially
suitable when Joy's or some other form, of radial gear
is used instead of the link-motion. Radial valve-gears
have the advantage, which is of considerable moment
in inside-cylinder engines, that the
part of the shafts' length which would
otherwise be needed for eccentrics is
available to increase the width of
main bearings and crank-pins, and to
strengthen the crank-cheeks. Wal-
shaert's gear is very extensively used
on Continental locomotives, and Joy's
has now been applied to a large num-
ber of British engines.
232. In a powerful locomotive of
the ordinary type the cylinders are
17 to 19 inches in diameter, with a
stroke of about 26 inches. The
steam pressure is 130 to 175 lb.
The horse-power ranges up to about
700. A passenger engine for express
service has driving-wheels from 7 to
8 feet in diameter, and weighs, with-
out the tender, about 40 tons. Of
this nearly 15 tons is borne by each
driving axle.*
Fig. 138 shows a half section
through the smoke-box and one cyl-
inder of an inside-cylinder engine (of
the Midland Railway), and illustrates how in an engine of'
' ifin. Pror. Inst. C.E., vol. liii. 3, p. 50. ' Proc. Inst, ilech. Eng., 1W!3.
* For account of many details in recent English practice In locomot-ve build
Ing, reference should be made to a valuable paper by Mr Stroudley, and « discns
sion upon it(i/m. Prac. Inst. C. E., Ixxxi.).
Fio. 138.— inside-CjUnder
Locomotive.
ENGINES.]
STEAM-ENGINE
621
this type the cyliuders are situated with regard to the
frame, which consists of a single pair of steel plates, ex-
tending from end to end and united by other transverse
plates, one of which, called the motion-plate, gives support
to the guide-bars, and another holds the draw-bar. Another
form of frame is built up of two longitudinal plates on each
side. In the engine illustrated the valves are above the
cylinders, and are worked by Joy's gear. A bogie truck ap-
pears in section below the engine. S is the steam-pipe, and
B the blast-pipe, which is tapered in the fore-and-aft plane.
233. The outsido-cylinder type is adopted by several
British makers ; in America it is universal. There the
cylinders are in castings which are
bolted together to form a saddle on
which the bottom of the smoke-box
sits. The slide-valves are on the
tops of the cylinders, and are worked
through rocking levers from an ordi-
nary link-motion. Other features
by which American practice is dis-
tinguished are the use of bars in-
stead of plates for the frames, of
cast-iron wheels with chilled rims
instead of wrought-iron wheels with
steel rims shrunk or forced on, and
steel fire-boxes and wrought-iron
tubes instead of copper fire-boxes
and brass tubes. Fig. 139, which
is a half section through one cyl-
inder of an American locomotive, ^^^ 139. -American outside-
by the Balwin Company of Phila- Cylinder Locomotive.
delphia, shows the position of the cylinders and valves.
234. Locomotive engines have been compounded in
several ways, in 1876 M. A. Mallet' introduced, on tha
Bayonne and Biarritz Railway, a type of compound loco-
motive in which one small hrgh-pressure cylinder and one
large low-pressure cylinder wore used in place of the two
equal cylinders of a common locomotive. Outside cylinders
were used in the first instance, but Mallet's system is also
applied to inside-cylinder engines. The pipe from the
high to the low-pressure cylinder takes a winding course
through the smoke-box ; this gives a sufficient volume of
intermediate receiver, and also dries the steam before it
enters the large cylinder. A reducing valve is provided
through which steam of a jjressure lower than that of the
boiler can be admitted direct to the low-pressure cylinder
to facilitate starting. The reversing gear is arranged to
act on both cylinders by one movement, and also to permit
a separate adjustment of the cut-off in each. Engines on
Mallet's system have been sucxicssfully used on other Con-
tinental railways and in India, in some instances by con-
version from the non-compound form.^ His plan has the
advantage of permitting this (in certain cases), and of re-
quiring scarcely any more working parts than are needed
in a common locomotive ; but it gives an unsymmetrica)
engine. 'He has also proposed an engine with four
cylinders, — one high-pressure cylinder tandem with one
low-pressure cylinder on each side. Another symmetrical
form has been used, in which a pair of outside high-
pressure cylinders are compounded with a pair of inside
low-pressure cylinders.
235. The most important experiment yet made in the WebV»
compounding of locomotives is that which Mr F. W. AVcbb, system.
of the London and North-Western Railway, has been
conducting on a largo scale since 1881.* In Jlr Webb's
system three cylinders are used. Two equal high-pressure
Fig. 140. — Webb's Compound LocomotlTe.
cylinders are fixed outside the frames, and drive the rear
driving axle by crank-pins at right angles to one another.
A single low-pressure cylinder of very large size is set
beneath the smokebox, and drives a crank in the middle
of the forward driving axle. The driving axles are not
coupled, and the phase-relation of the low-pressure to the
high -pressure stroke is liable to alter through unequal
slip on the part of the wheels. This, however, is of no
material consequence, on account of the largo size of the
intermediate receiver and the uniformity with which
the two high-pressure cylinders deliver steam to it. The
receiver is formed, as in M. Mallet's arrangement, by lead-
ing long connecting pipes through tho smoke-box. All
three slide-valves are worked by Joy's gear. Tlioso of tho
low-pressure cylinders are placed below the cylinders (an
arrangement which has the advantage of letting tho valvo
(all away from the port-face when tho engine is running
down hill with the steam-valve closed); tho valve of the
large cylinder is above it. The arrangement is com[)lctcly
eymmetrical ; it has the imi>ortant mechanical advantage
io£ dispensing with coupling rod,"!, while retaining the
greater tractive power of four drivers ; only one axle is
cranked, and that with a single crank in the centre, which
loaves ample room for long bearings. A plan of Mr
Webb's engine, half in section, is given in fig. 140. The
results of Mr Webb's experiments have been, in his judg-
ment, so satisfactory that for express passenger service he
is now building engines only of the compound type. In
some recent examples tho small cylinders aro 14 inches,
and the large cylinder 30 inches in diameter, with a stroke
of 24 inches, and the boiler pressure is 175 lb. Engines
of the same type aro also being introduced in India, South
America, and the continent of Europe.
23G. Experiments on the saving of fuel by compound-
ing locomotives point to an economy of from 10 to 20 pel
cent. It may bo expected, for reasons which have been
discussed above, that a compound engine, even when
working at tho high speed of a locomotive, will have a
somewhat higher efficiency than a non-compound engine.
' /'roc. /fiJf. JIftrli. Eng.. 1679.
' Von Ilorrlcs, Ztirhr. dci Vcr. deulKktr Inflnleure,
Intl. Mtch. Eng., I8H6.
« Sco I'roc. /nit. ilreh Eng. ieS3 ; iilio Fni/inrriino. Mny I8«;
NMI -
1880; S«nill(onl. Pnt)
r>c
522
S T E A M-E N G I N E
But, apart from this, an itnportant merit of the compound
system is that, while it absolutely prevents the grade of
expansion from being reduced below a certain minimum,
depending on the ratio of cylinder volumes, it also permits
a comparatively High degree of expansion, which in an
ordinary locomotive would involve the use of specially
large cylinders and a separate cut-ofl valve. Experiments
on the steam-jacketing of locomotive cylinders have not
hitherto been attended by success.
237. Tramway locomotives for the most part resemble
railway locomotives in the general features of their design.
The boiler is of the usual locomotive type. A pair of
cylinders in front, either inside or outside the frames, are
connected directly to the hindmost of two coupled driving
axles. Owing to the smallness of the driving-wheels, the
axles lie near the road, and th'e cylinders are set sloping at
a considerable angle upwards to keep them clear of dirt.
To prevent the discharge of steam into "the atmosphere,
the exhaust steam is often led into an atmospheric con-
denser, consisting of a large number of pipes set on the
top of the engine, and exposed to free contact with the
air. In some instances the common locomotive type is
widely departed from : a mixed vertical and horizontal
boiler is used, and the engine is connected to the driving
axle by worm-wheel or other gear, or by a rocking lever
between the connecting-rod and thecrank.^
Jlreless 238. In the " fireless " tramway locomotive of M. L^on
*°'°; Francq, a reservoir which takes the place of an ordinary
""' '"• boiler is charged at the beginning of the journey with
water heated iinder pressure by injecting steam from
stationary boilers at a pressure of 15 atmospheres. The
thermal capacity of the water is sufficient — without further
addition of heat — to supply steam to the engine during
the journey, at a pressure which gradually falls off.' The
system has not come into general use.
239. . Several forms of tramway engine have been devised
in which the motive power is supplied by compressed air.'
In the Mekarski system the compressed air, on its way
from the reservoir to the cylinders, passes through a vessel
containing hot water and steam under pressure (charged,
as in Francq's system, by injecting steam at a station).
In this way the air is heated, and may then expand in the
cylinder without having its temperature lowered to an
objectionable, degree.
240. Steam road-locomotives or traction-engines have
usually a boiler of the locomotive type, with a cylinder or
compound pair of cylinders, generally on the top, driving
a shaft from which motion is taken by a gearing chain or
spur-wheels to a single driving axle at the fire-box end.
The engine is steered by means of a leading axle, whose
direction is controlled by a hand-wheel and chain-gear.
To facilitate rapid turning the driving-wheels are connected
to their axle by a differential or compensating gear which
allows them to revolve at different speeds. This is a set
of four bevel-wheels like White's dynamometer coupling :
the outside bevel-wheels are attached to the driving-
wheels ; the, intermedtate ones, which gear with these,
turn in bearings in a revolving wheel driven by the
engine. So long as both driving-wheels are equally
resisted both are driven at the same speed, but if one is
retarded (as the inner wheel is in turning a curve) it acts
to some extent as a fulcrum to the bevel gear, and the
outer wheel takes a greater share of the motion. An
important feature in traction engines is the elasticity of
the driving-wheels. Many devices have been employed,
partly to give the wheels an extended tread, or arc of
contact with the ground, and partly to avoid shocks in
passing over rough ground. Both objects are accomplished
I 9iliUin. Prtx. Imt. C.E.. vol. ijlx., 188« ; aleo rroc. Init. Ueeh En}., 1980.
* Proc. lint, ilcck. Eng.. 1879 ' Proc. Inst. Mecl\. Eng.. 1878. 18«1.
[aIB and QtM.
by !Mr R. W. Thomson's plan of surrounding each wheel
with a thick tyre of india-rubber, protected on the outside
by an armour of small plates. In most modern traction-
engines the rim is itself rigid, but is connected to the nave
through a system of springs which allow it to take up an
eccentric position, and the tyres have skew bars on the
surface to increase their adhesion to the road.
XIV. Air and Gas Engines.
241. Under this head we may include all heatrengines
in which the working substance is air, or the gaseous pro-
ducts of the combustion of fuel and air, whether the fuel
be itself solid, liquid, or gaseous. When air alone forms
the working substance, it receives heat from an external
furnace by conduction through the walls of a containing
vessel, as the working substance in the steam-engine takei
in heat through the shell of the boiler. An engine sup-
plied with heat in this way may be called an external-
combustion engine, to distinguish it from a very important
class of engines in which the combustion which supplies
heat occurs within a closed chamber containing the work-
ing substance. The ordinary coal-gas explosive en^ne iar
the most common type of internal-combustion engine.
242. Compared with an engine using saturated steam;
air and gas engines have the important advantage that the
temperature and the pressure of the working substance
are independent of one another. Hence it becomes pos-
sible to use an upper limit of temperature greatly -higher
than in the ordinary steam-engine, and if the lower limit
is not correspondingly raised an increase of thermodynamic
efficiency results. It is true that the same advantage
might be obtained in the case of steam, by excessive super-
heating; but this would mean substantially the conversion
of the engine into the type we are now considering, the
working substance being then steam gas.
249. A simple, thermodynamically perfect form of external-
combustion air-engine would be one following Carnot's cycle (§ 40),
in which heat is received' while the air is at the highest tempera-
ture T], the air meanwhile expanding isothermally. After this the
supply of heat is stopped, and the air is allowed to expand adia-
batically until its temperature falls to the lower extreme r^
At this it is compressed isothermally, giving out heat, and finally
the cycle is completed by adiabatic compression, which restores the
initial high temperature t,.
244. In place of adiabatic expansion as a means of changing the
temperature from tj to tj we may follow Stirling's plan (§ 64) of
storing the heat in a re-
generator, from which it
will afterwards be taken
up and so produce the
elevation of temperature
from T, to T, which in
the above cycle was per-
formed by idiabatio com-
pression.
Stirling's air-engine, in which the
action approximated to the perfect
cycle described in§ 54, is.diagramatic-
ally shown in fig. 141. A is a closed
vessel containing air, externally heated
by a furnace beneath it. A pipe from
the top of A leads to the working cyl-
inder B. At the top of A is a refri-
gerator C, consisting of pipes through
which cold water circulates. In A
there is a displacer plunger D, which
is driven by the engine ; when this is
raised the air in A is heated, whereas
when D is lowered the air ip A is
brought into contact with the refriger-
ator and cooled. On its way from the
bottom to the top of A, or vice versa,
the air must pass through an annular lining of wire-gauze E. . This
is the regenerator. At the beginning of the cycle D is up. Thff
air is then receiving heat at t,, and ia expanding isothermally ; this
is the first stage in § 54. Then the plunger D descends. The air
is driven through the regenerator, where it deposits heat, and its
temperature on emerging at the top ia tj. Next, the worUng-
Fla. 141.— Stirling's Aii^
Engloe.
^SNGINES. ]
STEAM-ENGINE
523
piston makes its downsti-oke (iu the actual engine tlie^ working
cylinder was double-acting, another heating vessel, precisely like
A, being connected with tlie cylinder B above the pLstou); this com-
.presses the air isothermally, the heat produced by compression being
taken up by C. Finally tho plunger is raised, and the working air
again passes through the regoneiator, taking up the heat It left
there, and rising tor,. The theoretical indicator diagram has been
given in fig. 13.'
245. The actual forms in which Stirling's engine was used are
described in two .patents by R. & J. Stirliug (1827 and 1840'). Au
important feature in them was that the air was compressed (by
means of a pump) to a pressure greatly above that of tho atmo-
sphere. Stirling's cycle is theoretically perfect whatever the density
of the working air, and compression did not in his case increase what
may be called the theoretical thermodynamic efficiency. It did,
however, very greatly increase the mechanical efficiency, and also,
what is of special importance, it increased the amount of power
yielded by an engine of given size. To see this it is sufficient to
consider that with compressed air a greater amount of heat was
dealt with in each stroke of the engine, and therefore a greater
amount of work was produced. Practically it also increased the
thermodynamic efficiency by reducing the ratio of the heat wasted
by external conduction and radiation to the whole heat.
A double-acting Stirling engine of 50 I.H.P., used in 1843 at the
Dundee foundry, appears to have realized an efficiency of 0'3, and,
notwithstanding veiy inadequate means of heatiup tho air, con-
sumed only 17 lb of coal per I.H.P. per hour." This engine re-
mained at work for three years, but was finally abandoned on
account of the failure of the heating vessels. In some forms of
Stirling's engine the regenerator was a separate vessel ; in others
the plunger D was itself constructed to serve as regenerator by
filling it with wire-gauze and leaving holes at top and bottom for
the passage of the air through it.
iHiason's 246. Another mode of using the regenerator was introduced in
ir- America by Ericsson, in an engine which also failed, partly because
j^e. the heating surfaces became burnt, and partly because their area was
insufficient. In Ericsson's engine the temperature of the working
substance is changed (by passing through the regenerator) while
the pressure remains constant. Cold air is compressed by a pump
into a receiver, from which it passes through a regenerator into the
working cylinder. In so passing it absorbs heat from the regene-
rator and expands. The air in the cylinder is then further expanded
by taking in heat from a furnace under the cylinder. The cycle is
completed by the discharge of the air through the regenerator. The
indicator diagram approximates to a form bounded by two isother-
mals and two lines of constant pressure.'
247. Externally-heated air-engines are now employed only for
very small powers— from a fraction of 1 H.P. up to about 3 H.P.
Powerful engines of this type are impracticable on accoimt of their
relatively enormous bulk. Those that are now manufactured
resemble the original Stirling engine very closely in the main
features of their action, and comprise. essentially the same organs.*
nl«m«I- 248. Iniemal-covibiistion engines form a far more important class
omtaa- of motors. The earliest example of this class appears to have been
ion the hot-air engine of Sir George Cayley,' of which Wenham's' and
nslnes. . Buckett's' engines are recent forms. In these engines coal or coke
is burnt under pressure in a closed chamber, to which the fuel_ is
fed through a species of air-lock. Air for combustion is supplied
by R compressing pump, and the engine is governed by means of a
distributing valve which sufiplies a greater or less proportion of the
air below the fire as the engine runs slow or fast. The products of
combustion, whoso volume is increased by their rise in tempera-
ture, pass into a working cylinder, raising the piston. When a
certain fraction of the stroke is over the supply of hot gas is
stopped, and tho gases in the cylinder, expand, doing more work
and becoming reduced In temperature. During the return stroke
they are discharged into the atmospliere, and the pump takes in a
fresh supply of air. Fig. 142 is a diagram section of the Buckott
engine. A is the working piston, the form of which is such as to
protect the tight sliding surface (at the top) from contact with
the hot gases ; B is the compressing pump, C the valve by which the
governor regulates the rate at which fuel is consumed, and D the
air-lock through which fuel is supnlicd.
249. In engines of this class tho degree to which tho action is
thermodynamically efficient depends very largely on the amount
of cooling the gases undergo by adiabatio or nearly adiabatic
expansion nnder tho working piston. Without a large ratio of
expansion tho thermodynamic advantage of a high initial teni-
> The 1827 pilcnt Id ifproduceil In F. JthWo's Lcctura on On nnd Caloric
EDRlno«, /nil. Cii'. Eng., Heat Leclures, I883-St. Sec alio ilin. Froc. /nil. C.E,
1S4S and lfl.'.4.
» Soo KnnklDo'i aieam Engine, p. 867. Tho ^onstunptlon per brake H.P. was
nmcl) tfrcatcr.
• For n dlfieram of Eilcsson'a engine aoe Rnnklno'a Sttam Engine, or Fnc. Intl.
Uech.Eng.,\MS.
* For dL»cii|>tlon of liobhiton's, Ball07'a, and Rldcr'a hot-air enKinei aee
F. Jenkln'a lecture, /oc. ei(.
6 yicliollon's Art Journal, 1807. < Pror. /n««. Mk/i. Bng., WTS.
' F. Jirnkiu, loc. c>.. r.i;. Ui la taken fium thla imper.
perature is lost ; but, as the gases h.avc to \x discharged at ntmo-
spheric pressnrc, a large ratio of expansion is possible only when
there is much initial compression. Compression is therefore an
Fig. 14?.— Buckett Knginc.
essential condition, without which a heat-engine of this tj^pe can-
not be made efficient. It is also, as has already been pointed out,
essential in all air-eugines to the development of a fair amount of
power by an engine of moderate bulk.
250. Internal-combustion en.gines using solid fuel have hitherto Petro-
been little used, and that only for small powers. Several smalUeum
engines employ liquid fuel (namely, petroleum) injected iu a state enginn.
of spray, or even vaporized before entering the combustion-chamber.
In some forms, of which the Brayton petroleum engine is a type,
combustion occurs as the fuel is injected ; in othera the action
approaches closely that of gns-cngincs, that is to say, of engines Gas-
in which fuel (generally coal-gas) is supplied in a perfectly gaseous engine*
state, and is burnt in a more or less explosive manner. These
last are the only heat-engines that have as yet entered Into serious
competition with steam-engines.
251. The earliest gas-engine to be brought into practical use Lenoir.
was that of Lenoir (1860). During the first part of the stroke air
and gas, in proportions suitable for combustion, were drawn into
the cylinder. At about half-stroke the inlet valve closed, and
the mixture was immediately exploded by an electric spark. The
heated products of combustion then did work on the piston dur-
in" the remainder of the forward stroke, and were expelled during
the back stroke. The engine was double-acting, and the cylinder
was prevented from becoming excessively heated liy a casing through
which water was kept circulating. Tho water-jacket has been re-
tained in nearly all later gas-engines.
An indicator diagram from a Lenoir engine is shown in fig. 143.'
After explosion tho line falls, partly from expansion, nndpartly
from the cooling action of the cylinder walls ;
on the other hand, its level is to some extent
maintained by the phenomenon of after-burn-
ing, which will be discussed later. In this •
engine, chiefly because there was no compres- Fio. 148.— Lenoir Engtao
eion, the heat removed by the water-jacket Diagram,
bore an exceedingly large proportion to the whole heat, and the
efficiency was comparatively low; about 95 cubic feet of gas were
used per horse-power per hour, llugon's engine, introduced five'.
years later, was a non-comp'essive engine very similai- to Lenoir's.
A novel feature in it was tho injection of a jet of cold water to keep
the cylinder from becoming too hot. These engines are now
obsolete ; the typo they belonged to, in which the mixture is not
compressed before explosion, is now represented by ono small
engine— Bischo(T's— the mechanical 8iin|)licity of which atones for"
its comparatively wasteful action in certain cases whore but little
power is required.
262. In 1866 Otto and Langen introduced a curious en-
gine,'' which, as to economy of gas, was distinctly superior to
its predecessors. Like tbom it dM not use compre,ssion. The
explosion occurred early in the stroke, in a vertical cylinder,
under a piston whicli wa.s free to rise without doing work
on the engine shaft. The piston rose with gpeat velocity,
so that the expansion was much more nearly adiabatic
than in earlier engines. Then after the piston had roaihcd
the top of its range the gases cooled, and their pressure
fell below that of the atmosphere ; the piston conaequently
• Slade, Jour. FranHln Inil., 1806.
> ^«c. InU. XkIu Sua, Wn.
524
STEAM-ENGINE
[cAS-SNGINB^k
came down, this time in gear with the shaft, and doing
work. The bui-nt gases were discharged during the last
part of the down-stroke. A friction-coupling allowed the
piston to be automatically thrown out of gear when rising,
and into gear when descending. This '• atmospheric " gas
engine used about 40 cubic feet of gas per horse-power
per hour, and came into somewhat extensive use in spite
of its noisy and ."spasmodic action. After a few years it
was displaced by a greatly improved type, in which the
direct action of Lenoir's engine was restored, but the gases
were compressed before ignition.
25-'<. Dr Otto's " silent " engine, introduced in 1876,
was the first successful motor of the modern type. It is a
single-acting engine, generally horizontal in form, and the
explosive mixture is compressed in the working cylinder
itself. This is done by making the cycle of the action
extend through two revolutions of the engine. During
the first forward stroke gas and air are drawn in by the
piston. During the first back-stroke the mixture is com-
pressed into a large clearance space at the end of the
cylinder. The mixture is then ignited, and the second
forward stroke (which is the only working stroke in the
cycle) is performed under the pressure of the heated pro-
ducts of combustion. During the second back-stroke the
products are discharged, with the exception of zo much as
remains in the clearance space, which serves to dilute the
explosive mixture in the next cycle. The principal parts
of Otto's engine (as made by Messrs Crossley) are shown
in the diagram section, fig. Hi. The cylinder is kept
cool by a water-jacket AA. B
is the clearance space into which
the mixture is compressed before
explosion. Its volume is usually about two-thirds of the
stroke, or 40 per cent, of the whole volume to which the
gases afterwards expand. C is the exhaust-valve, which is
opened during the second back-stroke of each cycle. Gas
and air are admitted at D, through a slide-valve E, .which
reciprocates once in each complete cycle of two revolutions.
This slide-valve is shown to a larger scale in fig. 145, in
the position it occupies while gas
is entering from g and air from
a. To ignite the mixture a gas-
jet is kept burning at c. In the
slide-valve there is an igniting
port d, which is supplied with gas
from a groove in the cover. As the slide moves towards
the right, the igniting port d carries a flame from c to D.
Ju»t before reaching D a little of the compressed mixture
from the cylinder enters the igniting port by a small open-
ing which does not appear in the figure, and by the time
D is reached the contents of d are so much raised in pres-
sure by their own combustion that a tongue of flame shoots
into the cylinder, firing the mixture there. The speed is
regulated by a centrifugal governor, which cuts off the sup-
ply of gas when the speed exceeds a certain limit. In some
small Otto engines of recent construction the inertia of a
reciprocating piece is used instead of the inertia of revolving
pieces to effect the same end.
254. In Mr Clerk's engine the cycle of operations is
essentially the .same as in Otto's, but a charging cylinder
Fig. 145.
is introduced, with the effect of allowing an explosion to
take place in the working cylinder once in every revolution.
As in Otto's, there is a large clearance space behind tha
piston, and the mixture is compressea into this space by thft
backward movement of the working piston. The peculiar
ity of the engine lies in the manner in which the charge ia
introduced. As the piston advances after an exjjlosion it
uncovers e.\haust ports in the sides of the cylinder, clostt
to the end of its forward stroke. While it is passing the
dead-jioint there the plunger of the charging cylinder
(which has meanwhile taken in a mixture of gas and air)
delivers this mixture into the cylinder, driving the product*
of the previous combustion out of the cylinder through
the exhaust ports. The charging cj'linder is so arranged
that the first i)art of the charge consists almost wholly of
air. and this is followed by the explosive mixture of gas.
a.nd air. The working piston then returns, closing tha
exhaust ports and compressing the mi.xture, which ut
ignited after comjiression by means of a slide-valve similar
to Otto's. In Otto's engine the explosive mixture is
diluted, and the sharpness of the explosion thereby reduced,
bj' the residue of burnt products which fill the clearance
space at the end of the discharge stroke. In Clerk's en-
gine the mixture is diluted by an excess of air. It does
not appear that this difference has any material effect oa
the action.
255. Over 20,000 Otto engines are now in use. of power
ranging up to about 40 H.P. Besides the engines whicli
Lave been named, others are manufactured in which th»
operations are essentially of the same kind, though lit
some cases the mechanical details are widel}- varied.'
In one of these, Mr Atkinson's ingenious " diff"eren-
tial " engine, the working chamber consists of tha
space between two pistons working in one cylinder.
During exhaust the pistons come close together ; thcj
recede from each other to take in a fresh charge ;
they approach for compression ; and finally they re-
cede again verj' rapidly and farther than before, after
ignition of the mixture, thus giving a comparatively
large ratio of expansion. At the same time, by mov-
ing bodily along through the cylinder, the piston*
uncover admission and exhaust ports and an ignition-
tube, which is kept permanently incandescent.
256. If the explosion of a gaseous mixture were practi-
cally instantaneous, producing at once all the heat due to
the chemical reaction, and if the expansion and compres-
sion were adiabatic, the theoretical indicator diagram of
an engine of the Otto type would have the form shown in
fig. 146. OA represents the volume of
clearance ; AB is the admission, at atmo-
spheric pressure ; BC is the compression
(which is assumed to be adiabatic) ; CD is
the rise of pressure caused by'
explosion ; DE is adiabatic ex-
1^ pansion during the working-
stroke ; and EBA is the exhaust
a The height of the point D abov»'
Fig. 14G. C may be calculated when w»
know the temperature at C (an element of considerable
uncertainty in practice), the specific heat (at constant vol-
ume) of the burnt mixture, the amount of heat evolved by
explosion, and the change of specific density due to thtt
change of chemical constitution which explosion brings
about. With the proportion of coal-gas and air ordinarily
employed this last consideration may generally be neg-'
lected, as the volume of the products would differ by lesi
than 2 per cent, from the volume of the mixture befooi
explosion if both were reduced to the same pressure and
temperature.
.257. The rise of pressure observed in the indicatmt
TV*
reticu
dutgTua
otOOaf
VAS-ENGINES.]
S T E i^ M-E N G I N E
525
Fio. 147.— Otto Engine Diagram.
Wiagraras of gas-engines is found to be in all cases much
'kss than the calculated rise of pressure which would be
caused by a strictly instantaneous explosion. An actual
diagram from an Otto engine working in its normal
Manner is given in fig. 147, where the reference letters
distinguish the parts of a complete cycle,
as in fig. 146. It shows a rapid rise of
pressure on explosion, so rapid that the vol-
ume has not very materially altered when
the maximum of
pressure is reached ;
and the specific heat
at constant volume
may therefore be
used without serious
error in calculating
the amount of heat which this rise accounts for. When
'this calculation is made,' it turns out that only about bO
U 70 per cent, of the potential heat of combustion in the
Imixture is required to produce the rise of temperature
leorresponding to the point of gre^Sitest pressure. The re-
mainder continues to be slowly evolved during the subse-
quent expansion of the hot gases. The process of com-
lostion— a term evidently more appropriate than explosion
_is essentially gradual ; when ignition takes placeit _be-
rins rapidly, but it continues to go on at a diminishing
w.te throughout the stroke. That part which takes place
after the maximum pressure is passed is the phenomenon
of after-burning to which allusion has been made above.
•258. The existence of "after-burning" is proved not only
by the fact that the maximum pressure after ignition is
much less than it would be if combustion were then com-
plete, but also by the form which the curve of subsequent
expansion takes. During expansion the gases are losing
much heat by conduction through the cylinder walls. The
■water-jacket absorbs rather more than half of the whole
teat developed in the engine,^ and the greater part of this
is of course taken up from the gases during the working
«troke. Notwithstanding this loss, the curve of expansion
■does not fall much below the adiabatic curve ; in some
•cases it even lies higher than the adiabatic curve. This
shows that the loss to the sides of the cylinder is being
made up by continued development of heat within the
gas. The process of combustion is especially protracted
when the explosive mixture is weak in gas ; the point of
maximum pressure then comes
late in the stroke ; and it is
, probable that the products
^ ,,„ ^.. -r. , ,., ,.., which are discharged in the
I Flo 14S.— Otto Engine Diacr.im with . ° .
weait explosive mi.tture. exhaust Contain some incom-
pletely-burnt fuel. Fig. 148 is the indicator diagram of
an Otto engine supplied with a mixture containing an ex-
ceptionally large proportion of air : it exhibits well the
^ery gradual character of the explosion in such a case.
259. Much light has been thrown on this subject by
the experiments of Mr Clerk, who has exploded mixtures
of gas and air, and also mixtures of hydrogen and air, in
a closed vessel furnished with an apparatus for recording
the time-rate of variation of pressure. In these experi-
ments the pressure fell after the explosion only on account
of the cooling action of the containing walls. The tem-
perature before ignition being known, it became possible
to calculate from the diagrams of pressure the highest
temperature reached during combustion (on the assump-
tion that the specific heat of the gases remained unchange^
• So« two Important papura iy Mr Dugald Clcrlt, " On tlio Theory of the Gas-
Knglnc," and " On the Explosion of Homngoneona Gaaeous Mixtures." Min. Proc.
ttut. C.E., 1882 and 1886. Rcfercnco aMould alao bo made, on the aubjcct of gas-
vngmcs gcncially, to Mr Clork'a book. Tfiir Oas-Knginr, lB8fi.
3 Clerk, loe. eil. Also, B.ooks and Steward, Van Nostran'fa Kng. Mag., 1883;
Ayiton and Perry, rhit. Hag., July 1884; Sloby, Report quoted Id F. Jenkins
iMturt, IniL C.E., 1884.
at high temperatures), and to compare this with the tem-
perature which would have been produced had combustion
been at once wmplete. Mixtures of gas and air wero
exploded, the proportion of gas varying from -jV to \, and
the highest temperature produced was generally a little
more than half that which would have been reached by
instantaneous combustion of the mixture. With the best
proportion of coal-gas to air (1 to 6 or 7) the greatest
pressure and hottest state was found one-twentieth of a
second after ignition, and the temperature was then 1800°
Q^ — instead of 3800°, which would have been the value
had all the heat been at once evolved. With the weakesn
mixtures about half a second was taken to reach a maxi-
mum of temperature, and its value was 800° C, instead
of 1800° C. In this case, however, the degree of com-
pleteness of the combustion is not fairly shown by a com-
parison of these temperatures, since much cooling occurred
during the relatively long interval that preceded the
instant of greatest pressure.
260. To explain the phenomenon of after-burning or Diood»
delayed combustion, it has been supposed that the high tion.
temperature to which the gases are raised in the first
stages of the explosion prevents union from being com-
pleted,—just as high temperature would dissociate the
burnt gases were they already in chemical union, — until
the fall of temperature by expansion and by the cooling
action of the cylinder walls allows the process of union to
go on. The maximum temperature attained in the gas-
engine is high enough to cause a perceptible amount of
dissociation of the burnt products ; it may therefore be
admitted that this explanation of delayed combustion is to
some extent true. On the other hand, the phenomenon
is most noticeable with mixtures weak in gas, in which
the maximum temperature reached is low, and the dis-^
sociation effect is correspondingly small. It appears,'
therefore, that dissociation is not the main cause of the
action ; apart from it the process of combustion ^ of a
gaseous mixture is gradual, beginning fast and going on
at a continuously-diminishing rate as the combustible
mixture becomes more and more diluted by the portions
already burnt. If thB mixture is much diluted to begin
with, the process is comparatively slow from the first.
261. Much stress has been laid by some makers of gas- Stratit
engines on the desirability of having a stratified mixture saUooi
of gases in the cylinder, with a part rich in gas near the
ignition port and a greater proportion of residual product
or air near the piston. It has even been supposed that
stratification of the gases is the cause of their gradual
combustion. Mr Clerk's experiments are conclusive
against this ; the mixtures he used, which gave in some
cases very gradual explosions, were allowed to stand long
enough to become sensibly homogeneous. In dealing with
weak mixtures it is no doubt of advantage to have a small
quantity of richer fluid close to the igniting port to start
the ignition of the rest,— but beyond this stratification
has probably iittlo or no value. And it may be questioned
whether, in the ordinary working of a gas-engine, any
general stratification can occur, when account is taken of
the commotion which the air and gas cau.so as they rush into
the cylinder at a speed exceeding that of an express train.
262. A compression gas-engine of the Otto typo burns
from 20 to 25 cubic feet of coal-gas per hour per indicated
horse-power. Good coal-gac has a heating power equiva-
lent to about 500,000 foot-pounds per cubic foot, and
hence, with a consumption of 20 cubic feet the efficiency
which the engine realizes is nearly 02. The efficiency of
a largo steam-engine is about O'U, and in steam-engines
that are small enough to bo fairly compared with actual
gas-engines the cflicicncy is not more than 01 The
superiority of gas-engines over steam-onginca, from tbq
526
S T E A :M - E >ij G I N E
[O&S-ENOIKES.
thermodyoamic point of view, is ■well shown by comparing
their consumption of fuel. In the steam-engine we find
in good engines of large size a consumption of 2 2) or 1| lb
of coal per I.H.T'. per hour, and by triple expansion this
is reduced in large marine engines to about 1^ &>. On
the other hand, in small-power engines the consumption
is at least 2i lb, and is generally 3 lb or more. When Mr
Dowson's cheap gas,' 'which is produced by passing a
mixture of superheated steam and air through red-hot
anthracite, is used to drive an Otto engine, the consump-
tion of coal has been found to be only I'l lb per I.H.P.
per hour, or less than half the amount used by a steam-
engine of similar size. What gives this comparison
additional interest is the fact that the gas-producer for a
40 or 50 H.P. engine need not take up more space than
the boiler of a steam-engine of the same power.
263. In another sense the gas-engine is much less
perfect than the steam-engine. The actual efSciency of
the latter is about half the ideal efficiency which a perfect
engine would show when working through the saifle range
of temperature. In the gas-engine the actual is less than
one-fourth of the ideal efficiency. Taking the highest
temperature as 1900° C. — a value reached in some of
Mr Clerk's experiments — and the lowest temperature as
15° C, the efficiency of a perfect engine would.be 0-87,
while that of the actual engine is 0'2. This only means
that the gas-engine has all the greater margin for future
improvement.
264. At present the maintauses of wasteln gaS^efiglnes
are the action of the sides of the cylinder and the water-
» Min. Proc. Imt. C.£'.,TOl. Uilll. p. 311.
jacket, and the high temperature of the exhaust gases
The water-jacket absorbs about half the whole heat, only
to keep the cylinder cool enough to permit of lubrication.
The waste gases are discharged at a temperature of about
420° C, and so carry away a targe amount of heat which
might in part be saved by having a greater ratio of expan-
sion, or by the use of a regenerator. Another source of
thermodynamic imperfection is the after-burning, which
gives heat to the working substance at a temperature
lower than the maximum.
In an engine constructed by the late Sir William Siemens
it was attempted to do away with or reduce the two main
causes of loss — (1) by using a separate combustion-chamber,
distinct from the cylinder in which the piston worked, and
(2) by passing the exhaust gases through a regenerator,
which afterwards gave up heat to the incoming air and gas.-
The late Prof. Fleeming Jenkin endeavoured to attain the
same ends by adapting the Stirling type of engine to inter-
nal combustion, a mixture of gas and air being exploded
under a displacer like that of fig. 1 4 1 . Practical difficulties
have hitherto prevented regenerative internal-combustion
engines fro pi coming into use, but it can scarcely be doubted
that their development is only a question of time. With
regard to the probable future of heat-engines, it is important
to notice that the internal-combustion engine using gaseous
fuel, though already much more efficient than the ateam-
engine, is crude and full of defects which further inven-
tion ought to remove, while the steam-engiue has been
improved so far that little increase in its efficiency can be
expected, and more than a little is impossible. (j. a. je.)
• S>«m«iit,
oj:., issj.
DUcuuton on ibd TUeor7 of the Gu-Ecgliie." Uia^ Pnc Jmi.
Index.
Absolute temperature, 3f),
«.
Adiabatlo expansion, 36;
of eteam, 67, 76.
£olipile, 2.
Alr-entrtnea, 240-247;
Stlrllne's, 64. 244-246;
Ericsson's, 246.
Alr-pamp, 11, 196, 226.
Alsatian ezperlmeota, 80,
80.
American experiments,
80, 90, 93.
American locomotive, 134,
283.
An^ar advance, 145.
AtH-jrlmlng pipe, IJg.
Automatic expansion
gear, 173-175.
BaiTlng engines, 198.
Beam-engines, 192.
Bearings, 196.
Belghton, 10.
boMe, 230.
BoUers, U3-143;~Cor-
nUh. 16, 127; Lanca-
eWre, 127-128; OaUo-
■way, 129; tnbnjai, 130;
vertical, 131 ; sectional
or tubuloos, 132; loco-
motive, 133-134;
marine, 135; use of
zinc in, 140.
Boyle's law, 28.
Branca, 4.
Bremmeor Marshall gear,
166.
Brotherhood engine, 203.
Cataract. 163.
Cawley, 9.
Charies's Jiv, SB.
Chimney draught, 125.
Circulating pnmp, 228.
Clark, D. K., 80.
Clausius. 22, 76.
Clearance, 78
Clerk's gas-jngine, 254 ;
experiments on ezplo-
tloC, ,■'.', 2C:.
Compound engine, 17,
'^111-122, 191; advan-
tages of, 93, 116.
Compression in steam-
engines, 79; In air and
gas engines, 246, 249.
Condensation, initial, 60-
93.
Condenser. 71, 196, 225.
Corliss gaar, 17ii asgine,
198.
Cornish boUer, 16, 1S7;
engine. 18 ; valve, 163,
Crank-effort, diagram oE,
183-183.
C'^uk shaft, torsional vl-
oraclon of, 190.
Crosby indicator, 98.
Cushioning, 79, 202.
Cut-off, 72; variation of,
169, 173-175.
Cycle of operations, 26 1
Camot's, 40, 68.
Cylinder walls, influence
of, 80-93.
Dash-pot, 171.
De Caus, 3.
Delia Porta, 8.
Diagonal engines, 216.
Dowson gas, 262.
Drop In compound en-
gines, 113.
Dust fuel, 143.
Duty of engines, 18, 95.
Eccentric, 144.
Efficiency of a heat-en-
gine, 23. 94; pertect,
46, 69; methods of
testing, 97, 102;rtsnlta
of tests of, 96, 96, 103 ;
of boiler and furnace,
95 ; of mechanism,
110; of gas-engines,
26 J- 264.
Evans, 16.
Exhaust. 72,
Exhaust waste. iu8.
Expansion, adiabatic, 38,
£7; Isothermal, 89;
The numerott f
actual, in steam-en-
gines, 82; Incomplete,
74 ; work done in, 36.
Expansion sUd&.valve,157
-159.
Expansive use of steam,
14, 72,
Feed-pump, 137. K8.
Feed-water-heater, 138,
224.
Fly-wheela, theory of,
189.
Forced draught, 126, 141,
228.
Fusible plug, 128.
Galloway boiler, 129 ;
tubes, 127.
Oas-eoglnes, 250 - 364 ;
Lenoir's, 251 ; Otto and
Langen'S, 252; Otto's,
253 ; Clerk's, 264 ;
theory of, 266-264;
e.Scieocy of, 262-264.
Gases, permanent, laws
of, 28-33.
Governors, 164-181 ; dis-
engagement, 17G; dif-
ferential, 178; marine,
179, 181.
Hackworth valve-gear,
168.
Hallauer, 80, 90.
Heut-engine defined, 1 ;
theory of, 23-54j per-
fect, 46.
Heautefeuille, 7.
Hero of Alexandria, 2.
High-speed engines, 197,
202-204.
Him, 23, 80, 93.
Historical sketch. 3-22.
Horizontal eng'me, 195-
217.
Homblower. 17.
Horie-power, 14; meas-
urement of, 100.
Hnnllng, 171.
Huygens, /.
Hydrokineter, l.'lT.
'e/et' to the sections.
Indicator, 14, 98, 99.
Indicator, diagram, 25 ;
examples of, 101; com-
pound, 117-122 ; in gas-
engines, 251, 867, 269.
Injector, 137.
Internal-combustion en-
gines, 348-364.
Internal energy, 34.
Isochronism of governors,
170.
Isothermal expansion, 89.
Joule's equivalent, 33.
Joule's law, 8G.
Joy valve-gear, 156.
Lap, 145.
Lead, 146.
Leopold, 15.
Liner, 195.
Link motion, 152-165.
Liquid fuel, 143.
Locomotive, 229-240;
early, 20; compotmd,
234-336; tramway,
237-239; fl^el6s^ 238;
road. 240.
Locomotive boiler, 133-
134.
M'Naught, 19, 08.
Mallet's compound loco-
motive, 234.
Marine engines, 213-228.
Mechanical equivalent of
heat, 23.
Mechanical stokers, 143.
Moscrop recorder, 182.
Newcomen, 9, 10.
Oscillatlng-cylinder en-
gtnee, 315.
Otto's gas-engine, 253.
Papln, 8.
Parallel motion, 103-194.
Petroleum engines, 250.
Piston paddng. 195.
Piston. valves, 161.
Pony truck, 230.
Potter, 10.
Pressure gatige, 128.
Priming, 94.
ProfeTl expansion gear,
176.
Polsometer, 208.
Pumping engines, 205-
208.
Quadruple. expansion en-
gines, 120, 3'23.
Radial axle-box, 230,
Radial valve-gears, 166.
Kankine, 22, 75; his
statement of second
law of thermodyua.
mics, 48.
Receiver, 112.
Regenerative gas-en-
gines, 264.
Regenerator, 63.
Regnault's law, 31 ; his
experiments on steam,
67.
Release, 72.
Relief rings, 160.
Reversibility, 43^6; con-
ditions of, 60-62.
Reversing gear, 152-166.
Richards's indicator, 98.
Rotary engines, 210.
Safety motor (Davey)
209.
Safety-valve, 8, 12&
Savery, 6.
Separator, 139.
Side-lever engines, 213.'
Siemens, 178, 264.
Slide-valve, theory of,
144-160.
Specific heat, 31 ; of gases,
35; of water,' 59.
Stationary engines, 191-
312.
Steam, properties of, 65-
67 ; latent beat of, 60;
saturated, 65 ; super-
heated, 65, 65 ; den.
slty of, 58, 76; total
beat of, 61 ; internal
energy of, 62; adia-
batic expansion of, 67,
75; heat of formation
of, 63 ; wet, 64, «t, 74.
104 ; isothermal ex.
panslon of, Q6.
Steam-gas, 66.
Sleam.jacket, 11, 87, 88.
Steam turliine, 213.
Steeple-engine, 213.
Stirling's air-engine, 6^
54, 244-246.
Sun-and-planet wheels,
13.
Tandem engines, 111.
Thermodynamics, laws of,
23^
Thomson, Sir W., 22, 49.
Tower's spherical engiDj^
211.
Traction engines, 340.
Tramway tocomotives-
237-239.
Trevlthlck, 16.
Trick valve, 151.
Triple-expansion engines^
119, 221-223.
T]-unk engine, 216.
■Valves, slide, 144-162;
gears, radial, 156 ;
expansion, 157; piston,
161; lift or disk, 163;
Corliss, 174; throttle,
173; safety, 8, 128;
Trid^ 151 ; double-
ported, 151.
Vertical engines, 301,318.
Wall engines, 201.
Watt, 11, 12. 13, 14, \l.
Webb's compound loco-
motive, 235.
Weight of engines, 228.
Winding engines, 199.
Wire-drawing, 7T.
Woolf, 17.
Woolf engine. 111.
Worcester, marquis of, 6.
Working substance, 24.
Worthlnglon engine, 206-
^ 207'.
tenner's slide-valve di&'
gram, 147.
a T E — S T E
5-27
STEAM HAMMER. See Hammer.
STEARINE, in commerce, designates a solid mixture
of fatty acids (chiefly palmitic and stearic) which is being
produced industrially from animal fats and used largely for
the making of candles. In chemistry it is a generic term
for the three " esters " derivable from glycerin, C3Hj(OH)3,
by the replacement of one or more of the three (OH).'s by
the residue CigH3502, which, in stearic acid, is combined
•with "H." Of these tri-stearine, C3H5(Ci8H350j)3, is the
most important; it occur.s in animal fats only, largely in
tallow. It crystallizes from ether in white pearly nodules,
insoluble in cold but easily soluble in boiling alcohol. It
can be distilled undecomposed w vacuo. On gradual ex-
posure to higher temperatures it fuses at 55° C. ; it then
resolidifies, and then fuses again (permanently) at 71°"5
(Heintz). The specific gravity of the liquid is 09245 at
65°'5 C. (Duffy).
STEEL. See Iron.
STEELE, Sir Richard (1672-1729), oue of the most
active and prominent men of letters in the reign of Queen
Anne, inseparably associated in the history of literature
with his personal friend Addison. He cannot be said to
have lost in reputation by the partnership, because he was
far inferior to Addison in purely literary gift, and it is
Addison's literary genius that has floated their joint work
above merely journalistic celebrity ; but the advantage
wa-x not all on Steele's side, inasmuch as his more brilliant
coadjutor has usurped not a little of the merit rightly due
to him. Steele's often-quoted generous acknowledgment
of Addison's services in The Taller has proved true in
a, somewhat different sense from that intended by the
•writer : — " I fared like a distressed prince, who calls in a
powerful neighbour to his aid ; I was undone by my
auxiliary ; when I had once called him in I could not
Bubsist without dependence on him." The truth is that
in this happy alliance the one was the complement of the
other ; and the balance of mutual advantage was much
more nearly even than Steele claimed or posterity has
generally allowed.
The famous literary pair were born in the same year,
1672,— Steele in Dublin, the senior by less than two
months. Steele's father, who is said to have been a
lawyer, died before he had reached his sixth year, but
the boy found a protector in his maternal uncle, Henry
Gascoigne, secretary and confidential agent to two .suc-
cessive dukes of Ormonde. Through his influence he
was Dominatvjd to' the Charterhouse in 1684, and t .ere
first met with Addison. -Five years afterwards he pro-
ceeded to Oxford, and was a postmaster at Jlerton when
Addison was a demy at Magdalen. Their schoolboy
friendship was continued at the university, and probably
helped to give a more serious turn to Steele's mind than
his natural temperament would have taken under different
companionship. Addison's reverend father also took an
interest in the warm-hearted young Irishman ; but their
combined influence did not steady him sufficiently to keep
his impulses within the lines of a regular career ; without
waiting for a dogioe he volunteered into the army, and
served for some time as a cadet " under the command of
the unfortunate diiko of Ormonde." This escapade was
made without his uncle's consent, and cost him, according
to his own account, " the succession to a very good estate
in the county of Wexford in Ireland." Still, ho did not
lack advancement in the profession ho had chosen. A
poem on the funeral of Queen Mary (lC9f)), dedicated to
Lord Cutts, colonel of the Coldstream Guards, brought
him under the uotico of that nobleman, who took the
gentleman trooj)er into his household ns .a secretary, made
liiin an officer in his own regiment, and uiliiniilely jiro-
curcd for him a captaincy in Lord Lucas's fusiliers.
His naae was noted for promotion by King WilUam, but
the king's death took place before anything had been
done for Captain Steele. He would seem to • have
remained in the army, though never on active service, for
several years longer.
Steele probably owed tne king's favour to honest admira-
tion of the excellent principles of The Chi-iuian Hero,
his first prose treatise, published in 1701. The "reforma-
tion of manners " was a cherished purpose with King
William and his consort, which they tried to effect by
proclamation and Act of Parliament ; and a sensible well-
written treatise, deploring the irregularity of the military
character, and seeking to prove by examples — the king
himself among the number — " that no principles but
those of religion are sufficient to make a great man," was
sure of attention. Steele complained that the reception
of The Christian Hero by his comrades was not so respect-
ful ; they persisted in. trying him by his own standard,
and would not pass " the least levity in his words and
actions " without protest. The sensitive and hot-headed
" hero " would seem to have been teased into fighting a
duel, — his first and last, for he wounded his antagonist
dangerously, and from that time was a staunch opponent
of affairs of honour. His uneasiness under the ridicule
of his irreverent comrades had another curious result : it
moved him to write a comedy. "It was now incumbent
upon him," he says, ".to enliven his character, for which
reason he writ the comedy called The Funeral." Although,
however, it was Steele's express purpose to free his
character from the reproach of solemn dulness, and prove
that he could write as smartly as another, he showed
greater respect for decency than had for some time been
the fashion on the stage. The purpose, afterwards more
fully effected in hie famous periodicals, of reconciling wit,
good humour, and good breeding with virtuous conduct
was already deliberately in Steele's mind when he wrote
his first comedy. It was produced and published in 1701,
was received on the stage with favour, and. owing to its
comparative purity helped, along with The Christian Hero,
to commend its author to King William. In his next
comedy. The Lying Lover, or the Ladies' Frieml^dp, pro-
duced two years afterwards, iii 1703, Steele'.s moral purpose
was directly avowed ; and the play, according to his own
statement, was "damned for its piety." The Tender Hus-
band, produced eighteen months later (in April 1705),
though not less pure in tone, was more successful ; in this
play he gave unmistakable evidence of his happy genius
for conceiving and embodying humorous types of character,
putting on the stage the parents or grandparents of Squire
Western, Tony Lumpkin, and Lydia Languish. It was
seventeen years before Steele again tried his fortune on
the stage with The Consciovs Lovers, the best and most
successful of his comedies, produced in 1722.
Meantime the gallant captain had turnea aside to
another kind of literary work, in which, with the as.siatance
of his friend Addison, he obtained a more enduring
reputation. There never was a time when literary talent
was so much sought after and rewarded by statesmen.
Addison had already been waited on in " his humble
lodgings in the Haymarkct," and advanced to office, when
his friend the successful dramatist was appointed to the
office of gazetteer. This was in Jlay 1707. It was
Steele's first connexion with jouchalism. The periodical
was at that time taking the place of the pamphlet as an
instrument for working on public opinion. The Uiuette
gave little opening for the play of Steele's lively pen, his
main duty, as ho says, having been to " keep the paper
very innocent and very insipid " ; but the po,sition made
him familiar with a new field of enterprise in which bis
inventive mind soon discerned materials for a. project ofi
528
S T E — S T E
his own. ^ The Taller made its first appearance on tne
12th of April 1709. It was partly a newspaper, a journal
of politics and society, published three times a week.
Steele's position as gazetteer furnished him with special
advantages for political news, and as a popular habitu(5
of coffee-houses he was at no loss for social gossip. But
Steele not only retailed and commented on social news, a
function in which he had been anticipated by Defoe and
others ; he also introduced into The Tatler as a special
feature essays on general questions of manners arid
morality. It is not strictly true that Steele was the
inventor of the English "essay," — there were essayists
before the 18th century, notably Cowley and Temple ;
but he was the first to use the essay for periodical pur-
poses, and he and Addison together developed a distinct
species, to which they gave a permanent character and in
which they had many imitators. As a humbler motive
for this fortunate venture Steele had the pinch of im-
pecuniosity, due rather to excess of expenditure than to
smallness of income. He had £300 a year from his
gazetteership, £100 as gentleman usher to Prince George,
£800 from the~ Barbados estates of his first wife, ^ and
some fortune by his second wife — Mrs Mary Scurlock,
the "Dear Prue" of his charming letters. But Steele
lived in considerable state after this second marriage,
and was reduced to the necessity of borrowing before
he started The Tatler. The assumed name of the editor
was Isaac BickerstaffeJ but Addison discovered the real
author in the sixth number, and began to contribute in
the eighteenth. It is only fair to Steele to state that the
success of The Tatter was established before Addison joined
him, and that Addison contributed to only forty-two of
the two hundred and seventy-one numbers that had
appeared when the paper was stopped in January 1711.
Only two months elapsed between the stoppage of The
Tatler and the appearance of The Spectator, which was
the organ of the two friends from March 1, 1711 till
December 6, 1712. Addison was the chief contributor to
the new venture, and the history of it belongs more to his
life. Nevertheless it is to be remarked as characteristic
of the two writers that in this as in The Tatler Addison
generally follows Steele's lead in the choice of. subjects.
The first suggestion of Sir Koger de Coverley was Steele's,
although it was Addison that filled in the outline of a
good-natured country gentleman with the numerous little
whimsicalities that convert Sir Roger into an amiable
and exquisitely ridiculous provincial oddity. Steele had
neither the fineness of touch nor the humorous malice that
gives life and distinction to Addison's picture; the Sir
Roger of his original hasty sketch has good sense as well as
good nature, and the treatment is comparatively common-
place from a literary point of view, thojigh unfortunately
not commonplace in its charity. Steele's suggestive
vivacity gave many another hint for the elaborating skill
of his friend.
The Spectator was followed by The Guaj-dian, the first
number of which appeared on the 12 th of March 1713.
It had a much shorter career, extending to only a
hundred and seventy-five numbers, of which Steele wrote
eighty-two and Addison fifty-three. This was the last of
his numerous periodicals in which he had the assistance of
the great essayist. But he continued for several years to
project journals, under great variety of titles, some of
them political, some social in their objects, most of them
very short-lived. Steele was a warm partisan of the
principles of the Revolution, ardent and earnest in his
political as in his otber convictions. The Enf/lishman
' The name of this lady — a widow, Mrs Margaret Stretch — and
some facts about her liave heen ascertained by Mr George A. AitkeD.
See Athenxum, May 1, 1886, and Mr Dobson's Steele, pp. 51, 218.
was started in January 1714, immediately after the
stoppage'of The Guardian, to assail the policy of the Tory
ministry. 'The Lover, started some six weeks later, was
more general in its aims ; but it gave place in a month
or two to The Reader, a direct counterblast to the Tory
Exam,iner. The Englishman was resuscitated for another
volume in 1715; and in the same year he projected in
rapid succession three unsuccessful ventures, — I'own Talk,
The Tea Table, and Chit-Clvat. Three years later he
started his most famous political paper, The Fleheian,
rendered memorable by the fact that in it he had to
contend against his old ally Addison. The subject of
controversy between the two life-long friends was Sunder-
land's Peerage Bill. Steele's last venture in journalism
was The Theatre, 1719-20, the immediate occasion of
which was the revocation of his patent for Drury Lane.
So ready was Steele in this kind of enterprise, which he
could always conduct single-handed, that apparently
whenever he felt strongly on any subject he at once started
a journal to give vent to his feelings. Besides these
journals he wrote also several pamphlets on passing
questions, — on the disgrace of Marlborough in 1711, on
the fortificaticms of Dunkirk in 1713, on the "crisis"
in 1714, An Apology for himself and his Writings
(important, biographically) in the same year, on the South
Sea mania in 1720.
The fortunes of Steele as a zealous Whig varied with
the fortunes- of his party. He lost his gazetteership when
the Tories came into power in 1710. Over the Dunkirk
question he waxed so hot that he threw up a pension and
a commissionership of stamps, and went into parliament
as member for Stockbridgfe to attack the ministry with
voice and vote as well as with pen. But he had not sat
many weeks when he was expelled from the House for
the language of bis pamphlet on The Crisis, which waa
stigmatized as seditious. The Apology already mentioned
was his vindication of himself on this occasion. With the
accession of the house of Hanover his fortunes changed.
Honours and substantial rewards were showered upon him.
He was made a justice of the peace, deputy-lieutenant of
Middlesex, surveyor of the royal stables, governor of the
royal company of comedians — the last a lucrative post, and
was also knighted (1715). After the suppression of the
Jacobite rebellion he was appointed one of the commis-
sioners of forfeited estates, and spent some two years in
Si. tland in that capacity. He obtained a patent fcr a plan
for ringing salmon alive from Ireland. Differing from
his 1 jnds in power on the question of the Peerage Bill in
1718, he was deprived of some of his ofiices, but when
Walpole became chancellor of the exchequer in 1721
he was reinstated. But with all his emoluments the
imprudent, impulsive, ostentatious, and generous Steele
could never get clear of financial difficulties, and he was
obliged to retire from London in 1724 and live in the
country. He spent his last years on his wife's estate of
Llangunnor in Wales, and, his health broken down by a
paralytic seizure, died on the Istof September 1729.
A selection from Steele's essays has been edited by Mr Austin
Dobson, who prefixes a careful and sympathetic memoir. Mr Dob-
sou has since written a fuller biography in Mr Lang's series of
English Jf^orthies. W. M.) '
STEELYARD, Merchants of the, were Hanse mer-
chants who settled in London in 1250 at the steelyard on
the river side, near Cosin Lane, now Iron Bridge Wharf.
Henry III. in 1259, at the request of bis brother Richard,
earl of Cornwall, conferred on them important privileges,
which were renewed and confirmed by Edward I. It was
chiefly through their enterprise that the early trade of
London was developed, and they continued to flourish till,
on the complaint of the Merchant Adventurers in the reigq
!S T E — S T E
529
of Edward VI., tuey were deprived of tlieir privileges.
Though Hamburg and Lubeck sent ambassadors to inter-
cede for them, they were not reinstated in their monopolies,
but they succeeded in maintaining a footing in London
till e.xpelled by Elizabeth in 1597. Their beautiful guild-
hall in Thames Street, described by Stow, was made a
naval store-house. It contained two famous pictures,
painted in distemper by Holbein, representing Poverty
and Kiches, which were presented by the Hanse merchants
to Henry, prince of Wales, and came into the possession
of Charles I., but are supposed to have perished in the
fire which destroyed Whitehall.
STEEN, Jan Havicksz (1626-1679), subject-painter,
was born at Leyden in 1626, the son of a brewer of the
place. He studied at Utrecht under Nicholas Knuffer, an
historical painter, and about 1644 went to Haarlem, where
he worked under Adrian van Ostade and under Jan van
Goijen, whose daughter he married in 1649. In the
previous year ho had joined the painters' guild of the
city. In 1667 he is said to have been a brewer at Delft,
and in 1672 he received municipal authority to open a
tavern. The accounts of his life, however, are very con-
fused and conflicting. Some biographers have asserted
that he was a drunkard and of dissolute life, but the
number of his works — Van Westrheene. in his Jan Steen,
Elude sur I'Art en Holland, has catalogued nearly five
hundred — is sufficient in itself to disprove the charge.
His later pictures bear marks of haste and are less care-
fully finished than those of his earlier period. Ho died
at Leyden in 1679.
The works of Jan Steen are distinguished by correct-
ness of drawing, admirable freedom and spirit of touch,
and clearness and transparency of colouring. But their
true greatness is due to their intellectual qualities. In
the wide range of his subjects, and their dramatic charac-
ter, he surpasses all the Dutch iigure-painters, with the
single exception of Rembrandt. His productions range
from the stately interiors of- grave and wealthy citizens to
tavern scenes of jollity and debauch. He painted chem-
ists in their laboratories, doctors at the bedside of their
patients, card-parties, marriage feasts, and the festivals of
St Nicholas and. Twelfth Night, — even religious subjects,
though in these he was least successful. His rendering of
children is especially delightful. Dealing- often with the
coarser side of things, his work is full of humour; he de-
picts the comedy of human life in a spirit of very genial
toleration, but now and again there appear keenly telling
touches of satire which recall such a pictorial moralist as
Hogarth.
The National Gallery contains one picture oy Jan Stcon, — the
Music Master ; and other excellent examples of Iiis art are pre-
served in the Royal, the Bute, the Ashburton, and the Northbiook
collections, at Apsley House and Bridgewator House, and in tho
galleries of The Hague, Amsterdam, and the Hermitage, St Peters-
burg.
STEFFANI, Agostino (1655-1730), ecclesiastic, diplo-
matist, and musical composer, was born at Castelfranco in
1655, and at a very early age was admitted as a chorister
at St Mark's in Venice. In 1667 the beauty of his voice
attracted tho attention of Count Tattonbach, by whom he
was taken to Munich, wliere his education was completed
at the expense of Ferdinand Maria, elector of Bavaria,
who appointed him " Churfiirstlicher Kammer- und Hof-
musikus," and granted him a liberal salary. After receiving
instruction from Johann Kaspar Kerl, and possibly Ercolo
Bernabei, ho was sent in 1673 to study in Rome, where,
among other works, ho composed six motets, the original
MSS. of which are now in the Fitzwiliiam Museum at
Cambridge. On his return to. Munich in 1674 ho pub-
lished his first work, Psnlmodia Vtsperlina, o. part of which
was reprinted in Martini's Saggio di Contrax>punto in 1674.
In 1675 he was appointed court organist, and in 1680 he
was ordained priest, with the title of abbate of Lepsing.
His- ecclesiastical status did not, however, prevent him
from turning his attention to the stage, for which, at
different periods of his life, he composed works which un-
doubtedly exercised a potent influence upon the dramatic
music of the period. Of his first opera, Marco Aurelio,
produced at Munich in 1681, the only copy finown to
exist is a MS. score preserved in the royal library at
Buckingham palace. It was followed by Solone in 1685,
Strvio Tullio in 1686, Alarico in 1687, and Niobe in 1688 ;
but of these four last-named works no trace can now be
discovered. Niobe was the last opera Steffani composed
at Munich. Notwithstanding the favour shown to him
by the elector Maximilian Emanuel, he accepted in 1689
the appointment of kapellmeister at the court of Hanover,
where he speedily gained the goodwill of Ernest Augustus,
duke of Brunswick-Liineburg (afterwards raised to the
dignity of elector of Hanover), the duchess Sophia
Charlotte (afterwards electress of Brandenburg), the
philosopher Leibnitz, the abbate Ortensio Mauro, and
many men of letters and intelligence, and where, in 1710,
he showed great kindness to Handel, who was then just
entering upon his glorious career. He inaugurated a long
series of triumphs in Hanover by composing, for the
opening of the now opera-house in 1689j an opera called
EnHco il Leone, which was produced with extraordinary
splendour and achieved an immense reputation. For the
same theatre he composed La Lotta d'Ercole con Achilleo
in 1689, La Superbia d'Alessandro in 1690, Orlando
Generoso in 1691, Le Rivali Concordi in 1692, La LiberWl
Contenta in 1693, / Trionfi del Fato and I Baccanali in
1G95, and Briseide in 1696. The libretto of Briseide is
by Palmieri. Those of most if not all the others are by
tho abbate Mauro. The scores are preserved at Buck-
ingham palace, where, in company with five volumes of
songs and three of duets, they form part of the collec-
tion brought to England by the elector of Hanover in
1714. But it was not only as a musician that Steffani
distinguished himself in his new home. The elevation of
Erne,st Augustus to the electorate in 1692 led to difficul-
ties, for tho arrangement of wliich it was necessary that
an ambassador should visit the various German courts,
armed with a considerable amount of diplomatic power.
The accomplished abbate was sent on this delicate mission
in 1696, with the title of envoy extraordinary; and he
fulfilled his difficult task so well that Pope Innocent XL,
in recognition of certain privileges he had secured for the
Hanoverian Catholics, consecrated him bishop of Spiga
in pdrtibus infideliutn. In 1698 he was sent as ambas-
sador to Brussels ; and after the death of Ernest Augustus
in the same year ho' entered the service of the elector
palatine, John William, at Diissoldorf, where he held the
ofliccs of privy councillor and protonotary of the holy see.
Invested with these high honours, Steffani could scarcely
continue to produce dramatic compositions in public with-
out grievous broach of etiquette. But his genius was too ,
real to submit to repression ; and in 1709 lie ingeniously
avoided tho difficulty by producing two new operas — Enea
at Hanover and Tassilone at Diisseldorf — in the name of
his secretary and amanuensis Gregorio Piva, whoso sig-
nature is attached to tho scores preserved at Buckingham
palace. Another score — that of Arminio — in tlio same
collection, dated Dusseldorf, 1707, and evidently tho work
of Steffani, bears no composer's name.
Steffani did not accompany tho elector George to Eng-
land ; but in 1724 the Academy of Antient Musick in
London elected him its honorary president for life ; and
in return for the compliment he sent tho association a
maguificont Stabat MaUr, for six voices and orchusttfl
22—20
530
S T E — S T E
and three fine madrigals, 'ihe MSS. of these are still in
existence ; and the British Museum possesses a very fine
Confitebov, for three voices and orchestra, of about the same
period. All these compositions are very much in advance
of the age in which they were written : and in his operas
StefFani shows an appreciation of the demands of the stage
very remarkable indeed at a period at which the musical
drama was gradually approaching the character of a mere
formal concert, with scenery and dresses. But for the
MSS. at Buckingham palace, these operas would be utterly
unknown ; but Steffani will never cease to be remembered
by his beautiful chamber duets, which, like those of his
contemporary Carlo Maria Clari (1669-1745), are chiefly
written it; *he form of cantatas for two voices, accompanied
by a figured bass. The British Museum possesses more
than a hundred of these charming compositions,^ some of
which were published at Munich in 1679. Steffani visited
Italy for the last time in 1729, in which year Handel, who
always gratefully remembered the kindness he had received
from him at Hanover, once more met him at the palace of
Cardinal Ottoboni in Rome. This Was the last time the
two composers were destined to meet. Steffani returned
Boon afterwards to Hanover, and died in 1730 while
engaged in the transaction of some diplomatic business at
Frankfort.
STEIBELT, Daniel {c. 1760-1823), pianist and com-
poser, was born between the years 1755 and 1765 at
Berlin, where he studied, at the expense of the crown
prince Frederick William, under Kirnberger. Very little
is known of his artistic life before 1790, when he settled
in Psii'is, and attained great popularity as a virtuoso by
itieans of a pianoforte sonata called La Coquette, which
he composed, in conjunction with Hermann, for Queen
Marie Antoinette, and almost equal credit as a dramatic
composer by an opera entitled Romeo et Jtdiette, produced
at the Theatre Feydeau in 1793. In 1796 Steibelt re-
moved to London, where his pianoforte playing attracted
an amount of attention which in 1798 was raised to an
absolute furore by the production of his concerto (No. 3,
in Eb) containing the famous "Storm Eondo" — a work
that ensured his popularity, in spite of the far higher
claims of dementi, Dussek, and John Baptist Cramer,
*hose attainments as virtuosi, composers, and thoroughly
accomplished artists were infinitely superior to his own.
In the following year Steibelt started on a professioUal
tour in Germany ; and, after playing with some success
in Hamburg, Dresden, Prague, and Berlin, he arrived in
May 1800 at Vienna, where, with the arrogance which
formed one of the most prominent characteristics of his
nature, he challenged ' Beethoven to a trial of skill, which
naturally resulted in his irretrievable discomfiture. His
position in Germany being no longer tenable after this
pitiful failure, he retired to Paris, and during the next
eight years lived alternately in that city and in London,
■where his reputation continued undiminished. In 1808
ihe was invited by the emperor Alexander to St Peters-
burg, and there he resided, in the enjoyment of a lucrative
appointment, until his death on September 20, 1823.
Besides his dramatic music, Steibelt left behind him an enormous
number of compositions lor the pianoforte, many of which exhibit
a certain amount of originality, though they can scarcely be
regarded as works of genius. His plajdng, though exceedingly
brilliant, was wanting in the higher qualities which so strikingly
Sharactfci'i7.cd that of his contemporaries, Jolin Cramer and Muzio
Clemen ti; but he was undoubtedly gifted with talents of a very
high order, and the reputation he enjoyed was fairly earned and
honourably maintained to the end.
STEIN, Heinkich Friedrich Karl, Baron vom und
ZUM (1757-] S^l), one of the greatest of German statesmen,
Bnd perhaps the most influential forerunner of Bismarck in
'^dd. MSS. 6055 «?,
the creation of German nnity, was born at Nassau on
October 26, 1757. He was a member of the independent
noblesse or knighthood of the German empire (Reichsritter-
schaft), and his ancient family seat. Burg Stein, lies on a
hill rising above the Lahn opposite Nassau. In his auto-
biography he speaks of his parents as " pious and genuinely
German," and ascribes to their teaching his own religious
and patriotic feelings, his sense of the dignity of his family
and order, and his conviction of the duty of devoting his
life to the public weal. Though the youngest but one of
ten children, Stein was selected by his parents as the
" Stammhalter," or representative and maintainer of the
family name and dignity, and his elder brothers acqui-
esced in this arrangement.
From 1773 to 1777 Stein studied political economy,
jurisprudence, and history at the university of Gdttingen,
where he made his first acquaintance with English insti-
tutions, his knowledge and appreciation of which are often
manifest in his later career. His ori_ginal intention was
to qualify for an appointment in the imperial courts, but
this sphere of work was little to his taste, and in 1780 ho
took the step, somewhat unusual for an imperial knight,
of entering the service of Prussia. He became an official
in the mining department, and by 1784 had risen to he
head of the administration of mines and manufactures
for Westphalia. In 1796 he was made supreme presi-
dent of the provincial chambers of Westphalia, an appoint-
ment which gave him opportunity to evince his great
administrative talents. In 1785 his administrative. career
was interrupted for a short time by a diplomatic mission
to the elector of Mainz, and in 1786-87 he made a
long professional tour in England, chiefly in the mining
districts.
In 1804 Stein was created a minister of state, with the
portfolio of excise, customs, manufactures, and trade. In
this capacity he abolished the internal customs duties
throughout Prussia, and effected several other needed
reforms ; but he was unable to modify the general disas-
trous tenour of the Prussian policy, which was now ripen-
ing for the catastrophe of Jena. Stein's remonstrances
with the king and his strictures upon the course of the
administration were couched in the most open and unspar-
ing language, and they were specially directed against the
system of government through privy cabinet counsellors,
who had practically come to supplant the ministers with-
out possessing either an official knowledge of affairs or
a ministerial responsibility. He refused to join in the
reconstituted ministry after Jena unless this abuse were
done away with, and Frederick William III., already
wounded by the frankness of Stein's criticism, sent him
his dismissal in a most ungracious form (January 3,
1807). Wlien the king, however, found himself left in
the lurch by his ally Russia, at the peace of Tilsit (July
9, 1807), he turned in despair to the strong and candid
counsellor he had dismissed half a year before, and invited
Stein to re-en to i hia service, practically on his own terms.
Curiously enough Stein's appointment as minister pre-
sident was encouraged by .Napoleon, who seems to have
seen in him merely the clever organizer and financier, who
would most easily put Prussia in a position to pay the
enormous war indemnity levied on it. Stein took office
on October 4, 1807, and at once begaij that weighty series
of organic reforms with which his name is most indis
solubly connected. The emancipation edict appeared on
October 9, 1807, a few days after the formal receipt of
his powers, and the municipal ordinance was. published
on November 19, 1808. In the interim he co-operated
zealously with Scharnhorst in the reconstitution of the
army, carried out a number of important Inancial and ad-
ministrative reforms, and prepared the way folr a thorough
S T E — S T E
531
t-econstructiou of the whoio framework of government,
which, however, he himself was not to have an opportunity
to effect.
Stein's momentous ministry did not last much more than
a year. Napoleon soon awoke to the eminently patriotic
and energetic character of the man he had incautiously re-
commended, and an intercepted letter gave him the oppor-
tunity to demand Stein's dismissal. Frederick ^Villiara
had no option but to comply, as he shrank from the only
possible alternative of an open breach with the French
emperor. Stein was proscribed by Napoleon, his property
in Westphalia was confiscated, and he himself had to take
Fefuge in Austria from the French troops.^
In 1812 the czar Alexander invited Stein to St Peters-
burg, where he filled the post of unofficial adviser to his
imperial majesty on German or rather on an ti -Napoleonic
affairs • and it would perhaps be difficult to overestimate
the influence of the proximity of such a man in keeping
Alexander's courage screwed to the sticking-point. When
the scene of the campaign of 1812 was transferred to
Germany, Stein was entrusted with the administration of
the Prussian districts occupied by the Russian troops, and
he shares with Yorck the merit of arousing East Prussia
to take arms against the French, and so of calling the
"Landwehr" into existence for the first tim6. To Stein
also mainly belongs the credit of effecting that union of
Russia and Prussia (treaty of Kalisch, February 27,
181.3) which was perhaps the main factor in the over-
throw of Napoleon. After the battle of Leipsic Stein
became supremo president of a central commission
appointed to administer the lands occupied by the allied
armiee, in which post he was indefatigable in providing
the men and material necessary for a successful prosecu-
tion of the war. AVhen the military struggle was over
Stein's work was practically done. The two tendencies
of absolutism on the one hand and particularism on the
other which determined the tone of the Vienna congress
were equally repugnant to him, and he took little part
in its deliberations. He also refused the invitations of
Austria and Pru.ssia to represent them at the Frankfort
diet, a makeshift in which ho had no confidence or hope.
The rest of his life he spent in retirement, sharing his
time between Frankfort and his property in Westphalia,
and the only office he ever again filled was that of marshal
of the provincial estates. In 1819 he founded the society
for the publication of the Monumenta GernumiSi Historica,
which has since done such admirable work. He died on
Juno 29, 1831, in his seventy-fourth year, on his estate
of Cappenberg in Westphalia, leaving a family of three
daughters. His wife was Countess von Walmoden-Gim-
born of Hanover, a granddaughter of George II.
Stein's distinijuisliiiig merit as a statesman is that ho was
|iracti.;nlly the first to see the urgent necessity of German unity,
to con£emi>late its realization as possible, and to inaugurate a policy
likely to bring it about. That which, now that it h.is been
aecomplisheil by Stein's great suceessor, seems to us almost a
matter ot course, was a raoro chimera to most of our forefathers,
antl it required the faculty of a political seer to attain Stein's clear
views of future possibilities. Stein saw, too, that the only hope
of salvation lay in the people as such, — that ho must. enlist tno
Bymi^athics of the nation and raise its moral tone. To this end a
sericf. of gieat and just reforms was necessary. If a deep national
sonti nent was to bo evoked, the people must bo freed from feudal
burdens ; if they were to carry on an effective etruggla for
in<!ependenco, they must first acquire personal liberty. His
emancipation edict, therefore, which has been called the habeas
corpus act of Prussia, abolished serfdom, did away with the dis-
tinctions of caste, and abrogated the feudal restrictions upon the
free disposition of person and property (compare Pkussia, vol. xx.
* Tlio beliel that Stein occupied himself during his retii'oment in
propagating his opinions through the " TugondLund " seems from recent
investigations to bo enoneous. He had no sympathy with secret
societies, nnil all indications go to show that ho rather disappdvod of
••be It^a^'U! than otherwise.
pp. 11, 12). This refOTm, however, Stein fonnd, in a sense, ready
to his hand ; it was demanded by the spirit of the times, and can
hardly be looked on as a purely individual achievement. Hia
most distinctive work was a great scheme of political reform, in
which he contemplated the conversion of the absolute monarchy
of Prussia into a free representative state. He wisely began the
process by introducing the principle of free local government in
his Stadto-Ordnung, or municipal ordinance. The people had to
be roused to take an interest in governing themselves, and it was
easier to e:^pand this interest from the local to the national than
to work down from the national to tba local. Stein did not see
much more than this begiuning of his plans, but the famous
" Political Testament " he drew up on leaving office shows how
wide-sweeping were the reforms lie contemplated. The right of
self-government was to be extended to the rural communes, and
a thorough reform of every branch of the administration was to bo
effected, while the coping-stone of the new edifice was to tako the
form of a free representative parliament Time, however, has been
on his side, and it is not too much to say with Prof. Von Treitschke
that every advance Germany has since made in political life has
brought it nearer the ideals of Stein.
The EtanilaviJ work on Stein is the biography by G. H. Perti, 6 vols., 1849-9S,
but few EnijUsli readers will feel the need of Rolng beyond Prof. Seeley's ad-
mirable Life and Times of Sinn, London, 1879. which also contains • tiUl biblio-
graphy, (J. P' M.)
STEINAMANGEIl(Hung..520»t6aifA«?y ; Lat. Sabaria),
the chief town of the trans-Danubian county of Vas,
Hungary, is an old place of some interest. Though it has
only 12,000 inhabitants, it is the seat of a Roman Catholic
bishop, and has a Dominican convent, a seminary, gymna-
sium, chamber of advocates, large orphanage, fine theatre,
and a number of superior Government offices. The in-
terior of the . cathedral is of great beauty, in the Italian
style. The town is at the junction of four different rail-
ways, and is rapidly rising in importance.
STEINER,- Jakob (1796-1863), one of the greatest
geometricians of all ages, was born on the 18th of Ma^ch
1796 at the Swiss village of Utzendorf (canton Bern).
Here ho grew up helping his father in his agricultural
pursuits, learning to write only at the age of fourteen.
At eighteen he became a pupil of Pestalozzi, and after-
wards studied at Heidelberg. Thence he went to Berlin,
earning a livelihood here as in Heidelberg by giving
private lessons. Here he became acquainted with Crelle,
who, encoiiraged by his ability and by that of Abel, then
also staying at Berlin, founded his famous Jownal (1826).
After Steiner's publication (1832) of his Si/sfematische
Enhvickelungen he got, through Jacobi's exertions, who
was then professor at Konigsberg, an honorary degree of
that university ; and through the influence of Jacobi and
of the brothers Alexander and Wilhelm von Humboldt a
new chair of geometry was founded for him at Berlin
(1834). This he occupied till his death, which took place
in Bern on April 1, 1863, after years of bad health.
Steiner's mathematical work was confined to geometry.
This he treated syntheticallj', to the total exclusion of
analysis, which he hated, and ho is said to have considered
it a disgrace to synthetical geometry if equal or higher
results were obtained by analytical methods. In his own
field he surpassed all his contemporaries. His investiga-
tions are distinguished by their great generality, by the
fertility of his resources, and by a rigour in his proofs
which rivals that of the ancients, bo that ho has been
considered the greatest geometrical genius since the time
of Apollonius.
Id his Si/sUmatiscfu! Enttmck-cJung dcr AlMngigkcit geomurixher
OcstalUn von einandcr he laid tho foundation on which synthetic
geometry in its present form rests. He introduces what aro now
called the geometrical forms (Uio row, flat pencil, Jsc), and e.-^tab-
lishes between their elements a one-one correspondence, or, as ho
calls it, makes them projective. He next gives by aid of those
projective rows and pencils a new generation of conies and ruled
quadric surfaces, "wliich leads quicker and more directly than
ionuer methods into the inner nature of conies and rcvesls lo us the
organic connexion of their innumerable projicrties and mysteries."
In this work also, of which unfortunately only one volume op»
peared instead of the projected five, wo si'e for the Crat time tn*
532
S T E — S T E
principle of duality introanccj from tlie very be£;iniiin£; as an im-
mejiate outflow of the most fundamental properties of the plane, the
line, and the point, so that a proof of its correctness is not required.
In a second little volnine. Die gcomcirischen Constructiouen aiisge-
filhrt iniltclst dcr gcradeii Linie und eines festal Krciscs (1833), ho
shows, what had been \beady suggested by Poucelet, how all prob-
lems of the second order can be solved by aid of the straisht-edge
alone without the use of compasses, as soon as one circle is giveu
on the drawing paper.
The rest of Steiner's writings are found in numerous papers mostly
Eublished in Crelle's Journal, the first volume of which contains
is first four papers. The most important are those relating
to algebraical curves and surfaces, especially the short paper
Allgemciyie Eigenschaften algcbraischer Curven. This contains only
results, and there is no indication'of the method by which they
were obtained, so that, according to Hesse, " they are, like Fermat's
theorems, riddles to the present and future generations." Eminent
analysts succeeded in proving some of the theorems, but it was
rcsecved to Cremona to prove them all, and that by a uniform
jyntlietic metliod, in his book on algebraical curves. Other import-
ant investigations relate to maxima and minima. Starting from
simple elementary propositions, Steiner advances to the solution
of problems which analytically require the calculus of variation,
but which at the time altogether surpassed the powers of that cal-
Dulus. Connected with this is the paper Vom KriXmmingsschwcr-
punde ebener Curven, which contains numerous properties of pedals
and roulettes, especially of their areas.
Steiner's papers have been collected and published in two volumes
by the Berlin Academy. His lectures on synthetic geometry, con-
taining the theory of conies, have been published since his death,
cditetl by Geiser and Schroter. Biographical notices are contained
in Reiser's pamphlet Zur Erinnerung an J. Stnner (Scbaffhausen,
1874).
STENDAL, a manufacturing town and important rail-
way junction in Prussian Saxony, and tLe former capital
of the Altraark, is picturesquely situated on the Uchte, 33
miles to the north-east of Magdeburg. Among the relics of
its former importance are the cathedral, built in 1420-24
(though originally founded in 1188) and restored in 1857,
the Gothic church of St Mary, founded in 14-47, a "Roland
column" of 1535, and two fortified gateways, dating from
the 13th century. The last form the chief remains of
the ancient fortifications, the site of which is now mostly
occupied by promenades. A monument to the archaeologist
Winckelraann (1717-68) commemorates his birth in the
town. Stendal is the seat of a large railway workshop,
and carries on various branches of textile industry, besides
the manufacture of tobacco, machinery, stoves, gold-leaf,
&c. The -earliest printing-press in the Altmark was erected
here, and published an edition of t\ieSachsenspiegel in 1488
as its first book. The population in 1885 was 16,186.
Stendal was founded in 1151 by Albert the Bear, on the site of a
Wendish settlement, and soon afterwards acquired a municipal
charter. Becoming capital- of the Altmark and a frequent imperial
residence, it rose to a considerable degree of prosperity, in part
recently restored to it by its railway connexions. AVhen the mark
was divided in 1258, Stendal became the seat of the elder or
Stendal branch of the house of Ascania, which, however, became
extinct in 1320. The original Wends were gradually fased with
the later Saxons, although the Platea Slavonica, mentioned in
1475, was still distinguished as the Wenden Strasss in 1567. The
population still exhibits a marked Slavonic element.
STENOGKAPHY. Sec Shorthand.
STEPHANUS BYZANTIUS, the author of a geo-
graphical dictionary entitled 'E^nKa, of which, apart from
some fragments, we possess only the beggarly epitome of
one Hermolaus. This work was first edited . under the
title Ilepi TToXfMV (Aldus, Venice, 1502) ; there are modern
editions by Dindorf (1825), Westermann (1839), and
Meineke (vol. i., 1850). Even in the imperfect form in
which we have it the book is of great value from the
references to ancient writers which it preserves. Her-
molaus dedicates his epitome to Justinian ; whether the
first or second emperor of that name is meant is disputed,
but it seems probable that Stephanus flourished in the
earlier part of the 6th century.
STEPHEN, St, described in late MSS. of Acts xxii. 20
and in subsequent ecclesiastical tradition as Ttpunoixapru^,
was one of tne first seven deacons who were chosen by
the church in Jerusalem at the' instance of the apostles.
He is spoken of as "a man full of faith and the Holy
Spirit," and, though his official function was rather the
"serving of tables " than the ministry of the word, the
narrative of the book of Acts shows him to have been
principally and pre-eminently a preacher. After a brief
period of popularity he was accused before the sanhedrin
as a blasphemer, and, without being allowed to finish his
speech in his own defence, he was hurried without the city
walls and stoned to death (c. 37 a.d.). " Devout men " —
an expression apparsntly used to denote the uncircumcised
adherents of the synagogue (see Acts x. 2) — buried Stephen
and made great lamentation over him. His martyrdom is
commemorated in the Latin Church on December 26 and
in the Greek on December 27. Ecclesiastical tradition
tells that in the year 415 his remains were discovered by
Lucian, priest of Caphar-Gamala near Jerusalem ; after
being deposited for some time in Jerusalem, they were
removed by the younger Theodosius to Constantinople,
and thence by Pope Pelagius to Rome. Some relics of
Stephen were also brought from Palestine to the West by
Orosius. Their discovery is commemorated on August 3.
The ministry and martyrdom of Stephen marked a great
crisis in the history of the relations of the Christian church
to the Gentile world. At first, we are informed, the early
disciples, numbering three thousand souls, " had favour
with all the people " (Acts ii. 47), who protected them
against the rulers, elders, and scribes ; " for all men glori-
fied God for that which was done" (Acts iv. 21), and the
people "magnified" the apo&tles (v. 13). It was this
great popularity of the disciples of Jesus in Jerusalem
that led to the ordination of the deacons. Soon a great
revulsion of feeling took place. Stephen, "full of grace
and power," had wrought "great wonders and signs
among the people " (vi. 8) ; then suddenly arose " certain
of the synagogue," disputing with Stephen, and were
" unable to withstand the wisdom and spirit by which he
spoke." What was the new and offensive element intro-'
duced by Stephen into the apostolic preaching? The
accusations against him, and his speech in his own de-
fence, alike show that he was the first to realize with any
clearness the gr-eatness of the Christian revolution, — the
incompatibility of the Mosaic institutions with the spiritu-
ality and freeness of the gospel and with its destiny to
become a message of salvation for the whole world. The
entire drift of his speech is to show the progressive
character of revelation, and to show that, as God had often
manifested Himself apart from the forms of the law and
the synagogue, these could not be held to be of the essence
of religion. The seed of much that is most distinctive of
the Pauline epistles was sown by the preaching of Stephen.
STEPHEN I., bishop of Rome from about 254 to 257;
followed Lucius L He withdrew from church fellowship
with Cyprian and certain Asiatic bishops on account of
their views as to the necessity of rebaptizing heretics
(Euseb., H. E., vii. 5 ; Cypr., Epp., 75). He is also
mentioned as having insisted on the restoration of the
bishops of Leon and Astorga, who had been deposed for
unfaithfulness during persecution, but afterwards had
repented. ' He is commemorated on August 2. His
successor was Sixtus II.
STEPHEN n., pope from March 752 to April 757, was
in deacon's orders when chosen to the vacant see within
twelve days after the death of Zacharias.'- The main
' Zachari&s died March 15, 752, and a presbyter named Stephen
was forthwith chosen to succeed him, who, however, died four days
afterwards and before consecration. This Stephen is occasionally
cilled Stephen II., the number of popes of the name being thus raised
to ten.
STEPHEN
iiiiS
difficnlty of his pontificate was in connexion with tiic
aggressive attitude of Aistulf, king of the Lombards.
After unsuccessful embassies to Aistulf himself and appeals
to the emperor Constantino, he, though in feeble health,
set out to seek the aid of Pippin, by whom he was received
in the neighbourhood of Vitry lo Brule in the beginning
of 754. He spent the greater part of that year at St
Denis. The result of his negotiations was the Frankish
invasion of Aistulf's territory and the famous " donation "
of Pippin (see Popedom, vol. xix. p. 493 ; and compare
Fkance, vol. ix. p. 531). The death of Stephen took
place not long after that of Aistulf. He was succeeded
by Paul I.
STEPHEN III, pope from August 1, 768 to January
24, 772, was a native of Sicily, and, having come to
Rome during the pontificate of Gregory III., gradually
rose to high office in the service of successive popes. On
the deposition of Constantine II., Stephen was chosen to
succeed him. Fragmentary records are preserved of the
council (April 769) at which the degradation of Con-
stantine was completed, certain new arrangements for
papal elections made, and the practice of image-worship
confirmed. The politics of Stephen's reign are obscure,
but he inclined to the Lombard rather than to the Frankish
alliance. He was succeeded by Adrian I.
STEPHEN IV., pope from June 816 to January 817,
succeeded Leo III., whose policy he continued. Immedi-
ately after his consecration he ordered the Roman people
to swear fidelity to Louis the Piou.s, to whom he found
it prudent to betake himself personally in the following
August. After the coronation of Louis at Rheims in
October he returned to Rome, where he died in the
beginning of the following year. His successor was
Paschal I.
STEPHEN v., pope from 885 to 891, succeeded Adrian
III., and was in turn succeeded by Formosus. In his
dealings with ConstantinDple in the matter of Photius, as
also in his relations with the young Slavonic church, he
pursued the policy of Nicholas I. His pontificate was
otherwise unimportant.
STEPHEN VI., pope from May 896 to July-August
897, succeeded Boniface VI., and was in turn followed by
Komanus. He is remembered only in connexion with his
conduct towards the remains of Formosus, his last pre-
decessor but one (see Foemosds). It excited a tumult,
which ended in his imprisonment and his death by strang-
ling.
STEPHEN VIL (February 929 to March 931) and
STEPHEN Vin. (July 939 to October 942) were virtually
nonentities, who held the pontificate during the .so-called
" pornocracy " of Theodora and Marozia (see Eojie, vol.
XX. p. 787-8).
STEPHEN IX., pope from August 1057 to March
1058, succeeded Victor II. (Gcbhard of Eichstadt). His
baptismal name was Frederick, and he was a younger
brother of Godfrey, duko of Upper Lorraine, who, as
marquis of Tuscany (by his marriage with Beatrice, widow
of Boniface, marquis of Tu.scany), played a prominent part
in the politics of the period. Frederick, who had been
raised to the cardinalate by Loo IX., discharged for some
time the functions of papal legato at Constantinople, and
was with Leo in his uijucky expedition against the
Normans. Ho shared the vicissitudes of his brother's
fortunes, and at one time had to take refuge from Henry
III. in Monte Cassino. Five days after the death of
Victor II. (who had made him cardinal-priest and abbot
of Monte Cassino), ho was chosen to succeed him. Ho
shewed great zeal in enforcing the llildcbrandino policy
OS to clerical celibacy, and was planning largo schcniesr kn- i
tho uxpulsion of tlu Normans from Italy, uud tho olova- |
tion of his brotuer to tho imperial throne, when Iw Vas
seized by a severe illness, from which he onl) partially
and temporarily recovered, do died at Florence March
29, 1058, and was succeeded by Benedict X.
STEPHEN (1105-1154), king of England, the second
son of Stephen, carl of Blois, and Adela, daughter of
William the Conqueror, was born at Blois in 1105. Ho
obtained the county of Mortain by the gift of his undo
Henry I. and that of Boulogne by marriage with Jiaud,
daughter of Count Eustace. As one of the chief barons of
Normandy he had sworn to aid in securing the succession
to the crown of England for his cousin the empress
Matilda and her infant son, afterwards Henry II. Never-
theless, on the death of Henry I. in 1135, Stephen it onco
crossed over to England, and was welcomed by the citizcn.s
of London as king. Aided by his brother Henrj-, bishop
of Winchester, and the justiciar. Bishop Roger of Salis-
bury, he made himself master of the royal treasure,- and
was formally elected and crowned on St Stephen's day,
December 26. 1135. In a brief charter issued at the time
of his coronation he promised to observe the laws and
liberties of the land. A fuller charter, the second of out
great charters of liberties, was is.suod early in 1136. In
this document, which was based on that of Henry I., each
of tho three estates came in for its .share of promises, but
the leading position of the church and the importance
of the aid which it gave the king are shown by the pre-
dominant attention paid to ecclesiastical privileges. So
far all seemed going well, but the troubles of the reign
soon began. A false report of Stephen's death in the
summer of 1136 caused revolts to break out in tho east
and west of England. Roger Bigot seized Norwich, and
Baldwin of Redvers occupied Exeter. Stephen, wlio
possessed considerable military skill, speedily put dowil
these vpKpllions, but the outbreak showed the lightness of
the feudal bond and tho defectiveness of Stephen's title.
In 1137 he crossed over into Normandy to defend his
dominions there from Geoffrey of Anjou, and was success-
ful enough to makp a satisfactory peace, but he returned
to find England aflame A mysterious conspiracy was
hatched in the diocese of Ely, where the fenlands may
have still concealed some remnants of the opposition to
Stephen's grandfather. David, king of Scotland, who had
already taken up arms on behalf of his niece Matilda, but
had been bought off by the surrender of Carlisle, marched
an army into England and advanced as far as York.shire.
Robert, earl of Gloucester, the strongest of the English
nobles, raised the standard of icbdiiun at Bristol. Against
these numerous enemies Stephen contrived at first to make
head. Tho conspiracy at Ely was nipj.ed in the bud ; tho
Scotch inva.,ion' was checked in the battle of the Standard,
near Northallerton, in 1138, and even against Robert of
Gloucester Stephen won some success. But his own
weakness and folly proved his ruin. In order to conciliate
the barons who remained true to him, he allowed them to
build castles, each of which became a centre of petty but
intolerable tyranny. Instead of relying on the support of
his English subjects, Stephen surrounded himself with a
body of foreign mercenaries, who pillaged all alike. He
granted earldoms at random, thereby splitting up tho
royal authority and diminisliing tho royal revenues.
Lastly, — and this was the worst mistake of all, — ho broke
with the church, and especially with the great family of
Bishop Roger, who had tho administrative machinery in
their hands. On tho ground that they had no right to
fortify their castles ho arrested tho bishops of Lincoln'
and Salisbury, together with Roger tho chancellor, son of
tho latter. Ho thus enforced the surrender of the rtiMlcs.-
but tho church, with tho now archbishop, Theobald, anJ
Stephen's brother, Henry of Winchester, now legato, ot its
534
S T E — S T E
tead, declared against him. Henry called a council, laid
formal charges against the king, and threatened to appeal
to Rome. In the midst of this crisis Matilda and her
half-brother, Robert of Gloucester, landed in the south of
England, and a civil war began. From this time forward,
for fourteen dismal years, the land knew no peace. It is
needless to go into details. Neither party was strong
enough to deal a final blow at the other. The nobility
changed sides as they pleased, fighting generally for their
own interests or for plunder; bands of freebooters wandered
up and down the country ; upwards of a thousand castles,
each of which was a den of robbers, were erected; the
church found threats and persuasion equally ineffective to
restore peace and order. " Men said openly," we are told
by the chronicler, " that Christ and His saints slept." At
the battle of Lincoln in 1141 Stephen was taken prisoner.
After this Matilda was elected queen, but she soon forfeited
the allegiance of her supporters. The Londoners revolted,
the empress fled to Oxford, and the earl of Gloucester was
taken prisoner. He was exchanged for Stephen, and
matters went on as before. About 1147 there came a
change. Matilda left the country, and her son Henry took
the lead. His predominance was further secured by the
death of Robert of Gloucester in 1148. Three years later
Henry became count of Anjou on the death of his father,
while his marriage with Eleanor of Aquitaine made him
one of the most powerful princes in Europe. This great
accession of strength enabled him to meet Stephen on
more than equal terms, and Stephen on the death of his
eon Eustace was more inclined to peace. In November
1153 the treaty of Wallingford brought the long struggle
to an end. It was agreed tha*; Stephen should reign till
his death, and that Hen/y stiould succeed him. A scheme
of reform was drawn up,, which Stephen endeavoured,
during the 'short remainder of his reign, to carry out. He
died on October 25, 1154. A brave man, a good soldier,
merciful and generous, but devoid of moral strength and
political insight, he was utterly incapable to discharge a
task which demanded all the skill and energy of his great
Buccessor. His nominal reign was a period of anarchy in
Figlish history, important only as a full justification for
the tyrannies of Henry I. and Henry 11.
Aulhorilies.—OTiericas Vitalis, ed. Le Prevost; 'William of
Malme'sbury, ed. Hamilton (Rolls Series) ; Gfsla Stephani, ed.
Sewell (Engl. Hist. Soc); Gervase of Canterbury, ed. Stubbs
(Rolls Series); Henry of Huntingdon, ed..Aruold (Rolls Series);
English Chronicle, ed. Thorpe (Rolls Series); Freeman, Norman
Conquest, vol. v. ; Lappenberg, Gcsch. Engla7ids,ro\. iii. (G. 'W. P.)
STEPHEN, Sir James (1789-1859), historian, was the
son of James Stephen, master in chancery, author of The
Slaver?/ of the West India Colonies and other works, and
was born in London 3d .January 1789. He was educated
at Trinity Hall, Cambridge, graduating B.A. in 1812, after
which he studied for the bar and was called at Lincoln's
Inn. He obtained an extensive practice as a chancery
barrister, being ultimately counsel to the colonial depart-
ment and counsel to the Board of Trade. In 1834 he be-
came assistant under-secretary for the colonies, and shortly
afterwards permanent under-secretary. On his retirement
in 1847 he was made a knight commander of the Bath.
In 1849 he was appointed regius professor of modern
history in the university of Cambridge, having already
distinguished himself by his brilliant studies in ecclesi-
astical biography' contributed to the Edinburgh Review,
which were published that year under the ■ title Essays in
Ecclesiastical Biography and Other Subjects ; a 4th edition,
with a short memoir, appenred in 1860. He was also the
author of Lectures on the History of France, 2 vols., 1851,
3d ed. 1857, and Desultory and Systematic Beading, a
'ecture, 1853. He died at Coblentz on the 15th of
September 1859.
STEPHENS, the incorrect English form of the name of
Estienne, the distinguished French family of scholars and
printers.
The founder of the race was Henri Estienne (d. 1520),
the scion of a noble family of Provence, who came to Paris
in 1502, and soon afterwards set up a printing establish-
ment at the top of the Rue St Jean de Beauvais, on the
hill of Sainte-Genevieve opposite the law school. He died
in 1520, and, his three sons being minors, the business was
carried on by his foreman Simon de Colines, who in 1521
married his widow.
Robert Estienne (1503-1559) was Henri's second son.
After his father's death he acted as assistant to his step-
father, and in this capacity superintended the printing of a
Latin edition of the New Testament in 1 6mo (1 523). Some
slight alterations which he had introduced into the text
brought upon him the censures of the faculty of theology.
It was the first of a long series of disputes between him and
that body. It appears that he had intimate relations with
the new Evangelical preachers almost from the beginning of
the movement, and that soon after this time he definitely
joined the Reformed Church. In 1526 he entered into pos-
session of his father's printing establishment, and adopted as
his device the celebrated olive-tree (a reminiscence doubtless
of his grandmother's family of Montolivet), with the motto
from the epistle to the Romans (xi. 20), 2Colialtvm sapere,
sometimes with the additionsfrf time. In 1528 he married
Perrette, a daughter of the scholar, and printer Josse Bade
(Jodocus Badius), and in the same year he published his
first Latin Bible, an edition in folio, upon which he had
been at work for the last four years. In 1532 appeared
his Thesaurus Linguee Laiinx, a dictionary of Latin words
and phrases, upon which for two years he had toiled
incessantly, with no other assistance than that of Thierry
of Beauvais. A second edition, greatly enlarged and
improved, appeared in 1536, and a ■ third, still further
improved, in 3 vols, folio, in 1543. Though the Thesaurui
is now superseded, its merits must not be forgotten. It
was vastly superior to anything of the kindVhat had ap-
peared before ; it formed the basis of future labours, and
even as late as 1734 was considered worthy of being re-
edited. In 1539 Robert was appointed king's printer for
Hebrew and Latin, an office to which, after the death of
Conrad Neobar in 1540, he united that of king's printer
for Greek. In 1541 he was entrusted by Francis L with
the task of procuring from Claude Garamond, the engraver
and type-founder, three sets of Greek tj-pe for the royal
press. The middle size were the first ready, and with
these Robert printed the editio princeps of the Ecclesiastics
Historix of Eusebius and others (1544). The smallest
size were first used for the 16mo edition of the New Tes-
tament known as the 0 mirijicam (1546), while with the
largest size was printed the magnificent folio of 1550.
This edition involved the printer in fresh disputes with the
faculty of theology, and towards the end of the following
year he left his native town for ever, and took refuge at
Geneva, where he published in 1552 a caustic and effec-
tive answer to his persecutors, under the title Ad Censurar
Theologorum Parisiensium, quibus Biblia a R. Stephano.
Typographo Eegio, excusa calumniose notarunt, eiusdem R
S. Responsio. A French translation, which is remarkable
for the excellence of its style, was published by him in the
same year (printed in R^nouard's Annates de I'lmprimerit
des Estienne). At Geneva Robert proved himself an ardent
partisan of Calvin, several of whose works he published.
He died there September 7, 1559.
It is by his work in conne.xion with the Bible, and especially as
an editor of the New Testament, that he is on the whole best known
The text of his New Testament of 1550, either in its original forrr
or in such slightly modified form as it assumed in the Elzevir text
of 1634. remains to this day the traditional text. V.\'*, ,is inodc'v.
STEPHENS
535
scliolars li.ivc pointed t/ut, this is duo rather to its typographical
beauty than to any critical merit. The readings of the lifteen JISS.
«-liich Robert's son Henri had collated for the purpose were merely
introduced iuto the margin. The text was still almost exactly th.it
o! Erasmus. It was, however, the first edition ever published with
n critical apparatus of any sort. Of tlie whole Bible Kobcrt printed
;leveu editions, — eight in Latin, two in Hebrew, and one in French ;
while of the New Testament alone he printed twelve, — five in Greek,
five in Latin, and two in French. In the Greek New Testament
of 1661 (printed at Geneva) the present division jutuveises was
introduced for the first time. The ediium*$ principcs which i.isuea
from Robert's press were eight in number, viz., Euschiii.i, includ-
ing the Prxparatio Evangclica and the Demonslralio £v(t>igcl ica
as well as the Historia Ecdesiastica already mentioned (1544-46),
Moschopuliis (1545), Dionijsius of Halicarnassxts (February 1547),
Alexander Tralliantts {January 154S), Dio Cassius (January 1548),
Justin, Martyr (1551), Xiphilimis (1551), Appian (1551), the last
belli" completed, Bfter'Rubcrt's departure ft-oin Paris, b^ his brother
Charles, and appearing under his name. These editions, all in
folio, except the Moschopuliis, which ia in 4to, art anrivdlkd f'l
beauty. Robert also printed numerous editions of Latin classics,
of which perhaps the folio Virgil of 1532 is the most noteworthy,
and a large quantity of Latin grammars and ->*Ler educational
works (many of them written by his friend Maturin Oordier) in
the interests of that cause of which he proved hiuiseil so stout
b champion, — the new learning.
Cha-Rles E8riKN>rs (l.'iOi or lfiO'i-1.564\ the third son
of Henri, was, like his brother Kobert, a man of con-
siderable learning. After the usual humanistic training
he studied medicine, and became a doctor of that faculty
in the university of Paris. In 1540 he accompanied the
French ambassador Lazare Baif to Italy in the capacity
of tutor to his natural son Antoine, the future poet. In
1551, when Kobert Estienne left Paris for CJeneva, Charles,
who had remained a Catholic, took charge of hL« printing
jstablishment, and in the same year was appointed king's
printer. He died in 1564, according to some accounts in
prison, having been thrown there for debt.
His principal works are Prscdium Rusticum, a collection of tracts
yhich he hatl compiled from ancient writers on various biaui-Les
of agriculture, and which continued to be a favourite book down to
the end of the 17tli century ; Dictionarium Historicum ac Poelicum
(1553), the first French encyHopspdiaj Thesaurus Ciccronianus ;
and Paradoxes, a free version of the Paradossi of Ortensio Landi,
with the omission of a few of the paradoxes and of the impious and
indecent passages (Paris, 1553; Poitiers, 1553). He was also the
author of a treatise on anatomy and of several small educational
works.
Henri Estienne (1528-1598), sometimes called "Henri
rr.,'' was the eldest son of Robert. In the preface m his
edition of Aulus Gellius dSSSX addres-wd to his son Paul,
he gives an interesting account of his father's household, in
which, owing to the various nationalities of those who were
employed on the pres.s, Latin was used as a common lan-
guage, being understood and spoken more or less by pvery
member of it, down to the maid-servants. Henri thus picked
upi Latin as a child, but at his special request ho was allowed
to learn Greek as a scriou.i study before Latin At the
age of fifteen ho became a pupil of Pierre Daniis, at that
time the first Greek scholar in France. Two years later he
'Degan to attend the lectureB of Jacques Touaaain, ono of
the royal professors of (Jreek, and in the same year (1545)
was employed by his father to collate a MS. of Dionysius
of Halicarnassua. In 1547. after attending for a time the
/ectures of Turn&be, Toussain's successor, he went to Italy,
where he spent two years in hunting for and collating
MSS. and in intercounso with learned men. In 1550
lie was in England, where ho was favourably received by
J'idward VI. Thence he wont to Flanders, where ho learnt
Spanish. In 1551 he joined his father at Geneva, which
henceforth became his home. In 1554 he gave to the
world, as the firstfruits of his researches, two first editions,
viz., a tract of Dionysius of Halicarnassus and ATiac.rr.on,
both printed by his uncle Charles. In 155G Henri was
again in Italy, where ho discovered at Kome ten now
books (xi.-xx.) of iJiodorus Siculus. In 1557 he issued
from the press which in the previous year he had set up oo
his own account at Geneva three first editions, viz., AtheniM
fforas, Maxinnis Ti/rius, and some fragments af Greek hi*
torians, including Appian's 'AiTt/JoXi/oJ and 'Iftijptio], and
an edition of ./Eschylus, in which for the first time the J<;(x
memnon was printed in entiretj' and as a separate play. lo
1558 ho was appointed printer to Huldrich Fugger, one ol
the celebrated family of Augsburg bankers, a post which h%
held lor ten years. In 1559 he printed a Latin translaj
tion from his own pen of Sextus Empiricus, and an edition
of Diodorus Siculus with the new books. In 1566 h4
published his best known French work, the Apologie pout
Herochle, or, as ho himself called it, L' Introduction afl
Traits de la Conformite des Merveilles Anciennes avec let
Blodemes ou Traite preparatif d, U Apologie pour Herodoity
Rome j.aH-o.ngos in the original eaicioa t)eing considered
objectionable by the Gene\a consistory, ho was compelled
to cancel the pages containing them. The book becama
highly popular. Within sixteen yeais twelve editions wer«
printed. In 1572 Henri published the great work upon
which he had been labouring for many years, thi. The-
saurus Grxcx Lingux, in 5 vols, folio. The publication
in 1.^76 or his Dialogues du nouveau Francois J' niti
brought him into a fresh dispute with the consistor To
avoid their censure he went to Paris, and resided at tTio
French court lor the whole of 1579. On his return td
Geneva lu the spring of 1580 .he was summoned before
the consistory, and, proving contumacious, was imprisoned
for a week. From this time his life became mere and
more of a nomad one. He is to be found at BasefJ
Heidelberg, Vienna, Pesth, everywhere but at Geneva,'
thp«o joiimpys being undertaken partly in the hope -of
procuring patrons and purchasers for his books (for the
large sums which he had spent on such publications as the
Thesaurus and the Plato of 1578 had alrnost ruined him),
partly from the increasing restlessness of his disposition.
But the result of these long absences was that his press
stood nearly at a standstill. A few editions of classical
authors were brought out, but each successive c.e showed
a falling off. Such value as the later ones had \ras chiefly
due to the notes furnished by Casaubon, who in 1586 liad
married Henri's daughter Florence. Henri's last years were
marked by cver-increasing infirmity of mind and temper.
In 1597 he left Geneva for the last time. After visiting
Montpellier, where Casaubon was now professor, 1 e made foi
Paris, but was seized with sudden illness at LyonR. and died
there in his seventieth year, at the end of January 1598.
Few men have ever served the cause of learning mort devotedly.
For over thirty years the amount which ho produced, whether as
printer, editor, or original writer, was enormous. The productinns
of his press, though primed wiih the same Deautnui type as his
father's books, arc, owing to the poornefB of tho paper ami ink, inferior
r.o them in gonern I hcauty. The best, perhaps, from a tipographical
point of view, are the Poelm Grxci Principes (folio, 1566), tne Plutarch
(13 vols. 8yo, 1572), and the Plato (3 vols, folio, 1573).' It was rather
Ileuri Eitienne's scholarship which gave value to his editions. Ho
was not only his own press-corrector but his own editor. Though
by the latter half of tho 16th century nearly all 'tho important
Greek and Latin authors that wo now possess had been published,
his untiring activity still found somo gleanings. Eighteen first
editions of Greek authors and one of a Latin autho.r arc duo to his
press. Theniost important have been already mer.tioued. Henri's
reputation as a scholar and editor has increased of late years. His
familiarity with tho Greek language has alw,ays been admitted to
have beeu quite exceptional ; but ho has been accused of want of
taste and juilgment, of carelessness and rashness. Special censuro
has been passed ou his Plutarch, in which he is said to have iutro-
du-'ed conjectures of his own into tho text, w'flilo pretending to havo
derived lliem from MS. authority. But a recent editor, ^intenis,
has shown that, though like all tho other editors of his day h« did
not give references to his authorities, every one of his supposed
conjectures can bo traced to somo MS. \Vhatover may bo said
as to his tasto or his judgment, it geems that ho was both careful
and scrupulous, and that ho only resorted to coujccturo when
authority failed him. And, whatever the merit of bis coujcoturo^
536
STEPHENS
he was at any rate the first to sliow what coajccture could rto
to\>'av(l« y^tniiug a liopelessly corrupt passage. The work, how-
ever, ou which ills fame as a scholar is most surely based is the
Thcsaunis Gi\%cx Liiigux. After making due allowance for the
fact that considerable matuviala f n' th» work had bceu already
collcci.cd '>y b.is ti*li.'r. an i tb.at he received considerable assistance
from th? 0.:'<'ma'\ •^cbol'''' ^y'bn'-j^^ ho 'i st'll entitled to the very
highest praise as the producer of a work which was of the greatest
service to scholarship and which in those early days of Greek
learning vo;iU have Iwc" pr'^dnced by no one but a giant. Two
editions of the Thesaurus have been published in this century — at
London by A'alpy (1815-25) and at Paris by Didot (1S31-63). It
was one of Henri Estienne's great merits that, unlike nearly all the
French scholars who preceded him, he did not neglect his own lan-
guage. While Bude wrote French with difficulty and considered
ft hardly a fit language for a scholar to use, Henri Estienne was
loud in its praises and gave practical proof of its capabilities.
Of his French writings three were devoted to this theme : — (1)
ConformiU du Langagc Frani;ois avcc le Grer. (published in 1575,
but without Ute, ed. L. reugere, ISSn), in which French is shown
to have, among modern languages, the most affinity with Greek,
the first of all languages ; (2) Deux Dialogues du noumau Franpis
Italianizi (Geneva, 1578 ; reprinted, 2 vols., 1883), directed against
the fashion prevailing in the court of Catherine de' Medici of using
Italian words and forms ; (3) Project du Livre IntiluU dc la Pre-
tcllcnce du Langage Fran<;ois (Paris, 1579 ; ed. Feugere, 1853), which
treats of the superiority of French to Italian. An interesting
feature of this tract is the account of French proverbs, and, Henry
III. having expressed some doubts as to the genuineness of some of
them, Henri Estienne published, in 1594, (4) Lcs Premiccs ou Ic I.
time des Provcrbcs Epigrammatizcz (never reprinted and very rare).
Finally, there remains (5) the Apologie pour Herodolc, the work by
virtue of which Henri Estienne belongs to literature. The ostensible
object of the book is to show that the strange stories in Herodotus
may be paralleled by equally strange ones of modern times.
Virtually it is a bitter satire on the writer's age, especially on the
Roman Church. Put together without any method, its extreme
desultoriness makes it difficult to read continuously, but the numer-
ous stories, collected partly from various literary sources, notably
from the preachers Menot and Maillard, partly from the writer's
own multifarious experience, with which it is packed, make it an
interesting commentary on the manners and fashions of the time.
But satire, to be effective, should be either humorous or righteously
indignant, and, while such humour as there is in the Apologie is
decidedly heavy, the writer's indignation is generally forgotten
in his evident relish for scandal. The style is, after all, its chief
merit. Though it bears evident traces of hurry, it is, like that of
all Henri Estienne's French writings, clear, easy, and vigorous,
uniting the directness and sensuousness of the older writers with
a suppleness and logical precision which at this time were almost
new elements in French prose. An edition of the Apologie has
recently been published by Liseux (ed. Ristelhuber, 2 vols., 1879),
after one of the only two copies of the original uncancelled edition
that are known to exist. The very remarkable political pamphlet en-
titled Discours Merveilleux de la Vie et 'des Diportements de Catherine
de Uedieis, which appeared in 1574, has been ascribed to Henri
Estienne, but the evidence both internal and external is conclusive
against his being the author of it. Of his Latin writings the most
worthy of notice are the De Latinitate /also suspecta (1576), the
Pseudo-Ciecro (1577), and the Mzoliodidascabis (1578), all three
written against the Ciceronians, and the Franco/ordiense Emporium
(1574), a panegyric on the Frankfort fair (reprinted with a French
translation by Liseux, 1875). He also 'wrote a large quantity of
indifferent Latin verses, including a long poem entitled Musa
Monitrix Principum (Basel, 1590).
Tlie primary authorities for an account of the Estiennes are their own works.
In tlie gaiTUious and egotistical prefaces which Henri was in the habit of pre-
fixint; to his editions will be found many scattered biographical details. Tw-enty-
Beven letters from Henri to John of Crafftheim (Crato) (ed. F. Passow, 1830) have
been printed, and there is one of Robert's in Herminjard's Correspondance des
liiforinateurs dans les Pays de Langue Frangaise (7 vols, published), while a few
other contemporary- refci-ences to him will be found in the same work. The
secondary autliorities are Janssen van Almeloveen, De Vilis Stephanorum (Arast.,
lCS-3) ; Maittaire, Stephanorum Historia (Lond., 1709) ; A. A. R^nouard, Annales
de I' Impriiiterie des Estienne (2d ed., Paris, 1843); the article on Estienne by A. F.
Didot in tlie Nouv. Biog. Gen. ; and an article by Mark Pattison in the Qimrl. Rev.
for April 1865. There is a good account of Henri's Thesaurus in the Quart. Rev.
{ok January 1820, written by Bishop Blomfield. (A. A. T.)
STEPHENS, Alexander Hamilton (1812-1883),
American statesman, ■was bc:-n in Georgia, February 11,
1812. In spite of many difficulties imposed by povertj
md ill-bealth, he became a lawj'er and politician of great
reputation and popularity. He was one of the Whig
leaders of his State until about 1850, and then drifted
into the Democratic party through the rising discussions
of slavery, serving in Congress from 1843 until 1859.
,In 1860 he opposed secessicn warmly ; but when his State
had seceded he " followed his State," and ■was elected vice-
president of the Coufederate States. Whatever there was
of opposition to the despotic tendencies of Jefferson Davis
gathered around Stephens as a centre ; and the vice-iwe-
sident vcas never an influential member of the Confederate
administration. His popularity in Georgia was unbounded,
and he was elected representative in Congress in 1877-82,
and governor, 1882-83, dj-ing in office. In person he
was small and extremely emaciated, seldom weighing more
than 90 pounds, and alwaj's in delicate health ; but his
powers as an orator ■were remarkable.
Cleveland's A. H. Stephens in Public and Private and Johnston
and Browne's Life of A. H. Stephais are the main authorities for
Stephens's life. His political opinions are fully given in his ■work.
The IVar between the States.
STEPHENS, John Lloto (1805-1852), traveller, -was
born 28th November 1805, at Shrewsbury, N.J., United
States. Having been admitted to the bar, he practised
his profession for about eight years in New York city.
In 1834, the state of his health rendering it advisable that
he should travel, he visited Europe, and for two years
made a tour through many countries of that continent,
extending his travels to Egypt and Syria. On his return
to New York he published (under the name of "George"
Stephens) in 1837 Incidents of Travel in Egypt, Arabia
Petreea, atid the Holy Land. This work 'was followed
next year by the publication, also in two volumes, of
Incidents of Travel in Greece, Turkey, Russia, and Poland.
In 1839 Stephens arranged with Frederick Catherwood
of London, ■who had accompanied him on some of his
travels, and illustrated the above-mentioned publications,
that they should make an exploration together in Central
America, with a view to discovering and examining
ancient art said to exist in the dense forests of that
tropical region. Stephens, meantime, ■was appointed
United States minister to Central America. The joint
travels of Stephens and F. Catherwood occupied some
eight months in 1839 and 1840. As the result of these
researches Stephens published in 1841 Incidents of Travels
in Central America, Chiapas, and Yucatan. In the
autumn of 1841 the two travellers made a second explora-
tion of Yucatan, the fruits of which ■were gathered up in
a work published by Stephens in 1843, — Incidents of
Travel in Yucatan. This work describes the most exten-
sive travels executed till that date by a stranger in the
peninsula, and, as the author claims, " contains account of
visits to forty-four ruined cities or places in which remains
or vestiges of ancient populations were found." It fixed
the sites of many prehistoric cities and supplied correct
delineations of their existing monuments. 'This publica-
tion enjoyed a wide popularity, and made such an impres-
sion on Prescott the historian that he urged Stephens to
prosecute his researches of American antiquities in Peru.
Stephens was, however, disinclined to so distant an expedi-
tion. He became a director of the newly-formed Arnerican
Ocean Steam Navigation Company, ■which established the
first American Hne of trans- Atlantic steamships. He visited
Panama to reconnoitre the ground with a view to the
construction of a railway across the isthmus, and, first as
vice-president and then as president of the Panama Rail-
way Company, spent the greater part of two years in
superintending the project. His health was, however,
entirely undermined by his. long and incautious exposure
to the deadly climate of Central America, and he died at
New York on the 10th October 1852.
Stephens made no pretensions to the title of a scientific
traveller. He had, however, a natural curiosity after all
kinds of human knowledge^ shrewd and accurate powers
of observation, and a more than common measure of per
severance, tact, and resource.
S T E — S T E
537
STEPHENSON, GEoncn (17Sl-18tS), perfccter of the
locomotive, was the son of Kobert Stephenson, fireman of
a colliery engine at AVylam, near Newcastle, where ho
was born 9th June 1781. In boyhood he was employed
as a cowherd, and occupied his leisure in erecting clay
engines and similar mechanical amusements. Afterwards
he drove the ginhorse at a colliery, and in his fourteenth
year became assistant to his father in firing the engine at
a shilling a day. He set himself diligently to qualify
himself for higher duties, and in his seventeenth year was
appointed enginenian or plugman. As yet he was unable
to read, but, stimulated by the desire to obtain fuller
information regarding the wonderful inventions of Boulton
and Watt, he began in his eighteenth year to attend a
night school, and soon made remarkably rapid progress.
In 1801 he obtained the situation of brakesman, and in
1812 was appointed engine-wright at Killingworth high
pit at a salary of £100 a year. Meantime he had been
employing his leisure in watch and clock cleaning, in
studjnng mechanics, and in various experiments with a
view of solving the difficulties connected with the con-
struction of a satisfactory locomotive. Having obtained
permission from Lord Ravensworth, the principal partner
of the Killingworth colliery to incur the outlay for con-
structing a " travelling engine " for the tramroads between
ihe colliery and the shipping port nine miles distant, he
made a successful trial with the engine, which he named
"My Lord," 25th July 1814. Setting himself diligently
to improve his invention, he thoroughly satisfied himself
that for the proper success of the locomotive a railway as
nearly as possible level was an essential condition. In
1822 he succeeded in impressing with the importance of
his invention the projectors of the Stockton and Darlington
Railway, who had contemplated using horses for their
waggons, and was appointed engineer of the railway, with
liberty to carry out his own plans, the result being the
opening, 27th September 1825, of the first railway over
which passeD,<5ers and goods were carried by a locomotive.
The success of the Stockton and Darlington Railway led to
the employment of Stephenson in the construction of the
Liverpool and Manchester Railway, which, notwithstanding
prognostications of failure by the most eminent engineers
nf the day, he carried successfully through Chat Moss.
Ho also succeeded in persuading the directors to give the
locomotive a trial, and, as his improved invention, the
" Rocket," during her trial trip made 29 miles an hour,
his suggestion met with complete approval ; with the
opening of the line, 15th September 1830, the modern era
of railways may be said to have been definitely inaug-
urr.ted. While his experiments in connexion with loco-
motives were in progress, the construction of a safety lamp
for use in mines occupied much of his attention. There
can be no doubt regarding the justice of his claims to be
con,«dered the first inventor of the tube safety lamp, not-
witiistanding that the name of Sir Humphry Davy has
been chiefiy associated with the discovery. In recognition
cf the " valuable service ho had thus rendered to man-
kind," subscriptions were in 1815 collected in behalf of
Stephenson which amounted to £1000, a sum which ho
found of great convenience in connexion with his locomo-
tive experiments. Stephenson was closely connected with
the more important of the railway projects which the
success of the Liverpool and Manchester lino called into
existence, but he strongly disapproved of the railway mania
which ensued, and predicted that only ruin could result
from the prevalent disposition towards railway speculation.
Ho was frequently consulted in regard to the construction
of foreign railways, and in this connexion visited Belgium
and Spain in 1 845. Towards the close of his life he retired
from active duties, and at his residence at Tupton Hou.se,
^2- LM)*
Chesterfield, interested himself chiefly in farming andl
horticultural pursuits. He died 12th August 1848.
Sec Sioi-i) / ihi- Life of George SlcpJicmoii, by Samuel Smiles,,
1857, ncwed. 1873 ; and Smiles's Lives of British Engineers, vol. iiL'
STEPHENSON, Robert (1803-1859), e'ngineer, son of
the preceding by his first wife fanny Henderson, was born"
at Willington Quay, 16th October 1S03. Remembering
his own early difficulties owing to deficient instruction, his
father bestowed special care on his education, sending him
in his twelfth year to attend Mr Bruce's school in Percy'
Street. Newcastle, where he remained about four years..
In 1819 he was apprenticed to acoalviewerat Killingworth
to learn the business of the colliery, after which, to perfect
his training in technical science, he was sent in 1822 to
attend the science classes at the university of Edinburgh.
On his return he assisted his father in the survey of
various railway lines, but in 1824 he accepted an engage-
ment to take charge of the engineering operations of tha
Columbian Mining Association of London. On account
of the harassing difficulties of the situatiim he resigned it
in 1827, and after his return to England undertook the
management of his father's factory in Newcastle, greatly
aiding him in the improvement of his locomotives, the
result being the construction of the "Rocket," which
firmly established the practicability of steam locomotion
on railways. Subsequently his services were in great
request as a railway engineer, and after the retirement of
his father he was regarded as the chief authority on the
subject. In this connexion his most remarkable achieve-
ments were his railway viaducts on the tubular system,
constructed with the aid of the practical knowledge of Sir
William Fairbairn, and justly characterized as " the
greatest discovery in construction in our day." Among
his more notable bridges are the Royal Border bridge at
Berwick-on-Tweed, the high-level bridge at Newcastle-on-
Tyne, the Britannia tubular bridge over the Menai Straits,
the Conway tubular bridge, and the Victoria tubular
bridge over the St Lawrence, Canada. In 1847 he
entered the House of Commons as member for Whitby.
He was frequently consulted in the construction of foreign
railways, and was decorated for his services by the king
of Belgium, the king of Sweden, and the emperor of the
French. In 1855 he was elected president of the Institute
of Civil Engineers. He died 12th October 1859, and waa
buried in Westminster Abbey.
Sco The Story of the Life of George Stcplicnson, inchiiling a
Memoir of his Son fiobert Stephenson, by Samuel Smiles, 1857, now
ed. 1873; JeafTreson, Life of liobert Stephenson, 2 vols., 1864; and
Smile.s*s Lives of British Engineers, vol. iii.
STEREOCHROMY. See Silica.
STEREOSCOPE is an optical instrument for repre-
senting in apparent relief and solidity all natural objects
by uniting into one imago two representations of these
objects as seen by each eye separately. That the two eyes
form different images of any objects which are near enough
to have dissimilar perspective projections has been lonj;
known, and may be readily tested by any one. Euclid
proved it geometrically with reference to a sphere (2Gth,
27th, and 28th theorems of his Treatise on 0/ilics) ; Galon,
showed how the demonstration might bo made.' Pouta:
(f/.v.), in his work on Refractioji, also writes on the subject,'
and Leonardo da Vinci adduced tlio Avant of correspond-
ence between tho parts of the background intercepted by
a near object seen by tho two eyes singly " as tho reason
why no ])ainting- can show a rilieuo equal to that of
natural objects seen by both eyes within a niodcrato
distance." 2 In 1G13 Aguilonius, a Jesuit, in his work on
Optics, attributed tho union of tho two unlike pictures into
' J)e Csu Partium, Corporis Itiimani, Lyons, 1560, p. 693.
' TTii'\a delta Pictura, Scullurtc, ed Archiletliira, Mil.in, IPS*
538
STEREOSCUJ-i.
a clear image to a "common sense" ■which gave its aid
equally to each eye, — this common sense being specially
exerted when the object is placed much nearer to one eye
than to the other, so that the sizes as well as the forms of
the two retinal pictures are sensibly different. The sub-
ject was merely touched by various other writers after
Aguilonius until 1775, ■when Harris' observes : "We have
other helps for distinguishing prominences cf small parts
besides those by ■which ■we distinguish distances in general,
as to their degrees of light and shads, and the prospect we
have round them. Again, by the piirallax, on account of
the distance betwixt our eyes, ■we can distinguish, besides
the front part, the two sides of a near object not thicker
than the said distance, and this gives a visible rilievo to
such objects, -which helps greatly to raise or detach
them .from the plane in which they lie. Thus the nose
on a face is the more remarkably raised by our seeing
.both sides of it at once." This -vN-as undoubtedly a con-
siderable step towards a sound theory of binocular vision,
but it cannot be said to have anticipated the invention of
the stereoscope. This instrument owes its origin entirely
to the experimental researches of Sir Charles AVheatstone
on binocular vision, and the following passage from
Mayo's Outlines of Human Physiology, p. 288, published
in 1833, is the first clear enunciation of the principle on
which it is constructed : — "A solid object, being so placed
as to be regarded by both eyes, projects a different per-
spective figure on each retina ; now if these two perspect-
ives be actually copied on paper, and presented one to each
eye, so as to fall on corresponding parts, the original solid
figure will be apparently reproduced in such a manner that
no effort of the imagination can make it appear as a
representation on a plane surface." iSir Charles Wheat-
stone's "Contributions to the Physiology of Vision, Part
the First " appeared in the Pkilosopldcal Transactions of
1838, but this paper ■was the result of investigations
extending over a period of years, and there is evidence
that reflecting stereoscopes ■were constructed for Wheat-
stone by Newman, a well-known philosophical instrument
maker, so early as the winter of 1832. Wheatstone no
^oubt also, as early as 1845, employed photographic
pictures for his reflecting stereoscope. The subject was
taken up by Sir David Brewster, arid was developed more
jmrticularly in two papers read to the Koyal Society of
Jidinburgh in January 1843 and April 1844. These re-
searches led Brewster to the invention of the lenticular or
refracting stereoscope. The discoveries of Daguerre and
Talbot, and the rapid development of the art of photo-
graphy, enabled photographs to be taken suitable for the
stereoscope, thus superseding the geometrical dra^wings
previously employed, and in 1849 Duboscq, a Parisian
optician, began the manufacture of lenticular stereoscopes
and executed a series of binocular daguerrotypes of living
individuals, statues, bouquets of flowers, and, objects of
patural history. For many years the refracting stereoscope
<ii Brewster was one of the most popular of scientific in-
struments, and was to be found, along with an appropriate
joUection of pictures, in every drawing-room, but of late
pars it has somewhat fallen into the background, and the
fnanufacture by photographers of stereoscopic views now
forms but a small portion of their work. Whilst much
predit is due to Brewster for his ■writings on binocular
yision, and for the efforts he made to introduce the stereo-
scope to the pubij J, there is no aouDt that Wheatstone was
not only the real inventor of the instrument but he also laid
down in his paiy;r published in 1838, and in a second con-
tribution which appeared in the PhilosojMcal Transactions
in 1852, the trae principles of binocular vision."
' OyticJcs, vol ii. pp. 41 and 245.
^ See Brfwst ^ <^n 'it^ Sf-f^f-ji^o"<^ 185G ;
Wheafstone'.'i Scientific
When we look at an external object ■with both eyes ft
is seen generaUy as a single object, although there must be
two retinal pictures, one for each eye. This depends cm
the fact that the excitation of certain associated spots on
the two retinffi is referred to the same point in space, or,
in other words, that the luminous impression which
originates by the irritation of two associated points appearn
as one point in the visual field. Such associated points or
areas of the retina are said to be corresponding or identical.
When an object is seen single by two eyes, the two images
must fall on cprresponding points of the retina. If one
eye be pushed to the side, the image on the retina of that
eye is displaced from its appropriate identical point, and a
double image is the result. Now the term horopter is
applied to represent an imaginary surface containing " all
those points of the outer world from which rays of light
passing to both eyes fall upon identical points of the
retina, the eyes being in a certain position." The horopter
varies with the difi'erent positions of the eyes (see Eye,
vol. viii. p. 826). But it is a familiar experience that we
not only see a single object with two eyes, but the object,
say a cube or a book lying on the table, is seen in relief,
that is, we take cognizance of the third dimension occupied
by the iody in space, although the two retinal pictures
are on a plane. It is clear that the two images of the
object which do not coincide with the horopter cannot be
completely united so as to furnish one single visual impres-
sion. Further, it can readily be demonstrated that the
two retinal pictures are dissimilar, and yet the two images
are fused into one and give the impression of a single
object occupying three dimensions. • To explain these
phenomena, Wheatstone put forward the theory that the
mind completely fused the dissimilar pictures into one,
and that whenever there occurs such complete niental
fusion of images reaUy dissimilar, and incapable of
mathematical coincidence, the result is a perception of
depth of space, or solidity, or relief. The objection Jo this
theory as stated by Wheatstone is that complete fusion
does not take place. It is always possible by close
analysis of visual perceptions to distinguish between the
two retinal pictures. Further, if the fusion is mental, as
stated by Wheatstone, it is an example of unconscious
cerebration. Another explanation has been suggested by
Briicke.^ When we look at objects near at hand the optic
axes are converged strongly, and they become less and
less converged as we gaze at objects farther and farther
away. There is thus a series of axial adjustments, the
necessary muscular movements giving rise to definite
sensations, by which we estimate the relative distance of
objects in the field of view. A man with one eye cannot
judge by this method. We habitually depend upon
binocular vision for the guidance of all such movements os
require an exact estimate of the respective proximity of
two or more objects. "A very good test experiment is to
suspend a curtain ring in such a manner as to present its
edge at the distance of four or five feet from the eye, and
then to try to push sideways through its hoop the curved
handle of a walking stick held by the lower end ; in this
Papers, published by the Physical Society of London, 1879 ; .ind
an article by the late Dr 'WLUiam Carpenter in Edinburgh Ilevicw for
1858.
* This theory is usually attributed to Eriicke, but something very
similar to it ■was tauj^ht by Brewster. Brewster, however, (lid not
attach importance to muscular sensations as an element in the question,
and was content with pointing out that, in looking at the stereoscopic
pictures of a bust, for example, " th« oye» will instantly, bv rueans of
their power of convergence, unite the separated points of tne eyes, and
then the still more separated points of the ears, running over Ki'Ai
part of tho bust with the rapidity of lightning, and uniting all tho
corresponding points in succession, precisely as it does in looking at
the bust itself.'" See his articiR ••stereoscope," in. Encyc. Dritan.,
8th ed., vol. xx. p. 689.
STEREOSCOPJt:
539
feat, which can be readily accomplished under the guidance
of binocular vision, large odds may be laid that success
will not be attained when one eye is closed, until a suc-
cession of trials shall have enabled the experimenter to
measure the distance of the ring by the muscular move-
ments of his arm."i According to Brucke, the two eyes
are continually in a state of motion, and their position
of convergence, now greater now less, passes from one
side to the other, so that the observer combines succes-
sively the different parts of the two pictures, thus giving
rise to sensations of depth of space and of subjects .stand-
ing out in relief. Briicke's theory, in short, is that our
perception of depth depends on the fusion of muscular
sensations, or rather of nervous impressions arising from
the muscles of the eyeballs. It was, however, pointed
out by Dove that the sensation of relief, solidity, or per-
spective is perfect :.ven when natural objects or stereo-
scopic pictures are seen jnomentarily by an electric flash
lasting only ■^,ljyxs "^ ^ second, daring which time it is in-
conceivable that there can be any change in the degree of
convergence of the optic axes. This experiment is fatal
to Briicke's theory, and Wheatstone was right in asserting
that the sensation of relief is instantaneous. A third
theory is that of Joseph Le Conte, advanced in 1871, and
thus stated by himself : — "All objects or points of objects
either beyofad or nearer than the point of sight are doubled,
but differently, — the former homonymously, the latter
heteronymously. The double images id the former case
are united by less convergence, in the latter case by
greater convergence, of the optic axes. Now, the observer
knows instinctively and without trial, in any case of double
images, whether they will be united by greater or less
optic convergence, and therefore never makes a mistake,
or attempts to unite by making a wrong movement of the
optic axes. In other words, the eye (or the mind) in-
stinctively distinguishes homonymous from heteronymous
images, referring the former to objects beyond, and the
latter to objects this side of, the point of sight."^ Thus,
according to Le Conte, the mind perceives relief instantly
but not immediately, and it does so by means of double
images. This theory does not possess the merit of simpli-
city, and, whilst it may explain the phenomenon of relief
as experienced by those who have been specially trained
to the analysis of visual perceptions, it does not satis-
factorily account for the experience of everyday life.
We are therefore obliged to fall back on the theory of
Wheatstone, somewhat modified, namely, that there are,
behind the phenomena referred to the retina, psychical
operations, unconsciously performed, which fuse together
the results of the retinal impressions. In the language
of Hermann, "corresponding points are therefore such
points as furnish images, which, as experience teacliBs, are
habitually combined or fused. But, as it appears necessary
to effect these combinations in order to obtain correct
impressions of objects, we" get into the habit of fusing also
the images of the two not perfectly ccJrresponding points
which, under ordinary circumstances, we should perceive r«
double. It can easily be demonstrated that simultaneoiA
images which fall upon. corresponding points arc not united,
although it is true that they do not form second images.
Whfen the mind must unite images which do not fall upou
corresponding points, the process must bo associated with
the conception that the corresponding points in the object
occupy the situation for which the eye would have to be
arranged, in order that the image should coincide."^
To obtain binocular pictures .suitable for tlio etoreoscopo, tho
camera must be placed successively in two points of tho circum-
' Carpenter, Edinburgh Hcvicw, 1858.
' American Journal 0/ Science and Arts, vol. ii., 1871.
• Hermann's Phytiology, translated by Ganigce, p. 430.
ferenco of a circle of which the object ia the centre, and the poiuts
at which the camera is so placed must have tho angular distance
representing the convergence of the optic axes when the object is
to be viewed in the stereoscope. For example, if the pictures aro
to be seen in the stereoscope at a distance of 8 inches before tlio
eyes, the convergence will be 18°, and the camera must be stationed
at two points on the circle at the same angular distance. Thia
distance of the camera from tho object only affects the viagnititdc
of the picture. Usually two cameras are employed, fixed at tho
proper angular positions. Wheatstone gives the following tablo
of the inclination of the optic axes at dilfcicnt distances, and it
also shows "the angular positions of tho camera required to obtain
binocular pictures which shall appear at a given distauco in tho
stereoscope in their true relief."
'"he"o''pUc"a°c5!- 2° •*■ "■ *■ 10- 12- U- lG•18•S0•23•24•aa•28•■30•
Di5tanco in inches 71-5 35-7 238 17-8 13-2 11-8 lO-l ■8-8 78 7-0 6i iS 5-4 6-0 tO
"The distance is equal to J a cotang J 9, — a denoting tho distance
between .the two eyes and B the inclination of tho optic axes"
(Wheatstone, Scientific Papers, p. 270).
Suppose two stereoscopic pictures thus taken aro presented to
the two eyes ;
it is possible
by an effort
so to converge
the eyes as to
throw the im-
ages on corres-
ponding points,
and when this
is done the ob-
jects are seen
in relief (fig. 1).
Such an effort,
however, soon
causes fatigue,
andfewpersons
can so control
their eyes and
keep them in
the forced posi-
tion as to view
the pictures
in their natu-
ral perspective
with any com-
fort. The object of all stereoscopes is to throw the two pictures ou
corresponding points with the eyes in an ordinary position.
Tho principle of Wheatstone's reflecting stereoscope is illustrated
in fig. 2. It consisted of two plane mirrors, about 4 inches
square, fixed in frames
and so adjusted that
their backs form an
angle of 90° with each
other. These mirrors
ai J fixed to an upright
against tho middleline
of a verticil board cut
away so as to al low 1 he
eyes to be placed be- a
fore the mirrors. On '
each side there is a
panel bearing a groove
above and below into
which tho correi,pond-
ing pictures can bo""
slid. Mechanical ar-
rangements also exist
for tho purpose of
moving tlio pictures
to or from tho mirrors
and also for inclining
tho pictures at any n^~|i — ^ B «
angle (fig. 3). There is p,g 2._DmEniin of Wheatstone's Reflecting Stei-co-
one position in which scope. . K.K, right nndlcltcycsi S, S', S", mlrrow
L, K, rnncls for holjinfc [ilcjlrcs ; a t, plcluio on
left aide; a, ftj, picture on riiTlit ^l(lc ; a, fi, X nnd
Flo. 1. — Stereoscopic flfrures. A, cone ; B, ten-stded
pyramid.
tho binocular imago
will bo immediately
seen .single, of its pro-
per size, and without
fatigue, " because in
this position only tho
ordinary relations be-
tween the magnitude
a, fi, p arc concspoiulinff points on rutinic; AI.II,
object as seen In relief In minors ; 6, »ccn by left
eye In position U, and imago on rvtinaat^ ; L seen
at L It, and retinal IninKO at A; o seen at A,;ind
retinal ImaRC nt aC a' seen at A, and rcllnal ining«
at a; U seen at K L, anil rotinal ImaRc atp; 6' scon
nt B, nnd retinni imngo at 0.— Lnndois and Stii ling'«
J, — niiiMon-
of the pictures in tho retina, the inclination of tho optic axes, and
the adaptation of tho eye to distinct vision at different distance*
arc preserved " (Wheatstone). Although somewhat cumbrous, tho
reflecting 8tereos(M)po is a most useful instrument, and ooablos os*
540
STEREOSCOPE
to perform a greater variety of ejqjeriments on binocular vision tlian
can bs tarried out easily with the more common form.
Fig. 3. — 'WTieatstoQe'3 Reflecting Stereoscope.
'Wheatstone also invented a form of stereoscope in which the pic-
tares were brought on corresponding points of the retina by refrac-
tion instead of by reflexion. This had a form very like the oioinary
stereoscope, but, instead of lenses in the apertures to which the eyes
are directed, it had "a pair of glass prisms having their faces inclined
15° anil their refractive angles turned towards each other. ... A
pair of plate-glass prisms, their faces making with each other an
angle of 12°, will b.ing two pictures, the corresponding points of
which are 24 inch' s apart, to coincide at a distanw "f 12 ic-lts, nnd
a pair with an angle of 15° will occasion coincidence at 8 inches."'
The form of stereoscope generally used is that invented by Sir
Davit] Brewster, and is known as the refsacting stereoscope. The
arrangement is shown
diagrammatically in
fig. 4. Let the left eye
be at A and the right
at B ; let a and b be
the corresponding pic-
tures for each eye, and
Pi. Pv two prisms of
glass. A prism refracts
rays of light so that
the object seen through
the prism appears to be
nearer to the refracting
edge ; the prism Pi
therefore rejracts the
ray api in the direction
PiA, as if it proceeded
from c. The prism p^
refracts the ray bp„ s^
that to the eye at B il
also appears to proceed ^ a. a Y
from c. The effect of !/ J
this is that the object *'■"■ 4.— Diagram of the Refracting Stereoscope,
really appears to be at c. And as the points a and '* -'ombine to
form the point c, so d and e unite to form the point /, and g and
A to form the point
t (Weinhold). This
stereoscope consists
of a pyramidal box
blackened inside and
havirfg a lid for the
admission of light {fig.
5). At the narrow
end of the box are
two tubes carrying
the lenses. The tubes
move up and down to
suit eyes of different
focal lengths, and
sometimes convex or
concave lenses are in-
serted over the prisms
to meet the wants of
long-sighted or short-
sighted persons. Fig. 6
shows the upper end of
the stereoscope, with
the lenses in position.
A. Stroh (witbout
knowing that H. Grubb *^''- *•— Sir DavH Brewaters Stereoscope.
had described the essentials of the apparatus in 1879) has recently
invented a new form of stereoscope based on the well-known effects
» Whef.tatono'8 Scieriific Papers, p. 2S7.
—Lenses hi Refracting
Stereoscope,
Fig. 7.
of the persistence of vision. Two stereoscopic pictures are simni
taneously projected by two lanterns on a screen so as to overlai
and disks having suitable slits ^ j
are rotated in front of the Ian- •
terns and also in front of the
eyes of the observer, in such a
way that only one picture is
thrown on the screen at a time,
and also that the view of the
picture is seen with the right and left eyes alternately. Farther,
the connexion between the disks is so aiTanged that the time of
obscuring the view of the observer's right eye or left eye coincides
with the time when the light is shut off from the right or left
lantern, and thus the left eye sees the picture of the left lantern
and the right eye that of the right lautei-n. The two eyes never
see at the same time, aad each eye views its picture after the other,
but the impressions come so fast as to be fused in consciousness,
and the result is, the image stands out "in solid relief" (Proc.
Roy. Soc., No. 244, vol. xl., April 1, 1886).
During his researches into the physiology of vision, 'V^eatstont
was led to study what he teimed conversions of relief. Suuietimei
when we look at a geometrical figure such as a cube or rhom-
boid it may be imagined to represent one of two diisiniilar
ngures. in ng. / the rhomboid AX is drawn so
that the solid angle A shoiJd be seen nearest, and ,
solid angle X farthest, and face ABCD foremost,
while XDC is behind. Look steadily and the posi-
tion will change : X will appear nearest, solid angle
A farthest; face ACDB will recede behind XDC'
The effects are most obvious when seen with one
eye, and "no Ulusion of this kind can take place
when an object o£ tt-^co dimensions is seen with
both eyes while the optic axes make a sensible angle
with each other, because the appearance of two dissimilar figures,
one to each eye, prevents the possibility of mistake " (Wheat
stone). The conversion of a cameo into an intaglio and of an in-
tagli" ic*^'' a '■aihoo ''■ a well-known instance of this illusion.
W^catstone observed the conversion of relief exhibited by binocular
pictures in the stereoscope when they are transposed, reflected, oj
inverted, and this led him to the invention of the Pscudoscope, an
instrument which conveys to the mind false perceptions of all ex-
ternal objects. " Two rectangular prisms of flmt glass, the faces of
which are 1 '2 inch square, are placed ia a frame with their hypo-
thenuses parallel and 2'1 inches from each other ; each prism has
a motion on an axis corresponding with the angle nearest the
eyes, that they may be adjusted so that their bases may have any
iclination towards each other" (Wheatstone's Scientific Papers,
p. 275). In fig. 8 there is a diagram of the
.instrument. If a spherical surface be exa-
mined with this instrument, itwillappear
hollow ; whQst a hollow surface will appear
convex. It is remarkable, how^'ver, that
tho con V ci tiii^ j-vTTcio of this instrument
are greatest where the new forms can be
conceived without effort. Thus a cameo
and an intaglio, a plaster cast in rehef and
its uioald, or any ibjo"*- •airv.iljir »> ^*o #>Tv.
posite reliefs is at once changed by the
pseudoscope into the converse form. As
pointed out by Dr Carpenter, by gazing we
c in reverse the interior of a mask so as to
see the countenance stand out in relief; it . — '^^?\
is more difficult to throw the features of a/ J ^
bust into the shape of a mould; whilst ity /7 J
is impossible to ellect any conversion upon ^-^-^
the features of the living face. " The op- ' '
tical change is identically the same in its ^'^i^lfJ^^SZlpHtl
nature in everyone or these cases; and tubes containing pilsms
there ia nothing in the form of the features ui, 6f ^^'^ «. P, coitc
which refuses to present a converse, this sponding points; o, ft, t,
converted shape fioing presented by the r^7j_"»n'>f P<"i"8'avl»v
Tn.">.eV • but tbe mind, which will admit the
conception of the converted form when suggested by the inanimsi^
mask or bust, ia dtcoled by itt' previous experience against the notioi
that actual flesh and
blood can undergo such
a metamorphosis "(Car-
penter, Edinburgh He-
view, 1858, p. 460).
A little consideration
v.-ill show that the pic-
tures of objects placed
at a great distance from
the eye are practically
if not wholly identical.
iti:i o( Von llclniholtz'l
Tcle»lei\;oscope.
Here there is eeareely any stereoscupK
3 Necker, PMI. Nag., ti ssiies, vsl, i. p, iHT,
S T E — S T E
541
efTect, and the landscape miy appear to be Hat, as in a picture. To
(il)tain a stereoscopic view of a landscape Von Hclmholtz invented
llio Tdcstercoscope, an instniment which places as it wore the point
of view of Ijoth eyes wide apart. It consists of two mirrors L and
R, each of which projects its image upon / and r, to which the eyes
0 and 0 are directed. The eyes 0 and o are placed as it were at Oj
and Oj, according to the distance between L and R : consequently
two dissimilar pictures are obtained ; these are mentally conjbined,
with the result that the landscape is seen like a. stereoscopic view.
The principle of the stereoscope was successfully applied by
Wenham in 1854 tn the construction of the oiuocul^r microscope.
See MicKoscoPE (vol. xvi. p. 272;, and also two papers in the
Jour. Itoy. Mkr. Soc, 1884:— (1) "On the Mode of Vision with
Objectives of Wide Aperture," by Prof. E. Abbe, p. 20 ; and (2)
"On the Physiology of Binocular Vi.sion with the Microscope,"
by Dr Carpenter, p. 486. Prof. Abbe shows, however, that
.■'oblique vision in the microscope is entirely different from that in
ordinary vision, in;ismuch as there is no perspective, so that we
have no longer the dissimilarity which is the basis of the ordinary
stereoscopic effect, but an essentially different mode of dissimilarity
between U.t? two pictures." In the microscope there is no per-
spective foreshortening. 'There is no difference in the outline of
an object viewed under the microscope by an axial or by an oblique
pencil. There is simply a l:uei<il '-"iplncpment of the image — an
entirely different phenomenon to that which occurs m non-micro-
scopic vision. Thus, whilst the mode of formation of dissimilar
pictures in the binocular microscope is different from the production
cE ordinary stereo.'scopic pictures, the brain mechanism by which
tliey are so fused as to give rise to sensations of solidity, depth,
and perspective is the same. (J. G. M. )
STEREOTYPE. See Typography.
STERLING, a city of the United States, in Whits-
side county, Illinois, on Rock River (a tributary of the
Mississippi), 110 miles west of Chicago. Mainly on account
of the abundant water-power produced by the natural rapids
of the river and a dam 1100 feet long, it has become the
seat of the most varied manufacturing industry. An
artesian well 1000 feet deep, discharging 18,000 gallons
per hour, contributes to the water-supply of the town.
The population was 5312 in 1870 and 5087 in 1880.
Sterling was laid out in 1836 and incorporated in 1857.
STERLING, John (1806-1844), author, was descended
from a family of Scottish origin which bad settled in
Ireland about the Cromwellian period. His father,
Edward Sterling, born at Waterford 27tn February 1773,
had been called to the Irish bar, but, having fought as a
militia captain at Vinegar Hill, afterwards volunteered
with his company into the line. On the breaking up of his
regiment he went to Scotland, and took to farming at Karnes
Castle in Bute, where John, the second son, was born 20th
July 1806. In 1810 the family removed to Llanblethian,
Glamorganshire, and during his residence there Edward
Sterling, under the' signature of "Vetus," contributed a
Dumber of letters to the Times, which were reprinted in
1812, and a second series in 1814. In the latter year he
removed to Paris, but, the escape of Napoleon from Elba
in 1815 ccmpeUing him to return to England, he took up
his permanent residence in London, obtaining a connexion
with the Times newspaper, and ultimately being promoted
editor. Carlylc, v/ho allows him the dubious credit of
being one of the best of newspaper editors, represents him
as manifesting " a thoroughly Irish form of character, firo
and fervour, vitality of all kinds in genial abundance, but
in a much more loquacious, ostentatious, much louder style
than is freely patronized on this side of the Channel."
His fiery, emphatic, and oracular mode of writing conferred
those characteristics on the Times which were recognized
in the ' sobriquet of the " Thunderer." The frequent
changes of the family residence during the early years of
young Sterling rendered his education Bomowhat desul-
tory, but on the settlement in London it became more
systematic. After studying for one year at tho univer-
sity of Glasgow, ho in 1S24 entered Trinity College, Cam-
bridge, where he had for tutor Julius Charles Hare. At
Cimbridge he did not distinguish himself ozcept in the
debates of the union, where, "none," it was related,
" ever came near liim except the late Charles BuUer."
He removed to Trinity Hall with the intention of
graduating in law, but left the university without takip.g
a degree. During the next four years he resided chiefly in
London, employing himself actively in literature. Along
with Frederick Maurice he purchased the Athenseum from
J. Silk Buckingham, but the enterprise was not a pecuniary
success. Through Maurice he became an "assiduous
pilffrim " to the shrine of Coleridge at Hampstoad. He
also formed an intimacy with the Spanish revolutionist
General Torrijos, in whose unfortunate expedition he took
an active interest. Shortly after his marriage in 1830,
symptoms of pulmonary disease induced him to take up
hia residence in the island of St Vincent, where he had
inherited some property, but after fifteen months he
returned to England. After spen''ing some time on the
Continent he found his health so much re-established that in
June 1834 he accepted a curacy at Hurstmocceaux, where
his Old luior Julius Hare was vicar. Acting on the advice
of his physician he resigned his clerical duties in the
following February, but according to Carlylo -ill-health was
only the external occasion of his resignation, the primary
cause being a partly unconscious divergence from the
opinions of the church. Be this as it may, the threaten-
ing progress of the insidious disease under which he
laboured soon rendered "public life in any professional
form " quite impossible. There remained to him the
" resource of the pen," but, having to " live all the rest of
his days as in continual flight for his very existence," his
literary achievements were necessarily fragmentary, and
cannot be regarded as a criterion of his capabilities. He
published in 1833 Arthur Coningsby, a novel, which at-
tracted little attention, and his Poems (1839), t)i& Electicm,
a Poem (1841), and Strafford, a tragedy, were not more
successful. He had, however, established a connexion
with Blackwood^s Magazine, to which he contributed a
variety of papers and several tales, which gave promise
that under more favourable conditions he might have
"achieved greatness." He died at Ventnor 18th September
1844. His father survived him till 1847.
Sterling's papers were entrusted to the joint care of Thomas
Carlyle and Archdeacon Hare, and it was agreed that the selection
of his writings for publication and the preparation of a memoir
should be undertaken by tho latter. Essays and Talcs, by John
Sterling, collected and edited, with a memoir of his life, by Julius
Charles Hare, appeared therefore in 1848 in two volumes. So
dissatisfied was Carlylo with tho memoir, chiefly because it unduly
magnified the ecclesiastical side of Sterling's life, that ho resolved
to give his own "testimony "about his friend, and "record clearly"
what his "knowledge of him was." His vivid porti'aituro of
Stprtinf in the Li^t which appeared in 1851 has perpetuated the
memory of Sterling afiei his wnttojjit li»ve ceased to bo of interest
on their own account.
STERNBERG, a mnnufacturing town in Moravia, Aus-
tria, is situated 9 miles to the north of Olmiitz and 47
miles to the north-east of Briinn. It is the chief seat of
the Moravian cotton industry, and it also carries on the
manufacture of linen, stockings, liqueurs, sugar, and bricks.
Its six suburbs and the surrounding districts are also on-
gaged in tho textile industry. Fruit, especially cherries,
and tobacco are grown in the neighbourhood. The popu-
lationin 1880 was 14,243. Sternberg is said to have grown
up under tho shelter of a castle founded by YaroslaiT of
Sternberg on tho site of his victory over tho Mongols in
1241.
STERNE, Laurence (1713-1768), one of the greatest
of English humorists, was the son of an English olTicor,
and great-grandson of an archbishop of York. Nearly all
our information about tho first forty-six years of his life
before ho became famous as the author of Triftram
Shandy is derived from a short memoir jotted down by
542
STERNE
himself for the use of his daughter. It gives nothing but
the barest facts, excepting three anecdotes about his in-
fancy, his school-days, and his marriage. The date of his
birth coincides with the close of the Marlborough wars.
He was. born at Clonmel, Ireland, on JSovember 24, 1713,
a few days after the arrival of his father's regiment from
Dunkirk. The regiment was then disbanded, but very
soon after re-estabGshed, and for ten years the boy and
his mother moved from place to place after the regiment,
from England to Ireland, aud from one part of Ireland to
another. The familiarity thus acquired with military
life and character stood Sterne in good stead when he
drew the portraits of Uncle Toby and Corporal Trim, and
the influence of the excitements, shifts, and hardships of
this lifu of vagabond gentility may also be traced in his
own character. To its hardening effect we may fairly
refer some part of his later reckless defiance of clerical
proprieties and comical persistence la self-conscious eccen-
tricity. After ten years of wandering, he was fixed for
eight or nine years at a school near Halifax in Yorkshire.
His father died when he was in his eighteenth year, and
he was indebted for his university education to one of the
members of his father's family. His great-erandfathtr the
archbishop had been master of Jesus College, Cambridge,
and to Jesus College he was sent in 1732. He was ad-
mitted to a sizarship in July 1733, and took his B.A.
degree in 1736. One of his uncles was a prominent church
dignitary in Yorkshire. Voung Sterne took, orders, and
through his influence obtained in 1738 the living of
Sutton, some 8 miles north of York. On his marriage
three years afterwards he was presented to the neighbour-
ing living of Stillington. and did duty at both places.
He was also a prebendary of York.
Sutton was Sterne's residence for twenty uneventful
years — years at least concerning which his biography is
silent. The only ascertained fact of consequence is that
he kept up an intimacy which had begun at Cambridge
with John Hall Stevenson, ia witty and accomplished
epicurean, owner of Skelton Castle in the Cleveland dis-
trict of Yorkshire. Skelton Castle is nearly 40 miles
from Sutton, but Sterne, in spite of his double duties,
seems to have been a frequent visitor there, and to have
found in hia not too strait-laced friend a highly congenial
compauluu. Stevenson's various occasional sallies in
verse and prose — his Fables for Grown Gentlemen, his
Crazy Tales, and his numerous skits at the political
opponents of Wilkes, amon^ whose " macaronies " he
numbered himself, — were collected after his death, and it is
impossible to read them without being struck with their
close family resemblance in spirit and turn of thought to
Sterne's work, inferior as they are in literary genius.
Without' Stevenson Sterne would probably have been a
more decorous parish priest, but he would probably never
have written Tristram Shand-y or left any other memorial
of his singular genius. The two friends began to publish
lite in life and in the same year. The first two volumes
of Tristram Shandy were issued on the 1st of January
1760, and at once made a sensation. York was scandal-
ized at its clergyman's indecency and indignant at his
caricature of a local physician ; London was charmed
with his audacity, wit, and graphic unconventional power.
He went to London early in the year to enjoy his triumph,
and found himself at once, a personage ia society, — was
called upon and invited out by lion-hunters, was taken to
Windsor by Lord Rockingham, and had the honour of
supping with the duke of York.
For the last eight years of his life after this suddeu
leap out of obscurity we have a faithful record of Sterne's
feelings and movements in letters to various persons,
published after his death by hia daughter. At the
end of the famous Sermon on Conscience in vol. ii. ot
Tristram he had intimated that, if this sample of Yorick's
pulpit eloquence was liked, " there are now in the posses,
sion of the Shandy family as many as will make a hand-
some volume at the world's service — and much good may
they do it." Accordingly, when a second eo.tion of the
first instalment of Tristram was called for in three months,
two volumes of Sermons by Yorick were announced.
Although they.had little or none of the eccentricity of the
history, they proved almost as popular. Sterne's clerical
character was far from being umversally injured by his
indecorous freaks as a humorist : Lord Faidconberg
presented the author of Tristram Shandy with the living
of Coxwold. To this new residence he went in high
spirits with his success, " fully determined to write as hard
as could be," seeing no reason why he should not give the
public two volumes of Shandyism every year and why
this should not go on for forty years. By the beginning
of August he had another volume written, and was " so
delighted with Uncle Toby's imaginary character that he
was become an enthusiast." The author's delight in this
wonderful creation was not misleading ; it has been fully
shared by every generation of readers since. For two
years in succession Sterne kept his bargain with himself
to produce two volumes a year. Vols. iii. and iv.
appeared in December 1760; vols. v. and vL in January
1762. But his sanguine hopes of continuing at this rate
were frustrated by ill-health. He was ordered to the
south of France ; it was two years and a half before he
returned ; and he came back with very little accession of
strength. His reception by literary circles in France was
very flattering. He was overjoyed with it. "'Tiscomms
d, Londres," he wrote to Garrick from Paris ; " I have just
now a fortnight's dinners and suppers upon my hands."
And again, " Be it known I Shandy it away fifty times
more than I was ever wont — talk more nonsense than ever
you heard me talk in your days, and to all sorts of
people." Thiough all his pleasant experiences of French
society, and through the fits of dangerous illness by which
they were- diversified, he continued to build up his history
of the Shandy family, but the work did not progress as
rapidly as it had done. Not till January 1765 was he
ready with the fourth instalment of two volumes ; and one
of them; vol. vii., leaving the Shandy family for a time,
gave a lively sketch of the writer's own travels to the south
of France in search of health. This was a digression of a
new kind, if anything can be called a digression in a work
the plan of which is to fly off at a tangent whenever and
wherever the writc'is whim tempts him. In the first
volume, anticipating an obvious complaint, he had protested
against digressions that left the main work to stand still,
and had boasted — not without justice in a Shandean sense
— that he had reconciled digressive motion with progres-
sive." But in vol vii. the work is allowed to stand still
while the writer is being transported from Shandy Hall to
Languedoc. The only progress we make is in the illustra-
tion of the buoyant and joyous temper of Tristram himself,
who, after all, is a member of the Shandy famUy, and was
due a volume for the elucidation of his character. Vol. viii.
begins the long-promised story of Uncle Toby's amours
with the widow Wadman. After seeing to the publication
of this instalment of Tristram and of another set of
sermons, — more pronouncedly Shandean in their eccentri-
city,— he quitted England again in the summer of 1765,
and travelled in Italy as far as Naples. The ninth and
last and shortest volume of Tristram, concluding the
episode of Toby Shandy's amours, appeared in 1767.
This despatched, Sterne turned to a new project, which
had probably been suggested by the ease and freedom with
which he had moved through the traveiUng volume in
IS T E — S T E
54c
Tristram. The Sentimental Journey through France and
Italy was intended to be a long work : the plan 'admitted
of any length that the author chose, but, after seeing the
first two volumes through the press in the early months of
1768, Sterne's strength failed, him, and he died in his
London lodgings on the 18th of March, three weeks after
the publication. The loneliness of his end has often been
commented on ; it was probably due to its unexpectedness.
Ho had pulled through so many sharp attacks of his " vile
influenza" and other lung disorders that he began to be
seriously alarmed only three days before his death.
Sterne's character defies analysis in brief space. It is
too subtle and individual to be conveyed in general terms.
For comments upon him from points of view more or
less diverse the reader may be referred to Thackeray's
Humorists, Prof. Masson's Novelists, and Mr H. D. Traill's
sketch in the " English Men of Letters " series. The
fullest biography is Mr Percy Fitzgerald's. But the reader
who cares to have an opinion about Sterne should hesitate
till he has read and re-read in various moods considerable
portions of Sterne's own writing. This writing is so
singularly frank and unconventional that its drift is not at
once apparent to the literary student. The indefensible
indecency and overstrained sentimentality are on the
surface ; but after a time every repellent defect is forgotten
in the enjoyment of the exquisite literary art. In the
delineation of character by graphically significant speech
and action, introduced at unexpected turns, left with
happy audacity to point their own meaning, and pointing
it with a force that the dullest cannot but understand,
ho takes rank with the very greatest masters. In Toby
Shandy he has drawn a character universally lovable and
admirable ; but Walter Shandy is almost greater as an
artistic triumph, considering the difficulty of the achieve-
ment. Dr Ferriar, in his Illustrations of Sterne (published
in 1812), pointed out several unacknowledged plagiarisms
from Rabelais, Burton, and others ; but it is only fair to
the critic to say that he was fully aware that they were
only plagiarisms of material, and do not detract in the
slightest from Sterne's reputation as one of the greatest of
literary artists. (w. M.)
STESICHORUS bf Himera, a very famous lyric poet,
lived between 630 and 550 B.C. His name was originally
Tisias, if we may trust Suidas, but it was changed to
Stesichorus on account of his eminence in choral poetry.
He was famed in antiquity for the richness and splendour
of his imagination and his style, although Quintilian
censures his redundancy and Hermogenes remarks on the
excessive sweetness that results from his abundant use of
epithets. We are told that he warned his fellow-citizens
against Phalaris, whom they had chosen as their general,
by relating to them the well-known fable of the horse
and the stag. The story that he was struck blind for
slandering Helen in a poem, and afterwards recovered his
sight when ho had sung a recantation, is told first by
Plato, and afterwards, with many additions, by Pausanias
and others. We possess some fragments of the former
poem, censuring the daughters of Tyndareus, who "wed
two, nay three husbands, and leave their lords " (Fr, 26),
and three lines from the palinodoj "This is no true tale,
nor yet wentest thou in the strong benched ships, or camest
to the tower of Troy " (Fr. 32). It seems probable that
Stesichorus did really write his recantation in consequence
of a dream which he had soon aftu" composing his poem
on Helen ; and his is not the only case in literature where
an apparently miraculous cure is said to have followed
some such act of utonoment. Wo possess about thirty
fragments of his poems, not counting single words, pre-
served in Athona;us and elsewhere. None of them is
longer than six lines. They are written in the Doric
dialect, with epic licences and occasional .^lolisms; the
metre is dactylico-trochaic. Brief as they are, they show
us what Longinus meant by calling Stesichorus " most
like Homer " ; they are full of epic grandeur, and have a
stately sublimity that reminds us of Pindar. Stesichorus
indeed made a new departure by using lyric poetry to
celebrate gods and heroes rather than human feelings and
passions; this is what Quintilian means by saying that
he " sustained the burden of epic poetry with the lyre."
Several of his poems sung of the adventures of Heracles ;
one dealt with the siege of Thebes, another with the sack
of Troy. The last — to which the Tabula Ili'aca (see Otto
Jahn's Griechische Bilderchroniken, ed. A. Jlichaelis) is a
soVt of commentary — possesses an interest for us as the
first poem it( which occurred that form of the story of
^neas's flight to which Virgil afterwards gave currency in
his ^neid. Stesichorus also completed the choral ode by
adding to the strophe and antistrophe the epode ; and not
to know " Stesichorus's three" passed into a proverbial
expression for unpardonable ignorance.
Bergk, Podx Lyrici Graxi, vol. iii. pp. 205-231, Leipsic, 1882.
STETHOSCOPE. See Auscitltation.
STETTIN, the chief town of Pomerania, and the leading
seaport in Prussia, is situated on the Oder, 17 mUes to the
south of the Stettiner Haff and 30 miles from the Baltic
Sea. The main part of the town occupies a hilly site on
the left bank of the river,
and is connected by four
bridges (includingamass-
ive railway swing-bridge)
with the suburbs of La-
stadie ("lading place,"
from lastadiiim, " bur-
den,") and Silberwiese,
on an island formed by
the Parnitz and Dunzig,
which here diverge from
the Oder to Dammsche-
See. Until 1874 Stettin
was closely girdled by
very extensive and strong
fortifications, wJuch pre-
vented the expansion of
the town proper, but the
steady growth of its commerce
^
^BALTIC SEA
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\ndMifcSSO^\ 1
^\ ir^C~xy^
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^-,,vo \ yiC>^
-^
-TSs^JflVaD." VP'^'^IwC
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-— ^/ \l ^ '^^jj
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Environs of Stettin.
and manufactures en-
couraged the foundation of numerous industrial suburbs
beyond the line of defence. Some of these are themselves
"towns," as Grabow, with 13,072 inhabitants in 1880,
and Bredow with 1 1,255 inhabitajats ; but all combine with
Stettin to form one industrial and commercial centre.
Since the removal of the fortifications their site has begun
to bo built upon. Apart from its commerce, Stettin is a
comparatively uninteresting city. The church of Sts Peter
and Paul, originally founded in 1121 and restored in 1816-
17, was the earliest Christian church in Pomerania. St
James's church, dating from the 13th and the two loilow-
ing centuries, is remarkable, like several other Pomeranian
churches, for its size. The old palace, now occupied by
Government oflSces, is a largo unattractis-e edifice, scarcely
justifying the boast of an old writer that it did not yield
in magnificence even to the palaces of Italy. Among the
more modern structures are the theatre and the new
town-house, superseding an earlier one of 1245. Statues
of Frederick the Great and of Frederick William HI.
adorn one of the five open squares of the old town. As a
prosperous commercial town Stettin has numerous educa-
tional, benevolent, and scientific institutions.
The manufactures are very important; many of the
largest factories are in the neighbouring villages, bcj'ond
Stettin proper. The shipbuilding yards (omong which
544
S T E — S T E
that of the Vulcan Company deserves mention) have com-
[.MiT.rively recently attained' some reputation for their iron-
clads icud war-vessels. Machinery, cement, chemicals, and
soap are produced in large quantities., and there are also
Plan of SiijUT.
large sngar-refineries, besides a vast miscellany of other
smaller industrial establishments. The trade of Stettin is
very, flourishing. ^lore than any other harbour it may be
regarded as the port of Berlin, from which it is 93 miles
north-east by railway ; and a larger number of ve.ssels
enter and clear at Stettin than at any other German port
except Hamburg and Bremerhaven. S^VINT1M0^"DE {q.v.)
serves as its fore-port. The forest and river scenery of the
neighbourhood of Stettin is picturesque, but the low level
and swampy nature of the soil render the climate bleak
and unhealthy. In 1885 the population was 99,475 ; in
1880 it was 91,756, of whom 85,727 were Protestants.
3112 Roman Catholics, and 2388 Jews.
In 1885 3809 ocean vessels (2207 steamers) and 1965 coasting and
river craft, besides 10,039 Oder barges, entered the port. In 1885
Stettin possessed (besides a large number of river craft) a fleet of
127 sea-going ships, with a burden of 47,066 tons, of which 26,754
tons were distributed in 59 steamers. The chief exports are grain,
spirits, and wood ; the chief imports petroleum, train-oil, wine, and
herrings. The annual value of the former is about £7,500,000 and
of the latter about £6,000,000.
Stettin is said to have existed as a Wendish fishing-village as
early as 830 A,D., and it appears as Stedj'n in the time of the
Saxon emperors. From the 12th century it was the seat of tho
dukes of Pomerania, who became extinct" in 1637. Passing then
to Sweden, it remained united with that kingdom for eighty-three
ytars, with one brief interval, but in 1720 it was ceded to Prussia.
Gustavus Adelphus undertook to improve its fortifications in 1630,
but Frederick the Great was the first to convert it into a strong
modern fortress. From 1806 till 1813 it was held by the French,
to whom it was surrendered without a blow. Known even in the
12th century as the leading trading-town on the Oder. Stettin
entered the Hanseatio League in 1360. The development of its
trade in modern times dates chiefly from the deepening and pro-
tection of tho Swine in the former half of last century. See
Ol^EB.
STEUART, Sm James Denham (1712-1780), Bart.,
author oi An Inquiry into the Principles of Polilical Eco-
nomy (see Political Economy, vol. xix. p. 365), was the
only son of Sir James Steuart. solicitor-general for Scotland
under Queen Anne and George L, and was born at Edin-
burgh on October 21, 1712. After passing through the
university of Edinburgh he was admitted to the Scottish
bar at the age of twenty-four. He then spent some years
on the Continent, and while in Rome entered into relations
with the Pretender. He was in Edinburgh in 1745, and
so compromised himself that after the battle of Culloden
he found it necessary to return to the Continent, where ha
remained until 1763. It was not indeed until 1771 he
was fully pardoned for any complicity he may have had
in the rebellion. He died at his family seat, Coltness, in
Lanarkshire, on November 26, 1780.
Tlic Works, Polilical, Metaphysical, and Chronological, of the
late Sir James Steuart of Coltness, Barl., now first collected, with
Anecdotes of the Author, by his Son, Gciiaal Sir James Denham
Steuart, were published in 6 vols, 8vo in 1805, Besides the In-
quiry (originally published in 2 vols, 4to in 1767), they incluri s —
A Dissertation vpon the Doctrines and Principles of Money applied
to til/; German Coin (1758), Apologie du Sentiment de M. le Chcvaticr
Newton sur V Aiicicnnc Chronologic des Grccs {4to, Frankfort-on-the-
llain, 1757), The Principles of Monaj applied to the Present Slate
of Benqal, published at the request of the East India Company
(4to, 1772), A Dissertation on the Policy of Grain (1783), Planfar
Introducing Uniformity in Weights and Measures within the Limits
of the British Empire (1790), Observations on Beattie'a Essa^ on
Truth, A Dissertation concerning the Motive of Obedience to the
Law of God, and other treatises.
STEUBENVILLE, a city of the United States, county
seat of Jefi'erson county, Ohio, lies 43 miles west of Pitts-
burgh, on the west bank of th" Ohio river, here a third
of a mile wide and crossed by a railway bridge. Built
above a productive coalfield, and with an abundant supply
of natural gas for fuel purposes, SteubenviUe has naturally
become a manufacturing centre (foundries, rolling-mills,
nail and glass factories, potteries, machine-shops, flour-
mills, ifcc), and as the surrounding district is a good
farming, wool-growing, and stock-raising country it is the
seat of considerable commercial activity. The court-house
is a particularly fine building. In 1870 the population
was 8107, in 1880 12,093. SteubenviUe, to called after
Baron Steuben, one of Washington's generals, grew up
rormd a fort erected in 1787. It became a city in 1851.
STEVENS, Alfred See Sculptitre, toL xxi. p. 561.
STE\TENS, Thaddeus (1792-1868), was born at
Peacham, Vermont, U.S., April 4, 1792, graduated at
Dartmouth College in 1814, and then settled in Penn-
sylvania. He soon became a leading lawyer of Lancaster,
Pa., so far interested in politics as to be elected by the
Whig party to the State legislature for several terms and
to the federal house of representatives 1849-63. When
the mass of the Northern Whig party went into the new
Republican party he went with it, and returned to Wash-
ington as a Republican representative in 1859, just before
the outbreak of the Ci\'il War. This position he retained
until his death, just outlasting the CivU War and recon-
struction, During this period of American history he was
one of the leading characters. The methods on which he
proposed to conduct the war were always drastic : the
wholesale confiscation of lands in the seceding States, the
disfranchisement of insurgent citizens, the emancipation
and enfranchisement of the negroes, all found in him their
earliest and warmest advocate. While other parties and
leaders were continually shifting their ground, changing
their theories of the relations of the Union to the seceding
States as the struggle grew more intense, Stevens was con-
sistent from beginning to end. The almost universal
theory was that the war was prosecuted only to enforce
the constitution ; it was therefore incumbent on those who
prosecuted it to obey the constitution punctiliously, how-
6 T E — S T E
545
pvor Duzzling might be the difficulties into which it led
tl m Sns,°o. the coutravy, insisted that armed
rSance to the constitution had the effect of suspending
the constitution within the area of the resistance ; that the
ucces of the resistance would show whether he suspen-
sl was to he temporary or permanent; and that, m he
meantime, those who resisted the constitution were entitled
r no Hght^ under it,-in fact, to no rights except thn.e
reserved^under the laws of war. This was too radu^al even
for the war party ; but, at the end of the war, Stevens s
pronoun ealbilit; gave him the leadership of the house
Trnmittee on reconstruction. Even in t us Position, he
never obtained a formal endorsement of his theoiy , but
the practical management of reconstruction shows its
Ion. influence in many features otherwise inexplicable
He iTved to take a leading part in the unsuccessful
Sipeachment of President. Johnson, and to see the admis-
sfon of the first instalment of reconstructed States, and
died at Washington, August 11, 1868.
STEVENSON, Robert (1772-1850), civil engineer, was
the only son of Alan Stevenson, partner m a West Indian
hou°e n Glasgow, and was born in that city 8th June 1 . - 2.
Havin- lost his father in infancy, he removed with his
mothe? to Edinburgh. In his youth he assisted his s ep-
Ke? Thomas Smith, in his lighthouse schemes, and at
the ekrly age of nineteen was sent to superintend the
erect on of a lighthouse on the island of Little Cumbrae.
Durng successive winters he attended classes at Anderson s
College, Glasgow, and at Edinburgh university. He suc-
ceeded his stepfather, whose daughter he married in 1Z99
as enl r to the Board of Northern Lighthouses, and at
^hesfmetime began general P-^f^/^, .Vri dSS
During his period of office from 1 / 9/ o 1843, he f^-'S^^^
and executed no fewer than eighteen ighthouses, the most
Lportant being that on the Bell Rock, begun 'n/807 and
completed in 1810, in which ho improved considerably on
the des gns of Smkton for the Eddystone ..hthonse (.see
L^^hthLsk, vol. xiv. p. 616). For its ^l'---tion h
introduced an improved apparatus ; he was also the autho.
of various other valuable inventions in connexion wiA
liehtin.', including the intermittent and flashing ights,
Sd the mast lantern for ships. Inhis general practice as
a civil engineer he was employed m the^ construction of
many county roads, in various important improvements in
nn'exion with the approaches to Edinburgh, including
that by the Gallon Hill, in the erection of slips a fer les,
in the construction of harbours, docks, and breakwaters,
in the improvement of river and canal navigation and in
the construction of several important bridges. It ^^^ j^^
that brought into notice the superiority of ma leable i on
rods for i"ailways over the old cast iron, and he was the
inventor of the movable jib and balance cranes. It was
chiefly through his interposition that an Admiralty survey
was established, from which the Admiralty sailing direc-
tions for the coasts of Great Britain and reland "ave been
prepared. Stevenson was elected a fellow of the Royal
Society of Edinburgh in 1815, and afterwards became a
member of the Geological and Astronomical Societies o
London and the Wcrnerian and Antiquarian Societies o
Scotland. Ho published an account of the Loll Rock
lighthouse in 1821, and, besides contributing important
articles on engineering subjects to Brewster ,s ^c/uiinrvA
Eno/doptcdia and the Encydoprndia Jirrinnmca, was tho
author of various papers read before the societies he was
connected with. Ho died at Edinburgh 12th July IB.iO.
\ U/e of nobcrt Skvcnsou. by Ins »o» David Stovcnson
a,,p.a.i n. 1878. David Stovcn.on (1815-86). who along with
his brother Alan succeeded to his father's business, was the authoi
0 a «S o} the Civil Engineering of KoHh ^r„cn..x (18 8 re-
m.blished in "Weale's Series," 1S59), Mari^xc Snrxcyxngmn),
Knal aid River Engineering (1858; 2d ed. enlarged. 18r2: 3d
ed 1SS6) and of various papers read before learned societies.
STEVINUS, Simon (1548-1620). This great mathe-
matician was born in 1548 at Bruges (wliere the Place
Simon Stevin contains his statue by Eugen Simonis) and
diod iu 1620 at The Hague or in Leydcn. Of the circum-
stances of his life very little is recorded ; the exact day of
bis birth and the day and place of his death are alike
uncertain. It is known that he left a widow ^vith two
children- and one or two hints scattered throughout his
works inform us that he began life as a merchants clerk
in Antwerp, that he travelled in Poland, Denmark,; and
other parts of northern Europe, and that he was intimate
with Prince Maurice of Orange, who asked his advice on
many occasions, and made him a public officer.--at hrst
director of the so-called " waterstaet," and afterwards
quartermaster-general. The question whether Stevinus
like most of the rest of the prince's followers, belonged to
the Protestant creed hardly admits of a categorical answer.
A Catholic, it may be said, would never in those times
liave risen to so high a position. A Catholic would per-
haps not have been so rea'dy as Stevinus to deny the value
of all authority, whether of an Aristotle of an Euclid or of
a Vi'ruviiK. \ Catholic could not well have boasted, as
Stevinus in a political pamphlet did, that he had always
been in harmony with the executive power. But against
these considerations it might be urged that a Protes ant
had no occasion to boast of a harmony most natural to
him while his further remark, in the same pamphlet to
the effect that a state church is indispensable, and that
those who cannot belong to it on conscientious grounds
ought to leave the country rather than show ^ny opposit on
to its rites, seems rather to indicate the crypto-Catho he,
who wishes for reasons of his own to remain m he
Netherlands. The same conclusion is supported by tho
■ ascertained fact that Stevinus, a year before t's death
bequeathed a pious legacy to the church of ^^ estkerke m
Fknder. nut of the revenues of which masses were to be
said But, however it may be answered, the question is
fortunately of little importance to us, as Stevinus was
neither a political personage nor did he engage in religious
controversy. He was mainly, as already said, a great
matl ei^aidan, and it is chiefly in this quality tha we
n us tTy to ge acquainted with him. H s claims to fame
are most varied. Some of them appealed strongly to the
men of his time, but many were such as could not wel be
"nderstood by most of his contemporaries, and have found
due acKnouieugment only in later times.
His contemporaries were most struck by his invention
ofacarria-e with sails, a little model of which was pre-
rved aTscheveningen till 1802. 'l"'- ^S/- >tr
been lost long before ; but wc know that about the jear
1600 Stevinus with Prince Maurice of Orance and twenty-
ifotlS made use ot it on tho --shore between Scheven-
inrren and Petten, that it was propelled solely by the lorce
thought fitted for a ""'^"•'''', =^"8^ words
546
S T K — S T E
temporaries m admiring these claims to fame, but it has
discovered in Stevinus's works various inventions which
did not at once receive the notice they deserved. He was
the first to show how to fashioa regular and semiregular
polyhedra by delineating their frames in a plane. Stev-
inus also distinguished stable from unstable equilibrium.
He proved the law of the equilibrium on an inclined
plane. He demonstrated before Varignon the resolution of
torces, which, simple consequence of the law of their com-
posi ion though It IS had not been previously remarked.
He discovered the hydrostatic paradox that the downward
ZHT^ ^ / '^?'^ '? independent of the shape of the
^essel and depends only on its height and base. He also
t\e .id/nT''"" f 't^ P^^^^""-'^ °° ^"y Sn-en portion of
rnV X M'''' • ^' ^^"^ '''« '^ea of explaining the
tides by the attraction of the moon. °
imSortTrf "' 1° ^""-""^'^ those claims of Stevinus to
immortality which were recognized from the first and
which succeeding ages have not lessened,-his writings on
mihary science, on book-keeping, and on decimal fractions,
mat the man who was quartermaster-general to
Maunce of Orange should have been possessed of more
than ordinary merit, and have left behind him military
papers of lasting value, is hardly more than might have
been expected This expectation, in the case of Stevinus
at least, is fully borne out in the opinion of competent
judges. Pnnce Maurice is known as the man who con-
quered the greatest number of fortresses in the shortest
ume, and lortification was the principal aim of his adviser
Stevinus seems to be the first who made it an axiom that
strongholds are only to be defended by artillery, the
defence before his time having relied mostly on small fire-
arms He wrote upon temporary fortifications, but the
excellence of his system was -only slowly discerned.- He
was the inventor of defence by a system of sluices, which
proved of the highest importance for the Netherlands
His plea for the teaching of the science of fortification in
universities, and the existence of such lectures in Leyden
iiave led to the impression that he himself filled this chair •
but the behef is quite erroneous, as Stevinus, thouL'h
iiving at Leyden, never had direct relations with its uni-
versity.
Book-keeping by double entry may have been known to
btevinus as clerk at Antwerp either practically or through
the naedium of the works of Italian authors like Paccioli
and Cardan. He, however, was the first to recommend
tfie use of impersonal accounts in the national household
He practised it for Maurice, and recommended it in a small
pamphlet to Sully the French statesman; and, if public
book-keeping has grown more and more lucid by the intro-
duction of impersonal accounts, it is certainly to Stevinus
that the credit of the improvement is diie.
His greatest success, however, was a small pamphlet,
first published in Dutch in 1586, and not exceeding
seven pages in the French translation (which alone we
have seen). This translation is entitled La Disme, enseign-
antfacilement expedier par Nomhres Entiers sam rompuz,
tousComptes se rencontrans aux Affaires des ffommcs.
Uecimal fractions had been employed for the extraction
ot square roots some five centuries before his time but
nobody before Stevinus established their daily use • and
BO well aware was he of the importance of his innovation
that he declared the universal introduction of decimal
coinage, measures, and weights to be only a question of
time. His notation is rather unwieldy. The point
separating the integers from the decimal fractions seems
to be the invention of BarthoIomKus Pitiscus, in whose
trigonometrical tables (1612) we have found it, and it
was accepted by Napier in his logarithmic papers (16U
and 1619). Stevinus orinted little circles round the ex-
ponents of the different powers of one-tenth. For instance,
ZVri T -'"'"'"^ 237 0 5 CO 7 0 8 0 ; and the
tact that Stevinus meant those encircled numerals to de-
note mere exponents is evident from his employing the
very same sign for powers of algebraic quantities, %.^.;
9 0 - U 0 + C 0 - 5 to denote 9x* - Ux^ -i- 6x - 5.
Ho does not even avoid fractional exponents ("Kacine
cubique de 0 serait | en circle"), and is ignorant only
of negative exponents. Powers and exponents have also
been earned back to a period several centuries earlier than
Stevinus, and it is not here intended to give him any undue
credit for having maintained them ; but we believe it ought
to be recognized more than it generallv is, that for our
author there was a connexion between 'algebraic powers
and decimal fractions, and that even here Stevinus the pro-
found theorist is not lost to view behind Stevinus the man
of brilliant practical talents. (m. ca.)
STEWART, or Stuaet. For the royal house" of this
name, see Stuaet.
STEWART, DuGALD (1753-1828), one of the most
influential of tho Scottish philosophers, was born at
Edinburgh on the 22d of November 1753. His father,
Matthew Stewart (1715-85), was professor of mathematics
in the university of Edinburgh from 17-47 till 1772, and
was an eminent investigator in his own department,
applying the geometrical methods of Simson, who had been
his teacher in Glasgow. Dugald Stewart's early years
were passed partly in Edinburgh and partly at Catrine in
Ayrshire, where his father had a small property, to which
the family removed every summer on the close of the
academical session. Burns was an occasional visitor at
Catrine, which is only a few miles from Mossgiel ; and the
philosopher and the poet had various meetings as well
as some slight correspondence in later years. Dugald
Stewart was educated at the high school and university of
his native town. At school he laid the foundation of the
classical knowledge and literary taste which are con-
spicuous in his works, and which lent a charm to his
prelections. At the university his chief subjects were the
mathematical sciences— in which he attained great pro-
ficiency—and philosophy. Adam Ferguson, the historian
01 the Roman republic, was then professor of moral philo-
so])hy in Edinburgh, and his bracing ideal of ethical and
political virtue commended itself highly to Stewart. In
177J, having thoughts of entering the English Church,
Stewart proceeded to Glasgow with a view to the Snell
exhibitions tenable by Glasgow students at Oxford. Here
he listened to the lectures of Reid, whose Liqtiiry, pub-
lished seven years before, had laid the effective founda-
tion of what is called distinctively the Scottish philosophy.
Reid became Stewart's acknowledged master and also his
friend, while Stewart's academic eloquence and powers of
elegant exposition gained for. their common doctrines a
much wider acceptance than they could have secured in
the clumsier ard less attractive presentation of Reid him-
self. In Glasgow Stewart boarded in the same house
with Archibald Alison, afterwards author of the Essay on
Taste, and a close friendship sprang up between them,
which remained unbroken through life. After no more
than a single session in Glasgow, Dugald Stewart was
summoned by his father, whoso health was beginning to
fail, to conduct the mathematical classes in the university
o^Edinburgh. Though only nineteen years of age he
disT^iarged his duties with marked ability and success;
and after acting three years as his father's substitute he
was elected professor of mathematics in conjunction with
him in 1775. Three years later Adam Ferguson was
appointed secretary to the commissioners sent out
to the American colonies, and at his urgent request
S T E — S T E
547
Stewart lectured as liis substitute. Thus during the
session 1778-79, in addition to his mathematical work, lie
delivered an original course of lectures on morals. " To
this season," says his son, " he always referred as the
most laborious of his life ; and such was the exhaustion
of the body from the intense and continued stretch of the
mind that on his departure for London at the close of
the academical session it was necessary to lift him into
the carriage." In 17S3 Stewart married Uelen Baniia-
tyne, who died in 17S7, leaving an only son, Colonel
JIatthew Stewart, from whose short memoir of his father
the above is a quotation.
In 1785, on the resignation of Ferguson, he was trans-
ferred to the chair of moral philosophy, which he filled for
a quarter of a century and made a notable centre of intel-
lectual and moral influence. Young men of rank and of
parts were attracted by his reputation from England, and
even from the Continent and America. A very large
number of men who afterwards rose to eminence in litera-
ture or in the service of the state were thus among his
students. Sir Walter Scott, Jeffrey, Cockburn, Francis
Horner, Sydney Smith, Lord Brougham, Dr Thomas
Brown, James Mill, Sir James Mackintosh, and Sir Archi-
.bald Alison may be mentioned among others. There is
a unanimous testimony to the attractive eloquence of
Stewart's lectures and the moral elevation of his teaching.
" Dugald Stewart," says Lord Cockburn, "was one of
the greatest of didactic orators. Had he lived in ancient
times, his memory would have descended to us as that of
one of the finest of the old eloquent sages. No intelligent
pupil of his ever ceased to respect philosophy, or was ever
false to his principles, without feeling the crime aggra-
vated by the recollection of the morality that Stewart
had taught him." Dr John Thomson, afterwards medical
professor in Edinburgh, was accustomed to say that the
two things by which he had been most impressed in the
course of his life were the acting of Mrs Siddons and
the oratory of Dugald Stewart. Lord Cockburn, in his
Memorials, has left an interesting portraiture of Stewart's
appearance and manner : — " Stewart was about the middle
size, weakly-limbed, and with an appearance of feebleness
which gave an air of delicacy to his gait and structure.
His forehead was large and bald, his eyebrows bushy, his
eyes grey and intelligent, and capable of conveying any
emotion from indignation to pity, from serene sense to
hearty humour, in w-hich they were powerfully aided by
his lips, which, though rather large perhaps, were flexible
and expressive. The voice was singularly pleasing ; and,
as he managed it, a slight burr only made its tones softer.
His ear, both for music and for speech, was exquisite ;
and he was the finest reader I have ever hoard. His
gesture was simple and elegant, though not free from a
tinge of professional formality ; and his whole manner
was that of an academical gentleman, .... calm and
expository, but ri.sing into greatness or softening into
tenderness whenever his subject required it." The course
on moral philosophy embraced, besides ethics proper,
lectures on political pliilosophy or the theory of govern-
ment, and from 1800 onwards a sepT-atp oonrse-of lectures
was delivered on political economy. These last were
extremely important in spreading a knowledge of the
fundamental principles of the science at a time when they
were still almost unknown to the general public. Stewart's
enlightened political teaching was sufficient, in the times
of reaction succeeding the French Revolution, to draw
upon him the undeserved suspicion of disaffection to the
eonst tution.
In 1790 Stewart married a second time. Miss Cran-
ertoun. who became his wife, was a lady of birth and accom-
plishments, and ho was in the habit of submitting to her
criticism wha'ever he w;ott;. A son a«d a daughter were
the issue ot this marriage. The death of the former in
1809 was a severe blow to the failing health of his father,
and was the immediate cause of hi.s retirement from the
active duties of his chair, Refore that, however, Stewart
had not been idle as an author. In 1792 he published the
first volume of the Etimeiil.t of the P/tilomp/iy of ike Human
Mind; the second volume appeared in 1811, and the third
not till 1827. In 1793 he printed a text-book, Onllines
of Jfura! I'liilo.'iiiphi/, which went through many editions;
and in the .vanie jear he read before the Royal Society of
Edinburgh his account of the Life and Wridnr/s of Adam
Smith. Similar memoirs of Robertson the historian and of
Reid wore ai'tcrwards read before the same body and appear
in his published works. In 1805 Stewart took an active
part in what was known as the Leslie case, that is to say,
the public controversy arising out of the appointment of
Mr (afterwards Sir John) Leslie to the chair of mathe-
matics in the university of Edinburgh. Leslie waa
attacked by the presbytery of Edinburgh, ostensibly on
account of his views on the nature of causal connexion,
which were said to approximate to Hume's. In two
pamphlets Stewart defended Leslie's doctrine as philo-
sophically tenable and theologically innocuous. In 1806
he received in lieu of a pension the nominal office of the
writership of the Edinburgh Gazette, with a salary of
£300. When the shock of his. son's death incapacitated
him from lecturing during the session of 1809-10, hia
place was taken, at his own request, by Dr Thomas Brown,
who in 1810 was appointed conjoint professor. On the
death of Brown in 1820, Stewart, who had taken no
further active part in lecturing, retired altogether from
the professorship, which was conferred upon John Wilson,
better known as "Christopher North." From 1809 onwards
Stewart lived mainly at Kinneil House, Linlithgowshire,
which was placM at his disposal by the duke of Hamilton-
From this retirement he continued to send forth a succes-
sion of works. In 1810 appeared Philosophical Es-ays, in
1814 the second volume of the Elements, in 1815 the first
part and in 1821 the second part of the "Dissertation"
written for the Encyclopxdia Britannica " Supplp.ment,"
entitled "A General View of the Progress of Jletaphysi-
cal. Ethical, and Political Philosophy since the Revival of
Letters." In 1822 he was struck with paralysis, but re
covered a fair degree of health, sufficient to enable him
to resume his studies. In 1827 ho published the third
volume .of the Elements, and in 1828, a few weeks before
his death. The Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers.
He died in Edinburgh after a short illness on the 11th of
June 1828. A monument to his memory was erected on
the Calton Hill by his friends and admirers.
An edition of his Collected Works, in eleven volumes (1854-68),
was edited by Sir William Hamilton, on whose death in 1856 it
was carried to completion and furnislied with a memoir ot Stewart
by I'rof. Veitch. Stewart was an elegant writer rather than a
profound or ori^'inal thinker, and he cannot be said to have added
mucli to tlie pliilosophy of Ueid (see Keid), though he contributed
very largely to its dissemination. Hispsycholocical observations,
liowcver, are acute and varied, and liis general powers of mind.
contiibuted largely to elevate the study of philosophy in the United
Kingdom. His reputation rests more upon the tradition of hid
inspiring and elevating eloquence than upon any deliuito achioT«4
ments within the province of philosophy proper. (A. SE.)
STEYR, Steieb, or Steyer, an industrial town in
Upper Austria, is situated on an island at the junction
of the Steyr and Enns, 20 miles to the south of Linz and
92 miles to the west-south-west of Vienna. The niniu
town is connected by two bridges with the suburbs of
Steyrdorf and Ennsdorf. The Gothic parish church was
built in 1443 ; tho town-houso is modern. The interest-
ing old castle of tho princes of Lambcrg, dating from the
10th century, rises on an eminence near tho town. Stoyr
548
S T 1— S T I
is one of the chief seats of the iron and steel industry in
Upper Austria (Austria, vol. iii. p. 120), and very large
quantities of cutlery, scythes, sickles, and edge-tools are
annually produced in the^ town and neighbourhood. The
VVerndl small-arms factory, now carried on by a joint-
stoclc company, and employing 4-")00 hands, is the largest
in Austria. The population in ISSO was 17,199. Steyr
was the capital of an early countship or grafschaft, at first
belonging to Styria, but annexed to Austiia in 1192.
STICKLEBACK is the name applied to a group of small
fishes (Gaslrosteziii) which iuhabit the fresh and brackisli
waters as well as the coasts of the temperate zone of the
northern hemisphere. Although some of tlie species live
chiefly either in fresh or in salt water, they readily accom-
modate themselves to a change, and, as far as the European
kinds are concerned, all may be met with in the brackish
water of certain littoral districts. The majority liave a
compressed well-proportioned body, which in the marine
species is of a more elongate form, leading "to the allied
group of Flute-ilouths {Fuiulariirlie), whi^h are, in fact,
gigantic marine sticklebacks. Their mouth is of moderate
width, oblique, and armed with small but firmly set teeth.
But their most distinctive characteristic consists in the
armature of their head and body. The head is nearly
entirely protected by hard bone ; even the cheeks, which
in the majority of fishes are covered with a naked or
scaly skin, are in this genus cuirassed by the dilated
infraorbital bones. There are no scales developed on any
part of the body, but a series of hard and large scutes
protects a greater or lesser portion of the sides. The first
dor.sal fin and the ventrals are transformed into pointed
formidable spines, and joined to firm bony plates of the
endcskeleton. With regard to the degree in which this
armature is developed, not only do the species differ from
each other, but almost every species shows an extraordi-
nary amount of variation, so that some older naturalists
have distinguished a multitude of species, whilst the
majority of the present day are inclined to reduce their
number considerably. About ten kinds may be taken to
be specifically distinct.
So far as is known at present, all sticklebacks construct
a nest for the reception of the spawn, which is jealously
guarded by the male until the young are hatched, which
event takes place in from ten to eighteen days after
oviposition. He also protects them for the first few days
of their existence, and provides them with food, until they
gradually stray from their home. The constructien of the
nest varies in the different species.
Sticklebacks are short-lived animals ; they are said to
reach an age of only three or four years ; yet their short
life,^ at least that of the males, is full of excitement.
During the first jear of their existence, before the breed-
ing-season begins, they live in small companies in still
pools or gently flowing brooks. But with the return of
the warmer season each male selects a territory, which
he fiercely defends against all comers, especially against
intruders of his o\vn species and sex, and to which he
invites all females, until the nest is filled with ova. At
this period he also assumes a bridal dress, painted with
blue and red tints. The eggs are of comparatively large
size, one female depositing only from 50 to 100; but, as
the females deposit their spawn in nests of different males,
the number of ova contained in one nest does not exceed
one hundred.
Of tlie species known not one lias so wide a geographical i<inge,
and has so well been studied, as the common British Three-
Spined Stickleback (Gaslrosteus aculcah/s). It is found everywhere
in northern and central Europe, nortliern A»W and North America.
The development of its scutes and spines varies exceedingly, and
specimens may be found without any lateral scutes and witli short
spines, others with only a few scutes and moderately sized spines.
and again othcr.=; wliirli pas.sess a cnnijilcte row of scutes from the
head to the caudal fin. and in which the fin-spines arc twice as
long and sln.ngas in oth.-r varieties. On the whole, the smooth
varieties arc more nunK-nms in .southern than in northern local-
ities. This species siwarnis in seme years in prodigious nuini
Gastroslcus n.ci'.kntns, var. novchoruccnsis, Tliree-Spincd .Stickleback
hers; in Pennant's time amazing shoals appeared in tho fens
of Lincolnshire every i^even or eight ycnis. Their numbers may
perhaps be conci-ivcJ from the fact that a man employed in
collecting them gained, for a coiisidcrable time, four shillings a
day by selling them at the rate of a halfpenny a bushel. No
instance of a similar increase of tliis fish has been observed in our
time, and this possibly may be due to the diminished number of
suitable breeding-places in consecpicnce of the general introduc-
tion of artilicial iirainage. This species usually constructs its nest
on the bottom, c.'ccavating a hollow in which a bed of grass, rootlets,
or fibres is prcp.ned ; walls are then raised, and the whole is roofeil
over with the like material. The nest is an inch and more in
diameter, with a small aperture for an entrance.
The Tcn-S[iini?d Stickleback \Oaslrostcus pun'jllius) is .so called
from the number of sjiines usually comiiosing its fiist dorsal fin,
which, however, nuiy be sometimes reduced to eight or nine or
increased to eleven. It is smaller than tho three-spined species,
rarely exceeding 2 inches in length. Its geographical range
nearly coincides with that of the other species, but it is more
locally distributed, and its range in northern Asia is not known.
With regard to its habits, it diticrs from the common s))ecies only
in the selection of the site for its nest, which is generally placed
among weeds above the bottom of the water, iireeding males
are readily recognized at a distance by the intensely black colour
of tlie lower parts of their body.
Both these species are for their size extremely voracious, causing
no small amount of injury if allowed in breeding-ponds in which
valuable fish are preserved. During the whole time they are not
engaged in their breeding operations they are in pursuit of feed.
A small stickleback kejit in an aquarium devoured, in five hours'
time, seventy-four newly-hatched dace, which were about a quarter
of an inch long. Two days after it swallowed sixty-two, and
would probably have eaten as many every day, could they have
been procured.
The Sea Stickleback (Gaslrosteus spinachia) is a much larger and
more slender sjiecics than those ntentioned ; it attains to a length
of 7 inches, and is armed with fifteen short spines on the back. It
is extromc'ly common round the Tiritish coasts, but never con-
gregates in large shoals. At suitable localities of the coast which
are sheltered from the waves and overgrown with sea-weed, espe-
cially in rock-pools, one or two males establish themselves \\ith
their harems, and m.ay be observed without difficulty, being quite
as fearless as their freshwater cousins. Haibours and shallows
covered with Zoslcra are likewise, favourite haunts of this species,
although the water ni.ay be brackish. The nest is always firmly
attached to sea-weed, and sometimes suspended from an over-
hanging frond. This species inhabits only tho northern coasts of
Europe.
STIGMATIZATION, literally the infliction of stigmata,
i.e., marks tattooed or branded on the person, the term
used with specific reference to the infliction of wounds
like those of Christ.
An ancient and widespread method of show^ing tribal
connexiorf, or relation to tribal deities, is by marks set
upon the person ; thus Herodotus, in describing a temple
of Hercules in Egypt (ii. 113), says that it is not lawful to
capture runaway slaves who take refuge therein if they
receive certain marks on their bodies, devoting them to
the deity. Some such idea is perhaps alluded to by Panl
(Gal. vi. 17) in the words, "from henceforth let no man
trouble rae, for I bear branded on my body the stigmata
of Jesus "; and some few authors have even understood the
passage as referring to stigmatization in the modern sense
(Molanus, De llistoria SS. Imagimim et Picturarum, ed.
Paquot, iii. 43, p. 365). Branding, as indicative of servi-
iSTIGMATIZATION
tdde. ".3 >.^e»tic^lecr In «iany of the classics (Pliny, //■ -^-i
xviii. 3 ; Varro, De Re RuMca, i. 18 ; Suetonius, Caligula,
xxv'.i. <fco.), and was forbidden by Constantine.
In the ijeriod of peisetation Christian martyrs were
sometimes branded with thv^ name of Christ on their fore-
beads (Pontius, " De Vit. S. Cypriani," Bibliolh. Velenim
Palrum, iii. p. 472, § vii.). This was sometimes self-
inflicted as a disfigurement by nuns for their protection,
as in the case of St Ebba, abbess of Coldingham (see
Baronius, Anunle!', xv. p. 215, anno 870, also Tert, De
Vet Viry.). Some Christians likewise marked themselves
on their hands or arms with the cross or the name of
Christ (Procopius, In Esaiam, ed. Curterius, p. 496), and
other voluntary mutilations for Christ's sake are men-
tioned (Matt. xix. 12; Fortunatus, Life of St Rhadegund,
ed. Migne, col. 508; Palladius, Lausiac History, csii. ;
Jerome's Letter to St -Eustochium, &e.).
In the life of St Francis of Assisi we ha,ve the first
example of the alleged miraculous infliction of stigmata
(see vol. ix. p. 692). While meditating on the sufferings
of our Lord, in his cell on Mount Alverno, we are told by
his biographers, Thomas of Celano and Bonaventura, that
the Lord appeared to him as a seraph and produced upon
his body the five wounds of Christ ; of these we are told
that the side wound bled occasionally, though Bonaven-
tura calls it a scar, and the wounds in the feet had the
appearance and colour of nails thrust through. After his
death St Clare endeavoured but in vain to extract one of
these. Pope Alexander IV. and other witnesses declared
that they had seen these marks both before and after his
death (Raynaldus, ad annum 1255, p. 27). The divinely-
attested, ssnctity of their founder gave to the newly-
established order of Franciscans a powerful impulse, so
that they soon equalled and threatened to overshadow in
influence the previously-founded order of St Dominic.
The reputation of the latter order was, however, equally
raised in the next century by the occurrence of the same
v/onder in the case of a sister of the third rule of St
Dominic, Catherine Benincasa, -^better known as St
Catherine of Siena. From her biographer's account \¥e
gather that she was subject to hystero-epileptic attacks, in
one of -which, when she was twenty-three years old, she re-
ceived the first stigma (see vol. v. p. 30). In spite of her
great reputation, and tho number of attesting witnesses,
this occurrence was not universally believed in. Pope
Sixtus IV. published a bull in 1475 ordering, on pain of
anathema, the erasure of stigmata from pictures of St
Catherine, and prohibiting all expressions of belief in the
occurrence. Pope Innocent VIII. similarly legislated " ne
de csetero S. Catheriua cum stigmatibus depingatur;
neve de ejus stigmatibus fiat verbum, aut sermo, vel pr.oe-
dicatio ad tollendara omnem scandali occasionem" (see
references in Raynaud, De Stigmatisme, cap. xi., 1665). In
the years which followed, cases of stigraatir.ation occurred
thick and fast, — now a Franciscan, now a Dominican, very
rarely a religieuse of another order, showing the marks.
Altogether about ninety instances are on record, of which
eighteen were males and seventy-two females: Most of
them occurred among residents in religious houses, and
took place after the austerities of Lent, usually on Good
Friday, when the mind was intently fixed on our Lord's
Pasjsion ; and, from their occurrence being for the most
pai t among members of the two orders to which St Francis
and St Catherine belonged, the possibility of the recep-
tion of the marks was constantly before their eyes and
thoughts. The order of infliction in the majority of cases
was that of the crucifixion, the first token being a bloody
sweat, followed by the coronation with thorns; after-
wards the hand and foot wounds appear, that of the side
beiug the last. The grade of the infliction varied in
549
individual cases, and they may be grouped in the follow-
ing series : —
I. As regards full stigmatization, with the visible production of
the five wounds, and generally with the mark of the crown as well,
the oldest case, after St Francis, is that of Ida of Louvain (1300),
in whom the marks appeared as coloured circles; in Gertrude von
Oosten of Delft (1344) tliey were coloured scars, and disappeared
in answer to prayer as they also did on Dominica de Paradis; in
Sister Pierona, a'Franciscan, they were blackish grey. They were
true wounds in Margaret Ebneriu of Nuremberg (d. 1351), but
they also disappeared in answer to her prayer (see her Life, Augs-
burg, 1717), as was the case with iJrigitta, a Dominican tertiary
(1390), and also with Lidwiua. An intermission is described in the
marks on Johanna della Croce of Madrid (1524), in whom the wound
in the side was large, and the others were rose-coloured circular
patches. The marks appeared ou each Friday and vanished on
Sunday. These emitted an odour of violets ; but in Sister Apolr
Ionia of Volaterra they were fetid while she lived. Angela dilla
Pace (1634) was fully stigmatized at nine years of age, being even
marked with the sponge and hyssop on the mouth; while Joanna
de Jesu-Maria at Burgos (1613), a widow, who had entered the
convent of Poor Clares, was marked iu her sixtieth year. To her
in vision two crowns were offered, — one of (lowers and one of
thorns; she chose the latter and immediately was seized with such
pain that her confessor heard her skull cracking. This case was
investigated by tlie officers of the Inquisition. T1ie stigmatization
of Veronica Giuliani (1696) was also the subject of inquiry, and in
this case the nun drew on a paper a representation of the images
which she said were engraved on her heart. Ou a post-mortem
examination being made in 1727 by Prof. Gentih and Dr Bonliga,
the image of the cross, the scourge, &c., were said to have been
impressed on the right side of the organ {Vita delta Veronica
Giuliani, by Salvatori, Rome, 1803). The case of Christina Stum-
belen, a Dominican at Cologne, i»noteworthy, ason_ her skull thei-e
was found a r.iised ridge or crown which was at first green, with
red dots. This relic is still preserved. In Lucia di Narni (1546)
the marks were vaiiable, ns they aUo were on Sister Maria di S.
Dominico. On the body of St Margaret of Hungary the stigmata
were found fresh and clear when her body was exhumed some time
after her death for transpoi-tation to Presburg. Other stigmatized
peisons were Elizabeth von Spalbeck, a Cistercian ; Sister Coleta,
a Poor Clare; Matilda von Stanz; Margaret Bruch of Endnngeu
(l.^OS); Maria Razzi of Chios (1582); Catharina Januensis; Eliza-
bev.h Keith of Allgau ; Stiova zu Hamm in Westphalia; Sister Mary
of the Incartiation at Poutoise ; Archangcla Tardera in Sicily (1608) ;
Catharina Ricci in Florence (1590); and Joanna Maria della Croce,
a Poor Clare at Roveredo (d. 1673), upon whom the markings of tho
thorn crown and spear wound were especially deep.
II. In some cases, although the pains of stigmatization were felt,
there were no marks apparent. This occurred to Helen Brumsen
(1285); Helena of Hungary (1270); Osanna of Mantua (1476);
Columba Roc-.sani ; Magdalenade Pazzis; Anna of Vargas; Iliero-
nyma Carvaglio; Maria of Lisbon, a Dominican; Joanna di Ver-
celli- Stephania Soncinas, a Franciscan; Sister Christina, a Car-
thusian ; and Joanna Rodriguez, a Poor Clare. In the case of Ui-sula
A'uir de Valenza, a tertiary of St Dominic (1608), and Catharine
Cmlina (d. 1619) the pain was chiefly that of tho crown of thorns,
as it was also in Amelia Bicchieri of Vercelli, an Augustinian.
Ill In a third scries some of the marks were visible on the
body while others were absent or only subjectively indicated by
severe pains The crown of thorns only was marked on the head
of Vincentia Ferreiia at Valencia (d. 1515) and Philippa do Santo
Tomaso of Montcn.or (1670), while according to Torellus tho
Augustinian Ritta von Cassia (d. 1430) had a single thorn wound
on tlie foreheaa. The crown was marked on Catharina ol Raconizio
(b 1486) wbo' also suffered a severe bloody sweat. In the case of
Stephano Quinzani, in Sonuino (1457), there was a profuse bloody
sweat and the wounds were intermitting, appearing on Friday
and Saturday, vanishing on Sunday. Blanche Gazinan, daughlcr
of Count Arias do Sagavedra (1564), was marked only on tho rigfit
foot,' as also was Catherine, a Cistercian nun. The heart wonml
was visible in Christina Mirabilis (1232). Gabnclda de Puzolo
(d 1473) died from tho bleeding of such a wound, and similar
wounds were described in MarTa de Acosrin in Toledo; bustochia,
a tertiary of St Francis; Clara do Bugny, a Domiuiran (1514);
Cecilia Nobili, ft Poor Clare of Kuceria (d. 1655). In tho I.is
instance the heart wound was found after death-a three-cornered
puncture. A similar wound was seen in tho heart of Martina do
Arilia (d. 1644). Muria Villana, a Poor Clare, daughter of tlie
mar^ave of La Pella, was marked with the crown and tho spear
thrust, and after death the impresses of the spear, sponge, and
reed were found on her heart (d. 1070). The wound was usually
ou the loft side, ns in Sister Masrona of Grenoble, a tirtiary of .St
Francia (1627) ; it was on the right in Margareta Columna, ulso a
Clare. In Maria de Sarraiento it was said to have beou milictca
by a seraph in a vision.
550
« T I — S T I
IV. In a fourth Sft of cn=;es the imprints -svere said to nare heen
fouiul oil tlif lii'ait. oven tllou^'h tliere uas no surface marking.
friius tlu' l)oiuinii-au Taula dc St Tlioma!: was saiil to liave hail tlie
sti.^mata ou her lie;irt. Tlie Iicart of Clnie of Montfaucon (130s)
was snicl to liave hccn as hirge as a child's head aud imprcsscil
witli the cross, the scourge, and tlie nails. Similar appearances
were found in JIargarct oC Citta di Capello and Johanna of Yepes
(1591).
The instances of masculine stigmatization are few.
Benedict di Ehegio, a Capuchin at Bologna, had the
marks of the crown (1G02) ; Carolus Sazia, an ignorant
lay brother, had the wound in his side. Uodo, a Prce-
monstratensian lay brother, was full}" stigmatized, as also
was Philip de Aqueria. The marks after death were found
on the heart of Angelos del Pas, a minorite of Perpignan,
as also on Mathco Carery in ifantua, Melchior of Arazel
in Yalentia, Cherubin de Aviliana (an Augustinian), and
Agolini of !Milan. Walter of Strasburg, a preaching friar
(126 4), had the heart-pain but no mark, and the same was
the case with a Franciscan, Robert de Jlalatestis (1 430), and
James Stephanus. On Nicholas of Ravenna the wounds
were seen after death, while John Gray, a Scotsman, a
Franciscan martyr, had one wound on his foot.
Within the last hundred years several cases have
occurred. " Anna Kathariiia Emmerich, a peasant girl born
at ' Jliinster in 1774, afterwards an Augustinian nun at
Agnetenberg, was even more famous for her visions and
revelations than for the stigmata. Biographies, with records
of her visions, have been published by Brentano at
Munich in 1852 and the Abbe Cazalfes at Paris (1870).
Colombe Schanolt of Bamberg (1787) was fully stigma-
tized, as also was Rose Serra, a Capuchin of Ozieri in
Sardinia (1801), and iladeleine Lorger (1806). Two well-
known cases occurred in Tyrol, — one "L'Ecstatica" JIaria
Fori Jlurl of Caldaro, a girl of noble family, stigmatized
in 1839, the other " L'Addolorata " JIaria Dominica
Lazzari, a miller's daughter at Capriana, stigmatized in
183-5 (see Bore, Zfs Slic/malisies du Tyrol, Paris, 1846).
A case of the second class is that of Elizabeth Eppinger
t)f 'Niederbrunn in Bavaria (1814), reported on by Kuhn.
An interesting example of stigmatic trance also occurred
ta the' case' of a Protestant young woman in Saxony in
1820, who appeared as if dead on Good Friday and Satur-
day and revived on Easter Sunday.
The last case recorded is that of Louise Lateau, a
peasant girl at Bois de Haine, Hainault, upon whom the
stigmata appeared April 24, 1868. This case was investi-
gated by Professor Lefebvre of Louvain, who for fifteen
years was physician to two lunatic asjdums. In her there
was a periodic bleeding of the stigmata every Friday, and
a frequent recurrence of the hystero-cataleptic condition.
Per biography has been written bv Lefebvre and published
kt Louvain (1870).
On surveying these ninety cases, we may discount a
certain number, including all those of the second class, as
examples of subjective sensations suggested by the con-
l^emplation of the pains of crucifixion. A second set, of
which the famous case of Jetzer (Wirz, Helvetische.Kirchen-
^gesckichte, 1810, iii. p. 389) is a type, must be also set aside
BS obvious and intentional frauds produced on victims by
designing persons. A third series, and how large a group
^e have not sufficient evidence to decide, we must regard
as due to the irresponsible self-infliction of injuries by
persons in the hystero-epileptic condition, those perverted
states of nervous action which Charcot has done so much
to elucidate. To any experienced in this form of disease,
jmany of the phenomena described in the records of these
examples are easily recognizable as characteristic of the
Wstero-epileptio state.
There are, however, some instances not easily explained,
^ere the self-infiictioa hypothesis is not quite satisfactory.
Parallel cases of ))hysical effects due to mental suggesuon
are well authenticated. Beaunis vouches for rubefactioTi
and vesication as produced by suggestion in the hypnotic
state, and Bourru and Buret describe a case, still under
observation, of bloody sweat, and red letters marked on
the arm by simple tracing with the finger. See Congres
Srieiiiiiiqiie de GrenoUe. I'ror/res Medimle, 29 Aug. 1885,
and Berjon's Za Grande Hysleriechnl' Honviie, Paris, 1886.
We know so little of the trophic action of the higher nerve
centres that we cannot say how far tissue nutrition can be
controlled in spots. That the nerve centres have a direct
influence on local nutrition is in some cases capable of
experimental demonstration, and, in another sphere, the
many authenticated instances of connexion between
maternal impression and congenital deformity seem to
indicate that this trophic influence has wider limits and a
more sfjecific capacity of localization than at first sight
seems possible. There is.no known pathological condition
in which blood transudation can take place through an
unbroken skin.
Literal lire— See references to each name in Ada Savctornvi ex
Hueber, McnologiitiiiFraiidscanoruin, 1698 ; Henriquez, Meiiologinm
ciste rsicHsc ; Marchese, Snr/ro Diario ; Steill, Ephcmerides Domini-
cano Sacrie, Dillingen, 1692; fetrus de Alva y Astorga, Prodtgium
XatursR Porlcntiitm Giatix, Strasburg, 166i ; Thiepolus, De
Passions Chriiti, tract, xii. ; Meyer, Blatter fUr hohcre IVakrJicit,
vii. 5; ^Hurler, Tableau dcs Inslitutions ct des Moiurs del' £glise an
MoycnAijc, Paris, 1842; Corres, Die Christ! iehc Myslik, Ratisbon,
ii. p. 410 sj.; FranciscusQuaresmius, De Vvlneiibiis Domiiii,\emce,
1652, i. 4 ; Raynaud, Opera, vol. xiii., Lyons, 1665; Dublin Remeiir,
1871, p. 170 ; Jlaury, Matjie ct Astroloaie , Bcaunis, Eccherchcs cxp.
sur I AciivilJ. Ccrclrale, Paris, 1886 ; Bourbeyre, Les Stigmatise'cs,
Paris, 1886; 'EDncmosi;v, Der Jfagnctismus im Fcrhalt,nss zur Reli-
gion, Stuttgart, 1853, § 92; Tholuck's J'crmischte Schriflcn, Ham-
burg, 1839, p. 97 ; Schmieder, in Erang. Kirch eiizcilung, Berlin,
1S75, pp. 180, 345; Compics Eeiidus de la Societi de Biologic, 12lU
July 1S85." (A. JIA.)
STILICHO, Flavius, Eoman general and statesman,''
was of Vandal origin, and was born about 369 a.d. At an
early age he entered the imperial army, where his father
before him had servi,d under '\^aleni , and he speedily
attained high promotion. He had already become
magister equitum when in 384 he was sent by Theo-
dosius as his ambassador to Persia ; his mission was
very successful, and soon after his return he was made
comes domesticus and commander-in-chief, receiving also
in marriage Serena, the emperor's niece and adoptive
daughter. Theodosius, when dying, made Stilicho and
Serena the guardians of Honorius and his other children.
Honorius, in 398, was married to Stilicho's daughter
Maria, and in 408 to her sister Thermantia. -It was by
Stilicho that Alaric in 396 was compelled to quit the
Peloponnesus (see Alaric), and that in 398 the revolt
of the JIauretanian prince Gildo was repressed. Stilicho
again encountered Alaric at PoUentia in 402, and at
Verona in 403, compelling his retreat into Illyria, and was
rewarded with a triumph on his return to Rome. In
405 he almost .annihilated the army of Eadagaisus, the
leader of the Ostrogoths, at Fiesole. The arrangements
into which he subsequently entered with Alaric (see
Alaric) were made use of by his enemies to alienate the
emperor from him, and when at last revolt was the only
course that might possibly have saved him his continued
loyalty proved fatal. Abandoned by his troops he fled to
Ravenna, and, having been induced by false promises to
quit the church in which he had taken sanctuary, he was
beheaded on August 23, 408. Stilicho is the hero of much
of the poetry of Claudian {q.v.).
STILL, JoHX (c. 1543-1607), bishop of Bath and Wells,
and now best known as the probable author ("]\Ir S.,
Master of Arts") of Gammer Gurton's Needle, the earliest
comedy but one in the English language (see Drama, vol.
•Tii. p. 428), was a native of Grantham, Lincolnshire, and
S T I — S T I
551
was bora about 1543. He became a student of Christ s
College Cambridge, where he duly graduated and took
orders. He was appointed in 1570 Lady Margaret's pro-
fessor of divinity in his university, subsequently held livings
in Suffolk and Yorkshire, and was master successively of
St John's College (1574) and of Trinity College_(1577).
Still was raised to the bishopric of Bath and Wells in 159^
and after enjoying considerable fame as a preacher and
disputant, he died on February 26, 1607, leaving a large
fortune from lead mines discovered in the Mendip Hills.
STILLING, Heinrich. See Jung.
STILLINGFLEET, Edward (1635-1699), a con-
spicuous figure in the church of the Restoration, was
descended from the StiUingfleets of Stillingfleet, m the
neighbourhood of York, and was born at Cranboutne in
Dorset on the 17th April 1635. There and at Kingwood
be received his preliminary education, and at the age of
thirteen was entered at St John's College, Cambridge as
Isaac Barrow five years before and at the same age had
been entered at Peterhouse. He took his bachelor's degree
in 1652, and in the following year was elected to a
fellowship. After residing as tutor first in the family of
Sir Roger Burgoin in Warwickshire and then with the
Hon. Francis Pierrepont in Nottingham, he was in 1657
presented by the former to the living of Sutton in Bed-
fordshire. Here he brought to completion and published
(1659) his Irenicum, in which he sought to give expression
to the prevailing weariness of faction and to find some
ecclesiastical compromise in which all could conscientiously
unite Schemes of comprehension were then the most
familiar topics of conversation. There seemed every
probabiUty that a moderate Episcopacy might attract all
parties • and it was to be expected that a learned and able
scholar fresh from the atmosphere of Cambridge Platonism
should desire to help present entanglements towards a
Uberal solution. Much may still be learned from his
cogent and earnest, exposition of the great principle that it
ia unwarrantable for the church- to make other conditions
oi' her communion than our Saviour did of discipleship.
Ill 1662 he reprinted the Irenicum with an appendix, in
Wiich he sought to prove that "the church is a distinct
8(»;iety from the state, and has divers rights and privileges
of its own . . . resulting from its constitution as a Christian
society, and thit these rights of the church cannot be
aUenated to the state after their bsing united in a
Christian country." In the same year the country gave
its answer to his and all similar proposals in the Act ot
Uniformity which, by requiring that all clergymen should
be episcopally or(3iined and should use the revised liturgy,
lost to the church of England such men as Richard Baxter,
John Howe, and Philip Henry. StiUingfleet's actions
were as liberal as his opinions. He sheltered in his rectory
at Sutton one ejected minister and took for another a large
house to bo used as a school. But, as time wore on, his
liberalism degenerated and gave occasion to Howes
remark that the rector of Sutton was a very different
person from the dean of St Paul's. But, though in 1680
he published his Unreasonableness of Sep.. ration, his
willingness to serve on the ecclesiastical commi.ssion of
1681, and the interpretation he then proposed of the
damaatory clauses of the Athanasian creed, are proof that
to the end he leaned towards toleration. Another work
which Stillingfleet published in 1662 won for him the
confidence and admiration of his church. This was his
Ori'jines Sacm, or a Rational Account of the Christian
Faith as to the Truth and Divine Authority of the
Scriptures and the Matters therein contained. Rendered
obsolete though it be by the general advance of the
.iiscussion, this apologetic made a deep impression at
Ihe lime, and rapid preferment followed its publication.
Henchman, bishop of London, employed him to xmte a
vindication of Laud's answer to Fisher the Jesuit. In
1665 the earl of Southampton presented him to St
Andrew's, Holborn ; two years later he became prebend-
ary of St Paul's, in 1668 chaplain to Charles IL, in
1670 canon residentiary and in 1677 dean of St Paul's.
Finally but under different auspices, he was consecrated
bishop of Worcester 13th October 1689. During these
years he was ceaselessly engaged in controversy w_ith
Nonconformists, Romanists, Deists, and Sociiiians. HiS
unrivalled and various learning, his dialectical expertncss,
and his massive judgment rendered him a formidable
antagonist ; but the respect entertained for him by his
opponents was chiefly aroused by his recognued love of
truth and superiority to personal considerations. He had
the courage, along with the saintly and noble-minded Ken
and the other six bishops, to incur the anger of James II.
by resisting his proposed Declaration of Indulgence (1688).
Strancrely enough,- he crossed swords both with Dryden
and Locke,— with Dryden in connexion with the papers
favourable to the authority of the Church of Rome which
were found in the strong box of Charles II. and were
supposed to have been written by him, and with Locke
because the theologian considered that the philosophers
definition of substance was prejudicial to the doctrine ot
the Trinity. In most of his writings there is a small
residuum of permanent value. The range of his learning
is most clearly seen in his BisMj^s' Right to \ote m
Parliament in Cases Capital. His Origines Bntanmcee, or
Antiquities of the British Church (1685), is a surprising
mixture of critical and uncritical research; and his
Discourse concerning the True Reason of the Sufferings oj
Christ (1669), written in answer to Crellius, contains a
most forcible statement of the doctrine of Christ s substi-
tution So handsome in person as to have earned the
sobriquet of "the beauty of holiness," Stillingfleet was
twice married,-first to Andrea, laughter of William
Dobbyns of Wormington, by whom he had two daughters,
who died in infancy, and one son ; afterwards to Eliz-
abeth, daughter of Sir Nicholas Pedley, by whom he had
seven children. He died in his house at Westminster,
08th March 1699, and was buried in his own cathedral,
where a handsome monument briefly records his virtues.
His library was bought by Marsh, archbishop of Armagh,
to form the foundation of a public library in Dublin
A collected edition of his works, with life prcf.xed, was published
in London 1710); and a most useful edition of Jte Doctrines and
PraclTso/tL Church of Rome Truly Represented waa published in
1845 by Dr Cunningham.
STILLWATER, a city of the United States, at the
head of Washington county, Minnesota on the west bank
of the St Croix river, 18 miles north-east of St Paul.
It is a great centre of the lumber trade, contains a State
prison,! high school, and a puWic library, and increased
its population from 4124 to 90o5 between 18<0 and
STILT or Long-legged Plover, a bird so called for
reasons obvious to any one w-lio has seen it, ^'n^^- t^°"S;
no bigger than a Snipe, the length of its legs (tbeir ba e
part measuring 8 inches), in proportion to the size of its
body, exceeds that of any other bird's. The first nan e (a
translation of the French J^chasse, given in - 60 by Br s. on)
I seems to have been bestowed by Renmc only ■" \»3\ jt^
recommended by its definitencss and brevity, it has whol^
supplanted the second and older one. "The ^^^^ ^^^
' cfXndrius himantopus^ of Linnaeus, the Ilunanlopm
• 'l-hc possible confusion I'y P'-V'^ f^"^'"t"rl.^R vof^v S^
Jfa>matoPh.. been »lready nientioned (0^«™=f ^"!.";J''.\'l „
kea ore o-s slender and pUant as if cut out of a thong of leather.
552
STILT
Candidas or melanoplerus of modern writers, and belongs
to the group Limuotcc, having been usually placed in the
Family Scolopacidx, though it might be quite as reason-
ably referred to the Charadriidce, and, with its allies to
be immediately mentioned, would seem to be not very
distant from Jlxmatopus, notwithstanding the wonderful
development of its legs and the slenderness of its bill.
The very peculiar form of the Stilt naturally gave Buffon ocrasiou
[Hist. Nat. Oismu.v, viii. pp. llJ-ll 6) to lament the shortcomings
of Nature in pioilncing an animal with such "enormous defects,"
its longlegs in paiticular, lie supposed, scarcely allowing it to reach
the ground witli its bill. But he failed to notice the flexibility of
its proportionately long neck, and adniitted that he was ill-informed
as to its habits. No donbt, if he had enjoyed even so slight an
opportunity as occurred to a chance observer (llns, 1S59, p. 397), he I
would have allowed that its structure and ways were in complete
conformity, for the bird obtains its food by wading iu sliallbw water
and seizing the insects that fly over or float upon its surface or the
small crustaceans that swim beneath, for which purpose its slender
extremities are, as might be expertcd, admirably adapted. AVidely
spread over Asia, North Africa, and Soulhern Europe, the Stilt has
many tim^s visited Britain — though always as a straggler, for it is
not known to breed to the northw.ud of tlie Danube valley, — and
its occurrence in Scotland (near Dumfries) was noticed bj Sibbald
so long ago as 1684. It chiefly resorts to pools or lakes with a
margin of mud, on which it constructs a slight nest, banked round
or just raised above the level so as to keep its eggs dry {Ibis, 1859,'
■ji. 360) ; but sometimes they are laid in a tuft of grass. They are
four in number, and, except in size, closely resemble those of. the
Otstercatcher (vol. xviii. p. 111). The bird has the head, neck,
and lower parts white, the Lack and wings glossy black, the irides
reel, and the bare part of the legs pink. In America the geuus hat,
two representatives, one' (tig. 1) closely resembling that just
described, but rather smaller and with a black crown and nape.
Their bill, which is perhaps the most slender to bo seen
in the whole Clas.s. curves upward towards the end, and
has given thr oldest known species two names which
It formerly boitf in England, — " Cohhler's-awl," from its
likeness to the tool so called, and " Seoopor," because it
resembled the scoop with which mariners threw water on
their sails. The legs, though long, are not extraordinarily
so, and the feet, which are webbed, bear a small hind toe.
This species (fig. 2), the R avacctla of ornithology, was of old tiino
plentiful in England, tliough doubtless always restricted to certaiui
Fro. 1.— Black-Necked American Stilt. (After Gosse.)
This is B. nigricoUis or mcxicainis, and occurs from New England
to the middle of South America, beyond which it is replaced by
H. brasiliensis, which has the crown white. The Stilt inhabiting
India is now recognized to be ff. Candidas, but Australia possesses
a distinct species, JI. nuvm-hoJlandies, which also occurs in New
Zealand, thbugh that country has in addition a species peculiar to
it, H. novx-zelandix, differing from all the rest by assuming in the
breeding-season an altogether black plumage. Australia, however,
presents another form, wliii-h is the type of the genus Cladorhynchiis,
ind differs from Eimantopus both in its style of plumage (the male
having a broad bay pectoral belt), iu its shorter tarsi, and in having
the toes (though, as in the Stilt's feet, three in number on each foot)
webbed.
Allied in many ways to the Stilts, but differing in many
undeniably generic characters, are the birds • Ijnowf! as
Avosets,^ forming the genus Recurvirostra of Linnieus.
' This species was made kno\vn to Ray by Sloane, who met with it
in Jamaica, where in his day it was called "Longlegs."
^ This word is from the Bolognese Avosetta, which is considered to
be derived from the Latin avis — the termination expressing a diminu-
tive of a graceful or delicate kind, as donnetta from donna (Prof.
Salvador! in evisf X
Fio. 2. — Avoset. (After Nauraann.)
localities. Charleton in 1668 says that when a boy he had shot
not a few on the Severn, and Plot mentions it so as to lead one to
suppose that in his time (1636) it bred in Staffordshire, while
Willughby (1676) knew of it as being in winter on the eastern
co.TSt, and Pennant in 1769 found it in great numbers opposite to
Fossdyke Wash in Lincolnshire, and described the birds as hovering
over the sportsman's head like Lapwings. In this district they were
called " Yelpers " from their cry ;' but wliethcr that name was
elsewhere applied is uncertain. At the end of tlio last century they
frequented Roiiiney Jlaish in Kent, and >n the first iiuarter of the
present century they bred in various suitable s]'r.>« in SnHblk and
Norfolk, — the last place known to have been inhabited by them
being Saltliouse, where the people maJ< puddings of their eggs,
while the birds were killed for the sake oftlicir feathers, which were
used in making artificial flies for fishing. The extirpation of this
settlement took place between 1822 ami 1825 (r/. Stevenson, Birds
of Norfolk, ii. pp. 2-10, 241).'' Tlie Avoset's mode of nesting is
much like that of the .Stilt, and the eggs are hardly to be dis-
tinguished from those of the latter but by their larger size, the
bird being about as big as a Lapwing (vol. xiv. p. 308), white, with
the exception of its crown, the back of the neck, the inner .scapulai-s,
some of the wingcoverts and the primaries, which are black, while
the legs are of a fine light blue. It .seems to get its food by working
its bill from side to side in shallow pools, and catching the small
crustaceans or lai-v^ of insects that mav be swinuning therein, but
not, as has been stated, by sweeping the surface of the mud or sand
— a process that would speedily destroy tlie delicate bill by friction.
Two species of Avoset, 11. americana and H. nndina, arc found in
the New World ; ♦he former, which ranges so far to the northward
ds the Saskatchewan, is distinguished by its light cinnamon-coloui-ed
head, neck, and breast, and the latter, confined so far as known to
the mountain lakes of Chili, has no white in the upper parts except
the head and neck. Australia produces a fourth species, 't. none-
hoUandiss or rubricollis, with a chestnut head and nee'' ; but the
European Ii. avoccUa extends over nearly the whole of :;iiddle and
southern Asia as well as Alrica.
A recent proposal {Ibis, 1886, pp. 224-239) to unite
the Avosets and Stilts in a single genub ot"pni!< to have
little to recommend it but its novelty, and will hardly meet
with acceptance by systematists, 'a., n.)
^ Cf. "Yarwhelp" (GoDWiT, vol. x. p. 720) and "'i'aup" or
"Whaup" (CuELEW, vol. vi. p. 711). "Barker" and "Clinker"
seem to have been name« used in Norfolk.
•• The same kind of lamentable destruction has of late been carried
on in Holland and Denmark, to the extirpation probably of the species
in each coimtrv.
STIRLING
553
STERLING, a midland couacy of Scotland, is bounded
N by Perthshire, N.E. by Clackmannan and the 1 irth ot
Forth, S.E. by Linlithgowshire, S. by Lanarkshire and a
detached portion of Dumbartonshire, and b.VV. ana >v.
by Dumbartonshire. In the north-east there are two isol-
ated portions,-one forming the parish of A va, bounded
partly by Clackmannan and partly by Perthshire, and the
other forming part of the parish of Logie and bounded by
^rthshire. The outlines of the main P°^ '°'\Xlin<^
tremely irregular, the boundary on the north fo lowing
'ni most pak the windings of the Forth while on
ihewest it passes through the "diddle of Loch Lomond
and on the south coincides to a considerable extent with
various streams. The extreme length of tt« jun y from
north-west to south-east is about 4o miles and the great,
est breadth from north to south about 18 "^ijes- ^J^
land area is 286,338 acres, and the total area 298,579
acres, or about 466 square miles. Apart from the district
round Loch Lomond, the principal charni of f^l^^^'J
of StirUngshire is in the views of the valley of the Forth
with the winding river, and for background the distant
peaks of the Grampians, or the nearer -ranges of the Ochils
which encroach on the north-eastern corner and detached
Tections of the county. The vaUey of the Forth runs along
nearly he whole of the northern border, widening towards
the eLt The centre of the county from north-east to
south-west is occupied by the broad irregular ranges of the
Lennox Hills, which are known under four different names
a<coXg to the parishes in which they are P"ncipany
8tuated-the Gargunnock HiUs (attaimng a height of
1591 feet) the Fintry HiUs (1676), the Kilsyth Hills
(1393), and the Campsie Fells (1894). Nearly the whob
if thecounty to the north-east of Loch Lomond is occu-
pied by a spur of the Grampians, reaching in Ben Lomond
a hei/ht of 3192 feet. Besides Loch Lomond, situated
Sartly in Dumbartonshire, and Loch Katrine which
Ss the county at its north-western --Mhe Prin-
cipal lakes are Loch Arklet to the south of Loch Katrine
Loch Coulter, in the south of St Ninians parish Loch
ElbL in Falkirk pa^^sh, and Black Loch Partly mLanark-
S The river Forth, from its junction with the Kelty
near Gartmore, forms the northern boundary of the county,
except where it bounds on the north the part of Kippen
S wliich is in Perthshire, and separates a por ion o
Cpr parish from that of St Ninians and a portion of
LoSe from that of St Ninians and Stirling It receive
from the north the Teith, which touches the county a
Lec^opt parish, and the Allan, which separates .he parishes
„rTP^roi,t and Logie, and from the south the Boquhan
W KoulbS 'and the Bannock burn. The Carron
water flows eastwards from the Fintry Hills to the Firth
Tf Forth at Grangemouth. On the south there are a
number of streams which form at various places the
Eary of the county,-th6 Endrick water flowing west-
wardrf7om the Fintry' HiUs to Loch Lomond the Ke vm
from near Kilsyth flowing south-westwards to tbe Ulyae.
and the Avon from Lanarkshire flowing north-eastwards
?o the Firth of Forth. The Forth and Clyde Canal crosses
the south-eastern corner of the county from Castlccary to
"^ Thf whotof the district to the north of Loch Lomond
is occupied by the crystalline schists of the Highlands
which, by the existence of a great fault, are connected on
the east with the Old Red Sandstone, which occupies the
broad valley between tbe base of the Highland hills and
the chain of the Ochils. These latter heights, por ions of
which are included in detached areas of t}'" <=°""ty con-
S of volcanic rocks associated with the Old Red Sand-
:ron:'(see vol. x. p. 343). The Lennox lIiUs - th-ej-
ol the county are formed by volcanic rocks of Carbomter-
ous age resting on straU ot red and white sandstone (see
vol X p 346). The lower grounds are deeply buried
under 'glacial drifts, and conspicuously marked by broad
terraces that represent former sea-margins. On one ot
these at a height of 50 feet above the present sea-level,
lies the Carse of Falkirk. Another stands at an elevation
of about 100 feet. There are saline mineral springs at
Bridge of Allan. ^ c ii
The coalfield runs obliquely along tlie soutn-east of the
county, the principal seams being m Denny, Kilsyth,
Larbert, Falkirk, and Slamannan parishes. Ironstone,_tre-
clay and oil-shale are also found. Limestone is extensively
wroic-ht in the Campsie district, and there are a number
of sandstone quarries in various parts of the county Ihe
total output of coal in 1884 was 1 182 891 tons, of iron-
stone 75,351 tons, of fireclay 15,872, and of oil-shale 4a35.
JgHculturc-Acooriing to the landowners return «fj-f 2-73 the
landwasheld by 4257 proprietors, P°«^^=^;°g284 751 acres, atanan
nual valuation of £521, 407, an average value all over of *! ■ 1^!; ?t^;
Of the proprietors 3409 possessed less than one aero. The follo^-
inV assessed over 5000 acres each:-Duke of Montrose, 68,8/8 ,
WUam Forbesri3,041; Rear-admiral Sir W lUam Edmonstone
9778^ Hon Mrs. Margaret Leauox, 7606; Alex Graham Spe rs
7172'W C G Bontine,6931; Lieutenant-Col. John Murray. 6S13;
sJilex' C. R Gibson.'Maitland, 6023 ; Henry Fletcher CampbeU.
5679 ; and Vames Johnstone, 5340. The »"« ?-bk %t 1 S^^^^^^^f ,
^bira are distinguished loca ly as carse and dryfield, the remainaer
of the county be^g occupied by mountain pasture Ifd, moor and
moss The Carse ?t Stirling extends along the banks of the iorth
from Buchlyvie to the eastern extremity "f *e county - a^ength
SS::f^S^sl^rrS^er:fS^
50 acres I 60 to 100
and under, acres.
1875
1885
Acres. No. Acres,
13,130
12,660
382 28,493
363 27,876
100 to 3001 300 to 600
acres. I acres
No,
Acres. No,
62,080 29
.',a,418 28
Acres
500 to
1000 ac.
Ko. Ac.
10,411
10,326
Above
1000 ac.
4299
3489
. Ac,
TotaL
No,
14181637
14161492
Acres.
109,831
115,076
crops the principal are P°\\'f„%Xof the arable area'u occu-
acres). Considerably more ''^^''" Jf " ° m ture, and their acreage
pied by rotation grasses and t^'l'^^'"^"^ r^^f^^'.-eounted for by tho
■ s constantly increasing, w nc*h '^ Buffic'<=Dtly «^™""'^^,,^^ ^^^^^er
steady Increase in the ^^Jll'^'fj^^J^^ s% ^?e o used solely for
of horses in 1886 was *«1<'' 7o™ "f „„brokcn horses aud marcs
purposes of agriculture, ''f 1"0 ^-^^ The C vdesdalo breed are in
Lpt solely for nurposes of br«c<i'"e- i^>° ^^ ,„,^„„i 09,422, of
general use on tlio larger farms. Cattle in lB»on' a„d8684 were
^hich 10,745 were co^vs and heifers '"™'^°^''kTng is largely prac
other cattle two years old »"'l.''^7^-,^""t''i,'r„ the principal breed
tised on the dryfield farms, the Ay" < <> J^^'' 8 V r j^^ which
of cows, but cattle-feeding IS ^^l^" »" 3ifb<,Uu , „ considerable
Irish cattle and cross breeds are 5^^j;f' "^J" "eh oily blackfaced,
number of shorthorns being also ;y'i^„ ^^"'l^ennox Hills and tho
for which there is extensive l™^'" "^^,,'"397 ;„ igse, and pigs 1775.
slopes of the q^»'"r;='"!' ""■"^'^;; ^^^-.'sof to ii the mosses, an
Though, as is evident from the r'nia"'' . gupjed by forest,
extensive district of the f "".'fj i^VorthTarea u''„aer woo<ls in
it is npw comparative y devoJ -f -ber^ho^^ax^ ^^„^,„,y t„ ,ho
^?o'^t»ui^KtK-^^ of the mouiitainsin tlicparishe.
554
STIRLING
of IJuchanan and Drymen, and oats grow extensively on the borders I
of Loch Lomond. Larch and Scotch firs principally occupy the
modern plantations in tlie other parts of the county. In 1886 there
were only 31 acres under orchards, 27 under market gardens, and
53 under nursery grounds.
Manufactures. — The Carron ironworks, founded in 1760, for a long
time led the van in British iron manufacture, and are still among
the most extensive in the kingdom. The Falkirk ironworks, founded
in 1819, are tlie next to them in importance in the county, but there
are many others in the same district. The woollen manufacture is
ne.xt to iron in importance. It includes carpets, tartans, shawls,
a,nd tweeds, the principal seats of the industry being Alva, Bannock-
burn, Cambusbarron, and Stilling. Calico printing is carried on in
the western part of the county, especially at Campsie and Milngavie.
There are chemical works at Stirling, Falkirk, Denny, andCampsie.
Throughnut the county there are a considerable number of breweries
and distilleries. At Grangemouth, the principal
port in the county, shipbuilding is carried on.
Administration and Population. — Stirling is
included with Dumbarton and Clackmannan in
the same slierilfdom, but has two sheriff-substi-
tutes, who sit at Stirling and Falkirk respect-
ively, anil there are prisons in both towns. The
high court of justiciary holds circuit courts at
Stirling. There are 21 entire civil parishes
within the county and parts of 5 others. Stir-
ling (population 12,194) is a royal and police
burgh, Falkirk (13,170) a police burgh and burgh
of regality, Kilsyth (,t405) a police burgh and
burgh of barony, and Alva (4961), Bridge of Allan
(3005), Denny and Dunipace (4080), Grange-
mouth (4424), and Milngavie (2036) police
burghs. In addition to these the following
places had each upwards of 2000 inhabitants:
Bannockburn (2549), Lennoxtown (3249), and
Stenhousemuir (2617). From 39,761 iu 1765 the
population of the county had by 1801 increased
to 50,825, bv 1831 to 72,621, by 1861 to 91,926,
by 1871 to 98,176, and by 1881 to 112.443, of
whom 66,147 were males and 56,296 were
females. The number of persons to the square
mile is 251, and in point of density Stirling
ranks ninth among the counties of Scotland.
One member is returned to parliament by the
county, and Stirling and Falkirk are members
of separate districts of burghs, which are re-
spectively named from them, each returning one
member.
History. — In 81 A. D. the Romans under Agri-
cola peneti-ated as far north as the firths of Clyde (Clota) and Forth
(Bodotria). To secure their conquests they erected between these a
line of forts or prxsidia^ generally two miles apart. In 139 Lollius
Urbicus erected along the line of the forts the rampart of Anloninus's
wall, afterwards known as Graham's dyke. The wall, after crossing
the parish of East Kilpatrick, passed outside the present county of
Stirling, till it reached Castlecary, whence it passed by Camelon and
Falkirk to Carriden in Linlithgowshire. Castlecary, where many
Roman remains have been found, was perhaps the principal Roman
station on the line of the wall, and there was another important one
at Camelon. A Roman road, the Camelon causeway, passed east-
wards from Castlecary to the south of the rampart, and after two miles
crossed it and held on to Camelon, whence it went northward by
Bannockburn, St Ninians, and Stirling to the Forth, where there
was an important station near the present bridge of Drip. Thence
it passed north by Keir to Dunblane. To the north-east of the
Carron ironworks there was at one time a finely-preserved circular
Roman building, called Arthur's Oon (oven) or Julius's Hof,
which was demolished in 1743, but of which a drawing is pre-
served in Camden's Britannia. In the parish of Dunipace are two
beautiful mounds called "the Hills of Dunipace," which some have
supposed to have been erected as monuments of peace between the
Romans and Caledonians, but which are more probably of natural
origin. The remains of what was supposed to have been an early
British stronghold were discovered at Torwood in 1864. A group of
cairns at Craigniaddie, near Milngavie, is supposed to mark the scene
of a battle between the Picts and Danes. Among the remains of old
feudal castles may be mentioned Graham's castle, among the Fintry
Hills, which belonged to Sir John de Graham, who was killed in the
battle of Falkirk in 1298 ; Herbertshire, on the north bank of the
Carron near Denny, originally a royal hunting seat, and still one
of the finest embattled residences in the county (now a boarding
school); the ancient keep of Castlecary, partly destroyed by the
Highlanders in 1715 J Torwood, surrounded by the remains of the
Caledonian forest, in one of the oaks of which Wallace took refuge ;
and the round tower of Carnock, called Bruce'a castle, of unknown
history. Sir William AVallace lived occasionally with his uncle,
the parson of Dunipace, and the county is specially associated with
his exploits and those of Robert Bruce, being the scene of some
of the principal battles in the struggle for Scottish independenco
(Stirling bridge, September 10, 1297; Falkirk, July 22, 1298; Ban-
nockburn, June24, 1314). At Sauchieburn, 11th June 1488, James
III. was defeated by his insurgent nobles, and. during his flight,
having stopped at a cottage in the village of Milton, was thero
stabbed to death. Kilsyth saw the defeat of the Covenanters by
Montrose, 15th August 1645, a result which for a time laid Scotland
at Montrose's feet ; and a hundred years afterwards— 17th January
1746 — the Highlanders under Prince Charles Edward routed the
Hanoverians at Falkirk.
See Sir Robert Sibba3d's Description of StirJijioshire, 1710; and Kimmo's /Tw-
tory of Stirlingshire, 1777 (.MacGregor Stirling's edition is tlie test). (T. F. H.)
STIRLING, a royal and parliamentary burgh and the
county town of Stirlingshire, is finely situated on the slopes
Plan of Stirling.
of an isolated eminence overlooking the valley of the Forth
and abruptly precipitous towards the north-west, at the
junction of several railway Unes, 36 miles west-north-west
o'f Edinburgh and 30 north-north-cast of Glasgow. Ori-
ginally the town was protected on all the accessible sides
of the rock by a wall, of which there are still some remains
at the soutbern end of the Back Walk. There were two
principal entries to the town, — the South Port, originally
100 yards more to the west of the present line of Port
Street, and the bridge over the Forth to the north. The
earliest bridge was at Kildean, a mile to the west; the
existing old bridge, now disused, probably dates from about
the end of the 13th century ; the new bridge was erected in
1829, from the designs of Stevenson, at a cost of £17,000.
The streets of the old town are for the most part steep,
narrow, and irregular, and contain a large number of
quaint and antique dwellings. The town has now much
outgrown its ancient limits, and the surrounding suburbs
on the low grounds contain numerous villas. The castle
crowning the eminence, and commanding a splendid pano-
ramic view of the wide valley between the Lennox Hills
and the Highland mountains and Ochils, with the links
of the Forth and the widening estuary to the east, is of
unknown antiquity, but from the time that Alexander I.
died within its walls in 1124 till James VI. ascended the
throne of England it was intimately associated with the
fortunes of the Scottish monarchs, and after theTaccession
of the Stuarts, it became a favourite royal residence. The
building was extended by James III., who erected the
parliament hall, now used as a barrack-room. The palace,
begun by James V. and finished in the reign of Mary, is
STIKLING
655
at the south-west ot the fortress, and forms a quadrangle,
the front and pillars of which are adorned by quaintly
sculptured figures. The royal chapel founded by Alex-
ander I., rebuilt in the 15th century, and again by James
VI., was subsequently converted into an armoury and is
DOW used as a store. To the west of it is the Douglas
room, the scene of the treacherous murder of William,
oighth earl of Douglas, by James II. in 1452. Below the
castle on the north-east is the road of Ballangeich, which
supplied a fictitious title to James V. when wandering in
disguise. Beyond it is the Gowan or Gowlan Hill, at the
west corner of which is Jlote Hill or Heading HilJ, where
Murdoch, duke of Albany, and several of his relatives were
beheaded in 1425. On the north-east side of the esplanade
ft statue of King Robert Bruce was erected in 1877. Below
(he castle rock to the south-west were the king's gardens,
oow laid out in grass, with an octagonal mound, called the
King's Knot, in the centre. Farther south is the King's
Park, now used for recreation, and as a drill ground. . In
thr; cemetery to the south of the castle esplanade there
arn a number of interesting monuments. Near the main
entrance to the esplanade is the building called Argyll's
Lrdging, erected by the poet. Sir William Alexander, who
W3,s created earl of Stirling by Charles I. It passed into
the possession of the Argylls in 1640, and was the head-
quarters of John, duke of Argyll, during the rebellion of
1115. South-west of it is Mar's Work, the ruins of the
palace built as a residence by the earl of Mar about 1570,
from the ruins of Cambuskenneth Abbey. Next to the
castle the most int8resting pub'ic building is the Greyfriars
church, some portions of which date from the 13th century,
although the monastery with which it was connected was
not founded till 1494. The greater part of it is in the Later
Pointed style. The church was the scene of the coronation
U James VI., 29th. July 1567, when John Knox preached
the coronation sermon. The site of the Dominican monas-
tery founded by Alexander II. in 1223 is now occupied by
fae National Bank. In the immediate ne'ghbourhood of
Stirling, on the other side of the Forth, in Clackmannan
jounty, is the beautiful ruin of Cambuskenneth Abbey,
shiefly Early English or First Pointed, founded by David
L in 1147 for canons regular, associated with the meeting
of- parliaments and other interesting events in Scottish
history, and the burial-place of James III. and his queen,
Margaret of Denmark.
The principal secular buiUlings are the old town-house, erected
in 1701 ; the new town buildincs ; the jail, ereoteJ in 184S at a
cost of £12,000 ; the county buildings (1875, il.'i.OOO); the Smith
institute, founded by the bequest of £22,000 and a' valuable collec-
tion of paintings by Thomas Stewart Smith, and embracing a picture
gallery, a museum, and a reading room ; the public halls (1883,
£12,000); and the high school (1855, £5000 ; now being extended
at a cost of £8000). Among the benefactions are Cowane's hospi-
tal, founded by the bequest of .lohn C'owane, dean of "uild in 1633,
for twelve decayed members of the guildry, but the distribution of
the charity has since been altered, and the building erected in 1639
now forms the guild hall; Spittal's hospital, founded by Robert
•Spittal, tailor to James IV., about 1530 for decayed tradesmen;
Allan's hospital, founded in 1725 for the maintenance of children
of poor townsmen ; and Cunningham's mortification, founded in
1808 with an endowment of £4000 for the clothing and schooling of
'ons of mechanics. By the operation of the Endowed Schools and
Hospitals Act tho charities are now largely devoted to education.
As early as the 15th century Stirling li,ad a trade with the Nether-
lands in worsted cloth, shalloons, stockings, and tlrn-ad, but tho
manufactures afterwards declined. The cotton manufacture carried
on in the beginning of tho present century has now entirely ceased.
Durin" the last century tho manufacture of tartans and carpets waii
carried on, but this also languished about the end of the century,
.•>nd was not revived till about 1S2Q. Tho woollen manufacture is
now tho staple industry, tho principal goods being carpets, tartans,
tweeds, and shawls. There are also breweries, coaihbuilding works,
and .agricultural implement works. The population of tho royal
buj-gh in 1871 was 10,873, and in 1881 12,19-1. The population of
the parlianitntary burgh, which includes tho village of St Ninians,
in 1871 was 14.279, and in 1881 it was 16,001.
The town is of unknown antiquity, and undoubtedly owed its
origin to the fortress on the rock, which became one of the most
important strongholds in Scotland and the centre of the struggle
between Scotland and England. As early as 1119 the towu was a
royal burgh, and under Alexander I. it became one of the four
towns which constituted the Court of the Four Burghs, superseded
under James III. by the Convention of Royal Burgh.s. Its earliest
charter was that of Alexander II. in 1226, who first made the
castle a royal residence. Its last governing charter was obtained
from Charles I. in 1641. On account of a combination of three
members of the council to retain themselves in office it was deprived
of its corporate privileges in 1773, and they were not restored till
1781. The castle was held by WiUiam the Lion before 1174, was
occupied by Edward I. with his army in 1296, and was burned
with the town in 1298 by the Scots on their retreat from the
battle of Falkirk. Between this time and 1341 it was frequently
besieged and taken by the English, the longest period during which
it remained in their bauds being from its capture by Edward I. in
1304 till his son's defeat 10 years afterwards at the battle of Ban-
nockburn. It was the birthplace of James II. in 1430, and, it being
the jointure house of his mother, he was removed to it in 1438
from Edinburgh to thwart the ambitious purposes of Sir William
Crichton. It was in one of its rooms that James, as stated above,
slew the earl of Douglas, after which the town was burned by
the earl's brothers. James V. took refuge in it after his escape
from Falkland in 1528. During the reign o' Mary and the period
of the Reformation, Stirling occupied a position of almost as great
prominence as during the wars of Scottish independence. Here
the infant queen was crowned by the cardinal's party in 1543;
here her son, afterwards James VI., was baptized according to
the Roman Catholic ritual, 17th December 1566; and here he was
crowned by the leaders of tho congregation on July 29th of the
following year. In 1571 rival parliaments were held by the queen's
party in Edinburgh and the king's lords at Stirling, shortly after
which an -attempt was made by the queen's adherents to surprise
Stirling castle, which was almost successful, the regent (Lennox)
being slain in the fray. On the 26th April 1578 the castle was
surprised by Morton, after which a reconciliation took place between
the two parties. In 1584 the castle was occupied by the earls of
Angus and Mar, the Protestant leaders, but on the approach of the
king with a large force they fled to England. Returning with a
formidable army collected in the south in the following year, they
compelled James after the flight of Arran to open the gates to
them, safety to his person having been guafanteed. The town was
the scene of the baptism of Prince Henry with great pomp in August
1594, for which purpose the chapel royal was rebuilt on a lai^er
scale " to entertain the great number of strangers expected." 'The
meetings of the privy council and court of session were held in 1637
at Stirling on account of the disturbed condition of Edinburgh, and
a parliament was held at it in 1645, on account of Edinburgh having
been visited by the plague, but the outbreak of tho disorder in
Stirling caused an adjournment to Perth. During the Civil War
Stirling was held by the Covenanters, and the committees of church
and state adjourned to it after the victory of Cromwell at Dunbar
3d September 1650. In August of the following year the castle
was taken by General Monk. In 1715 it was held by Argyll to
prevent tho passage of the. Forth by the Jacobites ; and during the
rebellion of 1745 it was unsuccessfully besieged by the Highlanders.
See History of Ihe Chapel Royal of Stirling, Grampian Club, 1882 ; Local NAa
and Queries relating to Stirling, 1883; Chartert of Stirling, 1884; BurtoD,
History of Scotland. (T. F. H.l
STIRLING, Eael of. See Alexaijdee, Sib William,
vol. i. p. 493.
STIRLING, James (1692-1770), mathematician, third
son of Archibald Stirling of Garden, and grandson
of Sir Archi'oald Stirling of Keir (Lord Garden, a lord
of session), was born at Garden, Stirlingshire, in 1692.
Part of his early education was probably obtained at
Glasgow, but at eighteen years of age be went to Oxford,
where, chiefly through the influence of the earl of Mar
he was nominated (1711) one of Bishop Warner's exhibi-
tioners at Ealliol. During his residence at Oxford ho made
for himself considerable reputation as a student of mathe-
matics. In 1715, however, ho was expelled on account of
his correspondence with qiembers of tho Keir and Garden
families, who were noted Jacobites, and had been accessory
to the "Gathering of the Brig of Turk" in 1708. From
Oxford ho made his way to Venice, where ho occupied
himself as a professor of mathematics. In 1717 appeared
his LinciB Tertii Ordinis Nemtoniansc, give .... (8vo,
Oxford), which contained one or two notable additions
to the theory. While in Venice, also, he communicated.
556
S T O — S T O
through Sir Isaac Newton, to the Royal Society a paper
entitled " Methodus Differentialis Newtoniana illustr'ata "
(Phil. Tram., 1718, p. 1050; Abridg., vi. p. 428). Fear-
ing assassination on account of having discovered a trade
secret of the glass-makers of Venice, he returned « ji
Newton's help to London- about the year 1725 In
London he remained for ten years, being most part ot the
time connected with an academy in Tower Street, and
devoting his leisure to mathematics and correspondence
with eminent mathematicians. In 1 730 his most im-
portant work was published, the Methodus Differentialis,
sive Tradatus de S^immatione et Interpolatione Strierum
Infinitarum (4to, London), which, it must be noted, is
something more than an expansion of the paper of 1718.
In 1735 he communicated to the Royal Society a paper
" On the Figure of the Earth, and on the Variation of the
Force of Gravity at its Surface" {Phil. Trans., Abridg.,
Tiii. pp. 26-30). In the same year his worldly fortunes
changed permanently for the better, through his appoint-
ment to be manager for the Scots Mining Company 'at
Leadhills, an appointment which gave scope both to his
scientific' talents and to his great, though hitherto latent,
administrative ability, and which was eminently fortunate
for his employers. We are thus prepared to find that his
next paper to the Royal Society was concerned, not with
pure, but with applied science — " Description of a Machine
to blow Eire by the Fall of Water" {Phil. Trans., 1745,
p. 315 ; Abridg., is. pp. 109, 110). His name is also con-
nected with another practical undertaking since grown to
■vast dimensions. The accounts of the city of Glasgow
show that the very first instalment of ten millions sterling
spent in making Glasgow a seaport, viz., a sum of £28,-
4s. 4d., was for a silver tea-kettle to be presented to
" James Stirling, mathematician, for his service, pains, and
trouble in surveying the river towards deepening it by
locks." This was in 1752. Stirling; died in Edinburgh
on 5th December 1770.
See W. Fraser, The Stirlings of Kcir, and their Fanrily Papers,
Edinburgh, 1858 ; " Modern History of Leadhills," in Geiiilcman's
Magazine, June 1853 ; Brewster, Memoirs of Sir Isaac Newton,
ii. pp. 300, 307, 411, 516 ; J. Nicol, Vital Statistics of Glasgow,
1881-5, p. 70 ; Glasgow Herald, 5th August 1886.
. Another edition. of the Liness Tertii Ordinis was published in
Paris in 1797 ; another edition of the Methodus Differentialis in
London in 1764 ; and a translation of the latter into English by
HaUiday in London in 1749. A considerable collection of literary
remains, consisting of papers, letters, and two manuscript volumes
of a treatise on weights and measures, are still preserved at Garden
by Stirling's great-grandson and namesake.
STOAT. See Ermine.
STOB^US, Joannes, a native of Stobi in Macedonia, —
whence the surname Stobseus or Stobensis, — is known to
Bs as the compiler of a very valuable series of extracts
from Greek authors. Of his life nothing is known, but
he probably belongs to the latter half of the 5th century.
From his sOence in regard to Christian authors, it is in-
ferred with some probability that he was not a Christian;
that he was a man of wide culture and general reading is
clear from the anthology which bears his name.
The extracts were intended by Stobajus for his son
Septimius, and were preceded by a letter briefly explaining
the purpose of the work and giving a summary of the
contents. From this summary (which is preserved in
Photius's Bihliotheca) we learn that Stobseus divided his
work into four books ; the first contained sixty chapters,
the second forty-six, the third forty-two, and the fourth
fifty-eight. In most of our MSS. the work is divided into
three books, of which the first and second are generally
called 'ExAoyat cj>va-LKai Kai r/OiKal, and the third 'Ai'Oo-
Xoyiov {^Florilegium or Sermones). As each of the four
books is sometimes called 'XvOoXoyiov, it is probable
JJiat this name originally belonged to the entire work ;
the full title, as we know from Photius, was 'ExXoySv
aTotfiOeyixaTtav vTro6rjKu>v PifiXia rirrapa. Between the
account which Photius gives of Stobseus's work and the
form in which we have it there are several marked discre-
pancies. The second book in particular is little more than
a fragment. From this and other indications Wachsmuth
has made it probable that our Stobseus is only an epitome
of the original work, made about the end of the 11th
century ai Byzantium, "ab homine Platonis Aristotelisque
amantissimo."
The didactic aim of Stobseus's work is apparent
throughout. The first book teaches physics — in the wide
sense which the Greeks assigned to this term — by means
of extracts. It is often untrustworthy : Stobosus betrays
a tendency to confound the dogmas of the early Ionic
philosophers, and he occasionally mixes up Platonism with
Pythagoreanism. For part of this book and much of
book ii. be depended on the works of Aetius, a Peripatetic
philosopher, and Didymus. The third and fourth books,
like the larger part of the second, treat of ethics ; the
third, of virtues and vices, in pairs ; the fourth, of more
general ethical and. political subjects, frequently citing
extracts to illustrate the pros and cons of a question in
two successive chapters. In all, Stobseus quotes more
than five hundred writers, generally beginning with the
poets, and then proceeding to the historians," orators,
philosophers, and physicians. It is to him that we owe
many of our most important fragments of the dramatists,
particularly of Euripides.
The first complete edition of Stobseus was published at Geneva
in 1609 ; the last is Meineke's (Leipsic, 1855-1864). The best
critical edition of books i. and ii. is by Wachsmuth (Berlin, 1884) ;
a companion edition of books iii. and iv. (the Florilegium) is pro-
mised by Otto Hense.
STOCK EXCHANGE, a market for the purchase or
sale of all descriptions of public securities. Previous to
1773 the London stockbrokers conducted their business
in and about the Royal Exchange, but in that year,
having formed themselves into an association under the
designation of the Stock Exchange, they, after temporarily
locating their headquarters in Sweeting Ally, Threadneedle
Street, removed to Capel Court, Bartholomew Lane. The
growth of business necessitating improved accommodation,
a capital of £20,000 ia four hundred shares of £50 eacH
was raised in 1801 for the purpose of erecting a new
building in Capel Court, which was finished and occupied
in the following year, the members at that date number-
ing about five hundred. With the occupation of the new
building new rules came into force ; all future members
were admitted by ballot, while both members and their
authorized clerks were required to pay a subscription of
ten guineas each. As only the wealthier members of the
association had provided the capital for the new building,
the Stock Exchange henceforth consisted of two distinct
bodies — proprietors and subscribers. In 1854, the member-
ship having increased to about one thousand persons, an
extension of the premises in Capel Court was effected at a
cost of £16,000. A further and very extensive increase
in the accommodation was made in 1885, the number of
members and authorized clerks having risen at that date to
above two thousand five hundred. The extended build-
ings now occupy the whole of a. triangle to the east of the
Bank of England, having as its base Bartholomew Lane,
its north side Throgmorton Street, and its south side por-
tions of Threadneedle Street and Old Broad Street. The
completed buildings comprise two large haUs, where the
various markets are held, settlement rooms, reading room,
committee rooms, managers' rooms, and various other
offices. It is intended ultimately to remove the partition
between the two halls, when a vast business apartment,
S T O — S T O
557
having an area of about 16,000 square feet, will be avail-
able for the use of members. The immensely valuable
property of the Stock Exchange is now owned by about
1050 proprietors, additions both to the proprietary and to
the capital invested in the buildings having been from
time to time effected during the past fifty years, 'ihu
interests of the proprietors are attended to by nine of
their number, who are termed managers, and by a secretary
and staff of clerks. The income of the association now
amounts to about .£130,000 per annum, and is derived
from the annual subscriptions of members and their clerks,
from entrance fees pnid bv new membeis, anJ fiom reufs
and investments. All memberb of the Stock Exchange
are not proprietors, neither are all proprietors necessarily
members. Admission us a member- is opei» to iny person
not engaged in another business. He must, however, be
recommended by three members, who each guarantee to
the committee of the house payment of .£750 in the event
of the new member being declared a defaulter within two
years of his election. A personal guarantee of this de-
scription is imperative, the object being to oacI'iHo all
persons of doubtful character. Elections are by ballot,
and for one year only, all members being theoretically
liable to exclusion at the expiry of that period.
The stock exchange opens everv morning at 1 1 o'clock
and closes at 4, except on Saturday, on vvuich d<iy the
doors are shut at 2 o'clock. All members of the house are
either jobbers or brokers, the farmer term being applied
to those who are dealeis in stocks. It is contrary to the
etiquette of the London Stock Exchange for brokers to
deal with brokers, and all transactions are .nccordingly
effected between brokers (representing their clients) and
jobbers. Brokers' charges vary from one-sixteenth to as
much as one-half per cent., and the jobbers' "turn" or profit
from one-eighth to two or three per cent., according to the
character of the stock dealt in. The turn of the jobber
amounts in the aggregate to an enormous tax upon the
British public, and the question of the utility of this inter-
mediary has been much discussed at various times. On
buyers and sellers the tax operates in this way : — A wishes
to buy and B wishes to sell XIOOO of Caledonian Railway
stock, but, brokers being forbidden to deal with brokers,
recourse is had to the jobber C, who makes a price to the
brokers of say 98 to 98J, that is to say, he offers to buy at
98 or to sell at 98^ ; the buyer A accordingly pays 98J
plus his brokpr's commission, and the seller B receives i)d
minus his broker's commission, the jobber C pocketing the
difference or "turn" of ^ per cent. The argument in
favour of the jobber is that he supplies rt all times and in
all circumstances a ready market, and it must be allowed
that in ordinary times he is a very convenient functionary.
But, as a matter of fact, in excited times the system often
breaks down, as the jobbers frequently shut their books
and refuse to deal at the very moment when their help is
most needed. What are known as the "markets" in the
stock exchange are simply groups of jobbers distributed
here and there on the floor of the house. Habit oi con-
venience seems to have determined the particular spots
occupied, which are known as the consol maikut, the Eng-
lish railway market, the foreign stock market, and oo on.
In active times the business tran.sacted daily on the
London ot'ifk exchange amounts to an enormous total.
Yet no written contracts or notes pass between jobbers
and brokers, verbal communications being alone in use.
Kotwithstanding this apparent looseness of practice where
millions of property are bought and sold almost hourly,
there is hardly a single instance of attempted repudiation
on record. All transactions are entered into for the
fortnightly settlements, the precise dates for which are i
always fixed a few weeks in advance by the committee of i
the Louse. Eacli fortnightly settlement includes tnrce
days : the first is the continuation or contango day, when
all transactions of a merely sjicculative description are
continued for another fortnight, the second the ticket day,
whpp names are passed for actual purchases or sales, and
the third the pay day, when all amounts or balances arc
paid or received. As the great bulk of business is purely
speculative, the contango or continuation day is by far the
busiest of the entire fortnight. The floor of the house is
then crowded with an eager throng of from 2000 to 3000
brokers, jobbers, and clerks, and during the greater part of
the dav little is done beyond arranging the account. Con-
tinuation rates or contangos vary with the value of money
and che stnte of the account. AVhcn money is dear, or
speculative buying active, rates are high, but when specula-
tive selling has preponderated, and the occount has become
what is called a " bear " account, rates are light. An
enormous amount of capital is engaged in stock exchange
speCL.Ia*i"n in London. Banks, financial companies, and
private firms and individuals lend freely on stock exchange
securities, and thus encourage, if they do not initiate, most
of the great speculative movements. Besides the great
central institution in London, stock exchanges exist in
nearly all the large cities of the United Kingdom. The
principal are those of Glasgow, Liverpool, and Jfanchester,
which provide excellent markets for local stocks and shares.
On the Continent the two chief centres for the tr.insaction of
stock excliange business are Paris ami Berlin. In Paris the
business can be traced back for about live lumdred years, but it
was not until 1726 tliat the Bourse was legally lerognized, sixty
agents de change for the transaction of businoss being apiiointcd in
that year by tlie king. The liour.ie now consists of two distinct
bodies, known as the pargiict and the coulisse. The jxirquct is
composed of the sixty olficial brokers or agents dc cliangc appointed
by the Government, who alone ,iie admitted to the inner business
ring of the Bourse. The coulisse are the outside dealers or biokei's,
but, unlike the same class in London, these comiirise funis of solid
standing, bankers, and arbitrage houses. Altliough a partial settle-
ment occurs once a fortnight, the great bull; of tlie business on the
Paris Bourse is settled for once a month, the arrangements con-
nected therewith occupying no less than six days. Another pecu-
liarity in the mode of conducting business in Paris is tliat sellcr.s
can be compelled to deliver stock at any time during the currency
of the account. At Berlin the Bourse is not under Government
control, and although a cei tain number of licences arc issued any
tne. niay act as a broker. The Bourse can be used by the public on
payment of an annual subscription, and all debts incurred there
are as obligatory in law as ordinary commercial d bts. The settle-
ment occupies three days, and occurs at the end of each month.
Although stock exchange business in the United States has now
attainea enormous pp'pnrtions, it is of comparatively recent origin.
The first organiza'inn of brokers in New York dates from about
1820. . The mode of conducting business in Wall Street dill'ers in
some res])ects from both the English and the Continental procedure.
Transactions mtercd into on one day are settled on the following,
and the lull amounts involved, and not the mere diirerences, are
paid and received. The jobber, who is of so nnich importance
under the English system, is unknown in New York, as in all ca.scs
brokers deal direct with brokers. While stock exchange business
in London is of iniUiensc variety, and comprises all descriptions of
home and foreign Government bonds, railway stocks, and miscella-
n.'nii5 shares, in New York it is confined almost entirely to American
railw.ay bonds anu si.anw Tn these securities, however, the volume
of business in active times is enormous, the vast railway system of
the United States providing an ample choice for the investor and
a wide field for speculative manipulation. (W. P. H.)
STOCKHOLJL the capital of Sweden, is situated at the
point where Lake Millar mixes its waters with those of the
Baltic, and at the meeting-place of two provinces, Upland
and Siiderinanland. The old cities of Sweden are regularly
found in places where in early times the inhabitants of
neighbouring districts came together for purposes of ex-
change or sometimes of wonshiii, or where a river brought
the interior of the country into closer connexion with the
coast. By the passages that wind among the nuineious
isles off Stockholm ships at Mn early date came to the
mouth of the lake, onlv to continue their vova^o into^iU
558
STOCKHOLM
remoter parts. The two provinces mentioned were densely
peopled, and the .cultivated regions extended to the mouth
of the lake, as is shown by
groups of tumuli still to be
seen in the immediate neigh-
bourhood of the present city.
Still Stockholm does not
rank among the oldest cities
Environs of Stockholm.
of Sweden; the exceedingly eligible site had long been
neglected owing to its exposure to the incursions of
pirates.*
Stockholm was first founded by Birger Jarl, it is said,
in the middle of the 13th century, at a time when pirate
fleets were less common than ttey liad been, and the
Government was anxious to establish commercial relation*
with the towns which were now beginning to flourish od
the southern coast of the Baltic. The city was originally
founded as a fortress on an island at the mouth of Lake
Malar ; this island, which is not large, consists of a Lill of
gravel resting upon rocky ground, having its highest side
towards the north, and sloping in the other directions.
The castle was erected on the north-eastern corner, and the
city was surrounded with walls having fortified towers on
the north and south. It came to be called Stockholm
(" the isle of the log," Lat. Holmia, Germ. Holm) ; the true
explanation of the name is not known. Soon the space
STOCKHOLM
1. Charcli of St John.
which had been enclosed was found to be insufficient, and
houses were built outside the walls, which thus lost their
defensive character. The castle, two towers belonging to
the older works, and some newer walls nearer the water
became the sole fortifications. The citizens began also to
build on the neighbouring shores, though there, in the
event of a siege, all houses had to be destroyed, so as not
to givp shelter to the enemy. A tendency to increased
' Before the rise of Stockholm Bjbrkb, Sigtuna, and Upsala were
places of great importance. Bjorko (" the isle of birches "), by foreign
authors called Birca, was a kind of capital where the king lived occa-
eionally at least ; history speaks of its relations with Dorestad in the
Netherlands, and the extensive refuse heaps of the old city, as well as
the numerous sepulchral mouuments, show that the population must
have been large. But, though situated at a central point on the Malar
Lake, it .was destroyed, apparently before the beginning of the 1 1th
century, we do not exactly know when nor by whom; and, once de-
stroyed, it never recovered. Sigtuna, lying on the shore of a far-reaching
northern arm of Lake Malar, also a royal residence and the seat of the
first mint in Sweden, where English workmen were employed by King
Olafat the beginning of the 11th aentury, was, though much more
uheltered than Bjbrkb, destroyed in the course of the 12th century
Birger Jarls Torg.
development has steadily showed itself throughout the
Middle Ages and in modern times. On an islet in the
stream, between the original Stockholm and the northern
shore, was founded, in the 14th century, a hospital of the
Holy Ghost, and a new tower was erected to defend the
approach to the city. On another islet closely adjoining
the original Stockholm on the west, a Franciscan monas-
tery was founded towards the end of the 13th century.
The present city has an area of 12 '6 square miles ("44
being water) ; its extreme length from north to south is
about 3 '8 miles and its circumference 14|. The diSerent
parts of the actual city are the following. (1) Siaden is
the old "city"; its ancient origin is apparent in the narrow
and winding streets. The individual houses are not very
old, owing to the ravages of frequent fires ; still, some are
to be seen with very narrow frontage and gables turnefl
towards the street, as in North Germany. The old market,
still called Stortorget ("the great market"), is now oneef
the smallest in Stockholm. The royal palace, aating from
i the Middle Ages, but enlarged and partly rebi;'lt at a later
S T O C K 11 () L M
550
•period, was destroyed by fire in 1G97, the hndy of Charles
XI. being witli difficulty rescued from the flames. A new
palace, after plans by Nicodemus Tessin, was not com-
pleted (owing to wars and the general distress) until 17."i4 ;
it is a quadrangular structure on the summit of the hill,
with two wings towards the east and four towards the
west (two straight and two in a semicirtL). The style of
the building is noble and refined, the royal apartments rich
in treasures of art. In the immediate vicinity of the palace
is the church of St Nicholas, the oldest in Stockholm, but
in many parts changed from what it was ; the chancel was
demolished in the IGth century to give more room foi
the palace. Staaon is the commercial centre of the city,
containing the exchiingf, the bank f 'Sweden, and the
custom-house, as well as the offices of many merchants. On
the eastern side a very large ijuay, called the Skeppsbrc
(" the bridge of ships "), extends from the statue of Gus-
tavus lit. opposite the palace to where the traffic between
Lake Malar and the Baltic is carried on through a sluice
or lock. The Skeppsbro is tije landing-place tor steamers
to the northern provinces of Sweden and foreign ports.
On the other side of the palace is the Kanslihus, con-
taining the offices of most of the ministries; and a little
farther on is a market, named from the palace on its
northed, side, the Eiddarhus, belonging to the Swedi^^h
nobility. The principal hall of the Riddarhus has its walls
adorned with the armorial bearings of the noble families
of Sweden. The representatives of these families meet
here every third year for consultation as to their common
interests. In front of the building stands the statue -.f
Gustavus I. The town-hall stands in the same square.
(2) Riddarholmen contains the old Franciscan church,
which, however, is not now used for divine service. Since
the time of Gustrwus Adolphus it has been the burial-jilaoe
of the royal family; it also contains many trophies from
the European wars of Sweden. On one side of the church
stand the houses of parliament ; on the other is the statue
of Birger Jarl, the founder of Stockholm. A large part of
the island is occupied by Government offices, including the
record office Along the shore most of the steamers for
different parts of Lake Jliilar and farther on through
the canal of Sodertelge, for the Baltic, have their landing-
places. (3) lldgeamhholmen ("the isle of the Holy
Ghost ") is at present occupied by the royal stables. The
Norrbro (" north bridge"), connecting the old town with
the northern shore, passes the eastern extremity of the
island. (4) jVbn-ma/mf;i ("the northern suburb ") begins
at the Norrbro with the market of Gustavus Adolphus,
where his statue stands between the theatre royal and
the crown prince's palace. Norrmalmen is one of the bcst-
Luilt parts of the city, with broad straight streets ; it
contains four parish churches and also tho> English church,
the Roman Catholic church, and the Jewish synagogue.
In the south-eastern corner is a large open space, Kungs-
triidgarden ("the ro3-al garden"), with the statues of Charles
XII. and Charles XIII. and a fountain, one of the prin-
cipal playgrounds for "hildren Near it is another park,
with the statue of Rerzelius. Norrmalmen has several
public buildings, such as tlie post-office, the principal rail-
way station, the academy of art, the academy of sciences,
the high technical school, and the school of metallurgy, the
technical school, the observatory, ttc. On the northern side
of Norrmalmen lies tlic principal cemetery. (5) Blasie-
holmi'n, united witn i-Torrraalmcn since the filling up of the
canal which formerly separated them, contains the national
museum, the academy of music, kc. (6^ Skeppsholmen
("the isle of ships") and (7) CasldUiolmen both belong to
^he admiralty. (8) A'i(itf/s/iolmen {" tho isle of the king"),
to the west of Norrmalmen, contains a parish churcli, the
iumt, the high school of medicine, several hospitals, and
many factorius. ('J) L'lrlvfi'irdslandet takes its name frcm
the farm yard {Indnriard) of the royal castle, which formerly
occupied a great part of its area. It became a part of the
city in the middle of the 17th century, but until recently
played a very subordinate part, owing to want of water.
Since the introduction of the new water-sui)ply this part
of Stockholm has grown wonderfully, and is now the finest
part of the city, with more than 40,000 inhabitants. It
has a fine park, Iluinlegardeii ("hop garden"), with th.o
ri.y^! li'-rary md the statue of Linna;us. Most of the
barracks of Stockholm, as well as the high military school,
art situated in tnis quarter of the town. (10) Djuryurdoi
("deer garden") is a royal park, with villas, restaurants,
shipbuilding yards, ic. (11) Sljderra'ilmen (" the southern
suburb") is separated from Staden by the sluice already
mentioned. On an open space at the side of the channel
stands the statue of Charles XIV. (Bernadotte). The larger
])art of this suburb, with its two parish churches, chapehs,
hospital.s, (tc, stands at a considerable elevation, and com-
munication has been facilitated by the construction of two
elevators. On the outskirts are factories, foundries, &c.
A gl.mce at the map at once shows how important have been its
water-facilities in forming the character of Stockholm. From all
si'les the water permeates the diircieiit parts of tlie city, separating
them, yet at the same time helping to unite them. Stretching
far away to oast and to west between shores auJ islands sometimes
open and cultivated, sometimes rocky and covered with trees, the
water entices the inhabitants to make excursions and to reside
for a part of the year in the country ; in the summer the city is
largely deserted. The site is universally recognized as extremely
picturesque. The great water-surface has also a beneficent influence
upon the climate. In 1884 the mean temperature was 42°'47 Fahr.,
the highest temperature of the year being 7'2°'4 Fahr. (2nd and
5th July), the lowest -0°'4 Fahr. (30th November). The year's
rainfall amounted to 183 inches, the number of rainy days being
129. Tlie best time for visiting Stockholm is the latter half of
June, when the evening and morning lights, reflected from the
water and seen through the young and luxuiiant verdure, produce
singularly beautiful and varied cflects.
In Sweden the cities formerly played a comparatively subordinate
part. During the Swedish Middle Ages the prominent classes were
the nobility, the clergy, and the peasantry. The anti-aristocratio
revolution of the 14th and the Ijth centuries had in Sweden its
principal supporters among the peasants. But the importance of
the cities has gradually increased, and recent times have witnessed
an accelerated development, which is best exemplified by the
history of Stockholm. The numlier of inhabitants was, in 1800,
75..517; in 1325, 79,473; in 1850, 93,070; in 1860, 112,391; in
1870, 136,016; in 1880, 163,775; in 1884, 205,123; and in
December 1885, 215,688. In 1884 11,916 were qualified to take
part in the election of members of the lower house of parliament.
Along with the rapid increase of population went a correspondingly
increased industrial activity and a considerable development in the
means of communication. The number of mechanics in 1884 was
11,064 (8716 of the wage-earning class), the corresponding numbers
for 1880 being 9664 and 7483. The number of factories in 1884
was 275, employing 9810 workpeople (including 2638 women), and
producing to the value of 32,355,566 Swedish crowns (£1,797,631).
The merchants in 1884-numbored 3828, with 6564 assistants. In
the same year 37,561 vessels entered (21,460 steamers), while 37,699
(21,565 steamers) cleared. Of these 1688 entered from and 1159
cleared for foreign ports. In former times Stockholm had the com-
mand of all the foreign commerce for the country round Lake
Jlalar, and for tho whole of northern Sweden; but more recently
the northern cities have made themselves to a certain extent iude-
pendeiit of the capital.
For communication between tho different parts of Stockholm
omnibuses and small rowing boats have now given place to small
steamers; in 1884 sixty-three of these were in use in the city and
its immediate vicinity. In 1880 tramways were constructed for
St,aden, Norrmalmen, Kungsholmen, and Lndugdrdslandct
The city forms a separate administrative district under a gov-
ernor {b/iiersl&th&llarc). In ecclesiastical matters it belongs to
the archbishopric of Upsala, and tho archbishop has the right to
pre.iide in its consistory, of which tho president generally is the
jmslor primarius, the rector of St Nicholas. Tho members uf this
chnsistory are the rectors of tho other seven territorial mrishus and
the lectors of the Finnish and German congregations. Theiu is also
a court consistory, iiresided over by the chief court preacher.
It was not until modern times thot Stockholm becamo the
capital of Sweden. Tho inedixval kings visited year by yoM
560
S T O — S T 0
different parts of the kingdom, whfeire they lived for a shorter or
longer time. Wlien, from the development of state affairs, the
need of a capital came to be felt, no city could compete with the
claims of Stockholm. It is the usual residence of the king ; in tlie
summer he lives generally in one of the palaces in the neighbour-
hood ; some part of every year he passes in his Norwegian capital.
The supreme court of justice has its seat in Stockholm, as well as
the Svea HofraXt, the ne-tt highest tribunal for central and northern
Sweden. It is also the seat of all the other central governmenlal
boards.
Stockholm is also the seat of seven academies. (1) The Swedish
Academy, with eighteen members, founded in 1786, deals with
the language and literature of Sweden. It is engaged upon a
Swedish dictionary, and celebrates every year the memory of some
renowned Swede. (2) The academy of sciences, founded in 1739,
v.ith 100 ordinary members, distributed into nine classes, and
75 foreign members, has charge of the royal museum of natural
j.istory, the physical, astronomical, and meteorological institutes,
.'.nd the botanical garden. (3) The academy of belles lettres,
history, and antiquities, founded in 1753, reformed in 1786, now
occupies itself only with history and antiquities ; it hasl4 honorary
members, 20 ordinary members, 16 foreign members and corre-
spondents. The secretary of this academy is, at the same time,
-s royal antiquary of Sweden and garde des medailles, director of
the archffiological, historical, and nvunismatical' state collections,
ind inspector of the antiquities of the kingdom. (4) The academy
of agriculture, founded in ISll, with 24 honorary members, 136
ordinary and 75 foreign members, occupies itself with agriculture
and fisheries. It has an e.tperimental institution for agricultural
chemistry, physiology of plants, gardening, and practical agricul-
ture. (5) The academy of fine arts, founded in 1735, has charge
of the official school of art. (6) The academy of music, founded in
1771, has the care of the state conservatory of music. (7) The
academy of military sciences was founded in 1796. Each of these
academies is a distinct body: most of them publish their trans-
actions, and each has its own library.
There are several private societies of a scientific character, such
as the society for publication of historical documents, the historical
society, the society of anthropology and geography, the society of
national antiquities, the geological society, the society of natural
sciences, the entomological so>.icty, &c.
Stockholm has no state university, but there is a high school
of medicine {Caroliiiika Listitute), which has several professors
of mathematics and natural science. The city has also a high tech-
nical school, a technical school, a high militar)- school, and a
military school (in the palace of Carlberg, outside of the city), a
veterinary school, a school of pharmacy, seven more or less complete
secondary schools, and two seminaries for female teachers, besides
private schools. The number of pupils in the secondary schools
in 1S84 was 2294 aid in the primary schools 14,351.
The following are the principal public collections. (1) The royal
historical museum (in the national museum) contains a remarkably
rich series of the prehistoric antiquities of the country. Founded in
the 17th century, it has made greatest progress since 1837. (2) The
royal numismatical ccllection (in the national museum) contains
about 90,003 coins and medals. The series of Anglo-Saxon coins
found in Sweden is very important. (3) The numismatical collec-
tion of the Bank of Sweden (in the bank offices) contains very good
series of Swedish coins and medals. (4) The royal collection of
armour and royal dresses (in the royal palace) is very rich in speci-
mens of the 17th and ISth centuries. (6) The royal museum of fine
and industrial arts (in the national museum) contains sculptures,
pictures, engravings, drawings, &c. The collection of Swedish art
is, of course, very rich. Of foreign schools that of the Netherlands
is best represented. The collection illustrating the development
of industrial arts consists principally of gifts of Charles XV. and
Covmt A. Bjelke. (6) The royal museum of natural history (in
the palace of the academy of sciences), witH very rich zoological,
botanical, palseontological, aud mineral series, is exceedingly rich
in objects from the arctic regions. Other collections deserving
mention are (7) the museum of the geological survey of Sweden ; (8)
the museum of the school of medicine,,; (9) the northern museum,
a private institution, a very rich coUeUion representing the life of
all social classes of the north ; (lOj the royal library, very rich in
books and manuscripts ; and (11) the royal archives.
See Elers, StocUiolm, i vols., 1800-liOl ; I'erliii, SlackAolmi Stad; Birallelser
an^aoide StocJiholms Koinmi:na!/(jriai:jtiu'j, (U. til.).
STOCKINGS. See HosuiKY.
STOCKPORT, a market-town and municipal and
parliamentary borougli of England, in Chesliire and partly
in Lancashire, is situated on an elevation above the
Mersey at the junction of the Tame and Goyt, and of a
number of railway lines, 46 mOes east-north-east of Chester,
37 east of Liverpool, and 6 south-south-east of Manchester.
Owing to the lie of the ground the streets are very irre-
gular and uneven, and occasi«.,nalIy precipitous, while in
the south they rise above the river in tiers. The Mersey
is crossed by a number of bridges, including one of eleven
arches opened in 1826 at a cost of £40,000. None of the
ecclesiastical buildings are of special interest, the principal
being the church of St Mary, erected in 1817, at a cost of
£30,000, on the site of one of the 15th century, of which
the chancel and vestry remain. The free grammar school
was founded and endowed in 1487 by Sir Edwara Shaa
or Shaw, knight. The present building was erected in
1831 by the Goldsmiths' Company, who further endowed
it \>'ith £290 a year, and handed it over to the corpora-
tion. The Stockport Sdnday school, erected in 1805, has
accommodation for 4000 scholars. There is a free public
library, established in 1875. The principal public build-
ings are the court-house, the market-house, the union
workhouse, the mechanics' institutej the infirmary, the
institution for the blind and deaf and dumb, and the fine
new public baths. In St Peter's Square there is a statue,
unveiled 27th November 1883, of Richard Cobden, who
was elected member for the borough in 1841 and 1847.
Vernon Park, finely situated about a mile from the town,
contains a free museum, buUt in 1 858 at the expense of
the members for the borough, and since enlarged by the
corporation. The staple industries are the spinning and
weaving of cotton and felt-hat making. There are also
breweries, foundries, machine-works, and flour-mills. The
limits of the municipal and parliamentary boroughs are
co-extensive. The area is 2200 acres, with a population
in 1871 of 53,014 and in 1881 of 59,553.
Though not referred to in any of the Roman itineraries, and
possessing neither Roman nor Saxon remains, Stockport is supposed
to have been a Roman camp or outpost, which occupied the hill en
which the Normans afterwards built a baronial castle. It is not
mentioned in Domesday. Tlie castle was held in 1173 by Geoffrey
de Costentj'n against Henry II., but whether in his own right or
not is uncertain. In the beginning of the 13th century it was
possessed by the first Baron Ranulf de Dapifer, progenitor of the
Despensers, from whom it passed to Robert de Stockeport, who in
the reign of Henry II!. made the town a free borough, and in 1260
received for it from the earl of Chester the grant of a market. The
town was visited by the plague in 1605-6. It was of some import-
ance during the Civil War, and was taken by the Royalists un der
Prince Rupert in May 1644. During the insurrection of 1745
Prince Charles Edward rested at the town on the 28th November.
The town was enfranchised in 1832, with the right, which it still
retains, of returning two members, and was incorporated under tha
Corporations Act in 1835.
STOCKS, as a form of punishment, are now quite
obsolete. They were originally. established in England
after the passing of the Statute of Labourers, 23 Edw.
III. c. 1. That Act enjoined that stoclis (ceppes) should
be made in every town between the passing of the Act
and Pentecost of that year (1350). By numerous other
statutes, until comparatively modern times, the punish-
ment of the stocks was inflicted for ofi'ences of a less
heinous kind, e.^r., breaclies of the Sunday Observance
Acts of Charles I. and Charles II. In the United States
the stocks were formerly used as a means of punisIuDg
slaves.
STOCKTON, a city of the United States, county seat
of San Joaquin county, California, at the head of the
Stockton navigable channel which joins the San Joaquin
river, and 48 miles south-south-east of Sacramento, by
the western division of the Central Pacific Railroad. It is
the business centre of the San Joaquin valley, a great
wheat market, and the seat of the State lunatic asylum
(founded in 1S53). Artesian wells 80 to 1000 feet deep
pro\-ide the city with a perennial supply of water. Two
public libraries, several public schools, and a convent may
be mentioned among its important institutions; and it
manufactures leather, agricultural implements, paper, flour,
&c. The population was 10,063 in 1870 and 10,282 in
S T O — S T O
56'1
1880. )Stockton was laid out lu 1849, and was incor-
porated as a city in 1S50.
STOCKTOX-OX-TEES, a inarket-town and municipal
and parliamentary borougb and seaport of Uurham. on
tlie borders of the Xortli Hiding of Yorkshire, into which
the parliamentary borough extends, is situated on the Tees,
which is ci'ONsed by an iron bridge (coniiiletcd in 1S87 at
a cost over £SO.COO, to .suiicrsede the stone bridge of 17G9)
loading to South Stockton, and on the Stockton and Par-
lington and the' Sunderland and West Hartlepool brandies
of the Xorth-Eastern Railway, 20 miles south-south-east of
Durham, and 4 miles west-south-west of Middlesborough.
The princiiial street is about a mile in length. Of the
ancient castle commanding the Tees, which was destroyed
in 1G52, the last remains were removed in 1S65. Among
the principal public buildings are the town-hall, with a
clock-tower «nd spire, the borough hall (erected in 1S52 at a
cost of £32,000), the freemasons' hall, the temperance hall,
the theatre, the exchange hall, the literary institute, the
hospital, the dispensary, the free library, and the blue-coat
school. Stockton is a seaport of considerable importance.
The management of the Tees, vested in 1808 in the Teee
Navigation Company, was in 18.')2 vested in the Tees
Conservancy Commissioners, incorporated by Act of Parlia-
ment, under whose auspices the river has been greatly
improved. The trade of the port is chiefly with Holland
and the ports of the Baltic, and there is a considerable
coasting trade with the Tyue ports and with Hull and
London. Its chief exports are iron manufactures, coal,
coke, and agricultural produce, the average annual value
for the five years 1S80-84 being about £72,000. The
principal imports are timber, iron, grain, and provisions,
the average annual value for the five years 1880-84 being
about £240,000. In 18S.5 the number of, vessels that
entered the port was 649, of 149,628 tons, the number
that cleared 700, of 175,647 tons. The rapid increase of
the town within the last quarter of a century is largely
owing to the development of the iron and steel trade
in the district. There are extensive steel works, blast-
furnaces, iron and brass foundries, and rolling-mills, and
iron-shipbuilding is also an important industry. There
are also sailcloth works, potteries, breweries, and brick
and tile works. The population of the municipal borough
(area 1189 acres) in 1871 was 27,738, and in 1881 it was
41,015. The population of the parliamentary borough
(area 7157 acres) in the same years was 37,612 and
55,457. The parliamentary borough includes the suburb
of South Stockton on the opposite side of the river, forming
a separate urban sanitary district (area 1052 acres), with
a populatfon in 1871 of 6794 and in 1881 of 10,665. It
has a temperance hall, a mechanics' institute, and a national
school, and its manufactures are similar to those of Stockton.
' The iilace i.s of great aiitiauitj', and i.s supposed to have been
occupied by the Romans. Belore the Conquest tlio mauor belonged
to the see of Durliam. It was probably first incorporated by Bishop
Hugh de Pudscy, who in tlie reign of Richard I. occupied the castle.
The castle, which was for a long tinio the residence of tlio bisliops,
Btood on the north bauk of the Tees. Tho town was destroyed by
the Scots in 1322, but tho castle seems to have escaped. During
the Civil War it was garrisoned for tlie king, but was afterwards
delivered up to the Parliamentary party, and in 1045 was held by
the Scots. The town suffered severely from inundations of the
Tecs in 1771, 1783, and 1822. Thougli Stockton was placed under
the Municipal Act of 1835 it remained divided into two ports, tho
one called tho "borough," where the land was freehold, governed
by tho corporation, and the other called tho " town," where tho
land was copyhold or leasehold, held under tho vicar and vestry-
men, and outside tho corporate jurisdiction. To remedy this state
of matters an "Extension and Improvement Act" was passed in
1862. The town was enfranchised in 1807, and returns ono member.
STOICS, a school of philosophers founded at the close
of the 4th century B.C. by Zeno of Citium. and so called
from the Stoa or naiutud corridor ((xtou. ttuikLKi]) on the
2-2 -21
north sido of the market-place at Athens, which, after its
restoration by Cimon, the celebrated painter Polygnotus
had adorned with frescos representing scenes from the
Trojan War. But, though it arose on Hellenic soil, from
lectures delivered in a public place at Athens, the school
ii scarcely to be considered a product of purely Greek
intellect, but rather as the firstfruits of that interacticn
between West and East which followed the conquests of
Alexander. Hardly a single Stoic of eminence was a
citizen of any city in the heart of Greece, unless we make
Aristo of Chios. Cleanthes of Assus,' and Pansetius oi
Rhodes exceptions. Such lands as Cyprus, Cilicia, and
•Syria, such cities as Citium, Soli, Heraclea in Pontus,
Sidon, Carthage, Seleucia on the Tigris, ApameS by the
Orontes, furnished the school with its scholars and presi-
dents; Tarshs, Rhodes, and Ale'xandria became famoiu
as its university towns. As the first founder was of Phoe-
nician descent, so he drew most of his adherents from the
countries which were the seat of Hellenistic (as distinct
from Hellenic) civilization ; iior did Stoicism achieve its
crowning triumph until it was brought to Rome, where
the grave earnestness of the national character could
appreciate its doctrine, and where for two centuries or
more it was the creed, if not the philosophy, of all the
best of the Romans. Properly therefore it stands in
marked antithesis to that fairest growth of old Hellas, the
Academ}-, which saw the Stoa rise and fall, — the one the
typical school of Greece and Greek intellect, the other of
the Hellenized East, and, under the early Roman empire,'
of the whole civilized world. The transcendent genius
of its author, the vitality and romantic fortunes of his
doctrine, claim our warmest sympathies for Platonism.
But it should not be forgotten that for more than foiu
centuries the tide ran all the other way. It Was Stoicism,
not Platonism, that filled men's imagmations, and exerted
the wider and more active influence upon the ancient world
at some of the busiest and most important times in all
history. And this was chiefly because before all things it
■was a practical philosophy, a rallying point for strong and
noble spirits contending against odds. X'evertheless, in'
some departments of theory, too, and notably in ethics and
jurisprudence, Stoicism has dominated the thought of after
ages to a degree not easy to exaggerate.
The history of the Stoic school may conveniently be
divided in the usual threefold manner : the old Stoa, the
middle or transition period (Diogenes of Seleucia, Boethus
of Sidon; Panajtius, Posidoniiis), and the later Stoicism of
Roman times. By the old Stoa is meant the period
(c. 304-205 B.C.) down to the death of Chrysippus, the
second founder ; then was laid the foundation of theory, to
which hardly anything of importance was afterwards added.
Confined almost to Athens, the school made its way slowly
among many rivals. Aristo of Chios and Hcrillus of
Carthage, Zeno's heterodox pupils, Persaeus, his favourite
disciple and housemate, the poet Aratus, and Sphasrus, the
adviser of the Spartan king Cleomenes, are noteworthy
minor names ; but the chief interest centres about Zeno,
Cleanthes, Chrysippus, who in succession built up the
wondrous system. What originality it had — at first sight
it would seem not much — belongs to these thinkers ; but
tho loss of all their works except the hymn of Cleanthes,
and the inconsistencies in such scraps of information as
can be gleaned from unintelligent witnesses, for tho moat
part of many centuries later, have rendered it a peculiarly
difficult task to distinguish with certainty the work of each
of the three. Tho common stahd|)oint, the relation to
contemporary or earlier systems, with all that goes to make
up tho character and s])irit of Stoicism, t&D, fortunuttly,
be more certainly established, and may with rcaM>ii bo
attributed to the founder. Zeno's residence at Athens
662
STOICS
fell at a time wheu the great movement which Socrates
originated had spent itself in the second generation of
his spiritual descendants. Neither Theophrastus at the
Lyceum, nor Xenocratea and Polemo at the Academy, nor
Btilpo, who was drawing crowds to hear him at Jlegara,
eould, be said to have inherited much of the great
reformer's intellectual vigour, to say nothing of his moral
earnestness. Zeno visited all the schools in turn, but
seems to have attached himself definitely to the Cynics ;
as a Cynic he composed at least one of his more important
Jvorks, "the much admired Republic," which we know to
have been later on a stumbling-block to the school. In
the Cynic school he found the practical spirit which he
iivined to be the great need of that stirring troublous age.
For a while his motto must have been " back to Socrates,"
0* at least " back to Antisthenes." The Stoics always
Sounted themselves amongst the Socratic schools, and
tanonized Antisthenes and Diogenes ; while reverence for
Socrates was the tie which united to them such an accom-
plished writer upon lighter ethical topics as the versatile
Persseus, who, at the capital of Antigonus Gonatas, with
hardly anything of the professional philosopher about him,
reminds us of Xenophon, or even Prodicus. Zeno com-
menced, then, as a Cynic ; and in the developed system we
can point to a kernel of Cynic doctrine to which various
philosophemes of other thinkers (more especially Hera-
elitus and Aristotle, but also Diogenes of Apollonia, the
Pythagoreans, and the medical school of Hippocrates in a
lesser degree) were added. Thus, quite apart from the
general similarity of their ethical doctrine, the Cynics were
materialists ; they were also nominalists, and combated
the Platonic ideas ; in their theory of knowledge they made
use of "reason" (Xdyos), which was also one of their leading
ethical conceptions. In all these particulars Zeno followed
them, and the last is the more important, because,
Chrysippus having adopted a new criterion of truth, — a
clear and distinct perception of sense, — it is only from
casual notices we learn that the elder Stoics had approxi-
mated to Cynicism in making right reason the standard
At the same time, it is certain that the main outlines of
the characteristic physical doctrine, which is after all the
foundation of their ethics and logic, were the work of
Zeno. The Logos, which had been an ethical or psycho-
logical principle to the Cynics, received at his hands an
extension throughout the natural world, in which Hera-
clitean influence is unmistakable. Pieading the Ephesiau
doctrine with the eyes of a Cynic, and the Cynic ethics
in the light of Heracliteanism, he came to formulate his
distinctive theory of the universe far in advance of either
In taking this immense stride and identifying the Cynic
"reason," which is a law for ra^n, with the "reason"
which is the law of the universe, Zeno has been compared
with Plato, who similarly e.xtended the Socratic " general
notion" from the region of morals, — of justice, temperance,
virtue, — to embrace all objects of all thought, the verily
of all things that are. If the recognition of physics and
kgic as two studies co-ordinate with ethics is sufficient to
differentiate the mature Zeno from the Cynic author of
the Republic, no less than from his own heterodox disciple
^risto, the elaboration on all sides of Stoic natural philo-
jophy belongs to Cleanthes, who certainly was not the
merely docile and receptive intelligence he is sometimes
represented as being. He carried on and completed the
assimilation of Herachtean doctrine; but his own con-
tributions were more distinctive and original than those of
any other Stoic. Zeno's seeming dualism of God (or force)
and formless matter he was able to transform into the lofty
pantheism which breathes in every line of the famous
hymn to Zeus. Heraclitus had indeed declared all to be
in flux, bat we ask in vain what is the cause for the
unceasing proce.'ss of his ever-living tiro. It was left fo»
Cleanthes to discover this motive cause in a conception
familiar to Zeno, as to the Cynics before him, but restricted
to the region of ethics,— the conception of tension or effort.
The soul of the sage, thought the Cynics, should be strained
and braced for judgment and action ; his first need is
firmness (curona) and Socratic strength. But the mind
is a corporeal thing. Then followed the flash of genius :
this varying .tension of the one substance everywhere
present, a purely physical fact, accounts for the diverse
destinies of all innumerable particular things ; it is the
veritable cause of the flux and process of the universe.
Herein lies the key to the entire system of the Stoics, as
Cleanthes's epoch-making discovery continually received
fresh applications to physics, ethics, and epistemology.
Other of his innovations, the outcome of his crude
materialism, found less favour with his successor, who
declined to follow him in identifying the primary substance
with fire, or in tracing all vitality to its ultimate source
in the sun, the " ruling power " of the world, — a curious
anticipation of scientific truth. Yet under this poetical
Heraclitean mystic the school was far from flourishing.
The eminent teachers of the time are said tc have been
Aristo, Zeno's heterodox pupil, and Arcesilas, who in
Plato's name brought IMegarian subtleties and Pyrrhonian
agnosticism to bear upon the intruding doctrine ; and
after a vigorous upgrowth it seemed not unlikely to die
ont. From all danger of such a fate it was rescued by
its third great teacher, Chrysippus; "but for Chrysippus
there had been no Porch." Zeno had caught the practical
spirit of his age,— the desire for a popular philosophy to
meet individual needs. But there was another tendency
in post-Aristotelian thought, — to lean upon authority and
substitute learning for independent research, — which grew
stronger just in proportion as the fresh interest in the
problems of the universe and the zeal for discovery
declined, — a shadow, we may call it, of the coming
Scholasticism thrown a thousand years in advance. The
representative of this tendency, C'hrysijjpus addressed
himself to the congenial ta-^k of assimilating, developing,"
systematizing the doctrines bequeathed to him, and, above
all, securing them in their stereotyped and final form, not
simply from the as.saults of the past, but, as after a long
and successful career of controversy and jiolemical author-
ship he fondly hoped, from all possible attack in the future.
To his pergonal characteristics can be traced the hair-
splitting and formal pedantry which ever afterwards marked
th» activity of the school, the dry reiiellent technical pro-
cedure of the Dialecticians par exrtllence, as they were
called. He created their formal logic and dontrilnited
much that was of value to their psychology and episcem-
ology ; but in the main his work was to new-label and
new-arrange in every department, and to lavish most
care and attention on the least important parts, — the
logical terminology and the refutation of fallacies, or, as
his opponents declared, the excogitation of fallacies which
even he could not refute. In his R'puLlic Zeno had gone
so far as to declare the routine education of the day (e.f/.,
mathematics, grammar, ic.) to be of no use. Such Cynic
crudity Chrysippus rightly judged to be out of keeping
with the requirements of a great dogmatic school, and he
laboured on all sides after thoroughness, erudition, and
scientific completeness. In short, Chrysippus made the
Stoic system what it was, and as he left it we proceed to
describe it.
And first we will inquire. What is philosophy V No
idle gratification of curiosity, as Aristotle fabled of his
life intellectual (which would be but a disguioo for refined
pleasure), no theory divorced from practice, no pursuit of
science for its own sake, but knowledge so far forth aa it
S T 0 1 G o
663
can be uealizcd in virtuona action, tbe learning of virtue
by exercise and effort and training. So absolutely is the
" rare and priceless wisdom " for which we strive identical
with virtue itself that the three main divisions of pliilo-
sophy current at the time and accepted by Zeno, — logic,
physics, and ethics, — are defined as the most generic or
comprehensive virtues. How otherwise could they claim
our .attention 1 Accordiogly Aristo, holding to Cynicism
when Zeno himself had got beyond it, rejected two of
these parts of philosophy as useless and out of reach, —
a- divergence which excluded him from the school, but
strictly consistent with his view that" ethics alctae is
scientific knowledge. Of the three divisions logic is the
least important ; ethics is the outcome of the whole, and
historically the all-important vital element ; but the
foundations of the whole system are best discerned in
the science of nature, which deals pre-eminently with the
macrocosm and the microcosm, the universe and man,
includin/'/ natural theology and an anthropology or psycho-
logy, the latter forming the direct introduction to ethics.
The fjtoic system is in brief^(a) materialism, (h) dynamic
materialism, lastly (c) monism or pantheism, (a) The first
of these characters is described by anticipation in Plato's
Sophist (246 C sq.), where, arguing with those " who drag
everything down to the corporeal " {pu>ixa), the Eleatic
stranger would fain prove to them the existence of some-
thing incorporeal, as follows. " They admit the existence of
an animate body. la soul then something existent {ova-la) ?
Yes. And the qualities of soul, as justice and wisdom —
are they visible and tangible 1 No. Do they then exist 1
They are in a dilemma." Now, however effective against
Plato's contemporary Cynics or Atomists, the reasoning
is thrown away upon the Stoics, who take boldly the
one horn of this dilemma. That qualities of bodies (and
therefore of the corporeal soul) exist they do not deny ;
but they assert most uncompromisingly that they are
one and all (wisdom, justice, &c.) corporeal. And they
strengthen their position, by taking Plato's own definition
(247 "Di, namely, "being is that which has the power to
act or be acted upon," and turning it against him. For
this is only true of Body ; action, except by contact, is
inconceivable ; and they reduce every form of causation
to the efficient cause, which implies the communication of
motion from one body to another. Again and again,
therefore, only Body exists. The most real realities to
Plato and Aristotle had been thought and the objects of
thought, voSs and vojjra, whether abstracted from sensibles
or inherent in " matter," as the incognizable basis of all
concrete existence. But this was too great an effort to
last long. Such spiritualistic theories were liowhere rcaUy
maintained after Aristotle and outside the circle of his
immediate followers. The reaction came and left nothing
of it all; for five centuries the dominant tone of the older
and the newer schools alike was frankly materialiatia
"If," says Aristotle, "there Ls no other' substance but the
organic substances of nature, physics will be the highest
of the sciences," a conclusion which passed for axiomatic
until the rise of Neoplatonism. The analogues therefore
of metaphysical problems must be sought in physics ;
particularly that problem of the causes of things for which
the Platonic idea and the Peripatetic "constitutive form,"
had been in turn received solutions. (/>) But the doctrine
that all existence is confined within the limits of the
sensible universe, — that there is no being save corporeal
being or body, — Kloes not suffice to characterize the Stoic
system ; it is no less a doctrine of the Epicureans. It is
the idea of tension as the essential attribute, of body, in
contradistinction to passive inert matter, which is dis-
tinctively Stoia. The Epicureans leave unexplaiced tho
primary constitution and first movements of their atoms |
or elemental solids ; chance or declination may account
for them. Now, to the Stoics nothing passes unexplained ;
there is a reason (Aoyos) for everything in nature. Every-
thing which exists is at once capable of acting and being
acted upon. In everything that exists, therefore, even
the smallest particle, there are these two principles. By
virtue of the passive principle the thing is susceptible of
motion and modification ; it is matter which determines
substance {oicrla). The active princiijle makes the matter
a given determinate thing, characterizing and qualifying
it, whence it is termed quality (jroio'n;?). For all that is
or happens there is an immediate cause or antecedent ;
and as "cause" means "cause of motion," and only body
can act upon body, it follows that this antecedent cause is
itself as truly corporeal as the matter upon which it acts.
Thus we are led to regard the active principle "force" as
everywhere co-extensive with " matter," as pervading and
permeating it, and together with it occupying and filling
space. This is that famous doctrine of universal permea-
tion {xpacris St' oAou), by which the axiom that two bodies
cannot occupy the same space is practically denied. Thus
that harmony of separate doctrines which contributes to
the impressive simplicity of the Stoic physics is only
attained at the cost of offending healthy common sense,
for Body itself is robbed of a characteristic attribute. A
thing is no longer, as Plato once thought, hot or hard or
bright by partaking in abstract heat or hardness or bright-
ness, but by containing within its own substance the mate-
rial of these qualities, conceived as air-currents in various
degrees of tension. We hear, too, of corporeal days
and years, corporeal virtues, and actions (like walking)'
which are bodies (o-io/iara). Obviously, again, the Stoic
quality corresponds to Aristotle's essential form ; in both
systems the active principle, " the cause of all that mat-
ter becomes," is that which accounts for the existence
of a given concrete thing (Xoyos t^9 ovcna?). Only here,
instead of assuming something immaterial (and therefore
unverifiable), we fall back upon a current of air or gas
(TTTcC/ia) ; the essential reason of the thing is itself
material, standing to it in the relation of a gaseous to a
solid bc'dy. Here, too, the reason of things — that which
accounts for them — is no longer some external end to which
they are tending ; it is something acting within them, " a
spirit deeply interfused," germinating and developing as
from a seed in the heart of each separate thing that exists
{\oyoi; (Tn-cp/xaTiKo?). By its prompting the thing grows,
develops, and decays, while this "germinal reason," the
element of quality in the thing, remains constant through
all its changes, (c) What then, we ask, is the relation jfattel
between the active and the passive principles t Is there, and
or is there not, an es.sential distinction between substance f*"^*'
or matter and pervading force or cause or quality ? Here
the Stoa shows signs of a development.of doctrine. Zeno'
began, perhaps, by adopting . the formulas of the Peri-
patetics, though no doubt with a conscious difference,
postulating that form was always attached to matter, no
less than matter, as known to us, is everywhere shaped or
informed. Whether he ever overcame the dualism which
the sources, such as they are, unanimously ascribe to him
is not clearly ascertained. It seems probable that ho did
not. But wo can answer authoritatively that to Cleanthes
and Chrysippas, if not to Zeno, there was no real difference
between matter and its cause, which is always a corporea:
current, and therefore matter, althout'h- tho finest and
subtlest matter. In fact they have readied tho final result
of unveiled hylozoism, from which tho distinction of the
active and passive principles is discerned to be a merely
formal concession to Aristotle, a legacy from his dualistic
doctrine. His technical term Form (cKot) they never use,
but always Keasoo or Qod. This was.oot the first time
564
STOICS
that approaches had been made to . such a doctrine, and
Diogenes of Apollonia in particular was led to oppose
Anaxagoras, who distinguished Nous or Thought from
every other agent within the cosmos which is its work, by
postulating as his first principle something which should
be at once physical substratum and thinking being. But
untU dualism had been thought out, as in the Peripatetic
school, it was impossible that monism (or at any rate
materialistic monism) should be definitely and consciously
maintained. One thing is certain : the Stoics provided
no loophole of escape by entrenching upon the "purely
material " nature of matter ; they laid down with rigid
accuracy its two chief properties, — extension in three
dimensions, and resistance, both being traced back to
force. There were, it is true, certain inconsistent concep-
tions, creations of thought to which nothing real and
external corresponded, namely, time, space, void, and the
idea expressed in language (Acktw). But this inconsist-
ency was. covered by another : though each of these might
be said to be something, they could not be said to exist.
The distinction of force aud matter is then something transitory
and relative. -Its history will serre as a sketch of the cosmogony
of the Stoics, for they too, like earlier philosophers, have their
"fairy tale of science. ' Before there was heaven or earth, there
was prunitive suistauce or Pneuma, the everlasting presupposition
of particular things. This is the totality of all existence; out of
it the whole visible universe proceeds, hereafter to be again resolved
Into it. Not the less is it the creative force, or deity, which
develoj)3 aud shapes this universal order or cosmos. To the
auestion, AVhat is God? Stoicism rejoins, ■\\'liat is God not? In
tnis original state of Pneuma God aud the world are absolutely
identical. But even then tension, the essential attribute of matter,
is at work. Though the force working everywhere is one, there
are diversities of its operation, corresponding to various degrees of
tension. In this primitive Pneuma there must reside the utmost
tension aud heat ; for it is a fact of observation that most bodies
expand when heated, whence we infer that there is a pressure in
heat, an expansive aud dispersive tendency. The Pneuma cannot
long withstand this intense pressure. Motion backwards and
forwards once sot up goes to cool the glowing mass of fiery vapour
and to weaken the tension. Hereupon follows the first differentia-
tion of primitive substance, — the separation of force from matter,
the emanation of the world from God. The germinal world-making
powers {airepfiariKol \6yoi), which, in virtue of its tension,
slumbered in Pneuma, now proceed upon their creative task. The
primitive substance, be it remembered, is not Heraclitus's fire
(though Cleanthes also called it flame of fire, 0A<i|) any more tbr.n
it is the air or " breath " of Anaximenes or Diogenes of Apollonia.
QJirysippus determined it, following Zenb, to be fiery breath or
ether, a spiritualized sublimed intermediate element. The cycle
of its transformations and successive condensations constitutes the
life of the universe, the mode of existence proper to finite and
particular being. For the universe and all its parts are only
diiferent embodiments and stages in that metamorphosis of primi-
tive being which Heraclitus had called a progress up and down
(6SJs ii>a KUTin). Out of it is separated, fii'st, elemental fire, the
fire which we know, which burns and destroys ; and this, again,
condenses into air or aerial vapour ; a further step 'Ji tne downward
path derives water and earth from the soUdification of air. At
every stage the degree of tension requisite for existence is slackened,
and the resulting element approaches more and more to "'inert"
matter. But, just as one element does not wholly pass over into
another {e.ff., only a jiart of air is transmuted into water or earth),
80 the Pneuma itself does not wholly pass over ujto the elements.
The residue that remains in origujal purity with its tension yet
nudiminished is the ether in the highest sphere of the visible
heavens, encircling the world of which it is lord and head. From
the elements the one substance is transformed into the multitude
of individual things in the orderly tmiverse, which again is itself
a living thing or being, aud the Pneuma pervading it, and con-
ditioning life and growth everywhere, is it; soul. But this pro-
cess of differentiation is not eternal ; it continues only until the
times of the restoration of all things. For the world which has
grown up will in turn decay. The tension which has been relaxed
will again be tightened ; there will be a gradual resolution of
things into elements, and of elements into the primary substance,
to be consummated in a general conflagration wheu once more the
world will be absorbed in God. Then in due order a new cycle of
development begins, reproducing the last in every minutest detail,
and so o» fcr ever.
The doctrine of Pneuma, vital breath or "spirit," arose in the
medical schools. The simplest reflexion among savages and hulf-
civUized men connects vitality with the air inhaled in respira-
tion; the disciples of Hippocrates, without much modifying this
primitive belief, explained the maintenance of vital warmth to bo
the function of the breath within the organism. In the time of
Alexander the Great Praxagoras discovered the distinction between
the arteries aud the veins. Now in the corpse the former are
empty; hence in tne light of these preconceptions they were
declared to be vessels for conveying Pneuma to the different parts
of the body. A generation afterwards Erasistratus made this' tho
basis of a new theory of diseases aud their treatment. Vital spirit,
inhaled from the outside air, rushes through the arteries till it
reaches the various centres, especially the brain and the heart, and
there causes thought and organic movement But long before this
the peculiar character of air had been recognized as something
intermediate to the corporeal aud the incorporeal : when Diogenes
of Apollonia revived the old Ionian hylozoism in opposition to the
dualism of Anaxagoras, he made this, the typical example ot
matter in the gaseous state, his one element. In Stoicism, for tho
moment, the two conceptions are united, soon, however, to diverge,
— the medical conception to receive its final development under
Galen, while the philosophical conception, passing over to Philo
and others, was shaped aud modified at Alexandria under tho
influence of Judaism, whence it played a gre.at part in the develop-
ments ot Jewish aud Christian theology.
The influence upon Stoicism of Heraclitus has been differently Cor
conceived. Siebeck would reduce it within very small dimensions, to I
but this is not borne out by the concise history found at Hercula- clit
neum (Index Here, ed. Comparetti, col. 4 sq.). They substituted
primitive Pneuma for his primitive fire, but so far as they are hylo-
zoisls at all they stand upon the same ground with him. Moreover,
the commentaries of Cleanthes, Aristo, and Sphterus on Heraclitean
writings (Diog. L., vii. 174, ix. 5, 15) point to common study of
these writings under Zeno. Others again [e.g., Lassalle) represent
the Stoics as merely diluting and distorting Heracliteanism. But
this is altogether wrong, and the proofs offered, when rightly sifted,
are often seeu to rest upon the distortion of Heraclitean doctrine
in the reports of later writers, to assimilate it to the better known
but essentially distinct innovations of the Stoics. In Heraclitns
the constant flux is a metaphysical notion replaced by the inter-
change of material elements which Chrysippus stated as a simple
proposition of physics. Heraclitus offers no analogy to the doctrine
of four (not three) elements as different grades of tension ; to the
conception of fire and air as the "fonn,"in Aristotelian terminology,
of particulars ; nor to the function of organizing fire which works
by methodic plan to produce and preserve the world (irOp Ttx"'" i'
i5f $aStC<ii> iirt yivfdiv KiJ<r/iou). Nor, again, is there any analogy
to the peculiar Stoic doctrine of universal intermingling (KpScris Si
'iXov). The two active elements interpenetrate the two lower or
more relaxed, winding through all parts of matter apd so pervading
the greater masses that there is no wechanical mixture, nor yet a
chemical combination, since both "force" and "matter" retain
their relative characters as before. Even the distinction between
"force" and "matter" — so alien to the spirit of Heraclitus — is seen
to be a necessary consequence. Once assume that every character
and property of a particular thing is determined solely by the
tension in it of a current of Pneuma, and (since that which causes
currents in the thing cannot be absolutely the same with the thing
itself) Pneuma, though present in all things, must be asserted to
vary indefinitely in quantity and intensity. So condensed and
coarsened is the indwelling air-current of inorganic bodies that no
trace of elasticity or life remains ; it cannot even afford them the
power of motion ; all it can do is to hold them together (ffuvcKTiitJ)
Surojiis), and, in technical language, Pneuma is present in stone
or metal as a retaining principle (e{i! = hoId), explaining the attri-
butes of continuity and numerical identity ((ruvtxS <"■! ^fu/ieVa)
which even these natural substances possess. In plants again and
all the vegetable kingdom it is manifest as something far purer
and possessing greater tension, called a "nature," or principle of
growth (0u(ris). Further, a distinction was drawn between irra-
tional animals, or the brute creation, and the rational, i.e., gods
and men, leaving room for a divergence, or rather development,
of Stoic opinion. The older authorities conceded a vital principle,
but denied a soul, to the brutes: animals, they say, are f(?o but
not cfji^uxa. Later on much evidence goes to show that (by a
divergence from the orthodox standard perhaps due to Platonic
influence) it was a Stoic tenet to concede a soul, though not a
rational soul, throughout the animal kingdom. To this higher
manifestation of Pneuma can be traced back the "espTitsanimaux "
of Descartes and Leibnitz, which continue to play so great a part
even in Locke. The universal presence of Pneuma was confirmed
by observation. A certain warmth, akin to the vital heat of organic
being, seems to be found in inorganic nature: vapours from the
earth, hot .springs, sparks from the flint, were claimed as the last
remnant of Pneuma not yet utterly slackened and cold. They
appealed also to the velocity and dilatation of aeriform bodies, to
whirlwinds and inflated balloons. The Logos is quick and power-
ful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the
STOICS
5«5
•Aividing asunder of the join ts and marrow. Tension itself Clean tlies
defined as a fiery fiash (irAij^r) irupo's). ■ Take the fundamental pro-
perties of body — extension and resistance. The former results from
distance; but distances, or dimensions, are straight lines, i.e., lines
of greatest tension (eis &Kpov rtTaiievn). Tension produces dila-
tation, or increase in distance.. Resistance, again, is explained by
cohesion, which implies binding force. Again, the primary substance
has rectilinear motion in two directions, backwards and forwards,
at once a condensation, which produces cohesion and substance, and
a dilatation, the cause of extension and qualities. How near this
comes to the scientific truth of attraction and repulsion need hardly
be noted. From the astronomers the Stoics borrowed their picture
of the universe, — a plenum in the form of a series of layers or con-
centric rings, first the elements, then the planetary and stellar
spheres, massed round the earth as centre,— a picture which
dominated the imagination of men from the days of Eudo.xus down
to those of Dante or even Copernicus. As to the physical consti-
tution of bodies, they were content to reproduce the Peripatetic
doctrine with slight modifications in detail, of hardly any import-
ance when compared with the change of spirit' in the doctrine
taught. But they rarely prosecuted researches in physics or
astronomy, and the newly created sciences of biology and compara-
tive anatomy received no adequate recognition from them.
If, however, in the science of nature the Stoics can
lay claim to no striking originality, the case is different
when we come to the science of man. In the rational
creatures — man and the gods — Pneuma is manifested in
a high degree of purity and intensity as an emanation
from the world-soul, itself an emanation from the primary
substance of purest ether, — a sparlc. of the celestial fire,
or, more accurately, fiery breath, which is a mean between
fire and air, characterized by vital warmth more than by
dryness. The pliysical basis of Stoic psychology deserves
the closest attention. On the one hand, soul is corporeal,
else it would have no real existence, would be incapable of
extension in three dimensions (and therefore of equable
diffusion all over the body), incapable of holding the body
together, as the Stoics contended that it does, herein pre-
senting a sharp contrast to the Epicurean tenet that it is
the body which confines and shelters the light vagrant
atoms of soul. On the other hand, this corporeal thing is
veritably and identically reason, mind, and ruling principle
(Xoyo9, voCs, rjyenoviKov) ; in virtue of its divine origin
Cleanthes can say to Zeus, " We too are thy offspring," and
a Seneca can calmly insist that, if man and God are not
on perfect equality, the superiority rests rather on our
side. What God is for the world that the soul is for man.
The Cosmos must be conceived as a single whole, its
variety being referred to varying stages of condensation in
Pneuma. So, too, the human soul must possess absolute
simplicity, its varying functions being conditioned by the
degrees or species of its tension. It follows that of
"parts" of the soul, as previous thinkers imagined, there
. can be no question ; all that can consistently be main-
tained is that from the centre of the body — the heart — seven
distinct air-currents are discharged to various organs,
■which are so many modes of the one soul's activity.^ The
ethical consequences of this position will be seen at a later
stage. With this psychology is intimately connected the
'Stoic theory of knowledge. From the unity of soul it follows
that all psychical processes, — sensation, assent, impulse, — •
proceed from reason, the ruling part ; that is to say, there
is no strife or division : the one rational soul alone has
sensations, assents to jndgments, is impelled towards
'objects of desire just as much as it thinks or reasons.
Not that all these powers at once reach full maturity.
The soul at first is void of content ; in the embryo it has
iiot developed beyond the nutritive principle of a plant
( />vm<s) : at birth the "ruling part" is a blank tablet,
' These derivative powers include the live senses, speech, and the
reproductive faculty, and they bear to the soul the relation of
qualities to a substance. The ingenious essay of Jlr R. D. Archer
Hind on the Platonic psychology {Jour, of Phi!., vol. x. p. 120)
aims at establishing a parallel unification on the spiritualistic side;
,eomp. JRep., x. 612 A,
although ready prepared to receive writing. Tlvis excludes
all possibility of innate ideas or any faculty akin to
intuitive reason. The source of all our knowledge ia
experience and discursive thought, which manipulates th«
materials of sense. Our ideas are copied from stored-up
sensations. No other theory was possible upon the found-
ation of the Stoic physics.
Note the parallel between the macrocosm and the microcosm.
The soul of the world fills and penetrates it : in like manner, th«
human soul pervades and breathes through all the body, informinf
and guiding it, stamping the man with his essential character oi
rational There is in both alike a ruling part, though this ii
situate in the human heart at the centre, — not in the brain, as th»
analogy of the celestial ether would suggest. Finally, the sam«
cause, a relaxation of tension, accounts for sleep, decay, and death
of mau and for 'the dissolution of the world ; after death the dis-
embodied soul can only maintain its separate existence, even for a
•limited time, by mounting to that region of the universe which ia
akin to its nature. It was a moot point whether all souls so .sur-i
vive, as Cleanthes thought, or the souls of the wise and good alone,>
which was the opinion of Chrysippus ; in any case, sooner or latej
individual souls are merged in the soul of the universe, from which
they proceeded. The relation of the soul of the universe to God
is quite clear: it is an inherent property, a mflde of His activity,
an effluence or emanation from the fiery ether which surrounds th»
universe, penetrating and permeating it. A Stoic might consist*
ently maintain that World-boul, Providence, Destiny, and Germinal
Reason are not mere sj-nonyms, for they express different aspects
of God, different relations of God to things. We find ourselves on
the verge of a system of abstractions, or "attributes turned into
entities," .as barren as any excogitated in medieval times. In a
certain sense, Scholasticism began with Chrysippus. To postuiats
difTerent substances as underlying the different forces of nature
would have been to surrender the fundamental thought of tha
system. What really is — the Pneuma — neither increases nor
diminishes ; but its modes of working, its different currents, can
be conveniently distinguished and enumerated as evidence of so
many distinct attributes.
One inevitable consequence of materialism is that subject and
object can no longer be regarded as one in the act of perception, as
Plato and Aristotle tended to assume, however imperfectly the
assumption was carried out. The presumption of some merely
external connexion, as between any other two corporeal things, ia
alone admissible, and some form of the representative hypothesis
is most easily called in to account for perception. ■ The Stoics
explained it as a transmission of the perceived quality of the object,
by means of the sense organ, into the percipient's mind, the quality
transmitted appearing as a disturbance or impression upon'thi,
corporeal surface of that "thinking thing," the soul. Sight is
taken as the typical sense. A conical pencil of rays diverges- from
the pupil of the eye, so that its base covers the object seen. Jn,
sensation a presentation is conveyed, by an air-current, from' ths
sense organ, here the eye, to the mind, i.e., the soul's "ruling
part " in the. breast ; the presentation, besides attesting its own
existence, gives further information of its object, — visible colour
or size, or whatever be the quality in the thing seen. That Zeno
and Cleanthes crudely compared this presentation to the imprei-
sion which a seal bears upon wax, with protuberances and inden-
tations, while Chrysippus more prudently determined it vaguely
as an occult modification or "mode" of mind, is an- interesting
but not intrinsically important detail. But the mind is no mere
passive recipient of impressions from without, in the view of the
Stoics. Their analysis of sensation supposes it to react, by a
variation in tension, against tho current from the sense-organ ;
and this is the mind's assent or dissent, which is inseparable from
the sense ' presentation. Tho contents of experience are not aU
alike true or valid : hallucination is possible ; here the Stoics join
issue with Epicurus. It is necessary, therefore, that assent should
not bo given indiscriminately ; we must determine a criterion of
truth, a special formal test whereby reason may recognize tho
merely plausible and hold fast tho truo/ In an earlier age such
an inquiry would have seemed superfluous. To Plato aniUAristotle
the nature and operation of thought and reason constitute a
sufficient criterion. Since their day not only had the opposition
between sense and reason broken down, but tho reasoned stti)ticiam
of Pyrrho and Arcesilaus had m.adc the impos.sihility of attaining
truth thoprimary condition of wcllbeing. Yet the standard which
ultimately found acceptance in tho Stoic school was not put for-
ward, in that form, by its founder. Zeno, wo havo reason to
believe, adopted the Cynic Logos for his guidance to truth as well
as to morality. Aa a disciple of tho Cynics ho must have started
with a theory of knowledge somewhat like that developed in tho
third part of Plato's Themtclua (201 C jy.),--that simido ideas arc
given Dy sense, whereas "opinion," which is a complex of simple
ideas, only becomes knowled(?o when joined with Logoa, We mav
666
STOICS
further suppose that the more obvious of Plato's objections had led
to the correction of "reason" into "right reason." However that
may be, it is certain from Aristotle (A'i'c Eth , vi. 13, J144b, 17)
that virtue was defined as a "habit" in accordance with right
reason, and (Diog. Laer., vii. 5i) from that the earlier Stoics made
right reason the standard of truth. The law which regulates
ouraction is thus the ultimate criterion of what we know, ^—practical
cnowledge being understood to be of paramount importance. But
his criterion was open to the persistent attacks of Epicureans and
icademics, who made clear (1) that reason is dependent upon, if
Qot derived from, sense, and (2) that the utterances of reason lack
consistency, Chrysippus, therefore, conceded something to his
opponents when be substituted for the Logos the new standards of
sensation (ato-eTjo-is) and general conception (7rp^A7)i|/is = anticipa-
tion, i.e., the generic type formed in the mmd unconsciously and
spontaneously). At the same tune he was more clearly defining
and safeguarding his predecessors' position. For reason is con-
sistent in the general concejjtions wherein all men agree, because
in all alike they are of spoutaneous growth. Nor was the term
sensation sufficiently definite. The same Chrysippus fixed upon a
certain characteristic of true presentations, which he denoted by
the much disputed term " apjjrehensive " (KaraATjirTiKJ) (pavraata).
Provided the sense organ aud the mmd be healthy, piovided an
external object be really seen or heard, the presentation, in virtue
of its clearness and distinctness, has the power to extort the assent
which it always lies in our power to give or to withhold
Formerly this technical phrase was explained to mean " the
perception which irresistibly compels the subject to assent to it
as true." But this, though apparently supported by Sextus
Empiricus {Adv. Math., vii. 257), is quite erroneous ; for the
presentation is called KaToA7)7rT<!»', as well as KaTa^iiwrtKi]
^a^Tairia, so that beyond all doubt it is something which the
percipient subject grasps, and not that which grasps or "lays hold
of" the percipient. Nor, again, is it wholly satisfactory to explain
Kara\7)7rTi/<>/ as virtually passive, "apprehensible," like its opposite
oKaTaAijTTTos ; for we find avTi\TjTrT iK^t Tuty vTroKdjitvuv used as
an alternative phrase (zb , vii. 248). It would seem that the
perception intended to constitute the standard of truth is one
which, by producing a mental counterpart of a really existent
external thin^, enables the percipient, in the very act of sense, to
"lay hold of" or apprehend an object in virtue of the presentation
or sense impression of it excited m his own miud. The reality of
the external object is a necessary condition, to exclude hallucina-
tions of the senses, the exact correspondence between the external
object and the internal precept is also necessary, but naturally
hard to secure, for bow can we compare the two ? The external
object is known only in perception However, the younger Stoics
endeavoured to meet the assaults of their persistent critic Cameades
by suggesting various modes of testing a single presentation, to see
whether it were consistent with others, especially.snch as occurred
in groups &c. ; indeed, some went so far as to add to the definition
"coming from a real object and exactly corresDonding with it"
the clause "provided it encounter no obstacle."
The same criterion was available for knowledge derived more
directly from the intellect. Like all materialists, the Stoics can
only distinguish the sensible from the intelligible as thinking
when the external object is present (ai<rddveiT0ai) and thinking
when it is absent (iyyofTn). The product of the latter kind
includes memory (though this is, upon a strict analysis, something
intermediate) and conceptions or general notions, under which w^re
confusedly classed the products of the imaginative faculty. The
■work of the mind is seeu first in "assent"; if to a true presenta-
tion the result is " simple appreheusion " (KaroATjifiis : this stands
in close relation to the'KaraAijTTucj) (j>a.vTaaia. of which it is the
necessary complement) ; if to a false or unapprehensive presentation,
the result is " opinion " (SiSfa), always deprecated as akin to error
and ignorance, nuworthy of a wise man. These processes are
conceivable only as "modes" of mind, changes in the soul's
substauce, and the same is tiue of the higher conceptions, the
products of generalization. But the Stoics were not slow to exalt
the part of reason, which seizes upon the generic qualities, the
essential nature of things. Where sense and reason conflict, it
is the latter that must decide. One isolated "apprehension,"
however firm its grasp, does not constitute knowledge or science
UTrurrinri) ; it must be of the firmest, such as reason cannot
shake, and, further, it must be worked into a system of such
apprehensions, which can only be by the mind's exercising the
"habit" (f|is) of attaining truth by continuous tension. Here
the work of reason is assimilated to the force which binds together
the parts of an inorgauic body and resists their separation. There
is nothing more in the order of the universe than extended mobile
bodies and forces in tension in these bodies. So, too, in the order
of knowledge there is nothing but sense and the force of reason
inaiutaiuing its tension and connecting sensations and ideas in
their proper sequence. Zeno compared sensation to the out-
stretched hand. Hat aud open ; beuding the fingers was assent ;
the clenched fist was "simple apprehension," the msotal grasp of
an object ; knowledge was the clenched fist tightly held in the
other hand. The illustration is valuable for the light it thitjWB
on the essential unity of diverse intellectual operations, as well m
for enforcing once more the Stoic doctrine that ditterent giades of
knowledgs are different grades of tension Good and evil, virtues
and vices, remarks Plutarch, are all capable of being " perceived";
sense, this common basis of aU mental activity, is a sort of touch
I by which the ethereal Pneuma which is the soul's substance
recognizes and measures tension.
\^■ith this exposition we have already invaded the province of
logic. To this the Stoics assigned a miscellany of studies —
rhetoric, dialectic, including grammar, in addition to formal logic-,
— to all of which their industry made contributions. Some of
their innovations in grammatical terminology have lasted until
now : we still speak of oblique cases, genitive, dative, accusative,
of verbs active (op9a), passive (Sirrm), neuter (ovStTepa), by the
names they gave. Their corrections and fancied improvements of
the Aristotelian logic are mostly useless and pedaniic. Judgment
(a^itc/id) they defined as a complete idea capable of expression la
language^ (AeKTiv auToreXe's), and to distinguish it from other
enunciations, as a wish or a command, they added "which i^
either true or false." From simple judgments they proceeded to
compound judgments, and declared the hypothetical syllogism to
be the normal type of reason, of which the categorical syllogism
is an abbreviation. Perhaps it is worth while to quote their
treatment of the categories. Aristotle made ten, all co-ordinate,
to serve as "heads of predication " under which to collect distinct
scraps of information respecting a subject, probably a man. Fori
this the Stoics substituted four stimnia yencra, all subordinate, so
that each in turn is more precisely determined by the next. They
are Something, or Being, determiued as (1) substance or subject'
matter, (2) essential quality, i.e., substance qualified, (3) mode or:
chance attribute, i.e. , qualified substauce in a certain condition {vas'.
€xoy), and, lastly, (4) relation or relative mode (in full viroKtiiiii/ov
TToihp irpSs tI Tas tx"")- The zeal with which the school ))rosecuted
logical inquiries had one practical result, — they could use to
perfection the unrivalled weapon of analysis. Its chief employ-
ment was to lay things bare and sever them from their surround-
ings, in order that they might be contemplated in their simplicity,
with rigid exactness, as objects of thought, apart from the Ulnsion
and exaggeration that attends them when presented to sense and
imagination. The very perfectiou and precision of this method
constantly tempted the lat«r Stoics to abuse it for the systematic
depreciation of the objects analysed.
The practical pMlosopliy of the Stoics stands in the Etl
closest connexion with their physics aud psychology.
Holding that man is a being who acts as well as thinks,
and that this is the all-important side of his life, they
find the link between the two in the mind's assent ; for,
when impelled towards certain objects by a prompting
or " impulse " (op/ti; = movement of the soul seeking to
possess itself of certain external things), whether of nature
or reason, a man must needs judge the objects to be
desirable ; the subsequfint movement, as it were, translates
this judgment into action. Against the sceptical position
it was necessary to maintain — (1) that motion, and there-
fore moral action, cannot follow upoi/ the mere present-
ment of an idea, unless the idea so suggested receive
assent, and (2) that assent alone does not suffice without
the motive faculty which. is found in all animals.^ Of
our various impulses, some in the mature man are (a)
rational ; some, as in the child, are (/?) non-rational,
because anterior to reason ; while (y) the impulse of the
man may be contrary to reason, under the influence of the
affections or passjons. (a) Now reason, as a spring of
action, has for its aim harmony or self-consistency, a life
proceeding upon a single plan (to o/wXayovixat^s (.rjrv, tovto
S' icrrl KoB' h/a Xoyoy Koi (rufjufxLvw'; ^7]v) : in this there is a
certain symmetry or beauty, the attraction which excites
rational impulse towards it. Clearly this definition of the
end of action comes from the Cj^cs, who pithily expressed
it by saying that in order to live man needs either reason
or a halter (Setv Xoyovrj fipoxov). But during Zeno's early
studies another conception had been current, that of agree-
ment with nature. Apparently it had been started by the
Old Academy, where probably the technical phrase "first
^ Trda-as 5e Ta5 ip^iits (rvyKaradeireis flvat, Ta$ 5e vpoKTiiriis leal
rh KiVTiTinhv i«eie'x<"'i — Stobieus, £cl. Eth.. ii. 164.
STOICS
567
objects according to nature," to vpuyra Kara (pva-iv. Lad its
origin. Nqw tlio slightest acquaintance with Stoic physics
shows that reason and nature are at one ; we may there-
fore well believe that Zeno himself had explained his
harmonious or self-consistent life to mean a life in harmony
with nature (Diog. Laer., vii. 87, quoting Zeno, "On the
Nature of Man "). At all events that was the orthodox
formula adopted and interpreted by Cleanthes and Chry-
sippus, — the former, as we might have expected from his
Heraclitean tendencies, representing it to mean " harmony
with the universal nature," the latter emphasizing that
not only is it the nature of the universe, but the particular
nature of man, that is meant. Cleanthes's interpretation is
at once novel and fruitful : reason being the true self or
nature of man, and being essentially the same in him with
the reason in the All, its procedure in him should corre-
spond to and reproduce its procedure in the AIL It is
reasonable, therefore, for the individual to submit to and
co-operate with the indwelling reason, or law of the
universe, and in obedience to this universal law (koivos
vo/io?) imitate the uniform methodic march of the divine
creative fire. Here we note the conception of morality as
obedience to an objective law, though, as reason attains
to consciousness of itself only in man, it is a lawof which
he himself, qua rational, is lawgiver. But Chrysippus, in
his reading of the formula, had no intention of relaxing
the close dependence of ethics upon physics. A new light
is thrown upon the study of external nature by the
essential unity of reason in the macrocosm and in the
microcosm : what we learn of its operations there is pro-
fitable for instruction here, and life should be directed in
accordance with the experience we have acquired of the
course of nature {i,rjv kot* fjiiruplav tSiv <j>va-ei, <jvi).jiaiv6v-
Tojr, Chrj-sippus ap. Stob., Eel., ii. 134). 'Whethar man
■will comply with the commands of the universal law or
not, whether therefore the ethical end is realized in him,
must depend upon himself. The wbole tendency of the
physical theory is towards a system of rigid determinism,
nay, almost of fatalism; but, so soon as we reach the
ethical region, the problem of indctprminism is forced upon
us in all its perplexity.
InBtlECt. (/?) Having determined the end of rational action, we
must now give a glance at the earlier, instinctive activity
of beings properly without reason {i.e., of children and the
brute creation) ; thi? too has its importance, since before
reason is developed the agent follows the " uncorrupted
impulses " of nature. Here we come upon a controversy
which still has an interest for the psychologist, for
Epicurus had declared pleasure to be the end of all
instinctive activity, while the Btoics combated his position
and sought to prove that not pleasure but self-preservation
U really sought. According to them, the child or the
animal would speedily be crushed out of existence if it
did not move at all or if its movements were not governed
by some plan ; a vague consciousness of itself and a love
for its own constitution must be postulated to account for
the impulse which, together with sensation, distinguishes
animal life from the life of the plant.' That all motion is
excited by pleasure in prospect, or the hope of cessation
from pain, is (they argue) contrary to fact. Efforts to
-move are made perseveringly even where they occasion
pain. The whole life of unreasoning infancy and of the
brutes can bo satisfactorily explained on the assumption
wpioTOv olKf^ov tlvai iravrl C^c/t T^f avToi; avarcuriv Kai ri]!/
rairris avniiri(riv. The avcTaiTii of an organic being is an outcome
of internal forces, a mutual lelation of varj'ing elements, — in man, a
relation of tlie rulini; part of the soul, i.e., the rational noul, to tlio
rest By otxttuais is meant that nature inspires this belf-lovc, " for
it is imiirobiihle that nature should etlrango thu living thing from
ilself, or that she should leave the creature the had maUa without
cither estrangement from, or affection for, its own constitution,"
of sense '■and impulse acting mechanically, somewhat
after the fashion indicated rather than worked out in detail
in the Peripatetic application of the practical syllogism to
the motion of animals. In their theory of pleasure itself
the Stoics appro.ximate very decidedly to Aristotle. It
is, as he said, a concomitant (cViytVn/iia), but no', of ail
activities; on the contrary, the highest are without it,
and it is invariably of no significance where h is founcL
Moreover, while ^Vristotle had asserted that it adds a
certain zest or finish to natural activity, the Stoics declared
that it never appears at all except as a mark of the
decline or relaxation of vital energy, the bloom which is
indeed a mark of ripeness but also the certain precursor
of decay.
(y) To return to impulse, — there remains the case of
action against reason under the influence of the passions.
Although nature may guide man towards the right objects,
she does not control the impetus or velocity of the soura
movement. If this be in excess, the rational soul is
hurried into an inflamed disorderly condition, the source
of which is an erroneous judgment or false opinion, though
its effects are seen in the evident elation or depression,
and the stings of excitement, which are the symptoms of
mental disorder. Anxious to uphold individual respon-
sibility, the Stoics pronounced the false opinion to be
voluntary ; that once granted, the subsequent reaction of
the mind (i.e., the emotional effects on which Zeno
especially dwelt), the compulsion and extravagance which
are characteristic of the passions, may bo said to follow
inevitably, so that under the sway of blind impulses the
man is still acting voluntarily. This sets in a striking
light the close dependence of ethics upon psychology.
The Peripatetics had made the intellectual soul with
virtues of its own something altogether distinct from the
lower nature, the seat of the emotions and of the moral
virtues which consist in their regulation. The Stoic
doctrine of the essential unity of soul is a vehement
protest against all this : the soul's unity is shown in a
unity of activity, whether it be in a healthy or a disordered
state. As all virtues are essentially one, though they
differ according to the different relations to which the
knowledge of good and evil is applied, so, too, emotion is
not something antagonistic to reason, but perverted reason.
There is no such struggle of vicious inclinations against
virtue, a contest waged by two separate powers, as
A.ristotle had imagined in his account of moral weakness ;
the proper simile is a mutiny or revolt in one and the same
city, JIansoul now in allegiance to the rightful authority
and now in open rebellion. The lower animals and
children are incapable of emotion ; it is only found
where reason is fully developed. The analysis and classi-
fication of theso affections start with the false opinion or
judgment or imagination, which may relate to the present
or the future, to fancied good or fancied ill. Hence there
are four types of the affections : all are grouped around
pleasure, an impulse towards present fancied good ; desire,
an impulse towards future fancied good ; grief, an impulse
to bhun fancied evil in the present ; fear, an impulse to
shun fancied evil in the future. On the analogy of bodily
disease, these disorders of the mind are further divided
into (1) chronic ailments {vocnjuara), such as avarice,
where the belief that money is a good is persistent and
deep-seated, leading to a habit of feeling and acting, or
ambition, a similar erroneous judgment in respect of
public honour.s, and (2) infirmities (appiu(rnjpara), sud-
den attacks of error to which the patient momentarily
succumbs. This remarkable development of Stoic prin-
ciples leads to the demand for the entire suppression of
the affections (uiraOtLa), in contradistinction to thst
regulation and governance of them for which Plato and
568
STOICS
the Old Academy contended (ixiTpiuirdOeia). Further, it
explains the incessant war which the later Stoics waged
with imagination.
The end of actiqn has then been explained to be a con-
sistent life, a rational life, and, lastly, a life according to
nature. Now the Cynics had already traced back con-
sistency to a certain Herculean strength or force of will,
which again is an effect of the bracing or tension of the
soul's substance, so that this ever-recurring attribute is as
available to explain wiU as intelligence. Herein we discover,
as it were, an internal source of the external harmony and
regularity of a consistent life. Our will should be directed
to this source rather than to its manifestations, — to
" right " (i.e., inflexible and straight) " reason," which has
attained a character of intense rigidity, an intensive
energy raised to an impassable degree. For this infallible
firmness of the reason the technical term is Sta^ecris, a
" disposition " which, like straightness or crookedness in a
line, admits of no degrees of less or more ; thence comes
harmony, regularity, and consistency in all our acts, which
alone is truly beautiful (koAoV = fair or noble ; for which
the Romans characteristically said honestum = honourable).
Not even Christianity laid more stress upon inwardness,
or taught more explicitly that motive counts for every-
thing and external performance for very little. Once let
the reason become "right" and it imparts this same
character to all that it affects. First the soul is made
strong, healthy, beautiful ; when, therefore, it thus fulfils
all the conditions of its being, it is absolutely perfect.
Now the perfection of anything is called its virtue ; the
virtue of man, then, is the perfection of his soul, i.e., of the
ruling part or rational soul. But " out of the heart are
the issues of life ": make the soul perfect and you make
the life perfect. From such a " disposition " must proceed
a life which flows on smoothly and uniformly, like a gentle
river (evpoia /Si'ou). No longer is there anything to hope
or fear ; this harmonious accord between impulses and acts
is itself man's wellbeing or welfare (eiSai/iona). Cleanthes
scouts the notion of adding to such perfection that
occasional result of a decaying activity entitled pleasure ;
Chrysippus remonstrates indignantly with Plato for
appealing to the " moral bugbears " of future rewards or
punishments. There is no " wages of virtue," not even
the continuance of her activity ; for lapse of time can add
nothing to perfect wellbeing ; it is complete, whole, and
indivisible now.
Virtue, then, as right reason, is at once knowledge and strength
of will ; for a right comprehension of Stoic psychology shows that
these two are identical. The unity of {lU virtue is sufficiently
apparent, but the Stoics also acknowledged a plurality of specific
virtues grouped round the four cardinal virtues of Plato. Wisdom
(0p((>'7)O'is) was, according to Zeno and Cleanthes, the common
element ; according to Aristo, it should rather he termed know-
ledge (iinaTi)ixit); and this view was adopted in the ^chool to avoid
the awkwardness of using the same term {ippdvnaii) both for a
special, virtue and for the generic attribute of them all. Wisdom
or knowledge in distributing to others is justice, in endeavour it is
temperance, in endurance it is courage or fortitude ; but in every
virtuous act all four of the virtues are implicit. Virtue is thus the
unconditional good ; it is at once the absolute end and the means
to the end.
Goodness must be interpreted, as Socrates used to interpret it,
that which furnishes some advantage or true utility ; its opposite,
evil, as that which produces harm or disadvantage. Obviously
only virtue, and that which comes from virtue, confers any real
advantage; only vice can really do harm. Goodness is a wider
genus than virtue ; all virtue is good, but not aU goods are virtues.
There are goods of soul, such as habits and happy aptitudes which
may be acquired in varying degrees (i.e., they are i'^tis not
SioflfVtis) ; others are only single actions {Ivipytiai). A friend
again may be a means to good (iroijjTiicii' ts'Aous). AU these goods
are utilities (o)0e\^/ioTa), and therefore deserve to be sought
(filftri). Similarly evils may be classified as — (1) vices, settled
dispositions contrary to right reason, proceeding from that ignorance
fthich infaUibly attends on a slackening of the soul's fibre ; (2)
evil habits or inclinations (tuitoTo^oploi) ; (3) isolated vicious
actions. AU these evils alike are to be shunned ((pevKri) ; all
alike are harmful ($\ifinaTa) ; the moral responsibUity rests with
the individual, in so far as he is ignorant or has his soul relaxed.
Good and evil, however, is not an exhaustive classifica-^
tion. There is a large class of things which are neither
the one nor the other ; which do not conduce to ouir.
attainment of the end, nor hinder us therefrom ; which are
neither to be pursued nor shunned, but are simply in-
different (aSidtfiopa). To all these objects the ^attitude of
the Cynics was complete indifference, wherein they were
followed by Aristo ; that of the sceptics professedly utter
insensibility. Now the most original feature of the Stpic
ethics is the cla.'^sification of things indifferent and their
arrangement in a certain scale in accordance with the
value, positive or negative (a^ia, dira$ia), to be assigned
to them either intrinsically or in certain circumstance*
(Kara irepicrTaa-iv). Some objects are so unimportant that
in regard to them Aristo's attitude of complete indifl'er-
ence is justified. Placing them at the zero point, we may
advance in both directions, assigning to aU the objects of
instinctive natural impulses a positive value, in virtu' of
which they are to be picked out (Xjjirra) in preference to
other indifferent things not of this description. Thus
bodily health, though not a good, is entitled to a certain
value ; disease, though not an evil, has a certain negative
value. The former class is according to nature, the latter
contrary to nature ; the iormer are instinctively sought by
children as tending to maintain their "constitution" or
nature ; the latter their " uncorrupted impulses " (dSio-
<rrpo<f)OL d<^opi).a.C) lead them to shun as tending to mar,
cripple, or destroy life. • Similarly, actions may be classi-
fied : aU virtuous actions are right actions (KaropOuip-aTa) ;
all vicious actions are wrong actions or " sins " (d/xapri}-
fiara). The attainment of any one of che objects in the
class of things indifferent, looked at in itself, is neither
right nor wrong. But, if the object picked out be that
object out of all at the moment present to us which has
the highest value, then the action of selecting it admits '
of being defended en probable grounds, and as such is Fife
•entitled to be called (quite apart from the agent's disposi- .or f
tion, whether virtuous or vicious), materialiter, an act "^
" meet and fit " to do (xa^^Kov). Such an act need not be
preceded by any reasoning at all ; in the case of the brutes
and of children it is always instinctive, yet in all cases
it is capable of being justified on grounds of probability
(o TTpax^iv fvXoyov !;(« aTroXoylav). Similarly with the
selection of an object which has less value in preference to
one of higher value : such a blunder is not, taken in itself,
a wrong action, but it violates fitness {■Kaph, ro KaOrJKov).
Amongst fitting actions, some are always fitting, others
only at times, under given circumstances ; some indifferent
objects we select for their own sakes, others merely as
means. The range of such human functions' is wide
enough to include the acquisition .of information, the
exercise of temperance and courage, even altruistic con-
duct. And yet some actions in man are on a level with
the nutritive functions of the plant (Diog. Laer., vii. 86).
Again, our human functions compose our whole conscious
life ; even life, then, considered in itself, has in it oo
moral good ; we may, if need be, under certain circum-
stances, voluntarily withdraw from it.
The Stoics maintain that the variety of things indifferent is
essential to virtue, because it is the field upon .which reason is
exercised. Virtue is a body, therefore it is corportal ; therefore
its active principle needs a passive material to act upon. Things
indifferent are capable of being put to a good or a bad ee, though
some lend themselves to uje more easily than other?. 'Nor does
virtue merely avaU itself, now and then, of things indifferent, — it,
can do nothiag else than avail itself of them. Though they are!
not goods, and though their attainment does not confer wellbeir:gi|
yet aU virtue is the selection or_choice of them. For Low,ia»
STOICS
569
mtaous life manifested ? !n a series o£ externni ucts, each one of
Which is the choice of some natural end, some object according to
nature, as possessing »t the moment the highest value. The same
external act may be done by an irrational agent, and in his case
the act is not virtuous. For there is as great a gulf fixed between
fitting and virtuous actions as between things iudilferent haviiig
positive value and the good. No increase of value can raise a thing
indiHer«nt to the class of good ; no degree of fitness in the external
act done can render it virtuous. As right actions consist in
following reason in the selection of things according to nature, it
follows that such right actions (as distinct from the titting actions
of which all living things are capable) ai-e tlie exclusive privilege
<)f rational beings. So, too, with wrong actions : only rational
beings can perform them ; although children or the brutes may
nm counter to fitness, and pursue objects contrary to nature, they
cannot be said to sin or do wrong. All actions, then, of rational
beings must be either virtuous or vicious ; there is do mean
bet>veen the two. But what of fitting actions ? Are not they also
done by rational agents ? Is not the distinction between right
conduct and mere external fitness continually drawn when the
Stoics are referring to tlie activity of rational human beings?
Unquestionably so ; but in examining a given act it is necessary
to view it on the formal as well as on the material side, — as pro-
ceeding from a virtuous or vicious disposition, and again as tend-
ing, when taken in itself and apart from this disposition, to pro-
mote or destroy the agent's nature or 'constitution, i.e., as some-
thing "meet and fit" to do, or as contrary to fitness (or, in rare
cases, as having no tendency in either direction). Lastly, the
analysis of conduct is incomplete unless the external object which
the agent aims at attaioiug by the act is also taken into account :
it may be natural, and may therefore excite desire ; or it may be
contrary to nature, and excite aversion ; or it may be absolutely
indifferent. Now the Stoic classifications of (o) external objects
and (J) actions (as they have come down to us from not very dis-
criminating sources) are hampered by the inclusion of right actions
and wrong actions, which are made species of the wider genera.
Under objects according to nature come (o) fitting actions, (;8) right
actions, (7) virtues ; i.e., conduct which is perfect contains all that
in the imperfect imitates perfection : a right action has- ipso facto
all the fitness of a fitting action, and all the accord with nature of a
thing according to nature. So with the opposite class: the vicious
man, by the very fact of not having the tension of soul which is
virtue, commits a sin in his every action ; all that he does, there-
fore, is on this ground contrary to fitness and contrary to nature.
Any defect in external conduct proves it to be a sin ; the mere ab-
seiKC of defect does not establish its claim to be right conduct. It
is as easy to prove a given person is unwise (and therefore a sinner)
as it is hard to prove him a sage. Virtue is one, vice is manifold.
No act iu itself is either noble or base; even the grossest violation
of fitness, if it could be done with the right intention, would count
as virtue, and the most fitting deeds without that intention are
naught (see Orig., C. Cels., iv. 45; Sext. Emp., Adv. Math., xi.
190; Pyrrh. Hyp., iii. 245, is therefore wrong). It does not
appear, then, that there is any divergence in principle between the
doctrine of the end of action and the doctrine of fitness or relative
duty ; nor should the latter be regarded (as is done by Cicero and
some modern expositors) as an afterthought, intended to soften
the too rigorous demands of the Stoic ideal. For from the first it
was an integral part of the system : Zeno wrote a treatise irtpl toD
KaBiiKovTO! ; indeed he adopted it as a technical term. That this
<loctrine was a stumbling-block to the small band of his early
disciples seems not unlikely; for Aristo and Herillus, who left
taim, as is believed, on independent grounds, modified it in their
own etliical theories afterwards put forth. According to Hirzcl
{UiUersuch., ii. p. 64), however, the views of these two heterodox
Stoics more closely approximated than at first sight appears ;
Herillus, as well n» Aristo, maintained that all actions intermed-
iate to vice and virtue are aI)Solutely indill'crent (Diog. Laer., vii.
155); and Aristo, like Herillus, defined virtue as knowledge, and
held that the wise man will never form opinions, i.e., will not act
upon anything short of knowledge.
In their view of man's social relations the Stoics are
greatly in advance of preceding schools. We saw that
virtue is a law which governs the universe : that which
Reason and God ordain must be accepted as binding upon
the particle of reason which is in each one of us. Human
law comes into existence when men recognize this obli-
gation ; justice is therefore natural, and not something
merely conventional. The opposite tendencies, to allow
to the individual responsibility and freedom, and to
demand of him obedience to law, are both features of the
system ; but in virtue even of the freedom \vhich belongs
to him 17M0 rational, he must recognize the society of
21 -21 *
raliocial beings of which he is a member, and subordinate
his own ends to the ends and needs of this society. Those
who own one law are citizens of one state, the city o|
Zeus, in which men and gods have their dwelling. Ii
that city all is ordained by reason working intelligentlyj
and the members exist'"for the sake of one another ; there
ii aa intimate ecnriesion (a-vixTrdOeia) between them which
makes all the wise and virtuous friends, even if personally
unknown, and leads them to contribute to one another't
good. Their intercourse should find expression in justice,
in friendship, in family and iiolitical life. But practically
the Stoic philosopher always had some good excuse for
withdrawing from the narrow political life of the city ii(
which he found himself. The circumstances of the time,
such as the 'decay of Greek city-life, the foundation of
large territorial states under absolute Greek rulers, whict
followed upon Alexander's conquests, and afterwards the
rise of the world-empire of Kome, aided to develop the
leading idea of Zeno's Eejncblic. There he had anticipated
a state without family life, without law courts or coins,
without schools or temples, in which all differences of
nationality would be merged in the common brotherhood
of man. This cosmopolitan citizenship remained all
through a distinctive Stoic dogma ; when first announced
it must have had a powerful influence upon the minds
of men, diverting them from the distractions of almost
parochial politics to a boundless vista. There was, then,
no longer any difference between Greek and barbarian,
between male and female, bond and free. All are
members of one body as partaking in reason, all are
equally men. Not that this led to any movement for the
abolition of slavery. For the Stoics attached but slight
importance to external circumstances, since only the wise
man is really free, and all the unwise are slaves. Yet,
while they accepted slavery as a permanent institution,
philosophers as wide apart as Chrysippus and Seneca
sought to mitigate its evils in practice, and urged upon
masters humanity in the treatment of their slaves.
The religious problem had peculiar interest for the
school which discerned God everywhere as the ruler and
upholder, and at the same time the law, of the world that
He had evolved from Himself. The physical groundwork
lends a religious sanction to all moral duties, and
Cleanthes's noble hymn is evidence how far a system of
natural religioii could go in providing satisfaction for the
cravings of the religious temper : —
"Most glorious of immortals, 0 Zeus of many names,. almighty
and everlasting, sovereign of nature, directing all in acconf
ance with law, thee it is T.tting that all mortals should address.
Thee all th* ■> universe, as it rolls circling round the earth, obeys
wheresoever thou dost ^uide, and gladly owns thy sway. Such a
minister thou boldest in thy invincible hands, — the two-edged,
fiery, ever-living thunderbolt, under whose stroke all nature
shudder.?. No work upon earth is wrought apart from thee, lord,
nor through the divine ethereal sphere, nor upon the sea; save
only whatsoever deeds wicked men do in their own foolishness.
Nay, thou knowest how to make even the rough smooth, and to
bring order out of disorder ; and things not friendly are friendly in
thy sight. For so hast thou fitted all things together, the good
with the evil, that there might be one eternal law over all. . .
Deliver men from fell ignorance. Banish it, father, from their soul,
and grant them to obtain wisdom, whereon relying thou rulest all
things with justice."
To the orthodox theology of Greece and Rome the. sys-
tem stood in a twofold relation, as criticism and rational-
ism. That the popular religion contained gross errors
hardly needed to be pointed out. The forms of worship
were known to be trivial or mischievous, the myths un-
worthy or immoral. But Zeno declared images, shrinee,
temples, sacrifices, prayers, and worship to be of no avail.
A really acceptable prayer, he taught, can only have re-
ference to a virtuous and devout mind : God is best wor-
shipped in the shrine of the heart by the desire to know
570
STOICS
Jtind obey Him. xVt the same time the Stoics felt at
liberty to defend and uphold tlie truth in polytheism.
Not only is the primitive substance God, the one su-
preme being, but divinity must be ascribed to His mani-
festations,— to the heavenly bodies, which are conceived,
like Plato's created gods, as the highest of rational beings,
to the forces of nature, even to deified men ; and thus
the world was peopled with divine agencies, iloreover,
the myths were rationalized and allegorized, which was
not in either case an original procedure. The search for
a deeper hidden meaning beside the literal one had been
begun by Democritus, Empedocles, the Sophists, and the
Cynics. It remained for Zeno to carry this to a much
greater extent, and to seek out or invent " natural prin-
ciples " {\6yoL <f>vcnKoi) and moral ideas in all the legends
md in the poetry of Homer and Hesiod. In this sense
he was the pattern if not the "father" of all such as
allegorize and reconcile. Etymology was pressed into the
service, and the wildest conjectures as to the meaning of
names did duty as a basis for mythological explanations.
The two favourite Stoic heroes were Hercules and Ulj-sses,
and nearly every scene in thfiir adventures was made to
disclose some moral significance. Lastly, the practice of
divination and the consultation of oracles afforded a
means of communication between God and man, — a con-
cession to popular beliefs which may be explained when
w^ reflect that to the faithful divination was something as
essential as confession and spiritual direction to a devout
Catholic now, or the study and interpretation of Scripture
texts to a Protestant. Chrysippus did his best to recon-
cile the superstition with his own rational doctrine of strict
causation. Omens and portents, he explained, are the
natural symptoms of certain occurrences. There must be
eOuutless indications of the course of Providence, for the
most part unobserved, the meaning of only a few having
become known to men. His opponents argued, " if all
events are foreordained, divination is superfluous"; he
replied that both divination and our behaviour under the
warnings which it afl'ords are included in the chain of
causation. Even here, however, the bent of the system
is apparent; They were at pains to insist upon purity of
heart and life as an indispensable condition for success in
prophesyins! and to enlist piety in the service of morality.
Middle When Chrysippus died (01. U3 = 208-204 B.C.) the
gtoa. structure of Stoic doctrine was complete. With the
Middle Stoa we enter upon a period at first of compara-
tive inaction, afterwards of internal reform. Chrysippus's
immediate successors were Zeno of Tarsus, Diogenes of
Seleucia (often called the Babylonian), and Antipater
of Tarsus, men of no originality, thotigh not without
ability > the two last-named, however, had all their ener-
gies taxed to sustain the conflict with Carneades (q-v.).
This was the most formidable assault the school ever
encountered ; that it survived was due more to the fore-
sight and elaborate precautions of Chrysippus than to any
efforts of that " pen-doughty " pamphleteer, Antipater
(xaXa/xoySoas), who shrank from opposing himself in per-
son to the eloquence of Carneades. The subsequent his-
tory testified to the importance of this controversy. The
special objects of attack were the Stoic theory of know-
ledge, their theology, and their ethics. The physical basis
of the system remained unchanged but neglected ; all
creative force or even original research in the departments
of physics and metaphysics vanished. Yet problems of
interest bearing upon psychology and natural theology con-
tinued to be discussed. Thus the cycles of the world's
existence, and the universal conflagration which terminates?-
each of them, excited some doubt. Diogenes of Seleucia
is said to have wavered in his belief at last ; Boethus, one
of hia pupils, flatly denied it. He reg^ded the Deity as
the guide and upholder of the v;orld, watching over it from
the outside, not as the immanent soul within it, for
according to him the world was as soulless as a plant.
We have here a compromise between Zeno's and Aristotle'*
doctrines. But in the end the 'Universal conflagration waa
handed down without question as an article of belief. -It
is clear that the activity of these teachers was chiefly
directed to ethics : they elaborated fresh definitions of the
chief good, designed either to make yet clearer the sense
of the formulas of Chrj-sippus or else to meet the more
urgent objections of the Kew Academy. Carneades had
emphasized one striking apparent inconsistency : it had
been laid down that to choose what is natural is man's
highest good, and yet the things chosen, the " first objects
according to nature," had no place amongst goods.
Antipater may have met this by distinguishing " the
attainment " of primary natural ends from the activity-
directed to their attainment (Plut., De Covim. Not., 27, 14,
p. 1072 F) ; but, earlier still, Diogenes had put forward his
gloss, viz., " The end is to calculate rightly in the selection
and rejection of things according to nature." Archedermis,
ar contemporary of Diogenes, put this in plainer terms
still : " The end is to live in the performance of all fitting
actions " (iravTa Ta KaSi'jKOVTa tTTiTcXoiiTas C^'')- Now it i»
highly improbable that the earlier Stoics would hare
sanctioned such interpretations of their dogmas. The
mere performance of relative or imperfect duties, they
would have said, is something neither good nor evil ; the
essential constituent of human good is ignored. And
similar criticism is actually passed by Posidonius : " This
is not the end, but only its necessary concomitant ; such a
mode of expression may be useful for the refutation of
objections put forward by the Sophists " (Carneades and
the New Academy 1), " but it contains nothing of morality
or wellbeing " (Galen, De Plac. Hipp, el Flat., p. 470 K).
There is every ground, then, for concluding that we have
here one concession extorted by the assaults of Carneades.
For a similar compromise there is express testimony :
" good repute " {(vio$ia) had been regarded as a thing
wholly indifferent in the school down to and including
Diogenes. Antipater was forced to assign to -it "positive
value," and to give it a place amongst " things preferred "
(Cic, De Fin., iti. 67). These modifications were retained
by Antipater's successors. Hence come the increased im-
portance and fuller treatment which from this time for-
ward fall to the lot of the " external duties " (KaOijKOvra.).
The rigour and consistency of the older system became sen-
sibly modified.
To this result another important factor contributed. Th<
In all that the older Stoics taught there breathes that sag'
enthusiasm for righteousness in which has been traced the
earnestness of the Semitic spirit ; but nothing presents
more forcibly the pitch of their moral idealism than the
doctrine of the Wise Man. All mankind fall into two
classes,— the wise or virtuous, the unwise or wicked, —
the distinction being absolute. He who possesses virtne
possesses it whole and entire ; he who lacks it lacks it
altogether. To be but a hand's-breadth below the surface
of the sea ensm-es drowning as infallibly as to be five
hundred fathoms deep. Now the wise man is drawn as
perfect. All he does is right, all his opinions are true ; he
alone is free, rich, beautiful, skilled to govern, capable of
giving or receiving a benefit. And his happiness, since
length of time cannot increase it, falls in nothing short of
that of Zeus. In contrast with all this, we have a picture
of universal depravity. Now, who could claim to have
attained to the sage's wisdom t Doubtless, at the first
founding of the school Zeno himself and Zeno's pupils
were inspired with this hoj^ ; they emulated the Cynics
Antisthenes and Diogenes, who never nhrank out of
STOICS
571
modesty from the name and its responsibilities. But the
development of the system led them gradually and reluct-
antly to renounce this hope, as they came to realize the
arduous conditions involved. Zeno indeed could liardly
have been denied the title conferred upon Epicurus.
Cleanthes, the '■ second Hercules," held it possible f'<r man
to attain to virtue. From anecdotes recorded of the tricks
played upon Ari.sto and Sphaerus (Diog. Laer., vii. 162,
117) it may be inferred that the former deemed himself
infallible in his opinions, i.e., set up for a sage ; Persaeus
himself, who had exposed the pretensions of Aristo, is
twitted with having failed to conform with the perfect
generalship which was one trait of the wise man, when he
allowed the citadel of Corinth to be taken by Aratus
(Athen., iv. 102 D). The trait of infallibility especially
proved hard to establish when successive heads of the
school seriously diti'ered in their doctrine. The prospect
became daily more distant, and at length faded away.
Chrysippus declined to call himself or any of his contem-
poraries a sage. One or two such manifestations there
may have been — Socrates and Diogenes 1 — but the wise
man was rarer, he thought, than the phoenix. If his suc-
cessors allowed one or two more exceptions, to Diogenes
of Seleucia at any rate the sage was an unrealized ideal,
as we learn from Plutarch (De Comm. Not., 33, 1076 B),
who does not fail to seize upon this extreme view. Posi-
donius left even Socrates, Diogenes, and Antisthenes in
the state of progress towards virtue. Although there was
in the end a reaction from this extreme, yet it is impos-
isible to mistake the bearing of all this upon a practical
system oi morals. So long as dialectic subtleties and
exciting polemics afforded food for the intellect, the gulf
between theory and practice might be ignored. But once
let this system be presented to men in earnest about right
living, and eager to profit by what they are taught, and
an ethical reform is inevitable. Conduct for us will be
separated from conduct for the sage. We shall be told
not always to imitate him. There will be a new law, dwell-
ing specially upon the " external duties " required of all
men, wise or unwise ; and even the sufficiency of virtue for
our happiness may be questioned. The introducer and
expositor of such a twofold morality was a remarkable
man. Born at Rhodes c. 185 B.C., a citizen of the most
flourishing of Greek states and almost the only one which
yet retained vigour and freedom, Panaetius lived for years
in the house of Scipto Africanus the younger at Rome,
accompanied him on embassies and campaigns, and was
perhaps the first Greek who in a private capacity had any
insight into the working of the Roman state or the
character of its citizens. Later in life, as head of the
Stoic school at Athens, he achieved a re[]utation second
(mly to that of Chrysippus. He is the earliest Stoic
author from whom we have, even indirectly, any consider-
able piece of work, as books i. and ii. of the De Officiis
are a rechauffe, in Cicero's fashion, of Panaetius " Upon
External Duty " (irfpl toC KaftjKoi'Tos).
The introduction of Stoicism at Rome was the most
momentous of the many changes that it saw. After the
first sharp collision with the jealousy of tho national
authorities it found a ready acceptance, and made rapid
progress amongst the noblest families. It has been well
said that the old heroes of the republic were unconscious
Stoics, fitted by their narrowness, their stern simplicity,
and devotion to duty for tho almost Semitic earnestness
of the new doctrine. In Greece its insensibility to art
and tho cultivation of life was a fatal defect ; not so with
tho shrewd men of the world, desirous of qualifying as
advocates or jurists. It supplied them with an incentive
to scientific research in archajology and grammar ; it
penetrated jurisprudence until the belief in the ultimate
identity of the jm gentium with the law of nature
modified the praetor's edicts for centuries. Even to the
prosaic religion of old Rome, with its narrow original
conception and multitude of burdensome rites, it became
iu some sort a support. Scajvola, following Pansetius,
explained that the prudence of statesmen had established
this public institution in the service of order midway
between the errors of popular superstition and the barren
truths of enlightened philosophy. Soon the influence of
the pupils reacted ujion tho doctrines taught. Of .specula-
tive interest the ordinary Roman had as little as may be j
for abstract discussion and controversy he cared nothing.
Indifferent to the scientific basis or logical development of
doctrines, he selected from various writers and from dif-
ferent schools what he found most serviceable. All had
to be simplified and disengaged from technical subtleties.
To' attract his Roman pupils Panaetius would naturally
choose simple topics susceptible of rhetorical treatment or
of appUcation to individual details. He was the represen-
tative, not merely of Stoicism, but of Greece and Greek
literature, and would feel pride in introducing its greatest
masterpieces: amongst all that he studied, he valued most
the writings of Plato. He admired the classic style, the
exquisite purity of language, the flights of imagination,
but he admired above all the philosophy. He marks a
reaction of the genuine Hellenic spirit against the narrow
austerity of the first Stoics. Zeno and Chrysippus had in-
troduced a repellent technical terminology ; their writings
lacked every grace of style. With Pansetius the Stoa
became eloquent : he did his best to improve upon the
uncouth words in vogue, even at some slight cost of accu-
racy, e.ff., to discard 7rpo7;yjacioi' for ivxprjo-rov, or else de-
signate it " so-called good," or even simoly " good," if the
context allowed.
The part Panretiua took in philological and historical studies is
chara^.teristic of the man. We know much of the results of these
studies ; of his philosophy technically we know very little. He
wrote only upon ethics, where historical knowledge would be of
use. Crates of Mallus, one of his teachers, aimed at fulfilling the
high functions of a "critic" according to his own definition, — that
the critic must acquaint himself with all rational knowledge.
Panffitius was competent to pass judgment upon the critical
" divination " of an Aristarchus (who was perhaps himself also a
Stoic), and took au interest in the restoration of Old Attic forms to
the text of Plato. Just then there had been a movement towards
a wider and more liberal education, by which even contemporary
Epicureans were afTocted. Diogenes the Babylonian had written
a treatise on language and one entitled The Laws. Along with
grammar, which had heen a proiniuent hranch of study under
Chrysippus, philosophy, history, geography, chronology, and kin-
dred subjects came to bo recognized as fields of activity no less than
philology proper. It has been recently established that Polyhlus
the historian was a Stoic, and it is clear that he was greatly influ-
enced by th^ form of the system which he learned to know, in tho
society of Scipio and his friends, from Pantetius.' Nor is it im-
probable that works of tho latter served Cicero as the originals of his
De H'puliUca and De Lrgihii.i.'' Thus the gulf between Stoicism
and the later Cynics, who were persistently hostile to culture, could
not fail to be widened.
A wave of eclecticism passed overall tho Greek schools In llic 1st
century e.g. Platonisni and scepticism had left undoubted traces
upon the doctrine of such a reformer as Pana-tius. He had doulils
about a general conflagration ; possibly (he thought) Aristotle w.is
right iu allirming the eternity of the present order of the world.
Ho doubted the entire system of divination. On these points hia
disciples Posidonius and Hecato seem to have reverted to orthodoxy.
But in ethics his innovations were more suggestive and fertile, llo
separated wisdom as a theoretic virtue from the other three which
he called practical. Hecato slightly modified this : showing lliat
precepts (fleaip^/jara) are needed for justice and temperance also,
lie made them scientific virtues, reserving for his second clas.s tho
unscientific virtue (iSeoJpjjTos Apcrfi) of courage, together with
' Hirzcl, Unlermch., ii. p. 811 sq. Polybius's rejection of divma-
lion is decisive. See, e.g., his explanation open natural causei cjf
Siipio tho elder's capture of New Cnrthngo, " by the aiil of Neptune,
X. 11 (r/. X. 2). P. Voigt holds tlint in vi. 5, 1, tictic IrJpnit Trw
<pi\oci</ia>i' in an allusion to P.inntius. -«- •
" This, at least, is maintained by Schmckolr
672
STOICS
health, sti'eugth, and such like "excellencies." Further, Pauretlus
Ihad maintained that pleasure is not altogether a thing indifferent:
ihere is -a natural as well as an unnatural pleasure. But, if so, it
[would follow that, since pleasure is an emotion) apathy or eradica-
tiou of ail emotions cannot be unconditionally required. The gloss
he put upon the definition of the end was " a life in accordance
Iwith the promptings given us by nature " ; the terms arc all used
fcy older Stoics, but the individual nature {v/xty) seems to be
emphasised. From Posidonius, the last representative of a com-
"urehensive study of nature and a subtle erudition, it is not surpris-
ng that wo get the following definition: the end is to live in con-
;emplation of the Teality and otder of the universe, promoting it
to the best of our power, and never led astray by the irrational part
of the souL The heterodox phrase with which this definition ends
points to innovations in psychology which were undoubtedly real
and important, suggested by the difficulty of maintaining the
essential unity of the soul. PauEetius had referied two faculties
Jthose of speech and of reproduction) to animal impulse and to
the vegetative "nature" (0i/iri$) respectively. Yet the older
Stoics held that this 0i5crir was changed to a true soul (ifux^) at
birth. Posidonius, unable to explain the emotions as "judgments "
or the effects of judgments, postulated, like Plato, an irrational
principle (including a concupiscent and a spirited element) to
Hucount for them, although he subordinated all these as faculties
to the one substance of the soul lodged in the heart. This was
a serious departure from the principles of the system, facilitating
a return of later Stoicism to the dualism of God and the world,
reason and the irrational part in man, which Chrysippushad striven
Ito surmount.'
Yet in the general approximation and fusion of opposing views
mhicb had set in, the Stoics fared far better than rival schools,
^eir system became best known and most widely used by indi-
vidual eclectics. All the assaults of the sceptical Academy had
failed, and within fifty years of the death of Carneades his degener-
ate successors, unable to hold their ground on the question of the
criterion, had capitulated to the enemy. Antiochus of Ascalon, the
professed restorer of the Old Academy, taught a medley of Stoic
and Peripatetic dogmas, which he boldly asserted Zeno had first
borrowed from his school. The wide diffusion of Stoic phraseology
ind Stoic modes of thought may be seen on all hands, — in the
language of tlie New Testament writers, in the compendious
"histories of philosophy" industriously circulated by a host of
writers about this time (c/. H. Diels, Doxographi Ormci).
The writings of the later Stoics have come down to lis,
if not entire, in great part, so that Seneca, Cornutus,
Persius, Lucan, Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius are known at
first hand. They do not profess to give a scientific exposi-
tion of doctrine, and may therefore be dismissed somewhat
briefly (see Epictetus and Autrelius). We learn much
more about the Stoic system from the scanty fragments of
the first founders,- or even from the epitomes of Diogenes
Laertius and Stobseus, than from these writers. They tes-
tify to the restriction of philosophy to the practical side, and
to the increasing tendency, ever since Panstius, towards a
relaxation of the rigorous ethical doctrine and its approxi-
mation to the form of religious conviction. This finds
most marked expression in the doctrines of submission to
Providence and universal philanthropy. Only in this way
could they hold their ground, however insecurely, in face
of the religious reaction of the first century. In passing to
Rome, Stoicism quitted the school for actual life. The fall
of the republic was a gain, for it released so much intellec-
tual activity from civic duties. The life and death of Cato
fired the imagination of a degenerate age in which he stood
out both as a Roman and a Stoic. To a long line of illus-
trious successors, men like Pietus Thrasea and Helvidius
Priscus, Cato bequeathed his resolute opposition to the
dominant power of the times ; unsympathetic, impractic-
able, but fearless in demeanour, they. were a standing re-
proach to the corruption and tyranny of their age. But
' Works of Posidonius and Hecato have served as the basis of
extant Latin treatises. Cicero, He Dimnationt, perhaps De Natura
Deormn, i., ii., comes in part from Posidonius ; Cicero, De Finibus,
111., and Seneca, De Beneficiis, i.-iv., from Hecato, who is also the
aonrce of Stobsus, Ed. Eth., ii. 110. Cf. H. H. Fowler, Panslii et
Beeatonis Frag>nenta, Bonn, 1885.
' Cf. C. Wachsmuth, Commentationes II. de Zenone Citiensi et
Cleant/ie Assio, Gbttingen, 1874. Baguet's Chr^sJpjnu, Louvain,
1822, is unfortunately very incomplete.
when at first, under Augustus, the empire restored orde^
philosophy became bolder and addressed every class ia
society, public lectures and spiritual direction being the
two forms in which it mainly showed activity. Books ofl
direction were written by Sextius in Greek (as' afterwarda
by Seneca in Latin), almost the only Roman who had tha
ambition to found a sect, though in ethics he mainly
followed Stoicism. His contemporary Papirius Fabianu^
was the popular lecturer of that day, producing a powerful
effect by his denunciations of the manners of the timei
Under Tiberius, Sotion and Attains were attended bjf
crowds of hearers. In Seneca's time there was a professor}-
badly attended it is true, even in a provincial town lika
Naples. At the same time the antiquarian study of Stoiq
writings went on apace, especially those of the earliest!
teachers, — Zeno and Aristo and Cleanthes.
Seneca is. the most prominent leader in the direction]
which Roman Stoicism now took. His penetrating^
intellect had mastered the subtleties of the system o^
Chrysippus, but they seldom appear in his works, at least
without apology. Incidentally we meet there with tha
doctrines of Pneuma and of tension, of the corjjoreal naturo
of the virtues and the affections, and much more to the
same effect. But his attention is claimed for physica
chiefly as a means of elevating the mind, and as making
known the wisdom of Providence and the moral governs
ment of the world. To reconcile the ways of God to maa
had been the ambition of Chrysippus, as we know from:
Plutarch's criticisms. He argued plausibly that natural
evil was a thing indifferent, — that even moral evil was
required in the divine economy as a foil to set off good.
The really difficult problem why the prosperity of the
wicked and the calamity of the just were permitted under
the divine government he met in various ways : some-
times he alleged the forgetfulness of higher powers ; some-
times he fell back upon the necessity of these contrasts
and grotesque passages in the comedy of human life.
Seneca gives the true Stoic answer in his treatise On Pro-
vidence : the wise man cannot really meet with misfortune ;
all outward calamity is a divine instrument of training,
designed to exercise his powers and teach the world the
indifference of external conditions. In the soul Seneca"
recognizes an effluence of the divine spirit, a god in the
human frame ; in virtue of this he maintains the essential
dignity and internal freedom of man in every human
being. Yet, in striking contrast to this orthodox tenet
is his vivid conception of the weakness and misery of
men, the hopelessness of the struggle with evil, whether
in society or in the individual. Thus he describes the
body (which, after Epicurus, he calls the flesh) as a there
husk or fetter or prison of the soul ; with its departure
begins the soul's true life. Sometimes, too, he writes as if
he accepted an irrational as well as a rational part of the
soul. In ethics, if there is no novelty of doctrine, there is
a surprising change in the mode of its application. The
ideal sage has receded ; philosophy comes as a physician,
not to the whole but to the sick. We learn that there are
various classes of patients in " progress " (TrpoKOTrrj), i.e., on
their way to virtue, making painful efforts towards it.
The first stage is the eradication of vicious habits : evil
tendencies are to be corrected, and a guard kept on the
corrupt propensities of the reason. Suppose this achieved,
we have yet to struggle with single attacks of the
passions : irascibility may be cured, but we may succumb
to a fit of rage. To achieve this second stage the impulses
must be trained in such a way that the fitness of things
indifferent may be the guide of conduct. Even then it
remains to give the will that property of rigid infallibility
without which we are always liable to err, and this must
be effected by the training of the judgment Otben-
S T O — S T 0
573
peculiarities of the later Stoic ethics are due to the con-
dition of the times. In a time of moral corruption and
oppressive rule, as the early empire repeatedly became to
the privileged classes of Roman society, a general feeling
of insecurity led the student of philosophy to seek in it a
refuge against the vicissitudes of fortune which he daily
beheld. The less any one man could do to interfere in the
government, or even to safeguard his own life and prop-
erty, the more heavily the common fate pressed upon all,
levelling the ordinary distinctions of class and character.
Driven inwards upon themselves, they employed their
energy in severe self-examination, or they cultivated resig-
nation to the will of the universe, and towards their fellow-
men forbearance and forgiveness and humility, the virtues
of the philanthropic disposition. With Seneca this resig-
nation took the form of a constant meditation upon death.
Timid by nature, aware of his impending doom, and at
times justly dissaSisfied with himself, he tries all means of
reconciling himself to the idea of suicide. The act had
always been accounted allowable in the school, if circum-
stances should call for it : indeed, the first three teachers
had found such circumstances in the infirmity of old age.
But their attitude towards the " way out " (iiaywyq) of
incurable discomforts is quite unlike the anxious senti-
mentalism with which Seneca dwells upon death.
From Seneca we turn, not without satisfaction, to men
of sterner mould, such as Musonius Rufus, who certainly
deserves a place beside his more illustrious disciple,
Epictetus. As a teacher he commanded universal resjsect,
and wherever we catch a glimpse of his activity in these
perilous times — whether banished by Nero, or excepted
from banishment by Vespasian, as the judicial prosecutor
of that foul traitor Egnatius Celer, or as thrusting himself
between the ranks of Vespasianists and Vitellianists, to
preach conciliation on the eve of a battle — he appears to
advantage. His philosophy, however, is yet more con-
centrated upon practice than Seneca's, and in, ethics he is
almost at the position of Aristo. Virtue is the sole end,
but virtue may be gained without many doctrines, mainly
by habit and training. Epictetus testifies to the powerful
hold he accfuired upon his pupils, each of whom felt as if
Musonius spoke .to his heart. Amongst a mass of his
practical precepts, we como across an original thought, the
famous distinction between " things in our power," i.e.,
our ideas and imaginations, and " things beyond our
power," i.e., the cour.se of eveuts and external advantages.
The practical lesson drawn from it is, that we must school
ourselves to accept willingly the inevitable.
In the life and teacliing of Ejiictetus this thought bore
abundant fruit. The beautiful character which rose
superior to weakness, poverty, and slave's estate is also
presented to us in the Discoztrses of his disciple Arrian
as a model of religious resignation, of forbearance and love
towards our brethren, that is, towards all men, since God
is our common father; With him even the " physical
basis " of ethics takes the form of a religious dogma, — the
providence of God and the perfection of the world. Wo
learn that he regards the Sat'nwv or " guardian angel " as
the divine part in each man ; sometimes it is more nearly
conscience, at other times reason. His ethics, too, has a
religious character. He begins with human weakness and
man's need of God : whoso would become good must first
be convinced that he is evil. Submission is enforced by
an argument which almost amounts to a retractation of
the difference between things natural and things contrary
to nature, as understood by Zeno. WOuld you be cut off
from the universe? be asks. Go to, grow healthy and
rich. But if not, if you are a part of it, then become
resigned to your lot. Towards this goal of approximation
to Cynicism the later Stoics had all along been tending.
Withdrawal from the active duty of the world must ledd
to passive endurance, and, ere long, complete indifference;
Musonius had recommended marriage and condemned
unsparingly the exposure of infants. Epictetus, however,
would have the sage hold aloof from domestic cares,'
another Cynic trait. So, too, in his great maxim " bear
and forbear," the last is a command to refrain from the
external advantages which nature offers.
Epictetus is marked out amongst Stoics by his renuncia-
tion of the world. He is followed by a Stoic emperor, Mi
Aurelius Antoninus, who, though in the world, was not
of it. The Meditations give no systematic exposition of
belief, but there are many indications of the religious spirit
we have already observed, together with an almost Platonio
psychology. Following Epictetus, he speaks of man a»
a corpse bearing about a soul ; at another time he has
a threefold division — (1) body, (2) soul, the seat of impulse
{Trvev/xaTLov), and (3) vous or intelligence, the proper ego.
In all he writes there is a vein of sadness : the flux of all
things, the vanity of life, are thoughts which perpetually
recur, along with resignation to the will of God and for-
bearance towards others, and the religious longing to be rid
of the burden and to depart to God. These peculiarities
in M. Antoninus may perhaps be explained in harmony
with the older Stoic teaching ; but, when taken in con-
nexion with the rise of Neoplatonism and the revival of
superstition, they are certainly significant. None of the
ancient systems fell so rapidly as the Stoa. It had just
touched the highest point of practical morality, and in a
generation after M. Antoninus there is hardly a professor
to be named. Its most valuable lessons to the world were
preserved In Christianity : but 'he grand simplicity of its
monism slumbered for fifteen centuries before it was re-
vived by Spinoza.
Literature. — The best modern authority is Zeller, Phil. d. Oriech. ,
iii. pt. i. (3d ed., 1880),— Eng. traiisl. Stoics, by Reichel (1879), and
Eclectics, by S. F. Alleyne (1883). Of the 214 numbers to which
tho bibliography of Stoicism extends in Ueberweg-Heinze, Grtind-
riss der Oescli. der Phil. (7th cd., 1886), may be cited F. Ravaissou,
Essai s^iT '.e Stoicismc, Paris, 1856 ; M. Heioze, Vie Lchrc vom
Logos, Oldenburg, 1872; H. Siebeck, Vntersuchungen :ur Phil. d.
Griechen, Halle, 1873, and Gesch. d. Fsychologie, i. %, Gotha, 1884 ;
R. Hirzel, "Die Entwicklung der stoisch. Phil.," in Unlcrsuch-
itngeti sii Ciccros Schri/tcn, ii. pp. 1-666, Leipsic, 1882 ; Ogereau,
Ussaisur le StjsUme des Stoiciens, Paris, 1885; L. Stein, Die Psy-
clwlogie der Stoa, i., Berlin, 1886. (R. D. H.) i
STOKE-UPON-TRENT, a market-town and municipal
and parliamentary borough of Staffordshire, is situated on
the Trent, on tho Trent and Mersey Canal, where it unites
with tho Ca'jldon Canal, and on tho London and North-
western and North Staffordshire railway lines, 2 miles
east of Newcastle-under-Lyme, and 15 north of Stafford.
It is connected with Burslem and other places by steam
tramway. The principal public buildings are tho town-
hall (183.5), with assembly rooms, the new market-hall
(1883), the Minton memorial building (1858), containing
rooms for art and .science classes, the free library and
museum (1878), and the North Staffordshire infirmary,
founded in 1815 and removed to its present site in 1868.
A cemetery 21 acres in extent was laid out in 1883.
There are statues of Josiah Wedgewood (18G3) and of
Colin Minton 'Campbell (188(5). The head ofTiccs of the
North Staffordshire Railway Company are in tho town.
Stoke has no antiquarian interest, and owes its importance
to the porcelain and earthenware manufactures. It may
ba regarded as tho centre of the " Potteries " district.
Stoke was created a parliamentary borough in 1832; with
two members, but by the Act of 1 88.5 a large part of this
went to form the new borough of Hanley. "The population
of tho municipal borough (formed in 1874, with an nrea
of 1660 acres), was 19,261 in 1881; tho area has sinca
been increased to 1720 acres. The population of the
574
S T O — B T O
parliamentary borough (area 90bl acres) in lS7l was
130,985, and in 1881 it was 152,394: ; the population of
the borough as adjusted in 1885, -which returns only one
member, is estimated at 65,000.
STOLBERG, or Stollberg, an industrial and mining
totsTi iu Ehenish Prussia, is situated on the Yieht, 7 miles
eiist of Aix-la-Chapelle. It is the centre of a very active
and varied industry, .exporting its produce to all parts of
the world. The leading branch is metal-working, which is
here carried on in important zinc, brass, and iron foundries,
smelting-works of various kinds, puddling and rolling works,
and manufactories of needles, pins, and other metal goods.
The ore is mostly found in the mines around the town,
but some is imported from a considerable distance. In or
near the town there are also large chemical works, glass-
works, a mirror-factory, and various minor establishments.
Extensive coal-mines in the neighbourhood provide the
enormous supply of fuel demanded by the various indus-
tries. The population in 1885 was 11,841.
The industrial prosperity of the town was founded in the middle
of the 17th century by French religious refugees, who introduced
the art of brass-founding. An ancient castle in the town is popu-
larly believed to have been a hunting-lodge of Charlemagne.
STOLBERG, Count Christian (1748-1821), German
poet, was born at Hamburg on the 15th Octobei- 1748.
His father. Count Christian Giinther, was a privy councillor
in Denmark. Stolberg studied at Gottingen, where he
formed one of a "Dichterbund," which afterwards became
famous. It included, besides Stolberg and his brother,
Boie, Biirger, I>Liller, Voss, Holty, and Leisewitz. In 1777
he became an official in the civil service at Tremsbiittel in
Holstein, and married Louise, the countess of Reventlow,
whose beauty he had often celebrated in his verses. He
resigned his office in 1800, and afterwards lived upon his
estate in Schleswig. He died January 18, 1821.
Stolberg was not a poet of high originality, but in some of his
poems he gave vigorous expression to sincere and ardent feeling.
He excelled, too, in the utterance of gentle and delicate sentiment.
Much of his work appeared in association mth that of his brother,
whf'se genius was bolder and more impressive than his o\vn.' They
published together a volume of poems in 1779, and Schaitsjncle
mil Chonn in 1787, their object in the latter work being to revive
a love for the Greek drama. The dramas contributed to this
volume by Christian Stolberg are Bnhazar and Otanes. In 1815
the brothers issued a volume of VatcHdndischi: Gedichtc. Christian
Stolberg was the sole author of Gcdichte aiis dcm Griechischmi
(1782) and of a translation of the works of Sophocles (1787). All
his poetical works are included in the Werke der Briider Stolberg
(20 vols., 1S20-25).
STOLBERG, Count Feedeeick Leopold (1750-1819),
the brother of the preceding, was born on the 7 th November
1750, at Bramstedt in Holsteiiu Like his brother he
studied at Gottingen, and was a member of the " Dichter-
bund." In 1776 he went to Copenhagen as ambassador
of the prince-bishop of Liibeck, and in 1789 he was sent
to Berlin as the ambassador of tlie king of Denmark.
His first wife, whom he Iiad married in 1782, having died,
he married the Countess Sophia von Eedern in 1790, and
in the following year he was appointed president of the
government of the prince-bishop at Eutin. In 1800 he
resigned his office, and at Munster joined the Church of
Rome, taking with him all the members of his family
except his eldest daughter Agnes, who had married Count
Ferdinand von Stolberg-Wernigerode. Stolberg's friends
and admirers were astonished by his conversion to the
Roman Church, and he was hotly attacked by Voss, whose
intervention gave rise to a bitter controversy. After his
1 hange of faith Stolberg issued an elaborate Gesckichte der
Religion Jesu Christi, in which he hardly even attempted
to wi'ite with iniijartial judgment. He died near Osna-
briick on the 5th December 1819.
In association with his brother he pnhlished Gedichtc ; Schcm-
tfiele mil Cliorcii ; iinil fatcrhiiidiscltc GcdicIUc. He also wrote
JamOcii (178 1), a scries of satires on the vices and prejudices of his
time; and he traUKlated the /Had, some of Plato'.s dialogues, foui
tragedies of jEschylus, aud Ossian's poeins. Among Lis prose
writings may be mentioned Die Iiisel, a romance (1788); Eiiic
Rcise ill Dcnl^chlnnrl, der Schwcit, ItcJic'n, mid Sicilim (1794); and
his Lcbai Alfred's dcs Grosscn (ISl.^^). He was a master of many
forms of poetical e.xpression, and ia bis best jjeriod he produced a
strong impression on liis coutemjioraries bv Lis passion for nature
and freedom
Biopr;<pities of SloiberK ntrre oeen written Tjv I^colovms. Wen^. Wiertd
Hennes. und Janssen.
STOLP, or Stolpe, an ancient trading-town in the bleal:
coast-plain of eastern Pomerania, Prussia, is situated oa ti«;
Stolpe, 10 miles from the Baltic Sea and 64 miles to tlio
west of Dautzic. The large church of St Mary, with a
lofty tower, dating from the 14th century, the Renais.sance
castle of the 16th century, now used as a prison, and one
of the ancient town-gates restored in 1672 are memorial-
of the time when Stolp was a prosperous member of th'-
Hanseatic League. The manufacture of amber articles,
tobacco and cigars, cigar-boxes, kc, with some iror
founding, linen-weaving, and salmon-fishing in the Stolpe,
are the chief industrial occupations of the inhabitants, who
also carry on trade in grain, cattle, spirits, fish, and geese.
Stolpmiinde, a fishing-\-illage and summer resort, at the
mouth of the river, is the port of Stolp. The population
of Stolp in 1885 was 22,431 (in 1616 5260), about 600
being Roman Catholics and about 1000 Jews.
Stolp, mentioned in the 11th century, received town-rights in
1273. From the 14th to the 16th century it was a member of the
Hanseatic League. Until 1637, when it passed to Brandenburg,. the
town was generally in the possession of the dukes of Pomerania.
STOMACH. See DiGEsnvi: Oegans.
STOMACH, Diseases of the. Only the more com-
mon and serious varieties of gastric disease can be here
referred to. The majority of them exhibit, as their most
marked and sometimes their only feature, the symptoms
of Dyspepsia {q-v.). Hence the diagnosis of the forms
of stomach disease is frequently a matter of much difficulty.
Nevertheless a careful consideration of the history and the
manifested phenomena of a given case may often lead to a
correct identification of its nature. The present notice
refers in general terms to the most prominent symptoms
which usually characterize the chief gastric disorders.
The stomach is liable to inflammatory affections, of which the
condition of catarrh, or irritation of its mucous membrane, is the
most frequent and most readily recognized. This may exist in an
acute or a chronic form, and depends upon some condition, either
local or gener.-il, which produces a congested state of the circula-
tion in the walls of the stomach.
Aciite Gastric Catarrh may arise from various causes, of which
the most important are — (1) constitutional conditions, such as the
gouty or rheumatic, or an inherited tendency to irritability of the
digestive organs ; (2) errors in di&t, particularly excessive quantity,'
indigestible quality, imperfect mastication, extremes of temperature
of the food, to.xic agenl^, especially alcohol, in excess, or food in a
state of decomposition; (3) atmosplieric influences, as appears evi-
dent from its tendency to occur in very warm or very cold weather
or in the case of sudden temperature alternations.
The chief change the stomach undergoes aflects its mucous
membrane, which is in a state of congestion, either throughout or
in parts. It is more than probable that this condition produces
an alteration in the secreting function of the organ, and that its
peptic juices become less potent, the eifect of which will be to retard
the process of digestion and favour the occurrence of decomposi-
tion and fermentatioi) in its contents, thus aggravating the original
evil. The symptoms are those well known as <eharacterizing an
acute "bilious attack," consisting in loss of appetite, sickness or
nausea, and headache, frontal or occipital, often accompanied with
giddiness. The tongue is furred, the breath foetid, and there is
pain or discomfort in the region of the stomach, with sour eructa-
tions, and frequently vomiting, first of food and then of bilious
matter. An attack of this kind tends to subside in a few days,
especially if the exciting cause be removed. Sometimes, however,
the symptoms recur with such frequency as to lead to tlie more
serious chronic form of the disease.
The treatment bears reference,, in the first place, to any known
source of irritation, which, if it exist, may be e.xpelled by an emetio
or purgative. This, however, is seldom necessary, since vomiting
is usually present. For the relief of sickness and pain the sucking
8 r O M A C H
575
of ic8 and counter-irritation over the region of the stomach are of
serrice Further, remedies which exercise a soothmg eftect upon
an irritable mucous membraiie, such as bismuth or weak aUcalme
fluids, and along with these the i;so of a light mUk diet, are usually
sufficient to remove the symptoms.
Chronic Gastric Catarrh may result from the acute or may arise
.indeoendeDtly. It U not unfrequcntly connected with antecedent
dUeaTe in other organs, such as the lungs, heart, liver, or kidneys,
ind it is specially common in persons addicted to alcohoUc excess.
In this form the texture of the stomach is more seriously allected
than in the acute. It is permanently in a state of congestion, and
JU mucous membrane and muscular coat undergo thickening and
other changes, which, besides markedly affecting the function ol
dicestion, may lead to stricture of the pyloric orifice of the stomach
a?d its results, to be subsequently referred to. The symptoms are
those of dyspepsia in an aggravated form (see Dyspepsia) of which
discomfort and pain after food, with distension and frequently vomit-
ina are the chief; and the treatment must be conducted in reference
to the causes giving rise to it. The careful regu ation of the diet
/see Dietetics), both as to the amount, the quality, and the inter-
vals between meals, demands special attention. Of medicina
agents bismuth, arsenic, nux vomica, and the mineral acids are all
of acknowledged efficacy, as are also preparations of pepsin.
UUcr of the Stomach (gastric ulcer, perforating ulcer) is ol not
unfrequent occurrence, and is a disease of much gravity. Its causes
a-e probably not fully understood, yet the following points may
be regarded as generaUy admitted :-(!) that the disease is twice
as common in females as in males, and that it is found to affect
domestic servants more frequently than any other class ; (2) that
it occurs for the most part in early life, the period from twenty
to thirty including the great majority of the cases ; (3) that it
apoears to be connected in many instances withximpairment of the
circulation in the stomach and the formation of a clot in a small
blood-vessel (thrombosis) ; (i) that such an occurrence may arise m
connexion with an impoverished state of the blood (anamia), which
is actually the condition present in many of the cases, but that it
may also arise from diseased blood-vessels, the result of long-con-
tinued catarrh, or from the irritation and debiHtating effects of hot
or cold substances. . . , , . vi ^
It is held that when any such obstruction takes place in a blood-
vessel the nutririon of a limited area of the stomach is cut off, and
vessel tne nunuiuu ui a iwuc.d «'v." «• "■■>' ">- ■
the part is apt to undergo disintegrarion aU the more readily from
the unresisted acti on of the gastric j uices upon it. Hence an ulcer is
formed. This ulcer is usually of small si26 (i to 1 inch in diameter),
of round or oval form, and tends to advance, not superficially, but
to penetrate through the coats of the stomach. Its most usual site
is upon the posterior wall of the upper or lesser curvature of the
stomach and near to the pyloric orifice. It may undergo a healing
process at any stage, in which case it may leave but little trace ol
its existence ; while, on the other hand, it may in the course of
cicatrizing produce such an amount of contraction as to lead to
stricture of the pylorus. But, again, perforation may take place
which in most cases is quickly faUl, unless previously the stomach
has become, as it may, adherent to another organ, by which the
dangerous effects of this occurrence may be averted. Usually there
is but one ulcer, but sometimes there are more.
The symptoms to which this disease gives rise are often exceed-
inely indefinite and obscure, and in some cases the diagnosis has
been first made out by the sudden occurrence of a fatal perforation.
Generally however, there are certain evidences more or less distinct
which tend to indicate the probable presence of a gastric ulcer
First among these is pain, which is in some measure present at all
times but is markedly increased after food. This pain is situated
either in front, at the lower end of the sternum, or fully more
commonly behind, about the middle of the back. Sometimes it
is felt at one or both sides. It is often extremely severe, and is
usually accompanied with much tenderness to touch, and also ^vltlI•
a sense of oppressi6n and inability to wear tight clothing. Ihe
pain is probably largely due to tlio active movements of the
stomach set up by tlio presence of the food. Accompanying the
pain there is frequently vomiting, either very soon after the lood is
swallowed or at a later period. This tends in some nieasuro to
relieve the pain and discomfort, and in many instances the patient
rather encourages this act Vomiting of blood (ha:matcmosis) is a
frequent sympLom, and is most important diagnostically. It may
show itself either to a slight extent, and in the form of a brown or
coHoe-like mixture, or as an enormous discharge of pure blood of
dark colour and containing clots. The source of the blood is some
T -ssel or vessels which the ulcerative process has ruptunsd. Kioo.1
is also found mixed with the discharges from the bowels rendering
them d*rk aud tarry looking. The general condition of a patient
with gastric ulcer is as a rule that of ill-health, showing pallor,
more or less emaciation, and debility. The tongue presents a red
irritable appearance, and there is usually constipation of the bowels.
T1.0 course of a casa of gastric ulcer is very variable. In some
InsUnces it wouw apiiujr 1© be acute, making rapid progress to a
favourabls or unfavourable termination. In most, however, the
disease is chronic, la.sting for mouths or years; and in those cases
where the ulcers are multiple or of extensive size incomplete healing
may take place and relapses of the symptoms occur Irom time to
time. Ulcei-s are sometimes pnjsent and give rise to no marked
symptoms ; and it has occurred to the writer to see more than one
instance of this kijid where fatal perforation suddenly took place,
and where posl-inortcm examination revealed the existence of long-
standing ulcers which could not possibly have been made out by
any evidences furnished during life. While gastric ulcer is always
to be regarded as a dangerous disease, its termination, in the great
majority of cases, is in recovery. It frequently, however, leaves
the stomach in a delicate condition, necessitating the utmost care
as regards diet. Occasionally, though rarely, the disease proves
fatal by sudden hiemorrhagc but a fatal result is more frequently
due to perforation aiid the extrusion of the contents of the stomacb
into the peiitoneal cavity, in which case death usually occurs lu
from twelve to forty-eight hours, either from shock or from peii-
touitis. Should the stomach become adherent to another organ,
and fatal perforation be thus prevented, there may remain as the
result of this a permanent condition of dyspepsia, owing to inter-
ference with the natural movements of the stomach during diges-
tion • whUe again stricture of the pylorus and consequent dilaUtion
of the stomach is an occasional result of the cicatrization of an ulcer
in its neighbourhood. , , . ■,. • »i • r i
Of prime importance' in the treatment of this disease is the carelul
adjustment of the diet, the conditions existing in the stemach
obviously requiring that the food administered should be of as
bland and soft a character as possible. Of all substances milk
forms the most suitable alunent, and, while there may be instances
in which it fails to agree, even when mixed with lime water or
previously boiled, these are comparatively few. The peptonized
foods originally suggested by Sir Wm. Roberts of Manchester are
frequently found of much service in this disease. Light soups as
well as milk may sometimes be administered in this way \vith
benefit. The quantity, the intervals between the times of ad-
ministration, and the temperature, as weU as the quantity, of the
food demand careful attention. In severe case?, where the pre-
sence of food in the stomach gives rise to much suffering, nounsti-
ment by the bowel may be given for a time with great advantage.
Of medicinal remedies the most serviceable are large doses of
bismuth, with which it may be necessary to conjoin small doses o
opium or of hydrocyanic acid for the relief of pain. The careful
administrarion of nitrate of silver has been recommended as a
means of promoting the healing of the ulcers, but this end is pro-
bably more readily accomplished by the remedies and especially by
the method of diet already referred to, combined with rest. ^V hen
hsemorrhage occurs it is relieved by ice and by such styptics as
gallic acid, ergot of rye, lead, alum, &c., while in the dread event
of perforation the only means of affording relief is opium. ,
Cancer of the Stomach is one of the most common forms of internal
cancerous disease. It occurs for the most part m persons at or
after middle life, and in both sexes equally. Hereditary tendency
may not uhfrequently be traced. ^v * ». .„
The most common varieties of cancer affecting the stomach are
scirrhus medullary, and colloid, and the parta affected are usually
the inlet or outlet orifices ; but the morbid process may spread
widely in the stomach wall. When in the neighbourhood of the
pylorus a stricture is frequently produced as the disease advances.
The cancerous growth usually commences in the submucous tissue,
but as it progresses it tends to ulcerate through the mucous mem-
brane and in this process ha;monhage and heematemesis may
occur Tho symptoms of this disease are in many instances so
indefinite as to render the diagnosis for a long time conjectural.
They are mostly those of dyspepsia, with more or less pain, dis-
comfort, and vomiting, particularly after meals. The vomited
matters are often of coffee-ground appearance, due to admixture
with blood, but copious htematemesis is less frequent than in cases
of gastric ulcer. The patient loses flesh and strength and soon
comes to acquire tho cachectic aspect commonly associated with
cancer. The diagnosis is rendered all the more certain when as
is frequently the case, a tumour can bo detected on examination
over tlio region of tho stomach, but there are many instances where
no such evidence is obtained and where tho nature of the d seaso
is left to be made out by the age of tho patient nnd by t»'« >"'™=';
abW and progressive character of the symptoms. .C^'f" of cancer
of the stomach advance with more or ess lamd.ty to a fatal
termination, which is usually quickest in the "^''^1'''7 f"^" ■ .,f °
most instances death takes place m from slx to t^vdve mon is^
The treatment can only be palliative bnt much relief ma often
bo afforded by a careful attention to diet, by the treatment apph-
cable to dilatation of the stomach, and by the use of opium
Stncturc of Uu Pylorus may, as ha^i been already indicated result
from tho vaiious morbid conditions allecliug he stomach to «hnh
reference has been made, namely, c.tuirh, "'f ^- """^ ""f"" "/
whatever means produced, the elloct is nu obstruction to th« trana-
mission through the pyloric orifice into tho "''"''n™ "^ ^^ 'V^
tents of the stomach, the occurrence ol dilatation of tho organ, wit'
570
S T 0 — S T 0
weakening of itsw'alls,' and the consequent accumulation and fer-
mentation of partially digested food. This condition "gives rise to
much discomfort, heartburn, and pain, and to tiie occuiTence every
/ew daj's of a copious vomiting of fermenting material, in which
may be found ou toicroscopic examination the fungoid growths of
SareiTia and Torulx. ^Vith the continuance of the disease the
symptoms tend to inci'i^ase and to wear out the patient's strength,
since little or no assimilation is possible, and death sooner or later
takes place from inanition. For a long time this condition was
regarded as incurable in every case, till the method of treatment,
originally suggested by Kiissmaul, of washing out the stomach
daily or less frequently was found to yield remarkably beneficial
re-iults in almost all cases, and, in many instances of non -cancerous
disease, to accomplish an actual cure. This plan of treatment is
now largely resorted to, and it has proved to te a valuable addition
to the therapeutics of gastric diseases. (J. 0. A.)
STONE, a market-town of Staffordshire, England, on
the river Trent, and on the North Staffordshire Railway,
7 miles south of Stoke and 7 north of Stafford. Part of
the walls remain of an abbey which dates from the foun-
dation of a college of canons in 670. The present ciiurch
was opened in 1750. The inhabitants are employed chiefly
in shoemakiug, but malting, brewing, and tanning are also
carried on. . The population of the urban sanitary district
(estimated area 1000 acres) was 5669 in ISSl."^
STONE. See Vesical Diseases.^
STONEHENGE, one of the most remarkable examples
of the ancient stone circles, is situated in Salisbury Plain,
Wiltshire, aboht 7 miles nortL of Salisbury. It consists
of two circles and two ovals with a large stone in the
centre. '^ The outer circle, about 300 feet in circumference,
is composed of upright stones about 16 feet in height and
18 feet in circumference, with others of similar size placed
horizontally on their tops. Originally there were thirty
uprights and thirty imposts, but now only seventeen
uprights and seven imposts retain their position; iThe
inner circle, which -is about 9 feet distant from the outer
circle, consisted originally of forty single stones,' much
smaller in size, and, unlike those of the outer circle,
showing no evidence of having been hewn. •• The larger of
the ovals was composed of five pairs of trilithons standing
separate from each other, and rising gradually in height
from east to west. Only two of these now remain entire ;
ono of the uprights of the grand central trilithon has
fallen, arid is broken in two pieces ; the impost though
fallen is entire, and the other impost is 9 fe«t. out of the
perpendicular; another trilithon fell outward on the 3d
June 1797 ; and of a third one of the uprights is still
standing, the other upright and the impost having in their
fall been broken into three pieces. The inner oval con-
sisted originally of nineteen stones, of which there are
remains of eleven, tapering in form and taller than those.of
the inner circle. In the centre of the smaller oval is the
supposed altar stone, 16 feet in length. \ The whole is
surrounded by a vallum and ditch about 370 yards in
circumference. From the north-east an avenue, marked
by a bank and ditch ori each side, proceeds for a distance
of 594 yards, after which it divides into two branches,
one going eastwards up a hill between two groups of
barrows, and the Other north-westwards about 300 yards
to the cursus or race-course. The cmsus, which is enclosed
between two parallel banks and ditches running east and
west, is. a mile and 176 yards in length, with a breadth of
110 yards. There is a smaller cursus a little to the
north. ° In the avenue there is a cromlech or bowing-stona
16 feet in length, called the Friar's Heel, and in a line with
it, within the area of the work, there is a large prostrate
stone on which it is supposed the victims were immolated.
Barrows lie. around on all sides.
Stonehenge is first mentioned by Nennius, in the 9th centruy,
who. asserts that it was erected in commemoration of the 400
nobles who were trencheiously slain near the spot by Hengist in
472. A similar account of its origin is Riven in the triads of the
Welsh bards, wIutp ita erf>ctinn is sttributed to King Merlin, the
successor of Vortigem. ' Inigo Jones, in his work on Stonehenge,
published in 1655, endeavours to prove that it was a temple of the
Romans, but later writers of authority are generally agreed that it
is of Druidiual origin, although there are differences of opinion as
to its probable date, some placing it at 100 years before Christ
and others in the 5th century. It seems most probable that
the inner circle and inner oval, constructed of smaller stones of
granite, which must have been brought from a distance. Is of
earlier origin than the outer circle and oval.
Amonu numeious wi-itings on Stonehenge may be mentioned Stonthnge and
Abury. by ])r William Stuktley. 1740, rtprmted in 1840; Davies's CtltK Raearrhti,
ISOI, and Mt/tnology of the Druids, Isoy, Hoaie's Ancient M'lttx/dre. toL I., 1812;
Elowne. An Il!vstvalionof Stonehenge and Aburu. 1823; the article on Stonehenge
in the Quarter!!/ Retiein for July 18c.O; l.ongs Slotiehenge and its Barrowi. 1876;
Gidley. Stont/ienge Vteieed in the light of Ancient History and Modern Observa^
lion, 1877.
STONE MASONKY. See Building, vol. iv. p. 468.
STONINGTON, a borough and seaport of the United
States, in New London county, Connecticut, is situated
on Long Island Sound, 139 miJes from New York by the
railway to Providence and Boston. It is built on a narrow
rocky point, and is a quiet quaint-looking town, largely fre-
quented as a summer watering-place. Its industries com-
prise silk-throwing and the manufacture of silk machinery,
and it has a considerable interest in sealing. . Here antl
there- may still be seen traces of the bombardment by the
British under Sir Thomas Hardy in August 1814. v The har-
bour is protected by two breakwaters ; it is the terminus
of a daily line of steamers from New York. The popula-
tion of the township was 6313 in 1870, and 7355 in 1880.
Settled in 1649, the borough was incorporated in 1801.
.STORAGE, Stephen (1763-1796), dramatic composer,
pas born in London in' 1763. His father, Stefano Storace,
an Italian contrabassist, taught him the violin so well
that at ten years old he played successfully the most
difficult music of the day. After completing his educa-
tion at the Conservatorio di Sant' Onofrio at Naples, he
produced his first opera, Gli Sposi Makontenti, at Vienna,
in 1785.' Here he made the acquaintance of Mozart, in
whose Nozze di Figaro his sister, Anna Selina Storace,
first sang the part of Susanna. Here also, he produced
a second opera, Gli Equivoci, founded ou Shakespeare's
Comedy of Errors, and a " Singspiel " entitled Der Doctor
und der Apotheker. But his greatest triumphs were
achieved in England, whither he returned in 1787. » After
creating a favourable impression by bringing out his
" Singspiel " at Drury Lane, under the title of The Doctor
and the Apothecary, Storace attained his first great success
in 1789, in 7'Ae Haunted Tower, a genuine English opera,
which ran for fifty nights in succession, and retained its
popularity long after the opening of the present century.
No Song No Supper was equally successful in 1790; and
The Siege of Belgrade scarcely less so in 1791. The
music of The Pirates, produced in 1792, was partly adapted
from Gli Equivoci, and is remarkable as aHording one of
the earliest instances of the introduction of a grand
finale into an English opera. These works were followed
by some less successful productions ; "^ but The Cherokee
(1794) and The Three and the Deuce (1795) were very
favourably received, and the music to Colman's play.
The Iron Chest, first performed March 12, 1796, created
even a greater sensation than The Haunted Tower. This
was Storace's last work. He caught cold at the rehearsal,
and died in consequence, March 19, 1796.
The character of Storace's music is pre-eminently English ; but
his eaiiy intercourse with Mozart gave him an immense advantage
over his contemporaries in his management of the orchestra, while
for the excellence of his method of writing for the Toice he was
no doubt largely indebted to the charming vocalization of his
sister Anna. This lady, who has attained lasting honour as the
origiiia! representative of Susanna in Le Nozze di Figaro, was bom
in London in 1766, completed her education at Venice under
Sacohini, sang for Mozart at Vienna, and first appeared at the
King's Theatre in London in 1787. After contributing greatly to
the success of The Hainitcd Tower and her brother's later operas,
she crowned a long and brilliant career by winning great laurels 8t
S T 0 — S T 0
577
ihe Handel Commemoration at Westminster Abbey iu 1791, retired
from public life in 1808, and died August 24, 1817. During her
stay in Vienna she married John Abraham Fisher, a celebrated
violinist ; but he used her so cruelly that she refused to bear his
name, and in her will — bequeathing property to the amount o£
£50,000— styled herself "spinster."
STORAX. It has been explained in Incense (vol. xii.
p. 718) and Liqotdambak (vol. xiv. p. 687) that the
storax of commerce and the pharmacopoeia (used as an
emollient) is derived from the Oriental liqnidambar tree.
The storax of the ancients, on the other hand, a solid gum
which does not now occur in commerce, appears to have
been the product of the beautiful white-flowered shrub
Styrax officinalis, which is still common on Carmel and
ebewhere in Syria. It was much used as an incense, and
formed an early and important article of Phoenician trade
(see Movers, Phmizier, ii. 3. 101, 223 sq.). It is probable
that the Greek word o-rvpaf is of Semitic origin, represent-
ing the Hebrew nv, which the English version renders
" balm " (Lagarde, Mittheilungen, p. 234 sq.).
STORK (A.S. Sto.c; Germ. Storch), the Ciconia alba of
ornithology, and, through picture and story, one of tho
best known of foreign birds ; for, though often visiting
Britain, it has never been a native or even inhabitant of
the country. It is a summer-visitant to most parts of the
European continent, — the chief exceptions being France
(where the native race has been destroyed), Italy, and
Russia, — breeding from southern Sweden to Spain and
Greece, and being especially common in- Poland.^ It
reappears again in Asia Minor, the Caucasus, Persia, and
Turkestan, but further to the eastward it is replaced
by an allied species, C. boyciana, which reaches Japan.
Though occasionally using trees (as was most likely its
original habit) for the purpose, the Stork most generally
places its nest on buildings,^ a fact familiar to travellers
in Denmark, Holland, and Germany, and it is nearly
everywhere a cherished guest, popular belief ascribing
good luck to the house to which it attaches itself.^ Its.
food, consisting mainly of frogs and insects, is gathered in
the neighbouring pastures, across which it may be seen
stalking with an air of quiet dignity ; but in the season
of love it indulges in gestures which can only be called
grotesque, — leaping from the ground with extended wings
in a kind of dance, and, absolutely voiceless as it is,
making a loud noise by the clattering of its mandibles.
At other times it may be seen gravely resting on one leg
on an elevated place, thence to sweep aloft and circle with
a slow and majestic flight. Apart from its considerable
size, — 'and a Stork stands more than three feet in height, —
its contrasted plumage of pure white and deep black, with
its bright red bill and legs, makes it a conspicuous and
beautiful object, especially when seen against the fresh
green grass of a luxuriant meadow. In winter tho Storks
of Europe retire to Africa, — some of them, it would seem,
reaching the Cape Colony,— while those of Asia visit India.
A second species, with much the same range, but with
none of its relative's domestic disposition, is the Black
Stork, C. nigra, of which the upper parts arc black, bril-
liantly glossed with purple, copper, and green, while it is
white beneath, — thg bill and legs, with a patch of bare
skin round the eyes, being red. This bird breeds in lofty
' In that country its numbers are said to have greatly diminished
since about 1858, when a disastrous spring-storm overtook the home-
ward-bound birds. Tho like is to be said of Holland since about 18C0.
' To consult its convenience a stage of some kind, often a cartwheel,
is in many places set up and generally occupied by successive gener-
ations of tenants.
' Its common Dutch name is Ooijevaar, which can bo traced through
many forms (Koolmann, WOrlerb. d. Ostfries. 'Sprache, i. p. 8 sitft
Vjce "Adebar") to the old word Odebaro (" the briiiger of good "). In
countries where the Stork is abundant it enters largely into popular
talcs, songs, and proverbs, and from the davs of jEsop has been a
Aivourite in fable.
trees, generally those growing in a large forest. Two other
dark-coloured, but somewhat abnormal, species are the
purely African C. abdimii, and the C. episcopus, which
has a wider range, being found not only in Africa but in
India, Java, and Sumatra. The New World has only one
true Stork, C. maguari,* which inhabits South America,
and resembles not a little the C. boyciana above mentioned,
differing therefrom in its greenish-white bill and black tail.
Both these species are very like C. alba, but are larger,
and have a bare patch of red skin round the eyes.
The Storks form the Felargi of Nitzsch, as separated
by him from the Herons and the Ibises, but all three are
united by Prof. Huxley in his group Pelargomorpliee.
The relations of the Storks to the Herons may be doubt-
ful; but there is no doubt that the former include the
Jabieu (vol. xiii. p. 529) and its allies, as well as the
curious genus Anastomus (with its lower mandible hol-
lowed out so as only to meet the maxilla at the base and
the tip), of which there are an African and an Asiatic
species. Two other remarkable forms probably belong
to the Pelargi. I'hese are Balxniceps rex and Scopus
Shoe-Bill or 'Whale-Headed Stork. ^After Wolf in Trans. ZooU Soe.)
umbretta, each tho sole member of its own genus, and
both from Africa. ' The former, first brought to Europe
by Mr M. Parkyns from tho, White Nile, was regarded by
Gould, who described it in tho Zoological Proceedings
(18.51, pp. 1, 2, pi. XXXV.), as an abnormal Pelican. This'
view was disputed by Reinhardt {op. oil., 1860, p. 377),
and wholly dispelled by Prof. Parker in the Zoological
* This was formerly believed to bavo occurred in Europe, t>ut erron©*
ously, as was shown by ScUlegol (Jicv. Critii/ve, p. 104).
XXII. — 7.^
578
S T O — S T 0
Transaction (iv. pp. 269-351), though these two autnors
disagreea as to its affinities, the first placing it with the
btorks, the last assigning it to the Herons. In singularity
of aspect few birds surpass Balxniceps, with its gaunt
grey figure, some five feet in height, its large head sur-
mounted by a little curled tuft, the scowling expression of
Its eyes, and its huge bill in form not unlike a whale's
head— this last suggesting its generic name— but tipped
with a formidable hook. The shape of the bill has also
prompted the Arabs to call it, according to their idiom,
««!, KM,- *'4%.^.^?''" '^"'^ ^* ^^ b^«" designated
' Shoe-biU " in Enghsh.i The other form that remains to
be noticed is the Scopus umhreita of ornithologists, called
the ' Urabre" by Pennant. This was discovered by
Adanson the French traveller in Senegal about the middle
of the last century, and was described by Brisson in 1760
It has since been found to inhabit nearly the whole of
Africa and Madagascar, and is the "Hammerkop"
(Hammerhead) of the Cape colonists. Though not larger
than a Kaven, it builds an enormous nest, some six feet
m diameter, with a flat-topped roof and a small hole for
entrance and exit, and placed either on a tree or a rocky
iedge.- The bird, of an almost uniform brown colour
RlighUy glossed with purple, and its tail barred with black'
^as a long occipital crest, generally borne horizontally, so as
to give rise to its common name. It is somewhat sluc^gish
by day, but displays much activity at dusk, when it wiU
go through a series of strange performances. In all the
btorks so far as is known, the eggs are ^hite, and in
most forms distinguishable by the grain of their sheU
which, without being rough, is closely pitted with pore-like
depressions. A n t
STORMS. See Meteoeology, vol. xvi p 154 "
STORY, Joseph (1779-1845), was born' at Marble-
head, Massachusetts, Septembei 18, 1779, graduated at
Harvard in 1/98, and was admitted to the bar in Massa-
chusetts m 1801. He was a member of the Democratic
party then weak in New England but all-powerful in the
rest of the Union ; and his district made him its repre-
sentative in Congress for 1808-9. In 1811 one of the
associate-justiceships of the United States supreme court
became vacant, and Story was appointed to it, retaining
the office for hfe. Here he found his true sphere of work
Ihe traditions of the American people, their strong pre-
judice for the local supremacy of the States and against
a centra.ijed government, had yielded reluctantly to the
establishment of the federal legislative and executive in
i/HJ. Ihe federal judiciary had been organized at the
sa.ne time, but had never grasped the full measure of its
powers. Soon after Story's appointment the supreme
court Pegan to bring out into plain view the powers which
the constitutiofl had given it over State courts and State
legislation The leading place in this work -belongs to
Chief-Justice John Marshall, but Story has a very1ar<re
share in that remarkable series of decisions, and opinion!
from 1812 untd 1832, by which the work wa/accom^
pushed. In addition to this he built up the department
of admiralty law in the United States courts: and his
Commentaries on the American Constitution are still the
fading authority on the interpretation of that instrument.
He died at Cambridge, Massachusetts, where he was the
head of the Harvard law school, September 10, 1845
caneous LVorU; Story s Commentarus <m ihe ConstituHon of the
United States, and a great number of standard law-books of ir».W.
STOTHARD, Chaeles Alfred (1786-1821), antiqna-
nan draughtsman son of Thomas Stothard. noticed be?ow
w^ bom in London on July 5, 1786. After studyingTn
the schools of the Royal Academy, he began, in 1810 his
Castle. Having taken, a strong interest from an earlv
period in the costumes of different ages and naUonthe
pubhshed in 1811 the first part of his^aluable wo^ rS
^onumental Epgies of Great Britain. He was appo nte^
historical draughtsman to the Society of Antiquaries and
lugs of the well-known tapestry. He was made a fellow
of the society in 1819, ^d subsequently engaged in nume^
ous journeys with the view of illustrating the wo'rks of D
Lysons. -While engaged in tracing a portrait from one of
M)^ M *^ '^^"^ "^ Beer-Ferrers, Devonshire, he
feU and was killed on he spot (May 27, 1821). His widow
(afterwards Mrs Bray), along with her brother, completed
his JfonumentalEJlffies, left unfinished at his death A
lf.fe }'l^'^ '^^'^°^' ^^^ published in 1823. '
STOTHARD, Thomas (1755-1834), subject painter
was born m London on August 17, 1755, the son of a
weU-to-do innkeeper in Long Acre. Being a delicate child
t^Z'^Tf T 1^' °^,^^' *° ^ '^1^'i^^ i" Yorkshire
?.,tlf ^^ ^K ''^° at Acomb, and afterwards at Tad!
castle and at Ilford in Essex. Showing a turn for draw-
ng he was apprenticed to a draughtsman of patterns for
brocaded silks in SpitalSelds, and during his leisure hou^I
he attempted illustrations to the works of his favourite
poets Some of these drawings were praised by Harrison
the editor of the Mvelist's Library, and, Stothard's mast";
having died, he resolved to devote himself to art. In
1 u 8 he became a student of the Royal Academy, of which
he was elected associate in 1791, full academician in 1794
and librarian in 1817. He married before he was thirty •
and it IS recorded that, after attending the weddine
ceremony he spent the afternoon in quietly drawing i^
the schools, and, on leaving, requested a fellow student
to accompany him "to a family party." "Do come," he
said, _ tor 1 have this day taken unto myself a wife " He
died in London on the 27th of April 1834
Among hi3 earliest book Hlustrations are plates engraved for
Os^an and for Bells Poets; and in 1780 he became a reS^Iar con
tributor to the A'ovelist's Library, for which he exeSu cd one
hundred and forgr-eight designs, inchrding his eleven aZ>irab"c
^ ustrations to FcregHne Pickle and his graceful subjectTfrom
?J.TfJ^^, ?LE^f'' ^'^»'^-.- Soon^is hands refullTf
fr.J,f Tl^i.^'H!"" °^ *'"^« °^"'' " '^ me«tioned by many African
travellers ; but the best account of it is that given by Von Ileu^Un
(Om.^ordosl.A/rika's, pp. 1095-1099). In 1860 two Hvin" birds
ZoXgWa'rdts""^^^"' '' ''' ^^'""^"^ ""^ exhibitedV^':
,-„..i, <■„■ II -■""■-» "-ic,™ioi/«. ouuu nis nauas were fu ] of
work, for all cornm.ssions were welcome to him. He couttntcdlv
designed plates for pocket-books, tickets for concerts, iUustratioM
to ahnanacs, portraiU of popular piayei^.-and into even the
slightest and most trivial sketches he infused a grace and d^tinc
tjon which render them of value to the coIlecto1-s of the tescnt
time. Among his more important series are the two sets of illustra.
17381 tfrr^ ^'''"""/'r^ «!« Pl«t^^ to The Pilgrim's Progress
(1802), to Cowpers Poems (1S25), and to Tlic Decameron; whil.
his figure-subjects in the superb editions of Roger's Ilaly (im,
and Poerr^ (1834) prove that even in latest age his fancy w.13 still
unexhausted and his hand hardiy at all enf<Sbled. He^iMt his
best in subjects of a domestic or a gracefuUy ideal sort; the heroic
and the tragic were beyond his powers. The designs by Stothard
have been estimated by Mr Wornum to number fiv^e thousand and
01 these abont three thousand have been engraved. His oil nicturcB
are usually small in size, and rather sketchy in handhn " ^ Their
« f'i?"p^ K °"^"/*9.'' ^"d Slowing, being founded upon°the prac-
tice of Rubens, of whom Stcthard was a great admirer. -He was a
contributor to Boydeirs Shalcsjicare Gaflery. but his best-knoTv^
FrZ^T'l**;' P™^r^i°"<?f the Canterbury Pilgrims the engJavZ
from which, begun by Schiavonetti and finished by Heath, attaine3
tL'^Zrr^T^"'^- J' ^^^^'ollo^^'^'i by a companion work,
the Flitch of Bacon which was dr.-wn in sepia for the oii-Tavcr
but was never earned out in colour. o"""-'.
In addition to his easel pictures. Si-thard adorned the granU
S T 0
8 T O
579
dtjircase of Burleigh House with subjects of War, InteiupGrancc,
-iuil the Dosocut ot Orpheus in Hell {1799-1S03); the mansion 6f
H«fod, North "Wales, with a series of scenes from Froitsart and
Sfonstrelet (ISIO) ; the cupola of the upper hall ol the Advocates'
Library, Edinburfjh (now occupied by the Signet Library), with
Apollo and the Muses, and figures of poets, orators, kc. (1822) ;
and lie prepared designs for a frieze and other decorations lor St
James's Palace. He also designed the magnificent shield pre-
sented to the duke of Wellington by the merchants of London,
and executed with his o«n hand a series of eight etchings from
the various subjects which adorned it.
An interesting, but most indiscriminatfty eulogistic biography of Stotlicrd, by
his daughter-in-law Mrs Bray, was published in 1651.
STOUKBRIDGE, a market-town of Worcestershire,
England, stands on an eminence on the south bank of the
Stour, and on the Great Western Railway, on the borders
of Staffordshire, 4 miles south-west of Dudley and 10
west of Birmingham. A branch canal connects the town
with the Staffordshire and Worcestershire Canal. The
Stonr is crossed by a railway «aduct erected in 1882 at
a cost of £13,835. The town possesses a corn exchange,
a mechanics' institute, an Edward VI. grammar school, a
Government school of art, and a blue-coat or hospital
school. The manufacture of glass was established in
1556 by emigrants from Hungary, the place where they
erected their manufactory being still known as Hungary
Hill Valuable fire-clay is obtained in the neighbourhood,
and a great variety of fine bricks are made. There are also
large iron and leather works. The town was originally
called Bedcote, a name which the manor still retains. The
population of the urban sanitary district (aiea 450 acres)
in 1871 was 9376, and in 1881 it was 9757.
STO'^^S AJTD FIREPLACES are structures of iron
and other materials in which fuel is burned for heating
and ventOating apartments and for cooking food. FoUow-
ing the primitive open hearth, the first separate heating
apparatus used by Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans was
the brazier, an open basin of metal in which charcoal
was consumed. The brazier is still in common use
for industrial' purposes, and in Continental countries it
is widely employed both for cooking and for domestic
heating. The Romans further were acquainted with the
hypocaust, a separate chamber under the floor of the
apartment to be heated (see Baths, vol. iii. p. 434). In
an improved form of hypocaust, flues were provided which
conveyed the heat and products of combustion to the
floors of other apartments at some distance from the fire.
In the remains of Roman villas found in Britain the
hypocaust is an invariable feature. The introduction of
chimneys into houses in the early part of the 14th
century opened the way to all modem improvements in
the heating arrangements of apartments, and the efforts of
inventors have been devoted to the securing of the thorough
combustion of the fuel used, and to the utilization of the
maximum amount of heat therefrom in the most healthful
and agreeable manner. Compare Smoke Abatement.
The stove .or close range, as distinguished from the open fire-
flace, distributes the largest amount of heat from the fuel it burns.
Q its simplest form the common stove consists' of a case of iron,
closed above, with its sole raised from the floor on which it stands.
It has two small openings in one side, one on the level of the fire-
bars for draught, and the other above for supplying fuel ; and on
the opposite side the products of combustion are carried nway by
a flue-pipe passing into a chimney. In a more c'ompleic form tlio
height of the case or body is iucreascd, and a scries of horizontal
flucM or spaces are formed inside, through which the heated nir and
smoke pass, thus extracting more thoroughly the heat before it
enters the chimney, and giving a greatly increased heating surface.
Such stoves overdry the air in rooms, and, when they are ortonially
heated to a high degree, floating particles are burned by falling on
their surfaces, whence arises tho disagreeable stuffy smell almost
inseparable from their use. To mitigate this ovil of overheating,
linings of tiloe, firebricks, and other non-conducting materials are
with great advantage introduced between the heated iron and the
air of the apartment. In ventilating stoves tho outside casing of
iron is entirely protected from tho direct action of iiru by a lining
of firebrick. The inside is divided into several spaces or flues, and
air dr.awii from without enters by a separate flue, and passing
through those spaces is heated and delivered into tho apartment as
a warm current. In another class, of which the gill stove is the
typo, there radiates from the fire-case a range of flanges or gills a
few inches apart, which conduct the heat outwards and enormously
extend the heating surface, counteracting at the same time the
tendency to overheating. Cooking stoves or ranges havo in their
ccutro a fire space covered above with a removable top-plate, in
which aie circular openings whereby the cooking vessels can be
brought into direct contact with the fire. At both sides there are
one or more compartments which form ovens, and around these the
heat from the fire is carried by flues ; or at one side a water boiler
may be placed, although generally a high-pressure boiler occupies
a space immediately behind the fire. The flues which pass around
all these spaces, and that also leading directly to the chimney, are
controlled by dampers, so that the heat can bo directed along any
desired course.
Both as a heating and cooking agent coal gas is now being
largely used, and many forms of stoves have been devised to meet
its peculiar conditions as a gaseous fuel. . Gas stoves present the
obvious advantages of cleanliness, compaiative freedom from
smoke, and immediate readiness for use ; and the flame and beat
are under the most perfect control. Gas is used in open fireplaces
as well as in stoves, a most efficient open heating arrangement
being that devised by the late Sir Chas. W. Siemens, in which a
combined fire of charcoal and coal gas is made. Small lamp stoves
for burning mineral oils arc also in use ; but they share the serious
disadvantage of certain simple gas stoves, from which the whole pro-'
ducts of combustion pass into the room in which they are placed.
Fireplaces are entirely open in front ; they radiate heat into the
apartment; and flame, smoke, &c., pass direct into the chiirney.'
The rapid passage of the heated air into the chimney carries away
a large proportion of the heat, and this loss is particularly great in]
grates made entirely of iron. In modem grates of good qujiLity the,
sides and back of the fire-basket are of fire-brick, which retains andi
throws out much heat. In slow-combustion grates the fire-basket
is set low on the hearth, and air is admitted to the fuel only
through the fire-bars in front. The back of the grate slopes in
towards the hearth, where the fire space is comparatively narrow.'
By means of a door sliding down over the front from the upper
part of the grate, the indraught of air can be modified at JDleasure.'
In ventilating fireplaces the fire-basket is of iron lined with fire-
brick, and in the space bstwien the back of the grate and tho wall
flues are formed which are heated from the fire. Into thsse fluea
air from without is introduced, which, after being there wanned,
passes into the apartment at suitable openings.
STOW, John (1525-1605), historian and antiquary,"
was the son of Thomas Stow, a tailor, and was born in
London, in the parish of St Michael, Cornhill, in 1526.
His parents do not appear to have been rich, for bis father's
whole rent for his house and garden was- only 6s. 6d. a
year, and Stow himself in his youth went every morning
to fetch the milk for the family from a farm belonging to
the nunnery of Jlinories. He learned the trade of his.
father, but possibly did not practise it much after he grew
up to manhood. In 1549 he " kept house " near the well
within Aldgate, but afterwards ho removed to Lime Street
ward, where ho resided till his death. His first jiublication
was A Summary of Englische Chronicles in 1561, which
was frequently reprinted, mth slight variations, during hia
lifetime. Of the first edition a copy was said to have
been at one time in the Grenville library. In the British
Museum there are at present copies of the editions of
1567, 1573, 1587, 1590, 1598, and 1604. Stow having
in his dedication of 1567 referred to tho rival publication
of Richard Grafton in cont^emptuous terms, tho dispute
between them became extremely embittered. Stew's anti-
quarian tastes brought him under ecclesiastical suspicion
as a person " with many dangerous and superstitious books
in his possession," and in 1568 Grindal, bishop of London,'
caused his study to bo searched. Au inventory was token
of certain books he possessed " in defence of Papistry," but
ho was apparently able to satisfy his inten-ogatora of tho
soundness of his Protestantism. ■ A second attorSpt to
incriminate him in 1570 wae also without result. In 1580
Stow; published his Annales, or a Oaierale Chronicle oj
England from Brute until the present yeare of Chrift J6S0;
it was reprinted in 1592, 1601, and 1605, the last being
continued to tho 26th March 1605, or within ten days of
580
S T O — S T R
his death ; editions " amended" by Howes appeared in
1615 and 1631. The work by which Stow is best known
is his Survey of London, published in 1598, not only
'interesting from the quaint simplicity of its style and its
amusing descriptions and anecdotes, but of unique value
from its minute account of the buildings, social condition,
and customs of London in the time of Elizabeth. A second
edition appeared iu his lifetime in 1603, a third with addi-
tions by Anthony Munday in 1618, a fourth by Munday
and Dyson in 1633, a fifth with interpolated amendments
by Strype in 1720, and a sixth by the same editor in 1754.
The edition of 1598 was reprinted, edited by W. J. Thorns,
in 1842, in 1846, and with illustrations in 1876. • Through
the patronage of Archbishop Parker Stow was enabled to
print the Flores Uistoriarum of Matthew of Westminster
in 1567, the Chronicle of Matthew Paris in 1571, and the
Eisforia Breiis of Thomas Walsingham in 1574. At the
request of Parker he had himself compUed a " farre larger
Tolume," but circumstances were unfavourable to its publi-
cation and the manuscript is now lost. Additions to the
previously published works of Chancer were twice made
through Stow's " own painful labours " in editions of 1561
and 1 597. A number of Stow's manuscripts are in the Har-
leian collection in the British Museum. Some are in the
Lambeth Library (No. 306) ; and from the volume which
includes them were published by the Camden Society,
edited by James Gairdner, Three Fifteenth-Centvr^y Chron-
icles, mth Historical Memoranda hy John Stowe the Anti-
quary, and Contemporary Notes of Occurrences utritten by
htm (1880). Stow's literary labours did not prove very
remunerative, but he accepted poverty in a cheerful spirit.
Ben Jonson relates that once when walking with him Stow
jocularly asked two mendicant cripples " what they would
have to take him to their order." This favour he, however,
ojbtained from King James, who in March 1604 authorized
him and his deputies to collect " amongst our loving sub-'
jects their voluntary contributions and kind gratuities,"
and himself began " the largesse for the example of others."
If the royal appeal was successful Stow did not live long
to enjoy the increased comfort resulting from it, as he died
on the 6th April following. He was buried in the church
of St Andrew Undershaft, where the monument erected
by his widow, exhibiting a terra-cotta figure of him, still
remains.
STOWELL, WnxiAM Scott, Baron (1745-1836), one
of the ablest and most accomplished of English judges,
especially in international law, was born at Heworth, a
village about four miles from Newcastle, on 17th Octo-
ber 1745. His father was a "coalfitter" (or tradesman
engaged in the transport of coal); his mother was the
daughter of a small tradesman, Atkinson by name; his
younger brother John became the famous Lord Chancel-
lor Eldon (q.v.). Scott was educated at the Newcastle
grammar school under the able tuition of the Rev. Hugh
Moises. In February 1761 he gained a Durham scholar-
ship at Corpus Christi (JoUege, Oxford, and was imme-
diately admitted as a student of the university. In 1764
lie graduated as bachelor of arts, and became first a pro-
bationary fellow and then — as successor to "William (after-
wards the well-known Sir William) Jones — a tutor of
University College. In 1767 he took his M.A. degree. In
1772 he graduated as bachelor of civil law. As Camden
reader of ancient history he rivalled the reputation of Black-
stone (1774). Although he had joined the Middle Temple
in 176(2 (June 24), it was not till 1776 that Scott devoted
himself to a systematic study of law. In 1779 (June
23) he graduated as doctor of civil law, and, after the
customary "year of silence," commenced practice in the
ecclesiastical courts. His professional success was rapid.
In 1783 he became registrar of the Court of Faculties, and
in 1788 judge of the Consistory Court and advocate-'
general, in that year too receiving the honour of knight-
hood; and in 1798 he was made judge of the High Court of
Admiralty. Sir William Scott twice contested the repre-
sentation of Oxford university, — in 1780 without success,
but successfully in 1801. He also sat for Dowriton in
1790. Upon the coronation of George TV. (1821) he was
raised to the peerage as Baron Stowell. After a life of
distinguished judicial service Lord Stowell retired froni
the bench, — from the Consistory Court in August 1821,
and from the High Court of Admiralty in December
1827. His mental faculties became gradually feebler in
his old age, and he died on January 28, 1836. Lord
Stowell was twice married, — on April 7, 1781, to Anna
Maria, eldest daughter and heiress of John Bagnall of
Early Court, Berks, and on April 10, 1813, to the dowager
marchioness of Sligo. By his first marriage he had four
children, of whom two (a son and a daughter) died io
infancy, a third (a son) died unmarried in middle life,
while the eldest (a daughter) was twice' married and sur
vived her father.
Lord Stowell's judgments are models alike of literary execution
and of judicial reasoning. His style is chaste yet not inornate,
nervous without abruptness, and perfectly adjusted in every instance
to the subject with which he deals. His decisions in the cases of
Dalrymple v. Dalrymple (Dr Dodson's Bepori) and Evans v. Evans
(1 Hagg., 35) — from their combined force and grace, from the'
steadiness with which every collateral issue is set aside, from their'
subtle insight into human motives, and from the light which they
cast on the philosophy and dark history of marriage law — deserve
and will repay attentive perusal. Lord Stowell composed with
great care, and some of the MSS. which he revised for Haggard
and Phillimore's Reports were as full of interlineations as a bill
of the. Lower House corrected by the Lords. Stowell's mind was
judicial rather than forensic, — reasoning, not as for a dialectic
victory nor so as to convince the parties on whoso suit he was
deciding, but only with sufficient clearness, fulness, and force to
justify the decision at which he had arrived.
The chief doctrines of international law with the assertion and
illustration of which the name of Lord Stowell is identified are
these : — the perfect equality and entire independence of all states
(Le Louis, 2 Dod., 243) — a logical deduction , from the Augtinian
philosophy and still one of the fundamental principles of English
jurisprudence ; that the elementai-y rules of international law bind
even semi-barbarous states (Hurtige Hans, 2 Rob., 325) ; that
blockade to be binding must be effectual (The " Betsey," 1 Eob., 93);
that there cannot be a legal where there is no actual blockade ; and
that contraband of war is to be determined by " probable destina-
tion" (The "Jonge Margaretha," 1 Rob., 189). In the famous
Swedish convoy case (The "Maria," 1 Rob., 350; see too The
"Recovery," 6 C. Rob., 348-9) Lord Stowell, in defiance of the
complaintsof those greedy merchants who, as Pufendorf, himself by
choice a Swedish civilian, tells us, cared not how things went pro-
vided they could but satisfy their thirst of gain, asserted that " a
prize court is a court not merely of the country in which it sits
but of the law of nations." " The scat of judicial authority," he
added, in words which have become classic, ' ' is indeed locally here,
in the belligerent country, but the law itself has no locality."
The judgments of Lord Stowell were, almost without exception,
confirmed on appeal, are to this day the international law of
England, and have become presumptive though not conclusive
evidence of the international law of America. " I have taken care, "
wrote Justice Story, " that they shall form the basis of the maritime
law of the United States, and I have no hesitation in saying that
they ought to do so in that of every civilized country in the world."
See Townsend, Lives of Twelve Eminent Judges, vol. ii.; Quarterly Reviea,
vol. Ixiv.; W. E. Sartces, Skeuh of Lords Stoicell and Eldon ; Creasy, First
Platform of International Law; Decisions, by Dodson and Haggard.
STRABISMUS. See Ophthaimology, vol. xvii. p. 785.
STRABO, the famous geographer and historian, was
born at Amasea in Pontns, a city which had been HeOenized
to a great extent. , Of his father's family we know nothing ;
but several of his mother's relations, who were probably
Greeks, had held important posts under Mithradates Euer-
getes and his famous son Mithradates Eupator. Dorylaus,
a distinguished general of Mithradates Euergetes, was the
great-grandfather of Strabo's mother. After the murder
of that king, Dorylaus, who at that time was collecting
mercenaries in Crete, where he had obtained the command
b '1 li A B u
581
in a successful war of the Cnossians against Gortyn, settled
at Cnossus. By Sterope, a Macedonian, he had a daughter
and two sons, — Lagetas and Stratarchus. Dorylaus had a
brother Philetaerus, whose son Dorylaus was brought up
with Mithradates Eupator. This king, at the instance of
his friend invited back to Pontus the family of Dorylaus,
who was himself now dead, as was also his son Lagetas.
Strabo saw Stratarchus in extreme old age. The daughter
of Lagetas was the mother of Strabo's mother. Moaphernes,
an uncle of Strabo's mother, probably on the father's side,
was governor of Colchis under Mithradates Eupator. His
mother's father must have held an important position, for,
seeing the impending downfall of the king, and also in
anger against him for having put to death his kinsmen
Tibius and Theophilus, he handed over fifteen forts to
LucuUus. In spite of this, with the'ruin of the king the
fortunes of the family fell, since Pompey refused to ratify
the rewards promised by LucuUus.
Life. — Though the exact date of Strabo's birth i-f
unknown, a close approximation is possible. Clinton
f)laces it not later than 54 B.C. The most probable date
ies between 64 and 62, since he speaks of certain events
occurring at the former as "a little before my time,"
whilst he describes an occurrence in the latter year as " in
my own time," phrases which he uses elsewhere with great
exactness in speaking of persons and events. He received
a good education in the Greek poets, especially Homer ;
he studied at Nysa under the grammarian Aristodemus,
under Tyrannio the grammarian at Rome, under the
philosopher Xenarchus either at Kome or Alexandria, and
he had studied Aristotle along with Boethus (possibly at
Rome under Tyrannio, who had access to the Aristotelian
writings in Sulla's library). It is to be noted that from
none of those teachers was he likely to learn mathematics
or astronomy. He was at Corinth in 29 B.C., where he
saw Octavian on his return from Egypt to celebrate his
triumph for Actium. He was in Egypt in 24 B.C., and
took the opportunity of ascending the Nile in company
with the prefect yElius Gallus. He was at Rome after 14
A.D., for he describes (v. 236) as an eyewitness the place
■where the body of Augustus was burnt in the Campus.
He was still writing in 21 a.d. The date of his death is
unknown. Strabo's statement that he saw P. Servilius
Isauricus has caused some difficulty. This Servilius died
at Rome in 44 B.C. at an advanced age. Some suppose
that Strabo confused him with P. Servilius Casca, also
called Isauricus, or some other distinguished Roman
whom he had seen in Asia, but by his words he clearly
means the conqueror of the Isaurians. This difficulty
only arises from an entirely unwarranted assumption that
Strabo was on his way to Rome for the first time in 29
B.C. We have seen that he studied under Tyrannio in
that city; if he did so after 29 B.C. Tyrannio must have
been very old, which Strabo would probably have men-
tioned, as he does in the case of Aristodemus. Although
he had seen a comparatively small portion- of the regions
which ho describes, ho had travelled much, as ho states
himself : " Westward I have journeyed to the parts of
Etruria opposite Sardinia ; towards the south from the
Euxine to the borders of Ethiopia ; and perhaps not one
of those who -have written geographies has visited more
places than I have between those limits. For those who
have gone farther west have not gone so far eastward,
and the case is the same with the regions between the
northern and southern limits." The fulness of his descrip-
tion in certain places, contrasted with the meagreness and
inaccuracy in others, seems to indicate that in the former
cases he had actually visited the places, but that ho is
dependent on second-hand information for tho latter. Ho
tells us that be bad seen Egypt as far south aa Syene
and Philse, Comana in Cappadocia, Ephesus, Myla.sa, Nysa
and Hierapolis in Phrygia, Gyarus, and Pppulonia. Of
Greece proper he saw but little ; he visited Corinth,
Athens, Megara, and places in theii' vicinity, and perhaps
Argos, although he was not aware that the ruins of
Mycenae still existed ; he had seen Cj'rene from the sea,
probably on his voyage from Puteoli to Alexandria. He
remained at the latter place a long time, probably amassing
materials, and studying astronomy and mathematics. For
nowhere could he have had a better means of consulting
the works of historians, geographers, and astronomers, such
as Eratosthenes, Posidonius, Hipparchus, aivi Apollodorus.
When and where he went from Egypt we know not. It
has been commonly assumed that he returned home to
Amasea. For this there are no grounds. Probabilities
are in favour of his having returned to Rome, where be
undoubtedly resided in his old age. The. place of his
death is unknown; but, since we find him at Rome in what
inust in the course of nature have been the closing years'
of his life, it is not unreasonable to suppose that there he'
died. Various passages in his work indicate that he held I
by the Stoic rule.
Works. — His earliest writings were two (not one, as
commonly stated) historical works now lost, which he
himself describes (xi. 515) as his Historical Memoirs and
his Continuation of Polybius. There can be no doubt but'
that these were two distinct works; for he speaks (ii. 70)'
of having treated of the exploits of Alexander in his
Memoirs, a topic which could not have found a place in
a work which began where that -of Polybius ended (146
B.C.). According to Suidas, the continuation of Polybius
was in forty-three books. Plutarch, who calls him " the
Philosopher," quotes Strabo's Memoirs (Luc, 28), and cites
him as an historian (Sulla, 26). Josephus, who constantly
calls him " the Cappadocian," often quotes from ^lim, but
does not mention the title of the work.
The Geography is the most important work on that
science which antiquity has left us. It was, as far as we
know, the first attempt to collect all the geographical
knowledge at the time attainable, and to compose a general
treatise on geography. It must not be regarded as nothing
more than a new edition of Eratosthenes. In general
outline it follows necessarily the work of the last-named
geographer, who had first laid down a scientific basis for
geography on which his successors could not help building.
Strabo made considerable alterations, but not always for
the better. The three books of the older work formed a
strictly technical geographical treatise. Its small size
prevented it from containing any such general description
of separate countries as Strabo rightly conseived to fall
within tho scope of the geographer. " Strabo indeed
appears to be the first who conceived a complete geo-
graphical treatise as comprising the four divisions of
mathematical, physical, political, and historical geography,
and he endeavoured, however imperfectly, to keep all
these objects in view." .Moreover, the incidental historical
notices, which are often of great value and interest, are all
his own. These digressions at times interrupt the sym-
metry of his plan ; but Strabo had all tho Greek love of
legendary lore, and he discusses questions relating to the
journeyings of Heracles as earnestly as if they were events
within recent history. He regarded Homer as tho source
of all wisdom and knowledge, and consequently accepted
the Homeric geography in its entirety, as needing only
proper explanation for the removal of all difficulties. On
tho other hand, he treats the work of Herodotus with
undeserved contempt, and classes him with Ctcsias and
other "marvel-mongers"; and yet in some respects
Herodotus had better information — for instance, in regard
to the Caspian— than that possessed by Strabo himaetfj
582
S T R A B C/
Again, Strabo may be censured for discarding the state-
ments of Pytheas respecting the west and north of Europe,
accepted as they had been by Eratosthenes. But in this
he relied on Polybius, whom Tie might justly consider as
having from his position at Rome far better means of
gaining accurate information about those regions. A
critical. sagacity far stronger than that of Strabo might
well have erred at a time when the data for forming
accurate judgments on such questions were so meagre
and chaotic. It- must be admitted that the statements of
Pytheas did not accord with the theory of Strabo just in
those very points where he was at variance with' Erato-
sthenes. He showed likewise an unwarranted scepticism
in reference to the island of Cerne on the west coast of
Africa, which without doubt the Carthaginians had long
used as an emporium. Strabo has beeu censured for not
making a greater use of Roman authorities. Although
the Roman arms had opened up much of the north and
west, he follows the Greek writers almost exclusively in
his description of Spain, Gaul, Britain, Germany, and even
Italy. For, although he refers to Caesar's Commentaries
once by name, and has evidently made use of them in
other passages, he but imperfectly availed himself of that
work. He designed his geography as a sequel to his his-
torical writings, and it had as it were grown out of his
historical materials. Such materials were chiefly Greek.
We cannot wonder if a man who at an advanced age has
commenced a new work utilizes his old material, and has
not the energy to undertake fresh researches. Again, if
Strabo amassed his material in the library of Alexandria,
Greek authorities would naturally furnish the great bulk
of his collections. This involves the questions — When and
where did he compose the work 1 He began it probably
later than 9 b.c. For he says that, just as Alexander had
opened up knowledge of the East, so the Roman arms had
now opened up the geography of the West as far as the
Elbe. This Drusus accomplished in 9 b.c. Strabo was
still engaged on the work, or certain parts of it, in 19 a.d.,
for he mentions in the fourth book the conquest of the
TaTirisci as having taken place thirty-three years before ;
he also speaks, in the sixth book, of Germanicus, who died
in 20 A.D., as Ltill alive, and in the seventeenth book he
speaks of the death of Juba U. (21 a.d.) as a recent event.
As it i" not probable that he wrote for the first time all of
his work except the first three books between 19 and 21
A.D., We must not make use of these passages as data for
determining the date of composition of the whole work, or
even of particular books, but rather ought we to regard
them as insertions. Strabo, as already pointed out, was at
Rome after the death of Augustus (14 a.d.) ; in book vii.
290 and in book xiii. 609 he uses the terms "here " and
" hither " in reference to Rome. It may be inferred from
these passages that Strabo certainly revised, if he did not
write, the entire work at Rome. If he returned to Rome
after a long sojourn in Alexandria, this explains the de-
fectiveness of his information about the countries to the
east of his native land, and renders it possible for him to
have made use of the chorography of Agrippa, and to have
obtained the few incidents from Roman sources which here
and there appear in his work.
He designed the work for the statesman rather than for
the student. He therefore endeavours to give a general
sketch of the character, physical peculiarities, and natural
productions of ea«h country, and consequently gives ns
much valuable information respecting ethnology, trade,
and metallurgy. It was almost necessaty that in such an
attempt be should select what he thought most important
for description, and at times omit what we deem of more
importance. With resjject to physical geography, his
work IS a great advanc on all preceding ones. Judged
by modern standards, bia description of the direction of
rivers and mountain-chains seems defective, but allowance
must be made for difficulties in procuring information,
and for want of accurate instruments. In respect of
mathematical geography, his want of high scientific train-
ing was of no great hindrance. He had before him the
results of Eratosthenes, Hipparchus, and Posidonius. The
chief conclusions of astronomers concerning the spherical
figure and dimensions of the earth, its relation to the
heavenly bodies, and the . great circles of the globe — the
equator, the ecliptic, and the tropics — were considered, as
well established. He accepted also the division into five
zones ; he quotes approvingly the assertion of Hipparchus
that it was impossible to make real advances in geography
without astronomical observations for determining lati-
tudes and longitudes.
The work consists of seventeen boobs, of which the seventh is
imperfect. The first two books form a general introduction ; the
next ten deal with Europe, the four following with Asia, and the
last with Africa. The first two books are meant to comprise a
general survey of the progress of geography from the earliest times
down to his own day. Unmethodical though they are, we owe to
these books almost all we know of the geographical systems of his
predecessors, especially that of Eratosthenes. Unfortunately he con-
tents himself with disjointed criticism of detail instead of giving
us an orderly statement of the previous systems. The first book
begins 'with his claim to have geography regarded as a branch of
philosophy, and he supports this claim "by enumerating the philo-
sophers who have studied it, beginning from Homer, as proofs of
whose knowledge he adduces his acquaintance with the Ocean, the
Ethiopians, and the Scythians. This discussion of Homer's geogra-
phy takes up more than half the book. Passing over the early geo-
graphers, not even mentioning Herodotus, he censures Eratosthenes
for using imreliable authorities, and for casting doubts on th'e
voyages of Jason and other early navigators. He next criticizes-
the physical views of Eratosthenes Concerning the changes in the
earth's surface, and especially the hypothesis, adopted from Strato,
that by sudden disruptions of land the Eu.\ine and Mediterranean
had become united to the ocean, and had sunk to their present level,
which theory they supported by pointing to sea shells at places
high above the sea. This doctrine Strabo rightly rejected, and
referred such phenomena to those changes which with constant
operation produce subsidences and elevations of the land ; and he
quotes many instances of places engulfed by earthquakes; the
disappearance of some islands, and the appearing of others.
Hence .he thinks it possible that even Sicily has been thrown up
by the fires of Etna. Sir C. Lyell eulogizes Strabo's geologiciu
speculations for a soundness of view very unusual on such subjects
amongst the ancients. E.^amining the second book of Eratosthenes,
he discusses the length and breadth of the inhabited world, and
its division into three continents. He blames Eratosthenes foi
believing Pytheas, and denies the existence of Thule, consequently
rejecting the latitude assigned to it by Eratosthenes, . who had
taken it as the northernmost limit of the inhabited world. Strabo
holds feme (Ireland), which lies north of Britain, to be the
farthest land in that direction, and brings the northern limit much
farther south. As he adopts Eratosthenes's southern limit. — that
through the Cinnamon Kegion and Taprobane (Ceylon), — it follows
■that in his view Eratosthenes had made the inhabited world too
broad. As the Greeks assumed that the world was twice as long
as it was broad, Eratosthenes accordingly had made it too long
likewise ; but, though Strabo shortens it on the west, there is no
material difference between him and Eratosthenes. In this con-
nexion he gives his remarkable speculation that, as the inhabite'?
world was only one-third of the globe's circumference, there might
be two or more inhabited worlds besides. In the second book he
discusses the changes introduced by Eratosthenes, and rightly
defends him from the attacks of Hipparchus. He adopts for Asij
the map of Eratosthenes as a whole, for little additional knowledge
had been gained in the interval. He even still regards the Caspian
as opening into the Northern Ocean, as stated by Patrocles. In the
general outline of Africa he makes no change, but he rejects the
statement of Eratosthenes about Cerne. It is with respect to
western- and northern Europe that Strabo had knowledge denied
to Eratosthenes. Koman conquest had opened up many places
and peoples, yet his general map of Europe is inferior to that of
his predecessor. After discussing the " seals " of Eratosthenes, he
considers the views of Posidonius and Polybius, and recounts the
voyages of Eudorus of Cyzicus. Then having dealt with the
division into zones, due to Parmenides, he states his -own views,
discussing briefly the mathematical geography : the earth is
spherical and placed in the centre of the universe ; he assumes five
zones, and the circles on the sphere — the equator, the ecliptic or
S T R — S T E
583
r;
Eodiac, tlio tropics, and the arctic circles ; he assumes the earth's
rircumfercnce as given by Eratosthenes, 232,000 staJes ( = 25,200
geogiaphical miles), and his division of the great circle into sixtieth
larts; the habitable world, the geographer's proper province, shiipcd
ike a clilamys, occupies a quadrilateral space in the northern hemi-
iphere, filling little more than one-third of the north temperate zone;
its maximum length is 70,000 stades, its brcaJth less than 30,000
stades. Whilst correcting the error by wliich his predecessors
placed Massilia and Byzantium in the same latitude, he falls into
au equal mistake by placing the former city two degrees south,
instead of two degrees north of Byzantium. As Massilia is his
cardinal point for measurements, this error distorts his whole map
of the Mediterranean and western Europe, the mouths of the
Rhine and Danube being in the same latitude. He next gives
directions for making a plane map of the world, as a globe of
suflicient size, like that of Crates, is too cumbrous. All lines that
t.n circles on a globe must be straight lines on the map. Before
desci'ibing each country in detail, he gives a general sketch of the
habitable world with reference to seas, continents, and peoples,
•nd explains the doctrine of climate and of the shadows projected
by objects in consequence of the sun's varying position with respect
ito them. In the third book, starting from the Straits, he begins
Ills description with Iberia, which he likens in shape to a bnll's
liiile. His chief authorities were Artemidorus, whom he uses for
tUe coasts of the Mediterranean and ocean generally, Eratosthenes,
Posidouius, Polybius, Phcrecydes, Timosthenes, , Asclepiades,
Myrleanus, and Dicaarchus. He gives a valuable account of the
Roman administrative sj'stem, probably gained from his own
inquiries, also of the native tribes, of the mines and methods of
mining, and of the remains of the Greek tnd Phoenician settle-
ments ; he describes the Balearic Isles, following Artemidorus, and
at the end of the book mentions the Cassiterides, which he seems
to have identified with the Scilly Isles, probably erroneously,
and describes their inhabitants as wearing long black garments,
and walking about with long wands in their hands, looking
like the Furies of tragedy. It is rem.arkable that he has no
notion of the proximity of the Tin Islands to Britain, but
treats them in connexion with Spain. The fourth book deals
with Gaul in its fourfold division under Augustas, gives a meagre
account of Britaiu, its trade and relations with Rome, and mentions
Ireland, the natives of which were said to be cannibals and to hold
their women in common, and finally treats of the Alps. His
authorities were Posidonius, who had travelled in Gaul and
Britain, Artemidorus, Ephorus, Timagenes, Aristotle, Polybius,
Asinius PoUio, .and Cssar. For Britain Pytheas, as quoted by
others, furnished some important details. His description of
Gallia Narbonensis is fuller than that of the rest of Gaul. He
mentions the four great Koman roads converging at Lyons, prob-
ably following the chorography of Agrippa. He conceives the
Pyrenees as running north and south, and parallel to the Rhine,
and Britain as lying north of Gaul, extending from the Pyrenees to
the Rhine's mouths. Of the Alpine region he gives an excellent
description. Ho undoubtedly must have gathered much informa-
tion for this book at Rome. The fifth and sixth books contain an
accurate description of Italy and the adjacent islands. Besides
his own observation he used Eratosthenes, Polybius, Artemidorus,
Ephorus, Fabius Pictor, Ccelius, Antiochus of Syracuse for south-
ern Italy, and the "chorographer," who was certainly a Roman,
as he gave his distances in miles, and who probably was Agrippa,
the chief objection to such an authorship being the wrong assump-
tion that Strabo was not in Italy after 24 B.C., whilst Agrippa's
work was not published until after his death 12 B.O. The sixth
book ends with a short but valuable sketch of the extent and con-
dition of the Roman empire. The seventh comprises northern and
eastern Europe, both north and sonth of the Danube, Illyricum,
Pannonia, Dalmatia, the coast of Thrace and the Euxine, and
Epirns. The part which dealt with Macedonia and Thrace is only
known to us from the ci)itomes. We do not know his authorities
for the German tribes, but he probably used Roman mp.terials.
For the other northern tribes ho had Posidonius, whilst for the
region south of the Danube ho had Aristotle's lost work on Polities,
Polybius, Posidonius, Theopompus, and Ephorus. The eighth,
ninth, and tenth books contain his description of the mainland of
Greece and the islands, which he treats rather as an antiquariau
than a geographer, using chiefly, besides Homer, Apollodorus,
Demetrius of Scepsis, Ephorus, and Eudoxus. Personally ho had
but little knowledge. With the eleventh begins Asia. Divided
from Europe by the Don, it is split up into two large masses by
the Taurus. Beginning with the region bounded by the Taurus,
Caspian, and Euxine, he next describes the part east of the Caspian,
then those south of tho Caucasus, Media, and Armenia. His
authorities are Artemidorus, Eratostbeues, Theophanes, Herodotus,
Apollodorus of Artemita, Patroclus, Metrodorus of Scepsis,
Hypsicraies of Amisus, Posidonius, and Aristobulus. In tho
twelfth he describes Asia Minor, basing his description on oral
iriormation, personal observation, and tlio Grcik. writers. In the
tliirteei^ be contiouea with Asia Minor, devoting much snace to
the Troad, his sources being Demetrius, Menecrates, ana the
Greek mythographers. With the fourteenth he ends Asia Minor
and the islands lying off it, using, in addition to the authorities
for the last, Pherecyues, Thucydides, Anaximenes of lompeacus,
Herodotus, Ephorus, Artemidorus, Eratosthenes, and Pooloonius.
Tho fifteenth deals with India and Persia, giving much valuable
information from Patrocles, Aristobulns, Uearchus, the historians
of the campaigns of Alexander and Seleucus, and with reserve
from Megasthenes, Onesicntus, Deimachus, and Clitarchus. In the
sixteenth he treats of Assyria, under which he includes Babylonia
aud Mesopotamia, Syria, Phcenicia, Palestine, the Persian Gulf,
the Red Sea and the coast of Ethiopia, and Arabia. For Asia he
used the historians of Alexander, Eratosthenes and Herodotus;
for Judaea and Syria probably Posidouius, himself a native of
Apamea; for Arabia and the coast of Libya Eratosthenes and
Artemidorus, the latter of ivhora followed Agatharchidcs of Cnidub.
Strabo must have 'got many details about Arabia from ^Elius
Gallus and the Sioic Athenodorus. The last book comprises
Egypt, Ethiopia, and the north coast of Libya, He describes
Egypt from his own observation, having gained much information
at Alexandria in addition to that of Eudoxus, Aiisto, Eratosthenes,
Polybius, aud Posidonius, using the last three with the addition
of Iphicrates for Libya, and for Ethiopia Potronius, Herodotus,
and Agatharchides. Though probably acquainted with the work
of Juba, he did not make much use of it. The book concludes
with a summary of the provinces of the Roman empire, as organize^
by Augustus into senatorial and imperial.
Editions. — Aldus, Venice, 1316; Hopper and Hcresbach, Basel, 1549; Xylander,
Basel, lo7l ; Casaubon, Geneva, 1587, Paris, 1G20 (Casaubon revised the text) ;
Almeloveen, Amsterdam, 1707, reprinted Casaubon's text ; Falconer, Oxford,
1807, repiinted Almeloveen'8 text; Siebeiikees and Tzschucke, Leipslc ISlli;
Koiaj', Pans, 181a-l8, the fiiat really critical edition; Kramei', Betlin, 1844-52;
C. iluUer, Paris, 1853; Jleineke, Leipsic, 1S77. TEA>;aLATioNs. — LaUf. Gnarin'
and Gregorio. 1471; Xylander, 1571. French: Koray and Letronnc 1805-19.
German ; Groskurd, 1853 (with dissertations). Ualinn : Ambrosoll, 1S28. Dl8"
aERTATioNs, isc. — Bunbury, .4ncicvi( Oeography; Heercn ; Hasenmiillei* ; Niese,
tlsinui, 1B78. (W. EI.)
STRADELLA, Alessaitdro, composer, singer, and
performer on various instruments, was one of the most
accomplislied Italian musicians of the 17th centur3%
The generally accepted statement that he was born at
Naples about 1645 rests upon- no trustworthy founda^
tion ; and the few biographical notices that wo possess
savour so strongly of romance that we can only be said'
to know him truly through his works, which shovi- extra-
ordinary genius, and have exercised a highly beneficial
influence upon Italian art. The story of his life was first
circumstantially narrated in Bonnet-Bourdelot's Ilisloire
de la Mnsiqve et de ses EjfeU (Paris, 1715). According to
this account, Stradella not only produced some successful
operas at Venice, but also attained so great a reputation
by the beauty of his -voice that a Venetian nobleman
engaged him to instruct his mistress, Ortensia, in singing.
Stradella, the narrative goes on to say, shamefully betrayed
his trust, and eloped with Ortensia to Rome, whither the
outraged Venetian sent two paid bravi to put him to death.
On their arrival in Rome the assassins learned that Stradella
had just -completed a new oratorio, over tho performance of
which he was to preside on the following day at S. Giovanni
in Latcrano. Taking advantage of this circumstance, they
determined to kill him as he left the church ; but the beauty
of the music affected them so deeply that their hearts failed
them at the critical moment, and, confessing their treachery,
they entreated tho composer to ensure his safety by quitting
Rome immediately. Thereupon Stradella fled with Orten-
sia to Turin, where, notwithstanding the favour shown to
him by the regent of Savoy, he was attacked one night
by another band of assassins, who, headed by Ortensia's
father, left him on the ramparts for dead. Through the
connivance of tho French ambassador the ruffians suc-
ceeded in making thoir escape; and in the nicantime
Stradella, recovering from his wound.s, married Ortensia,
by con.sent of the regent, and removed with her to Genoa.
Hero ho believed himself safe ; but a year later he and
Ortensia were murdered in their house by a third party
of assassins in the pay of the implacable Venetian.
Bonnet-Bourdclot gives 1670 as tho dnto at which tho as-'*.ssina.
tion actually took place ; but the oratorio San Giovanni BaUtHa,
assumed to bo that which Bavo<' its author's life, is dated "Koipa.
T84
S T R — S T Rs
1676"; and a cantata, called 77 Barcheggio, is known to have been
composed by Stradella for the marriage of Carlo Spinola and
Paola Brignolo in 1681. TJiese discrepancies are not, however,
of suiBcient moment to. justify the rejection of Bonnet-Bourdelot's
account, which has been accepted as genuine by Burney, Hawkins,
Fetis, and many other careful writers, including the remarkably
accurate and conscientious Wanley.' And it must be remembered,
in its defence, that Pierre Bourdelot, by whom the materials for
the Histoire dt la Musique el de ses Effets were originally compiled,
was an actual contemporary of Stradella, and died as early is 1685,
when a host of the composer's friends must still have been living,
and able to give evidence on the subject of his fate. It seems there-
fore only reasonable to assume that the main facts of the narrative
are correctly given, though the dates may need confirmation;
while for the embroidered versions of later writers the authors of
the Histoire are certainly /not responsible.
The finest collection of Stradella's works extant is that at the
Biblioteca Palatina at Modena, which contains 148 MSS., includ-
ing eleven operas and six oratorios. A collection of canii a voce
sola was bequeathed by the Contarini family to the library of St
Mark at Venice ; and some MSS. are also preserved at Naples and
in Paris. Eight madrigals, three duets, and a sonata for two
violins and bass will be found among the Additional^ MSS. at the
British Museum, five pieces among the Harleian MSS., ^and eight
cantatas and a motet among those in the library at Christ,Church,
Oxford. Very few of these compositions have been published ; but
an extremely beautiful aria di chicsa, entitled Pietd SigAore,' has
been frequently printed, under the name of Stradella, and popularly
accepted as the air which produced so marvellous an effect upon
the assassins. The piece, however, i? not to be found in San
Giovanni Battista; and its style so little resembles that of
Stradella's other works that no less decisive evidence than the
discovery of an undoubted autograph could justify its ascription to
him. On the other hand, no more extravagant mistake could be
made than that of describing it, as some have done, as a forgery,
perpetrated either by Fetis, Rossini, or Niedermeyer. Not one of
these great musicians could have written it ; and it is certainly no
forgery, but a genuine work of the 17th century or the opening
decade of the 18th. In the absence of trustworthy documentary
evidence, all attempts to ascertain the real authorship of the piece
must necessarily end in mere conjecture ; but the extraordinary
similarity of its style to that cultivated by Francesco de' Rossi,
who is kno\fn to have been flourishing at Bari at the time of
Stradella's death, is very significant.
Much controversy has also been excited by another work, lately
attributed to Stradella, viz., a screnata for voices and instruments,
of which two copies only are known to exist, — one at the Con-
servatoire at Paris, .and the other, a late transcript, now at the
Royal College of Music in London. The date of this serenata is
absolutely unknown. Of evidence proving it to be a genuine
work by Stradella there is none in existence- Yet the question
of its authenticity is a most important one, for upon the strength
of it Handel may perhaps be some day gravely accused of having
stolen from the Italian composer some of the finest passages in
Israel ill Egypt.
The compositions of Stradella are remarkable for their graceful
form and the tenderness of their expression. Detached move-
ments will be found in Burney 's History of Music and the modern
collection called Ocmme d' Antichiti.
STRADIVARIUS. See Violin-.
STRAFFORD, Thomas Wentwoeth, Eael of
(1593-1641), son of Sir William Wentwortb, of Went-
worth Woodhouse, near Rotherham, was born in 1593 in
Chancery Lane, London. He was educated at St John's
College, Cambridge, and in 1611 was knighted, and mar-
ried Margaret, daughter of Francis, earl of Cumberland.
In 1614 he represented Yorkshire in the Addled Parlia-
ment, but, as far as is now known, it was not till the
parliament of 1621 that he took part in the debates. His
position towards the popular party was peculiar. He did
not sympathize with their eagerness for war with Spain,
and ne was eager, as no man of that time except Bacon
was eager, for increased activity in domestic legislation.
He was what, in modern times, would be called a reformer,
and in those days a reformer was necessarily an upholder
of the authority of the crown, in whose service the most
experienced statesmen might be expected to be found,
whilst the members of a House of Commons only sum-
' See No. 1272 in Cat. Harl. iiSS., Brit. Mus. Wanley, how-
ever, beUeved Stradella alone to have been mtirdereiS and the lady to
have escaped. ^ Called in sume editions Se i miei s.~jxri
moTied at considerable intervals would be deficient in tlit
qualities necessary for undertaking successful legislation.
On the other hand, James's conduct of the diplomatic
struggle with Spain was not such as to inspire confidence,
and Wentwortb 's' bearing was therefore marked by a
certain amount of hesitation. He was, however, more
than most men prone to magnify his office, and James's
contemptuous refusal to allow the House of Commons to
give an opinion on foreign politics seems to have stung
him to join in the vindication of the claims of the Hotise
of which he was a member. He was at all events a warm
supporter of the protestation which drew down a sentence
of dissolution upon the third parliament of James.
In 1622 Wentworth's wife died, and in Febr'uai^ 1625
he married Arabella Holies, the daughter of the earl of
Clare. Of the parliament of 1624 he had not been a
member, but in the first parliament of Charles I. he again
represented Yorkshire, and at once marked his hostility to
the proposed war with Spain by supporting a motion for
an adjournment before the House proceeded to business.
His election was declared void, but he was re-elected.
When he returned to parliament he took part in the op-
position to the demand made under the influence of
Bu:;kingham for war subsidies, and was consequently,
after the dissolution, made sheriff of Yorkshire, in order to
exclude him, as hostile to the court, from the parliament
which met in 1626. After the dissolution of that par-
liament he was dismissed from the justiceship of the peace
and the office of ciisios rotulorum of Yorkshire.
Wentworth's position was very different from that' of
the regular opposition. He was anxious to serve the
crown, but he disapproved of the king's policy. " My
rule," he wrote December 1625, "which I will never
transgress, is never to contend with the prerogative out
of parliament, nor yet to contest with a king but when I
am constrained thereunto or else make shipwreck of my
peace of conscience." In January 1626 he had asked
for the presidency of the Council of the North, and had
visited and made overtures to Buckingham. His subse-
quent dismissal was probably the result of his resolution
not to support the court in its design to force the country
to contribute money without a parliamentary grant. At
all events, he refused in 1627 to contribute to the forced
loan, and was placed in confinement in Kent for His
refusal.
Wentworth's position in the parliament of 1628 was a^
striking one. He joined the popular leaders in resistance
to arbitrary taxation and imprisonment, but he tried to
obtain his end with the least possible infringement of the
prerogative of the crown, to which he looked as a reserve
force in times of crisis. With the approbation of the
House he led the movement for a bill which would have
secured the liberties of the subject as completely as the
Petition of Right afterwards did, but in a manner less
offensive to the king. The proposal was wrecked upon
Charles's refusal to make the necessary concessions, and
the leadership was thus snatched from Wentworth's hands
by Eliot and Coke. Later in the session he fell into con-
flict with Eliot, as, though he supported the Petition of
Right in substance, he was anxious to come to a compro-
mise with the Lords, so a3 to leave room to the king to
act unchecked in -special emergencies.
On July 22, 1628, not long after the prorogation,
Wentworth was created Lord Wentwortb, and received a
promise of the presidentship of the Council of the North at
the next vacancy. Even on political matters he had never
been quite at unison with the parliamentary opposition,
and in church matters he was diametricaUy opposed to
them. Since the close of the discussion on the Petition
of Right, church matters had come into greater prominenf ^
STRAFFORD
585
than'everrand 'Wentwortb was therefore thrown strongly
on the side of Charles, from whom alone opposition to
Pnritanism could possibly come. This attachment to
Charles was doubtless cemented by Bjickingham's murder,
bnt. if he took thd king's part wilh decision and vigour, it
must be remembered that, as has been already said, he
was above all a man prone to magnify his ofiice. and that
things would look differently to him than they had done
before he was in his new position. For the charge of
apostasy in its ordinary meaning there is no foundation.
As yet 'Wentworth took no part in the general govern-
inent of the country. In December he became Viscount
Wentworth and president of the Council of the North.
In the speech delivered at Vork on his taking office he
announced his intention of doing his utmost to bind up
the prerogative of the crown and the liberties of the
subject in indistinguishable union. " Whoever," he said,
"ravels forth into questions the right of a king and of a
people shall never be able to wrap them up again into the
comeliness and order he found them."
The session of 1629 ended in a breach between the king
and the parliament which made the task of a moderator
hopeless. Wentworth had to choose between helping a
Puritan House of Commons to dominate the king and
helping the king to dominate a Puritan House of Commons.
He instinctively chose the latter course, and he threw
himself into the work of repression with characteristic
energy, as if the establishment of the royal power was the
one thing needful. Yet even when he was most resolute
in crushing resistance he held that he and not his
antagonists were maintaining the- old constitution which
they had attempted to alter by claiming supremacy for
parliament.
In November 1629 Wentworth became a privy
councillor. In October 1631 he lost his second wife,
and in October 1632 he married Elizabeth Rhodes. In
January 1632 he had been named lord-deputy of Ireland,
having performed his duties at York to the king's satis-
faction, though he had given grave offence to the northern
gentry by the enforcement of his authority. It was a
cardinal point of his system that no wealth or station
should exempt its possessor from obedience to the king.
Not only was the announcement of this principle likely to
give offence to those who were touched by it, but in its
application Wentworth was frequently harsh and over-
bearing. In general he may have been said to have
.worked rather for equality, under a strong Government
than for liberty.
.In Ireland Wentworth would have to deal with a
people which had not arrived at national cohesion, and
amongst which had been from time to time introduced
English colonists, some of them, like the early Norman
settlers, sharing in the Catholicism of the natives, whilst
the later importations stood aloof and preserved their
Protestantism. There was also a class of officials of
English derivation, many of whom failed to reach a high
standard of efficiency. Against these Wentworth, who
arrived in Dublin in July 1633, waged war sometimes
with scanty regard to the forms of justice, as in the case
of Lord Mountnorris, whom he sent before a court-martial
on a merely formal charge, which necessarily entailed a
death sentence, not because ho wanted to execute him, but
because he knew of no other way of excluding him from
official life.
TIk) purifying of ofTicial life, however, was but a
small part of Wentworth's task. In one way, indeed,
he conceived his duty in the best spirit. He tried at
the same time to strengthen the crown and to benefit
the poor by making the mass of the nation less dependent
on their chiefs and lords than they had been before, and.
though Wentworth could not do away with the effects of
previous mistakes, he might do much to soften; down-
the existing antagonism between the native populationi
and the English Government. Unhappily his intentions"
were frustrated by causes resulting partly from his own
character and partly from the circumstances in which he
was placed.
In the first place, Wentworth's want of money to carry
on the Government was deplorable. In 1634 he called a
parliament at Dublin, and obtained from it a consider-
able grant, as well as its co-operation in a remarkable
series of legislative enactments. The king, however, had
previously engaged his word to make certain concessions
known as the "graces," and Wentworth resolved that some
of these should not be gi'anted, and took upon himself to
refuse what his master had promised. The money granted
by parliament, however, would not last for ever, and
■ Wentworth resolved to create a balance between revenue
and expenditure before the supply was exhau.sted. This
he succeeded in doing, partly by making a vast improve-
ment in the material condition of the country, and partly
by the introduction of monopolies and other irregular
payments, which created wide dissatisfaction, especially
amongst the wealthier class.
Towards the native Irish Wentworth's bearing wag
benevolent but thoroughly unsympathetic. ' Having no,
notion of developing their qualities by a process of natural
growth, his only hope for them lay in converting them
into Englishmen as soon as possible. They must be made;
English in their habits, in their laws, and in their religion.-"
"I see plainly," he once wrote, "that, so long as this
kingdom continues Popish, they are not a people for the
crown of England to be confident of." It is true that he
had too much ability to adopt a system of irritating
persecution, but from time to time some word or act
escaped from him which allowed all who were concerned
to know what his real opinion was. For the present,
however, he had to content himself with forging the
instrument by which the hoped-for conversion was to be
effected. The Established Church of Ireland was in' a
miserable plight, and Wentworth busied himself with
rescuing from the hands of such men as the earl of Cork
the property of the church, which had in troublous times
been diverted from its true purpose, and with enforcing
the strict observance of the practices of the English Church,'
on the one hand upon recalcitrant Puritans, and on the
other hand upon lawless disregarders of all decericy. In
this way he hoped to obtain a church to which the Irish'
might be expected to rally.
Till that time came, he must rely on force to keep order
and to prevent any understanding growing up between
the Irish and foreign powers. With this object in view
he resolved on pouring English colonists into Connaught
as James had poured them into Ulster. To do this he
had taken upon himself to set at naught Charles's promise
that no colonists should be forced into Connaught, and in
1635 ho proceeded to that province, where, raking up an
obsolete title, ho insisted upon the grand juries in all the
counties finding verdicts for the king. One only, thai
of Galway, resisted, and the confiscation of Galway was
effected by the Court of Exchequer, whilst he fined the
sheriff £1000 for summoning such a jury, and' cited the
jurymen to the castle chamber to answer for their offence,
He had succeeded in setting all Ireland against him.
Highhanded as Wentworth was by nature, his rule in'
Ireland made him more high-handed than ever. Aa yet
ho had never been consulted on English aflairs, and it woa
only in February 1637 that Charles asked his opinion on
n proposed interference in the affairs of the Continent.
In reply, he assured Charles that it would bo unwise tc
XXII. — 74
586
S T R -S T R
undertake even naval operations till lie had secured
absolute power at home. The opinion of the judges had
given the king the right to levy ship-money, but, unless
his JIajesty had "the like, power declared to raise a land
arm)', the crov\Ti" seemed "to stand upon one leg at
home, to be considerable but by halves to foreign pnnces
abroad." The power so gained indeed must be shown to
be beneficent by the maintenance of good government,
but it ought to exist. A beneficent despotism supoorted
by popular gratitude was now Wentworth's ideal
In his own case Wentworth had cause to discover that
Charles's absolutism was marred by human imperfections.
Charles gave ear to courtiers far too often, and frequently
wanted to do them a good tarn by promoting incom-
petent persons to Irish offices. To a request from Went-
worth to strengthen the position of the deputy by raising
him to an earldom ho turned a dea£-ear. Yet to make
Charles more absolute continued to be the dominant note
3f his policy, and, when the Scottish Puritans rebelled, he
advocated the most decided measures of repression, and in
f"ebruary 1639 he offered the king £2000 as his contri-
bution to the expenses of the coming war. He was, how-
ever, too clear-sighted to do otherwise than deprecate an
invasion of Scotland before the EngUsh army was trained.
In September 1639, after Charles's failure in the first
Bishops' War, Wentworth arrived in England to conduct
in the star-chamber a case in which the Irish chancellor
was being prosecuted for resisting the deputy. From
that moment he stepped into the place of Charles's prin-
cipal adviser. Ignorant of the extent to which opposition
bad developed in England during his absence, he recom-
mended the calling of a parliament to support a renewal of
the war, hoping that by the ofier of a loan from the privy
councillors, to which he himself contributed £20,000, he
would place Charles above the necessity of submitting to
the new parliament if it should prove restive. In January
1640 he was created earl of Strafford, and in March he
went to Ireland to hold a parliament, where the Catholic
vote secured a grant of subsidies to be used against the
Presbyterian Scots. An Irish army was to be levied to
assist in the coming war. When in April Strafford
returned to England he found the Commons holding back
from a grant of supply, and tried to enlist the peers on
the side of resistance. On the other hand, he attempted
to induce Charles to be content with a smaller grant than he
had originally asked for. The Commons, however, insisted
on peace with the Scots, and on May 9, at the privy council,
Strafford, though reluctantly, voted for a dissolution
After this Strafford supported the harshest measures.
He urged the king to invade Scotland, and, in meeting
the objection that England might resist, he uttered the
words which cost him dear, " You have an army in Ire-
land,"— the army which, in the regular course of affairs,
was to have been employed to operate in the west of
Scotland, — "you may employ here to reduce this king-
'om." He tried to force the citizens of London to lend
money. He supported a project for debasing the coinage
and for seizing bullion in the Tower, the property of
foreign merchants. He also advocated the purchasing a
loan from Spain by the offer of a future alliance. He
was. ultimately appointed to command the Enghsh army,
but he was seized with illness, and the rout of Newbum
made the position hopeless. In the great council at York
he showed his hope that if Charles maintained the defen-
sive the country would still rally round him, whilst he
proposed, in order to secure Ireland, that thcv Scots of
Ulster should be ruthlessly driven from their homes.
When the Long Parliament met it was preparing to
impeach Strafford, when tidings reached its leaders that
6tiafford, now lord-lieutenant of Irela\»d. had come to
London and had advised the king to take the initia^tivi
by accusing his chief opponents of treason. On this the
impeachment was hurried on, and the Lords committed
Strafford to the Tower. At his trial in Westminster Hall
he stood on the ground that each charge agaitist him, even
if true, did not amount to treason, whilst Pym urged that,
taken as a whole, they showed an intention to change the
Government, which in itself was treason. Ondoubtedly
the project of bringing over the Irish army, probably neret
seriously entertained, did the prisoner most damage, and
when the Lords showed reluctance to condemn him the
Commons dropped the impeachment and brought in a Bill
of attainder. The Lords would probably have refused to
pass it if they could have relied on Charles's assurance to
relegate Strafford to private life if the bQl were rejected.
Charles unwisely took part in projectsfor effecting Strafford's
escape and even for raising a military force to accomplish
that end. The Lords took alarm and passed the bill On
Jlay 9, 16il, the king, frightened by popular tumults,
reluctantly signed a commission for the purpose of giving
to it the royal assent, and on the 12th Strafford was exe-
cuted on' Tower HiH. (s. R. g.)
STRAWS SETTLEMENTS," the collective name given
to the British possessions in the Malay Peniksola (see
vol. XV. p. 320, and Plate VI.), derived from the straits
which separate the peninsula from Sumatra and which
form so important a sea-gate between India and China.
The Straits Settlements are defined, by letters patent 17th
June 1885, as consisting of the island of Singapore (which
contains the seat of government), the town and province
.of Malacca, the territory and islands of the Dindings (off
Perak), the island of Penang, and Province Wellesley,
with their dependencies actual or prospective. The Cocos
or Keeling Islands (q.v.), formerly attached to Ceylon,
were transferred to the Straits Settlements !■• '*f86.
These possessions have formed a crown colony smce 1867,
previous to which they were administered as a presidency
of the Indian empire. The governor, appointed for'si]
years, is assisted by an executive and a legislative council.
Resident councillors are stationed at Penang and Malacca,
and since 1874 British residents have exercised supervision
at the native courts of Perak, Selangor, and Sungei Ujong,
and are assisted by a staff of European officials.
The following are the area and population (with details of nte«
divisions) of the settlements : —
Ar^«
in sq.
miles.
Population
in ISVl.
PopBlatioa In 1881. 1
Total.
Earo-
peans.
Malays. Chinese.
!
Natives
of India.
Singapore...
Peaang
Province
Wellesley .
Malacca ....
Bindings....
206
107
270
659
97,131
I 13i.889 1
77,755
139,208
90,951
'^7,324
93,579
2,322
J,76«
612
76
40
22,155
21,772
58.723
67,513
86,766
45,135
21,637
19,741
12,058
15,730
10,616
1,891
The population, which thus was 306,775 in 1871 and 423,384 in
1881, was estimated at 473,000 in 1884. The increase is solely
produced by immigration of Chinese and natives of India; for,
while the total number of births registered in Singapore, Penang,
Province Wellesley, and Malacca was in the three years 1881-83
only 21,134, the deaths -were 37,151.' In 1883 61,206 Chinese
landed at Singapore and 48,419 in Penang; and, though the influx
of Indian coolies has been retarded by the stringent protectivo
laws of the Indian Government, the stream of immigration has
been steadily increasing in volume. The number of Chinese. is
Ijrcbably below the truth, as- they were very reluctant to fill up
the returns In 1867, the date of the transfer to the crown, the
colony had it was estimated, not more than 283,384 inhabitants.
Therev'enUe, which was in 1868 only about 1^301,843 dollar^
had risen by 18S6 to 3,710,639, a large proportion being derived
1 The number of hospital cases, and conseqnently the death-rate,^ i-
affected, however, by the fact that natives from the rest of the penii
sola, whose diseases prove beyond native skill, are often brought t«
the coloQial hospitals.
S T R — S T R
587
,.om ©vium jmd spirit taxation (712,600 dollars in 1868 and
2,152,700 in 1S84). The expenditure in the same period increased
from 1,197,177 to 3,652,771 dollars. In 1SG8 12,400 dollars were
devoted to education (95,600 in 1884). Public works were credited
with 146,800 dollars in 1868 but with 1,170, OOOin 1834. The ports
ol the Straits Settlements are all free. In 1867 the total burden
was 1,237,700 tons, in 1873 2,507,000 tons, and in 1883 4,290,600.
The value of the united imports and exports was in 1867 about
£14,040,000, and in 1883 it was estimated by Sir Frederick Weld at
£38,624,200. The imports usually somewhat exceed the exports.
Malacca. — The territory of Malacca lies between the river
Linggi and the Kesau^, which separate it respectively from Sungei
Ujong to the north-west and the Moar district of Johor to the
east To the north it marches with Negri Sembilan. Forest
conservancy is beginning to be carefully attended to, and pepper
growing has recently been started with success at Arra Kudah by
Achinese settlers. Tapioca and tin are among the exports, the
latter, brought from the Selangor mines, being smelted in JlaJacca.
The average birth-rate in 1881-83 was 2046 and the death-rate 2642.
The city of JIalacca has already been described, vol. xv. p. 312.
PaiNCE OF Wales Islaud (or Penang) and Singapoke are
treated in separate articles.
Pkovince TVelleslet, whicb lies opposite Penang, was at one
time part of the Kedah territory, from which it is now separated
by the Kw.ila Muda river. Southwards it extends (since 1874) a
little to the south of the Krian river and marches with Perak,
The boundary was rectified by treaty witli Siam in 1867. Butter-
worth is the seat of the Government headquarters. The country
consists for the most part of fertile plain, and the remainder, about
one-eleventh of the whole, is low wooded hills (bighest 1843 feet).
Some of the low land is rich daik alluvial soil, and much of it is
sandy; in the hills a ferruginous sandy loam of rather poor quality
prevails. Sugar-growing has long been a staple industry, and tea
plantations began to be formed in 1869-70.
The Dikdikgs belonged originally to the state of Perak. The
British territory extends some 26 miles from north to south.
Though it has a magni&;ent natural harbour, "it has not liitherto,"
says Sir Frederick Weld, "been a progressive distiict But f
think its time is at hand. It produces tin, timber, and ebony,
and turtles frequent the neighbouring islands." Binding Island
lies off the mouth of the river of the same name.
Perak is an'extensive tract of country, comprising the great
part of the basin of the Perak river (which runs north and south,
almost parallel with the coast of the peninsula, for upwards of 130
miles, excluding the windings, before it turns abruptly west to
the Strait) and all the basin of the Bernam river. The boundary
towards Patani cuts the Perak river at the rapids of Jeram
Panjang. The population of the states is about 110,000, among
the more noteworthy tribes being the Sakeis. Perak was brought
into closer relation to Britain by the treaty signed at Pankor
(Pangkore) in the Dindings, 20th January 1874, which authorized
the appointment of a British resident and assistant resident. The
first resident, J. W. Birch, was murdered in November 1875; but
British troops from India and China, under General (Sir Francis)
Colborne, soon suppressed the insurrectionary movement. One
column crossed from L«mt to Kwala Kungsa and defeated tlio
rebels at Kotah Lamah, Knggar, and Prek, and another advanced
♦■rom Banda Baru (where Mr Birch was buried) to Blanja, the
esidenco of the ex-sultan Ismail, and thenco to Kinta on the
Kinta river, the capital of Perak. As it was discovered that
Abdullah, the ruling sultan, had been accessory to the murder of
Mr Birch, he was deposed in 1877 ahd banished to Mahe (Sey-
chelles). The residency of Lower Perak was removed from Banda
Baru to Durian Sabatang, the place where the Bidor and Batang
Padang. join the main stream of the Kungsa or Perak, and it has
again been removed to Teluk Anson (TclukMah Intan), lowerdown,
the centre of the iidand trade. The residency of Upper Perak is
at Kwala Kungsa. Perak has made wonderful advance since the
war. Its revenue was 312,875 dollars in 1877, and iu 1884, at a
moderate estimate, 1,435,697. In 1877 there was only one line of
zood road in the country, — from Larut through the pass of Bukit
Berapit to Kwala Kungsa ; now large tracts have been opened up
with roads and bridle-paths. " Kivers have been cleared of ob-
structions, telegraph lines laid down, court-houses, hospitals,
police-stations, &c., built, and a line of railway (8 miles) con-
structed from Port Weld, the port of Larut, at Teluk Kartang,
where vessels drawing 18 to 16 feet can enter to Taipcng (Thai-
peng)." The revenue is mainly derived from a duty on tin, wliich
18 largely mined in Larut, &c. The mines of the Cajiitaa China
in 1883 produced to the value of £105,000. Coffee and tea plant-
ing seem to promise well.
Selanoor lies to the south of Perak, and consists mainly of the
basins of the Selangor, the Klang, and the Laugat, of which the last
two meet in a common delta to the south of 3° N. lat Previous
to 1880 the seat of the British resident and staff ^\-a3 at Klang, at
the head of 18-fcet navigation on the Klang river ; at that date it
Vds transferred to Kwala I.umnur, at tho.iimct'on of the Gombah
mth the Klang, the highest point reached by the cargo boats which .
bring up provisions for the tin-miners and return with tin, gutta-
percha, and otlier produce. There are tin mining settlements at
Kaiiching, Ulu Selangor, Ulu Bernam, Ulu Gombah, Ulu Klang,
Ulu Langat, Sungie Patch Kecko, Kajang, Arapagnan, &c Tho
mine at Ampagnan was bought for 170,000 dollars by Singapore
merchants. The population of Selangor (50,000,-29,000 of them
Chinese) is rapidly increasing by immigration from China, India,
and Sumatra. Since the close of the civil war (1867-74) and the
acceptance of the British resident the country has rapidly devel-
oped. At the month of the Selangor lies the town of that name,
with ruins "of an old Dutch fort and tlie stone on which the sultans
of Selangor receive investiture. At Klang, up the Klang river,
lies the principal port of the country, now connected by railway
with Kwala Lumpor (22 miles distant), the capital, which has
giown into a considerable town, witli a hospital. Government house,
residency, &c Tlie sultan resides at Jugi-a, on a deltaic blanch of
the LfiDgat. The revenue of Selangor was estimated at 596,877
dollars in 1884 ; bnt the w.ar debt was still 259,000 dollars in 1883.
Sungei Ujong (500 square miles, including Lukut and Sungei
Kiah ; population 14,000, the greater part being Chinese) also shows
steady progress. Its revenue rose from 67,000 dollars in 1874-75
to 121,176 in 1884. European coffee sfnd cocoa plantations and
Chinese tapioca, pepper, and gambier plantations are at work
The interference of the British Government is frequently sought
m the territory of the Negri Sembilan (the so-called ' ' Nine States,"
which are now really seven in number), Sri Menanti, Numbaw,
Johole, Jellye, Muar, Jempolt, Segamet
See Journal of the Straits Asiatic Society, Singapore; Dowden, The Malajf
Penimuln, 1862; Vacber, Ticetve Years in 2/alai/a; M'Nair, Perak and Ike
Ma!ai/s, 1878; W. B. D' Almeida, "Geography of Perak and SalanRore," in J.
Rov Geoij. Soc, 1676 ; Sir Fredericlt Weld, " Straits Suttlements," in Proceedingt
of Royal Colonial Institute, 168S-84; The Straits Dittctorp, 1886; and tlie woilu
mentioned in tlie article Malay Pbninsui.a.
STKALSUND, a seaport and small manufacturing
town in Western Pomerania, Prussia, is situated on the
Strelasund, an arm of tlie Baltic Sea, 2 miles wide, whidi
separates the island of Piiigen from the mainland, 115
miles to the north of Berlin and 85 miles to the north-
west of Stettin. The position of the town on a small
triangular islet, only connected with the mainland by
moles and bridges at the angles, has always rendered its
fortification comparatively easy, and down to 1873 it was
a fortress of the first rank. The quaint architecture of
the houses, many of which present their curiotis and
handsome gables to the street, gives Stralsund an interest-
ing and old-fashioned appearance. The three vast Gothic
churches of St Nicholas, St Mary, and St James, erected
in tho 14th and 15th centuries, and tho town-house,
dating in its oldest part from 1316, are among the more
striking buildings. The public library, founded in 1709,
contains 60,000 volumes. The manufactures of Stralsund
are more miscellaneous than extensive ; they include
machinery, beer, oil, paper, playing-cards, and sugar.
The trade is chiefly confined to the shipping of grain,
malt, and timber, with some cattle and wool. In 1884
542 sea-going ships and 1964 river-craft entered the har-
bour, which is protected by tho fortified island of Diin-
holra, and 513 ships and 19G4 river-craft cleared. In
1882 the port owned a fleet of 247 sea-going ships, with a
burden of 41,176 tons, besides numerous smaller craft
below 60 tons. The population in 1880 was 29,481, in
1885 28,981. More than a fourth of the inhabitants re-
side in the Knieper, Tribseer, Franken, and Harbour sub-
urbs on the mainland. About 1000 are Roman Catholics
and 140 Jews.
Stralsund was founded in 1209 by Jaromar I., prince of Riigen,
and, though several timis destroyed, steadily prosjiercd. It was
one of the live Weudish towns whoso alliance extorted from King
I5ric of Norway a favourable commercial treaty in 1284-85 ; and in
the 14lh century it was second only to Lubcck in tho Hanseatic
League. Although under •ho sway of tho dukes of Pomerania, tin
city was able to maintain a .narked degree of independence, which
is still apparent in its muniorial privilcgoa; it i» also the only
town in Prussia, with tho cxtepu-on of lireslau, wliich has an inde-
pendent municipal ecclesiastical t;..i»i8lory. Us early Protestant
sympathies placed it on tho side of Sweden during tlio Thirty
Years" War; and in 1628 it successfully resisted a siege ..f eleven
weeks by Wallenstcin, who liad sworn to i-'ko it "though it wcr«
chained to heaven." Uu was forced to reicc with the Iom. of
588
S T R — S T ^t
12,000 men; and a yearly festival in the-tqwn still celebrates the
occasion. After the peace of Westphalia Stralsond was ceded with
the rest of Western Pomerania to Sweden ; and for more than a
century and a half it was exposed to attack and capture as the
UU-de-pont of the Swedes in Continental Europe. In 1815 it passed
to Prussia. In 1809 it was the* scene of the death of Major SchUl,
in his gallant though ineffectual attempt to rouse his countrymen
against the French invaders.
STRANGE, Sir "Robert (1721-1792), an eminent line
engraver, was descended from the Scottish family of
Strange, or Strang, of Balcasky, Fife, and was bora in the
Mainland of Orkney, on" July 14, 1721. In his youth he
spent some time in an attorney's office; but, having mani-
fested a taste for drawing, he was apprenticed, in 1735, to
Richard Cooper, an engraver in Edinburgh. After leaving
Cooper in 1741, he started on his own account as an en-
graver, and had attained a fair position when, in 1745, he
joined the Jacobite army as a member of the corps of life
guards. He engraved a half-length of the Young Pre-
tender, and also etched plates for a bank-note designed for
the payment of the troops. He was present at the battle
of Culloden, and after the defeat remained in hiding in
the Highlands, but ultimately returned to Edinburgh,
where, in 1747, he married Isabella, only daughter of
William Lumisden, son of a bishop of Edinburgh.
In the following year he proceeded to Rouen, and there
studied drawing under J. B. Descamps, carrying off the
first prine in the Academy of Design. In 1749 he removed
to Paris, and placed himself under the celebrated Le Bas.
It was from this master that he learned the use of the
dry point, an instrument which he greatly improved, and
employed with excellent effect in his own engravings. In
1750 Strange returned to England. Presently he settled
in London along with his wife and daughter, and super-
intended the illustrations of Dr William Hunter's great
work on the Gravid. Uffrus, published in 1774. The
plates were engraved from red chalk dravrings by Van
Rymsdyk, now preserved in the Hunterian Museum, Glas-
gow, and two of them were executed with great skill, by
Strange's own hand. By his plates of the Magdalen and
Cleopatra, engraved after Guido in 1753, he at once
established his professional reputation.'
He was invited in 1759 to engrave the portraits of
the prince of Wales and Lord Bute, by Allan Ramsay,
but declined, on the ground of the insufficient remunera-
tion offered and of the pressure of more congenial work
after the productions of the Italian masters. His refusal
was attributed to his Jacobite proclivities, and it led to
an acrimonious correspondence with Ramsay, and fo the
loss, for the time, of royal patronage. In 1760 Strange
started on a long-meditated tour in Italy. He studied
in Florence, Naples, Parma, Bologna, and Rome, execut-
ing innumerable drawings, of which many — the Day of
Correggio, the Danae and the Venus and Adonis of Titian,
the St Cecilia of Raphael, and the Barberini Magdalen of
Guido, &c. — were afterwards reproduced by his burin.
On the Continent he was received with great distinction,
and he was elected a member of the academies of Rome,
Florence, Parma, and Paris. He left Italy in 1764, and,
having engraved in the French capital the Justice and the
Meekness of Raphael, from the Vatican, he carried them
with him to London in the following year.
The rest of his life was spent mainly in these two cities,
in the diligent prosecution of his art. In 1766 he was
elected a member of the Incorporated Society of Artists,
and in 1775, piqued by the exclusion of engravers from
the Royal Academy, he published an attack on that
body, entitled An Enquiry into the Rise and Progress of
tlie Royal Academy of Arts at London, and prefaced by a
long letter to Lord Bute. In 1787 he engraved West's
Apotheosis of the Princes Octavius and Alfred, and was
rewarded with the honour of knighthood. He died in
London on the 5th of July 1792.
In the technique of engraving Strange was a master. HiS;
line is tender and flowing, without monotony or confusion, and
his expression of flesh is characterized by uncommon delicacy and
transparency. In draftsmanship his work™, are often defective.
After his death a splendid edition of reserved proofs of his
engravings was issued ; and a catalogue of his works, by Charles
Blanc, was published in 1848 by Rudolph Weigel of Leipsic,
formiug part of Le Graveur en Taille Douce. See Memoirs of Sir
Robert Strange, Knl., and kis Brother-in-law Andrew Lumisden,
by James Dennistoun of Dennistoun, 1855.
STRANRAER, a royal burgh of Wigtownshire, Scot-
land, is situated on the North Channel, at the head of
Loch Ryan, 7i miles north-east of Portpatrick, and 59
miles ^outh-south-west of Ayr. In the centre of the town
is the old baronial castle of the 15th century occupied by
Claverhouse when he held the office of sheriff of Galloway.
The principal public buildings are the old town-hall, the
new town-hall and court-house (1873), and.the academy
(1845). A reformatory provides accommodation for 100
boys, and there is a combination poorhouse for the county
and a few parishes beyond it. The town possesses a
library and public reading-room. The harbour, which
is tidal, only admits the entrance of vessels of 150 tons,
but there is good anchorage in the loch, and the east pier
permits of the approach of large steamers, which ply in
connexion with the railway daily to Larne in Ireland.
There is also steam communication with Glasgow, Liver-
pool, and other towns ; but since the construction of the
Girvan and Portpatrick Railway the trade of the port has
been on the decline. The principal import is coal, and
the principal exports are agricultural produce. The town
is chiefly dependent on agriculture. The fishing industry
is of minor importance. The population in 1881 of the
royal burgh (area 55 acres) was 3455, and of the police
burgh 6342. The town was created a burgh of barony
in 1596, and a royal burgh in 1617. In 1885 its parlia-
mentary representation (it had been one of the Wigtown
burghs) was merged in that of the county.
STRASBURG (Germ. Strassburg, Fr. Strasbourg), the
principal town of Alsace, and a fortress of the first rank,
is situated at the junction of the 111 and the Breusch,
about two miles to the west of the Rhine, in one of
the most fertile districts in the upper Rhenish plain,'
It lies about 90 miles to the north of Basel, 250 miles
to the east of Paris, and 370 miles to the south-west
of Berlin. Since 1871
it has been the seat ^;
of government for the
German crownland of
Alsace-Lorraine (Elsass-
Lothringen) ; and it is
also the see of a
Roman Catholic bishop Environs of Stiasburg.
and the headquarters of the 15th corps of the German
army.
The town proper is divided by the arms of the 111 into
three parts, of which the central is the largest and most
important. Most of the streets are narrow and irregular,
and the quaint aspect of a free mediasval town has to a
considerable extent been maintained. The quarters which
suffered most in the bombardment of 1870 have, how-
ever, been rebuilt in a more modern fashion, and the
recent widening of the circle of fortifications, with the
destruction of the old walls, has given the city opportunity
to expand in all directions.
By far the most prominent building is the minster,
or cathedral, which in its present form represents the
activity of four centuries. Part of the crypt dat«s from
about 1015; the apse shows the transition from the
Romanesque to the Gothic style ; and the nave, finished
S T R — S T R
589
in 1275, 13 a fine specimen of pure Gothic. Of the
elaborate west facade, with its singular screen of double
tracery, the original design was furnished by Erwin of
Steinbach-(c. 1318). The upper part of the fa?ade and
the towers were afterwards completed in accordance
•with a different plan, and the intricate open-work spire
on the north tower, 465 feet high, was added in 1435.
The sculptural ornamentation both without and within
is very rich. , The astronomical clock in the south tran-
sept, constructed in 1838-42, contains some fragments
of the famous clock built by Dasypodius in 1571. The
church of St Thomas, a Gothic building of the 13th and
14th centuries, contains a fine monument to Marshal Saxe,
considered the chefaceuvre of the sculptor Pigalle. Other
notable buildings are the Temple-Neuf, or Neukirche, re-
built since 1870 ; the old episcopal palace (1731-41), now
the library; the old prefecture; the theatre; the town-
house; and the so-called "aubette," containing the conser-
vatorium of music. The university of Strasburg, which was
suppressed in the French Eevolution as e, stronghold of
German sentiment, was reopened in 187'2, and now occupies
Plan of Strasburg.
1. CattaedA).
2. Library.
3. St Thomas's Cb.
4. Hoipital.
8,6. Unlv.Med.Fac.
6. 6. Barracks.
7. Akademie,
8. Govt. Tobacco
Factory.
9. University.
10. Imp. Palace.
11. Theatre.
12. Law Courts.
13. Aubette.
14. Neukirche.
15. Prot. Gymna-
sium.
16. Arsenal.
17. Military Hos-
pital.
a handsome new building erected for it in 1884. The
university and town library, containing about 600,000
volumes, consists largely of the books sent from all parts
of Germany to compensate for the town library destroyed
in the bombardment of 1870. The precious incunabula
and manuscripts which then perished are, however, irre-
placeable. -General Kleber, who was a native of Strasburg,
and Gutenberg, who spent part of his life here, are both
commemorated by statues. Many private houses are most
quaint and interesting illustrations of timber architecture.
Pleasant public parks and gardens fringe the town.
The population in 1880 was 104,471, including 51,859
Roman Catholics, 48,691 Protestants, and 3521 Jews. In
1885 the total population had risen to 112,091, showing an
increase of 7*29 per cent. The town, strictly so called, does
not contain more than 90,000 inhabitants, the rest belong-
ing to the suburban villages. Even before the war of 1870-
71 more than half of the inhabitants spoke German as
their mother-tongue, and this proportion has probably been
somewhat increased since. Thejsympathies of the people,
however, like those of most of the Alsatians, lay with
France, Jind it will require the growth of a new generation
to bring about a complete reconciliation to German rule.
The chief industries of Strasburg are tanning, browing, and tb»
making of stocl poods, machinery, and tobacco. To tbese must be
added the stall-fattening of geeso for its celebrated pilia de foie
gras, an occupation whioli forms a most useful source of income to
the poorer classes. The annual value of these " fat liver pies " sent
out from Strasburg is over £100,000. The position of the town at
the intersection of natural highways between France and Germany,
Switzerland and Belgium, early made it a place of considerable
commercial importance, and it now carries on a brisk trade in
agricultural produce, hams, sausages, sauerkraut, and hops. It»
full development in this direction, though favoured by the canal*
connecting the Rhine with the Rhone and the Marne, has been
somewhat hampered by the iron girdle of fortifications.
Strasburg has always been a place of great strategic im^ortanOB,
and as such strongly fortified. The pentagonal citadel constructed
by Vauban in 1682-84 was destroyed during the siege of 1870. The
new German system of fortifications consists of a girdle of fourteen
detached forts, at a distance of three to five miles from the centre of
the town. Kehl, the (^te-rfc-poniof Strasburg, and several villages are
included within this enceinte, and three of the outworks lie od the
right bank of the Rhine, in the territory of Baden. In case of need
a great part of the environs can be laid under water by the garrison.
The site of Strasburg seems to have been originally occupied by
a Celtic settlement, which the Romans conquered and replaced by
the fortified station of Argentoratuni, afterwards the headquarter*
of the eighth legion. In the year 357 the emperor Julian saved
the frontier of the Rhine by a decisive victory gained here over tbe
Alemanni, but about half a century later the whole of the district
now called Alsace fell into the hands of that Teutonic people.'
Towards the end of the 6th century th« town passed to the
Franks, who named it Slratahurgum. The famous " Strashurff
oaths" (see Geemant, vol. x. p. 480) were taken here in 842 ; and
in 923, through the homage paid by the duke of Lorraine to
Henry I., began the connexion of the town with the kingdom of
Germany which was to last for more than seven centuries. The
bishopric of Strasburg was founded in the Merovingian period, and
soon attained great wealth and importance. The early history of
Strasburg, as in the case of most episcopal cities, consists mainly
of a record of the struggle between the bishops and the citizens, —
the latter, as they grew in wealth and power, feeling the fetters of
ecclesiastical rule inconsistent with their full development. The
conflict was finally decided in favour of the citizens by the battle
of Oberhausbergen in 1262 ; and the positioi) of free Imperial city,
which had been conferred upon Strasburg by Philip of Swabia,
was not again disputed. The throwing off of the episcopal yoke
was followed by an internal revolution (1332), which admitted the
guilds to a share jn the government of the city and impressed upon
It the democratic character that it bore down to the French Revolu-
tion. Strasburg now became one of the most flourishing of all the
imperial towns, and the names of natives or residents like Sebastian
Brant, Tauler, Fischart, and Geiler von Kaysersberg show that its
pre-eminence was not confined to the material sphere. On the other
hand, its fair fame is sullied by such acts as the burning in 1349 of
2000 Jews, accused of causing a pestilence by poisoning the wells.
In 1381 Strasburg joined the Stadtebund, or Swabian League, and
about a century later it rendered efficient aid to the Swiss confeder-
ates at Granson and Nancy. The Reformation found ready accept-
ance at Strasburg, its foremost champion hero being Martin Bucer,
and the city was skilfully piloted through the ensuing period of
religious dissension by its "stadtmeister" Jacob Sturm, who se-
cured for it very favourabl terms at the end of the Schmalkald
War. In the Thirty Years' WarStrasburg escaped without molesta-
tion by observing a prudent neutrality. In 1681, during a time of
peace, it was suddenly seized by Louis XIV., and tliis unjustifiabU
action received formal recognition at the peace of Ryswick in 1697.
The immediate elTect of the change of superiors was a partial reaction
in favour of Roman Catholicism, but the city remained essentially
German until the French Revolution, when it was deprived of its
privileges as a free town and sank to the level of a French provin-
cial capital. It was at Strasburg that Louis Napoleon made his
first incfTcctual attempt to grasp power. In the war of 1870 Stras-
burg, with its garrison of 17,000 men, surrendered to the Germans
after a siege of seven weeks. The town and cathedral sufTorod con-
siderably from the bombardm int, but all traces (X the hovoo have
now disappeared.
I STRASS, or Paste. ' See Glass, vol. x. p.' 665>
' STRATEGY.- See War.
STRATFORD, usually designated Stratford-on-Avon,
a market-town and municipal borough of England, in War-
wickshire, near the Gloucestershire border, is pleasantly
situated on the Avon, and on the Great Western and -Mi*
land Railway lines, 26 miles south of Birmingham and 8
south-west of Warwick.- The Avon is crossed by a stono
bridge of fourteen arches, built by Sir Hugh Clopton in the
590
STRA TFORD
reign of Henry VII.", and wiaened in 1814 ; by a bridge
of nine arcLes, built of brick in 1826 ; and by a foot-bridge
erected in ISO", at a cost of £500, on the site of a foot-
bridge originally erected in 1599, and rebuilt in 1812. The
streets are wide and regular, crossing each other generally
at right angles, and; says -J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps, "'with
the exception of a few difiused buildings, scarcely one of
■n-hicb is in its original condition, there is no resemblance
between the present town and the Shakespearean borough "
(compare article Shakespeabe, vol. xxi. pp. 7-11 sq.). The
church of the Holy Trinity occupies the site of 'a Saxon
monastery, which existed before 691, when the bishop of
Worcester received it in exchange from Ethelred, king of
Jlercia. It is a fine cruciform structure, partly Early
English and partly Perpendicular, with a central tower and
lofty octagonal spire. It was greatly improved in the reign
of Edward III. by John de Stratford, who rebuilt the south
aisle. He also in 1332 founded a chantry for priests, and
in 1351 Ealph de Stratford built for John's chantry priests
"a house of square stone," which came to be known as the
college, and in connexion with which the church became
collegiate. The present beautiful choir was built by Dean
Balshall (1-4C5-91), and in the reign of Henry VII. the
north and south transepts were erected. The mural monu-
ment of Shakespeare, who is buried in the chancel, is of
special interest from its effigy of the poet, undoubtedly
an authentic representation, though somewhat altered and
damaged by time. The foundation of the chapel of the
guild of the Holy Cross was laid by Robert de Stratford.
The guild, to which both sexes were admitted, was in exist-
ence early in the 13th century, and it was incorporated by
a, charter from Edward lU. in 1322. It was dissolved in
1547. The house in which Shakespeare was born still
stands — although its external appearance is much altered,
— and an apartment is by immemorial tradition pointed out
as his birth-room. In 1597 Shakespeare purchased New-
Place for his residence (see vol xxi. p. 765). Shakespeare's
house was pulled down by Sir John Clopton in 1702, and
the large new mansion erected on its site was pulled down
by Sir Francis Gastrell in 1759. Chiefly through the exer-
tions of J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps, the site of New Place was
purchased by public subscription, and in 1876 handed over
to tha trustees of the birthplace. The old theatre, which
had occupied part of the ground, was taken down in 1872,
and in 1S77 a new memorial theatre was erected at a cost
of £30,000. The other principal buildings of the town are
the town-hall, originally erected in 1633, almost entirely
rebuilt in 1767-68, after having been severely injured by an
explosion, and greatly altered in r'';63 at a cost of £2000 ;
tho market-house (1820) ; the cor exchange (1850) ; the
children's hospital (187l); and ti.3 new hospita,l (1884).
The Edward VI. grammar school, where Shakespeare re-
ceived his education, was founded in 1553. The town is
chiefly dependent on the agrioultiire of the neighbourhood.
The population of the borough in 1871 was 7183, and in
1881 (area extended in 1879 to 3865 acres) it was 8054.
There is no authentic mention of Stratford earlier than the 7th
century. It received a r barter for a market in the reign of
Richard I., but was not incorporated till the reign of Edward YT..
The charter of Charles II., granted in his 26th year, remained the
governing charter of the town till the passing of the Municipal
Act in 1835. The town suffered in m a severe epidemic in 1564,
from inundations in 1588, and from fire in 1598.
See S, L. Lee, Slral/ord-on-Avon, 1884; J. 0. Halliwell-PluUipps. Oullmes of
the Life of Shakspcave, sixth edition (with a history of New Place), 1886 ; and the
article Shakespeare.
STRATFORD, a town. of Canada, capital <rf Perth
county, Ontario, lies on the river Avon (a tributary of the
Thames which discharges into Lake St Clair), about 45
miles by rail south-east of Goderich, at the junction of the
Groderich and Buffalo division with the main line of the
Grand Trunk Railway. - In 1849 it w^s a village of only
20u inhabitajits ; but between 1871 and 1881 its popu-
lation ro.se from 4313 to 8239. It has a town-hall, ex-
tensive repairing shops, and several manufactures.
STRATFORD DE REDCLIFFE, Steatfoed Cakxisg,
ViscorxT (17S6-1SS0), diplomatist, was the first cousin
of George Canning the statesman, and the youngest sou
of Stratford Canning, who, having been disinherited for
marrj-ing beneath his rank, settled in London as a mer-
chant in Clement's Lane, where young Canning was
born 4th November 1786. Shortly afterwards the father
died, and the family removed to Wanstead, the boy
attending the village school and afterwards a school at
Hackney until 1794, when he went to Eton. Ultimately
he became captain of the school, and he also manifested
his literary predilections by publishing, in ' conjunction
with Wellesley and others, a collection of essays entitled
The 2/miatHre. In 1805 he was elected scholar of King's
College, Cambridge, and, while still attending the univer-
sity, became in 1807 precis writer to his cousin, who had
been appointed foreign minister. . At the close of the
year he went to Copenhagen as one of the secretaries of a
special diplomatic mission, and after his return he was
appointed in June 1808 first secretary at Constantinople.
On the removal of his chief Mr Adair to Vienna in July
1810, Canning remained minister plenipotentiary, making
use of the opportunity to give indications of that over-
mastering purpose and bold yet subtle diplomacy which
were to have such an important influence on the history of
the Eastern question. In 1812 he succeeded in effecting
the treaty of Bucharest between Russia and Turkey,
which was signed on the 12th May, shortly before the
arrival of his successor. This was properly the inaugura-
tion of that English influence in Turkey which did not
ceaise until within recent years. The treaty was also of
immense immediate advantage by freeing the Russian
army to act against Napoleon, and on his return to Eng-
land Canning was rewarded by a pension of £1200 a ycar^
He remained in London, occupying himself with litera-
ture, and contributing some articles to the Qnarkrly
Review, then newly founded, until in May 1814 he was
appointed by Lord Castlereagh mirdster plenipotentiary
to Switzerland, where he succeeded in effecting the federa-
tion of the cantons as a neutral state. He returned to
England in 1817, and in August 1820 was sent as pleni-
potentiary to the United States, to arrange certain out-
standing differences between the States and England ; but,
although a convention was signed 13th March 1824, this
was rejected by the American senate, and matters for
several years remained, so far as any actual arrangement
was concerned, in statu quo. In October 1825 Canning
was sent on a second commission to Constantinople, chiefly
to promote the independence of Greece, but after long
and complicated negotiations the attack, without the
knowledge of the ambassadors, on the Turkish tteetr by
the allies under Sir E. Codrington at Navarino, 20th
October 1827, caused a conference then being held to bo
suddenly broken up, and rendered necessary the with-
drawal of the ambassadors from Constantinople. They,
however, again met at Poros towards the close of the
following year, and ultimately Turkey was compelled, by
the treaty of Adrianople, 14th August 1829, following a
short war with Russia, to loose her grasp on Greece, and
consent to the arrangement of a frontier limit. On his
return to England Canning was made G.C.B. In 1828
he had been elected to the House of Commons for Old
Sarum, and he sat for different boroughs until 1841,i
when he tgain accepted the oflice of ambassador to
Turkey. During the next twelve years he gradually .suc-
ceeded in winning the confidence of the sultan, as well as
awakening his wholesome awe, bY_ convincing liimj not
S T R — S T E
591
merely of his sincere interest in the welfare of Turkey,
but of his sole ability to thwart the wiles of the Russian
emperor. There is no doubt a certain degree of exaggera-
tion in Kinglake's description of Canning as the " Great
Elchi," at whose slightest frown the Turks were ready to
quail, and by whose matchless skill and coolness the em-
peror Nicholas was placed at his wits' end ; but the con-
summate ability with which he managed the negotiations
' connected with the question of the Holy Places, so as to
place the emperor as much as possible in the wrong, and
to render his act of hostility on 3d July 1853 — which led to
the Crimean war — unjustifiable, cannot be denied. During
the war he retained his position at Constantinople, but at
its conclusion he returned in 1858 to London. In 1852
he had been raised to the peerage with the title Viscount
Stratford do RedclifTe. His later years were spent chiefly
in retirement, and, except when the Eastern question came
prominently into notice, he took little part in political dis-
cussion. On Eastern politics he contributed several papers
to the Times and the Nineteenth Century. He died with-
out surviving male issue 14th August 1880.
His essays were collected and published in 1881 under the title
of the Eastern Question, with a memorial |ireface by Dean Stauley.
A memoir by Stanley Lane Poole is in preparation.
STRATO. See Peripatetics, vol. sviii. p. 545.
STRAUBING, an ancient town in the most fertile part
of Lower Bavaria, is situated on the right bank of the
Danube, 25 miles to the south-east of Ratisbon. Its oldest
and most characteristic building is the tall square tower
of the town-hall, with its five pointed turrets, dating from
1208. The church of St James is a good Late Gothic edi-
fice (1292-1512), with some paintings ascribed to Wohl-
gemuth, and the old Carmelite church contains a handsome
monument to Duke Albert 11. of Bavaria. The industries
of Straubing are tanning, brewing, and trade in grain and
cattle. The population in 1880 was 12,625, nearly all
Roman Catholics.
Straubing is a'town of remote origin, believed to fce identical with
the Roman station of Servioiurum. In definite history, however,
it is known only as a Bavarian town, and from 1333 to 1425 it was
the seat of the collateral ducal line of Baicrn-Straubing. Its chief
historical interest attaches to its connexion with the unfortunate
Agnes Bernaucr, who lived at the chateau hero v(ith her husband
Duko Albert III. During the latter's absence his father, Duke
Ernest, exasperated at the mesalliance, cruelly and unjustly con-
demned his son's low-bom wife to death, and caused her to be hurled
into the Danube from the bridge (1435). A chapel in the church-
yard of St Peter's is said to cover her remains. Fraunhofcr the
optician was born at Straubiug in 1787.
STRAUSS, David Friedeich (1808-1874), author of
the Lghen Jem, was born at Ludwigsburg, near Stuttgart,
January 27, 1808. He was the son of a small tradesman
who loved literature and thought more than business, and
his mother was a bright intelligent woman whose piety was
practical rather than meditative, while she had an open
eye for the beauties of art and nature. In his thirteenth
year the boy was sent to the evangelical seminary at Blau-
beuren, near Ulm, to be prepared for the study of theo-
logy. Amongst his school-fellows were youths destined to
become equally distinguished with himself, of whom he
has given sketches in his Christian MCirldin. Amongst
the principal masters in the school were Professors Kern
and F. C. Baur, who infused into their pupils above all a
deep love of the ancient cla.s3ios. In 1825 Strauss passed
from school to the university of Tubingen. The course of
study was two years of philosophy and history and three
of theology. The professors of philosophy failed to
interest him, and he accordingly followed pretty much his
own devices in this field, devoting himself especially to
Schelling, the writers of the romantic school, Jacob Bobmc,
and even to somnambulistic and other modern supersti-
tiooa. In 1826 his previous teachers, Kern and Baur,
removed to Tiibingen, and the latter introduced him to
the writings of Schloiermacher, which awoke hia keen
dialectical faculty and delivered him from the vague-
ness and exaggerations of romantic and somnambulistic
mysticism, while for a time he found satisfaction for his
religious nature in Schleiermacher's idea of religion. In
the last year of his stay at Tiibingen he read with Marklin
Hegel's Fhdnomenologie, which was the beginning of his
abandonment of Schleiermacher for Hegel. In 1830 he
passed his examination brilliantly, and became assistant
to a country clergyman, and was greatly beloved as
preacher and pastor by the parishioners. After nine
months in this position he accepted the post of professor
in the high school at Maulbronn, having to teach Latin,
history, and Hebrew. Here also he was most successful
and highly valued. But in October 1831 he resigned his
ofiice in order to study under Schleiermacher and Hegel in
Berlin. Hegel died just as he arrived, and, though he
regularly attended Schleiermacher's lectures, it was only
those on the life of Jesus which exercised a very powerful
influence upon him. It was amongst the followers of
Hegel that he found kindred spirits. Under the leading of
Hegel's distinction between " Vorstellung " and " Begriff,"
he had already conceived the idea of his two principal
theological works — the Life of Jesus and the Chrisliati
Dogmatics. In 1832 he returned to Tiibingen and became
repetent in the university, lecturing on logic, history of
philosophy, Plato, and history ct ethics, with great success.
But in the autumn of 1833 he resigned this position in
order to devote all his time to the completion of his pro-
jected Life of Jesus. In a year the manuscript was fin-
ished, and in 1834 the first volume and in 1835 the second
were given to the world. The work produced an immense
sensation and created a new epoch in the treatment of
the rise of Christianity. The chief replies to it were
by Tholuck, Neander, A. Schweizer, Ullmann, and Bruno
Bauer. In 1837 Strauss replied to his critics (Streitsckriften
zur Vertheidigung meiner Schrift iiher das Leben Jes^i). In
the third edition of the work (1839), and in Zicci
friedlic/ie Blatter, he made important concessions to his
critics, which he withdrew, however, in the fourth edition
(1840, translated into English by George Eliot, with Latin
preface by Strauss, 1846). In 1840 and the following
year he published his Christliche Glaubenslehre (2 vols.),
the principle of which is that the history of Christian
doctrines is their disintegration. Between the publication
of this work and that of the Friedliche Blatter ho had been
elected to a chair of theology in the university of Zurich.
But the appointment provoked such a storm of popular
ill-will in the canton that the authorities considered it
wise to pension him before he entered upon his duties,
although this concession came too lato to save the Govern-
ment. With his Glaubenslehre he took leave of theology
for upwards of twenty years. In August 1842 he married
Agnes Schobest, a cultivated and beautiful opera singer
of high r§pute, but not adapted to be the wife of a scholar
and literary man like Strauss. Five years afterwards,
when two children had been born, a separation by arrange-
ment was made. Strauss resumed his literary activity
by the publication of Der Romantiker auf dcm Throne dcr
Cxsaren, in which he drew a satirical parallel between
Julian the Apostate and Frederick William IV. of Prussia
(1847). In 1848 he was nominated as member of tlie
Frankfort parliament, but was defeated. Ho was elected
for the Wiirtemberg chamber, but his action was so con-
servative that his constituents requested him to resign hia
seat. He forgot his political disappointments in the pro-
duction of a series of biographical works, which secured
for him a permanent place in German literature {Schuhm-t's
Leben, 2 vols., 1849; Christian Marklin, 1851 ; FrisMirK
592
S T R — S T R
1855;- UirichvonJIutten, 3 vols., 1858-60, 4th ed., 1878;
U. S. Heimariis, 1S62). With this last-named work (see
Reimarps) he returned to theology, and two years after-
wards (ISW) published his Leben Jesu fiir das Deutsche
\Volk (4th ed., 1877). It failed to produce an effect com-
parable with that of, the first Life, but the replies 'to it
•were many, and Strauss answered them in his pamphlet Di'e
Halben wid die Gcmzen (r865), directed specially against
Schenkel and Hengstenberg. His Christns des Glaubens
vnd der Jesus der Geschichte (1865) is a severe criticism of
Scbleiermacher'.s lectures on the life of Jesus, which were
then first published. . ' From 1865 to 1872 Strauss resided
in Darmstadt, where he made the personal acquaintance
of the princess Alice and the crowH-princess of Germany,
receiving from both ladies many marks of esteem. ^In
1870 he published his lectures on Voltaire (3d ed., 1872),
which were written for the princess Alice and delivered
before her. In the woris of these years it seemed that
the truth of Christianity had become still more problematic
to Strauss, and this was more obvious than ever in his next
and last important work, his confession, and final summary
answer to the four great questions — Are we Christians 1
Have we still religion? What is our conception of the
world? How are we to regulate our lives ? {Der Alte uyid
der Neue Glaube, 1872, 11th ed., 1881, English translation
by M. Blind, 1873). The work produced a greater sensa-
tion than his first Life of Jesus, and not least amongst
Strauss's o^vn friends, who wondered at his one-sided view
of Christianity, his professed abandonment of all spiritual
philosophy, the strange inconsistencies of' his thought, his
scientific credulity, and the ofEensive form of his negations.
To the fourth edition of the book he added a Nachwort
(lis Vorwort (1873). The same year symptoms of a fatal
malady appeared, and death followed February 7, 1874.
Though his last book renounced in almost frivolous lan-
guage the hope of immortality, he read Plato's Phxdo in
the Greek during his last days, and Zeller says " his friends
hade him adieu with feelings such as Plato has described
at the end of that dialogue."
Strauss's mind was' almost exclusively analytical and critical,
without depth of religious feeling, or 'philosophical penetration, or
historical sympathy. His work was accordingly rarely construct-
ive, and, save when he was dealing with a kindred spirit, he failed as
an historian, biographer, and critic, strikingly illustrating Goethe's
profoundly true principle that loving sympathy is essential for
productive criticism. His first Life of Jesus was directed against
■not only the traditional orthodox view of the Gospel narratives,
but likewise the rationalistic treatment of them, whether after the
manner of Reiraarus or that of Paulus. The mythical theory
that the Christ of the Gospels, excepting the most meagre outline
of personal history, was the unintentional creation of the early
Christian Messianic .expectation he applied with mercUess rigour
and mechanical inconsideration to the narratives. But his opera-
tions were based upon fatal defects, positive and negative. He
held a narrow theory as to the miraculous, a still narrower as to
the relation of the divine to the human, and he had no true idea of
the nature of historical tradition, while, as C. F. Baur complained,
his critique of the Gospel history had not been preceded by the
essential preliminary critique of the Gospels themselves. 'With a
broader and deeper philosophy of religion, juster canons of historical
criticism, with a more exact knowledge of the date and origin of
the Gospels, his rigorous application of the mythical theory with
its destructive results would have been impossible. In his second
Life of Jesus, though conceding something to G. F. Baur, he adheres
substantially to his mythical theory, while he seeks to make good
one defect of the first Life by supplying a previous examination of the
Gospels. But this examination shows little independent research,
being scarcely more than the adoption of the conclusions of C. F.
Baur and his earlier disciples. Another advance on the first work
is the addition of a sketch of the historical facts of the life of
Jesus and of his religious character, but he adheres to his early
limited and shallow view of the relation of the dirine and the
fcuman, and still fails to apprehend the true mission of the founder
of the Christian religion. But the estimate of the religious mission
oi Josus, and of the historical trustworthiness of the Gospels, is far
nlglier in this Life than the final one in Der AUe mid der Ncue
Glaiibc. A.S iu his philosophical developmetri he exhibited waver-
ing uncertauity, so it is impossible to reconcile his views of Clixirt
ami Christianity at different periods of his lire. Some of tlie
expressions of his last book iu this respect are in glaring contrast
with the positions he maintained iu earlier years.
Strauss's works nie published in n collected edition In 12 vols., by ZcDcr,
Bonn, lS7i;-7«, witliout liis OtrUlfidte Uogiiialtk. On liis life and wotlts seo
Zcllel'-'s David Friclricli Strauss in $eincm Leben wid seinen Scftri/ten, honn,
IST-l ; A. Hausratli's J>. F, SCrauss und rtie Thealogie seitier Zeif, -1 vols., Heidel-
berg, 1876-7S; ills own cssrty on Julius Kerner; r. J. Visclier's Kritiuhe Gunge,
1. 3. Karl Scluv.nrz, Zitr Geschichte der neuesten Tlieolo'jie, 4tli ed., ISCLJ; Hcin-
ricli Lung. HeligtQSe Keden, vol. ii.; Dorner, Gescltic/tte der protes'niitiselie-'
Theologie, 1S7C: Isippold, Handhnck tier neuesten Kirchengeschicfite, 18iJS«; J. H.
Scholien, ■• Strauss and Christianity," in Theological Revieu, 1S74. Jan. and April:
Hase, Geschichte Jesa. If^lG. give critiques from different points of viewr of Strauss's
thfculofiical worlts, particularly his Lives of Jesus. (J. F. S.)
STRAUSS, JoHANN (1804-1849), orchestral conductor
and composer of dance-music, was born at Vienna, Marcl
14, 1804. In 1819 he obtained his first engagement as t
violinist in a small band then playing at the Sperl, in
the Leopoldstadt. Shortly afterwards he joined Lanner,
with whom he remained associated as deputy-conductor
until 1825, when he organized a little band of fourteen
performers on his own account. It was during the
carnival of 1826 that Strauss inaugurated his loDg_ linr
of triumphs by introducing his band to the public of
Vienna at the Schwan, in the Rossau suburb, ■>vhere
his famous Tauberl-Waher (op. 1) at once established his
reputation as the best composer of dance-music then living.j
Upon the strength of this success he was invited back
to the Sperl, where he accepted an engagement, with an
increased orchestra, for six years. Soon after this he was
appointed kapellmeister to the 1st Burger regiment, and
entrusted with the duty of providing the music for the
court balls ; while the number of his private engagements
was so great that he found it necessary to enlarge his
band from time to time until it consisted of more than
two hundred performers. In 1833 he began a long and
extended series of tours throughout northern Europe,
eventually visiting England in 1838. In Paris he associatec^
himself with Musard, whose quadrilles became not much
less popular than his own waltzes; but his greatest successes
were achieved in London, where he arrived in time for the
coronation of Queen Victoria, and played at seventy-two
pubHc concerts, besides innumerable balls and other pri-
vate entertainments. The fatigue of these long journeys
seriously injured Strauss's health; but he soon resumed
his duties at the Sperl; and on May 5, 1840 he removed
with his band to the Imperial " Volksgarten," which thence-
forth became the scene of his most memorable successes.
Those who enjoyed the privilege of hearing him conduct
there could never forget the wonderful delicacy of the per-
formance, over which the master presided with a, quiet
power which ensured the perfection of every minutest
nuance. In 1844 Strauss began another extensive series
of tours. In 1849 he revisited London, and, after his fare-
well concert, was escorted down the Thames by a squadron
of boats, in one of which a band played tunes in his honour.
This was his last public triumph. On his return to Vienna
he was attacked with scarlet fever, of which he died. Sep-'
tember 25, 1849.
■ Strauss was survived by three sons, — Johann (bom 1825), Joseph
(lS'27-1870), and Edward (bom 1835), all of whom have distin-
guished'themselves as composers of dance-music, and assisted in
recruiting the ranks and perpetuating the traditions of the still
famous band.
STRAUSS-DURCKHEIM, Herctjle (b. 1790, d. 1865),
an eminent French entomologist, was the author of ana-
tomical works of exquisite precision and fulness of detail.
Two of these (his monographs of the anatomy of the cock-
chafer and of the cat) are .permanent classics, of which the
influence has aided greatly in, raising the standard of
zoological works.
STRAWBERRY (Fragaria). Apart irom lis interest
as a dessert fruit (see Horticulture, vol. xii. p. 276), the
strawberry has claims to attention by reason of the pecu-
S T R — S T R
593
Siarities of its structure and the excellent illustrations it
offers of the inherent power of variation possessed by the
plant jnd of the success of the gardener in availing himself
of this teiidencj. The genus Fragaria consists of a small
number (three to four, according to Hooker) of species,
native of the temperate regions of \)oth hemispheres, as
uell as of mountain districts in warmer climes. The tufted
■haracter of the plant, and its habit of sending out long
-lender branches (runners) which ' produce a new bud at
the extremity, are well known. The leaves are usually
palmately three-parted, but the number of leaflets may bo
increased to five or reduced to one. While the flower has
the typical Rosaceous structure, the so-called fruit is very
peculiar, but it may be understood by the contrast it pre-
sents with the "hip " of the rose. In the last-named plant
the top of the flower-stalk expands as it grows into a vase-
shaped cavity, the " hip," within which are concealed the
true fruits or seed-vessels. In The rose the extremity of
the floral axis is concave and bears the carpels in its
interior. In the strawberry the floral axis, instead of
becoming concave, swells out into a fleshy, dome-shaped or
itattened mass in which the carpels or true fruits, commonly
called pips or seeds, are more or less imbedded but never
■wholly concealed. A ripe strawberry in fact may be
aptly compared to the " fruit " of a rose turned inside
out.
The common wild strawberry of Great Britain, which
indeed is found throughout Europe and great part of
North America, is F. vesca, and this was the first species
brought under cultivation in the early part of the 1 7th
century. Later on other species were introduced, such as
F. elatior, a European species, the parent stock of the
Siautbois strawberries, and especially F. virginiana from
the United States and F. chiloensis from Chiloe. From-
these species, crossed and recrossed in various manners,
have sprung the vast number of different varieties now
•enumerated in catalogues, whose characteristics are so
inextricably blended that the attempt to trace their exact
parentage or to follow out their lineage has become impos-
sible. It must suiEce to say that the varieties at present
•cultivated vary in the most remarkable degree in size,
colour, flavour, shape, degree of fertility, season of ripen-
ing, liability to disease, and constitution of plant. Some,
as previously stated, vary in foliage, others produce no
runners, and some vary materially in the relative develop-
ment of their sexual organs, for, while in. most cases the
flowers are in appearance hermaphrodite, at least in struc-
ture, there is a very general tendency towards a separation
of the sexes, so that the flowers are males or females only
as to function, even although they may be perfect in con-
struction. This tendency to diccoism is a common charac-
teristic among Ronacew, and sometimes proves a source
of disappointment to the cultivator, who finds his plants
barren where he had hoped to gather a crop. This happens
in the United States more frequently than in Britain, but
when recognized can readily be obviated by planting male
varieties in the vicinity of the barren kinds. Darwin, in
I alluding to the vast amount of variability in the so-called
' " fruit," — a change efl!'ected by the art of the horticulturist
in less than three centuries, — contrasts with this variability
the fixity and permanence of character presented by the
true fruits, or pips, which are distributed over the surface
of the swollen axis. The will and art of the gardener have
been directed to the improvement of the one organ, while
he has devoted no attention to the other, which conse-
quently remains in the same condition as in the wild plant.
Too much stress is not, however, to be laid on this point,
for it must bo remembered that, the foliage, which is not
specially an object of the gardener's "selection." neverthe-
less varies considerably.
STRAW MAJSrUFACTURES. Straw forms the raw
material of some not unimportant industries. It serves for
the thatching of roofs, for a paper-making material, for or-
namenting small surfaces as a "straw mosaic," for plaiting
into door and table mats, mattresses, <tc., and for weaving
and plaiting into light baskets, artificial flowers, &c. These
applications, however, are insignificant in comparison with
the place occupied by straw as a raw material for the straw
bonnets and hats worn by both sexes. Of the various
materials which go to the fabrication of plaited head-gear
the most important is wheaten straw. It is only in certain
areas that straw suitable for making plaits is produced.
The straw must have a certain length of "pipe" between
the knots, must possess a clear delicate golden colour, and
must not be brittle. The most valuable straw for plaits
is grown in Tuscany, and from it the well-known Tuscan
plaits and Leghorn hats are made. The straw of Tuscany,
specially grown for plaiting, is distinguished into three
qualities. — Poniederas Semone being the finest, Mazsuolo
the second quality, from which the bulk of the plaits are
made, while from the third quality, Santa Fioro, only
" Tuscan pedals " and braids are plaited. The wheat-seed
for these straws is sown very thickly on comparatively
elevated and arid land, and it sends up long attenuated
stalks. When the grain in the ear is about half developed
the straw is pulled up by the roots, dried in the sun, and
subsequently spread out for several successive days to be
bleached under the influence of alternate sunlight and
night-dews. The pipe of the upper joint alone is selected
for plaiting, the remainder of the straw being used for
other purposes. These pipes are made up in small
bandies, bleached, in sulphur fumes in a closed chest,
assorted into sizes, and so prepared for the plaiters.
Straw plaiting is a domestic industry among the women
and young children of Tuscany and some parts of Emilia.
Tuscan plaits and hats vary enormously in quality and
value ; the plait of a hat of good quality may represent
the work of four or five days, while hats of the highest
quality may each occupy six to nine months in making.
The finest work is excessively trying to the eyes of the
plaiters, who can at most give to it two or three hours'
labour daily. The exports of plaits and manufactured
hats from Leghorn average in value £480,000 annually,
about one half of the goods going to America.
The districts around Luton in Bedfordshire and the
neighbouring counties have, since the beginning of the
17th century, been the British home of the straw-plait
industry. The straw of certain varieties of wheat culti-
vated in that region is, in favourable seasons, possessed of
a fine bright colour and due tenacity and strength. The
straw is cut as in ordinary harvesting, but is allowed to
dry in the sun before binding. Subsequently straws are
selected from the sheaves, and of these the pipes of the
two upper joints are taken for plaiting. The pipes are
assorted into sizes by passing them through graduated
openings in a grilled wire frame, and those of good colour
are bleached by the fumes of sulphur. Spotted and dis-
coloured straws are dyed either in pipe or in plait. The
plaiters work up the material in a damp state, either into
whole straw or split straw plaits. Sjilit straws are pre-
pared with the aid of a small instrument having a project-
ing point which enters the straw pipe, and from which
radiate the number of knife-edged cutters into which the
straw is to bo split. The plaiting of straw in the Lutoti
district formerly gave employment to many thousands oi
women and young children ; but now vast quantities of
jilaits are imported at a very cheap rate from Canton in
China. The result is that, while the Luton trado ia
extending, the number of persons it there gives occupation
is greatly dimini.'jhed. In 1871 about 50,000 pci •"-*
594
S T R — « T H
were employed in tk" straw industry, and in 1881 the
number was only about 31,000. The plaits are sewed
partly by hand and in a special sewing-machine, and the
hats or bonnets are finished by stiffening with gelatin
size, and blocking into shape with the aid of beat and
powerful pressure, according to the dictates of fashion.
The annual output of the straw-plait industry in England
is estimated to amount in value to about £4,000,000.
In the United States straw-plait work is principally
centred in the State of Massachusetts.
Many substances besiilcs straw are worked into plaits acd braiils
for bonnets. Among tbese may be noticed thin strips of willow
and cane, and the fronds of numerous palms. "Brazilian" hats
made from tho fronds of tlio palmetto palms, Sabal PalTwtto and
S. mczkann, are now largely made at St Albans. The famous
Panama hats, fine qualities of which at one time were worth
f.20 to £30 each, are made from the leaves of the screw pine,
Cadurlcvica jmlmnta. They are now manufactured at Dresden,
Strasljurg, and Nancy, and can be purchased at 30s. or[£2.
STREET, George Edmund (1834-1881), one of the
ablest architects of the present century, was born at
Woodford in Esse.^ in 1824. He obtained his archi-
tectural education in the ofSce of Mr Owen Carter at
'Winchester, and afterwards worked for five years as an
"improver" with Sir G. G. Scott in London. At an
early age Street became deeply interested in the principles
of Gothic architecture, and devoted an unsparing amount
of time and labour to studying and sketching the finest
examples of media2val buildings in England and on the
Continent. He was a draughtsman of a very high order ;
his sketches are masterpieces of spirit and brilliant touch.
In 1855 he published a very careful and well illustrated
work on The Brick and Marble Architecture of Northern
Italy, and in 1865 a book on The Gothic Architecture of
Spain, with very beautiful drawings by his own hand.
Street's personal taste led him in most cases to select for
his design the 13th-century Gothic of England or France,
his knowledge of which was very great, especially in the
skilfai use of rich mouldings. By far the majority of the
buildings erected by him were for ecclesiastical uses, the
chief being the convent of East Grinstead, the theological
college at Cuddesden, and a very large number of churches,
such as St Philip and St James's at 0.xford, St John's at
Torquay, All Saints at Clifton, St Saviour's at East-
bourne, St Margaret's at Liverpool, and St Mary ilag-
dalene, Paddington. His largest works were the nave of
Bristol cathedral, the choir of the cathedral of Christ
Church in Dublin, and, above all, the new Courts of
Justice in London, second only in architectural import-
ance (during this century) to the Houses of Parliament.
After a prolonged competition Street was appointed
architect to the Courts of Justice in 1868; but the
building was not complete at the time of his death in
December 1881. A great deal of somewhat unfair criti-
cism has been lavished on this building; but it should
be remembered that Street was much hampered both by
want of a sufficiently large site and by petty economies in
money insisted on by the commissioner of works. Though
perhaps deficient in unity of composition, this great build-
ing possesses much grace in its separate parts, and has
great refinement of detail throughout. Street was elected
I an associate of the Eoyal Academy in 1866 and K.A. in
I 1871 ; at the time of his death he was professor of history
to the Royal Academy, and had just finished a very
interesting course of lectures on the development of medi-
ajval architecture. He was also a member of the Royal
Academy of Vienna, and a knight of the Legion of Honour.
His somewhat sudden death, on December 18, 1881, was
hastened by over-work and professional worries connected
with the erection of the law courts. He was buried in the
nave of Westminster Abbey, where his grave is marked by
a handsome sepulchral brass designed by Mr Bodley.
STREETS. See Roads.
STEENGTH OF MATEKIALS
1. fTIHE name "strength of materials" is given to that
JL part of the theory of engineering which deals with
the nature and effects of stresses in the parts of engineering
structures. Its principal object is to determine the proper
size and form of pieces which have to bear given loads,
or, conversely, to determine the loads which can be safely
applied to pieces whose dimensions and arrangement are
already given. It also treats of the relation between the
applied loads and the changes of form which they cause.
The subjec; comprises experimental investigation of the
properties of materials as to strength and elasticity, and
mathematical discussion of the stresses in ties, struts,
beams, shafts, and other elements of structures and
machines.
2. Stress is the mutual action at tho surface of contact between
two bodies, or two imaginary parts of a body, whereby each of
the two exerts a force upon the other. Thus, when a stone lies on
tho ground there is at the surface of contact a stress, one, aspect
of which is the force directed downwards with which the stone
pushes the ground, and the other aspect is the equal force directed
upwards with which the ground pushes the stone. A body is said
to bo in a state of stress when there ia a stress between the two parts
which lie on opposite sides of an imaginary surface of section.
A jiillar or block supporting a weight is in a state of stiess be-
cause at any cross section the part above the section pushes down
against the part below, and the part below pushes up against the
part above. A stretched rope is in a state of stress, because at any
cross section the part on each side is pulling the part on the other
side with a force in the direction of the rope's length. A plate of
uictal that is being cut in a shearing machine is in a state of stress,
because at the plane which is about to become the plane o.f actual
section tho portion of metal on each side is tending to drag the
portion on the other side with a force in that plane.
3. In a solid body which is in a state of stress the direction of Nom
stress at an imaginary surface of division may be normal, oblique, and t
or tangential to the surface. 'When oblique it is often con- genti:
veniently treated as consisting of a normal and a tangential com- stress
ponent. Normal stress may be either jjush (compressive stress) or
pull (tensile stress). Stress which is tangeutial to the surface is
called shearing stress. Oblique stress may be regarded as so much
push or pull along with so much shearing stress. The amount of
stress per unit of surface is called the intensity of stress. Stress is
said to be uniformly distributed over a surface when each fraction
of the area of surface bears a corresponding fraction of the whole
stress If a stress P is uniformly distributed over a plane surface of
area S, the intensity is P/S . If the stress is not uniformly distrib-
uted, the intensity at any point is SP/SS, where 5P is the amount
of stress on an indefinitely small area 5S at the point considered.
For practical purposes intensity of stress is usually expressed in
tons weight per square inch, pounds weight per sqnare inch, or kilo-
grammes weight per square millimetre or per square centimetre.'
4. The simplest possible state of stress is that of a short pilla*
or block compressed by opposite forces applied at its ends, or thrJ
of a stretched rope or other tie. In these cases the stress is whollj
in one direction, that .of the length. These states may be distin
guished as simple longitudinal push and simple longitudinal pull
In them there is no stress on planes parallel to the direction of thi
applied forces.
A more complex state of stress occurs if the block is compressed
or extended by forces applied to a pair of opposite sides, as well as
by forces applied to its ends, — that is to say, if two simple longi-
tudinal stresses in different directions act together. A still more
complex state occurs if a third-stress be applied to the remaining
pair of sides. It may be shox\'n that any state of stress which can
possibly exist at any point of a body may be produced by the joint
action of three simple pull or push stresses in three suitably
chosen directions at right angles to each other." These three are
1 One ton per sq. in. =2240 lb per sq. Id.:
2 See Elasticitt, toL vil. p. 819.
;1-5I1 kilos, per eq. mm.
«'lliJi^NGTH OFMATEKTALS
595
Fig. 2.
•»
4 e
\
."«
1 c
P.
Fig. 3.
jailed pnncipal stresses, and their directionp are called the axes of
principal stress. These axes have the important property that the
intensity of stress along cue of them is greater, and
along another it is less, than in any other direction.
Those are called respectively t'.e axes of greatest and
least principal stress.
5. Betorning now to the case of a single simple
loD;.;itudiual stress, let AB (fig. 1) be a portion of a
tie or a strut which is heing puUed or pushed in the
direction of the axis AB with a total stress P. On
any plane CD .taken at right angles to the axis we
have a normal pull or pn«h of intensity p = P/S, S
being the area of the normal cross-section. On a plane
EF whose normal is inclined to the axis at an arigle 0
we have a stress still in the direction of the axis, and
therefore oblique to the plane EF, of intensity P/S',
where S' is the area of the surface EF, or S/cosO. The
whole stress P on EF may be resolved into two com-
ponents, one normal to EF, and the other a shearing
stresB tangential to EF. The normal component (P„, fig. 2) is
PcosS; the tangential component (P,) is Psiufl. Hence the inten-
sity of normal pull or push on EF, or p„, is 2) cos- 9, and
the intensity of shearing stress EF, or pi, is;)sinffcosS.
This expression makes p, a maximum when fl->45°:
planes inclined at 45° to the axis are called planes of
maximum shearing stuess ; the intensity of shearing stress
on them is ip.
6. Shearing stress in one direction is necessarily ac-
companied by an equal intensity of shearing stress in
another direction at right angles to the first. To prove
this it is sufficient to consider the equilibrinm of an indefinitely
small cube (fig. 3), with one pair of sides parallel to the direc-
tion of the shearing stress P,. This stress, act-
ing on two opposite sides, produces a couple
which tends to rotate the cube. No arrange-
ment of normal stresses on any of the three pairs
of sides of the cube can balance this couple ; that
Mn be done only by a shearing stress Q, whose
direction is at right angles to the first stress P(
and to the surface on which Pt acts, and whose
intensity is the same as that of Pi. The
shearing stresses P( and Qt may exist alone, or
•m components of oblique stress.
7. If they exist alone, the material is said to be in a state of simple
shearing stress. This state of stress may be otherwise described
by reference to the stresses on diagonal planes of the cube ABCD.
Thus P, and Qt produce a normal stress R on a diagonal plane,
and the equilibrium of
the triangular prism "'•♦•
(fig. 4) requires that
B-P,V2- But R acts
on a surface which is
greater than each of
the sides in the ratio
of \/'Z : 1. The inten-
sity of normal stress
on the diagonal plane
AC is therefore the same as the intensity of shearing stress on AB
or BC. The same considerations apply to the other diagonal plane
BD at right angles to AC, with this dillerence, that the stress on
it is normal pull instead of push Hence we may regard a state of
simple shearing stress as compounded of two simple longitudinal
stressea, one of push and one of pull, at right angles to each other,
of equal intensity, and inclined at 45° to the direction of the'shcar-
ing stress.
8. Strain is the change of shape produced by stress. If the
stress is a simple longitudinal pull, the strain consists of lengthen-
ing in the direction of the pull, accompanied by contraction in
both directions at right angles to the pull. If the stress is a simple
push, the strain consists of shortening in tLe direction of the push
and expansion in both directions at right angles to that ; the stress
and the strain are then exactly the reverse of what they are in the
case of simple pull. If the stress is one of simple shearing, tlie
strain consists of a distortion such as would bo produced by the
eliding of layers in the direction of the shearing stresses.
A material is elastic with regard to any applied stress if the
strain disappears when the stress is removed. Strain which per-
»i«'j> after the stress that produced it is removed is calleil perma-
Dent set. For brevity, it is convenient to speak of strain which
di.s3ppcars when the stress is removed as elastic strain.
0. Actual materials are generally very perfectly clastic with
regard to small stresses, and very imperfectly elastic with regard
to great stresses. If the applied stress is less than a c.-rtuin limit,
the strain is in general small in amount, and disappears wholly
or almost wholly when the stress is removed. If the np|)licd
•tress exceeds this limit, the strain is, in general, much greater
than before, and the principal part of it is found, when the stress
13 removed, to oonsiat of permanent ?ot. The limits of Btre»
within which strain is wholly or almost wholly elastic are called
limits of elasticity.
For any particular mode of stress the limit of elasticity is much
more shar|ily defined in some materials than in otheis. 'Whea
well defined it may readily be recognized in the testing of a sample
from the fact that after the stress ixceeds the limit of elasticity the
strain begins to increase in a much more rapid ratio to the stress
than before. This characteristic goes along with the one already
mentioned, that up to the limit the strain is whoUy or almost
wholly cl.istic.
10. Within the limits of elasticity the strain produced by 8
stress of any one kind is proportional to the sti'ess producing it.
This is Hooke's law, enunciated by him in 1076
In applying Hooke's law to the case of simple longitudinal strte^
— such as the case of a bar stretched by simple longitudinal pull,—
we may measure the state of strain by the change of length pet
unit of original length which the bar undergoes when stressed.
Let the original length be I, and let the whole change of length h»
SI when a stress is applied whose intensity p is witnia the elastio
limit. Then tlie strain is measured by HII, and this by Hooke'A
law is proportional to p. This may be written
il:l::p: E,
where E is a constant for the particular material considered.^ Th»
same value of E applies to push and to pull, these modes of stress
being essentially continuous, and differing only in sign.
11. This constant E is called the modulus of longitudinal
extensibility, or Young's modulus. Its value, which is expressed
in the same units as are used to express intensity of stress, may be
measured directly by exposing a long sample of the material to
longitudinal pull and noting the extension, or indirectly by
measuring the flexure of a loaded beam of the material, or by ex-
periments on the frequency of vibrations. It is frequently spokeD
of by engineers simply as the modulus of elasticity, but this name
is too general, as there are other moduluses applicable to other
modes of stress. Since E=pl/Sl, the modulus may be defined as the
ratio of the intensity of stress p to the longitudinal strain Sl/l.
12. In the case of simple shearing stress, tlie strain may be
measured by the angle by which each of the four originally right
angles iu the square prism of fig. 3 is altered by the distortion of
the prism. Let this angle be <^ in radians; then by-Hooke's law
pI'P = C, where ^ is the intensity of shearing, stress and C is a con-
staut which measures the rigidity of the material. C is called ths
modulus of rigidity, and is usually determined by exneriments on
torsion.
13. When three simple stresses of equal intensity p and of the
same sign (all pulls or all pushes) are applied in three directions,
the material (provided it be isotropic, that is to say, provided its
properties arc the same in all directions) suffers change of volume
only, without distortion of form. If the volume is V and the change
of volume SV, the ratio of the stress^ to the sti'ain 8V/V is called
the modulus of cubic compressibility, and will be denoted by K.
The state of stress here considered is the only one possible in •
fluid at rest. The intensity of stress is equal.in all directions.
14. Of these three moduluses the one of most importance ib
engineering applications is Young's modulus E. When a simple
longitudin.ll pull or push of intensity p is applied t« a piece, the
longitudinal strain of extension or compression is pfE,. This is
accoiiipanied by a lateral contraction or expansion, in each trans-
verse direction, whose amount may be written pjn'E, where «■ is the
ratio of longitudinal to lateral strain. It is shown in'the articl*
ELAS-noiTr,§47^thatE--i^and<T- """■ "
2(3K + C)
3'K-2C
.SK-fC
15. Beyond the limits of elasticity the relation of strain to stress
becomes very indefinite. Materials then exhibit, to a greater or
less degree, the property of plasticity. The strain is much afiected
by the length of time during which the stress has been in ojn-ra-
tion, and reaches its maximum, for any assigned stress, only after a
long (probably an indefinitely long) time. Finally, when the8tr««
13 sufficiently increased, the ratio of the iucremeut of strain, to t***
increment of stress becomes indefinitely great if lime is given fo»
the stress to take effect. In other words, the substanc« (hea
assumes what may bo called a completely plastic state ; It fioK>
under the applied stress like a viscous liiiuid.
16. The vUimalc strcnglh of a material with regard to any stated
mode of stress is the stress required to produce rupture. In rcckou-
ing ultimate strength, however, engineers tiike, npt the actual in-
tensity of stress at Which rupture occurs, but the value which thi«
intensity would have reached had runture ensued without previiius
alteration of shape. Thus, if a bar whose original cross-section is %
square inches breaks under a uniformly distributed pull of GO tons,
the ultimate tensile strength of the material is reckoned to bo 80 tuns
per squai J inch, although ll'"actiinl intensity of strcsswhiohproduced
rupture may have been much greater than this, owing to llu- onn-
traction of the section previous to fracture. The coiiveiil .o: U
this usage will be obvious from an example. Suppus^ tliut a i/i.v;*
596
STRENGTH OF 3IATEIIIALS
of material of the same quality Le used in a structure under con-
ditious which cause it to bear a simple pul! of 6 tons per square
inch ; we conclude at once that the actual load is one-fifth of that
which would cause rupture, irrespective of the extent to which the
material miglit contract in section if overstrained. The stresses
which occur in engineering practice are, or ought to be, in all cases
■within the limits of elasticity, and within these limits the change
of cross-section caused by longitudinal pull or push is so small that
it may be neglected in reckoning the intensity of stress.
Ultimate tensile strength and ultimate shearing strength are
well defined, since these modes of stress (simple pull and simple
shearing stress) lead to distinct fracture if the stress is sufRciently
increased. Under compression some materials yield so continu-
ously that their ultimate strength to resist compression can scarcely
he specified ; others show so distinct a fracture by crushing (§43
telow) that their compressive strength may be determinedwith
some precision. In what follows, the three kinds of ultimate
strength will he designated by the symbols/,, /„ and/t, for tension,
shearing, and crushing respectively.
Some of the materials used in engineering, notably timber and
wroiightiron, are so far from being isotropic that their strength
is widely difl'erent for stresses in different directions. In the case
of wrought-iion the process of rolling develops a fibrous s'tructure
on account of the presence of streaks of slag which become inter-
spersed with the metal in puddling ; and the tensile strength of a
rolled plate is found to be cousiderably greater in the direction of
rolling than across the plate. Steel plates, being rolled from a
nearly homogeneous ingot, have nearly the same strength in both
directions.
17. In applying a knowledge of the ultimate strength of materials
to determine the proper sizes of parts in an engineering stnicture,
these parts are proportioned so that the greatest intensity of stress
(which, for brevity is called the working stress) will be only a cer-
,,,.,, ,, m, 1- ultimate strength
tain fraction of the ultimate strength. The ratio ^^^j^^ ^j.^^^^
IS called the factor of safety.^ The choice of ft factor of safety
depends on many considerations, such as the probable accuracy of
the theory on which the calculation of working stress has been
based ; the uniformity of the material dealt with, and the extent
to which its strength may be expected to conform to the assumed
value or to the values determined by experiments on samples ;
the deviations from the specified dimensions which may be caused
by bad workmanship ; the probable accuracy in the estimation of
loads ; the extent to which the materials wUl deteriorate in time.
The factor is rarely less than 3, is very commonly i or 5, and is
sometimes as much as 12, or even more.
The ultimate strength for any one mode of stress, such as simpls
pull, has been found to depend on the time rate at which stress is
applied ; this will be noticed mere fully later (§§ 28-34). It has
also been found to depend very greatly on the extent and frequency
of variation in the applied stress. A stress considerably less than
the normal ultimate strength will suffice to break a piece when it
is frequently applied and removed ; a much smaller stress will
cause rupture if its sign is frequently reversed ; and hence in a
structure which has to bear what is called live load the permis-
sible intensity of stress is less than in a structure which has to
bear only load and also on its frequency of variation (§§ 45, 46
below).
18. From an engineering point of view, the structural merit of
a material, especially when live loads and possible shocks have to
be sustained, depends not only on the ultimate strength but also
on the extent to which the material will bear deformation without
rupture. This characteristic is shown in tests made to determine
tensile strength by the amount of ultimate elongation, and also by
the contraction of the cross-section which occurs through the flow
of the metal before rupture. It is often tested in other ways,
such as by bending and unbending bars in a circle of specified
radius, or by examining the effect of repeated blows. Tests by
impact are generally made by causing a weight to fall through a
regulated distance on a piece of the material supported as a beam.
19. Ordinary tests of strength are made by submitting the piece
to direct pull, direct compression, bending, or torsion. Testing
machines are frequently arranged so that they may apply any of these
four modes of stresss ; testa by direct tension are the most common.
Fig. 6.
mcksteed's Slnglo-Lever Testing Machine.
and next to them come tests by bending. When the samples to be
tested for tensile strength are mere wires, the stress may be applied
directly by weights ; for pieces of larger section some mechanical
multiplication of force becomes necessary. Owing to the plasticity
of the materials to be tested, the applied loads must be able to
follow considerable change of form in the test-piece ; thus in test-
ing the tensile strength of wrought-iron or steel provision must be
made for taking up the large extension of length which occurs
before fracture. In most modem forms of large testing machines
the loads are applied by means of hydraulic pressure acting on a
piston or plunger to which one end of the specimen is secured, and
the stress is measured by connecting the other end to a lever or
system of levers provided with adjustable weights. In small
^ French eugineers nsually estimate the permissible working stress as a
i-ertaln fraction of the elastic strength (that is, of the stress which reaches the
Umlt of elasticity), instead of estimating it as a certain fraction- o£ vba ultimate
etrenglb.
machines, and also in some large ones, the stress is applied by screw
gearing instead of by hydraulic pressure. Springs are sometimes
used instead of weights to measure the stress, and another plan is
to make one end of the specimen act on a diaphragm forming part
of a hydrostatic pressure-gauge (§ 23 below).
20 Figs. 5 and 6 show an excellent form of smgle-lever testing
machine designed by Mr J. H. Wicksteed,' in which the stress is
applied by an hydraulic plunger and is measured by a lever or
steelyard and a movable weight. The illustration shows a
30-ton machine, but machines of similar design have been built
to exert a force of 100 tons or more. AA is the lever, on which
there is a graduated scale. The stress on the test-piece T is
measured by a weight W of 1 ton (with an attached vernier scale),
which is moved along the lever by a screw-shaft S; this screw-
shaft is driven by a belt from a parallel shaft R, which takes
' Proc imt. ifech. Eng., August 1882.
STRENGTH OF MATERIALS
its motion, through hevel-whecls and a Hooke's joint in the
axis of the fulcium, from the hand-wheel H. (The Hooke s
ioint in the shaft R is shown in a sci>arate sketcli above the
Ipvpr ill fi" 6.) The holder for the upper end of the sample
lancs fronT'a knife-edge three inches from the fulcrum of
the lever The lower holder is jointed to a crosshead O,
which is' connected by tw vertical screws to a lover cross-
1 ead B upon which the hydraulic plunger P, showTi m sec-
tion in' fie 5, exerts its thrust. G is a counterpoise which
T,n,he3 UP the plunger, when the water is allowed to escape.
Cdraulic pressure may be q^plied to P by pumps or by an
fccumulaton In the present instance it is applied by means of
an auxiliary plunger Q, which is pressed
by screw gearing into an a>i-x'liary cy-
linder. Q is driven by a belt on the
nnllev D This puts stress on the .„,„,.,^j^
l^'lLl^ni the'weight ^ - thenp^f ^
run out along the lever so that ho ^ .
lever is just kept floating bebveen the 'j^^^
stoDsE E. Before the test-piece IS put mfM-mi
ti!C'distance between the holders is
reflated by means of the screws con-
necting the upper and lower cross- Fig. 7.
heads C and «' t\"° ^t^F Fil 7 is a section of one of the
turned by a handle apple^d at ^.^ig-^ ^^^^^^^^
S"" thTl^nil^rdgirarrm^riong en^uilfto prevent the
l?tfs-?^^sT^.::^-onf:nrn-.tLo^^^
ached t^oTe^hort verticaUrm of a bell-cank lever whose ful-
ornm is nushed out horizontally by an hydraulic ram.' In
uTv other t sting machines a system of two three, or more
Ps j;*Lployed^to "d- the force >e^^^^^^^^^^^
l\^sTiro™>laio?Wade'ttliihVnTend of the specimen was
1 1 iVn , five 1 innnort and the stretch was taken up by screwing
:„ the fulcrum^arof one of the levers In most multiple-lever
machines however, the fulcrums are fixed, and the stress is applied
tTone end of the specimen by hydraulic power or by screw gearing,
vhich of course tak^es up theitretch, as in the^-gf-^r machine
alreadv described Mr K rkaldy, who was one ot the earliest as
welTaf one oFtt most assiduous workers in this field, applies m
his 1 000 000 ft machine a horizontol hydraulic press directly to
.ne end of the horizontal test-piece. The other end of^e piece is
onnected to the short vertical arm of a bell-crank lever; the long,
iTof this lever is horizontal, and is connected to a second lever
trwhich Wrights are applied. In -me of Messrs Fairbanks ^
u- *i „,,,u;T^ln Ipvpr svstem IS carried so lar tnat tne point
oTS^Hcl o'^n" t?e 5^^^ ^-'f- far as the point
: attociimen? to the test°piece. The same makers ^J-e employed
a plan of adjusting automatically the position of the measuring
weH by making the scale lever complete an eectnc circuit when
fsesor^falls so°that it starts an electro '"g^^ef^'^ ™°^/J^
weicht out or In.^ Generally the measuring weight is adjusted by
3 In some chiefly small, machines the -eight adjusts itself
bv means of another device. It is hxed at one point of a lever
whidi is arranged as a pendulum, so that, when the test-piece is
pS by for f applied it the other end, the pendulum lever is de-
leted from its odginaUy vertical position and the weight acts with
'TurpteT'machines have the a^vantage^^at the measuring
weight is reduced to a convemently small value aj^d fat .t can
be easily varied to suit test-pieces of different strengths. On the
0 her hand, their multiplicity of joints makes l^e leverage som -
what uncertain and increases friction.. Another f ^"''^f '^l.""'
inertia of the working parts. It is ^f^^^l^'e to avo d osc 11a
tions of the levers ; and. to prevent them fT''" P'^'i^e "« ^P";"?^^
errors in the recorded stress, the inertia of the oscillating system
Zuld be minimized. In a testing --b/- in which the specimn
is directly loaded the inertia is simply that of the suspe iciea
eiglit M. In a luver machine which '"^'P'-es^ the weight »
times, the weight applied to the lever is reduced to W'. ^t i s
inertia when refcned to the test-piece, is (M/») x n- oi Un. ilie
nertla which is effective for producing -"illation is thus increased
n times, so far as the weight ''le"e is concerned and this detr,
mental eflVct of leverage is increased by the mert.a of the evers
themselves. Tho effect will be more senous the greater la the
'^''22"' Whitworth and others employ machines in which one end
of tho specimen is held in a fixed support; an hydrauhc press acts
59'
on the other end. and the stress is calculated from the prcssur*
of fluid in the press, this being observed by a pressure-gauge.
JLachines of this class are open to the obi-ious objection that the
friction of the hydraulic plunger causes a largo and very uncertain
ditference between the force exerted by the fluid on the plunger
and the force exerted by the plunger on the specimen. It appears,
however, that in the ordinary conditions of packing the friction
is very nearly proportional to the fluid pressure, and its effect may
tlierefore be allowed for with some exactness. _ The method is
not to be recommended for work requiring precision, unless the
plunger be kept in constant rotation on its own axis during tho
test.°in which case the effects of friction are almost entirely
eliminated.
23. In another important class ol: testing machines the stress
(applied as before to one end of the piece, by gearing or by
hydraulic pressure)
is mea.sured by con-
necting tho other
end. to a flexible dia-
phragm, on which a
liquid acts whose
pressure is deter-
mined by a gauge.
Fig. 8 shows a sim-
ple machine of this
class (used in 1873
for testing wire by-
Sir AV. Thomson and
the late Prof. F.
Jenkin). The wire
is stretched by means
of a screw at the
top, and pulls up
the lower side of a
hydrostatic bellows ;
water from the bel-
lows rises in the
gauge-tube G, and [
its height measures
the stress. Fig. 9
^. „ Kio. 8 —Hydraulic Machine for Testing Wire,
the stress, r ig. y *
is Thomasset's testing machine, in which one end of the speciniea
is pulled by an hydraulic press A. The other end acts through a
bell-crank lever B on a horizontal diaphragm C, consist-
ing of a metallic plate and a flexible ring of india-rubber.
The pressure on the diaphragm causes a column of mer-
cury to rise in the gauge-tube D. The same principle la
made use of in the testing machines of Chauvin and Mann-
"■1'^;::;C'!^r!:^::^"llo^:<^'. X^w Vovk, im. or van No.,ra„^'> ^"^'"«'-
tttg Hag.. )*S^.
Fio. 9.— Thomassct'a Testing ILichine.
Darbel. MaiUard.^and Bailey. Ith., 'f^^-i i'Xlrtorlr"ei;''-il'
plication in the remarkable testing machine of Waterto«narseua,
built n 1879 by the U.S. Government to tho designs of Mr A. L
Emery This is a horizontal machine, taking specimens of any
fe^t^-np to'30 feet, and exerting a pull of 360 tons or a push
steel counectmg plates instead of K^^'^ ''iges. ^ x
cation at the end of the scale beam >s 420.UU". ^.^ ^ „,„„,
21. The results of tests are very co^f o°\J exli.b tc y ^^
of Btress-strain diagrams, or diagrams *o,ungH^e^^^ ^^^
strain to stress. A few tyP'cal diagrams 'o.^ ^^_.o^ ^_.^ ^^^^^
steel in tension are given >" ^e- ?°' } ' T Up to the elastic limit
from tests of long rods l-T Mr Kirkaldy ^l -^^ f„, ^u the
these diagrams show sensibly tl>e «'™;- "'» 0 ^^ ^^^ .^
materials to which they refer. Soon al tr r , . ^■^ j^jj.
passed, a point, which has ^^en called by P - • I- ^ V^^^J^^ „j
point, is reached, which 13 inaili2£.by_a211i_ .
Enginccri, London, 1808 and 187".
593
STRENGTH UF MATERIALS
the specimen. After this the extension becomes less rapid ; then it
continues at ?. fairly regular and gradually increasing rate ; near
the point of rupture the metal again begins to draw out rapidly.
EXTENSION, PER CENT.
Fig. 10.
When this stage is reached rupture will occur through the flow of
the metal, even if the load be somewhat decreased. The diagram
may in this way be made to come back towards the line of no
load, by withdrawing a part of the load as the end of the test is
approached (§ 29 below).
25. Fig. 11 is a stress-strain dla^m for cast-iron in extension
and compression, taken from Hodgkinson's experiments.^ The
extension was. mea-
sured on a rod 50
feet long ; the com-
pression was also
measured on a long
rod, which was pre-
vented from buckl-
ing by being sup- ^
ported in a trough'*'
with ■ partitions.
The full line gives
he sti-ain produced
by loading ; it is
continuous through
the origin, showing
that Young's mod-
ulus is the same for
pult and push.
(Similar experi-
ments on wTought-
iron and steel in
extension and com-
pression have given
the same result.) ^'f- ^•
The broken line shows the set produced by each load. Hodgkinson
found that some set could be detected after even the smallest loads
bad been applied. This is probably due to the existence of initial
internal stress in the metal, produced by unequally rapid cooling
in different portions of the cast bar. A second loading of the
same piece showed a much closer approach to perfect elasticity.
The elastic limit is, at the best, ill defined ; but by the time the
ultimate load is reached the set has become a more considerable
part of the whole strain. The pull curves in the diagram extend
to the point of rupture ; the compression curves are drawn only
up to a stage at which the bar buckled (between the partitions) so
rrjich as to aii'ect the results.
26. Testing machines are now frequently fitted with autographic
appliances for dra^ving strain diagrams. When the load is meas-
ured by a weight travelling on a steelyard, the diagram may
be drawn by connecting the weight with a djum by means of a
wire or cord, so that the drum is made to revolve through angles
proportional to the travel of the weight. At the same fane
1 Rtport of tfi« Commusiotun on the ApptUation itfirm to Raiinag JStructuns,
another wire, fastened to a clip near one end of the specimen, and
passing over a pulley near the other end, draws a pencil through
distances proportional to the strain, and so traces a diagram of
stress and strain on a sheet of paper stretched round the drum.
Apparatus of this kind has been used by Jlessrs Fairbanks, Unwin,
Aspinall, and others.^ In Jlr Wicks"teed's autographic recorder
the stress is determined by reference, not to the load on the lever,
but to the pressure in the hydraulic cylinder by which stress
is applied. The main cylinder is in communication with a small
auxiliary hydraulic cylinder, the plunger of which is kept rotating
to avoid friction at its packing. This plunger abuts against a
spring, so that the distance through which it is pushed out varies
witb the pressure in the main cylinder. A drum covered with
paper moves with the plunger under a fixed pencil, and is also caused
to rotate by a wire from the specimen through distances propor-
tional to the strain. The scale of loads is calibrated by occasional
reference to the weighted lever.^ In Prof. Kennedy's macliine
autographic diagrams are drawn by applying the stress to the tc:.t-
piece through an elastic master-bar of larger section. The ma.'itcr-
bar is never strained beyond its elastic limit, and within that limit
its extension furnishes an accurate measure of the stress ; this givfs
motion to a pencO, which writes on a paper moved by the extension
of the test-piece.* In Prof. Thurston's pendulum machine f r
torsion tests, a cam attached to the pendulum moves a ppni.il
through distances propoitional to the stress, while a paper drum
attached to the other end of the test-piece turns under the nencil
through distances proportional to the angle of twist.'
27. The elastic extension or compression of a test-piece of ordinary
dimensions is so small as to require for ita measurement refineii
methods which are seldom employed in everyday practical testing.
Measurements of this class must be made simultaneously on oppo-
site sides of the test-piece, to guard against error through the bend-
ing of the piece. Microscopes and also various forms of micro-
meter calipers are used for the purpose.^ A method capable of
great delicacy, which has been used by Bauschinger' and others,
is to measure the strain by light reflected from a pair of small
mirrors attached to rollers which turn as the specimen extends or
contracts. With apparatus of this kind it may be shown that
iron, steel, or other materials with a well-defined yield-point begin
to show a marked defect of elasticity at a somewhat lower stress.
The true elastic limit comes considerably earlier in the test than
the point which usually passes by that name.'
28. In testing a plastic material such as wrought-iron or mild Viscca
steel it is found that the behaviour of the metal depends very
materially on the time rate at which stress is applied. When
once the elastic limit is passed the full strain corresponding to
a given load is reached only after a perceptible time, sometimes
even a long iime. If the load be increased to a value exceeding
the elastic limit, and then kept constant, the metal will be seen
to draw out (if the stress be one of pull), at first rapidly and then
more slowly. AVhen the applied load is considerably less than the
ultimate strength of the piece (as tested in the ordinary way by
steady increment of load), it appears that this process of slow
extension comes at last to an end. On the other hand, when the
applied load is nearly equal to the ultimate strength, the flow of
the metal continues until rupture occurs. Then, as in the former
case, extension goes on at first quickly, then slowly, but, finally,
instead of approaching an asymptotic limit, it quickens again as
the piece approaches rupture. The same phenomena are observed
in the bending of timber and other materials when in the form of
beams. If, instead of being subjected to a constant load, a test-
piece is set in a constant condition of strain, it is found that the
stress required to maintain this constant strain gradually decreases.
29. The gradual flow which goes on under constant stress —
approaching a lihiit if the stress is moderate in amount, and con-
tinuing without limit if the stress is sufEciently great — will still
go on at a diminished rate if the amount of stress be reduced. Thus,
in the testing of soft iron or mild steel by a machine in which the
stress is applied by hydraulic power, a stage is reached soon aftef
the limit of elasticity is passed at which the metal begins to flow
with great rapidity. The pumps often do not keep pace with
this, and the result is that, if the lever is to be kept floating, the
weight on it must be run back. Under this reduced stress the
2 For descriptions of tliese anl other types of aiitographic recorder, see a paper
by Prof. Unwin, "On tlie Enij-ilojinent of Autograpiiic Records in Tis'Jng
Materials," Jour. Soc. Arts, Feb., 1886; also Prof. Kennedy's compreliensivd
paper, " On the Use and Equipmell^ of EnEineering Laboratories," Mm. Proc
Inst. C.E., 1S86, which contains muci; valuable infonnation on the whole sub-
ject of testing and testing maciiines.
* Proe. Inst, ifech. Eng., 1886. An Interesting featnre of this apparattu is a
device for p'eveuUog error in ttie diagram tL< nagh motion of the test-piece as a
wiiole.
< Proc. Inst, ifech. Eng. ,1SS6; also Mn.A-oc. 7;ii^. (7.B., vol. IixxTiil.,18S6.pl.I.
* Thurston's Materials of Engineering, part ii. For accounts of work dane
with this machine, see Trans. Amer. Soc. Civ. Eng., from 1376; also. Report of
the American Board, cited above.
« See a paper by Prof. Unwin, Phil. Mag., March, 1887.
' Mitth. atis dem Mech.-Tcch. Lab. in MUnchen, Heft 5.
8 C/. Bauschinger, Ice. cil.; Kennedy, (oc cit.; Jenny Festigte'tt 7«rncA«,
Vienna, 1878.
STRENGTH OF MATERIALS
599
t.'iv continues, more slowly than before, until presently the pnmps
j-fjovcr their lost ground and the increase of stress is resumed.
Again, near the point of
rupture, the flow again be-
comes specially rapid ; the
weight on the lever lias
asain to be rim back, and
the specimen finally breaks
under a diminished load.
J lii-'sa features are well
/uown by Cg. 12, which is
copied from the auto-
graphic diagram of a test JJ
of mild steel.' g
ao. But it is not onlyj;
througl'. what we may call
the viscosity of materials
that tlie time rate of load-
ing affects their behaviour
tinder test. In iron and
steel, and probably in some
otb«r metals, time has an«
other effect of a. very re-
markable kind. Let the
test be carried to any point
Fio. 12.
EXTtN3l0«
-Autographic Diagram for a test of
mild steel.
20
IS
1
l.-t-
Z'
/
S
.
L
10
[i
D 5
EKtension, Per Cenl.
Fig. 13.
50
/
.^
r
/
0 5 10 IS
ExK/tRiOn . Per Cent
Fig. 14.
a (fig. 13) past the original limit of el.asticity. Let the load then
be removed ; during the first stages of this removal the material
continues to stretch slightly, as has been explained above. Let
the load then be 'at once replaced and loading continued. It will
then ba fouud that there is a new yield-point b at or near the value
of the load formerly reached ; up to this point there is little other
than elastic strain.
The full line be in
6g. 13 shows the sub-
se^^uent behaviour of
the piece. But now
let the experiment be
repeated on another
sample, with this dif-
ference, that ah. inter-
val of time, of a few
hours or more, is al-
lowed to elapse after
the load is removed
and before it is re-
placed. It will then
be found that a process
.A hardening has been
_;oiug on during this
.ntorval of rest; for,
,vhen tho loading is
continued, the new
yidd-point appears,
^ot at b as formerly,
ti't at a higher load d.
Oiuer evidence that a
change has taken place is afforded by the fact that the ultimate
extension is reduced and the ultimate strength is increased (c,
fig. 13).
31. A similar and oven more marked hardening occurs when
a load (exceeding tho original elastic limit), instead of being
removed and replaced, is kept on for a sufficient length of time
without change. When loading is resumed a new yield-point
is found only after a considerable addition has been made to
the load. The result is, as in the former case, to give greater
ultimate strength and less ultimate elongation, Fig. 14 exhibits
two experiments of this kind, made with annealed iron wire. A
load of 23i tons per square inch was reached iu both cases; ab
-Iiows the result of continuing to load after an interval of five
minutes, and acd after an interval of 454 hours, the stress of 23 J
tons being maintained during the interval in both cases.
:;2. It must not bo supjioscd that in a material hardened by
itrain the elasticity is perfect up to tho yield-points which are
jliov.n in fig. 13 at b and d or in fig. 14 at c. In experiments made
fur this article, it has been found that, after a piece of very soft
iron wire has been hardened (as in fig. 14) by tho continvied appli-
i^ation cf a load which had caused stret'jhing, if a small addition
bo made to the load (bringing it to a value between a and tho
newyiold-point), although there is at first no apparent drawing out,
nevertheless if time be given the wire begins again to draw, and
1 largo amount of stretching at an increased pace may ensue. In
his way wires have been broken with loads considerably .short of
> Tho Incrcnsc of atrnln without incrcoso of stress, which goes on without
«imlt %\ hen Q ttst-piccc under tension upprouclics ruplnrc, is a special case of tho
,^i;neral phenomenon of " flow of solids," which has hccn exhibited, chiefly for
compressive stresses, In ii series of beautiful experiments by Trvsca iit^moirei 9ur
^'^'couicrnenf (fcj Corpi :i'itidts, ttlso i'roc. Jtisl, Midi. Eng., 1SC7 and 1878).
those which wonld have been required had the procoos of loading,
from the point a onward, been continued at a moderately rapid
rate. A slow process of viscous deformation may in fact be occur-
rii:g at the same time that the metal shows a quasi-elasticity with
respect to rapid alteration of stress. Bauschinger's microractric
experiments have shown that alter a piece has been hardened
by rest the true limit of elasticity, or the point at which Hooke's
law begins to fail, comes far short of the yield-point He has also
shown that a long interval of rest after the set has taken place
produces a slow rise of the true limit of elasticity," apparently
a slower rise than the lapse of time causes in the yield-point
itself.
03. In the testing of iron and steel the time during which any
state of (pull) streso (exceeding the original clastic limit) exists affects
tho result in two somewhat antagonistic ways. It avigments exten-
sion, by giving the metal leisure to How. This may be called the
viscous effect. But, on tho other hand, it reduces the amount of
extension which subsequent greater loads will cause, and it increases
the amount of load required for rupture in the way which has just
been described. This may be called the hai'dening effect. When
a piece is broken by continuous gradual increment of load, these
two effects are occurring at all stages of the test. If the viscous
effect existed alone, or if the hardening effect were small, the
material would show to greater advantage as regards elongation,
and to less advantage as regards uldmate strength, the more
slowly the load were applied. Tin and lead may be cited as mate-
rials for which this is the case. But when the hardening effect
is relatively great, as in iron and steel, the material shows less
elongation and a higher breaking strength the more slowly it is
tested. An excellent illustration of thii is given by the following
experiment of Mr Bottomley. Pieces of iron wire, annealed and
of exceptionally soft quality, when loaded at the rate of 1 lb in
5 minutes, broke with 44J lb and stretched 27 per cent, of their
original length. Other pieces of the ^ame wire, loaded at the
rate of 1 lb in 24 hours, broke with 47 lb and stretched less than
7 per cent.' Again, it has been found that an excessively rapid
application of stress (by the explosion of gun-cotton) makes soft
steel stretch twice as much as in ordinary testing.* The case is
very different, however, if the material has been previously hard-
ened by strain. It
does not appear
that such varia-
tions in the rate
of loading as are
liable to occur in
practical tests of
iron or steel have
much influence on
the extension or
the strength, grsat
as tho . effects of
time are when the
metal is loaded
either much more
slowly or much
more quickly. In
fig. ID the results
are shown of tests
of two similar
pieces of soft iron
wire, one loaded
to rupture in 4
minutes and tho
other at a rate
about 5000 times
slower.
84. The hard,
ening effect which
intervals of rest
f
*■*'
= 15
Li
<.
/
j *
(0
a.
(A
O
a:
}0
S 10 IS 20 25
EXTENSION, PER CENT."/
Fig. 15.
from load or orcoustant load produce, once the priraitivo clastic
limit is passed, has been examined by Bcardsley," Thur.ston,
Bauscliinger,« Ewing,' and others. The effect of even a few mmutes'
paurto is Tiei-ccptible, an hour or two of constant stress has » vcrj
marked influence, and afiir 24 hours or so there appear to be
little further hardening. Tho American Board found that iron bara,
previously stressed to about 60,000 lb per square inch, gaiiicd ic
strength, by intervals of rest from stress, to tho extent of about S
per cent, in one day, 16 per cent, in throe days, and 18 per cent, w
six months.' . , . , , .
35. It may be concluded that, -when a piece of metal has in qu)
way received a permanent set by_strcssj:xcccding its limits o^
> MMh. am dcm Mec/i.-Teeh. lab. in MOmUn. Heft ip 18SC
» P}-oc. lioij. Soc, Wni, p. 221. See also Euasikitt, 5 £'J.
« SCO remarks by Col. Sl.illlnnd, Jfin. Proc. In$l. C.i.. vol. i.'cxn j ID*.
» Seo AVAiwf o/Ihe U.S. Hoard on Tcils o/ Mrtali, vol. 1. scalon 4.
7 ji'oc'.'koi/. Soc, June 1870. Tho autographic dltgrann mvcn In fix* IS IBS
14 are takcu from lheso.test» • vC- ci(., p, lU
000
STRENGTH OF MATERIALS
elasticity, it is liardeDe<l. ana (in some cases at least) its jiliysical
propei'ties go ou slowly clianging for days or even months.
Instances of the bai'dauiug effect of permanent set occur when
plates or bare are rolled cold, hammered cold, or bent cold, or when
wire is drawn. AVhen a hole is punched in a plate the mciterial
;ontiguous to the hole is severely distorted by shear, and is so
much hardened in consequence that when a strip containing the
punched hole is broken by tensile stress the hardened portion,
Deing unable to e.\tend so much as the rest, receives an undue
proportion of tlie stress, and the strip breaks with a smaller load
than it would have borne had the stress been uniformly distributed.
This bad effect of punching is especially noticeable in thick plates
af mild steel. It disappears when a narrow ring of material
surrounding the hole is removed by means of a rimer, so that
the material that is left is homogeneous. Another remarkable
Instance of the same kind of action is seen when a mild-steel plate
which is to be tested by bending lias a piece cut from its edge by
a shearing machine. The result of the shear is that the metal
close to the edge is hardened, and, when the plate is beut, this part,
being unable to stretch like the rest, starts a crack or tear which
quickly spreads across the plate on account of the fact that in
the metal at the end of the crack there is an enormously high
local intensity of stress (see Elasticity, § 72). By the simple
expedient of planing off the hardened edge before bending the
plate homogeneity is restored, and the plate wiU then bend with-
out damage.
36. The hardening effect of strain is removed by the process of
annealing, that is, by heating to redness and cooling slowly. In iron,
very mild steel, and most other metals the rate of cooling is a matter
of indifference; but in steel that contains more than about 0-2 per
cent, of carbon another kind of hardening is produced if the metal,
after being heated to redness, is cooled suddenly. AVhen the
proportion of carbon is considerably greater than this, steel may
he rendered excessively hard and brittle (" glass-hard ") by sudden
cooling from a red heat. Further, by being subsequently heated
to a moderate temperature, it may be deprived of some of this
hardness and rendered elastic through a wide range of strain.
This process is called the tempering of steel ; its effects depend on
the temperature to which the steel is heated after being hardened,
and the grade of temper which is acquired is usually specified by
the colour (blue, straw, &c. ) which appears on a clean surface of
the metal during this heating, through the formation of a film of
oxide. In the ordinary process of rolling plates or bars of iron or
mild steel the metal leaves the rolls at so high a temperature that
it is virtually annealed, or pretty nearly so.' The case is different
with plates and bars that are rolled cold : they, , like wire sup-
plied in the hard-drawn state (that is, without being annealed after
it leaves the draw-plate), exhibit the higher strength and greatly
reduced plasticity which result from permanent set.
37. The extension which occurs when a bar of uniform section is
pulled is at first general, and is distributed mth ^some approach
to uniformity over the length of the bar. Before the bar breaks,
however, a large additional amount of local extension occurs at and
near the place of rupture. The material flows in that neighbour-
hood much more than in other parts of the bar, and the section is
much more contracted there than elsewhere. The contraction of
area at fracture is frequently stated' as one of the results of a test,
and is a useful index to the quality of materials. If a flaw is pre-
sent sufficient to determine the section at which rupture shall occur
the contraction of area will in general be distinctly diminished
as compared with the contraction in a specimen free from flaws,
although little reduction may be noted ,in the total extension of
the piece. Local extension and contraction of area are almost
absent in cast-iron and hard steel ; on the other, hand they are
specially prominent in wrought-iron, mild steel, and other metals
that combine plasticity with high tensile strength. An example
is sho^vu in fig. 16, which is copied from a photograph of a broken
test-piece of Whitworth soft fluid-compressed steel.
38. Experiments with long rods show that the general extension
which occurs in parts of the bar not near the break is somewhat
irregular ;^ it exhibits here and there incipient local stretching,
which has stopped without leading to rupture. This is of course
due in the first instance to want of homogeneity. It may be
1 In several of Mr Klrkaldy'a papers, a comparison Is given of the elastic
limit, ultimate stvengtii, and ultimate extension of samples which were annealed
before testing, and of samples which were tested in ihe commercial state; in
penerul the annealed samples are distinctly, though not very materially, softer
than the others {On the Relative Properties of Wrongfit-Iron Plates from Es^ex
aJiJ 1 orA-s/iiVf. London, 1876 ; also Experiments on Fn'/erxla Stcef, London, 1873).
2 See Kiikaldy's Experiments on Fagersta sr^*' London, 1873 ; also Report of
tht Bfel Committee, pait I.
supposed that when local stretching begins at any point in tho
earlier stages of the test it is checked by the hardening eff'ett of
the strain, until, finally, under greater load, a stage is reached in
wliich the extension at one place goes on so fast that the hardening
effect cannot keep pace with the increase in intensity of stress
which results from diminution of area ; the local extension is thea
unstable, and rupture ensues. Even at this stage a pause in th&
loading, and an interval of relief from stress, may harden the
locally stretched part enough to make rupture occur somewhere
else when the loading is continued.
39. Local stretching causes the percentage of elongation which
a test-piece exhibits before rupture (an important quantity in en-
gineers' speci.'.cations) to vary greatly with the length and section
of the piece tested. It is very usual to specify the length which
is to exhibit an assigned percentage of elongation. This, however,
is not enough ; the percentage obviously depends on the relation
of the transverse dimensions to the length. A fine wire of iron
or steel, say 8 inches long, will stretch little more in proportion
to its length than a very long wire of the same quality. Att
8-inch bar, say 1 inch in diameter, will show something like twice
as much the percentage of elongation as a very long rod. The ex-
periments of M. Barba ' show that, in material of uniform quality,
the percentage of extension is constant for test-pieces of similar
form, that is to say, for pieces of various size in which the
transverse dimensions are varied in the same proportion as the
length. • It is to be regretted that in ordinary testing it is not
practicable to reduce the pieces to a standard form, with one
]>roportion of transverse dimensions to length, since an arbitrary
choice of length and cross-section gives results which are incapable
of direct comparison with one another.
40. The form chosen for test-pieces in tension tests affects not Influen
only the extension but also the ultimate strength. In the first on
place, if there is a sudden or rapid change in the area of cross strengt
section at any part of the length under tension (as at AB, fig. 17),
the stress will not be uniformly distributed there.
The intensity will be greatest at the edges A and B,
and the piece will, in consequence, pass its elastic
limit at a less value of the total load than would be
the case if the change from the larger to the smaller
section were gradual. In a non-ductile material, rup-
ture will for the same reason take place at AB, vrith
a less total load than would otherwise be borne. On
the other hand, with a sufficieptly ductile material,
although the section AB is the first to be permanently
deformed, rupture will preferably take place at some
section not near AB, because at and near AB the con-
traction of sectional area which precedes rupture is
partly prevented by the presence of the projecting
portions C and D. Hence, too, with a ductile material
samples such as those of fig. 18, in which the part of smallest section
between the shoulders or enlarged ends of the piece is short, wili
break with a greater ■-
load than could be ^
borne by long uni-
form rods of the
same section. In
good wrought-iron
and mild steel the
flow of metal pre-
ceding rupture and
causing local con-
traction of section ^'
extends over a length six or eight times the width of the piece ;
and, if the length throughout which the section is uniform ba
materially less than this, the process of flow will be rendered more
difficult and the breaking load of the sample will be raised.*
These considerations have of course a wider application than to
the mere interpretation of special tests. An important practical
case is that of riveted joints, in which the metal left, between the-
rivet-holes is subjected to tensile stress. It is found to bear, per
square inch, a greater pull than would be borne by a strip of the
same plate, if the strip were tested in the usual way with uniforni
section throughout a length great enough to allow complete freedom,
of local flow.'
41. The tensile strength of long rods is affected by the length
in quite a different way. With a perfectly homogeneous material,
no difference should be found in the strength of rods of equal
8 ifem. de Ja Soc. des Jng. Civ.. 1S80 ; see also a paper by Mr W. Hackney,
" On the Adoption of Standaid Forms of Test-Pieces," Min. Proc. Iiist. C.E^
1884.
4 The greater strength of nicked or groored specimens seems fa have Deen
first remai'ked by Mr Kirkaldy {Sxpertmehts on Wrought Irrn and Sleet, p. 74,
also Experiments on Fagersta Steel, p. 27). See also a paper by Mr E. Richards,
on tests of mild steel, Jour. Iron and Steel Inst., 1882.
6 See Kennedy's "Reports on Rivetted Joints," Proc. Inst. Jtfecft. Eng.. 1881-6,.
In the case of mild steel plates a drilled strip may have aa much as 12 per cent.
ni'>re tensile strength per square inch than an undrilled strip. With ponchef
liules, on the other hand, the remaining metal is much weakened, for the reasc*k
reterreit to in } 3S.
STRENGTH OF MATERIALS
601
Fig. 19.
sectioral Srea aod of diflerent lcn;;tlis, proviucil tlio length of IjoUi
were great enough to prevent tho action described in § 40 from alfect-
sng tne rcsnlt. Uut, since no material is perfectly homogeneous,
tho longer rod will in general be tho weaker, olfering as it does
more chances of a weak place ; and tho probable defect of strength
in the long rod will depend on the degiee of variability of the
material. When this has been established by numerous tests of
short samples, tlie strength which a rod of any assigned Icugth may
1)0 expected to possess can be calculated by an ap|>li-
cation of the theory of probabilities. A theory oi tlic
strength of long bars has been worked out on tliis
basis by Prof. Chaplin,' and has been experimentally
confirmed by tests of long and short samples of wire.
The theory does not apply when the length is so small
that tho action of § 40 enters into the case, and the
,8xperimental data on which it is based must be taken
from tests of samples long enough to exclude that
BctioD
42. In tension tests, rupture may occur, as in fig.
19, by direct separation over a surface which is nearly
fb.iie and normal to the line of stress. This is usual
111 hard steel and other comparatively non-ductile mate-
rials. Or it may occur by shearing along an obliijuo
plane, as in fig. 20, which
shows the fracture of a piete
of steel softer than the speci-
men of fig. 19. In very duc-
tile samples these two modes
of rupture are frequently found in com-
bin.ition, as in fig. 21, where a central core
is broken by direct tension while round it
is a ring over which separation has taken
place by shearing In this instance the
ring is in two parts, one above and one
below the surfaite of ropture of the central flat core. In other
instances, such as that of the sample shown in fig. 16, the shorn
ring forms a co'itinnous cone or crater ronnd a flat core.
St'*™ 43. In compression tests of a plastir: material, such as mild steel,
mm- a process of flow may go on without limit: the piece (which must
ion. of course be short, to avoid buckling) shortens and bulges out in
the foim of a cask. This is illustrated i
by fig. 22 (from on« of Fairbairn's expe-
riments), which shows the compression
of a round block of steel (the original
height and diameter of which are showu
by the dotted lines) by a load equal to
100 tons per square inch of original sec-
tional area. The surface over which the
stress is distributed becomes enlarged,
and the total load must be increased in
a corresponding degree to maintairt tho
process of flow.'- The bulgingoften produces longitudinal cracks,
as inthe figure, especially when tho material is fibrous as well as
plastic (as in the case of wroughf-iron). A brittle material, such
as cast-iron brick, or stone, yields by shearing on inclined planes
as in tigs. 23 and 24, which are taken from
Hodgkinson's experiments on cast-iron.'
The simplest fracture of this kind is exem-
plified by fig. 23, where a single surface (ap-
FJg. 20.
Fig. 21.
!
Fig. 22.
Fig. 53.
Fig. 24.
proximately a piano) of shear divides tho compressed blocK mto
;wo wedges. With cast-iron tho slope of tho plane is such that
this simple mode of fracture can take place only if the height of
the block is rot less than about J tho width of the base. When
tlio height is less tho action is morn complex. Shearing must then
take place over nioro than one plane, as in fig. 24, so that cones
or wedges are formed by which tho surrounding portions of tho
block aro split off. Tho stress required to crush tho block is con-
• Van NostraniTs JCnirimenng Magazine, Dec. 1880; Proc. Englnteri' Club oj
/>l>iladell>hia,Hari:l\,lbnl.
' For erampirs, sec I'nhbalrn'a cipcilmcnl!! on itccl. Hep. Ilril. Ati., ISC7.
- Union 0/ (lie nnijal CommUslonfrs on Ilia ApnUcalioa oJ Iron (0 ItaUicay
Jtruclunt, 1843; kcu uIso Bi-i(. Ast. Krp., la.j7,
22— L'-i''
scquontly greater than if the height wore suDScient for shearing in
a single plane.
44. The inclination of tho surfaces of shear, when fracture takes
place by shearing under a simple stress of pull or push, is a matter
of much interest, throwing some light on the question of how the
resistance which a material exerts to stress of one kind is affected by
the presence of stress of another kind, — a question scarcely touched
by direct experiment. At tho shorn surface there is, in the case
of tcusion tests, a normal pull as well as a shearing stress, and in
the case of compression tests a normal push as well as shearing
stress. If this normal component were . absent the materia)
(assuming it to be isotropic) would shear in the surface of greatest
shearing stress, which, as wo have seen in § 5, is a surface inclined
at 45° to the axis. In fact, however, it does not shear on this
surface. Hodgkinson's experiments on the compression of cast-
iron give surfaces of shear whose normal is inclined at about 65°
to the axis of stress,* and Kirkaldy's, on the tension of steel, show
that whetr rupture takes place by shear tho normal to the surface
is inclined at about 25° to the axis.* These restdts show that
normal puU diminishes resistance to shearing and normal push
increases resistance to shearing. In the case of. cast-iron under
compression, the material prefers to shear on a section where the
intensity of shearing stress is only 0'94 of its value on the surface
of maximum shearing stress (inclined at '45°). but where tho
normal push is reduced to 0'66 of its value oh the surface of maxi-
mum shearing stress.
45. Fatigue of ildals. — A matter of great practical as well as
scientific interest is the weakening which materials undergo by
repeated changes in their state of stress. It appears that in some
if not in all materials a limited amount of stress-variation may
be repeated time after time without appreciable deterioration in
the strength of the piece; in the balance-spring of a watch, for
instance, tension and compression succeed each other some 160-
inillions of times in a year, and tho spring works for years without
apparent injury. In such cases the stresses lie well within the
elastio limits.. On the other hand, the toughest bar breaks after a
small number of bendings to and fro, when these pass the elastic
limits, although the stress may have a value greatly short of the
normal ultimate strength. A laborious research by Wohler,' ex-
tending over twelve years, has given much important information
regarding the effects on iron and steel of very numerous repeated
alternations of stress from positive to negative, or between a higher
and a lower value without change of sign. By means of ingeniously
coi'trived machines he submitted test-pieces to direct pull, alter-
nated mth complete or partial relaxation from ]iull, to repeated
bending in one direction and also in opposite directions, and to re-
peated twisting towards one side and towards opposite sides. ■ The
results show that a stress greatly less tlian the ultimate strength (as
tested in the usual way by a single application of load continued to
rupture) is sulEoient to break a piece if it be often enough removed
and restored, or even alternated with a less stress of the same
kind. In that caso, however, the variation of stress being less,
the number of repetitions' required to produce rupture is greater.
In general, the number of repetitions required to produce nip-
tilre is increased by reducing the range through which the stress
is varied, or lay lowering the upper limit of that range. If the
greatest stress bo chosen small enough, it may be reduced, re-
moved, or even reversed many million times without destroying
the piece. Wohler's results are best shown by quoting a few
figures selected from his experiments. The stresses are stated in
centners per square zoU;' in the case of bars subjected to bending
they refer to the top and bottom sides, which are tho nio«t stressed
parts of the bar.
I. Iron bar in direct tension : —
Stress.
Nunili'T of Api)licatlon3
Stress.
Kumter of Applicntlono
Ma.K. Mln
cuuiiiiC Kiipture.
Mnx Min.
causing Rnpture.
4.S0 0
600
320 0
10.141.C45
440 0
10(!,»01
—
4«0 0
34l),8.-.3
440 200
a,.'!;3,424
3G0 0
480,852
440 'i40
Kot broken wliii 4 inililona.
II. Iron
bar bent by transvcrst
load : —
stress.
Knmbrr of Bendings
stress.
Number of nencllngs
Max. Mhi
cuusinc Itiipturc.
Mux. Mm
causlrg Rupture.
&.on 0
llia.TM
400 0
] ,:t20.oo0
^00 0
420.000
a.'.O 0
4,O3.%.40O
no 0
481,910
300 0
Not broken » Itli 48 iiillllona
III. steel b.ir bent by transverse load: —
Stress. Number of nendlnga
Mux. Mln. causing Huplui-c.
000 400 ai.'v.aoo
000 too 701,900— mcunoflwotrliila.
000 COO Not broken wIlli 3.11 mill*.
SlicsH. Number of IJendlngs
M'lx. Mln. cuuslng liupluro.
900 0 72.4i'l
mil) 200 81,200
900 3110 15(J,20U
» iJie Ftttlateilt-Versmhe mil Elitn undSlahl, Perlln, 1870, or Z«fir»r. JHr
nmiwrmt. 1800-70; aco also engiiutrmj. vol. xl.. IWl. l-OT caily <,xi>crimcnl»
by 1 ^Irbnirn on tlio samo juliji-ct. seo Plid. Trim'., I8G4. • „ , , t v
I! Accordlnit to llausclilnKer (/ur. cU, p. 44), llio centner per squnicroll In wmcn
Wiliiior Kives hia rcsulta la ctiulvulcnt to G837 klloa per anuuto cm., or UW.W loll
pur siiuciu lii'v-a.
f>02
STRENGTH OF M A T £ K I A L S
stress.
Number of Ttotationa
From + to —
causinE ItupLure,
S20
3,^;32,^88
800
4.917,992
180
19,186,791
160
Not broken wilh 132}
• • millions.
IV. Iron bar bout by supporting at oue end, the other t^U being
loaded ; alteiTiatious of stress from pull to push caused by rotatiEg
the bar: —
stress. Naraher of Eotations
From -r to — causiaR Rupture.
.3i0 66,430
800 99,000
280 183,145
260 419,490
240 909,810
46. From these and other experiments Vohier concluded that
the wrought-iron to which the tests refer could probably bear an
indefinite number of stress changes between the limits stated (-in
round numbers) in the following table (the ultimate tensile strength
^as about i9J tons per square inch) : —
Stress in Tons per Stj. Inch.
■Frnm pull to push +7 to —7
From pull to no stress..^ 13 to 0
From pull to less pull 19 to lOJ
Hence it appears that the actual strength of this material varies in
1 ratio which may be roughly given as 3 :.2 : 1 in the three cases of
{a) steady pull, (i) pull alternating with no stress, very many times
Mpeatcd, and (c) pull alternating with push, very many times
repeated. Tactors of safety applicable to the three cases might
therefore rationally stand to one another in the ratio of 1 : 2 : 3.
for steel Wbhler obtained results of a generally similar kind. His
s.xpcriments were repeated by Spangenberg, who extended the
inquiry to brass, gun-metal, and phosphor-bronze.' On the basis
3f W'ohler's results formulas have been devised by Launhardt,
Weyrauch, and others to express the probable actual strength of
metals under assigned variations of stress; these are, of course, of
» merely empiiical character, and the data are not yet extensive
»nongh to give them much value."
17. Wohler's experiments, dealing, as all experiments must,
with a finite number of stress-changes, leave it an open question
whether there are any limits within which a state of stress might
be indefinitely often varied without finally destroying the material.
it is natural to suppose that a material possessing perfect elasticity
tvould suffer no deterioration from stress-changes lying within
limits up to which the elasticity is perfect. Bi\t these limits, if
they exist at all, are probably very narrow. Indeed, in the. case of
iron, there is indirect evidence that all alteration of stress whatso-
ever afi'ects the molecular structure in a way not consistent with
the notion of perfect elasticity. When the state .of stress in iron
is varied, however slowly and however little, the magnetic and
thermo-electric qualities of the metal are found to change in an
essentially irreversible manner.^ Every variation leaves its mark
on the quality of the piece; the' actual quality at any time is a
function of all the states'of stress in which the piece has previously
been placed. It can scarcely be doubted that sufficiently refined
mi-thods of experiment would detect a similar want of reversibility
in the mechanical effects of stress, even when alterations of stress
occur slowly enough to escape the effects of viscosity which have
been examined by Sir WiUiara Thomson and discussed under
Elasticity (vril. '/ii. pp. S02 sq.). In any case, the viscosity investi-
jated by Thomson causes such stress-changes as occur rapidly to do
work on the malarial, and the destructive effect of repeated changes
may be due in great part to this cause. ■ His e3q)eriments show that
rapid sti'ess-changes often repeated do produce a cumulative effect
in reducing the modulus of elasticity; and it is very probable that
this fatigue ot elasticity is associated with fatigue of strength.
There are as yet no experiments showing how far fatigue of
Streugth is affected by the frequency, as distinguished from the
mere number, of the stress-changes, nor whether a period of rest,
after fatigue has been induced, restores strength. That it does so
may be conjectured from Thomson's discovery that rest restores
elasticity after elastic fatigue. The conjecture is strengthened by
Banschinger's discoverythat, after a permanent set has been pro-
duced and a period of rest follows, the apparent limit of elasticity
(in the strict sense of that term) rises slowly with the lapse of time.
Both questions are ot obvious practical interest.''
48. When a strain is produced within the limits to which
Hookc's law applies, the work done in producing it is half the
product of the stress into the strain. A load applied to a piece
suddenly, but without impact, does an amount of work in straining
the piece which is measured by the weight of the load into the
distance it sinks in consequence of the strain. Hence, provided
» Uebef das Vefhalten der A'letaUe bei iteiderhoHm Anstrengungm^ Berlin, 1875.
2-See Weyrauch, "On the Calculation of Dimensions as depending on the
Ultimate Working Strength of Materials," Miti. Proc. Inst. C.E„ vol. Ixlii. p. 275;
also a corrcsi-nndence in Engineering, vol. xxix., and Un win's Machine Design,
«hap. ii. 3 Ewing, Phil. Trans., 1885, 138G.
* For intorcsting notices of the fatigue of metals in railway asles, bridge ties,
Ac, and results of experiments showing reduced plasticity in fatigued metal,
see MrE. E.^u'^r's address to the Blechanical Section of the British Association,
1885. In most ca^es where the fatigue of metals occurs in engineering practice
the phenomenon is complicated by the occurrence of blows or shocks whose energy
is absorbed in producing strains often exceeding the elastic limits, sometimes
of a veiy loc;il character in consequence of the inertia of the strained pieces.
Such shocks may cause an accumulation of set which finally leads to rupture in a
way that is not to b'3 confused with ordinary fatigue of strength. It appears
iliat the effects of fatigue may be removed by annealing.
this strain falls trithin th.u elastic limit, the strain and the streaa
are hvice as great as the same load would produce when in eqo--
librium. Instances of load applied with complete suddenness, and
yet without shock, are rare ; but it is a common case for loads to
be applied so rapidly that the stress reaches a value intermediate
between that due to a static load and the double stress due to the
same load applied at once. Thus the Railway Coii.missioners found
that certain bridges were deflected by a train passing at a speed of
50 miles per hour -f more than by the same load at rest.' The
fact that a "live" load produces greater stress than a dead load is
of course to be distinguished from the question Wohler's experi-
ments deal with—the greater destructiveness of the intermitted or
varied stress which a live load causes. In many cases engineers
allow in one operation for these quite independent influences of a
live load by choosing a higher factor of safety for the live than for
the dead part of the whole load on a structure, or (what is tlio
same thing) by multiplying the live load by a coefficient (often U),
adding the product to the dead load, and treating the sum as'il
all were dead load.
49. A useful application of diagrams showing the relation of
strain to stress is to determine the amount of work done in strain-
ing a piece in any assigned way. The term "resilience" is conven-
iently used to specify the amount of work done when the strain
just reaches the corresponding elastic limit. Thus a rod in simple
tension or simple compression has a resilience per unit of volnrao
=/^/2E, where /is the greatest elastic pull or push. A blow whoso
energy exceeds the resilience (reckoned for the kind of stress to'
.which the blow gives rise) must in the most favourable case pro-,
duce a permanent set; in less favourable cases local permanent
set will be produced although the energy of the blow is less than
the resilience, in consequence of 'the strain being unequally dis-
tributed. In a plastic material a strain exceeding the limit of
elasticity absorbs a relatively large amount of energy, and generally
increases the resilience for subsequent strains. Fracture under suc-
cessive blows, as in the testing of rails by placing them as beams
on two supports, and allowing a weight to tall in the middle from
a given height, results from the accumulated set which is brought
about by the energy of each blow exceeding the resilience
50. In an important paper^ which is reprinted in the article'
Elasticity, and should be carefully studied in this connexion, '
Prof. James Thomson has pointed out that the effect of any
externally applied load depends, to a very material extent, on
whether there is or is not initial internal stress, or, in other
words, whether the loaded piece is initially in what Prof. Hearson
has called a state of ease. Internal stress, existing without tho
application of force from without the piece, must satisfy the con-
dition that its resultant vanishes over any complete cross-section.'
It may exist in consequence of set caused by previously applied
forces (a case of which instances are given below), or in conse-|
quence of previous temperature changes, as in cast-iron, which is
thrown into a state of internal stress by unequally rapid cooling
of the mass. Thus in (say) a spherical casting an outside shell
solidifies first, and has become partially contracted by cooling by
the time the inside has become solid. The inside then contracts, and
its contraction is resisted by the shell, which is thereby compressed
in a tangential direction, while the metal in the interior is pulled
in the direction of the radius. Allusion has already been made to
the fact, pointed out by J. Thomson, that the defect of elasticity
under small loads which Hodgkinscn discovered in cast-iron is
probably due to initial stress. In plastic metal a nearly complete
state of ease is brought about by annealing; even annealed pieces,
however, sometimes show, in the first loading, small defects of
elasticity, which are probably due to initial stress, as they disappear
when the load is reapplied.
51. Little is exactly kno'wn with regard to the effect of tempera-
ture on the strength of materials. Somfi metals, notably iron or
steel containing much phosphorus, show a marked increase in brittle-
ness at low temperatures, or "cold-shortness. " Experiments on the
tensile strength of wrought-iron and steel show in general little
variation within the usual atmospheric range of Jicat and cold.
Tho tensile strength appears to be slightly reduced at vcr/ low
temperatures, and to reach a maximum when the metal is warmed
to a temperature between 100° C. and 200° C. When the tempera-
ture exceeds 300° C. the tensile strength begins to fall off rapidly,
and at 1000° C. it is less than one-tenth of the normal value. '^
Reference may be made, in this connexion, to the effect which a
"blue heat," or temperature short of red heat, is believed to liavo
on the plasticity and stiength of iron, and more especially of mild
steel. It appears that steel plates and bars bent or otherwise
5 Report of Commissioners on the Application o.flmn to liniftrai/ Structures,
1849. A mathematical investigation of this effect of roUing load is given in &u
appendix to the F.epoit.
<» Camb. and Dub, Math. Journ. , Nov., 1848.
7 Sec Report of a Committee of the Franklin Institute, 1837 ; Fairbaim. Brit.
Ass. Rep., 1856 ; Styffe on Iron and Steel, trans, by C. P. Sanrlberg. Notices of
these and other experiments will be found in Thurston's Materials of I^ngint*ering,
ii. chap. X., and in papers by J. J. Webster, Min. Proc. Inst. C.E,, vol. Ix., and
A. Martens, ZcUsclir. des Ver. Dcutsch. Inn., 1883.
STRENGTH OF MATERIALS
003
worked at a blae*^^heat not only xun a much more senons risk of
frr.cturo iu the process than when worked either cold or red-liot,
bat- become duteiiomted so that brittleness may afterwards shuw
itaslf whcu the metal is cold.^
1,2. The following table gives a few Tepresoatativo data regarding
the strength of the more important materials used in engineering'
(the figures are gathered h-om the writings of Barlow, HoJgkiuscn,
Kjrkaldy, Thurston, Kankine, Unwiu, Clark, and others) :—
Csat-tron H to IO4
avei-af?c 7
AmericaD (oi^nance) ... 14
,, ,, atren^bcncd
by succeesive fusions,
Wroustit-iron —
finest Lowmoor and York-/
shh'ti plates 1
Staifordiihire {
Ultimate Strength.
Tons per Sqaaro Inch.
Elasticity.
looA. per i<i, in.
Bridge iron
Bars, flaest
Oidinarv tjood
Soft Swedish
Wrought-iion wire
„ „ Average about
Steel—
UUd ateel plates (Siemens or j
Bes&emcr)....'. ')
Axle and rail steel (do.)
Crucible tool steel
Steel castings
Chi ume steel
Tun;;slcn steel
Whitwortb's fluid-compressed
steel (mild)
„ „ (1"*"*)
Steel whe, ordinary, about....
l-emjicred steel lope wire
(highest) ,
Plano/ortosiccl wire
Copper, cast
„ rolled
,, wii-e, bard-drawn
Brass..
,, wire
Muitz metal..
Gun metal
Phosphor bronze
M >> wke..
Manganese bronze ,
Zinc, ca*t ,
„ ruUed
Tin
Lt-ad ,
TimbtT—
Oak
White pine
Pitch pine. ,
Riuafli"
Aah
Jleech :^
Tcnk ,.,
Si',T.iit^b niaho^any...
Stoue--
Granite
Sandstone »
Limestol^e
Slate «
Uriel!
/.
25 to €5
36 to 58
/.
YounR's Mod. of
Modulus Rigidity
E. C.
9 to 13
11
15 to 20 60 to 75
I
27 to 29 along tlie
24 across the tibre
26 along
24 8C1 0S3
22 olODg
19 across
27 to 20
19 to 34
25 to 50
35
26 to 32
avei'age
about SO
aOlto 45
40 to 65
about 28
80
72
40-
48 to 68
70
124
130
10 to 14
15 to 16
28
6 to 13
22
22
11 to 23
15 to 26
33 to 70
28 to 32
2 to 3
7 to 10
2
0-9
3 to 7
li to3i
4
2J to 5j
4 to 7
4 to 6
4 to 7
4to7
20
35
5"
13 to
22, or
about
10'/,
alioat
Jof/r
5000
to
6000
12,000
to
13,000
4
2J
2 to 4
4
4
3i
2ttoB
If to 2*
2 to 2 J
Ij tn 3
J 10 J
1300
to
2600
12,000
to
13,000
13,000
13,000
7000
8000
5500
6-100
/ 4500 to
\ 6500
6000
5500
1060
800
600
950
750
950
COO
7000
5000
to
5200
2800
1500
2200
■1700
2400
17
53. Space admits of -no more tlian a short and elementary
account of Bome of tlie more simple straining actions that occur iu
machines and engineering structui'es.
The stress which acts on any ])lauo surface AB (fig. 25), such as
in iiuaginary cross-scctiun of a strained
piece, may bo reprcscuted by a figure
formed by setting up ordinates Aa, 136,
Stc, from points on the surface, the "^
length of these being made proportional
to tlie intensity of stress at each point
This gives an ideal solid, which may lie
called the stress figure, whose lieight
shows the distribution of stress over the
surface which forms its base. A line ^
drawn from a, the centre of gravity of
the .stress figure, parallel to the ordinates Fig. as.
Aa, &c. , determines the point C, which is called the centre of stress,
and is the point through which the resultant of the distributed stress
acts. In the case of a uniformly distributed stress, ab is a plane
Burfaco jiarallcl to AB, and C is the centre of gravity of the surface
AB. When a bar is subjected to simple pull applied axially — that
' ' Stromcycr, " Tho Injurioua Effect of a Bluo Heat on Steel and Iron," Hin.
Voe. Jntl. O.K.. tol. '.ixulv., isan.
is to say, so that the resultant stress passes thiough the centre ol
gravity of every cross-section, — the stress may be taken as (sensibly)
uniformly distributed over :uiy section not near a jilace where the
form of tiie cross-section changes, provided the bat is initially in a
state nf ease and the stress is within the limits of elasticity.
64. Uniformly varying stress is Ulustrated by fig. 26. It occurs
(in each case for stresses within the elastic limit) in a bent beam,
in a tie subjected to non-axial pull, and
ill a long strut or column where buckling
makes the stress become non-axial. In
uniformly varying
stress the intensity
p at any point P is
proportional to the
distance of P from
line MN, called
Fig. 26
26 or fig. 28 may he
h
the neutral axis, which lies in the plane of the stressed surface and
at right angles to the direction AB, which is assumed to be that in
which thf! intensity of stress varies ^__^~
-most rapidly. There is no varia- ^ . , __ ""^ \H
tion of stress along lines parallel ^
to MN. If MN passes through/?
C, the centre of gravity of the sur- '^ Fig. 27
face, as in fig. 27, it -may easily be shown that the total pull stress
on one side of tlie neutral axis is equal to the total push stress OD
the other side, whatever be the form of the surface AB. The re-
sultant of the whole stress on AB is in that case a couple, whose
moment may be found as follows. Lot rfS be an indefinitely small
part of the surface at a distance x from the neutral axis through C,
and let p l)o the intensity of stress on rfS. The moment of the
stress on rfS is .tyrfS. But p=PixlXi'=p^lXi (see fig. 27). - The
whole moment of the stress on AB is /xi)dS~{p,IXiYx'dS=p-,llx,
or poI/a;„, where 1 is the moment of inertia of the surface AB about
tlie neutral axis' through C.
55. A stress such as that shown in
regarded as a uniformly distributed
b-tress of intensity P;, (which is the
intensity at the centre of gravity
of the surface C) and a stress of
the kind shown in fig. 27. The
resultant is Pffi, where S is the
-whole area ■ of the snrface, and
it acts at a distance CD from C
such that the moment p„S . CD=
p„=p„{l + x.,S . CD/l), and fi=
pla-x.S.CD'lI).
56. Simple bendingoccnrswhen a
beam is in equilibrium nnder equal'
and opposite couples in the plane of the beam. Thus if a beam
(fig. 29), supported at its ends, be loaded at two points so that
■Wi?i = \V„7„, the por-
tion of the beam lying
hetwecn Wi and Wj is
subjected to a simple
bending stress. On ^
any section AB the 'M
only stress consists of
pnll and push, and has
w;
J.
i»-4-+i
-%
Fig. 29.
for its resultant a couple whoso moment M = 'W,^, = WJ„. This is
caUed the lending mmnent at the section. If the stress bo within
the elastic limits it will bo distributed as in fig.
30, with the neutral axis at the centre of gravity
of the section. ■ The greatest intensities of push
and of pull, at the top and bottom edge respect-
ively, are (by § 54) jfj^Mi/./I and p^-'iAyJl,
and the intensity at any point at a distance y
above or below C is p-'Mi/jl.
67. Let the bending moment now he increased ;
non-elastic strain will begin as soon as either Pi
or p^ exceeds the corresponding limit of elasticity,
and the distribution of^ stress wQl bo changed in
consequence of tho fact that the outer layers of'
the beam are taking set while tho inner layers
are still following Ilooke's law. ' .As a simple in-
stance we may consider tho ease of a material strictly elastic np K
a certain stress, and then so plastic that a relatively veiy large
amount of strain is produced without further change of stres.s n
case not very for from being realized by soft wrought-iron and niild
steel. The diagram of stress will now take the form sketched in
fig. 81. If tho elastic limit is (s,iv) less for compreasion tlian for
tension, the diagram will be as in fig. 32, with tho ncutr.il axis
shifted towards tho tension side. When tho beam is relieved from
external load it will ho left in a state of internal stress, repre-
sented, for the case of fig. 31, by tho dotted lines in that liguie-
68. In consequence of the action which has been illustralid (iti
a somewhat crudo fashion) l>v figs. 31 aud 32, tho moment rciiuircd
Fig. 30.
604
STRENGTH OF MATERIALS
to break the beam (Mj) cannot be calculated from tllO ultimate
tensile or compressive strenc;th of the material by using the for-
mula Ml =/,!/;/,, or M,=/J/i/5. When experiments are made on
tlie ultimate strength of bars to resist bending, it is not unusual
to apply a formula of this form to calculate an imaginary stress /,
which receives the name
of the modulus of trans-
verse rupture. Let the
section be such that i/, =
y„. Then the modulus
of transverse rupture is
defined as /=M,2/i/I.
This mode of stating the
results of experiment on
transverse strength is
unsatisfactory, inasmuch
as the modulus of rup-
ture thus determined
will vary with different ^'S- ^'- ^"'- ^^•
forms of section. Thus a plastic material for which /, and /< are
equal, if tested in the form of an I beam in which the flanges form
practically the whole area of section, will have a modulus of rupture
sensibly equal to ft or/,. On the other hand, if the material be
tested "in the form of a rectangular bar, the modulus of rupture
may approach a value one and a half times as great. For in the
latter case the distribution of stress may approach an ultimate con-
dition in which half the section, is in uniform tension /,, and the
other half in uniform compression of the same intensity. The mo-
ment of stress is then i /,bh', b being the breadth and. A the
depth of the section ; but by definition of the modulus of rupture/,
M = J/6/i-. In tables of the modulus of tranaiverse rupture the
values are generally to be understood as referring to bars of
rectangular- section. Values of this modulus for some of the
■principal materials of engineering are given in the article Bridges,
vol. iv. p. 292.
69. The strain produced by bending stress in a bar or beam is, as
regards any imaginary filament taken along the length
of the piece, sensibly the same as if that filament were '
directly pulled or compressed by itself. The resulting n
deformation of the piece consists, in the first place and 1 1
chiefly, of curvature in the direction of the length, due ' \
to the longitudinal extension and compression of tha ' I
filaments, and, in the second place, of transverse flex- ; j
ure, due to the lateral compression and extension which j [
go along with their longitudinal extension and com- • |
pression (see Elasticity, § 67). Let Z„ fig. 33, be a i i
short portioii of the length of abeam strained by abend- * J
ing moment M (withi'n the limits of elasticity). The |- •
beam, which we assume to be originally straight, bends | |
in the direction of its length, to a curve of radius R, I '
such that R/Z — i/,/5Z, il being the change oli by exten- } {
sion or compression, at a distance y^ from the neutral
axis. But Sl = lpJEjby % 10, and^, = Myj/I. Hence
R = EI/M. The transverse flexure is not, in general, of
practical importance. The centre of curvature for it is on
the opposite side from the centre for longitudinal flexure,
and the radius is Ro-, where <r is the ratio of longitudiual
extension to lateral contractiou under simple pull. Fig. 33.
60. Bending combined with shearing is the mode of stress to
which beams are ordinarily subject, the loads, or externally applied
forces, being applied at right angles to the direction of the length.
Let AB, fig. 34, be any cross-section of a beam in equilibrium.
The portion V of the beam, which
lies on one side of AB, is in equi-
librium under the joint action of
the external forces F,, F„, F3, &c.,
and the forces which the other por
tion U exerts on V in consequence
of the state of stress at AB. The li " '
forces F„ F„, F„ &c. may be referred Fig. 34.
to AB by introducing couples whoso
moments arc Fja:,, FyC™, Fj^s, &c. Hence the stress at AB must
equilibrate, first, a couple whose moment is SFy, and, second, a
force whose value is 2F, which tends to shear V from U. In these
summations regard must of course be had to the sign of each force ;
in the diagram the sign of F3 is opposite to the sign of F, and F-.
Thus the stress at AB may bo regarded as that due to a bending
moment M equal to the sum of the moments about the section of
the externally applied forces on one side of the section (2Fa;), and
a sheai'ing force equal to the sum of the forces about one side of
the section (2F). . It is a matter of convenience only whether the
forces on V or on U be taken in reckoning the bending moment and
the shearing force. The bending moment causes a uniformly vary-
ing normal stress on AB of the kind already discussed in § 66 ; the
shearing force causes a shearing stress in the plane of the section,
the distribution of which will be investigated later. This shearing
ptrcss in tlie plane of the section is (by § 6) accompanied by an
;[
1±
(-JC, V
I* -^f
^^.
equal intensity of shearing stress in horizontal planes parallel to
the length of the beam.
61. The stress due to the bending moment, consisting of longi-
tudinal "push in filaments above the neutral axis and longitudinal
pull in filaments below the neutral axis, is the thing chiefly to be
considered in practical problems relating to the strength of beams.
The general formula Pi = Mi/,/I becomes, for a beam of rectangular
section of breadth b and depth h, ^i = 6M/6A' = 6M/SA, S being
the area of section. For a beam of circular section it becomes
^i = 32M/irA.' = SM/SA. The material of a beam is disposed to the
greatest advantage as regards resistance to bending when the form
is that of a pair of flanges or booms at top and bottom, held apart
by a thin but stiff web or by cross-bracing, as in I beams and braced
trusses. ' In such cases sensibly the whole bending moment is taken
by the flanges; the intensity of stress over the section of each
flange is very nearly uniform, and the areas of section of the ten-
sion and compression flanges (S, and S, respectively) should be
proportioned to the value of the ultimate strengths/ and/,, so that
S,/t = S2/,. Thus for cast-iron beams Hodgkinson has recommended
that the tension flange should have six times the sectional area of
the compression flange. The intensity of longitudinal stress on the
two flanges of an I beam is approximately M/SjA and il/SjA, h
being the depth from centre to centre of the flanges.
62. In the examination of loaded beams it is convenient to re- r.agr
present graphically the bending moment and the shearing force at ol bei
various sections by setting up ordinates to represent the values of "'^ JJ^
these quantities. Curves of bending moment and shearing force si,ear
for a number of important practical cases of beams supported at force
the ends will bo.found in the article BkiSges, with expressions for
the maximum bending moment and maximum shearing force under
various distributions of load. The subject may be briefly illustraled
i"ig. 35.
here by taking the case of a cantilever or projecting bracket — (1)
loaded at the end only (fig. 35) ; (2) loaded' at the end and at
another point (fig. 36) ; (3) loaded over the whole length with a
uniform load per foot run. Curves of bending moment are given
in full lines and curves of shearing force in dotted lines in the
diagrams.
The area enclosed by the curve of shearing force, up to anj
ordinate, such as ab (fig. 37), is equal to the bending moment at
the same section, represented by the ordinate ac. For let x be
increased to x + Sx, the bending moment changes to 2F(x + 5z), cr
5M = 5x2F. Hence the shearing force at any section is equal to
the rate of change of the bending moment there per unit of the
length, and the bending moment is the integral of the shearing
force with respect to the length. In the case of a continuous dis-
tribution of load, it should be observed that, when x is increased
to x + Sx, the moment changes by an additional amount which
depends on {Sxj' and may therefore be neglected.
63. To examine the distribution of shearing stress over any Distr
vertical section of a beam,
we may consider two
closely adjacent sections
AB and DE (fig. 38), on
which the bending mo-
ments are M and M-f-5M
respectively. The result-
ant horizontal force due to
the bending stresses on a
piece ADHG enclosed be"
tween the adjacent sec-
tions, and bounded by
the horizontal plane GH
at a distance 2/5 from the
neutral axis, is shown by
the shaded figure. This
must be equilibrated by
the horizontal shearing
stress on GH, which is the
0k
m
t \
i :i-i:
tlOU '
sheai
stresi
?/
/
, Fig. 38
only other horizontal force acting on the piece. At any height ;/
the intensity of resultant horizontal stress due to the differenco
of the bending moments is j/511/I, and the whole horizontal force
on GH is ^f^^yzdy, z being the breadth. ' If j be the intensity
of horizontal shearing stress on the section GH, whose breadth is
jr„5x=-j-/ y^y.
STRENGTH OF MATEEIALS
605
But !M/!x is the whole shearing force Q on the section of the
beam. Hence
Q
and this is also the intensity of vertical shearing stress at the dis-
tance !/o from the neutral axis. Tliis expression may conveniently
be written q = QAyl:„l, where A is the area of the surface AG and i/
the distance of its centre of gravity froratho neutral axis. The
intensity j is a maximum at the neutral axis and diminishes to
zero at the top and bottom of tlie beam. In a beam of rectangular
section the value of the shearing stress at the neutral axis is q max.
— IQjbh. In other words, the maximum intensity of shearing stress
on any section is i of the mean intensity. Similarly, in a beam of
circular section the maximum is J of the mfean. This result is
'of Some importance iu application to the pins of pin-joints, which
may be treated as very short beams liable to give way by shearing.
I In the case of an I beam with wide flanges and a thin web, the
above expression shows that in any vertical section q is nearly con-
stant in the web, and insignificantly small in the flanges. Practi-
cally all the shearing stress is borne by the web, and its intensity is
very nearly equal to Q divided by the area of section of the web.
64. The foregoing analysis of the stresses in a beam, which
resolves them into longitudinal pull and push, due to bending
niomenr, along with shear in longitudinal and transverse planes, is
generally sutEcient in the treatment of practical cases. If, how-
ever, it is desired to find the direction and greatest intensity of
stress at any point in a beam, the planes of principal stress passing
through the point must be found by an application of the general
method given in the article Elasticity, chapter
iii. In the present case the problem is excep-
tionally simple, from the fact that the stresses
on two planes at right angles -are known, and
the stress on one of these planes is wholly tan-
gential. Let AC (fig. 39) be an indefinitely
Binall portion of the horizontal section of a
beam, on which there is only shearing stress, ■<■
and let AB be an indefinitely small portion of
the vertical section at the same place, on which
there is shearing and normal stress. Let q be
the intensity of the shearing stress, which is
the same on AB and AC, and let p be the in-
tensity of normal stress pn AB: it is reiiuired
to find a third plane BC, such that the stress
on it is wholly normal, and to find r, the in-
tensity of that stress. Let S be the angle (to be determined) which
BC makes with AB. Then the eciuilibrium of the triangular wedge
ABG requires that
rJiCmse=p. AB+ q. AC, and »-BCsin0 = j. AB ;
or {r~p)cosB = qsme, ani raiad = qccise.
Hence, g' = r(r-p),
tan2e-2<?/;;,
r-'ipiz'Vq^ + ip'.
The positive value of r is the greater principal stress, and is of the
same sign aa p. The negative value is the lesser principal stress,
which occurs on a plane at right angles to the former. The equa-
tion for 0 gives two values corresponding to the two planes of
principal stress. The greatest intensity of shearing stress occurs
on the pair of planes inclined at 45° to tho planes of principal
stress, and its value ia\/ q- + ~iir' (by § 5).
65. Tho above determination of r, the greatest intensity of stress
due to the combined effect of simple bending and shearing, is of
some practical importance in the case of the web of an I beam.
Wo have seen that the web takes practically the whole shearing
force, distributed- over it with a nearly uniform intensity q. If
there were no normal stress on a vertical section of tho web, tho
shearing stress q would give rise to two equal principal stresses, of
pull and push, each equal to q, in directions inclined at 45" to the
section. But the web has further to suffer normal stress due to
bending, tho intensity of which at points near the flanges approxi-
mates to the intensity on the flanges themselves. Hence in these
regions the greater principal stress is increased, often by a consider-
nblo amount, which m.ay easily be calculated from tlio foregoing
formula. What makes this specially important is the fact that
one of tho principal stresses is a stress of compression, which tends
to make tho web yield by buckling, and must bo guardad against
by a suitable stiffening of tho web.
The equation for 9 allows the lines of princip.il stress in a beam to
be drawn when the form of the beam and tho distribution of Icvls
are given. An example has been shown ia tho articio BuiDoiia
(§13, fig. 12), vol. iv. p. 290.
66. Tho dellexion of beams is due partly to tho distortion caused
by shearing, but chiefly to tho simple bending which occurs at
each vertical section. As regards the second, which in most cases
is the only import.int cause of deflexion, wo have seen (§ 59) that
the radius of curvature li at any section, due to a bonding moment
W, is EI/M, whicli may also bo written Ej/,//),. Thus beams of
"Jiiiform strength and ijeptli (and. a? n jiartioular case, beams of
uniform section subjected to a uniform bending moment) bend into
a circular arc. In other cases the form of the bent beam, and tho
resulting slope and deflexion, may bo determined by integrating
the curvature throughout tlio span, or by a graphic proaess (see
Bkidoes, § 25), which consists in drawing a curve to represent, the
beam with its curvature greatly exaggerated, after the radius of
curvature has been determined for a sufficient number of sections.
In all practical cases the curvature is so small that the arc and
chord are of sensibly the same length. Calling i the angle of
slope, and « the dip or deflexion from the chord, the equation to the
curve into which an originally straight beam bends may be written
dii . d-u di EI
dx ' dz- dx hi '
Integrating this for abeam of uniform section, ot span L, supportei
at its ends and loaded with a weight W at the centre, we have, fo
the greatest slope and greatest deflexion, respectively, t, = WL'/lGEl,
)ti = WLV48El. If the load W is uniformly distributed over L,
ii = WL724EI and«i = 5WLV3S4EL For other cases, see Bridges,
§24.
The additional slope which shearing stress produces in anj
originally horizontal layer is qJC, where q is, as before, the intensity
of shearing stress and C is the modulus of rigidity. In a round
,or rectangular bar the additional deflexion due to shearing is
scarcely appreciable. In an I beam, with a web only thick enough
to resist shear, it may be a somewhat considerable proportion of
the whole.
67. Torsion occurs in a bar to which equal and opposite couples
are applied, the axis, of tho bar being the axis of. the couples, and
gives rise to shearing stress in planes perpendicular to the axis.
Let AB (fig. 40) be a uniform circular shaft held fast at the.end A,
and twisted by
couple applied in
the plane BB. As-
suming the strain to
be within the limits
of elasticity, a radius
CD turns round to
CD', and a line AD ^^^p
drawn at any dis-
tance rfrom the axis,
and originally straight, changes into the helix AD'. Let 8 bo the
angle which this helix makes with lines parallel to the axis, or in
other words the angle of shear at the distance r from the axis, and
let i be the angle of twist DCD'. Taking two sections at a distance
dx from one another, we have the arc 8dx=rdi. Hence q, the
intensity of shearing stress iu a plane of cross-section, varies as r.
since g = C(? = Cr -r- . The resultant moment of the whole shearing
stress on each plane of cross-section is equal to the twisting
moment M. Tlius /■« » , tr
y2iri^qar='il.
Calling r, the outside radius (where the shearing stress is greatest)
and 7i its intensity there, we have q = rqjri, and hence, for n solid
shaft, 5'i = 2M/7rr,^ For a hollow shaft with a central hole of
radius r, the same reasoning applies : the limits of integration are
now j-j and r^, and 2Mr
The lines of principal stress are obviously helices inclined at 45° to
the axis.
If tho shaft has aiiy other form of section than a solid or sym«
metrical hollow circle, an originally straight radial liho becomes
warped when the shaft is twisted, and the shearing stress is no
longer proportional to tho distance from tho axis. The twisting of
shafts of squaie, triangular, and other sections has been investigated
by M. do St Vcnant (see Elasticity, § 66-71, whero a comparisob
of torsional rigidities is given). In a square shaft (sido-=.V) the
stress is greatest at tho middle of each side, and its intensity there'
is}, = M/0-281A^
For round sections tho nnglo of twist per unit of length ia
. q, 2JI . ,., , 2M
. = -ij ^-_ in solid and
irt?',''
Fig. 40.
in hollow shafts.
Oi TrCr,-' - — »C(r,-' - r,-")
' CS, In what has been said above it is assumed thut tho srrcay
is within the limit of elasticity. When tho twisting couplo i&
increased so that this limit is passed, plastic yielding begins "in
the outermost layer, and a larger proportion of tho whole stress
falls to bo borne by Layers nearer the centre. Tho case is similar
to that of a beam bent beyond tho elastic limit, described in § 67.
If wo suppose tho process of twisting to bo continued, and that
after passing tho limit of elasticity tho material is capable of ranct
distortion without further increase of shearing stress, tho distribu-
tion of stress on ahy cross section will finally havoan approyimately
uniform vuJuo qf, and tho moment of torsion will bo / iwT^g'dr
— Jir3'(rj' - r,'). In tho case of a solid shaft thi" gives for K t
1 Itanklso. Jpplfed Ucthanla, | '74
606
fe X It E N G T H O Jb' M A T E LI 1 A L S
Fig. 41.
value greater than it has when the stres-s in the outei-most layer only
teaches the intensity /, in the ratio of i to 3.i It is obvious from
this consideration that the ultimate strength of a shaft to resist
torsion is no more deducible fiom a knowledge of the ultimate
shearing strength' of the material than the ultimate strength of
a beam to resist bending is deducible from a knowledge of/t and/,.
It should be noticed also obat as regards ultimate strength a solid
shaft has an important advantage over a hollow shaft of the same
elastio strength, or a hollow shaft so proportioned that the gi'eatest
working intensity of stress is the same as in the solid shaft.
69. Timsiing combined with Loiigitiulinal Stress. — When a rod is
twisted and pi:Iled axially, or when a short block is twisted and com-
pressed axia'.ly, the greatest intensity of stress (the greater principal
stress) is to be found by compounding the longitudinal and shearing
stresses as in § 64. In a circnlarrod of radius r,, a total longitudi-
nal force P in the direction of the axis gives a longitudinal norma!
stress whose intensity ^i=P/irri'. A twisting couple M applied
to the same rod gives a shearing stress whoso gi-eatest intensity
}i=2il/irri^. The two together give risa to a pair of principal
stresses of intensities r=P/'Zirri-± V(2iI/7rri°)^-t'(P/27rri=)-, their
iuclinatiohs to theasis beingdefined by theetiuation tan 26 = 2M/riP,
and the terra under the square root is the greatest intensity of
shearing stress.
70. Twisting comlincd with Bending. — This important practical
case is realized in a crank-shaft (fig. 41). Let a force P be applie*!
at the crank-pin A at right
angles to the plane of the crank.
At any section of the shaft C
(between the crank and the
bearing), there is a twisting mo-
ment Ml = P . AB, and a bend-
ing moment M2= P. BC. There
is also a direct shearing force P, but this does not
rec^uire to be taken into account in calculating
the stress at points at the top or bottom of the
circumference (where the intensity is greatest),
since (by § 63) the direct shearing stress is dis
tributed so that its intensity is zero at these points. The stress
there is consequently made up of longitudinal normal stress (due
to bending), pi=4M^irri^, and shearing stress (due to torsion),
qi = 'i.tS.jTrr^. Combining these, as in § 64, we find for the prin-
cipal stresses>=2(JI„± VM?TM2=)/«-i% or j-=2P(BC±AC)/7rri3.
The greatest shearing stress is 2P . AC/to-,', and the axes of
principal stress are inclined so that tan 2fl = M,/M2 = AB/BC. The
axis of greater principal stress bisects the angle ACB .
. 71. Long Columns and Struts — Compression and Bending. — A
long strut or pillar, compressed by forces P applied at the ends in
the directioii of the axis, becomes unstable as regards flexure when
P exceeds a certain value. Under no circumstances can this value
of P be exceeded in loading a stmt. But it may happen that the
intensity of stress produced by smaller loads exceeds the safe com-
pressive strength of the material, in which case a lower limit of
!oad must be chosen. If the applied load is not strictly axial, if
the strut is not initially straight, if it is subject to any deflexion
by transverse forces, or if the modulus of elasticity is not unifoi-m
over each cross-section, — then loads smaller than the limit which
causes instability will produce a certain deflexion which fncreases
'with increase of load, and will give rise to a uniformly varying
stress of the kind illustrated in figs. 26 and 28. We shall first
consider the ideal casa in which the forces at the ends are strictly
axial, the strut perfectly straight and free from transverse loads
and perfectly symmetrical as to elasticity. • Two conditions have
to be distinguished — that in which the ends are left free to bend,
and that in which the ends are held fixed. In what follows, the
ends are supposed free to bend. The value of the load which
causes instability will be found by considering what force P applied
to ea6h end would suffice to hold an originally straight strut in
a bent state, supposing it to have received a small amount of
elastic curvature in any way. Using u as before to denote the
deflexion at any part of the length, the bending moment is Pj«,
and (taking the origin at the middle of the chord) the equation to
tlie elastic curve is
dH^-Vu
dm-' Ei ■
from wliich, for a strut of uniform section, m = m, coskVI'/EI. »i
being the deflexion at the centre, Now m=0 when x = \h (the
half length), and therefore \'L\/VIY.1=\t or au integral multiple
of \x. The smallest value (Jir) corresponds to the least force P.
Thus the force required to maintain the stmt in its curved state is
P=-!rEI/L-, and is independent of a,. This means that with this
particular value of P (which for brevity we shall write Pj) t^ie strut
will be in neutral equilibrium when bent ; with a value of P lessi.
than Pj it will be stable ; with a greater value it will be unstable.
Hence a load exceeding P, will certainly cause rupture. The value
|f! ■ . __
ISee ELAaliriTT, 55 10-29-
ttEI/L" applies to struts with round ends, or ends free to turn.
If the ends are fixed the elTcctive length for bending is reduced by
one half, so that Pj then is 4jrEl/L^. When one end is fixed and
the other is free Pj has an iutermediaie value, probably about
9jr=EI/4L2.
72. The above theory, which is Euler's, assigns Pj as a limit to
the strength of a strut on account of flexural instal>ility ; but a
stress less than P, may cause direct crushing. Let S be the area
of section, and f, the strength of the material to resist crushing.
Thxis a strut which conforms to the ideal conditions specified
above will fail by simple crushing if/^S is less than Pj, but by
bending if /:S is greater than Pj. Hence with a given material
and form of section the ideal strut will fail by direct crushing if
the length is less than a certain multiple of the least breadth (easily
calculated from the expression for P,), and in that case its sb'ength
will be independent of the length ; when the length is greater than
this the strut will yield by bending, and its strength diminishes
rapidly as the length is increased.
But the conditions .wbich the above theory assumes are never
realized in practice. The load is never strictly axial, nor the
strut absolutely straight to begin with, nor the elasticity uniform.
The result is that the strength is in all cases less than either ffi
or Pj. • Tli» t-act if itvjstions from axiality, from straightness,
and from uniformity of elasticity may be treated by introducing a '
term Expressing au imaginary initial deflexion, and in this way
Euler's theory may be so modified as to agree well with experimental
results on the fracture of struts, ^ and may be reconciled with the
observed fact that the deflexion of a strut begins gradually and
passes through stable values before the stage of instability is
reached. In consequence of this stable deflexion the stress of
compression on the inside edge becomes greater than P/'S, the stress
on the outside edge becomes less than P/S, and may even change
into tension, and the strut may yield by one or the other of these
stresses becoming greater than f, or fi respectively. As regards
the influence of length and moment of inertia of section on the
deflexion of struts, analogy to the case of beams suggest^j thit the
greatest deflexion consistent \rith stability will vary as L-/^, ft being
the least breadth, and the greatest and least stre^ at opposite
edges of the middle section, will consequently be
where o is a "coefficient depending on the material and the form
of the section. This gives, for the breaking load, P = S/i/(l + aL^jH'^
or - S/tlil- alr/b"), the smaller of the two being taken.
This ibrmula, which is generally known as Gordon's, can be made
to agree fairly with the resnlts of experiments on stmts of ordinary
proportions, when the valiies of/as well as a are treated as empirical
constants to be determined by trial with struts of the same class
as those to which the formula is to be applied. Gordon's formula
may also be arrived at in another way. For very short struts we have
seen that the breaking load is /^S, and for very long struts it is
ir=EI/L=. If we write P=/c^/(l-^/.SL«/7r'EI), we have a formula
which gives correct values in these two extreme cases, and inter-
mediate values for struts of medium length. By writing this
P=^/(l -f cSL- /I), and treating/ and c as empirical constants, we
have Gordon's formula, in' a slightly modified shape. Gordon's
formula is largely used ; it is, however, essentially empirical, and
it is only by adjustment of both constants that it can be brought
into agreement with experimental results.^ For values of the
constants, see Bkidges. In the case of fixed ends, c is to be divided
by 4.
73. Bursting Strength of Cirmlar Cylinders andSpheres. — Space
remains fpir the consideration of only one other mode of stress, of
great importance from its occurrence in boilers,
pipes, hydraulic and steam cylinders, and guns. .
The material of a hollow cylinder, subjected to
pressure from within, is thrown into a stress of
circumferential pull. When tl e thickness t is
small compared with the radius R, we may treat
this stress as uniformly distributed over the
thickness. Let p be the intensity of fluid pres-
sure within a hollow circular cylinder, and let
/ be the intensity of circumferential stress.
Consider the forces on a small rectangular plate
(fig. 42), with its sides parallel and. perpen-
dicular to the direction of the axis, of length I
and width RSe, S8 being the smaU. angle it
subtends .at the axis. Whatever forces act on this plate in the
direction of the axis are equal and opposite. The remaining I'orcest
which are in equilibrium, are P, the total pressure from within, and
a force Tat each side due to the circumferential stress. P ^^KS*
• See papers by Profs. Ayrton and Perry, T>ie Engineer, Dec. 10 and 24, ISSSr
and bjrT. C. Fidler, Uin. Proc. Inst. C.E., vol Ixxxvi. p. 261.
^ For experiments on the breaking strength of stJ-nts, .-^ee papers by Hodgkin-
son, PhU. Tram., 1840 ; Berkeley, Min. Proc. Jml. C.E., vol. iXi-; Chriatieu
Tram. Amer. Soe. Civ. Eng., 13S4.
Fig. 42.
S T R — ft T R
607
airt 'f* "fli. But by the triangla of forces (lig. 43) P=T5«. Hence
/=/'"/'•
The ends of the cylinder may or may not ba held together by
Jongitudinal stress in the cylinder sides ;
if they arc, then, whatever be the form of
the ends, a transverse section, the area
ot 'which is 2irK<, 1ms to hear a total force " r
inrR2 Hence, if /' be the intensity of Pig. 43.
longitudinal stress, /=^R/2< = i/.
74. A thin hollow sphero under internal pressnro has equal
circumferential pull in all directions. To find its valne consider
the plate of fig. 42. There are now four equal foi-ces T, on
each of the four sides, to equilibrate the radial force P. Hence
P = 2T59and/=7)R/2<.
75. When the thickness is not small compared with the radius,
the radial pressure is transmitted from layer to layer witli rerliiced
intensity, and the circumferential pull diminishes towards the out-
ride. In the case of a thick cyliiidor with free ends' we have to
deal- at any point with two principal sh-esses, radial and circum-
fiTcntial, which may be denot'id by p and ;j' respectively. Sup-
posing (as we may properly do in dealing with a cylinder whieh is
not very short) that s transverse section ori^nally plane remains
plane, the longitudinal strain is uniform. Since there is no longi-
tudinal stress this strain is duo entirely to the lateral action of the
stresses p and p', and its amount is {t> +p')lix?: Hence at all points
jJ-^pVconstant.^ Further, by considering the equilibrium of any
thin layer, as wo have already considered tliat of a tliin cylinder,
we liave -j-{pr)=p'.
These two equations give by integration, j)=C+C/r», and
I! Ti be the external and r, the internal radius, and p„ the
pressure on the inner surface, the conditions tliat p=Po wlien
r~r. and ?) = 0 when r=r, give .C = - ;)„r.V(r,a - j-j') and
C'= -Cr,-. Hence the circumferential stress at any radius r is
;/= -;>(,n=(l-fr, =/>■■-')/( n' -?•„=). At the inside, where this i?
greatest, its value is -p„(i-,- + »2=)/(r,= -!■/),— a quantity always
greater than^j, however thicit the cylinder is.
lu the construction of gnns Tarions devices have been used to
cijualize the circumferential tension. Witli cast guns a chilled
core has been employed to make the inner iayei-s solidify and cool
first, so tint they are afterwards conipresscil hy tlie later contiac-
tinn of the outer layers. In guns built up of wrouglit-iron or steel
lioojis the hoops are bored small by a regulated. amount and arc
shrnn!{ on over the barrel or over the inner hoops. In Mr Long-
ridge's systc ,1, now under trial, the gun is made by windin" steel
wire or ribbon, with suitable initial tension, on a ccutr.il Iianel.
76. The circumferential stress at any point of a thick liol'low
sphere exposed to internal iluid pressure is found, by a process like
that of the last paragraph, to be - ?V"2^(1 + ri^j1r^)j[r^ - r,,"), wliich
gives, for the greatest tension, the value
■Poir^^ + 2r/)/2(ri' - r,') . (J. A. E. )
STRICKLA]!inD lia-^B (1806-1874), a popular his-
torical writer, was corn in 180G, the third daughter of
Thomas Strickland, of Roydon Hall, Suffolk. Her first
literary efforts svere historical romances in verse in the style
of Walter Scottj — Worcester Field (published without date),
Demetrius and other Poems (1833). From this she passed
to prose histories, written in a simple style for the young.
A picturesque sketch of the Pilgrims of WaJsingham
appeared in 1835, two volumes of Tales and Stories from
Uistori/ in the following year. ' Then with the' assistance
of her sister she projected a more ambitious work, The
Lives of the Queens of England, from Mathilda of Flanders
to Queen Anne. ^ The first .volume appeared in 1840, the
twelfth and last in 1849. Miss Strickland was a warm
partisan on the side trf royalty and the church, but she
made industrious study of "official records and other
public documents," gave copious extracts from them, and
drew interesting pictures of manners and customs. Wiile
engaged on this work she found time to edit (in 1843)
the Letters of Mary, Qiuen of Scots, whoso innocence she
championed with enthusiasm. In 1850 she followed up
her Queens of Englxtnd with the Lives of the Queens of
Scotland, completing the series in eight volumes in 1859.
Unresting in her industry, she turned next to the Batchehr
King* of England, about whom she published a volume in
1861. The'iiws of the Seven Bishops followed in 186G —
after a longer interval, part of which was employed in
producing an abridged version of her Queens of England.
Iler last work was the Lives of the Last Four Stuart
Princesses, published in 1872. In 1871 she obtained a
civil list pension of £100 in recognition of her merits.
She died at Roydon Hall on tho 8th of July 1874.
A Life by her sister, Jane Margaret Strickland, appeared in 1887.
_ STRIEGAU, an industrial town of Frussia, in the pro-
vince of Silesia, is situated on a small tributary of the
Weistritz, 30 miles to the south-west of Breslau. In
1880 it contained 11,470 inhabitants, G928 of whom
were Protestants and 4379 Roman Catholics. Their chief
occupations are tanning and the manufacture of album.s,
portfolios, and other articles in leather. Granite is
> This crndlllon Is renllzcd In prnclicc wlicn llic fluid ciiiiiinelntcniul prosuro
Is held in liy a piston, und the stress liutwccn this piston niul (he nthov end ot tho
cylinder Is tskon by some other part of tho stnicuirc than the cylinder sldcj
^ ' The gnlullon which follows In tho t«t Is applicable even when there Is
.•onKlhiilmal stress, provided Hint tho Inntdtudlnnl alress Is nnUormly (llslrllinled
over each transverse scctltin. If ive call ihls ^trcss p", the lencllndlnnl strain Is
F /E+(p-l-p')/<rE. Since tho whole strain is uniform, and p'/ is uriifoim. tho sum
of p and p li conatant at bU polnw, da In tho case whcro tio ends aro tree
quarried in the neighbourhood, and a trade is carried on
in grain. It was near Striegau that Frederick the Groal
gained the important victory usually named alter -tha
village of Holienfriedborg (June 4, 1745)
STROMBOLI. See Lipaki Islands.
STRONTIUJI, a metallic cliemical element intermedi-
ate in its character between barium and calcium, with whicli
it forms a natural " triad." Though widely difiiised as a
frequent companion of calcium (including oceanic), it occurs
nowhere in abundance. Its most important mineral forms
are the sulphate, SrSO^, known as Calestine (from the
sky-blue colour of certain varieties), and the carbonate,
SrCOj, called Strontianile because it was discovered first
at Strontian, in Argyll.shirc, Scotland. Crawford and
(independently of him) Cruickslianks in 1790 were the
first to recognize the latter mineral as a thing of its own
kind and different from withcrite (I'.aCOa). Hope, in
1793, proved it to be tho carbonate of a new earth, which
discovery was confirmed by Klaproth.
Regarding met-allic strontium, sec Chemistrt, vol. v. pp. 525-6.
For the making of strontium preparations strontianite, of eouree,
w tho handier raw matorial, being rsadily convertible into (for
itistance) nitrate by tn-atment with dilute nitric acid. From the
nitrate the oxido, SiO, is obtained by prolonged calcination at
ultimately a bright red beat, as a grcyisli-whitc alwolutely infus-
ilile and non-volatile mass, wliioh acts violently on water with
formation of the hydrate, Sr(OH);, whieh latter readily takes up
SH;0 of water to form crj-stals soluble in fifty parts of cold and
far loss of boiling water. An impure oxido is obtainable directly
from strontianite by strong ignition with charcoal; and from such
crude oxido jiuro crystals of tho hydrate aro easily produced by
olivious ojicrations.
In the working up of ceelestine the' first step is to reduce it to
6ul])bide, SrS, by means of charcoal at a red heat Tho sulphide
when boiled with water is decomposed thus: —
2SrS -I- 2H„0 = SrOH.O -l- SiSTI„S.
Hydrate. Sulph-liydratc.
r.oth products dissolve in the hot water; from tho sohition the S
of the SrHjSj is easily eliminated, by treatment with oxide of eo]iper
or oxido of zinc, as insolublo metallic sulphide; tho filtrate on
cooling gives crystals of pure hydiatc. From it any strontia salt of
course is ca.sily made by means of the respective aciii ; in many cases
the salt wished for can be obtained similarly from the sulphide.
Nitrate of strontia from hot solutions ciyslallizcs in nnliydrnus
octahedra, SrN„0„, soluble in about A part of boiling and in ,'j
parts of cold water. I-'rom colder solutions liydralod crystals,
.SrN;0(, + 'Ill._.0, separate out Tho anhydrous salt is used largely
by ].yroteebniv.;~> for tho making of "rcil fire."
The hydroxide some years ago promised to play an important
nart in the sugar industry as a precipitant lor tlie cane-sugar
Known to bo jircsent largely in uiicryblalli^Jiblo molasses (-co
Suoar), but tlio process so far has foiled to take root in iudoslry.
608
8 T 11— S T I't
Analysis. — To detect strontium iu a salt-solution, wc first
eliminate tlic heavy metaU by tlio successive application of
sulphuretted hydrogen (and free acid) and of suljiliide of ammonium
in the presence of ammonia and sal-ammoniac. From the filtrate
carbonate of ammonia (in the heat) precipitates only the barium,
strontium, and calcium as carbonates, which are filtered off and
washed with hot water. The analysis of the precipitate is ditticult ;
but any strontia in it is easily detected by means of the spectroscope
(see Specteo.scopv).
STROPHANTHUS, a genus of plants of tlic natural
order Apocynex, deriving its name from the long twisted
thread-like segments of the corolla, which in one species
attain a length of 12 or 14 inches. The genus at present
comprises about 18 species, confined to tropical Africa and
Asia, only one species, indigenous to the former continent,
being known outside the tropics. Several of the African
species furnish the natives of the countries in which they
grow with the principal ingredient in their arrow poisons.
The in6e or onaye poison of the Gaboon, the komb6
poison of equatorial North Africa, the arquah poison of
the banks of the Niger, and the wanika poison of Zanzi-
bar are all derived from members of this genus. The
exact species used in each case cannot be said to be
accurately known. There is little doubt, however, that
S. hispidus, D.C., is the one most frequently employed.
Two of the arrow poisons have been chemically and physio-
logically examined. The kombe poison was subjected to some
preliminary experiments in 1862 by Prof. Sharpey, but was
more fully examined a few years subsequently by Prof T. R.
Fraser. From the investigations of the latter' it appears that
the komb^ arrow poison, when given in fatal doses, paralyses
the action of the heart. In minute doses, however, it possesses
a tonic action on that organ. Since the practical value of
strophanthus as a medicinal agent has been pointed out by Prof
Fraser, it has been used with considerable success in some forms of
heart-disease. The chemical examination showed that its activity
is due to a glucoside, which has been named strophanthin. The
wanika arrow poison has been examined physiologically by Dr
Sydney Ringer and chemically by Mr A. \V. Gerrard. Its active
principle, a glucoside, was found to resemble strophanthin in its
action. Chemically also, as obtained by Mr Gerrard, it seems to
be identical with strophanthin. ^ It is soluble in alcohol and water,
but insoluble in ether and chloroform ; it evolves ammonia when
heated with soda-lime, but gives only a slight brown coloration
when treated with strong sulphuric acid.
Both S. hispidus and S. Kombe have hairy seeds with a slender
thread-like appendage, ' terminating iu a feathery tuft of long
silky hairs, the seeds of the former being coated with short ap-
pressed brown hairs, and those of the latter with white hairs ; but
in the species used at Delagoa Bay and called "umtsuli" the
thread-like appendage of the seed is absent.' According to infor-
mation furnished by Messrs T. Christy & Company of London,
and obtained .from a correspondent on the Zanzibar coast, the
natives pound the seeds into an oily mass, which assumes a red
colour, portions of this mass being smeared on the arrow immedi-
ately benind the barb.
See 7con€j Plantarum, No. 4, 1870; Pellkan, Arch. Gen. de Medicine, July
1865, p. 115; Van Hasselt, Arch. Jfeerl. des Sc, [21, vll., 1S72, p. 161; Arch.de
Physiol., No. 6, 1872, p. 52G ; Rapporl sur I'Inaye, Tans, 1877, 8vo.
STROUD, a market-town of Gloucestershire, is situated
on the Swindon and Gloucester branch -of the Great
Western Railway, on a branch of the Midland Railway,
and on the Thames and Severn Junction Canal, 10 miles
south of Gloucester and 30 north-east of Bristol. It is
picturesquely situated on an eminence environed by higher
hills, but is built in a somewhat straggling and irregular
fashion. Among the principal buildings are the town-hall,
built in the reign of Elizabeth, the Lansdown hall (1879),
the Badbrook hall (1869), with reading-room and large
room for concerts, the subscription rooms (1834), and
the hospital, erected in 1875 at a cost of £8754, to
replace the dispensary erected in 1823. The town is the
principal seat of the west of England cloth manufacture,
and possesses very extensive mills. There are also silk
mills, ^carlet-dye works, breweries, logwood-crushing mills,
' See Proc. Hoy. Soe. Edin., 1809-1870, p. 99; reprinted iu
:<mr. Anat. and Physiol., vol. vii. pp. 140-155.
■« Pharm. Jour., [3], xi. pp. 834, 835.
and nour-mills. Stroud at tlie time of the Normaa survey
was part of Bisley parish, from which it was separated irj
1304. The local board was established in 1857. The
population of the urban sanitary district (area 999 acres)
in 1871 was 7082, and in 1«81 it w&s 7848.
STRUENSEE, Johann Feiedrich, Count (1737-
1772), Danish statesman, was of German extraction, and
was born August 5, 1737, at Halle, where Lis father Adam
Struensee, of some e;iiinence as a hymn writer, was pastor.
He graduated M.D. at Halle in 175C, and obtained the
office of physician to the town of Altona through tlic-
influence of his father, who had removed thither. Or>
account, however, of a change in his religious views he
quarrelled with his father, and for some time he led an
unsettled life, until in 17G8 he was appointed personal
physician to the young king. Christian VII. of Denmark,
whom he accompanied on a tour through England, France,
Holland, and Germany. The influence he exercised over
the almost imbecile king awakened at first the jealousy
of the queen, Caroline Matilda, a daughter of George II.,
but. Laving Lad occasion to attend Ler for a severe
malady, Le won Ler complete confidence also, and became
equally the favourite of both. When therefore in 1770
Le was appointed master of requests, he virtually took the
government of the kingdom into Lis own Lands, and or>
tLe 20th September the council of state was superseded.
Though acting as an absolutist, Lis sympatLies were
democratic, and Le used Lis position to promot<T^ the
general benefit of the people and to curb tLe influen<;e of
the nobilitj'. The extent of his reforms, and the sudden-
ness with which they were introduced. Lad all tLe practical
effect of a revolution. TLey included tLe enfranchisement
of the peasants, complete religious toleration, the abolition
of commercial restrictions, the reorganization of the army,
and the introduction of examinations for public offices.
His reforms were received with consternation, and a con-
spiracy was entered into to effect Lis overthrow. The
queen dowager persuaded Christian VII. that Struensee
was carrying on an intrigue with the queen, and Lad
entered into a plot to assassinate him, in order that he
might rule as regent. He and Lis friend Count Brandt
were consequently arrested on 20th February 1772. TLe
attempt to prove that Le Lad been unfaithful in his duty
as minister to the king failed, but Le did not deny the
liaison with the queen, and Le and Count Brandt were
both beheaded and quartered on the 28th April (soe
Denmauk, vol. vii. p. 87).^
See Zcben und Bcgehenlicilcn dcr Orafcn Struensee urtd Brandt,
1772; Memoirs of an Unfortunate Queen, London, 1776; Host,
Struensee og hans Minisierium, Copenhagen, 1824 ; Jenssen-Tusch,
Die Verschioorung gcgcn die Konigin KaroUne Mathilde und die
Orafcn Struensee und Brandt, nach Usher ungedrOckten Original-
aelen, Leipsie, 1864; Wraxall, Life and Times of Queen Caroline.
1864 ; K. Wittich, Struensee, Leipsie, 1879.
STRUVE, Feiedrich Geoeo Wilhelm (1793-1864),
astronomer, was born at Altona on AprU 15, 1793. Id
1808 Le entered tLe university of Dorpat, wLere Le first
studied philology, but soon turned Lis attention to
astronomy. In 1813 Le was appointed observer in the
new university observatory and a- few years later professor
of astronomy. He remained in Dorpat, occupied with
researches on double stars and in geodetic work, till 183?,
wLen Le removed to Pulkova, near St Petersburg, ai
director of tLe new Central Observatory. Here Le con
tinued Lis activity until Le was obliged to retire (in 1861 .
owing to failing health. He died at St Petersburg oa
November 23, 1864.
' Carl Gustav St uensee von Carlsbach, elder brother of JohauD
Friedrich, born at H.ille 18th August 1735, attained high eminence
in the service of Prussia. He was ennobled in 1789, became minister
of finance and president of the excise department in 1791. and died al
Berlin 17th October 1804.
S T K — S T U
609
Struve's name is best known by liis obscivations of iIon!i!o stars,
wliicli lie carried oil lor many years. Tlicso bodies liad first liceii
rc^'iilarly nicasiircil by W. Hcrscbcl, who discovered that many of
them formed systems of two stars revolving round their common
centre (if gravity. After liimJ. Herschpl(and forsonie time South)
had observed them, buttlieir labours were eclipsed by thcsystematiu
and more extensive ones of Struvc. With tho 9i-inch refiaetor at
Dorpat h» JUroveivd n great number of double stars, and published
m lS-27 a list of all tho known objects of this kind {Catalorjiis
Xovii' Slcllni-uni DiipUciam). His micrometric measurements of
2714 double stars were made from 1S24 to 1837, and are contained
in his [irincipid work Stcllaram Diipliciuni, ct MuUij/liciiim Mcnsnra:
Mlcro)iiclricx (St Petersburg, 1837, fol. ; a convenient summary of
tho results is given in vol. i. of tlio Dimcflil Observatory fubtica-
lions, 1876). The places of tlie objects were at the same time
determined with the Uorpat meridian circle {SlcUariim Fixarmii
Iiiiprimis DupUciam ct MultipUcium Posilioncs Medial, St Peteis-
burg, 1852, fob). At Pulkova he determined anew the constant of
nbcrration, but was chiefly occupied in working out the results of
former years' work and in the completion of the geodetic operations
in whirli he had been engaged during the greater jiart of his life.
He had commenced them with a survey of Livonia (1816-19), which
was followed' by the measurement of an are of meridian of more
than 3^° in tho Baltic provinces of Russia (Besehreibuiig der
Breiteiu/radjiiessuiig in den OslsceprovimcH Jlusshiiids, 2 vols. 4to,
Dorpat, 1831). This work was afterwards extended by Struve and
General Tenner into a measurement of a meridional arc from tho
north coast of Norway to Ismail on tho Danube {Arc du Mcridicn
de 25° 20' entrc le Danube ct la ^fer Glaciali, 2 vols, and 1 vol.
plates, St Petersburg, 18.")7-60, 4to).
STRY, or Stryj, a town of Galicia, Austria, is pleasantly
situated on a tributary of the Dniester, about 40 miles to
the south of Lemberg. In 1880 it contained 12,625
inhabitants, chiefly engaged in tanning and the manu-
facture of matches. In 1886, however, the town was
almost wholly destroyed by. fire, and its population was
greatly reduced by the wholesale migration and deaths
from privation consequent upon this calamity.
STRYCHNINE. See Poisons, vol. xix. p. 279, "and
Nux Vomica, vol. xvii. p 687.
STRYPE, John (1643-1737), historian and biographer,
was the son of John Strypo or Van Stryp, a native of
Brabant, who to escape religious persecution went to
England, and settled near London, in a locality after-
wards known as Strype's Yard, formerly in the parish of
Stepney, but subsequently annexed to that of Christ
Church, Spitalfield.s. Here he carried on the business of
a merchant and silk throwster. The son was born 1st
November 1643. He was educated at St Paul's School,
and on 5th July 1662 entered Jesus College, Cambridge.
Thence he proceeded to Catherine Hall, where he gradu-
ated B.A. in 1665 and M.A. in 1669. On the 14th July
of the latter year he was preferred to the curacy, of
Theydon-Bois, Essex, and a few months afterwards was
chosen curate and lecturer of Low Leyton in the same
county. On account of the smallness of the salary, tho
patron allowed tho people to choose their own minister,
the vacancy in tho vicarage remaining unfilled during the
life of Strype. Ho was never instituted or inducted, but
in 1674 he was licensed by the- bi.shop of London to
preach and expound the word of God, and to perform tho
full office of priest and curate during tho vacancy of the
vicarage. In his later yeara ho obtained from Archbishop
Tenisou the sinecure of Tarringj Sussex, and ho dis-
charged tho duties of lecturer at Hackney ti'l 1724.
When he became infirm he took up his residence with, ^Ir
Harris, an apothecary at Hackney, who had murried his
daughter, and died there 11th December 173' at the
advanced age of ninety-four.
At an early period of his life Stryp* obtained access to the papers
of Sir Michael Hicks, secretary to Lord Burghley, from which he
made c.ttensivc transcripts; ho also carried on an extensive cor-
respondence with Archbishop Wake and Bishops Burnet, Atter-
bury, and Nicholson. Tho materials thus obtained formed tho
basis of his historical Riid biographical works, which relate chielly
to tho period of tho Reformation. Tho greater portion of his
original materials have been preserved, and arc included iu tho
Lansuownc manuscripts in tho British Museum. His works can
scarcely be entitled original compositions, his laliour having con-
sisted chiefly in the arrnngcinent of his niatcrials, but on this
Very :ucount tliey arc of considerable v.alno as convenient books
of reference, easier of access and almost as tru^tworthy as tho
original doeuments. Besides a number of single sermons )iublishcd
at various ncriods, lie was the author of an edition of Lightlbot's
lVor!:s, vol. ii., 10S4; Memorials of AreUbishop Cmitmer. 1094;
Life of Sir Tiioinas Smith, 1098 : Lijfe and Actions of John Aylmcr,
Biskop of London, 1701 ; Life of Sir John Vlukc, tcil/i his Jrcatiir.
on Superstition, 1705 ; Annals of the Iteformation in England,
4 vols., vol. i. 1709 (reprinted 1725), vol. ii. 1725, vol. iii. 1728,
vol. iv. 1731; 2d cd. 1735, 4 vols. ; 3d cd. 1736-38, 4 vols.;
Life and Aetiuns^f Edniuml Grindal, Archbishop of Canterbury,
1710, of Matthew Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury, 1711, and (/
John IVIiit'iift. Archbishop of Cantcrburij, 1818; An, Accurate
Edition of Sloiv's Survey of London, 1720, 2 vols. fol. , the standard
edition of Stow and of great value, although its interference with
tho original text is a method of editing which can scarcely be
reckoned fair to tho original author; and Ecclesiastical Memorials,
1721, 3 vols.; 1733, 3 vols.; new ed, 1816. His Historical and
Biographical IVorks were published in 10 vols., with a general
index, 1820-40.
STUART, Stewakt, or Steuart, the surname of a
family who became heirs to the Scottish and ultimately
to the English crown. Their descent is traced to a
Norman baron Alan, whose eldest son William became
progenitor of the earls of Arundel, and whose two )'ounger
sons Walter and Simon came to Scotland, Walter being
appointed high steward of David I., who conferred on
him various lands in Renfrewshire, including Paisley,
where he founded the abbey in 1160. Walter, his grand
son, third steward, was appointed by Alexander II.
justiciary of Scotland, and, dying in 1246, left four sons
and three daughters. The third son Walter obtained by
marriage the earldom of Menteith, which ultimately came
by marriage to Robert, duke of Albany, third son of
Roberi, II. Alexander, fourth steward, the eldest son of
Walter, third steward, inherited by his marriage with
Jean, granddaughter of Somerled, the islands of Bute and
Arran, and on 2d October 1263 aefeated Haco at Largs.
He had two sons, James and John. The latter, who com-
manded the men of Bute at the. battle of Falkirk in 1298,
had seven sons : — (1 ) Sir Alexander, whose grandson became
in 1389 earl of Angus, the title afterwards passing in tho
female line to the Douglases, and in 1761 to the duke of
Hamilton ; (2) Sir Alan of Dreghorn, ancestor of the earls
' and dukes of Lennox, from whom Lord Darnley, husband
of Queen Mary, and also Arabella Stuart, were descended ;
(3) Sir Walter, who obtained the barony of Garlics,
Wigtownshire, from his uncle John Randolph, earl of
Moray, and was tho ancestor of the carls of Galloway,
younger branches of the family being the Stewarts of
Tonderghio, Wigtownshire, and also those of Physgill and
Glenturk in the same county ; (4) Sir James, who fell at
Dupplin in 1332, ancestor of the lords of Lorn, on whoso
descendants were conferred at different periods tho
earldoms of Athole, Buchan, and Traquair, and who were
also tho progenitors of tho Stewarts of Appin, Argyllshire,
and of Grandtully, Perthshire; (5) Sir John, killed nt
Halidon Hill in 1333; (6) Sir Hugh, who fought under
Edward Bruce in Ireland; and (7) Sir, Robert of Dal-
dowie, ancestor of tho Stewarts of AUanton and of Colt-
ness. James Stewart, tho eldest son of Alexander, fourth
steward, succeeded his father in 1 283, and, after distin-
guishing himself in tho wars of Wallace and of Bruce, died
in 1309. His son Walter, sixth stewaW, who had joint
command with Douglas of the left wing at tho battle of
Bannockburn, married Jfarjory, daughter of Robert the
Bruce, and during the latter's absence in Ireland \\&s
entrusted with tho government of the kingdom. lie died
in 1326, leaving an imly son, who as Robert XL ascended
tho throne of Scotland in 1370 (see vo). xxi. p. 490).
Sir Alexander Stewart, carl of Buchan, fourth son of
XXIL — 77
610
S T U A R T
Robert II., who earned by Lis ferocity the title of the
" Wolf of Badeiioch," inherited by his wife the earldom of
Ross, but died without legitimate issue, although from
his illegitimate oflnpring were descended the Stewarts of
Belladrum, of Athole, of Garth, of Urrard, and of St Fort.
On the death of the "Wolf of Badenoch" the earldom of
Buchan passed to his brother Robert, duke of Albany, also
earl of Fife and earl of Menteith, but these earldoms were
forfeited on the execution of his son Murdoch in 1425, the
earldom of Buchan again, however, coming to tlie house of
Stewart in the person of James, second son of Sir James
Stewart, the black knight of Lorn, by Johanna, widow
of King James I. From Murdoch, duke of Albany, were
descended the Stewarts of Ardvoirlich and other families
of the name in Perthshire, and also the Stuarts of Inch-
breck and Laithers, Aberdeenshire. From a natural son
of Robert II. were descended the Steuarts of Dalguise,
Perthshire, and from a natural sou of Robert III. the
Shaw Stewarts of Blackball and Greenock. The direct
male line of the royal family terminated with the death of
James V. in 1542, whose daughter Mary was the first to
adopt the spelling " Stuart." Mary was succeeded in her
lifetime in 1567 by her only son James VI., who through
his father Lord Darnley was. also head of the second
branch, there being no surviving male issue of the family
from progenitors later than Robert II. In James V., son
of James IV. by Margaret, daughter of Henry VII., the
claims of the English junior branch became merged in the
Scotti-sh line, and on the death of Queen Elizabeth of
England, last surviving offshoot of Henry VIIL, James
VI. of Scotland, lineally the nearest heir, was proclaimed
king of England, in accordance with a declaration of
Elizabeth that no minor person should ascend the throne,
but her cousin the king of Scots. The accession of James
was, however, contrary to the will of Henry VIII., which
favoured the Suff'olk branch, whose succession would
probably have marvellously altered the complexion of both
Scottish and English history. As it was, the only result
of that will was a tragedy initiated by Elizabeth, but con-
summated by James, so as to clothe his memory with deep
disgrace. In the Scottish line the nearest heir after James
VI., both to the Scottish and English crowns, was Arabella
Stuart, only child of Charles, earl of Lennox, younger
brother of Lord Darnley, — Lady Margaret Douglas, the
mother of Darnley and his brother, having been the
daughter of Archibald, sixth earl of Angus by JIargaret,
queen dowager of James IV. James VI. (L of England)
was thus nearest heir of the junior Enghsh branch by a
double descent, Arabella Stuart being next heir by a single
descent. On account of the descent from Henry VII., the
jealousy of Elizabeth had already caused her to imprison
Arabella's mother (Elizabeth, daughter of Sir William
Cavendish) on learning that she' had presumed to marry
Lenno,x. The daughter's marriage she was determined by
every possible means to prevent. She objected when King
.James proposed to marry her to Lord Esme Stuart, whom
[je had created duke of Lennox, but when the appalling
news reached her that Arabella had actually found a lover
in William Seymour, grandson of Catherine Grey, heiress
of the Suffolk branch, she was so deeply alarmed and
indignant that she immediately ordered her imprisonment.
This happened immediately before Elizabeth's death, after
which she obtained her release. Soon after the accession
of James a conspiracy, of which she was altogether
ignorant, was entered into to advance her to the throne,
but this caused no alteration in her treatment by James,
who allowed her a maintenance of £800 a year. In
February 1610 it was discovered that she was engaged to
Seymour, and, although she then promised never to marry
him without the king's consent, the marriage took place
secretly in July following. In consequence of this her
husband was .sent to the Tower, and she was placed in
private confinement. Though separated, both succeeded
in escaping simultaneously on 3d June 1611; but, less
fortunate than her husband, who got safe to the Con-
tinent, she was captured at the Straits of Dover, and shut
up in the Tower. Her hopeless captivity deprived her of
her reason before her sorrows were ended by death, 27th
September 1615.
By the usurpation of Cromwell the Stuarts were
excluded from the throne from the defeat of Charles I. at
Naseby in 1645 until the restoration of his son Charles
II. in 1661. Carlyle refers to the opinion of genealogists
that Cromwell " was indubitably either the ninth or the
tenth or some other fractional. part of half a cousin of
Charles Stuart," but this has been completely exploded
by Walter Rye, in the ■Geiualof/ist ("The Steward Gene-
alogy and Cromwell's Royal Descent," new ser., vol. ii. jip.
.34-42). On the death of Charle.« II. without issue in
1685, his brother James, duke of York, ascended the
throne as James II., but he so alienated the sympathies
of the nation by his unconstitutional efforts to further the
Cafiholic religion that an invitation was sent to the prince
of Orange to come "to the rescue of the laws and religion
of England." Next to the son of James II., still an
infant under his father's control, Mary, princess of Orange,
eldest daughter of James II., had the strongest claim to
the crown ; but neither were the claims of the prince, even
apart from his marriage, very remote, since he was the
son of Mary, eldest daughter of Charles 1 The marriage
had strengthened the claims of both, and they were pro-
claimed joint sovereigns of England on 12th February 1689,
Scotland following the example of England on the 11th
April. They had no issue, and the Act of Settlement
passed in 1701, excluding Catholics from the throne,
.secured the succession to Anne, second daughter of James
II., and on her death without is.sue to the Protestant
House of Hanover, descended from the princess Elizabeth,
daughter of James I., wife of Frederick, count palatine of
the Rhine. On the death of Anne in 1714, George,
elector of Hanover, elde.st son of Sophia, electress of
Hanover (only surviving child of the princess Elizabeth),
and Ernest, youngest son of George, duke of Brunswick,
consequently became sovereign of Great Britain and
Ireland, and, notwithstanding somewhat formidable at-
tempts in behalf of the elder Stuart line in 1715 and
1745, the Hanoverian succession has remained uninter-
rupted, and has ultimately won universal assent. The
female line of James II. ended with the death of his
daughter. Queen Anne. James, called James III. by the
Jacobites and the Old Pretender by the Hanoverians, had
two sons, — Charles Edward, the Young Pretender, who
died without legitimate issue in 1780, and Henry, titular
duke of York, commonly called Cardinal York, at whos9
death in 1807 the male line of James II. came to an end.
He was also the la.st lineal male representative of any of
the crowned heads of the race, so far as either England
or Scotland was concerned, and excepting of course the
Hanoverian line In the female Stuart line there are,
however, still nearer heirs to the throne than those of the
Hanoverian line, viz., the descendants of Henrietta, duchess
of Orleans, dau; iter of Charles I., represented now only
in Maria There a, married to Prince Louis Leopold of
Bavaria, and their nine children. The male representation
of the family, being extinct in the royal lines, is claimed
by the earls of Galloway and also by the Stewarts of
Castlemilk, but the claims of both are more than doubtful.
See Sir George Mackenzie's Defence of the Moyal Line of Scotland,
1685, and Antiquity of the Royal Line of Scotland, 1686 ; Craw-
fiinl's GenealoQical Bistory of the Royal and Jlhistriotis Fumily of
S T U — S T U
Gil
Vic Sluans, 1710; Duncan SloH;irt's C/i^ncahriical AeeouiU of tlif. i
Suniame of atetmrl, 17'M; AiiUievv Stuart's GcntalogiaU History I
of the Slitarts, 1798; Stolhert's House of Sluarl, privately luhiteil,
1355; Ati Abstract of the Evidence Co prove that Sir irHliam Stewart
ff Jed'.oorlh, the Paternal Ancestor of the Present Sari ofValloway, .
icas the Second Son of Sir Alexander Stewart of Darnley, 1801 ;
Towueiid's Descendants of the Stuarts, 1858; Bailey, The Succession
io the English Crown, 1S70. i:T. V. H.)
STUART, Gilbert (1755-1828), a distinguished Amur- i
lean portrait-jiainter, was born in Narvagansett,. Rhode |
Island, U.S., December 3, 1755. His father, a native of
Perth, Scotland, and the son of a Presbyterian minister,
liad set up a snuif-mill in Narragansett, in company with
another Scotsman, Dr Thomas Jloffatt, and was Icnown as
"the snutf-grinder." The father removed early to New-
port, where his son had the advantage of good instruc-
tion.. He began to draw early, but none of his sketches
have lieen preserved. His first' known pictures are of
two Spanish dogs, and two portraits, the latter painted
when he was thirteen years old, and now in the Redwood
Library, Newport. In 1770-71 he received some instruc-
tion from a Scottish artist named Cosmo Alexander, who
took him to Scotland with him ; but, this patron dying
soon after his arrival, Stuart, after struggling for a while
at the university of Glasgow, had to work his way home
in a collier. In the spring of 1775 he sailed again for
England, and became the pupil and assistant of Benjamin
West, with whom he painted until 17S5, when he set up a
studio of his own. One of his best pictures of this period
is a full-length portrait of W. Grant of Congalton skating
ill St James's Park, now at ]\Ioor Court, Stroud, ia the
possession of Lord Charles Pelham Clinton. Two fine
iialf-lengths by Stuart are in the National Gallery — his
preceptor Benjamin West and the engraver Wofllett.
Stuart married in London and remained there, with the
exception of a short visit to Dublin in 1788, until 1792,
when he returned to America. Early in 1795 Stuart
painted his first head of Washington. This portrait
exhibits the right side of the face, and, although the least
familiar, is undoubtedly the truest of the three portraits of
Washington from his hand. Tlie second was a full-length
for the marquis of Lansdowne, and the third a vignette
bead now belonging to the Athensum in Boston, U.S.
These last two show tlie left side of the face, and, although
they are the readily recognized " Stuart's Washington," are
unsatisfactory as portraits and inferior as works of art.
There are sixty-one replicas of these three pictures, and
they have been engraved more than two hundred times.
In the catalogue of Stuart's works are recorded seven
hundred and fifty-four portraits. Stuart remained in
Philadelphia, where he painted many of the prominent
men of the countrj', until 1803, when he removed to
"Washington; two years later he went to Boston, where he
died July 27, 1828.
Stuart's pictures havo been little injured by time, wliiuli is doubt-
less owing to his use of pure colours and to his manner of employ-
ing them. His practice was to lay all the tiuts in their places
separately and distinctly alon^sijo of each other before any blend-
ing was used, and then they wero united by means of a large soft
brush and without corrupting their freshness. It is this method
that gives the firmness and solidity to his flesh work. A marked
feature of Stuart's work is tho total absence of all lines, his work
being painted in with tho brush frtim the beginning. It is this
process that gives to his modelling its strength and rotundity.
Stuart was pre-eminent as a colourist, and his place, judged by tho
liighcst canons in art, is unquestionably among the lew recognized
masters of portraiture.
STUART, John M'Douall (1818-186G), a South-Aus-
tralian explorer, was born in England in 1818 and arrived
in the colony about 1839. He accompanied Captain Sturt's
1,84:4-45 expedition as draughtsman, and between 1858 and
1862 he made six expeditions into the interior, the last of
which brought him on July 24 to tho shores of tho Indian
Ocean at Port Darwm, the fii-st to have crossed the island
continent from .south t,^ north. It was tins transcon-
tinental expedition which led to the territorial rights, and,
in defiance of geographical position, .the name of South
Austrelia ooing oxtended over so much of central and north
.'Vustralia. Stuart was rewarded with £3000 and a grant
of 1000 square miles of grazing country in the interior
rent free for seven years. His name is perpetuated by
Central Mount Stuart. He died in England June 5, 186G.
STUHLWEISSENBURG (Hung. Hzikes-Fehervdr; Lat.
Alba lier/ia), the capital of the county of Feher, and in
former times also of Hungary, is situated in 47° 11' N. lat.
and 18° 25' E. long., in a fertile plain. It is the see of one
of the oldest bishoprics in the country, and has a number
of religious charities, convents, and nunneries, a seminary,
a gymnasium, and a real school. It was the coronation
and burial place of the Hungarian kings from the 10th to
the 16th century, but has sunk into comparative insigni-
ficance. A few years ago some very remarkable excava-
tions were made here. The town is now chiefly agri
cultural ; its fairs, especially for horses, are famous. 'The
population (1885) numbers 27,000.
STURGEON. Sturgeons (/Ic!p«isec)aro a small group
of fishes, of which some twenty different species are known,
from European, Asiatic, and North American rivers. The
distinguishing characters of this group, as well as its
position in the system, have been sufficiently indicated in
the article Ichthyology (vol. xii. p. 6S7). They pass a
great part of the year in the sea, but periodically ascend
large rivers, some in spring to deposit their spawn, others
later in the season for some purpose unknown ; only a few
of the species are exclusively confined to fresh water.
Noue occur in the tropics or in the southern hemisphere.
Sturgeons are found in the greatest abundance in the
rivers of southern Russia, . more than ten thousand fish
being sometimes caught at a single fishing-station in the
fortnight during which the up-stream migration lasts.
They occur in less abundance in the fresh waters of North
Ame'rica, where their capture is not confined to the river.<«,
the majority being caught in shallow portions of the shores
of the great lakes. In Russia the fisheries are of immense
value ; yet but little is known of the sturgeon's habits,
life, and early stages of development or growth. Early in
summer the. fish migrate into the rivers or towards the
shores of freshwater lakes in large shoals for breeding
purposes. The ova are very small, and so numerous that
one female has been calculated to produce about three
millions in one season. The ova of some species have been
observed to hatch within a very few days after exclusion.
Probably the growth of the young is very rapid, but we
havo no knowledge as to the length of time for which the
fry remain in fresh water before their first migration to
the sea. After they have attained maturity their growth
appears to be much slower, although continuing for many
years. Frederick tho Great attempted to introduce the
sterlet into Prussia, and placed a number of this fish in the
Gorland Lake in Pomcrania about 1780; some of these
were found to be still alive in 18G6, and therefore hod
reached an age of nearly ninety years. Prof. Von Baei
also states, as tho result of direct observations made in
Russia, that the hausen {Acipenser huso) attains to an age
of from 200 to 300 years. Sturgeons ranging from 8 to
11 feet in length are by no means scarce, and some species
grow to a much larger size.
Sturgeons are ground-feeders. With their projecting
wedge-shaped snout they stir up tho .soft bottom, and by
means of their sensitive barbels detect shcILs, crustaceans,
and small fishes, on which they feed. Destitute of teeth,
they arc unable to seize larger prey.
In countries like England, where few .sturtteons nra
612
S T U — S T U
caught, the fish is consumed fresh, the flesh being firmer
than that of ordinary fishes, well-flavoured, though some-
what oily. The sturgeon is included, as a royal fish in an
Act of King Edward II., which assigns to the sovereign all
wrecks and whales, although it probably but rarely graces
the royal table of the present period, or even that of the
lord mayor of London, who can claim all sturgeons caught
in the Thames above London Bridge. Where sturgeons
are regularly caught in
large quantities, as on
the rivers of southern
Russia and on the
great lakes of North
America, their flesh
is dried, smoked, or
salted. The ovaries,
which are of large size,
are prepared for caviare ; for this purpose they are beaten
with switches, and then pressed through sieves, leaving
the membranous and fibrous tissues in the sieve, whilst the
eggs are collected in a tub. The quantity of salt added to
them before they are finally packed varies with the season,
scarcely any being used at the beginning of winter. Pin-
ally, one of the best sorts of isinglass is manufactured
from the air-bladder. After it has been carefully removed
from the body, it is washed in hot water, and cut open
in its whole length, to separate the inner membrane,
•which has a soft consistency, and contains 70 per cent.
of glutin.
The twenty species of sturgeons {Acipenser) are nearly
equally divided between the Old and New Worlds. The
more important are the following : —
(i; The Common Sturgeon of Europe {Acipenser slurio) occurs on
all the coasts of Europe, but is absent in the Black Sea. Alqiost
all the British specimens of sturgeon belong to this species ; it
crosses the Atlantic and is not rare on the coasts of North America.
It reaches a large size (a length of 12 feet), but is always caught
singly or in pairs, so that it cannot be regarded as a lish of com-
mercial importance. The form of its snout varies with age (as in
the other species), being much more blunt ^nd abbreviated in old
than in young examples. There are 11-13 bony shields along the
back and 29-31 along the side of the body.
(2) Acipenser guldcnslddiii is one of the most valuable species of
the rivers of Russia, where it is known under the name "Ossetr";
it is said to inhabit the Siberian rivers also, and to range east-
wards as far as Lake Baikal. It attains to the same large size as
the common sturgeon, and is so abundant in the rivers of the
Black and Caspian Seas that more than one-fourth of the caviare
and isinglass manufactured in Russia is derived from this species.
_ (3) Acipenser stcllalus, the " Seuruga " of the Russians, occurs
likewise iu great abundance in the rivers of the Black Sea and of
the Sea cf Azoff. It has a remarkably long and pointed snout, like
the sterlet, but simple barbels without fringes. Though growing
only to about half the size of the preceding species, it is of no less
value, its flesh being more highly esteemed, and its caviare and
isinglass fetching a higher price. In 1850 it was reported that
more than a million of this sturgeon are caught annually.
(4) The sturgeon of the great lakes of North America, Acipenser
ruhmmdus, with which, in the opinion of American ichthyologists,
the sea-going stiirgoon of the rivei-s of eastern North America,
Acipenser maculosiis, is identical, has of late years been made the
object of a large and profitable industry at various places on Lakes
Michigan and Erie ; the flesh is smoked after being cut into strips
and after a slight pickling iu brine ; the thin portions and oflal are
boiled down for oil ; nearly all the caviare is shipped to Europe.
One firm alone uses from tea to eighteen thousar. i sturgeons a
year, averaging fifty pounds each. The sturgeons of the Likes are
unable to migrate to the sea, whilst thosd below the Falls of Niagara
are great wanderers; and it is quite possible that a specimen of
this species said to have been obtained from the Firth of Tay was
really capturevi ou the coast of Scotland.
(5) Acipenser huso, the "Hansen" of Germany, is recognized
by the absence of osseous scutes on the snout and by its flattened,
tapo-like barbels. It is one of the largest species, reaching the
enormous length of 24 feet and a weight of 2000 pounds. It
inhabits the Caspian and Black Seas and the Sea of Azoff, whence
in former years large shoals of the fish entered the large rivers of
Russia and the Danube. But its numbers have been much
thiuned, and specimens of 1200 pounds in weight have now become
scarce. Its llesh, caviare, and air-bladilcr are of less value than
those of the smaller kinds.
(6) The Sterlet (Acipeiiser nilheniis) is one of the smaller species,
which likewise inhabits both the Black and Caspian Sean, and
ascends rivers to a greater distance from the sea than any of the
other sturgeons; thus, for instance, it is not uncommon in the
Danube at Vienna, but specimens have been caught as high np
as Ratisbon and Ulm. It is more abundant in the rivers of Russia,
where it is held in high esteem on account of its excellent flesh,
cotitributing also to the best kinds of caviare and isinglass. ^ As
The Sterlet.
early as last century 'attempts were
made to introduce this valuable fish
into Prussia and Sweden, but without
success. The sterlet is distinguished from the other European
species by its long and narrow snout and fringed barbels. It
rarely exceeds a length of three feet.
Sturgeons with the snout prolonged in an extraordinary manner,
so as to form a long spade-like or conical process [SpfUularia,
Pohjodon, Psephuriis), occur in the Mississippi and the great rivers
of China and Central Asia. None of them have been made objects
of trade, but special interest is attached to them from a geographical
as well as palaeontological point of view, the two genera last named
being represented as far back as the Lias by an allied fossil genus,
Chpndrosleus, and all afl'ording a striking proof of the close affinity
of the North- American and North-Asiatic faunasof the recent period
STURM, Jacques Chaeles Francois (1803-1855),
the discoverer of the algebraic theorem which bears hi.«
name, was born in Geneva in 1803. Originally tutor to
the son of JIadame de Stael, he subsequently resolved, in
conjunction with his school-fellow Colladon, to try his
fortune in the French metropolis. Sturm soon made
the acquaintance of the foremost mathematicians in
the capital, and obtained employment on the Bulletin
Universel. On the discovery of his important theorem
regarding the determination of the number of real roots of
a numerical equation which are included between given
limits, on 23d May 1829, he rapidly rose to fortune and
public honours. He was chosen a member of the French
Academy in 1836, became "repetiteur" in I838, and in
1840 professor in the Polytechnic School, and finally
succeeded Poisson in the chair of mechanics in the Faculty
of Science at Paris; He presented numerous memoirs to
the Academy, of which his admirers have said, with some
pardonable exaggeration, that an impartial posterity will
place them by the side of the finest memoirs of Lagrange.
Sturm died at Paris on the 18th December 1855
STURT, Chaules (d. 1869), a distinguished South-
Australian explorer, was born in England, and at an early
age entered the army, in which he reached the rank of
captain. Having landed in Australia with his regiment
(the 39th), he became interested in the geographical pro-
blems which at that time were exciting general attentioiL
A first expedition (1828) led to the discovery of "the
Darling river;, and a second, from which the explorer
returned almost blind, made known the existence of Lake
Alexandrina. For some time Captain Sturt was surveyor-
general of South Australia, and he afterwards filled the
post of colonial secretary. The first session of the South-
Australian legislature (1851) voted him a pension of
£600. From his third journey (1844-5), in which teri-ibJs
hardships had to be endured, he returned quite blind, and
he never altogether recovered his sight. He died af
Cheltenham, England, June 16, 1869.
STUTTGART, the capital of Wiirtemberg, L'es in the
small valley of the Nesenbach, just above its confluence
with the Neckar, near the centre of the kingdom aad
S T Y — R T Y
C>13
about 115 miles west-by-north of Munich. It is charm-
ingly situated among vine-clad and wooded hills, and
stands at a height of nearly 900 feet above the sea. The
town is intersected from
south-west to north-east
by the long and handsome
Konigs-Strasse, dividing it
into an upper and lower
half. In all its rpain feat-
ures it is essentially a
modern town, and few of
its principal buildings are
older than tha present cen-
tury. Many of its modern
edifices are, however, . of
considerable architectural
importance, and the recent
revival of. the Renaissance
jityle is perhaps nowhere
better illustrated than at
Stuttgart. The lower or
south-eastern half contains
both the small group of
streets belonging to old
Stuttgart and also the most Environs of Stuttgart,
important part of the new town. A large proportion of
the most prominent buildings are clustered round the
spacious Schloss-Platz, on or near which are the following
edifices: — the new palace, an imposing structure of the
18th century, finished in 1806 ; the old palace, a building
of the 16th century, with a picturesque arcaded court;
the Ronigsbau, a huge modern building, with a fine col-
onnade, containing ball and concert rooms, shops, <tc. ;
r
-\'.
1. Palace.
2. om Palace.
3. Prlnzcssen Palais.
4. Collegiate Church.
Plan of Stuttgart.
B. Town-house.
6. Theatre.
7. Crown • Prince's
Puliice.
8. nospltal Church.
9. Orphanage.
10. Museum of Art.
the so-called Akaaemie, formerly (1775-94) the seat of
the Carls-Schulo, where Schiller received part of his edu-
cation, and now occupied by the king's i)rivate library
and by guardrooms; the new courts of .justicft; the
palaces of the crown prince and of Prince William ; the
Stiftskircho, or collegiate cliurcli, a fine specimen of 15th-
century Gothic ; the extensive royal stables ; the now post-
ofRco ; the theatre ; and the central railway station, one of
the handsomest structures of the kind in Germany. In the
centre of the Schloss-l'latz is the lofty jubil.n column
erected in memory of King William I. ; in the court-yard
of the old palace is a bronze equestrian statue of Count
Eberhard with the Beard ;■ and adjacent is a tine statue,
designed by Thorwaldsen, of Schiller, who was a native of
Wiirtemberg. Among the other principal buildings are
the polytechnic and architectural schools, the Late'Gothio
Leonhardskirche and Spitalkirche, the fine modern Gothic
church of St John, the new Roman Catholic church, the
neat little English church, the synagogue, and several
handsome villas and mansions, chiefly in the resuscitated
Renaissance style.
The art collections of Stuttgart are numerous and
valuable. The museum of art comprises a picture gallery,
an almost unique collection of casts of Thorwaldsen's
works, and a cabinet of engravings. The royal library
contains about 350,000 printed volumes, including what ii
said to be the largest collection of Bibles in the world, and
also 4000 MSS., many of great rarity. To these may be
added the industrial museum, the cabinet of coins, the
museum of natural history, the fine collection of majolica
in the new palace, and the museum of antiquities. The
city also contains numerous excellent educational establish-
ments, though the state university is not here but at
Tubingen, and its conservatorium of music has long been
renowned. Stuttgart is the centre of the publishing trade
of South Germany, and has a busy industry in everything
connected with the production of books. In various other
industrial departments it also takes a high plaj^e, its
manufactures including machinery, textile fabrics, pianos
and other musical instruments, artists' colours, chemicals,
sugar," and chocolate. Its trade is considerable. The
population of Stuttgart in 1885 was 125,510, showing an
increase of 7 per cent, since 1880. Four-fifths of these are
Protestants. The town proper contains about 110,000 in-
habitants, while the above total is made up by adding the
populations of the suburban villages of Berg, Gablenberg,
and Heslach. Stuttgart is the headquarters of tlio 13th
corps of the German army, and contains a comparatively
large garrison, for which accommodation is provided in three
extensive. barracks within the town and on the outskirts.
To the north-east of the new palace lies- the beautiful
palace park, embellished with statuary and artificial sheets
of water, and extending nearly all the way to Cannstatt, a
distance of over two miles. Cannstatt, a town with (1880)
16,205 inhabitants, is not officially incorporated with Stutt-
gart, but may be looked on as practically forming part of
it. Its beautiful situation on the Neckar, its tepiu saline
and chalyjjeate springs, and its educational advantages
attract numerous visitors. ' In the environs of Stuttgart
and Cannstatt lie Rosenstein, the Solitude, Hohenheim,
the Wilhelma, and other royal chateaus.
Stuttgnrt seems to liavo originated in a stiiJ (" Shiten Carton ")
of the early connts of Wurtembeig, and the first mention of •»
occurs in a document of 1229. Its importance is of com]iarativcly
modern giowtli, and in early Wiirtemberg history wo find- it ovfr-
shadowed by Cunnstatt, the central situation of wliioli, on tho
Neckar, seemed to mark it out as tho natural capitnl of the
country. After tho destruction of tho castle of Wuitcinhorg
Count Eberhard, however, transferred Ins residence to Stuttgart
(1320), and in 1482 it became tho recognized capital of all tho
Wiirtemberg territories. Even as capital its growth was slow, and
it enjoys little prominence in history. At tlie beginning of the
present century it did not contain 20,000 inhabitants, and its i-eni
advance begins with tho reign of King William I. (181G-18G-I),
who Hxorted himself in every way to improve and beautify bin
capital. In 1819 Stuttgnrt was the place of meeting of the so-called
"linmp Parliament" (Rnm]>fpar1ament)i Among its emiiiiiit
natives aro Hegel (b. 1770), tho philosopher, ond llaufl(b. 1802),
tho poet and story-teller.
STYRAX. See Stora.x.
STY7{IA (Germ. Steiermark or S/eyermark), a ducliy
and crovvniand in tho Cis-Leithnn part of the Aiisf
empire, is bound«;d on tho north by Upper and Ix)v
614
S T Y - S T Y
Austria, on the E. by Hungary, on the S. by Croatia and
Carniola, and on the ^V. by Carinthia and Salzburg. Its
area is 8630 square miles. Almost the entire district is
raoimtainous, being occupied by various chains and rami-
fications of the eastern Alps ; and, though Northern (or
Upper) and Southern (or Lower) Styria are distinguished,
the latter is low only in a relative sense. The North
Limestone Alps touch Styria to the north of the Enns,
beginning with the huge Dachstein (9830 feet), which
rises on the north-west border of the duchy. To the south
of the Enns the central chain of the Alps traverses Styria
from south-west to north-east in two huge ranges,
separated by the valleys of the Jlur and the JIurz, and con-
veniently grouiied under the name of Styrian Alps. The
more northerly of these two branches, forming a prolonga-
tion of the Tauern ridge, is the loftier, and culminates in
the Hochgolling (9392 feet), the highest summit in Styria.
The lower branch to .the south is broken by the valley of
the Mur, which turns abruptly to the right at its con-
fluence with the MUrz, and still farther to the north-east
is crossed by the Semmering Pass. To the south of the
Drave the duchy is traversed by the Karawankeu
Mountains (highest peak, the Stou, 734G feet), forming a
continuation of the Caruic Alps. The mountains decrease
in height fro'm west to east, and the south-east part of
Styria may be described as hilly rather than mountainous.
There is nowhere level ground enough to form a plain in
the proper acceptation of the term, but some of the valleys
contain a good deal of fertile land. The rivers of Stytia all
drain into the Danube ; the Save and the Traun are the
most important of those not already mentioned. There are
numerous small mountain lakes. The climate, of course,
varies with the configuration of the surface, and there is
a mean annual difference of about 7° Fahr. between the
temperature of the north-Fe?t and the south-east.
In spite of the irregular nature of the surface, but little of the
soil cau be called uuiiroductive. About 21 '40 percent, is under
tillage, 12'75 in meadow, and 1675 in pasture, ivliile nearly a
half of the total area is covered with fiuc forests. The chief crops
are oats, mai2e, rye, wlieat, buckwheat, potatoes, and Bai Wiae
is produced iu the valleys of Lower Sty'i, where large f|uaiitities
of chestuuts are also grown. In the n.ountaiiis daiiy-fiirmiug is
BUceessfuUy carried on in the Aljiiuc fashion, and good horees are
reared iu the valley of the Enns. Slicep are comparatively few, but
there are large numbers of goats and swine, while poultry-rearing
and bee-keeping are very general in the Slavonic districts to the
south. Some faiily successful attempts have also beeu made to
breed sill;woi-ms. Trout and other fish are abundant in the rivers
and mountaiu lakes and chamois are hunted among the higher Alps.
The great wealth of Styria however, lies underground. Its ex-
tensive and important iron mines yield nearly one-third of the iron
ore raised in the Austrian empire, and its other mineral resources
include brown coal, pit-coal, copper, zinc, lead, graphite, a little
gold and silver, nickel, aluni, cobalt, salt, dyer's earth, potter's clay,
marble, and good mill and Oiiilding stones. The best known of
its numerous mineral springs are the therinal springs of TiilTer, the
alkaline springs of Rohitsch, and the brine s|friugs of Aussce.
The chief industry of Styria is determined by its mineral rich-
ness, and iron-foundries, machine-shops, and manufactures of
various kinds of irou and steel goods are very numerous. A
special branch is the nitiking of scythes and sickles, which are sent
out of the country iu large qu.intities. Among its other industrial
products are glass, pa|ier, cement, oil and perfumery, shoes, cotton
goods, chemicals, and gunpowder. Linen-weaving is prosecuted
as a household industry. An active tr.-.deis carried on in the
above-named manufactures, and in brown coal, cattle, wine, and
fruit. In addition to three navigable rivers (Drave, Save, Miir),
the traffic of the duchy is facilitated by 600 miles of railway.
The population of Styria in ISSO was 1,213,597, equivalent to
140 per square mile, a proportion wbUi, while not high in itself,
is considerably above the rate in the other mountainous regions of
the empire. Nearly the whole of these profess the lloman Catholic
faith, the Protestants numbering only 8000 and the Jews about
1000. Two-thirds of the inhabitants are Germans ; the remainder,
chiefly found iu the south parts of the duchy, in the valleys of
the Drave and Save, are Slavs (Slovenes)- About 65 per cent, are
supported by agricultural pursuits, including forestrj-. The educa-
tion of the crownland centres in the university of Gratz, which is
attended by about 1200 students. The capital and scat of the ad-
miuidtratiou is Gratz (100, 000 inhabitants), wiiieli is also the head-
quarters of the third corps of the Austrian army; the only other
town of any size is JIarhurg (17,€00). The provincial estates con-
sist of 63 members, including the two Koman Catholic bishops, thf
rector of the university, 12 representatives ol the large landowners,
23 of the peasants, 19 of the towns, and 6 of tlic chambers of com-
merce. Styria sends 23 members to the impel ial parliament.
In the Roman period Styria, which even {bus early was famed
for its irou and steel, was inhabittd by the Celtic Taurisci, and
divided geographically between Koricum and Pannouia. Subse-
quently it was successively occupied or traversed by Visigoths,
Huns, Ostrogoths, Langobardi, Franks, and Avars. 'Towards the
end of the Uth century the last-named began to give way to th,o '
Slavs (Wends), who ultimately made themselves masters of the
entire district. Styria was included iu the conquests of Charlemagne,
and was henceforth comprised in the German marks erected against
the Avar and the Slav. At first the identity of Styria is lost in
the great duchy of Carinthia, corresponding more or less closely
to the Upper Carinthian mark. This duchy, however, afterwards
fell to pieces, and a distinct mark of Styria was recognized, taking
its name from the margrave Ottocar of Steier (1056). A century
or so later it was created a duchy. In 1192 the duchy of Styria
came by inheritance to the house of Austria, and from that time it
shared the fortunes of Upper and Lower Austria, passing like them
to the Hapsburgs in 12S2. The Protestant Reformation met an
early and general welcome in Styria, but the dukes took the most
stringent measures to stamp it out, offering their subjects recanta-
tion or expatriation as .the only alternatives. At least 30,000
Protestants preferred e.^cile, and it was not till about 100 years ago
that religious liberty was recognized. The modern lustory of
Styria has been similar to that of the other Austrian crownlands,
and calls for no special remark.
STYX, a river whicli the Gree.ks fabled to ffcw in the
world of the dead. Homer speaks of it as a river of
Hades by which the gods swore their most solemn oaths,
and he couples it with the Cocytus and the PjTiphlege-
thon, the river of wailing and the river of burning fire.
Hesiod says that Styx was a daughter of Ocean, and that,
when Zeus summoned the gods to Olympus to help him
to fight the TitauE, Styx was the first to come and her
children with her ; hence as a reward Zeus ordained that
the most solemn oath of the gods should be by her and
that hen children (Emulation, Victory, Power, and Force)
should always live with him. In another passage he says
that Styx (whom, somewhat contradictorilj', he describes as
abhorred by the immortal gods) dwells far off from the gods
in a beautiful house overarched with rocks and supported
by tall silver pillars, which may be meant as a description
of a stalactitic cave. Again Hesiod tells us that if any god,
after pouring a libation of the water of Styx, forswore him-
self, he had to lie in a trance for a year without speakini;
or breathing, and that for nine years afterwards he was ex-
cluded from the society of the gods. In historical times
the Styx was identified with a lofty waterfall near Nonacris
in Arcadia. Pausanias describes the cliff over which the
water falls as the highest he had ever seen, and indeed the
fall is the highest in Greece. The scenery is wild and deso-
late. The water descends in two slender cascades, which,
after winding among the rocks, unite and fall into the river
Akrata (the ancient Crathis). - The ancients regarded the
water as poisonous, and thought that it possessed the power
of breaking or dissolving vessels of every material, with the
exception of the hoof of a horse or ass, or (according to
others) of horn. The Arcadians used to swear by it on im-
portant occasions. The people in the neighbourhood still
hold that the v;ater is unwholesome, and that no vessel will
hold it. They call it the Black Water or the Terrible Water.
Considering the promiueuce given by the ancienta to an oath
by the water of Styx, and comparing the effect supposed to follow
from breaking that oath with the destructive power supposed to be
possessed by the water, we are tempted to conjecture that drinking
the water was originally a necessary part of the oath, — that in fact
in the stories of the Styx we have traditions of an ancient poison
ordeal such as is commonly employed amongst barbarous peoples
as a means of eliciting the truth (see- Ordeal).
Sec Leake, Trave!i in (fie Morea, iii. p. 15G sr;,; M. G. Clark, Pehponmtvs,
p. 302 ty.\ Cuitiii8, Peloponnesos, i. p. 195 tg.; VVorilswoi Ih, Greece, p. 384,
S U A — S U A
615
STJAEIN, or Sttwakiu, more correctly Sawakin, the
chief port of the Soudan o\i the Tied Sea and the starting-
place of caravans for Xassala and "Cerbcr, occupies a small
island, placed in a deep bay in 19° 5' K. lilt. Tlie custom-
house and Egyptian Government offices present a good
frontage to the sea, and the principal houses are stately
■white structures, three stories high, not unlike those of
Jiddah. With these, however, arc intermingled shapelejs
huts, each with its courtyard \valled in with mats. There
are also the usual Greek drinking-shops, with their dirty
loungers in coats and fez-caps, and a short street of coffee-
houses and shops. The mosques are not reraarkal !c.
Passing through the bazaar and turning to the right past
the tomb of Sheikh 'All, one comes to an open space at
the head of the recent cauScwa)' which unites the island
io the mainland town of AI-Kaff (Al-Keif). The main
street of Al-Kaff is (or was before the recent war) the
busy centre of life and movement, while the side streets are
occupied by smiths, forging lance-heads and knives ; leather
workers, who drive a brisk trade in the amulets — passages
of the Koran sewn up in leather cases — which the natives
wear on their arms or round their necks ; and hairdressers,
.greasing and powdering with the dust of a red wood the
bushy locks of the Hadandoa dandies. , Beyond the town
is a suburb of straw huts with their simple furniture of a
bedstead, a few dishes, and a rubbing stone for the millet
which with milk forms the chief food of the natives. Here
too arc the booths of the silversmith;?, who make bracelets,
anklets, car and nose rings, for the women. The Hadendoa,
a tall stalwart race, picturesquely draped in huge wrappers,
to which the women add a petticoat, are most numerous
on the mainland. The population of the island is mixed,
with a large infusion of Arab blood. The export trade of
Suakin before the revolt of the Soudan yielded a customs
revenue of £60,000 a year, the chief articles besides the
ivory, which was a Government monopoly, being gum,
cotton, sesame, senna, and -hides. The total yearly trade
was estimated at a million sterling.
The environs of Suakiu, though not so absolutely desert as the
opposite Arabi.in coast, are less wooded than some points (,e./j..
Sheikh Barghat) which lie as conveniently for the inland trade.
The island is without water and the harbour indifferent ; yet the
settlement is ancient. Here as at Massowah traders were presum-
ably attracted by the advantages of an island site which protected
them from the noraads. The country inland from all this coast
belonged in the Jliddle Ages to the Boja (Eejah), a rude pastoral
race who appear to be identical with the Blemmyos of classical
writers and of whom Hadendoa, Bisharin, and Abdbdah are the
modern representatives. The trading places seem to have been
always in tlie hands of foreigners since Ptolemais Tlieron was
established by Ptolemy Philadelphus for intercourse with the ele-
phant hunters. After Islam many Arabs settled on the coast and
mixed with the heathen Boja, whose rule of kinship and succession
in the female line helped to give the cliildren of mixed marriages a
leading position (llakn'zi, Khil.at, i. 191 sq., translated in Burck-
hardt's Travels in Nitbia, App. iii.). Thus in 1330 Ibn B.atuta
found a son of the emir of Mecca reigning in Simkin over the Boja,
who were his mother's kin. Makn'zi say.s that the chief inhabitants
were nominal Moslems and were called Kadirib. The emir of the
Haddrib was still sovereign of the mainland at the time of Burck-
hardt's visit (1814), though the island had an aga appointed by
the Turkish pasha of Jiddah. The place was settled by the Turk:;
under Sclim the Great, but Turkish (or Egyptian) control over the
mainland was not effective till the Egyptian contiuest of tlie Soudan.
Till tho suppression of the slave trade, Suakin was an important
slave port ; of late years slaves have been secretly run across tho
Red Sea from less frequented points on the coast. But legitimate
commerce was rapidly growing before tho revolt of the Soudan, and
the port was visited by English, Egyptian, and Italian steamers.
SUARDI, BAETOLO^LMEo, usually known as Biiaman-
TiNo from his master Bramante, was a distinguished painter
and architect of the Milanese school. He was specially
famed for his knowledge of perspective, and Lomazzo
(Trait, d. Pitt., iii. 1) praises him highly for the deceptive
realism of his painting. Tho dates of his birth and death
are unknown, but he was probably quite young when.
about 1495, he visited Rome in company wth his master
Bramante ; there he is said to have been emiiloyed as a
painter by the pope, and he evidently spent much time in
studying the remains of classical buildings in Rome. A
number of measured drawings by his hand are still pre-
served in the Brera library at Milan. Vasari mentions
that he had seen a book of drawings by Bramantino of the
early Lombardic churches of Northern Ital}', such as S.
Ambrogio at Milan and S. Pietro in Ciel d'Oro at Pavia, —
a remarkable thing at a time when these noble structures
were usually despised as being barbarous in style. The
greater part of Bramantino's frescos are now lost, partly
because he was speciaUy employed to paint the externa!
facades of houses and public buildings, such as the mint
at Milan. One, however, stiU exists over the doorway of
S. Sepolcro, a highly foreshortened figure of Christ, with
the Madonna and Saints. He also painted some angels
which still exist in the church of S. Eustorgio, also in
Jlilan. In 1513 he received eighty gold crowns for a
Pieti and Saints painted in the sacristy for the Cistercian
monks of, Chiaravalle, near Slilan. In 1525 lie was ap-
pointed architect and painter to Francesco II. of Jlilan,
and he was employed as military engineer to reconstruct
the walls of the city, which was then threatened by the
army of Charles V. The church of S. Satiro in Jililan is
usually attributed to Bramantino, but it ai)pcars to have
been mainly designed by Bramante. Bramantino died
between 1530 and 1536. He left an able pupil called
AgostinO di Milano, who worked chiefly as an architect.
SUAREZ, Fkancisco (1548-1617), Spanish theologian
and philosopher, was born at Granada on the 5th of
January 1548. After completing liis studies at the
university of Salamanca, he entered the Society of Jesus
in 1564. The accounts of his early years represent him
as backward in his development, and it was not without
difficulty that he obtained admission to the order. Under
the direction of Father Rodriguez, however, he threw off
his mental clough and discovered powers of mind of the
highest order. He is said to have habitually aevoted
seventeen hours a day to study, and wonders are reported
of his prodigious memory. He was soon appointed to
teach philosophy at Segovia, and he afterwards taught
.theology at ValladoLid, at Alcala, nt Salamanca, and at
Rome successively. After taking his doctorate at Evora,
he was named by Philip II. principal professor of theology
in the university of Coiinbra. Suaroz may be eonsidered
almost the last eminent representative of scholasticism,
and his works in twenty-three folio volumes treat, after
the scholastic method and with scholastic comprehensive-
ness, all the main subjects of niediievnl philosophy and
theology. In philosophical doctrine he adhered to a
moderate Thomism.. On the question of universals he
endeavoured to, steer a middle course between tho panthc-
istically inclined realism of Duns Scotus and the extreme
nominalism of William of Occam. The only veritable
and real unity in the world of existences is the individual ;
to assert that the universal exists separately cr parte rci
would be to reduce individuals to mere accidents of one
indivisible form. Suarez maintains that, though the
humanity of Socrates does not differ from that of Plato,
yet they do not constitute renliter ono and the same
humanity; there are as many "formal unities" (in this
case, humanities) as there arc individuals, and these
individuals do not constitute a factual, but only an essen-
tial or ideal unity ("ita ut plura individua, qua: dicuntiir
esse ejusdem naturas, non sint unum quid vera cntitalo
qum sit in rebus, scd'solum fundamentalitcr vel purintcl-
lectum "). The formal unity, however, is not an arbitrary
creation of the mind, but exists " in natura rci ante onmem
operationcm intellectus." In theology, Suarez attached
GIG
8 U B — S U C
Lim.self to the rloctrino of Molina, tlie celebrated Jesuit
professor of Evora. Molina tried to reconcile the doctrine
of predestination with the freedom of the human will by
saying that the predestination is consequent iiijon God's
foreknowledge of the free determination of man's will,
which is therefore in no way affected by the fact of such
[ircdestination. God gives to all men grace sufficient for
their salvation, but some co-operate freely with this grace,
while others resist it. Suarez endeavoured to reconcile
tiiis view with the more orthodox doctrines of the efficacy
of grace arnd special election, maintaining that, though all
share in an absolutely sufficient grace, there is granted to
the elect a grace which is so adapted to their peculiar dis-
positions and circumstances that they infallibly, though at
the same time quite freely, yield themselves to its influ-
ence. This mediatizing system was known by the name
of "congruism." Suarez is probably more important,
however, as a philosophical jurist than as a theologian or
metaphysician. In his extensive work Tradatus de Legibus
af Deo Legislatove (reprinted, Loudon, 1679) he is to some
extent the precursor of Grotius and Pufendorf. Though
Lis method is throughout scholastic, he covers the same
ground, and Grotius speaks of him in terms of high
respedt. The fundamental position of the work is that
all legislative as well as all paternal (lower is derived from
God, and that the authority of every law resolves itself
into His. Suarez conclusively refutes the patriarchal
theory of government and the divine right of kings
founded upon it, — doctrines popular at that time in Eng-
land and to some extent on the Continent. Adam, he
remarks, possessed ouly a domestic or patriarchal, not a
political authority. Power by its very nature belongs to
no one man but to a multitude of men ; and the reason is
obvious, since all men are born equal. It has been
pointed out tiiat this accords well with the Jesuit policy
of depreciating the royal while exalting the papal preroga-
tive. But Suarez is much more moderate on this point
than a writer like Mariana, approximating to the modern
view of the rights of ruler and ruled. In 1613, at the
instigation of Pope. Paul V., Suarez wrote a treatise dedi-
cated to the Christian i)rinces of Europe, entitled Defensio
Catholicx Fidei contra A nc/Hcanie Seclx Errores. This was
directed against the oath« of allegiance which James I.
exacted from his subjects. James caused it to be burned
by the common hangman, and forbade its perusal under
the severest penalties, complaining bitterly at the same
time to Philip III. that he should harbour in his dominions
a declared enemy of the throne and majesty of kings. In
France extracts from the treatise were condemned to the
flames by the parlement of Paris on similar grounds.
Suarez died after a few days' illness on 25th September
1617 at Lisbon, whither he had gone to be present at an
ecclesiastical conference.
Tlio collected works of Suarez have been printed at Mainz and
Lyolis (1630) and at Venice (1740), also more recently at Besnnfon
(1855-62) and in the collection of the Abbe Migne. His lUc has
been written by Deschanips [Vita Fr. Suarcsii, Perpignan, 1671).
The chief modern authorities are K. Werner's Franz Suaree u. die
Scholastik dcr leizlcn Jahrhundcrtc (Ratisbon, 1861) and the third
volume of Stockl's Gclchichlc dcr Philosophic dcs Mittdallcrs.
SUBIACO, a town of Italy, in the province of Rome,
25 miles east of Tivoli and 42 from the capital, is pictur-
esqitely situated on the right bank of the Teverone. It
has iron-works and paper-mills, and in 1881 the population
of the town was 6503 (commune, 7017), having decreased
from 7452 in 1868.
Subiaco, the Sublaqucum of the Romans, was so ealTeil from its
position under the aitificial lakes constructed in connexion witli
one of the rillas of the em »j-or Nero. In all jirobability there was
no town in ancient times, asd the modern town of Subiaco appeai-s
to have grown up subsequent to the establishment of the Bene-
dictine mouastcries \n this ueighbouvliood. Of these the most
remarknlilo are Santa Scolastica, ' which was built by the abhjt
Honoratus, anil by the 11th century ranked as a regular prin. i-
pality; and Sacro Spcio, which has gathered its cuiious cluster of
laiildings round tlie cave in which St lienedict himself found an
asylum (see vol. ill. p. 557). The points of most interest in tbo
town, which still boats on the whole a clearly media;val iiuprcss, nrc
associated with Pope Pins ^ I. It was Pius who icstotcd and ex-
tended the great castle, erected in 1068 by Abbot John V., and lonf»
used as a summer residence by the popes ; and it was lie who built
the costly church of Sant' Andrea. His visit to the town in 1789
is commemorated by a triumphal arch. The first book printed in
Italy was the Subiaco Lnclmitius ot 1465.
SUBLEYRAS, Pieeke (1699-1749), French painter,'
who passed nearly his whole life at Rome, was born at
Uzfes (Card) iu 1(599. He left France for Italy in 1728,
having carried off the great prize. He there painted for
the canons of Asti Christ's Visit to the House of Simon
the Pharisee (Louvre, engraved by Subleyras himself), a
large work, which made his rejmtation and procured his
admission into the Academy of .St Luke. Cardinal Valenti
Gonzaga next -obtained for hiin the order for Saint Basil
and the Emperor Valens (small study in Louvre), which
was executed in mosaic for St Peter's. Benedict XIV
and ail the princes of Rome sat to him, and the pope him-
self commanded two great paintings — the JIarriage of St
Catherine and the Ecstasy of St Camilla — which he placed
in his private apartments. For various religious corpora-
tions at Milan, Perugia, and other places, and for various
great j)ersons many important altar-pieces were also exe-
cuted ; but Subleyras shows greater individuality in his
curious -genre pictures, which he produced in considerable
number (Louvre). It is in his illustrations of La Fontaine
and Boccaccio that his true relation to the modern era
comes out ; and his drawings from nature are often admir-
able for their grave sobriety of treatment (see one of a
man draped in a heavy cloak in the British JIuseum).
Exhausted by overwork, Subleyras tried a change to
Naples, but returned to Rome at the end of a few months
to die (28th May 1749). His wife, the celebrated minia-
ture painter, Maria Felice Tibaldi, was sister to the wife
of Tr^mollifere.
SUCCESSION DUTY is a sum paid to the state by a
person benefited by the succession to certain kinds of pro-
perty. Legacies were first taxed in 1780. It was not
until 1853 that a tax was levied upon succession to real
property, or succession under any instrument other than
a will by which property is enjoyed in succession to a
deceased person. The duty is paid on succession to both
real and persona! property, in fact, in almost all cases
which do not fall within the Legacy Duty Acts. The
Succession Duty Act, 1853 (16 and 17 Vict. c. 51), defines
succession as "every past or future disposition of property
by reason whereof any person has or shall become benefi-
cially entitled to any property, or the income thereof, upon
the death of any person dying after the time appointed
for the commencement of this Act, either immediately
or after any interval, either certainly or contingently, and
either originally or by way of substitutive limitation, and
every devolution by law of any beneficial interest in pro-
perty, or the income thereof, upon the death of any person
dying after the time appointed for the commencement o'
this Act to any other person in possession or expectancy."
There are certain exemptions, the most important being
successions of a husband or wife, successions where the
whole value is under £100, individual successions under
the value of £20, and legacies and shares of personal
estate chargeable under the Legacy Duty Acts. The
duties levied vary from 1 to 10 per cent, according to tho
degree of consanguinity between the predecessor and the
successor Leasehold property and personalty directed to
be converted into real estate are liable to succession and
_i For tbe Sai-tii Soolastica library, see Libraries, vol. xiv. g. bidJ
s u c — s u c
617
flot to lefiacy duty. Special provision is made for the
collection of the duty in the case of joint tenants, in the
case where the sufccessor is also the predecessor, and in
other dispositions of a special nature. The duty is a first
charge on property ; but, if the property be parted with be-
fore the succession duty be paid, the liability of the suc-
cessor appears to be transferred to the alienee. A bona fide
purchaser is protected by a receipt for duty, notwithstand-
ing any suppression or mis-statement in the account on
the footing of which the duty was assessed, or any insuffi-
ciency of such assessment. It is usual in requisitions on
title before conveyance to demand for the protection of
the purchaser the production of receipts for succession
duty. Recent legislation has made some amendmenta in
the law. By 43 Vict. c. 14, s. 11, succession duty may be
commuted in certain cases by the Commissioners of Inland
Revenue. 44 Vict. c. 12, s. 36, relieves from payment of
succession duty on personal estate "not exceeding £300 by
payment of a sum of thirty shillings, on the affidavit or in-
ventory. Section 41 exempts from payment of the 1 per
cent, duty in respect of property for which stamp duty has
been paid on the affidavit or inventory. Up to 1885
certain property vested in bodies corporate and unincor-
porate escaped liability to succession duty. 48 and 49
Vict. c. 51, s. 11, now imposes on such bodies (with con-
siderable exceptions) a duty at the rate of 5 per cent, on the
annual value, inceme, or profits of the succession. All
the Acts which have been cited extend to the United
Kingdom.
In the United States succession duty is regulated by tit xixv.
ch. 10 of the Revised Statutes. The duty varies from 1 to 6 per
cent., according to the degree of consanguinity.
SUCHET, Loms Gabriel, Due D'ALBtrrEEA (1770-
1826), marshal of France, one of the most brilliant of
Napoleon's generals, was the son of a silk manufacturer at
Lyons, where he was born on 2d March 1770. He origin-
ally intended to follow his father's business ; but the Revolu-
tion of 1789 altered the bent of his ambition, and, having in
1792 served as volunteer in the cavalry of the national guard
at Lyons, he manifested military abilities which secured his
rapid promotion. As ch^f de bataillon he was present at
the siege of Toulon in 1793,- where he took General O'Hara
prisoner. During the Italian campaign of 1796 he dis-
tinguished himself in most of the important contests and
was severely wounded at Cerea on 11th October. In
October 1797 he was appointed to the command of a demi-
brigade, and in the following year his services in Switzer-
land were recognized by his promotion to the raflk of general
of brigade. He then went to Eg)rpt, but soon afterwards
was recalled, and in August made chief of the staff to Brune,
to whom ho rendered invaluable assistance in restoring the
efficiency and discipline of the army in Italy. In July 1799
he was made general of division to Joubert in Italy, and,
after being continued in the same office by his successors,
was in 1800 named by Massdna his second in command.
Soon afterwards he had an opportunity of manifesting those
qualities which entitle him to rank among the most daring
and clever tacticians of his time ; his dexterous resistance
to the superior forces of the Austrians with the left of
Massina, when the right and centre were shut up in Genoa,
not only prevented the invasion of France from this direc-
tion but powerfully contributed to the success of Napoleon's
strategy of crossing the Alps, which culminated in the
battle of Marengo on 14th June. He took a prominent
part in all the subsequent events of the Italian campaign
till the peace of Lun6ville, 9th February 1801. In the
campaigns of 1805 and 1806 he greatly increased his re-
putation, more Especially at Austerlitz, Saalfeld, Jena,
Pultusk, and Ostrolenka. He obtained the title of count
on 19th March 1808, and, after taking part in the siege
of Saragossa, was named generalissimo of tHe army of
ilragon and governor of the province, which, by wise ad-
ministration no less than by his brilliant valour, he in two
years brought into complete submission. He annihilate'
the army of Blake at Maria on 14th June 1809, and on 22-
April 1810 inflicted a severe defeat on O'Donnell. After
being made marshal of France, 8th July 1811, he in 181?
achieved the conquest of Valencia, for which he was re-
warded with the title of Due d'Albufera. By Louis XVUL
he was on 4th June made a peer of France, but, having
assisted Napoleon during the "hundred days," he was
deprived of his peerage on 24th July 1815. He died near
Marseilles on 3d January 1826. Suchet was the author of
Mimoires sur ses Campagnes en Espag7ie, 2 vols., 1829-34.
See C.-H. Barault-EouUon, ic Mar^cJial SUchd, Paris, 1854 ;
T. Choumara, C<m$idiralions milUaires sur les mimoires du Uarlchal
Suchet, Paris, 1840.
SU-CHOW. There are in China three cities of this
name which deserve mention. (1) Su-chow, formerly one
of the largest cities in the world, and still in 1880 credited
with a population of 500,000, in the province of Kiang-su,
on the great Imperial Canal, 55 miles west^north-west of
Shanghai. The site is practically a cluster of islands to
the east of Lake Tai-hu, and streams and canals give com-
munication with" most parts of the province. The walls are
about 10 miles in circumference and- there are four large
suburbs. Su-chow is a great commercial and manufactur-
ing centre, the silk manufacture being represented by a
greater variety of goods than are produced anywhere else
in the empire ; and the publication of cheap editions of
the Chinese classics is carried to great perfection. There
is a Chinese proverb to the effect that to be perfectly
happy a man ought to be born in Su-chow, live in Canton,
and die in Lian-chow. The great nine-storied pagoda of
the northern temple is one of the finest in the country. In
1860 Su-chow was captured by the Taipings, and, when in
1865 it was recovered by the valour and enterprise of
General Gordon, the city, which had formerly been famous
for its large and handsome buildings, was almost reduced
to, a heap of ruins. Of the original splendour of the placo
some idea may be gathered from the beautiful native plan
on a slab of marble preserved since 1247 in the temple
of Confucius and reproduced in Yule's Marco Polo, voL L
Su-chow was founded in 484 by Ho-lu-Wang, whose grave
is covered by the artificial "Hill of the Tiger" in the
vicinity of the town. The literary and poetic designation
of Su-chow is Ku-su, from the great tower of Ku-su-tai,
built by Ho-lu-Wang. (2) Su-chow, formerly Tsiu-tsuan-
tsiun, a free city in the province of Kan-suh, in 39° 48' 3"
N. lat. (according to Sosnofskii), just within the extreme
north-west angle of the Great Wall, near the gate of jade.
It is the great centre of the rhubarb trade, and used to be
the residence, alternately with Lian-chow-fu, of the governor
of the province. Completely destroyed in the Dungan
insurrection (1865-72), it was recovered by the Chinese in
1873 and has been rebuilt. (3) Su-chow, a commercial
town situated in the province of Sze-chuen at the junction
of the Min river with the Yang-tse-kiang, in 28° 46' 50"
N. lat.
SUCKER. See Lttmp-sucker.
SUCKLING, Sir John (1609-1642), one of the most
admired poets and men of fashion at the court of Charles I.,
and an active spirit in politics as well as in fashionable
gaieties, belonged to a Norfolk family. His father was a
high official under James I. and a comptroller of the
household under Charles I.; finance seems to have been
his strong point, and he managed his own affairs so well
as to accumulate a considerable fortune, of which the poet
was left master at the age of eighteen. His earliest bio-
graphers fixed his birth in 1613, and founded on this a
XXIL — 78
618
(J C — S U D
reputation for extraordinary precocity in school learning.
Mr Alfrp'l S'l^'flins, who edited his works in 1836, cor-
rected this error, ascertaining that he was born at ^Vhittor<
in Middlesex and baptized on 10th February 1609. He
was sent to Trinity College, Cambridge. '" 16"?^, at wnal
was then the usual aqe, and thereafter travelled on the
Continent, as was also the custom for youths of iiia
birth. Eeturning to London, he did not >Iong remain
inactive at court, but sought experience as a soldier,
volunteering into the force ' raised by the marquis of
Hamilton for the support of Gustavus Adolphus in the
Palatinate. He reached Germany, in July 1631 and was
back at Whitehall in May 1032 ; but during this time he
saw a good deal of hard service, being present at the battle
of Leipsio and the sieges of Crosson, Guben, Glogou, and
Jlagdeburg. Reappearing at court, he at onse became a
prominent figure. " He had the peculiar happiness of
making everything that he did become him." He was
ready of wit, handsome of person, wealthy and generous,
a leader in all pastimes, the best bowler and the best
card-player at court. His happy skill in verse was only
one of the distinctions of a man who excelled in every-
thing ; but, as it happened, both the king and the queen
had literary tastes, and he aimed at distinction in poetry
with the ardent thoroughness which seems to have been
part of his character. He became eminent at court just
at the time when masques, after being the rage for a few
years, had reached the height of their splendour and were
beginning to pall ; and it occurred to him to apply to the
ordinary drama the improved scenery vrhich the taste for
masques had developed. We can trace in his plays both
the taste for spectacular effect and the admiration for the
wit of Shakespeare which he shared with his royal master.
Aglawa was the first of them, and is said to have been
the first play produced with elaborate stage scenery. It
was produced first at Christmas in 1637 with a tragic
ending, then reproduced at the following Easter with
ingenious changes in the fifth act which made it end
happily. With all its clever play on words and images,
and its natural felicity of diction, it is not an interesting
drama to read ; the characters have no body or vitality.
But it is full of incident, as if the dramatist were revelling
in the newly discovered power of shifting the scenes, and
making the most of his advantage in having the co-opera-
tion of Tnigo Jones. His comedy the Goblins is much
happier, and there the frequent changes of scene are used
with great skill to maintain the. liveliness of the action.
SuckKng produced another tragedy in 1639, Brennoralt;
it has more body than its predecessor, but shows no mas-
tery of passion or tragic character. He began still another
tragedy, the Sad One, but was abruptly stopped in his
.iterary career by the beginning of a tragedy in real life,
the quarrel between Charles and his subjects. Suckling
took a prominent part for a time on the Royalist side.
■\Vlien war was levied on the Scottish Covenanters in 1639
Suckling raised a troop of a hundred horse at his own
expense and accompanied them on the bloodless expedi-
tion to the Border. He was elected member for Bramber
to the Long Parliament which met in November 1640 ; but
in May of the following year he got into trouble in con-
nexion with a plot for the escape of Strafford from the
Tower and a project for calling in French aid, was charged
with high treason, and fled beyond sea. The circumstances
of his short life in exile are obscure. He continued to
attract attention, and many pamphlets about him were
circulated, one in particular describing how he eloped
with a lady to Spain and fell into the clutches of the
Inquisition. The tradition is that he committed suicide
in Paris some time before the end of 1642. Suckling's
reputation as a poet rest? not upon his plays but upon
his minor pieces. They have wio dxiil fancy and at times
exquisite felicity of diction. The happiest as a whole is
the Ballad tqjon a Wedding " Prithee, why so pale, fond
lover ? " is an occasional song in Aglaura.
A coV.ectioD of Suckling's poems was'lirst published in 1646 with
the title Fragmenia Atirea. The so-called' Selections jiublished bj
Mr A!fr"'' .''ucklins in 1S36 is really a full edition of his poems,
letters, and plays, vrhich was re-edited, with slight additions, by
Mr W. C. Ha^::tl hi 1874.
SUCRE, the capital of Bolivia, formerly known a*
Chuquisaca, but renamed is honour of General Sucre, thf
first president of thp Tepnblic Lyirc in 19* 2' 45" S. lat.
and 65° 17' W. long., ai a height of 9183 feet above the sea,
in a valley which drains southwards to the Piicomayo (see
Plate River), it enjoys an agreeable climate and has its
markets well /supplied with fruits and vegetables. The
city i"! the seat of the archbishopric oi Ija Plata and Char-
cas, founded in 1609, and contains a magnificent cathedral
and several imposing churches and convents. For a long
time the university and colleges of Chuquisaca were among
the most frequented ia South America, and they are still
of some note. The inhabitants, who are mainly of Indian
origin, are variou.^Iy stated to number 24,000 (Ondarza)
and 12,000 {Almatmcde Gotka).
The Spanish city of Chuqiiisaca was founded in 1539 on the site
of a Peruvian town, whose original name sur\'ired the Spanish
designation of CiuJad la Plata. It became in 1609 the seat of the
supreme court of justice for the South American colonies — "Keal
Audiencia de la Plata y Charc.is!' — Charcas being the name of a
native tribe often given to the Chuquisaca district, and even to the
city (Maria de las Chcucas).
SUDAN. See Soudan.
SUDBURY, an ancient borough and market town of
England, chiefly in Suffolk, but partly in Essex, is situated
on the river Stour, forming the boundary between the two
counties, and on a branch of the Great Eastern Railway,
1 9 miles south of Bury St Edmunds and 58 nortli-east of
London. It is well built and well paved and contains a
number of good houses. It is chiefly interesting from
its three parish churches of All Saints, St Peter's, and St
Gregory's. All Saints, dating from 1150 and consisting
of chancel, nave, aisles, and tower, is chiefly Perpendicu-
lar,— the chancel, however, being Decorated. It possesses
a fine oaken pulpit of 1490. The church was restored
in 1882. St Peter's is Perpendicular, with a unique coved
nave roof. St Gregory's, once collegiate, in the Perpen-
dicular style, was partly built by Simon Tybald, archbishop
of £;anterbury, wha was beheaded by Wat Tyler's mob.
He established also a coUege for secular priests, of which
a. gateway still remains. The grammar-school was founded
by William Wood in 1491. The principal modem build.
ings are the town-hall, the corn exchange, the hterary and
mechanics' institute, and St Leonard's hospital. . The town
owed its early importance to the introduction of woollen
manufactures by the Flemings at the instance of Edward
III., but this was afterwards replaced by silk crape,
jacquard satin, &c.; the manufacture has now greatly de-
clined. Cocoa-nut matting is an important manufacture,
and there are also flour-mills, malt-kilns, lime-works, and
brick and tile yards. A declining trade is carried on by
the river, which is na-s-igable up to the town. The area of
the municipal borough is 1459 acres, and includes, besides
the parishes of All Saints, St Gregory, and St Peter, Balling-
don cum Brundon in Essex and St Bartholomew. The
population in 1871 was 6908, and 6584 in 1881.
Sudbury is supposed to have been in early times the chief tovtu
in Suffolk, and to have received its name in contradistinction to
Norwich in Norfolk. ' By the Conqueror it was given to Richard
de Clare, and from the earls of that name it obtained important
privileges. It is a borough by prescription, but obtained its first
charter from Mary in ISC'l. It obtained others from Cromwell and
James II., and its governing charter is that of Charles II. From
the reign of Elizabeth it sent one member to parliament until it
was dislranchised in 1844.
S U D — S U E
619
SUDR^^. SeeBRAHM-iKisM.vol.iv.p. 203 si?., and Caste.
SUE, Joseph Marie (1804-1859), generally knov/n as
EroE.N'E Sue, French novelist, ranked by some as tlie chief
practitioner of the melodramatic style in fiction, was born
at Paris on 10th December 1804. Unlike most volumin-
ous writers of light literature. Sue was a man of fortune.
He was the son of a surgeon in Napoleon's army, and is said
to have had the empress Josephine for godmother. But
in later life he became something very diflerent from a
Bonapartist, and his residence In Savoy for the last years
of his life was due to his having been banished from Franco
after the coup detat. Until his father's death in 1828
Sue pursued the same ' profession and was present as a
surgeon both in the campaign undertaken by France in
1823 for the re-establishment of royal power in Spain and
at the battle- of Navarino (1828). His naval experiences
supplied much of the materials of his first novels, Kernoch
le Pirate, Altar-Gull, La Salamandre, La Coucaratcha, and
others, which were '• jmposed at the height of the romantic
movement of 1 850, and displayed its Byronic enthusiasm,
its fancy for outlandish subjects and names, and (in a very
full measure) its extravagance. Then he took to more
serious work, writing a naval history of France of no
merit. His next venture was the historical or quasi-
historical novel, in which style he composed Jean Cavalier
(1840), besides other stories of adventure. About this
time he was strongly affected by the socialist ideas of the
day, and his attempt to display these in fiction produced
(with others) his most famous and perhaps best works, —
Les Mystires de Paris (1842) and Le Juif Errant (1844-45).
These were among the most popular specimens of the
roman-fetdlleton, then at the height of its popularity.
The political and philosophical or pseudo-philosophical
" purpose " continuing to gain more and more ground on
the novelist's art, he followed these up with divers singular
and not very edifjong books, such as Les Se2}t P'ccMs
Capitaux, Les Mysteres du Pcuple, and several others, all
on a very large scale, though the number of volumes —
ten, twelve, and sometimes even sixteen — gives rather an
exaggerated idea of their length. Some of his books,
especially the Wandering Jew and the" Mysteries of Paris,
were dramatized by liimself, usually in collaboration with
others. His popularity was immense, and, despite gross
faults both of art and of morality (the latter somewhals
exaggerated in general estimation, at least when the work
of his successors is compared), he deserved that popularity
in part. By an accident, which is noteworthy in the. case
of othfer pairs of novelists (notably in those of. Thackeray
and Dickens, and earlier of Fielding and Richardson), his
period of greatest success and popularity coincided with
that of another writer, and he has been even recently, and
by not despicable authorities, compared with and exalted
above Alexandre Dumas. This ia entirely unjust, for Sue
haa neither Dumas's wde range of subject, nor his genial
I'umanity of tone, nor his interest of character, nor, above
11, his faculty of conducting the story by means of lively
dialogue ; he has, however, a command of terror which
Dumas seldom or never attained, and which, melodi'amatic
as he is, sometimes comes within measurable distance of
the sublime, while his " purpose " gives him a certain energy
not easily to be found elsewhere in novel-writing. From
the purely literary point of view his style is undistinguished,
not to say bad, and his construction loose and prolix.
After the revolution of 1848 he sat for Paris (the Seine)
in the assembly from April 1850 until his exile as abovo-
mcntionod. This exile rather stimulated than checked his
literary production. The works of his last days, however
(the chief of which is perhaps Le Diahle Midecin), are on
the wliole much inferior to thoso of his middle period.
Sue died at A.'Mi^cy (Savoy) on 3d August 1859.
SUETONIUS. Caius Suetonius Tranquillus was one
of the many second-rate authors and men of letters who
lived in the early period of the Roman empire. He was
the contemporary of Tacitus and the younger Pliny, and
his literary work seems to have been chiefly done in the
reigns of Trajan and Hadrian. His father was an officer
in the army and military tribune in the Xlllth legion,
and he himself began life as an advocate. To us he is
known as the biographer of the twelve Caesars, from
Caius Julius down to Domitian. These lives are valu-
able as covering a good deal of ground where we are
without the guidance of Tacitus. As Suetonius was th^
emperor Hadrian's private secretary, he must have had
access to many important documents. It would seem
from occasional references which he makes to himself in
the course of the work that he was a youngish man in
the reign of Domitian, and so would have had opportuni-
ties of conversing with men who had lived in the days of
Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius, Nero, and had been present
at the scenes of civil war and anarchy which followed the
reign of the last-named. The most interesting fact about
Suetonius is that he was a friend and correspondent of the
yoimger Pliny, and the fact certainly tells in his favour.
Several pf Pliny's letters are addressed to him, and they
all imply esteem and intimate friendship. Sometimes
we find Pliny putting in a good word for him, as, for
instance, on one occasion doing his best to help him in
buying a small property at a fair price, not very far from
Rome, with a house of moderate size and land enough to
amuse but not to engross a man of scholarly tastes (i. 24).
In another letter (v. 10) he playfulfy rallies him on his
dilatoriness in publishing his works. Pliny does not men-
tion the subject of these works. Again he recommends
him to the favourable notice of the emperor Trajan, " as a
most upright, honourable, and learned man, whom persons
often remember in their wills because of his merits," and
he begs that he may be made legally capable of inheriting
ttese bequests, for which under a special enactment
Suetonius was, as a childless married man, disqualified.
Trajan granted Pliny's request (x. 94, 95). Hadrian's bio-
grapher, Spartianus, tells us that Suetonius had his private
secretaryship takep from him because he and some others
of the imperial officials were not sufficiently observant of
court etiquette towards the emperor's wife during his
absence in Britain.
Tho Lives of the Cxsars has alway^ been a popular work, at least
with scholars, and has been. frequently editeu, as well as translated
into most modem languages, tho latest English translation being
that of Thomson in 1796. Tho lives of the iirst six Caesars are
much fuller than those of tho last six ; this shows that he was an
industrious compiler rather than an original historian. He givea
us no picture of the society &f the time, no hints as to the general
character and tendencies of the i>criod. It is tho emperor, tba
emperor only, who is always before us, and yet after all the por-
trait is but a sorry performance, drawn without any real historical
judgment or insight. It is the personal anecdotes ho tells us,
several of which are very amusing, that give liis lives their chief
interest; bat he panders rather too much to a taste for scandal
and gossip. A good many of his scandalous stories about the
emperors may be and probably are fictions, but at any rate they
reflect tho gossip of the time. Still we owo him thanks for having
thrown somo light on an important period, parts of which ai-o very
obscure.
Suetonius is said to have been a voluminous ^vritcr, and among
his works Suidas mentions treatises on tlio Moman Year, Ciftro'a
liepuhlic, The Kings, The Pedigree of JUuslrious Jiotnans, and/to«c,
its Listilutions mid Customs, with several others, — works, it would
seem, of learned research. Under his name have come down to us
Lives of Terence, Juvenal, Horace, Tersius, Lucan, and his friend
tho youngpr Pliny ; but the genuineness of these is highly ques-
tionable, and that of tho last ia hardly worth considering. There is
also a work entitled Dc illustril/us gramiiuilicis, — a " grammatiens "
being what wo sliould call "a professor of language and litcraturo. "^
SUEUR, Eustache Le (1G17-1G55), one of the founders
of the French academy of painting, was born 19thNovem-
620
S U E — S U E
ber 1617 at Paris, where lie passed his whole life, »nd
where he died on 3Qth April 1655. His early death an J
retired habits have combined to give an air of romance
to his simple history, which has been decorated with as
many fables as that of Claude. We are told that, per-
secuted by Lebrun, who was jealous of his ability, he
became the intimate friend and correspondent of Poussin,
and it is added that, broken-hearted at the death of his vdie,
Le Sueur retired to the monastery of the Chartreux and
died in t,he arms of the prior. All this, however, is pure
fiction. The facts of Le Sueur's life are these. He was
the son of Catbelin Le Sueur, a turner and sculptor in
wood, who placed his son with Vouet, in whose studio he
rapidly distinguished himself. Admitted at an early age
into the guild of master-painters, he left them to take part
in establishing the academy of painting and sculpture, and
was one of the first twelve professors of that body. Some
paintings, illustrative of the Hypnerotomachia PolyphOi,
which were reproduced in tapestry, brought him into
notice, and his reputation was further enhanced by a series
of decorations (Louvre) in the mansion of Lambert de Thor-
igny, which he left uncompleted, for their execution was
frequently interrupted by other commissions. Amongst
these were several pictures for the apartments of the king
and queen in the l/ouvre, which are now missing, although
they were entered in Bailly's inventory (1710); but several
works produced for minor patrons have come down to us.
In the gallery of the Louvre are the Angel and Hagar, from
the mansion of De Tonnay Charente ; Tobias and Tobit,
from the Fieubet collection ; several pictures executed for
the church of Saint Gervais ; the Martyrdom of St Lawrence,
from Saint Grermain de I'Auxerrois; two very fine works from
the destroyed abbey of Marmoutiers ; St Paul preaching
at Ephesus, — one of Le Sueur's most complete and thorough
performances, painted for the goldsmiths' corporation in
1649 ; and his famous series of the Life of St Bruno, exe-
cuted in the cloister of the Chartreux. These last have
more personal character than anything else which Le Sueur
produced, and much of their original beauty survives in
spite of injuries and restorations and removal from the
wall to canvas. The Louvre also possesses many fine
drawings (reproduced by Braun), of which Le Sueur left
an incredible quantity, chiefly executed in black and white
chalk. His pupils, who aided him much in. his work, were
his wife's brother, Th. Gouss6, and three brothers of his
own, as well as Claude Lefebvre and Patel the landscape
painter. Most of his works have been engraved, chiefly
by Picart, B. Audran, Seb. Leclerc, Drevet, Chauveau,
Poilly, and Desplaces. Le Sueur's work lent itself readily
to the engraver's art, for he was a charming draughtsman ;
he- had a truly delicate perception of varied shades of
grave and elevated sentiment, and possessed the power
to render them. His graceful facility in composition
—as always restrained by a very fine taste, but his works
often fail to please completely, because, producing so much,
he had too frequent recourse to conventional types, and
partly because he rarely saw colour except with the cold
and clayey quality proper to the school of Vouet ; yet his
St Paul at Ephesus and one or two other works show that
he was not naturally deficient in this sense, and whenever
we get direct reference to nature — as in the monks of the
St Bruno series — we recognize his admirable power to
read and render physiognomy of varied and serious type.
See Guillet de St Georges, M^m. in4d. , C. Blanc, Histoire dcs
Peinlres; Vitet, Catalogue des Tableaux du Louvre; D'Argenville,
Kies des Peinlres.
SUEZ (SirwEis), the port of Egypt on the Bed Sea
and southern ' terminus of the Suez Canal (see below),
situated at the head of the Gulf of Suez in 29° 58' 37"
N. kt. and 32° 31' 18" E. long, (see vol. iv. pi. XXXVL).
The new harbours and quays are about 2 miles south
of the town, with which they are connected by an em-
bankment and railway, crossing a shallow which is dry
at low water ; the terminal lock of the freshwater canal
is on the north of the town near the English hospital
and the storehouses of the Peninsular and Oriental Com-
pany. The site is naturally an absolute desert, and till
the water of the Nile was introduced by the freshwater
canal in 1863 the water-supply of Suez was brought
across the head of the gulf from the "wells of Moses"
on the Arabian coast, or else carried on camels, an hour's
journey, from the fortified brackish well of Bir Suweis.
Thus, in spite of its favourable position for commerce,
Suez before the canal was but a small place. While the
canal was in progress the population rose from 5000 to
15,000, but has since declined. The canal, in fact, carries
traffic past Suez rather than to it ; and with its mean
bazaar and mosques and mongrel ' population the town
makes an unfavourable impression on the visitor, save for
the imposing view over the gulf, with the Sinai Mountains
on its eastern and Mount 'Atalja on its western shore.
A canal from the Kile to the Eed Sea, the indispensable con-
dition for the existence of a prosperous trading station at Suez,
appears to have existed in very early times. Classical writers say
that it was first planned by Sesostris (Raraeses II. ), and again
undertaken by Darius I., but fi."6t completed by the Ptolemies
(Aiht., Meteor., i. 14 ; Strabo, xiv. 25). The town at its terminus
was Arsinoe or Cleopatris. The work was renewed by Trajan under
the n3.vaa Augustus amnis, but the trade from the East with Egypt
still went mainly overland from Myus Hormus or from Berenice
on the Red Sea, below the Gulf of Suez, to Coptus in Upper Egypt.
Instead of Arsinoe later writers name the port of Clysma, which
the Arabs corrupted into Kolzum, calling the Eed Sea the Sea oi
Kolzum. On the Moslem conquest of Egypt the canal was restored,
and is said to have remained open more than a century, till the
time of Mansiir. According to Mas'udi {Moruj, iv. 98), Han'in al-
Eaahid projected a canal across the isthmus of Suez, but was per-
suaded that it would be dangerous to lay open the coasts of Arabia
to the Greek navy. Kolzum retained some trade long after the
closing of the canal, but in the 13th century it lay in ruins, and
the neighbouring Suez, which had taken its place, was, as Yakut
tells us, little better than a ruin. From Jlokaddasi, p. 196, it may
be inferred that the name of Suez originally denoted Bir Suweis.
Throughout the Middle Ages, as in Roman times, the main route
from Cairo to the Red Sea was up the Nile to Kus, and then through
the desert to Aidhab. With the Ottoman conquest Suez became
more important as a naval and trading station. Ships were built
there from the 16th century onwards, and in the 18th century an
annual fleet of nearly twenty vessels (Niebubr) sailed from it to
Jiddah, the port of correspondence with India. When the French
.occupied the town in 1798, and Bonaparte was full of his canal
project, Suez was much decayed, and the conflicts which followed
on its occupation in 1800 by an English fleet laid a great part of the
town in niins. The overland mail route from England to India by
way of Suez was opened in 1837. The regular Peninsular and Oriental
steamer service began a few years later, and in 1857 a railway was
opened from Cairo through the desert. This line is now abandoned in
favour of the railway which follows the canal from Suez to Ismailia,
and then ascends the Wady Tumeilat to Zakazik, whence branches
diverge to Cairo and Alexandria.
Suez Canal. The great engineering features have been already
treated of under Canal (vol. iv. pp. 789-792). The opening of the
canal to a great extent revolutionized the main lines of inter-
national traffic. More especially it has restored to the Mediter-
ranean countries a share m the commerce of the world such as
they have not possessed since the beginning of the modern period.
In doing so it has naturally caused the decay of certain stations
(such as St Helena) on the ocean highways previously in vogue.
In the case of saUing vessels, however, the winds at the Red Sea
entrance of the canal are so frequently contrary that much of the
advantage of the shortness of route is lost, and these vessels con-
sequently still take the old-fashioned detours. Traffic, too, in the
canal has so greatly increased that in 1886 a vessel was considered
fortunate that got through in forty-eight hours. In 1882 ship-
owners having expressed dissatisfaction with the condition of tho
service, schemes for rival canals were started, — one for a fresh-water
canal from Alexandria to Cairo and thence to Suez by way of Tel-
el-Kebir, another for a canal from Alexandria to Mansurali and
Ismailia, and then parallel to the original canal to Suez, and a
third for the construction of a second Suez canal, to be finished i^.
1888. These proposals all fell to- the ground ; but at length, in
f
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621
VIII.
1886 it was determined to widen the ensting canal so as to accom.
T, .date the increased traffic, and the works are now in progress
0,i^in»l!y nonstnicted by French capital, the Sue^ Canal bas passed
S and more into the financial ovn,ership as we 1 as under the
poical Protection of England In 1875 the Bat,sh Gov-nmen
rurchascci 176,602 shares from the khedivo of ESJ'Pt «) /''^ P""
l( £3,976,532, or, including comm.ss.on and ^^ff''-f'll^'^-^'
nnd exchequer bonds were issued to the value of £4.000,000 iiy
o^nin? un a passage by -hich the faunal forms of the Kcd Sea and
^fThe fle<iite?ranefn n/ay respectively advance "-f/"^-^;',','!; ^
,T<noni from which they have hitherto been excluded the canal lias
Scenome curious results, which ha^a been lately investigacd
U Dr Conrad Keller of Zurich (" /auna im Su^^'^^^f I "; ^f "f °"
de Mediter. u. Eryth. Thierwelt," in Ncue- DcnkschrifUn d. allg
s^IS^tGcs. f. klunoiss.. Zurich. 1883) Deep-sea formes are.
of contse prevented passing by the shallowness of the canal ;
and the sandy nature of th? soil, the large lakes, the currents
the distu b"ng inllucnce exerted by the continual movernent of
vessels and ti.e excessive saltness of the water all tend tohm t
lad retard the progress of even those forms most adapted to make
?Lir way thro,"gh%uch a channel. The salm.ty of th^ 5^ f
i, much V«»«-- than that of ih. Mediterranean or the Red Sea
ThMsdu^ mainly to two causes.-the rapid evaporation to whh
th. wLi ia the canal is subjected and the gradual melting of the
delosits of salt (the result J previous evaporation in distant ages)
fn^ome of theVcpression. thro'ugh which the -nal is earned In
the Bitter Lakes, for example, it was f°«°^,\" g^.^/, j^.^'^f 3^° ^JJ
Rvera^o each cubic metre of water conUifled 156 4211) ot s-ut, or
about three times as much as ordinary sea water i certain flum-
te^of forms common to the Red Sea and the Mediterranean appear
to have migrated from their original homes when in Quateiuary
°m the^ thmus was still a lagoon. These being discounted, the
bUow ng emain as the result of the recent connexion eBtabl.shed
betwTen the seas: (1) from the Mediterranean PAo/o^ca^rfirfa (as
far Is Ismailia), Solen vagiiia, Spli^roma scrrala (to the south of
TTmsah Uke) C?arcZi»m cduU, Gam,narus sp. (to the nearer end of
the Great Biter Lake), Solca vulgaris, Umbrina arrhosa Ascidia
rntestinalis^ud Labrax lupus (to the Ked Sea); (2) from the Red
Sea sevonteen forms were found journeying, but one on\y Mytdu^
variabiHshad got out into the Mediterranean proper ; Ostraaon
c^n-^ufand Cafanx macrophthalmus bad just got en route, ^d
PrlnpoL strident {ihe curious fish that utters a cry when caught)
J^faetra olorUa, and Ccrithium scabndum were found in Lake
Menzaleh. This lake seems to prove in the meantime an obstacle
to tho passage of eight other species. , ^v 4 %,i ;„ „„l ,v
The foUoling figures are in continuation of the table in voL iv.
p. 792.
Tear,
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
No. of
Vessels
entering.
Gross
Tonnage.
--
14P4
1457
1663
1693
1477
202s
2,940,708
3.072,107
3,418,949
3,291,535
8,236,942
4,344,519
Receipts.
£1,204,387
1,229,157
1,339,617
1,272,435
1,214,444
1,629,577
Year
No. of
Vessels
entering.
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
2727
8198
3307
S284
3624
3100
To°nna|e.i ^"^^"'P'^'
6,794,401 I £2,050,974
7,122,125
8,051,307
8,319,967
8,985,411
8,183,313
2,421,835
2,633,912
2,495,124
2,488,297
2,309,213
In 1883 10 francs 50 cents were charged per ton (net tonnage),
and pilotage dues amounted to 70 cents per ton on an average ;
on 1st July 1884 pilotago dues were abolished ; and m 1885 the
transit dues were reduced to 9 francs 50 cents per ton.
SUFFGLK, the most easterly county in England, is.
bounded E. by the North Sea, N. by Norfolk, W. by Cam-
bridge, and S. by Essex, the boundaries being chiefly the
sea and rivers; it has somewhat the shape of a half moon.
Its greatest length north t« south from Yarmouth to Land-
guard Point ia about 50 miles, and its average length about
30 • its greatest breadth from east to west is about 55
mU'es. The total area of the county is. 944,060 acres, or
1175 square miles. _
'The principal geological formatioDB ate the Chalk and
the Tertiaries, but they are frequently overlaid by drift.
The surface is for the most part flat or slightly uiidvilat-
ing. In the extreme north-west round Mildenhall it joins
the fen country. The fen land is bordered by a low range
of chalk hills extending from Haverhill by Newmarket
and Bury St Edmunds to Thctford. Tho Chalk extends
eastwards, but towards the south passes under the London
clay and crag, which adjoins the mouths of tho principal
rivers and extends from Sudbury by Ipswich to Aldcburgh.
The easterly slopes of tho Chalk are also overlaid by beds
pf clay, as well as by postGlacial gravels, in which flint
implements and other indications of the presence of pre-
historic man hav? been found. The most interesting
deposits are, however, those of the crag of the late
Miocene and Pliocene periods, resting on the London clay,
or, where it overlaps, on the Chalk. At the base of the
crag resting on the London clay is the famous Suffolk
bone bed. The coast-line has a length of about 52 miles,
and is comparatively regular, with only slight convexities
towards the sea, the bays being generally shallow and the
headlands rounded and only slightly prominent. The
estuaries of the Deben, Orwell, and Stour are, however,
of some length. The shore is generally low and marshy,
with occasional clay and sand cliffs. The rivers flowing
northwards are tho Lark in the north-west corner, which
passes in a north-westerly direction to the Great Ouse in
Norfolk ; the Little Ouse or Brandon, also a tributary of
the Great Ouse, flowing by Thetford and Brandon and
forming part of the northern boundary of the county ;
and the Waveney, which rises in Norfolk and forms the
boundary between that county and Suffolk, from Palgrave
till it falls into the mouth of the Yare at Yarmouth. The
Waveney is navigable from Bungay, and by means of Lake
Lothlng also communicates with Lowestoft. The rivers
flowing in a south-easterly direction to the North Sea are
the Blyth ; the Aide or Ore, which has a course for a long
•distance parallel to the seashore, and has its port at
Orford ; the Deben, from Debenham, flowing past Wood-
bridge, up to which it is navigable ; the Orwell or Gipping,
which 'is navigable to Stowmarket, whence it flows past
Needham Market and Ipswich; and the Stour, which
forms nearly the whole southern boundary of the county,
receiving the Brett, which flows past Lavenham and Had-
leigh ; it is navigable from Sudbury and has an important
port at Harwich. The county has no valuable minerals.
Cement is dug for Roman cement ; and lime and whiting
are obtained in various districts.
■^nriCHJiurc— Suffolk is one of the most fertile counties in Eng-
Und In the 18th century it was famed for its dairy products.
The high prices of com during the wars of the French Revolution
led to the extensive breaking up of its pastures, and it is now one
of the principal corn-growing counties in England. There is con-
siderable variety of soUs, and consequently in modes of farming, in
different partes of the county. Along the sea-coast a sandy loam or
thin sandv soil prevails, covered in some places with heath, on whioli
large quantities of sheep are fed, and interspersed with tracts, more
or less marshy, on which cattle are grazed. The best land adjoins
the rivers, and consists of a rich sandy loam, with patches of lighter
and easier soil. In the south-west and the centre is much fine corn
land, h.iving mostly a clay subsoil, but not so tenacious as the clav
in Essex. In climate Suffolk is one of tne driest of the English
counties, the rainfall being only half that of the counties in the
west Towards the north-west the soil is generally poor, consisting
partly of sand on chalk and partly of peat and open heath.
^ According to tho agricultural returns for 1886 780448 acres 0
nearly five-sixths of the total area were under o"Hivation 36.^.041
bfing under corn crops. 120,256 under green crops 94,893 clover
and rotation grasses, 174,970 permanent pasture, 19 flax, 57 hops
and 26,612 fallow. Wheat and bariey arc the "^ft important
of the corn crops, having an area of 118,873 and 151,b30 respect-
ivcly. Of green crops only 2452 were under Potatoes, while 55 434
were under turnips and swedes, 36,211 under mangold, 852 under
carrots, 4100 under cabbage, and 21.207 ""f ' ,"''^^";^S™
which indicate that much attentior. is paid to/Yl ^-i "62 w4r?
of cattle. Horses in 1886 numbered 42 617, of Y'-x^Vn': Suffolk
used solely for purposes of agriculture. The breed known as Suffolk
punches is one of tU most valued for agricultural purpose in EnR-
Fand (SCO Ar.RicuLTURF, vol. i. p. 385). Cattlo .°"">f5"J 'O^^j^'.
of wh ch 23,652 were cows and heifers in ni 1 k or in calf ad 17,3--
other cattle two years old and above. The ''"«'^. 'f "'' '° ^^'
county is a polled variety, on the improvement of whid.greapa^ns
have been bestowed in recent years. The old S«n-olk "„» f,„ ous
for their great milking qualities, ^o", "f ;"'° '^i°'"'^fk' is now
predominating. Tho improved are all "'^•„ ,""^1.7'"^,„" "°ed
sent to London, Yarmouth, &c. . Many ""l". "'"^''y nearly all
from Ireland, are grazed in the w nter. The ''fP »" "^^ J„Vd
e black-facedlmproved Suffolk breed a "0^2^\Zl\-^\\%t
of the black-faced improved bulloiK urccu u -■""",; "-V^t 939
Norfolk homed aheop and Southdowns. Sheep "«"'^"^'\,*; ;„7„"
of which 230.954 were ono year old and above. Suffolk is 1 .mou
622
S U f^— su r
for pigs. The breed most common is small and Tery compact, and
black in colo«r. Pi?s numbered 121,866 in 1»^.
The following table gives classifications of holdings in 1875 and
1885:—
2
50 acres
and under.
From 50 to From 100 to
100 acres. 300 acres.
From 300 to
500 acres.
From 500 to
1000 acres.
Above
1000 acres.
No. Area.
No. Area.
No.
Area.
No.
Area.
No.
Area.
Ho.
Area.
1875
1S85
5667
5607
66,251
64,899
1436 101,644 2043
1278 94,994 1872
336,383
330,133
3S7
409
137,894
154,690
169
174
110,169
116,089
12
17
14,744
22,314
Thus in 1875 there were in all 9714 holdings with 767,085 acres,
and in 1885 9357 with 782,019 acres. According to the latest
landowners Return (1873) Suffolk was divided among 19,276 pro-
prietors, holding 920,268 acres, at a valued rental of £1,784,827, or
an average all over of about £1, 18s. 9id. per acre. Of the
owners 12,511 or nearlj' three-fourths possessed less than one acre
each. The following possessed over 10,000 acres each : — Lord
Rendlesham, 19,869 ; George Tomline, 18,473 ; marquis of Bristol,
16,954 ; the maharajah Dhuleep H. H. Singh, 14,615 ; Lord Hunt-
ingfield, 11,713 ; earl of Stradbroke, 11,697 ; Sir Richard "Wallace,
11,223 ; Lord Henniker, 10,910.
Comviunication. — The river navigation affords means of com-
munication with different ports, and supplies facilities for a con-
siderable amount of traffic. The county is intersected in all
directions by branches of the Great Eastern Railway, which touch
at almost every town of importance. ■
Manufactures and Trade. — The county is essentially agricultural,
and the most important manufactures relate to this branch of in-
dustry. They include that of agricultural implements, especially
at Ipswich, Bury St Edmunds, and Stowmarket, and tliAt of arti-
ficial manures at Ipswich and Stowmarket, for which coprolites are
dug. Malting is extensively carried on throughout the county.
There is a gun-cotton manufactory at Stowmarket, and gun flints
are still made at Brandon. At different towns a variety of small
miscellaneous manufactures are carried on, including silk, cotton,
linen, woollen, and horsehair and cocoa-nut matting. The jirincipal
ports are Yarmouth (situated chiefly in Norfolk), Lowestoft, South-
wold, Aldeburgh, Woodbridge, and Ipswich. Yarmoutli is one of
the most important fishing stations on the east coast of England ;
within the county Lowestoft is the chief fishing town. Herrings
and mackerel are the fish most abundant on the coasts.
Administration and Papulation. — Suffolk comprises 21 hundreds ;
the boroughs of Beccles (pop. 6721), which has several large ma'lt-
ings ; Bury St Edmunds (16,111), the chief town in "West Suffolk;
Eye (2296), an ancient market to\vn ; Ipswich (50,546), the largest
town and principal port of the county ; Aldeburgh (2106), the birth-
place of Crabbe ; Southwold (2107), a fishing town and bathing
resort ; the largest part (5855) of Sudbury (6584), a market and
manufacturing town ; and small portions of the boroughs of Thet-
ford and Great Yarmouth, which are situated chiefly in Norfolk.
The other principal towns are Hadleigh (3237), with a considerable
trade in corn and malt; Haverhill (3685) (partly in Essex), of great
antiquity, and possessing important silk manufactures ; Lowestoft
(16,755), a port and fishing station; Stowmarket (4052); and
\Voodbridge (4544), ^vith some coasting trade. Suffolk is divided
into geldable portions, in which the sovereign has the chief rights,
and liberties. The liberties are those of St Etheldreda, St Ed-
mund, and the dukedom of Norfolk. The court of quarter ses-
sions is at Ipswich for the eastern division and by adjournment at
Bury St Edmunds for the western. There are nineteen petty and
sessional divisions. The hundreds of Hartismere and Stow and
the borough of Eye are for petty sessional purposes included in
the eastern division, and for other purposes in the western. The
boroughs of Buiy St Edmunds, Ipswich, Great Yarmouth, and
Sudbury have commissions of the peace and separate courts of
quarter sessions ; and Eye and Southwold have commissions of
tlie peace. For parliamentary purposes the county was until 1885
divided into East and West Suffolk, but it now constitutes five
divisions, each returning one member, viz.. North or Lowestoft
division, North-east or Eye, North-west or Stowmarket, South or
Sudbury, and South-east or Woodbridge. Bury St Edmunds re-
turns one member and Ipswich two ; Eye, which formerly returned
one member, was merged in the North-east division of the county
in 1885.' The county contains 617 civil parishes with parts of 7
others. It is mostly in the diocese of Norwich. From 214,404 in
1801 the population had increased by 1821 to 271,541, by 1841 to
315,073, by 1861 to 337,070, and by 1881 to 356,893, of whom
174,606 were males and 182,287 females. The number of persons
to an acre was 0-38 and of acres to a person 2-65.
History and Antiqxdtics. — The district which now includes Nor-
folk, Suft'olk, and a portion of Cambridge, and afterwards formed
East Anglia, had in early times, on account of the marshes to the
west, practically the character of a peninsula. It was inhabited
by the Iceni, who had their capital at Icklingham, in the north-west
of Suffolk. Of the numerous barrows and tumuli belonging to this
period mention may be made of those at Fornham St Gcnevcv&
and those between Aldeburgh and Snape. Many of the mediseval
castles were built on ancient mounds. The district submitted to
the Romans .during the campaign of Aulus Plautius, and, although
the Iceni joined the Trinobantes under Boadicea, the resistance
made was ultimately fruitless. A Roman road from London crossed
the centre of Suffolk northwards by Stratford St Jlary, Needham
Market, and Eillingford (Norfolk) to Norwich, another passing in
a more westerly direction to Thetford. Walton, where important
Roman relics have been found, Dunwich (possibly Silomagiis), and
Burgh Castle (probably Combretonium), one of the most perfect
specimens of a Roman fort in England, enclosing an area of five
acres, are supposed to have been Roman fortified stations erected
for the defence of the Saxon shore. Other Roman stations were at
Stratford St Mary, Thetford, and Icklingham. The capital of the
kingdom of East Anglia was at Dunwich in Suffolk. Afterwards
East Anglia was divided into Norfolk and Suffolk. Sigebert estab-
lished an ecclesiastical diocese at Dunivich in 630, and erected a
palace and a chui'ch partly oui of the Roman remains. The earldom
of Norfolk and Suffolk was bestowed by the Conqueror on Ralph
le Guader. Though Suffolk suffered from incursions of the Danes,
they did not effect a complete subjugation of it. The prevailing
terminations of the place names are Anglian. The renaains of old
castles are comparatively unimportant, the principal being the
entrenchments and part of the walls of Bungay, the ancient strong-
hold of the Bigods ; the picturesque ruiuii of jlettingham, built by
John de Norwich in the reign of Edward III. ; WingCeld, surrounded
by a deep moat, with the turret walls and the drawbridge still
existing ; the splendid ruin of Framlingham, with high and massive
walls, originally founded in the 6th century, but restored in tho
12th ; the outlines of the extensive fortress of Clare Castle, anciently
the baronial residence of the earls of Clare ; and the fine Norman
keep of Orford Castle, on an eminence overlooking the sea. Among
the many fine residences within the county there are several inter-
esting examples of domestic architecture of the reigns of Henry
VIII. and- Elizabeth. Throughout its whole history the annals of
Suffolk have been comparatively uneventful. It adhered with Nor-
folk to the cause of the Parliament. Jaraes duke of York twice
defeated the Dutch off the coast, — viz., Van Tromp off Lowestoft
on 3d June 1665 and De Ruyter in Soutliwold Bay on 2Sth May
-1672. Of monastic remains the most important are those of the
gieat Benedictine abbey of Bury St Edmunds, noticed under that
town ; the college of Clare, originally a .;ell to the abbey of Bee in
Normandy and afterwards to St Peter's, Westminster, converted
into a college of secular canons in the reign of Henry VI., and still
retaining much of its ancient architecture, and now used as a
boarding-school ; the decorated gateway of the Augustinian priory
of Butley; and the remains of the Grey Friars monastery at Dun-
wich. A peculiarity of the church architecture is the use of flint
for purposes of ornamentation, often of a very elaborate kind, especi-
ally on the porches and parapets of the towers. Another charac-
teristic is the round towers, which are confined to East Anglia, but
are considerably more numerous in Norfolk than in Suflblk, tho
principal being those of Little Saxham and Herringfleet, both good
examples of Norman. It is questionable whether there are any
remains of Saxon architecture in the county. The Decorated is
well represented, but by far the greater proportion of the churches
are Perpendicular, special features being the open roofs and wood-
work and the fine fonts.
See Elome's DescripHmi of SufoXk, 1673 ; Kirby's DescrijjJion, 1743, 2d ed.
1829 ; Suckling's History oj Suffolk, 1846-48 ; Hervey's Visitationof Suffolk in IS61,
ed., with additions, by Dr J. J. Howard, 1866 ; and Browne's History of Congre-
gationalism, and Memorial o/Chitrches in Suffolk^ 1877. (T. F. H.)
SUFISM. See Mohammedanism, vol. xvi. p. 594 ; Mys-
ticism, vol. xviL p. 1 30 ; and Sunnites, p. 659 sq. infra.
SUGAE. Formerly clietnists called everything a "sugar"
•wMcli bad a s-weet taste, and acetate of lead to this day is
known as "sugar of lead" in commerce and familiar chem-
ical parlance; but the term in its scientific sense soon
came to be restricted to the s-sveet principles in vegetable
and animal juices. Only one of these — cane sugar — -was
known as a pure substance until 1619, when Fabrizio Bar-
toletti isolated the sugar of milk and proved its individu-
ality. In regard to all other " sugars " besides these two
the knowledge of chemists ■was in the highest degree
indefinite, and remained so until about tiie middle of the
1 8th century, when ISIarggraf made the important discovery
that the sugars of the juices of beet, carrots, and certain
other fleshy roots are identical -n-ith one another and -with
the sugar of the cane. Lowitz subsequently showed that
the granular part of honey is something different from
cane sugar ; this was confirmed by Proust, who found also
SUGAR
623
itxat Lowitz's honey sugar is identical with a crystallizable
sugar present largely in the juice of the grape. Proust's
investigations extended to other sweet vegetable juices
also. All those investigated by him owed their sweetness to
one or more of only three species, — (1) cane sugar, (2)
grape sugar, (3) (amorphous) fruit sugar. Proust's results
obtain substantially to this day ; a number of new sugars
strictly similar to these three have been discovered since,
but none are at all widely diffused tlu'oughout the organic
kingdom.
The quantitative elementary composition of cane sugar
was determined early in the 19th century by Gay-Lussac
and Thenard, who may be said to have virtually estab-
'ished our present formula, CjoHojOj;. Under Fermenta-
noN (vol. ix. p. 93) it has been explained how Gay-Lussac
,in 1811) came to mis-correct his numbers so as to bring
them into accordance with what we now express by
CaH,20,-, = 10,211240,2. Dumas and BouUay, some years
later, found that cane sugar is' w-hat Gay-Lussac and The-
nard's analysis makes it out to be, while the " corrected "
numbers happen to be correct for grape sugar. Dumas
and Boullay's research completed the foundations of our
present science of the subject. "Sugar" is now a collect-
ive term for two chemical genera named saccharoses (all
CjoHooO,,) and glucoses (all C^HjjOg). AH sugars are
colourless non-volatile solids, soluble in water and also
(though less largely) in aqueous alcohol ; from either
solvent they can in general be obtained in the form of
crystals. "The aqueous solution exhibits a sweet taste,
which, however, is pnly very feebly developed in certain
species.
All sugars and their solutions have the power of turning the
plane of polarization of light. In a given solution of a given kind
pf sugar the angle o through which the plane is tamed is governed
by the equation a = ±[a]ZjD, where I stands for the length of solu-
tion traversed (the customary unit of lengtli being the centimetre)
jind^ for the number of grams of dry sugar present in a volume of
solution equal to that of (say) 100 grams (3-62 oz.) of water, where,
however, "gram" must be taken as merely a convenient word for
"unit of weight" ; ±[a], i.e., the special value of a for 1=1 and
p=l, is called the specific rotatory power of the sugar operated
upon. The sign ± indicates that tlie plane of polarization is turned
either to the right or to the left according to the nature of the
species. For a given species and a given temperature [a] has a
constant value. Supposing its value to have been determined by
standard experiments and I to be known (or to be kept constant
throughout and taken a,s unit of length), the deteiinination of a for
a given solution suffices for the calculation of p. This method is
largely used industrially for the assaying of cane sugar.
Sugars, though neutral to litmus and inert towards such substances
ai) carbonates on the one hand and aqueous acids (qua acids) on the
other, combine with strong bases, such as caustic potash, baryta,
and lime, into sacchandes, and, when brought into contact with the
strongest nitric acid (or a mi.\ture of the same with oil of vitriol)
or (at the proper temperature) with acetic anlsydride, unite witli
these into nitrates and acetates respectively, with elimination of
water. These nitrates, &c., are related to the respective sugar
exactly as (to take an analogous case) nitrate of methyl, CH3(N03),
is to methyl-alcohol, CH3(0H) ; only iu tho case of a sugar a plural
of NOa's is capable of entering into every one molecule and turning
out so many HO's ; hence sugars are sai<l to be polyvalent ulcohoh.
Of tho several points of difference between saccharoses and glucoses
the most important is tliat, while tlie latter remain unchanged
when boiled with liighly dilute sulphuric or hydrochloric (or certain
other kinds of) acid, the fornier take up water and every molecule
breaks un into two molecules of glucose, whicli in general are of
different kinds. Cane sugar, for instance, yields dextrose and Imvu-
lose (so ciileil from tho direction in which they turn tho plane of
jpolari/ed light), thus—
Ci.IIjjO,, -h HjO = CoH, A + CaHyO,
Cane Sugar Dextrose La;vulose.
Cano sugar turns tho plane of polarized light to tho right; the
niLxed glucose produced is lajvo-rotatory ; hence tho process is
spoken of technically as involving tho inversion of cane sugar, and
the mixed product is called invert sugar. Tho term " inversion,"
however, has come somehow to bo used for all decompositions which
fall under the ebov« equation ; occasionally it is used even in a
wider sense, to inchido any decomposition of a carbo-hydrate (e.g.,
rtarchXinto cwo less complex carbo-hydrates
All sugars are liable to fermentative changes ; a special
character of the three principal vegetable sugars is that,
when brought into contact as solutions with yeast (living
cells of EPccharomyces), under suitable conditions, they
suffer vinous fermentation, i.e., break up substantially into
carbonic acid and alcohol. Dextrose and tevulose break
up directly, — C.;H,oO, = 2aH,0 -I- 2CO2. Cane sugar
first, under the influence of a soluble ferment in the yeast,
gets inverted, and the invert sugar then ferments, the dex-
trose disappearing at a greater rate than the laevulose.
It is remarkable' that no sugar has ever been produced
artificially even in the sense of being built up from other
native organic substances of less chemical complexity.
It is easy to produce dextrose from starch, or laivulose
from inulin, or both from c ne sugar, by inversion ; but
none of these processes is reversible by known methods.
Yet the problem of producing cane sugar artificially may in
a sense be said to have found a virtual solution at the hand?
of a German-American chemist, Fahlberg.i Fahlberg bv
subjecting toluene, Ci^HjCHj (one of the components of
coal-tar naphtha), to a series of operations has produce 1
CO
from it a body, C|;H^ep.NH, which he called saccharine,
because he found it to be about 230 times as sweet as
cane sugar. This saccharine is a white crystallized solid,
only slightly soluble in cold water, but sufficiently so to
admit of its incorporation with jellies, puddings, bever-
ages, etc. A mixture of one part of it with 1000 parta
of ordinary grape sugar (as produced industrially from
starch) is as sweet as the best cane sugar. The sabstauce,
though an antiseptic, is said to be perfectly innocuous.
Glucoses.
Of these a pretty large number are now known, but only Isev U;
lose and dextrose need be noticed here. Both are largely present
in all k'nds of sweet fruit juices and in honey. In most of
these materials they arc accompanied by a small proportion of
cane sugar, which forcibly suggests that the glucose in fruit juices
is really inverted cane sugar. But, in opposition to this surmise,
the proportion of cane sugar in oranges increases during the process
of ripening, and the sourest of aU fruits — the lemon — contains four
parts of cane for every ten of invert sugar ; besides, the juic§s ol
grapes and sweet cherries contain no cane sugar whatever. Accord.
in_g to Stammer, the young leaves of tho sugar cano contain abun'
dance of invert sugar, which gradually disappears and gives way to
cane sugar as the leaves develop and ultimately dry up. In tho
living body of man dextrose is constantly being procluced from
the glycogen of the liver, to be taken up by the blood and oxi-
dized into carbonic acid and water. In certain diseases, howevCT
(seo NuTRrrioN, vol. xvii. p. 681), tho sugar survives and passes
into the urine ; as much as one pound avoirdupois may bo dis-
charged by a diabetic patient in twenty- four hours. A numerous
class'of vegetable substances, Vnowa as glucosidcs, contain glucoso
of some kind in tho sense that, when decomposed by boiling
dilute sulphuric acid or by the action of certain ferments, they
split up into glucose and some product — not a sugar — which is
cliaracteristic of tho rcspeihivo species. For examples, see Fer-
mentation, vol. ix. p. 96.
Dextrose is being produced industrially from starch by inversion
(see below), and sold as giapo sugar. Such grape sugar, however,
is very impure. For the preparation of pure dextrose rich diabetic
urine, honey, and cane su"ar are convenient materials. Tho
method recommended by Soxlilet is to dissolve ICO gi-ams (5'64 oz. )
of powdered cane sugar in a mixture of 500 c.c. of alcohol of 85
per cent, by weight and 20 c.c. of fuming hydrochloric acid at 45'
C. and to allow tlie solution to stand. After about a week dextrose
bigins to crystallize out, and, if tho mLxturo is being frequently
agitated, the deposit of crystals increases gradually. A.small crop
aq
crvstals, united into warts or caulillowor-likc masses, which contain
1H„0 of crystal .water beside CoH,.0„- The crystals lose their
water at 100° C. From absolute alcoliol it crystallizes as CoH,;Of,.
It dissolves in 1-2 parts of cold and far loss oi boiling, water. 100
parts of alcohol of U-8;i7 specilic gravity dissolve I'M parts at 17''-j
C. and 217 parts on boiling. Iu a given volume of aqueous solu-
• See Amer. Chem. Jour., i. p. 170, ii. p. ISl, and i. p. 425 ; «horl
notices in Jour. Soc. Chem. Jnd., iv. p. 608, and February ISbO.
624
« U G A R
hon 5 parts of dextrose produce the same degree of sweetness as 3
rf\rts of rane sugar. Dextrose fuses at 146° C. and at 170° passes
into glucosan, CjH,„05, an almost tasteless soliil, which when boiled
with dilute sulphuric acid is reconverted into dextrose. If a solu-
tion of dextrose in absolute alcohol is saturated with hydrochloric
acid gas at 0° C, di-glucose, CioHj^O,,, is produced, which, however,
IS only isomeric with cane sugar {(jautier).
Lxmlose.—Thn liquid part of crystalline honey consists chiefly
of lasvulose ; but its purification is difficult From invert sut^r it
can be extracted, according to Dubiunfaut, by cautious addition of
slaked lime at a low temperature. The laivulose separates out
as a difficultly soluble lime compound, which is separated from
the mother-hquor containing the dextrose by pressure and by
;udicious washing with cold water. The Isvulosate of lime is de-
composed by the exact equivalent of oxalic acid solution ; then the
oxalate of lime is filtered off, and the filtrate evaporated on a water-
Dith. The lievulose ultimately remains as a thick syrup, which
formerly was supposed not to be susceptible of crystallization ; but '
j/ungfleisch and Lefranc have succeeded lately in obtaining crystals
from It by means of alcohol. Lavulose is very largely soluble in
w^ter, and fully as sweet as cane sugar. It fuses at 95° C. ; at 170°
;t passes into Isevulosan, C^H^^O^, analogous to glucosan.
Ihe following reactions, though studied chiefly with dextrose
apply also to laevulose, and, sub.stantially at least, to glucoses generl
ally. If a solution of glucose is mixed with excess of caustic potash
or soda, a solution of alkaline glucosate is formed, which, however
hc.s little stability. If the solution is heated, the glucosate is
decomposed with formation of dark-coloured (soluble) alkali salts
ol acid products, which, whatever they may be, are not reconvertible
into glucose. Cane sugar, in these circumstances, remains sub-
stantiaUy unchanged, and can be regenerated by elimination of the
alkali. If a solution of glucose is mixed with (not too much) sul-
phate of copper, and an excess of caustic potash or soda be then
added, no precipitate of cupric hydrate is formed, but an intensely
blue_ solution, which, on standing in the cold gradually, and on
heating promptly, deposits a red precipitate of cuprous oxide, CunO
the glucose being oxidized at the expense of the dissolved CuO into
soluble alkali salts of little known acids. By means of this
(Trommer's) test the least trace of glucose in a solution can be dis-
covered. Cane sugar, in the circumstances, yields cuprous oxide
only on long-continued boiling. Fehling has brought this test into
the lollowing more convenient form, which, besides, admits of
quantitative application : 34-65 grams (1-22 oz.)of sulphate of copper,
OiSO^ + SH.O, and 173 grams (6 oz.) of Eochelle salt (double tartrate
ot potash and soda) are dissolved in a solution of 70 grams (2-46 oz )
of solid caustic soda, and the intensely blue solution produced is
diluted to 1000 c.c. Every c.c. of Fehling solution oxidizes about 5
milligrams (-077 gram) of dextrose (not of glucose generaUv). To de-
termme an unknown weight of glucose, its solution is added to an
excess of suitably diluted Fehling solution at a boUing heat, which
is mamtained for a sufficient time to oxidize the glucose as com-
pletely as possible,— the requisite time depending on the nature of
the glucose. The cuprous oxide precipitate is allowed to settle, is
then coUected on a filter, and weighed directly or indirectly From its
weight the weight of the glucose is calculated,— a standard experi-
ment with a known weight of the respective kind of pure glucose
furnishing the factor. A less exact but more expeditious method
IS to dissolve the sugar to be analysed in water, to dUute to a known
volume (not ess than 200 c.c. for every gram of glucose), and to
drop this solution from a burette into a measured volume of
dilute Fehling solution at a boiling heat untU the blue colour is
just destroyed, j.e., the copper just precipitated completely as Cu-.O.
Ihis method is largely used in sugar-houses in the assaying of cnide
cane or beetroot sugars.
Saccharoses,
be?/ tI» v^*"^?* '"^''•' ""'i" ="Sar, and maltose can be noticed
here. The highest qualities of commercial cane sugar are chemi-
^wn^^"""^"! T "^''^ '"8" crystallizes from its Supersaturated
syrup in colourless, transparent monocUnic prisms (exemplilied in
colourless candy sugar). The crystals are barely, if at all, hygro
scopic ; they are rather hard, and when broken up in the d^rk five
off a pecu bar kind of bluish light. Sp. gr. 1-593 at 4° C The
aqueous solution, saturated at t' C, contaSs p per cent, of dry
1= 0° 10" 20- 30"
J) = t)50 65-6 67-0 69-8 V5-8 S2-7.
60*
From 50 upwards the solubility increases at such a rate that a
given quantum of water dissolves any quantity of sugar" the mix
turo IS constantly kept boiling. Accordingly a sugfr syrup Xn
boiled down deposits nothing, but passes gi^duallylnto Ae^condi
tion of fused sugar when the boiling-point merges into the fus"nl
point of sugar, which lies at 160-161° 0. Even a- cold-saturated
harX di: olT' '" "'^ T,"^'^'*^"^^ °f ^ ^-^-^ Absolute ale hoi
Hree^ the ilff '"f ' ""^ ^" j.aqueous alcohol dissolves it the more
i ^nL™S . 't^P.™P.°f fo« of water. Fused sugar freezes into
a transparent glass, which is cplourless if pure, but in practice eener-
alJy exhibits a yellowish hi,e, and. if really anhyd^rous reSs
hem in the less soluble form of crvftals°so tW W1 ^'P°"'
higher temperatures it loses water and nas^.. irtn Lt T^'i" .
reconvertible into cane sugar, which arrknn.-^" ^^^y^^^^^^s not
as"carame!,--a most interns ly brow^^iscouird tj^^'^^,'
in water and in aqueous alcohol, with Cn^^tin^J-f * ,^ T'"'''?
bu contmued contact with even so feeble an I cid a^carbonic induces
at least partial inversion. The statempnt ,,f ti, v , -(^
of sugar solution on boili;g seems hardlvC^diS" unchangeab.lity
boilin'g at all considerablf ^S^e lOo' c conul^s rfe'ntTo? Z"^^
cules at temperatures above 160° C, whTch are Cnnld Ttr
irreversible conversion into dextrose and te^nTosan^oA^vu los^T
and even if hot enough, caramelization. ' In ordinary pracUce'
?his tiorv ^Tan^^""""' on boiling do behave as in^dicS by
this theory Cane sugar, as already stated, unites with alkali^
alkaline earths, and other of the more strongly- basic metallic oxidc^
into saccharates. A soluble saccharate of^lime, wWch is readily
decomposible by carbonic acid and even by filtration through bo ,^
charcoal plays a great part in the manufacture of sugar The fol!
lowing strontium salt must be named, because it at least promised
tZUIti" l1° to occupy a similar position industriiuy. ^c^rd-
1 hoilinl i'. ' '' f'""?"^ ^^''^'^^'' SrOH,0-f8H„0, is added to
a boiling 15 per cent, solution of cane sugai', then a's soon as 2«!.^^
out1s1st^'^■"^^■^^='^"°," *^ ^^" clliX-flsrO se%?fe°
mo-t ".n t, ^ P"""'^"' ""-i. "f--'- addition of 2-5 times SrO al-
wa.heliH !? '""" '5 P'-^'^'P't^ted. The precipitate is easily
Tf n^o1^ w decomposed by water and carbonic acid,%vith formation
reorodtpH? '"^"^ %°f '^°^^i^ (^om which the hydrate can be
reproduced) and a solution of cane sugar. The ultimate molasses
rytlf.Z'''^'' '"''''%'' ^'^fi-'-^' '^°-S^ they refuse to depS?
crystals under any conditions, conUin some 30 to 40 per cent of
real cane sugar ; Scheibler's process applies to them,-to put the
industrial beanngs of the discovery in the proper 1 ght iand it
has led to quite a series of patents for the pr^odu^ction^of strontia
ilidJistr/ ^ ^'' ' '' "" ^''^'^ '° ^^' "°* '"" t"^* ^"S"
wS'r'^t^'"' °'''"" '1*' ?'"' "'■ """""^Is, and it is doubtful
whether it occurs anywhere else, although Bouchardat once proved
]./"Tr '° '^.??'>^PI^In"ked as sugar obtained from Sapota
Ackra^ (the sapodilla of the West Indies^ It is made industriX
in bwitzerland as a bye-product in the making of cheese. It passes
mo the whey, from w-hfch it is extracted by evaporatio; to aS
Frir^L "^^-'r ""i^^ *1'"^^ <=h"<^°^'' ^"d crystallization.
From the commercial product the pure substance can be obtaine-'
by repeated recry-stallization from water, and ultimately by pre'-
cipitation from the aqueous solution by alcohol. Milk sn^r as
hJ^f^ ''/?";™l'='' "°<^" t''^ ordinary conditions fonns
hydrated crystals of the composition C,„Hio„ + H,0 ; under
certain conditions anhydrous crystals separate out! The hydrated
crystals have pretty much the aspect of candy sugar, but they aro
less transparent, far harder, quite free from every soupcoi ol
hygroscopicity and far less sweet They dissolve in six parts o(
cold and in 2-5 parts of boiling water ; the solutions are not
sjrupy. Milk sugar is hardly soluble in alcohol. The ordinary
crystals, as the formula shows, have the composition of a glucose :
indeed mi k sugar solution behaves to caustic alkalis and to
J<ehling solution as if it were a glucose. But the hydrated crystals
lose their water at 130°, with formation of a residue reconvertible
into the original substance by the mere action of water ; besides
milk sugar is susceptible of inversion into dextrose and a specific
galactose. The optica] behaviour of a milk sugar solution varies
according as it is derived from the ordinary crystals or the anhy-
dride produced at 130°, and according to the time which has elapsed
since Its preparation'; but if it stands sufficiently long the specific
rotatory power assumes ultimately the same (constant) value. Milk
sugar solution when brought in contact with yeast does not suff-cr
vinous fermentation ; but certain Spallpihc induce a fei-mcntetion
involving the formation of alcohol and of lactic acid. This process
IS utilized by the Kirghiz in the production of their natire drii.k,
"koumiss," made from mare's milk (see Milk, vol. xvL p. 305).
Milk sugar is used in medicine as a diluent for dry medicines,
liomffiopathists use it by preference. A solution of milk sugar in
certain proportions of water and cow's milk is used occasionally
as a substitute for mother's milk.
Maltose does not occur in nature ; it is largely produced along
with dextrin when starch paste is acted upon by dilute suljihunr
SUGAR
625
«54 otthe ferment called "diastase," which is .f PP<>5«^ *» ^!.*^f
Sctire went in malt. For its preparation 2 kilograms (4-40 ft) of
^teto^tlrch are made into a'paste with 9 litres (15-84 pints)
^ water over a water-bath ; after allowing it to cool down t6
60° or 65° C., an infusion of from 120 to 140 grams (4-23 to 5
o") of malt made at 40° C. is added. The mixture is kept at
from 60° to 65° for an hour; it is then boiled and filtered.
The filtrate is evaporated to a syrup, which is exhausted twice
with alcohol of 85 per cent, by weight and then once with absolute
ricohol The dextrin (mostly) remains ; the maltose passes into
solution The alcoholic extracts are evaporated to a syrupy con-
sistence and allowed to stand. Tho absolute alcoho extract soon
yields a crop of impure crysUls of maltose, which are used to
Induce crystallization in the other two syrups J" regard to the
Bomewhat tedious methods of purification we refer to the handbooks
KImistry. Maltose crystaUizes (from alcohol on spontaneous
evaporation) in fine needles of tho composition 0,„ilj2U„-t-noy.
The H,0 goes off at 100° C. Maltose is less soluble in alcohol than
dextrose, to which it is otherwise very similar. To caustic alkaUs
and FehUng solution it behaves exactly as dextrose does. Like it
it suffers vinous fermentation under the influence of yeast. W nen
boiled with dilute sulphuric acid it breaks up into (so to sa>) dex-
trose and dextrose. Maltose plays an important part in the brewing
fcf alcoholic malt licjuors. ^ • ''
History.
The original habitat of the sugar-cane is not known, but it seems
to have been first cultivated in tie country extending from Cochin
China to Bengal (De CandoUe). Sugar reached the Wc^t ^^om
India, and at I comparatively Ute date. Strabo (xv. i. 20) has an
inaccurate notice from Nearchus of the Indian honey-bearing reed,
and various classical writers of the first century "^ °"^,"^,''°|.'5f
the sweet sap of the Indian reed, or even the granulated salt- like
product which was imported from India, or from Arabia and Opone
(these being entrepots of Indian trade),' under the nanw of sac-
.-harum or HKyo-pi (from Sanskr., sarhartt, "gravel, •7Sugar ),
and used in medicine. The art of boiling sugar was known in
Gangetic India, from which it was carried to China in the hrst
half of the 7th century ; but sugar-refining cannot have then been
known, for the Chinese learned the use of ashes for Ais purpose
only in the Mongol period, from Egyptian visitor3.2_ The cultiva-
tion of the cane in the West spread from Khuzistan m Persia. At
Gunde-Shapur in this region ' ' sugar was prepared with art about
the time of the Arab conquest,^ and manufacture on a large scale
was carried on at Shuster, Siis, and Askar-Mokram throughout the
Middle Ages.'' It has been plausibly conjectured that the art ot
sugar-refining, which the farther East learned from the Arabs, was
developed by tho famous physicians of this region, in whose phar-
macopoiia sugar had an important place. Under the Arabs the
■erowth and manufacture of the cane spread far and wide, from
India to Siis in Morocco (Edrisi, ed. Dozy, p. 62), and were also
introduced into Sicily and Andalusia. . , ■ j. 4.1,
In the age of discovery the Spaniards became in their turn the
tOTeat disseminators of the sugar cultivation : the cane was planted
lly them in Madeira in 1420 ; it was carried to San Domingo in
1494 ■ and it spread over the occupied portions of the West Indies
and South America eariy in the 16th century,. Within the first
twenty years of the 16th century tho sugar trade of San Domingo
expanded with great rapidity, and it was from the dues levied on
the imports brought thence to Spain that Charies V. outoined
funds for his palace-building at Madrid and Toledo. In the Jliddle
lAges Venice was the great European centre of the sugar trade, and
Sowards the end of the 15th centuiy a Venetian citizen received a
reward of 100,000 crowns for tho invention of the art of making
floaf-sugar. One of the earliest references to sugar in Great Britain
is that of 100,000 lb of sugar being shipped to London in 1319 by
Tomasso Loredano, merchant of Venice, to be exchanged for wool.
In the same year there appears in the accounts of the chamberlain
of Scotland a payment at tho rate of Is. 9Jd. per pound for su^ar.
throughout Europe it continued to bo a costly luxury and article
of medicine only, till the increasing use of tea and coflce m the
18th century brought it into tho list of principal food staples. The
increase in the consumption is exemplified by the fact that, while
\ 1 Lucan, ill. 237; Soneca, Eplst., 84 ; Pliny. Jl-N.
sugar was produced In Arabia as well as in India)
, xii. 8 (who supposes that
^ _ in aruDii. u» "ui. «o . , ; Ftmpl. Mar. Eryth., § l-l ;
aDioscorldcs, ii. 104. Tho view, often repeated, that the saccharum or the
Sncients Is tho hydrate of silica, sometimes found in bamboos and knoOT m
lArabinri medicine as tabdshlr, is refuted by Yule, Angto.Indian Glossary, p. OjI ,
«ee also Not. et Extr. 'dc$ MSS. de la ISM. t!at., xxv 207 »/;.
' a Marco Polo, cd. Yule. 11. 208, 215. In the Middle Ages the best sugar
came from Egypt (Kazwini, i. {HI), and in India coarse sugar is still called
Chinese and line sugar Cairene or Egyptian. , _ , r„, ,1.
, « So tho Annenian Orography ascribed to MosES OF CcOBEhf {.q.v. for tho
dflteof tho work); St Mortin, W™. siir i'/lrmMie, il. 372.
4 Istakhrl, p. 91 ; Y4kut,ii. ■1U7. Tha'Alibi, a writer of tho llth century,
Bays that Askar-Mokrara had no equal for the qn»Uty »nd quantity of lt«
sugar, '■ notwithstanding tho great production of '(rik, Jor un and Indi";
It used to pay 60,000 pounds of sugar to tho sUlUn in annual tribute (fxilui/,
p. 107). The names of sugar In modern European languages aro derived
through the Arabic from the Persian thakar.
in 1700 the amount used in Great Britain was 10,000 tons, in 1800
it had risen to 150,000 tons, and in 1885 the total Quantity "Used
was almost 1,100,000 tons. , . ,
In 1747 Andreas Sigismund Marggraf, director of the physical
classes in the Academy of Sciences, Beriin, discovered the existence
of common sugar in beetroot and in numerous other fleshy roots
which grow in temperate regions. But no practical nse wa3
made of the discovery during his lifetime. The first to establish
a beet-sugar factory was his pupil and successor, Franz Carl Achard,
at Cunern (near Breslau) in Silesia in 1801. The processes used
were at fijst very imperfect, but the extraordinary increase in the
price of sugar on the Continent caused by the K?noleonic pohcy
gave an impetus to tho industry, and beetroot factories were
established at many centres both in Germany and in France In
Germany the enterprise came to an end almost entirely with the
downfall of Napoleon I. ; but in France, where at first more
scientific and economical methods of working were introduced, the
manufacturers were able to keep the industry alive. It was not,
however till after 1830 that it secured a firm footing ; but from
1840 onwards it advanced with giant strides. Now it is an
industry of national importance, especially in Germany, control-
ling in the meantime the market against the cane-sugar trade.
While cane sugar was practically without a rival, the cultivation
was in general highly profitable, but it was conducted under
tropical skies, largely by slave labour and entirely removed from
scientific supervision. The staple produced at the plaiitations waj
raw su<Tar, which was sent to Europe to be refined. It was not
rill the°pressure of the competition with beet sugar began to make
itself felt that planters realized the necessity for improving their
methods of working. It ha? now been found possible to apply
many of the processes and appliances devised in connexion with
the production of beet sugar to the extracHon of its older rival.
Manufacture.
Cane Sugar Manufacttjre. -The sugar-cane {Saccharum ojicin-
arum) is a species of grass, the stalks or canes of which reach a
height of from 8 to 15 feet, and attain a diameter of I4 to 2 inches.
The stalks are divided into prominent joints or intemodes, tne,
lo-e sheathing alternate leaves springing from each joint. As the
canes approach maturity they throw up a long smooth hollow joint
termed the arrou', whence springs the flower head, consisting ot
beautiful feather-like loose panicles. The points are filled with a
loose spongy fibrous mass, saturated with a juice which is at hrst
watery but afterwards becomes sweet and glutinous. As the joints
ripen, the leaves wither and fall away and the stem becom*
externally smooth, shining, and hard, containing much silica^
The varieries of sugar-cane in cultivation are very numerous, and
are distinguished from each other by external colour, length of
internodes (3i to 10 inches), height to which they grow, ricliness
in juice, and many other characters. The four principal classes
cultivated in the West Indies are the Creole or country cane, the
Tahiti cane, the Batavian cane, and the Chinese cane An average
sample of Tahiti cane at maturity contains-water a-04 per cent.;
sugar 18-00 ; ligneous rissuC and pectin, 9-56 ; albumen, colouring
r^ftter, and'inroluble salts, 1-20; silica, 020 The sugar-cane
requires a rich, well-drained, but moist soil. It is nropagated by
slips taken from the upper part of the canes which are planted
at -intervals about 5 feet apart or in close-set rows 6 fe^^t apart
In 'the West Indies the planting takes place between June and
October, and in the case of the Creole variety the canes are ready
for cutting doivn by the beginning of January in * '« s^^o^'i
foUowing year. When mature tho canes are cut down close to tho
cround, the remaining leaves and upper shoot removed, and the
ftalks immediately t^kcn to the mi\f for crushing. The s ocks
left are liberally manured with crushed remains and ashes of
former crops, combined with nitrogenous manures and "e cover«l
over; they then send up a crop of new stems, termed "Moo^.
The system of rattoouing can be contim«d for ?=^^<=.f»; y<',^";^"'
the canes so treated go on declining in size and in y"='.'l "f f^fi
The yield of canes, of course, vanes within wido limita , but I'd
tons per aero may bo regarded as a good average crop
CaL-Cn«/m,y.-The juice is «tracted by pressing the canes in
a sugar-mill between three, or sometimes five ''^^y «'°f "=*'
rollers of iron, placed horizontally in a powerful f'--'""=«°;\°
cheeks. In a three -roller mill they consist of a »f • '°^' /^^'^
mcgass roller respectively. The top roller is set above ^"'> ^"^Jj^S
the other two, and under its periphery is a fixed "'^^'l I^^™^*;
the trash turner, which guides the cane coming from l«»"<;" '^»
cane and top roilcrs into the bite between '"P ""Vlf'^ri'n Wf
Generally the cano roller is screwed up to withm half an inc of
the top roller, while the free spaco between top and ""•P^ "''^"
is considerably less. The mill is set in motion Uy f am po«er
and the canes are fed by hand on a travelling band or earricrin o
tho rollers. If a thick feed is placed at one side and it at ho
other, one portion passes through imperfoctly ""'•' «''• ^\'' " 1^
other severely strains the mill and may either stop l'>" "> , >'"'^f
or cause a breakdown by some portion giving way.i Tlic jicW.oi
626
SUGAR
juice obtained with an ordinary mill varies from 60 to 65 per cent.
One of the most useful devices for improviuj; the machinery is the
substitution of an hydraulic attachment, whidi can be applied to
the headstocks of any of the rollers, in place of the rigid and im-
movable screws and wedges of the ordinary mill. This secures a
uniform pressure with the most irregular feed and much greater
pressure than is possible with rigid rollers, resulting in a greatly
increased yield of juice (67 to 70 per cent.) and a megass or refuse
proportiouately drier and therefore more available for fuel for steam-
raising. The juice from the mill is led into a trough, whence it is
carried by pipes to the clarifiers. But even the most perfect system
of mechanical pressure leaves a large percentage of sugar in the
refuse cane, and to remedy this the diffusion method (see below),
which has been attended with remarkable success in the beet in-
dustry, has been also applied to the extraction of cane juice. At
Aska (Madras) in India it has been found possible by that process
to obtain as much as 87J of the 90 per cent, of juice present in
oanes. Considerable difhculty was at first fou'id in slicing the
silicious stalks for diffusion ; but this process seems to promise a
much more exhaustive extraction of the juice than can be secured
by mechanical means. The juice is a turbid frothy liquid of a
yellowish green colour, with a specific gravity of from 1-070 to
about 1-100. The variety of cane cultivated, its age, and especially
the nature of the season in which it has gro^vu as regards rain, all
hare an important influence on the yield of sugar. The expressed
juice contains from 15 to IS per cent, of solids, showing on a good
average — sugar, 14-55 per cent; glucose, 1-65; non- saccharine
solids, -917 ; ash, -283. The juice got from sugar-cane is much
richer in sugar and less contaminated with non-saccharine solids
than that yielded by beet ; and its pleasant taste and aromatic
odour contrast markedly «-ith the acrid taste and unpleasant smell
of beet juice.
Purifica- Purification of the Juice. — In the liot climates where sugar-canes
fion of grow a process of fermentation is almost immediately set up in
eane the impure juices from the canes, causing the formation of invert
^nice. sugar and later products of fermentation, and thereby a serious loss
of sugar. It is therefore essential that with the least possible
delay the manufacturing processes should be proceeded with. The
juice is first filtered through a set of sieves to remove the mechanical
impurities it carries from the mill. Then it is run into the clarifiers,
a series of iron vessels capable of holding six or eight hundred
gallons of juice; and in these it is heated up to about 130° Fahr.,
and milk of lime is added in quantity sufficient to neutralize the
acid constittients it contains. The heat is then raised to just
under the boiling-point, when gradually a thick scum rises aud
forms on the surface, and when the defecation thereby effected is
complete the clear liquid below is drawn off. Various other sub-
stances besides lime are employed for the defecation of juice, one of
which, the bisulphite of lime in the so-called leery process, has
attained considerable favour. The bisulphite is added in excess ;
the acids of the juice decompose a certain proportion of it, Hberat-
ing sulphurous acid, which by its influence promotes the coagula-
tion of the albuminous principles and at the same time promotes
the bleaching of the liquid. In another process the green juice is
first treated with sulphurous acid, which (with the natural acid
constituents) is subsequently neutralized by lime. Recently also
I phosphoric acid has come into favour as a defecating agent.
Boiling Dozen. — From the clarifier the juice passcl on to the
battery, a range of three to five pans or "coppers," heated by
direct fire, in which it is concentrated down to the crystallizing
point. The juice, gradually increasing in density, is passed from
the one into the other till it reaches the last of the series, the
striking teach, in which it is concentrated to the granulating point.
The skimmings from these pans are collected aivj used for making
rum. From the striking teach the concentrated juice is remove?
to shallow coolers, in which the crystals form. A few days later
it 13 transferred to hogsheads in the curing-house, and the molasses
is dramed away from the crystallized raw sugar into tanks. The
sugar so obtamed is the muscovado of the sugar-refiners, and both
that and the molasses form their principal i-aw materials. Clayed
sugar consists of ra\v sugar fron- which a portion of the adherent
molasses has been dissolved by the action of moisture percolating
through it from moist clay laid over its surface. Labour difficulties
and scarcity of water operate against the general introduction of
improved systems of working cane-juice, but in many plantations
central usines or sugar-factories have been established with great
success. In these the canes of many growers are worked up with
the aid of the triple effect apparatus, the vacuum pan, and the
centi-ifugal separator employed by beet manufacturers. Wetzel's
pan. Fryer's concreter, and similar devices for the efficient evapora-
tion of juice by exposing it to the action of heat in thin films over
an extended surface are also in use.
Beet Sugar Manufacture.— The sugar beet is a cultivated
-rariety of Beta maritima (natural order Chenopodiacem), other
Tarieties of which, under the name of mangold or mangel -mirzel,
are grown as feeding-roots for cattle. The plants are cultivati-d
'ike turnips, and the roots attain their maturity in about five months
after sowing, bemg gathered during September and October. Tho
etiorts of growers have been largely directed to the development of
rootsyieldingjuice nch in sugar; and especially in Germany theso
efforts have oeen stimulated by the circumstance that excise duty
on inland sugar is there calculated on the roots. The duty is based
on the assumption that from 124 parts of beet 1 part of gi-ain sugar
IS obtained ; but m actual practice 1 part of raw sugar is now yieldeJ
by 9-27 parts of root. Moreover, when the sugar is exported a
drawback is paid for that on which no duty was actually levied .
and hence indirectly comes the so-called bounty on German su<^r.l
In 1836 for 1 part of sugar 18 parts of beet were used, in 1850
13-8 parts, m 1800 12-7 parts, and now (18S7) about 9-25 parts
only are required. In France till recently the inland duty was
calculated on the raw sugar ; hence the French grower devoted
himself to tli£ production of roots of a large size yielding great
weight per acre, and had no motive to aim at rich juice aud econo-
mical production. Many processes, therefore, have come into nso
in German factories which are not available under the French
methods of working. But since 1884 the French manufactin-ei-s
have had the power to elect whether duty shaU be levied on thel
roots they use or on the raw sugar they make, and a large propor-
tion have already chosen the former. The nature of the season^
exercises much influence on the composition of sugar beet, especially
on its richness in sugar, which may range from 10 to 20 per ceatl
The following represents the limits of average compositiou : — -
^ater . . t 34.5 jq "9-0
Sugar and other soluble bodiej ) ... J"""! 11-5 to 17-0
Cellulose and other soUds j-souda ^.^ ^.^
The non-saccharine solids in the juice are very complex, embrac-
ing albumen, amido-acids, and other nitrogenous bodies, beetroot
gum, soluble peci.ose compounds, fat, colouring matter, with the
phosphates, sulphates, o.xalates, and citrates of potash, soda, lime,*
aud iron, and silica. The relation and relative proportion of these
to the sugar present are of the utmost importance.
Two distinct ways of obtaining the juice from beet are now Extr
principally employed,— pressure and diffusion. The mechanical tiou
methods of pressure are principally used in France ; the process of juice
diffusion is all but universal in Germany. Formerly a modified
diffusion process— maceration— was in use ; but it has now been
generally abandoned, as has also a means of separating the juice by
centrifugal action. For the mechanical processes the roots have
first to be reduced to a condition of fine pulp. For this purpose Metl
the roots, thoroughly trimmed and washed, are fed into a pulping of pi
machine, in which a large drum or cvlinder, armed with close-set sure,
rows of saw-toothed blades, is revolved with gi-eat rapidity, so that
the fleshy roots on coming against them are rasped down to a fine
uniform pulp. The operation is assisted by pouring small quanti-
ties of water or of watery juice on the revolving drum, which thins
the pulp somewhat, and aids the free flow of the juice in the sub-
sequent operation. The expression of the juice is effected either
by the hydraulic press or by continuous roller presses. From the
hydraulic press the juice flows freely at first ; but in order to obtain
the largest possible yield it is necessary to moisten the fii-st press-
cake and submit it to a second pressure, whereby a thin watery
juice is expressed. After having been pressed twice, the cake that
is left should amount to not more than 17 per cent, of the original
roots; hence, allowing 4 per cent, for ligneous tissue, kc, only
about 13 per cent, of water, sugar, and soluble salts, &c., remain
in the refuse. For the system of continuous pressure presses ana-
logous to the mills employed for cane-crushing are used. Many
modifications of the roller press have been introduced, and, although
the best express from 3 to 5 per cent, less juice than the hydraulic
press, they have several advantages under the system formerlyi
common iu France, which bound the maker to return press-cake
containing a certain proportion of sugar for use as a feeding-stuff
on the farm. In certain forms of press the lower rollers are per-
forated to allow the escape of the expressed juice ; in some the
rollers are covered with india-rubber, so that they give an elastic
squeeze on an extended surface.; and in others the pulp is carried
in an endless cloth through a series of rollers, being all the while.
subjected to gradually increasing pressure.
The diffusion process for obtaining beet juice depends on tHe
action of dialysis, in which two liquids of dillerent degrees of con.j
ceutration separated by a membrane tend to transfuse through the,
membrane till equilibrium of solution is attained. In the beet the'
cell-walls are membranes enclosing a solution of sugar. Supposing
these cells to be brought into contact w'ith pure water, then by
theory, 'if the ceUs contain 12 per cent, of juice, transfusion will
go on till an equal weight of water contains 6 per cebt. of sugar,
while by the passage of water into the cell the juice there is reduced
to the same density. Taking the 6 per cent, watery solution and
w-ith it treating fresh roots containing again 12 per cent, a 9 per
cent solution will be attained, which on being brought a third
time in contact with fresh roots would be raised to a density of
10-5. Thus theoretically seven-eighths of the whole sugar would
he obtained at the third operation, and it is on this theory that
the diliusion process is based. In working the process a ranee of
SUGAR
627
Iten or twelve diffusers are employed, eignt teing in operation
Ihile the others are being emptied, cleaned, and ^^W''^''- J^ese
diffuscra consist of large close upright cylinders capable of holding
«^1wo or three tons'of sliced roots. They are provided with
manholes above, perforated false bottoms, and pipes communicating
^th each other so tl,at the fluid contents of any one can be forced
r pressure into any other. In working, pare water f.om an
elevated tank is run into No. 1 cylinder, whict contains the slices
almost exhausted of their soluble contents ; it percolates the mass,
and bv pressure passes into No. 2, where it acts on slices some-
what richer in jSice. So it goes through the series, acquiring
density in its progress and meeting in each successive cy Under
slicea increasingly rich in juice. Before entering the last cylinder
the wa?ery juice is heated, and under the combined influence of
halt and pressure the juice within the cylmdfr becomes richly
?Wed wUh si^ar. No. 1 cylinder when exhausted is discon-
nectfd ; No. 2 then becomes No. 1, and a newly charged cyUnder
is joined on at the other extremity ; and so the operation goes on
continuously. The juice ultimately obtained is diluted with about
60 per cent, of water; but it is of a comparatively pure Bacchar.ne
quality, with less gummy, nitrogenous, and fibrous impunties than
accompany the juice-yielded by mechanical means.
rffl.K. TfTjJice o^taine'd by any 'process were a V-^l^^l^°^^[^^fJ,
. cv the manufacturing operations would be few and simple But beet
t juice is at best a very mixed solution, containing much gum acid
I Todies, nitrogenous matter, and various salts, llese adhere to he
saccharine solution with the utmost obstinacy ; they attack the
sugar itself and change crystalline into invert sugar, communicat-
inlto it a dirty browS colour and a disagreeable acrid taste and
Lell To separate as far as possible the non - saccharine con-
stituents and to remove the colour from the juice are troublesome
tasks The preliminary purification embraces two sets otopera-
'tions,-first t^e treatment of the juice with lime and carbonic acid
^secondly, filtration through animal charcoal. Under the old
method of working the juice is first boiled in a copper pan with
milk of lime to the extent of from J to 1 per cent, of lime to the
weight of juice operated on. The boi ing serves to coagulate
the albuminoids, while the lime forms with certain of the other
impurities an insoluble precipitate, and in part combines with the
su^r to form a soluble saccharate of lime. The insoluble lime
combination and the coagulum rise as a scum OYer_ the surface of
the juice, and the latter, now comparatively clear, is drawn off by
a siphon pipe, to be treated in another vessel with carbonic acid
The acid breaks up the saccharate of lime and forms insoluble
carbonate of lime, which in precipitating carries down further
impurities with it. After settlement^ the clear juice is draw^ off
and the precipitated slime pressed in a filter press, whereby it
rives up the juice it contains. As now commonly conducted these
Sperations-treating with lime and carbc.nic acid-are combined
'according to the method devised by JeUnek. The juice to be
purified is heated and treated with as much as 5 per cent, of lime,
'^hile carbonic acid is simultaneously injected into the mass. The
juice meantime is raised to a temperature just under boilmg-point
.^So addition of such a large amount of lime effects the precipitation
of a great proportion of the non-saccharine constituents of the juice
The whole mass of turbid liquid formed by this treatment is forced
into a filter press, and there the lime compounds and impurities are
■separated with great rapidity from the saccharine juice. Numerous
other methods of purification have been proposed and to some
extent have met with favourable reception ; but of these we can
only mention that of Dubn.nfaut and Do Massy, m which baryta
is Bubstitiited for lime, thereby producing an insoluble barium
saccharate, and the analogous process of Scheibler, m which strontia
is employed in the same sense, producing likewise msoluble strontia
saccharate The juice, which still contains much saline and other
non-saccharine matter, is next filtered through animal charcoal ;
this largely removes colouring matter and carries away a further
proportion of the salts. Charcoal filtering is an expensive process ;
being, moreover, a feature of the subsequent /ofining, many
attempts have been made to dispense with it, and the success of
• the Jelinek method in producing a comparatively pure and colour-
less juice has given rise to hopes that it may at this stage be yet
dispensed with. . lz •>
Tho next operation consists in concenh'atmg the comparatively
pure but thin and watery juice,— a work formerly done in open
pans by ditect firing, but now carried out in closed vessels, in winch
the vac\ium nan principle of boiling is brought into play. J ho
apparatus consists of a series of three closed vessels, hence cal ed
a ''triple effect," although in some cases a two-vessel apparatus
or double effect is employed. These pans are provided internally
with a series of closed pipes for steam-heating, tho steam Irom the
boiler of the first passing by a pipe into the worm of the second
and simUarly the steam from the second into tho worm of the third-
when a third pan is employed. The steam which nscs in the third
pan is drawn off by a condenser and vacuum pump, and, as the
Vacuum so created acts through the whole series, the juico is
dvaporated and concentrated at a comparatively low temperature
by tho agency of the steam supplied to the first pan. The juic«
increases in gravity as it is drawn from the one pan to the other,
till by the time it is ruu oif from tlie third cylinder it has attained
a concentration representing a gravity of about 25 Baume. Thi^
concentrated juice is while in a heated condition filtered througli
fresh charcoal, from which it comes ready for boiling do\vn tO|
crystallisation. To bring the dense juice to the crystallizing point
it is necessary to conduct the evaporation at the lowest possibla
temperature. High temperature increases the uncrystallizable at
the expense of the crystalli2able portion, and bums some proportion
into caramel, which darkens the liquid and tho resulting sugal
crystals. Boiling down at low temperature is effected by the use
of the vacuum pan, a closed globular vessel in which by the aid ol
a condenser and air-pump a vacuum is maintained over the boiling
juice and the boiling-point is lowered in proportion to the decrease
of air pressure. In vacuum pan boiling the thick juice may simply
be concentrated to that degree of density from which, on cooling,
the ci-j'stals will form, or the crystals may be allowed to separate
from the mother-liquor in the pan while the boiling proceeds;
these crystals, forming nuclei, increase in size from the concentra-
tion of fresh charges of juice added from time to time. By this
method the boiled-down juice as it leaves the pan consists of a
grainy mass of crystals floating in a fluid syrup. After being Separa
allowed to cool, the mass is fed into the dram or basket of a cen- tion ol
trifu^al machine, which by its rapid rotation separates the fluid crystals
molasses from the crystals, driving the liquid portion through the from
meshed wall of the basket. For further cleaning of the crystals molssseW
from adherent syrup a small quantity of either water or pure syrup ji^
is added to the drum, and is likewise forced through the sugar
crystals by centrifugal action. Steam also is employed for cleaning
the crystals whilst in the centrifugal machine. The syrup from
the first supply of sugar is returned to the vacuum pan, agais
boiled, and treated as above for a second supply of less pure sugar;
similariy a third supply is yielded by the drainings of the second.
The molasses from the third supply is a highly impure mixture ol
crystallizable and invert sugar, potash, and other salts, smelling
and tasting powerfully of its beet origin. Many methods hare
been tried to recover the large amount of sugar contained in thia
molasses. That most extensively employed is the osmose process
originated by Dubrunfaut, in which, by the application of a dialyser,
it is found that the salts pass through the membrane more rapidly
than does sugar. The elution process of Scheibler, which depends
on the formation of a saccharate of^ lime, and the more recent
strontia process of the same chemist, in which a strontiate of lima
is formed, are also much employed. Another means of utilizing
the molasses consists in fermenting and distilling from it an im-
pure spirit for industrial purposes. , . ,.„ ^, .^, v,,J,l„^
Sugar-BcJinmg.— Sugs.T-re&neTs deal indifferently with raw cane SenBlng.
and beetroot sugars which come into the market, and by precisely
the same series of operations. The sugar is first melted in charges
of 5 or 6 tons in blow-^tps,— cast-iron tanks fitted with mechanical
stirrers and steam-pipes for heating the water. The solution called
liquor is brought to a certain degree of gravity, from 2j to 33
Baum^ and formerly it was the practice to treat it, especially when
low quaUties of sugar were operated on, with blood albumen. The
hot liquor is next passed through twilled cotton bags encased in a
meshing o£, hemp, through which the solution is mechanically
strained. From 50 to 200 of these filters are suspended in close
chambers, in which they are kept hot, from the bottom of a per-
forated iron tank, each perforation having under it a bag. Ihesa
bags have from time to time to be taken off for cleaning out and
w^hing. From the bag filter the liquor is passed for decoloming
through beds of animal charcoal enclosed in cisterns to a depth
of from 30 to 50 feet, tho sugar being received into tanks for con-
centration in the vacuum pan. In that apparatiis it is boiled to
grain " and tho treatment is varied according to the nature of the
finished sugar to be made. To make loaves small crystals only
are formed in the pan, and tho granular magma is run '°to*team.
jacketed open pans and raised to a temperature of about 180 to 190
Fahr which Luefies the grains. The hot solution is then cast
bi^o co^cal moulds, tho form of the loaf, in-wluci the s"gar » it
cools crystallizes into a solid mass, still surrounded »";? J^'^f '"'^
a syrup containing coloured and other imnur.ties. After tiiorough
settUng and crystallization, a plug at tte bottom of th« mould
is opened and tho syrup allowed to drain awaj'. To whiten the
oaves they are treated with successive doses of ^'turated yrup
ending with a syrup of pure colouriess sugar. These doses aro
Touref on the up^er'sidco'f the cone, and, P-olating do^ t^rou^Jj
the porous mass tarry with them the impure greon sy™? J '''^^'^^
may adhere to the crystals. The liquor which oh'tmately rem^n.
in the interstices is driven out by suction or ccntrU^^l action
tho loaf is rounded off, papered and P'"^'-! '" * »'Zldl s^P
The syrup which drains from the loaves is sold f J l^"* J^^P;
men reLed crystals are to be made the contenU of tho vacuum
pan aro passed into the centrifugal 'V»^'"°.V' / .itl,^ L ad lin«
driven orf by rotation, and the crysUls punfied "thor by adding
Pe sy?up to the revolving basket or byfeloNving .team through It.
628
S U G — S U G
There are numerous modified and subsidiary processes connected
■with refining, as well as with all branches of the sugar industry,
regarding which it is not possible here to enter into detail. The
industry is esseutially progressive and subject to many changes.
; Sorghum Suc.vk. — The stem of the Guinea corn or sorghum
(Sorghum saccharahim) has long been knoivn in China as a source
lof sugar, and the possibility of cultivating it as a rival to the
Isugar-cane and beetroot has attracted much attention in America.
The sorghum is hardier than the sugar-cane ; it comes to maturity
fin a season ; and it retains its maximum surar content a cousider-
lable time, giving opportunity for leisurely harvesting. The sugar
lis obtained by the same method as cane sugar. The cultivation of
sorghum sugar has not found much favour in the United States ;
«be total yield from that source in 1SS5 did not exceed 600,000 lb.
JIaple Sugar. — The sap of the rock or sugar maple, Acer sac-
'charinum, a large tree growing in the United States and Canada,
'yields a local supply of sugar, which also occasionally finds its way
into commerce. The sap is collected in spring, just before the
foliage develops, and is procured by making a notch or boring a
liole in the stem of the tree about 3 feet from the ground. A tree
jnay yield 3 gallons of juice a day and continue flowing for sbc
jveeks ; but on an average only about 4 tb of sugar are obtained
from each tree, 4 to 6 gallons of sap giving 1 tb of sugar. The sap
Is purified and concentrated in a simple manner, the whole work
being carried on by fanners, who themselves use much of the pro-
fluct for domestic and culinary purposes. The total production of
the United States ranges from 30,000,000 to 50,000,000 lb, prin-
cipally obtained in Vermont, New York, Ohio, and Pennsylvania,
In Canada also a considerable quantity of maple sugar is collected
for domestic use.
Palm Palm Sugar. — That which comes into the European market as
saga;'; piggery or khaur is obtained from the sap of several palms, the
rild date {Phanix sylveslris), the Palmyra (Borassu$ Jlahdliformis),
the cocoa-nut (Cocos micifera), the gomuti (Arenga saccharifera),
and others. The principal source is Phcenix sylveslris, which is
'cultivated in a portion of the Ganges valley to the north of Cal-
cutta. The trees are ready to yield sap when five years old ; at
ieight years they are mature, and continue to give an annual supply
[till they reach thirty years. The collection of the sap (toddy)
pegins about the end of October and continues, during the cool
season, till the middle of February. The sap is drawn off from
"the upper growing portion of the stem, and altogether an average
jtree will run in a season 350 lb of toddy, from which about 35 lb
lof raw sugar — jaggery — is made by simple and rude processes.
Jaggery production is entirely in native hands, and the greater
'part of the amount made is consumed locally : it only occasionally
reaches the European market.
Btarcb Starch Sugar. — This, known in commerce as glucose or grape
engar sugar, an abundant constituent of sweet fruits, &c. (see p. 623 above),
is artificially elaborated on an extensive scale from starch. The
industry is most largely developed in Germany, where potato starch
is the raw material, and in the United States, Indian corn starch
ibeing there employed. The starch is acted on by a weak solution
of sulphuric acid, whereby soluble starch is formed, which ulti-
mately results in a mixture of glucose and dextrose in varying
Proportions, constituting the starch sugar of commerce. The
operations embrace the boiling of the starch with water containing
the requisite proportion of acid, the neutralization of the acid with
lime, and the formation of a precipitate of sulphate of lime, which
is separated by filtration in a filter press. The filtered liquid is,
when necessary, deprived of colour by passing it through a bed of
animal charcoal, and then it is concentrated to a density of from
40 to 45 Baurae in a vacuum pan. If the resulting syrup contains
little dextrin it will on cooling slowly solidify into a granular con-
cretionary mass ; but if ranch dextrin is present it remains in the
condition of a syrup. Starch sugar is very largely used by brewers
and distillers, and by liqueur makers, confectioners, and others
for making fruit and other syrups. Burnt to caramel, it is also
employed to colour beverages and food substances. As an adul-
terant it is largely employed in the honey trade and for mixing
^ith the more valuable cane sugar. In 1885 there were about
pfty factories in Germany engaged in starch . sugar making, in
which 10,000 tons of hard sugar, 20,000 tons of syrup, and 1250
lous of "colour" were made;
Commerce.
■ At-the present time, judging by the amount sent to the market,
cane and beet sugars are produced in about equal amount ; but,
since vast quantities of cane sugar are giown and consumed in
India, China, and other Eastern countries of which we get no
account, there cannot be a doubt that the annual production of
cane far exceeds that of beet sugar. Still, as a growth of not' more
than forty years, the dimensions to which fhe beet sugar trade has
attained are certainly remarkable. But these dimensions would
not have been so suddenly attained had it not been for the system
of protection established in the producing countries and of bounties
liaiil to tl»e beet manufacturers on exporting their produce. ,The
United Kingdom is the only open maiKsr, (Or sugar, which is con-
sequently sold there at an unprecedentedly low price. The follow-
ing table shows the relative proportions of the beet and the cane
sugar trade and the principal sources of the supply for 1880-85 :— ^
1880-81.
lSSl-82.
1862-83.
1883-84.
-i
1884-85'
1. BectSD04K
German empire
Austria-Hungary ..
France
Tons.
694,223
498,082
333 614
250,000
68,026
30,000
Tons.
644,775
411,015
393,269
308,779
73,136
30.000
Tons.
848,124
473,002
423,194
284,991
82,720
35,000
Tons.
986,000
446,000
474,000
308,000
107,000
40,000
Tons.
155,000
658,000
308,000
387,000
88,000
50,000
Russia and Poland .
Holland and other
countries
Total....
2. Cake St70AB.
Cuba
1,774,545
1,860,974
2,147,031
2,361,000
2,546,000
484,000
57,100
43,600
45,000
17.000
16,800
42,000
43,000
92,300
27,100
119,000
210,500
45,000
344,600
199,000
121,900
40,000
32,000
600,300
80,000
63,400
53,000
27,000
23.000
47,800
67,000
124,200
25,000
118,000
273,000
66,000
304,400
151,500
71,400
40,000
29,000
485,000
70,000
64,000
62,000
25,000
16,000
46,800
62,000
117,000
34, Ode
116,700
283,600
87,000
218,000
211,600
135,300
31,000
21,000
660,900
65,000
59,800
66,000
20,000
23,000
49,400
65,300
126,000
37,800
120,400
311,400
60,000
359,000
123,000
128,400
25,000
30,000
627,800
60,000
65,700
60,700
18,000
20,000
38,800
41,200
96,000
37,000
128,000
380,000
45,000
269,000
203,400
94,500
35,000
40,000
Porto Rico
Trinidad
Antigua & Bt Kitt's
Martinique
Guadeloupe
Demerara
Reunion
Mauritius
Java
British India
Brazils
Manila, Cebu, Iloilo
Louisiana
Egypt
Total....
Beet and Cane..
1,979,900
2,044,000
2,056,000
2,210,400
2,260,100
3,754,445
3,904,974
4,203,031
4,571,400
4,806,100
The relative values of beet and of a low quality of raw cane sugar
for 1879-86 are shown in the following table : —
Average Price each Tear.
1879.
1880.
1881.
18S2.
1883.
1884.
1885.
1886.
Unclayed Manila (taal)
s. d.
14 8
21 3
s. d.
15 3
22 3
s. d.
15 0
22 9
s. d.
13 llj
22 0
a. d.
12 9
20 2
s. d.
10 0
14 0
s. d.
10 Oi
s. d.
Gei-manbeet; basis 88
per cent f.o.b
14 0J13 1
Average Price of the Fourteen Tears 1872 to 1885.
Unclayed Manila (taal) 14s.ll}d. percwt.
German beet; basis 88 per cent, f.o.b. 21s. 6|<!. ,,
Price, August 1886.
8s. Sd. per cwt.
lis.
(j. PA.) _
SUGAE-BIED, the English name commonly given in
the West India Islands to the various members of the
genus Certhiola (generally regarded as belonging to the
Family Ccerehidx >) from their habit of frequenting the
curing-houses where sugar is kept, apparently attracted
thither by the swarms of flies. These little birds on ac-
count of their pretty plumage and their familiarity are
usually favourites. They often come into dwelling-houses,
where they preserve great coolness, hopping gravely from
one piece of furniture to another and carefully exploring
the surrounding objects with intent to find a spider or
insect. In their figure and motions they remind a northern
naturalist of a Nuthatch, while their coloration — black,
yellow, olive, grey, and white — recalls to him a Titmouse.
They generally keep in pairs and biuld a domed but un-
tidy nest, laying therein three eggs, white blotched with
rusty-red. Apart from all this the genus presents some
points of great interest. Mr Sclater {Cat. B. Br. Museum,
xi. pp. 36-47) recognizes 18 "species," therein following
llr Ridgway {Proc. U.S. Nat. Mmeum, 1885, pp. 25-30),
of which 3 are continental with a joint range extending
from southern Mexico to Peru, Bolivia, and south-eastern
Efiazil, while the remaining 15 are peculiar to certain of
^ Known In French as Ottil-guils, a name used for them also by
some English writers. The Gtiitguit of Hernandez (Rer. Medic N.
Bisp. Thesaunis, p. 56), a name said by him to be of native origin,
can hardly be determined, though thought by MontbeUlard (Hist
Nat. Oiseaux, v.v- 529) to"be what is now known as Co^cba cmrulea,
but that of later writers is C cyanea. ITie name is probably onomato-
poetic, and very likely analogous to the " Quit " applied in Jamaica
to several small birds.
S U G — S U I
629
the Antilles, and several of them to one island only. Thus
C. caboti is limited, so far as is known, to Cozumel (off
Yucatan).' C. tricolor to Old Providence, C.flaveola (the
type of the genus) to Jamaica, and so on, while islands that
are in sight of one another are often inhabited by different
"species." Further research is required; but even now the
genus furnishes an excellent example of the effects of iso-
lation in breaking up an original form, while there is com-
paratively little differentiation among the individuals which
iahabit a large and continuous area. The non-appearance
(•f this genus in Cuba is very remarkable. (a. n.)
SUGDEN. Edward Boetenshaw. See St Leonards,
Lord.
SUHL, a manufacturing town in an isolated portion of
Prussian Saxony, is picturesquely situated on the Lauter,
on the southern slope of the Thuringian Forest, 6i miles to
the north-east of Meiningen and 29 miles to the south-
■west of Erfurt. The armoui-ers of Suhl are mentioned as
early as the 9th century, but they enjoyed their highest
vogue from 1550 to 1634. The knights of south Germany
especially prized the swords and armour of this town, and
many of the weapons used in the mediaeval campaigns
against the Turks and in the Seven Years' War are said to
have been manufactured at Suhl. Its old popular name
of the " armoury of Germany " is more appropriate, how-
ever, to its past than to its present position, for, already
seriously crippled by the ravages of the Thirty Years' War
and by frequent conflagrations, it has suffered considerably
in more modern times from the competition of other towns,
especially since the introduction of the needle-gun. It
still contains, however, large factories for firearms (military
and sporting) and side arms, besides iron-works, machine-
works, potteries, and tanneries. The once considerable
manufacture of fustian has declined. A brine spring
(Soolquelle) at the foot of the neighbouring Domberg is
said to have given name to the town. The population
ia 1880 was 9937 and 10,605 in 1885. Suhl, made a
town in 1527, belonged to the early principality of Henne-
berg, and formed part of the possessions of the kingdom
of Saxony assigned to Prussia by the congress of Vienna
SUICIDE. The phenomenon of suicide has at all times
attracted a large amount of attention from moralists and
social investigators. Though of very small dimensions,
even in the countries where it is most prevalent, its exist-
ence is rightly looked upon as a sign of the presence of
maladies' in the body politic which, whether remediable or
not, deserve careful examination. To those who look at
human affairs from a theological standpoint, suicide neces-
sarily assumes a graver aspect, being regarded, not as a
minute and rather obscure disease of the social organism,
but as an appalling sign of the tendency of man to resist
the will of God. Compare Felo de Se. As a great
number of persons are, either directly or indirectly, under
the influence of the theological bias, and as the act of
suicide is in itself of a striking character to the imagina-
tion, the importance of the phenomenon from a sociological
point of view has been to some extent exaggerated, especi-
ally in those countries of the Continent where suicides are
most numerous. Moreover, the matter has during the
last twenty years become of direct interest to the Govern-
ments of those countries where the whole able-bodied male
population are more or less under the control of a military
organization ; for, rightly or wrongly, a portion of the
recent considerable increase in the suicide rate of Prussia,
Saxony, Austria, and Franco is attributed to dislike of
military service. It may bo observed in passing that the
* In the article Birds (iii. p. 749) attention was drawn to what waa
then believed to bo a fact — namely, that the form found in this
island was identical with that which inhabits the Bahamas ; but now
the two forms are regarded as distinct.
suicide rate among soldiers is high in all countries, Great
Britain not excepted, as was shown by Jlr W. H. Millar
in the Journal of the Statistical Society, vol. xxsvii., 1874,
and more recently by Dr Ogle in the same Journal, vol.
xlix. (March), 1886. As enlistment is voluntary in the
United Kingdom, the alleged dislike to conscription can-
not be the sole cause of the high rate prevailing in some
of the Continental states. Before referring to the more
general characteristics of suicide, it will be well to furnish
some idea of its magnitude in relation to the category of
social phenomena to which it belongs, namely, death. The
following tables are constructed for this purpose. The
first (I.) gives the absolute number of cases of suicide as
officially stated in a number of countries for a series of
I, Statement of the Kfumlcr of Cases of Suicide in the Principal Coun-
tries of Europe during the undermentioned Periods and Years.
Periods.
a
o
S5
i
T3
i
B
a
183
1
i
.i
>
&_
g
II
523
t
•1836-40
214
113
272
907
1471
2574
264
1841-45
212
138
306
1642
1235
2951
189
247
340
695
1846-50
229 150
341
1696
1263
3446
18,-,
218
,373
■774
1851-55
253 < 154
402
1025
2075
160
3639
150
196
275
496
666
1850C0
211
145
446
1310
2152
213
4002
170
144
332
609
1799
1861-65
301
141
1431
1343
2247
221
14700
189
1|175
'384
601
1051
1718
1866
309
121
443
1329
2485
215
6119
189
244
410
704
1205
688
1867
371
131
469
1310
3625
365
SOU
198
270
471
752
1407
753
1868
366
130
498
1508
3658
376
5547
212
2S3
441
SOO
15C0
784
i869
356
131
402
1588
3544
257
6114
221
251
430
710
1375
633
1870
369
148
486
1554
3270
33S
4157
195
247
459
667
1510
788
1866-70
354 j 133
472
1459
3316
310
4989
203
259
442
725
739
1871
321
128
605
1495
8135
367
4490
244
238
419
653
2040
836
1872
309
132
464
1514
3457
356
6275
219
258
405
687
2194
890
1873
337
126
439
1518
3345
377
6525
216
304
447
723
2463
975
1874
394
99
439
1592
3490
374
6617
244
283
45C
723
2617
1015
1875
376
144
394
1601
3432
836
5472
226
334
469
745
2741
92S
1871-75
347
126
448
1544
S3C8
362
6256
231
294
436
706
2411
923
1876
409
142
607
1770
4443
439
5804
269
343
622
981
3376
1024
1877
430
130
530
1699
4563
47C
5878
291
324
65C
1114
3598
1139
1878
411
132
644
1764
4992
49C
6434 317
425
674
1126
3486
1158
1879
438
141
505
2035
4881
653
6496 309
380
75C
1121
3469
122S
1880
384
124
496
1979
6034
691
6638
338
371
682
1171
3649
1261
1876-80
414
134
616
1849
47S4
609
6250
305
369
656
1103
3516
1161
1881
3S4
123
495
1955
6159
650
0741
306
348
695
1248
3504
1313
1882
482
136
605
1965
5312
695
7213
283
724
1128
3530
1389
1883
470
134
613
1962
6337
699
7267
341
1206
3595
1458
1884
431
2043
6013
•-
3783
1881-84
442
1981
6205 ! ...
3603
11. statement of the Jistimated Population of the undermentioned
Countries in the Years 1S6S, 1876, and 1SS2 ; the Number of
deaths frovi Suicide and other Causes in the same Years in the
sam^ Countries ; and l/ie Provortions lorne by the Deaths to the
PopukUUm in each case.''
-1868.
Countries.
Estimatod
Population
In tlie
Middle of
the Year.
Deaths.
Number of
Dcatlis per
1,000,000
Inhabitants.
'3
« 3
°3
Total.
'o
CO
03
TotaL
Austria
20,026,554
1,453,9393
4,750,000<
4,961,644
1,748,000
88,329,617
25,434,376
24,069,379
2,453,556
4,173,080
21,948,713
6,405,014
8,27£r,350
1980
212
441
376
493
6547
784
3658
800
366
1503
67
123
669,566
39,677
168,559
107,180
33,318
916,491
776,440
655,070
71,918
87,441
479,114
66,098
69,293
671,652 99
89,889 146
159,0008 93
28,401
28,600
Baden
27,284
33,377
27,430
33,470
Belgium
107,556
33,816
922,038
777,224
658,728
72,718
87,807
480,622
86,185
69,416
75
285
145
31
153
325
88
69
10
21.625 21,700
19,015 19,300
23,955 S4,10O
Italy
Prussia
30,669
27,248
29,316
20,912
21,731
15,784
30,600
27,400
29,640
21.000
21,800
15,f00
United Kingdom—
EncIaDd and Wales
Scotland
87,21,103
21,200
168,090,121
16,386
4,060,165
4,066,661
104 26,«S6
25,740
1 Uncertain data. ' Stlllblrtli.s are eieludcd.
" Adding naturol Increase of 1808 to population of 1867 (KnW \
« Estimate, deductuiK natural Increase of 18691870 from IlKure In cental oi
1871. • 169,180 Including allU-blithi.
630
SUICIDE
years. Table II. (A, B, C) refers to three separate years
and shows the number of cases of suicide relatively to all
the deaths and to the population for certain countries.
The totals for the countries in question are also given.
Table I. is obtained from Morselli (Table I.) with the addi-
tion of figures that have been published since his work
appeared.^ Table HI. gives the figures relating to three
States of the American Union which have published statis-
tics on the subject.
II. B.— 1876.
Countries.
Estimated
Population
in the
Middle ot
the Tear.
Deaths.
m
Austria
Badeu
Bavaria
Belgium
Denmark
France
Italy
Prussia
Saxony
Sweden
United Kingdom-
England and Wales
Ireland
Scotland
21,319,544 1
1,507,17921
6,022,390
6,336,185 I
:,S93,100 ,
36,905,788 |
27,625,825 I
25,021,667 i
2,600,0003;
4,429,713
24,370,267
6,277,544
3,552,183
2433
269
522
439
506
6604
1024
3917
SSI
409
1770
111
131
OA
631,925
40,054
153,674
116,348
36.859
828,270
795,398
656,469
77,140
85,925
508,545
92,213
73,993
Total.
634,363
40,323
154,196
116,787
37,365
834,074
796,420
660,386
73,121
86,334
510,315 73
92,324 20
74,129 37
Kumber of
Deaths per
1,000,000
Inhabitants.
Total
20,827
17,279
20,863
29,800
I6,760|
30,700i
21,900
19,700
22,600
28,800l
25,500|
27,900
19,600
20,900
17,300
20,900
II. C— 1882.
Countries.
Austria
Baden
Bavaria
Belgium
Denmark
France
Italy
Prussia
Saxony
Sweden
United Kingdom-
England and Wales
Ireland
Scotland
Estimated
Population
in the
Middle of
the Year.
22,316,567
1,596,206
5,389,732
6,655,197
2,008,100
37,769,000
28,696,512
27,796,189
3,040,000
4,579,115
26,413,861
5,097,853
3,785,400
Deaths.
CO
3530
283
724
695
613
7213
1889
5312
1128
482
1965
105
167
683,421
38,654
152,428
113,703
38,225
831,326
785,937
694,979
85,106
78,924
614,689
88,395
72,822
686,951
38,937
153,152
114,298
3S,7S3
838,539
787,326
700,291
86,234
"9,406
516,654
88,500
72,989
174,043,732 23,40614,178,609 4,202,015 134 21,9S6|24,120
Number of
Deaths per
1,000,000
Inhabitants.
ro
Total.
158 30,
177 24,
134
105
255
191
49
191
371
105
642'30,800
,223:24,400
,276'2S,410
,095;20,200
,045! 19. 300
00922,200
,451 127,500
,009 25,200
,999 28,370
,295 17,400
74 19,526|19,600
21 17,37917,400
44 19,256,19,300
III. Statemeni of the Number of Deaths by Suicide in the under-
mentioned States of the American Union in the JTears named,
with their Proportion to the Population.
Tears.
Massachusetts.
Rhode Island.
Connecticut.
Total.
Per
1,000,000
Inhabit-
ants.*
Total.
Per
1,000,000
Inhabit-
ants.4
Total.
Per
1,000,000
Inhabit-
ants.4
1670
1671
1872
1873
1674
1875
1676
1877
1878
1S79
IfSO
1881
1882
1883
1884
91
122
117
117
115
159
119
163
125
161
133
165
162
167
184
62
62
76
74
71
96
98
70
94
75
88
88
89
96
27
19
18
8
18
26
18
22
21
13
10
23
31
25
85
124
84
77
33
72
101
69
63
78
48
36
82
109
19
>2
)5
>8
13
)9
55
83
84
83
95
77
109
101
1 The figures for Austria up to 1871, although collected by the official re-
gistrar, are far from trustworthy. Since 1873 more reliable data have been
obtained by the sanitary service. The registrar's figures for 1871 and 1672
have been corrected by Dr Neumann-Spallart ; those for the succeeding years
are the figures of the sanitary service. A comparison of the returns from the
two official sources shows that the figures of the latter authority are (except in
two cases) 30 per cent, greater than the corresponding figures furnished by
the former. 3 ist December 1875. 3 2,760,586 in 1875.
4 Population calculated from average annual increase since 1880.
The first feature which appears prominently in connexion
with these tables is, as already observed, the small absolute
amount of suicide officially reported. There is, however,
a general consensus of opinion among those who have
made a special study of this branch of vital statistics, to
the efi'ect that the number of suicides which actually occur
is rather greater than is shown by the official returns. Thia
opinion is based on the known natural repugnance on the
part of those concerned to make a declaration that any
person found dead committed suicide if his death can be
accounted for in any other way. Continental statisticians
think that this tendency to " give the benefit of the doubt "
in cases of apparent suicide in the manner least likely to
give pain to the relatives and friends of the deceased is
more strongly operative in England than in other countries,!
— an opinion which may be fairly considered doubtful when
we bear in mind the remarkable difference between the two
sets of official figures for Austria. It is not, however, main-
tained that the number of suicides is much understated,
even in England, at any rate of late years. It may be
observed that the information on the subject in any country
cannot be much relied upon for years previous to 1850, at
the earliest, and previous to 1860 for the United Kingdom.
Perhaps an exception may be made in favour of the figures
for Norway and Sweden. Differences in the mode of de-
termining cases of supposed suicide in different countries
make it necessary to be very careful in preparing " inter-
national " statistics of suicide. The remarks made by Dr
Ogle in the paper already referred to are worth careful
attention. He says : " I have been tempted to compare
the English figures with those of foreign countries. I have,
however, rigidly abstained from doing so. Those who have
read the laborious treatise of Morselli on. suicide, and have
noted how heterogeneous in form and how unequal in
numerical efficiency were the materials from different coun-
tries with which he was forced to be content, will, I think,
agree with me that it is at present more essential that
statisticians should look to the accuracy and sufficiency of
the returns of their own several countries than that they
should indulge in premature comparison." The tables
given above are not conceived in a spirit contrary to these
judicious observations, but are merely intended to supply
indications of the general nature of the phenomenon as met
with in different countries. Those who wish to inquire
more fully into the matter will find all the available infor-
mation in the works of Morselli and Legoyt.
It is quite admissible, subject to the above reservations^
to point out briefly, and if possible to explain, the leading
features brought into relief by the tables. It will be seen
that from 1868 to 1876 suicide increased in aU countries
for which returns were available in both years, not merely
in number, but relatively (except Denmark, Prussia, and
Scotland) to the population, and the figures for the years
subsequent to 1876 do not show any improvement in this
respect. It will also be observed that the figures for the
United Kingdom and Italy are low, those for Austria,
Bavaria, Belgium, and Sweden moderate, those for Prussia,
Baden, and France high, and those for Saxony and Den-
mark very high. Attempts have been made to account
for these differences by considerations derived from (1) race,
(2) climate, (3) density of population, and other circum-
stances ; but it cannot be said that any satisfactory result
has been obtained from these investigations, owing no
doubt to the fact that the phenomenon is too minute to
furnish numbers large enough for the proper application
of the statistical method. Investigations into certain other
points have been more successful, such as the relative pro-
portions of the two sexes as regards number of suicides,
the relation of the number of suicides to the age scale (see
Popdt^tion) of the population, and also the distribution
S U I — S U I
631
of the cases of suicide over the months of the year, ilost
valuable inquiries have also been made into the distribu-
tion of suicides with regard to occupation, with results
■which appear to show that suicide is more prevalent amoijgi
the educated than among the illiterate classes. For the
anicidal tendency in insanity, see vol. xiii. pp. 105-6.
Sex.— It will have been observed that, apart from fluctuations in
particular years, the various countries maintain fairly constant re-
lations to one another as regards number of suicides. The series of
uumbers in Table I. is fairly regular, in each country usually in-
creasing as the population "increases, but in several cases faster.
The proportion of femalo to male suicides is also fairly constant,
so far as experience has hitherto gone. Broadly speaking, female
suicides are never less than 15 per cent, and never more than 30
of the average annual number of suicides in any country. In
England the proportion is high, having during the period 18C3-76
averaged 26 per cent. In France the rate is nearly as higli, though
it appears to have been decreasing of late. In Prussia and most
German states the rate is under 20 per cent. For further details
reference may be made to Morselli, and for England and Wales to
Dr Ogle's paper already mentioned.
Age. — The influence of age on suicide shows considerable regu-
laiity in each country from year to year, and a certain degree of
similarity in its ellects is perceptible in all countries. Morselli
gives a number of tables and diagrams, a study of which indicates
s variety of interesting features. The observations already made
as to the minuteness of the whole phenomenon in relation to the
social organism must be particularly borne in mind in drawing
conclusions from investigations which involve the breaking up of
numbers already small into parts. It is true that, by adding to-
gether the corresponding figures for a series of years, fairly large
Bumbers may be obtained, even for those parts of the age scale
which, in auy single year, yield -only one or two cases of suicide,
or even occasionally none. But this mode of obtaining an enlarged
image of the age scale of suicide must be employed with caution,
since there may have been changes in the tendency to suicide, in
the age scale, and in the occupations of the people during the period.
Dr Ogle has prepared a table (IV.) which gives as correct a repre-
sentation of the effect of age on suicide in England and Wales as
it is possible to furnish. The age scale of suicide in question is
also fairly representative of the corresponding age scales of other
countriesjthoughin each country slight variations from the tj'pical
scal» are apparent at different parts of it.
IV. Average Annual Suicides in England and Wales at successive
Age Periods per million Lives, 1S3S-S3 (Ogle).
Age.
Rates per Million.
Age.
R-ites per Million.
Persons.
Males.
Females.
Persons.
Males.
Females.
10
15
20
25
85
45
4
2S
47
09
116
184
4
26
82
99
1-5
271
3
30
34
43
62
103
65
66
75
86
All ages
251
213
183
116
396
306
226
119
113
85
46
72
104
41
It will be seen that,~talung both sexes together, the suicide rate
rises steadily and rapidly after the tenth year has been passed,
attaining its maximum in the period fifty-five to sixty-five years,
after which it remains almost stationary for another ten years,
when it sinks rapidly. Although no figures are given for any
period previous to the tenth year, Dr Ogle mentions that there
were actually four cases of suicide of children between the ages of
five and ten during the twenty-six years observed. Child suicide
is apparently of more frequent occurrence on the Continent than
in the British Isles. It is important to notice that the ago scale
of suicide for women is materially different from that for men. If
represented by a diagram its curve makes a smaller angle with the
base line than the corresponding curve of male suicide. As might
be expected from the fact that females beconio fully developed,
both in mind and body, at, an earlier period of life than males, the
suicide rate for women is relatively very high during the years
fifteen to twenty, being in England and several other countries
actually higher than that for nuMi. Comparison between dilTcreut
countines in this respect is diflScult, but the figures given by
Morselli (Table xxvi. in liLs work) show that during the period in
•question the number of femalo suicides increases with great rapidity
in all countries. Regarding the suicide of young persons of both
sexes, Dr Ogle observes that it is higher than is generally supposed.
*' Few,." ho says, " would imagine tliat one out of every 119 young
raon who reach the age of 20 dies ultimately by his own hand ; yet
^uch Ls the case." According to Dr Ogle's figures, 1 out of every
^12 girls who reach the age of 15 ultimately dies by her own
band.
Influence of Occupation. — The difficulty of investigating the mode
<n which the suicide rate is affected by differences of occupation is
considerable. Dr Ogle has with great labour worked out the figures
for males for the six years l'87S-83 in England and Wales. He
obtained about 9000 cases of the suicide of persons with knowa
occupations ; these he compared with the statement $i occujmtions
obtained from the census of 1881, taking account of the very con-
siderable variety in the average age of the persons in each occupa-
tion. This precaution was necessary in an attempt to ascertain
whether the persons engaged in any pa"ticular occupation were
more liable to suicide than tliose in other occupations, for the effect
due to the occupation would in some cases be entirely obliterated
by the effect due to age. The general result of his labours ' was
that the rate for soldiers is enormously in excess of that for any
other occupation. It is followed at a considerable distance by inn-
keepers and other persons having constant access to alcohol, — a
fact which certainly suggests that an excessive use of spirits is one
of^the principal causes of suicide. But another reason lor the hi"li
rate among soldiers is certainly the fact that they have a ready
and effective means of destruction constantly at hand. In like
manner the high rate of suicide among medical men, chemists, and
druggists may be attributed in part to their familiarity with poisons.
Hardly any other general inferences can be dran;n without entering
ou matters of conjecture, except that, excluding the case of clergy-
men, the rate of those occupations which involve no serious bodilyj
labour is higher than that observed in persons who work chiefly
wfith their hands. It is impossible to make any satisfactory com-
parison in this respect between England and Wales and other coun-
tries, as the divisions of occupations in different countries aro not
on the same plan. It would be very advantageous if some approach
to a common list of occupations could be adopted by all states ; buj
there is little prospect of that being realized for some time to come.
It is, however, satisfactorily established that in all countries the
suicide rate is higher for the educated than for the uneducated
classes.
Season. — May and June aro in most countries the months in
which most suicides occur ; but in some countries, such as Bavaria
and Saxony, the maximum is in July. The difference between the
warm and cold portions of the year is more marked in female
suicides than in male suicides, especially in Italy. This is probably
due to the fact that women show a tendency to adopt drowning
as a mode of killing themselves, and that there is more shrinking
from a plunge into water in cold than in warm weather. The fact
that the maximum number of suicides occurs in the hot season,
during which, according to Morselli and other Continental statis-
ticians, insanity is more frequent than in the cool portions of the
year, has been alleged as a reason for the high suicide rate in May,
June, and July.
Modes of Suicide. — The favourite mode of suicide in England ia
among men hanging and among women drowning, — about one-
third of the suicides of each sex being effected in these modes
respectively (Morselli, Table xlv. ). In Italy, however, the most
common mode is by gunshot among men, and after that by drown-
ing, hanging being less usual. A very large number of Italian women
drown themselves, the i^roportion being in some years over 50 per
cent, of the total. In Prussia considerably over one-half the male
suicides hang themselves, and women also make use of the rope more
than in England. The use of poison is more common among
English women than among those of Italy and Prussia. Dr Ogle
observes that women take less care than men to select painless
poisons, nearly 50 per cent, of female suicides by poison in
England during the years 1863-82 being effected by means of
strychnia, vermin killer, carbolic acid, and oxalic acid, while 60
per cent, of the men employed prussic acid, laudanum, and other
comparatively painless poisons. Dr Ogle, Morselli, and other
writers have investigated the connexion between the choice of
means and the age of suicide. Dr Ogle has also compiled a valuable
table relating to method of male suicide in relation to occupation.
The whole subject has been treated exh-iusKvely by .Morselli in his II .-iidndia,
Saggio tli Slalistka Morale Comparala, Slil.ili, 1879 (Eng. trans., .Suiculr: C»a|
ore Coviparatllc Moral Statistics, London, ISSl). Refereneo may al«o be made
to A. Lcgoyfa U Huicidr. AncieiietModenc, Paris, 1S81. Tins volume contAliia
much interesting historical matter, but is inferior as a statistical work to that
of Morselli. It contains, however, a useful bibliography of works on suicide.
Official /ji/orma(io?i.— Accurate information regarding suicide h-ls for manf
years been given for all the countries of which mention has been made abon
in tlie publications of their respective Governments. For other countries tka
available statistics arc meagre, accurate ligures having in many cases only
recently been obtained from Finland, Switzerland, Holland, Hungary, Cix>atia,
Spain, and three or four of tlie States of the American Union. There are uo
figures for the whole United States, and none of value for airjr other countriea.
buch statisttcfl as are in existence for these countries will bo found in Confrimti
Internalioiuili pcrgli Anni 1S65.S3 (Home, 1884), published by the Italian OonoiaJ
Statistical Department. (W. HO.)
SUIDAS, the author of a Greek lexicon. His personal
life is totally unkno^vn and even his date is uncertain.
He must have lived before Eustathius (12th century),
who quotes him repeatedly. Under the beading "Adam"
the author of the lexicon gives a brief chronology of fl»«
• See Stat Jour., March 1888, p. 112.
632
S U L — S U L
world, endiog with the death of the emperor John Zimisces.
Under " Constantinople " are mentioned the emperors
Basil and Constantine, who succeeded John Zimisces in
975. It ■would thiis appear that Suidas lived in the
latter part of the 10th century. The passages in -which
Michael Psellus (who lived at the end of the 11th century)
are referred to are thought by Kiister to be later interpola-
tions; one of them is wanting in the Paris MSS. The
lexicon of Suidas is arranged alphabetically, with some
slight deviations from the strict alphabetical order. It
partakes of the nature of a dictionary and encyclopedia,
containing not only definitions of words but also short
articles on historical, biographical, geographical, and anti-
quarian subjects. It includes numerous quotations from
ancient writers ; the scholiast on Aristophanes in particu-
lar is much used. Although the work is uncritical and
the value of the articles very unequal, it contains a great
deal of important information on ancient history and
life. It deals vdih Scriptural as well as pagan subjects,
from which we infer that the writer was a Christian.
Prefixed to the work is a notice stating " the present book
is by Suidas, but its arrangement is the work of twelve
learned men," and then follow their names.
The first edition of Suidas was that by Demetrius Chalcondylas
(Milan, 1499), the next by Aldus (Venice, 1514). The chief later
editions are those by L. Kiister (Cambridge, 1705), by T. GaisforJ
(0.xford,-1834), and by G. Bernhardy (Halle, 1834-1853). There
is a cheap and convenient edition by Im. Bekker (Berlin, 1854).
SULLA (138-78 b.c). The life of Lucius CorneUus
Sulla makes one of the most important chapters in Roman
history. Both as a general and as a politician he stands in
the foremost rank of the remarkable figures of all time.
It was by his ability and his force of character that Sulla,
who had neither great wealth nor noble ancestry ^ to back
him up, pushed himself to the front in early manhood,
distinguishing himself in the Jugurthine War in 107
and 106, and being able with a good show of reason to
claim the credit of having terminated that troublesome
war by capturing Jugurtha himself. In these African
campaigns Sulla showed that he knew how to win the
hearts and confidence of his soldiers, and through his
whole subsequent career the secret of his brilliant successes
seems to have beeij the enthusiastic devotion of his troops,
whom he continued to hold well in hand, while he let them
indulge themselves in plundering and in all manner of
licence. " Rome's soldiers from Sulla's time," says Sallust
{Cat, 11), "began to drink, to make love, to have a tast9
for works of art, to rob temples, and to confound things
sacred and profane." From the year 10 1 to 101 he served
again under Marius in the war with the Cunbri and
Teutones and fought in the last great battle near Verona,
which annihilated the barbarian host. Marius, it is said,
was jealous of him, and any friendly feeling there may
have hitherto been between the two now finally ceased.
Sulla on his return to Rome lived quietly for some years
and took no part in politics. What with his genuine love
of letters and his love of gay company he was never at a
loss for amusement, and he must always have been a
particular favourite with fashionable society at Rome. In
93 he was elected prsetor after a lavish squandering of
money, and he delighted the populace with an exhibition
of a hundred lions from Africa, from the realm of King
Bocchus. Next year (92) he went to the East with special
authority from the senate to put pressure on the famous
Mithradates of Pontus, and make him give back Cappadocia
to its petty prince Ariobarzanes, one of Rome's dependants
in Asia, whom he had driven out. Sulla with a small
army soon won a victory over the general of Mithradates,
and Rome's client-king was restored. An embassy from
' He belonged to quite a minor branch of the Cornelian gens.
the Parthians now came to solicit the honour of alliance
with Rome, and Sulla was the first Roman who held
diplomatic intercourse with that remote people. In the
year 91, which brought with it the imminent prospect
of revolution and of sweeping political change, with the
enfranchisement of the Italian peoples, Sulla returned to
Rome, and it was generally felt that he was the man to
head the conservative and aristocratic party. Who was
to have the command in the Mithradatic War and be en-
trusted with the settlement of the East was the question
of the day, and the choice lay plainly between Marius
and Sulla. The rivalry between the two men and their
partisans was as bitter as it could possibly be. Marius
was old, but he had by no means lost his prestige with the
popular party.
Meanwhile Mithradates and the East were forgotten in
the crisis of the Social or Italic War, which broke out in
91 and threatened Rome's very existence. The services of"
both Marius and Sulla were needed, and were given ; but
SuLla was the more successfvd, or, at any rate, the more for-
tunate. Of the Italian peoples Rome's old foes the Sam-
nites were the most formidable ; these Svilla thoroughly
vanquished, and took their chief town, Bovianmn. But
his victories were, after aU, followed by the concession
of the franchise to the Italian towns and communities
generally, though an arrangement which made them vote
in separate tribes greatly diminished their political power
and became a further sovu-ce of irritation. It was clear
that Rome was on the eve of yet further troubles and
revolutionary changes. Her armies, now recruited from
the very scum of the population, had not the loyal and
honourable spirit of former days, and cared only for
licence and plunder. On every side it seemed that public
life was demoralized and politics degraded. In 88 Sulla
was consul ; the revolt of Italy was at an end ; and again
the question came to the front — who was to go to the East
and encounter the warlike king of Pontus, against whom
war had been declared. The tribune Publius Sulpicius
Rufus moved that Marius should have the command ;
therp was fearful rioting and bloodshed at Rome at the
prompting of the popular leaders, Sulla narrowly escaping-
to his legions in Campania, whence he marched on Rome,
being the first Roman who eptered the city at the head of
a Roman army. Marius now had to fly ; and he and his
party were crushed for the time.
Sulla, leaving things quiet at Rome, quitted Italy in 87
for the East, taking Greece on his way, and for the next
four years he was winning victory after victory against the
armies of Mithradates and accumulating boundless plunder.
Athens, the headquarters of the Mithradatic cause, was
taken and sacked in 86, and Sulla possessed himself of a
library which contained Aristotle's works. In the same
year at Chaeroneia, the scene of Philip of Macedon's memor-
able -yictory more than two and a half centuries before, and
in the year following, at the neighbouring Orchomenus,
he scattered like chaflF, -with hardly any loss to himself,
immense hosts of the enemy. Crossing the Hellespont in
84 into Asia, he was joined by the troops of Fimbria, who
soon deserted their general, a man sent out by the Marian
party, now again in the ascendant at Rome. The same
year peace was concluded with Mithradates on condition
that he should resign all his recent conquests, give up all
claim ■ to meddle with Rome's Asiatic dependencies, and
pay a considerable indemnity. "In fact the king was to
be put back to the position he held before the war ; but,
as he raised cavils and Sulla's soldiers wanted better
terms and more spoil, he had in the end to content him-
self -with being on the same footing as the other princes of
Asia, — simply a vassal of Rome.
Sulla returned to Italy in 83, landing at Brundusiiun,
S U L — S U L
633
having previously informed the senate in an official de-
spatch of the result of his campaigns in Greece and Asia,
and announced his presence on Italian ground. He com-
plained, too,- of the ill-treatment to which hi3 friends and
partisans had been subjected during his absence. The
revolutionary party, specially represented by Cinna, Carbo,
and the younger Marius, had massacred them wholesale,
confiscated his property, and declared him a public enemy.
They felt they must resist him to the death, and with
numerous bodies of troops scattered throughout Italy, and
the support of the newly enfranchised Italians, to whom
it was understood that Sulla was bitterly hostile, they
counted confidently on success, but on Sulla's advance at
the head of his 40,000 veterans many of them lost heart
and deserted their leaders, while for the most part the
Italians themselves, whom he confirmed in the possession
of their new privileges, were won over to his side. Only
the Samnites, who were as yet without the Roman fran-
chise, remained his enemies, and it seer^ed as if the old
war between Rome and Samnium had to be fought once
again. Several Roman nobles, among them Cneius Pom-
peius (Pompey the Great), Metellus Pius, Marcus Crassus,
Marcus Lucullus, joined Sulla, and in the following year
(62) he won a decisive victory over the younger Marius
near Prseneste (Palestrina), and then marched straight
upon Rome, where again, just before his defeat of Marius,
there had been a great massacre of his adherents, in which
the famous and learned jurist Mucins Scasvola perished.
Rome was at the same time in extreme peril from the
advance of a Samnite army, and was barely saved by
Sulla, who, after a bloody and very hard-fought battle,
routed the enemy before the walls of Rome. With the
death of the younger Marius, who killed himself after
the surrender of Praeneste to one of Sulla's officers, the
civil war was at an end and Sulla was master of Rome
and of the Roman world. Then came, with the object of
breaking the neck of the 'Marian or popular party, the
memorable "proscription," when for the first time in Roman
history a list of men declared to be outlaws and public
enemies was exhibited in the forum, and a reign of terror —
a succession of wholesale murders and confiscations through-
out Rome and Italy — made the name of Sulla for ever
infamous. The title of "dictator" -.vas revived aftgr a long
period and conferred upon him ; Sulla was in fact einperor
of Rome, with absolute power over the life and fortunes
of every Roman citizen. There were of course among
them some really honest well-meaning men who looked
up to him as the " saviour of society." After celebrating
a splendid triumph for the Mithradatic War, and assum-
ing the surname of "Felix" ("Epaphroditus," "Venus's
favourite," he styled himself in addressing Greeks), he
carried in 80 and 79 his great political reforms (see Rome,
vol XX. pp. 761-7G2). Of these the main object was
to invest the senate, the thinned ranks of which he
had recruited with a number of his own creatures, with
full control over the state, over every magistrate and every
province, and the mainstay of his political system was to
be the military colonies which he had established with
grants of land throughout every part of Italy, to the injury
and ruin of the old Italian freeholders and farmers, who
from this time dwindled away, leaving whole districts
waste and desolate. Sulla's work had none of the
elements of permanence ; it was a mere stop-gap purchased
at the cost of infinite misery and demoralization.
In 79 Sulla resigned his dictatorship and retired to
Puteoli, where he died in the following year, probably
from the bursting of a blood-vessel, though there is a
story that he fell a victim to a particularly loathsome
disease similar to that which cut off one of the Hcrods
tActs xii. 23). The half lion, half fox. as hia enemies
called him, the " Don Juan of politics," to quote Momm-
sen's happy phrase, the man who carried out a policy of
" blood and iron " with a grim humour, amused himself in
his last days with actors and actresses, with dabbling in
poetry, and completing the Memoirs of his strange and
eventful life.
For Sulla and his times, there is his Life by Plutarch, who had
his Memoirs for one of his authorities, and there are very numerous
references to him iu Cicero's writings. The best and fullest
modern account of him is that of Mommsen (vol. iii, bk. iv. ch.
8, 9). (W. J. B.)
SULLY, Maximilian dk BfonuNE, Ddke of (1560-
IG41), French statesman, was born at the chateau of Rosny
near Mantes on 1 3th December 1560. He derived his early
appellation and the title of baron from the place of his birth,
and was known as Rosny during the greater part of his life.
Some one of his numerous enemies pretended that he did
not really belong to the illustrious family represented four
centuries earlier by the trouvfere and warrior Queues de
B6thune, but that his race was derived frorii Scottish
Bethunes of no mark. There is, however, no reason for giv-
ing any credit to this story. Sully was a second son ; hia
elder brother died when but just of age, and even before this
his father (if his own account may be trusted) treated Maxi-
mUian (so he himself spelt his name, and not Maximilien)
as an eldest son. He was only eleven years old when his
father, who was a Protestant, was presented to Henry of
Navarre, and from that time he was more or less inseparably
attached to the future king of France. He had a narrow
escape on St Bartholomew's Day, but he did escape, and
when little more than sixteen began to take an active part
in the Civil Wars. He distinguished himself not a little,
especially in the character of engineer. In 1583 he married
Anne de Courtenay, who, however, died in 1589, and in
the intervals of war he lived the life of a country gentle-
man at Rosny. At the battle of Ivry, 1590, he had the
good luck, though seriously wounded, to capture Mayenne'a
standard. As soon as Henry's power was established,
Sully, who, though by no means always a complaisant or
obliging servant, had been uniformly faithful, received his
reward in the shape of numerous places, estates, and
dignities. In 1601 he was made grand-master of the
ordnance and in 1606 duke of SuUy. He was also practi-
cally the king's minister of finance during the greater part
of his reign. After the assassination of his master ha
makes no further figure in history, though he survived for
many years, saw the rise of a far greater minister than
himself, and did not die till (less than a year before Riche-
lieu himself died) the 22d of December 1641. at Villebon
near Chartres.
He had married a second time, and anecdote is not compliment-
ary to his second wife, while his daughter, who married the great
duke of Rohan, also had a not unblemished reputation. Sully,
however, who, though deprived of (and indeed resigning) all con-
trol of public affairs after Henry's death, retained great wealth,
lived in wliat was almost a caricature of the stately fashions of th«
time, and busied himself iu the composition of memoirs which ar«
among the most curious in form, and not the least interesting ia
contents, of the kind. He instructed his secretaries to draw th»
book up in the form of an elaborate address to himself: "you then
did this"; " you said as follows " ; " as you have been good enough
to inform us, the affair went on this wise" ; and so forth. And
ho not only had the book executed in this extraordinary fashion
but had it read out to him. Its title is as odd as other thin^
about it and runs thus : Mimoires dcs Sages et Royales (EcorwmiU
d'Kstat, domisliques, pohtiques, el militaircs de Uenry le Orand,
I'Excmplaire des Roys, le Prince dcs Vcrtus, des Armes, et des Loia,
el le Fire en effet de ses Peuples Francois. Et dts servitude* utiles,
obiissances convenables, el administrations !o;/akji de ifaximiluxn dt
Bilhune, tun des plus confidans, familiers, et utiles soldals el servi-
tcurs du graiui Mars des Fran(;ois. Dedicis d la Franc*, A tous la
hons soldals, el tous peuples Franfois. Two folio volumes were
splendidly printed, nominally at Amsterdam, but really under
Sully's own eye at his chateau, in 1634 ; the other two did not
appear till twenty years uftcr his dcatU As bis wealth, his Im-
634
S U L — S U L
perious and grumbling temper, the favour which he had enjoyed
and his subsequent loss of it, joined to attract odium, his character
and his hook were rather roughly handled in his lifetime. Mar-
bault, secretary to Du Plessis-JIornay, Sully's chief rival, wrote a
very caustic criticism of the Memoirs, from which, though it re-
mained in MS. till the 19th century, Tallemant des Keaux, the
insatiable scandal-monger, compiled a not unamusing but distinctly
calumnious article on Sully. Most of the stories it contains, may
be unhesitatingly disbelieved. At the same time Sully was by no
means the ideally wise and good minister that he has not unfre-
quently been represented as being. He was as faithful as a dog,
and as surly. He grasped wealth and place to an extent not quite
compatible with the idea of pure devotion to his king or his country,
and cis jealousy of all other ministers and all other favourites was
extravagant and unceasing. Still there is no doubt that he was
an excellent man of business, that, if not exactly what would be
now called an incorruptible minister,he made no gains not sanctioned
by the customs of the time, that he was inexorable in interfering
with peculation and malversation on the part of others, that he
opposed the ruinous personal expenditure which was the bane of
almost all European monarchies in his day, and that he did much
both as a man of war and as a man of peace to make France strong,
united, and happy. His literary power, moreover, was far from
small. Although the fantastic form of his Mctnoirs, after being
diverting for a time, grows not a little wearisome, they have phrases
and passages of gr-eat vivacity, which it is reasonable to attribute
to Sully himself rather than to his spokesmen, and they show much
grasp of administrative business.
The airangement of the Memoirs so shocked the ISth century that in 17-15
the iVot de I'ficluse re-editod or rather re\vTOte them in the ordinary form of
narrative. Tliia text lias of course no interest; the proper version with the
commL^ntary of Warbault -may be found in the collection of Micbaud and
Poojoulat (vols. xvi. and x^-ii.).
SULMONA, or Solmona, a city of Italy, in the province
of Aquila (Abruzzo Ulteriore), now reached by a branch
line from the railway between Pescara and Aquila, lies, at
a height of 1575 feet above the sea, at the junction of the
Vella with the Gizio (a tributary of the Pescara), which
supplies water-power to its paper-mills, f ulling-ndlLs, copper-
works, &c. Besides its cathedral (8. Panfilo), rebuilt by
Bishop Walther of Ocre (Frederick II. 's grand chancellor)
in 1119, and several times remodelled in the 15th and 16th
centuries, Sulmona has in Santa Maria deUa Tomba a good
example of pure Gothic, and in Corpus Domini a striking
instance of the vagaries of Gothic in its decay. The com-
munal buildings are half Gothic, half Eenaissance. A
statue of 0\id, the most celebrated native of the city
(which also gavj birth to Innocent VIL), stands in front
of the cancellaria. In the vicinity of the town is Monte
Morrone, where Celestine V. lived as a hermit and founded
a monastery of " Celestines," which remained till 1870,
when it was transformed into a penitentiary. The popu-
lation of Sulmona was 12,59-1 in 1861 and 14,171 in 1881
^commune, 17,601).
Sulmo, a city of the Peligni, is first mentioned during the Second
Pimic War (2il B.C.). It became a Roman colony probably in the
reign of Augustus, and as a municipiam it continued to flourish
throughout the empire. Charles V. erected it into a principality,
which he bestowed on Charles Lannoy of "Pavia" celebrity. It
ultimately passed to the Corno and Borghese families. The bishopric
is known as that of Yalva and Sulmona.
SULPHUR.! The sulphur minerals, which are very
numerous and varied, arrange themselves under three
heads, — (1) metallic sulphates, of which hydrated sulphate
of lime, CaSO^.SHoO, gypsum, is the most abundant;
(2) metallic sulphides, a numerous family, including the
majority of metallic ores, of which, however, only iron
pyrites serves as 'a source for sulphur; (3) elementary
iulphur. In the organic world we meet with sulphur
everywhere, this element forming an essential (though
quantitatively subordinate) component of the albumenoids,
a class of compounds contained in all vegetable and animal
structures. Of organic materials rich in sulphur we may
name animal hair (containing about 4 per cent.) and the
essential oils of the onion, garlic, and mustard.
' This chemical element has already been treated in its scientific
aspects under Chemistbt (vol. v. p. 498 sq.). The present article is
intended to supplement what is there given, in the direction chiefly
of practical applications.
Elementary Sulphur.
This occurs as a mineral chiefly in the Upper Miocene
deposits and in the Flotz, associated in general with
gypsum, massive limestone, and marl. Commercially im-
portant deposits are found in Sicily (provinces of Caltanis-
setta, Girgenti, Catania), Italy (Latera and Scrofano, pro- I
vince of Rome), Spain (Teruel and Arcos), France (dept. I
Vaucluse), Transylvania, Poland (Swoszowice near Cracow),
and Germany (Liineburg, in Hanover). The exhalations
of volcanoes include, as a rule, sulphurous acid, SO2, and
sulphuretted hydrogen, H„S, which two gases, if moist,'
readily decompose each other into water and sulphur, — a
circumstance which accounts for the constant occurrence
of sulphur in all volcanic districts, ilt Purace in Colombia
wears a cap of sulphur (derived from its own crater) which
accumulates at the rate of about 2 feet per annum, —
its superficial area amounting to 1435 square yards. The
solfatara at Bahara Saphinque on the Red Sea is said to
yield 600 tons of stilphur annually. The molten sulphur
discharged from the crater of the Alaghez in the Armenian
highlands forms solid excrescences, which the natives dis-
lodge from their inaccessible positions by means of rifle-
shots. ' A sulphur deposit near the Borax Lake in California
is estimated to contain 20,000 tons. Most of the sulphur Sicilha
or brimstone of commerce comes from the rich fields of sulphur,
Sicily, where in 1884 the annual production had almost
reached 400,000 tons. The mode of mining there adopted
is by a network of horizontal galleries (tunnels) driven
through the deposit ; the solid squares thus marked oflf
are hewn out, a central pillar being left to support the
roof. The total excavation is generally 100 feet high and
from 25 to 50 wide ; not unfrequently the whole coUapses.
Down to a comparatively recent date all the work used to
be done by hand, boys of eight to ten years of age being
employed to carry the ore to the shaft and thence to the
surface ; only where a mine has reached a depth of 325
feet or more is water-power, if available, resorted to.
Since 1868, however, the ore at Grotta Calda at least has
been raised by properly constructed shafts with the help of
steam-power, and this system is spreading.
The Sicilian ores are customarily classified as follows : —
Per 300 parts" of ore Per 100 parts of ore
Sulphur present. Sulphur recovered.
Richest ores £0-10 20-25
Rich ores 25-30 15-20
Ordinary 20-25 10-15
The poor yield of actual sulphur is explained by the rather primi-
tive method used for its extraction. A semicircular or semi-'
elliptical pit (calcaronc) about 33 feet in diameter and 8 deep is
dug into the slope of a hill, and the sides are coated with a wall
of stone. The sole consists of two halves slanting against each
other, the line of intersection forming a descending gutter which
runs to the outlet. This outlet having been closed by small stones
and sulphate of lime cement, the pit is filled mth sulphur ore,
which is heaped up considerably beyond the edge of the pit and
covered with a layer of burnt-out ore. In building up the heap a
number of narrow vertical passages are left to afford a draught for
the fire. The ore is kindled from above and the fire so regulated
(by making or unmaking air-holes in the covering) that, by the
heat produced by the combustion of the least sufficient quantity
of sulphur, the rest is liquefied. The molten sulphur accumulates
on the sole, whence it is from time to time run out into a square
stone receptacle, from which it is ladled into damp poplar-wood
moulds and so brought into the shape of truncated cones weighing
110 to 130 lb each. These cakes are sent out into commerce. A
calcarone with a capacity of 23,256 cubic feet burns for about two
months, and yields about 200 tons of sulphur. The immense
volumes of sulphurous acid evolved give rise to many complaints ;
all the minor pits suspend work during the summei: to avoid de-
struction of the crops. A calcarone that is to be used all the year
round must be at least 220 yards from any inhabited place and 110
from any field imder cultivation.
The yield of sulphur, as seen from the table given above, is miser-
ably small, but the scarcity of fuel in Sicily almost prohibits the
introduction of any more rational method. As sulphur fuses at
114° C, high-pressure steam at once suggests itself as a suitable
medium of heating. In the sulphur-works of Latera, in thrr pro-
vince of Rome, the following apparatus (constructed by Gritti) is
SULPHUR
635
fceinff used with success. A Tcrtical truncated perfova ed cone of
ttkk sheet-iron serves for the recenlion of the ore. This cone is
SclosedTn a similar cone of iron, ^vilich terminates in a detachable
^ep iron h^sin below, and is provided with a t.ght y htting lid.
ill'lh^ joints in this outer shell are steam-t.ght The inner cone
^vin 'been charged and the lid secured, steam of sutficient pressure
to ens°ure a tcmpeiuture of from 125° to 135° C. 's blown into he
apparatus, which soon causes the sulphur to melt and collect m the
basin below. After from 30 to 50 minutes, reckoning from the time
■when the above temperature is reached, the operation is completed.
The steam is then turned off and the sulpdur made to run from
the basin into a receptacle beside the apparatus, to be cast into
sticks or cakes. The iron basin is then ietached, and by turning
Tside an iron damper which held the ore m its place the exhausted
ore is made to drop into a pit. Each charge of ore amounts to
about from 2i\ to 26.i cwts.\ containing about 385 lb of sulphur.
Of tliis some 360 lb are recovered as saleable sulphur, at tne ex-
'pen-se of about 286 lb of o:\k-wood as fuel. , t, i,
K. E. BoUmann in 1867 proposed to extract the sulphur by
, means of bisulphide of carbon. The process, after having been
tried at Bagnoli near Naples and given up as hope ess, was mtro-
'duced in 1873 in Swoszowlce near Cracow under the guidance ot
■Winkler and has proved a success. The apparatus is constructed
so that the bisulphide used in the process ot extraction is recovered
'by distiUation ; the loss of bisulphide amounts only to one-lialt
per cent., sometimes to less, and the sulphur produced is very pure
Br cent., somcnmca lu luoa, aim i."= m^j,..^-- ^",. . „ " ' • ,
liut by far the greater part of the purer qualities of commercuil
■ TOlphnr is produced from Sicilian calcarone sulphur by distUlation
which removes the 3 per cent, or so of earthy impurities contained
in it. The following apparatus (invented originally by Micliel ot
MarseiUes and improved subsequently by others) enables the manu-
^ fcctm-er to produce .either of two forms of " reBned sulphur which
commerce demands. It consists of a stone-built chamber of about
2825 cubic feet capacity, which communicates directly mth two
lalightly slauting tubular retorts of iron, each of which holds about
'660 lb of sulphur. The retorts are charged with molten sulphur
iiom an upper reservoir, which is kept at the requisite temperature
by means of the lost heat of the retort fires. The chamber has a
safety valve at the top of its vault, which is so balanced that the
least surplus pressure from within sends it up. The first puli ol
sulphur vapour which enters the chamber takes fire and converts
the air of the chamber into a mixture of nitrogen and sulphurous
acid The next following instalments of vapour, getting diHused
throughout a large mass of relatively cold gas, condense into a kind
of "snow," known in commerce and valued as "flowers of sulphur
(dores sidphuris). By conducting' the distillation slowly, so that
tie temperature within the chamber remains at a sufficiently low
decree, it is possible to obtain the whole of the product in the form
'of '■ flowers." If compact ( " roll ") sulphur is wanted the distilla-
tion is made to go on at the quickest admissible rate. The tempera-
ture of the interior of the chamber soon rises to more than the
fusing-point of sulphur (114° C), and the distillate accumulates at
the bottom as a liquid, which is tapped olf from time to time to be
'cast into the customary form of rods of about 1 J inches diameter.
\ In some places sulphur is extracted from iron pyntes by one of
'two methods. The pyrites is subjected to dry distillation from
'out of iron or fire-clay tubular retorts at a bright red heat One-
'thlrd of the sulphur is volatilized-3FeS2= FcjSi -I- S„— and obtamed
Us a distillate. The second method is analogous to the calcarone
method of liquation : the ore is placed in a lime-kiln-like furnace
over a mass of kindled fuel to start a partial combustion of the
Imineral, and the process is so regulated that, by the heat generated
'the unburnt part is decomposed with elimination of sulphur, which
'collects in the molten state on an inverted roof-shaped sole Ijclow
I the furnace and is thence conducted into a cistern. Such pyrites
sulphur is usually contaminated with arsenic, and consequently is
of less value than Sicilian sulphur, which is characteristically tree
Illk of"' ^™The\'ub"rnc"'known as "milk of sulphur" (Jac pdphuris) is
uwhut. very finely divided sulphur produced by the following, or seme
.' analogous; chemical process. One part of quicklime is slaked by
meant of 6 parts of water, and the paste produced diluted with
24 parts of water ; 2-3 parts of flowers of sulphur are added ; and
the whole is boiled for about an hour or longer, when the sulphur
dissolves,- „^^^ _^ ^2S = 2CaS, + CaS.O^.
The mixed solution of pentasulphide and thiosulphato of caJcium
thus produced is clarified, diluted more largely in a tub, and then
mixed with enough of pure dUute hydrochloric acid to Foduco a
feebly alkaUne mixture ; this shows that only Uie l^;'lk of the
ientiulphide is decomposed,-CaS5-H2nCl = CaC,-f 11,3-^43 of
'precipitated sulphur). The addition of more ac.d would produce
la additional sipply of sulphur (by the action of the Il.SPa on
the dissolved H,S); but this thiosulphato sulphur is yellow and
compact, while the CaS, part has the desired quahties forming aa
extremely fine, almost white, powder. The precipiUto is washed,
coUeoted. and dried at a very modeiate heat. It is used as a I
medicine. If sulphuric acid is used instead of hydrochloric acid
the prepar.ition is apt to bo contaminated with hydrated sulphate
of lime. In the United Kingdom, indeed, precipitated sulphate of
lime used to be added intentionally to produce what the public
had got accustomed to • but th^s pracUce has been rightly stopped
by the authorities. ,,.,-,
During the year 1875 the production of sulphur lu Europe is
stated to have been as follows :—
loos.
Itaw 360,000
Spam ■•■•■ JirjJ
German empireTineiu<Ung 5000 tons' of Vegenerate^^ M-MO
Belgium • ^
Total 3S2,"00
By far the greater part of all the sulphur produced in Sicily and
elsewhere is used for the manufacture of sulphuric acid. Subjoined
is an enumeration of some other appUcations. (1) The manufacture
of gunpowder (see vol. xi. p. 320). (2) The taking of casts. (3)'
The making of cements : (a) a mixture of molten sulphur and ferno.
oxide is used to cement the isolating bells to telegraph posts ; (6)
a mLxture of iron filings (100), flowers of sulphur (3 to 20), and
sal-ammoniac (3 to 5) made into paste with water is used to cement
•ron bars (fences, &c.) into stone sockets ; (c) a mixture of molten'
sulphur with powdered quartz or glass has been recommended a»i
an acid-proof material for sulphuric acid chambers ; (d) a mixture,
produced by the incorporation of powdered quartz and colourmK
matters, such as vermilion, &c., mth molten sulphur is emploved
for ornamental articles. (4) The vulcanization of india-rubber (see
vol. xli. p. 840 sq.). (5) Dusting vine-plants with flowers of sul-
phur is said to keep Q« the fungus Oidium Tuckeri, which has
caused such devastation in the vineyards in France and elsewhere.
Sulphur Compounds.
Sulphuretted hydrogen, H„S (see Chemistkt, vol. j. p. 499j?.), Sulphnrl
is used largely as such, or as sulphide of ammonium, (IsH4).S etted
= 2NH,4-H„S for the detection, discrimination, and separation ot hydro-
metals To "give an example : the least quantity of lead dissolved gen.
in water as (siy) nitrate can be detected by the addition of sulphur-
etted hydrogen, which brings down the lead as a black precipitate
of sulphide oflead,-Pb(N03),-l-H,S = PbS + 2HN03. The presence
of a moderate quantity of mineral acid in the original solution does
not interfere with the test. What we said of solution of salts of
load holds substantially of those of the following groups of metals.
The formulas and the colours of the sulphides are given m brackets.
A Lead (black, PbS), silver (black, AgnS), mercury as mercurous
or mercuric salt (black, HgS-fHg or HgS respectively), copper
(greenish black, CuS), bismuth (brown, Bi^.S^) cadmium (yellow,
CdSl B. Arsenic (yellow, As„S3), antimony (orange-red, bb^bj),
tin as stannic salt (yellow, SnS,). The sulphides A are insoluble ;
the sulphides B are soluble in sulphide of ammoniuni solution, and
the latter, from this solution, can be reprecipitatcd by acidification
with dilute sulphuric or hydrochloric acid. The brown SnS pre-
cipitated from stannous salts is insoluble in the (colourless) solution
of (NH.),S, but soluble in the yellow solution of the polysulpliide
(NHji !^ Sn&,. C. The following metals are not precipitated
fi'om the\r salt solutions if these are acidified sufficiently by added
mineral acid; but they are precipitated from their neutral or
alkaline solutions by sulphide of ammonium :-iron (black l-ot>),.
nickel (black, NiS), cobalt (black, CoS), manganese (flesh-coloured.)
MnS), zinc (white, ZnS). Aluminium and chromium, given ra,
alts of their oxides, K,03, are precipitated by sulphide of anmionium,
as hydrated oxides (AlA -^'H A colourless ; fcrP^-.-^HA green
or violetl. The reagent acts on these as ammonia, NH3, t le H3SI
bein" liberated, and behaves in a similar way to acid solutions of-
certain salts c a., the phosphates, of the foUowilig group D, these,
a ts !r Ca3p56 , being precipitated as such. The ordinary sa te,
of group D(bar'ium, strontium, calcium, magnesuim), and the salts
0 fie rika i metals E (potassium, sodium, &c.) genera ly g. vo n»
prec Pitate with either sulphuretted hydrogen or su pl.ule of am-l
Lon urn It is easy to translate what wo have stated into a mo hod-
for the separation of gi-oups A, B, C (D and E), from one anoU or.
Of the three chloriclcs treated of in Chkmistuy (vol. v. p. 501 1
only the lowest, SXU, is of industrial imnortance. t is prepa ed
bvpassfng perfectly dry chlorine gas overlieatcd sulplmr conU.ned,
i,ra'r:ror?,'the reto'rt b'eing connected V\\" -"^^^"^X'd. n 'y'l
so that the uncondensed vapours aio led a,yay into the dumuiy-l
The two elements unite readily, and chloride of ^ P''"/' ^^'«M
distils over, contaminated, however, by more or less of surplus^
cWo no preaentas higher' chlorides. Jo -"'«['', -.,f^<;':::;!'Xl
these the crude product is subjected to f----"^""""'^',^ ''.'•: "1139?
thermometer rises rapidly and .soon b'-'^o"'"^,'''^.^" i'''^'';'" j ti^'
Tsee aoBiuM, " U Ulanc process for making soUa ast," 1-. •.•«3 .hgve.
636
SULPHUR
■ leristic and unpleasant. Chloride of sulphur is decomposed by
water, alcohol, ether (see Chemistry) ; and benzol and bisulphide
of carbon mix with it in all proportions without decomposition.
A mixture of 100 parts of bisulphide of carbon and some 2-5 of
chloride of sulphur is used for the vulcanization of (chiefly sheet)
india-rubber. The mixture is readily imbibed by the rubber, which
when allowed to dry (at from 22° to 25° C.) gives up the bisulphide
of carbon and the chlorine of the reagent, the latter as HCl, but
retains its sulphur in a state of chemical combination.
The gas SO2 (See Chemistry, vol. v. p. 501), produced extempore
by the combustion of sulphur, is used for the bleaching of sUk,
wool, straw, ind wicker work, also for the disinfection of rooms
and of wine-c»sks (to prevent acetous fermentation). A solution
of the gas in water is manufactured industrially, for use chieSy in
the manufacture of sugar. It is added to the beetroot or cane juice
to prevent its fermentation while awaiting concentration. A
solution of "bisulphite of lime" (produced by saturating mUk of
lime with sulphurous acid gas) is much used as an antiseptic
generally. Liquefied sulphur dioxide has found an application as
a frigorific for the manufacture of ice. The apparatus used is so
constructed that the volatilized sulphur dioxide is all caught and
recondensed. Sulphurous acid when required as such or for the
'making of sulphites is always produced, even industrially, from oil
(of vitriol, by reduction with either sulphur or charcoal. In the
heat the reactions are 2S03 + S = 3SO„ and 2S03 + C = C02 + 2S02
respectively, and either can be (and is) executed practically in cast-
iron vessels. The presence of carbonic acid in the gas produced by
the charcoal process does not interfere with the preparation of
. sulphites.
Thiosul The soda salt NajSnOj -I- SHoO, known commercially as hypo-
phates. ;sulphite of soda, is'used industrially for chiefly two purposes,
'namely, (1) as a solvent for chloride of sDver in photography (so
Photography),— AgClH-Na„S A = NaCl-hAgKaS„03. —and (2) as
an "antichlor" in paper-making, to destroy the remnants of chlo-
rine in bleached paper pulp. To understand its action we need
only know that chlorine and water in such cases act like oxygen,—
CLi-hH20 = 2HCl + 0 ; every 4x0 thus produced converts one
S3O2 of Na^OSoOo into 2SO3 of sulphuric acid. For the preparation
of this salt a great many methods have been invented. The simplest
to explain is the treatment of a solution of normal sulphite of
sodium with sulphur, — SOjNa^ -f S = SjOjNa,. Instead of adding free
sulphur, Liebig prepares a solution of polysulphide of sodium (by
' dissolving sulphur in caustic-soda ley) and adds it to the sulphite.
The surplus sulphur combines with the sulphite ; besides, the poly-
sulphide contains thiosulphate from the first. Another method is
to pass sulphurous acid through a solution of sulphide of sodium.
Here, by first intention, if we may say so, sulphite of sodium and
H„S are produced ; but the 11,8 and the excess of SO; give water
and sulphur, and two-thirds of this sulphur unite with the sulphite
first formed into thiosulphate. The crude sulphide of calcium,
which is produced so largely in the Le Blanc process (see Sodium,
supra, p. 243), when exposed to the air gets oxidized, with forma-
tion of calcium thiosulpnate, which can be extracted by means of
water and converted into sodium salt by double decomposition
with carbonate or sulphate of soda. Pure thiosulphate of soda
forms large transparent monoclinic prisms, which lose no water on
exposure to ordinary air in the cold. At about 48° C. they fuse into
a liquid, which may remain liquid on cooling, but solidifies sud-
denly when a fragment of the solid salt is dropped in. 100 parts
of water dissolve
at 16° 25° 35° 45° C.
65 75 89 109 parts of the salt (Mulder).
Tlie solution is not subject to oxidation in the air.
6ul- The anhydride SOj is Used largely in the manvfactnre of tar
phuric colours. Oil of vitriol is decomposed by dropping it on a mass of
»cirl. platinum scrap kept at a bright red heat within a fireclay retort,
— S04H5 = H20-l-S02-f JOj ; and, after removing the water — the
bulk by- partial condensation and the rest by means of vitriol — the
sulphur dioxide and the oxygen are made to recombine by passing
them over platinized asbestos at a dull red heat. The fumes of
SO3 formed are condensed in a dry receiver by application of cold
from without (Winkler's process).
The fact that finely divided platinum, in virtue of its power of
condensing oxygen, induces the union of SO2 and JOo into SO3 has
been known for a long time ; but all attempts to utilize the reaction
for the production of sulphuric acid from a mixture of sulphur
dioxide, air, and nitrogen produced by the combustion of sulphur
or pyrites in air have failed. The platinum acts too feebly in the
presence of the unavoidably large mass of nitrogen, and soon loses
its efficacy altogether owing to the accumulation on it of particles
of incombustible matter fiom the kiln gases. Oxide of chromium,
Cr203, and oxide of iron, Fe.Os, act like platinum, through transi-
tory formation of the respective sulphates — the gases produced in
pyrites kilns include a considerable- quantity of ready-made SO3
— but they also are not available practically for the making of sul-
phuric acid. In short, all attempts to produce this reagent other-
wise than by means of the old Nordhausen or the chamber process
have so far been unqualified failures industrially. In regard to the
chamber process we may add a few notes to what has been s&M
under Chemistry (vol. v. p. 503 sq.). As stated in that articl^t
nitrous acid, N2O3, when brought into contact with sufficiently,
strong vitriol unites with it, giving rise to bodies similar to chamber
crystals,-
N203-I-H„0 + 2S03=2S0.
OH
^N02
,N0,
or, what comes practically to the same,
N0O3 + S03(out of the vitriol) = SOj^tq'
In the presence of sufficient water this union does not take placr^-
because the water causes the product to break up as shown by the
equation if read from right to left. These facts explain why a
stronger acid than one containing some 60 per cent, or so of real
H2SO4 cannot be produced directly in the chamber. This incon-
venience has led, in the hands of Gay-Lussac, to an important
improvement on the original process. He inserts between the
chamber outlet and the chimney a tower made of acid-proof stone
and filled ■with pieces of coke, over whioii concentrated oil of vitriol
is made to trickle down while the chamber gases ascend through'
the tower on their way to the chimney. The vitriol absorbs all or'
most of the NoOj, which would otherwise be lost. But the practical
reliberation of the N2O3 was beset with very great difficulties, whicl»
have been fully overcome only by a more recent invention of Glover's/
He places between the kiln and the entrance side of the chamber a
tower similar in construction to Gay-Lussac's, which the kiln gases
have to traverse before they get into the latter. Through the tower
he runs at the same time a stream of nitrated (Gay-Lussac) acid)
and one of ordinary chamber acid. The latter acts on the nitrated!
acid as water ; at least it virtually sets free the combined nitrous
acid, so that it is reduced by the sulphurous acid coming from the
kiln to nitric oxide, which travels into the chamber with the rest of
the gases to do duty there in the well-known manner. As the kiln
gases are very hot, a considerable quantity of the water which goes
through a Glover tower (as chamber acid) is volatilized and thus
made to supply part of the steam necessary for the process. The
Glover tower, besides fulfilling its primary object, serves to concen-
trate part of the chamber acid and to supply part of the neces-
sary steam without expense for fuel. The expenditure of nitrate
of soda, which before the introduetion of the two towers used to
amount to from 8 to 13 parts per 100 of sulphur burned, has been
reduced to from 3'5 to 6'5. The actual loss of nitrous acid of course
is the less, casterispariius, the larger the chamber, and (for a given
chamber) the greater the care with which the process is conducted.
But even under the most skilful management more nitrous acid is
lost than can be accounted for by the unavoidable imperfections in
the apparatus and in the mode of working them. From the in-
vestigations of Weber and of Fremy it appears that, in the presence
of reladvely much water more especially, part of the nitrous acid
sufiers reduction, not, to nitric, but to nitrous oxide, N2O, which-
being unsusceptible of direct oxidation, is lost for the process.
For a great many purposes {e.g., the manufacture of " superphos- Produo
phate " from bones or mineral phosphate of lime) the 60 to 64 per tion 0/
cent, acid which comes out of the chamber can be used as it is ; strong
but it is not strong enough for all purposes. In the production of pcid.
stronger (from chamber) acid the first step always is to run the
acid into long, very shallow lead pans and to simply boil it down
in these, either hy the application of heat from below, in which case
the bottoms of the pans must be protected by making them rest on
plates of iron, or by enclosing the pans in a vault and causing the
hot gases of a furnace fire to strike along the surface of the acid.
The result in either case is that, while more and more water goes
away as steam, the residual acid of course gets sti'onger and stronger.
But with the strength the boiling-point rises, and, as necessary
consequences, the extent to which the acid attacks the lead (with
formariou of sulphate and sulphurous acid) and the danger of melt-
ing down the pans by local overheating become greater and gi'eater.
When the acid has come up to about from 78 to 80 per cent,
(corresponding to a specific gravity of 1'7 after cooling), it is not
safe to push the concentration any further, quite apart from the
fact that an acid of 80 per cent, when boiled down emits a very
appreciable proportion of acid along with the volatilized water.
An acid of 17 indeed is amply strong enough for a variety of
applications, such as, for instance, the conversion of salt into sul-
phate. If a stronger acid is wanted the concentration must be
continued in glass or platinum retorts.
The vitriol maker's glass retort, as a rule, consists of two detach-'
able parts, namely, a pear-shaped body about 3J feet high and
nearly 2 feet in diameter, and a glass alembic whose wider end fits
the mouth of the pear, while its narrower outlet end points down-
wards-and terminates within a slightly slanting lead-pipe, which
conveys the distillate to a, leaden tank. The retort rests on a
layer of sand contained in a closely fitting iron basin, and the
lateral space between the two is filled completely with sand. The
iron basin is suspended ^yithin a furnace in such a way tkat only
it, and not any part of the retort, is touched directly by the flame.
As' a rule, some twelve retorts stand side by side, each in its own
S U L — S U M
637
.andbath, and are heated by the same fire. As the temperature of
the boUins liquid and of the vapour rises at the end to beyond
sSo" C a sudden draught of cold air might cause rupture of a
Mtort -'the apparatus is therefore placed in a special room accessible
milv through double doors, and the inner door is not permitted to
^ oDened before the outer has been shut. The acid as it is boil-
ine down, gets stronger and stronger, because, although the vapour
is very strongly acid from the first, its percentage p of real HjSa
«t anv given stage is less than the value/), which obtains in the
boUing liquid as it is at the time, p' at a given barometric pres-
sure i?a fi-xed function of p only, and increases as ^ increases ; the
difference » - »' accordingly gets less and less. It becomes nil, not
when the acid has become pure H^SO,, but when it has come up
to the composition 12S03 + 13HsO (Marignac). This particular
hydrate only boils without change of composition ; even pure HjbUi
when distilled, by giving up more than ISO, for IHjO becomes
reduced to that hydrate I2SO3 + I3HO, which then boils without
further change of composition. A stronger acid than ' Marignac,
as we may call it, cannot be produced by the concentration of weaker
acid, and even its production (from 1-7 acid) involves a very con-
siderable loss of acid as distiUate. Hence practicaUy the process is
stopped when the acid in the retorts has cqme up to some 96 per cent.
of H.>SOj, which is ascertained by the specific gravity of the last
runnin<^ being at a certain value. As soon as this point is reached
the retorts are allowed to cool till the contents cau be withdrawn
with safety by means of lead siphons into glass carboys. This,
however, means a considerable loss of time and fuel ; besides, the
process of distUling from out of glass vessels is not free from danger,
and for these reasons it is preferred in many establishments to con-
eentrate the pan acid in large platinum stills, although these are
extremely expensive. The great advantage of the platinum still is
that it admits of continuous working ; while pan acid (containing
say 1 lb of water per A'' lb of full strength— 96 per cent, or so— acid)
runs in, and a far weaker acid (containing for the same period of
time 1 lb of water and n lb of full strength acid) is distilling over,
the balance A^-n lb of finished acid is being withdrawn by means
of a platinum siphon. The outer limb of the siphon in its middle
portion divides into a system of four naiTower tubes and is cooled
down by means of a cold-water jacket surrounding it, so that the
acid can be run directly into carboys.
matinom The platinum retort in its latest form has a large undulating
Vetort. bottom made of strong metal, on which a rapidly converging low
body joins, made of thinner metal because it is not so directly ex-
posed to the flame. Along with this stUl a flat platinum pan is
used with an undulating bottom similar to that of the still for the
preliminary concentration of the acid. As jilatinum is not liable
to fuse or be attacked by any strength of boiling acid, a relatively
small platinum pan does as much work as a far larger one made
of lead.
Sulpluites.
Several of these are treated of under the heads of the respective
bases. Thus, for the sulphates of ammonia, see Nitrogen, vol.
xvii. p. 515 sq. ; for Potassium and Sodium, see these articles ; for
calcium, see Lime (vol. xiv. p. 648) and Gypsum (vol. xi. p. 351) ;
for barium, see Bakytes (vol. iii. p. 406) ; for magnesium, see Epsom
Salts (vol. viii. p. 496) and Magnesium (vol. xv. p. 217) ; and for
iron, see Coppep.as (vol. vi. p. 352).
WphatB Sulphate of aluminium, Alo(S04)3-fl8H20, the active ingredient
of alumi- of Ai.uM (vol. i. p. 613), is now being produced industrially in a
oium. state of perfect freedom from iron, and is more and more taking the
place of alum. I'aper-makefS, at least, no longer use anytliiug else
wr the production of alumina soap, which in machine-made paper
serves as the principal irigredieut of the size. The crude salt is
easily produced by treatmcut of relatively pure bauxite (native
hydrated alumina) or china clay with chamber acid at a suitable
temperature. The resulting mass is dissolved in water, the undis-
solved matter (silica, &o.) allowed to settle, the clear liquor drawn
off, and from it an apology for what is wanted is obtained by evapo-
ration to a small volume and allowing to crystallize. But the salt
thus obtained is always contaminated with a variety of foreign
sulphates, including sulphate of iron, and this last-named impurity,
for the majority of applications, cannot be suffered to remain. One
of the best methods for its removal, if not the best, is that dis-
covered by Semper and Fahlberg : the solution, which must contain
all its iron as ferric salt and contain somewhat less than the normal
proportion of sulphuric acid, is digested with hydrated binoxide of
lead. In the course of about a week all the iron is completely
precipitated. The better qualities of sulphate of alumina nowadays
nave at most only a few thousa'idths per cent of iron.
Sulphate of copper (blue vitriol) is made technically in chiefly
two ways. One method is to heat metallic copper to redness in air
until it is almost completely oxidized, and to dissolve tlio oxide by
means of dilute sulphuric acid. The Cu^O present behaves like a
mixture of metal and CuO. Another process starts from the sub-
sulphide Cu.^S (produced metallurgically as "mat," or iwihaps cx-
oressly from its elements), and converts this into sulpliato And
oxide by careful roasting. The product is dissolved in dilute s:ul-
phuric acid. Large quantities of blue vitriol are produced incident-
ally in the " parting " of auriferous silver (see Gold, vol. x. p. 749)
by means of oil of vihiol. Sulphate of copper crystallizes from its
aqueous solution in large transparent blue crystals of the tri(:linic
system ; their composition is CuSO^SHoO. The crystals are stabls
in the air. At 100° C. they lose 4H2O, the last HjO requiring a
temperature of 200° C. for its expulsion. The anhydrous salt is
dirty white ; it readily reunites with water, and consequently ia
available as a dehydrating agent, for instance, for the preparation
of absolute alcohol from spirit of wine. 100 parts of water dissolve
at 0° 10° 20° 50° 100° C.
31-6 370 42-3 65-8 203-3 parts of crystallized salt (Poggiale);
The salt is insoluble in alcohol. Blue vitriol is used largely in
electrotyping and for many other purposes.
Subjoined are two general tests for sulphur. (1) All sulphui
compounds when brought in contact at a red heat with a mixture
of nitre and carbonate of soda (or some other equivalent alkaline
oxidizing mixture) are changed so that the sulphur assumes the
form of alkaline sulphate, which can be extracted by means ol
water. From the (filtered) solution the SO3 is precipitated by
addition of chloride of barium as BaSOj,— a white powdery nrecipi-
tate characteristically insoluble in -rt-ater and in dilute acids. (2)
Any non-voiatile sulphur compound, when heated on charcoal in a
reducing flame with carbonate of soda, yields sulphide of sodiutn'
("hepar"), which, when moistened ivith water on a silver coin,!
produces a black stain of metallic sulphide. (Compare Selenium,'
vol. xxi. pp. 631-632.) (W. D.)
SULPICIUS SEVERUS. See Seveeus.
SULTANPUR, or Sitltaitpooe, a district of British
India, in the Rdi Bareli (Roy Bareilly) division of Oudh,
under the jurisdiction of .the lieutenant-governor of the
North-Western Provinces, lying between 26° 39' and 27'
68' N. lat. and 81° 36' and 82° 44' E. long. With an areai
of 1707 square miles, it is bounded on the N. by FaizAbid,
on the E. by Jaunpur, on the S. by Partdbgarh, and on the
W. by R&i Bareli. The surface of the district is generally
level, being broken only by ravines in the neighbourhood
of the rivers by which its drainage is effected. The central
portion of the district is highly cultivated, while in the
south are widespread arid plains and swampy jhils and
marshes. The principal river is the Gumti, which passes
through the centre of SultAnpur and affords a valuable
highway for commerce. Minor streams are the K4ndu,l
Pili, Tengha, and Nandhia, the last two being of some imV
portance, as their channels are deep, though narrow, and
form the outlet for the superfluous water of the extensive
series of jhils. There are no forests in the district, the
only tree-covered tracts being stunted (fArfi- jungles used for
fuel. Wild animals are very few, chiefly wolves, nylghau,
and wild hog. There are some good roads in the district,
chief of which is the imperial high road from FaizibAd to
Allahdhdd, which intersects it from north to south. The
Oudh and Rohilkliand Railway traverses the district for a
few miles in the extreme east. The climate is considered
mild, temperate, and healthy; the average annual rainfall
is about 46 inches. _
The population, according to the census ol 18S1, was 957,912
(males 475,125, females 482,787), of whom 856,329 were Hindus
and 101,524 Mohammedans. The only town mth a population
exceeding 5000 is Sultaupur, the administrative headquarters of
the district, which is situated on the right bank of the Guniti, and
in 1881 contained 9374 inhabitants. Of the total area 671,795 acreS
were returned as cultivated in 1884-86 and 368,911 aa cultivable |
the total area under crops in the same year was 672,058 acres, wheat
and rice being the principal products. The trade of the district
deals principally with grain, cotton, molasses, and native cloth, and
its manufactures --which, however, are unimportant — comprisS
coarse cotton cloth, brass vessels and other metal work, sugar, and
indigo. The only incident worthy of note in the history of tha
district since the British annexation of Oudh »a the revolt of 1 1«
native troops stationed at Sultanpur during the mntuiy. 1li«
treops rose in rebellion on 9th Juno 1857, and, after firing on »»<!
murdering two of their offlcers, sacked the station. Upon th4
restoration of order Sultanpur cantonment was strengthened by •
detachment of British troops ; but ia 1861 it was entirely than-
donod as a military station. ... __„
SULU ISLANDS. See Philippines, vol. xviu. p. 75-
SUMACH. See Leather, vol.' xiv. p. 383.
ass
S U M A T R A
SU5LA.TKA, in Malay called Fnlu Partcha or Indalas,
is one of the largest and most important islands of the
East Indian Archipelago. It stretches from north-west to
south-east for a distance of 1047 miles, — Tandjong Batu,
the northmost point, being situated in 5° 40' N. lat. and
the southmost in 5° 59' S. lat. The greatest breadth is
about 230 miles. In area it is estimated that Sumatra,
•with its 170,744 square miles,' is thirteen times the size
of Holland, of which country the island is in large measure
a dependaicy. The northern half runs obliquely parallel
to the Malay Peninsula, from which it is separated by
the Strait of Malacca, and the southern end is separated
by the narrow Sunda Strait from Java. Unlike Java,
Sxmiatra has a series of considerable islands (Nias Islands,
Mentawei Islands, itc.) arranged like outworks in front of
the coast that faces the open Indian Ocean. The general
physical features of the island are simple and striking : a
range of lofty mountains extends throughout its whole
length, their western slopes descending rapidly towards
the ocean and their eastei-n looking out over a vast alluvial
tract of unusual uniformity. This mountain range is
known as Bukit Barisan or Chain Moimtain. It varies
in average height from 1500 to 6000 feet, and consists of
thi'ee or four ridges separated by plateau -like valleys.
-Imong its more remarkable summits are Ya Mura or
Gold Mountain, near the north end (6879 feet) ; Seret
Berapi or Merapi (5857 feet), in 0° 44' N. lat. ; Pasaman
or Mount Ophir (10,866) ; Merapi (9563) ; Indi-apura, in
1° 36' S. lat. (11,800), which has the reputation of being
the culminating point of the whole island; Dempo (10,000);
and Abong Abong (10,000). The summit of Indrapura
was reached by the Central Sumatran Expedition of
1877-79. Towards the north end of the island the spurs
of the main chain sometimes estend towards the neigh-
ibourhood of the east coast. Owing to this configuration
of the island, the water-courses of the western -side are
comparatively short : only very few of them are large
enough to be navigable. Those of the eastern slope, on
the other hand — such as the Taniiang, the SLmpang, the
'Asahan, the Kubu, the Siak, the Indragiri, the Jambi,
the Kampas, the Palembang — are longer, and can not un-
frequently carry vessels of considerable burden. In their
lower courses they form enormous inosculating deltas.
The mountainous regions contain numerous lakes, many
of them evidently the craters of extinct volcanoes. When,
as sometimes happens, two or three of these craters have
merged into one, the lake attains a great size. Amongst
the larger lakes may be mentioned the Tao Silalahi, with
its ofiFshoots Tao Muara and Tao Balige; Manindji, to the
fwest of Fort de Kock ; Sinkarah, south-east of Fort de
(Kock; Korintji, inland from Indrapura; Kanau, inland
from Tampah ; and the lake of the X. Eotas, in the
jPadang Highlands.
Volcanoes. — Sumatra still possesses several centres of
iVolcanic eruption, and in 1883 its southern extremity
shared with Java in the disasters of the Krakatoa outbreak.
Indrapura sends up from time to time heavy columns of
smoke. Merapi, ^ the most active of the volcanoes in the
island, was in fuD eruption in the years 1807, 1822, 1834,
Jl845, 1863-64, and 1872. Mt Talang in the Padang High-
lands, also has three craters, one of which is filled with
molten sulphur. Junghuhn registered sixteen Sumatran
volcanoes, and others have since been discovered.
Geology. — A large part of the Sumatran highlands con-
sists of very old (probably Silurian or Devonian) slates and
■'^ The triangulation of Sumatra was commenced in June 1883 by
the measurement of a base line 4857 metres (nearly 3i miles) long in
the neighbourhood of Padaug.
' For an account of changes in the principal crater sea Verbeek's paper
m Natuurk. Tidschr. tan i\'<rf. hidie, 1885.
clay schists, combined with hornblende talc and otter
schists, and traversed by veins of quartz. Granite also
plays a considerable part, though it does not come so much
to the surface. Carboniferous rocks (marls, sandstones,
limestones, &c.) are in some places well developed.
Between the Carboniferous period and the Tertiary there
is a great blank all through the island. Augite-andesite
of late Eocene origin has greatly modified the surface of
the country, and constitutes, inter alia, the main part of
the Barisan range.^ The Tertiary formation is strongly
developed in four different divisions. They are usually
considered to be Eocene ; but this determination rests on
badly preserved fossils. The oldest or breccia division
consists of debris of carboniferous limestone, syenites, and
granites, sometimes in the form of breccia proper, some-
times in that of sandstones or marl clays. The fish remains
found in the marls have led some palaeontologists to assign
a greater antiquity than that of Eocene to these strata,
while others, again, consider them to be iliocene. Above
this division (apparently absent in south Sumatra) comes
the second of sandstones, clay rocks, coal-beds, and coal.
The coal appears to be the result of a vegetation which
grew in situ. Above the coal is sandstone, sometimes 1000
feet thick. The third division consists of marly sandstones
of evidently marine origin ; it is well developed in west
Sumatra, but is absent from the south of the island. The
fourth division is a limestone, rich in remains of corals,
molluscs, echinids, and especially in Orbitoides ; it is well
developed both in the west and in the south. Miocene
deposits are more abundant in the south than in the west.'
At Lubu Lintang in the Benkulen residency the Ebnina
fossils are characteristic*
Miuerals. — Sumatra possesses various kinds of mineral
wealth. Gold occurs in the central regions ; gold mines
have long been worked in Menangkabau. and the interior
of Padang, and gold-washing is carried on in several of
the streams. Tin, which forms the staple of the neigh-
bouring island of Bangka or Banca (q.v.), is found more
especially in Siak and the "division" of the L. Kotas.
Copper mines are worked in the Padang Highlands (most
largely in the district of Lake Sinkarah) and at Muki in
Achin. Iron is not unfrequent, and magnetic iron is ob-
tained at the "Iron Mountain" near Fort van der Capellen
(Tanah Datar). Coal seams exist in the ilalabuh valley
(.\chin),^ in the Sinamu valley, and on both sides of the
Ombiliu (Umbilin) river ; the Ombilin field was brought
into notice more especially by Mr D. D. Yeth of the 1877-
79 expedition. Lignite of good quality is found in several
localities. Oil wells are worked at Langkat and other
places ; and arsenic, saltpetre, alum, naphtha, and sulphur
may be collected in the volcanic districts.
Administrative Divisions. — The process by which the
Dutch have advanced to their present position in Sumatra
has been a very gradual one, and even yet, though their
supremacy is effective all round the coast, much of the
interior remains practically unpo.:sessed. The following are
the more important political subdivisions of the country.
A. The Dutch government of the West Coast (area
46,212 square miles), extending along the shore of the
Indian Ocean from Trumon, 2° 53' N. lat., to the Mandjuta,
2' 25' S. lat., comprises the residencies Padang, Tapanuli,
and the Padang Highlands {Padan<jsche Bovenlanden).
' For the geology see K. D. M. Verbeek, Die Terliarformation von
Sumatra und ihrrn Thierresten \ " Topographische en Geologische
Beschrijving van Zuid-Sumatra " in Jaarboek tan hel Mijnwesm in
Ned. Indie, 1881, pi. i. ; and short papers in Osol. Moj., 1877, 1878,
&c. See also the 2d part of Midden-Sumalra, by D. D. Veth, 1882.
* Fall details and a geological bibliography will be found in H.
van Cappelle, Het Karakler van de Xederlandsch-IndiiAe Tertiairt.
Fauna, Sneek, 1885.
° See Indiscfie Qids, 1880, paper and mop.
SUMATRA
639
The governor of tlie whole government has his residence
at Padang. The residency of Padang is bounded south
by Benkulen and north by Tapanuli. It contains a large
number of separate districts, mostly corresponding to
natural divisions formed by mountain-spurs or river valleys.
Among the rest are Indrapura, Tapan, Lunang, and Silaut,
which form the regency of Indrapura, and arc the remains
of the ancient kingdom of that name. Administratively
Padang is divided into Ayer Bangis and Rau, Pnaman,
Padanst, Painan. The headquarters of Ayer Bangis and
Rau is^Talu, to the north of Jit Ophir. Ayer Bangis it-
self is on the coast, and has a good roadstead on one of
the islands that protect its bay. At Rau is the Dutch fort
of Amerongen, and to the north-west the old fort of Balong
or Sevenhoven. Padang is a town of some 2000 houses
and 15,000 inhabitants, with a Chinese settlement and a
European quarts. It is the chief market in Sumatra for
gold. Indrapura lies abodt 8 miles up the river of its own
name, and is now only an unimportant village of bamboo
huts The residency of Tapanuli is divided into Siboga
(which includes the Nias Islands), Natal, Mandehng and
Angkola, Padang Lawas. The town of Siboga has con-
siderable commercial importance, the bay on which it stands
being one of the finest in all Sumatra. Tapanuli, the
ancient capital, and Sinkil, a commercial town, also deserve
to be mentioned. In Natal (properly Natar) the leading
places are Jam bur, Sinkuang, and Natar. Padang Sidem-
puan, the chief town of Mandeling and Angkola, lies to
the south of Mt Lubu Raya. Fort Elout was formerly the
miUtary centre in Great Mandeling. The residency of the
Padang Highlands lies east of Padang proper. The whole
surface is mountainous, and the natural districts are very
numerous. Agam, Batipu and the X. Kotas,i the L. Kotas,
Tanah Datar, and the XIII. and LX. Kotas form the five
administrative divisions. Bukit Tinggi, or, as it is usually
caUed, Fort de Kock, is the capital of the residency ; other
places of note are Bondjol, Padang Pandjang Payakombo,
Fort van der Capellen, Pagar Rujung (the residence of the
last prince of J^Ienangkabau), Priyangan (the remains of
another capital of Menangkabau), Sinkarah, and bolok.
To the government of the West Coast belong the following
islands :— Banyak Islands, a small limestone group, weU
■wooded and sparsely peopled ; Nias Islands, with an area
of 2523 square miles; Batu Islands (Pulu Kngi, Pulu Baai,
Tanah Masa, Tanah BaUa, &c.; area 630 square miles);
Mentawei and Pagch or Nassau Islands (area 4200 square
miles) ; Engano (area 3G0 square miles), annexed by Hol-
land in 1863 and seldom visited. The Nias Islands are a
very interesting group (see Dr Schreiber in Pdermann's
Mittheil, 1881). There are no volcanoes, but earthquakes
are very frequent. In the north the villages are mainly
perched on steep hills reached by ladders; in the south
they are larger and occupy low-lying sites.
B. The residency of Benkulen or Bencoolen (i.e., Bang
Kulon, " west coast ") lies along the west coast from the
Mandj'uta to the south end of Sumatra. It is divided into
eight districts :—Mokko-Mokko ; Lais or Sungei Lama;
the district (ommelanden) of Benkulen ; the capital Ben-
kulen ; Seluma ; Mana and Pasumah Ulu Mana ; Kauer ;
and lastly Kru. Among the noteworthy places are Mokko-
Mokko with the old English fort Anna; Bantal; Lais
(Laye), €he former seat of the English resident ; and Ben-
kulen, the capital, with 12,000 inhabitants, Fort Marl-
borough, and a Chinese karapong (see Bencoolen).
C. The residency of the Lampong districts, separated
from Palembang by the Masudji river, is partly mountain-
ous (Lampong Peak 0800 feet), partly so flat as to be under
' " Kola " -meons settlomeot or township, and a great many of tho
districts aro named from the number of kotas they contaia ; thus m
Agam we have the VII. Kolas, tho VIII. Kotas, !tc.
water in the rainy season. It is divided into the districts
of Telok Belong, Tulang Bawang, Seputih, Sekampong,
Katimbang, and Semangka. The more important places
are Telok Betong, chief town of the residency, Mcnggala
(with a good trade), Gunung Sugi, Sukadana, Tandjong
Karang, Bcniawang.
T). The residency of Palembang consists of the former
Jantjdom of this name, various districts more or less de-
pendent on that monarchy, and (since 1839) tie kingdom
of Jambi. With the exclusion of this last it is divided into
the administrative districts of Palembang; Tebing Tinggi;
Lematang Ulu, Lematang Hir, and the Pasumah country;
Komering Ulu, Ogan Ulu, Inim, and the Ranau districts ;
Musi Hir"; Ogan Ilir, Komering Hir, and Blidah; and Hiran
and Banyrt Asin. In the kingdom of Jambi the government
is left in the hands of the native chief. The town of Palem-
bang is a large place of 50,000 inhabitants (2500 Chinese^,
with extensive barracks, hospitals, <fcc., a mosque (1740),
considered the finest in the Dutch Indies, and a traditional
tomb of Alexander the Great. A good description of the
town and its river approaches is given by Mr Forbes.
E. The kingdom of Indragiri (along with Kwanten and
the districts of Reteh and Mandah) is administratively
subject to the residency of Riouw.
F. The residency of the East Coast jvaa formed in 1873
of the territory of Siak and its dependencies and the state
of Kampar. It consists of five divisions, — the island
Bengkalis, Siak proper, Labuan Batu, Asahan, Deli. The
island has an area of 529 square miles and a population
of 5000. Deli is the most important part of the residency,
—having been since 1870 the seat of the Amsterdam Deli
Company, engaged in growing tobacco, cofi'ee, &c.
G. In 1878 the Achin (Atjeh) kingdom was turned into
a Dutch government, but the greater part of the territory
is still but little known. Compare Achin, vol. i. p. 95 sq.
Flora.— Thoa^h Sumatra is separated from Java by so narrow a
strait, the botanist at once finds that he has broken new ground
when be crosses to the northern i'sland, and the farther he advances
inward the more striking becomes the originahty of tho tlora. 1 ne
alaii" fiekls, which play a great part in Java, have even a wider range
in Sumatra descending to within 700 or 800 feet of sea-level; where-
ever a space in the forest is clearea this aggressive grass begins to
take possession of the soU, and if once it be fully rooted the wood-
land has gi-eat difficulty in re-cstablisHng itself. Among the orders
more strratjly represented in Sumatra than in Java are the IHp-
terocaTpacem,ChrysobalaiMccm, sclerocarp Myrtacem, Melaslomacea,
Begonias, Neptntlics, Oxcdidacm, Myristicwe^, TcrnslromtoMm,
ConnaracoB, Amyridaceee, Cyrtandracem, Epacndaccm, ^='1 £"0;
caulaccss. Many of the Sumatran forms which do not occur in
Java are found in the Malay Peninsula. In the north tho nine
tree [Pimis Mcrkiisii) has advanced almost to the emtator, and in
rtie south are a variety of species characteristic of tU Austra an
remon. The distribution of species does not depend on elcvaUon
tolhe same extent as in Java, Aere the horizontal f on^«^^« ^1^^?
marked ; and there appears to be a tendency of al f°™^ *" ^^^
at lower altitudes than in that ^^^?^'^- ^ ''"^^'^l^ll^^T^J,
the Sumatran flora is the great variety of trees that vej^ith each
other in stature and beauty, and «? " tf^^^-P"''"^'"S,f jl^
the island ranks high even among the nchly wooded 1*°^^ °f tli°
archip»lago2 The process of reckless deforestation »s, 'io»iver
be^illLTto tell on ^certain districts -the.natives of en dostv^^^
a Ihole tree for a plank or rafter. The prmcipal cjUtvatcd ^UnU.
apart fr6m sugar cane and coffee, are iico (in g^'^^'^jf ? "^ ^^',''
tL cocoa.nutp.ilm, the areng palm, the «"'^'' »"V^° ^^ ^^^1
raai20 (ia'mng), yams, and sweet potatoes ; and among t"o ""^
TreTs are t'Tfndiau tamarind, the bUbing, P.^^^X 'ai^i"*,
gvuva, papaw, orange, and lemon. Even b°f>'"' *';V*;„"™'JJ
LropeaLs Sumatra was known for its P»f P" P'^'/J^tS'of X
these still foi-m tho most conspicuous feature of tho souiuo^ in
island. For the foreign market coffee is ^1"? X' '^Pf°[^°„ia„.
tho crop5,-the Padang districts being tho '^ «f «»' ^^ '^ p" j, '
tion Vho average -L of the coffee b-gl't °,-^^^^^^^^^^^
'obtltd^^i^o^st^^c^^^^
Central Sumatra fiiF^tion alone ooU.cted i^cimeni of
' The
about 400 kinds of timber. , ■■ «t>„j, rin™Siim»tran»."
» SeeMiquel,Kttra/n<i.airai»; SuppLl.'Prodr. Flora i.tinutrai«,
1860.
640
/'a»«a.-Snellemai.n con6rm3 the statement of Wallace that no
trace has been found of the orang-outan (SMa satyrus). The
s:^m^ng {Eyobatcs syndadylus), an ape peculiar to the island, fills
the woods with the cry y^ja mm." The ungko {Hylolalcs agilis)
.3 not so common. A fairly familiar form if the simpei {Semno.
pitlucus mchlophus) ho apes are found on the plateau of Alahan
Pandjang and the slopes of the mountains above 1500 metres
Ihe tjigah {Cmoceius cynovwlgus) is the only ape found in central
Sumaua m a tame state. The pig- tail ape (Macacus ncmc^trinus)-
as Raffles described it in his " Descriptive Catalogue of a Zoological
Collection made in Sumatra," Trans. Linn. Sol, 1820, rol xiii
p. 243-is employed by the natives of Benkulen to ascend'th^
cocoa-nut trees for the pm-pose of gathering the nuts. The Galea-
cnnZl'. '"^"^'y^^^'^'-'ayinsceit," or "flying lemur") is fairly
ro^T ^^ ?^'' °{ ^°'S *"''"'y '" twenty.five Ipecies have been
registered; in central Sumatra they dwell in thousands iu the
limestone eaves. The Pta-ofiiis cdulU ("kilong," "flying fox") is
to be met with almost everywhere, especially in the durian 'trees
The tiger frequeny makes his presence felt, but is seldom seen
ult'l frequently hunted ; he prefers to prowl in what the
Malays call tiger weather, that is, dark, starless, misty nights.
The clouded tiger or rimau bulu {Felis macrocem) is also known,
( cofl-ee-rat of the Europeans) is only too abundant ; Ardictis
i«i««ro«i, appears to be rare. The Sumatran hare (Levus netsckcri)
discovered in 1880,_adds a second species to the Lcius n^rZlt
the only hare previously known in the East Indian Archipelacro.
•r?! -Jf"""/"""'""" IS the only representative of the Fdmtata.
f.Z,: i T'" ^'■^ strongly characteristic of the Sumatran
fauna: not only are the rhinoceros (Eh. sumatramts), the Sus
TOKates, and the Tajtirus indicus common, but the elephant (alto-
gether absent from Java) is represented by a peculiar species. The
Sumatran rhinoceros difl-ers from the Javanese in having two horns,
R^nn f f I"""" ^^r^l """ '■'"'g^ '^""^ ""t extend more than
8500 feet above sea-level, and that of the elephant not above 4900
l!),;^ ^^. , .^°^ «"irfaic»s does not appear to exist in the
island. The Anhlope sumatrensis (kambing-utan) has been driven
to the loneliest parts of the uplands. Cervus equinus is widely
distributed, Cervus munljac less so.' ^
Inhabitants.— The bulk of the Sumatran population is Malayan-
but to what extent the Malay has absorbed pre-Malayan blood is
8tiU open to investigation. The Kubus, a race or tribe still found
m an emphaticaUy savage state in the interior, have been by some
regarded as the remains ofan aboriginal stock; but Mr J G Garson
reporting on Kubu skulls and skeletons submitted to him by Mr
i t'*u°T? ',° tbB conclusion that they are decidedly Malay
though the frizzle m the hair might indicate a certain mixture of
AiTT ^'"/"^i^f .'•'^^'''^'.■o/*./;!^^, 1884). Th.eyspeak the Malay
dialect of the district to which they belong.
One of the most interesting of all the' savage or semi-savage
peoples IS the Battaks or Batahs. About these a great deal has
°T/h ""t!*-" """; J"°gl^"li" published his Die Battalundcr in
i^f 1 ^- "f °?"i^ whether they were settled in Sumatra
before the Hindu period. Their knguage contains words of Sans-
krit ori|in and others most readily referred to Javanese, Malay
Menangkabau, Macassar, Sundanese, Niasese, and Tagal influence
At the present time they occupy the country to the south-east o'f
Achm in the centre of which lies the great Toba Lake ; but it is
evident that they formerly possessed, or at least were present in
various other districts both north and south. The process of ab-
sorption into the Achin and Malay population which is now rapidly
going on seems to have been long at work. In many points the
Batteks are quite ddferent from the Malay type. The average
sUtnre of the men is about 5 feet 4 inches, of the women 4 feet 8
inches In general build they are rather thickset, with broad
shoulders and fairly muscular Umbs. The colour of the skin ran-es
from dark brown to a yeUowish tint, the darkness apparently qiSte
independent of climatic influences or distinction of race The
skuU 13 rather oval than round. In marked contrast to the Malay
^pe are the large black long-shaped eyes, beneath heavy black or
dark brown eyebrows. The cheek bones are somewhat prominent
but ess so than among the Malays. J. B. Neumann^ reckons the
¥ke'R ?t" V f '^^ "'3°'" '""'. ''k'^ "^^^^'^ ^' treats at 50 000
The Battak language,' especially the Toba dialect, has been studied
by Van der Tuuk {Balal-sch Wcordenboek). On the bordei^ of
smTi''rd-''K°' K^^° ""^ *^^ Redjangers, a pecuUar tr be who
stm employ a distinctive written character, which they cut with a
P«,r r"^^°° r '°°*"- '^^^ ^""^ ^^"^^t^^ is employed by the
Pa^umahs who bear traces of Javanese elements or influence. Full
aeteils as to the various forms are given by Van Hasselt, Volksbe-
SUMATRA
y^^Zf ''"? '^K^^ ?';" Forbes's IfalvralUVs Wanderings. On this as on other
i M?C ^»"^,^" Bila Stroomgebied,'' in Tijdsch. Ned. Aardrijkek. Gen^lSSe.
Jr«>,rfl i^s« .„° Ophuysen has published (in Bijd. tot Land-, Taoi-, m Vollen-
Kundc,lSS6) an interesting collection of Battak poetry. He describes a c^i-
ma leaf laaguige used by Battak lovers, in which the name of some w^r
Jtant is subflitnted for the word with whiih it has greatest phonetfc si^t?
Mukims. I shows, heoides the Mantir element Malay ^tlJ'
Hindu, and Arabic influence. The inhabitants of »h.-v?Io i , j'
have a special tongue, which has been studied brHestderm:!*
a ,^„I ^\^"-l' <^r'''""°', °^ '^^g« t^^'=t' ^™der it certTin hat^
a w hole the island cannot be thickly peopled Tn 1 RRi rt?/
ment Almanac gave the population of he Dnfi , ^"'™'
a fair estimate for the whole is somewhat under 3 500000 tL
Nias Islands would add 230,000 to the total. The mostpopukus
re^on is the government of the AVest Coast populous
arrofm^^t' -"' ^' 'T^'- Sumatran civilization and culture
was the Sft nf.T/l,'"'*^ V i °°' iniprobable that the island
I?„t7% 1 ? ^^ archipelago to receive the Indian immi-
grants who played so important a part in the history of the reSon
Certain inscriptions discovered in the Padang Highlands seemTo
certify the existence in the 7th centuiy of a powerful Hindu W
dom in Tanah Datar, not far from the site of the la er ca^tfl
?I™' • '°f be t"' ^° *^# if eriptions Sumatra is called the 'C
i«l ^^ . ""? °^ ^""^"^ influence stUl to be found in the
island are extremely numerous, though far from being so impoit-
ant as those of Java. There are ruiSs of Hindu temples atXtar
in Dell, near Pertib. on the Panbi river at Jambi, in the inten'or
of Palembang above Lahat, and in numerous other localities. One
rfver ' ^'-Fl^e b^n 1 ?""^r 'Tf- " ^* ^^"^'^^ ^^'^"^ <"> '^' Kampar
dT'frJ fl n^*r°' (""^iutl^g a stupa 40 feet high) may possibly
date from the 11th century. At Pagar Kujung are severafston^
with inscriptions in Sanskrit and Menangkabau Malay. SaS
wwds occur m the various languages sp°oken in the ^islanlT^d
hlZf t1 '"'^i^'^f",' ti^« fcred tree of the Hindu, is also the icred
ZZ^L ^^^^t^, ^* \'^t^r P^^d the Hindu influence in
Sumatra w^as strengthened by an influx of Hindus from Java, who
0 S v»Jlf '''"^'?!i Jambi, and Indragiri, but their attachment
to Sivaism prevented them from coalescing with their Buddhist
l7^tZll *>' Tf'u ^? ^^' ^^* ^^°'^y Mohammedanism bl
l^»^f^f ' '"!' • ^'''' ^""^ "" '=°"^'« "f ti^^ took a firm hold upon
some of the most important states. In Menangkabau, for instance,
the Arabic alphabet displaced the Kawi (ancient Javanese) charade;
previously employed Native chronicles derive the Menangkabau
princes from Alexander the Great ; and the Achinese dynasty boasts
Its origin from a missionary of Islam. The town of Samudera was
at that period the scat of an important principality in the north
wLi" 5 ' nf ,V °',' ''"'''"'* °™^ i^ probably a corruption of this
?a,e1' p5 "'^'Tl'' "^ 881.f°!^<l a viUage called Samudra near
Pasei (Passir), which possibly indicates the site.
<5„1"X"° rn!-''® .^ ''T '^^"^f '"""^^^ i° tii^ recent history of
Sumatra. ITje island, or ratler the portions possessed by the
?af^h pT ^1^'"''' ^^T ^?" *° ^«^«- 1821. Second expedition
against Palembang ; Palembang captured 23d June. 1822. Men-
angkabau recognized Dutch authority. 1825. Benkulen taken over
fn wif'p ? '^''- "^^7- 1*"- Cultivation of cofi-ee extended
in West Coast region by Governor A. v. Michiels. 1840. Extension
of the West Coast government to Sinkil. 1851. Revolt suppressed
m Palembang; expedition to the Lampong districts. -1853. Cholera
rages m the island ; Raja Tiang Alam, ringleader of the revolt in
Palembang, surrenders. 1858. Expedition against Jambi , sultan
dethroned and treaty made with his successor. 1860. Rediang
^iif-^° Palembang residency. 1863. Expedition against Nias
1865. Expedition against Asahan and Serdang (East Coast) 1872
rl^f w"'-'^'?,*?® ^"*^'' Government in regard to Sumatra!
18/3. War m Achiu commenced. 1874. Capture of the kraton of
Achm 1876._ Capture of the TI., IV., and IX. Mukims (Achin)-
expedition against Eota Jutan (East Coast) ; emancipation of slares
on West Coast 1878. Benkulen made a residency] civil adminis-
tration of Achia and dependencies entrusted to a governor
thPif 'i'^™*'^ deaLng with Sumatra is very eitensive. Of the older workt
;^ti,„ ^- ■"^o.™ '5 Marsden s History of Snynatra, ISll. A full list of other
^iS-? ,0?^ '^i ^ f°"'"' "» ^ '="'■= Aardrijkskundig Wcordenboek van NederU
inaie, 1S69. Among recent works ,by far the most important is Midden-Su-
V^'S^'^^^'J^SJ^Onderzoekingcn der Sumatra Ezpeditie, 1S77-1S79 (1S«2), edited
by Prof. P. J. Veth. See also Brau de Saint-Pol Lias, ^e de Sumatri, 1884:
L.astian, /ji<fijn«s«ii ; Buijs, Twee Jaren op Sumatra's Westkust ; M. Fauque.
Kapport 3ur un Voyage 4 Sumatra," in Archives da Missions Scient., 3d sen
TOl. xu. ; Kielstra, Beschrijving van der Atjeh Oorlog, 1885-86, and "Sumatra*
West-Kust van 1819-1825," in Bijd. tot Land-, ic, -Kunde, 1887. (H. A. K?.}
lol. J ,^o5rP'"2M "{ ''."; Tudschr. van Ind. Taal-, Land-, en Volken-Klinii.
I860 and 18, 9. and ^ erhandel. Batav. Gen. van Kunst en Wettnsch., 1881.
o AU the facts relating to this derivation are given in Tule and BunwlL
(ilostary of Anglo-Indian Wards, s.v. "ZmaiU^"
F
'^
V
<^;
S U M — S U M
641
SUMBAL, or Sumbdl, also called UvsK Root, a drug
recently introduced into European medical practice. It
consists of the root of Ferula Sumbul, Hook., a tall Um-
belliferous plant found in tbe north of Bokhara, its range
apparently extending beyond the Amur. It was first
brought to Russia in 1835 as a substitute for musk; it
was subsequently recommended as a remedy for cholera,
and in 1867 was introduced into the British pharmacopeia.
The root as found in commerce consists of transverse sec-
tions an inch or more in thickness and from 1 to 3 or more
inches in diameter. It has a dark thin papery bark, a
spongy texture, and the cut surface is marbled with white
and blackish or pale brown ; it has a musky odour and a
bitter aromatic taste. Sunibal is used in medicine as ah
antispasmodic and stimulating tonic, especially in nervous
diseases. It owes its medicinal properties to a balsamic
resin and an essential oil. Of the former it contains about
9 per cent, and of the latter one-third per cent. The resin
is soluble in ether and has a musky smell, which is not
fully developed until after contact with water ; by dry dis-
tiUation it yields umbelliferone, CgH^Og, a crystalline sub-
stance soluble in water, ether, and chloroform, and produc-
ing in an alkaline solution a brilliant blue fluorescence,
which is destroyed by the addition of an acid in excess.
Under the name of East Indian sumbal, the root of Dorema
ammoniacum, Don., has occasionaUy been offered m Enghsh com-
merce. It is of a browner hue, has the taste of ammoniacum, and
gives a much darker tincture than the genuine drug ; it is thus
easily detected. The name "sumbal" (a word of Arabic origin,
signifying a spike or ear) is applied to several fragrant roots in the
East, the principal being N^ardostachys Jalamansi, D.C. (see Spike-
NAKD). "West African sumbal is the root of a species of Cypcrus.
SUMBAWA (properly Samba wa or Samawa), an island
of the East Indian Archipelago, one of the Sunda group,
lies between 8° 6' and 9° 3' S. lat. and 116° 47' and 119°
12' E. long., to the east of Lombok, from which it is sepa-
rated by the narrow Alias strait. Its area is estimated at
5186 square miles. The population was computed to
number about 150,000 in 1887. The deep Bay of Saleeot
Sumbawa on the north divides the island into two penin-
sulas, and the isthmus is further reduced by the narrower
Bay of Tjempi (Chempi) entering from the south. The
eastern peninsula is deeply indented by the Bay of Bima.
The whole surface of Sumbawa is mountainous : G. Ny-
enges, in the western peninsula, is 5560 feet high, and G.
Tambora, in the eastern, which is said to have lost a third
of its elevation in the eruption of 1815, is still 8697 feet
high. There are no navigable streams. The climate and
productions are not unlike those of Java, though the rains
are heavier, the drought more severe, and the fertility less.
Sulphur, arsenic, asphalt, and petroleum are the mineral
products. Mohammedanism prevails throughout the island,
except among certain mountain tribes.
Sumbawa is divided into four independent states,— Sumbawa
proper, Dompo, Sangar, and Bima. Two other states on the
northern extremity of the island were so devastated by the Tambora
eruption of 1815 that their territory, after lying for long uninhabited,
was in 1866 divided between Dompo and Sangar. Sumbawa proper
occupies the western peninsula. Tho residence of the sultan is
Sumbawa, 2 miles from the coast of the great bay, in 8° 32' S. lat.
and 117° 20' 33" E. long. It is surrounded with pahsado and
ditches. The inhabitants of this state employ sometimes the Malay
and sometimes the Macassar character in wxiting. A considerable
trade is carried on in the export of horses, buffaloes, goats, dinding
, (dried flesh), skins, birds' nests, wax, rice, katjang, sappanwood, &<•.
j Sumbawa entered into treaty relations with tho Dutch East India
Company in 1674. Dompo is tho western half of tho eastern pcnin-
sala.- The capital of tlio state, Dompo, lies in tho heart of the
country, on a stream that falls into Tjeinpi Bay. Bada, the sultan's
residence, is farther west, Sangar occupies the north-western
promontory of tho island, and Bima tbo extreme oast. Bima or
Bodjo, tho chief town of tlie latter state, lies on tho east side oftho
Bay of Bima ; it has a stonc-wallcd palace and a mosque, as well as
» Dutch fort. Tho population of Bima is curiously divided into
twelve guilds or castes (dari). In tho town is a Government Christian
achool dating from 1874.
SUMMARY JURISDICTION. By a court of summary
jurisdiction is meant a court in which cases are heard and
determined by a justice or justices of the peace, without
the intervention of a jury. Such a court has duties to
perform of two different kinds. It either hears and de-
termines a case in a judicial capacity, or it acts rather in
a ministerial capacity where a prima facie case has been
established, as by issuing a warrant of distress for non-
payment of poor rate, or by committing an accused person
for the decision of a higher court, generally assizes or
quarter sessions. It is to the court acting in the former
capacity that the term "court of summary jurisdiction "
more strictly applies. Ever since the first Institution of^
justices of the peace (see Justice of the Peace), the
tendency of EngUsh legislation has been to enlarge their
jurisdiction and to enable oflfences of a less heinous nature
to be tried in their courts without a jury. This inroad
upon the functions of the jury can only be made by legisla-|
tion. "The common law is a stranger to it, unless in the
case of contempts," says Blackstone. At common law all
ofifences must be proceeded against by indictment, and an
. indictment can only be tried before a jury. Even where
u^ .5ence is created by statute and is unknown to tho
common law the procedure must be by indictment, unless
the statute creating the ofi"ence or some other statute
specially makes it summary. The history of the gradua'
growth of summary jurisdiction will be found in Stephen,
History of the Criminal Law, vol. i. chap. iv. The summary
jurisdiction exercised by justices is the only one of mucii
practical importance. It is unnecessary to do more than
mention in passing the two other kinds narned by Black-
stone, that of the commissioners of taxes for revenue
ofiences and that of the superior courts for Contempt of
Coitrt' (?.«.). A very remarkable case of the latter is the
power given to a judge by 12 Geo. I. c. 29, s. 4, to summarily
sentence to seven years' penal servitude a solicitor practising
after conviction for perjury, forgery, or barratry.
The principal Acts now dealing with summary jurisdiction arc the
Summary Jurisdiction Act, 1848' (11 and 12 Vict. c. 43), one of
what are called Jervis's Acts, and tho Summary Juril.diction Act,
1879 (42 and 43 Vict. c. 49). The former consolidated the law up
to that time of a large number of Acts, but only to a certain extent,
for a considerable number of previous enactments dealing in a
greater or less degree with this subject are still law, tho earliest
being 5 Hen. IV. c. 10. It also amended tho law in several im-
portant particulars. Tho amendment was in the direction of greater
simplicity of procedure, and related to both criminal and only quasi-
criminal matters. The procedure under the Act is shortly this.
In all cases where an information is laid or coniplaint made the
justices are, on proof of a prima facie case, to issue a SnMMOiVs
(q.v.). An information is laid in criminal matters in which tho
decision of tho justices, if adverse to tho dofendant, would be a
conviction. A complaint is made where the deci';ion of tho justices
in such an event would be an order for the pA/tnent of money or
otherwise in what may be called only quasi-criminal matters, e.g.,
claims under the Employers and Workmen Act. If tho summons
is disobeyed, a warrant may (in criminal charges only) issue in tho
first instance at the discretion of a justice. The warrant is good
only within tho local jurisdiction ol the justice issuing it ; and,
if it is required to bo executed in another jurisdiction, it must bo
backed, i.e., endorsed, by a justice of that jurisdiction (unless in
case of a fresh .pursuit, when it is good for 7 miles beyond tlio
bounds of the jurisdiction in which it was issued). Coinnlaints
need rot be in writing ; informations usually are, though the Act
does not make writing necessary. Where a warrant issues in tho
first instance, the information must bo upon oath. In all cases
not otherwise provided for, tho information must bo laid or com-
plaint made witliin six calendar months from tho time at which
tho matter of thj) information or oomplaint arose. Tho hearing
is in open court, and parties m.iy appear by counsel or solicitor. (
If both parties appear, tho justices must hear and dctcrmiuo tlio|
case, if the defendant docs not appear, tho justices may hc.tr and
1 Tliis namo of the Act of 1848 is an example of a title of an Act
confciTcd letrospectively (see Statdtk)., Tho namo was given to it by
tho Act of 1879. In tho same way tho namo of tho Scotch Sumraary
Procedure Act, 1864, was changed to that of tho Suminary Jurisdic-
tion Act, 1864, by tho Summary Jurisdiction Act, 1881.
XXU. — 8i
642
S U M — S U M
determine in liis absence, or may issue a warrant and adjourn
the hearing until his apprehension. If the complainant does not
appear, the justices may dismiss the complaint or adjourn the
hearing. The punishment inflicted may be fine or imprisonment,
or both. Imprisonment as a rule cannot exceed six mouths. The
regular mode of proceeding where a conviction adjudges a pecuniary
penalty, or an order requires payment of a sum of money, is by issue
of a warrant of distress to be levied on the goods of the defendant.
The court usually consists of two or more justices, but the lord
mayor or an alderman of the City of London, a metropolitan police
magistrate, and a stipendiary magistrate have each the authority of
two justices. The Act further makes provision for curing defects
in form in the proceedings for the payment of costs, for removing
difficulties as to the boundaries of jurisdiction, and for various other
matters. The schedule gives forms of proceedings, which are as far
as possible to be followed. The Act of 1879 amended the Act of
1848 in several important particulars, chiefly in the direction of
greater leniency and enlarged jurisdiction and power of appeal. A
greater discretion in the infliction of punishment is conferred on
the court. A scale of impi'isonmeut in respect of non-payment of
a fine or de'ault of distress is fixed at periods varying according to
the amount of the fine unpaid, but in no case exceeding three
months (except in certain revenue offences, where the limit is six
months), and without hard labour, unless hard labour is specially
authoiized by the Act on which the conviction is founded. Time
may be given for payment of money, or it may be ordered to be
paid by instalments, or security may be taken. Summary trial of
children under twelve is allowed at the discretion of the court in
case of any indictable offence other than homicide, unless objection
is made by the parent or guardian. A child cannot on summary
conviction be imprisoned for more than a month or fined more
than 4O3. Summary trial of juvenile offenders between twelve
and sixteen and of adults is allowed in certain crimes mentioned
in the Act, if the accused assents and foregoes Ijs right to trial by
jury.. There are cases in which the court >can deal summarily
with an adult pleading guilty where it would have beenjiecessary
to commit him for trial had he pleaded not guilty. The court may
in trivial cases discharge the accused \vithout punishment or with
only a nominal punishment. Improvements are made in the prac-
tice as to sureties, recognizances (see Surety, Kecogkizance), and
the issue and execution of warrants of commitment and distress.
The issue of such a warrant may be postponed if the court thinks
fit. The wearing apparel and bedding of a person and his family,
and the tools and implements of his trade to the value of £5, are
exempt from distress. Imprisonment may in certain cases be ordered
instead of distress. The right of appeal is much extended. An
appeal now lies from every conviction or order adjudging imprison-
ment without the 'option of a fine where the accused did not plead
'guQty. The appeal by the Act of 1SS4 must he in accordance with
the procedure of the Act of 1879, or of any subsequent Act giving a
right of appeal in the particular case. The appeal is to Quarter
Sessions (q.v.). A summons or warrant is not avoided by the death
or cesser of office of the justice issuiug it. Under the powers of the
Act rules and forms were framed which came into effect on 1st
January 1880. The Summary Jurisdiction (Process) Act, 1881
(44 and 45 Vict. c. 24, applying to Great Britain, but not to
Ireland), gave additional facilities for serving and executing the
process of an English court of summary jurisdiction in Scotland or
of a Scotch court in England, on endorsement in the country where
it is executed. The Summary Jurisdiction Act, 18S4 (47 and 48
Vict. c. 43), repealed a number of enactments rendered obsolete
by the Acts of 1848 and 1879 and explained certain sections of
those Acts as to which doubts had arisen. There are numerous
other enactments dealing less diiectly with the powers of courts of
summary juritdictiou. For instance, the Merchant Shipping Acts
give justices large powers in case of salvage claims and of offences
by stamen. The Criminal Law Consolidation Acts of 1861 give
them limited jurisdiction in larceny, coining, malicious injuries to
property, and oflFences against the person. Among many other
Acts conferring summary jurisdiction are the Army, Bastardy,
Customs, Employers and Workmen, Game, Highway, Licensing,
Post Office, and Vagrant Acts. Some of the later Acts, such as the
Customs and Army Acts, apply to the United Kingdom. The
decision of a court of summary jurisdiction may be reviewed by,
besides appeal, a writ of certiorari, mandamus, or habeas corpus, or
rby statement of a special case.
■Scotland. — Summary jurisdiction in Scotland depends chiefly
npon the Summary Jurisdiction Acts, 1864 and 1881. A court of
summary jurisdiction includes the sheriff court. The Acts follow,
mutatis mutandis, the lines of English legislation. AH proceedings
for summary conviction or for recovery of a penilty must be by
way of complaint according to one of the forms in the schedule to
the Act of 1864. The English summons and warrant are repre-
sented in Scotland by the warrant of citation and the warrant
of apprehension. 'Where no punishment is fixed for a statutory
offence, the court cannot sentence to more than a fine of £5 or sixty
d ^s' imprisonment, in addition to ordering caution to keep the
peace. The Act of 1881 adopts many of the provisions of the
English Act of 1879. In additioK, it confers the discretion as to
punishment to a sheriff' trying by jury in cases where the prosecu-
tion might have been by complaint under the Acts. Appeals from
courts of summary jurisdiction are now mainly regulated by 38 and
39 Vict. c. 62, and proceed on case stated by the inferior judge, f
Ireland. — The principal Acts dealing with the subject are the
Summary Jurisdiction and Petty Sessions Acts, 1851 (14 and 15
Vict. cc. 92, 93). These Acts are more extensive in their purview
than the English Acts, as they form in a great degree a code of
substantive law as well as of procedure. The exceptional political
circumstances of Ireland have led to the appointment of resident
magistrates under 6 and 7 Will. IV. c. 13, and to the conferring
at diCerent times on courts of summary jurisdiction of an authority,
generally temporary, greater than that which they can exercise ia
Great Britain. Recent instances are the Peace Pi'eservation Act, ^
1881, and the Prevention of Crime Act, 1882. The provisions of
the English Act of 1879 as to children were extended to Ireland!
by 47 and 48 Vict. c. 19.
United States. — By Art. III. s. 'z of the constitution the trial
of aU crimes, except in cases of impeachment, is to be by jury.]
By Art. V. of the amendments no person can be held to answer
for a capital or otherwise infamous crime unless on a presentmenti
or indictment of a grand jury. Considerable changes have been|
made by State legislation in the direction of enlarging the powers
of courts of summary jurisdiction. (J. 'Wt.)
SUMMONS {summonitio) is a legal form demanding
the attendance of a person in parliament (see PeeeageI
vol. xviii. p. 462) or before a court of justice. The term aa
it applies to courts of justice is used both in civil and in
criminal procedure, but is not applied universally to aU
cases of demanding attendance. Thus in the Probate^
Divorce, and Admiralty Division the summons is usuallyj
following the civil law, called a "citation," while a summona
to a witness (at least in the superior courts) bears the nam 3
of " subpoena," taken from the initial words of the penal
clause in its Latin form. 'Whatever be the name, th^
principle of law is invariable, that a court before proceeding!
to adjudicate should bring before itself by some formal
legal process all persons interested in the decision or abla
to influence the decision by giving 'evidence as material
witnesses. The oral summons, like the oral pleading, seema
to have been earlier in time than the written form. li
Roman law the oral in jus vocaiio existed centuries beforg
the ymtii,n.^lihellus conventionis. The antiquity and im<
portance of .the summons as a legal form in England iai
shown by the presence of the " sompnour," or summonec
of the ecclesiastical court, as one of the characters ia
the Canterbury Tales, and by the comparative frequency of
" Sumner " as a surname. In civil procedure a summons
may be issued either in the High Court or in an inferior
court, such as a county court. In the High Court all
actions are commenced by writ of summons. In the High
Court the summons (in this case not in the form of a writ)
is also a convenient mode of determining interlocutory,
matters by a judge or somo other officer of the court^
such as a master in the Queen's Bench Division or a chief
clerk in the Chancery Division — ^without the necessity o£
bringing the case into court.
The tendency of recent legislation is towards the increased usff
of the summons as a mode of presenting a case for decision. For
instance, under the Vendor and Purchaser Act, 1874, and the Con*
veyancing Act, 1881, many important questions, even of title to
real property, may be raised on summons. It thus approaches very
nearly to Pleading [q.v.) ; in fact, the definition of pleading iu
the Judicature Act, 1873, s. 100, includes summons. The Rules of
the Supreme Court, 1883, introduced two new forms of summons.—'
(1) the general summons for directions, by which several matters
may be included in a single summons which before the rules must
have been the subject of separate applications ; (2) the originating
summons in the Chancery Division, by which proceedings may be
commenced without writ for certain kinds of relief specified in tha
rules (see Ord. Iv. r. 3). The originating summons to a great
extent supersedes the action for adniiui.'stration of a trust or of the'
estate of a deceased person.' An ordinary summons must be scrvvi^
' A similar practice existed before 1883 under the powers given l>y
15 and 16 Vict. c. 86, but was very limited in its operation, as it
applied siiogl^ to. the^ personal estate of a deceased peisan.
\
S U M — S U M
643
two. »n origiiiating summons seven, clear days before its return.
A ilecisiou on a summons is generally subject to appeaL In the
Chancery Division it is customary to adjourn into court the con-
sideration of a sammons of more than ordinary importance. The
appendix to the Rules of 1883 contains forms of every kind of
summons in the High Court. In the county courts an action is
commenced by plaint and summons. Two kinds of summons are
in nse, — the ordinary and the default summons. The latter is
an optional remedy of the plaintiff in actions for debts or liqui-
dated demands exceeding £5, and in all actions for the price or
hire of goods sold or let to the defendant to bo used in the way of
his calling. It may also issue by leave of the judge or registrar in
other cases, with the single exception tliat no leave can be given
in claims under £5 where the claim is not for the price or hire of
goods sold or let as above, if the affidavit of debt discloses that the
defendant is a servant or person engaged in manual labour. The
advantage of a default summons is that judgment is entered for
the plaintiff without hearing unless the defendant gives notice of
defence within a limited time. A default summons must as a rule
be served personally on the defendant ; an ordinary summons need
not be served personally, but may in most cases be delivered to a
person at the defendant's house or place of business. A summons
18 also issued to a witness in the connty court. Forms of summons
are given in the County Court Kules, 1886. These include certain
special forms used in Admiralty and interpleader actions and in
proceedings under the Charitable Trusts Acts, the Friendly Societies
Act, 1875, and the Married Women's Property Act, 1882. In
criminal law a summons is the mode of securing the attendance of
the defendant before a court of summary jurisdiction, whether it be
sought to obtain a conviction or an order against him. Forms of
summons to a defendant, a witness, or a surety will be found in
the schedule to the Summary J urisdiction Act, 1848, and in the
mles issued in accordance with the Summary Jurisdiction- Act,
1879 (see the article Summary Jurisdiction, supra). Forgery
of a summons or use of any document falsely purporting to be a
summons or professing to act under such a document is punishable
as felony under the County Courts Act, 1846, and the Forgery Act
of 1861.
Scotland. — Summons is a term confined in strictness to the
commencement of an action in the Court of Session. Formerly it
was the mode of commencing an action in the sheriff court, but such,
an action is now commenced by Petition {q.v.). In some Acts of
Parliament, however — e.g., the Citation Amendment Acts — the term
" summons " is certainly used to denote part of the process of an in-
ferior court. The summons is a wi'it in the sovereign's name, signed
by a writer to the signet, citing the defender to appear and answer
the claim. The will of the summons calls upon the defender tc
appear on the proper inducim. A privileged summons is one where
the inducix aie shortened to six days against defenders within Scot-
land (6 Geo. IV. c. 120, s. 53). Defects in the summons are cured
by amendment or by a supplementary summons. The summons
goes more into detail than the English writ of summons, though it
no longer states, as it once did, the grounds of action, now stated
in the condescendence and pursuer's pleas in law annexed to the
Bummoms. The form of the summons is regulated by 13 and 14
Vict c. 36, s. 1, and Schedule A. After the action has been set
on foot by summons, the attendance of the parties and witnesses
is obtained by citation. Tlie Citation Amendment Acts, 1871 and
1882, give additional facilities for the execution of citations in
civil cases by means of registered letters. In cases in a court of
summary jurisdiction the En?lish summons is represented by the
warrant of citation.
SUMNER, Chaeles (1811-1874), American statesman,
was born at Boston, Mass., on 6th January 1811. He
graduated at Harvard in 1830, and studied law with
Judge Story. His natural powers of mind were great, his
habits of study intense, and his success immediate and con-
spicuous. Everything seems to have been expected of
him, and he disappointed nobody. In 1834 he had been
admitted to the bar, was editor of the Amei-ican Jwist,
and was reporting tho decisions of Judge Story. For the
next three years he was a lecturer in the Harvard law
school He then spent three years in Europe, always,
however, studying with an intensity that never relaxed.
Returning, he began the practice of law, but gradually
drifted into politics during the anti-slavery struggle. In
1851 the few " free-soilers " in the Massachusetts legis-
lature offered to vote for Democrats for other officers in
return for Democratic votes for Sumner as United States
senator. Sumner was thus sent to the Senate, to which
he was regularly re-elected for the rest of his life. He at
once became a man of mark, though not of popularity, in
the Senate. His line personal presence, his Somewhat
florid rhetoric, his wealth of citation from learned and
foreign tongues, his wide foreign acquaintance, high cul-
ture, and social standing, seem to have staggered his
Southern colleagues. They could not look down upon him,
and they hardly knew what else to do. A long series of
speeches brought about an assault upon him, 22d May
1856, by Preston S. Brooks, a representative from South
Carolina, in retaliation for Sumner's criticism of Brooks's
uncle, a senator from his State. Brooks found Sumner
writing in the Senate chamber, and beat him so cruelly
that he narrowly escaped death. He was absent from his
place until 1859, and never fully recovered from the effects
of the assault. ^Vhen his party took control of the Senate
in 1861 Sumner became one of its foremost members.
Like Stevens (see Stevens), he propounded a theory of the
relations of the Receding States to the Union which never
was endorsed, but had its influence on the outcome of
reconstruction. In the American Union States are auto-
nomous, but Territories are theoretically under the abso-
lute government of Congress, though in practice Congress
gives them as much self-government as is possible or
prudent. A Territory becomes a State by admission
through an Act of Congress. Sumner held that the
national boundaries of the Union were so fixed that no
State could escape from them by secession, that a State's
secession was merely an abandonment of its Statehood, so
that it f eU back into the condition of a Territory and came
under the absolute government of Congress. This "State-
suicide" theory was in due time condemned by the Supreme
Court, which held that a State could not lose its State-
hood; but Congress had really acted upon it already in
several points of reconstruction. Sumner's peculiar field
was in the Senate committee on foreign relations, of
which he was chairman from 1861 until 1871. It was
during this period, in 1869, that he urged the "indirect"
items of the Alabama claims, sacrificing without hesitation
the English popularity which had always been dear to him.
Within a year or two he felt compelled to oppose the new
administration of President Grant in several particulars.
In the expectation of gratifying the president, the Repub-
lican senators removed Sumner from his chairmanship;
and, like Seward, he passed his later years in general op-
position to the party which he had helped to organize. In
December 1872 he introduced a resolution that the names
of victories over fellow-citizens should be removed from
the regimental flags of the army. For this his State
legislature censured him, but the censure was rescinded
just before his death. He had been from the beginning of
the Civil War the advocate of emancipation and of the
grant of fuU status to the Negroes; and for the last few
years of his Ufe his energies were devoted to forwarding
his Civil Rights Bill, intended to give the freedmen the
same legal rights as tho whites. He died at Washington
on 11th March 1874.
Sumner's speeches were collected in 1850 under the title of Ora-
tions and Speeches, to which was added, in 1856, Jiecmt Speeches
and Addresses. His Works, in twelve volumes, were Issued in 1875.
See also Lester's ZA/e of Sumner, 1874 ; Harsha'a Li/e of Sumner:
and Pierce's Memorial and Lellers of Sumner.
SUMPTUARY LAWS are those intended to limit or
regulate the private expenditure of tlio citizens of a com-
munity. They may be dictated by political, or economic,
or moral considerations. They have existed both in ancient
and in modern states. In Greece, it was amongst tlic
Dorian races, whase temper was austere and rigid, Ibut
they most prevailed. All the inhabitants of Laconia wero
forbidden to attend drinking entertainments, nor could a
Lacedemonian possess a hou.TC or furniture which was the
work of more elaborate implements than tho a.\ii and uaw.
Amongst the Spartans proper, simple and frugal habits o{
B44
SUMPTUARY LAWS
life were secured rather by the institution of the pheiditia
(public meals) than by special enactments. The possession
of gold or silver was interdicted to the citizens of Sparta,
and the use of iron money alone was permitted by the
Lycurgean legislation. " Even in the cities which had
early departed from the Doric customs," says K. O. Miiller,
" there were frequent and strict prohibitions against ex-
pensiveness of female attire, prostitutes alone being wisely
excepted." In the Locrian code of Zaleucus citizens were
forbidden to drink undiluted wine. The jSolonian sump-
tuary enactments were directed principally against the
extravagance of female apparel and dowries of excessive
amount ; costly banquets also were forbidden, and expen-
sive funeral solemnities. The Pythagoreans in Magna
Graecia not only protested against the luxury of their time
but encouraged legislation with a view to restraining it.
At Rome the system of sumptuary edicts and enactments
was largely developed, whilst the objects of such legisla-
tion were concurrently sought to be attained through the
exercise of the censorial power. The code of the Twelve
Tables contained provisions limiting the expenditure on
funerals. The most important sumptuary laws of the
Roman commonwealth were those which foUow. (1) The
Oppian law, 215 B.C., provided that no woman should
possess more than half an ounce of gold, or wear a dress
of different colours, or ride in a carriage in the city or
within a mile of it except on occasions of public religious
ceremonies. This law, which had been partly dictated by
the financial necessities of the conflict with Hannibal, was
repealed twenty years later, against the advice of Cato.
Livy (xxxiv. 1-S) gives an interesting account of the com-
motion excited by the proposal of the repeal, and of the
exertions of the Roman women against the law, which
almost amounted to a female enuute. (2) The Orchian
law, 187 B.C., limited the number of guests at entertain-
ments. An attempt being made to repeal this law, Cato
offered strong opposition and delivered a speech on the
subject, of which some fragments have been preserved.
(3) The Fannian law, 161 B.C., limited the sums to be
spent on entertainments ; it provided amongst other
things that no fowl should be served but a single hen, and
that not fattened. (4) The Didian law, 143 B.C., ex-
tended to the whole of Italy the provisions of the Fannian
law, and made the guests as well as the givers of entertain-
ments at which the law was violated liable to the penalties.
After a considerable interval, SuUa anew directed legisla-
tion against the luxury of the table and also limited the
cost of funerals and of sepulchral monuments. We are
told that he violated his own law as to funerals when bury-
ing his wife MeteUa, and also his law on entertainments
when seeking to forget his grief for her loss in extravagant
drinking and feasting (Plut., SulL, 35). Julius Caesar,
in the capacity of prxfectm moribus, after the African war
re-enacted some of the sumptuary laws which had fallen
into neglect ; Cicero implies (Ep. ad Ait, xiii.' 7) that in
Caesar's absence his legislation of this kind was not at-
tended to. Suetonius tells us that Caesar had officers
stationed in the market-places to seize such provisions as
were forbidden by law, and sent Uctors and soldiers to
feasts to remove all illegal eatables (Jul., 43). Augustus
fixed anew the expense to be incurred in entertainments on
ordinary and festal days. Tiberius also sought to check
inordinate expense on banquets, and a decree of the senate
was passed in his reign forbidding the use of gold vases
except in sacred rites, and prohibiting the wearing of silk
garments by men. But it appears from Tacitus {Ann.,
ui. 5, where a speech is put into his mouth very much in
the spirit of Horace's " Quid leges sine moribus Vanae
proficiunt t "), that he looked more to the improvement of
manners than to direct legislative action for tie restriction
of luxury. Suetonius mentions some regulations made by
Nero, and we hear of further legislation of this kind by
Hadrian and later emperors. In the time of Tertullian
the sumptuary laws appear to have been things of the past
(ApoL, c. vi.).
In modern times the first important sumptuary legisla-
tion was — in Italy that of Frederick II. ; in Aragon that of
James I., in 1234 ; in France that of Philip IV.; in Eng-
land that of Edward II. and Edward III. In 1294 Philip
IV. made provisions as to the dress and the table expendi-
ture of the several orders of men in his kingdom, the most
remarkable of which may be seen in Guizot's Civilisation
en France, leg. 1 5. Charles V. of France forbade the use
of long-pointed shoes, a fashion against which popes and
councils had protested in vain. Under later kings the use
of gold and silver embroidery, silk stuffs, and fine linen wares
was restricted, — at first moral and afterwards economic
motives being put forward, the latter especially from the
rise of the mercantile theory. In England we hear much
from the writers of the 14th century of the extravagance
of dress at that period. They remark both on the great
splendour and expensiveness of the apparel of the higher
orders and on the fantastic and deforming fashions adopted
by persons of all ranks. The parliament held at West-
minster in 1363 made laws (37 Edw. III. c. 8-14) to restrain
this undue expenditure and to regulate the dress of the
several classes of the people. These statutes were repealed
in the following year, but similar .ones were passed again
in the same reign. They seem, however, to have had little
effect, fc? ia the reiga of Richard 11. the same excesses
prevailed, apparently in a still greater degree. Another
•statute was passed in the year 1463 (3 Edw. IV. c. 5) for
the regulation of the dress of persons of all ranks. In
this it was stated that "the commons of the realm, as
well men as women, wear excessive and inordinate apparel
to the great displeasure of God, the enriching of strange
realms, and the destruction of this realm." An Act of
1444 had previously regulated the clothing, when it formed
a part of the wages, of servants employed in husbandry ;
a bailiff or overseer was to have an allowance of 5s. a year
for his clothing, a hind or principal servant 4s., and an
ordinary servant 3s. 4d., — sums equivalent respectively to
50s., 40s., and 33s. 4d. of our money (Henry). Already
in the reign of Edward II. a proclamation had been issued
against the " outrageous and excessive multitude of meats
and dishes which the great men of the kingdom had used,
and still used, in their castles," as well as "persons of
inferior rank imitating their example, beyond what their
stations required and their circumstances could afford";
and the rule was laid down that the great men should
have but two courses of flesh meat served up to their tables,
and on fish days two courses of fish, each course consist-
ing of but two, kinds. In 1363, at the same time when
costumes were regulated, it was enacted that the servants
of gentlemen, merchants, and artificers should have only
one meal of flesh or fish in the day, and that their other
food should consist of milk, butter, and cheese. Similar
Acts to those above mentioned were passed in Scotland
also. In 1433 (temp. James I.), by an Act of a parliament
which sat at Perth, the manner of living of all orders in
Scotland was prescribed, and in particular the use of pies
and baked meats, which had been only lately introduced
into the country, was forbidden to all under the rank of
baron. In 1457 (temp. James II.) an Act was passed
against "sumptuous cleilhing." A Scottish sumptuary law
of 1621 was the last of the kind in Great Britain.
Ferguson and others have pointed out that "luxury " is a terni
of relative import and that all luxuries do not deserve to be dis-
couraged. Roscher ha.« called attention to the fact that the nature
of the niaralent luxury changes with the stage of social develop-
S U M — S U N
645
nient. He endeavours to show that there arc three periods in the
history of Inxury, — one in which it is coarse and profuse ; a second
in which it aims mainly at comfort and elegance ; and a third,
proper to periods of decadence, in which it is perverted to vicious
*nd unnatural ends. The second of these began, in modern times,
with the emergence of the Western nations from the mediscval
period, and in tne ancient communities at epochs of similar transi-
tion. Kosoher holds that the sumptuary legislation which regularly
appears at the opening of this stage was then useful as promoting
the reformation of habits. He remarks that the contemporary
formation of strong Governments, disposed from the consciousness
of their strength to interfere with the lives of their subjects, tended
to encourage such legislation, as did also the jealousy felt by the
liitherto dominant ranks of the rising wealth of the citizen classes,
who are apt to imitate the conduct of their superiors. It is certainly
desirable that Iiabits of wasteful expenditure and frequent and
wanton changes of fashion should be discouraged. But such action
belongs more properly to the spiritual than to the temporal power.
In ancient, especially Roman, life, when there was a confusion of
the two powers in the state system, sumptuary legislation was more
natxiral than in the modem world, in -which those powers have
been in general really, though imperfectly, separated. How far
regulation of this kind could, and might usefully, be carried out
by a spiritual power under purely moral sanctions, and whether
and to what extent social ollices, private as well as public, should
be discrimiiiated by costume, are questions which need not be dis-
cussed at present. Political economists are practically unanimous
in their reprobation of the policy of legislative compulsion in these
matters. In a well-known passage Adam Smith protests' against
the "impertinence and presumption of kings and ministers in
pretending to watch over the economy of private people and to
restrain their expense, being themselves always and without any
exception the greatest spendthrifts in the society." Yet he does
not seem to have been averse to all attempts to influence through
taxation the expenditure of the humbler classes. The modern
taxes on carriages, coats of arms, hair-powder, playing-cards, &c. ,
ought perhaps not to be regarded as resting on the principle of
sumptuary l.-iws, but only as means of proportioning taxation to the
capacity of bearing the bunlen.
Tlie loci ctasslcl on Roman sumptuary laws are Gellius, Koctes AUicsSj ii.
24, and Macrobius, Saturn.j iii. 17. On the similar English legislation Henry's
History of Great Britain may usefully be consulted. One of the best extant
treatmcp*.3 of the whole subject is that by Roscher, in his essay Uebcr den
Liisus, republishrd in his Ansichten der Volkswirthschajt aus dem geschichtlichen
Standpimhe (Sd ed., 1878). (J. K. I.)
SUMY, a district town of Little Russia, in the govern-
ment of Kharkoff, situated 1 25 miles to the north-west of
the chief town of the government, was founded in 165^by
Little Russian Cossacks. It is poorly built, chiefly of
wood, but is an important centre for the trade of Great
Russia with Little Russia, — cattle and corn being sent to
the north in exchange for various kinds of manufactured
and grocery wares. It has a classical pro-gymnasium and
a technical school. Its inhabitants, who numbered 16,030
in 1884, are engaged in commerce, in various kinds of
petty trades, and in agriculture.
SUISr. In the article Astronomy (vol. ii. p. 768 sq.)
the sun has been considered as a member of the solar
system, and references are given to various discoveries
which have been made from time to time relating to its
physical and cliemical constitution. In the present article
we propose to consider the sun as a star, and to state
as briefly as may be the views at present held regarding
its structure, and sub-sequently to refer to the most recent
observations dealing with the physics and chemistry of the
various phenomena which are open to our study.
The sun as ordinarily visible to us, bounded by the
photosphere, is only a small part of the real sun : from
observations made during eclipses it is now known that
outside the photosphere are — first, an envelope, namely the
chromosphere, which is mainly composed of hydrogen, and
outside this another envelope, called the corona, while
there is evidence that outside these, and especially along
the plane of the sun's equator, there is a considerable ex-
tension of matter which may or may not be of the same
nature aa that of which the corona is composed.
These various parts of the solar economy have been
examined by the spectroscope, and from this examination
two widely divergent views have arisen.
According to the first view, the true atmosphere of the
sun is limited by the chromosphere, and the constituents
of that atmosphere consist essentially of the vapours of the
chemical elements recognized on the earth. It will be seen
that on this view the corona and the equatorial extension
observed occasionaUy are merely solar appendages. In
the other view the atmosphere of the sun is extended
to the confines of the- corona, the temperature naturally
increasing as we descend ; and it is held that towards the
photosphere the temperature is so high that the chemical
elements are dissociated into finer forms of matter, so
that descending vapours get more simple, ascending vapours
get more complex, and it is only in the cooler regions of
the atmosphere that vapours resembling those of our ter-
restrial elements can exist, while near the confines of the
corona these vapours give place to solid particles and
masses. Broadly stated, these divergent views have
arisen from the application of two distinct methods of
inquiry. In one method, light coming from every portion
of the sun, and reflected, let us say, by a cloud into the
.spectroscope, gives us a spectrum full of absorption lines,
and these Hues are practically constant from year to year.
In the other method, each minute portion of the solar
economy has been examined bit by bit, and thus we have
the spectrum of the spots, the spectrum of the promi-
nences, the spectrum of the chromosphere, the spectrum
of the corona. AU these spectra vary enormously, not only
among themselves, but from year to year ; and, when we
consider merely the spots and promicences, we may say
that they vary from spot to spot and from prominence to
prominence.
It will be obvious that the true mean density of the
sun cannot be the same on the two hypotheses to which
we have referred. If the atmosphere is practically Limited
by the photosphere, it has been found that the density of
the sun is 1'444, water being taken as unity. If we
include the corona in the sun's atmosphere, and assume
that its height is half a million of miles above the photo-
sphere, then the volvime of the sun is ten times that
bounded by the photosphere, and the density is reduced
to a tenth of the value given above.
We next proceed to discuss the chemical results obtained
by the first method of inquiry to which reference has been
made. For these results we are of course dependent upon
comparisons of the lines given by various incandescent
vapours with the Fraunhofer lines seen in the ordinary
spectrum of the sun. If by such means complete evidence
is afi"orded of the existence of one of our chemical elements
in the sun, it is obvious that no information is given as
to its precise locality ; further, if the high temperatures
used in our laboratories to produce a spectrum should
break up the molecules of the vapours as known to the
chemist into finer ones, and if the temperature of the sun
were to do the same, there would still be ,a considerable
similarity between the sojar and the terrestrial spectrum of
any one substance.
The first (A) of the following tables gives the substances
present in the sun's atmosphere according to (I) Kirchhoff,
and (2) Angstrom and Thal^n.
Table A.
Kirchhoff.
Angstriim
and ThaliJo.
Sodium, Iron, Calcium, Magnesium, Nickel,
Barium, Copper, Zinc.
Sodium, Iron, Calcium, Magnesium, Nickel,
Chromium, Cobalt, Hydrogen, Mangancso,
Titanium.
A subsequent method of inquiry, which was capable of
tracing merely a small quantity, gave the additional sub-.
stances shown in Table B.
646
S U JN
Table B.
£!emenis whose Longest Lines coincide with Fraunhofer Lines.
Certainly
coincident.
Probably
coincident.
Aluminium, Strontium, Lead, Cadmium, Cerium,
Uranium, Potassium, Vanadium, Palladium.
Molybdenum,
Indium, Lithium, Rubidium, Cssium, Bismuth,
Tin, Silver, Glucinnm. Lanthanum, Yttrium
or Erbium.
Whea we come to bring tlis chemical evidence together
pLich has been acquired by the examination of separate
parts of the solar economy, we find, as has been already
hinted, that the apparent similaiity in chemical structure
auggested by the foregoing tables entirely breaks down.
Not only is the chemical nature of each separate solar
phenomenon different from that of any other, but the
facts of observation are in all cases entirely new and
Btrange, so that very little light is obtained towards the
Vmderstanding of them from ordinary laboratory work.
We will consider the chemistry of the chief solar features
in order.
Chemistry of ike Constituent Parts.
Spectra The spectrum of the spots differs from that of the
i>i Spots, ordinary surface of the sun chiefly by the widening of
certain of the Fraunhofer lines in the spot spectrum, —
some being excessively widened. The lines which are
most, widened change from spot to spot and from year
to year. The most extensive sun-spot observations of
this nature have been carried on in Kensington, and the
conclusions derived from 700 observations on spots be-
tween 1879 and 1885 are as follows : —
(1) The spot spectra are very unlike the ordinary spectrum of the
snn : some Fraunhofer lines are omitted ; new lines appear ; and the
intensities of the old lines are changed.
(2) Only very few lines, compajatively speaking, of each chemical
element, even of those which have many amon^ the Fraunhofer lines,
were seen to be most widened. It was as if on a piano only a few notes
tvere played over and over again, always producing a diiferent tune.
(3) An immense variation from spot to spot was observed be-
tween the most widened lines seen in the first hundred obserYa-
tions. Change of quality or density will not account for this
variation. To investigate this point the individual observations
of lines seen in the spectrum of iron were plotted out on sti'ips of
• paper, and an attempt made to arrange them in order, but without
success, for, even when the observations were divided into six
groups, about half of them were left outstanding.
(4) If we consider the lines of any one suhstance, there is as
much inversion between them as between the lines of any two
metals. By the term "inversion" is meant that of any three lines,
A, B, C, we may get A and B without C, A and C without B, B and
0 without A.
(5) Very few lines are strongly affected at the same time in the
same spot, although a great many lines of the same substance may
be affected, besides the twelve recorded as most widened on each day.
(6) Many of .he lines seen in the spots are visible at low temper-
atures (some in the oxy-hydrogon flame), and none are brightened
or unensified when we pass from the temperature of the electric arc
to that of the electric spark.
(7) Certain lines of a substance have Indicated rest, while otner
adjacent lines seen in the spectrum of the same substance in the
same field of view have shown change of wave-length.
(8) A large number of the lines seen in spots are common to two
or more substances with the dispersion employed.
(9) The lines of iron, cobalt, chromium, manganese, titanium,
calcium, and nickel seen in the spectra of spots are usually coinci-
dent with lines in the spectra of other metals with the dispersion
employed, whilst the lines of tungsten, copper, and zinc seen in
spots are not coincident with lines in other spectra.
(10) The lines of iron, manganese, zinc, and titanium most fre-
quently seen in spots are different &'ora. those most frequently seen
ui flames, whilst in cobalt, chromium, and calcium the lines seen
in spots are the same as those seen in flames.
(11) Towards the end of the first series of investigations there
ippeared amcug the most widened lines a few which are not re-
presented, so far as is known, among the lines seen in tha spectra
of terrestrial elements. This change took place when there was a
Ciarked increase in the solar activity.
(12) The most widened lines in sun spots cuange with the sun-
Bpot period.
(13) At and slightly after the minimum the Knes are chieflv
known lines of the various metals.
(14) At and slightly after the maximum the lines are chiefly of
unknown origin.
(15) On the h3rpothesi3 under discussion the change indicates an
increased temperature in the spots at the sun-spot maximum.
The general result is that in passing from minimum to
maximum the lines most affected change from those of the
ordinary chemical elements to lines whose significance are
not known. The accompanying diagram represents graphio-
•EARS IS79-80 IS80-I I8S1-? I88J-S 1883-t 1884-5 f885
GOO
rfMu
ndFtd
T^v^f^a y^Muntfud
•"•Htf-drtd
S^iu.aF»d
e*»ufar»d r^nnarra
Fe
^
^
y
X
J^i/n If -0 tvt*
600
•^
==^
r
/
/
/
«00
/
i
/
«
/
1
/
1
300
200
i %
/ *
i
\
100
I
1
t
1
1
\
Titonutt
"
L.
<:r'v
\
Hidnl
-^
'%.,_
i~
*^**«
Cf*tflT»^
^
Most widened lines, F - b region, in sun-spot spectra.
ally the disappearance of the lines of iron, nickel, and
titanium and the simultaneous appearance of unlaiown
lines in the spot spectra in passing from . mim'Tnnni to
maximum. In the region of the spectrum for which the
curves are drawn six lines were recorded in each observa-
tion, and therefore 600 in each series of 100 observations.'
In the curves the vertical ordinates represent not merely
the number of ' individual lines recorded but the number
of occurrences of lines of ?ach substance. The dotted
curve shows the variation in the frequency of the iron
lines ; at the minimum in 1879 practically all the 600
lines observed were iron lines; towards the end of 1881
they had dwindled down to 30 ; and during the three
foUowing years they feU to 10. The dot and dash curve
shows a similar variation in the nickel lines, and the double
line curve that of the titanium lines during the same
periods. The continuous curve shows the gradual increase
in the number of occurrences of unknown lines in passing
from the minimum in 1879 to the maximum in 1884.
The chromosphere when quite quiescent merely gives
us a spectrum of hydrogen together with a line in the
yellow, which, from its proximity to Dj and T>^ is called
D3. The chromosphere is disturbed in two ways, — first,
by prominences, of which more hereafter, and second, by
the formation gradually and peacefully of domes, which
are of no great height but sometimes extend over large
areas and last for weeks. These last-named phenomena
have been termed " wellings up," the idea being that they
were produced by the gradual uprise of vapours from
below ; but it is clear that the same phenomena might b-3
SUN
647
produced by tue very slow descent of matter from above.
The spectrum of these higher portions of the chromo-
sphere, whether produced from below or above, is more
complicated than the ordinary one. The following table
(C) gives the principal lines which have been recorded up
to 1887:—
1869. Hydrogen D^
1474 (5315-9)
D, D
4933-4
4899-3
4923-1
5017-6
5275
5233-6
5179-9
4921-3 I
6014-8 bright J
After 1869. /4471 ^
B— o )
6019 Titanium,
H
K
All lines.
Unknown.
Magnesium, 3 out of 7 (Thalen).
Nickel, 1 „ 34
■Sodium, 2 „ 8
.. £6
Barium,
Iron,
Unknown,
Tnknown.
460 (Angstrom).
1 out of 201 (Thalen).
I Calcium, 2 „ 74
The first new line in this table is called in spectroscopic
language 1474, because when this work was begun the
only maps available were those made by Professor Kirch-
hoff, and this particular line fell at 1474 on his scale.
Since then these artificial scales have been discarded in
favour of the natural one, w^ch is given by the wave-
lengths of light of different colours. In this the reference
number of the same line is 5315-9, which represents the
wave-length in ten-millionths of a millimetre of that
particular quality of light. After this we observe three
lines of magnesium, only 3 out of 7 ; next a line of nickel,
one only, however, out of 34 ; then two lines of sodium,
although we might naturally expect to get all the 8 lines ;
tien two lines of barium out of 26 ; and so on. Almost
all the other lines have origins which are absolutely un-
known : that is to say, we never get them in our terrestrial
laboratories, and never, therefore, are able to match the
bright lines in the chromosphere of the sun with any
chemical substance. In 1871 the sun was more active,
and this' activity resulted in the addition of new lines, all,
however, absolutely imknown to us, except one, which
represents a line in the spectnim of titanium ; but in that
case we get one line out of 201 in exactly the same way as
■we get two only of iron out of 460. It is most important
to note that practically none of the lines shown in table
C are among those which are widened in spots,
wmii The prominences are of two kinds — those which are
encet' relatively quiet and give almost exclusively the lines of
hydrogen and those in which the motions are as a rule
very violent. The spectrum of the latter class generally
includes a large number of metallic lines ; hence they are
generally called metallic prominences. The first stage of
metallic prominence is usually the appearance of three
lines of the following wave-lengths— 4943, 5031, 5315-9.
As the prominence increases in magnitude and violence
other lines are added, until at times the spectrum seems
full of lines. The rate of uprush of these prominences
sometimes reaches 250 miles per second, or nearly a million
miles an hour, — figures which convey an idea of the
enormoivs energies involved. The lines seen in these pro-
minences, although many are present in the spectra of the
metallic elements, appear with greatly changed intensities :
the lines seen brightest in the prominences are frequently
dim lines in the terrestrial spectrum. Again it may be
remarked that these are not the lines -which arc most
widened in spots. In the case of the spectrum of any one
substance the number of lines Sben usuaUy in the promi*
nencfs is very small.
The general conclusions which have been derived from a
discussion of the prominence observations made by Profs.
Tacchini and Ricco, in connexion with the sun-spot observa-
tions already mentioned, are as follows.
(1) The cliromospheric and prominence spectrum of any one
substance, except in the case of hydrogen, is unlike the ordinary
spectrum of the substance. For instance, -we get two lines of iron
out of 4G0.
(2) There are inversions of lines in the same elements in tbe
prominences, as there are inversions in the spots : in certain pro-
minences we see certain lines of a substance ivithout others ; ia
certain other prominences we see the other lines without the first.
(3) Very few lines are strongly affected at once, as a rule, and
a very small proportion altogether, — smaller than in the case of
spots.
(4) The prominences are less subject to sudden changes than
spots, so far as lines of the same element are concerned.
(5) There is a change in the lines affected according to the sun's
spot period.
(6) The lines of a substance seen in the prominences are those
which in our laboratories become considerably brightened when we
change the arc spectrum for the .spark spectrum.
(7) None of the iron lines ordinarily visible in prominences are
seen at the temperature of the oxy -hydrogen flame. Some of the
oxy-hydrogen flame lines are seen in the spots, but none have ever
been seen iu the prominences.
(8) A relatively large number of the lines ordinarily seen are
of unknown origin.
(9) Many of the lines seen are not ordinarily seen amongst the
Fraunhofer lines. Some are bright lines.
(10) As in the spots the H and K lines of calcium in the ultra-
violet are always bright in the spot spectrum, the other lines of
calcium and ttie other substances being darkened and widened^
so it would appear that the lines H and K of calcium are always
bright iu the prominences iu which the other lines are generally
unaff'ected.
(11) Many of the lines are common to two or more elements
with the dispersion which has been employed.
The spectrum of the inner corona indicates that it is
chiefly composed of hydrogen. All tbe hydrogen lines
are seen in it, and up to a certain height the H and K
lines of calcium, proving the presence either of calcium
or of something that exists in calcium which -we cannot
get at in our temperature.
In the outer corona most of the hydrogen lines dis-
appear ; but one, the green line F, remains for a consider-
able height side by side with the 1474 line, indicating, as
far as we can see where everything is so doubtful, that
the constituents of the outer corona consist most probably
of hydrogen in a cool form and the unknown stuflf which
gives the 1 474 line. We also know that the outer corona
contains particles which reflect the ordinary sunlight to
us, because in 1871 Dr Janssen, and in 1878 Professor
Barker and others, saw the dark Fraunhofer lines in the
spectrum of the corona. We must imagine, therefore, that
some part of that spectrum depends for its existence on
solid particles which not only give a spectrum like that of
the lime-light but have the faculty of reflecting to us
the light of the underlying photosphere. It was also put
beyond all question in the eclipse of 1882 in Egypt that
this corona has another spectrum of its own. There are
bright bands in the spectrum, showing that with these
additions it is not a truly continuous spectriun like that
of the lime- light, and that its origin is therefore in all
probability very complex.
Association and Distribution of Phenomena.
Observations of prominences, spots, and other pheno-
mena which require continuous investigation have been
carefully mado from day to day for several years, and
ono conclusion arrived at is that when and where the
(disturbed) .spots are at the maximum the faculsa and
metallic prominences are also at the maximum. When
the maximum changes from north to south latitude in the
spots it also chan;^es from north to soulii in the metallic
648
SUN
prominences and the faculae. These observations, there-
fore, establish not only an important connexion between
spots, metallic prominences, and faculae but also the fact
of the wonderful localization of these phenomena upon
the sun. The spots are never seen higher in latitude than
40° north or south, and they are invariably seen in smaller
quantity at the equator. Smiilarly, the faculae and metal-
lic prominences do not go much beyond 40'' north or south,
and their minima are also at the equator. But this does
not hold good for prominences of the quiet sort and the
veiled spots, — that is, spots without umbrae or very highly
developed penumbrae. They extend from one pole of the
sun to the other ; hence there must exist a great difference
between metallic and quiet prominences and between dis-
turbed and veiled spots.
Although the more important of these solar phenomena
are limited to certain zones of the sun's surface, and al-
though they vary very violently, they have a cycle or
regular succession of changes, during which the particular
zone of the sun on which they appear alters. When there
is the sniallest number of spots on the sun — that is to say,
■when there is a sun-spot minimum — the spots that appear
are seen in a high latitude, and the latitude decreases
gradually until we arrive at the next minimum. Thus
there are two perfectly distinct spotted areas, one corre-
sponding to the end of the old period, the other to the
beginning of the new period. At the maximum period
of sun spots the latitude of the spot zone is about 1^°
Activity in the solar atmosphere, therefore, appears to
begin in a high latitude — say about 30° or 35° — and very
soon reaches the maximum in about latitude 15° ; then it
gradually dies away until spots, metallic prominences, and
faculae — aU of reduced intensity — cling pretty near to the
solar equator, and at the same time we get a new wave of
activity, beginning again in a high latitude. This asso-
piation of what may be called localized phenomena is quite
in harmony with a similar association of phenomena which
are more or less generally distributed over the whole sur-
face of the sun.
Pores, which are in reality nothing but small sun spots
may occur in any part of the sun, and are always accom-
panied by a slight waviness in the chromosphere. Veiled
^pots — spots which never attain fuU development — are
also imiversally distributed over the sun's surface and are
accompanied by small prominences (see below).
The main periodicity on the sun is that of about eleven
^'ears which elapses between two successive maxima or
minima. When the sun is quietest, there are very few of
tthe ordinary tree-like prominences visible, and there is an
especial dearth of them near the poles and the equator.
There are facula;, but they do not present their usual
ibright appearance, and are confined to the regions between
[latitudes 20° N. and 20° S. On examining the chemical
nature of the materials in the chromosphere at such a
period by means of a spectroscope, we see only the foiu:
lines of hydrogen and the line Dj, whose chemical signifi-
cance we do not know. Practically speaking, there are
no spots visible and the disk appears to be perfectly pure,
except the darkening towards the limb produced by
absorption in the sun's atmosphere. As there are no
spots, or only very small ones in high latitudes, it follows
that there are no metallic prominences. The spectroscope
searching right round the limb of the sun gathers no
indications of violent action — no region giving many lines
— nothing but the simple spectrum of hydrogen. Obser-
vations and photographs of th^ corona taken at solar
eclipses occurring at minimum spot periods indicate that
at two different sun-spot minima the appearances pre-
sented by the corona are very much alike. A drawing
made during the eclipse of 1867, before the application of
photography to solar investigations, exhibits a similar
appearance to an absolutely trustworthy photograph ob-
tained at the eclipse of 1878. At the minimum period
the chief feature is a very great extension of the corona
in the direction of the solar equator, and a wonderfully
exquisite outcurving right and left at both poles. It is
probable that the equatorial extension pictured iij the
above-mentioned photograph is, after all, only a part of
a much more extended phenomenon, one going to almost
incredible distances from the sun itself. At the eclipse of
1878 precaution was taken to shield the eye of the
observer from the intense light of the inner corona, which
is sometimes so bright as to be mistaken for the sun's
limb, by erecting a screen which covered the moon and a
space 12' high around it. The observer. Professor New-
comb, saw on both sides of the dark moon a tremendous
extension of the sim's equator, far greater than that re-
corded in the photographs taken at the same. time. But
the extended portions may have been so delicately illu-
minated that they could not impress their image on the
photographic plate during the time it was exposed, or that
the light itself is poor in chemically active rays. The
extension, as observed by the shielded eye, amounted to
six or seven times the diameter of the dark moon. In a
more favourable situation the same extension, but to a
less extent, was observed without the aid of a screen. At
a sun-spot miriimvma, therefore, there exists a great equa
torial extension of the corona east and west.
The time between the minimum and the maximum sun-
spot periods is three or four years, and that from maxi-
mum to minimum seven or eight years, so that the sun
increases in activity much more rapidly than it afterwards
decreases in passing to the next minimum. Starting,
then, about half way between minimum and maximum,
we find an increased activity in every direction. The
quiet prominences, consisting of hydrogen, are more
numerous, and the faculae are brighter. If at this time
we examine the spectrum of the chromosphere, we find
hydrogen and Dg are not the only constituents : we get
other short lines, the chief being the three lines of mag-
nesium 6j, b„, b^. The spots are more numerous and are
in a lower latitude, having moved from near 35° to about
25°. Metallic prominences now constantly accompany the
spots ; and the number of bright lines visible in their
spectra gradually increases from month to month. These
changes are accompanied by changes in the corona, which
affect not only its form but also its spectrum. At the
minimiiTri spot period the corona gives an almost continu-
ous spectrum, differing only in the presence of a few dark
lines, and occasionally a few not very obvious bright lines,
whence we conclude that at the minimum the corona is
not entirely gaseous. In passing from the minimum to
the maximum the spectrum is no longer continuous : bright
lines begin to appear, emanating from the incandescent
gaseous portions of the corona, and at the same time there
is an increase in brilliancy. At this period there is no
longer any remarksble equatorial extension, although here
and there streamers of strange outlines occur. A drawing,-
of the eclipse of 1858, a period between minimum and
maximum, shows in middle latitudes, both north and south,
four remarkable luminous cones standing with their bases
on the chromosphere. The amount of light and structure
in the corona has increased to such an extent that thij
beautiful double curves seen at the poles at the minimum
are now hidden in a strong radiance.
During the maximum period all the solar forces arp'
doing their utmost, and we see in prominences and spot^,'
and indeed in every outcome of action that we can ref^
to, indications of the most gigantic energies being at
work. The ordinary prominences, instead of clinging t»
s u Jsr
649
the equator, now occur most frequently at the poles. The
faoulEC are brighter and are more widely distributed, and
Ihe chromosphere is richer in lines. The spots at this
period occupy broad zones with mean latitudes of about
18° N. and 18° S. There arc no spots near the poles and
^one near the equator ; but large spots, indicating a state
of violent agitation, surrounded by gigantic faculae, follow
each other in these zones. Each of these indicators of
solar activity is accompanied by a prominence. At this
time also we note the greatest velocities of down-rush in
the vapours which form the spots and of up-rush iu those
which form the prominences. These changes are accom-
panied by corresponding changes in the corona; and,
fortunately, we have photographic records for two periods
of maximum, — 1871 and 1882. In these the streamers,
instead of being limited to the equator or to mid-latitudes,
exist in all latitudes, so that they practically extend to
every part of the sun. Their directions, which may be
called lines of force, are very varied, some being straight
and some curved ; but it is difficult to unravel the appear-
ances, because what we see are only projections of the
actual things, and tliis is especially the case when the sun's
pole is tipped towards or away from the earth to the
greatest extent. In the eclipse of 1882 the corona in-
vlicated a more equal distribution of action than that of
1871, but the general result was the same.
After the maximuni period there is a gradual falling off
of all the various energies, the mean latitudes of the spots
decreasing until they reach 8° N. and 8° S. ; then another
Series of spots breaks out about 35* N. and 35° S. lat., and
the cycle begins anew.
General Theory.
It has been very generally accepted for some time that
gun-spots are depressions in the photosphere, produced by
downfalls of cool material. The following sketch shows
how, if we accept this view and also the hypothesis that
the chemical elements are dissociated in the lower parts
of the solar atmosphere, many of the more important solar
phenomena may be explained and correlated.
We know that small meteorites in our own cold atmo-
sphere are heated to incandescence by friction, that is, by
the conversion of their kinetic energy into heat, and it is
therefore not difficult to imagine that enormous masses,
falling with great velocities through the sun's highly heated
atmosphere, would be competent to give rise to such dis-
turbances as those with which wo are familiar on the sun's
surface. This cool material is produced by the condensa-
tion, in the upper cool regions of the sun's atmosphere, of
the hot ascending vapours produced at the lower levels,
and this is probably the main source of supply of spot-
producing material. The faculie and other disturbances of
the general surface do not precede but follow the formation
of a spot, so that a spot may be considered as the initial
disturbance of the photosphere in the region where it is
observed. Largo spots almost invariably appear first as
little dots, frequently in groups, and then suddenly grow
large. The little dots, according to the view of spot forma-
tion now under discussion, are formed by small masses
which precede the main fall. The heat produced by friction
with the atmosphere and the arrested motion causes up-
rushcs of heated vapours, which eventually cool and con-
dense, and afterwards fall to the photosphere and produce
fresh disturbances. Down-rushes of cool material must tak«
place all over the sun's surface, and, although the most
•violent results of such falls are restricted to certain regions,
minor disturbances are distributed over the whole surface.
These generally distributed phenomena are well known to
be merely ditTcrent degrees of the same kind of energies
that operate in producing the more restricted ones.
We will now review the several phenomena in turOt
b<.{,inning with the most widely distributed.
Besides the general darkening near tlie edge of the sun's disV,.
the surface is seen to b« strangely mottled near the poles, iiea»
the equator, and in fact universally. Moreover, amall black specks,
called granulation or pores, are everywhere visible, and spectro-
scopic examination shows that every one of these is a true spot.
The fine mottlings frequently indicate the existence of powerful
currents iu that tliey take definite directions, sometimes in straight
lines, sometimes in lines suggesting cyclonic swirls. Iu addition]
to the pores spots of a smudgy kind, called veiled spots, are some-'
times seen, and it is probable that in such cases the force of the
down-rush is insufficient to depress the photosphere to an extent
competent to give rise to the ordinary dark spots. Some spots
appear as large pores, that is, they consist of nothing but umbra ;
others appear as well-developed veiled spots, consisting almost en-
tirely of penumbra. The obvious large spots consisting of umbra
and penumbra follow next in order of intensity, and, as has been
previously pointed out, their appearance is confined to definite spot
zones. Minute observation, therefore, shows that the whole of the
sun's surface is traversed by down-rushes of varying intensities,
from almost infinitesimal dimensions to the most powerful that we
can conceive. Some of the ordiuary spots do not appear to be in any
riolent state of agitation : the penumbra and umbra are well de-
fined, and the ridge of faculje round such a spot does not indicate
any disturbance by either lateral or convexion currents. Other
spots, however, indicate very violent commotion, the penumbra
and umbra being tremendously contorted and mixed up. In this
kind of spot the disturbance often affects enormous areas of tho
sun's surface ; one spot in 1851 was 140,000 miles across, and ths
commotions were so great that they could be detected by eye ob-
servation with the telescope. It appears as if the material carried
in the first instance below the level of the photosphere produces
a disturbance in the interior regions, which exhibits itself at the
surface by an increase in the quantity and brilliancy of the sur-
rounding faculse. As a spot dies away it is replaced by faculae,
and these remain long after the spot has closed up. It often
happens that new spots break out in the places occupied by pre-
vious spots. The spot -producing material in its descent is dis-
sociated either before or when it reaches the photosphere, and the
rapidity and energy of the dissociation depend upon the velocity
with which it travels. Gravitation is of course the main factor
operating in the production of a down-rush. The velocity produced
by gravitation in matter falling from great heights above the
photosphere must be very great, and in consequence the kinetio
energy of the moving mass must also be great. The motion is
impeded by friction with the gases in the sun's atmosphere, and
some or perhaps all tho kinetio energy becomes heat. The heat
thus developed must produce sudden expansions, and the initial
down-rush is surrounded by up-rushes along tho lines of least
resistance. The effects of such down-rushes vary in degree accord-
ing to the quantity of matter falling and the height from whicli
it falls.
Equally too there are observed different degrees of the effects of Effects of
up-rushcs. All over the sun's surface are seen domes of faculae, up-ru>K.
eithor separate or in groups, and there is indication that they
are hotter than the rest of the surface, for the bright lines of
hydrogen are seen to surmount them. It is probably owing to this
tliat the chromosphere exliibits a billowy outline when under con-
ditions- of little disturbance. The next condition of increased
action exhibits itself in tho growing complexity of the chemical
nature and of the form of the chromosphere. Occasionally the whole
level of the chromosphere over a large region seems to be quietly
raised, and observation proves this to be due to the intrusion of
other vapours. There is cither a gradual evaporation from tlia
photosphere or a gradual vaporization or expansion of slowly fall-
ing material over large regions, raising the level of the sea of hydro-
gen. Tho chromosphere then appears to contain different layers,
and the lower wo descend towards the photosphere the less wo know
about tho substances tbr-t exist there. Tho next degree of disturb-
ance is seen in what are called the oiti'i:* prominences, wliich very
frequently occur in regions where the beginning of a disturbance has
been previously indicated by the ajjpearanco of domes and metallic
strata. As a rule tho quiet prominences are not very high — not
higher than 10,000 miles— and many of them resemble trees. They
are almost entirely composed of hydrogen, oral least of a substance
which gives some of the linesobservcd in the spectrum of livdi-ogcn.
Such a prominence grows upwards from the photosphere, being liist
of a small height, then getting higher and often brooder, and finally
a kind of condensation cloud may form at tho top. The upwara
velocity of tho gases forming those prominences is seldom very
great. When a promincnco disappears it does not follow that tho
substances of wliich it was composed have also disappeared, onil
there is eviilcnce to show that the apparent disapneaiancc is duo
to a reduction of temperature. Tho most intense degrr,- of octioii
of an up-rush is exhibited by the metallic proniiiionc, s, wliicU
XXII. — 82
650
S U N
contain other substances in addition to liydiogen. Tliey are seen
mounting upwards to enormous heights witli almost incredible
velocities, aud tlieir ascent is accompanied by violent lateral
motions. Such prominences have been seen with an upward
velocity of 250 miles a second, and of a height as great as 400,000
miles. There is also evidence that some prominences consist of
mixed up-rushes and down-rushes, and it may turn out eventually
that this is the case in all the metallic prominences.
According to the gravitation-dissociation theory of the
formation of spots, we ought to find that the effects, in
various degrees, produced by down-ruslios of associated
matter are related to the effects, in like degrees, produced
by the corresponding up-rushes of dissociated materials.
Comparing, tlien, the facts already stated, we have : —
Effects of Down-rush.
Effects of Up-rush.
1. Pores.
2. Veiled spots.
3. Quiet spots.
4. Disturbed spots.
1. Domes.
2. JMetallic strata and small pro-
minences.
X Qiiict prominences.
4. Jletailic prouiiueuces.
It is a fact that the pores and domes are verj' closely associated
over all parts of the sun, and that tlie domes are most prominent
in places previously occupied by spots. All largo spots are seen
to be accompanied by metallic prominences, when observed at the
edge of the sun. There is also a strict relationship between the
intensity of action going on in a spot and the associated prominence,
so much so that a very violent change in a spot on the disk some-
times causes the bright prominence lines to become visible in its
spectrum. The ordinary metallic prominences, as already stated,
may consist of both ascendiug and descending material ; this will
be best understood by likening the whole phenomenon to a splash.
Physics We have previously seen that spots and metallic prominences are
of a verj' intimately connected as regards their occurrence in zones, and
sun-spot this intimacy is easy to explain by supposing things to happen in
cycle. the way here set forth. The height of the solar atmospliere is
greater over the equator than at the poles ; particles condensed on
the outside at the poles have therefore a relatively small velocity
when they fall into the photosphere, and are able to produce only
pores or veUed spots. Over the equator the particles attain a
higher velocity in their fall, but they also have to pass through
a much greater thickness of atmosphere and undergo so much
dissociation that on reaching the photosphere they are incom-
petent to produce spots. In mid-latftudes, therefore, the falls of
condensed particles should be most effective in producing spots.
In this way the absence of spots at the poles and equator is ex-
plained.^one of the best-kno'.vn facts of solar physics. The falls
of the condensed particles, or meteoric matter, into the sun increase
the temperature of the atmosphere over the spots and prominences
which they produce, so that other falls in the same region are not
effective in producing spots on account of the increased "dissociation
.which they must undergo before reaching the photosphere. If the
material condensed in those regions is to produce a spot, it must
be removed to some place where it can reach the photosphere mth-
,^ out being dissociated. Hence from the first appearance of spots
after a sun-spot minimum there is a continual cliange of latitude.
From minimum to minimum there is a regular decrease in the
latitude of spots ; hence it is clear that there must be currents
from the poles towards the equator in the upper atmosphere of the
sun, causing the removal of condensed materials to lower and
relatively cooler latitudes. Assuming the existence of such currents,
we ought to iind that saccessive spots have a tendency to form along
the same meridians, for the polar currents would carry the con-
densed materials to lower latitudes in a nearly meridional direction.
Examination of sun-spot records for 1878-79 shows that there is a
marked tendency for spots to follow each other in meridians. The
existence of such currents is further supported by the outcurviug of
the corona at the solar poles as observed {n several eclipses. If these
currents exist, there must also be compensating currents towards
the poles in the lower parts of the sun's atmosphere, carrying
iiicandescent vapours along with them. Small prominences often
give indication of motion towards the poles which such currents
would produce, and examination of sun-spot records also shows
that the tendency of the proper motion of the spots is polewards.
'Hence, although the existence of these currents has not been
definitely proved, there is strong evidence tliat there exists some
circulation of this nature in the solar atmosphere.
! ^\^len once the falls have commenced, if this hypothesis is true,
they should rapidly increase in intensity, for, as it is the falls which
increase the temperature of the lower atmosphere by the conversion
of their kinetic energy into heat, the more falls there ai-e the more
material will be taken first to the poles and then towards the equa-
tor, and therefore there will be more available spot-forming material.
But we know that this increase in intensity does not go on for ever,
end there must therefore be some regulating influence. The in-
crease of temperature and possibly of the height of the solar atmo-
sphere, due to the increased falls, will eventually become such Uiat
the descending materials are dissociated before they reach the
photosphere. The production of spots must therefore gradually
diminish until they finally disappear and end the spot cycle. ^ At
the minimum period, therefore, pores and veiled spots, duo to leas
powerful energies, are at a maximum.
Records of eclipses, occurring when the sun was quietest, show
that the condensing and condensed materials brought to the equator
by the polar currents probably extend far beyond the true atmo-
sphere of the sun and are there collected, possibly in the form of a'
more or less regular ring the section of which widens towards the
sun, the widest part being within the boundary of the sun's atmo-
sphere. If we assume such a ring under absolutely stable conditions,
there will be no fall of material, and therefore no prominences or
spots. But suppose a disturbance caused, as before, by collisions,
which most likely occur where the particles brought by the polar
currents meet the surface of the ring. These particles then fall
from where the ring first meets the atmosphere on to the photo-
sphere, and form the first sppts. Eclipse records show that this
action takes place about 30" lat. According to this view, there
are usually no spots above 30° lat, because there is no ring, and
because the atmosphere is too low to give the height of fall neces-
sary to produce spots. There are no spots at the equator for the
reason that the condensed matter has to pass for perhaps millions
of miles through strata of increasing temperature, and do not there-
fore reach the photosphere before being dissociated. Accoi'diugly,
we ought to find that at and after the maximum the corona is
brighter and more truly a gaseous body on account of the increased
temperature. This is in strict accordance with eclipse observations
extending over twenty years. According to this view of the solar
economy, the sun ought to give out more heat at a maximum than
at a minimum period, when the number of falls is greatest ; on this
point see the article JIeteorology (vol. xvi. p. 167 sq.).
The Stai's Place among the Stars.
The relative nearness of the sun makes it convenient as
a type of those stars which on account of their great dis-
tance are less accessible to minute observation. If thu;
sun were at a greater distance, its spectrum would become
much fainter and would not show so much detail, but its'
general character would not be altered : its dark lines
would not become briglit ones. In the atmospheres of
the various members of the solar system, including the
earth, there is a very considerable absorption of blue light.'
We know also that this condition applies to the sun.*
The light . we receive under present conditions we call Starlit
white ; but, if its own atmo.sphere and ours were removed ^JV^'o^
or became so changed as to no longer absorb blue light, °— ^
the sun would appear blue. If, on the other hand, the'
blue absorption were enormously increased, so that it'
extended into the green, the sun would appear red, be-
cause every other kmd of Light would be absorbed. If two
kinds of absorption — one in the red, the other in the blue
— were going on together, as they sometimes do in our
laboratories, the sun would then appear green. Althougli
these changes are not of actual occurrence in the sun, we
find each of these conditions represented among the stars.'
In the coloured stars, which may be red, green, or blue,
we are simply dealing with this kind of ab.sorption pheno-^
mena. - This difference in the conditions of absorption in
the stars, however, is by no means the most important •
one : the difference of temperature as indicated by the
spectrum is of primary importance. As in our labora-
tories the spectrum of a substance is changed by a varia-
tion of temperature, and always in a regular way, so the
nature of a star's spectrum furnishes a clue to its probable
state as regards heat. For example, we may submit carbon'
vapour to a low temperature, and we shall then obtain'
what is called a spectrum of flutings; on increasing the
temperature, the flutings are replaced wholly or partially
by lines, according to the amount of increase. • - From'
hundreds of observations of this kind, both on carbon
and other substances, it may be safely inferred that a'
fluted spectrum indicates a lower temperature than a line
spectrum. There are doubtless substances in the sun's'
atmosphere which, although represented. _ by lines in Ua
S U N — S U N
651
speccnim, can be subniitted to low conditions of tempera-
ture so as to give fluted spectra. Tliere can be little doubt,
therefore, that a cooling of the sun would be followed by
a change in its spectrum, which would cease to be one of
lines and become one of flutings. While the sun was
acquiring its present intensely heated state, it must at
some period of its history have been in a condition of
temperature in which its spectrum would consist of flut-
ings, and similarly it must give a fluted spectrum at some
future period when it has further cooled.
Tlie ordinary Fraunhofer spectrum gives tlie sum total of the line
absorptions of all tlic various layers in the sun's atmosphere, but
by examining individual layers just off the edge of the disk we can
single out the absorption lines produced by the lower layers. Thus
the absorption produced by the liottcst layer, the chromosphere —
Jiottest because nearest tlie photosphere— is indicated by its usually
simple radiation spectrum wlien examined in tliis way. If the
sun were made hotter, therefore, the gases which give the simple
■chromosphere spectrum would have a larger sliare in the absorp-
tion, and the main features of the Fraunhofer spectrum would be
the few dark lines corresponding to these bright ones. Tliis being
so, a star which gives practically the same absorption spectrum as
the chromosphere of the sun must be hotter than the average
temperature of the sun's atmosphere,— as hot as the hottest part of
it The bright central part of the sun is not very much less than
the whole volume, but it is so much hotter that it gives out thousand i
of times more liglit than the atmosphere. The cool vapours in the
atmosphere give the dark Fraunhofer lines by their absoi-ption, and
even if they arc hot enough to give bright lines when seen on the
sun's edge they can only reduce the intensity of the dark lines.
Here the difference of area between the disk representing the cen-
tral mass and that representing the sun's atmosphere is very small,
and, the light from the central mass being so much more intense,
wc do not ordinarily see the evidences of radiation, but, in place of
it, the absorption of the atmosphere. If, however, we suppose the
central mass to be very small compared with its atmospdiere, the
total radiation of the atmosphere may be sufficiently powerful to
overcome the intensity of the light from the smaller central part,
EC that the spectrum of such a star would contain bright lines
Trom the exterior mi.ved up with the dark lines from the interior.
The spectrum of a star, therefore, does not always depend upon its
total diameter, but upon the relative diameters of the central mass
and the outer atmosphere. It is a question of sectional areas.
teUar Observations of the spectra of a large number of stars show that,
jcctra. although there is a gicat difference between individual spectra,
they still admit of arrangement in family groups. While some
stars give line absorption spectra, others give fluted spectra, and
others again give bright lines. They may bo conveniently arranged
as follows : —
, few)
Example.
Sun, Capella,
f,,..„ T ( Stars whose spectra consist of a lew i . t. „
Cl^s^I \ thick absorption lines. } o LjTse.
riflss n i Stars whose spectra consist of a large }
\ numhtr of fine absorption lines. J
r«i«*- 7TT (Stars with fluted spcctr.a, the maxima) -.ma t,t
*''*""' 1 of the flutings being towards the red. f !•'- ochj.
^i„.-„ rv* i Stars with fluted spectra, the maxima ) _ rt.-., -
C^^^ \ being towanls the blue. ^ o Ononis.
( Stnrs wliose spectra contain bright lines, \
Class V i — (a)of hydrogen, (&) of unknown sub- }■ j3 I^se.
(, stances. )
This classification probably represents the stars in order of tcm-
peratHre, class I. being the hottest.
Although different stars may contain lines of identical wave-
lengths, the thickness of these lines is very liable to variation in
passing from one star to another. The thickest lines in the solar
spectrum arc 11 and K in the ultra-violet, both of equal thickness;
on passing to some of the stars, however, we find H broad with K
thin, and in others II without K. This is similar to what occurs
in our laboratories when wc study the spectrum of calcium, the
substance which gives the lines H and It : at the temperature of
tlie electric arc the blue lino of calcium is very intense, while H
and K are scarcely visible ; but on passing to a higher temperature,
that of the induction spark, II and K appear. In those stars which
give H without K, namely, those in class I., it is probable that
there is a very high temperature competent to separate H and K,
just as H and K were conjointly separated from the blue line. A
further indication of high temperature in the stars belonging to
class I. is that the few Tines wliich do occur in their sncctra are
almost the exact counterparts of those which occur in tno hottest
l.tyer of the sun, hydrogen lines being especially prominent. Tho
passage from class I. to class II. is by no means sudden : there are
stars with every gradation of broad and fine lines. It will readily
l>e understood that tho stars of class II. arc probably not so hot as
those belonging to class I., and the change in the spectrum is
supposed to be" due to new combinations of the original suhstancta,
rendered possible by a reduction of temperature ; that is, new lines
are formed at the expense of the old ones. The hydrogen lines
are very prominent in class 11., though not so intense as in class I.
The stars of these two classes may be grouped together and called
hydrogen stars. Stars belonging to class 111. exhibit unmistakable
evidence of carbon vapour. Sodium and iron are also often present.
All the stars in this class, of which fifty-five are -known, agree in
having a reddish tijit. They arc usually faint, and seldom exceed
the fourth magnitude. There is evidence of the existence of carbon,
vapour in the siiu's atmosphere, depending upon one solitary
fluting, and hence stars of this class probably represent what the
sun would become if it were cooled. Class III. therefore represents
a Icnvcr temperature than classes II. and I. Class IV., containing
475 known members, includes the stars giving fluted spectra with
the darkest edges of tho flutings towards the violet. 'The origin
of the substances of which they are mainly composed is not at
present known. All tho principal bauds are absolutely unchanging
in position, although there is considerable variation in the inten-
sities. The bands in the spectrum appear to result from tho
rhythmical vibrations of the same substance, probably a complex
one. Besides this unknown substance, there are also metallic lines
in many of the stars, the complete spectrum consisting of ths
banded spectrum superposed upon the line spectrum. The metallic
lines are generally seen in the spectra of sodium, iron, magnesium,
or calcium ; the hydrogen lines are very inconspicuous.
These considerations suggest the question of stellar evolution.^
Comets and nebula; are now supposed to consist of clouds of stones
or small meteorites, and the difference between their spectra may
be due to a difference of temperature, that of the nebulte being
highest. Comets ordinarUy give the spectrum of carbon, and, u
we imagine such cometary matter to surround a central bright
nucleus, we have the spectrum of a star of the third class. On
the nebular hypothesis, starting with ordinary cometary materials,
the small masses resulting from the first condensations gravitate
towards each other, and their energy becomes heat by the retardation
of their motion on coming in contact. As soon as the condenseilj
mass is hot enough, it gives a fluted spectrum, like stars of the third
class. As the energy of condensation increases, the temperature ia
raised and the spectrum passes from that of a third class star tON
that of a second class star, and then to that of a first class starJ
On the subsequent cooling of what is then a star the successiva
stages will be again passed through in inverse order. According to
this view, we ought to find fewer hydrogen stars than carbon stars,
because every star is a carbon star at two periods of its existence,
but a hydrogen star only once. On this point, however, nothing
definite can be stated, as the stars of classes I. and II. have, in con-
sequence of their greater brightness, received more attention than
carbon stars.
In 18G6 a star of the tenth magnitude in the constellation New and
Corona suddenly flashed up into a star of nearly the first magni- variabl*
tude ; its spectrum as a tenth magnitude star differed from its stars
s|)ectrum as a first or second, — the latter containing bright lines
of hydrogen. In about a month it again became a tenth magni-
tude star and appeared as if nothing had happened to it. Therd
can be little doubt that here there was a sudden increase of tem-
perature, as evidenced by the spectrum becoming like that of
the chromosphere of the sun. Ten years afterwards a new star
appeared in Cygnus ; it had never been seen before, but appeared
suddenly as a third or fourth magnitude star. In about a year it
giadually dwindled down to tho tenth magnitude, and its spectrum
became that of a nebula. This mass was at a stellar distance, but
it cannot be considered to have been a large mass of incandescent
material, for in that case it would have taken millions of years,
instead of only one, to cool down to the tenth magnitude. A.
possible explanation of most of the new and variable stars is to ha
found in the meteorite theory : the innumerable components of
one group of meteorites colliding with those of another groufi
would be competent to give out light sufficient to make tho whole
appear as a star. Each meteorite gives only a little light, Tjut tho
total must be very considerable. Tho new star in Corona, and!
similarly all new stars, may have been tho result of a collision oi
two groups of meteorites. Tlicy die out quickly because tho com-
ponents are small and fur apart The sudden increase in the bril-
liancy of the star in Cygnus would be produced by a collision of
a meteor swarm with the star already existing. (J. X. L.)
SUN-BIRD, a name more or less in use for many
years,! and now generally accepted as that of a group of;
' Certainly since 1826 (r/ Stephens, Oen. Zoology, xiv. pt. 1, p.-
229). Swainson {Nat. Bist. and aastif. Birds, i. p. 145) says th«y
arc " so called by tho natives of Asia in allusion to tHoir splcniUd nn(^
shining plumage," but gives no hint .as to tho nation or langu.igo
wherein the name originated. By tho French they have l>ccn muoW
longer known oa "Souim»nga.<i," Jrora tho Madagascar name of OBO o(
the snccics given in 1658 by Kl.tcourt as Soumangha.
652
S U N — S U N
over 100 speotes of small birds, but when or by wliora it
was first applied is uncertain. Most of them are remark-
nble for their gaudy plumage, and, though those knoivii to
the older naturalists were for a long while referred to the
genus Certhia (Teee-creepee, q.v) or some other group, they
are now fully recognized as forming a valid Family Nee-
lariniida:, from the name Nedariyiia invented in 1811 by
Illiger. They inhabit the Ethiopian, Indian, and Aus-
tralian Regions,! ^nd, with some notable exceptions, the
species mostly have but a limited range. They are con-
eidered to have their nearest allies in the Meliphagidx
[cf. Honey-eater, vol. xii. p. 139) and the members
of the genus Zosterops ; but their relations to the
last require further investigation. Some of them are
called " Humming-birds " by Anglo-Indians and colonists,
but with that group, which, as before indicated (Hctm-
teCNG-BiED, vol. xii. p. 357), belongs to the Picarix, the
gun-birds, being true Passeres, have nothing to do.
Though part of the plumage in many Suu-birds gleams
v/ith metallic lustre, they owe much of their beauty to
feathers which are not lustrous, though yet almost as vivid,^
and the most wonderful combination of the brightest
tolours — scarlet, purple, blue, green, and yellow — is often
peen in one and the same bird. One group, however, is
dull in hue, and but for the presence in some of its mem-
bers of yellow or flame-coloured precostal tufts, which are
very characteristic of the Family, might at first sight be
thought not to belong here. Gracefid in form and active
in motion, Sun-birds flit from flower to flower, feeding
chiefly on small insects which are attracted by the nectar ;
but this is always done while perched, and never on the
^ng as is thg habit of Humming-birds. The extensible
tongue, though practically serving the same end in both
groups, is essentially diflferent in its quasi-tubular structure,
and there is also considerable difference between this organ
in the Nedariniidx and the Meliphagids.^ The nests of
the Sun-birds, domed with a penthouse porch, and pensile
from the end of a bough or leaf, are very neatly built.
The eggs are generally three in number, of a dull white
covered with confluent specks of greenish grey.
The Nedariniidx form the subject of a sumptaous
Monograph by Capt. Shelley (ito, London, 1876-1880), in
the coloured plates of which full justice is done to the
varied beauties which these gloriously arrayed little beings
display, while, almost every available source of information
having been consulted and the results embodied, the test
leaves little to be desired, and of course supersedes a'll that
had before been published about them. This author
divides the Family into three subfamilies : — Neodrepaninx,
consisting of a single genus and species peculiar to Mada-
gascar; Kectariyuina; containing 9 genera, one of which,
Cinnyris, has more than half the number of species in the
whole group; and .4 ?-ac7mo<Aemia (sometimes known as
'' Spider-hunters "), with 2 genera including 1 1 species —
all large in size and plain in hue. To these he also adds
the genus Promerops,* composed of 2 species of South-
African birds, of very diS'erent appearance, and the afiinity
of which to the rest can as yet hardly be taken as proved.
According to Mr Layard, the habits of the Cape Promerops,
its mode of nidification, and the character of its eggs are
very iinlike those of the ordinary Nedariniidx:. In the
' Oue species occurs in Balucliistan, which is perhaps outside of the
Indi.au Kegion, but the fact of its being found there may be a reason
for includiug that country within the Region, just as the presence of
another species in tlie Jordan valley induces zoographers to regard the
Guiir as an outlier of the Ethiopian Region.
= Cf. G-adow Proc. Zool. SocUty, liii, pp. 409^21, ris. rsrii.
xxviii.
' Cf. Gadow, Proc. Zool. Society, 1SS3, pp. 62-69, pi. nl
* According to Brisson (OrnilJw'.ogi'., ii. p. -160), this name was the
invention of Reaumur. It seems to have become Anglicized.
British Museum Catalogue of Birds (vol. ix. pp. 1-126, and
291) Dr Gadow has more recently treated of this Family,
reducing the number of both genera and species, though
adding a new genus discovered since the publication of
Capt. Shelley's work. (a. n.)
SUX-BITTERN, otherwise the Catjrale,' the Eury-
pyga hdias of ornithology, a bird that has long exer-
cised systematists and one whose proper place can
scarcely yet be said to have been determined to every-
body's satisfaction.
According to Pallas, who in 1781 gave (iV. nordl. Bcytrdge, iu pp.
4S-54, pi. 3) a good description and fair figure of it, calling it the
" Suriuamische Sonucnreygcr," Ardea Iiclias, the first author ta]
notice this form was Fermin, whose account of it, under the name
of "Sonnenvogel," was published at Amsterdam in 1759 {Descr.,
ic, de Surinam, ii. p. 192), but was vague and meagi-e. In 1772,
however, it was satisfactorily figured and described in Rozier's
Observations sur la Physique, &c. (v. pt. 1, p. 212, pi. 1), as the Petit
Paoii dcs roscaux — by which name it nas known in Cayenne.' A
•tf-K|l«}9»K^^^/^^'
Fig. 1. — Sun-Bittern {Eii,iipyga lielias).
few years later D'Anbenton figured it in his well-known series (Pu
Fill., 7S2), and then in 1781 came Buffon {R. N., Oiseaux,vm. pp.
169, 170, pi. xiv. ), who, calling it "Le Caurile ou petit Paon des
roses," aimounced it as hitherto nndescribed, and placed it among
the Rails. In the same year appeared the above-cited papei by
Pallas, who, notwithstanding his remote abode, was better informed
as to its history than his great contemporary, whose ignorance,
real or affected, of his fellow-countrj'man's priority in the field is
inexplicable ; and it must have been by inadvertence that, writing
"roses" for "roseairx," Buffon turned the colonial name from one
that had a good meaning into nonsense. In 1783 Boddaert, equally
ignorant of what Pallas had done, called it Scolopax Solaris,'' and
in referring it to that genus he was followed by Latham {Synopsis,
iii. p. 156), by whom it was introduced to English Teaders as the
" Caurale Snipe." Thus within a dozen j-ears this bird was referred
to three perfectly distinct genera, and in those days genera meant
much more than they do now. Kot until 1811 was it recogniied
as forming a genus of its own. This was done by Illiger, whose
appellation FAinjpyga has been generally accepted.
'The Sun- Bittern is about as big as a small Curlew, biit with
much shorter legs and a rather slender, slightly decurved bill, blunt
at the tip. The wings are moderate, broad, and rounded, the tail
rather long and broad. The head is black with a white stripe over
and another under each eye, the chin and throat being also white.
The rest of the plumage is not to be described in a limited space
otherwise than generally, being variegated with black, brown, chest-
nut, bay, buff, giey, and white — so mottled, speckled, and belted
^ A name, says Buffon, intended to mean RUle d queue, that is, s
tailed Rail.
* This figure and description were repeated in the later issue of this
work in 1777 (i. pp. 679-6S1, pi. 1).
' Possibly he saw in the bird's variegated plumage a resemblance to
the Painted Snipes, Rhynchaea. His specific name shows that le must
have kno\vn how the Dutch in Surinam called it.
S U N — S U N
653
«itber in wave-like or zigzag forms as somewhat to resemble certain
moths. The bay colour forms two conspicuous patches on each
winp, and also an antepenultimate bar on the tail, behind which is
a Bub'terrainal band of black. The irides are red ; the biU is greenish
olive • and the legs arc pale yellow. As in the case of most South-
American birds, very little is recorded of its habits in freedom,
except that it frequents the muddy and wooded banks of rivers,
feeding on small fishes and insects. In captivity it soon becomes
tame, and has several times made its nest and reared its young
(which, when hatched, are clothed with mottled down ; Proc. Zool.
Society, 1866, p. 76, jil. ix. fig. 1) in the Zoological Gardens
(London), where examples are generally to be seen and their plaint-
ive piping heard. It ordinarily walks with slow and precise steps,
keeping its body in a horizontal position, but at times, when ex-
cited, it will go through a series of fantastic performances, spreading
its broad wings and tail so as to display their beautiful markings.
This species inhabits Guiana and the interior of Brazil; but in
Colombia and Central America occurs a larger and somewhat
differently coloured form which is known as E. major.
For a long while it seemed as if Eurypyga had no near ally, but,
on the colonization of New Caledonia by the French, an extremely
curious bird was found inhabiting most parts of that island, to
which it is peculiar. This the natives called the Kagu, and it is
Flo. 2. — Kagn' {Rhinochelus jttiatus).
the Rhinochelus jubalus of ornithology. Its original describers,
MM. Jules Verreaux and Dcs Murs, regarded it first as a Heron and
then as a Crane {Rev. ct Mag. de Zoologie, 1860, pp. 439-441, pi.
21 ;' 1862, pp. 142-144) ; but, on Mr George Bennett sending two
live examples to the Zoological Gardens, Mr Bartlett quickly de-
tected in them an affinity to Eurypyga (Proc. Zool. Society, 1862,
pp. 218, 219, pi. XXX.), and in duo time anatomical investigatjoh
showed him to bo right. The Kagu, however, -would not strike
the ordinary observer as having much outward resemblance to the
Sun-Bittern, of which it has neither the figure nor posture. It is
rather a long-legged bird, about as largo as an ordinary Fowl, walk-
ing quickly and then standing almost motionless, with bright red
bill and legs, large eyes, a full pendent crest, and is generally of a
light slate-colour, paler beneath, and obscurely barred on its longer
wing-coverts and tail with a darker shade. It is only when it
spreads its wings that these are seen to be marked and spotted
with white, rust-colour, and black, somewhat after the pattern of
those of the Sun-Bittern. Like that bird too, the Kagu will, in
moments of excitement, give up its ordinary placid behaviour and
execute a variety of violent gesticulations, some of them even of a
more extraordinary kind, for it will dance round, holding the tip
of its taU or of one of its wings in a way that no other bird is known
to do. Its habits in its own country were described at some length
in 1863 by M. Jouan {Mim. Soc. Sc. Nat. Clurbourg, ix. pp. 97 and
235), and in 1870 by M. Mario {Actes Soc. Linn. Bordeaux, xxvii. pp.
323-326), the last of whom predicts the speedy extinction of this
interesting form, a fate foreboded also by the statement of Messrs
Layard {Ibis, 1882, pp. 634, 535) that it has nearly disappeared
from the neighbourhood of the more settled and inhabited parts.
The internal and external structure of both these re-
markable forms has been treated in much detail by Prof.
Parker in the Zoological Proceedings (1864, pp. 70-72) and
Tranaacliom (v\. pp. 501-521, pK 91, 92 ; x. pp. 307-310,
pi. 51, fig.s. 7-9), as also by Dr Murio in the latter work
(viL pp. 465-492, pis. 56, 67), and the result of their
researches shows that they, though separable as distinct
Families, Eurypygidx and Ehinochetidse, belong to Prof.
HiLxley's Ceranomorphse, of which they must be deemed
the relics of very ancient and generalized types. Their
inter-relations to the Rallidx (Rail, vol. xx. p. 222),
Psopkiidx (Trumpeter, q.v.), and other groups there ia
not space here to consider, any more than there is to specu-
late on the bearings of their geographical position. It ia
only to be remarked that the eggs of both Eurypyga and
Rhinochetus have a very strong RaUine appearance — ■
stronger even than the figures published {Proc. Zool.
Society, 1868, pi. xii.) would indicate. (a. n.)
SUNDA ISLANDS, the collective name of the whola
series of islands in the East Indian Archipelago which
extend from the peninsula of Malacca to New Guinea.
They are divided into the Great Sunda Islands — i.e.,
Sumatra, Java, Borneo, Celebes, Banca, and Billiton, with
their adjacencies — and the Little Sunda Islands, of which
the more important are Bali, Lombok, Sumbawa, Flores,
Sandalwood Island, Adanara, Solor, Savu, Pantar, ic.
Sunda Strait is the channel separating Sumatra from
Java, and uniting the Indian Ocean with the Java Sea.
It is 15 miles broad between the southmost point of
Sumatra and the town of Anjer in Java. Right in the
middle is the low-lying well-wooded island of Dwars in
den Weg, otherwise Middle Island or Sungian. In 1883
Sunda Strait was the scene of the most terrific results of
the eruption of Krakatoa, a volcano on the west side of
the strait. The greater part of the island of Krakatoa
was destroyed and two new islands, Steers Island and
Calmeyer Island, were thrown up.
SUNDARBANS. See Ganges, vol. x. p. 68.
SUNDAY, or The Lord's Day (i; tou fjX'iov fijxipa, dies
Solis; ij KvptaKT] I'jjJ-epa, dies dominica, dies dojninicus^).
According to all the four evangelists, the resurrection of
our Lord took place on the first day of the week after His
crucifixion (>; iJ-ia [twv] (Ta/Sfidriov : Matt, xxviii. 1, !Mark
xvi. 2, Luke xxiv. 1, John xx. 1 ; irpwrrj o-ayS/iarov : Mark
xvi. 9), and the Fourth Gospel describes a second appear-
ance to His disciples as having occurred eight days after-
wards (John XX. 2C). Apart from this central fact of the
Christian faith, the Pentecostal outpouring of the Spirit,
seven wcek.s later, described in Acts ii., cannot have failed
to give an additional sacredness to the day in the eyes of
the earliest converts.^ Whether the primitive church in
Jerusalem had any special mode of observing it in its daily
meetings held in the temple (Acts ii. 4G) wo cannot tell ;
but as there is no doubt that in these gatherings the re-
currence of the Sabbath was marked by appropriate Jewish
observances, so it is not improbable that the worship on the
first day of the week had also some distinguishing feature.
Afterwards, at all events, when Christianity had been car-
ried to other places where from the nature of the case daily
meetings for worship were impossible, the first day of the
week was everywhere sot apart for this purpose. Thus
Acts XX. 7 shows that the disciples in Troas met weekly
on the first day of the week for exhortation and the break-
ing of bread ; 1 Cor. xvi. 2 implies at least some observ-
ance of the day ; and the solemn commemorative character
it had very early acquired is strikingly indicated by an
incidental expression of the writer of the Apocalypse (i.
10), who for the first time gives it that name (" the Lord'a
day ") by which it is almost invariably referred to by all
writers of the century immediately succeeding apostolic
• The Teutonic and Scandinavian nations ndopl the former designa-
tion (.Sunday, Sonnlag, Stindag, kc), the, Latin nations tho latter
(Dimanche, Domenica, Domingo, &c. ).
- ' From an expression iu the Epistle of Barnabas (c 16), it wrjuld
almost Rcera as if the ascension also was believed by some to bavo
taken place on a Sunday,
654
S U N D A i:
times.^ Among the indications of the nature and univei
sality of its observance during this period may be men-
tioned the precept in the (recently discovered) Teaching of
the Apostles (c. 1-1) : "And on the Lord's day of the Lord
(/cara KvpiaKyjv Kvplov) come together and break bread
and give thanks after confessing your transgressions, that
J^our sacrifice may bo pure." Ignatius (Ad Magn., c. 9)
Speaks of those whom be addresses as "no longer Sab-
batizing, but living in the observance of the Lord's day
{Kara. KvpiaK^jv fuJi'rts), on ■which also our life sprang up
again. "2 Eusebius {H.E., iv. 23) has preserved a letter
of Dionysius of Corinth (175 a.d.) to Soter, bishop of
Rome, in which he says : " To-day we have passed the
Lord's holy day, in which we have read your epistle";
and the same historian {H.E., iv. 26) mentions that Jlelito
of Sardis (170 a.d.) had written a treatise on the Lord's
day. Pliny's letter to Trajan in which he speaks of the
meetings of the Christians " on a stated day " need only be
aOuded to. The first writer who mentions the name of
Sunday as applicable to the Lord's day is Justin Martyr ;
this designation of the first day of the week, which is of
heathen origin (see Sabbath, vol. xxi. p. 126), had come
into general use in the Roman world shortly before Justin
Wrote. The passage is too well known to need quotation
[Apol. i., 67) in which he describes how " on' the day called
Sunday " town and country Christians alike gathered to-
gether in one place for instruction and prayer and charitable
bfferings and the distribution of bread and wine; they
ihus meet together on that day, he says, because it is the
first day in which God made the world, and because Jesus
Christ on the same day rose from the dead.
As long as the Jewish Christian element continued to
have any prominence or influence in the church, a tendency
tnore or less strong to observe Sabbath as weU as Sunday
Would of course persist. Eusebius {H.E., iii. 27) men-
tions that the Ebionites continued to keep both days, and
there is abundant evidence from Tertullian on\^ards that
so far as public worship and abstention from fasting are
concerned the practice was widely spread among the Gentile
churches. Thus we learn from Socrates {H.E., vi. c. 8) that
in his time public worship was held in the churches of
Constantinople on both days ; the Apostolic Canons (can. 66
[65]) sternly prohibit fasting on Sunday or' Saturday (ex-
cept Holy Saturday) ; and the injunction of the Apostolic
Constitutions (v. 20; cp. ii. 59, vii. 23) is to "hold your
solemn assemblies and rejoice every Sabbath day (except-
ing one), and every Lord's day." In the primitive church
the social conditions were such as hardly to admit of the
question being raised, in Gentile circles at any rate, as to
the manner in which either the Lord's day or the Sabbath
ought further to be kept after the duty of congregational
worship (usually early in the morning or late in the even-
ing) had been discharged ; but the whole matter was
placed on aa entirely new footing when the civil power,
by the constitution of Constantino mentioned below, began
to legislate as to the Sunday rest. The fourth command-
ment, holding as it does a conspicuous place in the decalogue,
the precepts of which could not for the most part be re-
garded as of merely transitory obligation, had never of
course escaped the attention of the fathers of the church ;
but, remembering the liberty given in the Pa aline writings
r ' In the Epistle of Barnabas already referred to (c 15) it is called
' ' the eighth day " : " We keep the eighth day with joyfulness, the day
also in which Jesus rose again from the dead." Comp. Justin Martyi',
DM. c. Tryph., c. 138.
' The longer recension runs : "But let every one of you keep the
Sabbath after a spii tual manner. , , . And after the observanoe of
the Sabbath let ever} friend of Christ keep the Lord's day as a festiTal,
the resurrection day, the queen and chief of all the days." The writer
finds a reference to the Lord's day in th« titles to Pss. vi. and xu.,
wiicb are "set to the eightlj."
" in respect of a feast day or a new moon or a Sabbath "
(Col. ii. 16 ; cf. Rom. xiv. 5, Gal. iv. 10, 11), they usually
explained the "Sabbath day" of the commandment as
meariing the new era that had been • introduced by the
advent of Christ, and interpreted the rest enjoined as mean-
ing cessation from sin.^ But, when a series of imperial
decrees had enjoined with increasing stringency an ab-
stinence from labour on Sunday, it was inevitable that the
Christian conscience should be roused on the subject of the
Sabbath rest also, and in many minds the tendency would
be such as finds expression in the Apostolic Constitutions
(viii. 33) : " Let the slaves work five days ; but on the
Sabbath day and the Lord's day let them have leisure to
go to church for instruction in piety." There is evidence
of the same tendency in the opposite canon (29) of the
council of Laodicea (363), which forbids Christians from
Judaizing and resting on the Sabbath day, and actu-
ally enjoins them to work on that day, preferring the
Lord's day and so far as possible resting as Christians.
About this time accordingly we find traces of a disposi-
tion in Christian thinkers to try to distinguish between a
temporary and a permanent element in the Sabbath day
precept ; thus Chrysostom (10th homily on Genesis) dis-
cerns the fundamental principle of that precept to be that
we should dedicate one whole day in the circle of the week
and set it apart for exercise in spiritual things. The view
that the Christian Lord's day or Sunday is but the Chris-
tian Sabbath deliberately transferred from the seventh to
the first day of the week does not indeed find categorical
expression till a much later period, Alcuin being apparently
the first to allege of the Jewish Sabbath that " ejus ob-
servationem mos Christianus ad diem dominicam compe-
tentius transtulit " (compare Decalogue, vol. vii. p. 17).
But the subjoined sketch will incidentally show how sooa
and to how large an extent this idea has influenced the
course of civil legislation on the subject.
Laio relating to Sunday,
The earliest recognition of the observance of Sunday as a legal
duty is a constitution of Constantino in 821 AD., enacting that
all courts of justice, inhabitants of tojvns, and workshops were to
be at rest on Sunday {veneraiili die Solis), with an exception in
favour of those engaged in agricultural labour. This was the first
of a long series of imperial constitutions, most of which are incor-
porated in the Code of Justinian, bk. iii. tit. 12 {De Feriis). The
constitutions comprised in this title of the code begin with that of
Constantine, and further provide that emancipation and manumis-
sion were the only legal proceedings permissible on the Lord's day
(die dominico), though contracts and compromises might be made
between the parties where no intervention of the court was necessary.
Pleasure was forbidden as well as business. Ko spectacle was to
be exhibited in a theatre or circus. If the emperor's birthday fell
on a Sunday, its celebration was to be postponed. The seven days
before and after Easter were to be kept as Sundays, In Cod. i. 4,
9, appears the humane regulation that prisoners were to be brought
up for examination and interrogation on Sunday. On the other
hand, Cod. iii 12, 10, distinctly directs the torture of robbers and
pirates, even on Easter Sunday, the divine pardon (says the law)
being hoped for where the safety of society was thus assured. After
the time of Justinian the observance of Sunday appears to have
become stricter. In the 'West Charlemagne forbade labour of any
kind. A century later iu the Eastern empire No. liv. of the Leonine
constitutions abolished the exemption of agricultural labour con-
tained in the constitution of Constantine. It is worthy of notice
that this exemption was specially preserved in England by a con-
stitution of Archbishop Meopham. The canon law followed the
lines of Koman law. 'The decrees of ecclesiastical councils on the
subject have been very numerous. Much of the law is contained
in the Decretals of Gregory, bk. ii. tit. 9 (De Feriis), c. 1 of whicli
(translated) runs thus : "We decree that all Sundays be observed
from'vespers to vespers (a vespcra ad vcsperam), and that all unlaw-
' See Ignat,, Ad Magn., u[ supra, and Ep. of Barnabas (c 15):
"Your present Sabbaths are not acceptable unto me, but that is which I
haw made when, giving rest to all things, I shall make a beginning of
the eighth day." So practically Tertullian (Resp. ad Jud., c 4) and
Clement of Alexandria. According to Augnstine also (De Sp. et Lit,
14), the observance of the Sabbath is to be taken in % spiritual sei.s*.
SUNDAY
655
ful wotTc Tie aT)3tained from, bo ttat in them tradisf; or legal pro-
ceedings bo not carried on, or any one condemned to death or
punishment, or any oaths be administered, except for peace or other
necessary roason." Works of necessity (especially in the case of
perishable materials or where time was important, as in fishing)
■Boro allowed, on condition that a due proportion of the gain mado
hy work so done was given to the church and the poor. The con-
sent of parties was insufficient to give jurisdiction to a court of law
to proceed on Sunday, though it was sufficient in the case of a day
sanctified by the ecclesiastical authority for a temporary purpose,
e.g., a thanksgiving for vintage or harvest
Id England legislation on the subject began cany and continues
down to the most modern times. As early as the 7th century
the laws of Ina, king of the West Saxons, provided that, if a
"thcowman" worked on Sunday by his lord's command, ho was
to be free and the lord to be fined 30s. ; if a freeman worked without
his lord's command, the penalty was forfeiture of freedom or a fine
of 603., and twice as much in the case of a priest. The laws of .ffithel-
Etan forbade marketing, of iEthclred folkmoots and hunting, on the
Sunday. In almost all the pre-Conquest compilations there are
admonitions to keep the day holy. The first allusion to Sunday
in statute law proper is the Act of 2S Edw. III. c. 14 (now repealed),
forbidding the sale of wool at the staple on Sunday. The mass of
legislation from that date downwards may Ije divided, if not with
strict accuracy, at least for purposes of convenience, into five classes,
—ecclesiastical, constitutional, judicial, social, and commercial.
The following sketch of the legislation can scarcely presume to be
exhaustive, but it will probably be found not to omit any statute
of importance. It should be noticed that the terms " Sunday "
and "Lord's day "are used in statutes. The term "Sabbath"
occurs only in ordinances of the Long Parliament. "Sabbath-
breaking" is sometimes used as a popular expression for a violation
of the Acts for Sunday observance, but it is objected to by Black-
stoce as being legally incorrect. Good Friday and Christrn.as Day
are as a rule in the same legal position as Sunday. In English law
Sunday is reckoned from midnight to midnight, not as in canon
law a vespera ad vcsperam. The Acts mentioned below are still law
unless repeal of any of them is specially mentioned.
Ecclesiastical. — Before the Reformation there appears to bo little
or no statutory recognition of Sunday, except as a day on which
trade was interdicted or national sports directed to be held. Thus
the repealed Acts 12 Ric. II. c. 6 and 11 Hen. IV. c. 4 enjoined
the practice of archery on Sunday. The church itself by prorincial
constitutions and other means declared the sanctity of the day, and
was strong enough to visit with its own censures those who failed
to observe Sunday. With the Reformation, however, it became
necessary to enforce the observance of Sunday by the state in face
of the question mooted at the time as to the divine or merely human
institution of the day as a holy day. Sunday observance was
directed by injunctions of both Edward VI. and Elizabeth, as well
is by Acta of Parliament in their rei^s. 5 and 6 Edw. VI. c. 1 (the
second Att of Uniformity) enacted that all inhabitants of the realm
Vere to endeavour themselves to resort to their parish church or
ctapel accnstomed, or upon reasonable let thereof to ."some usual
place where common prayer is used every Sunday, upon pain of
punishment by the censures of the church. This is still law except
as to Dissenters (see 9 and 10 Vict. c. 59). The same principle
•was re-enacted in the Act of Uniformity of Elizabeth (1 Eliz. c.
2), with the addition of a temporal punishment, viz., a fine of twelve
pence for each offence. This section of the Act is, however, no
longer law, and it appears that the only penalty now incurred by
Bon-attendance at church is the shadowy one of ecclesiastical
censure. 5 and 6 Edw. VI. c. 8 directed the keeping of all Sundays
as holy days, with an exception in favour of husbandmen, labourers,
fishermen, and other persons in harvest or other time of necessity.
At the end of the reign of Elizabeth canon 13 of the canons of 1 603
(which are certainly binding upon the clergy, and probably upon the
laity as far as they arc not contrary to the law, statutes, and customs
of the realm, ortne royal prcrogativi-) provided that "all manner of
persons within the Church of England shall celebrate and keep, the
Lord's day, commonly called Sunday, according to God's holy will
and pleasure and the orders of the Church of England prescribed in
that behalf, that is, in hearing the word of God read and taught,
in private and public prayers, in acknowledging their offences to God
and amendment of the same, in reconciling themselves charitably to
their neighbours where displeasure hath been, in oftentimes receiving
the communion of the body and blood of Christ, in visiting the poor
and sick, using all godly and sober conversation." The Long
Parliament, as might oe expected, occupied itself with the Sunday
question. An ordinance of 1644, c. 51, directed the Lord's day to
be celebrated as holy, as being the Christian Sabbath. Ordinances
of 1650, c. 9, and 1656, c. 15, contained various minute descriptions
of crimes against the sanctity of the Lord's day, including travelling
«nd "vainly and profanely walking." The Act of Uniformity of
Charles IL (13 and 14 Car. 11. c 4) enforced the reading ou every
Ijord'a day of the morning and evening prayer according to the
form in^he Book of Common Pravcr, — a duty which had been pre-
viously enjoined by canon 14. By tlie first of the Cliurch Building
Acts (58 Geo. III. c 45, s. 65) the bishop may direct a third service,
morning or evening, where necessary, in any church built under the
Act. By 1 and 2 Vict, c 106, s. 80, he may order the performance
of two full services, each if he so direct to include a sermon. The
Burial Laws Amendment Act, 1880, forbids any burial under tha
Act taking place ou Sunday.
Constitutional. — Parliament nas occarioually sat on Sunday in
cases of great emergency, as on the denisc of the cron-n. In ono
or two cases in recent years divisious in the House of Commons
have taken place early on Sunday morning. The Ballot Act, 1872,
enacts that in reckoning time for election proceedings Sundays are
to be excluded. A similar provision is contained in the Municipal
Corporations Act, 1882, as to proceedings under that Act.
Judicial. — As a general rule Sunday for the purpose of judicial
proceedings is a dies non. Legal process cannot be served or exe-
cuted on Sunday, except in cases of treason, felony, or breach of the
peace (29 Car. II. c. 7, s. 6). Proceedings which do not need the
intervention of the court are good, e.g., service of a citation or
notice to quit or claim to vote. By 11 and 12 Vict. c. 42, s. 4, a
justice may issue a warrant of apprehension or a search warrant on
Sunday. The Rules of the Supreme Court, 1883, provide that the
offices of the Supreme Court shall be closed on Sundays, that Sunday
is not to be reckoned in the computation of any limited time less
than six days allowed for doing any act or taking any proceeding,
and that, where the time for doing any act or taking any proceeding
expires on Sunday, such act or proceeding is good if done or taken
on the nest day. By the County Couit Rules, 1886, the only
county court process which can be executed on Sunday is a warrant
of arrest in an Admiralty action.
Social. — Under this head may bo grouped the enactments having
for their object the regulation of Sunday travelling and amusements.
The earliest example of non-ecclesiastical interference with recrea-
tion appears to be the Book of Sports issued by James I. in 1618.
Royal authority was given to all but recusants to exercise themselves
after evening service in dancing, archery, leaping, vaulting, Maj'-
games, Whitsun-ales, morris-dances, and setting up of Maj-poles;
but bear and bull baiting, interludes, and bowling by the meaner
sort were prohibited. In 1625 the first Act of the reign of Charles
I. (1 Car. I. c. 1), following the lines of the Boole of Sports, inhibited
meetings, assemblies, or concourse of people out oftheir owu parishes
on the Lord's day for any sportj and/ pastimes whatsoever, and any
bear-baiting, bujl-baiting, interludes, comraou plays, or other
unlawful exercises and p.astimes used by any person or pei-sons
within their own parishes, under a penalty of Ss. 4d. for every
offence. The Act, it will be noticed, impliedly allows sports other
than the e;icepted ones as long as only parishioners take part in
them. An Act which has had more important consequences in
recent years is 21 Geo. III. c. 49 (drawn by Dr Porteus, bishop of
London). It enacts that any place opened or used for public
entertainment and amusement or for pnolic debate upon any part
of the Lord's day called Sunday, to which persons are admitted
by payment of money or by tic'Kcts sold for money, is to bo deemed
a disorderly house. The keeper is to forfeit £200 for every day on
which it is opened or used as aforesaid on the Loi-d's day, the
manager or master of the ceremonies £100, and every doorkeeper
or servant £50. The advertising or publisliing any advertisement
of euch an entertainment is made subject to a penalty of £50. It
has been held that a meeting the object of which was not pecuniary
gain (though there was a charge for admission), but an honest
intention to introduce religious worship, though not according to
any established or usual form, was not within the Act. On this
principle forms of worship most directly opposed to the prevailing
feeling of the country, such as Jlormonisni or Mohammedanism,
are protected. In 1875 actions were brought in the Courts of
Queen's Bench and Exchequer against the Brighton Aquarium
Company, and penalties recovered under the Act. The penalties
were remitted by the crown ; but, as doubts were felt as to tho
power of the crown to remit in such a case, 38 and 39 Vict c
80 was passed to remove such doubts and to enable the sovereign
to remit in whole or in part penalties recovered for olTenccs against
the Act of Geo. III. The rules mado by justices and the bye-laws
mado by local authorities for the government of theatres and places
of public entertainment " • . <■ > _ o ...
Tho Sunday < _ '
local regulations; „
attempt* have been made in that direction. Tho House of Lorils
recently passed a resolution in favour of the principle. A public
billiard table must not be used on Sunday (8 and 9 Vict c 109).
The Game Act (1 and 2 Will. IV. c. 32, s. 3) makes it punishable
with a fine of £5 to kill game or use a dog or net for sporting
purposes on Sunday. Provisions for tho regulation of atreet traffic
on Sundays during divine service in tho metropolis ami provincial
towns may bo- made by tho loi-al authorities under iho powers of
the Metropolis Manngeincut ArLi, tho Town Police Clauses Act,
and the I'ubl.c Health Act. Hackney carriages may ply for hiro
in London (1 and 2 Will. IV. c 22). Where a railway company
al authorities lor the government ol tlieatresanii places
ntertainment usually proride for closing on Sunday.
f opening of muscnma and art galleries is governed by
tious ; there is no general law on tho subject, though
65f^
SUNDAY
runs trains on Sunday one clieap train eacli way 13 to be provided
(7 and 8 Vict. c. 85, s. 10). Most of the railway companies' own
Acts also provide for the running of Sunday trains.
Commercial. — At common law a contract made on Sundi^ is not
void, nor is Sunday trading or labour unlawful. At an early period,
however, the legislature began to impose restrictions, at first by
making Sunday trade impossible by closing the places of ordinary
business, later by declaring certain kinds of trade and labour illegal,
still later by attempting to prohibit all trade and labour. 2S Edw.
III. c. 14 (referred to above) closed the wool market on Sunday.
27 Hen. VI. c. 5 (the earliest Sunday Act still in force) prohibited
fairs and markets on Sunday (necessary victual only excepted),
unless on the four Sundays in harvest, — an exemption since repealed
by 13 and 14 Vict. c. 23. 4 Edw. IV. c. 7 (now repealed) restrained
the shoemakers of London from carrying on their business on Sun-
day. 3 Car. I. c. 1 inflicted a penalty of 20s. on any carrier or
drover travelling on the Lord's day, and a penalty of 6s. 8d. on any
butcher killing or selling on that day. Both this and the previous
Act of 1625 were originally passed only for a limited period, but by
subsequent legislation they have become perpetual. Next in order
is the most comprehensive Act on the subject, 29 Car. II. c. 7, "An
Act for the better observance of the Lord's day, commonly called
Sunday." After an exhortation to the observation of the Lord's
day by exercises in the duties of piety and true religion, publicly
and privately, the Act provides as follows : — No tradesman, artificer,
workman, labourer, or other person whatsoever shall do or exercise
nny worldly labour, business, or work of their ordinary callings upon
the Lord's day or any part thereof (works of necessity and charity
only excepted^ ; and every person being of the age of fourteen years
or upwards offending in the premises shall for every such offence
forfeit the sum of 5s. ; and no person or persons whatsoever shall
publicly cry, show forth, or expose to sale any wares, merchandises,
fruit, herbs, goods, or chattels whatsoever upon the Lord's day or
any part thereof upon pain that every person so offending shall
forfeit the same goods so cried, or showed forth, or exposed to sale
(s. 1). No drover, horse-courser, waggoner, butcher, higgler, their
or any of their servants, shall V-mvel or come into his or their
lodging upon the Lord's day or any part thereof, upon pain that
each and every such offender shall forfeit 20s. for every such
offence ; and no person or persons shall use, employ, or travel upoa
the Lord's day with any boat, wherry, lighter, or barge, except ifc
be upon extraordinary occasion to be allowed by some justice of
the peace, &c., upon ;-ain that every person so offending shall
forfeit and lose the sura of 5s. for every such •offence. In default
of distress or non-payment of forfeiture or penalty the offender
may be set publicly in the stocks for two hours (3. 2). Nothing
in the Act is to extend to the prohibiting of dressing of meat
in families, or dressing or selling of meat in inns, cooks' shops,
or victualling houses for such as cannot be otherwise provided;
nor to the crying or selling of milk before nine in the morning
or after four in the afternoon (s. 3). Prosecutions rtiust be within
ten days after the offence (s. 4). The hundred is not responsible
for robbery of persons travelling upon the Lord's day (s. 5).
Service of procoos on the Lord's day is void ; see above (s. 6).
This Act has frequently received judicial construction. The use
of the word "ordinary" in section 1 has led to the establishment
by a series of decisions of the principle that work done out of the
course of the ordinary calling of the p\.r3on doing it is not within
the Act. Thus the sale of a horse on Sunday by a horse-dealer
would not be enforcible by him and he would be liable to the
penalty, but these results would not follow in the case of a sale by
a person not a horse-dealer. Certain acts were held to fall within
the exception as to works of necessity and charity, e.g., baking
provisions for customers, running stage-coaches, hiring farm-
labourers. The legislature also intervened to obviate some of tho
inconveniences caused by the Act. By 10 and 11 WiU. III. c. 24
mackerel was allowed to be sold before and after service. By 11
and 12 Will. III. c 21 forty watermen were allowed to ply on the
Thames on Sunday. By 9 Anne c. 23 licensed coachmen or chair-
men might be hired on Sunday. By 34 Geo. III. bakers were
allowed to bake and sell bread at certain hours. These Acts are
aU repealed. Still law are 2 Geo. III. c. 15 s. 7, allowing fish
carriages to travel on Sunday in London and Westminster ; 7 and
8 Geo. IV. c. 75, repealing section 2 of the Act of Charles II. as far as
regards Thames boatmen ; and 6 and 7 Will. IV. c. 37, permitting
bakers out of Loudon to carry on their trade up to 1.30 p.m. The
twnalty of the stocks denounced by sect. 2 is practically obsolete (see
Stocks). The prosecution of offences under th.? Act of Charles II.
is now subject to 34 and 35 Vict. c. 87 (an Act which was passed
for a year, but has since been annually continued by the E-^pii'ing
Laws Continuance Act of each session), 'by which no prosecution
or proceeding for penalties under that Act can by instituted except
with the consent in ^vriting of the chief officer of a police district or
the consent of two justices or a stipendiary magistral*. This is
surely a more reasonable means of providing against any hardship
caused by the Act than the ex post facto power of remission of
penalties incuiTed under 21 Geo. Ill, c 49. Besides the general
Act of Charles II., there are various Acts dealing with special trades ;
of these the Licensing Acts and the Factory and Workshop Aot
are the most important. By the Licensing' Act, 1874, premises
licensed for the sale of intoxicating liquors by retail are to be open
on Sunday only at certain hours, varying according as the premises
are situate in the metropolitan district, a towj or populous plac«^
or elsewhere. An exception is made in favour of a person lodging
in the house or a bona fide traveller, who may be served with re-
freshment during prohibited hours, unless in a house with a six-
day licence. Attempts have often been made, but hitherto with-
out success, to induce the legislature to adopt the principle of com-
plete Sunday closing in England as a whole, or in particular
counties.* In the session of 1886 a Bill for Sunday closing in
Durham was passed by the Commons, but rejected by the Lords.
The advocates of Sunday closing in Ireland and Wales have beeu^
more successful. The Sale of Liquors on Sunday (Ireland) Act,
1878, prohibits the opening of licensed premises on Sunday, except
in Dublin, Cork, Limerick, Waterford, and Belfast. In these towns
such premises may be opened from 2 p.m. to 7 P.M. Exemptions
are also made in favour of lodgers and travellers, of packet-boats and
railway stations. The Sunday Closing (Wales) Act, 1881, contains
no exceptions of towns, like the Irish Act, and the only exemption
is the sale of intoxicating liquors at railway stations. The Factory
and Workshop Act, 1878, forbids the employment of a child, young
person, or woman on Sunday in a factory or workshop. But a
young person or woman of the Jewish religion may be employed
on Sunday by a Jewish manufacturer, provided that the factory or
workshop be not open for traflic on Sunday. There are a few other
legislative proWsions of less importance which may be noticed.
Fishing for salmon on Sunday by any means other than a rod and
line is an offence under the Salmon Fishery Act, 1861. By tho
same Act a free passage for the salmon through all cribs, &c., used
for fishery is to be left during the whole of Sunday. Carrying on
the business of a pawnbroker on Sunday is an offence ivithin the
Pawnbrokers Act, 1872. Pistilling and rectifying spirits on Sunday
is forbidden by the Spirits Act, 1880. The effect of Sunday upon
bills of exchange is declared by the Bills of Exchange Act, 1882.
A bill is not invalid by reason only of its bearing date on a Sunday
(3. 13), Where the last day of grace falls on a Sunday, the bUl ij
payablo on the preceding business day (s. 14). Sunday is a "non-
business day " for the purposes of the Act (s. 92). This review ol
Sunday legislation pretty clearly shows that its tendency at present
is opposed to extending facilities to trade on Sunday, but that as to
recreation the tendency is rather in the other direction.'
Scotland. — The-two earliest Acts dealing vrith Sunday are some-
what out of harmony with the general legislation on the subject.
1457, c. 6, ordered the practice of archery on Sunday ; 1526, c. 3,
allowed markets for the sale of flesh to be held on Sunday at Edin-
burgh. Then came a long series of Acts forbidding the profanation
of the day, especially by salmon-fishing, holding fairs and markets,
and working m mills and salt-pans. 1579, c. 70, and 1661, c. 18,
prohibited all work and trading on the Sabbath. The later legis-
lation introduced an exception in favour of duties of necessity and
mercy, in accordance with ch. 21 of the Confession of Faith. In
more modern times the exigencies of travelling have led to a still
further extension of the exception. The Sabbath Observance Acts
were frequently confirmed, the last time in 1696. These Acts were
held by the High Court of Justiciary in 1870 to be still subsisting,
as far as they declare the keeping open shop on Sondiiy to be an
offence by the law of Scotland (Bute's Case, 1 Couper's Reports,
495). The forms of certificate in the schedule to the Public Houses
Acts Amendment Act, 1862 (superseding those in the Forbes Mac-
kenzie Act of 1853), provide for the closing on Sunday of public,
houses and of premises licensed for the sale of eScisable liquors,
and of inns and hotels, except for the accommodation of Icxlgen
and travellers. Scots law is stricter than English in the matte)
of Sunday fishing. By 65 Geo. III. c. 94 the setting or hauling ol
a herring-net on Sunday renders the net liable to forfeiture. Bj
the Salmon Fisheries (Scotland) Act, 1862, fishing for salmon on
Sunday, even with a rod and line, is an offence. As to contracta
and legal process, the law is in general accordance with that o)
England. Contracts ai i not void, apart from statute, simply be-
cause they are made on Sunday. Diligence cannot be executed,
but a warrant of imprisonment or meditatio fiigse is exercisable.
It should be noticed that, contrary to the English custom, the term
"Sabbath" was generally used in the legislation of the Scottish
parliament.
United States. — Some of the early colonial ordinances enforced
the obligatioh of attendance at church, as in England. In most
States there is legislation on the subject of Sunday, following, a^
a general rule, the lines of the English Act of Charles II. Iq
1 The Act 1 James I. c. 9 (now repealed) appears, however, to have pro*
Tided for closing ale-houses in most cafies, except on usual working days.
2 See, in addition to the authorities cited, Lyndewode, Provijicial CoJistitiu
tiOTis bk. ii, chap. iii. ; Ayliffe, Parergon, p. 470 ; Gibson, Codex, tit. x. chajx
i. ; Heylin, History of the Sabbath, part ii. : the article "Lord's Day" (by
Bishop Barry) in the Dictionary of Christian Antiquities ; and Hessey, Sunday,
(Hampton Lectures, 1860) ; also Robert Coi'a works on the Sabbath.
S U N — S U N
657
Maasachnsetts traveUing, except from necessity or charity, is punish-
able with a fine of ten dollars. Provision is sometunes made, as
in the Massachusetts laws, for the beneBt of persons observing
Saturday as the Sabbath, on condition that they disturb no other
nerson The number of Sunday trains is often limited by State
legislation. In some of the New England States Sunday is from
su'nset to sunset. In most States, however, it is reckoned, as in
Endand from midnight to midnight. By the constitution of the
United States, art. I. s. 7, Sundays are to be excluded from the
ten davs aUowed the president to return a BilL A similar provision
is often contained in State constitutions as to the return of a Bill
bv the governor. The United States legislation on the subject of
Sundav IS not important. It directs that naval and military studies
are not to be pursued, and that the day ia not to be reckoned m
bankruptcy proceedings. . , ,. ^ ^t u
SUNDERLAND, amrmicipalandparbamentary borougli,
market town, and large seaport of Durham, England, is
situated at the mouth of the river Wear and on the North-
Eastern Kail way, 12 miles south-east of Newcastle-on-
Tyne and 77 north-north-west of York. The municipal
borough includes, besides the township of Sunderland proper
on the south bank of the river, the adjoining township of
Bishopwearmouth, which embraces about three-fifths of the
total inhabitants, and the township of Monkwearmouth, on
the north bank of the river. Sunderland proper consists
chiefly of the High Street and other streets near the docks.
It is connected with Monkwearmouth by a cast-iron bridge,
designed by Eowland Burdon, and consisting of one arch
with a span of 236 feet and a height above low water of
100 feet. It was opened in 1796 and widened in 1858.
The only ecclesiastical building of antiquarian interest is
Flan of Sunderland.
St Peter's church, Monkwearmouth, which stiU retains the
tower with other portions of the ancient Saxon building
attached to the monastery founded by Benedict Biscop in
674. The modern public buildings embrace the custom-
house (1837), the Sunderland and North Durham Liberal
club in the Ionic style (1839), the corporation offices, the
workmen's haU, the new general market, the Victoria hall
(1871), the assembly hall, and two theatres. The chari-
table and benevolent institutions are numerous, including
Gibson's almshouses (1725) for twelve poor persons, Bowe
almshouses (1725), Trinity Church almshouses (1719, re-
built in 1876) for eight aged poor, the marine almshouses
(1820), the eye infirmary (1836), the sailors' home (1856),
the orphan asylum (1853), the infirmary and dispen-sary
(erected in 1868 and extended in 1882), and the blind
institute, for which a new building has recently been
erected. For the literary society and subscription library,
originally founded in 1793, a new building was erected in
1877. The people's park at Bishopwearmouth, 17 acres
in extent, contains a broRKe statue of Sir Henry Havelook,
who was bom at Ford Hall in the neighbourhood. The
park was lately increased by an addition of 10 acres, called
22—24
the Extension Park, in •which there is a sfatue oT" Alder-
man Candlish, and a free library, museum, art gallery, and
winter garden. Roker, on the north side of Sunderland,
is a favourite bathing-place. The population of the
municipal borough (area, 3306 acres) in 1871 was 98,242,
and in 1881 it was 116,542 (males 57,131, females
59,411). The population of the parliamentary borough
(area, 5130 acres) in the same years was 104,409 and
124,841 respectively.
Much of the prosperity of Sunderland is due to the coal and
limestone in the neighbourhood of the river "Wear, of which it is
the port. Its export of coal began in the reign of Henry TIL,
the trade being principally with London and the western coasts of
England, although large quantities were also shipped to Holland,
France, and other parts of the Continent. The coal trade is still
of great importance, and the Monkwearmouth colliery is one of
the deepest coal-pits in the world, — 381 fathoms. Sunderland
vies with the Clyde for its iron shipbuilding. The number of
iron ships built in 1885 was 31 with a tonnage of 30,520 for home
and 2 with a tonnage of 1255 for foreigners ; of steel ships, 9 with
a tonnage of 8099 for home and 3 with a tonnage of 3635 for
foreigners. Along both banks of the Wear numerous extensive
works of various kinds are situated, including anchor and chain
cable works, glass and bottle works, roperies, forges, iron-works,
chemical works, paper-miUs, breweries, and lime-ldliis. The modem
prosperity of the town has been largely promoted by the enterprise
of George Hudson, the " railway king." The conservation of the
port is vested in the Wear commissioners, to whose care the South
Dock was transferred by the Wear Navigation and Sunderland
Dock Act of 1 869. Under their auspices great extensions and im-
provements have been made, and there are now three large deep-
water docks, embracing a total area of 43 acres, viz., Hudson deck
north (18), Hudson dock south (14), and Hendon dock'(ll). Monk-
wearmouth dock, 6 acres in extent and the property of the railway
company, is chiefly used for the export of coal. New piers over
half a mile in lengtli are now (1887) being erected. The average
annual value of the imports of foreign and colonial merchandise
for the five years ending 1886 was a little over £700,000, and of the
exports of produce of the United Kingdom a little over £600,000.
The coasting trade, in regard to which specific details are wanting,
is, however, more important. The total number of British ancl
foreign vessels, sailing and steam, that entered the port of Sunder-
land with cargoes or in baUast from foreign countries, British
possessions, and coastwise in 1876 was 9708 of 2,329,576 tons and
in 1885 9451 of 2,764,174 tons. The numbers ttat cleared in the
same years were respectively 9430 of 2,357,430 tons and 9419 o£
2,824,218 tons.
The early history of the borough is associated with Monkwear-;
mouth, which existed long before the town on the other side of
the river, and had its origin in a convent which was founded by
St Bega in the 7th century and converted into a monastery fof
Benedictines by Biscop in 674. Bede was bom at Wearmouth in
673, and in his seventh year was placed under the charge of Biscop.
The monastery was reconstituted as a cell of Durham in 1084.
About the c'ose of the 12th century the inhabitants of Sunderland
received from Bishop Pudsey a charter of free customs and privi-
leges similar to those of Newcastle-on-Tyne. In 1G34 the town
was incorjporated under the title of "mayor, aldermen, and com-
monalty,' with the privilege of holding a market and annual fairs.
In the preamble of the charter it is stated to have been a borouch
from time immemorial under the name of New Monkwearmouti,
and to have been in tho enjoyment of various liberties and free
customs conferred by the bishops of Durham. Under a special
Act in 1851 the town council was constituted the urban sanitary
authority. Extensive drainage works have been carried out, as
well as important street improvements. Sunderland has returned
two members to the House of Commons since 1832. A largo
number of Scotch families settled in tho town in 1640 und raTe a
considerable impulse to its trade. During the Civil War tno in-
habitants embraced tho cause of tho Parliament, while tlie neigh-
bouring Newcastle held out for tho king for two years. "Tho
Scottish army under Leslie, carl of Leven, entered Sunderland on
4th March 1644, and tho king's forces followed them ; but no en-
gagement took place beyond desultory firing.
SUNDERLAND, Robert Spenceb, Second Eakl or
(1640-1702), was the eldest son of Henry, tho first carl,
and Lady Dorothy Sidney, eldest daughter of Robert,
second earl of Leicester. He was bom in 1640 and bu«-
cecdcd his father (who was killed at Newbury) in tho title
on 20th September 1643. During tho years 1671-73 ho
acted as ambassador at Madrid, I'aris, and Cologne can-
secutively, and iik-167a went to Paris as ambassador
658
S 0 N — S U N
extraordinary. It was during tHs period of his life that'
he acquired that suppleness of feeling and love of finesse
which may be traced throughout his subsequent career.
From February 1679 to January 168,1, a period when the
country was rent in twain by real or fancied dangers to
the Protestant faith, he held the post of secretary of state
for the northern department ; but his conduct in oflSce was
not marked by discretion. He voted for the exclusion of
the duke of York from the succession to the throne, and
the ill-feeling which this action created in the mind of
Charles II. was augmented by the overtures which Sunder-
land made to the prince of Orange, whilst differences of
opinion on the subject of the Exclusion Bill brought about
a fierce quarrel between Sunderland and Halifax, the head
of the " trimmers." Early in 1683, having been reconciled
to the duke of York and having secured a warm friend in
the duchess of Portsmouth, Sunderland regained his place
as secretary for the northern department. When James
n. succeeded to the throne, Sunderland became secretary
for the southern department, from March 1685 to 27th
October 1 &68, for most of which period he held the addi-
tional post of president of the council, and was a member
of the high commission for ecclesiastical causes. He after-
wards claimed that he had used his influence to mitigate
the proceedings of this obnoxious body, but he went suffi-
ciently far with his royal master to sign the warrant for
the committal of the bishops and to appear as a witness
against them. Though Lord Sunderland was in sympathy,
if not in actual communion, with Eoman Catholicism, he
hesitated to commit himself entirely to the acts of the
fierce devotees who surrounded James 11., and through
their opposition he was dismissed in disgrace and sought
security in Holland. He had been too much engaged in
the acts of James II. to find a place among the advisers
of WiUiam and JIary.
The visit which William paid to Althorp in Northampton-
shire, the country seat of Sunderland, in 1695 was the
prelude of a reconciliation between the king and his
ambitious subject and of Sunderland's recall into pubUo
affairs. From April to December 1697 he discharged the
duties of lord chamberlain of the household and for the
greater part of that time he was also lord justice of
England ; but he finally retired from active life in the
close of 1697 through disgust at the check which WiUiam
received in the retention of a standing army. The rest of
his life was passed in strict seclusion at Althorp, and
there he died on 28th September 1702.
Lord Sunderland possessed a keen intellect and was
consumed by intense restlessness ; but his character was
wanting in steadfastness, and he yielded too easily to
opposition. His adroitness in intrigue and his fascinatLog
manners were exceptional even in an age when such qualities
formed part of every statesman's education ; but the charac-
teristics which ensured him success in the House of Lords
and in the royal closet led to faUure in his attempts to
understand the feelings of the mass of his countrymen.
Consistency of conduct was not among the objects which he
aimed at, nor did he shrink from thwarting in secret a
policy which he supported in public. A lazgi share of the
discredit attaching to the measures of James 11. must be
assigned to the earl of Simderland.
SUNDERLAND, Chakles Spemcee, Thted Eael or
(1675-1722), was the second son of the second earl, but
on the death of his elder brother at Paris, on 5th Septem-
ber 1688, he became the heir to the peerage. He was
bom in 1675, and when twenty years old was sent to the
House of Commons by the two constituencies of Hedon
in Yorkshire and Tiverton in Devonshire. He chose the
latter, and represented it until his succession to the earldom
of Sunderland in 1702. Throughout this period of his life
his career was»tindistinguished; his first start in the world
of politics occurred in 1705, when he was sent to Vienna
as envoy extraordinary, a mission which he discharged with
signal ability. Although Sunderland was tinged with
republican feeling and had rendered himself personally
obnoxious to Anne, he was foisted by the all-powerful influ-
ence of his father-in-law, the duke of Marlborough, into
the ministry as secretary of state for the southern depart-
ment. This office he held from 3d December 1706 to
1-ith June 1710, when he feD, as he rose, through his
connexion with the duke and duchess of Marlborough.
The queen offered him a pension of £3000 a year, but he
proudly refused the temptation, saying that, if he could
not serve, he would not plunder, his country. After the
accession of George I. he was lord lieutenant of Ireland
(1714-15), lord keeper of the privy seal (1715-17), and
secretary of state for the northern department (April 1717
to March 1718). At the latter date he was raised to the
post of prime minister, holding with the office of first lord
of the treasury the position of lord president of the council.
Sir Eobert Walpole had been shelved, and ho revenged
himself on the new administration by resisting and defeat-
ing the Bill which was designed to limit the numbers of
the House of Lords, — a victory over Sunderland which led
to a partial reconciliation between him and Townshend and
Walpole, his rivals. Lord Sunderland was at the head of
aflairs during the South Sea mania, and the bursting of
the financial bubble led to his political ruin. Through
Walpole's influence he was acquitted of personal corrup-
tion, but he was forced to resign his place as first lord of
the treasury on 1st April 1721. The passion for intrigue
which characterized the father had descended to the son :
he was ever plotting, and within a few months after Wal-
pole had saved him from disgrace, if not from a worse fate,
he was engaged in scheming against the friend who had
saved him. But his plots were interrupted by his death,
which occurred on 19th April 1722. Lord Sunderland's
manners were repelhng and his disposition was harsh, but
he stands high among his compeers for disinterestedness.
The love of books ranked' among the ruling passions of his
life, and he spent his leisure hours and his wealth in form-
ing the great collection at Althorp.
SUN-FISH. This name is chiefly and properly applied to
a marine fish (Orthagoriscus) which by its large size, grot-
esque appearance, and numerous peculiarities of organiza-
tion has attracted the attention equally of fishermen as of
naturalists. Only two species are known, — the rough or
short sun-fish (.0. mola), which is found in aU seas of the
temperate and tropical zones ; and the much smaller and
scarcer smooth or oblong sun-fish {0. truncatus), of which
only a small number of specimens have been obtained
from the Atlantic and Indian Oceans. That this genua
belongs to the order Piectognathi and is allied more especi-
ally to the globe-fishes (Biodon and Tetrodon) has Ijeen
indicated in the article Ichthyology (vol. ix. pp. 663, 694),
where also the principal anatomical peculiarities have
been noticed, and where illustrations of the young have
been given (see figs. 64, 65).
Sun-fishes have the appearance of tailless fish. This is
due to the extreme shortening of th« toil, which is sup-
ported by only a few short vertebrse and reduced to a
broad fringe of the trunk. Directly in front of it rise
dorsal and anal fins, high and broad, similar to each other
in size and triangular in form. The head is completely
merged in the trunk, the boundary between them being
indicated only by a very small and narrow gill-opening
and a comparatively small pectoral fin. This fin can .be
of but little use ia locomotion, and the horizontal and ver-
tical movements of the fish, as well as the maintenance of
its body in a vertical position, are evidently executed by
S U N — S U N
659
the powerful dorsal and anal fins. The small mouth, situ-
ated in front of the head, is armed with an undivided
dental plate above and below, similar to but weaker than
the teeth of the globe-fish (Diodon).
Sun-fishes are truly pelagic, propagating their species in
the open sea, and only occasionally approach the coast.
During the stormy season they live probably at some
depth, but in calm bright weather they rise and rest or
play on the surface with their dorsal fin high above the
water. This habit has given rise to the popular name
" sun-fish," a term also sometimes applied to the basking-
shark (vol. xxi. p. 777), which in like manner enjoys the
warmth of a sunny day. In some years the rough sun-fish
is by no means scarce on the south coast of England and on
the Irish coasts, where it appears
principaUy in the summer months.
The usual size is from 3 to 4 feet
in length, but this species attains
to 7 feet and more. One of the
largest specimens (see the accom-
panying figure) was caught near
Portland (Dorsetshire) in 1846,
and is now in the British Museum;
its length is 7 feet 6 inches. The
sun -fish has no economic value,
and is rarely, if ever, eaten.
Sun-fish (Orthagoriscus molaj.
"Whilst the rough sun -fish has a granulated, rough,
shagreen-like skin, the second species (0. truncatus) has
the surface of the body smooth and polished, with its small
dermal scutes arranged in a tesselated fashion. It is oblong
in shape, the body being much longer than it is deep.
The sides are finely ornamented with transverse silvery,
black-edged stripes running downwards to the lower part
of the abdomen. It has not been found to exceed 2 feet
in length, but is very scarce, only a few specimens having
been captured on the coasts of Europe, at the Cape of
Good Hope, and oflf Mauritius.
SUNFLOWER. In the modem vernacular this name
is most commonly applied to various species of Helianthus,
especially to II. aknuus; but, as this is a tropical American
herb, and the word "sunflower" or something correspond-
ing to it existed in English literature prior to its intro-
duction, or at any rate prior to its general diffusion in
gardens, it is obvious that some other flower than the Ileli-
anthiis must have been intended. The marigold (Calendu'a
officinalis) is considered by Dr Prior to have been the plant
intended by Ovid {Met., iv. 2G9-70)—
". . . Illo suum, quamvis radice tenetur,
yertitur ad solera ; mutataque serrat amorem " —
and likewi.se the solsxce of the Anglo-Saxon, a word equi-
valent to solscquium (sun-foUowing). But this movement
with the sun is more imaginary than real, the better expla-
nation being afforded by the resemblance to "the radiant
beams of the sun," as Gerard expresses it. The central
fliak of tubular hermaphrodita liowera, encompassed by
the spreading neuter florets of the ray, has, indeed, b
marked resemblance to the sun as conventionally depicted.
The florets are provided with two or three dry, sharply
pointed scales, which serve as pappus, and the whole
mass of florets is encircled by a close involucre of leafy
bracts.- There are numerous varieties of the common
sunflower in cultivation, the so-called double form being
one in which the ordinarily tubular florets in the centre
become spreading and " ligulato " like those at the circum-
ference. The seeds, or more strictly speaking the fruits,
contain 'much oil, for which the plant is cultivated in
southern Russia. The oil is used in the manufacture of
soap. The seeds are also valued for their agreeable
flavour, and are much used as food far poultry, &c. The
so-called "Jerusalem artichoke" (Helianthus tuberosus)
belongs to the same genus. It is believed to be a native
of Canada, or perhaps a modified form of II. dcronicoides^
The tubers are rich in inulin and sugar, and the plant
deserves more attention at the hands of cultivators than it
has yet received. The word " Jerusalem " is evidently a
corruption, while "artichoke" applies to the flavour of the'
tuber, which is not unlike that of the artichoke.
SUNNITES AKD SHI'ITES. Thereligionof Mohammed Geo- "
is at present professed by 150 to 200 miUion souls, spread fr^^?^''*
over great parts of Asia (including the Indian Archi-,j'^." "'
pelago), Africa, and southern Europe,^ — over Asia Minor,
Armenia, Syria, Palestine, Arabia, Mesopotamia, the
Caucasus, Persia, aU upper Asia (including Siberia), the;
steppes of southern Russia, Afghanistan, Beluchistan,
Tibet, China, Japan, India, Egypt, the Soudan as far as
the equatorial lakes, the whole north coast of Africa and|
thence deep into the interior, European Turkey, Bulgaria,
Bosnia, and Herzegovina. In most of these regions Mo**
lems live side by side with men of other confessions, even
where Islam is the ruling creed ; it is found unmixed ia.
Central Asia and some parts of Arabia.
Mohammedans fall into the two great divisions of
Sunnites and ShI'ites (Shl'a), separated by such bitter
hatred as belongs to two hostile religions, or such as
some Ca,tholic populations feel towards a Protestant.^ The
Sunnites, who accept the orthodox tradition (Simna) as well
as the Koran as a source of theologico-juristic doctrines,
predominate in Arabia, the Turkish empire, the north o£
Africa, Turkestan, Afghanistan, and the Mohammedan'
parts of India and the east of Asia ; the Shi'ites, whosa
origin has been explained in Mohammedanism (vol. xvi^
pp. 564, 668, 592), have their main seat in Persia, where
their confession is the state religion, but are also scattered
over the whole sphere of Islam, especially in India an4
the regions bordering on Persia, except among the nomad
Tatars, who are all nominally Sunnite. Even in Turkey
there are many native Shi'ites, generally men of the upper
classes, and often men in high oflice. The Shi'ites are
less numerous and less important than the Sunnites,. but
on the whole may amount to 20 millions..
Sunnites.
Orthodox Islam preserves unchanged the form • of
doctrine established in the 10th century by Abii '1-Haaao
al-Ash'arl (see vol. xvi. p. 593, and also pp. 553 sq., 592,
584). The attacks of rationalism, aiaed by Greek philo-
sophy, were repelled and vanquished by the weapons of
scholastic dialectic borrowed from the enemy ; on most
points of dispute discussion was forbidden altogether,
^ Exact statistics are unattaisablo becauao wo lack details tus to tha
great advances whicli Islam has recootly mado and is still making Id
Central Africa.
' Generally speaking the Sunnites uro the rooro bitter party. Th*
relation is least strained in India, where the Sunnites ajjiroach tho
ShCites in reverence for 'Ali, Hasan, and Ilosoin. and eharo Iha (cast*
of thc:>e saints
660
SUNNITES
[SUITNITES.
and faith in what is written in Koran and tradition was
enjoined withoat question as to how these things were
true (bUi kaifa). Freer allegorical views, however, were
admitted on some specially perplexing points, such as the
doctrine of the eternity of the Koran, the crude anthropo-
morphisms of the sacred text, &c.; and, since Mo'tazitte
views had never taken deep root among the masses, while
the caliphs required the help of the clergy, and from the
time of Motawakkil (847 a.d.) became ever more closely
bound to orthodox views, the freethinking tendency was
thoroughly put down, and to the present day no rational-
izing movement has failed to be crushed in the bud.
Philosophy still means no more than scholastic dialectic,
and is the humble servant of orthodoxy, no man venturing
on devious paths except in secret. In the years 1872-78
the Afghan JamAl al-Dln, a professor in the Azhar mosque
at Cairo, attempted to read Avicenna with his scholars,
and to exercise them in things that went beyond theology,
bringing, for example, a globe into the mosque to explain
the form of the earth. But the other professors rose in
arms, forbade him to enter the mosque, and in 1879 pro-
cured his exile on the pretext that he entertained demo-
cratic and revolutionary ideas. Thus the later movements
of thought in Islam never touch on the great questions
that exercised Mohammedanism in its first centuries, e.g.,
the being and attributes of God, the freedom of the will,
ein, heaven and heU, &c. Religious earnestness, ceasing
to touch the higher problems of speculative thought, has
expressed itself in later times exclusively in protest against
the extravagances of the dervishes, of the worship of saints,
and so forth, and has thus given rise to movements ana-
logous to Puritanism.
That even in early times the masses were never shaken
in their attachment to the traditional faith, with all its
crude and grotesque conceptions, is due to the zeal of the
ulema, or clergy, for the protection of Islam from every
alien influence. Mohammedanism has no priesthood stand-
ing between God and the congregation'^ but Koran and
Sunna are full of minute rules for the details of private
and civil life, the knowledge of which is necessarily in the
hands of a class of professed theologians. These are the
'idemA (" knowers," singular ^dlim), theology being briefly
named "the knowledge" ("i7m). Their influence is still
enormous and hardly has a paraUel in the history of re-
ligions. For it is not supported by temporal agencies like
the spiritual authority of the Christian priesthood in the
Middle Ages, but is a pure power of knowledge over the
ignorant masses, who do nothing without consulting their
spiritual advisers. When the vigorous Spanish sultan
Mansilr b. Abl 'Amir proposed to confiscate a religious
foundation and the assembled ulema refused to approve
the act, and were threatened by his vizier, one of them
replied, " All the evil you say of us applies to yourself ;
you seek unjust gains and support your injustice by threats;
you take bribes and practise ungodliness in the world.
But we are guides on the path of righteousness, lights in
the darkness, and bulwarks of Islam ; we decide what is
just or unjust and declare the right ; through us the pre-
cepts of religion are maintained. We know that the sultan
will soon think better of the matter ; but, if he persists,
every act of his government will be null, for every treaty
of peace and war, every act of sale and purchase, is valid
pnly through our testimony." With this answer they left
the assembly, and the sultan's apology overtook them before
they had passed the palace gate.i The same consciousness
of independent authority and strength still survives among
the ulema. Thus the sheikhu '1-Isl4m 'Abbisi (who was
deposed by the professors of the Azhar in 1882) had in
' Von Kremer, Oesch. d. herrschenden Ideen d. Islams, Leipsic,
1868, p. 464.
the first period of his presidency a sharp conflict with
'AbbAs Pasha, viceroy of Egypt, who asked of him an unjust
legal opinion in matters of inheritance. When bribes and
threats failed, the sheikh was thrown into chains and treated
with great severity, but it was the pasha who finally yielded,
and 'AbbAsl was recalled to honours and rich rewards.
The way in which the ulema are recruited and formed
into a hierarchy with a vigorous esprit de corps throws an
instructive light on the whole subject before us. The
brilliant days are past when the universities of Damascus,
Baghdad, Nlshdpiir, Cairo, Kairow^n (Kairwan), SeviUe,
Cordova, were thronged by thousands of students of theo-
logy, when a professor had often hundreds or even, like
Bokhdrl, thousands of hearers, and when' vast estates in
the hands of the clergy fed both masters and scholars. Of
the great universities but one survives — the Azhar mosque
at Cairo — where thousands of students still gather to follow
a course of study which gives an accurate picture of the
Mohammedan ideal of theological education.^
The students of theology generally begin their course in Tbeo-
early youth, but not seldom in riper years. Almost alii"?'*'**
come from the lowest orders, a few from the middle classes, ""'*''''
and none from the highest ranks of society, — a fact which
in itself excludes aU elements of freer and more refined
education. These sons of poor peasants, artisans, or trades-
men are already disposed to narrow fanaticism, and gener-
ally take up study as a means of livelihood rather than
from genuine religious interest. The scholar appears before
the president's secretary with his poor belongings tied up
in a red handkerchief, and after a brief interrogatory ia
entered on the list of one of the four orthodox rites, —
ShAfi'ite, Hanafite, M^likite, and Hanbalite. If he is lucky
he gets a sleeping-place within the mosque, a chest to hold
his things, and a daily ration of bread. The less fortunate
make shift to live outside as best they can, but are aU day
in the mosque, and are seldom deserted by Moslem charity.
Having kissed the hands of the sheikh and teachers of
his school, the pupil awaits the beginning of the lectures.
For books a few compendiums suffice him. Professors
and students gather every morning for the daUy prayer ;
then the professors take their seats at the foot of the pillars
of the great court and the students crouch on mats at their
feet. The beginner takes first a course in the grammar
of classical Arabic, for he has hitherto learned only to read,
write, and count. The rules of grammar are read out in
the memorial verses of the Ajriimlya, and the teacher adds
an exposition, generally read from a printed commentary.
The student's chief task is to know the rules by heart j
this accomplished, he is dismissed at the end of the year
with a certificate {ijdza), entered in his text-book, which,
permits him to teach it to others. The second year is
devoted to dogmatic (kahivi and tatvhid), taught in the
same mechanical way^ The dogmas of Islam are not
copious, and the attributes of God are the chief subject
taken up. They are demonstrated by scholastic dialectic,
and at the end of his second year the student, receiving his
certificate, deems himself a pillar of the faith. The study
of law {fikh), which rests on Koran and tradition, is more
difficult and complex, and begins, but is often not com-
pleted, in the third year. The student had learned the
Koran by heart at school and has often repeated it since,
but only now is the sense of its words explained to him.
Of the traditions of the Prophet he has learned something
incidentally in other lectures ; he is now regularly intro-
duced to their vast and artificial system. From these two
sources are derived all religious and civil laws, for Islam ia
a political as well as a religious institution. The five main
points of religious law, " the pillars of Islam," have been
" Of the 126 madrasa or colleges which once belonged to the uni«
versity of Damascus but fire remained in 1880.
ptraNITES.]
SUNNITES
661
feirainerated in vol. xvi. p. 553 sq. ; the civil law, on tlie
development of ■which Koman law Lad some influence, is
treated under heads similar to those of Western juris-
prudence. It is here that the difi^erences between the four
schools (vol. xvi. p. 594: sq.) come most into notice : the
Hanafite praxis is the least rigorous, then the Shifi'ite ;
the Hanbalites, whose system is the strictest, have practi-
cally disappeared in the Milikites. The Hanafite rite is
official in the Turkish empire, and is followed in all Govern-
inent ofiices whenever a decision still depends on the sacred
law, as well as by all Mohammedans of Turkish race. In
Epypt and North Africa Shdfi'ites are more numerous than
Malikites, while the opposite is the case in Arabia. In
nrS the Azhar had 7691 students,— 3723 Shdfi'ites
wiih 106 sheikhs, 2855 MAlikites with 75 sheikhs, 1090
Hanafites with 49 sheikhs, 23 Hanbalites with 1 sheikh.
in this as in the previous studies a compendium is learned
liy heart, and explanations are given from commentaries
and noted down by the students word for word. The
professors are expressly forbidden to add anything of their
own. The recognized books of jurisprudence, some of which
run to over twenty folio volumes, are vastly learned, and
occasionally show soimd sense, but excel mainly in useless
hair-splitting and feats of scholastic gymnastics, for which
the Arabian race has a natural gift.
Besides the three main disciplines the student takes up
according to his tastes other subjects, such as rhetoric
{ma'dni wabaydn), logic (mantik), prosody {'anld), and the
doctrine of the correct pronunciation of the Koran (kird'a
watajwid). After three or four years, fortified with the
certificates of his various professors, he seeks a place in a
law-court or as a teacher, preacher, cadi, or mufti of a
village or minor town, or else one of the innumerable posts
of confidence for which the complicated ceremonial of
Mohammedanism demands a theologian, and which are
generally paid out of pious foundations. A place is not
hard to find, for the powerful corporation of the ulema
seeks to put its own members into all posts, and, though
the remuneration is at first small, the young 'Alim gradually
accumulates the revenues of several offices. Gifts, too, fall
in, and with his native avarice and economy he rises in
wealth, position, and reputation for piety. The common-
alty revere him and kiss his hand ; the rich show him at
least outward respect ; and even the Government treats him
as a person to whom consideration is due for his influence
with the masses.
This sketch of his education is enough to explain the
narrow-mindedness of the 'Alim. He deems all non-theo-
logical science to bo vain or hurtful, has no notion of
progress, and regards true science — i.e., theology — as having
reached finality, so that a new supercommentary or a new
students' manual is the only thing that is perhaps still
worth writing. How the mental faculties are blunted by
scholasticism and mere memory work must be seen to be
belirived ; such an education is enough to spoil the best head.
All originality is crushed out and a blind and ludicrous
dependence on ^vrittcn tradition — even in things profane —
takes its place. Acuteness degenerates into hair-splitting
and clever plays on words after the manner of the rabbins.
The Azhar students not seldom enter Government offices
and even hold important administrative posts, but they
never lose the stamp of their education — the narrow un-
teachable spirit, incapable of progress, always lost in ex-
ternal details, and never able to grasp principles and get
behind forms to the substance of a matter. (w. s.-B.)
Yet it is but a small fraction of the ulcma of the JIos-
lem world that enjoy even such an education as the Azhar
affords. It draws few students from foreign parts,* where
i ' la 1878 seventeen Iccture-rooras of the Azhar liad 3707 students,
of wlioin only Gl came from Constantinople and tlie nortliern parts of
the local schools are of the poorest kind, except in India
(thanks to the British Government) and perhaps in Con-
stantinople.2 BokhdrA was once a chief seat of learning,
but is noTv so sunk in narrow fanaticism that its eighty
madrasas with their 5000 students only turn out a bigoted
and foolish clergy (Vdmb^ry).^ But for this very reason
Bokhird, is famed as a luminary of pure theology and
spreads its influence over Turkestan, Siberia, China, Kash-
mir, Afghanistan, and even over India. Jlinor schools
attached to mosques are found in other places, but teach
still less than the great schools already mentioned.
Except in India, where it is controlled by the Govern-
ment, the organization of the priestly and judicial persons
trained in the schools is a compromise between what theo-
logical principles dictate and what the state demands.
Neither Koran nor Sunna distinguishes between temporal
and spiritual powers, and no such distinction was known as
long as the caliphs acted in all things as successors of the
prophets and heads of the community of ■ the faithful.
But, as the power of the 'AbbAsids declined (see vol. xvi. p.
585 sq.) and external authority fell in the provinces into
the hands of the governors and in the capital into those
of the amir al-omard, the distinction became more and
more palpable, especially when the Biiyids (Buwaihids),
who were disposed to Shl'ite views, proclaimed themselves
sultans, i.e., possessors of all real authority. The theo-
logians tried to uphold the orthodox theory by declaring
the sultanate to be subordinate to the imimate or sove-
reignty of the caliphs, and dependent on the latter especi-
ally in all religious matters ; but their artificial theories
have never modified facts. The various dynasties of stil-
tans (Biiyids, Ghaznevids, Seljiiks, and finally the Mongols)
never paid heed to the caliphs and at length abolished them;
but the fall of the theocracy only increased the influence of
the clergy, the expounders and practical administrators of
that legislation of Koran and Sunna which had become^
part of the life of the Mohammedan world. The Mame-
lukes in Egypt tried to make their own govemment'appear
more legitimate by nominally recognizing .a continuation of
the spiritual dignity of the caliphate in a siyviving branch
of the 'Abbdsid line which they protected, and in 923 a.h.
(1517) the Ottoman Selim, who destroyed the Mameluke
power, constrained the "Abbdsid Mutawakkil III., who
lived in Cairo, to make over to him his nominal caliphate.
The Ottoman sultans still bear the title of "successors of
the Prophet," and still find it useful in foreign relations,
since there is or may be some advantage in the right of
the caliph to nominate the chief cadi (kddi) of Egypt and in
the fact that the spiritual head of Khiva calls himself onlv
tho nakib (vicegerent) of the sultan.* In India too the
sultan owes something perhaps to his spiritual title. But
among his own subjects he is compelled to defer to the
ulema and has no considerable influence on tho composi-
tioil of that body. He nominates the skei^ku 'l-Isldm
(senior, i.e., president of Islam) or mufti of Constantinople
(grand mufti), who is his representative in the imdmate
and issues judgments in points of faith and law from which
there is no appeal ; but the nomination must fall on one
of the mollahs,^ who form tho upper stratum of the hicrai-chy
the Ottoman empire, 8 from North Arabia, 1 from the government of
Baghdad, 12 from Kurdistan, and 7 from India with its tliirty million
Sunnites.
- In Kazan also the standard of learning seems to hsTB been niMd
by Russian and Western scholars.
' Tho mxdrasa is here a college, generally attached to a mosque,
with lands whose revenues provide tho means of instruction and in
part also food and residence for scholars and teachers.
* Till the Russians gained preponderating influence the khin of
Khiva also acknowledged tho sultan os his suzerain.
° MoUah is the Pcrso-Turkish pronunciation, of the Arabic naulA,
literally "p.itron," a term applied to heada of orders and other r»U-
Kious dignitaries of various Kradcs.
662
SUNNITES
[stnWTTKS.
of ulema. And, though the various places of religious
dignity are conferred by the sultan, no one can hold office
who has not beeo examined and certified by older ulema,
so that the corporation is self-propagating, and palace
intrigues, though not without influence, can never break
through its iron bonds. The deposition of 'Abd al-Azlz is
an example of the tremendous power that can be wielded by
the ulema at the head of their thousands of pupils ^ when
they choose to stir up the masses; nor woidd Mahmiid II.
in 1826 have ventured to enter on his struggle with the
Janissaries unless he had had the hierarchy with him.
The student who has passed his examinations at Con-
stantinople or Cairo may take up the purely religious ofiice
of iyndm (president in worship) or khatib (preacher) at a
mosque. These offices, however, are purely ministerial,
are not necessarily limited to students, and give no place
in the hierarchy and no particular consideration or social
Judicial " status. On the other hand, he may become a judge or cadi.
offices. Every place of any importance has at least one cadi, who
is nominated by the Government," but has no further
dependence on it, and is answerable only to a member of
the third class of the ulema, viz., the mufti or proneimcer
of feiwas. A fetwa is a decision according to Koran and
Sunna, but without reasons, on an abstract case of law
■which is brought before the mufti by appeal from the cadi's
judgment or by reference from the cadi himself. For ex-
ample, a dispute between master and slave may be found
by the cadi to turn on the general question, "Has Zaid,
the master of 'Amr,^ the absolute right to dispose of his
slave's earnings?" When this is put to the mufti, the
answer will be simply "Yes," and from this decision there
is no appeal, so that the mufti is supreme judge in his own
district. The grand mufti of Constantinople is, as we
have seen, nominated by the sultan, but his hold on the
people makes him quite an independent power in the state ;
in Cairo he is not even nominated by the Government,
but each school of law chooses its own sheikh, who is
also mufti, and the Hanafite is head mufti because his
school is official in the Turkish empire.
Modern All this gives the judges great private and political in-
cbanges. fluence. But the former is tainted by venality, the plague-
spot of the East, which, aggravated by the scantiness of
judicial salaries or in some cases by the judge having no
salary at all, is almost universal among the administrators
of justice. Their political influence, again, which arises
from the fusion of private and political law in Koran and
Sunna, is highly inconvenient to the state, and often be-
comes intolerable now that relations with Western states
are multiplied. And even in such distant parts as Central
Asia the law founded on the conditions of the Prophet's
lifetime proves so unsuited to modem life that cases are
often referred to civil authorities rather than to canonical
jurists. Thus a customary law {'or/) has there sprung up
side by side with the official sacred law (sharta), much to
the displeasure of the moUahs. In Turkey, and lately above
all in Egypt, it has been found necessary, greatly to limit
the sphere and influence of the canonical jurists and intro-
duce institutions nearer to Western legal usage. We do
not here speak of the paper constitutions (l-hatt-i^sherif)
and the like, created to dupe Western diplomatists and
amuse their authors, but of such things as consular and
commercial courts, criminal codes, and so forth. The pre-
sent sultan seems also to aim at diminishing the power of
the ulema by such measures as frequent changes of the
• Called in Ckmstantinople softa, Persian sOkhta, "burned up," scU.,
with zeal or love to God.
I * In Egypt before the time of Sa'fd Pasha (1854-63) the local judges
^^e^e appointed by the chief cadi of Cairo, whq is sent from Constanti-
nople. Since then they have been nominated by the Egyptian Govem-
meat.
' Zaid and 'Amr are the Caius and Sempronins of Arabian law.
sheikhu 'l-isl4m, though this policy is perhaps less likely
to confirm his power than to rob it of its last supports.
The official hierarchy, strong as it is, divides its power
with the dervishes. A religion which subdues to itself a
race with strongly marked individuality is always influ-
enced in cultus and dogma by the previous views and
tendencies of that race, to which it must in some measure
accommodate itself. Mohammed himself made a concession
to heathen traditions when he recognized the Kaaba and
the black stone ; and the worship of saints, which is now
spread throughout Islam and supported by obviously
forged traditions, is an example of the same thing. So too
are the religious orders now found everywhere except in
some parts of Arabia. Mystical tendencies in Moham-
medanism arose mainly on Persian soil (see vol. xvi. p. 594),
and Von Kremer has shown that these Eastern tendencies
fell in with a disposition to asceticism and flight from the
world which had arisen among the Arabs before Islam
under Christian influence.* Intercourse with India had Sifis an
given Persian mysticism the form of Buddhistic monkery, denishf
while the Arabs imitated the Christian anchorites ; thus
the two movements had an iimer kinship and an outer form
so nearly identical that they naturally coalesced, and that
even the earliest organizations of orders of dervishes,
whether in the East or the West, appeared to Moham-
medan judgment to be of one type. Thus, though the
name of Siifi (see vol. xvi. p. 594) is first apphed to Abd
Hdshim, who died in Syria in 150 a.h. (767), ws find
it transferred without question to the mystical brother-
hood which appears in KhordsAn under Abu Sa'ld about
200 A.H. (815/6). Yet these two schools of S<ifis were
never quite similar ; on Sunnite soil §ufism could not
openly impugn orthodox views, while in Persia it waa
saturated with Shl'ite heresy and the pantheism of the
extreme devotees of 'All (see vol. xvi. p. 593). Thus there
havp always been two kinds of Siifis, and, though the
course of history and the wandering habits which various
orders borrowed from Buddhism have tended to bring them
closer to one another, we still find that of the thirty-six
chief orders three claim an origin from the caliph Abii-
bekr, whom the Sunnites honom-, and the rest from 'AH,
the idol of the Shi'ites.^ Mystic absorption in the being
of God, with an increasing tendency to Pantheism and
ascetic practices, are the main scope of aU Siifism, which is
not necessarily confined to members of orders ; indeed the
secret practice of contemplation of the love of God and
contempt of the world is sometimes viewed as specially
meritorious. And so ultimately the word sufi has come to
denote all who have this religious direction, while those
who follow the special rules of an order are known aa
dervishes (" beggars," in Arabic fukard, sing./a^jr — names
originally designating only the mendicant orders). In
Persia at the present day a Sufi is much the same as a
freethirkker. Several of the chief dervish orders arose in
the evil times before and after the invasion of the Mongols;
thus 'Abd al-Kddir al-Jllinl (d. 561 a.h.; 1165/66)
founded the KAdlrlya order, Ahmad al-Rifd'l (d. 678
A.H. ; 1182/3) the Eifd'iya, Jaldlii '1-dIn Kiiml (see EiJMf)
the Mawlawlya, Abii '1-Hasan al-Sh^dhiU (d. 656 a.h. ;
1258) the Shddhihya, Ahmad al-Badawl (d. 675 a.h.;
1276) the Ahmadiya or Badawlya, an order still very
widely spread in Egjrpt. While civil distress drove men
to flee from the world, the stupid fanaticism of Turkish
rule has helped on the belief in miracles so often associated •
with mysticism and all those deceits that go with the spread
of enthusiastic notions. Of later orders we may name the
* Op. cit., p. 52 sq.
^ These claims to early origin are mere fables, like the claim of the
Oweisi order to spring from Oweis, one of the oldest traditionalists, and
so forth.
SHflTES.]
S U N N I T E Si
663
■Nalfshbetnilya, now the uiost important in the khanates
of Txirkestan, whose founder died 719 A.n. (1319), the
Sa'diya (736 a.h.; 1336), the Bektashlya (758 A.H.; 1357),
the Khalwatiya (800 a.h. ; 1397).i
The modern dervishes have sunk as low as the modern
ulema. The idea of absorbed contemplation of the divine
being, freed from all earthly conceptions, and of mortifica-
tion of the flesh in order to become one with God is grossly
caricatured in the insane bowlings hu hu ("he, he") and
self-torture with red-hot knives, &c., practised by the
"howUng" Rifii'lya and in the dizzy whirling of the
" dancing " Mawla^vfya. Very pestilent too is their tradi-
tional reputation for holiness witii the common people,
while ecstatic piety easily passes into deceit where it is still
generally believed that a saint {wall) can work miracles.
The wandering dervishes especiaUy, who move constantly
from place to place, are noted for all sorts of juggling Im-
postures, by the aid of which, like the Yogis of India, they
live at the cost of the people.^ But they are no longer
trusted or held in much esteem even by the populace,
whereas the conventual orders are usually regarded as
pious and inspired men. Sheikh Al.imad, the founder of
the Badawfya, is the national saint of Egypt, and his tomb
at Tanta is a great place of pilgrimage. The ulema dislike
these rivals, but can do little against their influence.
The bright side in the modern world of Islam is found
among the lower classes. The ruling classes of Turkey
are utterly corrupt, and for centuries their one art of
administration has been to suck the provinces dry. Taxes
are exorbitant and bad laws .check the production of wealth,
■while what remains of the useful institutions and public
works of old time daily decays. To this is added the
recklessness born of a more or less clear co. 'ciousness that
things carmot last as they are. The efFendi of Constanti-
nople has lost faith in his religion and the future of his
race ; as for a sense of honour, as we understand it, that
does not exist in the East. In Egjqjt things have not
been quite so bad since Mohanuned 'All destroyed the
Mamelukes and founded a state with some pretensions to
order and solidity ; selfish as he was, he saw that to main-
tain the revenue it was necessary to stimulate production,
and to this end, amid many mistakes, he took not a few
useful steps. His successors were less wise and skilful,
■yet prosperity increased, and for the first time for centuries
national feeling began to assert itself. But this movement
fell into the hands of the ignorant and fanatical "OrAbi
Pasha (1882) and led to the English occupation and the
entire disorganization of the country, so that Cairo is now
little better than Constantinople,
rer Yet with all this the poorer' classes have not lost their
SOS. vigour, and among them Islam has still a deep-rooted
strength. The common Turk of Roumclia or Asia Minor is
still a solid sober honest fellow and a brave soldier, always
ready to make e.very sacrifice for his religion. In Egypt
the morality of the people has sufl'ered from the great
foreign immigration, which has introduced many evil ele-
ments as well as some good ; yet even here the great mass
of both townsmen and peasants are loyal to the old faith
and to the traditional sobriety and parsimony which the
nature of the country itself prescribes. These qualities
taken with the undoubted intelligence of the Arabian
population give hope of a revival of prosperity on the Nile
■under more favourable political conditions. The people
have a persuasion of the superiority of their religion, which,
1 Tho best account of the dervishes is still that in D'Ohsson, TahUau
Ofmtral de V Emp. Ottoman, vol. ii., Paris, 1790.
' These mendicants belong in part to orders like the Bcklashiya and
Rifa'iya, whoso other members live in convents (Khangah, Takiya) ;
in part they are Kalanderlya (CalanJers), i.e., bound by Iho rule of
Kalander, a discipio of Bektasb, which enjoins constant waodering.
while it often makes necessary reforms difficult, prevents
them from losing national individuality and self-reliance,
and the belief in predestination gives a certain dignity
and self-possession under calamities, without excluding
foresight and activity in daily duty. Bnt whether all
this is enough to secure the jjolitical revival of the Sunmte
commonwealths is doubtful in face of the preponderating
influence on all the coasts of the Levant of Western civiliza-
tion, which as yet is almost entirely a disintegrating force
and seems certain to prevent a redintegration of Islam in
Turkey, and probably also in Egypt. The khanates, again,
are sunk in incredible moral corruption cloaked by blind
fanaticism, while most of the Bedouin tribes of Arabia
have known little about Koran and religion for tho last
eight centuries.^ Islam has certainly still a great future
in Central Africa, but this can hardly lead to veritable
reformation of its system. Still there are many evidences
that the faith is not yet dead even in its old realms. We
lay no stress on the existence of various sects opposed to
the current Sunnite orthodoxy, such as tho puritanical
Wahhabites of Arabia and India, or the Druses (q.v.),
Nosairfya, Isma'iliya, and Metwillfya of Syria, who are
tinged vdlh. Shl'ite views and belong only politically to the
Sunnite section of Islam. But in India there are still
living seeds of further development within Islam proper.
Under English control the ulema are unable to maintain
the same spiritual tyi-anny over men's minds as elsewhere,
and we find more mutual toleration between Sunna and
Shl'a, an easy accommodation to local tradition,* and even
an ability to leave the grooves of AJ-Ash'arl's scholasticism
and approach the ideas of the old rationalistic Mo'tazilites.
Movements in this direction have come to light quite
recently ; but their further growth need not here be specu-
lated on.*
ShI'ites.
The extreme Shi'ite view that 'AU is to be regarded as
an incarnation of the Godhead (see vol. xvi. pp. 568, 592)
maintained its predominance only in times when and places
where the opposition to the sovereignty of the Omayyads
and 'AbbAsids was intense, or where pantheistic influences
from India were at work. From the first there existed
also a milder form of Shf ite faith, which soon was at open
war vrith the fanatical Ism.Vlliya and their disciples, the
Fitimites and Assassins (vol. xvi. p. 593 sy.)."
It was through the moderate ShCitcs that tho caliph SI li'ito
Ma'miln thought to reconcile his dynasty with tho house dynas-
of 'AH (vol. xvi. p. 581), and it was this party that became p|;J'Jj^
dominant in Persia in the 10th Christian century under
the Bilyids. When they conquered BaghdAd the Buyids
abstained from interfering with the Sunnite orthodoxy of
the populations of the capita) and Arabian 'IrAk, but tho
Shfito faith was openly professed in their courts at Kai,
Shirdz, and Kirmin. But in the next century the power
of the Shfito dynasty crumbled and fell before tho Ghaz-
nevids and Seljuljs, who as Turks were Sunnitcs, and
repressed the opposing views. In the 13th century tho
Mohammedan East was overrun by tho Mongols, who at
first were indifferent to all religion, and gave the Persian
Shl'itcs perfect liberty; later on the great-grandson of
Jonghis IChAn, Mohammed Khodahbende Ocljitu (1303-16),
=> Scfir Namdi, ed. Scliefcr, Paris, 1881, pp. 30 sq., '-iSS.
* Seo Garcin do Tassy, " Siir les partieularites de la rcl. mus. dans
I'Inde," reprinted i[i L'hlamisme, 3d cd., Paris, 1874, pp. 290 sj.,
206 sq. Tho Wahhabites protest against this laxity.
» See Syed .iVmeer 'All, Personal Law of Mohammedans, London.
1880, preface.
« When tho Fitimito lords of Egypt tried to enter into relations
with tho moderato Shi'ite Buyids in Baghdiid tlicy were met wilb
polite reserve, and subsequently public protests against them cmaiialej
from the 'Alide circles of that city (Wustenfcld, OtschichU Utr fiW-
vUden-Chulifcn, Gottingen, 1881, pv 1*7, '-37).
664
SUNN [ T E !S
[sHi'n:
himself became a Shi'ite ; nor was the progress of the sect
checked by the fall of the dynasty and the conquests of
Tfmilr (1387), who veiled his religious indifference by
proclaiming himself an admirer of 'All. Thus the mass of
the Persian population remained Shl'ites, and the Tfmurides
accommodated themselves to the religious feelings of their
subjects. Timiir's son, Shdh Rokh, even built and furnished
forth the tomb of the un4m RizA in Meshhed (Meshed).
The troublous times that followed and the intervention
in Persian affairs of the Sunnite Ak-Koynnlu (see vol. xviii.
p.632 «j.) must have been unfavourable to Shi'ite principles;
but they gained a final victory through the Safawi dynasty,
whose founder, Shdh Ismi'Il (1499-1523), gave the Shi'ite
doctrine, in the form in which it is held by the Ithnd-
"Asharlya, the position it stiU has as the state religion of
Persia.
The Ithnd-'Asharfya, or "Twelvers," a sect of th& moder-
ate Shl'ites, have their name from the respect they pay to
'All and his eleven immediate heirs through FAtima,
daughter of the Prophet. Like all Shl'ites, they hold that
'All was designated as his successor by Mohammed,^ and
unjustly thrust aside by the three actual caliphs, Abubekr,
'Omar, and 'Othmdn. Still more do they hate the Omayyad
enemies of 'AU and his house (see vol. xvi. p. 563). They
and the 'Abbdaids were usurpers, the true caliphs de jure
being the imdms — (1) 'AH; (2) Hasan; (3) Hosain, then
his heirs in the direct line— (4) 'AU 11. ; (5) Mohammed
al-Bdkir; (6) Ja'far al-Sddit; (7) MdsA al-KAzim; (8)
'All UI. al-Kidd (in modern pronunciation Eiza); (9)
Mohammed II.' al-JawAd; (10) 'AH TV. al-'Askarl ; (11)
Hasan II. al-Khamt; (12) Mohammed IH. al-Mahdl, who
lived in the second half of the 3d century of the Flight
(9th century a.d.), and to whom his Shi'ite partisans looked
to free them from the 'Abbdsid yoke. These hopes failed
and he himself disappeared, whence the belief grew that
he was concealed in a cave at Samaxra and would return
at the end of days. Meantime the sovereignty belongs to
the other descendants of 'AH, the Sayyids (lords). In
fact the Safawis claimed descent from the seventh imim,
and neither the Afghan Nadir Shdh, who overthrew their
power, nor the Kajars, who now reign, are regarded as
legitimate. The false position which the royal house
stands in with the clergy is an important element in the
weakness of the crumbling state of Persia.
All other points in which Shl'ites differ from Sunnites
depend on their legitimistic opinions, or are accommoda-
tions of the rites of Islam to the Persiap nationality, or
else are petty matters affecting ceremonial. The rejection
of the whole Sunnite traditions goes with the repudiation
of the caliphs under whose protection these were handed
down.2 An allegorical and mystical interpretation recon-
ciles the words of the Koran with the inordinate respect
paid to 'AH ; the Sunnite doctrine of the uncreated Koran
is denied. To the Mohammedan confession " There is no
god but God and Mohammed is His ambassador" they
add "and 'All is the vicegerent of God" {wali, properly
"confidant"). There are some modifications in detail
as to the four main religious duties of Islam, — the pre-
scriptions of ritual purity, in particular, being absurdly
exaggerated and made the main duty of the faithful.
The prayers are almost exactly the same, but to take part
in public worship is not obligatory, as "there is at present
no legitimate imdm whose authority can direct the prayer
' To make this credible divers passages of the Koran have been
changed from the received readings, and ultimately a special siira was
forged out of Koran phrases. See Noldeke, Gesch. des Qorarts, p.
220 sg.
a But the comparison of Shl'ites with Protestants is rutile. Shl'ites
have their own tradition (^hadis) referred to 'Ali, which is grossly dis-
torted,— indeed a tissue oflies.
d ttf) congregation. Pilgrimage to Mecca, to which the
Sunnite indwellers of 'Irdk and Arabia oppose difiBcultiea,
though since the reign of 'Abd al-MejId it is officially
thrown open to all, may be performed by a hired substi-
tute,2 or its place can be taken by a visit to the tombs of
Shi'ite saints, e.g., that of 'All at Nejef, of Hosain at Ker-
beU, of KizA at Meshhed, or of the " unstained Fdtima "
at Kum (Fiitima-i-ma'asilm, daughter of Musd, the 7th
imdm). 'The Shl'ites are much the most zealous of Moslems
in the worship of saints (real or supposed descendants of
'All) and in pilgrimages to th^ graves, and they have a
characteristic eagerness to be buried in those holy places.
The Persians have an hereditary love for pomps and festivi-
ties, and so the Shl'ites have devised many religious feasts.
Of these the great sacrificial feast (^id-i-Kurbdn ; Turkish
Kurbdn Bairdm) is also Simnite ; the first ten days of the
month Moharram are dedicated to the mourning for the
death of Hosain at Kerbeld (vol. rvi. p. 568), which is cele-
brated by passion-plays {ta'zlya ; see vol. xviii. p. 660),
while the universal joy of the Nauroz, or the New Year
of the Old Persian calendar, receives a Mohammedan sane
tion by the tradition that on this day the Prophet conferred
the caliphate on 'AH.*
While they naturally reject the four Sunnite schools of
jurisprudence, the Shl'ites also derive all law from the
Koran, and their trained clergy (moUahs) are the only class
that can give legitimate legal responses. The training of
the moUah resembles that of the Sunnite 'dlim. The course
at the madrasa embraces grammar, with some rhetoric and
prosody, logic, dogmatic, Koran exegesis, tradition, and
jurisprudence, and finally some arithmetic and algebra.
The best madrasa is at KerbeU.' But the best students
of KerbeU are mo match even for the Sunnite disciples of
Bokhdrd.^ The scholar discharged from his studies becomes
first a simple moUah, i.e., local judge and. notary.'' A small
place has one such judge, larger towns a college of judges
under a head called the sheikhu 'l-Isldm. The place of the
Sunnite muftis is filled by certain of the imdm-jurrCa, i.e., offlct
presidents of the chief mosques in the leading towns, who
in respect of this function bear the title of imdm mvjtehid.
This is a dignity conferred by the tacit consent of people
and clergy, and is held at one time only by a very few dis-
tinguished men. At the begirning of the 19th century
there were but five mujtehids in Persia; now (1887) they
seem to be more numerous. In Persia the cadi (hdzi) is
an inferior judge who acts for the sheikhu 'l-Islim in special
cases, and a mufti is a soUcitor acting under the judge to
prepare cases for court.
Under the Safawis, when the clergy had great influence,
they had at their head the sadru 'ssodur, who administered
all pious foundations and was the highest judicial authority.
But so great a power was found dangerous ; 'Abbds the
Great (1586-1628) abstained from filling up a vacancy
which occurred in it, and, though Shdh Sell (1628-1641)
restored the ofl5co, he placed it in commission. Nddir
Shdh abolished it in his attempt to get rid of the Shi'ite
hierarchy (1736), and since then it has not been restored.
Yet the imdm-jum'a of Ispdhdn, the old Safawi capital, is
tacitly regarded as representative of the invisible imdm of
the house of 'All, who is the true head of the church.
Various vain attempts have been made in the 19th century
to subordinate the authority of the clergy to the Government.
These attempts had the sympathy of the better classes.
3 This the Sunnites also allow under certain conditions.
* Without this sanction the Nauroz was celebrated even at conrt
under the 'Abbasids. It is the only feast still celebrated by the poor
as well as the rich.
° On Turkish soil ; but the Shi'ite foundations there are Tolerated.
« Polak, Persien, Leipsic, 1865, i. 290.
' No contract, especially no contract of marriage, is valid unless
made before a mollah. An ordinary inferior judge is called darigha.
«m"ITES.]
SUNNITES
665
for the venality and moral corruption of the mollahs and
their disposition to the most vulgar fraud are proverbial.
But, on the other hand, the clerical power and the right
of asylum at Meshhed, Kum, and some other sanctuaries
are the only protection of the masses against the arbitrary
tyranny of the court and the oflBcials. There is now a sort
of truce between the Government and the clergy, though
the former is always suspicious of the latter. Only the
venality of the spiritual courts has led, as in Turkestan, to
a limitation of their jurisdiction, and judicial decisions are
given also by civil magistrates according to 'o/ or custom-
ary law and, although their decisions are often arbitrary,
they are commonly resorted to in cases aflfecting property,
in which the spiritual judge would think it his duty to "eat
up " the sum in dispute. The main prop of the mollahs
against the Government are the scum of the population,
the liitU or foul rowdies. In 1862, according to Vdm-
b^ry, the imdm-jum'a of Ispdhdn Lad at hia orders a
thousand of these scoundrels.
The rivals of the clergy in popular influence are the
dervishes, whose show of holiness cloaks an immorality
and propensity to crime far exceeding what is found among
their brethren in Egypt and Turkey. So it has been for
centuries, as appears in Olearius's account of the Calanders
of his time (1637). Supported by popular superstition,
the Persian dervishes are much more pretentious than those
of the West. At the great feasts especially they quarter
themselves impudently in wealthy houses and deafen the
indwellers with their unceasing cry of Yd hahk (" O
Truth!" the mystical equivalent of "0 God!"').' The
wise and modest dervish who in Sa'dl's poems tells the
greatest sultan the truth as to the hoUowness of his royal
state has degenerated into the half-mad and insolent
hanger-on who thrusts himself into audience-chambers and
claims the scat of honour beside the grandees. The mul-
titude of these motley vagabonds, some harmless, others
dangerous, is explained by the love for idleness, buffoonery,
and story-telling, which is even more marked in Persia than
in other parts of the East.
tiouB The great practical difference between the Sunnite and
"y Shl'ite communities is that amoi g the former it is only
with the upper classes, who are few in number, and with
the worse sort of dervishes that obedience to the precepts
of religion is a mere formal profession. Most of the ulema
and the middle and lower classes are sincere Moslems. In
Persia it is the other way ; the praise of religion is always
on men's lips, but the Lnrer conviction is that it is all a
mockery. The clergy laugh inwardly at their own func-
^tions; the educated classes either believe nothing at all or
|hold secretly to a Siifl pantheism. Sa'di and H.-lfiz are
much more to them than the Koran; and, while the Sunnite
takes his sortes biblicx from the Koran, the ShCite uses a
copy of the songs of Hifii. With the common people it
is not the proper precepts of Islam, but the Shl'ite tenets
directed against Sunnites and Jews, that find hearty ad-
herence. The death-feast, of Hasan and Hosain excites
them far more than the great sacrificial feast; and 'AH, the
national saint, is much more popular than Mohammed.
Islam, as it was forced on Persia by 'Omar, was the faith
of foreign conquerors and oppressors ; and the people have
revenged' themselves, by travestying it and veiling their old
convictions under its outward forms. And so Islam has
never had any considerable influence on conduct save that
it has confirmed the natural turn of the Persians for lying
and hypocrisy. As it was long necessary to profess ortho-
doxy for fear of the Arabs, it came to be an established
^Shl'ite doctrine that it is lawful to deny one's faith in case
of danger. This "caution" (lapj/a) ,ot "concealment"
(keiindn) has become a second nature with the Persians.
And with this it goes that no one shrinks from secret sina.
2y— 24'
though outwardly professing the utmost devotion. The
preparation of -wine and spirits, for example, is confined
to Jews and Armenian Christians, but private drunkenness
is most common. Very conscientious or pious people,
however — e.cf., the dervishes — use rather opium or hashish
and confound the narcotic intoxication with mystic ecstasy.
Another mischievous thing is the permission of temporary
marriages, — marriages for a few hours on a money pay-
ment. This legitimized harlotry {mot'a) is forbidden by
the Simna, but the Shl'ites allow it, and the mollahs adjust
the contract and share the women's profits. -
With all this, modern observers are agreed that the
middle and lower classes of Persia are not hopeless, and
that their natural intelligence, though combined with lack
of perseverance, would make it much easier for them than
for the Turks to take a new start if they were freed from
the wretched civil and ecclesiastical administration. There
is still mental life and vigour among them, as appears —
though in an unfavourable aspect — among the sects, which,
allowance being made for " takiya," play no inconsiderable
part. The AkhbArls (traditionalists), who adopt a semi-
philosophical way of explaining away the jilainest doctrines
(such as the resurrection of the flesh) on the authority of
false traditions of 'All, are not so much a sect as a school
'of theology wdthin the same pale as the orthodox Shi'a or'
mvjtehidU?- A real dissenting sect, however, is the Shelkhfs;
of whose doctrines we have but imperfect and discrepant
accounts.^ Representatives of the old extreme Shl'ites,_
who held 'All for a divine incarnation, are found all over
Persia in the 'AH-Ililhl or 'AU-Allihl sect ("'All deifiers").^
Finally, in the year 1848 there broke out a violent Bibf
reaction against the wretched condition of state and church mova-
at a moment when a new succession to the throne had (as is "'"^
wont) involved great part of the land in anarchy (comp. vol. '
xviii. p. 651). As early as 1837 a young enthusiast, 'All
(son of) Mohammed, imbued with pantheistic and commun-
istic ideas,* had begun a peaceable but zealous propaganda.
Consistently enough with ultra-Shl'ite principles, he deemed
himself inspired by the spirit of God, and claimed to be
the Mahdl, the twelfth imAm, issued from his obscurity to
lead the world to salvation. He took the title of Bib al-
dfn ("portal of the faith"), and his followers are known.
as B4bls. BAb was a man of profound sincerity -and
averse to violent measures ; he avoided all open polemic
against the Government, which in turn at first tolerated
him in its jealousy of the clergy. In 1844 the too great
zeal of his follower MoUah Hosain occasioned Bdb's im-
prisonment ; but Hosain and his emissaries continued the
propaganda and made many converts in all provinces.
When the troubles of 1848 broke out Hosain raised open
rebellion in Mazenderdn. Terrible conflicts ensued, made
only more bitter by the execution of BAb (18th July 1849).
Apparently suppressed, the movement proved that it was
not extinct in an attempt to assassinate the shdh in 1852.,
A new proscription followed ; but there is no doubt that
Bdbism still lives in secrecy, and the universal sympathy
' The orthodox are so called because they allow the authority of
the mujtehid [supra, p, 664). See Gobmeau, Lcs lidigions, &c., dant.
I'AsieCmtrale, Pari'), 1806, p. 23 sq.
' Gobincau [op. cil., p. 30) reckons them as orthodox; 'but see Polak,
Persien, Leipsic, 1865, i. 318 ; comp. also Von lircmer, Ocscli. d.
herrschendcn IJeen des Islatns, p. 206 sj. (after Kazcm Beg).
' See Polak, op. cil., p. 319; Malcolm, Hist, of Persia, ii. 382;
Rehatsek, in Jouni. Ji.S.A. (Bombay branch), 1880, p. 424. LangleJ,
in CharJin, Voyages, 1811, x. 241, says that at the begiuuiiig of tha
19th ceutuiy their chief stats were north of Kandahar and Kabul
(Cabul), and at Kabhan.
* The fusion of these two tendencies is ic Persia as old as Maidak
(vol. xviii. p, 611). Communistic risings constantly took place in
various parts of Pcr.ia under the caliphs, and tliat of Babck endaugcnd'
the empire for twenty years (till 837 A.D.). The coipmuuisls wcr»
afterwards absorbed in the Ishmaeliles (see vol, xvi. p. 593 sj.), whoai
powiT was extinguished by the Xlonaols (1256''
666
S U N — S U N
felt for the martyr Bib among generously minded Persians
may still give it a future.^
Less dangerous than these bold communists are the
Ishmaelites, direct descendants of the old Ismd'lllya, whose
nihilist doctrines are now diluted into a harmless doctrine of
incarnation. They are pretty numerous in India, at Bombay,
Surat, and Burhampur, but hardly are found in Persia.^
Despite their mutual feuds, Sunnites and Shi'ites are at one in their
latred and contempt for the professors of other religions. Holding
that faith and unbelief are matter of predestination, Islam is not
given to forcible proselytizing, and on certain conditions Christians
and Jews (and later on Zoroastrians also) have always been tolerated
in the Mohammedan empire, except that 'Omar, mainly on political
grounds, expelled all non-Moslems from Ai-abia. But none the less
the adherents of ojther faiths are hated and despised as children of
hell and enemies of true religion. To reconcile the present decay
of Islam' and prosperity of the unbeliever with their /eeliugs and
convictions, Sunnites and Shi'ites alike take refuge in the doctrine
of a restoration of Islam before the end of the world through the
y "divinely guided" Mahdi. In view of the interest in the subject
excited by recent events, some addition may here be made to the
trief statement in the article Mahdi.' Originally, as has been
shown in that article, the idea of a god-sent deliverer from the ille-
gitimate caliphs was attached by the Shi'ites to actual cretenders
of the house of 'All ; but later on, and especially since the days of
the Mongols, the figure of the Mahdi was projected into the far
future, and ultimately his irrival was made a sign of the end of the
world. Among the Sunnites, on the other hand, who could not
accept the Shi ite pretenders, some of those who felt that the
Omayvid sovereignty was not ti'uly spiritual and worthy of Islam
borrowed the Christian hope of the second coming of Christ, whom
Islam acknowledges as a prophet and precursor of Mohammed, and
whose return at the end of tlio world seemed to accord with some
vague passages of the Koran ; others looked, like the Shi'ites, for a
deliverer from earthly tyranny, but did not tie themselves to the
lielief that he must spring from the house of "All. When the theo-
logians of 'Abbisid times began to systematize the religious tradi-
tions they found some that spoke of a return of Jesus and otliers
referring to a Mahdi. These they combined together, so that
Sunnites now believe that, when unrighteousness is at its height
upon earth and the victory of the enemies of Islam seems sure, the
Mahdi will appear to destroy the uubelievei-s and establish God's
kingdom on earth. Then the Antichrist (dajjdl) will work new
mischief, but be destroyed by Jesus, who appears as precursor of the
last judgment. Sunnite theologians have not all been at one in
expecting a Mahdi as well as Jesus, but this is the view generally
current in recent times ; and Sunnites and Shi'ites are agreed that
the Mahdi will destroy the external foes of Islam, i.e., all non-
Mohammedan powers. Theologians have tried by arrilicial inter-
pretation of Koran and Sunna to fix when and how the Jlahdi is
to appear, and have concluded that he must be looked for at the
close of a century. Of this widespread belief Mohammed Ahmed,
the Sudanese Mahdi, availed himself in coming forward in the
year 1300 of the Flight (1882-83). Theological opinion is so un-
settled as to all the details of the Mahdi's work that, according to
trustworthy information, his death has not seriously impaired the
impression produced by his victories. In Mecca, for example, iu
1885 it was commonly held to be conceivable that the Sudanese
fighting in his name might destroy England and the Western
powers"; and it is possible that the belief in this latest Mahdi has
Btill an important part to play iu the Eastern question. (A. MO.)
SUNSTROKE (Fea(s«TOi-«; Insolation; Coup de Sohil;
Thermic Fever), a term applied to the effects produced
upon the central nervous system, and through it upon
other organs of the body, by exposure to the sun or to over-
heated air. Although most frequently observed in tropical
regions, this disease occurs also in temperate climates during
hot weather. A moist condition of the atmosphere, which
interferes with cooling of the overheated body, greatly
increases the liability to suffer from this ailment.
Sunstroke has been chiefly observed and investigated
as occurring among soldiers in India, where formerly, both
in active service and in the routine of ordinary duty, cases
of this disease constituted a considerable item of sickness
1 See on Bab and B.ibism, Mirza Kazem Beg, in Journ. Asiatique,
ter. 6, vols. vii. viii. ; Gobiueau, op. cit., where there is a translation
of Bab's new Koran ; Von Kremer, op. dt.Tv- lO^'sg.
"• See Garciu de Tassy, L'Islamisme, 3d ed. (1874), p. 298, and
Eehatsek, ut sup. „
3 Compare especially Snouck Hurgronje, "Der Mahdi, in Revue
Coloniale Internatimale, 1885, an article based on wide reading and
persoual observalious at JeJdali aud Mecca
and mortality. The increased attention now paid by
military authorities to the personal health and comfort of
the soldier, particularly as regards barrack accommodation
and dress, together with the care taken in adjusting the
time and mode of inovement of troops, has done much
to lessen the mortality from this cause. It would appear
that, while any one exposed to the influence of strong solar
heat may suffer from the symptoms of sunstroke, there are
certain conditions which greatly predispose to it in the
case of individuals. Causes calculated to depress the
health, such as previous disease, particularly affections of
the nervous system, — anxiety, worry, or overwork, irregu-
larities iu food, and in a marked degree intemperance —
have a powerful predisposing influence, while personal un-
cleanliness, which prevents among other things the healthy
action of the skin, the wearing of tight garments, which
impede the functions alike of heart and lungs, and living
in overcrowded and insanitary dwellings have an equally
hurtful tendency.
While attacks of sunstroke are frequently precipitated
by exposure, especially during fatigue, to the direct rays
of the sun, in a large number of instances they come on
under other circumstances. Cases are of not unfrequent
occurrence among soldiers in hot climates when there is
overcrowding or bad ventilation in their barracks, and
sometimes several wLU be attacked in the course of a single
night. The same remark applies to similar conditions
existing on shipboard. Farther, persons whose occupa-
tion exposes them to excessive heat, such as stokers, laundry
workers, ic, are apt to suffer, particularly in hot seasons.
In the tropics Europeans, especially those who have recently
arrived, are more readily affected than natives. But
natives are not exempt.
The symptoms of heatstroke, which obviously depend
upon the disorganization of the normal heat -regulating
mechanism, as well as of the functions of circulation and
respiration (see Pathology, vol. xviii. p. 394), vary in their
intensity and likewise to some extent in their form. Three
chief types of the disease are usually described.
(1) Heat Syncope. — In this form the sj-mptoms are those
of exhaustion, with a tendency towards fainting or its
actual occurrence. A fully developed attack of this descrip-
tion is usually preceded by sickness, giddiness, some amount
of mental excitement followed by drowsiness, and then
the passage into the syncopal condition, in which there are
pallor and coldness of the skin, a weak, quick, and inter-
mittent pulse, and gasping or sighing respiration. The
pupils are often contracted. Death may quickly occur; but
if timely treatment is available recovery may take place.
(2) Ileat Apoplexy or Asphyxia. — In this variety the
attack, whether preceded or not by the premonitory symp-
toms already mentioned, is usually sudden, and occurs in
the form of an apoplectic seizure, with great vascular
engorgement, as seen in the flushed face, congested eyes,
quick full pulse, and stertorous breathing. There is
usually insensibility, and convulsions are not unfrequent.
Death is often very sudden. This form, however, is also
amenable to treatment.
(3; Ardent Thermic Fever.— Vsns variety is characterized
chiefly by the excessive development of fever (hyper-
pyrexia), the temperature of the body rising at such times
to 108° to 110° Falir. or more. Accompanying this are the
other symptoms of high febrile disturbance, such as great
thirst, quick lull pulse, pains throughout the body, head-
ache, nausea, and vomiting, together with respiratory em-
barrassment. After the attack has lasted for a variable
ppriod, often one or two days, death ma^ ensue from
collapse or from tbe case assuming the apoplectic form
already described. But here too treatment may be suc-
cessful if it is promptly applied.
S U P — S U R
667
Besides these, other varieties depending on the pro-
minence of certain symptoms are occasionally met with.
The chief changes in the body after death from heatstroke
are those of anaemia of the brain and congestion of the
lungs, together with softness of the heart and of the
muscular tissues generally. The blood is dark and fluid
and the blood corpu-scles are somewhat altered in shape.
Attacks of sunstroke are apt to leave traces of their effects
upon the constitution, especially upon the nervous system.
A liability to severe headache, which in many cases would
seem to depend upon a condition of chronic meningitis,
epileptic fits, mental irritability, and alterations in the
disposition are among the more important. It is often
observed that heat in any form is ever afterwards ill
borne, while there also appears to be an abnormal suscep-
tibility to the action of stimulants. The mortality from
sunstroke is estimated at from 40 to 50 per cent.
Treatment. — In respect of this disease means should be adopted
to prevent attacks in the case of those wlio must necessarily be
exposed to the sun. These consist in. the wearing of loose clothing,
with the exception of tho headdress, which ought to be worn close
to the head, in due attention to the function of the skin, and in
the avoidance of alcohoUo and other excesses. Cold water may be
drunk in small quantities at frequent intervals. Sleeping in the
open air in very hot seasons is recummcnded. The treatment of
n patient sufl'ering from an attack necessarily depends upon the
form it has assumed. In all cases he should ii possible be at once
removed into a shaded or cool place. 'ATiere the symptoms are
mostly those of sj-ncope and there is a tendency to death from
heart failure, rest in the recumbent position, the use of diffusible
stimulants, such as ammonia or ether, &c., together with friction
or warmth applied to the extremities, are the means to be adopted.
, Where, on Hio other hand, the symptoms are those of apoplexy or
«f hyperpyrexia, by far the most successful results are obtained
by the use of cold (the cold affusion, rubbing the surface with ice,
cnemata of ice-cold water). The effect is a marked lowering of
the temperature, while at the same time a stimulus is given to the
respiratory function. JIustard or turpentine applied to the nape
of the neck or chest is a useful adjuvant. Should the temperature
be lowered in this way but unconsciousness still persist, removal
of the hair and blistering the scalp are recommended. The sub-
sequent treatment will depend upon the nature of the resulting
symptoms, but change to a cool climate is often followed by
marked benefit. (J. 0. A.)
SUPERIOR, Lake. See Lake and St Laweence.
SURABAYA. See Java, vol. xiii. p. 605 sq. The
population in 1880 was 122,234.
SURAKARTA, or Solo. See Java, vol. xiii. pp. 601,
606 sq. Its population was 124,041 in 1880.
SUilAT, a district of British India, in the Guzerat
division of Bombay presidency, lying between 20° 15' and
21° 28' N. lat. and 72° 38' and 73° 30' E. long. It has an
area of 1662 square miles, and is bounded on the N. by
Broach district and the native state of Baroda ; on the E.
by tho states of Rajpipla, the Gdikwir BAnsda, and Dhar-
ampur ; on tho S. by ThAna district and tho Portuguese
territory of Daman ; and on the W. by the Arabian Sea.
It has a coast-lino of 80 miles, consisting of a barren stretch
of sand drift and salt marsh ; behind that is a rich highly
cultivated plain, nearly 60 miles in breadth at tho em-
bouchure of the TApti, but narrowing to only 1 5 miles in
the southern part ; and on the north-east are the wild hills
and jungle of tho Dangs. The only important rivers aro
tho 'Tiipti and the Kim, the former of which is ordinarily
navigable for native craft of from 18 to 3G tons. Tho
district contains a large number of tanks for irrigation ;
and a canal is projected from tho T.Apti with licad works
at KamlApur, 35 miles from Surat. "Tho fauna of the dis-
trict consists of a few tigers, stragglers from the jungles
of BAnsda and Dharampur, besides leopards, bears, wild
boars, wolves, hyainas, spotted deer, and antelopes. Tho
climate of Surat varies with tho distance from the sea.
Near the coast, under the influence of tho sea-breeze, an
equable temperature prevails, but 8 to 11 miles inland the
breeze ceases to blow. The coast also possesses a much
lighter rainfall than the interior, the annual average
ranging from 30 inches in OlpAd to 72 in Chikhli, while at
Surat city the average is 46 inches. The Bombay, Baroda,
and Central India Railway runs through the district from
north to south. A magnificent iron-gii'der bridge crosses
the Tdpti at Surat city.
The census of 1S81 returned the population of Surat at 614,198
(306,015 males, 308,183 females), of whom Hindus numbered 415,031,
Mohammedans 55,5i7, Parsis 12,593, and aboriginals 118,664,
There are only two towns in the district with a population exceed-
ing 5000,— namely, SuBAT {q.v.) and Bulsar (13,229). The culti-
vated area in 1884-85 was returned at 726,583 acres, and the area
available for cultivation at 81,603. The total area of crops in 1884-
85 was 550,233 acres, including 66,096 twice cropped. Rice occu-
pied 103,972 acres, wheat 38,617, amljodr 108,644; cotton is also
largely cultivated, and its culture is greatly increasing. Grain,
cotton, timber, oil, sugar and molasses, and piece goods are the
chief articles of export. Almost the whole female population is
engaged in spinning cotton thread, and the weaving of cotton cIot}i
in nand looms is carried on in the chief towns ; silk is also manu-
factured in considerable quantities, as well as brocades and em-
broidery. In 1884-85 the revenue of the district aubouuted to
£378,061, of which the land-tax contributed £268,644. Surat was
one of the earliest parts of India brought into close relations with
European countries, and its history merges almost entirely into
that of its capital, long the greatest maritime city of the peninsula.
By an arrangement made in 1799 the English were placed in posses-
sion of Surat city and the town of Randcr ; subsequent cessions
under the treaties of Bassein (1802) and Poona (1817), together
with the lapse of the Mandvi state in 1839, brought the district
into its present shape. Since the introduction of British rule the
district has remained comparatively tranquil ; and even during the
period of the mutiny peace was not disturbed, owing ui a great mea-
sure to the steadfast loyalty of its leading Mohammedan families.
SURAT, capital and administrative headquarters of
the above district, is situated in 21° 9' 30" N. lat. and
72° 54' 15" E. long., on the southern bank of the TApti,
distant from the sea 14 miles by water and 10 by land.
Its origin appears to be comparatively modern, tradition
assigning the foundation of the town to the beginning of
the 16th century.. As early as 1514 it was de.scribed by
the Portuguese traveller Barbosa as a "very important
seaport." During the reigns of Akbar, JahAngir, and
ShAh JahAn it rose to be the chief commercial city of
India. From 1573 to 1612 the Portuguese were undis-
puted masters of the Surat seas and part of the seaboard.
But shortly after 1612 the city of Surat became the seat
of a presidency under the English East India Company,
and the Dutch also had made it their principal factory in
India. During the 18th century it probably ranked as
the most populous city of India, its population being at
one time estimated as high as 800,000; but with the
transfer of its trade to Bombay the numbers rapidly fell
off, until in 1847 its inhabitants numbered only 80,000.
Thenceforward the city began to retrieve its position, and
in 1881 its population niunbered 107,154 (54,524 males
and 52,630 females).
SURBITON, a suburb of Kingston in Surrey, England,
is finely situated on the river Thames, 12 miles south-west
of London by the London and South -Western Railway.
It consists chiefly of villa residences embosomed in woods
and gardens. Along the river an esplanade has been con-
structed, forming a pleasant promenade. Surbiton is tho
headquarters of the Kingston Rowing Club and tho Thames
SaQing Club. The recreation ground, in connexion with
which there is a reading-room and library, is much fre-
quented for athletic meetings and bicycle races. In tho
town there is a cottage hospital. The population of the
urban sanitary district (area, 1000 acres) in 1871 waa
7642, and in 1881 it was 9406.
SURETY, in law, is tho party liable under a contract
of Guarantee (^.v.). In criminal practice sureties bound
by Recognizance (q.v.) are a means of obtaining compliance
with the order of a court of justice, yhcther to keep tUo
peace or otherwise.
668
SURFACE
SURFACE, CONGRUENCE, COMPLEX. In the
article Curve the subject was treated from an historical
point of view for the purpose of showing how the leading
ideas of the theory were successively arrived at. These
leading ideas apply to surfaces, but the ideas peculiar to
surfaces are scarcely of the like fundamental nature, being
rather developments of the former set in their application
to a more advanced portion of geometry; there is conse-
iuently less occasion for the historical mode of treatment.
Curves in space were briefly considered in the same article,
and they will not be discussed here ; but it is proper
to refer to them in connexion with the other notions of
solid geometry. In plane geometry the elementary figures
are the point and the line; and we then have the curve,
which may be regarded as a singly infinite system of points,
and also as a singly infinite system of lines. In solid geo-
metry the elementary figures are the point, the line, and
the plane; we have, moreover, first, that which under one
aspect is the curve and under another aspect the develop-
able (or torse), and which may be regarded as a singly in-
finite system of points, of lines, or of planes ; and secondly,
the surface, which may be regarded as a doubly infinite
system of points or of planes, and also as a special triply
infinite system of lines. (The tangent lines of a surface are
a special complex.) As distinct particular cases of the
first figure we have the plane curve and the cone, and as
a particular case of the second figure the ruled surface,
regulus, or singly infinite system of lines ; we have, be-
sides, the congruence or doubly infinite system of lines
and the complex or triply infinite system of lines. And
thus crowds of theories arise which have hardly any ana-
logues in plane geometry; the relation of a curve to the
various surfaces which can be drawn through it, and that
of a surface to the various curves which can be drawn
upon it, are diSerent in kind from those which in plane
■geometry most nearly correspond to them, — the relation
of a system of points to the difi"erent curves through them
and that of a curve to the systems of points upon it. In
particular, there is nothing in plane geometry to correspond
to the theory of the curves of curvature of a surface. Again,
to the single theorem of plane geometry, that a line is the
shortest distance between two points, there correspond in
solid geometry two extensive and difficult theories, — that
of the geodesic lineson a surface and that of the minimal
surface, or surface of minimum area, for a given bouiidaxy.
And it would be easy to say more in illustration of the
great extent and complexity of the subject.
Surfaces in General; Torses, <fcc.
1. A surface may be regarded as the locus of a doubly in-
finite system of points, — that is, the locus of the system of
points determined by a single equation U={*^,y,z,\)",
= 0, between the Cartesian coordinates (to fix the ideas,
say rectangular coordinates) x,y,z; or, if we please, by a
single homogeneous relation f =(*jj.r,y,j,j^)", = 0, between
the quadriplanar coordinates x, y, z, w. The degree n of
the equation is the order of 'the surface; and this defini-
tion of the order agrees with the geometrical one, that the
order of the surface is equal to the number of the inter-
sections of the surface by an arbitrary line. Starting from
the foregoing point definition of the surface, we might
develop the notions of the tangent line and the tangent
plane; but it will be more convenient to consider the sur-
face ah initio from the more general point of view in its
relation to the point, the line, and the plane.
2. Mention has been made of the plane curve and the
cone ; it is proper to recall that the order of a plane curve
is equal to the number of its intersections by an arbitrary
line (in the plane of thQ curve), and that its class is equal
to the number of tangents to the curve which pass through
an arbitrary point (in the plane o( tje curve) The cone"'
is a figure correlative to the plane curve : corresponding
to the plane of the curve we have the vertex of the cone,
to its tangents the generating lines of the cone, and to its
points the tangent planes of the cone. But from a ditrer-
ent point of view we may consider the generating lines of
the cone as corresponding to the points of the curve and
its tangent planes as corresponding to the tangents of the
curve. From this point of view we define the order of the
cone as equal to the number of its intersections (generating
lines) by an arbitrary plane through the vertex, and its
class as equal to the number of the tangent planes which
pass through an arbitrary line through the vertex. And in
the same way that a plane curve has singularities (singular
points and singular tangents) so a cone has singularities
(singular generating lines and singular tangent planes).
3. Consider now a Burfaca in connexion with an arbi-
trary line. The line meets the surface in a certain number
of points, and, as abeady mentioned, the order of. the sur-
face is equal to the number of these intersections. We have
through the line a certain number of tangent planes of the
surface, and the class of the surface is equal to the number
of these tangent planes.
But, further, through the line imagine a plane; this
meets the surface in a curve the order of which is equal
(as is at once seen) to the order of the surface. Again, on
the line imagine a point; this is the vertex of a cone cir-
cumscribing the surface, and the class of this cone is equal
(as is at once seen) to the class of the surface. The tangent
lines of the surface which lie in the plane are nothing else
than the tangents of the plane section, and thus form a'
singly infinite series of lines; similarly, the tangent lines
of the surface which pass through the point are nothing
else than the generating lines of the circumscribed cone,
and thus form a singly infinite series of lines. But, if we
consider those ta.ngent lines of the surface which are at once
in the plane and through the point, we see that they are
finite in number; and we define the rank of a surface as
equal to the number of tangent lines which lie in a givea
plane and pass through a given point in that plane. It
at once follows that the class of the plane section and the
order of the circumscribed cone are each equal to the rank
of the surface, and are thus equal to each other. It may
be noticed that for a general surface {*]tx, y, z, w)", = 0, of
order n without point singularities the rank is a, = n{n - 1),
and the class is n, = n{n - 1)-; this implies (what is in fact
the case) that the circumscribed cone has line singularities,
for otherwise its class, that is the class of the surface, would
be a(a - 1 ), which is not = n(n - 1 y.
4. In the last preceding number the notions of the
tangent line and the tangent plane have been assumed as
known, but they require to be further explained in refer-
ence to the original point definition of the surface. Speak-
ing generally, we may say that the points of the surface
consecutive to a given point on it lie in a plane which is
the tangent plane at the given point, and conversely the
given point is the point of contact of this tangent plane, I
and that any line through the point of contact and in the
tangent plane is a tangent line touching the surface at the.
point of contact. Hence we see at once that the tangent
line is any line meeting the surface in two consecutive
points, or — what is the same thing— a line meeting the
surface in the point of contact counting as two intersec-
tions and in n - 2 other points. But, from the foregoing
notion of the tangent plane as a plane containing the
point of contact and the consecutive points of the surface,
the passage to the true definition of the tangent plane is
not equally obvious. A plane in general meets the surface
of the order n in a carve of that order without double
points ; but the plane may be such that the curve has a
SURFACE
669
double point, and when this is so the plane is a tangent
plane having the double point for its point of contact.
The double point is either an acnode (isolated point),
then the surface at the point in question is convex towards
(that is, concave away from) the tangent plane ; or else
it is a crunode, and the surface at the point in question
is then concavo-convex, that is, it has its two curvatures
in opposite senses (see infra, No. 16). Observe that in
either case any line whatever in the plane and through
the point meets the surface in the points in which it meets
the plane curve, namely, in the point of contact, which
qua double point counts as two intersections, and \n n-2
other points ; that is, we have the preceding definition of
the tangent line.
5. The complete enumeration and discussion of the
singularities of a surface is a question of extreme difficulty
which has not yet been solved.^ A plane curve has point
singularities and line singularities ; corresponding to these
we have for the surface isolated point singularities and
isolated plane singularities, but there are besides con-
tinuous singularities applying to curves on or torses circum-
scribed to the surface, and it is among these that we
have the non-special singularities which play the most
important part in the theory. Thus the plane curve
represented by the general equation (*§r, y, zY = Q, of
any given order n, has the non-special line singularities of
inflexions and dn"ble tangents ; corresponding to this the
surface represented by the general equation (*j5j-, y, z, w)"
= 0, of any given order n, has, not the isolated plane sin-
gularities, but the continuous singularities of the spinode
curve or torse and the node-couple curve or torse.' A
plane may meet the surface Ln a curve having (1) a
cusp (spinode) or (2) a pair of double points ; in each
case there is a singly infinite system of such singular
tangent planes, and the locus of the points of contact is
the curve, the envelope of the tangent planes the torse.
The reciprocal singularities to these are tl e nodal curve
land the cuspidal curve : the surface may intersect or
touch itself along a curve in such wise that, cutting the
surface by an arbitrary plane, the curve of intersection
has at each intersection of the plane with the curve on
the surface (1) a double point (node) or (2) a cusp. Observe
that these are singularities not occurring in the surface
represented by the general equation {*^x, y, z, w)'^ = 0 of
any order ; observe further that in the case of both or
either of these singularities the definition of the tangent
plane must be modified. A tangent plane is a plane such
that there is in the plan^ section a double point in addition
to the nodes or cusps at the intersections with the singular
lines on the surface.
6. As regards isolated singularities, it will be siiflScient
to mention the point singularity of the conical point (or
cnicnode) and the corresponding piano singularity of the
conic of contact (or cnictropo). In the former case wo
ihave a point such that the consecutive points, instead of
jlying in a tangent plane, lie on a quadric cone, having the
point for its vertex ; in the latter case wo have a plane
touching the surface along a conic ; that is, the complete
intersection of the surface by the plane is made up of the
conic taken twice and of a residual curve of the order n - 4.
7. We may, in the general theory of surfaces, consider
leithcr a surface and its reciprocal surface, tho recipro-
cal surface being taken to bo tho surface enveloped by
the polar planes (in regard to a given quadric surface) of
the points of the original surface; or — what is better — we
' In a plnne curve the ouly singularities which seed tobeconstdorcd-
are those that present themselves in Pliicker's equations, for every
higher singularity whatever is equivalent to a certain n-'mher of nodes,
tnsps, inflexions, and double tangents. As regards a surface, no such
reduction of the higher singularities has as yet been made.
may consider a given surface in reference to the reciprocal
relations of its order, rank, class, and singularities In
cither case we have a series of unaccented letters and'S
corresponding series of accented letters, and the relations
between them are such that we may in any equation inter-
change the accented and the unaccented letters ; in some
cases an unaccented letter may be equal to the correspond-
ing accented letter. Thus, let n, n' be as before the order
and the class of the surface, but, instead of immediately
defining the rank, let a be used to denote the class of the
plane section and a the order of the circumscribed cone ;
also let S, S' be numbers referring to the singularities.
The form of the relations is a = a'( = rank of surface) ;
a =n {ii-l)-S ; n' =n(n-l)" - S ; a = n'{n' - \)-S' ;
n = n'{n' - 1)-- S'. In these last equations S, (S* are
merely written down to denote proper corresponding com-
binations of the several numbers referring to the singular-
ities collectively denoted by S, S' respectively. The theory,
as already mentioned, is a complex and difficult one, and it
is not the intention to further develop it here.
8. A developable or'torse corresponds to a curve in space
in the same manner as a cone corresponds to a plane curve :
although capable of representation by an equation 17=
(*^x, y, 2, Ml,)", = 0, and so of coming under the foregoing
point definition of a surface, it is an entirely distinct geo-
metrical conception. We may indeed, qua surface, regard
it as a surface characterized by the property that each of
its tangent planes touches it, not at a single point, but along
a line ; this is equivalent to saying that it is the envelope,
not of a doubly infinite series of planes, as is a proper
surface, but of a singly infinite system of planes. But it b
perhaps easier to regard it as the locus of a singly infinite
system of lines, each line meeting the consecutive line, or,
what is the same thing, the lines being tangent lines of a
curve in space. The tangent plane is then the plafie through
two consecutive lines, or, what is the same thing, an oscu-
lating plane of the curve, whence also the tangent plane
intersects the surface in the generating line counting twice,
and in a residual curve of the order n - 2. The curve is said
to be the edge of regression of the developable, and it is a
cuspidal curve thereof ; that is to say, any plane section of
the developable has at each point of intersection with the
edge of regression a cusp. A sheet of paper bent in any
manner without crumpling gives a developable ; but we
cannot with a single sheet of paper properly exhibit
the form in the neighbourhood of the edge of regression :
we need two sheets connected along a plane curve, which,
when the paper is bent, becomes the edge of regression
and appears as a cuspidal curve on the surface.
It may be mentioned that the condition which dust be
satisfied in order that the equation Z7= 0 shall represent a
developable is //(CQ = 0 ; that is, the Hessian or functional
determinant formed with the second differential coefficients
of C/'must vanish in virtue of the equation 11= 0, or — what
is the same thing — H(U) must contain JT" as a factor. If
in Cartesian coordinates the equation is taken in the form
2 -A^'-i y) = 0) t^en the condition \srt-s- = (i identically,
where r, s, t denote as usual tho second differential co-
efficients of z in regard to x, y respectively.
9. A ruled surface or regulus is the locus of a singly
infinite system of lines, where the consecutive lines do not
intersect; this is a true surface, for there is a doubly
infinite series of tangent planes, — in fact any piano through
any one of tho lines is a tangent plane of tho surface,
touching it at a point on tho line, and in such wise that,
as the tangent piano turns about the line, the point of con-
tact moves along tho line. The complete intersection of
tho surface by the tangent piano is made up of tho line
counting once and of a residual curve of tho order fi- 1.
A quadric surface is a regulus in a twofold mivnncr, fop
670
SURFACE
tliere are on the surface two systems of lines each of which
is a regiilus. ■ A cubic surface may be a regulus (see No.
.11 infra).
Surfaces of the Orders 2, 8, and 4-
10. A surface of the second order or a quadric surface. is
a surface such that every line meets it in two points, or —
what comes to the same thing — such that every plane
section thereof is a conic or quadric curve. Such surfaces
have been studied from every point of view. The only
singular forms are when there is (1) a conical point (cnic-
node), when the surface is a cone of the second order or
quadricone ; (2) a conic of contact (cnictrope), when the
surface is this conic ; from a different point of view it is a
surface aplatie or flattened surface. Excluding these de-
generate forms, the surface is of the order, rank, and class
each = 2, and it has no singularities. Distinguishing the
forms according to reality, we have the ellipsoid, the
hyperboloid of two sheets, the hyperboloid of one sheet,
the elliptic paraboloid, and the hyperboUe paraboloid (see
Geometry, Analytical). A particular case of the ellip-
eoid is the sphere ; in abstract geometry this is a quadric
surface passing through a given quadric curve, the circle
at infinity. The tangent plane of a quadric surface meets
it in a quadric curve having a node, that is, in a pair of
lines ; hence there are on the surface two singly infinite
Bets of lines. Two lines of the same set do not meet,
but each line of the one set meets each line of the other
set; the surface is thus a regulus in a twofold manner.
The lines are real for the hyperboloid of one sheet and
for the hyperbolic paraboloid; for- the other forms of
surface they are imaginary.
11. We have next the surface of the third order or anbic
surface, which has also been very completely studied.
Such a surface may have isolated point singularities (cnic-
nodes or points of higher singularity), or it may have
a nodal line; we have thus 21 + 2, = 23 cases. In the
general case of a surface without any singularities, the
order, rank, and class are = 3, 6, 12 respectively. The
surface has upon it 27 lines, lying by threes in 45 planes,
^•hich are triple tangent planes. Observe that the tangent
plane is a plane meeting the surface in a curve having
a node. For a surface of any given order n there will
be a certain number of planes each meeting the surface
in a curve with 3 nodes, that is, triple tangent planes ;
and, in the particular case where n — Z, the cubic curve with
3 nodes is of course a set of 3 lines ; it is found that the
number of triple tangent planes is, as just mentioned, = 45.
This would give 135 lines, but through each line we have
5 such planes, and the number of lines is thus = 27. The
theoty of the 27 lines is an extensive and interesting one;
ia particular, it may be noticed, that we can, in thirty-six
ways, select a system of 6 .x 6 lines, or " double sixer,"
such that no 2 lines of the same set intersect each other,
but that each line of the one set intersects each line of
the other set.
A cubic surface having a nodal line is a ruled surface
or regulus ; in fact any plane through the nodal line meets
the surface in this line counting twice and in a residual
line, and there is thus on the surface a singly infinite set
of lines. ^ There are two forms; but the distinction. between
them need not be referred to here.
12. As regards quartic surfaces, only particular forms
have been much studied. A quartic surface can have at
most 16 conical points (cnicnodes) ; an instance of such a
enrface is Fresnel's wave surface, which has 4 real cnicnodes
in one of the principal planes, 4x2 imaginary ones in
the other two principal planes, and 4 imaginary ones at,
infinity, — in all 16 cnicnodes; the same surface has also 4
real-^ 12 imaginary planes each touching the surface along'
a circle (cnictropes), — in all 16 cnictropes. It was easy-
by a mere homographic transformation to pass to the more
general surface called the tefrahedroid ; but this was itself
only a particular form of the general surface "with 16
cnicnodes and 16 cnictropes first studied by Kummer.
Quartic surfaces with a smaller number of _ cnicnodes hafe
also been considered.
Another very important form is the quartic surface
having a nodal conic ; the nodal conic may be the circle
at infinity, and we have then the so-called anallagmatic
surface, otherwise the cycUde (which includes the particu-
lar form called Dupin's cyclide)i /These correspond to the
bicircular quartic curve of plane geometry. ' Other form»
of quartic surface might be referred to.'
Congruences and Complexes
13. A congruence is a doubly infinite system oi lines.
A line depends on four parameters and can therefore be
determined so as to satisfy four conditions; if only two
conditions are imposed on the line we have a doubly
infinite system of lines or a congruence. For instance, the
lines meeting each of two given lines form a congruence.
It is hardly necessary to remark that, imposing on the line
one more condition, we have a ruled surface or regulus ;
thus we can in an infinity of ways separate the congruence
into a singly infinite system of reguli or of torses (see
infra, No. 16).
Considering in connexion with the congruence two
arbitrary lines, there will be in the congruence a deter-
minate numlser of lines which meet each of these twn
lines; and the number of lines thus meeting the two linei
is said to be the order-class of the congruence. If the two
arbitrary lines are taken to intersect each other, the con
gruence lines which meet each of the two lines separate
themselves into two sets, — those which lie in the plane of
the two lines and those which pass through their intersec-
tion. There will be in the former set a determinate number
of congruence lines which is the order of the congruence,
and in the latter set a determinate number of congruence
lines which is the class of the congruence. In other words,
the order of the congruence is equal to the number of
congruence lines lying in an arbitrary plane, and its class
to the number of congruence lines passing through an
arbitrary point.'
The following systems of lines form each" of them a
congruence : — (A) lines meeting each of two given curves ;
(B) lines meeting a given curve twice; (C) lines meeting a
given curve and touching a given surface ; (D) lines touch-
ing each of two given surfaces ; (E) lines touching a given
surface twice, or, say, the bitangents of a given surface.
The last case is the most general one ; and conversely
for a given congruence there will be in general a surface
having the congruence lines for bitangents. This surface
is said to be the focal surface of the congruence ; the
general surface with 16 cnicnodes first presented itself in
this manner as the focal surface of a congruence. But
the focal surface may degenerate into the forms belonging
to the other cases A, B, C, P.
14. A complex is a triply infinite system of lines, — ^for
instance, the tangent lines of a surface. Considering an
arbitrary point in connoxion with the complex, the com-
plex lines which pass through the point form a cone;
considering a plane in connexion with it, the complex
lines which lie in the plane envelope a curve. It is easy
to see that the class of the curve is equal to the order
of the cone; in fact each of these numbers is equal to
the number of complex lines which lie in an arbitrary
plane and pass through an arbitrary point of that plane ;
and we , then say order of complex = order of curve ;
rayilc oh complex = class of curve = order of cone ; doss of
complex = class of cone; It is to be observed that, whi'
SURFACE
671
for. a, congruence there is in general a surface Laving tlie
loncruonce lines for bitangents, for a complex there is
not in general any surface having the complex lines for
tangents; the tangent lines of a surface are thus only a
special form of complex. The theory of comi>lcxes first
presented itself in the researches of Malus on systems of
rays of light in connexion with double refraction.
15. The analytical theory as well of congruences as of
pomplexes is most easily carried out by means of the six
coordinates of a line ; viz., there are coordinates (a, b, c,
f, g. A) connected by the equation af+ bg + ck = 0, and there-
fore such that the ratios (t: 6 icr/i^f:/* constitute a system
of four arbitrary parameters. We have thus a congruence
of the order n represented by a single homogeneous equa-
tion of that order {*'§a,b,c,f,g,h)'^ = 0 between the sLx
coordinates ; two sncu relations determine a congruence.
But wo have in regard to congruences the same difficulty
as that which presents itself in regard to curves in space :
it is not every congruence which can be represented com-
pletely and precisely by two such equations.
The linear equation ma,b,c,/,t/,h) = 0 represents a
congruence of the first order or linear congruence ; such
congruences are interesting both in geometry and in con-
nexion with the theory of forces acting on a rigid body.
Curves of Curvature ; Asymptotic Lines.
16. The normals of a surface form a congruence. In any
congruence the lines consecutive to a given congruence line
do not in general meet this line ; but there is a deter-
minate number of consecutive lines which do meet it ;
or, attending for the moment to only one of these, say
the congruence line is met by a consecutive congruence
line. In particular, each normal is met by a consecutive
normal ; this again is met by a consecutive normal, and
so on. That is, we have a singly infinite system of normals
each meeting the consecutive normal, and so forming a
torse ; starting from different normals successively, we
obtain a singly infinite system of such torses. But each
normal 'is in fact met by two consecutive normals, and,
using in the construction first the one and then the other
•of these, we obtain two singly infinite systems of torses
each intersecting the given surface at right angles. In
•other words, if in place of the normal we consider the
point on the surface, we obtain on the surface two singly
infinite systems of curves such that for any curve of either
system the normals at consecutive points intersect each
■other; moreover, for each normal the torses of the two
systems intersect each other at right angles ; and therefore
for each point of the surface the curves of the two systems
intersect each other at right angles. The two systems of
curves are said to be the curves of curvature of the surface.
_The normal is met by the two consecutive normals
in two points which aro the centres of curvature for the
point on the surface ; these lie either on the same side of
the point or on opposite sides, and the surface has at the
point in question like curvatures or opposite curvatures in
ihe two cases respectively (see supra, No. 4).
17. In immediate connexion with the curves of curvature
we have the so-called asymptotic curves (Haupt-tangentcn-
linicn). The tangent plane at a point of the surface cuts
the siu-face in a curve having at that point a node. Thus
we have at the point of the surface two dirctions of
passage to a consecutive point, or, say, two elements of aro ;
andj^passing along one of these to the consecutive point,
arid thence to a consecutive point, and so on, wc obtain on
the surface a curve. Starting successively from difTcrcnt
points of the surface we thus obtain a singly infinite
system of curves; or, using first one and then the other of
the two directions, we obtain two singly infinite systems of
curves, which are the curves above referred to. The two
curves at any point are equally inclined to the two curves
of curvature at that point, or — what is the same thin"
the supplementary angles formed by the two asymptotic
lines are bisected by the two curves of curvature. In the
case of a quadric surface the asymptotic curves are the two
systems of lines on the surface.
Geodesic Lines.
18. A geodesic line (or ciu-vc) is a shortest curve orrti-
surface ; more accurately, tho clement of aro between two
consecutive points of a geodesic line is a shortest arc on
the surface. We are thus led to tho fundamental property
that at each point of the curve the osculating piano of
the curve passes through the normal of the surface; in
other words, any two consecutive arcs PF, F l"' are jm
■piano with the normal at P. Starting from a given point
P on the surface, -we have a singly infinite system of
geodesies proceeding along the surface in the direction of
the several tangent lines at the point P; and, if the
direction PP is given, the property gives a construction by
successive elements of arc for the required geodesic line.
Considering the geodesic lines which ))roceed from a
given point P of the surface, any particular geodesic
line is or is not again intersected by the consecutive
generating line ; if it is thus intersected, tho generating
line is a shortest line on the surface up to, but not beyond,
the point at which it is first intersected by the consecutive
generating, line ; if it is not intersected, it continues a
shortest line for tho whole course.
In the analytical theory both of geodesic lines and of
the curves of curvature, and in other parts of the theory
of surfaces, it is very convenient to consider tho rectangular
coordinates x, y, s oi a, point of the surface as given
functions of two independent parameters ;;, q ; the form of
these functions of course determines the surface, since by
the elimination of;), qirom the three equations we obtain
the equation in the coordinates a:, y, j. We have for the
geodesic lines a difl"erential equation of the second order
between ;) and (/; the general solution contains two arbi-
trary constants, and is thus capable of representing tho
geodesic line which can be drawn from a given point in a
given direction on the surface. In' the case of a quadric
surface the solution involves hypcrclliptic integrals of tho
first kind, depending on the square root of a sextic function.
Curvilinear Coordinates.
19. The expressions of the coordinates o\ y, z in terms
of p, q may contain a parameter r, and, if this is regarded
as a given constant, these expressions will as before refer
to a point on a given surface. But, if;), q, r are regarded
as three independent parameters, x, y, z will be tho co-
ordinates of a point in space, determined by means of the
three parameters />, ^■j r; these parameters aro said to bo
the curvilinear coordinates, or (in a generalized sense of
tho term) simply the coordinates of tho point. We arrive
otherwise at the notion by taking ;), q, r each as a given
function of x,y,z-, say we have 7)=/i(.r,y,.'), q=f2{^,y,-),
'' =/s( A.i',^), which equations of course lead to expressions
for p, q, r each as a function of x, y, 3. The first equation
determines a singly infijiite set of surfaces : for any given
value of p we b»ve a .surface; and similarly tlic second
and third equations dctcrmino each a singly infinite set of
surfaces. If, to fix tho ideas, /„/_,./, are taken to dertoto
each a rational and integral function of j-, y, 7, then twq
surfaces of tho same set will not intersect each other, Qnd|
through a given i)oint of space there will pass one surface
of each set; that is, the point will bo delermiued as a
point of intersection of three R\.rfivcc3 belonging to flic
three sots respectively; moreover, tho whole of Kpacc will
be divided by tho three sets of surfaces into a triply infinite
system of elements, each of them being a parallelci)ipcd.
672
S U R — S U R
Orihotomic Surfaces; Parallel Surfaces.
20. The three sets of surfaces may be such that the
three surfaces through any point of space whatever inter-
sect each other at right angles; and they are in this case
said to be orthotomic. The term curvLlinear coordinates
was almost appropriated by Lame, to whom this theory is
chiefly due, to the case in question : assuming that the
equations p=f-^{x,y,z), q=f2{x,y,z), r=f^{x,y,z) refer to a
system of orthotomic surfaces, we have in the restricted
sense x>, ?> '' ^s the curvilinear coordinates of the point.
An interesting special case is that of confocal quadric
surfaces. The general equation of a surface confocal with
the eUipsoid g + |+J=l is ^e^lkd-^^d=^'
and, if in this equation we consider x,y,z as given, we
lave for 6 a cubic equation with- three real roots ^, q,r,
and thus we have through the point three real surfaces,
«ne an eUipsoid, one a hyperboloid of one sheet, and one
a hyperboloid of two sheets.
21. The theory is connected with that of curves of cur-
vature by Dupin's theorem. Thus in any system of ortho-
tomic surfaces each surface of any one of the three sets is
intersected by the surfaces of the other two sets in its
curves of curvature.
22. No one of the three sets of surfaces is altogether
arbitraTy: in the equation p=/i(^,y, 2), jo is not an arbi-
trary function of x, y, s, but it must satisfy a certain
partial differential equation of the third order. Assuming
that p has this value, we have q =fJ,x, y, 2) and »• =f^{x, y, s)
determinate functions of x, y, 2 such that the three sets of
surfaces form an orthotomic system.
23. Starting from a given surface, it has been seen (No.
16) that the normals along the curves of curvature form
two systems of torses intersecting each other, and also the
given surface, at right angles. But there are, intersecting
the two systems of torses at right angles, not only the
given surface, but a singly infinite system of surfaces. If
at each point of the given surface we measure off along
the normal one and the same distance at pleasure, then
the locus of the points thus obtained is a surface cutting
all the normals of the given surface at right angles, or,
in other words, having the same normals as the given
surface; and it is therefore a parallel surface to the given
*urface. Hence the singly infinite system of parallel
surfaces and the two singly infinite systems of torses form
together a set of orthotomic surfaces.
The Minimal Surface.
24. This is the surface of minimum area — more ac-
curately, a surface such that, for any indefinitely small
closed curve which can be drawn on it round any point,
the area of the surface is less than it is for any other
surface whatever through the closed curve. It at once
follows that the surface at every point is concavo-con-
vex ; for, if at any point this was not tlie ease, we could,
by cutting the surface by a plane, describe round the
point an indefinitely small closed plane curve, and the
plane area within the closed curve would then be less
than the area of the element of surface within the same
curve. The condition leads to a partial differential equa-
tion of the second order for the determination of the
minimal surface : considering s as a function of x, y,
and wTiting as usual p, q, r, s, t for the first and second
differential coefiicients of z in regard to x, y respectively,
the equation (as first shown by Lagrange) is (I-t-g^)?-
-1pqs-\-{\.-Vp''-)t = % or, as this may also be written,
da dp „ ™,
:77, • /. o S + x: /-, ., .i = 0. The general integral
dy t/\+p" + q- dx sll+p'i + qi <= °
contains of course arbitrary functions, and,' if we imagine
these so determined that the surface may pass through a
given closed curve, and if, moreover, there is but one
minimal surface passing through that curve, we have the
solution of the problem of finding the surface of minimum
area within the same curve. The surface continued be-
yond the cloied curve is a minimal surface, but it is not of
necessity or in general a surface of minimum area for ai>
arbitrary bounding curve not wholly included within tho
given closed curve. It is hardly necessary to remark that
the plane is a minimal surface, and that, if the given closed
curve is a plane curve, the plane is the proper solution ;
that is, the plane area within the given closed curve is less
than the area for any other surface through the same curve.
The given closed curve is not of necessity a single curve: it
may be, for instance, a skew polygon of four or more sidei.
The partial differential equation was dealt with in w,
very remarkable manner by Kiemann. From the second
form given above it appears that -we have -=^
. . .- .- ^l+i"' + ?'
= a complete differential, or, putting fhis = cff, we intro-
duce into the solution a variable t, which combines with z
in the forms z+'j (i= V - 1 as usual). The boundary
conditions hard to be satisfied by the determination of the
conjugate variables r;, i) as functions of 2 -f if, z — t f, or, say,
of Z, Z' respectively, and by writing S, S' to denote x + iy,
X - iy respectively. Kiemann obtains finally two ordinary
differential equations of the first order in S, S', rj, rf, Z, Z',
and the results are completely worked out in some very
interesting special cases.
The memoirs on various parts of the general subject are very
numerous; references to many of them will be found in Salmon's
Treatise on the Analytic Geometry of Three Dimensions, 4th ed.,
Dublin, 1882 (the most compreheusivo work on solid geometry) ;
for the minimal surface (which is not considered there) see Memoirs
xviii. and xxvi. in Rieniann's Gesammcltc mathcmatische IVerkc,
Leipsic, 1876 ; the former — "Ueber die Flache vom kleinsten
Inhalt bei gegebener Begrenzung," as published in GbU.AhhandL,
»oL xiii. (1866-67) — contains an introduction by Hattendortf giving
the history of the question. (A. CA.)
SURGEONS, College op. Sea Societies.
SUEGEE Y
Paet I. — History.
SURGERY in all countries is as old as human needs."* A
certain skill in the stanching of blood, the extraction
of arrows, the binding up of wounds, the supporting of
broken limbs by splints, and the like, together with an in-
stinctive reliance on the healing power of the tissues, has
been common to men everywhere. In both bran'ihes of the
Aryan stock surgical practice (as well as medical) reached
a high degree of perfection at a. very early period. It is a
matter of controversy whether the Greeks got their medicine
(or any of it) from the Hindus (through the medium of
Vhe Egj-ptian priesthood), or whether the Hindus owed
that high degree of medical and surgical knowledge and
skill which is reflected in Charaka and Susruta (commenta-
tors of uncertain date on the Yajur-Veda ; see Sanskrit,
vol. xxi. p. 294) to their contact with Western civilization
after the campaigns of Alexander. The evidence in favour
of the former view is ably stated by Wise in the Intro-
duction to his History of Ifedicine amony the Asiatics
(London, 1868). The correspondence between the Susruta
and the Elppocratic Collection is closest in the sactions
relating to the ethics of medical practice ; the description,
also, of lithotomy in the former agrees almost exactly with
the account of the AJexandrian practice as given by Celsus.
But there are certainly some dexterous operations describe*?
HISTORY.]
SURGERY
673
in Susruta (such as the rhinoplastic) which were of native
invention ; the elaborate and lofty ethical code appears to
be of pure Brahmanical origin ; and the very copious
materia medica (which included arsenic, mercury, zinc,
and many other substances of permanent value) does not
contain a single article of foreign source. There is evi-
dence also (in Arrian, Strabo, and other writers) that the
East enjoyed a proverbial reputation for medical and sur-
gical wisdom at the time of Alexander's invasion. We
may give the first place, then, to the Eastern branch of
the Aryan race in a sketch of the rise of surgery, leaving
as insoluble the question of the date of the Sanskrit com-
pendiimis or compilations which pass under the names
of two representative persons, Charaka and Su&uta (the
dates assigned to these ranging as widely as 500 years on
each side of the Christian era).
idool The Suinifa speaks throughout of a single class of
inda practitioners who undertook both surgical and medical
!"era c^6s. Nor were there any fixed degrees or orders of
skill within the profession ; even lithotomy, which , at
Alexandria was assigned td specialists, was to be under-
taken by any one, the leave of the rajah having been
first obtained. The only distinction ^recognized between
medicine and surgery was in the inferior order of barbers,
nail-trimmers, ear-borers, tooth-drawers, and phlebotomists,
who were outside the Brahmanical caste.
rgical Susruta describes more than one hundredsurgical instru-
'*™' ments, made of steel. They should have good handles and
'" firm joints, be well polished, and sharp enough to divide a
hair ; they should be perfectly clean, and kept in flannel in
a wooden box. They included various shapes of scalpels,
bistouiies, lancets, scarifiers, saws, bone-nippers, scissors,
trocars, and needles. There ware also blunt hooks, loops,
probes (including a caustic-holder), directors, sounds, scoops,
and forceps (for polypi, <fec.), as well as catheters, syringes,
a rectal speculum, and bougies. There were fourteen
varieties of bandage. The favourite form of splint was
made of thin slips of bamboo bound together with string
and cut to the length required. Wise says that he has
frequently used "this admirable splint," particularly for
fractures of the thigh, humerus, radius, and ulna, and it has
been subsequently adopted in the English army under the
name of the " patent rattan-cane splint."
era- Tractures were diagnosed, among other signs, by cre-
^- pitus. Dislocations were elaborately classified, and the
differential diagnosis given ; the treatment was by trac-
tion and countertraction, circumduction, and other dexter-
ous manipulation. Wounds were divided into incised,
punctured, lacerated, contused, &c. Cuts of the head and
face were sewed. Skill in extracting foreign bodies was
carried to a great height, the magnet being used for iron
particles under certain specified circumstances. Inflam-
mations were treated by the usual antiphlogistic regimen
and appliances ; venesection was practised at several other
points besides the bond of the elbow ; leeches were more
often resorted to than the lancet; cupping also was in
general use. Poulticing, fomenting, and the like were
done as at present. Amputation was done now and then,
DOtwitlistanding the want of a good control over the
bieiDOiThuge ; boiling oil was applied to the stump, with
pressure by means of a cup-forraed bandage, pitch being
sometimes added. Tumours and enlarged lymphatic gland.s
were cut out, and an arsenical salve applied to the raw
surfaces to prevent recurrence. Abdominal dropsy and
hydrocele were treated by taj^ping with a trocar ; and
varieties of hernia were understood, omental hernia being
removed by operation on the scrotum. Aneurisms were
known, but not treated ; the use of the ligature on the
continuity of an artery, as well as on the cut end of it in a
llap, is the one thing that a iiioderu surgeon will miss some-
what noticeably in the ancient surgery of the Hindus ; and
the reason of their backwardness in that matter was doubt-
less their want of familiarity with the course of the arteries
and with the arterial circulation. Besides the operation
already mentioned, the abdomen was opened by a short
incision below the umbilicus slightly to the left of tie
middle Rne, for the purpose of removing intestinal con-
cretions or other obstruction (laparotomy). Only a small
segment of the bowel was exposed at one time ; the con-
cretion when found was removed, the intestine stitched
together again, anointed with ghee and honey, and returned
into the cavity. Lithotomy was practised, without lue stafi".
There was a plastic operation for the restoration of the
nose, the skin being taken from the cheek adjoining, and
the vascularity kept up by a bridge of tissue. Tbs
ophthalmic surgery included extraction of cataract. Ob-
stetric operations were various, including caesarean section
and crushing the foetus.
The medication and constitutional treatment in surgical Medical
cases were in keeping with the general care and elaborate- 'J^^t-
ness of their practice, and with the copiousness of their '"™*-
materia medica. Ointments and other external applications
had usually a basis of ghee (or clarified butter), and con-
tained, among other things, such metals as arsenic, zinc,
copper, mercury, and sulphate of iron. For every emer-
gency and every known form of disease there were ela-
borate and minute directions in the ^astras, which were
taught by the physician-priests to the young aspirants.
Book learning was considered of no use without experience Traimn^
and manual skill in operations ; the diS'erent surgical of P"^"^-
operations were shown to the student upon wax spread on *'''o°'"^
a board, on gourds, cucumbers, and other soft fruits ; tap-
ping and puncturing were practised on a leathern bag filled
with water or soft mud; scarifications and bleeding on
the fresh hides of animals from which the hair had been
removed ; puncturing and lancing upon the hollow stalks
of water-lilies or the vessels of dead animals ; bandaging
was practised on flexible models of the human body ;
sutures on leather and cloth ; the plastic operations on dead
animals ; and the application of caustics and cauteries on
living animals. A knowledge of anatomy was held to be
necessary, but it does not appear that it was systematically
acquired by dissection. Superstitions and theurgic ideas
were diligently kept up so as to impress the vulgar. The
whole body of teaching, itself the slow growth of much
close observation and profound thinking during the vigor-
ous period of Aryan progress, was given out in later times
as a revelation from heaven, and as resting upon an
absolute authority. Pathological principles were not
wanting, but they were derived from a purely arbitrary or
conventional physiology (wind, bile, and phlegm) ; and the
whole elaborate fabric of rules and directions, great though
its utility must have been for many generations, was
without the quickening power of reason and freedom, and
became inevitably stilf and decrepit.
The Chinese appear to have been far behind the Hindus
in their knowledge of medicine and surgery, notwith-
standing that China profited at the same time as Tibet
by the missionary propagation of Buddhism. Surgery
in particular had hardly developed among them beyond
the merest rudiments, owng to their religious respect
for dcuJ bodies and their unwillingness to draw blood
or otherwise interfere with the living structure. Their
anatomy and physiology have been from the, earliest times
unusually fanciful, and their surgical practice has con-
sisted almost entirely of external applications. Tumours
and boils-were treated by scarifications or incisions. The
distinctive Chinese surgical invention ia acupuncture, or
the insertion of fine needles, of hardened silver or gold,
for an inch op more ^with a twisting motion) into the
xxir. — s?
674
SURGERY
[history.
seats of pain or inflammation. Wise says that "the needle
is allowed to remain in that part several minutes, or in
some cases of neuralgia for days, with great advantage";
rheumatism and chronic gout were among the localized
pains so treated. There are 367 points specified where
needles may be inserted without injuring great vessels
and vital organs.
Cupping-vessels made of cow-horn have been found in
ancient Egyptian tombs. On monuments and the walls
of temples are figures of patients bandaged, or under-,
going operation at the hands of surgeons. In museum
collections of Egyptian antiquities there are lancets, forceps,
knives, probes, scissors, &c. Ebers interprets a passage in
the papyrus discovered by him as relating to the operation
of cataract. Surgical instruments for the ear are figured,
and artificial teeth have been found in mummies. Mummies
have also been found with well-set fractures. Herodotus
describes Egypt, notwithstanding its fine climate, as being
■full of medical practitioners, who were all "specialists."
The ophthalmic surgeons were celebrated, and practised at
the court of Cyrus.
<e«ek. As in the case of the Sanskrit medical -writings, the
earliest Greek compendiums on surgery bear witness to
a' long organic growth of knowledge and skiU through
many generations. In the Homeric picture of society the
surgery is that of the battlefield, and it is of the most
meagre kind. Achilles is concerned about the restora-
tion to health of Machaon for the reason that his skill in
cutting out darts and applying salves to wounds was not
the least valuable service that a hero could render to the
Greek host. Machaon probably represents- an amateur,
■whose taste had led him, as it did'Melampus, to converse
with centaurs and to glean some of their traditional
wisdom. Between that primitive state of civilization and
the date of the first Greek treatises there had been a long
interval of gradual progress. The surgery of the Uippo-
Hippo- craixc CoUedion (age of Pericles) bears every evidence of
f,ratio finish and elaboration. The two treatises on fractures and
surgery. ^^ dislocations respectively are hardly surpassed in some
■ways by the writings of the present mechanical age. Of
the four dislocations of the shoulder the displacement
do-smwards into the axilla is given as the only one at all
common. The two most usual dislocations of the femur
■were backwards on to the dorsum ilii and forwards on to
the obturator region. Fractures of the spinous processes
of the vertebrffi are described, and caution advised against
trusting those who would magnify that injury into fracture
of the spine itsell Tubercles {(^vjiaTo) are given as one
of the causes of spinal curvature, an anticipation of
Pott's diagnosis. In all matters of treatment there -was
the same fertility of resource as in the Hindu practice ;
the most noteworthy point is that shortening was by
many regarded as inevitable after simple fracture of the
femur. Fractures and dislocations were the most complete
chapters of the Hippocratic surgery ; the whole doctrine
and practical art of them had arisen (like sculpture)
■with no help from dissection, and obviously owed its ex-
cellence to the opportunities of the palastra. The next
most elaborate chapter is that on wounds and injuries of
the head, which refers them to a minute subdivision, and
includes the depressed fracture and the crMtrecoup. Tre-
phining was the measure most commonly resorted to, even
where there was no compression. Numerous forms of
wounds and injuries of other parts are specified. Ruptures,
piles, rectal polypi, fistula in ano, and prolapsus ani were
among the other conditions treated. The amputation or
excision of tumours does not appear to have been under-
taken so freely as in Hindu surgical practice; nor was litho-
tomy performed except by a specially expert person now
■%nd then. The diagnosis of empyema was known and the
treatment of it was by an incision in the intercostal space
and evacuation of the pus. Among their instruments were
forceps, probes, directors, syringes, rectal speculum, catheter,
and various kinds of cautery.
Between the Hippocratic era and the founding of the
school of Alexandria (about 300 B.C.), there is nothing of
surgical progress to dwell upon. The Alexandrian epoch
stands out prominently by reason of the enthusiastic
cultivation of human anatomy — there are allegations also
of vivisection — at the hands of Heiophilus an" Erasistra-
tus. The sum and substance of this movement ajjpears
to have been precision of diagnosis (not unattended with
pedantic minuteness), boldness of operative procedure,
subdivision of practice into a number of specialities, but
hardly a single addition to the stock of physiological or
pathological ideas, or even to the traditional wisdom of
the Hippocratic time. "The surgeons of the Alexandrian
school were all distinguished by the nicety and complexity
of their dressings and bandagiugs, of which they invented
a great variety." Herophilus boldly used the knife even
on internal organs such as the liver and spleen, which
latter he regarded "as of little consequence in the animal
economy." He treated retention of urine by a particular
kind of catheter, which long bore his name. Lithotomy
was much practised by a few specialists, and one of them
(Ammonius) is said to have used an instrument for breaking
the stone in the bladder into several pieces ■when it was too
large to remove ■n-hole. A,sinister story of the time is that
concerning Antiochus, sen of Alexander, king of Syria,
who was done to death by the lithotomists when he was
ten years old, under the pretence that he had stone in the
bladder, the instigator of the crime being his guardian
and supplanter Diodotus.
The treatise of Celsus De re medica (reign of Augustus)
reflects the state of surgery in the ancient world for a period
of several centuries : it is the best record of the Alexandrian
practice itself, and it may be taken to stand for the Roman
practice of the period following. Great jealousy of Greek
medicine and surgery ■was expressed by many of the
Romans of the republic, notably by Cato the Elder (234- Can.
149 B.C.), who himself practised on his estate according to-'^^J^
the native traditions. His medical obsMvations are given in
De re rnstica. In reducing dislocations he made use of the
following incantation : " Huat hanat ista pista sista damiato
damnaustra.'' The first Greek surgeon who established
himself in Rome is said to have been Archagathus, whosa
fondness for the knife and cautery at length led to his
expulsion by the populace. It was in the person of
Asclepiades, the contemporary and friend of Cicero, that
the Hellenic medical practice acquired a permanent footing
in Rome. This eloquent and plausible Greek confined his
practice mostly to medicine, but he is credited with
practising the operation of tracheotomy. He is one of
those whom Tertullian quotes as abandoning themselves
to vivisections for the gratification of their curiosity :
"Asclepiades capras suas quserat sine corde balantes et
muscas suas abigat sine capito volantes" {De anima, 15).
The next figure in the surgical history is Celsus, who'
devotes the 7 th and 8th books of his De re medica exclu-
sively to surgery. There is not much in these beyond tho-
precepts of the Brahmanical iiastras and the maxims and.'
rules of Greek surgery. Plastic operations for the restora-j
tion of the nose, lips, and ears are described at some length;
as well as the treatment of hernia by taxis and operation ;
in the latter it was ■ recommended to apply the actual
cautery to the canal after the hernia had been returned;
The celebrated description of lithotomy is that of the
operation as practised long before in India and at Alex-
andria. The treatment of sinuses in various regions ia
dwelt upon, and in the case of sinuses of the thoracic wal'
flISTORY.]
S U R G E f c Y
r.75
resection of the rib is mentioned. Trephining has the
Bame prominent place assigned to it as in the Greek
ourgery. The resources of contemporary surgery may be
estimated by the fact that subcutaneous urethrotomy was
practised when the urethra was blocked by a calculus.
Amputation of an extremity is described in detail for the
first time in surgical literature. Mention is made of a
variety of ophthalmic operations, which were done by
«pecialist3 after tlie Alexandrian fashion.
Galen's practice of surgery was mostly in the early part
of his career (born 131 a.d.), and there is little of special
surgical interest in his writings, great as their importance
is for anatomy, physiology, and the general doctrines of
disease. Among the operations credited to him are resec-
tion of a portion of the sternum for caries and ligature
of the temporal artery. It may be assumed that surgical
practice was in a flourishing condition all through the
period of the empire from the accounts preserved by
Oribasius of the great surgeons Antyllus, Leonides, Rufus,
and HeUodorus. Antyllus (300) is claimed by Haser as
one of the greatest of the world's surgeons; he had an
operation for aneurism (tying the artery above and below the
eac, and evacuating its contents), for cataract, for the cure of
stammering; and he treated contractures by something like
tenotomy. Eufus and HeUodorus are said to have practised
torsion for the arrest of haemorrhage ; but in later periods
both that' and the ligature appear to have given way to
the actual cautery. Hiiser speaks of the operation for
scrotal hernia attributed to Heliodorus as "a briUiant
example of the surgical skill during the empire." The same
surgeon treated stricture of the urethra by internal section.
Both Leonides and Antyllus removed glandular swellings
of the neck (strnnne) ; the latter ligatured vessels before
cutting them, and gives directions for avoiding the carotid
artery and jugular vein. The well-known operation of
Antyllus for aneurism has been mentioned before. Flap-
amputations were practised by Leonides and Heliodorus.
But perhaps the most striking illustration of the advanced
surgery of the period is the freedom with which bones
were resected, including the long bones, the lower jaw,
and the upper jaw.
Whatever progress or decadence surgery may have ex-
perienced during the next three centuries is summed up
in the authoritative treatise of Paulus of ^Egina (650). Of
his seven books the sixth is entirely devoted to operative
surgery, and the fourth is la-gely occupied with surgical
diseases. The importance of Paulus for surgical history
diuing several centuries on each side of his own period
will appear from the following remarks of Francis Adams
in his translation and commentary (vol. ii. p. 247).
" This book (bk. vi.) contains the most complete system of opera-
tive surgcr}- whicli has come down to us from ancient times. . . .
Haly Abbas in tbe 9th book of his Practica copies almost everything
from Paulus. Albucasis [Abiilcasis] gives more original matter
on surgery than any other Arabian author, and yet, as will bo seen
from our commentary, ho is indebted for whole chapters to Paulus.
In the Continens of Rhases, that precious repository of ancien*;
opinions on medical subjects, if there be any surgical information
not to be found in our author it is mostly derived from Antyllus
and Archigencs. As to the other authorities, although wo will
occasionally have to explain their opinions upon particular subjects,
no one has treated of surgcir in a systematical manner ; for even
Avicenna, who treats so fully of everything else connected with
medicine, is defective in his accounts of surgical operations; and
the descriptions which ho does give of them are almost all borrowed
from our author. The accounts of fractures and dislocations given
by Hippocrates and his commentator Galen may bo pronounced
almost complete ; but the information which they supply upon
most other surgical subjects is scanty."
It is obviously impossible in a brief space to convey any
notion of the comprehensiveness of the surgery of Paulus ;
his sixth book, with the peculiarly valuable commentary of
Adams, brings the whole surgery of the ancient world to a
focus ; and it should be referred to at first hand. Paulo.fl
himself is credited with the principle of local depletion as
against general, with the lateral operation for stone instead
of the mesial and with understanding the merits of a free
external incision and a limited internal, with the diagnosis
of aneurism by anastomosis, with an operation for aneurism
like that of Antyllus, with amputation of the cancerous
breast by crucial incision, and with the treatment of
fractured patella.
The Arabians have hardly any greater merit in medicine
than that of preserving intact the bequest of the ancient
world. To surgery in particular their services are small,
— first, because their religion proscribed the practice of
anatomy, and secondly, because it was a characteristic
of their race to accept with equanimity the sufferings
that fell to them, and to decline the means of alleviation.
The great names of the Arabian school, Avicenna and
Averroes, are altogether unimportant for surgery. Theii*
one distinctively surgical writer was AbulcasLm (d. 1122),
who is chiefly celebrated for his free use of the actual
cautery and of caustics. He showed a good deal of cha--
acter in declining to operate on goitre, in resorting to
tracheotomy but sparingly, in refusing to meddle with
cancer, and in evacuating large abscesses by degrees.
For the five hundred years following the work of Paulus MedV
of .^gina there is nothing to record but the names of a few «'»^
practitioners at the ^ourt and of imitators or compilers.
Meanwhile in western Eusope (apart from the Saracen
civilization) a medical school had gradually grown up at
Salerno, which in the 10th century had already become
famous. From it issued the Regimen Salernitanum, a work
used by the laity for several centuries, and the Conv-
pendium Salernitammi, which circulated among tJie profes-
sion. The serious decline of the school dates i>rom tha
founding of a university at Naples in 1224. In it.» best
period princes and nobles resorted to it for treatmeiiC from
all parts of Europe. The hotel dieu of Lyons had been
founded in 560, and that of Paris a century later. The
school of Montpellier was founded in 1025, and became
the rallying point of Arabian and Jewish learning. A
good deal of the medical and surgical practice was in the
hands of the religious ord(!rs, particularly of the Benedic-
tines. The practice of surgery by the clergy was at length
forbidden by the council' of Tours (1163). The surgical
writings of the time were mere reproductions of the classi-
cal or Arabian authors : " unus non dicit nisi quod alter."
One of the first to go back to independent observation
and reflexion was William of Saliceto, who belonged to
the school of Bologna; his work (1275) advocates the use
of the knife in many cases where the actual cautery was
used by ancient prescription. A greater name in the his-
tory of mediaival surgery is that of his pupil Lanfranchi
of Milan, who migrated (owing to political troubles) first
to Lyons and then to Paris. He distinguished between
arterial and venous hemorrhage, and is said to have used
the ligature for the former. Contemporary with him in
France was Henri de Mondoville of the school of Jlont-
pellier, whose teaching is best knovm through that of his
more famous pupil Guy de Chauliac; the Chirurgie of the
latter bears the date of 1363, and marks the advance in
precision which the revival of anatomy by Mondino had
made possible. Eighteen years before Lanfranchi came
to Paris a college of surgeons was founded there (1279)
by Pitard, who had accompanied St Louis to Palestine as
his surgeon. The college was under the protection of St
Cosmos and St Damianus, two practitioners of mcdicino
who suffered martjrdom in the reign of Diocletian, and it
became known as the Coll6go de St Come. From the tiJne
that Lanfranchi joined it it attracted many i)upil3. It
maintained its independent existence for eovcral cenluriua^
676
SURGERY
[history.
alongside the medical faculty of the university; the corpora-
tion of surgeons in other capitals, such as those of London
and Edinburgh, were modelled upon it.
The I4th and 15th centuries are almost entirely without
interest for surgical history. The dead level of tradition is
broken first by two men of originality and genius, Paracekus
■and Par6, and by the revival of anatomy at the hands of
Vesalius and Fallopius, professors at Padua. Apart from
the mystical form in which much of his teaching was cast,
Paracelsus has great merits as a reformer of tnrgical
practice. "The high value of his surgical writings," says
Haser, "has been recognized at all times, even by his
opponents." It is not, however, as an innovator in opera-
tive surgery but rather as a direct observer of natural
processes that Paracelsus is distinguished. His description
of "hospital gangrene," for example, is perfectly true to
nature; his numerous observations on syphilis are also
sound and sensible; and he was the first to point out the
connexion between cretinism of the offspring and goitre
of the parents. He gives most prominence to the healing
of wounds. His special surgical treatises are Die Heine
Chirurgie (1528) &ndi Die grosse Wimd-Arhiei (1536-37), —
the latter being the best known of his works. Somewhat
later in date, and of much greater concrete importance
for surgery than Paracelsus, is Ambroise Par6 (1517-
1590). He'began life as apprentice to a barber-surgeon
in Paris and as a pupil at the hotel dieu. His earliest
opportunities were in military surgery during the campaign
of Francis I. in Piedmont. Instead of treating gunshot
wounds with hot oil, according to the practice of the day,
he had the temerity to trust to a simple bandage; and
from that beginning he proceeded to many other de-
velopments of rational surgery. In 1545 he published at
Paris La methode de traicter les playes /aides par hacque-
butes et anltres bastons dfeu. The same year he began to
attend the lectures of Sylvius, the Paris teacher of anatomy,
to whom he became prosector ; and his next book was an
Anatomy (1550). His most memorable service was to get
the use of the ligature for large arteries generally adopted,
a method of controlling the haemorrhage which made am-
putation on a large scale possible for the first time in
history. Like Paracelsus, he writes simply and to the
point in the language of the people, whOe he is free from
the encumbrance of mystical theories, which detract not a
little from the merits of his feUow-r^^former in Germany.
It is only in his book on monsters, written towards the
end of his career, that he shows him&jlf to have been by
no means free from superstition. . Par6 was adored by the
army and greatly esteemed by successive French kings ;
but his innovations were opposed, as usual, by the faculty,
and he had to justify the use of the ligature as well as he
could by quotations from Galen and other ancients.
Surgery in the 16th century recovered much of the
dexterity and resource that had distinguished it in the
best periods of antiquity, while it underwent the develop-
ments opened up to it by new forms of wounds inflicted
by new weapons of warfare. The use of the staff and
other instruments of the "apparatus major" was the chief
improvement in lithotomy. A "radical cure" of hernia
by sutures superseded the old application of the actual
cautery. The earlier modes of treating stricture of the
urethra were tried ; plastic operations were once more done
with something like the skill of Brahmanical and classical
times ; and ophthalmic surgery was to some extent rescued
from the hands of ignorant pretenders. It is noteworthy
that even in the legitimate profession dexterous special
operations "(yere kept secret ; thus the use of the ''apparatus
major " in lithotomy was handed down as a secret ia the
family of Laurence Colot, a contemporary of Park's.
The 17lh century was distinguished rather for the rapid
progress of anatomy and physiology, for the Baconian and
Cartesian philosophies, and the keen interest ta!::n in com-
plete systems of medicine, than for a high standard of
surgical practice. The teaching of Pare that gunshot
wounds were merely contused and not poisoned, and that
simple treatment was the best for them, was enforced anew
by Slagati (1579-1647), Wiseman, and others. Trephining
was freely resorted to, even for inveterate migraine; Philip
William, prince of Orange, is said to have been trephined
seventeen times. Flap-amputations, which had been prac-
tised in the best period of Roman surgery by Leonides and
Heliodorus, were reintroduced by Lowdham, an Oxford
surgeon, in 1679, and probably used by Wiseman, who was
the first to practise the primary major amputations. Fabriz
von Hildeu (1560-1634) introduced a form of tourniquet,
made by placing a piece of wood \mder the bandage en-
circling the limb ; out of that there grew the block-
tourniquet of Morel, first used at the siege of Besangon in
1674; and this, again, was superseded by Jean Louis Petit's
screw-tourniquet in 1718. Strangulated hernia, which was
for long avoided as a noli me tangere, became a subject of
operation. Lithotomy by the lateral method came to great
perfection in the hands of Jacques BeauUeu. To this
century also belong the first indications (not to mention
the Alexandrian practice of Ammonius) of crushing the
stone in the bladder. The theory and practice of trans-
fusion of blood occupied much attention, especially among
the busy spirits of the Royal Society, such as Boyle,
Lower, and others. The seat of cataract in the substance
of the lens was first made out by two French surgeons,
Quarr6 and Lasnier. Perhaps the most important figure in
the surgical history of the century is Richard Wiseman, the vr^se^
father of English surgery. Wiseman took the Royalist side '"'""■
in the wars of the Commonwealth, and was surgeon to
James I. and Charles I., and accompanied Charles 11. La
his exile in France and the Low Countries. After serving
for a time in the Spanish fleet, he joined the Royalist pause
in England and was taken prisoner at the battle of Worce-
ster. At the Restoration he became serjeant-surgeon to
Charles 11., and held the same ofiice under James II. Hia
Seven Chirurgical Treatises were first published in 1676,
and went through several editions ; they relate to tumours,
ulcers, diseases of the anus, king's evil (scrofula), wounds,
fractures, luxations, and lues venerea. Wiseman was the
first to advocate primary amputation (or operation before
the onset of fever) in cases of gunshot wounds and other
injuries of the Umbs. He introduced also the practice of
treating aneurisms by compression, gave an accurate account
of fungus articulorum, and improved the operative pro-
cedure for hernia.
The 18th century marks the establishment of surgery
on a broader basis than the skill of individual surgeons of
the court and army, and on a more scientiSo basis than
the rule of thumb of the multitude of barber-surgeons and
other inferior orders of practitioners. In Paris the Col-
lege de St Come gave way to the Academy of Surgery in
1731, with Petit as director, to which was added at a
later date the ficole Pratique de Chirurgie, with CSiopart
and Desaultamong its first professors. The Academy of
Surgery set up a very high standard from the first, and exer-
cised great exclusiveness in its publications and its hono-
rary membership. In London and Edinburgh the develop-
ment of surgery proceeded on less academical lines, and with
greater scope for individual efibrt. Private dissecting
rooms and anatomical theatres were started, of which per-
haps the most notable was Dr William Hunter's school in
Great Windmill Street, London, inasmuch as it was tit
first perch of hia more famous brother John Hunter. In
Edinburgh. Alexander Monro, first of the name, became
professor of anai;omy to the company of surgeons in 1719.
HISTORY.]
SURGERY
677
transferring his title and services to the university the year
after • as he was the first systematic teacher of medicine or
surgery in Edinburgh, he is regarded as the founder of the
famous medical school of that city. In both London and
Edinburgh a company of barbers and surgeons had beeu in
existence for many years before ; but it was not imtil the
association of these companies with the study of anatomy,
comparative anatomy, physiology, and pathology that the
surgical profession began to take rank with the older order
of physicians. Hence the significance of the eulogy of
a living surgeon on John Hunter : " more than any other
man he helped to make us gentlemen " {Uimterian Oration,
J 877). The state of surgery in Germany may be inferred
f <om the fact that the teaching of it at the new university of
Gottmgen was for long in the hands of JIaller, whose ofiice
was " professor of theoretical medicine." In the Prussian
army it fell to the regimental surgeon to shave the officers.
At Berlin a medico -chirurgical college was founded by
surgeon-general Holtzendorff in 1714, to which was joined
in 1726 a school of clinical surgery at the Charity. Mili-
tary surgery was the original purpose of the school, which
BtilJ exists, side by side with the surgical cliniques of the
faculty, as the Friedrich Wilh elm's Institute. In Vienna,
in like manner, a school for the training-of army surgeons
was founded in 1785, — Joseph's Academy or the Joseph-
inum. The first systematic teaching of surgery in the
Utiited States was by Dr Shipper! at Philadelphia, where
the medical college towards the end of the century was
largely oflScered by pupils of the Edinburgh school. With-
out attempting to enumerate the great names in surgery
during the 18th century, it will be possible to introduce
th« more prominent of them in a brief sketch of the addi-
tions to the ideas and resourcei of surgery in that period.
A great part of the ad'-ance was in surgical pathology,
including Petit's observations on the formation of thrombi
in severed vessels. Hunter's account of the reparative pro-
cess, Benjamin Bell's classification of ulcers, the observa-
tions of Duhamel and others on the formation of callus
and on bone-repair in general, Pott's distinction between
spinal curvature from caries or abscess of the vertebrae
and kyphosis from other causes, observations by various
surgeons on chronic disease of the hip, knee, and other
joints, and Cheselden'g description of neuroma. Among
the great improvements in surgical procedure we have
Cheselden's operation of lithotomy (six deaths in eighty
cases), Hawkins's cutting gorget for the same (1753),
Hunter's operation (1785) for popliteal aneurism by tying
the femoral artery in the canal of the triceps where its
■walla were sound (" excited the greatest wonder," Assalini),
Petit's, Desault's, and Pott's treatment of fractures, Gim-
bemat's (Barcelona) operation for strangulated femoral
lemia. Pott's bistoury for fistula. White's (Manchester)
laud Park's (Liverpool) excision of joints, Petit's invention
of the screw-tourniquet, the same surgeon's operation for
lacrymal fistula, Chopart's partial amputation of the
foot, Desault's bandage for fractured clavicle, Bromfield's
artery-hook, and Cheselden's operation of iridectomy.
Other surgeons of great versatility and general merit were
Sharp of London, Gooch of Norwich, Hey of Leeds,
David and Le Cat of Rouen, Sabatier, La Fayo, Lcdran,
^ouis, Morand, and Percy of Paris, Bertrandi of Turin,
Troja of Naples, Pallota of Milan, Schmuckcr of the Prus-
sian army, August Richtcr of Giittingen, Siebold of Wilrz-
burg, Olof Acrel of Stockholm, and Callisen of Copen-
hagen.
Two things have given surgical knowledge and skill in
the 19th century a character of scientific or positive
cumulativeness and a wide diffusion through all ranks of
the profession. The one is the founding of museums of
anatomy and surgical pathology by the Hunters, Dupuy-
tren, Cloquet, Blumenbach, Barclay, and a great number
of more modern anatomists and surgeons ; the otlier is the
method of clinical teaching, exemplified in its highest
form of constant reference to principles by LaTVTence and
Syme. In surgical procedure the discovery of the an-
aesthetic properties of ether, chloroform, methylene, &c.,
has been of incalculable service ; while the conservative
principle in operations upon diseased or injured parts and
what may be called the hygienic idea (or, more narrowly,
the antiseptic principle) in surgical dressings have been
equally beneficial. The following are among the more
important additions to the resources of the surgical art : —
the thin thread ligature for arteries, introduced by Jones
of Jersey (1805); the revival of torsion of arteries by
Amussat (1829) ; the practice of drainage by Chassaignac
(1859); aspiration by Pelletan and recent improvers;
the plaster-of-Paris bandage or other immovable applica-
tion for simple fractures, club-foot, &c. (an old Eastern
practice recommended in Europe about 1814 by the
English consul at Bassorah) ; the re-breaking of badly
set fractures ; galvano-caustics and ^craseurs ; the general
introduction of resection of joints (Fergusson, Syme, and
others); tenotomy by Delpech and Stromeyer (1831);
operation for squint by DieiTenbach (1842) ; successful
ligature of the external iliac for aneurism of the femoral
by Abernethy (1806); ligatui'e of the subclavian in tho
third portion by Astley Cooper (1806), and in its first por-
tion by Colles ; crushing of stone in the bladder by Gruit-
huisen of Munich (1819) and Civiale of Paris (1826);
cure of ovarian dropsy by removing the cyst (since greatly
perfected); discovery of the ophthalmoscope, and many
improvements in ophthalmic surgery by Von Grafe and
others ; application of the laryngoscope in operations on
the larynx by Czermak (1860) and others; together with
additions to the resources of aural sm-gery and dentistry.
The great names in the surgery of the first half of the
century besides those mentioned are : — Scarpa of Italy
(1747-1832); Boyer (1757-1833), Larrey (1766-1842),—
to whom Napoleon left a legacy of a hundred thousand
francs, with the eulogy : " Cost I'homme le plus vertueux
que j'aie connu," — Roux (1780-1854), Lisfranc (1790-
1847), Velpeau (1795-1868), Malgaigne (1806-1865),
N^laton (1807-1873),— all of the French school; of the
British school, John Bell, Charles Bell, AUan Burns, Liston,
Wardrop, Astley Cooper, Cline, Travers, Brodie, Stanley,
and Guthrie; in the United States, Mott, Gross, and others;
in Germany, Kern and Schuh of Vienna, Von Walther and
Textor of Wiirzburg, Chelius, Hessclbach, and the two
Langenbccks. In surgical pathology the discoveries and
doctrines of the 19th century arc greater in scientific value
than those of any antecedent period ; and it would be
unprofitable to attempt any enumeration of them, or of
their authors, in a brief space.
The authorities mostly used have been — Wise, History of Medicine
among the Asiatics, 2 vols., London, 1868 ; Pauhis ^ijineta, trans-
lated with commentary on the knowledge of the Greeks, Romiuis,
and Arabians, in medicine and surgery, by Francis Adams, 3 vols.,
London, 1814-47 ; Hiiser, Gesch. d. Mcdicin, 3d ed., vols. i. and ii.,
1875-81. (C C.)
Part II. — Practicb op Sukgery.
A great change has taken place in the practice of surgery
since the publication (1860) of the article Sctrcery in vol.
XX. of tho 8th edition of tho present work. This change
is duo in great part to tho fact that the germ theory of
disease has been accepted by the majority of surgical
teachers and practitioners. Scientific men have demon-
strated that tho causa*ion of many diseased conditions ia
closely connected with tho presence in tho diseased organ,
tissue, or individual of living organisms, which have to a
certain extent beeu classified, and are supposed to bo fonn»
678
SURGERY
[PEACTICE.
of plant life. ' In one sense it is perhaps unfortunate that
the article on surgery has to be written at the present time;
because, vhUe there are few who now hold that these or-
ganisms are inert, there are some who do not grant that
they are the cause of disease ; and there are many differ-
ences of opinion as to t'ae best methods of applying this
scientitic knowledge to practical use. In other words,
although much of the surgical practice of the present day
ia founded on a scientific basis, the practical details are
still matter of dispute.
It is impossible in the present sketch to go with any
fulness into the details of the experimental research by
which the truth of the germ theory was proved; but some
allusion must be made to the salient points which have a
bearing on the work of the surgeon. It has long been
known that subcutaneous injuries follow, as a rule, a very
different course from open wounds ; and the past history
6f surgery gives evidence that surgeons not only were
aware of this great difference but endeavoured, by the use
of various dressings, empirically to prevent, the evils which
were matters of common observation during the healing of
open wounds. Various means were also adopted to pre-
vent the entrance of air, e.y., in the opening of abscesses
by the " valvular method " of Abernethy, and by the sub-
cutaneous division of tendons in the common deformity
termed "club-foot." Balsams, turpentine, and various
forms of spirit were the basis of many varieties of dress-
ing. These different dressings were frequently cumber-
some, difficult of application, and did not attain the object
aimed at, while at the same tmie they retained the dis-
charges, and gave rise to other evils which prevented rapid
and painless healing. In the beginning of the 19th cen-
tury these complicated dressings began to lose favour, ■
and practical surgeons went to the opposite extreme and
applied a simple dressing, the main object of which was
to allow a free escape of discharge. Others applied no
dressing at all, laying the stump of a Limb after amputa-
tion on- a piece of dry lint, avoiding thereby any unneces-
sary movement of the parts. Others left the wound open
for some hours after an operation, preventing in this way
any accumulation, and brought its edges and surfaces to-
gether after all oozing of blood had ceased and after the
effusion, the result of injury to the tissues by the instru-
ments used in the operation, had to a great extent sub-
sided. As a result of these various improvements many
woimds healed in a thoroughly satisfactory manner. But
in other cases inflammation often occurred, accompanied
by pain and suppuration or the formation of pus, and
various feverish conditions, due to and in some way con-
nected with the unhealthy state of the wound, were ob-
served. These constitutional sequelae frequently proved
fatal and the general impression of surgeons was either
that the constitution of the patient rendered him Uable
to these conditions, or that some poison had entered into
the wound, and, passing from it into the veins or lymphatic
vessels that had been cut across, reached the general circu-
lation, contaminating the blood and poisoning the patient.
The close clinical association between suppuration (or the
formation of pus) in wounds and many of those fatal cases
encouraged the belief that the pus cells from the wound
entered the circulation (whence the word " pyaemia "). It
was also frequently observed that a septic condition of the
wound was associated with the constitutional fever, and it
was supposed that the septic matter passed into the blood
(whence the term " septicaemia"). It was further observed
that the crowding together of patients with open wounds
increased the liabiKty to these constitutional disasters,
and every endeavour was made by surgeons to separate
their patients and to improve the ventilation of the larger
hospitals. In building hospitals the pavilion and other
systems, with windows on both sides and cross ventilation
in the wards, were adopted in order to give the patients
as much fr»sh air as was attainable. Hospital buildings
were spread over as large an area as possible ; the blocks
were restricted in height, and if practicable were never
higher than two stories. The term "hospitalism" was
coined by Sir J. Y. Simpson, who collected statistics com-
paring hospital and private practice, by which he en-
deavoured to show that private patients were not so liable
to those constitutional sequelae.
This was very much the condition of affairs when Lister
in 1860, from a study of the experimental researches of
Pasteur into the causes of putrefaction, stated that the
evils observed in open wounds were due to the admission
mto them of orgamisms which exist in the air, in water, on
instruments, on sponges, and on the hands of the surgeon.
These organisms, finding a suitable nidus for their growth
and development in the discharges and surrounding tissues,
germinate in them and alter their chemical constitution,
forming various poisonous compounds, which, if absorbed
into the blocxl, give rise to pyaemia and septicsemia.
Having accepted the germ theory of putrefaction, he ap-
plied himself to discover the best way of preventing these
organisms from reaching the wound from the moment that
it was made until it was healed. He had to deal with a
plant and he desired to interfere with its growth. This
was possible in one of two ways, — either (1) by directly
destroying or paralysing the plant itself before it entered
the wound or after it had entered, or (2) by an interference
■with the soil in which it grew, for example, by facilitating
the removal of the dbcharges and preventing their accumu-
lation in the wound cavity, and by doing everything to
prevent depression of the wounded tissues, because healthy
tissues are the best of all germicides. Several substances
were then known possessing properties antagonistic to
sepsis or putrefaction, and hence called "antiseptic." Act-
irg on a suggestion of Lemaire's, Lister chose for his ex-
periments carbolic acid, which he used at first in a crude
and impure form. He had many practical difficulties to
contend with, — the impurity of the substance, its irritating
properties, the difficulty of finding the exact strength in
which to use it : on the one hand, he feared to use it too
strong, lest it should irritate the tissues to which it was
applied and thus prevent healing ; on the othe-r hand, he
feared to use it too weak, lest its true antiseptic qualities
should be insufficient for the main object in view. It ia
unnecessary to dwell on the details of his tentative ex-
periments. As dressings for wounds he used various
chemical substances, which, being mixed with carbolic acid
in certain proportions, were intended to give off a quantity
of carbolic acid in the form of vapour, so that the wound
might be constantly surrounded by an antiseptic vapour
wMch would destroy any organisms approaching it and at
the same time not interfere with its healing. At first,
although he prevented pyaemia in a marked degree, he, ta
a certain extent, irritated his v.-ounds and prevented rapid
healing. He began his experiments in Glasgow and con-
tinued them after his removal to the chair of clinical
surgery in Edinburgh. After many disappointments, h(
gradually perfected his method of performing operations
and dressing wounds, which will be best understood by a'
illustration.
A patient is suffering, let us say, from a diseased con-'
dition of the foot necessitating amputation at the ankle
joint. The part to be operated on is enveloped in a towel
which has been soaked with a 5 per cent, solution of car-
bolic acid. The towel is applied two hours before the
operation, with the object of destroying the (putrefactive)
organisms present in the skin. The patient is placed on
the operating table, and brought under the influence of
PRACTICE.]
SURGERY
67a
chloroform ; tie limb is elevated to empty it of blood, and
a tourniquet is applied round the limb below the knee.
The instruments to be used during the qioration have been
previously purified by lying for half an hour in a flat porce-
lain dish containing carbolic acid (1 to 20). The sponges
are Ij'ing in a similar carbolic lotion. Towels soaked in
the same solution arc laid over the table and blankets near
the part operated upon. The hands of the operator, as
well as those of his assistants, are thoroughly purified by
i\-ashing them ifi the same lotion, free use being made of a
nail brush for this purpose. The operation is performed
under a cloud of carbolized watery vapour (1 in 30) from
a steam-spray producer. The visible bleeding points are
first ligatured ; the tourniquet is removed ; and then any
vessels that have escaped notice are ligatured. The wound
is stitched, a drainage-tube made of red rubber being intro-
duced at one corner to prevent accumulation of discharge ;
a strip of protective (oiled silk coafed with carbolized
dextrin) is washed in carbolic lotion and applied over the
wound. A double ply of carbolic gauze i is soaked in the
lotiop and placed over the protective, overlapping it freely.
A dressing consisting of eight layers of dry gauze is placed
over all, covering the stump and passing up the leg for
about 6 inches. Over that a piece of thin Mackintosh
cloth is placed, and the whole arrangement is fixed with a
gau2e bandage. The Mackintosh cloth prevents the car-
bolic acid from escaping and at the same time causes the
discharge from the wound to spread through the gauze.
The wound itself is protected by the protective from the
■vapour given off by the carbolic gauze, whilst the sur-
rounding parts, being constantly exposed to its activity,
are protected from the intrusion of septic contamination ;
and these conditions are maintained until sound healing
has taken place. Whenever the discharge reaches the
edg* of the Mackintosh the case requires to be dressed,
and a new supply of gauze applied round the stump. The
gauzo that is used should be freshly made and kept in a
tin box to prevent evaporation of the volatile carbolic acid.
Thi3 precaution is most needful in warm weather. When-
ever the wound is exposed the stump is enveloped in a
vapour (1 in 30) of carbolic acid by means of the steam-
spray producer. At first a syringe was used to keep the
surface constantly wet with lotion, then a hand-spray, such
as Richardson's ether-spray producer. More recently a
steam-spray producer has been introduced into practice.
These dressings are repeated at intervab until the wound
is healed, the drainage-tube being gradually shortened and
ultimately removed altogether.
In the case of an accidental wound to which the surgeon
is called a short time after- its occurrence, carbolic lotion
{1 to 20) must be injected intt) the cavity of the wound
to destroy any organisms which may have fallen into it.
The dressings already described are then ajjplied. In
operating on a case in which putrefaction has occurred,
every endeavour must bo made to destroy tho causes of
putrefaction which are already present. The substance
most frequently used for this purpose is chloride of zinc
solution, 40 grains to 1 oz. of water. This powerful anti-
septic was extensively used some years ago by Mr Do
Morgan. Middlesex Hospital, London. When tho wound
' The gauze dressing consists of thin gauze which hM been soakcj
In a mixture of carbolic acid (1 part), rtn'm (S parts), and paraffin
(7 parts). The object of the- paraffin Is to prWentthe p.auzc sticking to
the sliin. The resin retains the carbolic acid and prevents evaporation
at tho ordinary temperature ; at tho temperature of the body, liowevcr,
a certain quantity of the carbolic acid is constantly being given off, ind
in this way the part operated on is enveloped in a vapour of carbolic
acid. This antiseptic vapour persists as long as there is any carbolic
acid m tho gauze. A gau7.o dresoing is not reliable for more than a
week ; by that time tho carbolic acid in tk(> gauzo is dissipated and
the dressing requires to be renewed.
has been thus purified from its septic condition, the after-
treatment must follow strictly the plan already recom-
mended for a recent wound to avoid secondary contamina-
tion at subsequent dressings.
The object Lister had in view from the beginning of his
experiments was to place the open wound in a condition
as regards the entrance of organisms as closely analogous
as possible to a truly subcutaneous wound, such as a con-
tusion or a simple fracture, in which the unbroken skin
acts as a protection to the wounded tissues beneath. The
introduction of this practice by Lister effected a complete
change in operative surgery. Although the principle on
which he founded it was at first denied by many, it is now
very generally acknowledged to be correct. In Germany
more especially his views were speedily accepted. In
France and England their adoption was slower. In Scot-
land, perhaps in consequence of the fact that many saw
him at work and worked under him, acquiring perhaps
some 'little part of his persevering enthusiasm, he soon
had many believers. Since about 1875 surgeons have been
trying to improve and simplify the method; chemists have
been at pains to supply carbolic acid in a pure form and
to discover new antiseptics, the great object being to get
a non-irritating substance which shall at the same time be
a powerful germicide. Iodoform, eucalyptus, salicylic acid,
boracic acid, corrosive sublimate, have been and are being
used, and the question as to their relative superiority is not
yet settled. Carbolic acid has the disadvantage of irri-
tating the tissues. This is partly counterbalanced by its
anaesthetic properties. Absorption of the carbolic acid has
occasionally taken place, giving rise to symptoms of poison-
ing. But this danger has been greatly lessened by the
introduction of pure acid. Of the antiseptics named
carbolic acid, eucalyptus, and iodoform are volatile ; the
rest are non-volatile. At first Lister for some year.s irrigated
a wound with carbolic lotion during the operation, and
at the dressings when it was exposed. The introdi\ction
of the spray displaced the irrigation method. At the present
time the irrigation method is again gaining favour. All
these different procedures, however, as regards both the
antiseptic used and the best method of its application in
oily and watery so)"tious and in dressings, are entirely
subsidiary to the great principle involved — namely, that
putrei'action in a wound is an evil which can be prevented,
and that, if it is prevented, local irritation, in so far as it
is due to putrefaction, is obviated and septica;mia and
pyajmia do not occur. Alongside of this great improve-
ment the immense advantage of free drainage is now uni-
versally acknowledged. Surgeons now understand the
dangers which lie on every side, and this knowledge causes
them to take greater care in tho purification and in securing
the greater cleanliness of wounds, and some hold that much
of the good result follows from these precautions apart from
the principle of the system.
Putrefaction has been clearly shown by Pasteur, Tyndal ,
and others to be due to the activity of certain lowly forns
of organized matter. Scientific men have therefore had thcr
attention more particularly directed to these lower forms
of plant life. A careful study has been made of their
life history, and .several diseased conditions are now known
to be due to tho deposit "and growth of organisms of a
specific form in the blood and in the tissues. This is not
the place to discuss points still subjudice; but there can
be no doubt, e.y., that tho Bacillus anlliracis is the cause
of splenic fever and of its local manifestation, malignant
pustule, and that erysipelas is >duo to the presence vf a
micrococcus. There are many other diseases spoken cf a3
zymotic or fermentative, upon which observers are now
at work, and hardly a month |>;issc3 without the publicai ion
of new observations (compnre Scuizomxcetes).
680
SURGERY
[PEACnCB
certainly be said that the relation between those organisms
and various specific diseases is the question which at pre-
sent most occupies the attention both of pathologists
and of practitioners of medicine and surgery. It is now
known that there are many varieties of organisms (in
Crookshank's Badaiology sixty are described), some of
which are hurtful to the human economy, though others
are apparently harmless. Those of the former class give
rise to an alteration in the tissue in which they grow ; and
during their growth they alter its composition and cause
it to break up into various compounds, some of which,
when absorbed into the blood-stream, poison the individual.
Some, on the other hand, are either in themselves innocuous
or are killed when they enter the blood, which is a fluid
tissue and acts as a germicide ; hence the tissues in a healthy
condition are spoken of as "germicidal." Some appa-
rently grow only on dead tissue, or in tissue the vitali^ i
of which has been lowered.
Ferment- The alteration in the tissue is strictly analogous to a
ations. fermentation — such, for example, as the change which takes
place in a solution of grape sugar in which the yeast plant
has been planted. The solution breaks up into alcohol and
carbonic acid ; along with this change there is an increase
in the quantity of the yeast. The most common fermenta-
tion is the alteration termed " putrefactive " or " septic."
The cause of this change is in all probability a special
organism named Bacterium termo. It lives on any dead
matter containing nitrogen when exposed to heat and
noistiire ; dryness and cold are antagonistic to its growth.
Its lesults are so evident and of such common observation
that the term "antiseptic" was used long before the primary
cause of the condition was understood. Antiseptics origin-
ally were substances which interfered with sepsis. The
term has now, however, a wider meaning, and includes any
substance opposed to fermentation. " Antifermentative "
or " antitheric " would be a better term. An antitheric
substance is one which interferes with fermentation by
destroying or paralysing the organism which is the primary
cause of the condition. The word "antiseptic," on the
other hand, should be reserved to denote any substance
which is opposed to putrefaction or sepsis, — one form of
fermentation. Many of the most dangerous fermentations
have nothing in common with putrefaction : the products
which result are odourless; the appearances which arise
bear no similarity to the changes which occur when putre-
factive ferment^tiouivs present. Plant the Bacterium lactis
in milk, and souring, or the lactic acid ferrhentation, takes
place ; plant the Bacterium termo in milk, and putrefactive
fermentation occurs. The fermentations of smallpox,
vaccinia, sjrphilis, scarlet fever, typhoid, relapsing fever,
typhus, erysipelas, and cholera may be, taken as examples
of fermentations of the non-putrefactive class. Apparently
in them the organism enters the blood-stream, there de-
jvelops and forms its products, which, acting directly or in-
directly on the heat-centre, give rise to a specific fever.
This fever continues until the soil is worn out, and the
organism, finding no longer a nidus for its development,
dies out, and recovery takes place. Death of course results
if the individual has not suiBcient strength to withstand
the attack. There is a general law regarding all living
things which holds true of these lowly organisms as of the
highest : remove its food and the organism dies, or at any
rate ceases to develop. It may, however, lie quiescent,
again appearing when a new nidus is provided for it. These
considerations explain the reason why, after one attack,
the individual is protected for a longer or shorter period.
They also explain why many diseases are becoming through
course of time less virulent than they once were : the soil
> John Hunter defines "vitality ■* as Xha po jrof which. resists putre-
EactioQ,
is becoming exhausted in relation to the special require'
ments of the organism, and the organism is therefore
incapable of flourishing as it formerly did. Plant the
organism in a virgin soil — tajte, for example, as was un-
wittingly done, the organism of measles to Fiji — .and a
disease which in Great Britain is comparatively harmles.'
becomes a most deadly scourge.
An attempt has been made to divide organisms into two
great divisions — the infective and the non-infective. ' The
first class can grow in living tissue; the second cannot.
The first form their products in living matter ; the second,
can only grow in dead or lowly vitalized matter. The in-
fective organism can migrate from the original point of en-
trance by the vascular and lymphatic streams to distant
parts of the body, and may there form secondary foci of
infection. As regards the non-infective the manufactory
of the poison is principally restricted to the near neighbour-
hood of the original point of entrance, generally a wound. It
cannot migrate into the living tissues around if they remain
healthy. Both kinds of organism form ptomaines (tttZixo.
a carcase), the products of the fermentation which result
from the breaking up of the tissue or discharge in which
the organisms grow. They may enter the blood-stream
and poison the patient. Their entry into the blood must
be differentiated from the entry of the organism itself into
the stream. Clinically, the two conditions, although oftefl
met with in one individual, are in many cases distinctly
separable. This physiological division of organisms inta
infective and non-infective is at present only tentative,,
and much work must be done before a strictly physiologii
cal classification can be attempted ; at present the maim
line of inquiry mUst be principally morphological. Even)
in this direction a diflSculty meets the observer, becausa
organisms change their shape according to the media ini
which they are cultivated.
In the present article only a general view of the presenti
aspects of surgical practice can be given. Special stress
will be laid upon the principles which guide the surgeon ia
his daily work. For full particulars with reference to any
special points the reader is referred to Holmes's System of,
Surgery, Erichsen's Science and Art of Surgery, and Gross's
System of Surgeiy.
Surgical affections may be divided into two great classes,
— those which are the result (1) of injury and (2) of disease
I. Injttries.
Before proceeding to the consideration of the different injuries
it will be necessary to say a few words about the general condition
termed shock or collapse, which supervenes after a severe injury.
Care must be taken not to confound this state with faintness or
syncope from loss of blood. Undoubtedly in many cases both con-
ditions are present. Syncope from loss of blood ia considered
below. Syncope from mental emotion differs from shock in degree
only. In shock the patient is pale, and bathed in cold clammy
perspiration ; his sensibility is blunted ; his pulse is small and
feeble ; he is unable to make any active exertion, but lies in bed
indifferent to external circumstances, and can only be roused with
difficulty ; he frequently complains of a feeling of cold ; and ha
may have a distinct shivering or rigor. These symptoms may
continue for some hours ; the first evidence of improvement is that
he shifts his position in bed and complains of the pain of tha
injur)' which has caused the condition. The pulse becomes stronger,
and he then passes from the state of shock into the condition o£
reaction. If the improvemenfcontinues recovery will take place^
but if it is only transient the patient will sink back again intoi
a drowsy condition, which, if it persists, will end in death. In
severe cases there may be no inaction ; the patient then gradually
becomes weaker and weaker, his pulse feebler and feebler, till
death ensues. Shock is due to an impression conveyed to tha
central nervous system by an afferent nerve of common or special
sensation. This impression produces a change in the medulla/
oblongata, by which the nerve-centres are so affected that a partial
paralysis or paresis of the voluntary and involuntary musculaj
fibres in the body takes place. In consequence of the change iq
the voluntary muscles the patient is unable to lift his arm or movs
his leg; the respiratory functions. are performed wearily, and the
S U R G E li
INJURIES. J
, .1- 1, „^ ^nnh-icta feeblv : the mnscular fibres in the
"'",f'%l« blood'veSXs^ [heir tonicity and the blood-vessels
walls of the blood-vesseis lo ^^^^^_ ^^^^
i'
681
Keep up the normal ">c"' sufficient energy to contract,
in partfal abeyance : t?**. J^^':''^, "^^t °^ blood passing into it from
anfthere is not a B>^*"^°^^'1^« ^/ebly (l)\.ecause its nervous
the blood-vessels. J]-^ f "™it has not a sufficient quantity
energy IS lowered, and (^ be^^"^^ '^ ^^ „f tj^ese facts gives the
of blood to act upon An "„JLt!^m External stimulation over
general indications for t^^^^f^^'-Z^^'e^'Se stupes ; (2) elevation
?he heart by mustard poultices or ^pentae st p^^,^ ; ^^ ^^^^^ .
of the limbs, to cause the W°°f^° f^^^^t^ f„m below upwards,
(3) manual pressure on *«»^J™\he Seated abdominal veins
to encourage the flow °^ ,^^°fJ°^.^,^,,Tm:iy be supplemented
into the heart. These ^ ff"?""' ™^f "v^^^^J^i or, if the patient
ty the administration of «t"°>J»'' ^^y „\' Ta diffus ble stimulant,
cannot swallow, by subcutaneous injection of a mn ^^^^ ^^^^^^
,sach as ether or ammonia. '°^y°XveVsufficient quantity of
emotion the weakened heart f °°°' °!^\^a to "<1 ^^^^^ '^°^"
blood to the brain ; 'Jf^.Pf i^-^^f^.tus^irc^y one and the recumbent
insensible. The condition is a t™°^}f^y Tj^^ lin,bs causes the
posture, assisted if neea be byel^;^'°° is thereby stimulated to
tlood to gravitate to the ^^^^•^^'^tolithlniv^^^^
ind the faintness wiU pai« off. „„ freely supplied with blood-
With few -cePt;-^ J' fo a cons^d-'t'- °^ the different
vessels, and as » P"™i""fi t"^„ a few words about hiemorrhage
forms of injuries it will be ^7'' >° '^^^ ^^'^j^cross, the blood within
or bleeding. If a blood-v ssel is torn or cut acj-^ss^ -^ the
it -capes, either e^ternagn^^ :^ .^.^^ ,„
case of a ^"bcutaneous mju i, -j^^^ ^^ ^^^^^_
-reTanS':f" f b^^^^^ ^^^Jeof ^^h/tl °of
Lthe adoption of ft'^^.t^^t'spWelUngpowr is weakened,
blood may be so great *f * ™/ .\S^ But there is always
""f '"^ ""thaU^ith'the a r sfo he hSmoVrhage the heart's action
■B. danger tbat with the arrest o^ recommence. In arresting
WbTacc";rately ap'r^lied- If tl]e bleeding po-t cannot bej^eached.
the pressure should
jpliea. II tne uieeuiug j^y."-- -— ., ■
be applied to the main artery between the
U^fing^intrnd the hearl In smalVblood-vessels P-ssure wi
Sit..ffifie'nt to arrest 1-moi.hage I^rmanently ^ ^ ifwfth frS
it is usual to P^=4.1'gft""™"^?*t,ibTe at the bleeding point,
knot. Aply the ligature aUo^ possible at the^W ^g^p^ ^^^^
-far.^c^'^/i l;l^-^^^
^^°r"rth"baes:er in rtatTn^tLs: different varieties the
saline solution, composca oi u y'-i ^>-"- "'■;-'■" „pnerallv
t - ?ttn Z\:Z'ZTn(o the bloodjstream with ^^^^
•^Yn a recent contusion careful P^?^^"^^'*''";''^''^!''' ' i^Ts t"
cotton wadding fixed *" ^^ -^t^SS of thcTfTu'se^S
prevent ecchymosis and .*". \»f '^^^^^^ "^ accu "to pressure fulfils
Mood after it has escaped into the tissues, -"ct^u'^ ^ l . , ,
these cuds more perfectly than tho commoner appUcat.on of .o. l.
The procedure for the treatment of an open wound is— (1) arrest
of hamorrhage ; (2) removal of any foreign bodies in the wound ;
(B) careful apportion of its edges and surfaces,— the edges being best
brought in contact by the use of horse-hair stitches, the surfaces
by carefully applied pressure ; (4) free drainage of the wound to
prevent accumulation either of blood or of serous effusion, which
may be done— (a) by leaving the dependent comer open, or (6) by
introducing a drainage-tube, a skein of catgut, or a skein of horse-
hair ■ (5) avoidance of putrefaction .by the use of antiseptic pre-
cautions ; (6) perfect rest of the part by appropriate means dtmng
the cure These methods of treatment require to be modihed foij
wounds in special situations and for those in which there is mucl^
contusion and laceration. In punctured wounds free dramage is
of primary importance. "When a special poison has entered the
wound at the time of its infliction or at some subsequent date th^
following dangers have to be combated— (1) an intense inflamma-
tion in tie wound itself and surrounding parts; (2) inflammation
of the lymphatic vessels leading from it ; (3) inflammation of th«
lymphatic glands; (4) blood-poisoning of the general circulation.
One of the commonest poisons is that connected with wound putre.
faction • of others some are the result of diseased action in the lowe^
animals, c.ff., hydrophobia, whilst some are special diseases in man.
These diseased conditions are at the present time bemg carefiillj
studied and the observations all tend to one conclusion, thai
they are due to specific organisms which have found entrance inta
the diseased animal or man, and, finding there a suitable nidus fo<
their growth and development, have set up a specific disease. II
the surgeon is accidentally wounded in operating on the livuig
subject, or the pathologist in making a post-mortem examination,
the poison may pass into the wound and give rise to one or more
of the symptoms already indicated. There can be no doubt that
these special poisons,^ which are spoken of as pathogenic or infect-
ive are in some way associated with low forms of plant life, and
that in this they resemble the poison of putrefaction. If the operator
is in good health the poison will generally have little effect ; if he
is in bod health the effect may be very severe \Ve do not yet toow
in what cases bad results ara to be expected. The great point m
every doubtful case is to purify the wound thoroughly with somo
powerful antiseptic, so as to destroy the poison at the poiut of
Fnoculation. If the poison escapes the germicidal action of th(,
antisept c used and enters the system, the patient should be stunu.
Cd as the poison exercises a depressing action. For hydrophobia
no cire is at present known. Experiments are, however now
0887) being iSade by Pasteur which will throw some Ught on ,
^^Burnfa^rdlng'olis accidents in ycun. children and - old people j
when the a,eas affected are large, and wlen they are situated over
The cavities of the body. The patient may die of shock soon aftes
the accident of deep-seated inflammations coming on during the sUfjq
of reac ion, or of hectic, which in aU probability is a form of chron.q
pv Jmia as ociated with profuse discharge from the wounded surface
Kvent d ath from any of these causes stimu ating treatnient i^
necessary It has long been known that it is important to keep
?hrair from the wound^ed surface, and antiseptic ^^--^^^ --^ o^
used to prevent tlie .-.ccess of organisms to it. -When tl e sKin ^
rettroverto any great extent contraction is apt to take place,
fnllowed by de"oLity. Care must bo taken during the proce^ of
°u"e pre'^enlZs 'by keeping the limb in an extenaed pos. ion
si,r:?^^^:^.:'rxii^rxr^n»
iSK^iS nl^^n-f^^KS
of a S head, become fixed and from them cicatrization spreads
l^irskinfram^^t whl^h'the g?af[s'afe of the whole thickness
"'Abo'ne maybe oro.en at tnc P-t where it is st^ck or it n^^^
break in consequence of a strain applied to it. In the lornier <aiu
t^o fracture is generally transverse and in tho 1'''.'^^ -nfo o^, «?*•
the iracturo 13 y~y .^ developed bon" is broken fairiy
TnlCu^'rtC l\U'iVifthr^f.'pan^^^^^^^
la parts in the compound f^f cturo may bo^causo 1 e^'- by^tl.o
same force which has caused the f'^='^!^";-\,"^ '"„ft p„u and theu
wheel .oing over a I'-l;; "^ X™ poln of'the &red bono
fracturing t^.e bone or by * " ^''"/P^P" ^bero is a communication
coming through the skin. ''Y'V'^.^V^ j bono. As some yfani
between the external ■"' ""'^.^^i^i^Jrof tb« bono become^nite.1
elapse before tho epiphyseal ^'""""'l;', ^„ionco may cause «,
by osseous deposit to tho shaft, external violence m } ^
A'^^y (trans, by Macalistcr, Loudon, IH83 84). ^^^ ^^^
682
SURGERY
[practice.
separation of the epiphysis from tht. shaft. Tliis variety of frac-
ture is termed a duistasis. When a, bone is broken there is gener-
ally distortion and preternatural mobility, inability to use the limb,
and pain on pressure over the fractured part. In the majority of
fractures there is also crepitus, — the feeling elicited when two
osseous surfaces are rubbed together. When a bone is bent, or
when a diastasis has occurred, there is no crepitus. It is also
absent in impacted fractures, in which the broken extremities are
driven into one anotlier. In order to get firm osseous union in
a case of fracture the great points to attend to are accurate ap-
position of the fragments and complete rest of the broken bone.
Accurate apposition is termed "setting the fracture"; this is best
done by the extension of the limb and coaptation of the broken
surfaces. Complete rest is attained by the use of appropriate
splints. As a rule it is of great importance to command the joint
above and below the seat of fracture. In cases of fracture near a
joint, in which very commonly a splintering of the bone into the
joint has taken place, more especially in those eases in which
numerous tendons in their tendinous sheaths have been stretched,
if the surgeon forgets that there may be effusion into the joint and
the tendinous sheaths, and that this effusion may form fibrous
tissue leading to stiffness of the joint and stiffening of the tendons,
the result, more especially in old people, -srill be a permanently stiif
joint or permanently stiffened tendons. Care must be taken in
such instances by gentle passive movement during the process of
cure to keep the joint and tendons free from the fibrous formation.
To take a common example, — in fracture of the radius close to the
■wrist joint, it is necessary to apply appropriate splints to keep the
bone at rest, and to arrange them so that the patient can move his
fingers and thumb to prevent stiffness, and the splints must be
taken off occasionally in order to move the wrist joint gently. If,
however, the splints extend to the points of the fingers and are
kept on for some weeks without removal, the consequence is a
normal radius and a useless hand. Instances occasionally occur
in which non-union results, either from want of formative power
on the part of the individual or in consequence of improper treat-
ment by the surgeon. For the treatment of this condition the
reader is referred to one ef the systematic works mentioned above.
For fractures of the cranium see below, p. 688.
■Vteat- There isno form of injury in which the truth of the principles
ment of first advocated by Lister has been more prominently, brought
torn- forward than in compound fractures. When such an accident
gound occurs from direct violence the soft parts are generally much
^actures. crushed and the bone is frequently comminuted. When a bone is
broken from indirect violence the fracture is frequently oblique
and tlie sharp point of the bone projects through the skin. In
such a case the injury is, as a rule, not so severe. Formerly com-
pound fractures were the dread of the surgeon : septic inflammation
occurring in the wound reached the open medullary cavity of the
bone, and the open blood-vessels of the bone gave easy access to
the causes' and products of the inflammation into the general blood-
stream, giving rise to pyemia. It is not asserted, however, that
this accident always occurred. In a case of compound fracture the
wound should be at once covered with a towel thoroughly soaked
in a five per cent, solution of pure carbolic acid. And, if some time
elapses before the arrival of a surgeon, more of the solution must
be poured upon the towel, which should be kept thoroughly soaked.
After the fracture is set it will probably be necessary to inject the
solution into the interstices of the wound, over which an efficient
antiseptic dressmg must be applied. When the injury is so severe
that it is impossible to preserve the limb, amputation is the only
resource. It is often a difficult thing to say when the surgeon
should amputate. The question will frequently be settled by a
consideration of the general circumstances and suiToundings of the
patient, and no definite rules can be laid down. Speaking in general
terms, an artificial substitute may take the place of the lower limb,
tut no artificial substitute can ever efficiently take the place of the
upper limb ; and therefore surgeons will run some risk in attempt-
ing to save an upper limb which they will not do in treating an
inj ury of a lower limb.
There are three principal tjrpes of joint injury — (1) sprain or strain,
in which the ligamentous and tendinous structures around the joint
are stretche. and even lacerated; (2) contusion, in which the
cartilaginous surfaces of the opposing bones in the joint are driven
forcibly together ; (3) dislocation, in which the articular surfaces
are separated from one another ; in this last injury the ligamentous
.capsule of the joint must be torn to allow the accident to occur.
Joint strength may be classified anatomically under three heads —
(1) ligamentous, due to the ligaments binding the bones together ;
{2) osseous, due to the shape of the bones forming the joint ; (3)
muscular, due to the muscles surrounding the joint. Ligamentous
strength predisposes to sprains, osseous to contusions, and muscular
to dislocations. A joint is frequently saved from injury in conse-
(juence of the relative weakness of a bone near it. The ankle joint
is saved by the weakness of the fibula, the wrist joint by the weak-
ness of the radius, the sterno-clavicular joint by the weakness of
the clavicle ; the fracture of the bone preserves the joint from
injury. The tonicity of the muscular stnictures around a joint
often prevents a dislocation, the patient being prepared for the
violence to which his joint is subjected. The osseous strength of
a joint will depend very much on the position of the limb at the
time of the accident.
AVhen a joint is sprained or contused there is effusion into it and
into the structures around it. In such cases accurately applied
pressure will prevent effusion, and along with gentle passive exer-
cise and rubbing will prevent subsequent stiffness. When a joint
is dislocated it is of importance to restore the bones to their normal
position as soon as possible after the accident. Within the last
few years, in several dislocations, the treatment by extension of
the limb and forcible pressure of the bones back into their normal
position has been given up, and a method of treatment at one timo
in use in the French schools has been revived by Dr Bigelow of
Boston, Mass., who has pointed out that with less force and there-
fore less injury a dislocated joint may be reducwl by manipulation.'
The great principle at the root of this treatment is to manipulatu
tlie limb so as to cause the dislocated bone to pass back into ita
normal position by the same path by which it left it. In com-
pound dislocations the same precautious must be attended to as in
compound fractures.
II. Process op REPAm.
After an injury certain changes take place, which, if kept within"
bounds, terminate in repair, in other words, in a restoration of the
injured part to a condition as nearly as possible normal. When
the injury is severe the restoration may fall far short of the normal.
The recovery may take place with very little pain or discomfort
even in severe injuries. Frequently, however, as the result either
of improper treatment on the part of the surgeon or of feebleness
on the part of the person injured, local uneasiness and a general '
feverish condition arise, which interfere with the healing. When
these evil results follow, a local death of tissue in a greater or less
degree is observed. Three forms of local death have been described Forms oi
—(1) suppuration or the formation of pus; (2) ulceration, or the local
formation of an ulcer ; (3) mortification, or the formation of a death,
slough. These three processes run imperceptibly into one another.
They are not distinctly separable from one another, and they very
frequently occur together. It is to be noted that the process of
repair and the local death which interferes with a painless repair
differ only in degree. As a general rule, in the truly subcutaneous
wound of tissue, be it the soft parts or bone, the changes that take
place ending in its repair are simple and uncomplicated ; it is in
the open wounds of the soft parts and in 'compound fractures of
bone that complications arise.
In order to understand this process, it will be best to take a RepaU
simple injury,' such as a clean cut. As the result of the passage of of an
even the sharpest knife through the tissues a microscopic laceration incised
along the line of the incision must occur. The skin, subcutaneous 'wound.
fat, fascia, and muscle are divided. These parts being vascular,
bleeding takes place from the cut vessels. Let us suppose that the
bleeding has ceased, and that the surfaces and edges of the wound
are not brought into contact. The retractile power of the tissues,'
when they are divided, necessarily produces a trench-shaped gap.
If the sides of this gap are watched a weeping of a straw-coloured
fluid will be observed, which, when examined under the microscope,
is seen to have corpuscles floating in it. The fluid is the liquor
sanguinis of tlie blood, and the corpuscles are the blood corpuscles.
In the blood as it circulates throughout the vessels in the body,
the yellow or red blood corpuscles are greatly in excess of the
white. In this fluid the white blood corpuscles are very numerous.
Careful observation, with the aid of a sufficiently powerful micro-
scope, 'will show the formation of fine fibrils of a solid substance,
'which gradually extend over the field ; this fibrillation takes its
start from the white blood corpuscles. The effusion has coagulated.
A soft solid — fibrin — is formed, which gradually contracts, and
a clear fluid escapes ; this is the blood serum. To return to the
wound, — in consequence of the injury the smaller blood-vessels
dilate, their walls are thinned, and a stasis or stoppage of the flow of
blood within these vessels takes place. The stasis is caused by the
injury to the vessel walls, rendering the blood corpuscles more ad-
hesive. The circulation is going on in the vessels beyond the area of
stasis. The blood in a state of stasis acts as an obstruction, and con-
sequently there is an increased pressure on the inner surface of the
thin walls. As a result the fluid part of the blood or liquor sanguinis
and the corpuscular elements of the blood escape into the tissues
and on to the .surface of the wound. On this surface and in the
tissue next the surface a clotting takes place, and fibrin is formed.
The surface of the wound becomes glazed, and as the fibrin contracts
the blood serum oozes out upon the wound surface and escapes. The
glazed surface then becomes vascular ; new blood-vessels are formed
in it ; and through these a circulation is set up continuous with
the circulation in the blood-vessels around. If the surfaces of tho
gap are now brought into gentle contact, the blood-vessels on the
two surfaces 'will unite. At first the uniting tissue is very succu-
lent and vascular, and further changes m'ast occur before the uniting
r.EPAip..]
SURGERY
683
medium is consolidated. This is effected by tho formation of fibrous
tissue in the deeper parts of the uniting medium and by the forma-
tion of epithelial tissue in tho mors Bupcrficial parts vlierc the skm
Is divided. Along with the.so changes the uniting mediiuii becomes
less vascular, and a linear scar is tho result.
This is the cas'i of an incised ■nou»i(i in which the surfaces are
not brought at once into contact. If, however, this is done, tlje
same changes take place, and in a small wound no untoward results
need follov.-. But iu a wound of some size there is danger in bring-
ing the edges of tho wound into contact. In consequence of tlic
difference in the retractile power of the different tissues that are
divided, it may bo impossible to bring tho deeper parts into accurate
contact. Tho patient will complain of local pain, accompanied by
a throbbing sensation, showing that an accumulation of serum has
taken place. If a stitch is removed, the serum will escape and the
local uneasiness disappear. If, however, no relief is given, the re-
tained serum, pressing upon tho surrounding tissues and acting as
a foreign body, will cause effusion of more serum. The white blood
corpuscles will pass from the vessels in large numbers, will die, and
practically a cemetery of white blood corpuscles will be formed ;
if a stitch is then removed a creamy fluid escapes. This fluid is
termed "pus." Once the tension is relieved, the local uneasiness
disappears ; but the wound cannot then heal by primary union.
The walls of tho cavity must again become glazed ; vascularization
must take place ; and, as the walls of the cavity gradually come
together by contraction, fibrous tissue is formed. This is unimi bu
second intention.
The collection of white blood corpuscles floating in the effusion
jand eventually forming pus is termed an abscess. Pus may also form
amougst the tissues after a blow or other injury. As the result of a
blow a certain area of tissue becomes congested, and effusion takes
place into the tissues outside the vessels ; the effusion coagulates
and a hard brawny mass is formed. This mass softens towards
the centi-e ; and if nothing is done the softened area gradually
increases in size, the skin becomes thinned over it, the thinned
skin loses its vitality, and a small slough is formed. When the
slough gives way, tho pus escapes. Such shortly is the history of
an acute abscess under the skin, and the explanation generally
given is that a local necrosis or death of tissue takes place at that
fiart of tho inflammatory swelling farthest from the normal circu-
atioD. 'When the dying process is very acute death of the tissue
occurs en masse, as in the core of a boil or in tho slough in a
carbuncle. Sometimes, however, no such evident mass of dead
tissue is to bo observed, and all that escapes whon the slcin gives
way ia the creamy pus. In the latter case tho tissue has broken
down in a molecular form ; in the former case it has broken down
«7t masse. After tho escape of tho core or slough along with a
pertain amount of pus, a cavity is left, the walls of which become
;lined with lymph. The lymph becomes vascular, and receives the
bame of granulation tissue. The cavity heals by second intention.
Pus may accumulate in a normal cavity, such as a joint or bursa.
It may also bo met with in the cranial, thoracic, and abdominal
cavities. In all these situations, if tiio diagnosis is clear, the
principle of treatment is free evacuation of the pus, and in joints
and in the peritoneal and pleural sacs washing out the cavity at
the time of opening, free drainage, and careful antiseptic treatment
during tho subsidence of tho inflammatory process. The tension is
relieved by lettiug out the pus. If the after-drainage of the cavity
is thorough tho formation of pus ceases, and tho serous discharge
from the inner side of the abscess wall gradually subsides ; and as
the cavity contracts the discharge becomes less and less, until at last
the drainage-tube can be removed and the external wound allowed
to heal. The large collections of pus which form in connexion
with disease of tho vertebras iu tho cervical, dorsal, and lumbar
regions are also now treated by free evacuation of tho pus, with
caieful antiseptic measures. In all cases care should bo taken to
mako tho opening as dependent as possible in order that the drain-
ago may be thoroughly efticient. If tension occurs after opening
by the blocking of tho tube, or by its imperfect position, or by
its being too short, there mil bo a renewed formation of pus.
When a considerable poMiou of tissue dies in conseciuence of an
injury, the death taking placo by gradual breaking down or dis-
integration, tho process is termed ulceration, and tho result is an
iilcer. As long as tho original cause which formed tho ulcer is at
work, the gap in tho tissuea becomes larger and larger. Suppose
that tho \ilcerative process is goihg on and tho ulcer is spreading.
The ulcer is then painful and the parts around are inflamed.
Jtemove the cause by appropriate treatment and the necrotic process
ceases, the shreds of tissue are cast off, tho ulcer giadually cleans,
the inflammation subsides, tho pain disappears : the ulcer becomes
a healing ulcer. The surface of the gap liccomes glazed, and those
changes take place in it which have already been described as
occurring in an open wound. Tho ga]) prnduailly contracts in size.
Uound the edges cicatrization occurs, leaving a scar or cicatrix.
M'ithin tho last few years the process of cicntrizntion has been
Imstened by planting on tho granulation tissue sniftU grafts of
-dermic tissue iu tho uauner already described (p. 681). Tlieru
can bo-Jittle doubt that the growth of an ulcer, as well as the
disintegiatiiig process which iirecedcs its formation, is closely
associated with the multiplication of low forms of plant life in
the decaying tissue. By destroying these organisms with some
jiowerful antiseiitio the destructive process may be checked. Since
these organisms live ou decaying matter, thev are termed "sapro-
phytic." Tlic healthy tissues are antagonistic" to their growth, and
any treatment whicli renders the tissues arouud the gap healthy
will interfere with their further development. Tlie entrance of
those organisms into a wouud made by the surgeon, if they find in
it a suitable soil for their development, is ondoubtodly also a fertile
cause of suppuration in wounds. But it must be distinctly remem-
bered that any means which are adopted to keep the injured tissues
in a healthy condition interferes with the growtli of these sapro-
phytes as directly as if tho surgeon used some antiseptic substance
which destroyed them. What relation obtains between a local
necrotic process, such as the formation of a boil with its central
slough, situated necessarily in the first instance under the skin, or
tho equally necrotic process, the formation of pus in a subcutaneous
abscess, and tlicse low forms of jilant life ? There can be no doubt
that by the injection into the tissues of a powerful irritant these
necrotic changes can be induced without the intervention of
organisms. Professor Ogstou and Jlr Watson Cheyne have also
shown that micrococci are present in the great majority of acute
subcutaneous necrotic inflammations, as they are commonly met
with in the human body. Here tho question at present rests. The
opinion of the present writer is that in all probability they are the
cause of the necrotic process. It is not asserted that they are the
cause of tho primary inflammation, which need not go ou to
necrosis ; but the probability is that they find in the inflamed area
a nidus for their growth and development. It is not known how
they cause it, whether by dirc-t action upon the tissues or by
irritating products formed during their growth. The organisms
described by Ogston and Cheyne have a life history and require
conditions for their e.^istence and development different from those
demanded by tho saprophytic organisms already described To
reach' tho subcutaneous area of inflammation they must pass by the
blood-stream, and must be able to exist in the living blood. They
are probably associated with the infective class of organisms, la
some suppurations at the present moment, such as acuto suppurative
periostitis, the formation of pus under the periosteum connected
with bone, a suppuration within the medullary cavity of a bono
called osteomyelitis, and in acute ulcerative endocarditis, the organ''
isms met with are undoubtedly infective. We do not know exactly
how they enter the blood-stream, but we know that they can live
in it, and that the occurrence of these diseased conditions is un-.
doubtedly a local effect closely connected with blood-poisoning.
A portion of the body may die in consequence cither of an intense
inflammation or of a cuttine off of the blood-supply. Besides these
two distinct varieties there is a great intermediate group of cases in
which both causes may be at work. A comparatively slight injury
affecting a portion of the body imperfectly supplied with blood may
give rise to an inflammatory condition which in a healthy jjart
would be easily checked, but which in consequence of imperfect
nutrition may end in mortification. Whilst tho pressure of a tight
boot in an old person with atheromatous vessels can give rise to
mortification, the same pressure in a healthy person would give riso
only to an evanescent redness. Frost-bito is a incalized death of
a portion of the body wliicli has been exposed to prolonged cold-
It may attack the fingers or toes. The death may occur directly
without any intermediate reactionary inflammation, or it may follow
an excessive reactiou. Tho rule of treatment in all cases of gangrcno
in which there is a tendency to death is to keep the part warm by
layers of wadding, but to avoid all methods which hurrj' the
returning circulation; because any such iricrcasa would bo followed
by excessive reaction, which in its turn ia a part already weakened
would be followed by secondary death. When tho part is dead,
envelop it in antiseptic wadding to prevent putrefaction ; wait
until the line of demarcation between tho living tissues and the
dead part is evident, and then, if tho case permits, amputnto at a
higher ievcl. In spreading gantrreno in which sepsis is present,
and in which no line of demarcation foims, tho best chanco for tho
patient — at best a poor one — is to araputato high up in sound
tissues. In these cases tho blood is generally poisoned, and if the
patient recovers from tho primary shock of tho operation a return
of the decaying process may attack the stump, and carry liini oft
III. PlSEvS-^ES.
1. Diseases of Biood-vcssels.
An aneurism, in so far as wo havo to deal with it at present, may
bo defined as a sac communicating with tho lumen of an arl<'r>'.
Tlio sac-wall may bo formed of one or more of tho arterial coat*
which havo become dilated. Tho tissues around, being condonscd
and being more or less adherent to tho sac-wall, strengthen and su|>-
port it. The dilatation of the arterial coats is generally duo to a lof.il|
wiakncss, the result of disease. The diseased condition is ahimst
alwoys a chronic form of inUammat'on, to which the name atheronta
G84
SURGERY
Lpeactice.
Is given. In some instances the local weakness may be due to
an injury bruising or lacerating the vessel and injuring its internal
ooat. When an artery is wounded and when the wound in the
sldn and snperficial structures heals, the blood may escape into the
tissues. In this case it displaces the tissues and by its pressure
causes them to condense and form the sac-wall. The coats of the
vessels, more especially when they are diseased, may be torn from a
severe strain, and the blood will then escape into the condensed tissues
forming the sac-wall. When one or more of the vessel coats form
the sac there results what is called a true aneurism ; in those in-
stances in which the sac-wall is formed by the condensed tissues
around we have a primary false aricurism ; when a true aneurism
bursts and the blood escapes into the tissues around it, as sometimes
occurs in deep-seated aneurisms, giving rise to secondary localized
accumulation, the terra secondary false aneurism is used. In both
varieties of false aneurism the swelling is more diffuse and the
pulsation as a rule is less marked than iu the true aneurism.
The blood in an aneurism js at fust in a fluid state, and at each
beat of the heart a certain amount passes into the sac, causing its ex-
pansion. In all aneurisms there is a tendency to coagulation of the
blood, and a blood-clot is deposited in a laminar form on the inner
surface of the aneurismal sac. In some instances this laminar
coagulation by constant additions gradually fills the aneurismal
cavity. The pulsation iu the sac then ceases ; contraction of the
sac and its contents gradually takes place ; the aneurism is cured.
On the other hand, if the blood within the sac remains fluid, the
aneurism will gradually increase in size ; the tissues over the
aneurism and the sac-wall will become thinned, and at last give
way ; and death occurs from haemorrhage.
^Yeat- 1° t^^ treatment of true aneurism the great principle is to encour-
nent of age coagulation in the aneurismal sac. This can be done by lessening
•"le the force of the circulation generally or locally. The general force
^JJ^"^' of the circulation can be lessened by low diet, rest in bed, avoid-
ance of all causes of vascular excitement, and by the administration
of large doses of iodide of potassium. The force of the circulation
can be decreased locally and temporarily by the application of a
ligature to the artery between the aneurism and the heart or by
the application of pressure upon the main vessel at a convenient
point between the aneurism and the heart. The general treatment
is available in all cases. The local treatment by operation or by
compression is only available in those instances in which the
aneurism is^so situated that the blood-vessel can be compressed or
ligatured, as in aneurisms of the head and neck or of the extre-
mities. In certain aneurisms ia the lower part of the neck and
upper part of the thorax, in which a ligature cannot be applied
between the aneurism and the heart, the blood-flow through the
aneurismal sac has been diminished by the application of a ligature
to one or more of the main vessels on the distal side of the aneur-
ism. The blood-supply to the parts beyond the aneurism being
thus cut off, the immediate effect is increased pressure on the aneur-
ismal sac ; but, since the parts accommodate themselves to altered
circumstances, as the collateral blood-vessels increase in size, be-
coming the main vessels of supply to the parts beyond, the original
channel becomes of secondary importance, the result being a diminu-
tion in the size of the main vessel and diminished blood in the sac,
encouraging coagulation and contraction of the aneurismal sac.
Practically the same effect has sometimes been obtained in a per-
manent way, as in cases of rapidly increasing aneurism of the sub-
clavian artery in the root of the neck by amputation of the upper
extremity at the shoulder joint. And within the last few years,
in popliteal aneurism, the same thing has been done temporarily
by the application of an elastic bandage to the limb from the foot
upwards to the popliteal space, emptying the blood-vessels below
the knee, and in this way cutting off the blood-supply tempo-
rarily. The application of the elastic bandage is cont'nued up
the thigh, care being taken not to make firm pressure with the
bandage as it passes over the aneurism behind the knee joint, so
that the sac may not be emptied of blood. If the sac were emptied,
the object in view would be defeated, because there would be no
blood in the sac to coagulate. The continuation of the bandage in
the thigh above the aneurism is practically a compressing agent
applied to the artery on the proximal side of the aneurism. The
rationale of this treatment of popliteal aneurism, due to Dr Walter
Reid of the British nav\', may, if this explanation is correct, be said
to owe its success to the fact that in it we combine the two great
principles which check the blood-pressure locally, i.e., a cutting off
of the blood-supply beyond the aneurismal sac and compression on
the main vessel on the proximal side. It is to be noted that aU
these different means of checking the blood-pressure within the
aneurismal sac are temporary in their action. The temporary arrest
by compression, the equally temporary arrest by the application of
a ligature, in the latter case the collateral anastomosing circulation
taking tlie place of that of the main trunk which has been ligatured,
start the process of coagulation within the sac, and, the process
hping once started, complete consolidation gradually takes place.
Although these methods of treatment are principally of value in
true aneurism, thev are also to a certain extent useful in secondary
false aneurism. In primary false aneurisms, on the other hand, we
have to deal with a wounded vessel in'which tlie blood, iustead of
being poured out externally, is poured into the tissues, and is
practically a (chronic) bleeding point ; the principle of treatment ia
to open the sac, turn out the clots, and ligature the artery above
and below the bleeding point.
The veins are liable to inflammation (plilebitis). When this occurs
the blood in the vein is liable to coagulation, forming a clot or
thrombus, which, if displaced from its original position, either
makes its way as an embolus towards the heart and is there arrested,
or passes through the cavities of the heart into the lungs, there
sticking and giving risa to lung symptoms. If the thrombus is
formed in the hsemorrhoidal plexus, it passes as an embolus by
the portal system into the liver. If it is formed in the left side of
the heart, it may pass into the large vessels at the root of the neck
and reach the brain, giving rise to symptoms of brain disease. The
thrombus may be formed apart from inflammation of the vein wall
in consequence of diseased states of the blood, as in gout aud
rheumatism, or it may form in consequence of stagnation of the
blood-cuiTent due to slowing of the circulation in various wasting
diseases. When a thrombus forms, absolute rest in the recumbent
posture ill to be strictly enjoined ; the great danger is embolism or
the displacement of the clot from its original positiort. Hot
fomentations in the early stages and belladonna ointment when
the condition becomes sab-auute are the best local applications.
The desire is to promote s.bsorption of the clot. The veins in the
lower extremity and in the hemorrhoidal and spermatic plexus are
liable to dilatation. The condition is termed varLc. The veins
dilate with tortuosity ; the valves become incompetent ; and the
condition is apt to spread. In the lower extremity the primary
cause may be an injury or some obstruction at a higher point.
General laxity of the tissues predisposes to the condition ; occupa-
tions which necessitate much standing and alternation of heat and
cold also act as predisposing causes. The treatment consists in
giving the dilated vessel support by means of an elastic landage or
stocking. When the condition ds local and gives disconjfort, the
vessel may be ligatured at various points so as to cause its oblitera-
tion. This operation should not be undertaken rashly, and should
only be performed if the case is an aggravated one, since it is by
no means devoid of risk. In the hojmorrhoidal plexus the diseaso
is termed internal hemorrhoids or piles ; many operations are per-
formed for this condition, but iu the great majority of cases the
careful use of purgatives and the administration of cold water in-
jections into the rectum will relieve the condition. The dilated
veins often ulcerate and give rise to bleeding piles ; here an opera-
tion is often called for, because the persistent loss of even small
quantities of blood is apt to result in chronic ansemia. The en-
largement of the spermatic plexus is termed varieocele, and almost
always occurs on the left side. The use of a suspensory bandage
and cold bathing should first be tried ; if the disease persists, it is
often associated with mental depression, and an operation — ligature
at several points of the dilated vessel — should be performed. The
disease may be associated with atrophy of the testicle on the same
side, and this liability aggravates the mental condition and en.
courages the surgeon to operate. Inflammation of the lymphatic
vessels in the lower limbs is often associated with inflammation of
the veins in tlie female after delivery, giving rise to the various
forms of white leg. Acute inflammation of the lymphatic vessels
and glands is also associated with poisoned wounds, and has al-
ready been alluded to in connexion with injuries. The use of hot
fomentations and careful elastic pressure with rest are prescribed
for treatment.
2. Diseases of Bone.
Attention has already been directed to one form of injury to a Bone
bone, viz. , fracture. A word may now be said about inflammation disea
of a bone and its results. As a typical instance we will take a
long bone, consisting of a shaft and two extremities. The walls of
the shaft consist of dense bone, the extremities of cancellated tissueJ
The shaft of the bone is hollow, and filled with medullary tissue.
In the fully developed bone the extremities alone are tipped with
cartilage ; in the extremities of the bones of a growing person
there are also layers, termed the epiphyseal cartilages. The bone
is surrounded by a fibrous membrane termed the periosteum. This
membrane is richly supplied with blood-vessels, which ramify
through it and pass, along with lymphatic vessels and nerves, firom
it into the Haversian canals in the dense bone forming the shaft.
The deeper layers of the jieriosteum consist of osteoblastic cells,
which also line the Haversian canals. In the undeveloped condition
these cell elements take an active part in the growth of the bone
as regards its breadth, the epiphyseal cartilages taking an active
part iu its growth as regards its length. The medullary tissue in
the cavity of the bone is supplied by the nutrient artery ; the
cancellated tissue forming the extremities receives its blood-supply
partly from the nutrient artery and partly from vessels passing in-
directly fcom the periosteum. When a bone is injured — as happens,
for example, in a severe bruise — the blood-vessels in the periosteum
and in the Haversian canals become congested, effusion of liouor
DISEASES.]
SURGERY
685
sanguinis and migration of the white blood corpuScics take place,
and a severe gnawing pain is felt at the seat of the bruise. The
pain is severe because the effusion cannot escape. It collects under
the periosteum aud in the Haversian canals. The cell elements in
these situations are irritated, and cell proliferation takes place.
The periosteum becomes thickened, and if the tension continues
8uppuratio;i may occur between the periosteum and the bone. The
periosteum is raised from the bone ; the blood-vessels passing into
the Haversian canals are obliterated or torn across ; and the outer
layers of the hard dense bone, their sources of nutriment being cut
off, die. The extent of the necrosed tissue will depend upon the
extent of the suppurating area ; if the suppurating area includes
the nutrient artery within its range, nutriment being then cut off
from the medullary tissue from which in part the deeper layers of
the shaft of the bone are supplied with blood, death of the whole
thickness of the shaft of the bone may occur. As already stated,
tbe most acute forms of suppurative periostitis and suppurative
osteomyelitis are infective diseases, the suppuration in them being
due to the presence of a micrococcus. If after an injury the primary
inflammation is relieved by fomentations, leeching, or incisions,
suppuration may be prevented; 'or even if, after suppuration has
occurred, free incisions are made to allow the pus to escape, the
periosteum may assume its normal position, and the area of necrosis
be limited or necrosis be prevented altogether. After a portion of
the shaft of the bone dies, the necrosed area is gradually absorbed ;
but, if the area is of considerable size, and more particularly
if 'sepsis occurs, the dead part is gradually separated from the
living, and after a time it becomes loose, and as a rule has to be
removed by operation. If the inflammation, acute in the first in-
stance, becomes sub-acute, or if it is sub-acute from the first, then,
instead of suppuration, the effusion under the periosteum coagu-
ht'es, whereupon lymph is formed, the proliferating osteoblastic
cells in the lymph take up their normal function, and new bone's
made. This mass of new bone is termed a node. In the Haversian
canals the osteoblasts there forming bone will render the bone tissue
more dense and ivory-like in consistence, to which the term sclerosis
is applied. In some cases the osteoblastic cells in the Haversian
canals, instead of forming bone, feed upon the original bony tissue
which constitutes the walls of the canals. The Haversian canals
becoming enlarged, the result is a lessening of tlie amount of
inorganic matter in the area affected, and a cancellation of the
hard bone takes place. This condition is called rarefying ostitis.
The rarefaction of the dense bone may persist, or the process may
stop, the osteoblasts again forming bone and the rarefied area be-
coming sclerosed. In the cancellated tissue in the extremities of
the long bones, and in that which forms the mass of the shoit
bones, such as the vertebrje, the tarsal and the carpal bones, the
inorganic matter compared with the hard bone is relatively in
smaller amount than the organic matter filling the cancellse. Here
as a result of injury the thin laraells of bone may be cut off from
their blood-supply, and death take place. If the process is acute,
an area of cancellated tissue wUl die, and be separated from the
surrounding living tissue as in the hard bone. In consequence,
however, of the quantity of organic matter, death may take place
in a molecular form, more nearly allied to the process of ulceration
in the soft parts. This condition is kno\vn as caries. If tlie
inflammatory process in cancellated tissue is sub-acute, instead
of a molecular death, sclerosis of the cancellated tissue occurs.
'When the cancellated tissue is the seat of inflammation, in con-
sequence of its close connexion and intimate anatomical relations
with the articular cartilages, they in their turn become implicated,
and we have then to deal with disease of the joint. In all cases in
which incisions are made to relieve tension under the periosteum,
or in which portions of bone are removed to relievo tension in the
shaft or in the medullary cavity of a bone, or in which incisions
are made to check the progress of inflammatory action in the can-
cellated tissue, strict antiseptic precautions must bo taken to pre-
Tcnt sepsis occurring in the wound.
3. Diseases nf Joints.
A joinfis a complicated organ, and its integrity depends upon a
healthy condition of the bones wliich form it, of the articular carti-
lages which cover the ends of the bones, and of the synovial mem-
brane which supplies the synovial fluid that lubricates the joint.
These different structures are closely associated anatomically and
physiologically, and disease beginning in any one of them will
assuredly, unless checked, gradually extend to the others. The
cartilage covering the ends of the bones receives its blood-supply
mainly from the bone, and is also to a certain extent supplied at its
edges by the synovial membrane. The cartilage being in itself
non -vascular, disooso does not commence in it; the majority of
joint diseases commence cither in the synovial m^^mbrano or in the
bone; as a general rule they begin with some slight injury of tlio
joint. These injuries consist of strains or twista (of the joint) on
the one hand and jarring or contusion on the other. In the latter
case the elastic cartilage lessens the force of the contusion.
■When a joint is strained, the ligaments binding the bones to-
gether are stretched and the synovial membrane becomes inflamed
Consequently cfl'usion takes place into the joint, which becomes
swollen and painful on pressure. Any movement of it is painful,
and all the muscles around it are rigi<l. In a healthy person appro-
priate treatment— rest, hot fomentations, and gentle elastic pres-
sure—will cause the fluid within the joint to be gradually absorbed,
after which the joint can be restored to its normal condition. When
the inflammation becomes sub-acute the pain disappear, and unless
the joint is kept quiet by appropriate splints the condition is very
apt to become chronic ; that is, the joint becomes swollen and
the -movements are restricted. This condition is most persistent,
and prolonged rust, along with counter-irritation by blistering or
by the application of tincture of iodine, is necessary before the
elfusion subsides. The joint may remain weak for the rest of the
patient's life. Fibrous adhesions may form and prevent free move-
ment. A joint in such a condition is always liable on the slightest
injuiy to have a return of the effusion in an acute or sub-acuto
form. These are the chief consequences of a strain in a healthy
person. In a weakly person the primary strain may e.icail a very
different resiJt. The synovial membrane may undergo gelatiiioua
or pulpy degeneration, and, although it is improbable that this
condition is associated with the tubercular diathesis- in all cases,
there can be no doubt that in very many the degeneration of the
synovial membrane is tubercular in character. The tubercle bacil-
lus has been found in the thickened membrane. A joint in tliis
condition swells ; the enlargement, although it may be due in part to
effusion into the cavity of the joint, is mainly caused by the thicken-;
ing of the sj-novial mcmbi-anc, which has a peculiar doughy semi-
elastic feeling. The movements of the joint are restricted, though
little pain is complained of. If it is an upper limb the patient
will not use it, if a lower limb he will walk with a distinct limp.
The disease is a chronic one, and the joint may remain in this con-
dition for months. Rest, elastic pressure, and blistering may check
the progress of the disease, but as a rale, sooner or later, and very
often as the result of some sliglit injitry, a change takes place
On the one hand, the effusion within the joint, instead of bcin{}
serous, becomes sero -purulent and even purulent, owing to the
formation of pus within it. If the joint is an important one,
inflammatory fever is set up ; the joint becomes intensely painful
on the slightest movement, and unless incisions arc made to allow
the pus to escape it, passes gradually into a state of complete dis-
organization. The cartilage softens and breaks down, so that
gradually the cancellated bone underneath is exposed. A similar
change takes place in the opposing cartilage. It is destroyed in
its turn and the ligaments binding the bones together arc softaned-
and lose their elasticity, so that the joint can be moved in abnormal
directions. A grating sensation can be felt when the cancellated
bony surfaces are rubbed together. Along with these changes
witliin the joint, foci of inflammation form in the soft tissues
around it. These inflammatory areas suppurate ; the abscesses
burst into the joint ; the skin over them gives way ; and com-
munication is established between the external air and the cavity
of the joint. Through this channel the causes of putrefaction
reach the cavity, and complete disorganization of the part accom-
panied by sepsis occurs. Should the joint be an imp'brtant one,
a condition termed hectic is set up. If the discharge is allowed
to continue, a gradual wasting takes place, which sooner or later
ends in the death of the individual, unless the surgeon either re-
lieves the tension by free incisions, or excises the joint, or amputates
the limb. After disorganization has occurred, if the inllammatory
process ceases, anchylosis of the joint may result. But, if the joint is
freely drained and kept at rest, the inflammation will subside, and
the granulation tissue on the two opposing surfaces will unite and
a fibrous formation take place. The process may stop there, or the
fibrous tissue may bo giadually transformed into bone. Osseous
union has taken place between the bones forming the joint. In
many cases this is what the surgeon aims at, and it is of great
importance to keep it constantly in view and to place the joint in
such a position that, if anchylosis docs occur, the limb may be as
useful as possible. This result is only attained after prolonged
treatment, and, if the patient's strength is unequal to it, it will
bo necess.-iry to excise tho afl'ectcd joint or to amputate the limb.
Suppuration sometimes occurs within a joint without any previous
pulpy degeneration of the synovial membrane, either as tho result
of a wound or from septic inflammation secondary to pyicmia, or
in consequence of a very acute simple synovitis resulting from
excessive tension within tho joint. When tho synovial meinbrano
is afl'ected with pulpy degeneration tho vitality of tho cartilaeo at
its edges, where it joins the synovial membrane, may bo interfered
with: tho thickened synovial membrane, by encroaching on tho
articular cartilage, gradually by pressure altera tho nutrition of th»
cartilage so that it disintegrates nrd breaks down, nnd when it la
destroyed disorganization of the joint ensues, as already described.
Should the disnaso assume this form, if care is taken, and if tho joint
is kept quiet, suppuration within it need not necessarily take placo.
The inflammation may assume a sub-acuto typo and fibrous ancby-
I'lsis occur.
686
SURGERY
[practice.
When a joint has been severely contused, separation of the rartila<;c
from the hone occurs ; effusion then takes place between the carti-
lage and the bone ; the cartilage is cut off from its nutrient supply ;
and, unless the joint is kept at complete rest, unless the eifusion
ia absorbed, the cartilage will sooner or later become necrosed.
The necrosed cartilage will gire way ; the bone beneath will be
exposed ; and, if the irritation is kept up, eifusion, at first serous
but soon becoming purulent in consequence of the tension within
the joint, will take place. Changes follow in the opposing carti-
lage, which has been itself bruised by the primary jar, and perhaps
even separated from the bone beneath. It will in its turn necrose,
and the bone will be exposed, suppuration taking place within
the joint. The synovial membrane will become diseased, the liga-
ments softened, and the evil sequence of events already described
will ensue. A joint affected in this way is easily recognized from
one in which the synovial membrane is primarily affected by the
absence of swelling and by the intense pain. In the early stages
complete rest should be obtained by affi.xing a weight to the
affected limb. This, by setting up between the opposed and in-
jured cartilaginous surfaces a condition of negative pressure, will
tend to check the disease. But if this plan of treatment does
not soon cause a subsidence of the pain, actual cautery must at
once be resorted to. Contusion in which the cancellated bone is
injured at some distance from the cartilage is most commonly met
with in young people, in whom the extremities of the bones are
not fully developed. In them the epiphyseal cartilages are richly
supplied with blood for the performance of their physiological
function, the formation of bone, and a comparatively slight in-
jury may cause inflammation to be set up in the bone immediately
in contact with the epiphyseal cartilage. As in the synovial mem-
brane when it is affected with pulpy degeneration, this disease may
be occasionally non-tubercular in character ; but in the majority
of cases, more especially when the primary injury is very slight,
the disease assumes the tubercular type and tubercle is deposited.
In such cases the symptoms are often very insidious ; the young
patient complains of some slight uneasiness, or the first thing
to be noticed is a limp in walking when a lower limb is affected.
£n the case of an upper limb the patient will avoid moving the
affected joint. As there is no external swelling, the disease may
be overlooked in its early stages ; but, if it is suspected, and if the
affected limb is kept at rest, the inflammation will subside and
recovery ensue. On the other hand, if the patient is allowed to
use the limb, even in an imperfect way, the tubercular area may
extend and the articular cartilage become affected. The articular
cartilage does not in that case receive its proper nourishment : it
disintegrates, breaks down, and the disease attacks the joint. Into
this last tubercular matter escapes and suppuration occurs, result-
ing sooner or later in disorganization of the joint.
In recent years a useful limb has often been saved by excision
of the affected joint. In the early stages the disease may subside
under appropriate local treatment, such as counter-irritation, rest,
pressure, assisted by constitutional treatment, such as tonics, fresh
air, and careful dieting. By these means an operation may be
avoided, and in applying such treatment it must be remembered
that, while the disease itself may subside, the joint as an organ may
Anchy- be irretrievably damaged : it may become anchylosed. If anchylosis
•osiB. occurs in a flexed position of the hip or knee joints, the limb will
be useless for progression ; and an operation will be necessary in
order to straighten it. In the ankle joint, if anchylosis occurs
with the foot in an e.xtended position, the patient will not be able
to put his heel to the ground, and an operation will be necessary
to bring the foot at right angles to the leg. Do not interfere with
an anchylosed joint in the lower limb if it is in good position. If
the shoulder joint becomes anchylosed after disease, the sterno-
clavicular and acromio-clavicular joints take up to a great extent
the function of the anchylosed shoulder. In the elbow, in what-
ever position the joint becomes anchylosed, the arm loses much of
its usefulness and excision of the joint is performed in order to get
a movable elbow. In the wrist it may be necessary to operate for
anchylosis ; but as a rule, if the fingers are mobile, the anchylosed
jvrist does not interfere to any great extent with the usefulness of
the hand.
.4. Venereal Diseases.
Three distinct affections are includedMnder this term — gonorrhosa,
chancroid, and syphilis. At one time the^g were regarded as dif-
ferent forms of the same disease ; and, though gonorrhoea is now
Igenerally held to be quite distinct' from the other two, there are
not wanting eminent authorities, including Mr Jonathan Hutchin-
son, who are inclined to look upon chancroid and syphilis as essen-
tially one and the same disease. The present writer believes that
gonorrhtEa, chancroid, and syphilis are three distinct diseases, due
to separate causes, which have nothing in common except their
habitat. The cause in each case i? a specific vims, probably a
micro-organism. In the case of gonorrhoea th» virus attacks
mucous membranes, especially that of the urethia ; in chancroid
mucous membranes and the skin are affected ; in syphilis the
whole system comes under the influence of the poison. Gonorrhcta
and chancroid correspond to the process of septic intoxication.
The organisms on implantation set up a local disturbance, and the
products of this fermentative process pass into the system and give
rise to constitutional effects ; but the organisms themselves do not
pass into the system generally. In syphilis, on the other hand,
there is a true infective process : the organisms pass into the general
circulation and live and multiply wherever they find a suitable
nidus. The joint affection commonly called "gonorrheal rheu-
matism," which sometimes follows gonorrhoea, is in all probability
an infective condition. If this is true, then in these rare cases
gonorrhoea is infective. The chancroid poison may pass into the
lymphatics and cause inflammation of the lymphatic glands in the
groin, giving rise to chancroidal bubo. These clinical facts are
undoubtedly opposed to any generalization such as that laid down
above, and it is right to note them ; but the gefleral comparison
between gononhcea and chancroid as non-infective and syphilis as
distinctly iafective in its character holds good in the great major-
ity of cases. A further study of these quasi-infective varieties of
gonorrhoea and chancroid must undoubtedly throw light upon the
physiological classification of pathogenic organisms. These three
affections are generally acquired as the result of impure sexual
intercourse ; but there are other methods of contagion, as, for
example, when the accoucheur is poisoned whilst delivering a syphi-
litic woman, the surgeon when operating on a syphilitic patient. An
individual may be attacked by any one or any two of the three, or
by all of them at once, as the result of one and the same connexion ;
but they do not show themselves at the same time ; in other words,
they have different stages of incubation. , In gonorrhoea the disease
appears very rapidly, so also in chancroid, the first symptoms com-
mencing as a rale three or four days after inoculation. It is very
different, however, with syphilis. Here the period of incubation
is one rather of weeks, the average length being twenty-eight days,
though it may vary from one week to eight. The length of the
period of incubation, therefore, is the great primary diagnostic in
the case of syphilis.
Syphilis is an infective fever, and its life history may be best 3J7
considered by comparing it with vaccinia. A child is vaccinated
on the arm with vaccine lymph. For the first two or three days
nothing is observed ; but on the fourth day redness appears, and by
the eighth day a characteristic vaccine vesicle is formed, which
bursts and frees a discharge, which dries and forms a scab. If on
the eighth day the clear lymph in the vesicle is introduced at
another point in the child's skin, no characteristic local effect
follows. The system is protected by the previous inoculation ;
this protection will last for some y«ars, and in certain cases for
the rest of the patient's life. We have here, then, exposure to a
poison, its introduction locally, a period of incubation, a charac-
teristic local appearance at the seat of inoculation, a change iu
the constitution of the individual, and protection from another
attack for a variable period. So with syphilis. The syphilitic
poison is introduced at the seat of an accidental abrasion either on
the genital organs or on any part of the surface of the body. The
poison lies quiescent for a variable period. The average period is
four weeks. A characteristic cartilaginous hardness appears at the
seat of inoculation. If this is irritated in any way, an ulceration
takes place ; but ulceration is an accident, not an essential. From
the primary seat the system generally is infected. The virus is
multiplied locally and, passing along the lymphatic vessels, attacks
the nearest chain of lymphatic glands. If the original sore is in
the genital organs, the glands in the groin are first attacked ; if iu
the hand, the gland above the inner condyle of the humerus ; if on
the lip, the gland in front of the angle of the jaw. The affected
glands are indurated and painless; they may become inflamed, just
as the primary lesion may ulcerate; but the inflammation is an acci-
dent, not an essential. From the primary glands the mischief will
affect the whole glandular system. The body generally is so altered
that various skin eruptions, often symmetrical, break out. Any
irritation of the mucous membrane is followed by superficial ulcer-
ations, and in the later stages of the disease skin eruptions, pustular
and tubercular in type, appear, and in weakly people in severe
cases, or in cases that have not been properly treated by the surgeon,
syphUitic deposits termed gummcda are formed. These, if irritated,
break down and give rise to deep-seated xJcerations. Gummata
" may attack the different organs in the body ; the muscles, liver,
and brain are the favourite sites. Their presence interferes with
the functions of the organs, and, if the organ affected is one
functionally important iu the economy, may cause death. The
individual is as a general rule protected against a second attack,
although there have been rare cases recorded in which individuals
have been attacked a second time.
Syphilis is treated by many surgeons by giving careful attention Trei
to the general health, to diet and regimen and tonics, by placing meii
the patient in the most favourable hygienic circumstances, in the sypl
belief that it runs a natural course and has a tendency to natural
cure. Special svmptoms are treated as they arise. Other surgeons
administer small doses of mercury, in the form of grey powder,
iodide of mercury, or corrosive sublimate. If the physiological
DISEASES.]
SURGERY
687
effects of mercury arc ODSCTVcd— tenderness or the gums and a
metallic' taste in the moutli — this treatment is desisted from and
io<iide of potassium is administered, mercury being giveu again
>r>'ien its physiological sj-mptoms have disappeared. Oleate of mcr-
curj- or mercurial ointment, or mercury ■witn lanoline, is applied to
the primary lesion and rubbed in over the enlarged glands. This is
continued for six months or a year. In the later stages of the com-
plaint iodide of potassium is the main remedy used. There are
therefore two distinct methods of treating syphilis, — the non-mer-
curial and the mercurial. Both methods have bee i extensively tried
by the present writer, and he beUeves that the meicurial is infinitely
preferable to the non- mercurial method. Recent investigations
point to the value of corrosive sublimate as a ger nicide, and in all
probability the good results which follow saturation of the system
with mercury are to be explained in this way. It is said by the
non-mercurialists that the administration of mercury masks the
sjrmptoms. There can be no doubt that the syniptonls often appear
after the mercury is stopped, but in a modified form, and theie is
no evidence that the mercurial treatment prolongs the disease.
Syphilis has a tendency to natural cure, like all the continued fevers,
and along with the administration of mercury careful hygienic treat-
ment must receive particular attention, and often in weakly un-
bealthy people a long sea voyage is of great value. Any means
svhich causes a free action of the skin, as, for instance, by periodic
visits to thermal baths, is of great assistance in eliminating the
poison.
Syphilis as commonly met with nowadays is not of so severe a
type as it formerly was. One reason often given for this is that
mercury was formerly always pushed until its full physiological
effects were observed, and that the lowering of the patient's con-
stitution by this severe treatment aggravated the primary com-
plaint. There may be some truth in this explanation ; but the
principal reason in all probability is that the syphilitic organism
<loes not now find so suitable a nidus or soil for its growth and
development as it once did. Syphilis in the United Kingdom at
the present moment is in the stage of an epidemic in its decline.
This may be looked on as a startling statement ; but it is true of
syphilis as of all infective diseases. A time must come when the
Eoil is pri-cticiUy worn out, when it becomes so poor that the organ-
ism grows only in a stunted form, producing a mild disease, till
in time it ceases to grow altogether. It is not asserted that it will
necessarily dio out, because after lying fallow for a time the soil
may recover its power and the disease be revived in a more virulent
form, analogous to the lujturiant crop which follows after a period
of fallow. SyphUis can be conveyed by the discharge from any
syphilitic lesion occurring within two years after the commence-
ment of the complaint. It cannot bo conveyed by the normal
sec.etious of the syphilitic person except in the case of the semen,
wiiich, impregnating the ovum in the female, causes the fcctus to
be syphili'iic. Syphilization of the fcetus is followed by syphiliza-
tion of the mother. The blood of a syphilitic person is infectious
for two years after the commencement of the attack. Pure vaccine
lymph cannot convey syphilis ; if, however, it is mixed with blood
it may convey it. No person who has had syphilis should marry
until he has been entirely free from the complaint for two, or better
itill for three, years. If a perso;i marries before this time pregnancy
^fcatly increases the risk to th( mother. 'If there is any suspicion
of sj-phUis the mother should take mercury during the period of
pregnancy. It is interesting to note how time has a modifying
influence in a case of repeated pregnancies occurring in a syphilitic
•woman. At first there may be miscarriage in the early stage of
pregnancy ; after a time abortions in the later stage ; there may
then be a still-born child ; then one bom alive but syphilitic ; then
a child born apparently healthy but soon becoming syphilitic ; and
ultimately a healthy child is born and remains healthy, showing
no evidence of syphilitic disease. The disease has worn itself out.
The relation of apparently healthy people born of syphilitic parents
to syphilis acquired during the course of their life may explain
those rcmarkatlo cases of escape from syphilitic infection which
constantly come under the observation of the surgeon.
6. Tumours.^
As the result of a local irritation an acute inflammatory swelling
may apjjcar. If the irritant is of a severe tj-pe the result may be
local death. An abscess may form ; and, after the pus lias escaped
or has been evacuated, and after the original cause of the irritation
lins subsided, the swelling may disappear and the parts be restored
to a condition nearly allied to the normal. If the irritant, however,
is slight and its action prolonged, a chronic inllanimatory swelling
of the part may result. Although in many cases with appropriate
'.rcatmcnt the induration disaiipears, in other cases it persists (luring
the life of the individual. The indurated moss in its microscopic
characters closely resembles the original anatomical characteristics
of tlie part affected. \V\\en, for cxain|de, an organ like a gland is
the seat of a chronic irritation a general increase in its size takes
place. A hypertrophy or oveigrowtli has occurred, but as a rule
.1 nompaie P*TnoLoov, vol. xvUL p. 307 »«.
the hypertrophied gland is only altored in 6126 ; it retains its general
shape and functional activity. Occasionally the hypertrophic area
is localized, and to a great extent separable from the original gland
by a more or less distinct capsule. In the mammary gland, for
example, a local hjTjertroiiliy may occur, the microscopic characters
of which resemble imperfect gland tissue. Between this conditioa
and an adenoid or glandular tumour of the mamma no distinct line
of demarcation can be drawn, and the juobability is that the ade-
nomatous tumour of the mamma is caused by local irritation. It may
be the immediate outcome of a misdirecteil or excessive functional
activity. The great practical dilfereuce, however, between it and
true hypertrophy is tills, that it can only be removed by opera-
tion. The adenomatous tumour closely resembles in some of ita
microscopic characters one of the varieties of epithelioma, of which
an increase in the columnar epithelium lining tlie acini in the gland
is the main characteristic. This tumour is not a simple tumour
like the true adcuoma ; it does not grow slowly ; it is not encap-
sulated ; the cellular elements in it not only invade the surrounding
tissues but tend to pass into the Ij-mphatic vessels and reach the
lymphatic glands in the arm-pit, where they grow and form second-
ary tumours similar in microscopic characters to the original growth.
From these secondary foci a further invasion may take place, and
the cell elements may reach the blood-stream and be caught in the
capillaries, forming there new growths, till the patient dies from
the general implication of the whole system. This form of tumour
has been termed a malignant adenoma. While it has originally the
microscopic characters of a simple adenoma, if we look to its life
history we have in it an excellent example of a malignant tumour.
Microscopically it Is a stepping-stone between the simple and the
malignant type of tumour ; clinically it is characteristically malig-
nant. The mammary gland is composed of glandular tissue and
fibrous tissue. A hyperplasia of the fibrous tissue may occur in
consequence of an excessive irritation of the glandular tissue, or
apparently a primary increase in the fibroiis tissue may occur locally,
giving rise to a simple fibrous tvimour of the mamma, of which fully
developed fibrous tissue is the microscopic characteristic. This
overgrowth may become encapsulated and give rise to no symptoms
except those reifeiable to its gradual increase in size, and after the
gland in whicli it lies has fulfilled its life history it may stop
growing, degenerate, and decay. In the uterus, e.g., those fibrous
tumours which occur after the time of child-bearing is past, after
the uterus has fulfilled its destiny, cease to give any further trouble
and are only inconvenient in consequence of their size. Fibrous
tissue in the early stages of its development is largely composed of
cell elements, and there are tumours, e.g., in connexion with the
mamma, which have their prototype in the undeveloped or cellular
stage of fibrous tissue. These tumours also are essentially malignant.
They grow rapidly, and are richly supplied with thin-walled blood-
vessels ; the elements of the tumour pass directly into the blood-
stream, and reach the capillaries, where they are arrested and where
secondary growths like the original growth in their anatomical
characteristics are formed, causing the death of the patient.
In what has just been said it will be seen that there Is no distinct
line of demarcation between the infl.immatory swelling and the
hypertrophy, between the hj-pcrtrophy and tho tumour proper,
between the simple and tho malignant tumour. Tho local irrita-
tion can be traced in the case of the inflammatory swelling and the
hypertrophy, and it is highly probablo that both tho simple and
tho malignant tumour are also due to local irritation. It must,
however, be acknowledged that it cannot always bo traced. If
the malignant tumour is not due to local irritation, but to a general
dyscrasia or peculiarity of the patient, the surgeon has slight grounds
for recommending its removal. If, however, he believes that all
tumcurs are evidences of local irritation, he is fully justified iu
recommending their early and complete removal — in the case of the
malignant tumours before they have timj to spread by the lymphatio
or blood-stream to distant parts, in tho case of simple tumours ucfore
they have assumed characteristics of malignancy, as these tumours
sometimes do. The mammary gland has been taken as an example
of an organ in which tumours frequently occur. Tho reason for
this frequency, if we believe in local irritation as a cause of tumour-
growth, is not far to seek : from tho time of puberty to the time
when it terminates its functional activity this gland is in a constant
state of vascular unrest and fimctional change. Hotli forms of tu-
mour are met with in all the organs and tissues of tho body. Simple
tumours are generally composed of fully developed tissue, similar
to tho tissue in which they lie, tho simple fatty tumour occurring
in connexion with fatty tissue, tho simple fibrous tumour in con-
nexion with fibrous tinsue, tho osseous tumour in connexion with
bone. The malignant tumour, on the other hand, is gouor.illy
formed of undevelojicd tissue which has not yet fulfilled Its destiny,
which ia not only misplaced in situation but in time. Tho carti-
laginous tumour has its prototype in cartilage, for that which covers
the ends of tho long bones and enters into tho formation of a joint
is a fully developed tissile. The true prototyno of tho cartilaginoua
tumour is not, however, fully developed cartilage, but one or other
of those forms of cartilage which, as regards their devclopmcntil
688
S U K G E R Y
[PEACnCE.
■nosition, are. intermediate between fibrous tissue and bone, and there-
lore the cartilaginous tumour has frequently a life history more
closely allied to the malignant than to the simple type of tumour
formation , ,-a. i. r
Ko attempt can here be made to classify the different forms of
tnmoiir. The surgeon at the bedside meets with tumours as living
parasitic formations. He studies their life history ; he observes
their birth, their growth, their peculiarit-es, and their tendencfes ;
he naturally attempts to classify them from a study of their physio-
logical or clinical aspects. The patholof^st, on the other hand,
examines the tumour after it is removed ; he studies it as it appears
to the naked eye and under the microscope ; and he attempts to
classify, tumours from an anatomical standpoint. Within recent
years the pathologist's classification, associated with a recognition
of the developmental division of the human embryo into different
layers, has become the favourite ; but it is hoped that, as science
advances, the increase of clinical knowledge, assisted by microscopic
and embryological research, will make a physiological classification
a reality.
rV. Opeeatite Suegeey.
Rauge of TVitliin recent years the main advance in surgery has
(urgicai ijggQ fjom the scientific side, due to increased precision in
tions'' physiological knowledge and a careful study of the relation
of organisms to various diseased conditions. And •with
this progress operative skill, in many directions previously
unthought of, has kept pace. Cranial operative surgery
has advanced as the motor areas on the surface of the
brain have -been localized with greater precision. The ex-
perimental physiologist has done his part ; the clinical
observer is no\v doing his. Cranial surgery necessitates
special notice. In the thoracic cavity also diseased con-
ditions are now relieved by surgical operations. The
greatest advance of all, Lowever, is in connexion with the
abdominal cavity. Under this head the work of the last
thirty years requires special notice. The peritoneum was
at one time considered a closed book to the operator; now
all is changed, and abdominal surgery has become one of
the most important branches of operative work. Joints in
a state of inflammation are also now freely opened and
tension is relieved. With the relief of tension the in-
flammatory process subsides and the joint recovers. The
excision of diseased joints has also become part of the
everyday work of the surgeon. Cancerous affections — using
the term in a clinical sense — of the tongue, rectum, and
larynx are now treated by excision of these organs. But
it is still a question in what cases the operation prolongs
life, and what cases are specially suited for operation.
WhUe greater latitude has been given to surgical interfer-
ence with the dlffererit cavities of the body, operations upon
the limbs have been restricted in consequence -of the ac-
ceptance of Lister's views with regard to wound treatment.
Llany limbs upon which formerly amputation was per-
formed, as, for example, in the case of compound fractures,
Conser- are now saved. The term " conservative surgery," which
native formerly had reference to the excision of a diseased joint
"ui^ry- instead of amputation of the affected limb, has now a
wider meaning, and covers not only the different excisions
which have taken the place of amputation but also those
cases in which a limb is saved by careful antiseptic man-
agement after severe injury. At one time, perhaps, in the
early stages of antiseptic wound treatment the brilliancy
of the results obtained by these means, and the immunity
which resulted from the prevention of blood-poisoning, en-
couraged surgeons to save a limb which, when the wound
was healed, was not really useful. An upper limb saved,
however ineflScient, is better than any artificial substitute,
and every endeavour in the direction of conservation should
be made. Conservation in the case of a lower limb, on the
other hand, may be carried too far. Unless the saved limb
can support the weight of the body, it is far better to per-
form amputation, because a satisfactory artificial substitute
can be found to take the place of the lower extremity. In
performing amputation on a lovrer lirab every endeavour
should be made to obtain a stump which will bear, in part
at any rate, the weight of the patient's body. Since the
introduction of anaesthetics rapidity in performing an
amputation is not essential. Flaps can be carefully made ;
time can be taken to shape them; and they can be so
arranged that the resulting cicatrix wili not be opposite
the sawn extremity of the bone. In order to obtain such
flaps the surgeon is justified in sacrificing to some extent
the length of the limb, if by' so doing he can leave a
mobile and painless stump on which an artificial limb can
be comfortably fitted. But this does not hold good to the
same extent for an upper limb. The pressure on the ex-
tremity is not so great, and the longer the stump the more
easily can an artificial substitute be fitted on. As a result
also of Lister's teaching operative procedure for the cure
of various deformities, such as knock -knee, rickets, and
club-foot, in which the bones affected are freely attacked,
has done much to relieve unsightly deformity and increase
the usefulness of the individual. In all operations absorb-
able catgut ligatures for the cut vessels have since about
1861 taken the place of silk, which had to come away by ul-
ceration,— a destructive process antagonistic to rapid heal-
ing. Greater care is taken to save blood by emptying the part
to be operated on before beginning the operation. Greater
care is also taken to tie all bleeding points, so as to prevent
reactionary hsemorrhage and the escape of blood between
the surfaces of the wound, whereby healing is retarded.
Free drainage by india-rubber and glass tubing, by absorb-
able tubes made of decalcified bone, by skeins of catgut
acting by capillarity — all the outcome of an understanding
of the local irritation and constitutional fever caused by
tension — have done more than anything else to enable the
surgeon to attain his triple object, — painlessness, rapidity,
and safety in the healing of a wound. Lastly, the clear
understanding of the term " antiseptic " in its fullest mean-
ing, the knowledge of the power which the unirritated
and healthy tissues have as germicidal agents, and the
introduction of various antiseptic or rather antitheric sub-
stances, some of which destroy, some of which paralyse,
those lowly organisms whose power for evil in an un-
healthy tissue or an injured part is so great, contribute
towards the same great end. By these means operations
are to a great extent relieved of their dangers, and by
anaesthesia, which prevents pain and suffering, they are
robbed of their terrors. (j. c.)
1. Cranial.
The necessity for setting apart a distinct section of this article to
deal separately with the region of the head does not depend upon
any specialization in the principles of treatment ijeculiar to that
region. The general laws of surgipal procedure hojd good here as
elsewhere throughout the body ; but they have to be exemplified
in relation to a region so separated from others in its architectural
and functional peculiarities as to call for special record and delinea-
tion. The surgeon has to deal with a most intricate series of con-
siderations— anatomical, physiological, and psychic — in devising
suitable treatment for abnormal conditions in this region ; the inter-
relation of cranial tissues and organs, their capital importance in
the physical economy, and the position of some of them as the sub-
strata of mental activities render any surgical interference a matter
of great delicacy and grave anxiety. So much is this the case
that it has been left for the most daring and the most modem
surgeons to prove that this is a region to which ordinary surgical
rules may properly apply ; and hence what mustbe here recorded
is largely matter of quite recent history and to a large extent af
variance with the doctrine of former epochs. The function of the
cranium as a protective agent for the brain and the organs of
special sense is strikingly shown by its architectural design. The
proper discharge of this function is of paramount importance from
the economic value of the cranial contents ; and the demands upon
it are the more exacting from the extreme delicacy of physical
structure and the unstable physiological equilibrium present in
the brain. Clothed externally by the densely resisting textm-es
of the scalp, further protected by a layer of heat-deflecting hair,
the cranium itself consists of a firmly welded bony casket of ovoid
ferm, maintained in its balanced position upon the upright spine
CnAlOAJLj
SURGERY
G89
column by a series of ligamentous and muscular banJs. There
is Oms protection against the sun's rays and a general mob.hty
that provides for the avoidance of impending blows But tlie
cranium has chiefly to receive and annul transmitted physical
"brSs, tlie result either of blows upon the head or of those
■iars and oscillations, incidental to bodily movements, which wou d
'interfere ereatly with the functions of the brain did they actually
reach it The function of the cranium in this resnect has been
fiiUv described by Hilton, who shows tliat special bony ndges
are present in the skull which arrest vibrations and divert them
into channels where their action is no longer deleterious. Three
series of such buttresses descend from the vault to the base ol the
skull where they converge in the region of the sella turcica at a
point termed by Felizet "the centre of resistance, and where the
teominations of the ridges come into immediate contact with the
cartilage of the foramen lacerum medium or the lake ot cerebro-
spinal fluid which surrounds the anterior and postenor cliiioid pro-
cesses The transmitted vibrations are thus annulled by transler-
ence to a liquid or a soft solid medium^ and lose all further power
In addition to the special mechanism which mitigates the etlect ol
considerable shocks and renders slight ones ordinarily imperceptible,
here is a general elasticity of the skull which enables it to with-
stand great violence without material injury and so enhances its
protective power. This elasticftv is not uniformly present, but is
much more developed in the bell-like vault than in the region of
the base. The osseous texture also is much more brittle in the
latter locality. When, therefore, such severe shocks are comniuni-
catod to the skull as overcome its elasticity and its power of resist-
ance, the fracture which ensues is found as a rule to involve the
base'much more seriously than the vault. . .
if These physical qualities are of great importance as giving an
a. index of the relative resisting powers of different parts of the skull,
and as affording data that may assist .in determining the position
of a fracture from a study of the forces which caused it. Of such
forces those that are closely circumscribed in their area of appli-
cation produce strictly local effects, whilst diffuse blows produce
their most marked effects at a distance from their point of applica-
tion. The former fact needs no illustration ; the latter has been
made the subject of numerous researches in relation to the usual
course of cranial fractures. From the results of these investigations
three difl'erent etiological laws have been educed— (1) Saucerotte s
law of contrccoup ; (2) Aran's law of radiation ; and, in special re-
lation to fiactures of the base of the skull, (3) Von Wahl s law of
parallel cleavage. In its special sphere each of these laws probably
holds true ; but the sphere of each is a limited one and is dependent
upon the local peculiarities of the skull already described The
r theory of contrecoup is that a force produces its maximum effect at
re- the opposite pole of the skull to the point of its application. That
this law can have no general bearing is shown by the numerous cases
in which the fracture bears no such relation to the force which causes
it In relation to a limited area of the vault, however, it appears
to hold true ; for isolated fractures of the base resulting from blows
upon the vault are on record, but as these are the only fractures
which this theory would explain, and as they are very rare, its range
f of action is very greatly curtailed. Aran's law of radiation is that,
ion starting from the point where the blow is received, a fissure traverses
' the walls of the skull in the direction of the base and spreads itself
ill that fossa of the base of the skull which corresponds to the part
of the vault that is struck Thus a difl'uso blow on the frontal
bone causes injury to the anterior fossa of the base, and blows upon
the parietals or occipital bone cause similar injury to the middle
or posterior fossa respectively. This law holds true of the great
maiority of fractures of the skull and will assist in localizing the
course of a fracture when the part of the skull Crst struck can bo
)f ■ recognized. But numerous cases of fractured base are on record
el in wTiich no fissure can be traced leading from the point first struck ;
iM and from a study of these Von Wahl has concluded that fractures
of the base, whether connected with fissured vault or isolated, are
always parallel to the direction of the force which caused them.
Thus blows upon the frontal and occipital regions cause longi-
tudinal fissures of the base, in the temporal region oblique fissures,
and in the mastoid region transverse fissures. An index of the
probable direction of a fracture is thus obtained by observing the
exact point of incidence of the blow which caused it, whether
other evidences of localized injury to the cranial contents bo
forthcoming or not. . .. r
The diagnosis of the presence of a fracture is often a matter ol
great difliculty, especially where the soft parts are still inUct, and
by their contused and swollen condition mask the true nature of
tl'if case. Apart from obvious external signs of injury, the following
symptoms should lead to the suspicion of a fracture :— bleeding
from the mouth, nose, or ears ; local ccchymoscs or lacerations, as
that of the mcmbrana tympaiii ; circumscribed haimorrhagcs, as
under the scalp or visceral conjunctiva ; interference with the func-
tions of Ihe biain or special sense-organs, as aphasia, motor spasms
or paralyses, blindness, deafness, an altered condition of the respira-
tion or the pupils, slight unconsciousness or profound stupor
immediate risks to life arc from shock and compression, tlie latter
due to depressed bony fi.agments or effused blood. The treatment
of shock has already been alluded to (p. 680 above) ; that of com-
pression consists in the early relief of pressure by tieiihining, with
elevation of the depressed fragments and removal of the blood-clots,
if the symptoms are advancing. These symptoms are increasing
stupor, stertorous respiration (Chcyne-Stokes breathing), relaxation
of sphincters, — the condition passing on to complete coma. In
cases where pressure symptoms are not urgent (especially in young
patients with elastic skulls) and in cases where no such symptoms
are present, expectant treatment should be cmyiloycd, — complete
rest, local cooling applications, constantly applied, the exclusion of
all stimuli to the special sense-organs or to the attention, and a
careful watch for further symptoms. Should symptoms of compres-
sion appear and advance, or should slight symjitoms already present
become aggravated, immediate operative interference for the relief
of pressure as above indicated must be resorted to, and in operat-
ing in this region !t must be remembered that strict antiseptic pre-
cautions aro essential, for in no region of the body— not excluding
even the peritoneal cavity— are the cfTecls of septic infection more
disnstious and at the same time so hopeless of remedy.
Having thus alluded to the physiology and surgery of the cranial opo-
envelope, it remains to consiilcr the corresponding aspects of the graphics,
cranial contents. The older theory of Flourens and Hertwig, that areas of
all parts of the brain are equally concerned in producing its aggregate brain.
activities, has been displaced by the more recent theory of tho
localization of function. This theory is supported by the results
of recent physiological and pathological investigations, tho former
carried on for the most part by Hitzig, Fritsch, and Ferrier, tho
latter by Broca and Jleynert. The practical outcome of these re-
searches—viz., an adaptation to the human brain of results obtained
iu that of the higher mammals, controlled by pathological observa-
tions on the human brain itself— is that the surface of the brain can
be mapped out into a series of topographical areas, each of \yhich
occupies a definite relationship to some well-defined function —
motor, sensory, or psychic— of the human economy. Of the areas
connected with psychic activity little is at present known ; they ■
are generally believed to occupy the frontal lobes of the brain. In Lo8alita»
the parietal region grouped around the fissure of Rolando are the tion of
cortical areas connected with motor functions in the extremities, lunotion.
and around the horizontal limb of the fissure of Sylvius are arranged
those concerned in general and special sensation. The results of
these researches confirm the views of Hughlings-Jackson, who has
conclusively demonstrated the cortical origin of those epileptiform
seizures in which the motor phenomena are limited to particular
groups of muscles. At the same time these results open a new field
of anatomical and surgical inquiry, with tho object of defining h hat
relation the cerebral convolutions bear to extern.al cranial land-
marks, and of showing that circumscribed cortical disease or injury
is capable of detection and relief. For practical purposes in the Relatio^
present state of our knowledge of cerebral physiology, the first of con-
part of the question limits itself to an exact delineation of the volutio*
position of the fissures of Rolando and Sylvius in relation to well- to sur-,
known cranial landmarks. In regard to tho position of the former face of
several researches have been made, and its upper extremity has head.
been localized at a point 2 inches behind the coronal suture in
the mesial line by Broca, Turner, and Fere. For the purpose of
its exact determination in the living subject, where the lino of the
coronal suture cannot always be detected, measurements have been
made and formula for its localization devised by Giacomim, Lucas-
Championniire, Hare, and Reid (see the literature cited below).
The commencement of the fissure of Sylvius is situated IJ inches
behind the external angular iiroccss of the frontal bone.
As on outcome of these additions to our knowledge of accurate Trephm-
facts, a new branch of surgical procedure is now firmly established ing for
and already sufiicieiitly supported by successful results, viz., trcphm- cortical
ing for tho relief of cortical disease. Encouraging cases liavodise«|)
occurred in the bands of Hughes Bennett and Godlee, Fraser and
Chicne, and Victor Ilor-sley. The last-named presented to the
British Jledical Association meeting in 1886 three patients re leved
by this operation from cortical lesions. As a result of w^ido ex-
perience in operating upon apes and upon human beings, Mr Horslcy
accentuates the importance of employing the following precautiona
in operative interference :— (1) thorough cleansing and disinfection
of the scalp; (2) the use of chloroform as an antithetic, morphia
having been previously given to reduce cerebral congestion and
to obviate excessive haimorrhago during the operation ; (J) strict
antiseijtic precautions; (4) a semilunar incision through the soil
parts ; (5) the uso of largo trephines ; (G) Slacewen s method ol
replacing tho bone in small fragments carefully purified. Tho
occurrence of hernia cerebri signifies n failure in the antiseptic pre-
cautions, and a primary union of tho intcgunicnU is a matter ol
tho most extreme importance. In removing tho tumour or scar-
tissue tho knife is preferable to the tliermo-cautcry. {A. w. "-J
Die
1 /.i
Cooper,
(,^a^,«o/C^»nta^S"r!7<n^-Pcreev»I roll, ;..J..rlMo/l»« WMd: filr A.l^^
r, Ucl. OK Suriicr^ (Tyn;«), vol. I. ; Sir D. Urodlc, A/c<l. Uy. fmn,.. \ot,
o> --Art
690
S U K G E E Y
2. Thoracic.
Purulent collections in the pericardium and pleural sacs may be
treated as ordinary abscesses by incision. In the case of the pleural
cavity the pus may be evacuated through an opening made in the
axillary line at the seventh costal interspace ; but it is quite possible
to empty it thoroughly at the fiith. A drainage-tube is inserted,
protected by a broad flange, that it may not slip into the cavity,
and strict asepsis should be secured. Should sepsis occur, the
wound should be washed out, ' and a counter-opening made if
necessary. _ As the lung, however, freauently will not expand, and
a large cavity is therefore left to heal by granulation, with little
chance of it ever getting filled up, surgeons have excised portions
of the ribs in order to bring about a collapse of the chest wall and
thus ensure obliteration of the cavity. The second, third, fourth,
6fth, and sixth ribs have been partially removed, together with a
portion of the clavicle. It is better in young people to remove the
periosteum also. Some surgeons cut away the thickened pleura as
well. The possibility of opening Into the pleural sacs and peri-
cardium for the removal of tumours has been demonstrated by Kbnig
and Kuster, who have reported cases where growths in connexion
with the sternum and ribs were successfully removed. Special care
was taken that as little air as possible should gain access to the
pleural cavities. Attempts have also been made to tap and wash
out vomicae in the lung, but as yet operative interference in such
instances is not fully established.
[OPEBATIVK.
3. Abdominal.
_ Modem surgery has made its greatest advance and has achieved
Its most signal triumphs in connexion with operations performed
in those cavities of the body which are lined by a synovial or serous
membrane. The older surgeons did not dare to systematically
attack the joints and the cranial, thoracic, and abdominal cavities;
but the surgeon of to-day perfonns the most daring operations here
with confidence, and is rewarded with a success which at first sight
appears almost marvellous. The timid extraperitoneal manipula-
tions of former days made use of in the treatment of hernia and
kidney disease and in the formation of artificial anus, have now
given way to systematic intraperitoneal modes of treatment, where-
by we aim at the radical cure of hernia and bring disease affecting
any of the abdominal viscera directly under our control. We have
t'bri- to consider the conditions under which wound treatment of the
toneal peritoneum is placed, and in what respect this portion of the human
wound framework reacts up^n injuries as compared with the general be-
ceat- haviour. It is generally acknowledged that rest in the surgical
majrt. sense, the factor necessary for healthy Vound closure, is obtained
by a condition of asepsis and fixation. Moreover, it is generally
granted that tension as a condition of unrest is dangerous not so
much m itself as in the character of the material that gives rise to
tension ; hence the extravasated serum and blood in a case of simple
fiTicture give nse to compararively little disturbance. The presence
of ascites need not lead to fever. But once let sepsis gain entrance
and the fermentmg exudate is resented by the organism ; violent
attempts to throw it off are made ; and forms of blood-poisoning
more or less severe and variable ensue. In a severe injury of the
extremities, say a compound fracture, the effused serum and blood-
clot are not readily removed by the, damaged lymphatic system
and, when that does act, sepsis having abeady occurred, the ah- .
sorption of the putrid fluid does much harm. Fortunately the
open character of the wound may aUow the foetid discharge to
escape. In any case, the surgeon ensures a good result when he
makes use of splints, drainage, and antiseprics. He brings about
local fixation, removes the excessive exudation, and so relieves the
lymphatics and prevents sepsis. In the case of a penetrating abdo-
™™'''7°"'' ' "'" *'"' healthy peritoneum is injured, we have some-
what different ccnditicns, mainly varying in degree. It must ev»r
be borne in mind that here we open into a huge lymph-sac The
peritoneum consists of a sheet of vascular and Ijonphatio network
covered with epitheUum and provided with stomata. It is easily
mjured, and then rapid effusion ensues. Like most vascular struc-
tures, however, it heals quickly with favourable surroundincrs and
the source of irritation having been removed, it speedily retlirns to
the normal. In comparison with the large absorbing surface the
injured portion is but small, and the effusion thrown out at the
seat of injury may readily enough be absorbed by the remainder of
So'/ rf^'"^°' ^^-T^f " "f Cranium ■ Felizet, Eccherchts anat. et exper. sur les
fraa. du cra«f 18,3 ; Aran, Arch. Gin. de Med., 4U. ser., vol. vi. p. 180 • &uce7ott7
Scbadflbasis," m Voll-rmnn:s Series, Nn. 228 ; Flnurens. Ie.i m-nryH;.f.\^i LTrZj
tu,nsdu SvsUr,>^Ner^■e,^ Pari=. 1824;' Hitzig Ul^'S:^ fnlfelEt k„d Du^Bo s
Reyi^iond s Archiv, 1870; Bitzig, " Ueber den heutigeu Stand der Frage von de?
1?^ and^'^^rij™'' ™» '"•• l^'S: H^SWi-g^-Jxckson, Lend. Hos^: Pep.]
dribraie, 1876; Turner, "Relations of Convolutions to Sliull Ss^Id " Tn
f^^s"- iTifrhf^""- '«'3: Giacomini, Topografia dellatflradffofujo,
fr^eJ !S??H,i ?'"°"'r''/'' i'-gf™"™ (?««« r-^r l"! localisations cerl
iSrU «!• n i °r- ^"'"- '""' '^''"^- January 1884; Reid, Lancet vol ii
1884, p. 539 ; Hughes Bennett and Godlee, BrU. Med. Jou-n May 1883 -{^(-tor
Horsley, Brit. Med. Jmim.. vol. ii.. 188S. p. 670 '
the healthy sac. So long as the rate of absorption equals that „l
effusion tension cannot exist. If linwever tbi n,f„;^ f *i, a °\
be of importance, it is evident tha nowhere i^'^thebodv is thl' ""*
marked than in the case of the peritoneSm and lieSove a 1 o^her
parts must we preserve sti-ict aiepsis. This mav be t,?no/- ■
draws off from the pouch of Douglas anv excess of flnfH fl,,^ ^
as the result of injury, untd Bueh timeTtheTr ton urn [tsITf W
ttTSwi'^t^-^r^^^
moderate septic inoculation, it is evident that the rTpid cCe of
fluid may prove mimical to the development of septic ferments
and the contact o healthy tissue will finally render mposs™e the
existence of organisms. The presence, however, of any accumula
nTtm'pttwr ?'*' P-^^^^^-'^ted by the TiLnerand
OTCV ou??o »L^^ ,P'"*!?"'' ""^y '^* "'^t'^^ collection, or even
previous to any local reaction septic absorption may prove fatal Or
Zabo7f ' ^f ''"' peritonitis may kill'^the patient. (3) From
he to the Ih ™°°'' T.^^ applicable the antiseptic system muS
tion tl^fn '?'/?'^,*^' '?<"* ='S°^1 ="'=<'''«« hascro^™ed atten-
tion to matters of detail m this respect. By means of antiseptics
.we can securely close the abdomen,'^resting assured that the peri-
oneum is perfectly capable of cariying off effusions due to our
Se &:; t2''' "^ ^"^i that ooziSg may complicate matt^^'
the drainage-tube can in addition be employed, but the necessit^
iv lon^au'"'"" '''' ^^')"^ ^ '^' ope^ratL acquires expeenc^
ana It 13 well that specialists reached a high standard of success
wTk %'"^°P*r 5 the antiseptic system, since various S
have been formulated, aU of which, however are of minor import!
fr"m Z^Zfj^'M""' r ^''' ^\^ •" ^ew,_that of Ts^pds
irom nrst to last. The utmost care should be taken to ascertain
Ire' El t^^I '°?'"^'°" "' *''' P*«^°*' *° ^- '^^t tbe^dSeTs
of the c^^e' ""i^^f '^^t an anesthetic suitable to the requirements
oLr.L. M , tf'^P^'^tire of the room, the clothSig during
h™bn.fP dexterous manipulation, and preventive! against
hemorrhage require the utinost att;ention. The patient shoSld be
prepared by having had low diet and genUe pur|atives for a few
aays pnor to surgical interference, so that rest of the intestiLa"
CwS Lt / ''^.'^'^.^'l- ^^ a material for ligature fine siS
Chinese twist, of various sizes, may be employed. It must be care
^erC'^^fr'^ ^^r^^^^S' ^''^ ^ ^^^y P^-erved pure iTa fiv^
per cent solution of carbolic acid. The ends should Ilways be cut
short. It possesses certain advantages over catgut.
tl,« Ji^Uf T^ ^^ field of abdominal surgery ^e must stiidy shortly
the methods and results gained by ovariotomy, removal of thi
uterme appendages (ovaries, Battey; tubes. Talt), hysterectomy
myotomy, removal of fibroid tumours of the uterus, intrS
tonea operations on the kidney, Hver, spleen, intestinal tract.
F^-llt^4 T^^'^VP^ Tf ' ''""denum, small and large infesting
fo^l,^;^, i°5'''°"''^Xs^T'° *° "^^ extraperitonell operations
for sarcoma and disease of the kidney and intestine.
from 1701, the date when Houston of Carluke, Lanarkshire
earned out his successful partial extirpation, progress was arrested
for some time, although t£e Hunters (1780) indicSted the practT(^
bility of the operation. In 1809 Ephraim M'Dowell of Kentucky
inspired by the lectures of John Bell, his teacher in Edinburgh, per-
lij^^ fr^"°*TT'''°'l'^''°*""^g '° operate witii succesf estab-
lished the possibility of surgical interference, and was followed in
the Umted States by many others. The cases brought forward
by Lizars of Edinburgh were not sufl5ciently encouraein<r • the
Zl'^ v^tyi^^, «"??* opposition ; and it was not untif Clay,
Spencer Wells, Baker Brown, and Keith began work thafthe prol
cedure was placed on a firm basis and regarded as justifiable. Im-
proved methods were introduced, and surgeons vied with one another
in obtaining good results, untU by the introduction of the antiseptic
system of tieatmg wounds this operation, formeriy regarded as one
ot the most grave and anxious in the domain of surgery, has come
to be attended with a lower mortality than any other of a major
character. We may now briefly outline the mode employed in
operating. The room .should-be weU heated, be free from draughts
have a good light, and above all a pure atmosphere. The patient
IS secured to a firm table and well protected with blankets. An-
esthesia having been obtained, the state of the bladder being known
and the urine drawn off if thought necessary, the surgeon purifies
the integument with carbolic acid five per cent, solution, attending
speciaUy to the region of the umbUicus and pubcs, which latter
should be shaved. A large perforated waterproof sheet may be
spread over and secured to the body, through which the more pro-
minent part of the tumid abdomen protruding presents a localized
held for manipulation ; this also protects adjoining parts and ob-
viates unnecessary exposure. An incision 2 or 3 inches in length
in the Imea alba and midway between the umbilicus and the sym
physis pubis carries the surgeon down to tlio interval between'the
recti ; bleeding points arc seized with pressure forceps ; and by t
^DOMTNAL.]
SURGERY
691
further use of the knif% the subpentoneal fat w cxposeJ, the p"!-
toaeum divided, and its free edges seized with forceps. The operator
next introduces his finger and with the scissors enlarges the wound
downwards or upwards on the left sjde of the umbiUcus if neces-
sarv The entire hand is then introduced between the parietal
nentoneum and the tumour and swept around so as to ascertain the
condition of aefairs, and even to separate gently sUght adhesions.
A few sponges are next packed round the exposed tumour surlace,
which serve to keep the intestines and omentum out of the. way
and to retain any tumour content which may escape during tapping.
With a Urge trocar, aided perhaps by an exhausting jar, the con-
tents are drawn off, and, as the tumour collapses, its folds may
>e caught by forceps and the whole sac gradually puUed outside
he abdomen. The pedicle is clamped by strong forceps ; the
tumour is cut off; the stump of the pedicle is carefuUy ligatured,
he clamping forceps removed, the peritoneum carefuUy sponged
Jlut more e^peciaUy the pouch of Douglas, the ligature cut short,
Ind the pedicle dropped into the cavity of the abdomen. At this
Sta-n: the forceps and sponges are counted, a definite number being
alirays employed, and, their tale being perfect, the surgeon pro-
ceeds to ck)so the wound. For this purpose his needle traverses
the entire thickness of the parictesJrom peritoneum to skin ; the
stitches shoald be about one- third of an inch apart, and closer
apposition is gaiaed by secondary Eutures, which go through the
Integument alone. A dressing is now applied, and for the next
few days the patient gets little else than occasional spoonfuls of
hot water and milk,' unless brandy be necescarv, until she passes
wind, after which time the usual diet is gradually resumed. It is
necessary that the most precise precautions be taken against septic
infection. The sponges are steeped in a five per cent, solution of
carbolic acid, then dipped in boiling water, and squeezed dry
immediately before use. Should the contents of the cyst be too
Iriscid to run tlirougli tho trocai', the contents of the sac must be
Dulled out witli the hand. Adhesions to various organs must be
dealt with by careful separation and ligature. • Kents in the peri-
toneum should be stitched up with fins catgut, and some operators
also stitch over the stump of the pedicle, or bury. it in a bared
portion of the adjacent broad ligament, so that it may not contract
adhesions. Whiie the great majority of surgeons are at one as
regards the use of antiseptic precautions, they do not agree as to
the use of the spray. Many dispense with it altogether. Some
employ it in the room prior to the operation. A few surgeons also,
without availing themselves of the antiseptic system, appear to
obtain as good, if not better, results than their fellows. It inay
also be noted that the antiseptic in use by different operators varies,
<md that, while the pedicle is usually ligatured, Keith attaches
creat ■ importance to the clamp and cautery introduced by Baker
Brown. Tho drainage-tube is not now so '.Tequently employed as
formerly. The statistical results show an increasing success in the
case of every surgeon. Spencer Wells tells us that in his first five
years one patient in throe died, in his second and third five years
one in four, in his fourth five years one in five, in 1876-77 one
in ten, since tho introduction of antiseptics (complete Listerism),
1878-84, 10'9 per cent, — the last series showing a marked absence
of septic fatality. Keith in 1884 reported a mortality of 9'11 ; for-
merly, when using tho spray, he once had a successful consecutive
eerios of 80. Koeberle up to 1878 had performed 300 operations,
of which 231 had a favourable result. Of 300 patients operated on
oy Schroeder up to 1882 258 recovered ; in the last hundred cases
there were only 7 deaths. Other figures are — Knowsly Thornton,
423 cases, 40 deaths ; Tait, 405 cases, 33 deaths, and in 1885 (in-
cluding parovarian cysts) 139 cases, no deaths; 01shausen(1885),
293 cases, 27 deaths (in the last hundred only 4 deaths).
iv»l Removal of the uterine appendages, the ovaries and Fallopian
rine tubes, is performed for three distinct conditions— (1) for disease,
I- when the tubes arc tho seat of inflammatory changes and dis-
, tended, or when the ovaries are tho seat of cystic and cirrhotic
changes ; (2) for fibroid tumours, in which case by operating we
hasten the menopause and bring about involution ; (3) in cases
where dysmenorrlicca is wearing out and rendering useless the
life of the patient, and where less severe treatment is ineffectual.
Oophorectomy, by which we mean remo'^1 of the ovaries only,
was introduced by Battey of Georgia in 1872. It is now replaced
by the more extensive procedure of Lawson Tait, sapingooophor-
cctomy. Tho operation is sometimes followed by loss of sexual
feeling and has been said to unsex tho patient, hence strong objec-
tions have been urged against it. Tho patient and friends should
clearly understand tho object and results likely to bo gained.. Ac-
cording to Angus Macdogald, " as soon as wo arc certain that the
ovaries or tubes are distinctly diseased and aro not likely to yield
to our ordinary methods of treatment ... we aro bound to at
leiist inform our patient of tho possibility of relieving her by, o[x-ra-
tion. The operation presents greater difficulties and is associated
with a higher mortality than ovariotomy." Tho greatest care
must be taken in making tho initial incision for fear of wounding
the boweh Tlio organs are not uncomn;only deeply placed ana
have contracted adhesions. Every trace of ovjrian tissue should bo
removed along with the tubes and the ligatures must be carried
close up to the uterus. The stitches should be pla^ closer, Binc«
the tendency to hernia is greater.
In cases of fibroid tumour — myoma — the surgeon must be lai^ly
guided by the condition of the patient and the new growth as to
whether removal of the uterine appendages is sufficient. If it is
not and the patient is in such danger that the next period threatens
life, he had better proceed to hysterectomy or entire removal of
the uterus and appendages. When we consider the circumstances
under which this operation is performed, the weakly anwmic state
of the patient, the sue of the tumonr, and the rapidity with which
procedure should be conducted, we must regard hj-sterectoray as
one of the gravest in tho domain of surgery. There is, moreover, a
special danger which does not obtain tn ovariotomy, — the risk of
septic poisoning. Since we cut into the canal of tne uterus, it is
obvious that we open into a septic cavity, and it is impossible
merely to ligature and drop the pedicle, since by doing so we should
court failure. The surgeon, having made a way into the peritoneunv'
seizes and ligatures adhesions, projects the tumour tnrough the
wound, clamps the pedicle (cervix uteri), removes the tumour and
uterus, and closes the wound, leaving the clamped pedicle protrud-
ing. It is advisable to scoop out the septic central canal of the
pedicle and carefully to pare away surplus tissue, and as dressing
to have a plentiful supply of some potent non-irritating antiseptic
in contact with the stump. If we take care that the septic focus
is removed without coming in contact with its surroundings, if we
keep the stump aseptic and dry, there will be little fear of septic
fluid trickling down the side of the pedicle and causing septus,
peritonitis, or blood-poisoning. Attempts have been made, by care-
ful disinfection of the stump, paring its centre, careful ligature, and
stitching its raw surfaces together, to treat the pedicle by dropping
it into the abdomen as in ovariotomy, but as yet with no marked
success. The results of hysterectomy in the hands of Keith (SS
cases, 3 deaths, in 1885) stand unrivafled. Similar principles guide
the performance of ca^sarean section and Porro's operation.
Affections of the liver and gall-bladdef have also been treated
by laparotomy. In the latter case an incision is made over the
swelling, and the gall-bladder, having been exposed, may be removed
or explored, gall-stones cleared out, the walls stitched to the side:
of the abdominal wound, and a drainage-tube inserted as occasiot
requires.- The spleen has also been attacked. In removal of tht
entire organ special care must be taken that none of the larger veins
give way during mani_pulation. Most careful ligation and sub-
division of the pedicle is requisite. In recent years the surgery of
the kidney has made gigantic strides. There are three modes of
reaching the organ, each of proportionate value according to thai
nature of the case. (1) From the lumbar region. In this way
we may open abscesses, remove calculi, and even extirpate if tho
kidney be not enlarged. Increased room may be obtained by re-
moving the twelfth rib. By this method we gain sufficient and
dependent drainage and we need not open the peritoneum. (2) Aa
in ordinary laparotomy, making an incision in the middle line.
This admits ot our examining both organs and to a large extent
determining the condition of each. Wo get free access and can
more readily treat the pedicle of vessels and the ureter. We open
into the peritoneal cavity and again divide the peritoneum ; nut
our incisions are readily closed and we no longer dread interfering
with this huge lymph-sac. For tumours of the kidney this method
in clearly indicated. (3) Langenbuch has proposed making an
incision along the outer border of the rectus, whicn is said to present
advantages in certain cases.
Since the advance of ovariotomy the possibility of removal ol
portions of tho intestinal tract with a subsequent suture of tho
divided ends has been repeatedly demonstrated, and thus resections
for disease of the pylorus .ind bowel have been successfully performed.
In cases of gunshot wound, laparotomy, arrest of hsemorrhage, careful
cleansing of the peritoneum, and suture of tho wounded gut is now
tho established practice. Bull of New York reports a recovery in
a case where seven wounds in the gut were sutured. All laparo-
tomies are founded on tho type of ovariotomy ;' success depends od
the fact that two opposed serous surfaces rapidly unite, and this fact
must ever be borne in mind when wo tear or injure the bowel and
its coverings, or unite them. Sepsis is tho main disaster likely to
attend our interference, but with the meaiis at our disposial, washing
out the peritoneum if necessary, we should bo able to obviate this.
In regard to operations on the abdominal organs in which we do
not interfere with the peritoneum it is sufficient to note that from tho
lumbar region we can reach the colon, where it is uncovered by serous
membrane, tho kidney, and retrcoeritonoal tumours.' (F, M. Q)
4. Deformitiu.
(1) For club-foot, see vol. vi. p.. 42.
(2) During tho last few years, in consequence of the aaloty tiitb
' 1 The litormture of abdominal Borgcry In very ext4>nslve. Th* mott coinp3«tP
list* \nll to found In OlnhnuiieQ'a " DIa Krankliolun d<r OtwUo," la M
dnfeln ChirurgU, 1886, and In Hart and Barbour'i itaK<uU ot OtNUiolat'
692
S U R — S U R
.which bones may be divided, other defonnities, such as knock-knee
or genu valgum and bow-leg or genu varum, hare been remedied^
by operation. Drs Macewen of Glasgow, Ogston of Aberdeen,
Schede of Hamburg, and the present WTiter have been working at
this subject and have devised, more especially in knock -knee,
various methods of remedying the deformity. Operations are only
justifiable when the deformity has become chronic. During the
advancing stage, when the deformity is getting worse, when the
bones are still cartilaginous and plastic, th'e evil can be remedied
by mechanical means. This statement may be best illustrated by
a short consideration of the development of the lower limbs and
the changes which normally take place. At birth all children are
more or less bandy-legged. The child lies on its nurse's knee with
the soles of the feet facing one another 5 the tibiae and femora are
curved outwards ; and, if the limbs are extended, although the
ankles are in contact, there is a distinct space between the knee
joints. During the first year of life a gradual change takes place.
The knee joints approach one another ; the femora slope downwards
and inwards towards the knee joints ; the tibia become straight ;
and the sole of the foot faces almost directly downwards. While
these changes are occurring, the bones, which at first consist princi-
pally of cartilage, are gradually becoming ossified, and in a normal
child by the time it begins to walk the lower limbs are prepared,
both- by their general direction and by the ri^dity of the bones
which form them, to support the weight of the body. If, how-
ever, the child attempts either as the result of imitation or from
encouragement to walk before the normal bandy condition has
passed .off, the result will necessarily be either an arrest in the
development of the limbs or an increase of the bandy condition.
If the child is weakly, either rachitic or suffering from any ailment
which prevents the due ossification of the bones, or is improperly
fed, the bandy condition may remain persistent. As a rule, how-
ever, in children that are precocious as regards walking, if proper
care is taken the bandy condition will disappear without any special
treatment. In a healthy child who does not attempt to walk until
the limbs are prepared to support the weight of the body, no further
abnormal change takes place. But in a weakly child in whom the
development already described has occurred, in whom the limbs as
regards their general direction are prepared for the support of the
body, but in whom the bones forming the limbs are not sufficiently
ossified, as in the rachitic child, the shafts of the femora above the
knee and the .shafts of the tibis below the knee bend forwards ; at
the same time a change takes place at the knee joint, — the condition
called knock-hiee. In the normal limbs, the tibise being vertical
and parallel, and the distance between the upper extremities of the
femora being greater than that between their lower extremities, the
femora necessarily slope inwards tdwards the middla line, and there
is therefore in every properly developed person an angle at the
knee joint. If at this stage the bones, are sufficiently rigid to bear
the weight of the patient, no further change takes place ; but, if the
limbs give way and are not sufficiently strong, the normal angle
at the knee joint Increases and the internal lateral ligament of
the knee joint becomes stretched, — the result being knock- knee,
rhe condition may be arrested in its earUest stage by an improve-
ment in the general health of the child ; but, if no soch improve-
ment takes place, and if the child is allowed to walk, then definite
changes occur in the bones which form the knee joint. These
changes are the direct outcome of a general law, namely, that
diminished pressure results in increased growth, increased pressure
in diminished growth. The best example of the former principle
is the rapid growth that takes place in a chDd that is confined to
bed during a prolonged illness. The distorted, stunted, shortened,
and fashionable foot of the Chinese lady is an example of the latter.
In the knee joint there is diminished pressure ^between the internal
condyle of the femur and the inner condyle surface of the tibia ;
there is increased pressure between the external condyle of the
femur and the outer condyle surface of the tibia. The result is an
increased growth of the internal and a diminished growth of the
external condyles ; the knock-kneed condition is intensified, and
will go on as long as the primary cause is at work, getting worse
and wOtse, and will only cease when the bones become fully de-
veloped. As long as the disease is getting worse, the application
of a rigid splint to the outer side of the limb fixed at the foot and
at the upper part of the thigh, and the arrangement of an elastic
bandage so as to draw the limb towards the splint, the person being
kept in the horizontal posture, will cause a diminution in the pres-
8Ui e on the external condyles followed by their increased growth,
and by an increased pressure on the internal condyles followed by
a diminished growth. This effect may be obtained by applying s
weight to the limb ; a^d by mechanical means founded on this
general law cases of knock-kLee that are getting worse can be im-
proved. At first there is an arrest in the abnormality, which, is
soon followed by improvement. The different methods that have
been recommended for division of the bones are only necessary ia
those cases in which tliey have become permanently distorted.
(3) Lateral curvature of the spine is a deformity which occurs
during the developing period of life before the bodies of the verte-
brae are fully ossified. Ih young people who are growing rapidly,
and whose muscular system is weak, any bad habit, as, for example,
that of standing and throwing the weight of the body constantly
on one leg, gives rise to a drooping of the pelvis on one side ; or,
if, when writing at a desk, they are allowed to sit in a twisted
position, a lateral curvature of the spine takes place. By constant
indulgence in these bad habits the cartilaginous spinal columu gets
set in an abnormal direction. In the concavity of the curve there
is increased pressure and necessarily diminislied growth, in the con-
vexity of the curve diminished pressure with increased growth.
The patient's friends will probably notice first the right scapula
being pushed backwards by the underlying ribs, which from their
close attachmeut to the dorsal vertebrae participate in a rotatory
movement occurring in the vertebrre themselves, and, unless means
are"taken to alter the abnormal distribution of pressure, the con-
dition will become worse and worse, until complete ossification
checks the progress of the deformity. The commonest curvature
is one in which there is a dorsal convexity towards the right, with
the right shoulder higher than the left. Compensatory curves in
the opposite direction form in the lumbar and cervical regions.
Alons with the lateral curvation a rotation of the bodies of the
vertebrae towards the convexity of the curve takes place ; their
spinous processes necessarily turn towards the concavity of the curve.
, Since the line of the spinous processes of the vertebrae can be easily
traced through the skin, their deviation may mislead the superficial
observer as to the true direction in which curvature has taken place.
As the lateral curvation occurs the articular facets along the line
of the concavity are pressed together, the line of these facets being
posterior to the bodies of the yertebrse and their intervening elastic
intervertebral disks. The result of this is that the vertebral
column as a whole cannot fly away towards the convexity. The
anterior parts of tlie bodies, being farthest away from the fixed point,
are least restrained from movement, and_ they pass away toa greater
extent than the posterior parts. The result is a rotation of each
vertebra in the direction indicated. To counteract this deformity
in the earliest stages, the patient (generally a girl) shculd bo en-
couraged to walk about with a book on her head, to-ictain which
in position she must necessarily keep perfectly erect. Muscular
exercises, to strengthen the muscles of the back, ought to be en-
joined and superintended by the surgeon. During the intervals of
rest she should lie upon her back on a firm board, and should care-
fully avoid taking any exercise which gives rise to weariness of the
muscles ; for, whenever the muscles become wearied, she will at-
tempt to take up a position which throws the. strain off them on to
her ligamentous and bony structures. One of the best exercises ia
to lay the patient on her face, fix her feet, and entfourage her to
raise herself by using the muscles of the back. When the deformity
becomes more marked the use of the trapeze should be prescribed.
Hanging with her arms upon the trapeze, the weight of the lower
limbs and peh-is will tend to straighten the spine as a whole, neces-
sarily diminishing the increased pressure upon the cartilaginous
bodies of the vertebra towards the concavity, and increasing the
pressure between the sides of the bodies towards the convexity. The
tendency to rotation must be counteracted in another way. The
pelvis being-fixed, elastic bands attached to fixed points, one in
front of the patient towards her left side, another behind her to-
wards.her right side, are to be grasped by her right and left bauds
respectively, the right arm passing in front of her body, the left
arm behind it. When the patient stretches both hands simul-
taneously there will be an untwisting of the spine in a direction
opposite to the abnormal rotation. In this description, the com-
mon curvature — namely, of the dorsal region towards the right —
has been taken as a typical example to illustrate the treatment.
When the dorsal curve is in the opposite direction, the untwisting
of the curve must necessarily be in the opposite direction also.
During .the intervals of active treatment the patient must wear a
rigid support, which in itself has no direct curative action, but will
materaliy assist the treatment bypreventing the good result obtained
by the muscular exercises from being' nullified. ' (0'. C.)
SURINAM. See Gtjiana, Dutch, vol. xi. p.. 251.
SURRENDER is a mode of alienation of real estate..
It is defined by Lord Coke to be " the yielding up of an
estate for life or years -to him that hath an immediate
Mtate in reversion or remainder " (Coke upon Littleton,
337b). It is precisely the converse of release, which is a
conveyance by the reversioner or remainderman to tho
tenant of the particular estate. A surrender is the usual
means of eflfecting the alienation of copyholds. The sur-
render is made to the lord, who grants admittance to thfl
VOL. xxn
SITRREY.
PLATE X
1 W^tA-^est^n or tStattty | 4 i&i or Epson.
2 SeiOh-Vfetttm, cr GuiUfard 5 Xuu/ston.
3 S^talflafUm. er BagaOf I 6 Serdy-Eanmn or WuniUdoa
S U R — S U R
693
purchaser, an entry of the surrender and admittance being
made upon the court rolls. Formerly a devise of copy-
holds could only have been made by surrender to the use
of the testator's will, followed by admittance of the devisee.
The Wills Act of 1837 now allows the devise of copyholds
without surrender, though admittance of the devisee is
still necessary. A surrender must since 8 and 9 Vict. c.
106 be by deed, except in the case of copyholds and of
surrender by operation of law. Surrender of the latter
kind generally takes place by merger, that is, the com-
bination of the greater and less estate by descent or other
means without the act of the party. It has been dealt
with by recent legislation (see Remainder). In Scotch
law surrender in the case of a lease is represented by
renunciation. The nearest approach to surrender of a
copyhold is resignation in remaneniiam (to the lord) or
resignation in favorem (to a purchaser). These modes of
conveyance are now practically superseded by the simpler
forms introduced by the Conveyancing Act, 1874.
SURREY, a metropolitan county of England, is bounded
north by the Thames, which separates it from Berks and
Middlesex, east by Kent, south by Sussex, and west by
•Hampshire. Owing to the fact that it includes a portion
of London, it ranks fourth among the counties of England
in point of population, but in point of size it is only the
thirtieth, the total area being 485,129 acres, or 758
square miles.
The geological structure of Surrey is reflected in its
varied and picturesque scenery, the charms of which are
enhanced by the large proportion of ground stiU remaining
uncultivated. The extent of common land is also very
great, a circumstance which, from''its proximity to London,
must be considered as specially fortunate. The northern
portion of the county, in the London basin, belongs to the
Eocene formation : the lower ground is occupied chiefly
by the London clay of the Lower Eocene group, stretching
(with interruptions) from London to Farnham; this is
fringed on its southern edge by the plastic clays or Wool-
\vich beds of the same group, which also appear in isolated
patches at Headley near Leatherhead ; and the Thanet
sands of the same group crop out under the London clay
between Beddington, Banstead, and Leatherhead. The
north-western portion of the county, covered chiefly by
heath and Scotch fir, belongs to the Middle Eocene group,
or Bagshot sands : the Fox Hills and the bleak Chobham
Ridges are formed of the upper series of the group, which
Tests upon the middle beds occupying the greater part of
IBagshot Heath and Bisley and Pirbright Commons, while
'eastwards the commons of Chobham, Woking, and Esher
belong to the lower division of the group. To the south of
the Eocene formations the smooth rounded outUnes of the
chalk hills extend through the centre of the county from
Farnham to Westerham (Kent). From Farnham to Guild-
ford they form a narrow ridge called the Hog's Back, about
half a mile in breadth with a high northern dip, the greatest
elevation reached in this section being 505 feet. East of
Guildford tho northern dip decreases, and the outcrop'
widens, throwing out picturesque summits, frequently
partly wooded, and commanding widely variegated views,
tho highest elevation being Botley Hill near Titsey, 866
feet. The Upper Greensand or grey chalk marl, locally
known as firestone, crops out underneath the Chalk along
the southern escarpment of the Downs, and the Gault, a
dark blue marl, rests beneath tho Upper Greensand in the
bottom of the long narrow valley which separates tho
ehalk Downs from the well-marked Lower Greensand hills.
Leith Hill of this formation reaches a height of 967 feet,
and from its isolated position commands one of tho finest
views in the south of England, tho next highost summits
bemg Hindhead Hill (894 feet) and Holmbury Hill (857
feet). The southern part ol the county belongs to tho
Wealden formation of freshwater origin : the lower strata
or Hastings beds occupy a small portion at the south-
eastern corner, but the greater part consists of a blue or
brown shaly clay, amid which are deposited river shells,
plants of tropical origin, and reptilian remains.
The whole of the county north of the Downs is in the
basin of the Thames. Besides a number of smaller streams,
its chief affluents from Surrey are the Wey at Weybridge,
the Mole at East Moulsey, and the Wandle at Wandsworth.
The Eden, a tributary of the Medway, takes its rise in the
south-east corner of Surrey.
According to the agricultural returns for 188C, of the total area
of the county 299,034 acres were under cultivatfon, 77,553 being
under corn crops, 44,998 under green crops, 20,741 rotation grasses,
138,117 permanent pasture, 2547 hops, and 9078 fallow. There
are considerable varieties of soil, ranging from plastic clay to
calcareous earth and bare rocky heath. The plastic clay is well
adapted for wheat, the most largely grown of the com crops,
occupying 29,694 acres in 1886, while barley, oats, and pease,
which grow well on the loamy soils in different parts of the
county, occupied respectively 15,439, 24,705, and 4587 acres, beans
occupying 1872 and rye 1256. Of green crops there were 6432
acres under potatoes, 15,975 under turnips ana swedes, 9995 man-
golds, 860 carrots, 2660 cabbage, kohl-rabi, and rape, and 9076
vetches and other green crops. A considerable proportion of the
area under green crops is occupied by the market gardens on the
alluvial soil along the banks of the Thames, especially in the vicinity
of London. The total area of nursery grounds in 1886 was 1466,
and of market gardens 2953 acres. In early times the market gar-
deners were Flemings, .who introduced tho culture of asparagus at
Battersea aud of carrots at Chertsey, for which this district is still
famous. The area under orchards in 1886 was 2144 acres. Rhodo-
dendrons and azaleas are largely grown in the north-western district
of the county. In the neighbourhood of Jlitcham various medicinal
plants are extensively cultivated for the London herb-sellers and
druggists, such as lavender, mint, camomile, anise, rosemary,
liquorice, hyssop, &c The calcareous soil in the neighbourhood
of Farnham is well adapted for hops, but this crop in Surrey is of
minor importance. There is a considerable area under wood
(42,974 acres in 1881). Oak, chestnut, walnut, ash, and elm are
extensively planted ; alder and willow plantations are common ;
and the Scotch fir propagates naturally from seed on the commons
in the north-west of the county. Tlie extent of pasture land is not
great, with the exception of the Do\vns, which are chiefly occupied
as sheep-runs. Dairy-farming is a more important industry tnan
cattle-i^eding, large quantities of milk being sent to London. The
number of horses in 1886 was 9930, of which 3273 were unbroken
horses and mares kept solely for breeding; of cattle 49,986, of
which 24,869 were cows and heifers in milk or in calf and 8699
other cattle two years old and above; of sheep 87,658 ; and of
pigs 25,172.
According to the latest (1873) landowners Return for England,
Surrey was divided among 17,293 proprietors possessing 398,746
acres at an annual value of £2,285,814, in addition to which there
were 40,037 acres of common lands. Of the proprietors 12,712, or
nearly two-thirds, possessed less than one aero cacn, tho total which
they owned being 2861 acres. The average annual rental per acre of
the land all over was about £5, 14s. 9d. Tlie following proprietors
held over 5000 acres each: — earl of Lovclaco, 9958; croivn, 7496;
earl of Onslow, 6563 ; Sir W. R. Clayton, 6505; G. W. G. Leveson-
Gower, 6368.
Manufactures. — The more important manufactures are chieUy
confined to London and its immediate neighbourhood (see London,
vol. xiv. p. 832). There are paper-mills at Wandsworth, and along
the valley of the Wandlo there are snuff, drug, and copper mills.
Calico bleaching and printing are carried on to a small extent in the
same valley, and there are also a few silk mills and tanneries. Ropes,
snuff, and drugs are likewise manufactured along the banks of the
Mole "Woollen goods and hosiery are made at Godalming, and
gunpowder is largely manufactured at Chilworth. _
Communication.— In addition to the navigation by bdiws,
steamers ply on tho Thames as far as Hampton. Tho Basingstoke
Canal from Basingstoke to the Wey at Woybridgo crosses tho north-
west comer of tho county, and the Surrey and Sussex Canul passes
southwards from tho Wey near Guildford to tho Arun. Surrey is
more completely supplied by raUways than any other county in
England, the London, Chatham, and Dover, tho South-Ea»tom, the
London, Brighton, and South Coast, and tho London and South,
Western Railways intersecting it by their mam lines as woU as by
various branches. . , ,
Administration and Popw?a<ion,— Surrey contains 14 hundreds ;
tho borough of Southwark (pop. 221,946), which has no m>">icip»l
government, but for certain purposes is connccUd with tho city oi
(594
» U K K i!J Y
T/ondon ; and the municipal boroughs of Godalming (2505), Guild-
ford (10,858), Kingston-upon-Thames (20,648), and Reigate (18,662).
A considerable portion (22,472 acres, with a population in 1881 of
S80,522) is within the metropolitan district of London, in addition
to which there are the following urban sanitary districts — Alder-
shot (20,155), Croydon (78,953), Dorking (6328), East Moulsey
(8289), Epsom (6916), Farnham (4488), Ham Common (1349),
Hampton Wick (2164), New Maiden (2538), Richmond (19,066),
Surbiton (9406), Teddington (6599), and Wimbledon (16,950). The
county has one coui't of quarter sessions, and is divided into twelve
petty and special sessional divisions. The central criminal court
has jurisdiction over certain parishes in this county. The borough
of Guildford has a separate court of quarter sessions and commission
of the peace ; the boroughs of Keigate and Kingston-upon-Thames
I ive commissions of the peace ; the borough of Southwark is in-
c .uded in the petty sessional division of Newington ; and the
torough of Godalming, in which the mayor and ex-mayor are magis-
trates, forms part of the petty sessional division of Guildford, the
county justices having concurrent jurisdiction. The county con-
tiius 152 civil parishes, with parts of two others. It is shared
.imong the dioceses of Canterbury, Rochester, and Winchester.
Until 1885 the county for parliamentary purposes was divided into
East, Mid, and West Surrey ; it is now rearranged in six divisions,
viz., Kingston, Mid (Epsom), North-East (Wimbledon), North-
vyest (Chertsey), South-East (Lsigate), and South-West (Guildford).
The portion of Surrey formerly included in the borough of Green-
T.ich was in 1885 included in the borough of Deptford (Kent) ;
the borough of Guildford was disfranchised ; one member was given
to Croydon ; and instead of the two metropolitan boroughs of
liSmbcth and Southwark the following fifteen constituencies (each
xaturning one member) were created: — Battersea and Clapham,
constituting two divisions; Camberwell, embracing the divisions of
Nort\ Camberwell, Dulwich, and Peckham ; Lambeth, embracing
the divisions of Brixton, Kennington, Lambeth North, and Norwood;
Southwark, containing the divisions of Bermondsey, Rotherhithe,
and Southwark West ; Wandsworth ; and Newington, with the
divisions of Walworth and West Newington.
Since the beginning of th*19th century the population has in-
creased nearly 600 per cent. From 268,233 in 1801 it had increased
by 1821 to 399,417, by 1851 to 683,082, by 1871 to 1,091,635, and
by 1S81 to 1,436,899, of whom 683,228 were males and 763,671
females. The number of persons to an acre is 2 '96 and of acres to
a person 0'34. Within the last decade the increase has been 35'1
per cent., — much greater than the increase in the general town
population of England and Wales, which was 19-63 per cent., the
increase in tlie whole population being only 14'34. Nearly two-
tliirds (980,522) of the population belong to the metropolitan
district of London, but the suburbs of London extend practically
throughout the greater part of the county, its increase in popu-
lation being chiefly due to the building of residences for those who
have business or professional interests in London.
History and Antiquities. — Notviithstanding its proximity to
London, Surrey has been associated with few great events in
English history. Roman remains have been discovered at Albury,
Kingston, Titsey, Woodcote, and a few other places, but none are
of much importance. On several of the hills there are remains of
camps of either Roman or British origin. The Roman Stane
Street from London to Chichester in Sussex passed by Kingston,
Chessington, Leatherhead, Dorking (where its remains are specially
well marked), Leith Hill, and Ockley. During the Saxon period
Surrey was included in the dominions of the South Saxons and
afterwards of Wessex. Its name Surrey or "south kingdom" has
apparently reference to its position south of London or south of
tlie Thames. Kingston in Surrey was in 83S the seat of a witana-
femot convened by Egbert : and after the capture of Winchester
y the Danes it was from 901 to 978 the place where the Anglo-
Saxon kings were crowned. Surrey was an earldom of Godwine ;
and after the conquest was bestowed on William de Warren, who
had married Gundrada, supposed to have been a daughter of the
Conqueror. From the time that the gi'eat charter was on 15th
June 1215 signed bv King John at Runnymede near- Egham the
historicsil annals of the county are a blank, until the period of the
Civil War, when a skirmish took place, 7th June 1648, at Kingston.
The only ecclesiastical ruins worthy of special mention are the
picturesque walls of Newark Priory, founded for Augustiiuans in
the time of Richard CcEur de Lion ; and the Early English crypt
and part of the refectory of Waverley Abbey, the earliest house of
the Cistercians in England, founded in 1128 by William Gifford,
bishop of Winchester. The Annates Waverlienses, published by
Gale in his Scriptores and afterwards in the Record series of
Chronicles, are supposed to have suggested to Sir Walter Scott the
name of his first novel. The church architecture is of a very
varied kind, and has no peculiarly special features. Among the
more interesting churches are Albury, the tower of which is of
Saxon or very early Norman date ; Beddington, a fine example of
the Perpendicular, and containing monuments of the Carew family ; I
I'haldon, remarkable lorita irescowaii-paintmgs of the 12th century, I
discovered during restoration in 1870 ; Compton, which, thouglf
mentioned in Domesday, possesses little of its original architecture,
but is worthy of notice for its two-storied chancel, and its carved
wooden balustrade surmounting the pointed Transition Norman
arch which separates the nave from the chancel ; St. Mary's, Guild-
ford, containing examples of Norman, Early English, Decorated,
and Perpendicular, but is of interest chiefly for the grotesque carv-
ing on the corbels of the aisles and the coloured medallions on the
roof of the north chapel ; Leigh, Perpendicular, possessing some
very fine brasses of the 16th centmy ; Lingfield, Perpendicular,
containing ancient tombs and brasses of the Cobhams ; Ockham,
chiefly Decorated, with a lofty embattled tower, containing the mau-
soleum of Lord Chancellor King (d. 1734), with full-length statue
of the chancellor by Rysbroeck ; Reigate, chiefly Perpendicular,
but with Transition Norman pillars in the nave ; Stoke dAbemon,
Early English, with the earliest extant English brass, that of Sir
John d'Abernon, 1277 ; and Woking, Decorated, with Early English
chancel. Of old castles the only examples are Farnham, occupied
as a palace by the bishops of Winccester, originally built by
Henry of Blois, and restored by Henry III. ; and Guildford, with
a strong quadrangular Norman keep. Ancient domestic architect-
ure is, however, well represelited, the examples including Bedding-
ton Hall, now a female orphan asylum ; the ancient mansion of the
Carews, rebuilt in the reign of Queen Anne, but still retaining the
hall of the Elizabethan building ; Crowhurst Place, built in the
time of Henry YII., the ancient seat of the Gaynosfords, and fre-
quently visited by Henry VIII. ; portions of Croydon Palace, an
ancient seat of the archbishops of Canterbury ; the gate tower of
Esher Place, built by William of WaynHete, bishop of Winchester,
and repaired by Cardinal Wolsey ; Archbishop Abbot's hospital,
Gmldford; in the Tudor style ; the fine old Elizabethan house of
Losely near Guildford ; Cowley House, Chertsey, originally of the
time of James I., inhabited by the poet Cowley from the Restora-
tion till his death ; Smallfield Place, now a farmhouse, at one time
the seat of Sir Edward Bysshe, garter king-at-arms ; and Sutton
Place, dating from the time of Henry VIII., possessing curious
mouldings and ornaments in terra -cotta. Among the eminent
persous specially connected with Surrey may be mentioned George
Abbot, archbishop of Canterbury, the son of a cloth worker in
Guildford ; Arthur Onslow, bom at Mcrrow in 1691, who became
member for Guildford and speaker of the House of Commons ; Sir
WiUiam Temple, who had his residence at Moor Park, where he
died in 1699 ; Sii Nicolas Carew, beheaded for conspiracy in 1539,
and other members of the family, who had their ancestral seat at
Beddington ; John Evelyn, the diarist, who was bom at Wotton
in 1620 ; Mai thus, the political economist, who was bom at the
Rooke, near the same place, in 1766; William Cohbett, who was
bom near Farnham in 1762 ; Home Tooke, who was born at
Westminster, wrote his well-known book at Purley, and died at
Wimbledon in 1812 ; the historian Gibbon, who was born at
Putney in 1737, which was also the birthplace of Cromwell, the
minister of Henry VIII.
See Topley'a Geology V ^ Weald and WWtaker'fl Geolojy of tondon Basi*,
forming part of the Memoirs of Geological Survey of United Kingdom; Surrey
Archxological CoUectioru; Aubrey, Natural History and Antiquities of Sitrrey,
5 vols., 1713-19 ; Mannmg and Bray, Hist, and Antiq. of Surrey, 1809-14 ; Bray-
ley, Topograph. Hist, of Surrey, 5 vols., 1841-46 ; Lysoas, Envirojls of London,
6 vols., 1800-11 ; Baxter, Domesday Book qfSumy, 1S78. (T. F. H.)
SURREY, Heney Howaed, Eael of (1516M547), one
of the leaders in the poetic movement under Henry VIH.
that heralded the great outburst of the Elizabethan period.
Of his personal life outside his poetry only the barest out-
line is known, and till comparatively of late even that
outline was not free from confusion. Tliree different men —
the grandfather of the poet, his father, and the poet him-
self— bore the title within a period of ten or eleven years ;
and at one time the poet was confounded with hia grand-
father, and supposed to have been present at the battle of
Flodden (1513). He was not born till at least two years
after that event. It was his grandfather who distinguished
himself at Flodden under the title of the earl of Surrey,
and was created duke of Norfolk as a reward for lus
services, surrendering the title of Surrey to his son, the
poet's father, for his lifetime. Although the poet has
always been most familiarly known as the earl of Surrey,
he really held the title only by courtesy, succeeding to it
on that footing in 1524, when his father became duke of
Norfolk. In one of his poems he speaks of having
passed "his childish years" at Windsor "with a king's
son." This was Henry ViU.'s natural son, Henry Fitzroy,
duke of Richmond, who was aflSanced to Surrey's sister,
Ma.y, but died before he was out of hia teens. It is
S U R — S U R
sometimes said that the two were educated together at
Windsor ; bnt the sweet companionship to which the poem
refers, when the two youths " hoved " in the large green
•courts "with eyes cast up into the maiden's tower," belongs
to the last year of Fitzroy's short life. Whether or not
Surrey was educated from literal childhood with a king's
son, he was certainly educated with the care for literary
culture which about that time became common- in the
households of English noblemen ; and, as the fashion
■was, he was sent, after passing through Cambridge, to
complete his education in Italy. The tradition that he
made the tour of Europe as a knight-errant, upholding
ag-iinst all comers the superiority of his mistress Geraldine,
has no extrinsic evidence in its favour. If Geraldine was,
ati is commonly supposed, Elizabeth Fitzgerald, a daughter
of the earl of KLldare, she was but a child of seven or eight
years when Surrey set out on his travels. The legend about
his knight-errantry is probably only a sign of the extent to
which his chivalrous personality and poetry fascinated the
imagination of his own and the next generation. The
eminence of the Howards at Henry's court was evidenced
in many ways : in the festivities at the king's marriage
with Anne of Cleves, Surrey was the leader of one of the
sides at the tournament, and two years later his cousin,
Catherine Howard, became the king's fifth vnfe. Surrey
took an active part in the insignificant wars of Henry's
later years, accompanied the expedition, led by his father,
which ravaged the south of Scotland in 1542, and held a
command in the French expedition of 1544. When the
king's death was known to be near, the duke of Norfolk
was suspected of aiming at the throne, and Surrey's own
haughty and ostentatious manners countenariced the sus-
picion. A month before the king's death both were
arrested and lodged in the Tower, and on 13th January
1547 Surrey was brought to trial for high treason. The
main charge against him was that he iad " falsely, mali-
ciously, and treacherously set up and borne the arras of
Edward the Confessor." His plea that the arms belonged
to his ancestors was probably not accepted as an extenua-
69D
tion of the offence. A common .jurj- found him guilty
and he was executed on Tower Hill on I'jth January
His poems, which had been one of the occiipatiors of his crowded
hfc, first appeared m print in TollelS Misallany in 1557. On the
title-page ol this memorable publication Surrey's name stood first
but this was probably in deference to liis rank : Wyatt was thi
first in point of time of Henry's "courtly makers" (see Wvajt)
Surrey indeed, expressly acknowledges Wyatt, who was several
years his senior, as his master in poetry. Seeing, however that
their poems were first published in the sam" volume, many 'years
after the death of botli, their names can never be disassociated
and it must always be hard to say which was tlio leader in the
various new and beautiful forms of verse which ToUel's Miscellany
introduced into. English poetry. Surrey's only unquestionable
distinction as a metrician lies outside the Miscellany : his trans-
lation of the second and fourth books of the ^i'lici'rf into blank versa
—the first attempt at blank verse in English—was published
separately by Tottel in the same year. But his sonnets (in various
schemes of verse), Ids elegy on the death of Wyatt (in elegiac
staves shut in by a final couplet), his pastoral poem (a lover's
complaint put into the mouth of a shepherd), and his IjTics in
liveher measures are all extremely interesting experiments, and
served as models for more than one generation of courtly singers
and sonneteers. In form as well as in substance Surrey and hia
compeers were largely indebted to Italian predecessors ; most of
bis poems are in fact translations or adaptations of Italian originals.
The tone of the love sentiment was new in Engli'sh poetry, very
different in its earnestness, passion, and fantastic extravagance
from the lightness, gaiety, and humour of the Chaucerian scTiooL
In this respect ToUel's Miscellany helped to educate the English
muse for the triumphs of the tragic drama. Surrey's own con-
tributions are distinguished by their copious and impetuous
eloquence and sweetness.
SURROGATE is a deputy of a bishop or an ecclesiastical
judge, acting in the absence of his principal, and strictly
bound by the authority of the latter. At present the chief
duty of a surrogate is the granting of marriage licences.
Quite recently judgments of the arches court gf Canterbury
have been delivered by a surrogate. The office is unknown
in Scotland, but is of some importance in the United States.
In the State of New York the surrogate's court is a court
of record, with jurisdiction over the administration of the
personal estate of a deceased person and certain other
matters. In New Jersey the surrogate is an official of
the orphans' court, grants unopposed probates, &c.
SUKVEYINO
SURVEYING is the art of determining the relative
positions of prominent points and other objects on
the surface of the ground and making a graphical delinea-
tion i of the incl;ided area. The general principles on
which it is conducted are in all instances the same : cer-
tain measures are made on the ground and corresponding
measures are protracted on paper, on a scale which is fixed
at whatever fraction of the natural scale may be most
appropriate in each instance. The method of operation
varies with the magnitude and importance of the survey,
which may embrace a vast empire or be restricted to a
small plot of land. All surveys rest primarily on linear
measures for direct determinations of distance ; but these
are usually largely supplemented by angular measures, to
enable distances to be deduced by the principles of geome-
try which cannot be conveniently measured over the surface
of the ground where it is hilly or broken. The nature of
a survey depends on the proportion which the linear and
the angular measures bear to each other ; it may be purely
linear or even purely angular, but is generally a combina-
tion of both methods. Thus in India there are numerous
instances of largo tracts having been surveyed by the purely
linear method, in the course of the revenue surveys which
were initiated by the native Governments. The operations
■were conducted by men who had no knowledge of geometry
or of any other measuring instrument than the rod or chain,
and whose principal object was the determination of fairly
accurate areas ; their methods sufficed for this purpose and
were accepted and perpetuated for many years by the Euro-
pean officers to whom the revenue assessments became en-
trusted after the subversion of the native rule. In India,
too, there are extensive tracts of country which have been
surveyed by the purely angular method, either because the
ground did not permit of the chain being employed with
advantage, as in the Himalayan mountains and hill tracts
generally, or because the chain was considered politicaUy
objectionable, as in native states where it would have been
regarded with suspicion.
Surveys of any great extent of country were formerly
constructed on a basis of points whose' positions were fixed
astronomically, and in some countries this method of opera-
tion is still of necessity adopted. But points whose relative
positions have been fixed by a triangulation of moderate
accuracy present a more satisfactory and reliable basis ;
for astronomical observations are liable, not only to the
well-known intrinsic errors which are eaused by uncer-
tainties in the catalogued places of the moon and stars,
buf to external errors arising from deflexions of the plumb
line under the influence of local attractio".s, and these of
themselves materially exceed the errors which would be
generated in a fairly executed triangulation of a not ex-
cessive length, .say not exceeding 500 miles. The French
Jesuits who made a survey of China for the emperor about
1730 appear to have been the first deliberately to discard
696
SURVEYING
[TEIANGULATlOlf.
tne astronomical and adopt the trigonometrical basis. In
India the change was made in 1800, when what is known
as the Great Trigonometrical Survey was initiated by Major
Lambton — \vith the support of Colonel Wellesley, after-
wards Duke of Wellington — as a means of connecting the
several surveys of routes and districts which had already
been made in various parts of the country, and as a basis
for future topography. This necessitated the inception of
the survey as an undertaking calculated to sati^sfy the re-
quirements of geodesy as well as geography, because the
latitudes and longitudes of the points of the triangulation
bad to be determined for future reference, — as in the case
of the discarded astronomical stations, though in a different
manner, — by processes of calculation combining the jresults
of the triangulation with the elements of the earth's figure.
The latter were not then known with much accuracy, for so
far geodetic operations had been mainly carried on in
Europe, and additional operations nearer the equator were
much wanted ; the survey was conducted with a view to
supply this want. Thus a high order of acciiracy was aimed
at from the very first. In course of time the operations
were extended over the entire length and breadth of Hin-
dustan and beyond, to the farthest limits of British sway ;
they cover a larger area, than any other national survey
as yet completed, and are very elaborate and precise. Thus,
as triangulation constitutes the most appropriate basis for
survey operations generally, a short account will be given
of (1) the methods of the Great Trigonometrical Survey of
India. This will be followed by accounts of (2) traversing
as a basis for survey, (3). levelling, (4) survey of interior
detail, (5) representation of ground, (6) geographical recon-
naissance, (7) nautical surveying, (8) mapping, (0) map
printing, (10) instruments.
I. Great Trigonometeical Sttrvey of India.
BfiiM*l 1- General Outlines. — Primarily a network was thrown
totlines. over the southern peninsula. The triangles on the central
meridian were measured with extra care and checked by
base-Lines at distances of about 2° apart in latitude in order
to form a geodetic arc, . with the addition of astronomi-
cally determined latitudes at certain of the stations. The
base-lines were measured with chains and the principal
angles with a 3-foot theodolite, which, however, was badly
damaged almost at the outset by an accident to the
azimuthal circle. The signals were cairns of stones or poles.
The chains were somewhat rude and their units of length
Fig. 1.
liad nof been determined originally, and could not be after-
wards ascertained. The results were good of their kind
and suflScient for geographical purposes ; but the central
meridional arc — the "great arc" — was eventually deemed
inadequate for geodetic requirements. A superior instru-
mental equipment was introduced, with an improved modus
operandi, under the direction of Colonel Everest in 1832.
The network system of triangulation was superseded by
meridional and longitudinal chains taking the form of grid-
irons, and resting on base-lines at the angles of the grid-
irons, as represented in fig. 1. For convenience of reduc-
tion and nomenclature the triangulation west of meridian
92° E. has been divided into five sections, — the lowest
a trigon, the other four quadrilaterals distinguished by
cardinal points which have reference to an observatory
in Central India, the adopted origin of latitudes. In the
north-east quadrilateral, which was first measured, the
meridional chains are about one degree apart; this dis-
tance was latterly much increased, and eventually certain
chains — as on the Malabar coast and on meridian 84° in
the south-east quadrilateral — were dispensed with, because
good secondary triangulation for topography had been
accomplished before they could be commenced.
2. Modern Base-Lines. — All these were measured with Baj
the Colby apparatus of compensation bars and microscopes. ^^
The bars, 10 feet long, were set up horizontally on tripod
stands ; the microscopes, 6 inches apart, were mounted in
pairs revolving round a vertical axis a,nd were set up on
tribrachs fitted to the ends of the bars. Six bars and five
central and two end pairs of microscopes — the latter with
their vertical axes perforated for a look-down telescope —
constituted a complete apparatus, measuring 63 feet be-
tween the ground pins or registers. For explanation of
compensation see Earth, Figure of the, vol. vii. p. 599.
Compound bars are necessarily more liable to accidental
changes of length than simple bars ; they were therefore
tested from time to time by comparison with a standard
simple bar; the microscopes were also tested by comparison
with a standard 6-inch scale. At the very first base-lino
the compensated bars were found to be liable to sensible
variations of length with the diurnal variations of temper-
ature ; these were suppose^ to be due, not to error in
effecting the compensation, but to the different thermal
conductivities of the brass and the iron components. It
became necessary, therefore, to determine the mean daily
length of the bars very precisely, for which reason they were
systematically compared with the standard before and after,
and sometimes at the middle of, the base-line measurement
throughout the entire day for a space of three days, and
under conditions as nearly similar as possible to those
obtaining during the measurement. Eventually ther-
mometers were applied experimentally to both components
of a compound bar, when it was found that the diurnal
variations in length were principally due to difference of
position relatively to the sun, not to difference of con--
ductivity, — the component nearest the sun acquiring heat
most rapidly or parting with it most slowly, notwithstand-
ing that both were in the same box, which was always
kept under the cover of a tent and carefully sheltered
from the sun's rays. Happily the systematic comparisons
of the compound bars with the standard were found to
give a sufficiently exact determination of the mean daily
length. An elaborate investigation of theoretical probable
errors at the Cape Comorin base showed that, for any base-
line measured as usual without thermometers in the com-
pound bars, the p.e. may be taken as ± 1'5 millionth parts
of the length, excluding unascertainable constant errors,
and that on introducing thermometers into these bars the
p.e. was dimitdshed to ± 0'55 millionths.
In all base-line measurements the weak point is the
determination of the temperature of the bars when that pf
the atmosphere is rapidly rising or falling ; the thermo-
meters acquire and lose heat more rapidly than the bar if
TKIANODTATION.J
SUKVEYING
697
their bulbs are outside, and more slowly if inside the bar.
Thus there is always more or less lagging, and its effects
are only f liminated when the rises and faUs are of equal
amount and duration ; .but as a rule the rise generally
predominates g)/eatly during the usual hours of v/ork, and
■whenever this happens lagging may cause more error in a
base-line measured with simple bars than all other sources
of error combined. In India the probable average lagging
of the standard-bar thermometer was estimated as not less
tlian 0°'3 Fahr., corresponding to an error of -2 millionths
iu the length of a base-Une measured with iron bars. With
compQund bars lagging would be much the same for both
components and its influence would consequently be elimi-
nated. Thus the most perfect base-line apparatus would
seem to be one of compensation bars with thermometers
attached to each component ; then the comparisons with
the standard need only be taken at the times when the
temperature is constant, and there is no lagging.
3. Factor of Exjoansion of Standard Bar. — This was
first determined in 1832 by measuring the increment in
■length between temperatures of 76° and 212° Fahr.; in
1870 the increment between 52° and 96° was measured;
the results indicated an increase of expansion with tem-
perature. ThBy were therefore combined on the empirical
assumption that the expansion is the sum of two terms, —
the first X times the temperature, the second y times the
square of the temperature ; x and y were then determined
from the two equations of condition given by the two sets
of measurements. The resulting value of the expansion
at 62° was found to be 5 p^ cent, less than the previously
derived value at the mean temperature of 144°, thus show-
ing the importance of employing a factor varying with the
mean temperature of ej>.di base-line : and this was done
in the final reductions.
4; Plan of Triangulaiion. — This was broadiy a system
of internal meridional and longitudinal chains with an ex-
ternal border of oblique chains following the course of the
frontier and the coast lines. The design of each chain
was necessarily much influenced by the physical features
■of the country over which it was carried. The most diffi-
cult tracts were plains of great extent, devoid of any com-
manding points of view, in some parts covered ■with dense
forest and jungle, malarious and deadly, and almost unin-
habited, in other parts covered with towns and villages
and umbrageous trees, — the adjuncts and concomitants of
a teeming population. In such tracts triangulation was
impossible except by constructing lofty towers as stations
of observation, raising them to a sufficient height to over-
top at least the earth's curvature, and then either increas-
ing the height to surmount all obstacles to mutual vision,
or clearing the lines, both of which were laborious and
expensive' processes. Thus in hilly and open country the
chains of triangles were generally made "double" through-
out, i.e., formed of polygonal and quadrilateral figures, to
give greater breadth and accuracy ; but in tracts of
forest and close country they were carried out as series of
single triangles, to give a minimum of labour and expense.
Symmetry was secured by restricting the angles between
the Rmits of 30° and 90°. The average side length was
30 miles in hill country and 11 in the plains ; the longest
principal side was 62-7 miles, though in the .secondary
triangulation to the Himalayan peaks there were sides
exceeding 200 miles. Long sides were at first considered
desirable, on the principle that the fewer the links the
"ireater the accuracy of a chain of triangles ; bat it was
eventually found that good observations on long sides
could only be obtained under exceptionally favourable
atmospheric conditions, which were of rare occurrence.
The sides were therefore shortened, whereby the observa-
tions were much improved and accelerated. In plains the
length was governed by the height to which towers could
be conveniently raised to surmount the curvature under
the well-knowi^ condition, height in feet = § x square of
the distance in miles ; thus 24 feet of height was needed
at each end of a side to overtop the curvature in 12 miles,
and to this had to be added whatever was required to
surmount obstacles on the ground. In Indian plains re-
fraction is more frequently negative than positive during
sunshine ; no reduction could therefore be made for it.
5. Selection, of Sites for Stations. — This, a very simple
matter in hills and open country, is often very difficult in
plains and close country. In the early operations, when
the great arc was being carried across the wide plains of
the Gangetic valley, wliich are covered with villages and
trees and other obstacles to distant vision, masts 35 feet
high were carried about for the support of the small re-
connoitring theodohtes, with a sufiiciency of poles and
bamboos to form a scaffolding of the same height for the
observer. Other masts 70 feet high, with arrangements
for displaying blue lights by night at 90 feet, were erected
at the spots where station sites were wanted. But the cost
of transport was great ; the rate of progress was slow ; and
the results were unsatisfactory. Eventually a method of
touch rather than sight was adopted, feeling the ground
to search for the obstacles to be avoided, rather thaii
attempting to look over them; the "rays" were traced
either by a minor triangulation, or by a traverse witb
theodolite and perambulator, or by a simple alignment of
flags. The first method gives the direction of the aev
station most accurately ; the second searches the grounc»
most closely ; the third is best suited for tracts of uniri,
habited forest in which there is no choice of either line or
site, and the required station may be built at the inter-
section of the two trial rays leading up to it. As a rula
it has been found most economical and expeditious to raise
the towers only to the height necessary for surmounting
the curvature, and to remove the trees and other obstacle^
on the lines.
6. Structure of the Principal Stations. — Each has a cen- Prtnclpl
tral masonry pillar, circular and 3 to 4 feet in diameter, stetiooii
for the support of a large theodolite, and araund it a plat
form 14 to 16 feet square for the observatory tent, observer,
and signallers. The pillar is carefully isolated from the
platform, and when solid carries the station mark — a dot
surrounded by a circle — engraved on a stone at its surface,
and on additional stones or the rock w situ, in the normal
of the upper mark ; but, if the height is considerable and
there is a liability to deflexion, the pillar is constructe,d
with a central vertical shaft to enable the theodolite to bo
plumbed over the ground-lgvel mark, to which access is
obtained through a passage in the basement. In early
years this precaution against deflexion was neglected and
the pillars were built solid throughout, whatever theic
height; the surrounding platforms, being usually con
structed of sun-dried bricks or stones and earth, were liable
to fall and press against the pillars, some of which thu.»
became deflected during the rainy seasons that intervenet*'
between the periods during which operations were arrestea
or the commencement and close of the successive circuits 04
triangles. In some instances displacements of mark occurrec^
of which the magnitudes were not ascertainable, but were
estimated as equivalent to p.e.'a of about ± 9 inches in thei
length and±2"-4 in the azimuth of the side between any
two deflected towers ; aT"" as these theoretical errors ara
identical with what may be expected at the end of a
chain of 36 equilateral triangles in which all tl>o angles
liavo been measured with ap.e. = ± 0"'5, the old triangula-
tion over solid towers had evidently suffered much more
from the deflexions of the towers than from errors iu the
measuremr'nts of the anjrles
22-25*
698
SURVEYING
7. Instruments for Measuring Principal Angles. — Large
theodolites were invariably empbyed. Repeating circles
•were Eighly thought of by French geodesists at the time
■when the operations in India were being commenced ; but
they were not used in the survey, and have now been gener-
ally discarded.
The principal theodolites are somewhat similar to the
astronomer's alt-azimuth instrument, but with larger azi-
inuthkl and smaller vertical ciixles, also with a greater
base to give the 'firmness and stability which are required
in measuring hori2ontal angles. The azimuthal circles
have mostly diameters of either 36 or 24 inches,' the ver-
tical circles having a diameter of 18- inches. In all the
theodolites the base is a tribrach resting on three levelling
foot-screws, and the circles are read by microscopes ; but
i.n different instruments the fixed and the rotatory parts of
the body vary. In some the vertical axis is fixed on the
tribrach and projects upwards ; in others it revolves in the
tribrach and projects downwards. In the former the
azimuthal circle is fixed to the tribrach, while the telescope
pillars, the microscopes, the clamps, and the tangent screws
are attached to a drum revolving round the verticalaxis ;
in the latter the microscopes, clamps, and tangent screws
are fixed to the tribrach, while the telescope pillars and the
azimuthal circle are attached to a'plate fixed at the head
of the rotatory vertical axis. The former system— called
that of flying microscopes — permits the vertical axis to be
readily opened out and cleaned, and presents the same clamp
and tangent screw for employment during a round of angles;
the latter — the system oi fixed microscopes — necessitates the
removal and replacement of all the microscopes, clamps,
and tangent screws whenever the axis is cleaned, which is
very troublesome, and it presents three sets of clamps and
tangent screws for successive employment during a round
of angles, which is a' departure from true differentiality
The vertical axis is perforated for centring over the station
mark with the aid of a "look-down telescope" instead of
a plummet. The azimuthal circle is invariably read by an
odd number of microscopes, either three or five, at equal
intervals apart. The telescope rests with its pivots in Y's
at the head of two pillars of a sufficient height to enable
It to be completely turned round in altitude. The vertical
circle is fixed to the transit axis of the telescope, and is
read by two microscopes 180° apart, at the extremities of
arms projecting from one of the pillars. The stand is a
well-braced tripod, carrying an iron ring on which the theo-
dolite rests and may be turned round bodily whenever de-
sired, as for shifting the position of the zero of the azimuthal
circle relatively to the points under observation. The ring
is 3 inches broad and of the same diameter as the circle
of the foot-screws of the theodolite.. In some instruments
the foot-screws rest, directly on the ring ; but the instru-
ment can be raised oflT the ring and turned round with the
aid of an apparatus in the centre of the stand. In others
they rest in grooves at the angles of an iron triangle which
8:ts on_ the ring and can be shifted in position by hand ;
. thus with the stand well levelled in the first instance the
circle may be set within 1' of any required reading. The
centring over the station mark is performed by pushing
screws placed either in th' drum of the stand or at the
angles of the triangle.
For travelling the. theodolites were packed in two cases,
the larger containing the body of the instrument, the
smaller the telescope and the vertical- circle ; the stand
constituted a third package. Each was carried on men's
ghouiders as the s£}fest method of transport ; the weights,
of the' heaviest 3G-inch and of the lightest 24-inch instru-
ments, as packed with ropes and bamboos; were, respect
ivcly, as follows : — body, 649 B) ; telescope, 130; stand
232; total, 1011 lb; and 300, 135, and 185, total 620 lb.
[teianqulation.
8. Signals. — Cairns of stones, poles, or oiher opaque
signals were primarily employed, the angles being measured
by day only ; eventually it was found that the atmosphere
yras often more favourable for observing by night than by
day, and that distant points were raised well into view by
refraction by night which might be invisible or only seen
with difficulty by day. Lamps were then introduced of
the simple form of a cup, 6 inches in diameter, filled with
cotton seeds steeped in oil and resin, to burn under an
inverted earthen jar, 30 inches in diameter, with an aper-
ture la the side towards the observer. Subsequently this
contrivance gave place to the Argand lamp with parabolic
reflector; the opaque day signals were discarded for helio-
tropes reflectmg the sun's rays to the observer. The in-
troduction of luminous signals not only rendered the night
as well as t^e day available for the observations but changed
the character of the operations, enabling work to be done
during the dry and healthy -season of the year, when the
atmosphere is generally hazy and dust-laden, instead of
being restricted as formerly to the rainy and unhealthy
seasons, when -distant opaque objects are best seen A
higher degree of accuracy was also secured, for the lumi-
nous signals were invariably displayed through diaphragms
of appropriate aperture, truly centred over the station
mark ; and, looking Uke stars, they could be observed with
greater precision, whereas opaque signals are always dim
in comparison and are liable to be seen excentricaUy whea
the light falls on one side.
_ A signalling party of thrse men was nsnally found suffix
cient to manipulate a pair of heUotropes— one for single
two f(Jr double reflexion, according to the sun's position—
and a lamp, throughout the night and day. HeUotropers
were also employed at the observing stations to flash in-
structions to the signallers.
_ 9. Measuring Horizontal Angles.— The theodolites were M^as
invariably set up. under tents for protection against sun i^gh
wind, and rain, and centred, leveUed, and adjusted for the ^™'^
runs of the microscopes. Then the signals were observed ^^^^
in regular rotation round the horizon, alternately from
right to left and vice versa ; after the prescribed minimum
number of rounds, either two or three, had been thus
.measured, the telescope was turned through 180°, both
in altitude and azhnuth, changing .the position of the face
of the vertical circle relatively to the observer, and further
rounds were measured; additional measures of single
angles were taken if the prescribed observations were not
sufficiently accordant. As the microscopes were invariably
equidistant and their number was always odd, either three
or five, the readings taken on the azimuthal circle during
the telescope pointings to any object in the two positions
of the vertical circle, "face 'right" and "face left," were
made on twice as many equidistant graduations as the
number of microscopes. The theodolite was then shifted
bodily in azimuth, by being turned on the ring on the
head of the stand, which brought new graduations under
the microscopes at the telescope pointings ; then further
rounds were measured in the new positions, face right
and face left. This -process was repeated as often as
had been previously prescribed, the successive angular
shifts of position being made by equal arcs bringing
equidistant graduations under the microscopes ' during
the successive telescope pointings to ore and the same
object. _ By these arrangements all periodic errors of
graduation were eliminated, the numerous graduations
that were read tended to cancel accidental errors of divi-
sion, and the numerous rounds of measures to minimize
the errors of observation arising from atmospheric and
personal causes.
The foUowing table (I.) gives detaOs of the procedure at different
times ; m the Jieadings M stands for the number of microscopea
TEIANGTILATION.'I
SURVEY IJSG
over the azimuthal circle of the theodolite, Z for the number of
the zero settings of the circle, N for the number of graduations
brought under the microscopes, A = 360°-=-N, the arc between the
graduations, R the prescribed number of rounds of laeasures,
and P = R X Z, the minimum number of telescope pointing's to any
station, excluding repetitions for discrepant observations : —
Period,
M
z
N
A
R
P
1830-45
5
8
40
r 0'
3
24
1845-55
6
10
50
7° 12'
2
20
1853-.S0
i 6
I 3
10
12
60
36
7° 12'
10° 0'
3
3
30
36
Under this system of procedure the instrumental and
ordinary errors are practically cancelled and any remaining
error is most jjrobably due to lateral refraction, more
especially when the rays of light graze the surface of the
ground. The three angles of every triangle were always
measured.
10. Vertical Angles. Refraction. — The apparent alti-
tude of a distant point is liable to considerable variations
during the twenty-four hours, under the influence of changes
in the density of the lower strata of the atmosphere. Ter-
restrial refraction is very capricious, more particularly when
the rays of light graze the surface of the ground, passing
through a medium which is liable to extremes of rarefac-
tion and condensation, under the alternate influence of the
snn's heat radiated from the surface of the ground and of
ehUled atmospheric vapour. When. the back and forward
•verticals at a pair of stations are equally refracted, their
difference gives an exact measiire of the difference of height. •
But the atmospheric conditions are not always identical at
the same moment everywhere on long rays which graze the
surface of the ground, and the ray between two recipro-
cating stations is liable to be differently refracted at its
extremities, each end being influenced in a greater degree
by the conditions prevailing around it than by those at a
distance ; thus instances are on record of a station A being
invisible from another B, while B was visible from A.
When the great arc entered the plains of the Gangetic
vaUey, simultaneous reciprocal verticals were at first adopted
with the hope of eliminating refrac'ion; but it was soon
found that they did not do so sufiiciently to justify the
expense of the additional instruments and observers. After-
wards the back and forward verticals were observed as the
stations 'were visited in succession, the back angles at as
nearly as possible the same time of the day as the forward
angles, and always during the so-called " time of minimum
refraction," which ordinarily commem.es about an hour after
apparent noon and lasts from two to three hours. The
apparent zenith distance is always greatest then, but the
refraction is a minimum only at stations which are well
elevated above the' surface of the ground ; at stations on
plains the refraction is liable to pass through zero and
attain a considerable negative magnitude during the heat
of the day, for the lower strata of the atmosphere are then
less dense than the strata immediately above and'^the rays
are refracted downwards. On plains the greatest po.sitivo
refractions are also obtained, — maximum values, both
positive and negative, Usually occurring, the former by
night, the latter by day, when the sky is most free from
clouds. The values actually met with were found to range
from -f 1'21 down to - 009 parts of the contained arc on-
plains ; the normal " coefficient of refraction " for free rays
between hill stations below GOOO feet was about -07, which
diminished to •01 above 1 8,000 feet, broadly varying in-
versely as the tomporaturo and directly as the pressure, but
much influenced also by local climatic conditions.
In measuring the vertical angles with the great theodo-
lites, graduatiou errors wore regarded fs insignificant com-
pared with errors arising from uncertain refraction ; thus
90 arrangemcut was made for effecting chances of zero in
699
the circle settings. The observations were alwaj s tasei)
in pairs, face right and left, to eliminate index error^j
only a few daily, but some on as many days "as possible^
for the variations from day to day were found to be greatei
than the diurnal variations during the hours of minimnro
refraction.
11. Results deduced from Observations of Iloruoniai
Angles ; Weights. — In the Ordnance and other surveys tho
bearings of the surrounding stations are deduced from tha
actual observations, but from the "included angles" in
the Indian. Survey. The observations of. every angle ari
tabulated vertically in as many columns as the number oj
circle settings face left and face right, and the mean foi
each setting is taken. For several years the general meat*
t)f these was adopted as the final result; but subsequently
a " conclu'led angle " was obtained by combining the single
means wivh weights inversely proportional to ^^-j-o^-r-w,
— g being a value of the e.rn.s^ of graduation derireJ
empirically from the differences between the general mean
and the mean for each setting, o the e.m.s. of observa^
tion deduced from the differences between the individual
measures and their respective means, and n the number oi
measures at each setting. Thus, putting Wj, Wj, . . . for tlif
weights of the single means, w for the weight of the conj
eluded angle, M for the general mean, C for the concluded
angle, and d-^, d^, , . . for tfie differencea_betweea M and
the single Tueans, ■we have
and lw=v>-^TWi+ „ (2).
C - M vanishes vfhen n is constant ; it is inappreciabll
when g is mach larger than o ; it is significant only when
th^ graduati in errors are more minute than the errors c\
observation; but it was always small, not exceeding 0"'14
with the system of two rounds of measures and 0"*05 with
the system of three rounds.
The weights of the concluaea angles thus obtained ■were
employed in the primary reductions of the angles of singi*
triangles and polygons which were made to satisfy t.hf
geometrical conditions of each figure, because they wert
strictly relative for all angles measured with tho same
instrument and under similar circumstances and conditioa»
as was almost always the case for each single figure. Bui
in the final reductions, when numerous chains of triangles
composed of figures executed with different instruments
and under different circumstances, came to be adjusted
simultaneously, it was necessary to modify thb original
weights, on such evidence of the precision of the angles
as might be obtained from other and more reliable sources
than the actual measures of the angles. This treatment
will now be described.
12. Determination of Theoretical Ahsohie Errors- o/
Observed Angles. — Values of theoretical error for groups
of angles measured with the same instrument and under
similar conditions may be obtained in three ways, — (L) froi»
the squares of tho reciprocals of the weight w deduced a»
above from the measures of such angle, (ii.) from the majnii-
tudes of the excess of tho sum of the angles of each triuugl*
above 180° -t- the spherical excess, and (iii.) from the magui
tudes of the corrections which it is necessary to apply It
the angles of polygonal figures and netvrorks to satisfy th«
several geometrical conditions (indicated in the nexf Beo
tion). Let e^, e^ and e^ bo the values of the e.raj. thus
obtained ; then, putting n for the number of angles groupflrf
together, we have
• 2_ "• „ [squares of triangular crrora] .
also, putting IT for tho moan o! tho weights of the t anglia
' The theoretical " error of mean «qu»r6" = V48 x " probabls ernir
700
SURVEYING
LTEIANGULATIMf.l
of a polygonal figure having m geometrical equations of
condition, and x for the most probable value of the error
«f any observed angle, we have
e^— „, — = — for a siii"lo figure,!
=■>-% for? group of figures,
[mj o i o
the brackets [] in each case denoting the sum of all the
quantities involved, e.^ usually gives the best value of the
theoretical error, then e^. As a rule the value by e^ is too
small j but to. this there are notable exceptions, in which
it was found to be much too great. The instrument with
which the angles were measured in these instances gave
very discrepant results at different settings of the circle ;
but this was caused by large periodic errors of graduation
■which did not affect the " concluded angles," because they
were eliminated by the systematic changes of setting, so
the results were really more precise than was apparent.
When weights were determined for the final simultaneous
reduction of triangulations executed by different instru-
ments, it became necessary to find a factor p to be applied
as a modulus to each group of angles measured with the
same instrument and under similar conditions, to convert
the as yet relative weights into absolute measures of preci-
sion, p was made = ^i ^ ^3 whenever data were available,
if not to «! -T- «2 ; ^^^'°- ^16 absolute weight of an observed
angle in any group was taken as top"^ and the e.m.s. of the
angle as 1 -^p^xo. The average values of the e.m.s. thus
determined for large groups of angles, measured with the
36-inch and the 24-inch theodolites, ranged from ± 0"'24
to ±0"'67, the smaller values being usually obtained at
hill stations, where the atmospheric conditions were most
favourable.
Rarmon- 13. Harmonizing Angles of Ti-igonometrical Figures. —
uiRl^ -^'^^ry figure, whether a single triangle or a polygonal net-
work, was made consistent by the application of corrections
to the observed angles to satisfy its geometrical conditions.
The three angles of every triangle having been observed,
their sum had to be made = 180° -1- the spherical excess;
in networks it was also necessary that the sum of the
angles measured round the horizon at any station should
tie exactly = 360°, that the sum of the parts of an angle
measured at different times should equal the whole, and
that the ratio of any two sides should be identical, what-
ever the route through which it was computed. These are
called the triangular, central, toto-pariial, and side condi-
tions ; they present n geometrical equations, which contain
t unknown quantities, the errors of the observed angles, <
being always >n. When these equations are satisfied and
the deduced values of errors are applied as corrections
to the obseiVed angles, the figure becomes consistent.
Primarily the equations were treated by a method of suc-
cessive approximations ; but afterwards they were all
solved simultaneously by the so-caUed method of minimum
squares, which leads to the most probable of any system
of corrections ; it is demonstrated under E.^eth, Figure
OF THE (vol. vii. p. 599). The following is a general out-
line of the process : —
Let X be the most probable value of the error and v, the recipro-
cal of the weight of any observed angle X, and let o, J, ... m be
the coefficients of x in successive geometrical equations of condition
whose absolute terms are e„, Sj, . . . c„ ; then we have the following
group of n e(^uations containing t unkno^vn quantities to be satis-
fied, the significant coefficients of x being 1 in the triangular, toto-
partial, and central, and ± cot X in the side equations : —
hxi-
..(3).
1 + 0^2 + . . . + aiXt=ea\
I +1)1X2+. , . + T>fft=ei I
. i + ii^i+...+nt'Xt-e^)
The values of x will be the most probable when — is a minimum,
a condition which introduces n indeterminate factors X- . . . X.„
whose values are obtained by the solution of the following eqi
tions : — [aa.u'W + [ah.u'\\^ + . . .+ [an. «]X„ = e, '
[ab. it]X. + [bl. M]X) -^ . . . + [te. "'
re.ij]X„ = e„)
ii\
[a«.«]X„ + [bn.uW + . . .+ [n«.i
the brackets indicating summations of t terms'as to left of (3).
Then the value of any, t'je ^th, x is
Xp=^Up\a^a + b^i + . . . -HlpXn)
The minimnm or
., . . . . (5).
[^]is=[<:X] (6)
In the application to a single triangle we have x^+x^+x^^e,
X = c-=-(«, + M2 + «3) ; x^ = xi{K; x^—u'^; x.^=u^.
In the application to a simple polygon, by changing symbols and
putting X and Y for the exterior and Z for the central angles, with
errors x, y, and : and weight reciprocals u, v, and w, a for cot X
and b for cot Y, e for any triangular error, e^ and e, for the central
and side errors, Xj and X, for the factors for the central and side
equations, and W for u + v + w, the equations for obtaining the
factors become
"L iy r~''~vw\
and the general expressions for the errors of the angles are—
['"-fI
HT),
x=^{e + {aW - au + bv)\-
ibW+au-bv)\,- \Wc }
,.(8).
/ a= 7j7 {« - (a« - Wj\, + {u+ v)K]
14. Calculation of Sides of Triangles. — The angles Sides <>i
having been made geometrically consistent inter se in eacfi triangle
figure, the side-lengths are computed from the bas6-line
onwards by Legendre's theorem, each angle being dimin-
ished by one-third of .the spherical excess of the triangle
to which it appertains. The theorem is applicable without
sensible error to triangles of a much larger size than any
that are ever measured.
15. Calcidation of Latitudes and Longitudes of StationslAVAni
and Azimuths of Sides. — A station of origin being chosen and
of which the latitude and longitude are known astronomi- Y^F'
cally, and also the azimuth of one of the surrounding g^^yp^j
stations, the differences of latitude and longitude and the aamntl
reverse azimuths are calculated in succession, for all the of aides
stations of the triangulation, by Puissant's formulae {Traite
de Geodesic, Paris, 1842, 3d ed.).
ProSfcjrt.— Assuming the earth to be spheroidal, let A and B ba
two stations on its surface, and let the latitude and longitude of A
be known, also the azimuth of B at A, and the distance between
A and B at the mean sej.-level ; we have to find the latitude and
longitude of B and the aamuth of A at B.
The following symbols are employed -.—a the major and 6 the
minor semi-axis ; e the excentricity, = J — ;;— ! ; p the radius of
a(l-e^)
curvature to themeridian in latitude \ = -
J
to the meridian in latitude X, = -
„ .„ , .i i " the normal
- c-sin^} »
X and L the given
{l-c'sin=X}i'
latitude and longitude of A ; X-l- AX and i-l- Ai the required lati-
tude and longitude of B ; .^ the azimuth of B at A ; B the azimuth
of A at B ; ^ = B-{Tr + A)\ c the distance between A and B.
Then, all azimuths being measured from the south, we have
AX":
Ai-'z:
— cos .(4 cosec 1"
P
1 c-
- - — %ia-A tan X cosee 1*
2 p.v
_ 3 fi_^„ cos'.4 sin 2X cosec V
i p.v 1 — e-
+--^ sm^A cos A{X + Z tan= X) cosec I'
6 p.n'
c sin A -,,
^ cosec 1
V cos X
1 c' sin 2 A tan X
"^iv^ cosX
Ok
cosec 1*
1 (?(\ + Z tan'X) sin 2A cos A
'eJ^ cosX
1 (? SCO? A tan^ X
cosec 1"
+ n-.
3 i-^ cos X
cosec 1°
(10).
^fUANG CTLATION.]
SURVEYING
701
— sin ^ tan X cosec 1'
+ \%.\ l + 2Un=\ + -Y^ jsinZ^cosecl"
- -3|- + tan'Xj — ^ sin 2^ cos ^ cosec 1"
+ r^sinM tanX(l + 2 tan' X) cosec 1"
6 v^
Hn).
'Each A is the sum of four terms symbolized by J„ S.^ S^, and S^ ;
the calculations are so arranged as to produce these terms in the
order S\, iL, and 5A, each term entering as a factor in calculating
the following term. The arrangement is shown below in equations
in which the symbols P, Q, . . . Z represent the factors which depend
on the adopted geodetic constants, and vary with the latitude ; the
logarithms of their numerical values are tabulated in the Auxiliary
\Tables to Facilitate the Calculations of the Indian Survey.
S{K = -P.cosA.c 5jt = + 5,X.GsecX.tan^ 5,^4 = + J,Z.sinX^
iJi= + S^A.Il.smA.cS„L = -S:,\.S.cotA dM=+d„L.T l,,„.
S'^=-d^A.r.cotA SlL = + Si\.U.sinA.e S^A^ + d^L-jr n^-'-
,tt\ = -B^A.X.tanA StL= + Si\.r.taxLA \A=+iiL.Z )
By this artifice the calculations are rendered less laborious and
) made susceptible of being readily performed by any persons who
^ are acquainted with the use of logarithm tables.
hni^^of 16. Limits within which Geodetic Formulx may he eni-
eod^tie ployed without Sensible Error. — Each A is expressed as a
*™"'^- series of ascending diafereutials in which all terms above
the third order are neglected ; for the side length c in no
case exceeded 70 miles, nor was the latitude ever higher
than 36°, and for these extreme values the maximum magni-
tudes of the fourth differential are only 0"'002 in latitude
and 0""004 in longitude and azimuth.
Far greater error may arise from uncertainties regard-
I ing the elements of the earth's figure, which was assumed
to be spheroidal, with semi-axes a = '20,922,932 feet and
6 = 20,853,375 feet. The changes in AA, AL, and AA
, which would arise from errors da and db in a and 6 are
indicated by the following formulae : —
P
d.AZ = ~AL. — -
V
, .{dn 2de
d.AA=-i^.
dv
SU
{dv V It
-(M+M)2—
dv rfp\
~ Pf
)-25,X.-
/ V
P>
2tan'X
..(13),
m which
dp
= - •000,000,0478{&i-2<»-8((fa-<»)Bln=X} "
2de
—= + -000,000,0478 {da + {da- db) sin' X}
•000,0145 {rfa-d6}
,.(14).
(1 - e^jc
The adopted values of the semi-axes were determined
"by Colonel Everest in an investigation of the figure of the
earth from such data as were available in 1826. Forty
years afterwards an investigation was made by Captain
j(now Colonel) A. R. Clarke with additional data, which
gave new values, both exceeding the former.^ Accepting
these as exact, the errors of the first values are da= - 3130
feet and db= - 1746 feet, the former being 150, the latter
84 millionth parts of the semi-axis. The corresponding
changes in arcs of 1° of latitude and longitude, expressed
in seconds of arc and in millionth parts (/x) of arc-length,
are as follows : —
Inlat. 5°rf.AX=-"069orl9/xandd.Ai;=
., 15° „ -"■113,, 31,
„ 25° „ -"-195 ,,-54,, „ ,,
„ 35° ,-, -"-SOS,, 84,
"•540 or 150 /i;
"•554 ,, 154,,;
"•581 ,,161,,;
"•617 ,,171,.
These assumed errors in the geodetic latitudes and longi-
tudes are of service when comparisons are made between
independent astronomical and geodetic determinations at
" Sec Account of the Prindpal Trianr/iilation of the Ordnance Suv
*tn, 1858, and Comparisons of Standards of LainlL.,lS66.
any points for which both may be available : they indi-
cate the extent to wl^ich differences may be attributable
to errors in the adopted geodetic constants, as distinct
from errors in the trigonometrical or the astronomical
operations.
17. Final Reduction of Principal Trianffidation.— The
calculations described so far suffice to make the angles of
the several trigonometrical figures consistent inter se, and
to give preliminary values of the lengths and azimuths of
the sides and the latitudes and longitudes of the stations.
The results are amply sufficient for the requirements of
the topographer and land surveyor, and they are published
in preliminary charts, which give full numerical details of
latitude, longitude, azimuth, and side-length, and of height
also, for each portion of the triangiilation— secondary as
well as principal — as executed year by year. But on the
completion of the several chains of triangles further reduc-
tions became necessary, to make the triangulation every
where consistent inter se and with the verificatory base
lines, so that the lengths and azimuths of common sides
and the latitudes and longitudes of common stations should
be identical at the junctions of chains, and that the
measured and computed lengths of the base-lines should
also be identical.
How this was done will now be set forth. But first iti
must be noted that the triangulation might at the same
lime have been made consistent with any values of latitude;
longitude, or azimuth which had been determined by
astronomical observations at either of the trigonometrical
stations. This, however, was undesirable, because such
observations are liable to errors from deflexion of "the
plumb-line from the true normal under the influence of
local attraction, and these errors are of a much greater
magnitude than those that would be generated in triangu-
lating between astronomical stations which are not a great
distance apart. The trigonometrical elements could not
be forced into accordance vidth the astronomical without
altering the angles by amounts much larger than their
probable errors, and the results would be useless for in-
vestigations of the figure of the earth. The only inde-
pendent facts of observation which could be legitimately
combined -mth. the angular adjustments were the base-lines,
and all these were employed, while the several astronomical
determinations — of latitude, differential longitude, and
azimuth — were held in reserve for future geodetic investi-
gations.
As an illustration of the problem for treatment, suppose a com-
bination of three meridional and two longitudinal chains comprising
seventy-two single triangles, with a base-line at each cornel) as shown
in the accompanying diagram (fig. 2) ; suppose the three angles of
every triangle to have been c [ B]
measured and made con-
sistent. Let A bo the ori-
gin, with its latitude and
longitude given, and also
the length and azimuth of
tho adjoining base -lino.
With these data processes
of calculation are carried
through tho triangulation
to obtain the lengths and _
azimuths of tho sides and
the latitudes and longi-
tudes of tho stations, say in tho following order : — from A through
B to E, through F to E, through F to D, through F and E to
C, and through F and D to C. Then there are two values of
side, azimuth, latitude, and longitude at E, — pno from tho right-
liand chains via B, tho other from tho left-hand chains via F ;
similarly there are two sets of values at C ; and each of the base-
linfs at B, C, and D has a calculated as well as a measured valnc.
Thus eleven absolute-errora are presented for dispersion over tho
triangulation by tho application of tho most appropriate correction
to each angle, and, as a preliminary to tho determination of Oieja
corrections, equations must bo constructed between each of the
absolute errors and the unknown errors of the anjjlcs from whici
702
SURVEYING
'1
■■■}
(16),
they ormnated. Fortliis purpose assume A' to tie the angle oiiposite
the flank side of any triangle, and r and Z the angles opposite the
aides of continuation ; also let x, y, and z be the most probable
values of the errors of the angles which will satisfy the given
equations of condition. Then each equation may be expressed in
the torm [ax + by + cz] = E, the brackets indicating a summation
lor all the triangles involveii W- have first to asnertain the values
of the coefficients a, b, and c of the unknown quantities. They arc
readily found for the side equations on the circuits and between
the base-Imea for x does not enter them, but only )/ and - with
coeflicients wuch are the cotangents of Y and Z, so that' these
enuations are simply [cot F.y-cot Z.z\ = E. But three out of four
01 the circuit equations are geodetic, corresponding to the closing
t,TjQT3 in latitude, longitude, and azimuth, and in them the co-
efficients are very complicated. They are obtained as follows,
ihe first term of each of the three expressions for AX, At, and B
is differentiated in terms of c and A, giviw
d.A\= A\/*-<;^tan.^sinl"l"
d.AZ= AlI ~+dA cot A &iul
dS= dA ■{- AA I '^ + dA cot A sinl
in which de and. dA represent the errors in the length and azimuth
of any side c which have been generated
in the course of the triangulation up
to it from the base-line and the azi-
muth station at the origin. The errors 6
in the latitude and longitude of any
station which are due to the triangula-
tion are (ft, = [rf.ax], and dZ, = [d. A L\.
Let station 1 be the origin, and let
2, 3, . . . be the succeeding stations
taken along a predetermined line of
iraverse, which may either run from
vertex to vertex of the successive tri-
■ngles, zigzagging between the flanks
of the chain, as in fig. 3 (1), or be
carried directly along one T)f the flanks,
as in fig. 3 (2). For the general sym-
bols of the differential equations sub-
atitute A\„, AZ„, AA„, c„, A„, and B„,
for the side between stations n and
n -1-1 of the ti'a verse ; and let Sc„ and
. tAn be the errors generated between the sides c„_
/\ fi/ /; % 'i' ■■■ <:„~,L7j'
(i^, = M, ; dA,=dB, + dA^; . . . dA„=dB„^i + dA„.
Performing the necessary substitutions and summations, we get
[xKIANGULATIOir.
dS„ = -
■^*H = «
?^$+:
[A^]
5c,
+ AA,
■(■(H-,[A^cot^]sinl")5^, + (l-l-"[A^cot^]sinr)5^,
+ .. . +{l + AAnCotA„sml")SA„
Sc„
Ci - Cj
+ AX„-
{j[AXtan^]5^, + JAXtan^]5.4j-(- ,
+ AX„ tan .,4„o^,f} sin 1"
fi s and 0's to determine ; but it becomes nece.-isarv to adopt diflerent
numberings for the stations and the triangles, aAd the form of the
coefficients of the angular errors alternates in successive triangles.
1 hus, if the pth triangle has no side on the Hue of the traverse but
only au angle at the ah station, the form is
+ <Pi-^j> + cot Vp-ii't-i/i, - cot Zj^ijl',-^
If the }th triangle has a side between the llh and the (Z-H)tU sta-
tions of the traverse, the form is
cot A',{m', - «i',+,te, + y-p, -^ ^',+ , cot r,)y, - (0,^, - /^ cot Z,)z,.
As each circuit has a n^ht-hand and a left-hand branch the
errors of the angles are finally arranged so as to present equations
of the general form
[ax + h/ + c:]r - [ax + hy + c:], = E.
The eleven circuit and base-line e^juatious of condition havin|
been duly constructed, the next step is to find values of the anguhi
errors which mil satisfy these equations, and be the most probablo
of any system of values that will do so, and at the same time will
not disturb the existing harmony of the angles in each of the
seventy-two triangles. Harmony is maintained by introducing the
equation of condition x + y + z=0 for every triangle. The most
probable results are obtained by the method of minimum squares,
which may be applied iu two ways.
(i. ) A factor X may bo obtained for each of the eighty-throe equa-
tions under the condition that f^-i-^' + ^l is made a minimum, u,
r, and w being the rcciproeah of the weights of the observed angles.
This necessitates the simultaneous solution of eighty-three equafions
to obtain as many values of X. The resulting values of the ciTors
of the angles in any, the pth, triangle, are
av=">M]; yp=''#j.x]; ■~j,=%o^[c;k] (17).
(ii.) One of the unknown quantities in every triangle, as r, may
be eliminated from each of the eleven circuit and base-line equa-
tions by substituting its equivalent -[y + z) for it. a similar substi-
tution being made in the minimum. Then the equations take the
form [{b-a)y + {c-a)z] = E, while the niinLoium becomes
Thus we have now to find only eleven values of X by a simultaneous
solution of as many equations, instead of eighty-three values from
eighty-three equations ; but we arrive at more complex expressions
for the angular earors as follows : —
yp=„ ^I'l:,. i(«i. + «';.)[(*i--ai,)X]-«'„[(<;^-ap)X]} "
\ ■•. (18).
{(«- + i'/,)[fe - a:p)X] - Vp[{b^ - a,)X]}
y
V
-1-
U^+Vp + tVp
^Sc.
&.
5c»
dL,yi.i = <
;[Airf + ",[A£]^+...-(-Ai„'
+ { JAi cot A]SA^ + "[Ai cot A]SA, + ...
+ AZ„cot A„5A„]sial"
Thus we have the following expression for any geodetic error
/xiil-f... +ii„j^ + 4,^dA^ + . . . + ,t,„SA„=E, ...(16),
Iwhcre /i and 0 represent the respective summations which are the
coefficients of 5c; and SA in each instance but the first, in which
1 is added to the summation in forming the coefficient of SA.
> The angular errors x, y, and z must now be introauced, in place
of Sc and dA, into the general expression, which will then take
difl['erent forms, according as the route adopted for the line of
traverse was the zigzag or the direct. In the former, the number
of stations on the traverse is ordinarDy the same as the number of
triangles, and, whether or no, a common numerical notation may
-be adopted for both the traverse stations and the collateral triangles j
thus the angular errors of every triahgle enter the general ezpresaiaii
in the form _ iipx + coty-i/y-cotZ./j-'z,
in which ft'=fi. sin 1", and the upper sign of 0 is taken if the tri-
ancle lies to the left, the lower if to the right, of the line of traverse,
yne" the direct traverse is adoptea, there are only naif as many
"— lanfl ataUona as t}iangle%_gpii therefore only half the number '
The second method has invariably been adopted, originally be-
cause it was supposed that, the number of the factors X being re-
duced from the total number of equations to that of the circuit and
base-line equations, a great saving of labour would be effected. But
subsequently it was ascertained that in this resnect there is little
to choose between th» two m-'hods ; for, when a;"is not eliminated,
and as many factors are introduced as there are equations, the factors
for the triangular equations may be readily eliminated at the outset.
Then the really severe calculations will be restricted to the solution
of the equations containing the factors for the circuit andbase-liuc
equations, as in the second method.
In the preceding illusti-ation it is assumed that the base-lines are
errorless as compared with the triangulation. Strictly speakin",
however, as base-lines are fallible quantities, presumably of differ^
ent weight, their errors should be introduced as unknown quantities
of which the most probable values are to be determined in asimul-i
taueous investigation of the errors of all the facts of observation,
whether linear or angular. When they are connected together
by so few triangles that their ratios may be deduced as accurately,
or nearly so, from the triangulation as from the measured lengths)
this ought to be done ; but, when the connecting triangles are so
numerous that the direct ratios are of much greater weight than
the trigonometrical, the errors of the base-lines may be neglected.
In the reduction of the Indian triangulation it was decided, after
examining the relative magnitudes of the probable errors of the
linear and the angular measures and ratios, to assume the base-lines
to bo errorless (see § 19, p. 704 below).
The chains of triangles being largely composed of polygons or
other networks, and not merely of single triangles, as has been
assumed for simplicity in the illustration, the geometrical harmony
to be maintained involved the introduction of a large number of
"side," "central," and " toto-partial " equations of condition, as
well as the triangular. Thus the problem for attack was the simul-
taneous Holution of a number of equations of condition = that of all
the geometrical conditions of every figure -I- four times the number
of circuits formed by the chains of triangles -f the number of base-
lines-I, tilt number of unknown quantities contained in the
ay I Cijuations being that of the whole of the observed angles ; tli^
of I method of procedure, if rigorous, would be precisely similar to thai
TBIANOULATION.J
SURVEY! x^G
already indicated for " harmonizing the angles of trigonometrical
figures," of which it is merely an expansion from single figures to
great groups.
The rigorous treatment woula, however, have involved the
simultaneous solution of about 4000 equations between 9230 un-
known quantities, which was quite impracticable. The triangula-
tion was therefore divided into sections for separate reduction, of
which the most important were the five between the meridians of
67° and 92° (see fig. 1, p. 696), consisting of four quadrilateral figures
and a trigon, each comprising several chains of triangles and some
base-lines. This arrangement had the advantage of enabling the
final reductions to be taken in hand as soon as convenient after
the completion of any section, instead of being postponed until all
were completed. It was subject, however, to the condition that
the sections containing the best chains of triangles were to be first
reduced ; for, as all chains bordering contiguous sections would
necessarily be " fixed " as a part of the section first reduced, it was
obviously desirable to run no risk of impairing the best chains by
forcing them into adjustment with others of inferior quality. It
iiappened that both the north-east and the south-west quadrilaterals
contained several of the older chains ; their reduction was therefore
made to foUow-that of the collateral sections containing the modem
chains.
But the reduction of each of these great sections was in itself a
very formidable undertaking, necessitating some departure from
a purely rigorous treatment. For the chains were largely composed
of polygonal networks and not of single triangles only as assumed
in the illustration, and therefore cognizance had to be taken of a
number of "side" and other geometrical equations of condition,
which entered irregularly and caused great entanglement. Equa-
tions 17 and 18 of the illustration are of a simple form because they
have a single geometrical condition to maintain, the triangular,
which is not only expressed by the simple and symmetrical equation
x + y +z=0, but — what is of much greater importance — recurs in
a regular order of sequence that materially facilitates the general
solution. Thus, though the calculations must in all cases be very
numerous and laborious, rules can be formulated under which they
can be well controlled at ev.ery stage and eventually brought to a
successful issue. The other geometrical conditions of networks are
expressed by equations which are not merely of a more complex
form but have no regular order of sequence,'for the networks pre-
sent a variety of forms ; thus their introduction would cause much
entanglement and complication, and greatly increase the labour of
the calculations and the chances of f-ilure. Wherever, therefore,
any compound figure occurred, only so much of it as was required
to form a chain of single triangles was employed. The figure having
previously been made consistent, it was immaterial what part was
employe^ but the selection was usually made so as to introduce
the fewest triangles. The triangulation for final simultaneous
reduction was thus made to consist of chains' X)f single triangles
only; but all the included angles were "fixed" simultaneously.
The excluded angles of compound figures were subsequently har-
monized with the fixed angles, which was readily done for each
figure per St.
This departure from rigorous accuracy was not of material im-
portance, for the angles of the compound figures excluded from the
simultaneous reduction had already, in the course of the several
independent figural adjustments, been made to exert their full in-
fluence on the included angles. The figural adjustments had, how-
ever, introduced new relations between tlie angles of different figures,
causing their weights to increase cmteris paribus with the number
of geometrical conditions satisfied in each instance. Thus, suppose
w to be the average weight of the t observed angles Of any figure, and
n the number of geometrical conditions presented for satisfaction ;
then the average weight of the angles after adjustment may be
taken as to. — , the factor thus being 1'5 for a triangle, 1'8 for
a hexagon, 2 for a quadrilateral, 2'5 for the network around the
Sironj base-line, &c.
In framing the normal equations between the indeterminate
factors X for the final simultaneous reduction, it would have greatly
added to the labour of the subsequent calculations if a separate
weight had been given to each angle, as was done in the primary
figural reductions ; this was obviously unnecessary, for theoretical
requirements would now bo amply satisfied by giving cqu.il weights
to all the angles of each independent figure. The mean weight
that was finally adopted for the angles of each group was therefore
taken as i
w.p, ,
p being the modulus already indicated in section 12.
The second of tlie two processes for applying the method of
minimum squares having been adopted, the values of the errors
y and z of the angles appertaining to any, the ;)th, triangle were
finally expressed by the following equations, which are derived from
(18) by substituting u for the rociprocol final mean weight as above
determined ; —
The most laborious part of the calculations was the constmction
and solution of the normal equations between the factors X. On
this subject a few hints are desirable, because the labour involved
is liable to be materially influenced by the order of sequence adopted
in the construction. The normal equations invariably take ths
form of (4), the coefficients on the diagonal containing summations
of squares of the coefficients in the primary equations, while those
above and below contain summations of products of the primary
quantities, such that the coefficient of the pth X in the jth equation
is the same as that of the gth X in the pti equation. In practice,
as any single angular error only enters a few of the primary equa-
tions of condition, many of the coefficients vanish, both in the
primary and in the normal equations ; and it is an object of great
importance so to aiTange the normal equations that most blanks
sliall occur above and fewest blanks between the significant values
on each vertical line of coefficients ; in other words, the significant
values above and below the diagonal should lie as closely as possible
to the diagonal, every value on which is always significant. This
advantage is secured when the primary equation^ are aiTanged in
groups in which each contains a number of angular errors in
common and as many as possible of those entering the group on
each side. Thus the arrangement must follow the natural succes-
sion of the chains of triangles rather than the characteristics of
the primary equations ; if, for example, all the side equations were
grouped together, and all the latitude equations, and so on, great
entanglement would arise in the solution of the normal equations,
enormously increasing the labour and the chances of failure. The
best arrangement was found to be to group the side and the three
geodetic equations of each circuit together in'the order of sequence
of the meridional chains of triangles, and then to introduce the
"ide equations connecting base-lines between the groups with which
They had most in common.
The following table (II.) gives the numoer of equations of condi-
tion and unknown quantities-r— the angular errors — in the five great
sections of the triangulation, which wei'i respectively included in
the simultaneous general reductions and relegated to the subse-
quent adjustments of each Sgaiepcr se : —
y,=f[(26p-a,-
"[{^Cj,
a,-e,)\]\
a,-yx]j'
703
..(19).
Section,
Simultaneous.
External Figural. |
Equations.
|2
Equations.
ti
5«
© 1
4
4
1
a
6
Side.
it
1. N.W. Quad. ..
2. S.E. Quad. ..
3. N.E. Quad. ..
4. Trigon
5. S.W. Quad. ..
23
15
49
22
24
650
277
673
SOS
172
1650
831
1719
909
616
267
164
112
192
83
104
64
66
79
32
152
92
69
101
62
6
2
0
i
761
476
841
647
237
no
68
60
77
40
The magnitudes of the 2481 angular errors determined simultane-
ously in the first two sections were very small, 2240 being under
0"-l, 205 between 0"'l and 0"'2, 33 between 0"-2 and 0"-3, 2 between
0"-3 and 0"-4, and 1 between 0"-4 and 0"-5. In the third section,
which contained a number of old chains, executed with instruments
inferior to the 2 and 3 foot theodolites, they were larger: 780 were
under 0"-l, 9^11 between 0"-l and l"-0, 27 between 1"0 and 2"'0, and
1 between 2"'0 and 2""1. Thus the corrections to the angles were
generally very minute, rarely excefding the theoretical probable
errors of the angles, and therefore applicable without taking any
liberties with the facts of observation.
18. Theoretical Error of any Function of Angus of a
Geometrically corrected Triangulation. — The investigatioc
of such theoretical errors was no easy matter. AMien firs;
essayed it was generally assumed by mathematicians it
England that any attempt to exhibit the theoretical error
by a purely algebraical process soon led to results of in-
tolerable comple.xity, so that it was desirable to introduce
numbers as soon as possible for every symbol except the
absolute terms of the geometrical or primary equations of
condition. But on continuing the algebraical process cer-
tain relations were found to exist between the coefficients
of the indeterminate factors in the normal equations of the
minimum square method and the coefficients of the un-
known quantities in tlio primary equations of condition,
which eniM inously simplified the process and led to a general
algebraical expression of no great complexity ; it was also
found that, the number of primary equations being n, the
704
SURVEYING
[teiangttlation:
labour of calculation by the formula was reduced to an
nth of that involved by resorting at once to numbers.
Let F be any function whatever of the corrected angles (X, - ij),
(X, - x„), ... of a trigonometrical figure ; let
f_d£ dF
also let Ui, Mj symbols hitherto employed to represent the rela-
tive reciprocal weights of the observed angles Xi,X^, . . ., in future
represent absolute measures of precision, the p.c- of the observed
angles ; then the foUomug formula expresses the p.e, of any func-
tion of the corrected angles rigorously : —
' +[fa.u]{[fa.tc]A„ + [fb.u]Ai + ... + [fn.u]J„) \
+ [/b.u]il/a.u]£^ + [/b.u]Bi,+ ... + [fn.u]£,\ Lggj^
The symbols a, b, . . . n have the same signification as in (3) to
(6) of section 13. A, B, , . . If are coefficients ■nhich must be de-
termined in the process of solving the normal equations as follows : —
p.e.- o{ F
i + . . .+A„e„'\
\ = A^e^ + Ai,ei-i
■:J
.(21),
wnere the coefiicient represented by any two letters in one order
is identical with that represented by the same letters in the reverse
order; thus A„=JVa. Hence to find the^.e. of any angle, as(Xj-iCi),
in a single triangle we have
/i = l, and Aa
all the other factors vanish, and
p.e.'' of (Xj - Zj) = Uj -
'[aa.u] Uj + i/j + Uj'
=p.e.^ of Xi -p.e.' of x^.
«j + « J + tij
To find the7;.c. of the ratio R of either side to the base, — if
ii = sin (X, - a-j) -=- sin (Xj - x^),
then /i = iJ cot A', sin 1 , /„ = il cot X^ sin 1", /j = 0,
and p.e.' ot It
■D" ■ "I" f L-x- . ii^ ("iCotir,-«,cotX,)' ) ,„„,
=iS-sm-l {"iC°t-A. + ^,cot%-^ «, + «, + .,3 \(^-^)-
When the function of the corrected angles is the ratio
of the terminal to the initial side of an equilateral triangle
or a regular quadrilateral or polygon (either of two sides
being taken if the figure has an odd number of exterior
sides), then, assuming all the angles to be of equal weight,
we have the following values of the p.e. 's and the relative
weights of the ratios : —
Figiu-e. p.e. Weight. Figure. p.c. Weight
Triangle ±-'82V"sinr 1-49 Pentagon ±1-21V« sin 1" 0-68
QuadiUateral I'OO „ 1-00 Hexagon 1-29 ,, 0-60
Trigon 1-05 „ 0-90 Heptagon 1-41 „ 0-50
Tetragon ..'. 1'15 ,, 075 Octagon 1-57 „ 0-41
In ordinary ground seven single triangles will span about
as much as two hexagons and the weights of the terminal
sides would be as twenty-one by the former to thirty by
the latter." In a flat country two quadrilaterals would not
span more than one hexagon, giving terminal side weights
as five to sbc ; but in liiUa a quadrilateral may span as
much as any polygon and give a more exact side of con-
tinuation. Thus in the Indian Survey polygons predominate
in the plains and quadrilaterals La the Lulls.
The theoretical errors of the lengths and azimuths of
the sides, and of the latitudes and longitudes of the stations,
at tlie termini of the chains of triangles or at the circuit
closings, might be calculated with tbe coeflJcients a, b, and
c of X, y, and z in the circuit and base-line e«iuatious as
the /'s, and the known p.e.'s of X, Y, and Z and the
other data of the figural reductions. Such calculations
are, however, much too laborious to be ordinarily under-
taken. Thus the exactitude of a triangulation is very
generally estimated merely on the evidence of the magni-
tudes of the differences between the trigonometrical and
the uieasuied lengths of the base-lines; for, though the
combined influence of angular precision and geometrical
configuration is what really governs the precision of the
results, it is not reaxlily ascertainable, and is therefore
generally ignored. But, when que-'ions as to the intrinsic
value of a triaugulatioa arise, the theory of errors should
.(23).>
always be appealed to, and its Intimations accepted rather
than the evidence of base-line discrepancies, which if very
small are certainly accidental, and if seemingly large may
be no greater than what we should be prepared to expect.
Good work has occasionally been redone unnecessarily, and
inferior work upheld, becaiLse their merits were erroneously
estimated. The following formute will be found useful in
acquiriug a fairly approximate knowledge of the magnitude
of the errors which theory would lead us to expect, not
only in side, but in latitude, longitude, and azimuth also,
at the close of any chain of triangles. They indicate
rigorously the p.e.'s, at the terminal end of a chain of
equilateral triangles of which all the angles have been
measured and corrected and are of equal weight ; the
results may be made to serve for less symmetrical chains,
including networks of varying weight, by the application
of certain factors which can be estimated with fair pre-
cision in each instance.
Let c be the side length, e the p.e. of the angles, n the number
of triangles, and E the ratio (here=l) of the terminal to the
initial side, then
p.c. of E = e sin 1"^ VfTi
p.e. of azimuth =£\11i
p.e. of either coordinate = cc — ^ — W2n' + Sn' + I0n
When the form of the triangles deviates much from the equi-
angular, the p.c. must be multiplied by a factor increasing up to
1'4 as the angles diminish from 60° to 30°, and a mean value of c
must be adopted. When the chain is double throughout, the /i.e.
must be diminished by a factor taking cognizance of the greater
weight of compound figures than of single triangles. Wten the
chain is composed of groups of angles measured with different in-
struments, a separate value of e must be employed for each group,
and the final result obtained {Tom\/[p.e.-]. The p.e. of iJ may ba
determined rigorously for any chain of single triangles, with angles
of varying magnitudes and weights, by (22), with little labour of
calculation.
19. Relations between Theoretical Errors of Base-liw.i
and those of a Triangulation. — These relations have to be
investigated in order to ascertain whether the base-lines
may be assumed to be errorless in the general reduction of
the triangulation ; being fallible quantities, their errons
must be included among the unknown quantities to be in-
vestigated simultaneously, if their respective p.c.'% differ
sensibly, or if the p.e.'s of their ratios are not materiall}
smaller than those of the corresponding trigonometrical
ratios. By (23) the p.e. of the ratio of any two sides of an
equilateral triangle is « sin 1" n/2 -r 3 ; but the p.e. of the
ratio of two base-lines of equal length and weight is t; v/2,
where »; is the p.e. of either base-hne ; thus weight of trigo-
nometrical ratio : weight of base-line ratio : Z-rf' : t^ sin'^ 1",
or as 3:1 when « = ± 0"'3 and »; = ± 1'5 millionth parts,
which happens generally in the Indian triangulation.
But the chains between base-lines were always composed
of a large number of triangles, and the average weight of
the base-line ratios was about eleven times greater by the
direct linear measurements than by the triangulation, even
when all the unascertainable constant or accidental errors
— as from displacements of mark-stones — which might be
latent in the latter were disregarded. Moreover, the base-
lines were practically all of the same precision ; they were
therefore treated as errorless, and the triangulation was
made accordant with them.
If a base-hne .42) be divided at iJ and C into three
equal sections connected together bj- equilateral triangles,
and every angle has been measured with a p.e. = e, the
p.e. of any trigonomeirical ratio may be put = k.c sin 1",
K being a coeSicient which has two values for each ratio, —
the greater value when the triangulation has been carried
along one flank of the line, the smaller when along both
'■ For an investigation of these foimulse, see Appendix No. 3, voL >ii.
oi Account of Operations o/ G I eat Trigonom. Survei/j 1882.
TEIANGtTLATlON.]
SURVEYING
705
J9r* CD
flanJcs, as follows: — for ratio -j^, k= 1*41 and 1 ; for -v^,
AD AD
1-83 and l-2,i; for jg, 2-94 and 1-99; fo' -g^, 2-16 and
1"46. The values for the last two ratios show that, when
the length of a base-line is determined partly by measure-
ment and partly by triangulation, the p.e. is smallest if
the central section rather than an end section is measured.
If, with linear and angular p.e.'s as in the Indian
operations, a single section is measured once only, and the
lengths of the other sections are derived from it by trian-
gulation, the p.f. of the entire length will be greater -than
that of the whole line once measured ; it will be less if the
section is measured oftener than once and the mean taken.
20. Azimuth Observations in connexion with Principal
Triangulation. — Thes» were invariably determined by
measuring the horizontal angle between a referring mark
and a circumpolar star, shortly before and after elonga-
tion, and usually at both elongations in order to eliminate
the error of the sta.r's place. Systematic changes of "face"
and of the zero settings of the azimuthal circle were made
as in the measurement of the principal angles (§ 9) ; but
the repetitions on each zero were more numerous ; the
azimuthal levels were read and corrections applied to the
star observations for dislevelment. As already mentioned
(§ 17), the triangulation was not adjusted, in the course
of the final simultaneous reduction, to the astronomically
determined azimuths, because they are liable to be vitiated
by local attractions ; but the azimuths observed at about
fifty stations around tlie primary azimuthal station, which
■was adopted as the origin of the geodetic calculations, were
referred to that station, through the triangulation, for
comparison with the primary azimuth. A table was pre-
pared of the differences (observed at the origin - computed
from a distance) between the primary and the geodetic azi-
muths ; the differences were assumed to be mainly due to
the local deflexions of the plumb-line and only partially
to error in the triangulation, and each wa3 multiplied by
the factor
_ tangent of latitude of origin
tangent of latitude of comparing station '
in order that tho effect of the local attraction on the azi-
muth observed at the distant station — which varies with
the latitude and is = the deflexion in the prime vertical x
the tangent of the latitude — might be converted to what
it would have been had the station been situated in the
same latitude as the Origin. Each deduction was given
a weight, lu, inverse!^ proportional to the number of tri-
angles connecting the station \vith the origin, and the
most probable value of the error of'tho observed azimuth
at the origin was taken as
_[(observed - computed) p w]
M
(21);
the value of x thus obtained was - l"'l.
The formulas employed in the reduction of the azimuth
observations were as follows. In the spherical triangle
PZS, in which P is the pole, Z the zenith, and S the star,
the co-latitude PZ and the polar distance PS are known,
and, as the angle at /S is a right angle at the elongation,
the hour angle and the azimiith at that time are found
from the equations
cosP=tanP5'cotPZ,
The interval, ZP, between the time of any observation and
"that of the elongation being known, the corresponding azi-
muthal angle, hZ, between the two positions of the star
at the times of observation and elongation is given rigor-
ously by the folic vuue expression — tan ZZ
.- !! ^t^JZ f o5^
\' <:oLP<6ia/^/'ih/ !I + «n»/'i'cos"/'+soc"P5coLP8i'jS/'; ''
which is expressed as follows for logarithmic compntation-
iZ^-
hP
2
m tan ^cos- PS
l-n + l
ZP
where m = 2 sin^ -g- coeec 1", « = 2 sin'P^ sln^^, and
^ = cotPsin8i'; I, m, and n are tabulated.
21. Calculation of Height and Befraction.— Let A and B
(fig. 4) be any two points the nor-
mals at which meet at C, c.utting the
sea-level at;j and q; take Dq = Ap,
then BD is the difference of height;
draw the tangents Aa and Bb at A
and B, then aAB is the depression -^-J
oi B a.t A and bBA that of A at f^
B; join AD, then BD is deter-
mined from the triangle ABD.
The triangulation gives the dis-
tance between A and B at the sea-
level, whence pq = c; thus, putting
Ap, the height of A above tlie sea-
level, = ff, and pC = r,
AD=c(l+^-^) (26). Pig. 4.
Putting Da and Di for the actual depressions at A and B,
S for the angle at A, usually called the "subtended angle,"
and h for BD—
and
S=i{D,-Da) (27),
h=AD^ (28).
The angle at G being = 2>6 -)- Da, S may be expressed ho
terms of a single vertical angle and C when observations
have been taken at only one of the two points. C,
the " contained arc," = c ^ — cosec 1" in seconds. Putting
D'a and D'i for the observed vertical angles, and <^a, <t>b for
the amounts by which they are affected by refraction,
Da — D'a + '^a and Db = D'i + <l>i; i^d'and <^b may differ in
amount (see § 10), but as they cannot be separately ascer-
tained they are always assumed to be equal ; the hypo-
thesis is sufficiently exact for practical purposes when both
verticals have . been measured under similar atmospheric
conditions. The refractions being taken eqtial, the ob-
served verticals are substituted for the true in (27) to find
S, and the difference of height is calculated by (28) ; the
third term within the brackets of (26) is usually omitted.
The mean value of the refraction is deduced from the
formula
^=J{C-(Ca+X»'»)} (29).
An approximate value is thus obtained from the observa-
tions between the pairs of reciprocating stations in each
district, and the corresponding mean " coefiicient of refrac-
tion," <^-T- C, is computed for the district, and is employed
when heights have to be determined from observations at
a single station only. When either of the vertical angles
is an elevation - E must be substituted for D in the above
expressions.!
II. TkaVERSINO, as a basis for Sl7E%"EY. — RECTANGtrLAR
Sphekical Coordinates.
Traversing is a combination of linear and angular
measures in equal proportions ; the surveyor proceeds from
point to point, measuring the lines between them and at
> In topograpliicnl and levelling operations it is sometimes convenient
to apply small corrections to observations of tlie lieiglit for curvatiiro
and fffnictiou simultaneously. Putting d for tlio distance, r for tlio
earth's radius, and k for the coefficient of refraction, and ex]iresMng the
dintuncB and radius in miles and the correction to height iu feet, then
correction for curvature = 3d'': correction for refractions -|k#; oor-
2 - 4^'
rection for both — — - — .tP.
o
706
SURVEYING
[xEAVliKSLXO,
'each point the angle between the back and forward lines ;
he runs his lines as much as possible over level and open
ground, avoiding obstacles by working round them. The
system is well suited for laying down roads, boundary-
lines, and circuitous features of the ground, and is very
generally resorted to for filling in the interior details of
surveys based on triangulation. It has been largely em-
ployed in certain districts of British India, which had to
be surveyed in a manner to satisfy fiscal as well as topo-
graphical requirements ; for, the village being the adminis-
trative unit of the district, the boundary of every village
had to be laid down, and this necessitated the survey of
an enormous number of circuits. Moreover, the traverse
system was better adapted for the country than a network
of triangulation, as the ground was generally very flat and
covered with trees, villages, and other obstacles to distant
vision, and was also devoid of hills and other commanding
points of view. The principal triangulation had been
carried across it, but by chains executed with great diffi-
culty and expense, and therefore at wide intervals apart,
with the intention that the intermediate spaces should
be provided with points as a basis for the general topo-
graphy in some other way. A system of traverses was
obviously the best that could be adopted under the cir-
cumstances, as it not only gave all the village boundaries
but was practically easier to execute than a network of
minor triangulation.
Procedure of the ladian Survey. — ^The traverses are
eveoitfid in minor circuits following the periphery of each
village and in major circuits comprising groups of several
villages ; the fornjer are done with 4" to 6" theodolites
and a single chain, the latter with 7" to 10" theodohtes
and a pair of chains, which are compared frequently with
a standard. The main circuits are connected with every
station of the principal triangulation within reach. The
meridian of the origin is determined by astronomical
observations ; the angle at the origin between the meridian
and the next station is measured, and then at each of the
successive stations the angle between the immediately
preceding and following stations ; summing these together,
the "inclinations" of the lines between the stations to
the meridian of the origin are successively determined.
The distances between the stations, multiplied by the
cosines and sines of the inclinations, give the distance of
each station from the one preceding it, resolved in the
directions parallel and perpendicular respectively to the
meridian of the origin ; and the algebraical sums of these
quantities give the corresponding rectangular coordinates
of the successive stations relatively to the origin and its
meridian. The area included in any circuit is expressed
by the formula
area = half algebraical sum of products (x^ + xj (y, - yj) (30X
.»j, yj being the coordinates of the first, and x,, y^ those
of the second station, of every line of the traverse in suc-
cession round the circuit.
Of geometrical tests there are two, both applicable at
the close of a circuit : the first is angular, viz., the smn
of all the interior angles of the described polygon should
be equal to twice as many right angles as the figure has
sides, less four; the second is linear, viz., the algebraical
sum of the x coordinates and that of the y coordinates
should each be = 0. The astronomical test is this : at any
station of the traverse the azimuth' of a referring mark
may be determined by astronomical observations ; the in-
clination of the line between the station and the referring
■mark to the meridian of the origin is given by the traverse ;
the two should differ by the convergency of the meridians
of the station and the origin. In practice the angles of
the traverse are usually adjusted to satisfy their special
geometrical and astronomical tests in the first instance,
and then the coordinates of the stations are calculated!
and adjusted by corrections applied to the longest, that the
angles may be least disturbed, aa no further corrections
are given them.
Convergency of Meridians. — The exact value of theConven
convergence, when the distance and azimuth of the second B«"'^y
astronomical station from the first are known, is that of °!. ""'"'''
B-{tv + A) of equation (11); but, as the first term is *"""■
sufficient for a traverse, we have .
cosec 1"
convergency = a; tan X ,
substituting x, the coordinate of the second statiotTper-
pendicular to the meridian of the origin, for c sin J.
Adjustment of a System of Traverses to a Triangulation. — '.
The coordinates of the principal stations of a trigonometri-'
cal survey are usually the spherical coordinates of latitude'
and longitude ; those of a traverse survey are always rect-
angular, plane for a small area but spherical for a large,
one. It is often necessary, therefore, for purposes of
comparison and check at stations common to surveys of
both descriptions, to convert either rectangular coordi-
nates into latitudes and longitudes, or vice versa, in order
that the errors of traverses may be dispersed by proportion
over the coordinates of the traverse stations, if desired, or
adjusted in the final mapping. The latter is generally all
that is necessary, more particularly when the traverses are
referred to successive trigonometrical stations as origins,
as the operations are beiLg- extended, in order to prevent
any large accumulation of error. Similar conversions are
also frequently necessary in map projections. The method
of effecting them will now be indicated.
Transformation of Laiizvde and Longitude Coordinates Trausfo'
into Rectangular Spherical Coordinates, and mce versa. — Let '"^^°'"'
A and B be any two points, Aa the meridian
of A, Bh the parallel of latitude of B ; then
Ab, Bb will be their differences in latitude
and longitude ; from B draw BP perpendi-
cular to Aa; then AP, BP vAW be the rect-
angular spherical coordinates of i? relatively to ' .^
A. Put5P = .r,^P = y,thearc/'6 = v,andtheL< " Ffg. 5.
arc Bb, the difference of longitude, = <u ; also let X^, Aj, and
Ap be the latitudes of A, B, and the point P, pp the radius
of curvature of the meridian, and Vp the normal termin-
ating in the axis minor for the latitude Xp ; and let p,, be
the radius of curvature for the latitude |(A„-)- Xp). Then,
when the rectangular coordinates are given, we have,
taking A as the origin, the latitude of which is known
cxx)rdi-
natea.
Xp = Xa -h - cosec 1" ; ij = tan X„ cosec 1" ;
Pa ^P,fp
k3«-
Xj-Xo= — cosec l"-?j; w=— sec(X4 + J17) coaac 1"
Pn "f '
And, when the latitude and longitude are given, we have *
y=p„{X4-X„ + V,sinl" _^ j t**^'-
z= uKj, COS (Xj + J77) sin 1" 1
Graphic Method of Determining the Coordinates of an Un-
visked Point observed from Several Stations. — When a hill
peak or other prominent object has been observed from a
number of stations whose coordinates are already fixed,
the converging rays may be projected graphically, and from
an examination of their several intersections the most
probable position of the object may be obtained almost as
accurately as by calculations by the method of least squares,
^ In the Indian Survey, tables are employerl for these calculations
which give the value of 1" of am in feet on tho mer'dian, and ou each
purallel of latitude, at intervals of 5' apart ; also a o..rrespon Jing table
of arc-versiues (ffi) of spheroidal arcs of parallel (111/) 1° in length, from
which the arc-versines for shorter or longer arcs are obtained pro-
pcrtionally to the squares of the arcs ; z is taken as the difference of I
longitude converted into linear measure.
SURVEYING
707
■which are very laborious and out of place for the deter-
'mination of a secondary point. The following is a de-
scription of the application of this method to points on a
plane surface in the calculations of the Ordnance Survey.
Let Sj, So, . . . be stations whose rectangular coordinates,
aTj, a-j, . . . perpendicular, and y^, y^ . . . parallel, to the meri-
dian of the origin are given ; let a.^,'^^ ... be the bearings
— here the direction-inclinations with the meridian of the
origin — of any point P, as observed at the several stations;
and let -p be an approximate position of P, with coor-
dinates Xp, yp, as determined by graphical projection on
a district map or by rough calculation. Constnict a
diagram of" the rays converging around />, by taking a point
to represent p and drawing two lines through it at right
angles to each other to indicate the directions of north,
south, east, and west. Calculate accurately {yp - y^ tan Uj,
and compare with {xp - x-^ ; the difference ^vlll show how
far the direction of the ray from «j falls to the east or
west of p. Or calculate {xp - x^ cot a,, and compare with
(j/p-yi) to find how far the direction falls to the north or
south of p. Set off the distance on the con-esponding axis
of p, and through the point thus fixed draw the direction
ctjwithacom- N
mon protract-
or. All the
other rays
around jo may
be drawn inw ^
like manner;
they will in-
tersect each
other in a number of points,
the centre of which may be
adopted as the most prob-
able position of P. The co-
ordinates of P will then be
readily obtained from those
ci p+ the distances on the
meridianand perpendicular.
In the annexed diagrami
i(fig. 6) P is supposed to have been, observed from five sta-
tions, giving as many intersecting rays, (1, J), (3, 2), . . . ;
there are ten points of intersection, the mean position of
which gives the true position of P, the assumed position
being p. The advantages claimed for the method are
that, the bearings being independent, an erroneous bearing
may be redrawn without disturbing those that are correct;
similarly new bearings may be introduced without disturb-
ing previous work, and observations from a large number
of stations may be readily utilized, whereas, when calcula-
tion is resorted to, observations in excess of the minimum
number required are frequently rejected because of th6
labour of computing them.i
m. Levelldto.
Levelbng is the art of determining the relative Jieights
of points on the smfaco of the groupd as referred to a
hypothetical surface which cuts the direction of gravity
everywhere at right angles. "Wlien a line of instrumental
' levels is commenced at the sea-level, a scries of heights is
determined corresponding to what would be found by
perpendicular measurements upwards from the surface of
water communicating freely with tl.e sea in underground
channels ; thus the lino traced indicates a hypothetical
prolongation of the surface of the sea inland, which is
■everywhere conformable to the earth's curvature.
For fuller details and an application to spbcrical surfaces, sec
Account of the Graphic Method of the Ordnance Surrey, by J. O'Farrell,
IiODdon, 1886.
Fig. 6.
The trigonometrical determination of tlie relative heights
of points at known distances apart, by the measurements
of their mutual vertical angles, — as already described in
section I. — is a method of levelling. But the method to
which the term 'Mevelling " is always applied is that of
the direct detennination of the differences of height from
the readings of the lines at which graduated staves, held
vertically over the points, are cut by the horizontal plane
which passes through the eye of the observer. Each
method has its own advantages. The former is less accu-
rate, but best suited for the requirements of a general
geographical survey, to obtain the heights of all the more
prominent objects on the surface of the ground, whether
accessible or not. The latter may be conducted with
extreme precision, and is specially valuable for the deter-
mination of the relative levels, however minute, of easily
accessible points, however numerous, which succeed each
other at short intervals apart ; thus it is very generally
undertaken pari passu with geographical surveys, to furnish
lines of level for ready reference as a check on the accuracy
of the trigonometrical heights. In levelling with staves
the measurements are always taken from the horizontal
plane which passes through the eye of the observer ; but
the line of levels which it is the object of the op'frations to
trace is a curved line, everywhere conforming to tlie norma!
curvature of the earth's surface, and deviating more and
more from the plane of reference as the distance from the
station of observation increases. Thus, either a correction
for curvature (see footnote, page 705) must be applied to
every staff reading, or the instrument must be set up at
equal distances from the sta,ves ; the curvature correction,
being the same for each staff, will then be eliminated from
the difference of the readings, which vnW thus give the
true difference of level of the points on which the staves
are set up.
Levelling Is an essentially simple operation ; but, as it has to be
repeated very frequently in executing a long line of levels — say
seven times on an average in every mile — it must be conducted
with every precaution against errors of various kinds, instrumental
and personal, sojne accidental and tending to cancel each other,
others systematic and cumulative. Instrumental errors arise whei.
the visual axis of the telescope is not perpendicular to the axis of
rotation, and when the focusing tube does not move truly parallel
to the visual axis on a change of focus. The first error is eliminated,
and the second avoided, by placing the instrument at equal dis-
tances from the staves ; and, as tliis procedure has also the advan-
tage of eliminating the corrections for both -curvature and refraction,
it should invariably be adopted. Errors of staff readings should ba
guarded against by having the staves graduated on both faces, but
differently figured, so that tlu: observer may not be biassed to repeat
an error of the first reading in the second. The staves of the Indian
survey have one face painted white with black divisions — feet,
tenths, and hundredths — from 0 to 10, the other black with white
divisions from 5 '65 to 15 '55. Deflexion from horiiontality may
either be measured and allowed for by taking the readings of tho
endsof the bubble of the spirit-level and applyuig corresponding cor-
rections to the staff readings, or be eliminated by setting tho bubble
to the same position on its scale at the reading of the second staff
as at that of tho first, both being equidistant from the observer. ~
Certain orrors are liable to retur in a constant order and to
accumulate to a considerable magnitu(]et though they may be too
minute to attract notice at any single station, as when the work
is carried on under a uniformly sinknig or rising refraction — from
morning to midday or from midday to evening — or when the instru-
ment takes some lime to settle down on its bearings after being set
up for obiiervation. They may be eliminated (i.) by alternating the
order of observation of the staves, taldng tho back staff first at one
station and the forward first at the' next ; (ii. ) by working in k
circuit, or returning over the same lino back to the origin ; (iii.)
by dividing a lino into sections and reversing the direction o(
operation in alternate sections. Cumulative error, not eliminable
by woi'king in a circuit, may be caused when there is much northing
or southing in tho direction of tho line, for then the sun's lipht
will often fall endwise on tho bubble of tho level, illuminating
the outer edge of the rim at the nearer end and the inner edge at
the further end, and so biassing tho observer to lake scale reoilings
of edges which aro not equidistant from the centra of tho bubble ;
this introduce* a tendency to raise the south or detircss the north
708
SURVEYING
[lNTEEIO»;
«nds of lines oj level in tlie norttem hemispliere. On long lines,
the employment of a second observer, working independently over
the same ground as the first, station by station, is very desirable.
The great lines are usually carried over the main roads of the country,
a number of "bench marlcs" being fixed for future reference. In the
Oidnance Survey of Great Britain lines have been carried across from
coast to coast, in such a manner that the level of any common cross-
ing point may bo found by several independent lines. Of these
points there are 166 in England, Scotland, and Wales ; the dia-
crepancies met with at them were adjusted simultaneously by the
method of minimum squares.
Sea-Level. — Tlie sea-level is the natural datum plane for
levelliug operations, more particularly in countries border-
ing on the ocean. The earliest surveys of coasts were made
for the use of navigators, and, as it was considered very
important that the charts should everywhere show the
jminimum depth of water which a vessel would meet with,
low water of spring-tides was adopted as the datum. But
this does not answer the requirements of a land survey,
because the tidal range between extreme high and low water
differs greatly at different points on coast^lines. Thus the
generally adopted datum plane for land surveys is the
mean-sea level, which, if not absolutely uniform all the
■world over, is much more nearly so than low water. Tidal
observations have been taken at nearly fifty points on the
coasts of Great Britain, which were connected by levelling
operations ; the local levels of mean sea were found to differ
by larger magnitudes than could fairly be attributed to
errors in the lines of level, having a range of 12 to 15
inches above or below the mean of all at points on the open
coast, and more in tidal rivers.^ But the general mean of
the coast stations for England and Wales was practically
identical with that for Scotland. The observations, how-
ever, were seldom of longer duration than a fortnight, which
ia insufficient for an exact determination of even the short
period components of tha tides, and ignores the annual and
semi-ennual components, which occasionally attain con-
siderable magnitudes. The mean-sea levels at Port Said
in the Mediterranean and at Suez in the Red Sea have
teen found to be identical, and a similar identity is said
to exist in the levels of the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans
on the opposite coasts of the isthmus of Panama. This is
in favour of a uniform level all the world over ; but, on
the other hand, lines of level carried across the continent
of Europe make the mean-sea level of the Mediterranean at
Marseilles and Trieste from 2 to 5 feet below that of the
North Sea and the Atlantic at Amsterdam and Brest, — a
result which it is not easy to explain on mechanical prin-
ciples. In India various tidal stations on the east and
west coasts, at which the raean-sea level has been deter-
mined from several years' observations, have been connected
by lines of level run along the coasts and across the conti-
nent ; the differences between the results were in all cases
due vnih greater probability to error generated in levelling
over lines of great length than to actual differences of sea-
level in different localities.
The sea-level, however, may not coincide everywhere
with the geometrical figure which most closely represents
the earth's surface, but may be raised or" lowered, here
and there, under the influence of local and abnormal at-
tractions, presenting an equipotential surface — an ellipsoid
or spheroid of revolution slightly deformed by bumps
and hollows — which Bruns calls a "geoid." Archdeacon
Pratt has shown that, under the combined influence of
the positive attraction of the Himalayan Mountains and
the negative attraction of the Indian Ocean, the sea-level
' In tidal estuaries and rivers the mean-water l"vel rises above the
mean-sea level as the distance from the open const-liDe increases ; for
instance, in the Uooghiy river, passing Calcutta, there is a rise of 10
inchde in 42 niilca l^twctu Sr.gar (Saugor) Island at the mouth of the
river and Diamond Harbour, and a further rise of 20 inches In iS miles
tKtweeQ Diamond Harbour and Kidderpur,
may be some 560 feet higher at Kurrachee than at Capo'
Comorin ; but, on the other hand, the Indian pendulana
operations have shown that there is a deficiency of density
under the Himalayas and an increase under the bed of tl»«
ocean, which may wholly compensate for the excess of tha
mountain masses and deficiency of the ocean, and leavo
the surface undisturbed. If any bumps and hollows ozkti
they cannot be measured instrumentally ; for the instro*
mental levels will be affected by the local attractions pre-
cisely as is the sea-level, and will thus invariably show"
level surfaces even should there be considerable deviati"-j
from the geometrical figure,
IV. Survey op Interior Detail,
(1) General Principles. — We have seen that the skeleton
framework of a survey may be either a triangulation or a.
system of traverses ; very generally it is a combination of
both. The method of filling in the details is necessarily
influenced to some extent by the nature of the framework,
but it depends mainly on the magnitude of the scale anil
the requisite degree, of minutiae. In all instances the
principal triangles and circuit traverses have to be broken
down into smaller ones, to furnish a sufficient number ol
fixed points and lines for the subsequent operations. Thn
filling in may be performed wholly by linear measurements
or wholly by direction intersections, but is most frequently
effected by both linear and angular measures, the former
taken with chains and tapes and offset poles, the lattel
with small theodolites, sextants, optical squares, or othet
reflecting instruments, magnetised needles, prismatic com- •
passes, and plane tables. When the scale of a survey ia
large, the linear and angular measures are usually recorded
on the spot in a field-book and afterwards plotted'in ofiicei
when small they are sometimes drawn on the spot on a
plane table and the field-book is dispensed with.
(2) The Scale. — In every country the scale is generally
expressed by the ratio of some fraction or multiple of th»
smallest to the largest national units of length, but some-
times by the fraction which indicates the ratio of the length
of a line on the p-^per to that of the corresponding linfc
on the ground. The latter form is obviously preferable
being international and independent of the various units
of length adopted by different nations. See table of
maps and scales under Map, vol. xv. p. 522. In th»
Ordnance Survey of Great Britain and Ireland both
forms of expression are adopted, the smaller scales being
1 inch and 6 inches to a mile for provinces and countie%
the larger ^-jVij- for parishes and -g^ for towns,
the Indian Sui-vey the standard topographical scale
inch to a mile, diminishing to \ and \ inch for geographical
reconnaissance, and rising by multiples of 2 to highei
scales, of which the greatest, for other than city surveys, ia
32 inches, for cadastral purposes. In both surveys the
double imit of the foot and the Gunter's link ( = y;nr'''i of
a foot) is employed, the former invariably in the triangu-
lation, the latter very generally in the traversing and filling
in, because of its convenience in calculations and measure*
ments of area, a square chain of 100 Gunter's links being
exactly one-tenth of an acre.
(3) Ordnance Survaj Methods. — ^11 linear measures are .mada
with the Gunter's chain, all angular with small theodolites only ;\
neither magnetized nor reflecting instruments nor plane tablest
are ever employed, except in hiU sketching, when hearings are
taken with the prismatic compass. As a rule the filling in is dona
by triangle-chaining only ; traverses with theodolite and chain aro
occasionally resorted to, but only when it is necessary to work round
woods and hill tracts ucross which right lines cannot be carried.
(a) Detail Surveying by Triangles.— Tins is based on the pointa
of the minor triangulation. The sides are first cliained perfectly
straight, all the points where the lines of interior detail cross, the
sides being fixed ; the alignment is effected with a small theodolite,'
and marks are established at the crossing points and at any othen
Ji
DETAIL.]
SURVEYING
709
Domts on the sides where they may be of use in the suhsequent
Wio°s. The surveyor is given a diagram of the triangu a .on
bTt no side lengths, as the tccuracy of his chaining is tested by
i^parison with the trigonometrical values. Then straight lines
STclrried across the int°rmediate detail between the points estab-
lished on the sides ; they constitute the principal '"ttjnS "P "
^Ut lines"; their crossings of detail are marked in turn and
X ght lines are run between them. The process is continued imtU
fsuffieient number oflines and marks have been established oa
the ground to enable all houses, roads, fences, streams, railways,
canals, rivers, boundaries, and other detaU to be convenient y
measured up to and fixed. Perpendicilar ofl^sets are limitea to
eighty and twenty links for the respective scales of 6 inches to a
'^b)^J)dail Suroeying hj Traverses.— Vnien a considerable area has
to be thus treated it is divided into a number of blocks of con-
lenient si^e, bounded by roads, rivers, or parish^ boundaries, and a •
"traverse on the meridian of the origin" is earned round the peri-
phery of each block. Commencing at a trigonometrical station,
the theodoUte is set to circle reading 0° 0' with the telescope point-
ing to the north, and at every " forward" station of the traverse
the circle is set to the same reading when the telescope is pointed
»t the "back" station as was obtained at the back station when
the telescope was pointing to the forward one. When the circuit
is completed and the theodolite again put up at the origin and
eet on the last back station with the appropriate circle reading,
the circle reading, with the telescope again pointed to the hist
forward station, will be the same as at first, if no error has been
committed. This system establishes a convenient check on tfie
•ccuracy of the operations and enables the angles to be readily pro-
tracted on a system of lines parallel to the meridian of the origin.
As a further check the traverse is connected with all contiguous
trit'onometrical stations by measured angles and distances, ira-
verses are frequently carried between the points ah-eady fixed on
the sides of the minor triangles; the initial side is then adopted,
Wstead of the meridian, as the axis of coordinates for the plotting,
he telescope being pointed with circle reading 0 0 to either ol
lie trigonometrical stations at the extremities of the side.
(c) Plotting and Examination.— The plotting is done from the
3ld.books of the surveyors by a separate agency. Its accuracy
itested by examination on the ground, when all necessary addenda
B made. The examiner— who should be both surveyor, plotter,
\d draftsman— mounts the plot on his sketching block, and
trifles the accuracy of the detail by intersections and productions
and occasional direct measurements, and generally endeavours to
cause the detaUs under examination to prove the accuracy of each
other rather than to obtain direct proof by remeasureraent. He fixes
conspicuous trees and delineates the woods, footpaths, rocks, preci-
pices, steep slopes, embankments, &c., and supphes the requisite
Miformation regarding minor objects— whether pit, shaft, level,
sprinf, well, conduit, weir, quarry, refuse heap, waste, orchard, stacK-
vard,°railway, canal, manufacturing and mineral works, viaducts,
bridges, tramways, plantations, &c.— to enable a draftsman to make
a pe°fect representation according to the scale of the map. In
«xaniinin<' a coast-line he delineates the foreshore and sketches the
strike and dip of the stratified rocks. In tidal rivers he ascertains
and marks the highest points to which the ordinary tides How.
The examiner on the 25-344 inch scale (=Ttini) is required to give
all necessary information regarding the parcels of ground ot dillcr-
cnt character— whether arable, pasture, wood, moor, moss, sandy
^efininf the limits of each on a separate tracing if necessary.
He has also to distinguish behveen turnpike, parish, and occupa-
tion roads, to collect all names, and to furnish notes of military,
baronial and ecclesiastical antiquities to enable them to be ap-
propriately represented in the hnal maps. The latter are sub-
iected to a double examination,-first in the office, secondly on the
tround ; they arc then handed over to the officer in charge of the
levellin'T to have the levels and contour lines inserted, and finally
to the lull sketchcrs, whoso duty it is to make an artistic representa-
tion of the features of the ground. _ . , , ,
(4) Indian Survey Methods.— All filling in is invariably done
>y plane-tabling on a basis of points previously fixed ; the method.s
.differ simply in the extent to which linear measures are introduced
to supplement the direction rays of the plane table. When the
scale of t: 3 survey is small, direct measurements of distance are
rarely made and the filling is usually done wholly by direction
intersections, which fix all the principal points, and byeyc-skotching ;
but as the scale is increased linear measures with chains and oUsct
poles are introduced to the extent that may bo desirable. A sheet
of drawing paper is mounted on cloth over the face of the piano
table ; the points, previously fixed by triangulation or otherwise,
are. projected on it — the collateral meridians and parallels, or
the rectanTular coordinates, when these are more convenient for
employment tlian the spherical, having first been drawn ; the
plane table is then ready for use. Operations arc commenced at
a. fixed point by aligning with the sight rule on another faxc.l
ouint, which brings the meridian line of the tablo on that oT
the station. The magnetic needle may now be placed on the table
and a position assigned to it for future reference. Raj'S are drawn
from the station point on the table to all conspicuous objects
around with the aid of the sight rule. The table is then taken to!
other fixed points, and the process of ray-drawing is repeated at
each ; thus a number of objects, some of which may become availabl*
as stations of observation, are fixed. Additional stations may b«
established by setting up the tablo on a ray, adjusting it on tht
back station — that from which the ray was drawn — and then ob-
taining a cross intersection with the sight rule laid on some other
fixed point, also by interpolating between three fixed points situated
around the observer. The magnetic needle may not be relied on
for correct orientation, but is of service in enabling the table to ba
set so nearly true at the outset that it has to be very slightly
altered afterwards. The error in the setting is indicated by the rays
from the surrounding fixed points intersecting in a small triangle
instead of a point, and a slight change in azimuth suffices to reduce
the triangle to a point, which will indicate the position of the station
exactly. Azirauthal error being less apparent on short than oa
long lines, interpolation is best performed by rays drawn from neaf
points, and cheeked by rays drawn to distant points, as the latter
show most strongly the magnitude of any error of the primary
magnetic setting. In this way, and by self-verificatory traverses
"on the back ray" between fixed points, plane-table stations are
established over the ground at appropriate intervals, depending on
the scale of the survey ; and from these stations all surrounding
objects which the scale permits of being shown are laid donn on
the table, sometimes by rays only, sometimes by a single ray and a
measured distance. The general configuration of the ground is
delineated simultaneously. mi/-,, ww.
Cheeking and Examination. —Various methods are followed. ChccM^
For large scale work in plains it is customary to run arbitrary lines and
across it and make an independent survey of the belt of gi-ound to ezaaii
a distance of a few chains on either side for comparison with the Uo».,
original survey ; the smaller scale hiU topography is checked by
examination from commanding points, and also by traverses run
across the finished work on the table.
V. Repeesentation of Geotjnd.
The master lines of ground are the main ridges and M«i4 ^
water-partings of the hUls, the -n-atercourses, and the horr ^^
zontal contour lines of the coasts; the subordinate lines'*
are those which define the undulations and minor fcaturea
falling between the low-lying plains and the crests of tha
hills. These lines must first be laid down on a horizontal
projection to fix the dimensions of each feature of tha
ground, after which the slopes must be indicated with
sufficient relief and character to present a true picture of
the corrugations of surface. In ancient maps the hills arc.
represented as seen against the sky in profile by a spectator
standing on the aground below at some distance otT. ihis
system of " natural representation," as it was called, waa
serviceable in enabling persons looking at the hills fronv
the quarter from which they bad been sketched to identify
them readily, for which reason such views of distant inland
hills are still commonly given on tho margins of marine
charts of coast-lines for the assistance of navigators. But,
when all other objects except the hills are shown in a uiai*
by their horizontal projections, hills represented in perspec-
tive are false to their surroundings, and misleading lo all
who approach them from other directions than that ot tho
adopted point of view, for the vertical projection of ho
profile is practically turned over and confused with tho
horizontal plane. Hence in course of time hills came to bo
drawn as if seen from a high bird's-eye point of view, the
position of which was shifted until at last the point of sight
was supposed to be vertically over them ; thus the cvi s of i
the perspective system were diminished, whilst somcth ,.g
of natural representation was still preserved. About tlio
end of the 18th century tho perspective and tho b'rds.cyo
systems gave way to tho true. method of indicating tlio
forms of hills, viz., by their horizontal projections, like aU
the other details of the ground, and by adding the reqmsito.
shading to bring every feature into proper relief. ,
Uill.Skading.-Tl'^r^ are two rival methods of hill- had-
ing,_one by horizontal contours, the other by vcdi^
hachures. A contour being the line of intersection of a hJl
710
SURVEYING
[eepe esent ation
Bcale of
shade.
by a horizontal plane,, contour lines indicate the markings
which would be made by the successive risings of a flood
to different levels above the sea;. vertical hachures indicate
the directions which the particles of a volume of water,
equally disseminated over the top of a hiU, would naturally
take in running down the sides and slopes. The most
perfect representation of ground is obtained when the
shade lines, whether horizontal or vertical, are sufficiently
close and well graduated in tone and intensity to imitate
good mezzotint shading in Indian ink. A good effect
may be aid is frequently produced by assuming light to
fall on the hills obliquely from a specific direction, illumi-
natiiig them on one side and throwing the reverse slopes
into shadow. But this has the disadvantage of giving
similar slopes different intensities of shade according to
their position with reference to the assumed direction of
the light ; on the other hand, vertical lighting, which gives
the same intensity to the same slope wherever situated,
fails in relief and perspicacity. A commission of citizens
appointed by the republican Government of France in
1803 to formulate rules on the subject of topography, con-
demned the representation of hills in demi -perspective
as absurd, but approved the system of oblique side-light ;
it also condemned contours, except for engineering works,
and recommended vertical hachures, under the idea that the
jslope lines of tho fall of water represent a material effect
of which the eye is witness every moment, and recalls the
general cause, if not of the formation, at least of the figure
and characteristics, of the mountains.
Scale of Shade. — For military purposes it is very desir-
able that^maps should be so drawn as to enable the angles
of inclination of all slopes to be readily ascertained, -n-ith
a view to determining what portions of the ground are
suited for the manoeuvres of each of the three arms, — infan-
try, cavalry, and artillery. Thus military topographers
of different nationalities have proposed a variety of scales
to regulate the thickness and distance apart of the shade
lines, and generally the proportion of black to white, for
different angles of slope, that "the map may convey to the
mind as accurate a knowledge of the slopes of the ground
as of the horizontal outlines. AU slopes, however, are not
of equal practical importance, but only those which are of
most common occurrence and most liable to be gone over
by men and horses and wheeled vehicles, and their inclina-
tion rarely exceeds 2.5° ; consequently it is of most import-
ance to be able to distinguish variations of slope below
that angle : it is occasionally desirable to know the sharper
slopes up to 45° or 50°, but greater inclinations are com-
paratively of rare' occurrence and unimportant. Now in
a true scale of shade the intensity increases with the in-
clination from 0° to 90°; thus, putting black -1- white = 1,
the proportion of black to white for any inclination i by a
scale of cosines will be black = 1 - cos i, white = cos i. But
that scale does not sufficiently accentuate the lower in-
clinations, which are the most important, and have there-
fore to be dealt with more emphatically; this has led to the
introduction of a variety of conventional scales, each with
the special characteristics which commended themselves to
its author. Major Lehmann of the German army supposed
light to be admitted in parallel vertical rays and gave the
horizontal plane the fullest light, because the reflected
coincides with the vertical ray ; at an inclination of 45°
the reflected ray is perfectly horizontal, and this slope was
therefore least illumined. Disregarding all greater slopes,
he placed 45° at the head of his scale and represented it by
absolute black ; the scale was divided into nine equal parts
of 6° each, from 0° to 45°, up to which the illumination
varies inversely as the angle of inclination. General
van Gorkum of the Netherlands army improved on
Lehmann's system : he adopted certain groups of contours
arranged according to the slope, making the vertical
distances between the contours equal in each group but
greater in the higher groups, and between the contours he
drew vertical hachures the lengths of which showed by
reference to a scale the angles of slope. His lowest group
included all angles up to 25°, the vertical distance between
the contours being so regulated with reference to the scale
of the map as to permit the draftsman to represent the
slopes without inconveniently long hachures. For highea
angles he doubled and trebled the vertical interval of his
contours and the thickness of his hachures. Thus the
relative altitudes of any required points might be deduced
with comparative facility by noting the thickness and
counting the number of the vertical hachures between
them. In this respect the system satisfies the require-
ments of a military map, but the effect is unpleasing and
unsuggestive of hill forms. In 1828 a second French com-
mission, having Laplace for its president, was appointed to
report on topographical drawing. It reversed the decision
of the first commission in favour of oblique side light, as
being diflicult to execute and inaccurate in giving different^
intensities to the same angles of slope facing differertly ;
and, after trying various scales of shade, it determined to
increase the intensity in proportion to the sines of double
the angles of inclination diminished by -i-, which gives a'
more rapid increase of shade for the gentle than the
steep slopes. In subsequent instructions of the "depot de
la guerre" the proportion of black to white is fixed at one
and a half times the angle of slope. In England various
scales of shade have been proposed, by Colonel Scott and
Captain Webber of the Eoyal Engineers, and by the
Council of Military Education. Colonel Scott's scale is
interesting as having been derived from the average of
measurements taken from the best examples of hill sketch-
ing in the Ordnance and other surveys, whereas all the
others were deduced from a conventional application of
geometrical principles. The following table (III.) gives the
several scales : —
Talle shovdng the Proportion of Black to White on any Unit of
Area, in Horizontal Plan.
A.g.e
Slope.
Scale of
Major
First
Second
Colonel
Captah)
Council
of MiU-
Ccsines.
Lehmann.
French.
French.
Scott.
Webber.
tary Edu-
cation.
B.
W.
B.
W.
B.
w.
B.
w.
B.
W.
B.
W.
B.
W.
90"
1-000
■000
..
45"
•293
•707
vm
o^bbo
■600
•400
■675
■!i25
•708
■292
■803
■197
35'
■ISl
•SI 9
•780
•220
■.512
•48S
■425
■575
■72-(
■276
■640
•360
26'
•094
•906
•560
•440
■380
•620
■375
■625
•339
■661
■550
■460
■457
•643
20*
•080
•940
•450
■650
■350
•650
■300
■700
•256
■745
■455
■545
■333
•667
15*
•034
•066
•340
•660
■2S6
•714
■225
■775
•189
■sn
■338
■662
•254
•746
10'
•015
•9S5
•230
■770
•209
•791
■150
■S50
■126
■874
■■250
■750
•160
•840
7°
•007
•993
•155
•845
•155
•846
■105
■895
■083
■917
■173
■827
6°
•004
•996
•120
•S60
•no
•890
■075
■925
■055
■945
■108
■892
•032
•918
4"
•002
■998
•077
•923
•095
•905
■060
■940
■049
■951
■065
■935
S'
•001
•999
•066
•934
•073
■927
■045
•955
■038
■962
■033
■967
•047
•953
2-
•001
•999
•044
•956
■050
■950
•030
■970
025
■975
■014
■986
•026
•975
Of late years the system of shading by lines has been Mezzfr
abandoned for the English army, and a method of repre- tint •
senting slopes by mezzotint shading over a few governing ^oadinj
contour lines, laid down by actual survey, has been intro-
duced instead. The effect aimed at is a transparent
shade, dark in proportion to the steepness of the ground
represented ; its object is to give body and expression
to the contours and to explain and develop minor features
of the ground which may lie between them. This style
of shading, being distinct from all line dra'wing, may be
applied over the most crowded details ■without causing
confusion, such as would be produced by hachure shad-
ing. The contours are indicated by continuous red lines
of constant thickness, strong enough to be everywhere
■visible through the shading, which is effected by applying
lead with a soft pencil over the parts where it is wantec^
and then rubbing it in firmly with a piece cf chamoii
OF OEOtJNI).]
SURVEYING
leather folded into a cnidl'patL No pencil marking is
allowed; lightening is done with india-rubber ; the shading
is finally fixed with a wash of thin gum-water.
It is to be noted that the several scales of shade above
given were devised for military maps to be drawn on a
scale of not less than 4 inches to the mile and possibly
much greater. The harshness and mannerism to which
all line-shading by rule is liable are of less importance in
maps of small areas represented on large scales than on
maps of large areas on small scales. In the former the
sacrifice of pictorial eflfect is more than compensated by the
additional information regarding the slopes of the ground ;
in the latter any attempt to introduce' so much informa^
tion woiild tend to crowd the map objectionably, and con-
fiise the vertical with the horizontal details. The smaller
the scale of a map of hill country the more necessary it is
to abandon » mechanical conventionalism, and to aim at
achieving an artistic representation which will convey an
immediate and accurate impression of the general character
of the ground.
In India the topography has heen mainly executed on scales of
or less than 1 inch = l mile and rarely exceeding 2 inches, and, as
the range of altitude varies considerably in different parts of the
country, from plains and undulations little above the sea-level to
piountains rising to an altitude of 29,000 feet, scales of shade
were long deemed wholly unsuitable for employment. The higher
mountains had necessarily to be brought into prominence over the
lower by giving them a darker, shade than was due simply to their
slopes, and similarly the elevated plateaus had to be more lightened
and illuminated than the low-lying plains. But in course of time,
as the number of hands employed in the operations increased more
rapidly than the available supply of artistic draughtsmen, the in-
troduction of a scale of shade became necessary, in order that the
multitude of workers might be put more nearly on a par with the
few. For men who have been accustomed to associate a certain
depth of shade with a certain angle of slope will work together
within narrower limits of error and divergence than if left entirely
to their own unaided judgment and untutored proclivities. The
field sketchers should therefore learn to work on a system which
gives every hachure line a definite meaning, so that their sketches
may be rightly interpreted and appropriately translated and ren-
dered in the final representation of the ground, when it is the duty
of the draughtsman to enhance the tone of the map as mnch a^
possible whue maintaining its truthfulness,
ird- Ordnance Survey System of Delineating Ground. — As a rule the
ance features of the ground are sketched in the field on the 6-inch
urvey, scale, and afterwards reduced and published on the 1-inch scale.
elinea- The Highlands of Scotland were sketched partly on the 1-inch and
ion of partly on the 2-inch scale; in Ireland the 1-inch scale only was
round, used ; and this scale is how being adopted for hill sketching in
England and WaJea In the parts where the 6-inch scale was used
the ground was first contoured instrumentally ; a plan of the con-
tours and of all surveyed outlines was supplied to the sketcher,
who proceeded to insert the hiU features with the aid of a prismatic
compass, protractor, plotting scale, and a " hill-sketcher's scale,"
graduated to show the horizontal intervals between the contours
which correspond to various angles of inclination from 0° to 45°. He
was required to delineate slopes up to 45° by horizontal hachures, and
slopes beyond 45° by vertical hachures. The thickness and number
of the strokes, tKe relation to light and shade, and the character of
the touch were left to the skul and experience of the sketcher.
The introduction of scales of shade adapted to various inclinations
and altitudes was frequently mooted, with a view to securing greater
uniformity ; but no such scale was adopted, for it was found that,
though at first different workmen produced different results, long
practice and constant comparison, together with the aid derived
from the instrumental contours, efTected all desirable uniformity.
Thus in good sketches it was found that the maximum breadth of
stroke used in tho representation of very steep mountain slopes was
^ inch, and the minimum used in low and nearly flat country,
i-Jir inch, also that the average proportions of light to shade wore
1 to 3 at tho maximum and 25 to 1 at tho minimum inclinations.
Jn tho field sketches the light is supposed to fall vertically, and
all slopes of like altitude and inclination are similarly expressed.
[The 6-inch, sketches aro reduced to tho 1-inch scale for publica-
lion by an artist working with Indian ink and tho camel-hair
brush on an impression in outline of tho 1-inch reap. He makes
a careful study of tho several sketches which ho has to combine
together, in order to determine which leaturcs should be retained
and which omitted in the reduction, and be divides the ground
jlato zoni'i of different altitude to guide him in giving a strcn((th of
■hade v.-ovorr<ou"<; ta the aUit-Jo ratksr tiuu to iLu siope as in
711
the Held sketches ; and in drawing bo increases tho contrasts be-
tween light and shade and introduces light from a comer of tho
map to give a stronger relief, and to attract the eye to the highest
points and enable it to distinguish readily the liigher from the
lower ground. His general aim is to produce a more pictorial and
less mechanical study of the ground than is supplied by the field
sketches. Many exquisite maps have been thus produced and
afterwards engraved ; see sheets 32, 33, 88, 63, and 64 of Scotland
38 and 48 of England, 75 of Wales, 93, 94, 191, and 192 of Irel.md.'
These sheets, however, though admirable specimens of engraving,
fall short of the original drawings in tone and relief, for in them
the hill-shading is necessarily sho(vn by liue-etchiiig, and it does not
produce such effective contrasU and gradations of light and shade
as the original brush work.'
Delineation by Instrumental Ccmtouring. — A very precise
knowledge of the configuration of surface may be acquired
by carrying true contour lines over the ground and pro-
jecting them on the map of the survey. But the contours
do not give a true representation of the ground, for they
seldom represent actual lines on tho surface, as do the
lines on the map which indicate roads, watercourses,
walls, enclosures, &c. ; they give, however, a conventional
representation which is sufiicient per se for the engineer
and the expert, and they furnish guiding lines for all
shading, whether by hachures or mezzotint, which may
be subsequently executed to produce an artistic delinea-
tion of the features of the ground. In instrumental con-
toiu-ing we have first to decide on the vertical intervals
to be maintained between the contours. They depend on
the scale of the survey and the nature of the ground. In
the Ordnance Survey they are made as small as from 5 to
10 feet, when special plans on large scales are being pre-
pared for engineering requirements ; but for the general
maps they are 50 feet up to an elevation of 1 00 feet above
the sea-level, and 100 beyond up to 900 feet, which elevar
tion, being the practical limit of cultivation, is the highest
generally marked, though in the northern counties of Eng-
land and in parts of Scotland additional contours have been
executed at the altitudes of 1000, 12.50, 1500, 1750, 2000,
2500, 3000, &c., feet. The intervals having been deter-
mi.ned on, instrumental levelling is commenced ,at either
the top or the bottom of those slopes which best define the
general lay of the ground, or at som6 previously established
bench mark of which the height above the sea is known.
Points are marked out on the slopes with pickets at the
prescribed vertical intervals, and then the contour lines of
the horizontal planes passing in succession through each of
these points are traced with a levelling instrument and
staff and surveyed by traverse, the two processes being
performed either simultaneously or consecutively as may
be most convenient.
The instruments generally used in the Ordnance Survey are a
5-inch theodolite — employed as a levelling instrument — and aeon-
touring staff, 8 feet long, provided with a sliding vane which may
be fi.\ed at any required height ; the staff is shifted about until tho
vane is brought iuto the horizontal piano of the theodolite, «lien
the bottom of tho staff will be on the contour line. A serviceable
contouring instrument of very simple construction is tho wattr-
level, which consists of a pair of transparent phials partially filled
with water ; tho phials are placed upside down at the ends of a
hollow bar fbted on a rotatory vertical axis, and have their mouths
connected with piping of any available material, — brass, tin, or
gutta-percha. Tlie water in both phials is in free communication,
and the water surfaces indicate the horizontal piano naturally,
without any mechanical contrivance. The instrument is well suited,
for short sights not requiring a telescope, and may bo readily mani-
pulated by persons ignorant of the use of instruments of a higher
class. Eye-reflecting levfls, clinometers, orometers, and other light
instruments, which may bo held in tho hand and do not require
a fixed support, are frequently employed for interpolating minor
between major contours. In military sketching on largo .scalei
hypothcnusal inclinations and lengths arc sometimes measured ;
the bases and perpendiculars aro deduced on the spot from a table
■ With certain exceptions, principally of a military nature, tho bil)
features aro now sketched ou tlio Mnch scale, on photojjrapliio reduo^
tloiu of tliii fi.inch contoured sheets, faintly printed ia or»uge colotts
us u i;uia« to t2i« fVetcbnrs.
712
SURVEYING
Lreconnaissance.'
of gradients ; and thee the contour lines, and the orthogonala also
if reijuired, are laid down.
VI. Geographicai, Reconnaissance.
When a traveller passes through an uDLknown or little
known region the opportunity afforded him of acquiring
some new geographical knowledge depends largely on the
configuration and aspects of the ground, the condition of
the atmosphere, the attitude of the inhabitants, and the
time available. If hiUs are numerous and prominent and
free from forest, and other conditions are favourable, a
large area may be covered in a short time by reconnaissance
from the stations of a chain of triangles carried along the
line of route, fixing points in advance, some, of which be-
come stations of observation whence further points are
fixed ; and thus the continuity of the operations is main-
tained. But the ground may be flat and devoid of pro-
minent points, the view circumscribed by forests and other
obstacles, the atmosphere dense and unfavourable for distant
vision, the inhabitants hostile, and the time short, and the
traveller may be restricted to- his line of route and unable
to deviate from it ; he must then endeavoumlo maintain a
continuous traverse of the route, sketching in the ground
in its immediate vicinity. Whenever breaks of continuity
occur he must resort to astronomical observations to effect
a connexion between the dissociated sections of his survey
and to obtain an independent check on the general accuracy
of the operations. He has therefore to be prepared to
measure base-lines, to carry on a triangulation in some
regions and a traverse in others, and to make any astro-
nomical observations which may be wanted, and, if possible,
to complete his mapping on the ground instead of post-
poning it to be done elsewhere. He should supply himself
with some instruments suited for rough and rapid work
and with others for better work when time and opportunity
permit, and he should be careful to arrange -beforehand
the general character of the proposed operations and the
;scales and projections to be adopted for the mapping ; he
should also provide himself with blank sheets of paper
duly graticulated to scale, for work in detail in the vicinity
of the line of route and for general geography. For
measures of base-lines and distances on the ground, chains,
rolls of crinoline wire, long Assam canes, and perambulators
may be employed, also omnimeters and subtense theodolites,
to measure the angle subtended by a pole of known length,
whence the distance may be deduced. For measures of
angles and bearings, either theodolites,* or sextants, or
prismatic compasses may be used, according as more or less
accuracy is required. For the general survey the plane
table is a most valuable instrument : it enables bearings
to be at once laid down on the paper without previous
measurement, and much detail to be sketched in on the spot,
instead of being plotted subsequently from a field-book ;
then the, only independent angular measurements -^'hich
need be taken are those of the principal triangles and of
very distant points beyond the range of the table. Rough
and rapid route surveys may .lie made by pacing the dis-
tances,' taking the magnetic bearings, and combining with
the results of astronomical observation. Many thousand
' In many respects a theodolite is more suitable than a sextant :
(1) it measures horizontal angles directly, whereas the sextant measures
■oblique angles, which have to be reduced to the horizon ; (2) it mea-
sures a round of several angles with much greater facility ; (3) it
measures all vertical angles with equal facility, including the small
elevations and depressions of distant peaks which cannot be readily
seen by reflexion from mercury for measurement with a sextant ; (4)
its telescopic power Is usually far higher ; (5) it may be so mani-
pulated as to eliminate the effects, without ascertaining the magni-
tudes, of the constant instrumental errors,; — excentricity, index, and
colliraation ; and (6) when much accuracy is required the influence of
graduation errors may be greatly reduced by systematic ch.anges of
the settings of the horizontal circle. '
miles of itinerary through regions in Central Asia have
been surveyed by Asiatic employes of the Indian Govern-'
ment in this way ; the northings and southings were con-
trolled by latitude observations, and the factors thus ob-
tained were applied to the eastings and westings, longitudes
being impracticable. The theodolite should be employed to
fix points on very distant ranges, for it will give good
results, even with short bases and very acute angles, pro-
vided the objects actually observed are well identified in
each instance. Observations should be taken from three
stations, giving two triangles -with a common side, which
■ will at once show up any mistake, whether of identity, circle
reading, or calculation. Whenever a break of continuity
occurs in the triangulation or the traversing, astronomical
observations must be resorted to. Much may be done by a
judicious intrf^diiction of latitudes and azimuths, more par-
ticularly -where there is considerable northing and southing,
for then differences of longitude may be obtained from the
azimuths and differences of latitude. A prominent peak,
visible from great distances all round, may be made to serve
as a connecting link between regions which cannot be con-
tinuously connected, by measuring its azimuth and distance
from a base-line in each region ; the addition of latitudes
at the azimuth stations -will much strengthen the work.
Collateral Astronomical Determinations. — Determina-
tions of azimuth, latitude, time, and longitude may all be
required for geographical reconnaissance, — the -first two
more particularly, as they can be obtained readily -with
much acciu-acy ; the fourth, being much the most trouble-
some to get and the least reliable when got, is only re
sorted to when it cannot be dispensed with.
The azimuth of an object may be determined .without
calculation by observing the angles between the object
and a star at equal altitudes on opposite sides of the
meridian ; but it is generally found by observing the
angle in one p^jsition of the star and applying thereto
the azimuth of the star as obtained by calculation. la
the spherical triangle PZS, in which P repre-
sents the pole, Z the zenith, and S the star, the
angle PZS is the star's azimuth, which can be
computed when any three parts of the triangle
are given. PS, the polar distance of the star,
is given by the tables, and PZ, the co-latitude,
must be previously determined ; then, for the
third part, we may have either ( 1 ) PSZ, a right i'
angle, by observing a circumpolar star at its ^'S- 7.
maximum elongation, or (2) the hour angle P for any star,
by taking the time of the observation, or (3) the zenith
distance,.^-?, by measurement simultaneously with the hori-
zontal angle. Of these three methods the first is the most
accurate, but it is not always convenient ; the second re-
quires, in addition, special observations for time; the third
is generally the most convenient, for it may be performed
between sunset and dark, when the stars are coming into
view, but when there is still sufficient light to illuminate
the wires of the telescope and the referring mark, and thus
enable lamps to be dispen.sed with.
The latitude is most readily determined by measures of
stars' zenith distances on the meridian, duly corrected for
refraction ; then, the polar distance being known, the lati-
tude is at once ascertained. The stars should be observed
in pairs of nearly equal zenith distance, north and south,'
for this eliminates all constant instrumental errors, as of
index, excentricity, and graduation, and also errors in the
adopted refractions. When a single star is employed,'
circum-meridian observations of zenith distance may be
taken and reduced to the meridian by calculation ; tableq
for the pole star are given in the Nautical Almanac, whieb
enable an observation, taken at any knovm time in the 3i
hours, to be reduced to the pole
SAUnCAL.]
SURVEYING
713
The time is usually best determined by measuring the
zenith distances of stars situated not far from the prime
vertical; then, the latitude and polar distance being
known, the hour angle P of the spherical triangle is
found by calculation. Time may also be determined by
observing the transits of stars over the wires of the tele-
scope of a theodolite set up in the meridian.
The longitude may be determined either absolutely, by
purely astronomical methods, as by observations of the
moon's motion, or differentially, with the aid of telegraph
lines and travelling chronometers. Absolute longitude is
the geographer's great difficulty ; for much time must be
devoted to the observations, and much more to their re-
duction, when undertaken with the object of fixing the
relative positions of the stations of a survey. The obser-
vations are of various kinds, — (1) lunar distances, i.e., the
distance between the moon and the sun or one of the
stars given for this purpose in the Nautical Almanac; (2)
lunar zenith distances, observed at points of the moon's
path where the conditions are favourable ; (3) lunar
transits over the meridian, observed with transits of the
moon-culminating stars given in the Nautical Almanac;
(4) lunar occultations of stars ; (5) eclipses of the sun and
moon ; (6) eclipses of Jupiter's satellites. The first method
requires the employment of a sestant or other reflecting
instrument ; the second may be accomplished with either
a reflecting instrument or a theodolite ; the third with a
theodolite ; for the last three a good astronomical telescope
is wanted. The first, when carried out strictly, requires
three observers, ^-one to measure the lunar distance, while
the others are measuring the zenith distances of the moon
and the star ; but, as the last two are not wanted with
great accuracy, the several observations may be taken
in succession by one person, and the observed zenith
distances afterwards adjusted to. the time of the lunar
distance.
' The effects of errors of observation in these methods are as
follows. la (1) an error in time produces the same error in the
longitude, aud an error of one second of arc in the distance pro-
duces two seconds in time in the longitude. In (2) an error of one
second in time produces at least thirty seconds of time error in the
longitude, and one second of arc in the zenith distance at least two
seconds of time in the longitude. In (3) to (6) an error of time pro-
duces the same error in the longitude. The first method is pre-
ferred by seamen and travellers, who are more expert in the use
of the sextant than of the theodolite. The second method is pre-
ferred by those who are more familiar with the theodolite, and who
are equipped with one of good telescopic power. It gives very good
results when the observations are made at the most favourable
time, which occurs when the resultant of the moon's motion in
right ascension and in declination lies in the direction of the
observer's zenith ; this time may be readily found by graphical
projection on a chart of the heavens.
Difftr. Difi'erential longitude may be determined chronometri-
^^ cally, on land as at sea, by carrying about several well-
^^; rated chronometers and comparing their times with the
local times deduced from observations of the sun and stars ;
or electro-telegraphicaliy, by interchanging signals between
two stations connected by a telegraph wire, and ascertain-
ing the local times at which the signals are transmitted
from ftnd received at each station.
Hypsometry. — Determinations of height form a very
necessary part of geographical reconnaissance. Whenever
triangulation is possible, vertical angles may be measured
and the heights ascertained in regular succession. But in
a traverse this is scarcely practicable ; breaks of continuity
in the verticals are liable to be of frequent occurrence, and
then recourse must be had to observations of the pressure
and temperature of the atmosphere, or of the temperature
of the vapour of boiling water, from either of which fairly
torrect heights may bo deduced difi"crentially under normal
atmospheric conditions in settled weather. The instruments
employed for this purpose are mercurial and Oneroid baro-
meters and boiling-point thermometers; descriptions of
them, and the formulae employed in reducing the observa-
tions, are given under Barometer (vol. iii. pp. 381-387).
Here it is only necessary to add that the date and hour of
every barometric observation should be recorded, and the
observations referred for reduction to those taken at the
same time at one or more of the nearest standard meteoro-
logical observatories ; otherwise corrections should be given
to the barometer readings for. the hour of the day and the
month of- the year, in order to reduce them as nearly as
may be to the local mean altitude of the mercury. The
index errors of aneroid barometers?, being liable to varia-
tions, should be determined from time to time by observa-
tions at stations of known altitude, or by comparisons witli
boiling-point thermometers.
Vn. Nautical Surveying.
Nautical surveying has for its object the determination Nantict
of the configuration of land which is covered and concealed f^rruf
from view by water, more particularly along the foreshore"**
of a coast-line, and wherever navigation is carried on in
comparatively shallow waters and a knowledge of the depth
of water is of great importance ; it has likewise to lay
down the positions of oceanic islands, shoals, and rocks,
and generally to delineate whatever land exists imme-
diately above or below the surface of the ocean. Its
methods difler according as they are performed in or out
of sight of land. When in the vicinity of land it is pre-
ceded by a survey of the coast-line and a belt of the
country beyond, which must be of sufficient breadth to
furnish suitable points of reference for the survey opera-
tions on the water, and may have to be extended inland
to embrace those peaks of distant hill ranges which aro
prominent objects at sea for the guidance of mariners.
This done, the nautical survey is carried on in boats, by
taking soundings and determining the positions of the boats
by observations to some of the points already fixed on land.
The observations are necessarily made with sextants and
magnetic compasses only. With the former the angles
between conspicuous land-marks are measured, and, as the
angle between any two points is half the magnitude of the
angle between the same points at the centre of the circle
which passes through them and through the boat, the
measurement of two angles between three points enables
two circles to be drawn on the chart, the intersection of
which will generally indicate the position of the boat with
sufficient accuracy. Occasionally, however, it happens
that the positions of all three points on shore and the boat
also lie actually, or very nearly, on the circumference of
one and the same circle ; then a bearing taken with the
compass wiU fix the position of the boat on the circumfer-
ence of the circle. Time is noted whenever soundings are
taken, that due allowance may be made for the rise and
fall of the tide. All the sounding stations are not fixed
by observations to points on shore, as just indicated, but
only a certain proportion, and between them straight lines
of sounding are run, with intervals measured either by a
patent log, or by time, or by counting the strokes of the
oars ; whenever possible the lines of sounding are carried
parallel to each other. Sounding is the most important
part of a nautical surveyor's duty and that on which hia
character mainly depends. It is essentially the work of
the sailor, for in carrying it out the accidents of wind and
water— the direction and force of the wind, the rise and
fall of the tide, and the velocity of currents— must be duly
taken cognizance of and the work managed to suit wind
and weather ; on the other hand, the work on jnnd may be
done by landsmen. Nautical surveying, out of sight oj
land, rests on astronomical determinations of latitude and
time, chronomctric longitudes, and dead reckoning by log.
714
SUKVEYING
When tnangulation is resorted to, base-lines are measured
sometimes with a patent log, sometimes by sound, by noting
the interval in time between the flash and the report of a
gun. _ The great length of modern ironclads presents a
base-line which is occasionally very convenient : points are
taken at each end of the ship, as far apart as possible, from
which two observers can see each other j they are carefully
marked, and the distances between them determined for
future reference ; then angles between moderately distant
objects and observers standing at these points, taken simul-
taneously from each point, enable the required distances
to be obtained. The magnetic variation is determined by
observing the azimuth of the sun, when' on oi; near the
horizon, with a standard compass fixed amidship, care
being taken beforehand to determine any deviation of the
needle which may be due to the attraction of the surround-
mg ironwork, by observing' the bearing of a distant mark
as the ship is swung round and her head laid on diflferent
poinrs of the compass. See also Navigation (Practical),
rol. xvii. p. 264. '
Viil. Mapping
MAJPPDJO.
Graiiculation.—'Fhe sheets of paper on which the details
of tne survey of any large area of country are to be laid
down must be furnished with a system of conventional
ines, arawn with a view to assimilate the margins of con-
tiguous sheets and to form a graticulation within which
■-he details may be accurately inserted. The graticule is
ometimes rectangular, sometimes spherical, sometimes a
:ombination of both, as when points of which the latitude
ind longitude coordinates are given have to be plotted
withm rectangular marginal lines. Spherical graticules
are constructed m various ways, usually in accordance
with some specific method of projection; see Geography
(Mathematical), vol. x. p. 197. The foUowing convenient
method is not referable to any demonstrated projection
but 13 generaUy employed on the Indian Survey. Suppose
tlie mtersection of two meridians by two parallels to form
a smaU spherical quadrUateral, with sides of aliquot parts
of a degree in latitude and in longitude; let m be the
length of each of the meridional arcs, p, p' the lengths
ot the arcs on the upper and lower parallels, and let a be
a diameter, then ^
q='VmFTp7p';
thus, m p a.ndp' being given, q is calculated. With these
data, which are tabulated for dififerent arcs and scales the
corner points of a number of quadrDaterals ire laid ofi- in suc-
cession on either side of an adopted meridian, and lines are
drawn through the points to indicate the collateral meri-
dians and the parallels of latitude. The latter are always
curved, more or less sensibly; the former are also curved
though in_ a much less degree, being' concave to thei^
mitialmendian, and the more so the farther they are from
It. When the area is smaUand the scale large, the
meridians are practically straight lines, and the several
shests of a map, each projected on its own meridian, will
tit together closely when carried on in any direction But
when the area is large— exceeding 8 or 10 square degrees
--and the scale small, the sheets will not fit together con-
tinuously mdess they are projected with reference to a
single meridian for the whole map, to which the meridians
on either side wiU be increasingly concave, or unless all
the mendiansare made straight lines, by slightly contract-
ing each ot the intermediate arcs of paraUel to a length
which IS exactly proportioned to the lengths and relative
(Stances of the upper and lower parallels of the map from
It. Ihere must be some distortion in either case • in the
tirst, meridians which are actually straight Unes are repre-
sented as being curved; in the second, straight meridians
axe obtained, but the distances between them are exact
only on the upper and lower paraUels, and are too small
elsewhere, more particularly on the middle paraUel, the
length of which necessarily exceeds the mean length of the
upper and lower paraUels. i But distortion is inevitable
whenever a spherical surface is projected on a plane
When a map is constructed in rectangular sheets, some
station IS adopted as the origin and its meridian as the
principal axis, to which the corner points of the sheets are
to be referred; the coordinates of these points axe given
such dimensions as are most suitable for the size and scale of
the map, and are equivalent to the rectangular sphc-icaj
coordmates of imaginary points on the curved surface of
the earth, at corresponding distances from the origin and
Its meridian. These being given, the distances of the
pomts from the origin in latitude and longitude raav
be computed, as already sho^vn (p. 706) ; thus data become
available for projecting the graticulation of meridians and
paraUels within the rectangular marginal lines of each
Sheet, or for introducing the divisions of latitude and longi-
tude on the marginal lines if preferred. Conversely, when
the latitudes and longitudes are given, the rectangular
spherical coordinates are computed and the marginal lines
-projected around the gr»ticuIation. FiUing in is then
commenced : the principal stations are laid down by their
coordmates and the topographical details pencUled around
them by copying or tracing the field sheets of the survey •
the names and the outlines are then inked in ; the shad-
ing for delineating the features and general configuration
ot the ground is usuaUy dene last of aU. The manner
HI which the details are inked in and rendered permanent
depends on whether the map is to be reproduced by hand
only— as when it is to be engraved or lithographed— or
whether in its reproduction photography is to be employed
and the action of Ught invoked, either in entire superses-
sion of or m partial co-operation with the labour of the
draftsman. In the former case the map is made as perfect
a pictorial representation of the surface of the ground as
possible, the hill features being represented artisticaUy in
mezzotmt shadhig with a brush or n chaUc drawing, -and a
variety of colours used to facUitate discrimination of differ-
ences of topographical detail. In the latter no colours are
used which vvill not photograph well, nor flat shades of any
colour, nor— as a rule— mezzotmt shading, but only some
substitute therefor in pen and ink. This last condition is
essential for the commonly employed processes of photo-
zmco^aphyand photo-Uthography ; but endeavours have
recently been made, with some degree of success, to re-
produce mappmg m middle tones by the processes of photo-
collotype and photo-gravure.
Photography is much employed as an auxiliary in map-Photo-
ping ; for when a map is to be pubHshed on various scales graph, .
the hand-drawn details of the largest scale edition may be '" ™^
reduced by its means as accurately as by the familiar ^"^
pantagraph, and of course very much more rapidly. Thus in
the Ordnance Survey town maps on the scale of Trji are
reduced to. the scale of ^J^ for incorporation into the
parish maps; the latter are reduced for insertion in the
6-mch maps, and they in turn for the Much map By
limitmg the dimensions of each sheet for reduction to 3
feet by 2, and by a judicious use of stops to lenses, the re-
ductions are made without any error in scale or any distor-
tion that can be detected by the most rigid examination.
But photography reduces every part of the original ahke,
the pnntmg of words and names as well as the topographi-
cal details, and it reproduces aU the minor and less import-
^ Mr 0 Farrell's pamphlet On the CoTistruction and Use of the
iiix Sheets of Marginal Lines for Maps of every part of the World
published by the Ordnance Survey, tables are given of the lengths of
mendioDal and longitudinal area, their versines and diagonals, for
every ten minutss m latitude from the equator tr, 80° N. and 80" a
SURVEYING
MAP PEIiJTraCJ.]
ant as weU as the more important features ; hence a reduc-
tion is rarely suited for reproduction without intermediate
modification, the printing being generaUy too small to be
easUy legible, and the mass of minor detaU tendmg to con-
fuse the principal sub-Unes. The draftsman is therefore
called in and the procedure so arranged as to obtain the
best results with the least labour. • Either he may con-
struct a new map by tracing from a silver print of the
photograph whatever topographical details are required for
ft and omitting the rest, or he may ink in such details at
once with black ink on a blue print taken from a transfer
of the photograph to stone or zinc, in both cases adding
names and writing of appropriate sizes ; either result may-
be reproduced by photography, as the unblackened details
of the blue print will disappear in the process. This done,
a transfer to stone or zinc may be made from the second
photograph for the printing oflV Prints from photographic
reproductions to fuU scale exhibit all the blemishes of the
hand drawing and somewhat exaggerate them, whereas
prints from photo-reductions are freer from blemish, and
often as clear and sharp as good hand lithographs. In
employing a process of double photography, therefore, the
first photo is usually made on a larger scale than that for
publication ; the lines of the printing and topographical
detail are correspondingly exaggerated by the draftsman ;
and theu the second photo is a reduction, which should
be shariT clear, and free from blemish.
IX. Map Printing.
Various processes are employed for the reproduction ot maps in
largo numbers for general issue ; some are purely manual, the map
being redrawn by hand on copper, stone, or other substance pre-
sentmg a suitable surface from wliich prints may be taken, or on
paper specially prepared for transfer to such substance ; others are
carried out with the aid of photography, whereby an exact copy of
the original can be obtained either directly upou, or for subsequent
transfer to, the surface to be printed from. The former include the
processes of copper- plate engraving and lithography, which are the
oldest, and still in some respects the best of all, but slow and ex-
pensive ; the latter include the processes of photo -lithography,
photo-zincography, photo-gravure, and photo-coUotype. Engrav-
in" on stone is much employed on the Continent for map work,
being cheaper and quicker than engraving on copper. Electro-
metallurgic processes are frequently employed in connexion with
copper-plate engraving, either to protect and harden the surface of
the plate with a facing of steel or to furnish duplicates to bo printed
from, instead of the plate itself being used ; someiimes the wear of
the plate is prevented by transferring a print from it to a litho-
grapnic stone or a zinc plate, from which the printing is done in
Its stead. By the anastatic process an old print of a map may be
transferred to a zinc plate to be printed from.
V- Engraving may be performed on copper, wood, zinc, or stone ;
see vol. viii. p. 435. As done on copper plate for mapping, it is a
combination of ploughing with the burin and etching with an acid,
the former being used for the names and topographical outlines, the
latter for the features of the ground. The system adopted in the
Ordnance Survey of Great Britain — where it has been largely em-
ployed and carried to great perfection — is as follows. Tlie 6-inch
maps of the survey are engraved on copper plates measuring 36 by
24 inches within the marginal lines and weighing about 35 lb ; the
1-inch maps are 18 by 12 for. England and 24 by 18 for Scotland.
The corners of the maps, the prescribed marginal subdivisions, and
the trigonometrical points are first marked on the plate by a scoring
machine, in which it is laid, and which is provided with a travelling
carriage holding a steel pricker. The carriage is moved along a
gratluated scale and the pricker along another scale at right angles
to the former, and all points of which the rectangular coordinates
are known are laid off by vernier-read measurements frora the two
scales. The plate is then removed from the scoring machine, heated,
and given a thin coating of white wax, to form a surface on which
the topographical details are plotted before the graving is com-
menced. This surface is divided into a number of rectangles by fine
lines joining marginal subdivisions, the distances between which
are usually so regulated as to introduce sixteen of the survey sheets
on the ,iVd scale into one sheet on the 6-inch scale. The reductions
to this scale are made by photography, and the subsequent reduc-
tions to the 1-inch scale either by the nantagraph or by photography.
Traci:i-s of the reductions in lamp-black, made to fit into the rect-
angle-. vr<j transferred to the wax ground by rubbing with a steel
buiMt.i..r. Tlia plate is then ready to be placed in the bands of the
715
engravers, who complete first the outlines, theu the printing and
writing, and afterwards the ornament, each class of work being
usually done by a different person. The figures of latitudes, longi-
tudes, and altitudes, and various conventional symbols, are stamped
with steel punches. Parks and sands are ruled with a dotting wheel,
and buildings shaded in lines with a ruling machine. When a plate
of the 1-incn map is being engraved, all the printing is completed,
and line-engraving with the exception of the contour lines, and then
an electrotype duplicate of the plate is taken. The contour-lines
are engraved^on the duplicate, and the hills are etched on the original
plate ; thus two editions of the map arc obtained, one with contours
but without hills, the other with niUs but without contours, the
topographical details and writing being the same in both. In etch-
ing, the surface of the plate is thinly coated mth an acid-resisting
substance composed of asphalt. Burgundy pitch, and virgin was,
forming an etching ground, on which the outlines of the hill features,
are traced, and then marked through with a needle which removes
the ground where it passes, exposing the surface of the copper.
Aquafortis is applied to bite in the finer lines and then ■jjoured off;
the parts which are bitten sufficiently are painted over with " stop-
ping varnish"; and acid is again applied. The processes of stop^in*
out and biting in are alternately repeated until all the required tmts
from the lightest to the darkest are produced. In printing froma
copper plate, a much more powerful press has to be used than in
printing from stone or zinc, as the ink lies in the furrows that have
been ploughed or bitten into the plate and not on its surface ; the
process of printing is also much slower. In engraving on stone or
zinc, the surface is coated with a preparation of gum and lamp-black,
and on it the detail is traced with red chalk and afterwards cut in
with very fine steel or diamond points so as just to lay bare tho
surface of the ground without penetrating to any depth, as in copper-
plate engraving. A little oil having been rubbed over the surface,
the gummy composition is washed away and printing-ink applied ;
the printing is performed almost exactly in the same way as in
ordinary lithography, except that the printing-ink is in the first in-
stance spread over the stone or the zinc plate with a dabber instead
of a roller.
. Electrotyping is employed to conserve work engraved on copper, Electro
either by depositing a thin surface of steel over an engraved plate, typing,
which enables it to be printed from very much oftener without
injury, or by producing a duplicate to be employed in its stead in
the printing. In the latter case, a double process is gone through :
iirst, a cast or matrix is produced in relief by tho deposition of
copper on the surface of the otiginal'plate, and then an intaglio of
the matrix— which is therefore a duplicate of the original— is formed
by depositing copper on the surface of the matrix. For details
of these processes, see ELECTEO-METAiLtrRGT, vol. viii. p. 114. la
the Ordnance Survey electrotyping was first employed to obtain
duplicates on which to make the corrections and additions neces-
saiy to show the growth of railroads and towns since the time of
the original survey. The alterations are effected more easily when
obsolete details are scraped off the electrotype matrix than when they
are scooped out of an intaglio ; the original plate is also preserved
intact' Electrotyping is further serviceable in producing tho two
editions of the general map, one viith contour lines, the other with
hill-shading, already mentioned, as well as editions for geological
and other details. It is also serviceable in effecting a combmatiou
of portions of several plates: matrices of tho different portions ar«,
riveted together to form a single plate ; then an intaglio of this
plate is taken, on which any details lost at the junction of the
matrices are made good by hand. The dimensions of a full-sized
plate are 3SJ by 26^ inches ; the weight of a matrix is IS lb, and
of the duplicate 38 lb.
There are two essentially distinct processes of lithography, — one UOto*
in which the map is wholly drawn by hand on the stone-, the other, grarfij,
a much quicker but coarser process, in which it is traced with gre.isy
ink on specially prepared paper, which is then laid face downwards
on the stone. When lithographs are to be produced by a single print-
ing, all hill features, as well as topographical outlines and names,
are drawn with a pen or fine camel-hair brush in ink of obe colour.
Double printing is necessary when the hills are drawn in chalk, two
stones being required, one for the chalk work, the other for the pen-
and-ink work ; and in chromo-Iithogra]>hy a separate stone is re-
quired for the work in each colour. For fiUl details, see Litbo
ORAPHY, vol. xiv. p. 699. , t 1 r v»v
Zincography has of late years largely taken the place of litho-
graphy for prLoting from hand-drawn transfers, though not foi
hand-drawing on the surface of the zinc, as on stone and copper.
Zinc plates are less costly and bulky than Uthographic stones, and
are much more conveniently handled : thus a plate measuring about
43 by 28i inches and fy of an inch thick weighs 60 lb, is easily
carried by one man, and costs 16 sliillings ; a lithographic stone ol
the same surface is 4 J inches thick, weighs 450 lb, requires four men
' In the French and Austrian surveys corrections are made on ft«»h
copper deposited by electricity over the faulty parts, which are
SCuupca out.
716
SURVEYING
[map peintujql
to lift it, and costs about £7. Prints from transfers to a zinc plate
are as satisfactory as prints from transfers to stone, and there is no
liability of the plate being fractured in the press, which not unfre-
fjuently happens to the stone. The surface of the plate is prepared
by scraping it evenly all over with a razor blade in parallel lines,
until all irregularities are removed ; the plate is then bent so as to
present a slightly convex surface, which is ground with pumice-
stone and water, and smoothed with a piece of steatite, and then
given a grained surface with sand. It is flattened by being passed
ihrough a press, after which it is ready to receive the transfer. The
subsequent procedure depends, as in lithography, on the circum-
stance that greasy substances do not mix with water and are repelled
by gummy substances. The greasy ink lines of the transfer are
readily absorbed by the surface of the plate ; then a preparation of
gum and decoction of gall nuts (to which a little phosphoric acid
ps added), applied to the entire surface of the plate, serves to etch
the blank ground without affecting the lines of the transfer ; but it
prevents the ink from spreading, and also fills up the pores of the
Wank parts of the plate with a gummy substance, which repels a
greasy ink. Printing ink, therefore, applied as usual with a roller
to the entire surface of the plate adheres to the inked lines only
and can be readily washed off the blank spaces, and then a print
taken will show the inked lines only. The tracing for transfer is
drawn on paper thinly coated with starch to prevent the graphic
writing-ink from soaking into it ; the ink is a mixture of Paris
black, Castile soap, white wax tallow or sweet oil, and shellac,
which being greasy is readily absorbed by the zinc The tracing is
Jaid face downwards on the plate and passed several times under
the pressure of the roller of the printing press. It is then wetted
and peeled off, the ink remaining on the zinc. The surface of the
jplate is again washed with the etching liquid, which removes stains
from the blank spaces and renders them more susceptible of being
equably wetted with water, and also — after a few drops of turpen-
tine have been added — removes the unabsoibed writing-ink and
helps to fix the lines. The plate is then ready to be printed from.
The printing-ink is. composed of lamp-black — with a little Prussian
blue added— and linseed oil varnish of a thicknass depending on the
temperature and the subject. Small corrections on the plate can
be made by removing the surface with a strong solution of hydrate
of potash, and then preparing a new surface to be drawn on by
applying dilute nitric acid and afterwards washing off the nitrate
of zinc.
|.nastatic Anastatic printing produces facsimiles of any inked print by
printing, transfer to a zinc plate, the inked lines on it being absorbed in-a-
greater or less degree by the plate. The print is laid face down-
wards on blotting-paper, and brushed with a solurion of nitric
acid diluted with five times its bulk of water until thoroughly and
evenly saturated ; it is then placed face downwards on a zmc plate
with a well-grained surface, and passed under the roUer of a power-
ful copper-plate printing press. The grease of the ink, being set
free by the acid, adheres to the surface of the plate ; but, as the
amount of ink absorbed is much less than in the case of an ordinary
transfer, it is strengthened by. working up with lithographic ink,
oil, and gum water until the surface is sufficiently strong to bear
etching with the usual preparation of gum, nut galls, and phosphoric
acid. The plate is now ready to be printed from in the usual
manner. If the original print is an old one, it must first have
its ink softened by immersion in hot water containing half an ounce
of caustic strontia for every pint of water, the time of immersion
varying, with the condition of the print, from a few minutes to an
hour. A print well worked up is often superior to the original.
^.Wfr. Photography having already been described in detail (see vol.
U«pby. xviii. p. 821), its application to ruapping and map-prinring need only
be noticed here. The action of light can be employed either by
placing the map in contact with a sheet of sensitized paper and
against a glass plate in a printing frame, when the light will pass
through the map and produce a picture of it on the paper, or by
using a camera furnished with an object-glass, through which rays
of light from the map are transmitted so as to produce a picture on
a sensitized glass plate, which can afterwards be printed from. The
best known of the processes in which the camera is not used is the
"cyanotype"; the paper is sensitized with a mixture containing
nearly equal proportions of solutions of ammonio-citrate of iron
and the ferrid-cyanide of potassium ; the prints give white lines on
a dark-blue ground, and are very inexpensive. There are other
processes of printing with the salts of iron, uranium, &c., which
give an exact transcript of the original drawing with dark lines
on a white ground. But they are only suitable for maps drawn in
pen and ink not larger than the glass plate of the printing frame ;
being therefore only serviceable in special cases when few copies
are wanted, they are little employed and may be regarded more
as curiosities than as ordinary methods of map-printing. Photo-
graphy is generally effected with the aid of a camera, and em-
ployed to obtain a negative of a map on glass, from which prints
inay be taken either for use per se or for transfer to a flat surface
of zinc, stone, or other suitable material to print from. The map
ia usually attached, to a board'snspended vertically in an adjast.
able frame, whOe the camera is placed on an adjustable stand set
at right angles to the map frame on a tramway, along which it can
be moved to any desired distance from the map. The camera ia
furnished with a ground-glass focusing screen, on which is pencU'icd
a rectangle whose dimensions are proportional to those of a corre.
sponding rectangle on the map, in the ratio of the scale of the
required photograph to that of the map. The map and the focusing
screen are brought into parallelism at such a distance that thS '
image of the rectangle on the map exactly coincides with the rect-
angle on the focusing screen. A sensitized collodion plate is then
substituted for the screen and a negative taken, which is afterwards
"fixed" and "intensified" so as to produce the greatest trans-
parence in the lines and an almost opaque density of the ground.
Printing from a negative is usually performed by the action of light
when only a few copies are wanted, and mechanically when many-
are wanted ; the prints are taken directly from the negative in the
one instance, and from a transfer of the negative to the surface of
a stone or metal plate in the other. Of the processes of printing
directly from the negative, silver printing, the oldest, is as ye^
unsurpassed for the delicacy of its results, but it is expensive and
perishable ; the prints are taken on paper coated with albumen
containing an alkaline chloride, such as common salt, floated on a
bath of nitrate of silver, and allowed to dry in the dark. After
exposure to light in a printing frame, the prints are washed, toned
with a solution of gold, and then fixed in a bath of hyposulphat*
of soda, which dissolves all the remaining unaltered chloride of
silver. At the Ordnance Survey office platinum printing is now
(1887) largely used instead of silver printing for all purposes wher»
only a few copies of a map are required. It is more expensive, bnt
the prints are absolutely permanent and are produced more quickly
than silver prints. Their rich velvety black colour and freedom
from glaze render them peculiarly suitable. The paper is sensitized
with a preparation of platinum and ferric oxalate. After exposure
to light, tne image is developed almost instantaneously by laying
the print on a hot solution of potassic oxalate ; it is then washed
in successive baths of dilute acid to remove the soluble iron salts,
and after that in a few changes of water. Various processes of
"collo-chromate" printing are also most usefully employed in map-
printing ; they depend on the reaction of the salts of chromium
particularly the alkaline bichromates — on gelatin, gum, albumen,
or other colloid substances, which, in proportion to the amount ol
the action of light upon them, become more or less insoluble in and
unabsorbent of water, and acquire the property of taking up greasy
.ink and not attracting plumbago or other fine dry pigment in
powder. AVlien the subject is in line the print is taken on paper
that is usually coated with a mixture of gelatin and bichromate of
potash, coloured with Indian ink or any other suitable pigment;
after a few minutes' exposure in the copying frame the paper is
plunged into tepid water, which dissolves the unaltered gelatin
in the blank parts of the print — they have been protected from the
light under the dark parts of the negative — leaving a clear imag»
in pigment on a white ground. When the subject is in half-lone^
the gelatin film has to be detached from the paper that it may'
be developed by being washed on the imexposea side, a temporaiy
support being employed to preserve the image from injury during
the washing ; the most delicate shades in the half-tones are thus
perfectly preserved.
In the processes noticed above it is necessary to repeat the opera- Pboto-
tion by exposure to light for every print produced; the rate of aectsati-
printing will therefore be more or less dependent on the sensitiveness ic»l
of the paper, the, strength of the light, and the icondition of the ]j(li^[^
atmosphere. In the processes about to be described these dis- '
advantages are obviated by transferring the photographic image to
a surface of stone or metal, from which prints may be made mechani-
cally in any numbers independently of light or weather. The
photo-mechanical processes are broadly divisible into two classes,—
one comprising photo-lithography, photo-zincogjaphy, and phofco-l
typograpny, for the reproduction of subjects in line only; tho
other, photo-collotype and photo-gravure, for subjects in mezzo^
tint or half-tone as well as line.
Photo- lithography and the analogous photo-zincography are thv
processes whic'n have hitherto been most extensively employed fer
map printing. They are the simplest to carry out ; they allow;
the photographs of several sections of a map which may be too
large to be reproduced as a whole to be combined ; and additions
and corrections may be readily made by hand on the stone or zinc
plate. The prints for transfer from the negatives are taken on paper
coated with a mixture of gelatin and potassium bichromate, as in,
the pigment printing process, except that the greasy ink or colour-
ing matter is not mixed with the gelatin, but applied evenly over
the surface of the prints after exposure to the light. The inked
print is immersed for a few minutes in tepid water to soften th«
gelatin still remaining soluble in the parts not acted upon by ligh^'
and is then laid on a sloping plate and washed with a soft sponga
until all the imaltered soluble gelatin and the ink overlying it an
removed. The lines on which' the light has acted remaia insoluble
^d retain the in]:, forming a clear image of the subject in a grtaM
MISTKlMiiXTS.
SURVEiix^G
717
Ink. Wlien a map Is photogrepbed In several sections, as often
happens each section overlaps well all round to enable the transfers
from tlio different negatives to be neatly joined together ^ylthout
ohowing Unes of junction ; if the whole is too large to be pnnted
on a single sheet of paper, it is cut up Into Bections for printing
'"ThTobject of photo-typography Is lo obtain by photographic
asency a surface blocU which may be set up with type and printed
in the same wav as - woodcut. The imago may be obtained on a
xlnc pliite by trans:; .i the same way as for photo-zincography,
or U. may be printed directly from a reversed negative. In the
latter case the zinc plate is usually prepared with a thin coating
of bitumen, a substance which has the property of becoming in-
.oluble under the influence of light, eo that, when after exposure
the plate Is vrashed with turpentine or benzole, the image remains
on the zinc, while the ground is washed away. In both cases the
Image is strengthened by careflil inking and by the eppUcAtion of
TKiwdered resin, which the plate is heated Bufficiently to melt. The
S^a^eisthenetch^l wit. zu^ acR ^ ^he ^.^-l/"}!^;
*fe" ?nfbi'fen'sutcien"Sy deeply^o give cleai- prints^
In another%rocess, which is perhaps P.-/<=.-^'« ^f^^S^^Xn^:
BiotJd is obtained by electrotyping a ^^''^•"Xiiwo or bronze
mirftcfl of which has been metallized with plumbago or oronze
S^der The processes are largely used for producing small maps
Esirate boolfs and newspapers, but not for maps of -dmary su«
The three mechanical processes just noticed are only applicable
to »aVs drarin line. li to get iood FJ^ts eveiy line^hould be
7t the same blackness, though of different breadth. Attempts have
been ^ade to reproduce bmsh-shaded drawings, exhibiting con-
feuou^ l^adations of shade, by photo-lithography «"^^ P^^t^^^^^
pranhv but with very partial success, and only li breaking up and
fSSiyingtC continuity of gradation. The o lowmg processes
nrn <meciallv suited for reproducing maps ii; haU-tone.
ncxo. iSt^coTlot^e, so-called froln the printing surface being of
5n^ gelati^, a plate with a perfectly smooth surface, ''^^-"y «[ t^"^^
5t«- class, either is coated with a sensitive mixture of gelatin and
fcmate of potash, upon which the photographic i™age is pro-
.luccd^y the action of light through a rmr«d negative, or .^
cmnloved to support a gelatin film on which the image has been
imprint d f°om an ordinary negative, and which is attached to the
pTa^e vdth suitable cement' The gelatin when properly moistened
Possesses the valuable property of receiving a greater or less amount
of ink in different parts of the image in exact proportion to the
intensfh- of the action of the light on each part ; thus it is capab e
"f reproducing the most delicate gi-adations of shade. The proce s
fa admirable for maps of small size, which only require a sing e
rlat^, but is not suited for making a combination of sec ions to
fcamap of ordinary size ; nor can additions or corrections be
inade on the gelatin film, which is, moreover, so tender that it does
not readUy pfrmit of a large number of pnuts oS uniform quality
being taken, and is easily damaged, .... „„„, „,
The several methods of obtaining an incised image on a copper
plate by means of photography are broadly divisible into the «o
Lups bf electrotyping a£d etching processes ; one of each w 1 bo
frieriy noticed. (1) A positive pigment print, forming a relief n
lardened gelatin, is developed on a sdvered copper plate by the
ordinary operations of the autotype or pigment printing process .
it is then blackleadcd and copper is deposited on 't.to fo™ an
ilectrotvpe intaglio, from which prints may be taken in the usual
way th^e to four weeks being ren^ired for tlie deposition of enough
copper to produce a plate of sufficient thickness. (2) A negative
piSprirt is developed on a highly poU.shed copper plate, upon
which a lery fine grain of powdered resin has been deposited and
fixed by heal The intaglio'^ is obtained directly on the plate by
Utlng in with a solution of perchloride of iron, which penetrates
the gelatin iilm with comparative case in those parts representing
the shades and lines of a map, where there is little or no geMm.
and. thus bites the copper to a considerable depth, while in tl e
parts representing the^)lank spaces and ground ot the map, w ere
the gelatin is thicker, it penetrates with more and more di«'CuUy
as the thickness of the gelatin increases and in the I'-K^ l^'^f s
should leave the copper untouched. The operation of l^.'tn'f! takes
only a few minutes and the g.avure is remarkable for its dcl.ca y
of CTadation and richness of ellect ; there is however, some d'peu ty
in etching to the proper depth so that the plate may stand mt^ch
printing without thi loss of the' finest tint. In both cases he
Jopper plates have to be protected by a facing of steel before they
can be printed from. The processes have not yet been used to any
Pat extent for maps with lialf-tones, but they are very FO"'^ "?;
for maps in lino the first method gives excellent results, and 13
largely ewployed in the Austrian and Italian surveys.
X. Insteuments.
Tlio instnimcnts employed in survey operations aro
■broadly divisible into two classes, one for making the
requisite linear and angular measurements on the ground,
the other for plotting the data thus acquired on paper,
and for measuring from the map, when completed, lengths
and areas wbich it may not be convenient to calculate
from the numerical data. As a rule different instruments
are employed for the mensuration on the ground and for
the plotting on paper ; but to this rule there is a notable
exception in the plane table, by means of -which all bearings
may be drawn directly on paper with a sight rule, without
previous measurement of any kind, and thus a plot of the
ground may be constructed without employing any other
instrument.
Field Instrvments.— These are of two classes,— linear, for deter-
mining distances directly by actual measurement along the surface'
of the ground, and angular, for determining the bearings of, or the
angles between, any objects. Some instruments are automatic, as
the needle, which points to the magnetic north, the plumb-line
and the spirit-level, which indicate the direction of gr.ivity, and
hypsometer^ of various kinds, for measuring altitudes ; others
are entirely controlled by the manipulator. Some require to be
rigidly supported on the ground, as measuring liars and theodolites ;
others are adapted for flexible supports, as reflecting and magnetio
instruments, which nuy be employed either on land or on tha
osciUating deck of a ship at sea. Some, as magnetic compasses,
measure angles in the horizontal pkne only ; others, as theodolites,
in two planes,— one horizontal, the other vertical ; others, as reflect-
ing instruments, in all planes ; others, as levelling instruments,
measure nothing, but simply indicate a plane of reference. _ And
there are certain instruments by which angles are measured in the
ordinary way, and direct distances are determined by micrometnc
measui-es of the sraaU angles subtended at a distahce by objects of
known dimensions. , . ^^
Linear instruments are of two classes,— one for exact measure- Lino^
ment of base-lines the lengths of which are required to be known instrn-
with great precision, the other for ordinary and rough measure- ments.
mentsT Among the former may be included the Colby apparatus
of compensation bars and microscopes, described in sect 1., & i
(p. 696 above), Bessel's apparatus, those of Struve and the United
States Coast Survey, and Porro's (adopted by the Spaniards and
the French in Algiers), which have already been described in Earth
(Figure of the), vol. vii. pp. 598, 600, and Geodesy vol. x. pp.
163 164. For less exact but still essentially accurate measures
the' instruments most commonly employed aro the brass or steel
chain of 100 links, the graduated metallic tape, and the offset pole.
For reconnaissance and rough measurement perainbulators with
wheels of known periphery and dials to indicate the number of
devolutions, are largely used in India. .Cr'-oline wire ha been
employed with advantage in Australia ; it is so Sl't tbat a ength
of 1000 feet or more may be easily carried rolled on a drum, by
one man, who pays it out as wanted; he is usually foUowed by
another who commences rolling it up at the opposite end when
anentireTngthhasbcen laid o°ut on the ground Air lines are
Lmetimes measured by stretching the w^e over the tops o rees
in valleys obstructed with forest, also the breadths of rners- hy
resting the wire on logs anchored at suitable intervals to support
■' Ante-mts'^mng instruments are of two passes direct and re-'Aff^i.
fleet"ng Both are provided with an aligner, usual y a telescope, nieasuD
hichls pivoted over the centre of the graduated circle or sector : ng
in ine the aligner is pointed in succession to any two objects ho lustn."
^.Zbe wcen^which i^s being measured ; in the other it is pointed ments.
?o one object, while an uiiago of the =^™°'VVictim instn^en
by double reflexion from a pair of mirrors. Reflecting "^'"™ent3
the nlane in which they aro held ; and, whenever this p ano is
The circles of angle-measuring instruments » ° "^""^''^ '''" ,^
into 300 equal parts called degrees, ""!\^,f;'' '^//^e/ord Sg ^
ranging downwards from thirty to five "^'""^ ?„»' ""'/'/^„3u^„d
the diameter of the circle is increased. Smaller ^^^^f^'^'^'^^^
by intcrpohation between the snbdivi.ons,wtht^^^
reader which moves wnth the al'gne^- a < <|^
those of the simplest form aro supplied with one or inor
readers and spirit'levels and a telescope jt^iesemporta^^^^^^^^^^
which aro common to so many '"«'"1'""' J' ^Z' „, '"^ents whick
described, and afterwards the more important instruments w
are eniploVed in eonnexion with stin.y opo-a^ ^^^ ^.^^^
Circle readers are of two kinds,— tuo »«.'«""' "
LB.
SURVEYING
[rNSTRUMENTS.
Both are held over the circle at the extremity of a radial arm
pivoted over its centre. The vernier moves in contact with the
sorface of the circle, while the microscope views it a short distance
oflf; the former is usually applied to circles whose diameters do
not exceed 12 inches, the latter to those of larger diameter. Both
kinds of reader are applicable to linear scales as well as to graduated
circles, the microscope being usually employed when most precision
is desired.
The vernier is so called after its inventor, a Frenchman. Its
principle is very simple. The space between any convenient number,
?s, of graduations on the circle is set off on the vernier and divided
into (to + 1 ) eq ual parts ; then some one division of the vernier will
always coincide with a graduation of the circle. On counting the
divisions from the index onwards it is found that the coinciding
division, say the mth, of the vernier is opposite the mth gi-adua«
tion of the circle, counting from the last one passed by the index,
This indicates that the distance of the index from the last gradua'
tion is -2i- parts of the space between the graduations ; n is in*
variably taken as an odd number, such that the unit of (a + 1) may
be some convenient aliquot part of the circle, as a minute for a
cii'cle divided into degree spaces.
The micrometer microscope presents the combination of object
and eye glasses met with in ordinary microscopes, with the addition
of a wire-carryiug diaphragm, movable by a screw, for micrometric
measurements in the plane of the focus of the object-glase. The
tube is conical at the object end and cylindrical at the eye end ;
the box of the micrometer is mounted between these two parts at
right angles with the visual axis. The tube is held at the extremity
of the arm of an alidade, in a collar in which it may be moved closer
to cr away from the surface of the circle, or be turned round so as
to place the micrometer tangentially to the circle. The distance
between the micrometer and the object-glass is usually about four
times that between the object-glass and the face of the circle, and
thus a coiTespondingly magnitied image of the spaces between the
graduations is obtained in the plane of measurement The object-
glass is held in a small tube which can be screwed in or out of the
principal tube, to enable the length of the image to be adjusted to
an exact integral number of revolutions of the micrometer. Tlie
box of the micrometer and the wire diaphragm are rectangiilar, the
latter sliding to the right or left within the former. Slow motion
is communicated to the diaphragm by thf. micrometer screw, which
pta,'B> into it through a collar in one side of the box, against which
Ihr shoulder of the screw is pressed by an internal spiral spring
»cting against the sides of the diaphra™ and the box. The screw
15 lurnished with a circular head divided into a number of equal
parts— usually 60, each equivalent to 1" for circular arcs, and 100
for linear scales — and is rotated opposite an index arm fixed on the
box ; complete revolutions are marked by the teeth of a stationary
comb, which is fised above the wire of the diaphragm and viewed
with it through the eye-piece,
^irit The spirit-level consists of a glass tube not quite filled with
jivoL alcohol, a small quantity of air being left, which rises as a bubble
to the highest part of the tube. In small and coarse levels the
diameter of the tube is largest in the middle and decreases uni-
formly towards the ends, which are closed by the blow-pipe ; in
long and delicate levels the tube is cylindrical, but with a longi-
tudinal portion of the interior surface ground to the curvature of
a circle of greater or less radius according as the level is designed
to be more or less sensitive, and it is sometimes closed by circular
glass stoppers cemented into the ends. 'When the tube is held
horizontally, with the curved surface of the interior uppermost, the
middle part is occupied by the air bubble. Lines are etched on the
outer surface at equal distances from the central point, to enable
the tube to be set with the bubble exactly in the middle, or a scale
fraduated throughout its entire length is provided, to enable any
eviation from centricality to be measured and the corresponding
dislevelment to be calculated and allowed for subsequently in the
reduction of the observations. The glass tube is commonly fixed
in a metal tube, with plaster of Paris for protection ; but, as it is
then liable, under changes of temperature, to torsion and strain,
which may sensibly alter its curvature, it is preferable to place it
in a metallic cradle and rest it on cork bearings, with due provision
against sliding, the whole being covered with a glass cylinder if
need be for fui'ther protection. The metallic cradle or tube is
attached to any instrument on which the level is to be mounted
by adjusting screws, for setting it correctly with reference to the
axis of rotation with which it is associated. The value of a division
of the scale, in seconds of arc, is usually called the "run," and is
determined by attaching the level with its scale to a (generally)
vertical circle, and taking both the circle and the bubble end read-
ings in different positions of the circle. As the length of the
bubble is much affected by changes of temperature, and the curva-
ture of the tube may not be identical at a!! points, values of the
rtm are commonly obtained under widely differing temperatures.
The telescope consists of a tube, carrying an achromatic object-
^iss and an eye-piece which holds either a pair of lenses for viewing
the inverted image transmitted by the object-glass or a combina-
tion of four lenses for inverting the image and causing all objects
to be viewed naturally. The former is usually employed for ob-
serving celestial objects, the latter for observing terrestrial. The
field of view_ being more or less extensive, a central point is estab-
lished in the tube, usually by the intersection of a pair of fine wires
or spider lines — one vertical, the other horizontal — in the plane of
the image, and the telescope is directed by bringing this point on
any specific object iu the field. As the interval between the object-
glass and the image varies with the distance of the object, a tube
is provided to slide within the telescope tube and carry the object-
glass at one end, while the telescope tube carries the diaphragm
and eye-piece at the other end, or vice versa. The image and the
wires are brought into the same plane by a focusing screw, which
acts on the inner through the outer tube. The wii'es are attached
to the surface of an adjustable annular diaphragm, which is held
in position by two pairs of antagonizing screws — one pair horizontal,
the other vertical — with shoulders working against the exterior of
the tube iu which the diaphragm is contained, so as to move it to
the right or left and up or down, in order to bring the point of
intersection of the wires into the visual axis of the telescope. In
practice the first adjustment is to set the eye-piece to distinct vision
of the wires ; the object-glass is then set truly to focus, which is
accomplished when no apparent parallax, or movement of the image
relatively to the wires, is seen on shifting the position of the eye,
for this would indicate that the image is either in front of or behind
the plane of the wires. The line j-oining the point of intersection
of the wii-es with the centre of the object-"lass is called the " line
of collimation," and the diaphragm should be so fixed that this line
may always be perpendicular to the axis on which the telescope
revolves.
The surveying compass gives the magnetic bearing of any object, Surveyt
and is the simplest of all instruments for measuring horizontal ing cow
angles. It consists of a magnetized needle, with an agate centre, pass,
poised on the point of an upright pivot in the centre of the bottom
of a circular box and carrying a concentric circular card or silver ring,
the circumference of which is graduated into 360°, and is sometimes
further subdivided. The aligner is constituted by a pair of sight
vanes attached to the box at opposite extremities of a diameter,
one vane having a narrow slit for tlie eye to look through, the other
with a wider opening bisected by a vertical wire to be set on the
observed object. There is no circle reader, the prolongation of tlie
wire on to the graduations being estimated by the eye ; and there
is no level, for the circle poises itself horizontally on the supporting
pivot.
The prismatic compass is similar to the surveying compass, with Prisma-
the addition of a prism in the eye vane through which the wire of tic com.
the sight vane and the divisions of the circle are viewed apparently pass,
together ; the division with which the wire coincides when the
needle is at rest indicates the magnetic azimuth of any object bisected
by the wire. The sight vane carries a mirror turning on a hinge,
to enable objects to be seen by reflexion which may be too high to
be seen on the wire ; the eye vane is furnished with a pair of dark
glasses to be employed when the sun is being observed.
Magnetic instruments are useful for rapid reconnaissance and
rough survey, and for filling in the minor details of an exact survey,
but they are not to be relied on to give bearings with errors less
than ten to fifteen minutes. In plotting, however, bearings are
preferable to angles, for, by drawing a number of meridional lines
parallel to each other on the paper, each bearing may be plotted from
an independent meridian without any accumulation of error, such
as arises when a number of angles are plotted iu succession irith
the protractor adjusted on short Uncs.
The plane table is in its usual form simply a rectangular board
mounted horizontally on a stand, on which it may be turned round
and set in any required posiriou ; it is furnished with a flat sight
rule, which usually carries a pair of sight vanes and has a bevelled
edge, parallel to the line of sight, to serve as a ruler, also with a
magnetic needle. Occasionally the construction is more elaborate,
and the board is surrounded by a marginal frame with graduations
radiating from the centre as the degrees of a circle, so that it may
be used as an instrument for measuring horizontal angles, while the
sight rule is furnished mth a telescope, which takes the place of
the vanes and is mounted on an axle to measure vertical angles.
The size is made as great as is consistent with the limits of porta-
bility in each instance, so that the sheet of paper to be drawn on
may be as large as possible. The standard plane table of the Indian
Survey measures 30 inches by 24, and is made of planks of well-
seasoned wood 1 inch thick, with transverse edge bars below to
prevent warping and buckling. It is set up on a stand, usually
a braced tripod, to which it is clamped by a powerful hand screw
passing through the head of the stand into a brass socket fixed
centrally under the table ; the screw when relaxed serves as a
pivot, round which the table may be turned in azimuth and set in
any required position. The table is then firmly clamped so as
to maintain a constant position during all the subsequent laying
off of Iwarings. The sight rule is 30 inches long, 2 wide, and one-
rNSTRUMENTS.]
SURVEY IMG
719
third of an inch thick, of ebony, irith a hrass sight vane at each
end, and a fiducial edge parallel to the line of sight ; the vanes are
ahodt 5 inches high, which gives sufficient elevation and depression
for general use. The magnetic needle is about 6 inches long and
13 held in a rectangular brass box an inch broad, placed on the
table whilst it is being set and afterwards removed. Heights may
be deteroiined oij the spot with the aid of a clinometer, formed of
a bar carrying a spirit-level and a pair of sights, one of which has
a scale of tangents graduated to radius = the interval between the
sights. For the method of employing the table see § i, p. 709 above.
The theodolite, the most important of all instruments for the
purposes of a survey, is a combination of two graduated circles
placed at nght angles to each other, for the measurement of hori-
zontal and vertical angles, a telescope, which turns on axes mounted
centrically to the circles, and an alidade for each circle, wiiich
carries two or more readers of the arcs through which the telescope
is moved. The whole is supported by a pedestal resting on foot,
screws, which are also employed to level the instrument The size
varies from a minimum with circles 3 inches in diameter to a maxi-
mum with a 36-inch horizontal and an 18-inch vertical circle, the
weight ranging from 4 lb to 1000 lb ; the dimensions and magni-
fying powers of the telescope increase with the diameter of the
.horizontal circle. The telescope may be connected rigidly with
the alidade and move with it while, the circle remains stationary,
or with the circle and move with it while the alidade remains
stationary. The varieties of form aa well as of size are numerous :
in some the telescope may be completely turned round in altitude
as well as aziTiuth, and pointed to any object celestial or terrestrial ;
in others the range of movement in altitude is restricted to about
25° above and 25° below the horizon, and a pair of sectors are
substituted for the complete vertical circle ; in some the telescope
and vertical circle are placed between, in others outside of, the
pillars which support their common axis ; in some the pedestal
13 a simple tribrach resting on three foot-screws, in others it takes
the objectionable form of a ball carrying the vertical axis and a
socket holding the ball between two parallel plates, which are
antag(mized and set firm by two pairs of foot-screws, turning in
sockets fixed to the lo^ec plate, while their heads are pressed
against the upper plate, to fix it and bring the instrument into
level at the same time. There are numerous other specialities of
form which have been introduced to meet specific req^uirements ;
but these cannot be noticed hero.
Iransit The transit theodolite, is an alt - azimuth instrument with the
Iheodo- graduated circles of equal diameter, usually 6 to 8 inches. The
Ste" telescope is mounted between a pair of conical arms which taper
outwards and' end in cylindrical pivots, constituting what is called
the transit axis of the instrument. The pivots rest on Y's or in
semicircular collars, on the heads of a pair of pillars, which are
made of sufficient height to enable the telescope to revolve between
them and be pointed to stars in the zenith. These pillars stand
on a circular plate, which serves as the alidade of the horizontal
circle and is usually constructed to revolve round a vertical axis
fixed in the centre of the plate of the horizontal circle ; this axis
passes downwards into a socket in the centre of a tribrach, which
forms the pedestal of the instrument and rests on three mill-
headed foot -screws by which the instrument is levelled. The
vertical circle is mounted centrically on one of the cones of the
transit axis, near the pivot end ; its alidade, usually a rectangular
plate carrying a pair of verniers, is fitted centrically over that axis,
m contact with the circle but nearer the shoulder of the pivot, and,
while the telescope and the circle revolve together, it is held station-
ary by an adjustable arm the end of which is pinched between a pair
of antagonizing screws mounted on the nearest pillar. The alidade
of the horizontal circle carries two or three equidistant verniers,
because any error in centring an alidade over a circle is eliminated
in the mean of the readings whenever two or more verniers, placed
at equal distances apart round the circle, are read. A clamp, with
a tangent screw for communicating slow motion, ij attached to the
nearest pillar, to act on the verticalcircle and the telescope ; another
is attached to the plate of the horizontal circle, to act on the alidade
of that circle and so also on the telescope for azimuthal motion ; and
a third to the pedestal, to act on the plate of the horizontal circle.
The first two are employed in measuring the vertical and azimuthal
angles, the third in setting the zero-diameter of the horizontal circle
in any specific direction, with a view to the repetition of the mea-
surement" of the azimuthal angles at different parts of the circle.
For levelling the instrument, two levels are fixed at right angles
to each other on the plate of the alidade of the horizontal circle ;
a third is attached to tlie telescope, or, preferably, to the alidade of
the vertical circle ; a fourth is mounted on the transit axis when
levelling for astronomical observations. A magnetic compass or
needle is added, and also a plummet for centring tho instrument
over the station mark.
Theodolites are designed to measure horizontal angles with
greater accuracy than vertical, because it is on the former that the
mo?t important work of a survey depends, and they are measurable
■with greatest accuracy ; measures of vortical angles are liable to be
much impaired by variations in the refractive condition of the lowe»-
Etrata of the atmosphere, more particularly on long lines, so that
when heights have to be determined wth much accuracy the theo-
dohte must be discarded for a levelling instrument, to be set up
repeatedly with staves at short distances. When truly ac^usted the
theodolite measures the horizontal angle between any two objects
however much they may differ in altitude, as the polo star and any
terrestria' object ; but, as adjustments are not always made with
accuracy nor permanently maintained, it is desirable always to
take the observations in pairs, with tho face of the vertical circle
alternately to the right and left of the observer, for this eliminates
collimation error from the horizontal angles and index error ia tho
setting of the spirit-level from the vertical angles.
When a horizontal angle is measured several times for greater
accuracy, one of two methods of procedure is adopted. (1) The
angle is measured once or oftencr in the usual way, the horizontal
circle remaining clamped and the telescope and alidade moving
over it ; then the position of the horizontal circle is shifted ' Of
often as may be desired, and after each shifting the angle is again
measured as formerly ; thus a separate numerical result is obtained
for each operation. Or (2), the first object A having been observed
and the telescope set on the second object B, the horizontal circle
is undamped and turned round until the telescope is brought back
on A, when it is again clamped ; then the alidade is undamped and
the telescope again moved over the horizontal circle to be set on B.
The operation is repeated as often as may be desired. The vernier
readings are only taken for the first telescope pointing to A and
the last to B ; their diiferejice + 360° for every complete revolution
of the circle, divided by the number of repetitions, gives the angle.
This method is objectionable when a round of several angles has to
be measured, but it enables the value of a single angle — more par-
ticularly a small one, as between objects in the same field of the
telescope — to be determined accurately with much greater rapidity
than the first method.
An auxiliary telescope is sometimes fixed below the plate of tho
horizontal circle of a theodolite, to be pointed to a referring mark
while the upper telescope is being moved about, and thus to serve as
a check on the general stability of the instrument and on the per-
manence of the initial setting of the circle during the measurement
of a round of angles. When a theodolite is set up on a lofty
scaffolding which is liable to be swayed by the wind, or on a stand
which cannot be readily isolated from the observer, horizontal
angles may be measured accurately by employing a second observer
to keep the auxiliary telescope truly pointed to a referring mark
while the observing telescope is being pointed.
The subtense transit theodolite differs from the ordinary transit
theodolite merely in having a pair of wire-carrying micromcler.1
mounted in the telescope tube, in order that the small angle sub-
tended by a distant object of known dimensions, or by two oLjccIs
sufficiently near each other to be seen in the same field of thn tele-
scope, may be measured with greater facility and precision than on
the graduated circles in the usual way. The micrometers are hcM
in a rectangular box, one on the right hand, the other on tho li-ff,
with the wires brought as closely as possible into tho plana of ihn
fixed wires in the ordinary diaphragm ; the box can be turned on.
the telescope tube through an angle of rather inore than 90", to
enable the micrometer wires to be set parallel to either the Iiori-
zontal or the vertical wire of the diaphragm, or to be placed at any
desired angle of inclination. The subtense object usually employed
in survey work is a pole of known length ; if held perpendicularly
to the line of sight of the telescope, its direct distance may be
determined from the angle measured by the micrometers with a
sufficiently small percentage of error to make this method preferable
to chaining over rough ground. Tho instrument has been advan-
tageously employed in carrying traverse? of considerable length over
ground which was impracticable tor direct linear measurements.
The micrometers are also serviceable in astronomical observations
for time and longitude, for they give additional wires on which to
observe the passage of a star, at distances from the fixed wire which
may be varied with the speed of the star ; and for determining the
longitude they permit numerous measures of the distance between
the edge of the moon and a star to- be taken, immediately before
and after occultation.
Eckhold's omnimcter is a theodolite furnished with a micros' ope
of considerable magnitude facing a graduated linear scale ; the ,>ib<-
of the microscope is rigidly attached to tho telescope tube, either
at right angles or parallel to it, so that tho two' always move to-
gether. Tho scale is fixed either parallel or perpendicular to the
alidade plate of the horizontal circle ; thus, when the telescope is
moved through vertical arcs within tho range of the scale, the
tangents of the arcs aro measured by tho microscope on the scale.
The latest and best form of the instrument is shown in fig. 8,
which represents a transit theodolite converted into an omniranfer
by the application of a microscope AR to the tolcsropc «t right
1 This Is often clone arbitrarily, but syslfinatir Khifts "lilch hrlnn fqilWlJ-
tant graduations of ttie circle under Iho vcrnii-ra durlnc «ll llie t<'le«cop« (lomt-
ings to ony one ol(jcct ore always preferable (SCO sect. 1.. « fl, p. 698 above).
720
SURVEYING
angles to it, and of & scale C to the plate of the aliJade of the hori-
zontal circle in a plane Darallel to that of the vertical circle. The
[rNsTHUMENTS.
microscope is
furnished with a
iliagonal eye-
piece, through
■which the obser-
ver looks down
on the scale. The
scale is divided
into 100 equal
parts, andis mov-
able in its bed-
plate through
the length of
one of these di-
visions by one
rotation of a mi-
crometer screw,
with a large
head, D, the cir-
cumference of
■which is divided
into 100 equal
parts, each divi-
sible into fifths
by a vernier. The
microscope has a
fixed wire in a
diaphragm at its
eye end. A, and,
■when the tele-
scope is set on
an object and
the ■wire is seen-
tetween a pair of
<livisions on the
scale, the scale is
moved by the micrometer screw nntU the nearest division is brought
Tinder the wire ; the scale reading corresponding to the horizontal
position of the telescope being known, the difference between it
and the reading when the telescope is pointing above or below the
horizontal plane is the tangent of the arc of elevation or depression,
to radius = the perpendicular from the axis of rotation of the tele-
scone to the scale. Thus «
both the distance and
the height of any point "
over ■which a staff of
known length has been ^
set up vertically may bo
readily determined with
fair accuracy. Let 0 (fig.
9) be the position- of the
■ti-ansit axis of the telescope, OA the direction of the telescope
•when horizontal, and Oa, the corresponding direction of the micro-
scope at_ right angles to the scale amn; let M be a distant point
over which the staff MN has been set up vertically, and let m
and » be the graduations under the microscope when the tele-
IrrT '^j P°"i*i°? to tli« bottom and top of the staff; then, since
MN3.-iii.0a are known, the horizontal distance OA and the height
'JiU are deternuned from the proportions
OA:Oa \ „,^
• It IS essential that the focusing tube of the microscope should
always move parallel to the visual axis when different divisions
of the scale are being brought into foeus, otherwise errors materially
exceeding the quantities appreciable ^y the micrometer may be
caused. The linear results thus obtained are satisfactory when the
subtense staff is set up at a moderate distance; the instrument
has often been used with advantage in localities where measur-
ing chains could not be conveniently employed. As an angular
instrument it is identical with the ordinary transit theodoUt°e, as
wiU be seen from the figure, which may be referred to as illus-
trating the description of that instrument; the foot-screws are
represented as restmg on a pkte such as is usually fixed on the
head of a folding tnpod stand, their lower extremities, as well as
the grooves in which they afe placed on the plate, being concealed
Jrom view by a capping upper plate, which is clamped over their
snoiUders to prevent the instrument from faUing off the stand
In any theodolite with a telescope of the ordinary form the height
ot the pillars must necessarily be somewhat greater than half the
.length of the telescope if stars in the zenith are to be observed or
It the telescope is to be completely rotated on its transit axis • the
higher the pillars the higher the centre of gravity, the less perfect
the stability of the instrument when set up for observation, and the
greater its weight and cumbersomeness for transport. lo Germany
and RiiRsia theodolites and transit instruments are sometimes em-
Fig. 9.
ployed in which the eye end of the telescope tube is removed— a
counterpoise to the object end being substituted in its place • and
a prism is inserted at the intersection of the visual axis with the
transit axis, so that the rays of light from the object-glass may be
reflected through one of the tubes of the transit axis to an eye-piece
in the pivot of this tube. In this case the pillars need only be high
enough for the counterpoise to pass freely over the plate of the
horizontal circle ; but the observer has always to place himself at
n^t angles to the direction of the object he is observing.
The levelling instrument consists of a telescope which carries a
long spirit-level parallel to itself and is mounted on a horizontal
plate, which is fixed rigidly either on the head of a vertical axis
revolvmg withm a socket in the centre of the pedestal or on that
ot a hollow cone revolving round a vertical axis which projects
upwards from the pedestal There are various forms of the instra-
ment ; in the Y-level the telescope rests on a pair of Y's, in which it
can be both rotated and turned end for end ; in the dumpy level'
the telescope is rigidly attached to its supports, and its tube is
made shorter and of greater diameter, to carry an object-glass of
shorter focal length and larger aperture. A magneHc compass is
attached to the instrument to enable the bearings of the levelling
staves to be taken whenever desired. Levelling staves are of a
variety of patterns and are graduated in various ways, best on
both faces and dissimilarly, for a check on accidental errors of
reading, as indicated in sect. III.
Reflecting levels are portable instruments which may be held by Eeflecta
the hand for rough and rapid survey work. They are of two forms : levels.
m one an image of the eye of the observer, in the other an imatre
of the bubble of a spirit-level, is seen by reflexion on a level with
the observed object. The first consists of a square of common
looking-glass, which is set in a frame suspended from a ring on the
hne of prolongation of one of the diagonals in such a manner as to
swmg freely but not turn round on its axis of suspension ; the frame
13 weighted by a metal plate behind, to which it is so adjusted
that, when suspended, the plane of the surface of the mirror will be
vertical. A small portion of the glass at one end of the horizontal
diagonal is either cut away or unsilvered. WTien the image of
the observer's eye is seen on the diagonal, aU objects bisected by
the diagonal, whether viewed through the opening in the mirror
or by reflexion, are on the level of the eye. The second consists
of a tube open at the object end and closed at the eye end by a
disk which is perforated with a sight hole ; a mirror filling up half
the section is fixed in the tube, facing the eye end at an angle of
45° with the axis ; and an all-roimd transparent spirit-level is
mounted over an opening above the mirror, and its bubble is seen
by reflexion in the axis of the tube. Abney's level is of the latter Abae^
construction, but with the spirit-level attached to the alidade of a leveL '
graduated arc fixed to one side of the (rectangular) tube ; thus
vertical angles as well as levels may be determined with it.
The optical square is a reflecting instrument indicating a right Opticd
angle, and is of great use in laying off perpendiculars for the square'
measurement of offsets from a line of survey. It consists of two '
glass plates, one wholly the other partially silvered, which are fixed
permanently in a shallow circular box at an angle of 45°, so that
any two objects seen together through a sight hole in the box-
one directly through the transparent portion, the other by reffexion
in the mirror of the partially silvered glass plate— subtend an
angle of 90° at the point where the observer is standing.
Flolting and Plot-measuring Instruments.— These comprise linear Plotth^
scales, common compasses, and angular protractors for laying off instm-
distances and angles measured on the ground, proportional com- ments.
passes and pantagraphs for reproducing a finished plot on some
other scale, and opisometers and planimeters for measuring plotted
lines and areas.
Scales are divided, either decimally or fractionally, into equal Scales^
parts, each of which is a portion of a fixed unit of length, as a foot
or an inch ; some are subdivided more or less minutely through-
out their entire length between a pair of parallel lines ; others are
subdivided at their extremities only. Diagonal scales are formed
by eleven equidistant parallel lines, the outer ones of which are
divided primarily and subdivided into tenths at their extremities.
The primary divisions are joined by cross lines perpendicular to
the eleven parallel lines ; the end subdivisions are joined diagon-
ally, the first on the lower line with the second on the upper, and
so on, each diagonal cutting every horizontal line in a point a tenth
of a subdirision beyond the cutting point on the parallel line
below, as measured from any one of the perpendicular lines ; . and
each of these tenths is further divisible into tenths by measuring
from the perpendicular at intervals of tenths between the paralld
lines ; thus great precision of measurement is obtained.
The Marquois scale and triangle consist of a scale divided Mar-
throughout into equal parts more or less minutely and a right- qnois
angled triangle of which the hypothenuse is three times the shortest scale antj
side. An arrow is drawn perpendicular to the hypothenuse to trianglo,
serve as a pointer to the divisions of the scale. The"^third side has
a bevelled edge for ruling. When the triangle is placed with its
hypothenuse against the scale and is moved along it, all lines drawg
ntSTRUMENTS.] S U II V E Y I
alonK the bevelled edge are parallel to each other, their distances
.^rT i,»ln<T nns.third of the disunces travelled by the arrow along
N G
721
mart being one-third of the disunces trav
Compasses usually take thfl form of a pair of legs movable about
a ioint, so that their extremities, which are of steel, finely pointed,
may be set at any required distance apart ; the legs may be knee-
iointed and one is usually adapted to hold either a pencil, a ruling
pen or a steel pointer, as may be desired. A beam compass is em-
nloved when long lengths are laid off; it consists of a light tubular
metal bar, or a rectangular deal rod, fitted with a pair of boxes
which slide along it and carry either pen, pencil, or pointer, and
may be set and clamped at any desired distance apart. _
Proportional compasses consist of two parts so exactly siniilar
that when held in contact throughout they appear as one ; each is
pointed at both ends, flat and grooved through one-half its length
and tapering to a point in the other half. The two are coupled
together by a pair of similar sliders, one for each groove, turning
on a common axle which carries a disk at one end and a clamping
screw at the other ; by shifting the position of the sliders in the
"Tooves the distances between the points at the opposite enas can
be brought into any desired proportion. The settings for different
proportions are effected by bringing a line on the slider opposite
the lines of a fractional scale engraved on one side of the groove.
Protractors are of two forms circular (or semicircular) and rect-
angular ; the circumferences of the former are divided into 360 or
J80°; the latter are divided on three sides of their periphery by
lines drawn from the centre of the fourth side to the degree points
on the circumference of a semicircle of which that side is the
diameter. The protractor being set with its centre on a given
point and its zero line on a given line passing through the point,
any angle with this line at the point can be readily laid off. Pro-
tractors for plotting traverses are commonly annular, that they may
be centred over the station of origin with the zero diameter on
the initial meridian ; their bearings at any other station may be
laid off without moving the protractor by dra^ving lines parallel
to the same bearings at the origin. Rectangular protractors some-
times have parallel lines engraved on their faces at equal distances,
for setting over paper ruled with parallel lines at unequal distances,
and their backs engraved with scales of rhumbs, sines, secants, and
tangents and common scales of equal parts. _
The station pointer enables the position of any station at which
angles between three fixed points have been measured to be plotted
on paper. It consists of three arms : the centre arm carries a
graduated circle fixed over an axis at one end ; the other two are
movable round this axis, and each carries a vernier for reading the
circle. Each arm has a straight edge bevelled as a ruler, and the
lines on the prolongations of these edggs meet in the centre of the
axis, where there is a small opening through which a point may be
pricked on the paper. The arms having been set to the observed
angles, the instrument is moved about until each edge is over one
of the fixed points on the paper, when its centre will be exactly over
the position of the station if none gf the angles are very acute. The
instrument is much used in nautical surveying, for laying down
the position of a vessel at sea by angles measured to fixed objects
on shore. .
The triangular compass is serviceable in reproducing plans to
full scale ; it is formed by jointing a third leg to the centre pin of
the joint of an ordinary pair of compasses, so as to bo movable in
any direction.
The pantagraph is employed in reproducing a map on a different
— genei-ally a smaller— scale. It consists of two long arms, AB
and AC, jointed together at A,
and two siiort arms, FD and FE,
jointed together at F and with
the long arms at D and F; FD
is made exactly equal to AE and
FE to AD, so tliat ADFE is a
true parallelogram whatever tho
angle at A. The instrument is
supported parallel to the paper oii^.
ivory castors, on which it moves
freely. A tnbo is usually fixed .
vertically at c, near tho extremity of tlio long arm AC, and similar
tubes are mounted on plates wliich slide along the short arms
BD and FD ; they are intended to hold either tho axle pin on a
weighted fulcrum round which the rnstruracnt turns, or a steel
pointer, or a pencil, interchangeably. 'When the centres of the
tubes are exactly in a straight line, as on tho dotted line 6/c, the
small triangle h/D will always bo similar to tho large triangle bcA ;
and then, if the fuleruiu is placed under b, tlio pencil at/, and the
pointer at c, when tlio instrument is moved round the fulcrum
as a pivot, the pencil and the pointer will move parallel to each
other tliroiidi distances which will be respectively in the propor-
tion of hf to be i thus the pencil at /draws a reduced copy of tho
map under tlie pointer at c ; if tlio pencil and the pointer were
intiTchan''ed an enl.irgcd copy would be drawn ; if the fnlcnim aii.t
Iiencil were intefchangcd, and tho sliders set for / to bisect be,
22—26
the map wonld be copied exactly. Lines are engraved on the arms
BD and FD, to indicate the positions to which the sliders must ba
set for the ratios \,l which are commonly required.
The square pantagraph of Adrian Gavard consists of two graduated
arms which are pivoted on a plain bar and connected by a graduated
bar sliding between them throughout their entire length, to be set
at any required distance from the plain bar ; a sliding plate carr>'ing
a vertical tube, to hold either the axle of the fulcrum, the pencil,
or the pointer, is mounted on one of the arms and on a prolongation
of the i)lain bar beyond the other arm, and also on the graduated con-
necting bar ; and an additional arm is provided by means of which
reductions below or enlargements above the scales given on tho
instrument can be readily effected.
The eidograph is designed to supersede the pantagraph, which
is somewhat unsteady, having several supports and joints. It is
composed of three graduated bars, one of which is held over a ful-
crum and carries the others, which are lighter, one at each extremity.
The three bars are movable from end to end in box-sockets, each
having an inde.x and a vernier in contact with the graduated scale.
Tlie box-socket of the principal bar turns round the vertical axlo
of the fulcrum ; that of each side Ixir is attached to a vertical axle,
which also carriss a grooved wheel of large diameter and turns in
a collar at either end of the principal bar. The two wheels are of
exactly the same diameter and are connected by a steel band fitting
tightly into the grooves, so that they always turn together through
identical arcs ; thus the side bars over wliich they are respectively
mounted, when once Set parallel, turn with them and always remain
parallel. A pointer is held at che end of one of the side bars and
a pencil at the diagonally opposite end of the other. The bars may
be readily set by their graduaied scales to positions in which the
distances of the pencil and the pointer from the fulcrum will always
be in tlie ratio of the given and the required map scales.
The opisometer is intended to measure the lengths of roads, rivers,
and other lines on a map. It consists simply of a milled wheel
mounted in a forked handle on a steel screw with a very fine thread.
The wheel, being turned up to one end of the screw, is put down
on the map wdth tlie handle held vertically over the point at which
the measurement is to commence, and is run over the road or line
until the point is reached at which the measurement is to stop ; it
is then lifted off the paper, placed on the scale of the map, and run
backwards to the initial end of the screw, over a length of the scale
which corresponds to the length run over on the map.
The polar planimeter was invented by. Professor Amsler ofPolai
SchalThausen for the measurement of areas on maps and plans. It plani^
consists essentially of two arms jointed together and a roller, car- metae
ried at right angles to one of the arms and moving in touch with
the paper, which by its revolutions records the area of a figure whose
perimeter is traced by a point on that arm, while the iustrument
is turned bodily on a
point on the other arm
as a fixed centre. There
are two forms of the
instrument : in one the
position of the roller is
fixed and the arms are
jointed on a common
pinion; in the other the Fig
roller and a pinion, to ,.,,,•,
which the holding arm is attached, are both carried by a slider,
which is movable along the tracing arm and can be set at any
ired distance from tho tracing point. Tho first form gives
ingle unit of measure only; the second in various unit.s.
;d fifuro represents tho first form, showing the joint .f/,
luc v.a^i..g poTnt F, tho fixed point 0, and the roller with its
graduated dial and vernier, for indicating the lengths of lino rolled
while the tracer ''
reqn:
areas in a si
The annexed ^
the tracing point !■
over
moves round the peri-
meter of the ax'ca under
measurement.
Tho following ex-
planation of the theory
of tho instrument is
duo to Professor Green-
hill. Let OA, AP bo
the two arms jointed at
A, with the fixed point
at 0 and the tracer at P,
and suppose tho wheel
to be fixed at li on tho
prolongation of the
arm PA. Let OA = a,
AP=b, Al! = c, and the
radius of the rollcr = r; .^ .. _• ..,
and li't the direction of ' ,,-''^'I"" j ,>
a positive rotation of tho roller, as marked by the pradualloni,
be lliat of rotation on a right-handed screw on lh« axle of if whicl»
would give motion in tlio direction AJi. Dion the perpendicular
722
S U S — S U S
01 from 0 on AR, and first suppose the joint A to be clamped.
Then, if / is in AR produced, a rotation of the instrument about 0
with angular velocity w will give to R the component velocities O/.u
in the direction IR and IB. u in the direction perpendicular to
IE, and will therefore compel the roller to turn with the angular
R7
Telocity — u ; but, if / is on the other side of ii, the angular velocity
of the roller will be u. Therefore, keeping A clamped, the
roller will turn through an angle — fl or 6, according as / is
or is not on the same side of R as A, when the instrument is
rotated through an angle 6 about 0 ; but, when / coincides with E,
the roller will not turn, and then P describes a circle, called the
"zero circle," represented by the middle dotted circular line, of
radius
'■J(0R- + RI^) = s/{a"-<? + ib + cY]=^J{a- + b" + '2.hc).
Next unclamp the joint A and clamp the arm OA ; then the roller
will turn through an angle — ^, whUe upturns through an angle tp.
Now suppose P to travel round the finite circuit PP^P^P^ by a
combination of the preceding motions in the following order. (1)
Clamp the joint, and move P to P, and A to A^ on arcs of circles
of centre 0; then the roller will turn through an angle — e,
0 'hiuig = AOA^ = POPy (2) Unclamp the joint and clamp the
arm, and move the pointer from Pj to Po on the arc of a ciicle of
centre A^; then the roller will turn thrcv.gh an angle = — tj>, <f>
being=Pi^,Pij. (3) Unclamp the arm and clamp the joint, and
move the pointer from P, backwards to P3 and A^ to A, on arcs of
circles of centre 0, through an angle 6 ; then the roUer will turn
through an angle ' B, if 0/j is the perpendicular from 0 on P^A.
(4) Unclamp the joint and clamp the arm, and move the pointy
from Pj to P on the arc of a cu-cle of centre A, and consequentlj*
through an angle 0 ; the roller will turn through an angle- - 0,
which cancels the angle due to motion (2). Thus'in completing
the finite circuit PP^P„P^ the roller will have turned through an
angle (P/-i2/,)p = (^/-^/i)^.
But the area PPiPJ'3 = area PPjQiQ,
= sector OPPj - sector OQQi=i{OP- - OP.-)e,
= h{0A- + AP'- + 1AI.AP-{6A- + AP'
+ 2ATj.AP)} e
= {AI-AI^)b9,
= br times the angle turned through by the
roller.
The area PP^P„P^ is therefore b times the travel of the circum-
ference of the roller.
Any irregular area, supposed to be built up of infinitesimal ele-
ments found in the same manner as PP^P^P^, will be accurately
measured by the roller when the point P completes a circuit of the
perimeter, the arm AP being free to turn on the joint at A and the
arm OA on a fixed point 0. If, however, 0 is inside the area, the
area of the zero circle must be added to the area deduced from
the readings of the roller. When the roller is fixed permanently,
this area is constant, and is usually engraved on the arm in units
of the adopted length b ; when the roller is held on a slider which
also carries the pinion of the arm OA, the length b may be so
adjusted that the areas described will be expressed in any desired
unit of measure.
Literature and Authonties consvlted. — Accounts 0/ the Operations of ihe Great
Trigonometrical Survey of India ; Manual of Surrey for India ; Col. A. R.
Clarke, Geodesy', Methods and Processes of the Ordnance Survey; Col. Water-
house, On the Application of Photography to Maps and Plans ; and Professional
Papcnofthe Royal Engineers. (J, T. W.)
SUSA, the Biblical Shpshan, capital of Susiana or
Elam and from the time of Darius I. the chief residence
of the Achaemenian kings, was a very ancient city, which
had been the centre of the old monarchy of Elam and
undergone many vicissitudes before it fell into the hands
of the Persians (see Elam). The site of the town, which
has been fixed by the explorations of Loftus and Church-
ill, lies in the plain, but within sight of the mountains,
between the courses of the Kerkha (Choaspes) and the
Dizftd, one of the affluents of the Pasitigris. The Shipiir,
a small tributary of the Dizful, washes the eastern base of
the ruin-mounds of Siis or Shiish. Thus the whole district
was fruitful and well watered, fit to support a great city ;
the surrounding rivers with their canals gave protection
and a waterway to the Persian Gulf • while the position
of the town between the Semitic and Iranian lands of the
empire was convenient for administrative purposes. It
is not therefore surprising that Susa became a vast and
populous capital ; Greek writers assign to it a circuit of
115 or 20 miles, — a statement which is fairly well borne
out by the remains. These include three main mounds,
pf which one is identified with the strong citadel > and
a second shows the relics of the great palace built by
Darius I. and completed by Artaxerxes Mnemon. Susa
was still a place of importance imder the Sasanians, and
after having been razed to the ground in consequence of a
revolt seems to have been rebuilt by Shdpiir II. under the
name of ErAnshahr-Shilpur (Noldeke, Gesc/i. d. Fevser avs
Tahari, p. 58). The fortifications were destroyed at the
time of the Moslem conquest (Mokaddasi, p. 307) ; but the
site, which is now deserted, was inhabited in the Middle
Ages, and a seat of sugar-manufacture.
Tn Daniel viii. 2 the river of Shushan is called Ulai, a name
which is identical with Avrai of the Bundehesh and Eulseus of
classical writers. What is told of the Euh-eus makes it impossible
to identify it with the inconsiderable Shapur; but authorities differ
as to whether it is another name for the Choaspes or rather denotes
* The Greeks called the citadel the '}>Uiivl:viov (Strabo, rv. 3, 2), and
supposed it to have been founded by the Ethiopian Memnon. It was
Btrong enough to withstand Molon in his war with Antiochus the
Great (Polyb., v. 48^.
the Dizful or the Pasitigris.. Susa in the days of its greatnes)
must have stretched nearly from river to river. There is a sanc-
tuary of the tomb of Daniel on the banks of the Shapur, and Arabic
geographers relate that this tomb was a frequented shrine before
the Moslem conquest and that the Arabs turned the stream over
the grave.
SUSA, a city of Italy, in the province of Turin, 33^
miles west of Turin by the railway which passes by the
Mont Cenis tunnel into France, is situated on the Dora
Kiparia (tributary of the Po) at 1625 feet above the sea,
and is so protected from the noi:thern winds by the
Rocciamelone that it enjoys a milder %vinter climate than
Turin itself. The city walls, 20 to 30 feet broad at the
base, were about 50 feet in height, but in 1 789 their ruinous
condition caused them to be reduced by about half their
elevation. Numerous remains of Roman buildings and
works of art still show the importance of the ancient town ;
and the triumphal arch erected by Cottius in honour of
Augustus still stands on the old Eoman road between Italy
and Gaul, — a noble struetiue, 45 feet high, 39 broad,
and 23 deep. The inscription, now illegible, mentioned
foiurteen " civitates " subject to Cottius. Among tlje
modern buildings of Susa the first place belongs to ths
church of San Giusto, founded in 1 02 9 by Olderico Manf redi
n. and the countess Berta, and in 1772 raised to be the
cathedral. The population of the city was 3254 in 1871
and 3305 in 1881 (commune, 4418).
Segusio (also Sccusio, Siosium, Seutium, Sencia, &c. ) was at a
very early period the chief town of this Alpine region, and thn
Cottian Alps themselves preserve the name of the Se^usian chief
Cottius, who mth the title of prsefectus became a tributary and ally
of Rome in the reign of Augustus, and left his state strong enough
to maintain its independence till the reign of Nero.* As a Roman
municipium and military post Segusio continued to flourish. After
the time of Charlemagne a marquisate of Susa was establislied ; and
the town became in the 11th century the capital of the famous
countess Adelaide, who was mistress of the whole of Piedmont. On
his retreat from Lcgnano, Barbarossa set fire to Susa ; but the
town became more than e^'er important when Emanuel Philibert
fortified it at great expense in the 16th century.
SUSA (^Susa), a city of Tunis, on the coast of the gulf
of HamAma, 33 miles south of Ham^ma. It occupies the
side of a hill sloping seawards,- and is still, as far as the
town proper is concerned, surrounded with heavy white-
I
L
■VOL. XXII
SUSSEX.
PLATE XI
Page 713.
\
s u s — s u s
72:i
■washed Oriental-looking ■walls. The Kasr al-Rihdt, a
square building flanked by seven bastions, was probably
either a Roman or Byzantine fortress, and a Byzantine
chapel is now transformed into the Kahzvat al-Kuhba or
Caf6 of the Dome. Since the French annexation the
citadel, built on the highest point within the to-n-n, has'
been entirely restored and serves as the headquarters of
the general commanding a division ; and a camp of tile-
roofed brick buildings has been erected in the neighbour-
hood. The space ■n-ithin the ■walls is proving too limited
for the growth of the population, and houses already
extend along the shore to north and south for about a
.mile. Susa is the ancient seaport of Kairwan (45 miles
'inland), -with which it is connected by a horse-tramway,
and it has a rapidly increasing commerce. In 1864 the
■port was visited by about 195 vessels, in 1885 by 701, of
which 532 were Italian. The exports in 1885 were valued
at £1,371,510 (oil, to Genoa and Leghorn, £232,530;
grain, largely to Sicily, £397,760 ; sansa or olive refuse, to
France, £13,715; esparto, a comparatively recent article
for this port, £17,935), and the imports (including build-
ing-stone from Sicily and Malta, brick. Lime, marble, and
timber) amounted to £660,135. The population, which
numbered 8000 in 1872 (2000 Jews, 1000 Christians),
had increased to upwards of 10,000 in 1886.
Susa is the ancient Hadp.umetdm {q.v.). In 1537 it was besieged
by the marquis of Terra Nova, in the service of Charles V., and in
1539 was captured for the emperor by Andrea Doria. But as soon
as the imperial forces ■were withdraw-n it became again the seat of
Turkish piracy. The town was attacked by the French and the
Boiights of St John in 1770, and by the 'Venetians in 1764.
SUSANNA ("Lily"), the heroineof one of the apocryphal
additions to the Greek text of the book of Daniel, the
others being the Sung of the Three Children and the story
of Bel and the Dragon. In the English version the story
of the virtuous Susanna — the false accusation brought
against her by the elders and her deliverance by the judg-
ment of Daniel— is put as a .separate book. Jerome, in his
Preface to Daniel, points out that it had been observed both
by Jews and Christians that this story was certainly written
by a Greekj and not translated from Hebrew, since Daniel
makes a scries of Greek puns on the names of trees.
SUSSEX, a maritime county in the south of England,
lying between 50° 43'. and 51° 9' N. lat. and 0° 49' E. and
0° 58' W. long. It is 76 miles from Lady Holt Park to
Kent Ditch, and 28 miles from Tunbridge 'Wells to Eeachy
Head, and adjoins Kent on the N.E., Surrey on the N.,
Hampshire on the W., and the English Channel on the S.
Its total area is 933,269 acres or 1458 square miles.
The range of chalk hills known as the South Do-wns
divides the county into two districts — that of the coast
and that of the Wealden — which are of unequal extent
and possess very different characteristics. In the west-
ern part of the county the South Do^wns are about 10
iniles distant from the sea ; they continue eastwards for
about 45 miles, and terminate in the bold headland of
Beachy Head. Their average height is about 500 feet,
though some of the summits reach 700 (Ditchling Beacon,
813 feet; Chanctonbury King, 783; Firle Beacon, 700;-
and the Devil's Dyke, 697). The Forest Ridge extends
through the northern part of the county from Potworth
to Crowborough, reaching the coast in Fairlight Down.
The principal summits are Crowborough Beacon (796 feet),
Brightling Hill (647), and Fairlight Down (528). The
county has suffered greatly from incursions of the sea.
The site of the ancient cathedral of Selsey is now a mile
out at sea. Between 1292 and 1340 upwards of 5500
kcres were submerged. In tho early part of the 14 th cen-
tury Pagham harbour was formed by a sudden irruption
of the sea, devastating 2700 acres. Recently all this and
has been reclaimed and again brought under cultivatien.
There is considerable reason for believing that the whole
coast-liBe of the county has been slightly raised in the last
800 years (possibly by earthquake shock), as the large
estuaries at the river mouths no longer exist, and the
archipelago round Pevensey (eye signifies "island") hai
only a slight elevation above the neighbouring marsh land.
The rivers are small and unimportant. The principal
are tho Bother, the Cuckmerc, the Ouse, the Adur, the
Arun, and the Lavant. The Rother rises in the Forest
Ridge, in the parish of Rotherfield, and enters the sea near
Rye, its course having been diverted by a great storm on
12th October 1250, before which date its exit was 12
miles to the east, beyond Dungeness. The Cuckmere also
rises in the Forest Ridge, near Heathfield, and empties itself
into the sea a little to the east of Scaford, The Ouse rises
in St Leonards Forest, to the north-west of Lindfield, and,'
passing through Isfield and Lewes, enters the sea at New-
haven, now the principal port in the county. The former,
outlet was at Seaford, but in the reign of Elizabeth the sea
broke through the beach bank at some warehouses just
below Bishopstone and formed what is now caUed the old|
harbour, which was in use untU the Newhaven one was]
made a safer exit. The Adur has three sources, all in the]
neighbourhood of St Leonards Forest, and flows southwards,)
entering the sea at Southvrick. The mouth of the river,
formerly shifted from year to year, ranging both east and]
west over a distance of 2 miles. The Arun rises in Sr
Leonards Forest, in the parish of SLinfold, flows through,
Amberley and Arundel, and enters the sea at Littlehampton;
The Lavant has its source in Charlton Forest and encircles
Chichester on all sides except the north, entering the sea
through creeks in the extreme south-west corner of the
county.
The portion oi tne county to tne north of the South
Downs is called the 'Weald ; it formerly formed part of the
forest of Andredsweald (" the wood or forest without habit
ations"), which was 120 miles in length and about 30 in
breadth. The total area of forests in 1885 was 113,043
acres, being the greatest of any county in England. About
1660 the total was estimated at over 200,000 acres. The
chief remains of the ancient forests ar.e Tilgate, Ashdo^mi,'
and St Leonards, but the names in many parts indicate
their former wooded character, as Hurstpierpoint (hurst
meaning "wood"), Midhurst, Fcrnhurst, Billingshurst,'
Ashurst, and several others. The forests were interspersed
with lagoons, and the rainfall being very great caused
marshes and the large river estuaries ; the rainfaU, how-
ever, abated in consequence of the cutting down of tho
Wealden forests for fuel in tho extensive ironworks that
formerly existed in that district. The wood was exported
in the reign of Edward VI.
The greater portion of the county is occupied by tho
Chalk formation, of which tho South Do^mis are almost
entirely composed. Firestone is found in tho west, aiid
Steyning is built upon it. At the base of tho Do-mis the
Qrcensand crops up, but is of small extent. Tho Wealden
formations occupy nearly all the inland district of the
county, and in these was found tho ironstone from which
iron was extracted. Sussex was at ono time tlio centre of
the English iron manufacture; before 1653 there were 43
iron-forges or mills (reduced to 18 before 1667) and 27
furnaces (reduced to 11 before 1664), which employed
50,000 men ' and furnished tho jnain supjily of ordnance
for tho national defence. Tho last forgo at "Aslibur)ilian»
was not extinguished until 1809. Between 1872 and 1S76|
boring was carried on at Nethorfield, near Battle, with 111*
object of discovering what bods were below tho Woaldoa
and if possible of reaching the Palccozoic rocks, which ok
' Sum. Arch. Coll., ixxii. jip. 22-lS,
724
SUSSEX
Kentish Town, Harwich, Ostend, and Calais had been found
at a depth of about 1000 feet below the sea-leveL Some
Blight hope ■was entertained' of the occurrence of Coal-
measures, as in the Boulonnais the Carboniferous limestone,
where last seen, dips south. The boring was continued to
a depth of 1905 feet, the Oxford Clay being reached. The
chijf result was the discovery of the unusual thickness of
the Kimmeridge Clay, which began at 275 feet from the
surface and continued to a depth of about 1469 feet. The
jnost practical result was the finding of thick beds of gyp-
Bum (at about 160 feet), which were before imknown in the
■Weald and are now worked at Netherfield. From Beachy
Head to Selsey Bill there lies, south of the Downs, a low
and level tract belonging to the Tertiary period, of which
there is no such record at any other place in England.
The tovras of Hove, Worthing, Littlehampton, Bognor, &c.,
^re built on gravel, sand, and loam of the Post-Pliocene or
jPleistocene series, and these superficial beds overlie the
Eocene series in patches and contain a large fossil fauna.
Remains of the mammoth occur in the mud deposit (or
Lutraria clay) of this .district, and the Chichester museum
contains the greater portion of a fine skeleton of the Elephas
antiquus obtained off Selsey Bill. Of the British Quater-
nary fossils forty-five are peculiar to Selsey, and twenty
others probably find here their earliest place in British
geological history. The Bracklesham beds occur at the
bay of that name, and their main divisions extend from
Wittering on tlie west to the Barn Rocks, east of Selsey
Bill,. a distancs of 7 tailes. They are full of fossil shells,
particularly nummulitic.^
An analysis of the flora of the county was placed before the
Britisli Association in 1872 by Mr.W. B. Hemsley (Report, 1872 p.
128), who stated the total number of indigenous plants to be 1000,
to which 69 inti'oduced species must be added. The most interest-
ing features of the flora -are the number of species to the county
area, the species peculiar to certain formations, viz., the Chalk (56),
maritime species (76), and the rare species, especially of the Atlantic
and Scottish types. Amongst the rarer marsh plants are Isnardia
paluslris, Scirpus triqueter, S. carinalus, Pyrola media, HdbcTUria
aloida, Fcstuca sylvatica of the " Scottish " type of Watson ; this
last is not found in adjoining counties. A prominent feature of the
Wealden flora is the extent of heath land and the large size the heath
attains. The fauna includes 29 species of Mammalia. The birds
are very numerous, no less than 291 species having been recorded.
There are about 76 species of general migratory visitors. Of the
^16 species of marine fishes found round the British coasts 106 have
\)een observed off Sussex, and there are also 19 freshwater fish."
The county presents two distinct climates, that of the coast
district being mild, equable, and dry, whilst that of the Wealden
district is continental, extreme, and rainy. The coast rainfall is
about 25 to 26 inches annually and that of the Weald about 33
inches ; this is due partly to the South Downs, which rise up in
the path of the rain-clouds, and partly to the large extent of forest.
In the wet years of 1'852 and 1872 the rainfall at several Wealden
etatioDS exceeded 50 inches. At Crowborough Beacon the average
yearly rainfall from 1871 to 1884 was 38-16 inches ; at Brighton
during the same period it was only 28-87. Temperature in the
Weald at Uckfield ha») ranged from 98° Fahr. on 14th July to - 4°
on 20th January 1838. The mean daily range of temperature in
the Weald' is about half as much again as on the coast. The in-
fluence of the sea in modifying the temperature of the coast district
is specially noticeable in the autumn months, when the temperature
is higher than in th? Weald and other parts of Engfend northwards,
and fashion has (perhaps unconsciously) selected the period from
September to November for the Brighton season. Sea-bathing,
first introduced about the middle of the 18th century, together with
the fresh pure air, has turned the stream of health-seekers from
Bath and Tunbridge Wells and other watering-places into Sussex.
The poor but populous fishing-town of Brighthelmston developed
into the fashionable town of Brighton ; the new town of Worthing
sprang up in Broadwater parish ; and the fishing village of East-
TOurne rose in importance. The Cinque Port town of Hastings
afterwards developed its fashionable suburb St Leonards, and Sea-
ford was also resorted to ; in the western part of the county the
hamlet of Bognor became a fashionable place. The opening of the
' Address to Geological Section of British Association, 1882.
' Good lists of fauna and flora of certain parts of the eastern divi-
sion of the county have been published by the Hastings Literary and
Philosophical Society and the Eastbourne Natural History Society.
railway from London to Brighton in 1840, soon followed by coast
lioes from east to west, occasioned a great increase in the coast
towns, and now almost the entire coast (except in its steep parts)
presents a line of fashionable "health resorts' unequalled in any
English county ; these indeed form the special distinguishing feature
of Sussex amongst other counties.
Sussex is divided into the six rapes' of Hastings, Pevensey, Adiu>4
Lewes, Bramber, Arundel, and Chichester. The only rapes which tratieu.
exist for pracHcal purposes are that of Hastings, whichnas a separata
coroner^ and the last three, in which the liability -to repair bridges
falls as of common right upon the rape instead of the county division.
The Act 19 Hen. VII. cap. 24 directed that for convenience the
county court should be held at Lewes as well as at Chichester,
and this apparently gave rise to the division of Sussex into east
and west parts, and separate quarter sessions are now held for these
two divisions. The boroughs of Hastings, Rye, Brighton, and the
city of Chichester have separate commissions of the peace and courts
of quarter sessions. There are eighteen petty and special sessional
divisions. At the time of the Domesday survey the comity con-
tained 65 hundreds, but the modem total is 68. Of the 7 municipal
boroughs which the county contains Arundel, Chichester, Hastings,
and Rye existed long before the passing of the Municipal Corpora-
tions Act, 1835 ; Brighton was incorporated in 1854, Lewes in 13^1,
and Eastbourne in 1883. Wtachelsea, Seaford, Pevensey, and Mid-
hurst were unreformed corporations existing under old charters, the
first being governed by a mayor and the la.st three by bailiffs, bnt
all their privileges have lately been abolished. "Sussex," as Mr
Freeman observes,* "is no shire, no department, but a component
element of England, older than England." The diocese of Chi-
chester is nearly coextensive with the county and the old kingdom
of Sussex. In the year 681 the county was converted to Christianity
by St Wilfrid (afterwards archbishop of York), who founded the
see of Selsey, but in 1076 the see was transferred from Selsey to
Chichester. The diocese consists of two archdeaconries, Lewes and
Chichester, and five deaneries. There are 322 civil parishes, with,
parts of seven others.
Prior to the Reform Bill of 1832 Sussex returned twenty-eight Parlia-
members to the House of Commons, two for the county and two mentai y
each for the boroughs of Arundel, Bramber, Chichester, East Grin- repre-
stead, Hastings, Horsham, Lewes, Midhurst, New Shoreham (with eentatioi
the rape of Bramber), Rye, Seaford, Stejming, and Winchelsea.
The borongh of New Shoreham was in 1771 added to the rape of
Bramber. In 1832 Bramber, East Grinstead, Seaford, Steyning,
and Winchelsea were entirely disfranchised, the first-named being
classed with the worst of the "rotten " boroughs ; Arundel, Hors-
ham, Midhurst, and Rye were each deprived of one member ; the
county was divided into two parts (East and West), each returning
two members ; and a new borough, Brighton, was created, to which
two members were allotted. Chichester and Lewes were each de-
prived of one member in 1867, and Arundel was disfranchised in
1863. The Redistribution of Seats Act, 1885, disfranchised Chi-
chester, Horsham, Midhurst, New Shoreham (with the rape of
Bramber), and Rye, -and deprived Hastings of one member. It also
divided tho county into six (instead of two) divisions, viz., Lewes,
Soatbem or Eastbourne, Eastern or Rye, South-western or Chiches-
ter, Northern or East Grinstead, North-western or Horsham, each
returning one member. Brighton still retains two members.
According to the latest owners of land Return (1873), there were Land-
11 proprietors with more than 10,000 acres each; 8of5000tol0,000 ; owneia,
1015 of 100 and less than 5000 ; of 10 and less than 100 acres, 1677 ;
of 1 and less than 10, 2347 ; and of less than an acre, 14,675,—
making a grand total of 19,733 landowners, having a gross esti-
mated rental of £2,418,522 ; there were in addition 23,738 acres of
common or waste lands. The eleven principal landowners "were —
Lord Leconfield, 30,221 acres; the duke of Norfolk, 19,217; tho
duke of Richmond, 17,117 ; the eari of Chichester, 16,232 ; the
marquis of Abergavenny, 15,364 ; Rev. John Goring, .14,139 ; the
eari of Ashburnham, 14,051 ; the earl of Egmont, 14,021 ; Viscount
Gage, 13,739; the Eari De la Warr, 11,185; and the duke of Devon-
shire, 11,062. At the time of the Domesday survey there were 15
tenants in capite, 534 under-tenants, and 2497 bordarii (or cottagers),
also 765 cotarii (or cottars). The custom of borough-English, by
which land descends to the youngest son, prevailed to an extra-
ordinary degree in Sussex, and no less than 140 manors have been
catalogued in which it was found.' Gavelkind tenure existed in
Rye, in the large manor of Brede, and in Coustard manor (in Bredf
parish).
The coast district ^as been under cultivation from the time of
the Romans and is very fertile, being specially suitable for market
gardens and for growing fruit trees. The fig gardens of West
Tarring are celebrated. Marshall,* describing the Weald in 1788,
• Probably derived from the Icelandic hreppr, signifying land,
divided by a rope. It is first mentioned in the Domesday eurvey,
* English Toums and Districts, p. 125.
» Suss. Arch. Coll., vi. 164.
» Rural Economy of the Southern Couniiea, ke.
SUSSEX
725
mys- "The townships of the Weald are in- general very large,
cwmg, as it would seem, to the fewness of sites fit for habitation.
A large portion of the vale lands remain in a state of commou-
im "particularly on the outskirts and towards the extremities of the
Strict. . . . There is scarcely an acre of natural herbage or old
erass-land"; of the coast district he observes that there is strong
circumstantial evidence that the lands were not only brought to
their present form but cultivated before the laying out of town-
ships. He also mentions that in the Isle of Selsey he observed
some common field land, as well as about Chichester. The South
Downs afford excellent pasture for sheep, Sussex being famed for a
special breed of blackfaced sheep. The total number in 1886 was
618 665,— seventh in order amongst English counties. The -total
area of land and water in SuJsex is 933,269 acres (1881), of which
in 1886 there were 682,072 under crops, bare fallow, and grass,
made up of 74,518 acres of wheat, 18,067 of barley, 66,509 of oats,
399 of rye, 6307 of beans, and 9493 of pease,— the total of corn
crops being 175,293 acres. The green crops were 73,315 acres in
extent, including 3405 of potatoes, 28,686 of turnips and swedes,
12,162 of mangolds, 326 of carrots, 11,847 of cabbage, kohl-rabi, and
rape, and 16,899 of vetches and other green crops. Clover, sain-
foin, and grasses under rotation -ccupied 63,724 acres (47,851 for
hay). Permanent pasture or grass amounted to 340,352 acres
(117,956 for hay), included chiefly in the South Downs and used
for sheep pasture, and the extensive pastures of f evensey Marsh,
used for fattening stock. The total area cultivated with hops was
10,391 acres, Sussex ranking next to Kent In 1833 the total of
hops was only 7701 acres. The number of horses in 1886 was
24,964, of which 20,473 were used solely for agricultural purposes.
Cattle 'in the same year numbered 115,633, of which 40,693 were
cows and heifers in milk or in calf. The total of pigs was 41,064.
Poultry in 1885 included 317,712 fowls, the fattening of which
for the London market forms an important industry in the north-
eastern part of the county, the centre being at Heathfield.
Popnla- The earliest statement as to the population of Sussex is made by
Hon. Bede, who describes the county as containing in the year 681 land
of 7000 families; allowing ten to a family (not an unreasonable
estimate at that date), the total population would be 70,000. At
the time of the Domesday survey (about 400 years later) the total
number of tenants in capilc, under-tenants, bordarii, cotarii, servi,
villani, &c. (in fact all able-bodied males), was 10,410.' Assuming
each of these to represent a family of ten, the total population was
then 104,100. In 1693 the county is stated= to have contained
21,537 houses. If seven were allowed to a house at that date, the
total population would be 150,759. It is curious, therefore, to
observe that in 1801 the population was only 159,311. The decline
of the Sussex iron-works probably accounts for the small increase
of population during several centuries, although after the massacre
of St Bartholomew upwards of 1500 Huguenots landed at Eye, and
in 1685 (after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes) many more
refugees were added to the county. In 1881 the total population
was 490,505, of whom 232,331 were male and 258,174 female. The
principal towns were Brighton (populatton, 107,546; 128,440 in
parliamentary borough), Hastings (42,258 ; 47,738 in parliament-
ary borough), Chichester (8114), Lewes (10,815), and Eye (4667).
Bede records that St Wilfrid, when he visited the county in. 681,
taught the people the art of net-fishing. At the time of the Domes-
day survey the fisheries were extensive, and no less than 285 salinre
(or salt-works) existed. The customs of the Brighton fishermen
were reduced to writing in 1579. The, census of 1851 returned 915
fishermen, but a parliamentary return in 1869 stated the number
of men and boys to bo 2236, and tliey manned 780 bo^ts. Tlie
census of 1881 returned 1471 fishermen. The approximate value
of the fish landed at Brighton yearly is about £20,000.
There aro now no important industries ; the chief is the brick,
tile, and pottery, the main centre of which is St John's Common.
The census of 1881 returned 1485 brickmakers in tlie county. The
London, Brighton, and South Coast Eaihvay Company have exten-
sive works at Brighton. There is a daily service of passenger
steamers from Ncwhavcn to Dieppe in France, and largo quantities
of fruit, vegetables, butter, and eggs are conveyed from Franco to
London.
The earliest settlers ill tlie county were the Celtic tribes whoso
memorials are found in the hill-forts of Mount Ciburn, JtlclUngbury,
White Hawk, Ditchling Beacon, Devil's Dyke, Cbanctonbury Hill,
Cissbury, &c., the latter being a great factory for flint implements.
They gave the names to the rivers. Little is, however, known
respecting them beyond the fact that they had a distinct coinage
some two centuries before the Koman invasion,— a coarse imitation
,of the Greek stater of Philip II. of Macedon. These coins have
been found in various parts of Sussex. At the time of Caisar'a landing
(55 B.n. ) the Belgic tribe of the Rcgni inhabited the county and had
their capital at Regnum (Chichester). Sir G. B. Airy fixed on
Pevensey as the place of Caesar's landings in 65 and 54 B.C. ; tliis
1 Sir n. EUis. OenfTcd Introduction to Domesday Book.
s Account by John Houghton, F.S.S., (if Ami and Houtu in each County (K1dr'«
Pamphlets, Brit. Mus.X
is, however, much disputed, and opinion generally puts the landing
near Deal. A few years after this Sussex appears to have formed
part of the kingdom of Commius, a British chieftain, and upon hia
death seems to have been allotted to his son Tincommius. These
two are the only British rulers of the county whose coins have been
found. Upon the conquest of Britain under Claudius the Romans
found a ready tool in a king named Cogidubnus, who is mentioned
by Tacitus, and who was created imperial legate, and may probably
be identified with the king of that name mentioned in the cele-
brated inscription on the temple of Neptune and Minerva found at
Chichester. Sussex was reduced to submission prior to the reign ol
Vespasian, and Major-Gener^ Pitt-Rivcrs suggests that the hill-fort
of Mount Caburn may have been one of the twenty oppida Suetonius
states to have been reduced by that emperor. Roman settlements
became numerous in the county and villas sprang up, tlie remains o(
which are still occasionally found, the chief being that at Bignor,
near Stane Street, the Roman road connecting Chichester with
London and still partly traceable. A fortress was erected at
Anderida (Pevensey), and there was another town named Mutu-
antonis, which is thought to be Lewes ; but, having regard to the
Antons in West Sussex, it may have been situated farther west than
Lewes, perhaps at Littlehampton. Sussex was the first county
invaded by the Saxons, who in 477 landed under JEWe at Keynor
near Chichester. After fourteen years of struggle they reached the
point where the South Downs abut on the sea at Beachy Head,
and in 491, as the Saxon Chronicle grimly records, " jElle and Cissa
beset Andredes-ceaster (Anderida), and slew all that were therein,
nor was there a Briton left there any more." This resulted in the
formation of a distinct kingdom of South Saxons, whence its name
of Sussex. The subjugation of the county was very complete, for
it is still one of the most thoroughly Saxon counties in England,
and its inhabitants, speech, place-names, customs, &c., are almost
entirely Saxon. The next important event in the history of the
county was the landing of William of Normandy (28th September
1066), followed by the battle of Senlac' or Hastings (14th October
1066). The Conqueror erected on the battlefield a state abbey-dedi-
cated to St Martin, but it was not completed until after his death.
The next chief event was the battle of Lewes between Henry III.
and the barons under Simon de Moutfort in 1261, which "wiped
out the stain— if stain it were— of Senlac." . The only other import-
ant events have been the rebellion of Jack Cade in 1450, which
received very substantial support in East Sussex, and the naval
engagement fought off Beachy Head in 1690, in whicli the English
and Dutch fleets combined were defeated by the French. Charles
II. in his flight after the battle of Worcester escaped in 1651 from
Brighton in a fishing-boat.
The foremost place amongst the illustrious natives of Sussex
must be assigned to Shelley the poet. Of statesmen we liava
Richard Cobden and John-Selden, and of eminent ecclesiastics
Archbishops Frewen, John Peckham, and William Juxon, also Arch-
deacon Hare. Its poets include Thomas Otway, Thomas Sackville
(afterwards eari of Dorset), and John Fletcher. Of antiriuaries wo
find Sir William Burrell, John Elliot, Rev. Thomas W. Horsfield,
Mark Antony Lower, Dr Mantell (geologist), and Dr Richard Russell
(founder of modern Brighton). ■ j i
Dialect— A largo number of Saxon words are still retained and
pronounced in the old style ; thus gate becomes gc-al. The letter
a is very broad in all words, as if followed by u, and in fact con-
verts words of one syllable into words of two, as faUs (face), tausi
(taste), &c. -Again, a before double d becomes ar, as arder ami
larder for adder and ladder ; oi is like a long i", as spilr (spoil),
inlment (ointment) ; an c is substituted for a in such words as rag,
flag, &c. The French refugees in the 16th and 17th centuries in-
troduced many words which arc still in use. Thus a Sussex woman
when unprepared to receive visitors says she is in diskabiUc (disha-
bille, undress) ; if her child is unwell, it looks pek-id (piqu(S), i(
fretful is a VM\e peler-jrievous (petit-grieO ; she cooks with a Iroacli
(broche, a spit), and talks of coasts (coste. Old French) or ribs ot
meat, &c. There is an excellent Dictionary of the Sussex Diolcct
by the Rev. W. D. Parish.
BiWujjracftu.-AmongstBtandard historical works dealing with Sussex hi,,
tory aro E. A. Freeman's Histoni of the Norman Conquettmi Wc ofH '"""I
nuM : J. R. Green's Moving of England ; W. H. Blaauw's The Barons 4 ar , an.
Kcmble's Saxons in England. The Kcncml history of ll.c county ib dealt will
in UorsHM-a History o/ Sussex; Dallaway and Carlwright » «.i'ory ^ 1»J
Western Wivij.on o/the County o/Sussex; M. A. Lower s <-»"»'«'"',''' "'j!°7^^
Sussex ; Dudley C. Elwcs and Charles J. Rohinson s hstorp of the Cmtla^
Mansions, and Manors of Western Sussex; P. de P"Vr? "ij'^^'c", J'''miL''
Old Sussex; W. R. W. Stephens's Diocesan Histories (.The South Siixon "'oeeu.
Selsey-ChichcsUr); Sussex Archxoloijical Socielys Co"«lio«. 31 vols.. "'■ index
to the nrst 25 vols.; Domesday Book in relation to tht County of »ussaiW6}. BM
also C. Fleet. Glimpses of our Sussex Ancestors, two series ; bwa nion, Ch'ehesUr
Cathedral ; Col. lancFox (now Pittllivers). " Examination into Oic Cliar.eler
and Probable OriRin of the Uill Forts of Sussex,' in Arehxologm. x"'- »'•
and "Further Remarks," &c., i!-.. p. M ; O. Slade Butler. T' W™/;" ■°' ^"-'^
iana ; M. A. Lower, The Churches of SuMfx (illustrated by R. Nllbs) and TU
IVorlhies of Sussex : J C. Egerton, Sussex Folk and Sussex » oyl ; ''«'''''"»'*
the Brighton and Sussex Natural ll.^^tory Society W, E. Baxter. The Do-ne'Jay
Book for the County of Sussex. tWnj that portion of a Return ofOu'ner, «/ ';;";"•
1S7S which refers to Sussex. Lewes, 1870 ; J. D. Terry. nislr,ru-al onrf fv.^nrliM
a The hUl of ScdUo 1» now occupied by lUe ablwy .ud taw» ot BalUe
726
8 U T — S U T
Account of the Coast of Sussex • Fredcriclc Dixon, The Geoloriy of Sussex; M. A.
Lower, Chronicles of Fevensey; William Topley, Memoirs of the Geological Suney
of England and U'ales: Geology of the Weald, farts of the Countiesof Kent, Surrey,
Sussex^ and Hants ; J. G. Bisliop, Brighton pavilion and its Royal Associations ;
Merrifteld, ,1 Sketch of the Natural History of Brighton and its Vicinity, 1864; H.
D. Gordon, The History of Harting ; Basil Champncys, A Quiet Corner of Eng-
land: Studies of Landscape and Architecture in li'inchtlsta. Bye, and the Romnty
Marsh, 1874 ; M. A. Tierney, History ana Antlqi.itiu of the Castle and Town of
Aruiidel ; Ilolloway, History of Bye ; HorsBeld, History and Anti'iuities of Lewes;
\f. D. Cooper, History of Winchelsea ; M. A. Lower, Chronicles of Battle Abbey ;
Howard, Hastings Past and Present, &c. (^. E. S.)
SUTHERLAND, a northern maritime coimty of Scot-
land, is bounded E. by Caithness, S.E. by Moray Firth,
S. and S.W. by Boss and a part of Cromarty, and N. and
W. by the Atlantic and the North Sea. The area is
1,297,846 acres, or nearly 2028 square miles. The northern
and western shores are broken and irregular, in some cases
deeply indented, and in the north-west, at Cape Wrath,
near Durness, at Whiten Head, and farther south at the
island of Handa there are ranges of wildly precipitous cliffs.
Numerous islands stud the larger inlets on this coast ; the
only ones inhabited in 1881 were Oldney with four persons
and Roan (in Kyle of Tongue) with forty-three ; Handa,
which had eight inhabitants in 1871, had none in 1881.
On the north coast the principal sea lochs are the Kyle of
Tongue, Loch ErriboU, and the Kyle of Durness, and on
the west coast Loch Inchard, Loch Laxford, the various
branches of Eddrachillis Bay, and Loch Inver. The eastern
shore is low and comparatively regular, the only inlets
being Loch Fleet and Dornoch Firth. With the excep-
tion of tho nar-i'ow plain along the east coast, various
stretches of low ground on the west coast, and the low
grounds adjoining the rivers and inland lochs, the surface
consists chiefly of a succession of irregular elevations of
from 500 to over 3000 feet in height-. Much of the western
district adjoining the coast from Cape Wrath southwards is
occupied by Archaean gneiss, forming a series of bare rounded
knolls. Resting unconformably on the gneiss are deposits
of grits and sandstones, generally regarded as of Cambrian
age, rising into wild cliffs between Cape Wrath and the
Kyle of Durness. These are succeeded unconformably by
Silurian strata, specially developed in the neighbourhood
of Durness and ErriboU; in- the former region they form
a basin occupied chiefly by the limestone series, containing
a remarkable collection of fossils, and at ErriboU, from
which the strata at Durness are separated by a great dis-
location, they present a remarkable series of horizontal dis-
placements. Towards the east the gneiss is- intermixed
with granite and syenite, which cap the summits of a
few of the mountains. Outliers of Old Red Sandstone also
occur in this eastern mountainous region, Sometimes in
masses of coarse conglomerate. The highest mountain
summit in Sutherland is Benmore Assynt (3273 feet), the
Culminating peak of a fine range of Silurian quartzites and
limestone rocks lying to the south-east of Loch Assynt,
while to the south-west are the picturesque conical summit
of Canisp (2779 feet) and the curious Suilven (2399 feet)
(with its forked top. The next highest and most picturesque
series of mountain groups occurs in the north-eastern region,
south of the Kyle of Tongue, — Ben Hope, a rounded mass
jvith imposing precipices rising near Loch Hope to a height
of 3010 feet, while to the eastward is the picturesque Ben
Loyal or Laoghal (2504 fee't), formed of granite, and south
from it, near LochNaver, the great bulk of Ben Klibrect
(3154 feet). Numerous other summits attain a height of
aver 2000 feet, but the greater proportion of the mountain-
ous region consists of elevated moorlands, bleak and un-,
interesting, except when the heather assumes its purple
tints in autumn. In the lower region along. the shores of
Moray Firth the Old Bed Sandstone occurs resting iincon-''
formably on the crystalline series of rocks, and is in turn
succeeded by an, interesting series of Jurassic strata, which,
faulted against the older formations, are exposed along the
coast from .Golspie to Helmsdale. In this series, at Brora,
some seams of coal have been worked, but the presence of
iron pyrites greatly lessens its value. Limestone is wrought
in various districts, and there are a number of quarries for
building stone. Small quantities of gold have been found
in some places.
Sutherland has a much greater proportion of its area
occupied by water.than any other large county in Scotland,
He parish of Assynt being completely honeycombed with
lochs and tarns. Loch Assynt, the largest of these, 10
miles in length, and narrow and irregular in outline, is
entitled to rank, from its picturesque creeks and the
grandeur of the adjoining mountain scenery, as the most
beautiful loch in Sutherland. Loch Shin, extending 17
miles throughout nearly the whole of Lairg parish, from
south-east to north-west, is towards the centre overhung
by mountain masses, \but otherwise is without interest to
any but the angler. It is succeeded northwards by a series
of lochs, — Griam, Merkland, More, Stack, Garbadmore,
Garbadbeg — extending through the centre of the parish
of Eddrachillis. Lochs Merkland and Griam occur, like
Loch Shin, in the course of the river Shin, a tributary
of the Oykel, which last forms the southern boundary of
the county with Ross and falls into Dornoch Firth ;
Lochs More and Stack are in the valley of the Laxford,
running north-westward to Loch Laxford. The Dionard
or Grudie flows northwards to the Kyle of Durness, and
the Hope, after expanding into Loch Hope, about 10
miles in length, falls into Loch ErriboU. The Borgie,
which in .its course forms Loch Loyal and falls into
Torrisdale Bay ; the Naver, which flows 'from tlie loch
of that name through a fertile strath to the sea at Betty-
hiU of Farr; the Strathy; and the Halladale are the prin-r
cipal other rivers flowing northwards. Those entering
Moray Firth are the Oykel ; the Helmsdale, which reaches
the sea at the town of that name ; the Brora, which
receives various tributaries before it expands into Loch
Brora, 3 miles from its entrance into the sea at Brora f
and the Fleet, flowing into Loch Fleet.
Agrkullure. — According to the agricultural returns of 1886 only
3110 acres out of 1,3-17,033 were in cultivation, less than a
fortieth part of the whole area. The best land is that adjoining
Moray Firth, where agriculture is In a very advanced condition.
Along the river vallej-s there are, however, many fertile patches.
At the beginning of the 19th century the' crofters occupied almost
every cultivable spot throughout the county ; between 1811 and 1820
they were ejected from their holdings to the number of 15,000, and,
according to the statement of Hugh Miller, '.'compressed into a
wretched selvage of poverty and suffering that fringes the countj
oh its eastern and western shores.",. The homes they left were,
he says, "improved into a desert"; but in the opinion of those
who made the alteration these mountainous parts were as "much
calculated for the maintenance of stock as they were unfit for the
habitation of man." The crofters in Sutherland are now (1887)
chiefly confined to- the western seaboard, the number of crofts, all
on the estates of the duke of Sutherland, amounting, according to
the Bcport of the Crofters Commission, to 1238, and representing
a population of 6190. ■ The general agricultural condition of the
county has been much iiaproved by successive dukes of Sutherland,
aided by the liberality of the Government in the advancement of
money for the construction of roads and bridges '; and- within recent
years large reclamations have been- fnade, in order to obtain a
wider area for the growth of fodder and turnips! • The following
table gives the number and acreage of various classes of holdings in
1875, 1880, and 1SS5 :—
Tear.
50 acres and
under.
50 to 100
acres.
100 to 300
acres.
300 to 500
acres.
500 to
1000 ac.
Above
1000 ac
Total.
No.
2505
2498
2512
Ac.
11.994
12,639
13,232
No.
Ac.
No.
Ac.
No.
Ac.
No.
Ac.
No.
Ac
No.
Ac ■
1875
isso
1885
29
34
44
2060
2541
3259
42
40
41
6939
6661
7399
9
15
14
3576
5730
5224
4
6
6
2212
2689
2899
2-
8050
2589
2592
8618
26,-90
30,160
48,063
In 18S5 of the class of holdings not exceeding 50 acres in extent
68 were between 20 and 60 acres each, 661 between 5 and 20,
1761 between 2 and 5, and 19 between J and 1 acre.
Out of the 33,110 acres under tillage in 1886 there were 10,343
under com crops, 6052 under green crops, 8331 rotation grasses.
iS U T — S U ^
727
RfiO" wi-manent pasture, and 232 fallow. The principal com
660- P"";^"*;', • V occupied 8392 acres, barley occupying 1845,
rv?63 P^4e oTand" he^l only 19. I'oUtoes o'ccupied -aOU acres
rdtur?U«a"<i swedes 2931. • Cattle, chiefly West Highland short-
Wn and crossbred, numbered in 18S6 12.806, of which 55,6 were
oows'a.l heifers in milk or in calf; horses, which incude a large
rmbe 0 po'iies, altliough Clydesdales are used on he large farms
BuSbered 2665, of which 2015 were used solely for purposes of
a"Tctdtun> ; sheep, the rearing of which is tlie staple business of the
cSuntv the principal breed being Cheviots numbered 211,825 of
whi^h 158 901 were two years old and above ; and pigs, 1037.
Ic ordint'to the r.cport of the Crofters Com>«.55ion, there were
four <?er°fo?ests within tl/e counfy, all belonging to the dnk of
Sutherland, viz., Ben Armlu and Coir-ua-fearn, 35,840 acreb
I)unrobin 12 ISO : Glencanisp, 34,490 ; and Reay 64,600 ;m all
i5?n0 acres or more than one-ninth of the total area. Theix s
were 348 nrx)prictors who possessed each less than one a-"<=. J"^
Jotal .amount which they owned being only 59 acres. The bulk of the
Cd is possessed by th^ duke of Sutherland, who owned 1,1 6 4 4
was only £27,193 Scots or £2266 sterling, while m 1885-86 it ^^as
'^Suntoiion.-TliG county is well supplied ^th roads con-
sidering its mountainous character and its sparse population
He Sale affords tlie means of export for a considerable amount of
Srm produce. The Highland Railway enters the county at Inver-
ts and after passing northwards to Lairg turns eastwards to the
coast which it skirts to Helmsdale, whence it turns north-westwards
a°ong the banks of the Helmsdale, bending afterwards eastwards
^1- Forainard into Caitlmess. ,. . i ■»• i. j
/«di«"r.«.-Various textile manufactures at one time established
in the county have been discontinued, the only important manu-
ftcUre now remaining being that of whisky at Clyne and Bro a.
Herrin" fishing prosecuted from Helmsdale is an mportant m-
"«strv°and the cod, ling, and other deep-sea fishings engage a
large member of boats Snd men. There are valuable salmon
fislieries in several of the rivers.
AdminUtralion and Population.-1h^ county contams ISent, e
-narishes and part of the parish of Reay, the remainder being m
Caithness. The county returns one member to parliament, and one
is reS^rned for the Wick group of burghs Dornoch, the on y royal
bur^h had but 497 inhabitants in 1881, while Golspie had 1548
and° Helmsdale 794. The population has not va.ied great y in
numbers since the beginning of the 19th century In 1801 the
numbers were 23,117, and in 1881 they were 23,370 a gradua
decrease having taken place since 1851, when the numbers reached
25 793 111 1881 there were 11,219 males and 12,151 females.
Sutheriand is the most sparsely peopled county in Scotland, there
tcin" only 12 persons to the square mile, while the average for
ScotTand IS 125. Sutherland forms a joint sheriffdom with Ross
and Cromarty, and a sheriff-substitute resides at Dornoch. Smal
Jebt circuit courts are held at Helmsdale, Tongue, Melvich, and
Scourie, and justice of peace courts at Dornoch, Golspie, Brora,
and Helmsdale. „ , . . , , .. .
History and Antiquities.— Tho ancient Celtic inhabitants were
almost entirely expelled by the Scandinavian settlers who occupied
the county after its conciuest by the Norse jarl.Thorfinn in 1034.
The remains of I'ictish towers are numerous, as are also stone
circles Of other anticiuitics mention may be made of the vitnlicd
fort on Dun Cnich and of the extensive remains of Dun DornadiUa
in Durness paiish. After the conquest of the district by the Scot-
tish kin"s Sutherland was conferred on Hugh Frcskin (a descendant
of Freskin of Moravia or Moray), whose sou William in 1228 was
-reated earl of Sutherland by Alexander II. The nrnctec.ith carl
of Sutherland was created duke iu 1833. The scat of the ancient
cpiseoual see of Sutlierland and Caithness was at Dornoeli, where
a cathedral was erected by Gilbert of Moravia (1222-1245), of
which the ancient tower, attache'd to the modern parish church,
^ See Sir Kobc'rt Cordoii-s llUtory of the KarMom o/Sut/ierJaiuf, 1813; Huuh
iWU-A HiMedand u> it u. 1S43 ; and C. W. G. St Jobn's lour i,, SMcrlaud.
shirr, 1SW. . , _ ,. , ., / .1 •'.
SUTTEE, the name given by English writers to the rite
of burning a widow on the funeral pyre of ber husliaiul
as practised among certain Hindu castes, and especially
ftinong the Rajputs. The word sati (as it should rather be
written^ properly denotes the wife who so sacrifices licrself,
not the'i'ite itself, and means "a good woman," "a faithful
wife." The sacrifice was not actu.i!ly forced on a wife, but
it was strongly recommended by public opinion as a meana
to her own happiness and that of her husband in the future
state, and the alternative was a life of degraded and miser-
able widowhood. The practice was current in India when
the Macedonians first touched that country (Diod. Sic, xii.
33) and it lasted into the 19th century, having been toler-
ated even by Enghsh rulers tiU 1829. (See Iotu, voL
xii. p. 806.) The subject is illustrated by copious quotas
tions from ancient and modern authorities in Yule's Ayiglc
Indian Glossary, p. 666 sq., and by comparison of similaf
rites among other nations in Tylor's Primitive Culture, ch.
xi. It has its root in the primitive view of the future life,
which regards the dead as having similar needs to the living.
The wife°is sent into the world of shades with her husband,
just as arms, clothing, or treasure are buried in his tomb,
or slaves are slain to attend their master in the underworld.
The Indian custom is not, therefore, properly a part of
Brahmanism; but' it was adopted by the ministers of that
religion, who strained their sacred texts to find support for it.
SUTTON COLDFIELD, an ancient market town and
municipal borough of Warwickshire, England, is situated
on the London and North-Western Railway, 8 miles south
of Lichfield and 7 north-east of Birmingham. Thetown
has been greatly increased of late years by the erection of
villas for persons having their business offices in Birming-
ham, Walsall, and other towns. The church of the Holy.
Trinity— Early English and Late Perpendicular, restored in
1874 and enlarged in 1879— contains a fine Norman font
and the tomb of Bishop Vesey. He obtained from Henry
Vm. the grant of the park and manorial rights for the
benefit of the town, the annual value (now about £2000)
beinc expended in charities and. education. On the pictur-
esque park near the town, 2400 acres in extent, the in-
habitants have the right of grazing horses and cattle at a
small fee. A town-haU was erected in 1859 ; in it there
is a good library. The corporation formerly consisted ol
a warden and 24 members; but in 1885 Sutton obtained
a municipal charter, by which it is divided into sl^ -^vards,
with an alderBian and three counciUors for each ward. Ihc
population of the township in 1871 was 5936, and in IbSI
it was 7737. . ,
Sutton was at one time a royal manor and an apanage ot tn.
earls of Warwick. It owes much of its prosperity to the gilts 0
John Vesey (Voysey), bishop of Exeter iu the 16th century, wh-
was a native of the place. In its charter of incorporation, 20U
Henry VIII., it is called the royal town of Sutton Coldheld.
SUTTON-IN-ASHFEELD, a town of Nottinghamshire
England, is situated on an eminence on the Nottinghan
and Worksop and the Erewash Valley Railways, 3 miles
west-south-west ot Mansfield. The church of St Marj
Magdalene of the 12th century was restored in 1868. In
the churchyard is a yew tree reputed to be 700 years old.
There are a number of collieries and limeworks in the
vicinity. Cotton hosiery and thread are the principal
manufactures. The duke of Portland is lord of the manor
The population of the urban sanitary district (area, 4855
acres) in 1871 was 7574, and in 1881 it was 8523.
SUWALKI, a government of Russian Poland, occupies
the north-east corner of the kingdom, extendivg to the
north between East Prussia and the Russian govcrnmonta
of Kovno, Vilna, and Prodno. Its area is 4846 square
miles. It covers the east of the low swelling, studded
with lakes, which skirts the south coast of the Baltic (sec
Poland), its highest parts reaching 800 to 1000 feet
above the sea. Its northern slopes descend to the valley
of the lower Niemon, while iu the south it falls away
gently to the marshy tract of the Bebrz. The rivers flow
there in deep gorges and valleys, diversifying the surface.
Suwatki is watered by the Nieinen, which forms lU eastern
and its northern boundary and is largely used as a channel
of communication ; it has many affluents from both slopes
728
S U W — S Y E
of the swelling. The Augustowo Canal connects the navi-
gable Hancza, tributary of the Niemen, with a tributary of
the Bebrz, wldch belongs to the basiu of the Vistula, and
on active traffic is carried on on this canal. The population
was 606,573 in 1883, the increase being 3400 during the
year. It has a most varied composition, embracing Lithu-
anians (the prevailing element), who number about four-
fonths of the whole (Zhmuds, 31 "5 per cent. ; Lithuanians
proper, 'iO'3), Poles (28'4, of whom 5'3 are Mazurs), Jews
(17'2), Germans (6'8, but they are rapidly increasing), and
White Russians (4"6). In religion the Catholics are pre-
dominant (449,476 in 1883); the Jews come next (98,743);
there are also 38,610 Protestants, 13,275 Orthodox Greeks,
and 6246 Raskolniks.
Tertiary and Chalk deposits are widely spread' in Suwalki, and the
entire surface is covered with Post-Tertiary deposits. , The bottom
moraine of the great ice-sheet of North Germany, containing
scratched boulders and furrowed by depressions having a direction
north -north -east to south -south -west,' covers immense tracts of
the ridge of the lake-districts and its slopes, while limited spaces
are covered with well-washed glacial sands and gravel. On the
northern slopes of the coast-ridge, the boulder-clay being covered
with lacustrine deposits, there are at many places layers of fertile
soil ; and in the southern parts of the province the bonlder-clay
is very stony, and sometimes covered with gravel. Still, nearly
nine-tenths of the surface are considered suitable for cultivation.
Agriculture is the chief occupation, and potatoes are extensively
grown for export to Prussia, where they are used for the manufac-
ture of spirits, which are smuggled into the province. The manu-
factures are unimportant (600 workmen ; annual produce valued
at £124,000, one-half being 'due to distilleries). All manufactured
wares are imported, mostly from Prussia; and all trade is in the
hands of Jews. The educational institutions include two gymnasia
for boys, one for girls, one seminary for teachers (at Weiwery), one
Catholic seminary, and 196 lower grade schools, having altogether
an aggregate of 13,193 scholars in 1884. Suwatki is divided into
seven districts, the chief towns of which with their populations in
1882 were— So WALKi (see below), Augustowo (11,100), Kalwarys.
(10,600), Mariampol (5610), Seiny (4035), Wilkowiszki (6700), and
Wtadistawow (9300). Wierzbolpwo (3550), an important cv.stom-
house, situated on the railway from St Petersburg to Berlin," also -
has municipal institutions.
SUWALKI, capital of the above government, is situated
at the source of the Hancza, tributary of the Niemen, 75
miles north-west of Grodno. ' In the 15th centtxry it was
but a small village, lost amidst forests, and peopled by
Lithuanians. In the end of the 18th century it became
the capital of the Augustowo government, but never had
any importance, except as the seat of the local authorities.
Since 1834 it has been the capital of the government of
Suwatki. Its population was 18,640 in 1882.
SUWAEOFF, or Sdtoeoff, Alexander Vasilievich
(1729-1800), Eussian general, was born at Moscow on
24th November 1729, the descendant of a Swede named
Suvor who emigrated to Eussia in 1622. Suwaroff
entered the army at an early. ages and first distinguished
himself at the battle of Kunersdorf in 1759, where he
acted as aide-de-camp to General Fermor. Throughout
the Seven Years' War he was conspicuous for his bravery
and military skill. He next took part in the battles
between the Eussians and Poles at the period of the first
dismemberment of Poland. Being afterwards transferred
to the banks of the Danube (1773), he there In the cam-
paigns against the Turks laid the foundation of his repu-
tation as a military commander. In 1775 he put an end
to the formidable revolt of Pugatcheff, who was brought
in chains to Moscow and there decapitated. In 1789
Suwaroif defeated the Turks at Fokshani (Moldavia), and
^gain in the same year on the Rimnik. In 1790 he took
by assault the town of Ismail, on which occasion he sent
his well-known couplet to the empress. On the termina-
tion of this war Suwaroflf was summoned to another. cam-
paign against the Poles. After the defeat of Kosciusko
by Fersen at Macieowice in Siedlce (1794) he marched on
' Hedroits, in Proc. Russ. Oeol. Committee, iii., 1884.
Warsaw, and captured its suburb Praga, where 1 5,000
Poles were massacred. Upon this th§ city capitulated,
and the Eussian general was made field-marshal. He re-
mained in Poland till 1795 und was received in triumj)h
on his return to St Petersburg. InNovembet 1796 the
empress Catherine, his firm friend and admirer," died. Oa
the accession of Paul, who always laboured to undo his
mother's work, Suwaroff fell into disgrace and was banished
to his country-seat at Kontchanskoe in the government of
Novgorod. There he remained some time in retirement.
He unsparingly criticised thejiew military tactics and dress
introduced by the emperor, and some of his caustic verses
reached the ears of Paul. ■ His conduct was therefore
watched and his correspondence with his wife, who had
remained at Moscow — for his marriage relations had not
been happy — was tampered with. On Sundays he tolled
the beU for church and sang among the rustics in the
village choir. On week days he worked among them in a
smock frock. But in February 1799 he was summoned
by the emperor to assist in the campaign with the Austrian*
against the French. Suwaroff took command of the com-
bined forces at Verona. He attacked Moreau, the French
general, at Cassano, the ford of the Adda, and completely
defeated liim, taking about 3000 prisoners; he then made
a triumphal entry- into MUan. He next defeated Mac-
donald on the Trebbia in a sanguinary engagement which
lasted three days, from the 17th to the 19th of June
(1799). Soon afterwards Joubert was defeated and slaia
at Novi (15th August). But the importance of these suc-
cesses was neutralized by the constant squabbles betweea
Suwaroff and the Austrian commanders. The Etissiaa
general now received orders to join Korsakoff in Switzer-
land and to assist him in driving the French from that
country. He accordingly crossed the Alps, suffering severe
losses, but on his arrival learned that Korsakoff had been
previously defeated by Mass6na. It only remained for
him to effect a retreat with the shattered remains of his
army. He finally reached his winter quarters, betweea
the rivers Dler and Lech, and thence directed his home-
ward march to Eussia. The emperor Paul, who soon after
this time entirely changed his policy and made an alliance
with Bonaparte, recalled Suwaroffin disgrace, and on his
return refused to see him. The veteran retired to his
country-seat, where he died on the 18th of May 1800.
Lord Whitworth, the English ambassador, was the only
person of distinction present at the fimeral of this remark-
able man. He lies buried in the church of the Annuncia-
tion in the Alexandro-Nevskii monastery, the Simple in-
scription on his grave being, according to his own direction.
" Here lies Suwaroff."
Among the Russians the memory of Suwaroffis cherished as that
of a great and successful general, but he hardly enjoys such a reputa-
tion among foreigners, who generally look upon his victories as due
rather to the huge masses of men under his control than to military
genius. His-4actic3 seem to have been somewhat Oriental. Ha
formed no general plans for his campaigns, but trusted to celerity
of movement and blows rapidly struck. He was terribly reckle 53
of human life, neither sparing his own soldiers nor showing mercy
to tfio conquered. And yet we find him the subject of exaggerated
eulogy among English writers in the early part of the 1 9th century.
He was a man of great simplicity of manners, and while on a cam-
paign lived as a common soldiet, sleeping on straw and contenting
himself with the humblest fare. But he had himself passed through
all the gradations of military service, and had been for many years
a private soldier ; moreover, his education had been of the rudest
kind. He affected the habits of a humourist, and his gibes pro-
cured him many enemies. He had all the natural contempt of a
man of ability and acrion for ignorant favourites and ornamental
carpet-knights. Droll stories, in keeping with the well-known
eccentricity of his" character, are told of his manner of life in camp.
SVEABOEG, an important fortress of Finland, built by
Count Ehrensvard in 1749 on seven small islands off the
harbour of Helsingfors {q.v.). It is the seat of a grea"t
naval harbour and arsenah
S W A — S W A
729
SWABIA, S0ABIA, or Suevia (Germ. Schwabcn), is
the name of an ancient duchy in the south-west part Of
Germany, afterwards transferred to one of the ten great
circles into which the empire was divided in the reign of
JIaximilian I. n493-1519). At present the olficial use
of the name is confined to a province of Bavaria (capital,
Augsburg), comprising a mere fragment of the former
Swabia, but in common use it is still applied to the
districts included in the old duchy. The duchy of Swabia
was bounded on the N. by the Rhenish Palatinate, on the E.
by the Lech (separating it from the duchy of Bavaria), on
the S. by Switzerland, the Lake of Constance, and Vorarl-
berg, and on the W. by the Rhine." It corresponds roughly
to the modern Wiirtemberg, Baden, and Hohenzollern,
with part of Bavaria. The circle of Swabia coincided
mors nearly than most with the duchy from which it was
named, but was rather more extensive. It was bounded by
Switzerland, France (after the cession of Alsace), and the
circles of the Upper and Lower Rhine, Franconia, Bavaria,
and Austria. Its area was about 13,500 square miles. The
Swabian circle contained more independent states of the
empire than any other, including the countship (after-
wards duchy) of Wiirtemberg, the margraviate of Bad;n,
the principalities of Hohenzollern and Liechtenstein, a whole
series of smaller secular and ecclesiastical principalities, and
upwards of thirty free imperial towns (Augsburg, Ulm, ic).
Swabia is intersected from west to east by the Danube, and
is one of the most mountainous (Black Forest, Swabian
Jura) and picturesque parts of the German empire. It is
also very fertile. The Swabians are a strong, big-framed,
and good-humoured race, and, though in several popular
legends the " Schwab " plays the part of a " wise man of
Gotham," he is probably no denser than his neighbours.
The use of the name of Swabia in connexion with the south-west
part of Germany, previously called. Alemannia (see Alemanni),
Degins with the 5th century of our era, when the Suevi poured into
the countiy and amalgamatoJ witli the Alemanni. It was not,
howevfT, till the 8th century, when the dukedom of Alemannia
■was abolished and Rh.-etia and Alsace sepatited from it, tliat
Swabia became the recognized name of the district, henceforth
administered by nuncii camera;, as representatives of the Fiankish
emperors. One of these nuncii, who usurped the ancient title of
duke of Alemannia, was e.ijecuted in 317, but two years later Henry
I. yielded to the jiopular will in allowing Count Rurkhard I. to
style himself duke of Swabia. The dukedom.thus founded, which
lasted for more than three centuries, repeatedly changed hands,
and was generally conferred by the emperors and kings of the
Saxon and Frauconian lines on members of their own families. In
1079 it ])as3cd into the hands of Frederick I. of Hohenstaufen, the
progenitor of a line of German monarchs, and under his successors
Swabia had the reputation of being the most civilized and pro-
sperous I'art of Germany. As, however, the Hohenstaufen line
gradually lost strength in its hopeless struggle with the papacy,
the Swabian nobles increased in power at the expense of the
-dukes, and several of them became "immediate." No duke of
Swabia was appointed after the death of CoinaJin, the last of the
Hohenstaufen, iu 12CS, and his place was Ijenceforth filled in some
degree by the count of Wurtemberg as primus inter pares. For
the next 250 years or so the history of Swabia consists of an
«ndless series of feuds between the different members of the
duchy, mingled with more or loss abortive attempts of the German
emperors and others to restore peace. The lesser nobles fought
with tlie greater nobles, the to>»n3 banded themselves togetlicr
against botb, and alliances and counter-alliances were formed and
•dissolved with bewilileiing rapidity. The "Schleglcrkrieg" is the
name given to a bloody contest between the counts of Wurtemberg
and the lesser noblesse in 13C7. The most important of the
various leagues formed by"the towns was the " Schwabischer
Stadtebund " of 1376, the point of which was directed against
Wiirtemberg. In 1488 the Swabian estates, — nobles, prelates, and
towns, — weary of constant dissension, joined in the Great Swabian
Confederation, the object of wbicli was to m.iintain peace throughout
the country. This leatgue possessed a carefully drawn up constitu-
tion and exercised executive and judicial functions throughout the
whole of Swabia, maintaining a starnling army to give force to its
decrees. Thungh not successful ni romplclcly abolishing war
within Swabia, the confederation was by no means a failure. It
V1-, for instance, the general of the confederation tliat put an end
ti> tlio calamitous Peasants' War of 152.'>, The Itefornmtion found
22-20*
rcadv acceptance in Swabia. Wiirtemberg, Ulm, and some of the
other estates' even joined iu the Sclimalkald League; but for this
they afterwards had to pay large fines to the emperor, while the
towns lost their democratie constitution, and with it most of their
political importance. The outstanding feature of Swabiau history
for some time afterwards may be said to bo the struggle for supre-
macy between the I'rotestant Wiirtemberg and the lionian Catholic
Austria. In 1512, when all Germany was divided into ten circles,
one of them was named the Schwabischer Krcis, or Swabian
Circle (see above). The circle received its complete organization
iu 1563, aud retained it prai-t.ically unchanged till the dissolution
of the emjiire in 1806. Swabia sulfered severely in the Thirty
Years' War, and it was also oue of the scenes of the struggles con-
sequent on the French Revolution. But its modern history must
be sought for under such headings as Wt;urE.MBERC and Baden.
SWAHILI {Wa-Swahili, i.e., "Coast People," from the
Arabic sdhil, coast), a term now commonly applied to
the inhabitants of Zanzibar and of the opposite mainland
between the parallels of 2° and 9° S., who are subjects of
the sultan of Zanzibar, and whose mother-tongue is the
Ki-Swahili language. According to present local usage
no person would be called a Swahili unless he verified
these two conditions. The Swahili are essentially a
mixed people, in whom the Bantu and Arab elenients are
mingled in the proportion of about three to one; and the
same is true of their speech, which of all the Bantu
dialects has been most affected by Arab and other influ-
ences. The interest attaching to the Swahili people, who
have figured so largely in the history of African enterprise
during the last half century, is thus of a social rather
than of a strictly scientific character. The energy and
intelligence derived from a large infusion of Semitic blood
has enabled them to take a leading part in the develop-
ment of trade and the industries, as shown in the wide
diffusion of their language, which, like the Hindustani in
India and the Guarani in South America, has become the
principal medium of intercommunication throughout most
of the continent south of the equator. During his journey
from the Indian Ocean to the Atlantic Commander
Cameron found that a knowledge of this language enabled
him everywhere to dispense with the aid of an interpreter,
as it was understood by one or more persons iu all the
tribes along the route. Owing to this circumstance the
intelligent and enterprising natives of Zanzibar have been
found indispensable assistants in every expedition pene-
trating from the eastern seaboard to the interior since
they began to be employed by Speke and Burton as
porters and escorts. Missionary enterprise has been at
work amongst the Swahili, who are all Mohammedans,
but with poor results. The language, however, has been
carefully studied, and is now better known than perhaps
any other member of the Bantu family. There are several
varieties, of which the chief are — the archaic Ki-Ngozi in
the north about the river Tana, mostly free from foreign
elements; the Ki-'Mvita of the Mombasa district, reduced
to writing by Krapf ; and the Maneno Unguya of Zanzi-
bar, which is most affected by Arabic, Persian, Indian,
and other foreign influences, but which, nevertheless, is
now the literary standard ; of it complete grammatical
treatises have been published, and into it portions of the
Bible have been translated by Bishop Stcere.'
SWALLOW (A.-S. Swa/ave, Icel. Smln, Dutch /iifdmo,
Germ. Schwalbe), the bird which of all others is recognized
as the harbinger of summer iu the northern licniisplierc ;
for, though some slight differences, varying according to
the meridian, are constantly presented by the h'nV-i which
have their home in Europe, in northern A.sia, and in North
America respectively, it is dillicult to allow to them a
sijccific value ; and consequently a zoologist of wide views,
' The Language was first reUuceil to writiin; liy the Arabs, who ■till
use the Arable ili:ir.actcr. 'But the European missinnarien li.nve wi»ely
rir|ii,ae'l this by the Homan sy»tini, which is far nioio siiitnl for th»
tr.iiidltcration of most Afrii'.aii, and i.siie.-inllv nf Ihn nanlii, toiiguoiu
730
S W A - S W A
A'hile not overlooking this local variation, will regard the
Swallow of all these tracts as forming a single species, the
Uirundo ruslica of Linnceus.^ Returning, usually already
paired, to its summer-liaunts, after its winter-sojourn in
southern lands, and generally reaching England about the
first week in April, it at once repairs to its old quarters,
nearly always around the abodes of men ; and, about a
month later, the site of the nest is chosen, resort being had
in most cases to the very spot that has formerly served
the san-e purpose — the old structure, if still remaining,
being restored and refurnished. So trustful is the bird
that it commonly establishes itself in any of men's works
that will SLipply the necessary accommodation, and a shed,
a barn, or any building with an .open roof, a chimney-
that affords a support for the nest, or even the room of an
inhabited house— if chance should give free access thereto,
— to say nothing of extraordinary positions, may be the
place of its choice. Wheresoever placed, the nest is formed
of small lumps of moist earth, which, carried to the spot
in the bird's bill, are duly arranged and modelled, with
the aid of .short straws or slender sticks, into the required
shape. This is generally that of a half-saucer, but it varies
according to the exigencies of the site. The materials dry
quickly into a hard crust, which is lined with soft feathers,
and therein are laid from four to six white eggs, blotched
and speckled with grey and orange-brown deepening into
black. Two broods are usually reared in the season, and
the young on leaving the nest soon make their way to
some leafless bough, whence they try their powers of flight,
at first accompanying their parents in short excursions on
the wing, receiving from them the food themselves are as
yet unable to capture, until able to shift for themselves.
They collect in flocks, often of many hundreds, and finally
leave the country about the end of August or early in
September, to be followed, after a few weeks, by their
progenitors. The Swallows of Europe doubtless pass into
Africa .far beyond .the equator,' and those of Northern
Asia, though many stop in India or Burraah, even further
to the southward; occasionally reaching Australia, while
those of North America extend their winter-wanderings to
southern Brazil; but, whithersoever they then resort, they
during that season moult their feathers, and this fact
affords one of the strongest arguments against the popular
belief (which, curious to say, is still partly if not fully
entertained by many who should know better) of their
becoming torpid in winter, for a state of torpidity would
suspend all animal action.* The chestnut forehead and
throat, the shining steel-blue upper plumage, and the dusky-
white — in some cases reddening so as almost to vie with
the frontal and gular patches — of the lower parts are well
known to every person of observation, as is the markedly
forked tail, which is become proverbial of this bird.
' Dr Stejneger (one of the chief leaders in the recent American
movement, the results though not the intention of which wouht he
the subversion of much of tlie nomenclature of birds liitherto thought
in Europe to have been established on tolerably firm principles) would
apply to the Swallow the generic term of Chelidon, generally accepted
for the Martin (vol. xv. p. 581), and to the litter Uirundo. Herein
he is technically incorrect, for one of the first principles of zoological
nomenclature h.is always been that a generic term, to be valid, must
be defined. In the absence of definition such a term may tie, by
courtesy, occasionally accepted ; but this courtesy has never l^een, nor
e.\cept in America is \\ke\y to be, extended to the misapplication here
in question.
' Hence the common English name of "Chimney-Swallow," lu
North America it is usually the "Barn-Swallow."
' It must be noted that the Swallow has been observed In England
in every month of the year ; but its presence from the beginning of
December to the middle of March is an extremely rare occurrence.
* See John Hunter's Essays mid Observations ?n Natural Ilision/,
edited by Sir R, Owen in 1861 (ii. p. 280). An excellent biblio-
gv.nphy of the Swallow-torpidity controver.«y, up to 1878, is given by
Prof. Coues {Birds of the Colorado Valley, pp. 378-390), who seein.s
stUl to hanker alter the ancient faith in " liilieniation."
Taking tlic word Swallow in a more extended sense, it is uscj
for all the members of the Family Hirundinidn:,'^ cycepting a fsw
to wliicli the name Maiitin (vol. xv. p. 581) has been applied,
and this Family incUnles from SO to 10() species, which have been
placed in many different gencr.a. Tho true Swallow lias vei-y
many afhnes, some of which range almost as widely as itself does,
while others seem to have curiously restricted limits, and much
the same may be said of several of its more distant relatives. But
altogether the Family forms one of tho most circuuiscribcJ and
therefore one of the most natural grolips of Oscinrs, having no
near allies; for, though iu outward appearance and in some habitd
the Swallows bear a considerable resemblance to SwiFjs {q.v.), tlic
latter belong to a very different Order, and are not I'asseiine biids
at all, as their structure, both internal and external, proves. It
has been sometimes stated that the Hiruiulinidx have theii
nearest reLitions in the Flycatcmeiis (vol. ix. p, 3.51); but the
assertion is very questionable, and the supposition that they arc
pllied to the ytinpelidm (cf. Waxwin'g), though possibly better
founded, has not as yet been confirmed by any anatomical investi-
gation. An affinity to the Indian and Australian Artginus (the
species of which genus are often known as Wood-Swallows, or
Swallow-Shrikes) has also been suggested ; and it may turn out
that this geuns, with its neighbours, may be the direct and less
modified descendants of a generalized type, whence the Hirundinidm
have diverged; but at present it would seem as if the snggestiou
originated only iu the similarity of certain habits, such as swift
flight and the capacity of uninterruptedly taking and swallowing
insect-food on the wing.
Swallows are nearly cosmopolitan birds, inhabiting:
every considerable country except New Zealand, wherein
only a stray example, presumably from Australia, occasion-
ally occurs. (a. n.)
SWAMMERDAM, John (1637-1680), may be ranked
almost with Leeuwenhoek as one of the most eminent
Dutch naturalists of the 17th century. Born at Amster-
dam in 1637, the son of an apothecary and naturalist, he
was destined for the church ; but he insisted on passing
over to the profession of medicine, meanwhile passion-
ately devoting himself to the study of insects. Having
necessarily to interest himself in human anatom)-, he
devoted much attention to the preservation and better
demonstration of the various structures, and he devised
the method of studying the circulatory system by means
of injections, so doing the greatest service to practical
anatomy. The fame of his collection soon became Euro-
pean ; thus the grand-duke of Tuscany offered him 12,000
florins" for his collection, on condition of his coming to
Florence to continue it. His General History of Insecis
and other kindied works lie at the foundation of modern
entomology, and include many important discoveries.
Thus he cleared up the subject of the metamorphosis of
insects, and in this and other ways laid the beginnings
of their natural classification, while his researches on the
anatomy of mayflies and bees were also of fundamental
importance. His devotion to science led to his neglect of
practice ; his father greatly resented this, and stopfied all
supplies ; and thus Swainmerdam experienced a period of
considerable privation, which had the most unfortunate
consequences to his health, both bodily and mental. In
1675 he'published his History of ike Ejjhemera, and in
the same year his father died, leaving him an adequate
fortune, but the mischief was irreparable. He became
a hypochondriac and mystic, joined the followers of
Antoinette Bourignon, and died at Amsterdam in 1680.
SWAN (A.-S. Swin and Sicon, Icel. Smnr, Dutch
Zvjaan, Germ. Schwan), a large swimming-bird, well known
from being kept m. a half-domesticated condition through-
out many parts of Europe, whence it has been carried to
^ An enormous amount of labour has been bestowed upon the
Mirundinidas by Mr Shai-pe (Ca<. B. Br. Museum, x. pp. 8.'i-210),
only commensurate, perhaps, with that required for an understanding
of the results at which he has arrived. Nothing can better shew the
difBcuUy of unravelling the many puzzles which the Family oders thatt
this ; and it is to be hoped that in his finely-illustrated Monorpraph
which is now in course of publication ho will succeed in clearing up
some of them.
SWAN
731
Dtlier countries. In England it was fa' more abuMclariL'
foi'incily than at present, tbe young, or Cygnets,* being
bi^^hiy esteemed for the table, and it was under especial
Dnactnients for its preservation, and regarded as a " Bird
rtuyal " tliat no subject could possess without licence from
the crown, the granting of Hhich licence wa5 accompanied
by the condition that eveiy bird in a " game " (to use the
old Ic^'al term) of Swans should bear a distinguishing
mark of ov.'nbv>\n\> (rj/r/niiioiri) on the bill. Originally this
privilege was conferred on the larger freeholders only, but
it was gradually extended, so that in the reign of Eliz-
abeth upwards of 900 distinct Swan-marks, being those
of private persons or corporations, were recog'^>--,.J by
the royal Swanherd, whose jurisdiction extended over the
whole kingdom. It is impossible here to enter into further
details on this subject, interesting as it is from various
points of view.- It is enough to remark that all the legal
protection afforded to"the Swan points out that it was not
indigenous to the British Islands, and indeed it is stated
(though on uncertain authority) to have been introduced
to England in the reign of Richard Coeur de Lion ; but it
is now so perfectly naturalized that birds having the full
power of flight remain in the country. There is no
evidence to shew that its numbers are ever increased by
immigration from abroad, though it is known to breed as
a wild bird not further from our shores than the extreme
south of Sweden and possibly in Denmark, whence it may
be traced, but with considerable vacuities, in a south-
ea'^terly direction to the valley of the Danube and the
western part of Central Asia-. In Europe, however, no
definite limits can be assigned for its natural range, since
birds more or less reclaimed and at liberty consort with
those that are truly wild, and either induce them to settle
in localities beyond its boundary, or of themselves occupy
such localities, so that no difference is observable between
them and their untamed brethren. From its breeding-
grounds, whether they be in Turkestan, in south-eastern
Europe, or Scania, the Swan migrates southward towards
winter, and at that season may be found in north-western
India (though rarely), in Egj-pt, and on the shore-s of the
Mediterranean.
The Swan just spoken of is by some naturali.its named the Jfuto
or Tame Suan, to clistinguisli it from one to be presently mentioned,
but it is the Swan simply of the English language and literature.
Scientifically it is usually known as Cygnus olor or C, mnnsnctus.
Itnceils little description : its large size, its spotless white plumage,
its red bill, surmounted by a black knob (technically the berry ")
larger in the male than in the female, its black legs and stately
appearance on the water are familiar, either from figures innumer-
able or from direct observation, to almost every one. When left
K> itself its nest is a large mass of aquatic jilants, often piled to the
height of a coujile of feet and possibly some s\x feet in diameter.
In the midst of this is a hollow which contains the eggs, generally
from five to nine in number, of a greyi.sh-olive colour. The period
' Here, as in so many other cases, we have what may be called tlie
"table-name" of an animal derived from the Normau-French, while
that which it bore when alive was of Teutonic origin.
' At the present time the Queen and tho Companies of Dyers und
Vintners still maintain their Swans on the Thames, and a yearly
expedition is made in the uiontli of August to take up the young
birds — thenoe called " Swan-ui)ping " and corruptly "Swan-hopping"
— and mark them. The largest Swannery in England, indeed the
only one worthy of the name, is that belonging to Lortl Ilcbestcr, on
the water called the Klcct, lying inside the Chesil Bank on the coast
of Dorset, where from 700 to doublo that number of birds may be
kept — a stock doubtless too great for the area, but very .'iniall when
compared with the numbers that used to bo retained on various rivers
in the country. The Swanpit at Norwich aeenis to .bo the only place
BOW existing for fattening tho Cygnets for tho tabic — an expensive
process, but one fully npiucciatcd by those who have tasted the
results Tlie English Swan-lawa and regulations have been conci>cly
but admirably treated by the late Serjeant Manning {Penny
Cydo}ia\li.a, xxiii. pp. 271, 27'.!), and the nubject of Swan-nmrks,
elucidated by unpublislied materials in the British Museum and oilier
libraries, is one of which a compendious account, from ap antiquarian
and historical point of view, would be very drsirable.
of incubation is between fivo and six weeks, and tlio young wlien
hatched arc clothed in sooty-giny down, which is succeeded by
feathers of dark aooty-biown. This suit ia (^dnally rephaced by
white, but the young birds are raori- than a twelvemonth old befora
they lose all trnco of colouring and become wholly white.
ll was, however, noticed by Plot (N. H. Stnffordshire, p. 228)
200 years ami more ago that certain Swans on the Trent hail white
Cvgncta; and it was subscrjuently observed of sucli birds that both
paicn's and piogeny Imi legs of a paler colour, wliilo the young
had not the *" blue bill" of ordinary Swans at tho s.inie age that
has in >.oine jiarts of the country given them a name, besides
oflerinjj a few other minor difleicnces. These being examined by
Vaii,-jl led him toaiinoun'-e l,Proc. Zool. Society, 1838, p. 19) tho
birds presenting thi-m as forming a distinct species, C. inimulnhilis,
to which tlic tnglish name of "Polish" Swan had already been
attached by the London poulterers.^ There is no question so far
as to the facts; tho doubt exists as to their bearing in regard to the
v.alidity of the so-called "species." Though apparently wild birda,
ansivering faiiJy to the description, occasionally occur iu hard
winters in Britain and some parts of the European Con^'^t,*
their mother country has not yet been ascertained, — for the epithet
" Polish " is "but fanciful, — and most of the information respecting
them is derived only from reclaimed examples, which are by no
means common. Those examined by Yarrell are said to have been
distinctly smaller than common Swans, but those reccnized ol
late years are as distinctly larger. The matter requires much more
investigation, and it may be remarked that occasionally Swans, eo
far as is known of the ordinary stock, will produce one or more
Cygnets dilfeiing from the rest of the brood exactly iu the
characters which have been assigned to the so-called Polish Swms
as specific — namely, their white plumage slightly tinged with buH',
their pale legs, and llesh-coloured bill. It may be that hero we
have arcase of far greater interest than the mere question of specific
distinction,^ in some degree analogous, but yet in an opposite
direction, to that of the so-called Favo nigrivcnvis before mentioned
(Pe.\cock, voh xviii. p. 443).
Thus much having been said of the bird which is nowadays
commonly called Swan, and of its allied form, we must turn to
other species, and first '•» one that anciently must have been the
exclusive bearer in Engrand of the name. This is the Whoopcr,
Whistling, or Wild Swan' of modern usage, the Cygnus mnsinix or
C. ferns of most authors, which was doubtless always a winter-
visitant to this country, and, though nearly as bulky and quite as
purely white in its adult plumage, is at once recognizable from the
species which has been half domesticated by its wholly dill'erent
but equally graceful carriage, and its bill — which is black at the
tip and lemon-yellow for a great part of its base. This entirely
distinct species is a native of Iceland, eastern Lapland, and
northern Kussia, whence it wanders southward in autumn, and
the musical tones it utters (contrasting with the silence that has
caused its relative to be often called the Jluto Swan) have been
celebrated from the time of Homer to our own. Otherwise in a
general way there is little difl'erence between the habits of the two,
and very closely allied to the Whooper is a much smaller spccies,<
with very well marked characteristics, known as Bewick's Swan,
C. Icwicki. This was first indicated as a variety of the last by
Pallas, but its specific validity is now fully established. Apart
from size, it may be externally distinguished from the Whooper
by the bill having only a small patch of yellow, which inclines to
an orange r.athcr than a lemon tint; while internally thcdifi'erenco
of the vocal organs is well marked, and its cry, though melodious
enough, is unlike. It has a more easterly home in the north than
the Whooper, but in winter not unfiequently occurs in Britain.
Both the species last nlentioned have their representatives in
North America, and in each case the tians-Atl.antic bird is consid-
erably larger tlian that of the Old World. The first is tho
Trumpeter-Swan, C luccinator, which has tho bill wholly black,
and the second the C coluvibianns or americamis'' — greatly rcsem-
^ M. Gerbe, in his edition of Degland's Ornitholoyic Europfenne
(ii. p. 477), makes tho amusing mistako of attributing this name to
tho "fomrcurs" (furriers) of Loudon, and of reading it " Cyyne du
p6lc" (polar, and not Polish, Swan) !
■* Chiefly iu tho north-west, but Lord Lilford has reconlcd (/W«,
1860, p. 351) his having met with them in Corfu and Epirus.
' Tho most recent authorities on tho polish Swan arc Stevenson,
in 6cpar.ately. printed advance sheets (1874) of his JlirJs of Norfolk
(vol. iii.), and Soutliwell (Trans. Norf. <k Norw. Aat. Society, ii. pp.
258-2G0), as well, of course, as Dresser (£. £urope, vi. pp. 429-433,
pi. 419, figs. 1, 2).
• In some districts it is called by wMd-fowlere "Elk," which
perhaps may -be cot^natewith the Icelandic Afft and tho Old German
Jilhs or Hljis (cf. Gesner, Omillwloqia, pp. 358, 359), though bymo-
diru Ueiniaus Elb-schwan scoiiis to be used for the preceding species.
^ Examples of both these species Iiavo been reconlcd as occurring
in Brituin, and there can be little doubt that tho first has made ila
way hither. Concerning tho second more precise details arc requiiKl,
732
S W A — S W A
Wing Bewick's Swan, but with tho coloured patches on the bill of
less extent and deepening almost into scarlet. South America
produces two very distinct birds commonly regardeil as Swans, —
tlio ISlack-uecked Swan and that which is called Cascaroba or
Cvscaroba. This last, which inhabits the southern extremity of
the continent to Chili and the Argentine territory, and visits the
Falkland Islands, is the smallest species known, — pure white in
colour except the tip of its primaries, but having a red bill and
red feet.' The former, C mclanocorypha or nigricollis, if not dis-
covered by earlier navigators, was observed by Narbrough 2d
August 1670 in the Strait of Magellan, as announced in 1694 in
the first edition of his Voyage (p. 52). It was subsefjuently found
on the Falkland Islands during the French settlement there in
1764-65, as stated by Pernetty {Vcijagc, ed. 2, ii. pp. 26, 99), and
was first technically described in 1782 by Molina {Saggio sulla
Slor. Nal. del Chile, pp. 234, 344). Its range seems to be much
the same as that of the Cascaroba, except that it comes further to
the northward, to the coast of southern Brazil on the east, and
perhaps into Bolivia cm the west. It is a very handsome bird, of
large size, with a bright red nasal knob, a black neck, and the
rest of its plumage pure white. It has been introduced into
Europe, and breeds freely in confinement.
A greater interest than attaches to the South -American birds
last mentioned is that which invests the Black Swan of Australia.
Considered for so many centuries to be an impossibility, the
knowledge of its existence seeras to have impressed (more perhaps
thiin anything else) the popular mind with the notion of the
extreme divergence — not to say the contrariety — of the organic
products of that country. By a singular stroke of fortune we are
able to name the precise day on which this unexpected discovery
was made. The Dutch navigator Willem de Vlaming, visiting the
west coast of Zuidland (Southland), sent two of his boats on the
6th of January 1697 to explore an estuary he had fouud. There
their creivs saw at first two and then more Black Swans, of which
they caUi^ht four, taking two of them alive to Batavia; and
Valentyn, who several years later recounted this voyage, gives in
his work - a plate representing the ship, boats, and birds, at the
mouth of whit is now kno^vn from this circumstance as Swan
River, tho most important stream of the thriving colony of West
Australia, which has adopted this very bird as its armorial symbol.
Valentyn, however, was not the first to publish this interesting
discovery. News of it soon reached Amsterdam, and the burgo-
master of that city, Witsen by name, himself ^ fellow of the Royal
Society, lost no time in communicating the chief facts ascertained,
and among them the finding of the Black Swans, to Martin Lister,
by whom they were laid before that society in October 1698, and
printed in its Philosophical Transactions {xx. p. 361). Subsequent
voyagers, Cook and others, found that the range of the species
extended over the greater part of Australia, in many districts of
which it was abundant. It has since rapidly decreased in numbers,
and will most likely soon cease to e.xist as a wild bird, but its
singular and ornamental appearance will probably preserve it as a
modified captive in most civilized countries, and perh,ips even now
there are more Black Swans in a reclaimed condition in other lands
than are at large in their mother-country. The species scarcely
needs description : the sooty black of its general plumage is relieved
by the snowy white of its fiight-feathers and its coral-like bill
banded with ivory.
The Cygninx admittedly form a well-defined group of
the Family A^iatids:, and there is now no doubt as to its
limits, except in the case of the Cascaroba above mentioned.
This bird would seem to be, as is so often found in
members of the South-American fauna, a more generalized
form, presenting several characteristics of the Anatinx,
while the rest, even its Black-necked compatriot and the
almost wholly Black Swan of Australia, have a higher
morphological rank. Excluding from consideration the
little-known C. davidi, of the five or six ^ species of the
' Dr Stejneger {Proc. U. S. Nat. Museum, 1882, pp. 177-179)
h.is been at much pains to shew that this is no Swan at all, but
merely a large Anatine form. Further research may prove that his
views are well founded, and that t-his, with another very imperfectly
known species, C. davidi, described by Swinhoe {Proc. Zool. Society,
1870, p. 430) from a single specimen in the Museum of Peking,
should he removed from the Sub-Family Cygninx. Of C. coscoroha
Mr Gibsou remarks {Ibis, 1880, p-p. 36, 37) that its "note is a loud
tniiupet-call," and that it swims with "the neck curved and the.
wings raised after the true Swau model."
- Commonly quoted as Oud en Nieuw Oost Indieri (Amsterdam,
17261. The incidents of the vo;T.ge are related iu Deel iii. Hoafdst.
iv. (which has for its title Description of Banda) pp. 68-71.
' Tlie C. nnxoini doubtfully described by Mr Hume {Ibis, 1871,
pp. 412, 413) from India, though recognized by Dr Stejneger («i iupra),
seems to be only tho immature of the Mute Swan.
Northern hemisphere four present the curious character,
somewhat analogous to that found in certain Ckanes (voL
vi. p. 546), of the penetration , of the sternum by the
trachea nearly to the posterior end of the keel, whence it
returns forward and upward again to revert and enter the
lungs ; but in the two larger of these species, when adult,
the loop of the trachea between the walls of the keel takes
a vertical direction, while in the two smaller the bend is
horizontal, thus affording an easy mode of recognizing the
respective species of each.'' Fossil remains of more than
one species of Swan have been found. The most remark-
able is C. falconeri, which was nearly a third larger than
the Mute Swan, and was described from a Maltese cave by
Prof. Parker in the Zoological Transactions (vi. pp. 119-
124, pi. 30). (A. N.)
SVVANSEA, a municipal and parliamentary borough
and large seaport of Glamorganshire, South Wales, is finely
situated in an angle between lofty hills, on the river Tawe,
Plan of Swansea,
near its mouth in the beautiful Swansea Bay, a recess of
the Bristol Channel, and on the Great Western, London
and North- Western, Midland, and Ehondda and Swansea
Bay railway lines, 45 miles west-north-west of Cardiff.
Being for the most part of comparatively modern growth,
the streets are laid out with great regularity. Swan-
sea retains few traces of antiquity, and some of its
more picturesque features have been destroyed to make
room for the construction of docks. Of the old castle,
* The correct scientific nomenclature of the Swans is a matter that
offers many difficulties, but they are of a kind ."ar too technical to
have any interest for tho general reader. Dr Stejneger, in his learned
"Outlines of a Monograph" of the group {ut supra), has employed
much research on the subject, with the result (which can only be
deemed unhappy) of upsetting nearly all other views hitherto existing,
and propounding some which few ornithologists outside of his adopted
country are likely to accept, since the principles on which he- ban
gone are not those commonly received, nor (it may perhaps be added)
are based on common sense. In the text, as above ^VTitten, care has
been taken to use names which will cause little if any misunderstand-
ing, and this probably is all that can be said iu the present state o/
confusion.
S W A - S W A
733
originally founded in 1099 by Henry Beauchamp, earl of
SVarwick, to secure possession of his lands in the province
of Gower, the principal remains are the keep, built by
Bishop Gower of St David's after the castle had been for
some time in ruins, a range of arched dungeons lit by loop-
holes, and the hall, now fitted up for use as a volunteer
drill hall. There are fragments of a wall with a Gothic
window of the hospital of St David, founded by Bishop
Gower in 1331. The church of St Mary's, founded by
the same bishop, was rebuilt in 1739, with the exception
of the tower and chancel. The modern public buildings
include the guildhall, in the Italian style with Corinthian
pillars and pilasters, erected in 1846, and comprehending
the munici[j^l offices, the crown and ?iisi prius courts, the
council chamber, and the library of the Swansea and Neath
Incorporated Law Society ; the royal institution of South
Wales, established 1835, a building in the Ionic style, and
embracing a library, a lecture hall, and a museum of
geology, mineralogy, natural history, and antiquities ; the
free public library, schools of art, and art gallery, a fine
new building with about 30,000 volumes (including the
library of the Eev. Rowland Williams, one of the authors
of Essays and Reviews) and a large number of beautiful
engravings ; the grammar school, founded by Hugh Gore,
bishop of AVaterford, in 1682; the market (1830); the
cattle market (1864) ; the Albert hall for concerts (1864),
■with a smaller hall erected in 1881 ; the agricultural hall ;
the -working men's club (1875); the Prince of Wales hall
(1882); and two theatres. The benevolent institutions
Include the general hospital, founded in 1817, and rebuilt
■with the addition of two wings in 1878 ; the Cambrian
institution for the deaf and dumb, founded in 1847, and
several times extended ; the Swansea and 'South Wales
institute for the blind (1865); the nursing institution
(1853); the provident dispensary (1876) ; the eye hospital
(1878); the industrial home (1859) ; and the sailors' home
(1864). Swansea is specially -well supplied with parks and
recreation grounds. They include Brynmill grounds be-
tween Parkwern and Singleton (1872), 9 acres in extent,
and containing a beautiful reservoir and ornamental lawns ;
Cwu.Jonkin park, on the uplands, 13 acres, and command-
ing fine views ; the new recreation grouhd, formed in 1883,
11 acres, situated between Brynmill and the Oystermouth
road ; Park Llewelyn, to the north of Swansea, 40 acres ;
and the St Helen's Field, near the beach, about 20 acres,
now being laid out. The population of the municipal
borough (area 4363 acres) in 1871 was 51,702, and in
1881 it was 65,597. The population of the parliamentary
borough in 1881 was 73,971. Its area then was 4777
acres, but in 1885, when Swansea received independent
representation, the area was diminished, the population of
this smaller area being 50,043 in 1881.
Swansea owes its prosperity to its situation in the neighbourhood
of extensive collienes aud to its possession of great natural advant-
ages as a harbour. With some exaggeration it has been called tlie
"metallurgical centre of the world," but the title must at least
be allowed iu reference to copper, which is imported to bo sn.elted
from all parts of tlie world. The smelting of co|i|)ur, which has
been carried on in the district from the time of Klizabctli, is the
distinctive and most important industry of tliO town, the others
including tinjdate manufacture, lead smcdting, spelter ai.J zinc
manufacture, the extraction and manufacture of silver, nickel, and
:obaIt, iron smelting, Siemens steel manufacture, the manufacture'
of chemicals, of agricultural manure, and of patent fuol, and the
construction of railway carriages and waggons. In Swansea Bay
there are valuable oyster fisheries. The earliest harbour works
on a large scale were those of the South Dock Company, begun in
1847 and opened in 1859. This dock, which has an area of about
13 acres, with a half-tide basin of i acres and a lock 300 feet long
'by 60 .feet wide, is used principalJy for the export of coal. The
north dock, completed in 1882, has' an area of about lO.J acres, in
addition to several other smaller docks An important addition
was maclo by the completion of tlic Pnnoc of Wales Dock in October
1881, with an urea of 23 acres , and as yet this additional accommo-
dation is more than sufficient for the trade of the port. In 1876 tho
number of sailing and steain vessels that entered with cargoes and
in ballast from foreign countries, British possessions, and coastwise
was 7799, of 1,068,062 tons ; the Jiuinber that cleared being 7549,
of 1,041,078 tons. In 1885 the entrances were 7447, of 1,461,218
tons, the clearances 7051, of 1,366,117 tons. The total average
value of the imports of foreign and colonial produce during the five
years ending 1883 was about £2,400,000, but has been decreasing ;
and the total average value of the exports of the produce of tho
United Kingdom was about £l,.')0O,O0Qk but has been steadily in-
creasing, and has reached over £2,000,000. There is a large trade
with France, Portugal, Spain, and the Mediterranean ports. There
is also considerable trade with South Africa, and the trade is greater
with South than with North America. The exports consist chiefly
of the various manufactures of the town, especially tin plates, the
direct trade in which between Swansea and American ports has
within the last two years attained great importance ; aud the im-
ports include chiefly metallic ores, timber, and various kind of pro-
visions. Shipbuilding and ship-repairing are carried on, but tha
industry is of minor importance.
Swansea owes its origin to the erection of the castle in 1099 by
Henry Beauchamp, earl of Warwick, who introduced into it a gar-
rison of English aud Flemish colonists. The fortress was frequently
assaulted in the 12th and 13th centuries, and in 1260 was burned
down by Llewelyn ab Grwfydd, last prince of North Wales.
During the insurrection of Owen Glendower against Henry IV. it
was again destroyed. Swansea was created a borough by a charter
of King John, which is said to be preserved among the records of
tho Tower of London. The earliest charter in possession of tho
corporation is that granted by Henry III. in 1234, conferring upon
it freedom from toll pontage and other customs. Its privileges were
confirmed by Edward IT. and Edward III. The town was during
the Civil War alternately in the hands of both parties, but in 1647
the castle was dismantled by the Parliamentarians, after which
Oliver Cromwell was made lord of Swansea, of the signiory of
Gower, and of the manor of Kelvey. The corporation now consists
of a mayor, 6 aldermen, and 18 councillors, and the borough has a
commission of the peace. From the reign of Henry VIII. it contri-
buted along with other boroughs to return a member to parliament.
In 1658 it received a charter from Cromwell permittin" it to return a
member for itself, but after the Restoration it resumed its character
as contributory. In 1832 it became the head of a new district of
boroughs, and in 1885 it received separate representation, while a
portion of its area was also included in a district of borough? to
which it gives tho name. In the reign of Edward IV. the castle
came by marriaf, a to the Somerset family, and it is held by the duke
of Beaufort, whose title of Baron Herbert of Gower dates from 1506.
SWARTZ, OloF (1760-1818), a celebrated Swedish
botanist, ■was born in 1760. He commenced his botanical
studies in Upsala, under Linnaeus and Thunberg, and
began early to make excur.sions. He made a voyage to
America in 1783, visited England in 1788, returned to
Sweden in 1789, and was made professor of natural
history ' in Stockholm. He was tho author of many
systematic works, and largely extended our knowledge of
both flowering plants and cryptogams. He died in 1818,
See Sachs, Gcschichte d. Bolanik.
SWATOW (also, less frequently, Swartow and Shan-
tow), a port of China, in the province of Kwang-tung,
opened to foreign trade in 1869. It is situated at thn
mouth of the main branch of the river Han, which 30
miles inland flows past tho great city of Chow-chu or
Tai-chu (Tie-chu), and the surrounding country is moro
populous and full of towns and villages than any other jiart
of tho province. English merchants settled on Double
Island in the river as early as 1856 ; but the city, which
is built on ground but recently recovered from the sea,
was formerly a mere fishing village. Tho trade of tho port
has rapidly iucrea.scd. In 1869 718 vessels of all nations
entered or cleared (of 310,500 tons burden), in 1884
1387 vessels (1,282,936 tons)— the total value of the trade
being respectively £4,800,000 and .£5,519,772. The
surrounding country is a great sugar-cane district produc-i
ing annually abo'it 2,000,000 piculs (= 133iJ^ Ih) of sugar,
and there is an extensive refinery in tho town employing
upwards of 600 workmen and possessing a reservoir for
7,000,000 gallons of water. Next in valuo comes tho manu-
facture of bean -cake, which is also imported iu large quaati-
734
S W E — S W E
ties from New-chwang, Chefoo, Shanghai, Amoy, and Hong-
Kong (total import in 1874, 1,408,384 piculs; in 1884,
2 539,710). Among the leading exports are tea (since
about 1872); grass-cloth, manufactured at Swatow from
80-called Taiwan hemp (the fibre of the Boehmeria nivia from
Formosa) ; pine-apple cloth, manufactured in the villages
about Kieh-Yang (a town 22 miles distant); oranges, for
which the district is famous ; cheap fans ; and pewter, iron,
and tin wares. Swatow is also a great emigration port'
In 1870 about 22,000 Chinese embarked there for Singa-
pore, Bangkok, and Saigon ; and the number of emigrants
has since increased so that British vessels alone carry
50,000 to 53,000 per annum. Of the whoie foreign trade
of the port upwards of 83 per cent, is in British bottoms,
the trade with Hong-Kong being of especial importance!
The population of Swatow is upwards of 30,000. In
1874 the foreign residents numbered 147 (63 British) in-
cluding Double Island.
About 1865 the whole Swatow district was still divided into a
number of ''independent townships, each ruled by its own head-
men, and the popuJation was Q^=,cribed in the oflScial gazetteer as
generally rebeUious and wicked in the highest decree" Mr
'Forrest British. consular agent, relates that in that year he was
witnftsto the preparations for a fight between the people livin<.
on the opposite sides of the estuary, which was only pisvented by
m English war.vessel. The Taipings swept over the country, and
by their ravages and plundering did much to tame the independence
of the clans. _ "The punishment inflicted in 1869 by Commander
frZVt fHv'*^°A' °/ Otingpui (Ou-ting.pei), about 8 miJes
from Swatow, for the attack th=y had made on the boats of H.M.S.
Cockchafer, showed the Chinese authorities that such piratical
villages were not so strong as had been supposed. General Fang
(a native of Chow-chu-fu) was sent to reduce the district to order
-^^^Iff '■'^'^■°"' ^"5 instructions with remorseless rigour.
SWEAT. See Ndteition, vol. svii. p. 685
SWEATING-SICKNESS. A remarkable form of dis-
ease not known in England before, attracted attention
at the very beginning of the reign of Henry VII It
was known indeed a few days after the landing of Honry
at Milford Haven on August 7, 1485, as there is clear
evidence of its being spoken of before the battle of Bos-
worth on August 22. Soon after the arrival of Henry in
London on August 28 it broke out in the capital, and
caused great mortality. Two lord mayors successively
and six aldermen, beside numerous other persons, died in
one week. At the end of October, however, the epidemic'
in London suddenly ceased. Li Oxford it had already
begun at the end of August, and lasted with great mortality
for SIX weeks; In the course of the autumn it attacked
various places, and by the end of December had spread over
all England. Then the epidemic disappeared as suddenly
as it came. This alarming malady soon became known as
the sweating-sickness. It was regarded as being quite
distinct from the plague, the pestilential fever, or other
epidemics previously known, not only by the special
symptom which gave it its name, but also by its extremely
resentr '°"''' ^"'^ ^^ °'^®' characters to be noted
From 1485 nothing more was heard of it till 1507
when the second outbreak occurred, which was much less
fatal than the first (it is said because the treatment was
better understood) and attracted less notice. In 1 5 1 7 was
a third and much more- severe epidemic. It began in
London in July, and lasted till the middle of December
Many distinguished persons died, including Lord Clinton,'
Lord Grey of Wilton, Andrea Ammcnio, the king's secre-
tary and others, with an immense number of the common
people In Oxford and Cambridge it was also very fatal
as well as in other towns, where in some cases half the
population are said to have perished. There is evidence
of the disease having spread to Calais and Antwerp, but
with these exceptions it was confined to England.
In 1528 the disease recurred for the fourth time, and
with great severity. It first showed itself in London at
the end of May, and speedily spread over the whole of Eng-
land, though 'not into Scotland or Ireland. In I,ondon
the mortality was very great ; the court was broken up
and Henry VIIL left London, frequently changing his
residence. When the epidemic ceased cannot be accurately
stated, nor have we any precise estimate of the mortality.
The most remarkable fact about this epidemic is that for
tlie first and last time it spread over the Continent On
the 25th July 1528 (English style) or 1529 (Roman style),
when It was beginning to decline in London, it suddenly
appeared at Hamburg._ The story went that the infection
was brought by a ship returning from England, the sailors
of which were suffering from the disease. However this
may have been, the disease spread rapidly, so that in a
few weeks more than a thousand persons died. In less
than a week it had spread to Liibeck, and thus was the
terrible sweating-sickness started on a destructive course,
during which it caused fearful mortality throughout eastern
Europe. France, Italy, and the southern countries were
spared. It spread much in the same way as cholera, pass-
ing, in one direction, from north to south, arriving at
Switzerland in December, in another northwards to Den-
mark, Sweden, and Norway, also eastwards to Lithuania,
Poland, and Russia, and westwards to Flanders and
Holland, unless indeed the epidemic, which declared itself
simultaneously at Antwerp and Amsterdam on the morning
of September 27, came from England direct. In each
place which it affected it prevailed for a short time only,
,— generaUy not more than a fortnight. By the end of the
year it had entirely disappeared, except in eastern Switzer-
land, where it lingered into the next year ;i and the terrible
" English sweat " has never appeared again, at least in the
same form, on the Continent.
England was, however, destined to suffer from one
more patbreak of the disease, which occurred in 1551,
and with regard to this we have the great advantage of
an account by an eye-witness, John Kaye or Caius, the
eminent physician. It first appeared at Shrewsbury on
April 13, and, after spreading to other towns in Wales
and in the midland counties, broke out in London, causing
in one week the death of seven hundred and sixty-onp
persons. At the end of July it ceased in London, but it
went through the east of England to the north, until the
end of August, when it began to diminish. At the end of
September it ceased altogether, without affecting Scotland
or Ireland. Nor did it apparently widely affect the Con-
tinent, though Caius mentions its occurrence at Calais,
and Brasavolus {De Morho Gallko) speaks of the English
sweating-sickness as raging in Flanders in the year 1551,
in which he wrote, causing the death of several thousand
persons, and lasting at least till September.
^ym^tom. -The symptoms as described by Caius and others
were as follows_ The disease began very suddenly with a sense of
apprehension, followed by cold shivers (sometimes very violent),
giddiness headache, and severe pains in the neck, shoulders, and
limbs with grr-at prostration,-in short, the usual symptoms of an
acute febrile attack. In some cases the stomach was affected and
there wa^ vomiting, but according to Caius this happened only in
those who were full of food. The breathing was deep and frequent
the voice like a moan After the cold stage, which might las
from half an hour to three hours, followed the stage of heat and
sweating. The characteristic sweat broke out suddenly, and as it
seemed- to those unaccustomed to the disease, without any obvious
IZll' ^-t? ""°° T'" ^\-^^^ ^""^ '"°'^ "^OP'""^ than in others,
Jlotbil f'S"' ^"^Pi"!'"?' according to Caius, mainly on age
clothing, food, and other external circumstances, and also on thi
season, sweating being more profuse in hot weather. With the
^th th?,' h'l *^' ""'Vr'^ °"''-J^"« ^ ''^'' of l"^^*. ""'J
plnfhtt f '"'■'' '^J'T"' "I""^ P"'^''' and intense thirst.
1-alpitation and pam m the heart were frequent symptom.s. No
steigl^lll™''*^'' ^"' ^^^""^ *^"'«^' '■'» <^ Schweiz. Liobt^n.
SWEATING-SICKNESS
735
eruption of any kind on the skin was generally oDsorved ; Cams
makes uo allusion to such a sj-mptom. In the later stages tlicre
was either general prostration and collapse, or an irresistible
tendency to sleep, wliich was thought to be fatal if the patient
were permitted to give way to it. The malady was remarkably
rapid in its course, being sometimes fatal even in two or three
hours, and some patients died in less than that time. More
commonly it was protracted to a period of twelve to twenty-four
hours, beyond which it rarely last«d. Those who survived for
twenty-four hours were considered safe. , . .,
The disease, unlike the plague, was not especially fatal to the
poor but rather, as Cains affirms, attacked the richer sort and
those who were free livers according to the custom of England in
those days. ~ " They which had this sweat sore with peril or death
•were either men of wealth, ease, or welfare, or of the poorer sort,
such as were idle persons, good ale drinkers, and taverne haunters.
Relapses were not uncommon; but the statements sometimes
made about the disease attacking the same person several times
seem to rest on a misunderstanding of the original authorities.
What is meant is that they had several, even twelve, successive
attacks of sweating. The disease was not thought to be transmitted
by contagion from one person to another, ^evertheless, in its
spread, it appears, like cholera, to have followed the main lines of
human travel and traffic, -passing with Richmond s army to Bos-
worth, thence to London, and so on. It would be difficult other-
wise to explain why Calais should have been alTected and not
the adjacent parts of France. Even the very circumstantial story
of the disease having been brought to Hamburg by a ship from
England seems by no means incredible, though it is doubted by
*°CaKics.— Some attributed the disease to the English climate, its
moisture and its fogs, a view which was thought to be supported
by the occurrence of unusual rainfall and atmospheric moisture in
the years of the sweating-sickness. But it is plain that the English
cl.'mate was much the same before and after, and can hard y be
regarded even as a predisposing cause, certainly not as an explana-
tion. Nor is there much evidence that the epidemic years were
distinguished for their humidity.
In 1485, 1507, and 1517 the seasons were in no way remarkable.
The year 1528 (1529 in Continental reckoning!' was, however, cer-
tainly notable for excessive moisture. In England eight weeks
continuous rain began in April, and the harvest was spoiled. In
Germany the copious rainfall, and the cold fogs which endured
through the summer, gave the impression that the air of Eugland
had been carried over to the Continent. In 1551 the outbreak ol
the sickness in Shrewsbury is described as having been preceded
by dense and stinking fogs, which arose from the valley of the
Severn and spread over other parts of England. The summer was
everywhere very hot, and in England moist as well. In Amsterdam
a similar fog announced the outbreak of the sickness m 1528. But
we cannot attribute much importance to these circumstances, since
in other epidemics they were wanting, and similar conditions have
often occurred without any pestilence resulting.
It was acain attributed by some to the intemperate habits ot the
English people, and to the frightful want of cleanliness in their
houses and surroundings which is noticed by Erasmus in a well-
known passage, and about which Caius is equally explicit. But
causes such as these cannot, any more than climate, account for
the incidence in time of an epidemic, even if they do something
towards explaining its geographical range. Nor is there much
evidence that the English were worse in these respects than most
European nations, though the native country of Erasmus may have
set an early example of cleanliness.
Caius and some of the chroniclers make out that this special
liability of Englishmen to the sweating-sickness followed them
even into foreign parts, so that in Calais, Brabant, and Spain it
alTccted the English only and not the nuti»es. This is puzzling
and improbable, except so far that the English abroad may have
belonged to the same classes who mainly sufl'ercd at home. But a
careful examination of those statements shows that they referred
either to Englishmen who had left England while the disease was
raging there and carried the infection with them, or to merchants
and others who were in direct communication with homo. This
disease, like others introduced into a foreign country, did not always
take root there. But it did so sometimes, as, according to contem-
porary evidence, was the case in Flanders in 1551. The statement
also made that foreigners in England were not affected likewise
requires <iualification, since we khow several instances of foreigners
in London who died of it. On the whole, no great imnortanco can
be attached to thU supposed special liability of the English physical
constitution.
From all this we must coficludo that climate, season, and manner
of life were not adequate, either sciiaratcly or collectively, to pro-
duce the disease, though each may have acU'd sometimes as a nro-
di.sposing cause. The sweating-sickness was in fact, to use modern
language, a specific infective disease, in the same sense as plague,
typhaa. acarktina, or ague. The oriyiu of such discuses is uotj
explained hy causes such as those above eunmerated. We c»D
only suppose that they come into being by laws similar to those
which have determined the evolution of species of animals and
plants. But when once their specific distinctness is established
they " breed true" and alw.iys present the s.ame characters.
Probable Identity u-ith Miliary Fever.— The imjiort^nt c\nitslion,
-_: n;.l 41. ;o er^i^^ifio /llconip pTist lipforfi or has it
however, arises— Did this specific diseaie exist before or has it
existed after the sixty-six years of its recognized history? or is it
identical with any other known disseise called by another namel
It is very unlikely that any epidemic of so striking a disease should
have existed before without having been noticed, and there is
certainly no record since of any outbreak precisely similar. The
only disease of modern times which bears any resemblance to
the sweating-sickness is that known as miliary fever ("Schweiss-
friesel," "suette mili^ire," or "the Picardy sweat"), a malady
which has been repeatedly observed in France, Italy, and Southern
Germany, but not in the United Kingdom. It is characterized by
intense sweating, and occurs in limited epidemics, not lasting in each
place mproi than a week or two (at least in an intense form). On
the other hand, the attack lasts longer than the sweating-sickness
did, is always accompanied by an eruption of vesicles, and is not
usually fatal. It is therefore evidently not the same as the English
disease, though allied to it. The first clearly described epidemic
wasin'l718 (though probably it existed before), and the last in
1861. Between these dates some one hundred and seventy-five
epidemics have been counted in France alone. A single epidemic
of a disease which had a striking resemblance to tho sweating-
sickness was observed in 1802 at Kottingen, a village in the distnct
of Wiirzburg, Germany; Its access was sudden ; it affected chiefly
robust persons; it was accompanied by profuse perspiration,
rheumatic pains, &c., without any constant eruption. If death
resulted it was usually in twenty-four hours. The epidemic lasted
some ten days, and then entirely vanished. It may be considered
as an extremely severe form of miliary fever. Finally, Hirsch has
drawn attention to certain cases of a choleraic aHection, observed
first by Dr Murray in India (1839-40), which has been described
as a sweating-sickness. It has, however, more resemblance to
miliaiT fever than to the English sweat. A similar form of disease
has been described by some French physicians as "cholera cutan6
ou sudoral." On a review of the whole evidence, it would apFV
that the only disease which the sweating-sickness much resembled
was the miliary fever, of which it may conceivably have been, like
the Rottingen epidemic, a highly malignant form.
micredidit Orit/imxte?- Whether it really originated in EuglaAd
is a question difficult to answer. Its appearance certainly coincided
with the arrival of a foreign army, consisting, as we know largely
of foreign mercenaries, men of foul habits and irregular lives
(whom the French king was thought to have done his country a
service by getting rid of), and crowded into small vessels. Among
such men any infective disease which arose would, by want of
cleanliness and overcrowding, be likely to be fostered into great
intensity It is in accordance with the history of many epidemics
to suppose that an ordinary and not very fatal disease might under
such circumstances ass.ume a malignant forTO.\ Now, supposing
that the French soldiers brought with them their native 1 icardy
sweat," a malady local and not severe in its French home might
not this have become developed into the formidable English sweat-
ing-sickness? If so, its great destructivencss in England would
also bo in great measure explained by its allecting a new popula-
tion For we find that any exported epidemic disease is generally
more fatal in a country which receives it for the first time, among
a population which oli'ers a virgin soil to the disease, than it w.as
in the country where it was endemic, and w'hcrc men wore inured
to the infection. The notable exemption of northern France f.ora
the true sweating-sickness would then have depended upon the
population there being already inured to a milder f«™.« , '^^^^.^
disease As to southern France and other countries of the soiitli,
tlmv were evidently not adapted by climate to receive the infection.
If tbTbe true, we need hardly expect to see the sweat.DB-s.ckness
again Tho sweat of Picardy may continue from time to tmio to
produce its comparatively slight; epidemics; but the coudi >on3
which launched tlio English sweat on its rapul career of destruc-
lion are unlikely to occur a second time Tho example of thO
UoUin 'en epidemic, which en a small scale was scarcely ess re-
niarkable. may sho;, however, that such an event is not quite
'Tri^;.-For history .00 B.oon-srV.^//-7m, -n. .M chronlo.e.
ot Graft™, Holinshod, Baker, Ffy«".,,l',V J*, fwi l" \ T^K,
I, timt o( John CaluK, who wrote In '•"R"»^J,;T" °; , , ,„ ,, fn
Di^ca» commonly called Ihe Sw^alf. or ■S'"'"' "e.-^''*" "' ', „ , . . I V Tho
thr English sweat, puWlsl C(l ">"-'^°''' ,, ,, .^f .' nrllncr',- S-rirl'rrs dt
M,,n *. ^!''^-'?'''''', " ''^^„,'l '^'.^„' y" .^ oriB^n.! d..c,nr.n>.. 'nCo.hn.
I TblJ 1« tho PMO OTcn wlUi'lho OrlcnUl plaguo lUoK.
StePi.*aiJ&
736
SWEDEN
Paet I. — Geography and Statistics.
SWEDEN comprises the eastern and southern divisions
of the Scandinavian peninsula. Its northern ex-
tremity, Kuokimodka, is situated in 69° 3' 21" and the
southern in 55° 20' 18" N. lat. The western extremity.
(on the Cattegat) lies in 11° 6' 29" and the eastern (on
the frontier of Finland) in 24° 10' E. long. The greatest
length of the country from north to south is 986 miles
and its greatest breadth 286 miles, and the area is 170,713
square miles. The length of the coast-line is 1603 miles,
the length of the boundary line towards Norway 1019
miles, and that of the boundary line towards Finland 305
miles.
Sweden is divided into three chief parts, — the south-
ern being called Gotaland, the middle part Svealand or
Sweden proper, and the northern Norrland. The nortfi
and north-west parts of Norrland are caDed Lapland.
The frontier towards Norway, from 69° to 63° N. lat.,
is formed by a continuous mountain range called Kolen
(the keel). The snow peaks of Sulitelma (6178 feet),
east of Saltenfjord, on the frontier between Sweden and
Norway, were long supposed to mark the highest elevation
of this mountain chain, but the geodetical survey now in
progress in western Lapland has already shown that there
are at least two peaks whose height exceeds that of
Sulitelma, viz., Kefnekaise (7008 feet) and SarjektjSkko
(6988 feet)'.
In this mountain range (Kolen), rise a great number of
rivers and streams, which flow in a south-easterly direction
to the Gulf of Bothnia. The immense quantity of fresh
water that is thus carried into the gulf makes its water
scarcely more salt than that of a lake (0"25 to 040 per
cent, of salt). Between the upper courses of the rivers
the watersheds consist of mountain ridges, which gradually
diminish in height. The intermediate valleys are for the
most part filled with the water of the rivers, and thus form
a number of lakes at a considerable elevation above the
fiea-Ievel. Issuing from these lakes, the rivers form great
cataracts, and afterwards flow through the level plain
that forms the coast-region of the Gulf of Bothnia for a
distance of many miles from the shore.
The boundary between Sweden and Finland is formed
by (1) Muonio Elf, and afterwards by (2) TorneS Elf,
into which it flows ; Tornea Elf rises in Tornei Trask, at
an elevation of 1132 feet above the sea. Then come, in
ci'der along the coast, the following rivers: — (3) Kalix Elf,
which in its upper course forms the lakes of Paitas Jaur
and Kalas Jarvi ;i (4) Stora Luleil Elf (242 miles), which
forms Stora Luled Jaur (1214 feet) and receives on the
right (5) LiUa Lulei Elf, which forms the lakes of Saggat
Trask and Skalka Jaur (984 feet) ; (6) Pitea Elf, with the
lake of Tjaggelvas ; (7) Skellefte§, Elf, forming a number
of great lakes, such as Hornafvan (1391 feet), Uddjaur
(1375 feet), Storafvan (1371 feet); (8) Umei Elf (261
miles), with a great number of lakes, of which the largest is
Stor-Uman, receives on the left a tributary of almost equal
size, viz., (9) Vindel Elf; (10) Angerman Elf (211 miles),
which receives the water of a whole system of streams and
lakes, the largest of the latter being Stroms Yattudal, in
the south of Lapland ; (11) Indals Elf, which receives the
AmmerS, with its tributaries and the numerous emissary
lakes, as Hotagen (1017 feet), Kallsjon and Storsjbn
(" Storsa Lake " on the map) (958 feet, area 173 sq. miles).
Close to the railway from Trondhjem to Ostersund, between
* TTie word for " lake," which i3 sjo or tra.sk in Swedish, is jaur in
J^ppoman, e,ai jarvi in Finnish. "River" is e//ia Swedish.
Kallsjon and Storsjon, rises the peak of Areskutan (4652
feet), which is ascended every year by a great number of
tourists, and in the vicinity many sanatoria are situated.
Farther south flow three large rivers : — (12) Ljungan
(193 miles), with Holmsjon (656 feet); (13) Ljusnan (249
rmles); and (14) Dal ELf (286 miles), which passes through
Siirnasjon (1450 feet) and Siljan (541 feet, 110 sq. miles),
and receives on the right (15) West Dal Elf. The last-
named four rivers rise in a mountainous region with many
high summits, which are the eastern outposts of the high
range of Dovrefjeld, which traverses Norway from west to
east, between the parallels of 67° and 63° N. lat. Among
these summits, situated on the frontier or in Sweden, are
to be observed the Syltoppar (5865 feet). Son Fjell (4190
feet), Helags Fjell (5900 feet), and Stadjan (3860 feet) on
the north shore of Sarnasjon.
In Norway, not far from the sources of Dal Elf, lies
the lake of Fiimundsjo, which gives rise to (16) Klar Elf,
which flows southwards to Lake Vener, the largest lake ia
Sweden (144 feet, area 2150 square miles). The outlet oi
Vener is (17) Gota Elf, which falls into the Cattegat, near
Gothenburg. The watershed between Dal Elf and Klar
Elf is a wooded range of hills without high peaks, sloping
to the south-east. The south-eastern part of Svealand
comprises the water systems of the large lakes of Hjelmar
(75 feet, area 185 square miles) and Malar (area 445
square mile's). Lake Malar discharges into the Baltic at
Stockholm by two outlets — (18) Norrstrom and Soder-
strom. They are, however, almost to be regarded as
channels or sounds, rather than as streams, the difierence
of .level between Lake Malar and the Baltic being so small
that occasionally, when the water is low in Malar and high
in the Baltic, the current sets from the latter into the
former. Lake Malar may thus be considered a fjord of
the Baltic. Still its waters are kept fresh by the great
number of small streams that discharge into it, the most
important of these being (19) Fyris Elf, which passes
Upsala.
The boundary between Svealand and Gotaland con-
sists of wooded heights. Between Lake Vetter and the
northern shore of Braviken Bay stretches the forest of
Kolmorden, and between the northern extremity of Lake
Vetter and Lake Vener lies that of Tiveden. Lake Vetter
(290 feet, area 733 square miles) discharges itself into
Braviken by (20) Motala Strom, the falls of which are
utilized for the mills in the town of Norrkoping, near the
mouth of the river.
The central part of Gotaland consists of an extensive
tableland or plateau, of which the highest part, at an
elevation of 1237 feet, lies somewhat to the south of
Vetter. On the north this plateau descends rather ab-
ruptly towards the fertile plains of Ostergotland (drained
by Motala Strom) and Skaraborg Ian, between Vetter
and Vener. Near the south-eastern shore of Vetter, a
little to the north of Jonkoping, lies Mount Omberg
(863 feet), and near the southern shore of Vener, close
by Lidkoping, lies Kinnekulle (915 feet), both hills re-
markable for their beauty. The great plateau descends
less abruptly towards east, south, and west. A great
number of lesser streams flow down its slopes. The prin-
cipal are — (21) Eramiin, which falls into Calmar Sound ;
(22) LyckebySn, (23) MorrumsEn, and (24) HelgaSn, which
flow in a southerly direction ; and (25) Lagan, (26) Nissan,
(27) Atran, and (28) Viskan, which fall into the Cattegat.
On this great plateau and its slopes lie also many lakes.
In the northern part, east of Vetter, lies Sommen (479
feet), and farther north Boren, Roxen, and Clan. Between
PHYSICAL FEATURES.]
SWEDEN
737
Vetter and Vener lies Unden (384 feet}. On the summit
of the plateau lies Ekelsjo (1132 feet), and on its southern
slope Hejgasjo (535 feet), Bolmen (466 faet), rj'jckeln
(446 feet;, and Asnen.
The southmost part of Sweden, SkSne, consists for the
most part of a low fertila country. Only in the northern
part, Christianstad liin, occur two low stretches of hills,
called Linderodsasen and Sodordsen.
Waterfalls. — The largest waterfalls are — (1) Njuoni-
melsaska (Harspranget), in Stora LuleS Elf, with a breadth
of 60-70 feet, consisting of two cataracts of 103 feet at
the upper end and a'fall of 150 feet more in the course
of IJ miles, — the largest waterfall in Europe; (2) Adna-
Muorki-Kortje ("the great fall of the lake"), on the same
river as the former, higher up, between the two lakes
Jantajaur and Kaskajaur, has a fall of 130 feet, of which
100 feet are one perpendicular cataract ;. (3) Tannforsen,
12 miles west of Areskutan iu Jemtland, between Tannsjcin
and Noren, has a breadth of IGO and a perpendicular fall
of 84 feet ; (4) Trollhattao, in Gota Elf, consists of three
successive falls having a total height of 100 feet.
«v rac- I* ^'" ^^ ^^'^^ that, with the exception of the north-
ti of west part along the Norwegian frontier, Sweden is not a
mountainous country. On the other hand, fertile plains
are not frequent. The most extensive are the north-west
shore of the Gulf of Bothnia, w^here, however, the severe
climate precludes any successful agriculture, the water
districts of Lake Jliilar and Lake Hjelmar, the rich agri-
cultural district of Ostergotland between Vetter and the
Baltic, Vestergotland, or the whole country between the
two great lakes as far as Gothenburg, and, as has been just
mentioned, the southmost part, or SkSne, which comprises
Christianstad and Malmtihus Ian. The greatest part of
the country coi^sists of low hills of granite or gneiss, clothed
with forests of pine and fir. The valleys are generally in
great part filled with water, and the shores of their lakes
or wide rivers are covered with forests of deciduous trees,
chiefly birch, or consist of arable .soil. With the exception
of Finland there is no country so full of lakes as Sweden.
Nearly one-twelfth of the whole surface of the country, or
about 13,900 square miles, is covered with water.
Joast. Coast. — The coast of Sweden is not broken by so many or
so deep fjords as that of Norway. The most consi4erable
indentation is the above-mentioned Br§,viken Bay. ' On
the other hand, the Swedish coast is, perhaps in a still
greater degree than the Norwegian, fringed by innumer-
able little islets. Except on the coast round Skdne, in
the south, the mainland does not come into direct contact
with the sea, girdled as it is by a belt of islands, holms,
and skerries, more or less thickly set, which forms the
rhe so called "skargfud" fence of skerries or outer coas\
"skiir- Between this wall of islets and the mainland, therefore,
5 , extends a connected series of sounds of the greatest
importance for coastal navigation, since they admit of
the employment of vessels of less size and strength.
This skiirgdrd form.s, besides, a most valuable natural
defence ; for, while some sounds are deep, navigation in
the vicinity of the coasts is, as a rule, practically impos-
sible without the help of pilots.
The broadest part of this skiirgftrd is that off Stockholm,
which stretches many miles out into the Baltic. It con-
sists of a few large and well peopled islands, surrounded
by many hundreds of islets, for the mQ.st part uninhabited.
The outer islands are bare grey rocks of gneiss, but the
inner ones are mostly covered with fir and birch trees.
The entrance to Stockholm throu'gh this archipelago is of
its kind one of the most curious and picturesque in the
world. ' The largest of these islands are Ljusterij, Verrado,
Ingari), Vindo, Bunmarb, Orno, and Il'to (with rich iroi)
mines). As mentioned above. Lake Malar i.s to bo con-
sidered as a fjord of the Baltic. The skiirgard also
extends into JIalar, which is fJled with islands. The
most remarkable is Bjorkii, where the old town of Birka
was situated. The archajological researches on this spot
have "been of the greatest importance for our knowledge of
life in Sweden in the times of the vikings. The part of
the .skargard next in breadth is that otf Carlskrona, where
the islands of Sturko, Tjurko, Aspo, and Hasslii are
situated.
The Cattegat skiirgSrd, which extends from the fjord
of Svinesund at the southern extremity of the Norwegian
frontier as far as Halmstad, has a different aspect from
that of the Baltic. In the Cattegat all the islands, as
well as the rocks of the mainland, are almost bare of
vegetation. Trees are quite absent in most places, and
generally the grey rocks are not even covered with grass
or moss. They look as if they were polished by the sea.
Between these bare rocks there is, however, in many
places even on the larger islands arable soil of great
fertility. In the northern part of tLV skiirg&rd ueai'
Stromstad lie the larger islands of Sando, Odo, Tjerno,
Ebso, itc. Farther seawards lie the Kostar Islands and
the Viider Islands with their lighthouses. A little more
to the south, in the vicinity of Lysekil, are three narrow
fjords — Abyfjord, Gullmarfjord, and Koljefjord. Off tho
first-named lies Malmo,* remarkable for its quarry, where
the fine granite of which the island consists is wrough'
Next come, in succession, Korno, Skafto, Flatb, Hermani
and Lyro, the last two situated off the two largest island;
on this coast, Oroust and Tjorn. All the islands nov
enumerated »re surrounded by innumerable islets a'ld
rocks. South of Tjorn there are no considerable islands
except Marstrand (with a small town and much-frequented
sea-bathing quarters), Koo, and Klufvero, all situated
immediately to the south of Tjorn. On the coast of Hal-
land we find only Siiro, off the fjord of Kungsbacka, and
the Viidero of Halland, off Torekow, between Laholm Bay
and Skelder Bay, the only islands on the whole coast that
are covered with a rich vegetation of trees. On the
extreme point of the cape, between the latter fjord and
the Sound, lies the isplatcd Mount KuUen with its light-
house. In the Sound off Landskrona lies the islet of
liven, where Tycho Brahe had his observatory, Uranien-
borg, in the end of the IGth century (1576-1597).
Iu the Baltic lie the two great islands of Gotland and Largo
Oland, of which the former is itself a county and a islands
bishopric. These islands are quite different from the
Swedish mainland. Tbcy are formed of Silurian limestone.
On the western coast of Gotland the limestone rocks
descend precipitously into the sea, and the island forms a
r comparatively smooth plateau, which slopes gradually to
the east. The limestone soil is very fertile, and trees and
plants thrive on it that do not otherwise grow in the climate
of Sweden, such as walnuts, ivy, <ic. The case is the same
in,. Oland. This island somewhat resembles a house-top.
A sterile limestone plain (Alvaren) stretches the whole
length of the island from north to south, and from this
the country slopes both towards Calmar Sound on the
west and towards the Baltic on the cast. The slopes,
especially the western, are very fertile.
Sea-Bed. —The seas that surround Sweden are remark-
ably shallow. Kound the south part of Norway runs
a depression in the sea-bed, called the Norwegian Channel
(sec Norwegian Sea). It stretches along the west and
south coasts of Norway southward and eastward almost
to Christiania Fjord, and the Cattegat. The deepest pari
of this channel, upwards of 400 fathoms, extends through
the Skagerack between Aruiulal iu Norway and the Scaw.
In the Cattegat the depth diminishes abruptly, and
>■ Not to bo coiiloundcd Willi tho town of Malniii In SkjVus.
XXIL — 93
738
SWEDEN
[physical FEAinEES.
Climate.
Tempe-
rature,'
between Gothenburg and the Scaw the greatest depth is
between 33 and 55 fathoms. The greatest part of the
southern half of the Cattegat has a depth of less than 30
fnthoms. The depth of the Sound generally is even less
than 12 fathoms. Tho whole southern part of the Baltic
between Sweden and Germany is very shallow. West of
Bornholrn the depth nowhere reaches 30 fathoms. East
of Bornholm the sea is somewhat deeper, and a small area
of a depth of 50 to 60 fathoms is found a little east of
that island. The whole of that part of the Baltic which
lies between Sweden and Eussia is divided into two
separate basins by a submarine bank. From the southern
extremity of Gotland (Hoburg) there extends a nearly
uninterrupted bank to the south-west as far as the Prus-
sian coast. The depth on this bank nowhere reaches 30
fathoms. The shallowest parts are Hoburg Bank south
of Gotland, Mittel Bank south-east of Uland, and Stolpe
Bank off the Prussian coast. Between Faro off the north
coast of Gotland and the Gottska Sandij there extends a
similar bank, which continues with a somewhat greater
depth of about 30 fathoms as far north as Stockholm.
The deepest part of the Baltic between these banks is
situated in the north part between Landsort and the
Gottska iSando, the maximum depth being about 160
fathoms. Alands Haf, the channel ' between the Swedish
coast and the Aland Islands, is tolerably deep (100 to 160
fathoms).
The Gulf of Bothnia is divided into two basins by the
channel of Qvarken ; the southern is the' deeper (about
50 fathoms), aud the depth increases towards the north-
west, where, over a small area off the island of Ulfo near
the Swedish coast, it reaches 160 fathoms. The channel
of Qvarken is very shallow (8 to 16 fathoms). The basin
on the north side is also shallow. Only over a small area
off Bjuro Cape does the depth exceed 160 fathoms.
Climate. — Sweden is situated between tw6 countries of very dif-
ferent climatolonical conditions. On the west there is tlie maritime
climate of the Norwegian coast, and on ttie east the continental
climate of Russia.^ It may be said that Sweden alternates between
the two. Cold winters alternate with mild ones, and warm aud
dry summers with cool and rainy ones. But different parts of
Sweden have also in this respect a greatly differing climate, of
which we readily see the reason if we only recollect the character
and the general features of the configuration of the country.
Lapl.-ind and the western part of the country along the Norwegian
frontier have a pronounced continental climate, and so has the high
plateau to the south of Lake Vetter. On the other hand, the climate
is more maritime the more we approach the coasts of the Baltic,
and on the coast of the Cattegat and in Skane the maritime climate
distinctly predominates.
The following table gives the mean annual temperatures (Fahr. )
at twenty-eight meteorological stations in Sweden, together with
the means for January and July: —
Station.
Annual.
Jan.
July.
44*9
31-3
31-1
617
61-7
Carlshamn ....
44-4
62 1
62-7
Haluistad
44-8
30-5
Vexio
42-3
27-6
61-2
Visby
43-4
30-7
60-3
621
Gothenburg...
44-4
20-8
Vesteirtk
12-8
28-1
ei-4
Jiinkoping ....
42-7
28-6
CIO
Venersborg....
42-3
27-5
61-1
Skara
41-5
260
60-3
Linkupmg
43-4
27-8
03-9
Nykuping
4) -5
2C-0
61-4
Askersund ....
41-0
25-1
61-3
Station.
Orebro
Stockiiolm ..
Caiistad ....
Vcsteias,..«
Upsala ...*....
Fuiun
Gefle
Htrntisand .
Ustersund...
Umea
Stensele ....
PltcJ
Haparanda.
Jockmock ,.
Annual.
Jan.
July,
41-6
25-8
62-6
41-4
261
61-4
41-6
24-9
62-9
410
247
02-G
40-4
24-5
61-5
387
20-8
61-2
40-0
24-5
61 0
37-1
200
58-9
35 0
15-3
50-4
34-4
15-8
S3-8
317
9-5
577
33-8
11-2
606
31 9
10-1
59-4
29-1
31
68-0
From these figures it appears that, as mentioned above, the
climate is most continental in the northern and interior parts of
the country, especially at the two stations of Lapland, Stensele
and Jockmock, while it is more maritime on the coasts. For this
reason the isotherms for January on the Scandinavian peninsula
are linguiform. The warm sea off Norway causes the peculiarity
that the western parts of Lapland, although situated at the greatest
elevation above the sea, have not so cold winters as tho interior
parts round the great lakes. Still farther to the east the temper-
ature incrcises again towards the coast of the Gulf of Bothnia.
Thus, for example, tho isotherm of 10° F. enters Lapland from tho
north-east atabout 68° N. lat., runs towards the south-west over the
great lakes as far as about 64A°, south of Lake Stor-Uman, makes
there an abrujit bend towards the east, and runs in a north-easterly
direction to Haparanda at the northern extremity of tho Gulf of
Bothnia. The isotherm of 23° F. runs from the great lake of M.josen
in Norway, north of Christiania) to the southern shore of Lako
Siljan, or almost straight east, curve there to the north-east, .mdi
reaches the shore of the Gulf of Bothnia a little north of the mouth
of Ljusnan. Finally, the isotherm of „30° runs from Gothenburg
towards the south-east to the lake of Asncn, curves towards the
north-east, and passes Calmar and the northern parts of the islands
Oland and Gotland. On the summit of the plateau south of Vetter
the mean temperature is of course lower than both north and south
of the plateau. In July the temperature is almost constant all
over the country. With the exception of the interior of Lapland
the mean temperature varies generally between 59° and 62°. The
warmest point is Linkoping on the plain of Ostergotland, between
Lake Vetter and the Baltic. The most temperate and most agree-
able climate of the whole country i^ that of the Cattegat coaH
round Halmstad. _
A good indication of the climate, especially that of the winter, is Equi-
the time during which the freshwater lakes remain frozen. We ghciai
lines.
have seen that nearly
one-twelfth of the
whole surface of
Sweden is covered
with water, and in
Finland the number
of the lakes is still
greater. In both
countries the times
of freezing and
breaking up of a
great many lakes
have been observed
for many years.
From these data we
can calculate tho
length of tho ice
periods. If these
periods are entered
on a diagraai, we
can • draw out the
lines of equal ice
periods, or the equi-
giacial lines. The
accompanying map
shows these lines
for Sweden and Fin-
land. From it we
see that the glacial
period in the south-
ern part of the
country is 90 days,
while in the north-
ern part of Lapland
it has a duration of
no less than 230 of
the 365 days of the
year. The western
lakes of Lapland,
though the higher
in situation, have a ,, „„ ,, „ . ,
somewhat shorter ^^"P "^ ^l""' !<=« Vmois,
ice period than the eastern. The ice period is considerably length-
ened on the great plateau south of Lake Vetter.
We have said above that in certain years the climate of Sweden
13 more maritime, in others more continental. Thus, for instance,
the annual mean temperature of Upsala has varied during the
last 30 years between 43°-2 (1859) and 35°-0 (1S67). The meat
temperature of particular months varies of course in a still higher
degree, especially during the winter; thus the mean temperature
of January 1873 was 34°-3, but of January 1875 only 12°-2.
The difference between the means of the warmest month and the
coldest is the so-called yearly range of temperature. In Sweden
July is generally the warmest and February the coldest month./
The difference between the January and July temperatures, howJ
over, as given in the foregoing table, will show the yearly range
approximately. It will be seen that this increases towards the
north. For the same latitude, it is greater in the interior of the
country than on the coasts.
As is easily understood, the periodic daily range of temperature
is least during the darkest part of the year, during December and.
January, especially in the north part of the country round the
polar line, and still farther north, where it is almost nil. The
mean range for the whole country is in December only 2°. The
Sn^li >
r4^ V ^'rrJ.,,^
CLIMATE AND GEOLOGY.]
SWEDEN
739
inaximam occurs in June or July at all stations except those of
Tfestern Sweden, ivhere it occurs as early as May. ■ The mean of
June is 13°.. A curious fact is that in Norrland, especially in
the inferior, a secondary maximum occurs in March, which some-
times even exceeds the summer maximum.
' The non-periodic daily range of temperature, or the difference
between the monthly means of daily maximum and minimum of
temperature, is as usual considerably greater than the periodic.
The difference is almost' constant for all stations, especially during
the warmer part of the year. We have, for the whole country —
Non-pertodic.
Periodic.
Difference.
Winter
io°-o
16°-0
19°-1
11° -7
3°-0
ll°-2
13° -0
6° '3
7°-0
4° -8
6°-l
5° -4
SorinET
The mean direction of the winds shows little variation during
diiferent seasons. During the summer it is west or west-south-
wesf in the south of Sweden, changes to south-west in the middle
part of the country, and due south along the coast of the Gulf of
Bothnia. In winter north-north-east winds become comparatively
frequent in the north part of the country. This is explained by
the difference in barometric pressure in summer and ia mnter. In
July the mean height of the barometer indicates a gradual fall
along the coast of the Baltic, from 2»'828 inches in Calmar to
29 '675 in Haparanda. In January, on the other hand, there is a
gradual fall from 29'853 in Calmar to 29'718iu Hernbsand, but
thereafter a gradual rise to 29 '834 in Haparanda. Unfortunately
the isobarometric lines for Sweden have not yet been calculated
with due precision.
The rainfaU is greatest OB the coast of the Cattegat. The
annual amount is greatest at Gothenburg, where it is 32 '56 inches.
At Halmstad it is 28 '26, and at Venersborg, where Gota Elf issues
from Lake Vener, it is 30 '33. These are the rainiest stations of
Sweden. Generally speaking, the amount of rain diminishes
afterwards as well towards north and north-west as towards south-
east. Tte least rain falls on the one hand in northern Lapland,
where the annual amount is only 15 '52 inches, and on the other
hand in the south-eastern corner of Sweden, where (at Calmar)
we ha-^e the lowest known rainfall for the whole country (12'75
inches). Between these two tracts there runs a belt of greater pre-
cipitation from.Gotheuburg towards the north-east to Upsala, where
the annual amount is 23 '28. Even along this belt the amount of
rainfall diminishes towards the north-east, but at every point the
amount is greater than to the north-west and south-east of it.
The greatest amount of rain falls in July and August and the least
in February and March. Thus, for instance, there fall in Upsala
during August 2 '86 inches and during March 0'99 inches. As the
temperature varies, so does the rainfall for different years.
The number of thunderstorms is small in Sweden compared
with the countries of the south. Their number diminishes as
does the precipitation from south-west towards north and east.
From 1871 to 1880 the mean annual number of thunderstorms at
*ach station was 9 '5 in Gotaland, 8 '4 in Svealand, and only 6 '3 in
Norrlajid. In the south their number diminishes rapidly from
west to east, from 11 on the coast of the Cattegat to 8'3 on the
coast of the Baltic, and only 6 '6 on the isle of Gotland. The
thunderstorms have a distinctly marked annual and daily period.
They occur almost always during the warmest time of the year
and of the day. During the above-mentioned ten years the least
number occurred during the month of February, only 3, whereas
there occurred in Jlay 1194, in June 3724, in July 4419, in August
3300, and in September 14C1. As regards the daily period, the
least number, 147, occurred between 1 and 2 A.M., and the greatest,
1704, betv/een 3 and i r.M. In Gotaland and Svealand most of the
thunderstorms come with a south-westerly wind, in Norrland with
a southerly ; for the whole country, the least number como with a
northerly wind.
If the number of thunderstorms is small in Sweden, the same is
in a still higher degree to be said of their intensity. Hail, which
on the Continent causes such immense damage to the growing
crops, is rare in Sweden, and often quite harmles-s. In the soutli
of Germany about 2 per cent, of the crops are annually destroyed
■by hail. At Magdeburg the damage is 0'9 per cent., at Berlin O'fl
to 07 per cent, but in Sweden only 0'06 per cent. (U. II. H.)
Ocolorjy. — Tho fundamental rocks of Sweden belong to the
Azoic or Pre-Cambrian formation, and consist of crystalline rocks.
Three great divisions of this formation may be distinguished, — the
grey gneiss, tho red iron gneiss, and tho granulite.
The grey gneiss rules in tho northern and western parts of tho
country, from West Norrland down to tho province of Calmar.
The rock has a prevalent grey colour, and contains as characteristic
minerals garnet and in some parts graphite.
The rod iron gneiss prevails in western Sweden in tho provinces
of Vermland, Skaraborg, Elfsborg, and down to the province of
Christianstad. The formation is very uniform in its character,
the gneiss having a red colour and containing small gi-auules of
magnetite, but, nevertheless, not a single iron-mine belongs to
this region. The red gneiss contains in many places beds or
masses of hyperite.
The granulite, also called curite and halleflinta, is the most
important of the Bre-Cambrian formation, as it contains all the
metalliferous deposits of Sweden. It prevails in the middle part
of the country, in the provinces of Vermland, Kopparberg,
Vestmanland, and Upsala. It occurs also in some parts of the pro-
vinces of Ostergbtland, Calmar, and Kronoberg. The main rock in
this region consists of halleflinta, a kind of very compact and fine-
grained mixture of feldspar, quartz, and mica, often Graduating to
mica schists, quartzite, and gneiss. With these rocks are often
associated limestones, dolomites, and marbles containing serpentine
(Kolm4rden). The metalliferous deposits have generally the form
of beds or layers between the strata of granulite and limestones.
They are often highly contorted aud dislocated.
The iron-mines occur imbedded in more or less fine-grained
gneiss or granulite (Gellivaara, Grangesberg, Norberg, Striberg),
or separated from the gi'anulite by masses of augitic and
amphibolous minerals (grSnskani), as in Persberg and Nordmark.
Sometimes they are surrounded by halleflinta and limestone, as
at Dannemora, Llngban, Pajsberg, and then carry manganiferous
minerals. Argeutifsrous galena occurs at Sala in limestone,
surrounded by granulite, and at Guldsmedshytta (province of
Orebro) in dark halleflinta. Copper pyrites occurs at Falun
in mica-schists, surrounded by halleflinta. Zinc blende occurs in
large masses at Ammeberg, near the northern end of Lake Vetter.
The cobalt ore consists of cobalt-glance (Tunaberg in the province
of Sodermauland) and of linneite (at Gladhammar, near Vestervik).
The nickel ore of Sweden is magnetic pyrites, contaiuing only a
very-^small percentage of nickel. The magnetic pyrites occurs
generally imbedded in diorite and greenstones. In the evidently
most recent division of the granulite occurs clay-slate (at
Grythytta in the province of Orebro).
Large masses of granite are found in many parts of Sweden,
and form extensive massiffs as in the provinces of Kronoberg,
Orebro, Goteborg, Stockholm, &c. Sometimes the granite gradu-
ates into gneiss ; sometimes (as north of Stockholm) it encloses
large angular pieces of gneiss. In many parts of Sweden occur
greenstones, as hyperite, gabbro (anorthitc-gabbro at Radmanso in
the province of Stockholm), and diorite, the last often forming beds
between the strata of the gneiss.
Tho Cambrian formation occurs generally associated with the
Lower Silurian, and consists of many divisions. The oldest is
a sandstone, in which are found traces of worms, impressions of
Mcdusx, and shells of Lingula. The upper divisions consist of
bituminous limestones, clay-slates, alum-slate, and contain numer-
ous species of trilobites of the genera ParadoxicUs, Conocon/pJte,
Agnoslus, SplixrophUmlmus, Pellura, &c. In Oland and north
of Siljan are found beds with Obobis.
The Lower Silurian consists of the following divisions :— (1) beds
with Ccratopygc ; (2) schists with GraiJtolites ; (3) large beds of red
and grey Umestono (200 feet in thickness) containing Mcgalnsqns
and Orlhoccralites. This limestone is largely used as building
material ; (4) slates with Trinuclcus ; (5) slates with Brachiopods ;
(6) slates with Graptolites. The Cambrian and Lower Silurian
strata occur scattered in several places from Vestorbotten down to
Jemtland (around Storsjon), and in the provinces of Skaraborg,
Elfsborg, Orebro, Ostergtitland, and Christianstad. The whole o(
tho island of Oland consists of these strata. The strata are in
most places very littlo disturbed, and form horizontal or slightly
inclined layers. They are, south of Lake Vener, capped by thick
beds of eruptive diabase (called trapp). North of Lake Siljan
(province of Kopparberg) occur Lower Silurian but not Cam!>rian
strata, which have been re.ry much dislocated. Tho Ui'per
Silurian has in Sweden almost the same character as tho Wenlock
and Ludlow formation of England. Tho island of Gotland con-
sists entirely of this formation, which occurs also in some parts of
tho province of Christianstad. In the western part of the province
of Kopparberg are extensive deposits of sandstone, scparali'd by
bods of diabase, and seemingly of tho same ago,— tho Middlo
Silurian,— but no fossils have been found in tliom. In tho vicinity
of this sandstone region are largo beds aud innssiffs of porphyries.
There are still two sets of stratified, not fo.ssiliferous, ilcposits, viz.,
in the province of Elfsborg (formation of Dalsland) and around
Lake Vetter (formation of Visingso). The Dalsland formation,
which attains the thickness ot 6U00 to 7000 feet, consists of con-
glomerates, chlorite schists, quartzitcs, and mica schists. Tho
Visingso formation, 800 to loOO feet in thickness, consists of sand-
stones, clay-slate, itc. In tho western and northern nlpinc part of
Sweden, near tjio boundaries of Norw.ay, tho Silurian strata are
covered by crystalline rocks, mica schists, quartzites, kc, of
an enormous thickness. These rocks form the moss of tho higb
mountain of Arcskvlan, &c.
Tho Triassio furraati><u (Rhojtio diviaionl occnra In tho northom
740
SWEDEN
[physical features.
part of the province of Malmolnis. This formation consists partly
of sandstones with impressions of plants (cycads, ferns, &c.), and
partly of clay-buds with coal.
The Cretaceous formation occurs in the provinces of Malmohus
and Christianstad. Also some spots of this formation are found in
the province of Blekinge. The Cretaceous beds of Sweden belong to
the most recent division of the Cretaceous formation (chalk and dan-
ien). In many parts it has all the characteristics of a coast-deposit.
The most recent deposits of Sweden date from the Glacial and
Post-Glacial periods. At the beginning of the Glacial period the
height of Scandinavia above the level of the sea was greater than at
present, Sweden being then, connected with Denmark and Germany
and also across the middle of the Baltic with Russia. On the west
the North Sea and Cattegat were also dry land. On the elevated
parts of this large continent glaciers were formed, which, proceeding
downwards to the lower levels, gave origin to large streams and
rivers, the abundant deposits of which formed the diluvial sand
and the diluvial clay. In most parts of Sweden these deposits
were swept away when the ice advanced, but in Sk4ne they often
form still, as in northern Germany, very thick beds. At its maxi-
mum the inland ice not only covered Scandinavia but also passed
over the present boundaries of Russia and Germany. ^Yhen the
climate became less severe the ice slowly receded, leaving its mor-
aines, called in Sweden krosstcnslera and krossteiisgnis. Swedish
geologists distinguish between bottengrus (bottom-gravel, bottom
moraine) and ordinary A"ro55(7n;5 (terminal and side moraine). The
former generally consists of a hard and compact mass of rounded,
scratched, and sometimes polished stones firmly imbedded in
a powder of crushed rock. The latter is less compact and con-
tains angular boulders, often of a considerable size, but no powder.
Of later origin than the krosstensgrus is the ruUstcnsgrus (gravel
of rolled stones), which often forms narrow ranges of hills, many
miles in length, called aiar, running generally, independent of the
relief of the country, in a north-and -south direction or towards the
south-east. They are of the same nature as the kan.es and eskers
in Ireland and Scotland, and consist of rolled pebbles and sand.
It is very probable that these Isar were formed on the bottoms of
rivers which cut their way in the inland ice. During the disap-
pearance of the great inland ice large masses of mud and sand were
carried by the rivers and deposited in the sea. These deposits,
known as glacial sand and glacial clay, cover most parts of Sweden
sooth of the provinces of Kopparberg and Vermland, the more ele-
vated portions of the provinces of Elfsborg and Kronoberg excepted.
In the glacial clay shells of Yoldia arctica have been met with in
many places {e.g., near Stockholm). At this epoch the North Sea
and the Baltic were connected along the line of Vener, Vetter,
Hjelmar, and Malar. On the other side the White Sea was con-
nected by Lakes Onega and Ladoga with the Gulf of Finland and
the Baltic. In the depths of the Baltic and. of Lakes Vener and
Vetter there actually exist animals which belong to the arctic fauna
and are remnants of the ancient ice-sea. The glacial clay consists
generally of their darker and lighter coloured layers, whicn give it a
striped appearance, for which reason it has often been called livarjvig
lera (striped clay). The glacial clay of the Sdurian regions is
generally rich in lime and is thus a marl of great fertility. The
deposits of glacial sand and clay are found in the southern part
of Sweden at a height ranging from 70 to 150 feet above the level
of the sea, but in the interior of the country at a height of 400 feet
above the sea.
On the coasts of the ancient ice-sea, in which the glacial clay
was deposited, there were heaped up masses of shells which belong
to species still extant around Spitzbergen and Greenland. Most
renowned among these shell-deposits are the KapeUbackarne near
Uddevalla. With the melting of- the great ice-sheet the climate
became milder, and the southern part of Sweden was covered with
shrubs and plants now found only in the northern and alpine parts
of the country {Sali.v polaris, Dnjas octopctala, Bctv.Ia nana, kc. ).
The sea fauna also gradually changed, the arctic species migrating
northward and being succeeded by the species existing on the coasts
of Sweden. The Post-Glacial period now began. Sands {mosand)
and clays {ikerlcra Sitti fucuslera) continued to be deposited on the
lower parts of the country. They are generally of insignificant
thickness. In the shallow lakes and enclosed bays of the sea there
began to be formed and still is in course of formation a deposit
known by the osune gyttja, characterized by the diatomaceous shells
it contains. Sometimes the gyttja consists mainly of diatoms, and
is then called bergmjbl. The gyttja of the lakes is generally covered
over by peat of a later date. In many of the lakes of Sweden there
is still in progress the formation of an iron-ore, called sjomalm,
ferric hydroxide, deposited in forms resembling peas, coins, &c.,
and used for the manufacture of iron.' (P. T. C.)
1 The geolocy of Sweden has been worked out principally hy Hisinger, Forselles,
Erdmann, Tornebohm, and othere. A systematic geological survey of Sweden
was set on foot by the Government in 1808. The geology of the fossiliferousstrata
of Sweden has been elaborated chiefly by Nilsson, Angelin, Linnarsson, Lind-
strtjm, Nathorst, and others, and that of the Glacial and Post-Gladal periods by
■ehtrSm, Von Post, Torell, and other*.
Flora. — Of the whole area of Sweden about 132,000 square miles
are covered with wild vegetation. This may be broadly divided
into five different sorts, viz., the forest, bush, marsh, heath, and
prairie vegetations, of which the first-mentioned covers by far the
largest area, or upwards of 40 per cent, of the whole surface of
Sweden. In the northern part of the country the fir (Pinus
sylvestris) and the pine {Pimis Abies) are the predominating trees;
south of Dal Elf the oak (Qitxrcus peduncidata), and in the
southern and south-western provinces the beech {Fagus sylmtica),
are, together with the fir and pine, the forest-forming trees.
Besides these, there are two species of birch {Bctula verrucosa and
B. odorata), which form considerable forests. The bush vegetation
derives its character from various species of Salix, Pubus, and
Rosa,- ivom Prunus spinosa axiA several other species. The marsh
vegetation i.s composed of some low bushes, of Cijpcraccm,
G-raminese, and a small number of dicotyledonous and large-flowered
monocotyledonous plants. The heath vegetation consists princi-
pally of social Erkaicm, especially heather {Calluna vulgaris), and
the prairie vegetation of a considerable variety of plants.
The Swedish phanerogamic flora is angiospermous, with about
thrice as many dicotyledonous as monocotyledonous plants. The
gymnosperms are only about 0'2o per cent, of the species of the
flora. Its largest families are (in the order of number of species)
— Composite, Gramincx, Cypcraccss, Cruciferse, Papilionaccm,
Eosaceai, Personatai, Ranunculacem, Umbelliferm, Alsinaccss,
Labialse, and Orchidex, ''he first-named bting represented by
160, the last-named by 38 species. The number of families repre-
sented amounts to 99. The largest genus of the flora is Carex,
with 88 species. More than 250 genera are represented by only
one species each. The whole number of phanerogamic species
now known in Sweden is 1475. Ot these only a very small number
can be supposed to have originated in the country ; the greatest
number have immigrated from the south or east after the Glacial
period, or have been introduced in one way or another by man.
Among the immigrated species about 400 are more or less generally
spread over the polar countries of the present period, or are to be
found in southern countries as alpine plants. The great mass of
these Glacial plants, the earliest inhabitants of the country, are
confined to the northern part of Sweden ; a smaller number are
also to be found, or are only to be found, in the south and in
particular localities ; a 'larger number — about 70 species — are
abundantly distributed over the whole country.
The Glacial plants were followed and superseded partly by subi
arctic or subglacial spec'es. Of these the Swedish flora l^as about
300, of which 50 are abundantly spread over the country, and 80
are pretty generally and abundantly distributed. The principal
mass ofthe remaining species of the flora have -immigrated in the
same period as the oak, and have spread over the country south of
Dal Elf, or also to the provinces immediately to the north of this
river ; some are outlying steppe-plants ; some have entered with
the beech, the last immigrated forest-tree of Sweden ; and a small
number of- species, now limited to the west of the country, have
possibly entered during a period before that of the beech,' when
the climate was warmer and moister than at present. (F. K.)
Fauna. — After the close of the Glacial period a twofold iramigra 1
tion of animals occurred, — from the south-west through Denmark,
and from the north-east thLQUgh Finland. Of the existing fauna,
many species are widely spread. Especially in the north we find
boreal circumpolar forms (wild reindeer, glutton, arctic fox,
ptarmigan, several birds of prey, Grallee, and aquatic birds).
Others, such as the bear, the wolf, the fox, the magpie, &c., are to
be found only in the Old World, but are represented m America by
forms resembling them so much as to be regarded by many as only
local varieties. Many of the commonest species, e.g., the squirrel,
the woodpeckers, the crow, most of the singing-birds, &c., though
wanting in the New World, are distributed over Europe aii4 parts
of northern Asia.
Besides these we find also specially eastern, southern, and
western forms, which have immigrated from widely separated
regions. Thus, the northern hare, Lepus timidus, properly an
inhabitant of Russia and Siberia, but also to be found in the
mountainous tracts of central Europe, is common in most parts •
of Sweden, while the European hare, Lcpus curopxns, which is
spread over central and western Europe, and is also to be found
in Denmark, is wanting. Most of the field-mice, and many birds
which have an exclusively eastern range, have immigrated from
Siberia. Among mammals, which nearly all belong to Europe,
may be mentioned the roe-deer and the red-deer, the dormouse
and the hedgehog; the last-named is common in central and
southern Sweden. The elk is considered to have immigrated from
the south.
Not very long ago the bear, lynx, and wolf were common in all
the forests of northern and central Sweden, but their number has
rapidly decreased during the last fifty years. The bear is now
confined to the wildest mountain and forest regions of Norrland
and Kopparberg Ian. The wolf was formerly common throughout
the country, and between 600 and 600 were kil'<"' aDnuallii ££»•
"lORA. AND FAUNA.]
SWEDEN
741
ySRrs ago. Now the number is on]y 30 to 40, and it 13 to bo found
almost exclusively in tlie mountain regions of Norrland. The lynx
is also being exterminated ; it is still found in the greater part of
northern and central Sweden, at least as far south as Lake Venor.
On the other hand, foxes have of late increased, at least in certain
parts of the country, and are common everywhere. The glutton
else is by no means rare in the mountain regions of Lapland. The
destruction of cattle caused by beasts of prey, especially iu the
north, is not inconsiderable, the loss being estimated at about 2500
reindeer and from 9000 to 10,000 sheep and goats annually.
Not without influence on the number of the smaller beasts of
prey are the singular migrations of the mountain Lkm.mixo
Iq.v.), which has its home on the higher mountains above the tree-
limit, wheuL-e in certain years it migrates in countless numbers to
the lower forest regions and lowlands, doing great damage to the
Tegetation wherever it goes. After the last migration in 18S3 the
number of the foxes was found to have increased in the regions
through which the lemmings had passed.
Of eatable game the elk holds the first place. It has increased
in numbers and range of late years, and is pretty common in the
forest tracts of central Sweden. The roe-deer, which has its proper
home in the southmost parts of Sweden, has also increased of late,
■and has been seen as far north as Orebro Ian and Vestmanland.
Hares occur in m-eat abundance. Seals are found round the coast;
they are hunted chiefly in the Baltic and the Gulf of Bothnia.
Besides the larger beasts of prey, martens, weasels, otters, and
squirrels are hunted for the sake of their skins, but not to any
great extent. The beaver is now probably extinjt. Some of the
mammals (the bat, hedgehog, dormouse, badger, bear) hibernate ;
most of the other animals are in winter covered with a thicker
coat of hair, and some change their colour to white or grey.
The wood-grouse is the most valued winged game. Its favourite
haunt is the great lone forests. Although it has been obliged to
retreat before advancing cultivation, it is still pretty common in
suitable places. More numerous and almost as much liked is the
black grouse, which has somewhat the same distribution as the
wood-grouse, but is less particular in the choice of its abode. In
the forests of central and especially of northern Sweden the hazel-
grouse is numerous in many places, and on the mountains above
the tree-limit the ptarmigan is common everywhere. In the birch
and willow regions we find the willow-ptarmigan, which above the
snow-line is .superseded by the common ptarmigan. In winter a
great deal of game is exported from Norrland to the southern
provinces. The partridge, probably introduced about 1500, with
aifficulty endures the rude climate of Sweden, and grc.it numbers
often perish in winter for want of food. Still it is distributed all
over southern and central Sweden as far north as Jemtland, and
of late its numbers have increased. The number of woodcock and
snipe is, like that of Orallm in general, decreasing. Numerous
sea-fowl are found on all the coasts. Some are killed and eaten,
but as a rule they are not much relished. Their eggs are collected
for food by the inhabitants of the seaboard. The eider-duck is
common on both coasts. Among the birds of prey the hawk is
the most destructive and the most hunted. The gyrfalconand the
golden eagle are found in Norrland and Lapland, and the sea-eagle
throughout the country, especially on the coasts. Some kinds of
falcons and owls are very common, the latter especially in north-
ern Sweden. In the interior the most chanacteristic birds are
swallows, sparrows, the birds of the crow family, and the singing-
birds, among which the lark, the chaffinch, the thrushes, and the
many species of Sylvia are most noticeable. The northern nightin-
gale is rare in southern Sweden, The cuckoo is heard everywhere,
especially in the forest regions. The mute swan is found in great
numbers in a few places in southern and central Sweden. The
whooper swan frequents the marshes and lakes of Lapland. The
white stork is found in Sklne and Halland, and herons are found in
great numbers here and there in Sk^ne and Blekinge. Cranes are
distributed all over the country. Characteristic of the wild forest
tracts of Lapland is the Siberian jay. Upwards of 250 species of
birds may 'be considered as belonging to the Swedish fauna, most
of them birds of passage, scarcely 40 remaining over winter in their
summer resorts. In spring and autumn Sweden is visited by great
flocks of the birds of passage of the oxtromo north, espocially geeso
and snipe.
Tho reptiles and amphibians are few (3 enakos, 3 lizards,
11 batrachians).
The Swedish rivers and lakes are generally well stocked with
fish. Tho objects of capture arc chiefly salmon, eel, pike, dilTcrent
species of perch, burbot, an<l several species of the Sabiionidsc and
Cyprinidm. The annual income from the fisheries in the lakes
and rivers amounts to upwards of £135,800, of which tho salmon
fisheries alone yield £4 2, 000. Of still greater importance, of course,
are tho sea-fisheries. In the end of last century the herring fishery
in tho "skargArd" of tho west coast was the most important in
Europe, and it is estimated that in one year 1500 millions of
herrings wore taken. Somewhat later, however, the great shoals
disappeared for a Igng time. In 1877 a now era began in the his-
tory of tho west-coast fisheries, the take that year being 1,230,000
cubic feet. Since then the herring has returned every year in
greater or smaller numbers. There are also captured on the same
coast flat-fishes and cod-fish, mackerel, and sprats. The annual
produce of the sea-fishery of the south and west coasts is valued at
about £111,000. A smaller variety of the herring is found in great
abundance on the east coast. In the .Sound it is still 11 inches in
length, iu the Baltic only 6 or 8 inches. This variety is called
" stroiiiining," and is the object of an important fishery, annually
bringing in more than £175,000. About 140 kinds of fishes are
constantly found in Sweden or along its coasts. Of these nearly
100 belong exclusively to the sea, aud upwards of 10 are to be
found both in salt and fresh water. The remainder are properly
freshwater fishes, but many are found in the brackish water of the
Baltic coasts. Here we find perch, pike, kc, by the side of purely
saltwater fishes, as the "strbmming, tho flat-fish, &c. \
The species of Scandinavian insects number at least 15,000.
Notorious among these are the Lapland gnats. Tho "skarg4rd"
of the west coast has a rich fauna of lower marine animals, partly
forms of boreal and arctic descent, partly immigrants from the
south. The Royal Academy of Science has here a zoological
station, Kristineberg, for the purposo of scientifically examining
the marine fauna.
Compared with the fauna of the west coast, that of the Baltic ia
extremely poor. It consists partly of European boreal forms, which
have immigrated from the west, partly of freshwater forms, which
have been able to live in the brackish water. But other types
also occur, which, though sparingly represented, are of tho greatest
interest to the naturalist, — namely, certain dwarfed forms, — two or
three species of fishes, some crustaceans and other lower mariiio
animals, belonging to a purely arctic fauna, which have immigrated
when the Baltic during a part of the Glacial period communicated
with the White Sea. They are wanting on the south and west
coasts of Sweden, but are found in the Arctic Ocean. Some of
them, the four-horned cottus and some crustaceans, arc found in
Lake Vetter and some other lakes of central Sweden, whither they
had como when these lakes formed part of the arctic sea; they
have since been shut in and have survived both the climate and
the altered composition of the water. The arctic "vikare" seal
(Phomfatida), which is common in the north part of tho Baltic but
is not found on the west coast, and which is also found in Lake
Ladoga, Lake Onega, and some lakes of finland, is also considered
as a survival of tlie fauna of the Glacial period. On the west coast
lobster and oyster fisheries are carried on, the former being very
productive. The common mussel is abundant, but in Sweden is
only used as bait for fish. The crayfish is common in many places
in central and southern Sweden. Pearls are sometimes found in
the freshwater mussel Margarilana inargariU/era, which is met with
all over .the country. (A. WI.)
Extent and Population.— Sweden takes rank among tho larger Area «ii*
countries of Europe. It contains 170,712-60 English square miles, popul-i,
of which area 3,51 7 '29 square miles are occupied by tho large lakes tio-j.
Vener, Vetter, Mrilar, and Hjelmar, leaving 167, 19531 square
miles, distributed among the counties as shown in the following
table, which gives tho areas and the estimated population in 1885
of tho difl"eient administrative divisions (the capital Stockholm
and the twenty-four "Ian" or counties) into which tho kingdom
is divided :—
Lan.
Stockholm (city)
Stockholm (rural)
Upsala
Sodcrrnanland
Ostergotland
Jbnkoping
Kronoberg
Calmar
Gotland
Blekinge
Ch ristianstad
Malinohus
Halland
Gbteljorg (Gothenburg)..
Elfsborg
.Skaraborg
^'ernllanu
Orebro
Vestmanland (Vcstcrds)
Kopparberg
Gelleborg
Vestcrnorrland
Jemtland
Vesterliotten
Norrbotten
Square Miles.
12-65
3,008-45
2,052-75
2,630-64
4,272-88
4,440-51
3,841-51
4,439-06
1, 202-97
1,1 64 09
2,506-97
1.84 7-02
1,899-45
1,952-51
4,948-15
3,283-]3
7,345-73
3,502-88
2,623-14
11,420-8
7,418-70
9,519-92
10,003-5
21,942-4
40,315-5
Population.
215,688
148,841
116,406
150,032
267,842
197,392
166,881
240,507
52,570
140,071
226,787
358,178
136,973
281,001
282,335
253,467
259,953
182,513
132,056
194,291
191,223
18»,884
93,091
113,541
96.241
742
SWEDEN
[statistics.
The- population has long teen steadily increasing. In 1760 it
Bmounted to 1,763,368, in 1800 to 2,347,303, and in 1850 to
6,4S2,541. The census of December 31, 1880, returned the num-
ber as 4,565,668 (2,215,243 males, 2,350,425 females), and at the
end of 18S5 the population was estimated at 4,682,769 (2,273,861
males, 2,408.908 females).
It will be seen that Sweden is sparsely peopled (the average for
Ihe whole country being only 28 inhabitants to the square mile),
and that the population is very unevenly distributed, — Malniolius
Ian, which lies farthest south, counting 193 persons to tlic square
mile, whereas Norrbotten, farthest to the north, and by far the
largest county, has only 2'4.
The urban population as lato as 1884 amounted to ouly 777,857
(the rural amounting to 3,866,5911. The towns are in general
small E.xccpt Stockholm (215,688 inhabitants in 1885), only five
towns— GotIienburg(91, 033), Malmo (44,532), Norrkbping (28,503),
Gefie (20,753), and Upsala (20,202)— had in 1885 more than 20,000
inhabitants.
The average number of marriages per 1000 inhabitants was for
each of the years 1751-60' 9'09; this proportion has gradually
diminished since, having been 7"60 in 1851-60 and 6'81 in 1871-
80. The yearly average of living children born from 1871-80 was
133,730, and the yearly average of deaths 80,140. The yearly
average of deaths to 100 inhabitants for 1751-1815 was 2'71;
this number has since been almost constantly decreasing, the
average for 1851-60 being 2-17, and for 1871-80 1-82. Immigra-
tion and emigration till comparatively recent times had little in-
fluence on the numbers of population, but the latter years of the
decennial period 1860-70 caused a change in this respect. The
number of emigrants, which as late as 1867 amounted to little
more than 9000, increased during 1868 to 27,000 and during 1869
to 39,000. During the years that followed there was a consider-
able decrease, but towards 1880 the number of emigrants again
rapidly increased, and in 1882 this amounted to upwards of 50,000.
The figure for 1884 was 23,560. Immigration, on the contrary,
continues to be insignificant. The annual average of immigrants
for 1875-84 was 3333.
The inhabitants of Sweden belong almost exclusively to the
Scandinavian race. The principal exceptions are the Finns (in
1880 about 17,000), who chiefly inhabit the north-eastern part of
the county of Norrbotten, the Lapps (in 1880 about 6400), spread
over an area of about 44,000 square miles in Lapland and Jemtland,
land the Jews (in 1880 about 3000).
Agricullure. — Agriculture is the principal industry in Sweden.
The number of persons gaining their livelihood by this occupation
Und those immediately depending on it was 2,342,000 in 1880,
land the value of the harvest in 1884 was estimated at about
(£25,500,000 sterling, of which the grain-harvest made £14,800,000.
Trora 1840 to 1880 the export of grain (including meal, kc.) ex-
ceeded the import; but this has not been the case since 1881,
'while, on the other hand, the export of dairy produce h«3 mean-
terhile increased.
Mines. — Sweden' is rich in minerals, especially iron-ores, and
the Swedish iron is celebrated for its good quality. In 1884 526
Iron-mines were worked, the joint produce of which amounted to
922.310 tons. The manufacture of cast-iron amounted to 416,958
tons, that of bar-iron to 267,534 tons, of steel to 66,329 tons, and
of hardware to 43,226 tons. The copper during the same year
amounted to 650 tons, and the silver to rather more than 4000 lb.
Pit-coal has.beeu found only iu Malmohus Ian, and even there
in small quantity compared to the consumption of the country.
The produce of the coal-mines was in 1884 not more than 7,277,000
cubic feet, whereas the import of coal amounted to 52,650,000 cubic
feet.
Forests. — A great part of Sweden is, as was above mentioned,
covered with forests. Jlost of these are the property of private
persons or joint-stock companies, but the Government also possesses
large forests, the value of which was in 1884 estimated at about
'£2,400,000. The forest produce ranks among the principal articles
of export from Sweden.
Manufactures. — It was not till 1854 that Sweden completely
broke with the pre-existing protectionist system and .ado|ited the
princijiles of free trade. Since 1860 there has been no prohibition,
and import duty is in general low. The value of the manufactures,
which as late as 1850 was estimated at only £2,000,000, was for
1883-eomputed at more than £10,600,000.
Commerce. — The united value of the exports and imports of
Sweden was estimated for 1850 at little more than £4,000,000,
whereas in 1884 it was something over £31,000,000 (imports about
£18,000,000, exports about £13,000,000). The principal articles
of export were — timber and wooden wares, £5,747,000 ; metals and
hardware goods, £2, 667,000; grain (includingmeal.ic), £1,307,000;
animal food, £1,081,000; live animals, £652,000; paper and
stntiouery, £584,000. The principal articles of import during
the same year were — cotton tind woollen manufactured goods,
£3,012,000; colonial products (cofl"ee, sugar, &c.), £2,309,000;
grain and meal, £2,25'i,00Q v minerals (principally coal), £1,479,000;
^.
metals and hardware goods, £1,308,000 ; cotton, wool, &e.
£1,125,000; animal food, £1,036,000; ships, carriages, machines,
instruments, &c., £807,000 ; hair, hides, bones, horns, and other
animal substances, £784,000; tallow, oils, tar, gums, and similar
substances, £782,000. The aggregate burden of vessels entennf;
from and cleariug to foreign ports was 858,827 tons iu 1850, 5,388,085
tons in 1884. The estimated value of the exports to the UniteJ
Kingdom during 1884 was £6,229,000, to Donujark £1,848,000,
to France £1,073,000, to Germany £1,008,000, and to Korway
£604,000 ; while the imports from Great Pritain iind IielanJ
reached £4,952,000, from Germany £4,947,000, from Denmark
£2,932,000, from Russia and Finland £1,881,000, and from Korwav
£1,225,000.
•Railways, Posts, and Telegraphs. — The length of the railways in
Sweden is very great in proportion to the |>opuIa(ion. in 1884
the total length was 4194 miles, of which 1437 miles belonged to
tlie Government and 2657 to 76 juivate com]>anics. The jiostaJ
system is remarkably well organized. In 1884 the number ol jiost
olfices was 1965, tlirougli which 40,533,627 inland letters, post-
cartls, post-otiice ordeis, newspaper and book packets, &c., were for-
warded, and 5,507,770 to and 6,511,248 from foreign coun,trifs.
The telegraph system is also in a very nourishing condition. Thi^
total length of the telegraph wires in 1884 was 12,969 miles, aniU
the number of messages forwarded was 1,178,959.
Education. — "Witli regard to education Sweden occupies a very
prominent place. I'rimary education is compulsoiy for alt tho
childien of the country, and this jirinciple is so strictly a]>plic('
that in 1834 out of 733,329 cliildren of school-age only ]5,14i
were not under tuition. To sujiply this primary instruction there
arc 9925 national schools of dilfcrcnt kinds, with 5^16 male teachers
and 6832 female teachers (1884). For higher educational purposes
there are 96 public schools (1885), of three grades, willi 14, 61 J
pupils, and two universities (Ujisala with 1821 and Lund with 827
students). In Stockholm there is, besides, a medical faculty, the
Royal Carorne Jledico-Chirurgical Institution. A free university
is in course of formation, for which large sums have been given
by private persons. There are a large immber of Government
schools for the military and naval services, for the technical sciences,
for metallurgy, agiicultuie, nautical science, ;iud fur the blind and
the deaf and dumb. All instruction at the national schools, the
public schools, and the univei'siries is free.
Jicligion. — Christianity was introduced into Sweden about the Rtfligf^
ninth century, and was generally professed by the twelfth. The '
country adojited the doctrines of the Reformation during the reign
of Gustavus Vasa. The national church, established by the resolu-
tion passed at Upsala in 1593 {Upsala viote), is Lutheran. The
country is divided into 12 bishoprics (sti/t). The bishop of Upsala
is archbishop of Sweden. In 1880 the number of dissenters was
21,234, of whom 14,627 were Baptists, 2993 Jews, 1591 Methodists,
and 810 Roman Catholics.
Army and Xavij. — The land defences consist partly of a stand-
ing army, partly of a militia. The former is for the most [lart
founded on the so-called "indelningsverk. " an institution dating
from the time of Sweden's greatness, which makes the sohliet
a settled farmer. This force comprises about 40,000 men. Tho
militia comprises (since 1885) all males between twenty-one and
thirty-two years of age. The time of drill for tho militia is only
forty-two days, extending over two years.
The navy, with a permanent personnel (also for the most part
founded on the " indelningsverk ") of rather more than 700O
men, consists principal!}- of coasting vessels, both ironclad and
unarmoured.
Constitution. — Sweden is a limited monarchy. Its con-
stitution, like that of England, rests on an histoiical
development of several centuries. From the earliest times
the people governed themselves through elected trustees,
made laws and levied taxes, while the king was little more
than their leader in war. By and by the power of the
king vas extended, and alongside of it there arose a class
of great men, who certainly lessened the legal rights of
the lower orders, but who never succeeded in completely
subduing them. Through Engelbrecht the burghers and
yeomen regained their inliuonce on the development of the
state, and their deputies were summoned to the riksdag
(1435). Gustavus Vasa and his son Charles IX. stripped
the nobility of the high authority they had exercised
during the latter part of the mediajval period, and which
had been dangerous both to the power of the king and to
the people, and so saved the work of Engelbrecht.^ The
right of the lower classes to be members of the riksdag
was confirmed by the first " Riksdagsordning " (" law for
regulating the riksdag or parliament") of Sweden (IC17),
)
•CONSTITUTION. J
SWEDEN
743
which for the first time legally regulated the system uf
four houses formerly adopted. In the 16th century the
nobility, having been endowed with extensive domains
by the crown, again won an ascendency that was very
dangerous to the lower classes, but it was crushed when
Charles XI., by tlie diminution of their property (1680),
for ever put an end to the supremacy of the nobility and
the council in the state. By this act the power of the
king was greatly strengthened, so much so as to endanger
even the most essential rights of the riksdag, — those of
giving laws and levying taxes. But after the death of
Charles XII. the despotic system was abolished, and all
power was lodged in the hands of the riksdag by the
constitutions of 1719 and 1720. During the following
period, which is called " the time of liberty," it was the
riksdag that had the function of appointing and dismissing
the councillors of state, and by this means was able to
dominate the administration so completely as to make the
power of the king of little more significance than an empty
word. Different political parties defeated each other, and
sold their services to foreign states without any regard to
the interests of their own country. This state of affairs,
which might eventually have proved exceedingly disastrous,
was altered by a revolution effected by Gustavus III.
(1772), which restored to the king his former power. In
the new constitution, however, neither the authority of the
king nor that of the people was clearly limited, and this
soon led to collisions by which the king succeeded in
(ionsiderably increasing his ascendency (1789),, though ho
cannot be said to have gained despotic power. Gustavus
IV., however, abused his great authority, so that he was
dethroned by a revolution. New constitutional laws were
now made, in which, guided by the experience of former
times, an effort was made clearly to define the respective
powers of the king and the representatives of the people,
to prevent encroachment froni either side. The effort was
drowned with success, and the new constitution of June G,
1809, is stiU in great measure in force. The old divfsion,
however, into four houses has been abolished, and the
icfluence of the representatives of the people has been ia-
ci eased by the new Eiksdagsordning of 18G6. The other
constitutional laws are the " Successionsordning " ("law
oi succession") of 1810 and the " Tryckfrihetsordning "
(' law regulating the liberty of the press") of 1812.
Tiio executive power is vested in the king alone. The
legislative power he shares with the riksdag, both par-
ties having the rights of initiative and veto. The king
has, besides, a legislative power, not preci-sely defined, in
certain economic matters. The right of levying taxes
belongs to the rik.sdag alone ; but tho king may in cer-
tlin cases (as, for example, througli his right of lowering
the custom duties) exercise a certain intluonce. Ho can
declare war and make peace, and has the supreme com-
mand of tho army.
The king is irresponsible, but all his resolutions must bo
taken in tho presence of responsible councillors ("statsrad").
These, who form the council of state, are ten in number,
of whom seven are also the heads of departments of tho
adndnistration (justice, foreign affairs, army, navy, internal
affairs, finance, and ecclesiastical affairs, including both
chui-ch and schools). For the advice they give the coun-
cilh rs of state are responsible to tho riksdag, wiiich re-
vises the record of their proceedings through an annually
appointed board, which has power also to indict tho coun-
cillors boforo a special tribunal, tho " riksriitt," formed for
the occasion, of which certain high functionaries have to
be members. One of tho councillors of state is, as prime
minister. t)io head of the administration.
The riksdag meets every year on January 15, and
tonsists of <wo houses. The members of tho first house,
one for every 30,000 inhabitants (143 in 1887), are elected
by tho " landsting " in the counties, or by the municipal
councils of the larger towns, for a period of nine years.
They receive no payment. Any Swede is eligible who
is at least thirty-five years of age, who possesses, and
for three years before the election has possessed, real pro-
perty to the value of 80,000 crowns, or who, during the
same period, has paid taxes on an annual income of 4000
crowns. The members of the second house (one or two
for every district of judicature in the country, according
as the population exceeds or falls short'of 40,000, and one
for every 10,000 inhabitants in the towns) receive a salary
of 1200 crowHis, and are elected for a period of three years
by electors, or directly, according to the resolution of the
electoral district. If a member retires during that period,
his successor is elected for the remainder of the three
years, and thus the house is wholly renewed at regular
intervals, which is not the case with the first house. The
franchise is possessed by every one who owns landed
property to the value of 1000 crowns, or who has farmed
for at least five years lands worth 6000 crowns, or pays
taxes on an annual income of 800 crowns. All electors
are eligible. The number of electors is about 6-5 per cent,
of the population. The towns elect their represeniatives
separately. Both houses have in theory equal power.
Before bills are discussed they are prepared by boards,
whose members are elected by half of each house. When
the houses differ on budget questions, the matter is settled
by a common vote of both houses, which arrangement gives
the second house a certain advantage from the greater
number of its members. By revisers elected annually the
riksdag controls the finances of the kingdom, and by an
official (" justitieombudsman") elected in the same way the
administration of justice is controlled ; he can indict any
functionary of the state who has abused his power. The
bank of the kingdom is superintended by trustees elected
by the riksdag, and in the same way the public debt is
administered through an office ("Riksgiildskontoret"), the
leader of which is appointed by the riksdag.
Administration, Law, and Justice. — Tho administration
consists partly of a centralized civil service, arranged under
different departments, partly of local authorities. Each of
the twenty-four counties has a governor ("landshofding")
who presides over the local offices (the " landskansli," the
" landskontor "), and is assisted .by subordinate loc£.I
officers (" krouofogdar," " haradsskrif vare," " liinsmiin ").
There is, moreover, in each county a representation (the
"landsting"), elected by the people, that deliberates on
the affairs of the county and has a right to levy taxes.
Each county is divided into parishes, which, like the towns,
have a very strong communal self-government. The law
of Sweden dates from 1736, but it has of course under-
gone a great many alterations and additions, the most
important being tho new penal law of 1864. Justice is
administered by tribunals of three instances: — (1) the
" hiiradsriitter " in tho country, consisting of a judge and
seven to twelve assessors elected by tho people, who, if
they are unanimously of an opinion different from that
of tho judge, can outvote him, and the " r.Uhusriitter "
^boards of magistrates) in the towns ; (2) three " hofriittor"
(higher courts) in Stockholm, Jonkiiping, and Christian-
stad ; and (3) the royal supremo court, which passes gen-
tonce in tho name of tho king, and two members of which
are present in tho council of state when law questions are
to be settled ; this tribunal has, moreover, to give ita
opinion upon all proposed changes of tho law. A jury
is never summoned in Sweden except in cases affecting th&
liberty of tho press.
U7iion. with Norway. — Sweden has been united to Nor-
vcay since 1814. Tho union is regulated by tho " liiksakt
744
SWEDEN
of 1S15, according to wliich each country is free and inde-
Ijendent, thuugh both are governed by the same king.
The uoiinexioiis of both countries with foreign states are
regulated by the Swedish minister for foreign affairs, but
vhen the king has to settle matters concerning foreign
states which also are of importance to Xorway a ISorwegiaa
councillor of state has to be present. Both countries have
the .same ambassadors and consuls abroad, and share the
expenses of theii- support, Sweden bearing the larger part
of this outlay. In war the two countries are bound to
assist each other. Thus the union is what is called a
" unio realis." (j. F. N.)
Paet n. — History.
From the earliest times of which we have any authentic
information there were in Sweden two more or less dis-
tinct peoples, — the Gbta or Goths in the south, and the
Svea or Swedes in the north. They spoke similar lan-
guages, were of the same Teutonic stock, and had like
customs, institutions, and religious beliefs ; but these facts
did not prevent them from regarding one another with
jealousy and dislike. The most powerful king among
these peoples was the king at Dpsala. There were other
chiefs or kings, called in later times smaa-kongar, but
they recognized the superiority of the Upsala king, whose
peculiar position was due to the fact that there was at
Upsala a great temple of Wodan, which was held in equal
reverence by the Swedes and the Goths. Upsala was in
the territory of the Swedes, and we can account for the
feeling of the Goths with regard to it only by supposing
that they were an offshoot from the Swedes, and that the
■worship of Wodaa was in some special way associated
■with Upsala before the separation took place. Of the two
peoples, the Goths seem to have been most active and
open to new ideas. They spread along the southern coasts
of Sweden and among the islands of "the Baltic, and there
can be little doubt that the Goths in Germany and Russia,
who played so great a part in the disruption ol the Koman
empire, sprang from the S'wedish Goths.
Slavery was not unknown in ancient Sweden, but it did
not form an important element in social life. The vast
majority of the people were free. They were divided into
two classes, jarls and bondar, corresponding to the Anglo-.
Saxon eorls and ceorls. The bondar ■were the landed
freemen, while the jarls were of noble blood. In some
remote age the .land may have been held in common by
village communities, but in historic times there has always
been in Sweden private property in land as well as in
movables, — the jarls having wider lands than the bondar,
and some bondar being better off than other members of
their class. The kings were treated with much respect,
for they belonged to families which were believed to be
descended from the gods ; but their power was far from
being absolute. When a king died, his authority did not
necessarily pass to one of his sons ; the freemen chose as
bis successor the member of the royal family who seemed
to them best fitted for the duties of the' office. The
kind's power was limited not only by the fact that he
was elected but by the rights of the freemen in all matters
concerning life and land. At regular times moots ■were
held for legal, legislative, and political purposes; and
without the sanction of the Great Thing, as the tribal
assembly was called, no law was valid dTnd no judgment
good.
Besides .the Great Thing, of which all freeman were
members, there were local things, each attended by the
freemen of the district to which it belonged. The chief
function of these local assemblies was to settle disputes
between freemen, their decisions being given in accord-
[BISTOEy.
I ance with rules basea on ancient customs. Very often
their judgments could not be enforced ; and here, as in
other Teutonic lands, the impotence of the local popular
courts was one of the causes which led to the growth 'of
the king's authority. He was bound to go round his
land in regular progress, doing and enforcing justice
among his subjects ; and in course of time men felt more
and more .strongly that the best way of obtaining redresa
for serious grievances was to appeal directly to him.
As far back as ■v\e can go in Swedish historj' we find
that the principal aim of the Upsala kings was to get rid
of the smaa-kongar, and to put royal officers in their
place. These officers ruled in the king's name in associa-
tion with the local things, but their tendency, especially
in times of great civil commotion, was to make themselves
as independent as possible. The king himself was always
attended by some of the leading magnates, who formed a
sort of council of state, and with their aid he prepared
the plans which were afterwards submitted to the Great
Thing. Although the Great Thing never ceased to be in
theory an assembly of the nation, it gradually lost its
primitive character, the political rights of the common
freemen being usurped by the nobles, Avho sought also to
hamper the exercise of the royal authority.
According to the Ynr/linc/a Sat/a, in which bits of old
Swedish legends are preserved, the first Upsala kings
were Ynglingar, sprung from Yngve Frey, the grandson
of Wcdan. We are told that the last representutive of
this dynasty- was Ingjald Illrede, that he slew six of the
smaa-kongar, and that he afterwards killed himself when
he heard that the son of one of the murdered chiefs was
advancing against him. It is said that the Ynglingar
were succeeded by the Skioldungar, who claimed to be
descended from Skiold, Wodan's son ; and the traditional
account is that this line began with Ivar Widfadme, and
that he not only became king at Upsala but conouered
Denmark, a part of Sasony, and the fifth pan ol Eng-
land. Another of the Skioldungar, Eric Edmundsson, is
said to have been an even greater king than the founder
of the dynasty. During this legendary period, kings in
Sweden were often at war with kings in Norway and
Denmark, and Swedish adventurers undertook many war-
like enterprises against the Finns and the Wends. While
Danes and Korwegians were founding states in the British
Islands and France, the Swedes were accomplishing like
results on the eastern shores of the Baltic
At this early period Sweden did not take in all the
territory which now belongs to it. Scania, one of the
most fruitful and prosperous districts of modern Sweden,
had been from time immemorial an independent and com-
paratively powerful Gothic state. In the 9th century
it was annexed to Denmark by King Guthrun ; and,
although in later times it was often a subject of bitter
dispute between Denmark and Sweden, its connexion
with the former country w^as not finally severed until the
17th century. Lund, the principal town in Scania, was
for many generations the see of the primate of the Danish
church.
The scattered notices of Adam of Bremen, Saxo, and
certain saints' lives, with a few allusions elsewhere, are our
direct written sources for this early period. They may be
eked out by study of the laws and of local nomenclature.
Later the rich runic remains of Sweden give us some
fuller help. After the end of the 10th century the
evidence gradually becomes clearer and more trustworthy.
There was then at Upsala a powerful king called Eric
the Victory-Blest. He defeated a band of vikings in
a great battle at Fyrisval, and, accorrling to Adam of
Bremen, had for some time complete control over
Denmark. He was succeeded in 993 by his , son Olaf
P93-1306.]
SWEDEN
745
(993-1024), who was called the Lap-King because he was a
child when his reign began. Olaf was baptized about the
year 1000, and was the first Christian king of the Swedes.
In the 9th century St Ansgar had laboured for some time
as a missionary in Sweden, but without much success.
Even Olaf, who was supported in his efforts by Siegfred,
the devoted English missionary from whom he had received
instruction in Christian doctrine, found that it was
impossible to convert the majority of his subjects. He
was allowed to build churches in West Gothland, but in
the rest of his dominions the people clung obstinately to
paganism. During his reign there was war between
Sweden and Norway, and Olaf seems to have been in
favour of carrying on the struggle with vigour. His
people, however, desired peace, and it is related that at
the Great Thing at Upsala they threatened to take his
life if he did not give Olaf, the Norwegian king, his
daughter in marriage. He consented to do as they
"wished, but broke his promise ; and he would probably
have been set aside had it not been for the mutual jealousy
of the Swedes and the Goths.
The Lap-King was succeeded, one after the other, by his
sons Anund and Edmuad the Elder ; and under their rule
the church lost much of the ground which it had gained
through the efforts of Olaf. After Edmund the Elder's
death the Goths resolved that Stenkil, the Christian jarl
of West Gothland, should be made king. This decision
■was resisted by the Swedes, but the result of the civil war
■which broke out was that Stenkil was able to maintain
his claim. He reigned from 1056 to 1066, and effectually
protected the church vrithout attempting to do violence
to the convictions of the pagan population. His reign
was followed by a period pf much confusion, during which
the Goths and the Swedes treated each other as enemies, —
'the latter upholding paganism, the former contending for
Christianity. Under Inge the Elder, who reigned from
1IO8O to 1112, the temple at LTpsala was burned, and from
(this time there could be no doubt as to the ultimate
'triumph of the church, which was served with heroic
courage by many zealous foreign missionaries. So much
progress was made that Swerker Karlsson, who reigned
from about 1135 to 1155, begged the pope to give the
Swedish people bishops and a primate. Nicholas Break-
spear, the English cardinal who was afterwards raised to
the papacy as Adrian IV., was sent to make the necessary
Brrangements. He found that the Swedes and the Goths
could not agree a^'lo a place for the see of a primate ;
'but at a synod which met at Linkoping in 1152 it was
decided that the Swedish clergy should accept the law of
celibacy, and that Sweden should pay a yearly tax to the
pope. For a long time many pagan ideas and customs
survived, but Sweden was now, at least nominally, a
Christian country.
When Swerker was murdered in 1155 the Goths ■wished
to make his son king, but the Swedes chose Eric Edwards-,
son, and he reigned until 1160. Eric was so good a king
that after his death he was canonized by the popular
voice, as was then the way in the North. Upsala was
made by him a primate's see, and he began the series of
efforts which led to the annexation of Finland to Sweden.
Finnish pirates had often desolated the Swedish coasts,
and it had become absolutely necessary that their country
should bo subdued. Eric not only overcame the Finns,
but did what ho could to compel them to accept Chris-
.tianity.
, For about a century after Eric's death the Goths and
the Swedes were almost constantly at war with one
another, each people choosing its own king. The Goths
ipreferred the descendants of Swerker, while the Swedes
were loyal to the descendants of Eric, who were known as
the yeomen-kings, because Eric had originally belonged
to the class of bondar or yeomen. The Danish kings
often aided one or other of the contending parties, and as
a rule they seem to have done far more harm than good
by their interference. To some extent the church main-
tained among the people a sense of national unity, but it
was not powerful enough to give much protection to the
poorer members of the community against the despotism
of local magnates. In the end, when the church itself
became rich, the higher clergy were quite as tyrannical as
the secular nobles.
John Swerkerson, the last king of the Swerker dynasty,
died in 1222, Eric the Halt, the last of the yeomen-kings,
in 1250. In the latter year the crown was given to
Waldemar, whose mother was a sister of King Eric the
Halt. Waldemar belonged to the Folkungar family, which
had acquired great estates and risen to a position of high
importance in the state. Under this dynasty the Goths
and the Swedes gradually ceased to be jealous of one
another, and became a thoroughly united people. From
this time civil troubles in Sweden sprang, not from the
antagonism of rival peoples, but chiefly from the increas-
ing power of the great landowners, who strove incessantly
to limit the rights of the free peasantry, and were often
strong enough to defy the c*own.
At the time of the death of Eric the Halt, Birger Brosa,
Waldemar's father, was in Finland, where he conquered
Tavastland and strengthened the hold of the Swedish
crown over those tribes which had been already subdued.
On his return to Sweden he was indignant to find that ho
had not himself been elected to the throne. He accepted
what had been done, however, and devoted his energies to
the promotion of his son's interests Until his death
Birger was the real ruler of Sweden, and the nation had
never been governed by a man of stronger ivill or more
upright character. If he did not actually found Stock-'
holm, it was he who made it the strongest fortress in the',
country, — a service for which the Swedish people had good
reason to be grateful to him, for it enabled them to put
an end to the depredations of Finnish pirates After the
death of Birger great evils were brought. upon the country
by the folly and incompetence of Waldemar, who was at
last driven from the throne and imprisoned by his brother
Magnus, who succeeded him. Magnus (1279-1290) was Magnus,
a lover of pomp and splendour, and formed a more
brilliant court than the Swedes had ever seen. He
granted immunity from taxation to those landowners who
should give the crown ross-iljenst or horse-service, that
is, serve the king in war at the head of a body of horse-
men. His intention in adopting this plan was to secure
for the crown a powerful body of loyal and attached
supporters, but, as the measure added to the wealth,
dignity, and influence of the noWes, its ulti.matc effect was
to weaken the royal authority. Although he increased the
importance of the aristocracy, Magnus was not unmindful
of the interests of the common freemen. Ho is known
as Ladu-laas or Barn-Lock, because he issued a law requir-
ing persons of noble birth to pay for the straw and corn
with which, -NVhcn travelling, they might bo supplied by
peasants. Magnus was also a munificent benefactor of tho
clergy. He endowed a largo number of churches and
built five monasteries.
Magnus was succeeded by his son Birger (1290-13'19).
Birger was only nine years old when his father died, and
for a long time tho power of the crown was wielded by his
guardian, Torkel Knutsson, a wise and vigorous statesman,
Knuts&cJh drew up a code of laws which was accepted by
the Great Thing in 1295 ; and in Finland ho not only put
down rebellion but annexed Savolax and Carclia. Iq
1306, misled by his brothers Eric and Waldemar, Birge»
XXII. — a*
746
SWEDEN
[hiRTC2T.
caiisorl this faithful and able counsellor to be beheaded,
and tlio result was civil war, in which the weak king found
it hard to make way against his restless and ambitious
brothers. At last he got them into his power by treachery,
and threw them into a dungeon of the castle of Nykoping,
where they died of starvation. Soon afterwards Birger
himself died, despised and hated by his subjects. He was
succeeded by his nephew Magnus, his brother Eric's son,
a child of about three years of age. Magnus's guardian,
Mats Ketilmundsson, was a man of strong and noble char-
acter, and as long as his supremacy lasted the Swedish
people were more prosperous than they had ever been
before. Taking advantage of the troubled condition of
Denmark, he joined Scania and the neighbouring districts
of Halland and Blekinge to the Swedish kingdom ; and had
his prudent system of government been maintained these
provinces might have been kept, for the inhabitants seem
to have preferred Swedish to Danish rule. But, when he
died in 1330, the king fell under the influence of un-
worthy favourites. Scania, Halland, and Blekinge were
restored to Denmark, and Sweden was soon in a state
of the greatest confusion. In 1363 a number of nobles
who had given Magnus much trouble, and whom he had
expelled from the country, went to his sister's son Albert,
count of Mecklenburg, and offered him the crown. The
offer was accepted, and afterwards Albert was formally
elected by the Great Thing. Magnus resisted, but was
defeated and made prisoner in a battle at Enkbping in
1365. In 1371 he was released, and the rest of his
days he spent in Norway, where he was not unpopular.
From his mother he had inherited the Norwegian crown,
but before the misfortunes of his later years it had been
transferred to his son Haco.
Albert. The nobles and the hierarchy of Sweden w-ere now so
powerful that only a king of the highest political genius
could have hoped to control them. Albert of Mecklenburg
proved to be utterly unfit for the task he had undertaken.
He tried to protect himself by giving many of the great
ofiices of state to Germans, but he w-as w-arned that he
would be dethroned if he continued to show so much
favour to foreigners. In 1371 he accepted as his chief
counsellor a great Swedish noble called Bo Jonsson, to
whom about a third of the kingdom is said to have
belonged. Bo Jonsson gave much more heed to his own
interests than to those of his country, and did hardly
anything to mitigate the hardships inflicted on the
common people at this time by the turbulence of the well-
off classes. After Bo Jonsson's death Albert attempted to
regain some of the authority which he had been forced to
delegate to his powerful minister ; but the nobles refused
to obey him, and invited Margaret of Denmark and
.Norway to take his^place.
[MaT' Margaret, one of the most remarkable figures in
^acA Scandinavian history, was the daughter of Waldemar IV.
of Denmark, and at an early age she had become the wife
of Haco of Norway, son of the Swedish king svhom
Albert had supplanted. The offspring of this marriage
was an only son, Olaf, who succeeded his grandfather in
Denmark in 1375 and his father in Norway in 1380.
Both countries were ruled firmly and wisely by Margaret
in her son's name; and after his death in 138'7 the Danes
and the Norwegians begged her to retain supreme power.
To this request she assented; and, when the Swedish nobles
asked her to undertake the government of Sweden also,
she at once expressed her willingness to attack Albert, who
had irritated her by claiming the Danish crown. An army
was soon despatched to Sweden, and in 1389 Albert was
defeated and taken prisoner at Falkoping. Stockholm,
which was'held by German mercenaries, refused to admit
the conqueror, and for several years it was besieged
without success by Danish troops. At last the difficulty
had to be settled by negotiation. In 1395 it was arranged
that Albert should be set at liberty on condition that
within three years he should pay a ransom of 60,000
marks. If at the end of that period the money was not
paid, he was either to give up Stockholm or to return to
captivity. The result was that in 1398 Stockholm was
surrendered by the Hanseatic League, which had become
security for the fulfilment of Albert's engagement.
Meanwhile Margaret had persuaded the Danes, the
Norwegians, and the Swedes to accept her grandnephew
Eric of Pomerania as her successor, and in 1397 he was
crowned at Calmar. Margaret was eager that the union
of the Scandinavian countries under a single sovereign
should be made permanent, and delegates from the
councils of state of the three kingdoms met at Calmar to
discuss her proposals. On the 20th of July 1397 these
delegates concluded what was called- the union of Calmar.
Sweden, Norway, and Denmark, while retaining their
local laws and customs, were in all future time to be
ruled by one king. When a king died he was to be
succeeded by his eldest son ; but if he were childless his
successor was to be freely elected. In foreign affairs
Scandinavia was always to act as a united country.
Margaret had excellent intentions in devising this bold
scheme, but the time was not ripe for so vast a change.
It was inevitable that when popular movements were no
longer held in check by her strong will, formidable
difficulties should spring from the jealousies of the three
nationalities.
Even after Eric's coronation Margaret remained the real Eric X
sovereign, and she was powerful enough to make the union
something more than a mere name. But even during
her lifetime the Swedish people showed that they resented
the idea of being taxed for objects in which they were
only indirectly interested, and when she died (in 1-412)
it soon became evident that Eric would be unable to
retain their allegiance. In 1386 Margaret had formally
recognized the claim of Gerhard VI., count of Holstein,
to be feudal lord of the duchy of Schleswig. Gerhard died
in 140-1, leaving three young sons. Margaret and Eric
then tried to recover the rights of the Danish crown in the
duchy; and, in 1-413, soon after Margaret's death, Eric
caused Schleswig to be declared a forfeited fief. The result
was a war which lasted about twenty years. The Swedea
had to bear heavy burdens to enable Eric to carry on the
confl'ct, and he made no attempt to allay their discontent;
He seldom visited their country, and his officers often
treated them with reckless cruelty. In the province of
Dalecarlia the royal bailiff acted so tyrannically that in
1434 the people rebelled. They were led by a brave and
patriotic miner, Engelbrecht Engelbrechtsson, and under
his influence the movement spread rapidly among the
peasantry of other districts. The Swedish council of
state, alarmed by the enthusiasm he had excited, agreed
in 1436 to declare the king deposed. The nobles wereS;
more afraid of the peasants than of Eric, and soon placed
him on the throne again ; but he never fully recovered hia
authority. He was obliged to make Charles Knutsson his
viceroy in Sweden ; and Knutsson was as anxious as
Engelbrechtsson that Swedish independence should be
restored. The two patriotic leaders became jealous of one
another, and Engslbrechtsson was murdered by a member
of Knutsson's party. But the popular agitation lost none
of its original force, and in 1439 Eric was dethroned by
all his kingdoms. He fled to the island of Gotland,
where he lived for some years by piracy ; and afterwards
he was compelled to seek for refuge in Pomerania.
Christopher of Bavaria, Eric's nephew, was elected to
the Danifih throne, and he was soon acknowledged also in
1306-15G0.]
SWEDEN
747
Norway and Sweden. He was a man of good intentions,
but was not strong ' enough to overcome the prejudice
created against him by the fact of his being a foreigner.
,When he died in 1448 the Danes chose Christian, count
of Oldenburg, as his successor, and the Norwegians by
and by followed their example. Had the decision in
Sweden rested only with the nobles and the clergy,
Christian would at once have received the Swedish crown,
for under the nominal rule of a foreign king these classes
were able to tyrannize as they pleased over their poorer
neighbours. But the Swedish people generally so strongly
disliked the iinion, and stood so urgently in need of the
protection of a native sovereign, that Charles Knutsson
was made king. He mounted the throne as Charles VIII.
The aristocracy, both spiritual and temporal, detested
him ; and in 1457 he found in Archbishop Jons Bengtsson
80 formidable an enemy that he had to make his escape to
Dantzic. Christian I. of Denmark and Norway then
became king of Sweden, but he was unable to assert
supremacy over the country as a whole, and in 1164
Charles VIII. again secured the throne. In the following
year Charles was displaced a second time, but soon after-
wards he was recalled, and he retained the crown until his
death in 1470.
n Charles was sueceeaect, not as kmg but as regent, by
re his nephew Sten Sture, under whose firm rule Sweden
became prosperous and contented. Sten Sture was a far-
seeing statesman, and sided resolutely with the peasants
against the nobles. He took great pains also to promote
the intellectual culture of the people. The university of
Upsala was founded by him, and he introduced into
Sweden the art of printing, and invited to the country
many foreign scholars. He was not able wholly to destroy
the union, for in 1496 he was defeated by King Hans
of Denmark and Norway, who afterwards received the
Swedish crown. Nevertheless Sten Sture remained the
real master of Sweden, and after the defeat of the Danes
by the Ditmarshers in 1500 his power was almost
absolute. He died in 1503, when his authority passed to
bis nephew Svanto Nilsson Sture, whom King Hans and
the Swedish clergy and nobles in vain attempted to put
' down. Svante Nilsson Sture was succeeded by his son,
Sten Sture the younger, in 1512, and for some time this
brave and patriotic, regent vigorously held his ov/n both
against his enemies at home and against Christian II.,
king of Denmark and Norway. In 1520, however, he
was mortally wounded in a battle with the Danes at
Bogesund, after which Christian II. became king of
Sweden. This sovereign had some enlightened ideas, but
he was a man of ferocious passions, and he had no sooner
restored the union than he made the maintenance of it
impossible by an act of almost unparalleled cruelty.
Under the pretence of upholding the honour of the church
he ordered at Stockholm the execution of ninety persons
accused of having taken part in the deposition of his
friend and supporter Archbishop Gustavus Trolle, who
had been the late regent's bitterest enemy. Most of the
condemned men were nobles, and Christian hoped that
by killing them he would secure the allegiance of the
peasantry. The whole Swedish nation, however, was
shocked by so horrible a ma.ssacre, and resolved to shake
off for ever the hated Danish yoke.
The movement for national independence was headed by
Gustavus Ericsson, known afterwards as Gustavus Vasa.
This young noble had been one of a group of Swedish
hostages whom Christian II. had sent to Denmark, treat-
ing them as if they had been prisoners of war. In 1519
he escaped from prison, and after a short stay in Lubeck
found his way to Dalecarlia, where ho went about in
disguise among the peasantry, urging them to combine
against the common enemy. At first they were afraid to
act with him, but their hesitation vanished when they
heard of the blood-bath in Stockholm, — a crime by which
Gustavus himself was more than ever embittered against
the Danes, for his father was one of Christian II. 'a
victims. A force raised by Archbishop Trolle having
been defeated, Gustavus led his troops beyond the limits
of Dalecarlia and took Vesteras and Upsala, and laid
siege to Stockholm and Calmar. These fortresses were
bravely defended, but in 1523, with the help of a fleet
sent to him by Lubeck, he succeeded in capturing them.
In 1521 he had been declared regent, and in 1523, before
the conquest of Stockholm and Calmar, he summoned at
Strengnas a diet which elected him to the throne. Soon
afterwards he made himself master of Finland, and he
annexed Scania, Halland, and Blekinge. The union had
how been brought to an end, and from this time Sweden
was always ruled by her own kings. Denmark and
Norway, however, remained subject to one crown until the
beginning of the 19th century
Gustavus Vasa was by far the greatest sovereign who
had up to this time ruled the Swedish people. Beiore he
was made king the doctrines of. Luther had been pro-
claimed in Sweden by the brothers Olaus and Laurentius
Petri ; and Gustavus, who listened attentively to their
teaching, became one of the most enthusiastic adherents
of the Reformation. He acted cautiously, however, and
resolutely opposed violent agitators. The majority of the
Swedes cordially accepted the new doctrines, and at a diet
held at Westeras in 1527 Gustavus received authority to
reorganize the church. This he did thoroughl}', making
it clear from the beginning that Protestant pastors would
never be permitted to wield the power which the Roman
priesthood had so often abused. The greater part of the
vast estates which had belonged to the Roman clergy he
confiscated and applied to the uses of the state. In his
secular policy he was as bold and successful as in his
dealings with the church. For centuries the independence
and arrogance of the great nobles had been the curse of
the Swedish people. Gustavus missed no opportunity of
limiting their influence. He compelled them to bear
their fair share of the public burdens, and secured for
himself faithful allies by obtaining for burghers and the
peasantry, who had lost almost all their political influence,
a recognized place in the diet, which was now summoned
more frequently and regularly than it had been for several
generations. Gustavus did everything ho could to encour-
age industry. For six years he fought with LUbeck in
order to. break the supremacy of the Hanseatic League,
and he concluded treaties of commerce with England and
the Netherlands. So many changes were effected in
Sweden in his time that several conspiracies were formed
against him, but he had little difficulty in overcoming his
enemies, for ho had tho confidence and affection of the
great mass of his subjects. In 1544 it was decided by
the diet that tho Swedish throne should cease to be
elective, and that it should be hereditary in tho family of
Gustavus.
When Gustavus died in 1560, his eldest son Eric be-
came king. Eric was foolish enough to go to war with
Frederick II. of Denmark for no bettor reason than that
tho latter, like Eric himself, claimed tho right to put
three crowns in his coat-of-arms. This war, which lasted
seven years, caused much suffering to both nations. The
Danes were generally beaten at sea, but under tho leader-
ship of the stout soldier Daniel Rantzau they gained
inijiortant victories on land. Intellectually Eric was one
of tho most cultivated of Swedish kings, but in action he
was so headstrong and wayward that most people believed
him to be insane. Ho wasted the treasure amassed bv
748
SWEDEN
[histoey.'
his father, and under the influence of passion and suspicion
caused the death of many powerful and loyal subjects.
In 1568 his brothers John and Charles rebelled against
him. His favourite, Goran Persson, who was accused of
having constantly misled him, was seized and executed,
and Eric himself was obliged to surrender. He was
deprived of the crown and kept in close confinement until
1577, when he was murdered.
John mounted the throne as John IIL (1568-1592).
In 1570 the war between Sweden and Denmark was
brought to an end by the peace of Stettin. Sweden
obtained some advantages by this treaty, but she had to
resign to Denmark her claims to the island of Gotland,
and to Scania, Halland, and Blekinge. Throngh the
influence of his first wife Catherine, sister of King Sigis-
mund II. of Polandj John had become a Catholic ; and as
king he laboured to restore as far as possible the old
religious forms. His efEorts were bitterly resented by the
Protestants, while at Kome he was condemned for not
acting with suflScient decision in the interest of his chiurch.
Bigis- He was succeeded by his son Sigismund, who had been
f^oiid. elected king of Poland in 15S7. In the interval between
John's death and Sigismund's arrival in Sweden supreme
power was exercised by Duke Charles, Sigismund's uncle.
Charles, the ablest of all the sons of Gustavus Vasa,
resolved to take advantage of the opportunity to place the
ecclesiastical system of the country on a satisfactory basis.
Accordingly a great assembly was summoned at Upsala
in 1593, and by this assembly it was decreed that the
Augsburg confession of faith -should be accepted as the
authoritative statement of the theological doctrines of the
Swedish church. The decision was of vast importance,
and the Swedes have ever since looked back upon it as
)one that marked an era in their national history.
Before his coronation in 1594 Sigismund undertook to
protect the rights of his Protestant subjects ; but, being
. an ardent Catholic, he soon began to work for the triumph
of his own creed. On his return to Poland the discontent
he had excited in Sweden found free expression, and he
"was obliged to place the administration of affairs in the
hands of his uncle, Duke Charles. In the time of King
John a dispute about frontiers had led to war between
Sweden and Russia, and this war was still going on when
Charles undertook his new duties. In 1595 he concluded
■ peace, securing for Sweden the provinces of Esthonia and
ifarva, but yielding to Eussia some districts on the borders
of Finland. These districts were held by Klas Fleming,
ftn enthusiastic adherent of King Sigismund, and he
declined to give them up, nor were they surrendered until
the death of this general in 1597. MeanwhUe Charles
had found that some member.s of the council of state were
bent on thwarting all his schemes, and from them he
appealed to the diet. The diet heartily supported him,
and appointed him governor-general of Sweden ; where-
upon he set to work in earnest to put down Catholic
intriguers, and to promote the interests of the peasantry
in opposition to those of the great nobles. In 1598 Sigis-
mund advanced against him with a Polish army, and was
defeated at Stangebro, near Linkoping. The war went
on for some time, but Sigismund himself returned to
Poland. In 1600 the diet demanded that he should
reside in Sweden or send his son to be educated as a Pro-
testant. • No answer being returned to these demands,
Sigismund was dethroned, and his heirs were deprived of
the right of succession. Duke Charles was then made
king, and reigned as Charles IX. Sigismund continued
to regard himself as the lawful sovereign, and as the same
pretension was made by his descendants, a very bitter
feeling sprang up between Sweden and Poland, — a feeling
vhich led to many wars during the next sixty years. I
Charles IX. (1600-1611'; carried on with splendid
vigour the work which had been begun by his father
Gustavus Vasa. Under his rule Sweden became a
thoroughly Protestant country, and for the first time
associated herself to some extent with the general Pro-
testant movement in other lands. Charles watched with
especial interest the action of religious parties in Germany,
and carefully maintained good relations with the leading
German Protestant princes. At home one of his principal
aims was to force the aristocracy to be subservient to the
crown, and he succeeded as no Swedish king had done
before him. For burghers and the peasantry he secured
in the diet a more important and more clearly defined
place than had formerly belonged to them, and he devised
many sagacious measures for the material welfare of his
people. He devoted much attention to the development
of mining industries, and by the founding of convenient
seaports he gave a great impetus to trade. In foreign
relations he was not less masterful than in his manage-
ment of domestic affairs. In 1609 he sent an army into
Russia to oppose the false Demetrius, whose pretensions
to the Russian throne were supported by Poland. The
Swedish generals, after having achieved some success,
were obliged to retreat in consequence of a mutiny among
their troops ; but Charles despatched a fresh force, which
did its work so well that the Russians came to terms,
and even promised to accept his younger son, Charles
Philip, as czar. In the last year of his life Charles was
engaged in a war with Christian IV. of Denmark, who
invaded Sweden because Charles claimed to be king of
the Norwegian Laplanders and sought to exclude the
Danes from the extensive trade with Riga. Calmar,
notwithstanding the strenuous exertions of Charles,
was captured by the Danes, and from this circumstance
the struggle came to be known as the Calmar War.
Charles IX. was succeeded by his son Gustavus
Adolphus (1611-1632), the most illustrious- of the kings
of Sweden. He was only seventeen years of age when ho
became king, but he had already given evidence of high
intellectual and moral qualities. One of his first public
acts was to appoint as chancellor the youngest of his
counsellors. Axel Osenstjerna, a great statesman whose
name is intimately associated with all the most prominent
events of his reign. By mingled gentleness and firmness
Gustavus won almost immediately the goodwill of his
subjects, and before he was many years' on the throne he
became the object of their most enthusiastic devotion.
He showed unfailing respect for the rights of the diet,
improved its organization, and summoned it regularly once
a year. Industry and trade flourished under his wise rule,
and he did much to develop the educational system of
Sweden by giving splendid endowments to the university
of Upsala and by founding the university of Dorpat and
many schools and colleges. He introduced into the army
a rigid system of discipline, yet he was adored by his
soldiers, who had perfect faith in his military genius and
were touched by his care for their welfare and by the
cheerfulness with which, when necessary, he shared their
hardships.
The war with Denmark which had been begun in his
father's time he was obliffed to continue, but he did so
very unwillingly, and as soon as possible (in 1613) he
signed a treaty of peace, by which, in return for the pay-
ment of a million thalers, Sweden received back all the
territory that had been conquered by the Danes. Having
no further cause of anxiety in this direction, he prosecuted
with renewed vigour the war with the Russians, who had
not kept their promise to recognize Prince Charles Philip
as czar. The Swedish general, Count de la Gardie, had
gained many advantages in the struggle, and when
1568-1660.]
SWEDEN
749
Gustavus himself took part in it the Swedes were so
successful that in 1G17 the czar Michael was glad to
conclude the peace of Stolbova, giving up Kexholm,
Carelia, and Ingermanland, and confirming Sweden in the
possession of Esthonia and Livonia. The next task oi
Gustavus was to subdue Sigismund of Poland, who had
formally renewed his claim to the crown of Sweden after
Charles IX. 's death, and had proved himself one of the
most troublesome of the young Swedish king's enemies.
In 1621 Gustavus took the field against him, and achieved
a series of brilliant successes, which were interrupted only
■when, in 1629, Austria sent to the aid of Poland a force
of 10,000 men under Arnheim.
Meanwhile the Thirty Years' War, begun in 1618, had
been raging in Germany. Christian FV. of Denmark, who
.ad intervened on behalf of the Protestants, had been
forced to lay down his arms ; and it seemed in the highest
degree probable that the Catholic reaction, headed by the
fanatical emperor Ferdinand II., was about to be com-
pletely triumphant. Gustavus, like his father and grand-
father, was an enthusiastic Protestant, and he had watched
with grief and dismay the misfortunes of those who were
struggling for the right of free judgment in religion. At
last he resolved to give them the support they so urgently
needed, and, in order that he might without unnecessary
dejay act upon his decision, he arranged with Poland in
1629 that there should be an armistice for six years. He
then began to make preparations for his great enterprise,
and in 1630 he embarked for Germany with an army of
15,000 men. In undertaking this splendid task he was
not influenced only by religious motives. He wished to
punish the Austrians for having helped the Poles ; he
hoped to find an opportunity of adding to Swedish
territory ; and there are reasons for supposing that he
dreamed of snatching the imperial crown from the Haps-
burg dynasty and placing it on his own hea^I. But all the
evidence we possess goes to show that these objects were
subordinate. His principal aim was to save Protestantism
in Germany from extinction.
He had many unexpected difl5culties to contend with,
for he was distrusted by most of the German Protestant
princ§3. Very soon, however, his tact and courage
enabled him to overcome every obstacle, and at Breitenfeld
he gained a decisive victory over the imperial general
Tilly. After this great success the confidence of the
German Protestants revived, and Gustavus was everywhere
received as their deliverer. Tilly tried to prevent him
from crcssing the Lech, but was again defeated ; and the
Swedish king took possession of Munich, having already
held court at Frankfort. For some time the destinies of
the empire appeared to bo at his disposal, but all the
hopes excited by his heroic career were suddenly cut short
by his death in the battle of Lutzen in 1632.
tin*. Gustavus was succeeded by his daughter Christina,
whom, before his departure for Germany, he had presented
, to the diet as heiress to the crown. During her minority
Sweden was governed by five nobles whom the diet
appointed to be her guardians, the foremost place being
given to Axel Oxenstjerna. They continued the foreign
poliey of Gustavus, maintaining in Germany a powerful
army, which, although no longer uniformly successful,
gained many victories over the imperial forces. Christina,
carefully educated in accordance with instructions left by
her father, became one of the most cultivated women of
the 17th century; and at an early age she astonished her
guardians by the vigour of her understanding. In 1641,
on her eighteenth birthday, she assumed supremo power,
and for some time she fulfilled all the expectations wliich
had been formed as to her Veign. In 1645 she brought to
an end a war with Denmark which had been begun two
years before. The Danes had been repeatedly defeated,
and by the treaty of Cnimsebro they resigned to Sweden
Jcmtland and Harjeaadalen along with the islands of
Gotland and Oesel, and gave up Halland for a period of
twenty-five years. Contrary to the advice of Oxenstjerna,
Christina pressed for the conclusion of peace in Germany,
and, when her object was attained, the Swedes had no
reason to be dissatisfied with the result. By the peace of
Westphalia, concluded in 1648, Sweden obtained the
duchies of Bremen, V^erden, and Western Pomerania, a
part of Eastern Pomerania, and Wismar. Moreover,
Sweden w;as recognized as a state of the empire.
The Swedish people were anxious that Christina should
marry, but she declined to sacrifice her independence. In
1649, however, she persuaded the diet to accept as her
successor the best of her suitors, her cousin Charles
Gustavus of Pfalz-Zweibriicken, the son of the only sister
of Gustavus Adolphus. In the following year she was
crowned with great pompi About this time her character
seemed to undergo a remarkable change. She became
wayward and restless, neglected her tried counsellors, and
followed the advice of self-seeking favourites. So much
discontent was aroused by her extravagance and fickleness
that she at last announced her determination to abdicate,
and she abandoned her purpose only in deference to
Oxenstjerna's entreaties. She now devoted herself to her
duties with renewed ardour, and made her court famous
by inviting to it Descartes, Grotius, Salmasius, and other
scholars and philosophers. But she had soon to encounter
fresh difliculties. During the Thirty Years' War the
influence of the nobles had been greatly increased, partly
in consequence of their position in the army, partly
through the wealth they acquired in Germany. They
made as usual so bad a use of their power that an
agitation which seemed likely to have most serious conse-
quences sprang up against them among the peasants, the
burghers, and the clergy. Unable to bring order out of
the prevailing confusion, and longing for repose, Christina
finally resolved to resign the crown; and in 1654 she
formally laid the royal insignia before the diet in order
that they might be transferred to Charles Gustavus, who Charles
forthwith became king as Charles X. Christina imme- X.
diately left the country, and did not return to it for many
years. She ultimately made some attempts to recover
the crown, as well as to be elected queen of Poland, but
her efforts were not successful. She joined the Roman
Church, and there was much talk at all the courts in
Europe about the eccentricities of her character and about
her passionate love of art and learning.
Charles X (1654-1660) devoted his energies chiefly to
war, in which he was brilliantly successful. He began
his military career by attacking Poland, whose king claimed
to be the true heir to the Swedish crown. In a great battle
at AVarsaw Charles destroyed the Polish army, and Poland
would probably soon have been absolutely at his mercy
but for the intervention of Russia, which sought to weaken
him by invading Esthonia and Livonia. While the war
with Poland and Russia was in progress, Charles became
involved in a struggle with Denmark, and he conducted
it so vigorously and skilfully that tlio Danes, by the jieaco
of Roeskilde, signed in 1 6.^)8, gave up Scania, Halland,
Blckinge, and various other territories. War with Denmark
was several times renewed, and at the time of his death
Charles was engaged in making extensive preparations for
a fresh onslaught.
Ho was succeeded by his son Charles XI., a child of
four year.) of age. During the minority of Charles XI.
the government was carried on by his mother lledwig
Eleonore and by the chancellor Do la Gardie and four
othei' ministers. In 1660 they concluded with Poland the
750
SWEDEN
[histoey.
peace of Oliva, whereby Sweden received the whole of
Livonia as far as the Diina. Soon afterwards peace was
also concluded with Denmark and Russia, the former
receiving back Drontheim and Bornholm, which had
been taken by ChaVles X. Sweden, however, kept Scania,
Halland, and Blekinge, which were now finally severed
from the Danish monarchy. In 1672 Charles XI. him-
self assumed the direction of affairs. For some time he
seemed to take little interest in public business, and in
1674 he was rash enough to send an army into Germany
to aid Louis XIV. in his war with the United Provinces
and their allies. The Swedes were defeated at Fehrbellin
by the elector of Brandenburg, who at once followed up
his victory by taking possession of Pomerania. Christian
V. of Denmark, thinking he had now a good opportunity
of recovering Scania, joined the enemies of France and
Sweden, and at sea the Danes gained several great
victories over the Swedes. Charles XL, aroused by these
disasters, began to show the real vigour of his character.
He placed himself at the head of his army, and in several
battles so decisively defeated the Danes that they were
driven from Scania, the greater part of which they had
occupied. When peace was made in 1679, Sweden had to
gi\"€ up to Brandenburg a part of Pomerania, but she
sustained no other losses.
At this time the finances of Sweden were in utter
confusion, and the revenue was not nearly large enough to
cover the necessary expenditure. So many of the crown
lands had from time to time been given away to nobles
that the administration could not be carried on without a
system of crushing taxation. The common people, unable
to bear the burdens imposed upon them, had often insisted
that these lands should be taken back. Charles XL
became convinced that. there was no other Way out of his
difficulties, and in 1680, with the sanction of the diet, he
ordered that the fourth part of all the crown lands which
had been given away during the previous thirty years
should be restored. This, however, was only the begin-
ning of the so-called process of reduction, which was soon
extended and carried out ivith ruthless severity. By this
measure some of the foremost families in Sweden were
ruined, and the crown was made almost independent of
the diet, for it recovered no fewer than ten counties,
seventy baronies, and many smaller estates. Charles
became virtually an absolute sovereign, and on the whole
he made an excellent use of his power. For more than a
century Sweden had been almost constantly engaged in
war. She now enjoyed a period of repose, and profited
greatly by the king's vigorous administration. He built
fortresses, reorganized the army and navy, and carried on
many important pubHc works in the interests of commerce.
He also founded- the university of Lund, and made larger
provision for popular education, frequently impressing
upon the clergy the duty of attending to the intellectual
needs of their parishioners. His comparatively early
death was lamented by the great majority of the people,
who were grateful for the steady determination with which .
he applied himself to the duties of his office.
Charles XL was succeeded by his son Charles XII.
(1697-1718), the most brilliant although not the greatest
figure in Swedish history. He was a youth of fifteen
when his father died, and he was so enthusiastically
devoted to sport and all kinds of physical exercise that
he seemed to be utterly destitute of political ambition.
'Accordingly Augustus II. of Poland and Saxony, Peter I.
of Russia, and Frederick IV. of Denmark, thinking the
time had come for the recovery of the possessions taken
from their predecessors by Sweden, formed an alliance
against him, and they appear to have had no doubt that
he would be easily overcome. Charles XII., however, was
in reality a man of extraordinary vigour and daring, and
he soon convinced his enemies that they would find in
him a formidable opponent. In 1700 he began what
is known as the Northern War by suddenly advancing
against Copenhagen, which he was about to besiege when
Frederick, alarmed by the overwhelming numbers of the
enemy, accepted Charles's terras, and signed the peace of
Travendahl. Charles at once crossed the Baltic to attack
Augustus II. and Peter I., the former of whom was
besieging Riga, while the latter threatened Narva. At
Narva the Swedish king gained a splendid victory, and
afterwards he defeated the Saxons, driving them away
from Riga. If he had now concluded, peace, he" might
have been for many years by far the greatest potentate
in northern Europe. But he was resolved to humiliate
Augustus n., and this he did most effectually. Defeated
at Klissoff, Augustus was held to have forfeited the
throne of Poland, and at Charles's suggestion Stanislaus
Leczinski was elected king. Charles followed Augustus
into Saxony, and in 1706 forced him to conclude the
treaty of Altranstadt. Meanwhile Peter I. had been
taking possession of Swedish territory on the Baltic, and
on a portion of it had begun to build St Petersburg.
Instead of attacking him directly, Charles resolved to
thwart him by seizing Moscow, and this decision proved
fatal to his great designs. Worn out by a long and dreary
march, during which many soldiers died of hunger and
disease, his dispirited army was defeated at Poltava (1709);
and Charles, ignorant of the real condition of the enemy's
forces, fled across the Russian frontier into Turkey. He
remained five years in the Turkish dominions, trying to
induce the sultan to become his ally. But, although war
did break out between Russia and Turkey, the Turks had
little confidence in Charles, for it was supposed that he
wished to become king of Poland, and the sultan suspected
that if this scheme were effected he might become a
dangerous enemy of the Ottoman empire. Convinced at
last that nothing was to be gained from Turkey, Charles
made his escape, and in fourteen days rode from Adrian-
ople to StraLsund. In his absence the war had been
continued by Peter I., who had soon been joined again
by Augustus II. and Frederick IV. ; and ultimately the
alliance was strengthened by the accession of the king of
Prussia and the elector of Hanover, each of whom was
eager to possess those Swedish territories which were in
the neighbourhood of his own dominions. In Stralsund,
which was besieged by an army of Danes, Saxons,
Prussians, and Russians, Charles displayed astonishing
valour and military skill, but about a year after his arrival
the town was obliged to surrender. He then went to
Lund, adopted vigorous measures for the defence of the
Swedish coasts, and attacked Norway. By the advice of
his friend Baron Gortz he entered into negotiations with
Peter I., who was not unwilling to come to terms. Had
Charles lived, it is possible that the tide of misfortune
might have turned, but he was shot dead while engaged
in besieging Frederikshall. His intention was to conquer
Norway after having made peace with Russia, and from
Norway to cross to Great Britain, where he hoped to
punish the elector of Hanover by placing the Pretender on
tlie English throne.
All the conditions of political life in Sweden were now
changed. The Swedish people were surrounded by a
crowd of enemies whom they could not hope to overcome,
and in the confusion caused by the Northern War the
nobles had recovered their ancient power. As Charles
XII. had no children, it was doubtful whether the crown
should pass to his younger sister Ulrica Eleonore or to
Charles Frederick of Holstein-Gottorp, the son of his elder
sister Hedvig Sophia. The nobles decided in favour of
1C60-1790.]
SWEDEN
761
ITiriea Eleonore, who secured their support by undertak-
ing to place all real power in their hands. In 1720 her
authority was transferred to her husband. Prince Frederick
of Hesse, who reigned as Frederick I. until his death in
1751. He reigned, however, only in name, for the diet,
■which now practically meant the nobles, -usurped every
important prerogative of the crown. Ther.e were two
parties, known as the Hats and the Caps, who assailed
one another with much vehemence ; but on one point
they were agreed, and that was that the Swedish people
should in future be ruled, not by a king, or by a king
'acting in conjunction with the diet, but by the aristocracy.
Meanwhile Sweden had been .shorn of most of the
foreign territory for which in past times she had made so
many sacrifices. In 1719 she had given up Bremen and
Verden to Hanover; in 1720 Stettin and Western Pomer-
ania as far as the Peene were resigned to Prussia ; and in
1721 Russia obtained Livonia, Ebthonia, Ingermanland,
and a part of Viborg Ian. In 1741, against the wish of
King Frederick, the Hats plunged into a war with Russia ;
and the consequence was that in 1743 Sweden had to
conclude the degrading peace of "Abo, by which she lost
Eastern Finland. She had even to beg Russia to aid her
against Denmark, and she was obliged to recognize Adol-
phus Frederick of Holstein-Gottorp, a relative of the
czarina Elizabeth, as heir to the throne.
From the reign of Charles IX. until that of Charles
XIL Sweden had been 01.0 of the greatest powers in
Europe. She had conducted many wars successfully ; she
had secured a vast territory beyond her proper limits ;' in
the crisis of the struggle between Catholicism and Pro-
testantism she had lent powerful support to those who
■were lighting for spiritual freet' irti. In the management
of international relations dudng this period no great
decision was arrived at by any European state without
reference to her wishes, and there seemed to be solid
reasons for the belief that her power would be enduring.
[Yet she suddenly sank from her high position to that of a
third-rate state, which exercised little or no influence on
■the aftairs of the rest of the world. This striking change
■was immediately due to the calamities brought upon his
country by Charles XII., but sooner or later it would
have come even if he had never lived. The circumstances
of Europe were in his time very different from those with
(which Gustavus Adolphus had to deal. Russia had
emerged as a' united and growing state; Prmssia had
begun to display some of the qualities which were ulti-
mately to make her supreme in Germany ; and Hanover
had been made important by the accession of the house of
Brunswick to the throne of Great Britain. Sweden could
not have permanently maintained her conquests against
these new political forces. Charles XIL, by his bold but
headstrong policy, only hastened a process which was. in
any case inevitable.
Under Adolphus Frederick (1751-1771) Swedep took
part in the Seven Years' 'War, siding with the enemies of
Frederick the Great. But she was now so feeble, and her
itatesmen were so incompetent, that her intervention led
to no seriotxs results.' The Hats, who were responsible
for the humiliation brought upon Sweden by this exhibi-
tion of her weakness, had to make way for the Caps ; but
neither party had the power or the will to arouse the
nation. from the lethargy into which it had fallen. Gus-
tavus IIL, Adolphus Frede^ick'.^ son (1771-1792), was a
njan of a very different temper from his indolent father.
He had great energy of character, a thorough comprehen-
sion of some of the conditions of political progress, and a
frank and persuasive -manner. In early youth ho seems
to have convinced himself that it would bo impossible for
pwedea to become a prosperous country unless the royal
authority were restored, and when at the age o{ twenty-
five he succeeded his father he secretly resolved to make
the crown supreme.
He carried out his plans with remarkable ability and
caution. Under the pretence that he wished to introduce
a new system of military manoeuvres, he collected around
him about two hundred officers, most of whom were
young men, and they were gradually, induced to pledge
themselves to support him. Agents were despatched to
win over the regiments in the provinces, and Gustavus
was careful to make a good impression on the burgher
class and on the peasantry. When all was ready, the
commandant of Christianstad, on the 12th of August
1772, as previously arranged, formally renounced his
allegiance to the diet, and one of the king's brothers went
to the town with the regiments in the neighbourhood and
pretended to besiege it. Suspicions were aroused- at
Stockholm, and at a meeting of the councdof state Gus-
tavus was bitterly reproached by some of the members.
He then boldly proclaimed his purpose. The members of
the council of state were arrested, and the king received
the homage of the leading authorities in the military,
naval, and civil services. The diet was forthwith sum-
moned, and at its first sitting Gustavus spoke of the
lamentable condition of the kingdom, and of the nged for
more efficient methods of government. He had no wish,
he' said, to establish an absolute monarchy, but it was
necessary that the supremacy of the aristocracy should be
destroyed, and that the country should re-establish the
system which existed in the time of Gustavus Adolphus,
when the crown and the diet had each its separate func-
tions and worked cordially together. A new constitution,
which had been drawn up, placing executive power wholly
in the king's hands, was afterwards, read, and at once
accepted.
Delivered from the trammels which had hampered his
immediate predecessors, Gustavus worked hard for the
welfare of his subjects. Agriculture, industry, and trade
revived ; the army and navy were improved ; and the
educated classes began to show greater interest in art,
literature, and science. Unfortunately the king took the
court of France as the model for his own court, and the
country resented the incessant demands for money which
were rendered necessary by his personal extravagance.
In 1788 he declared war with Russia, hoping to recover
Livonia and the part of Finland which Russia had con-
quered ; and the discontent he had aroused found expres-
sion in the army, the leaders of which declined to fight,
protesting that the way ought "not to have been begun
without the sanction of the diet. At tho .same time Den-
mark was persuaded by the czarina Catherine to attack
Sweden. Gustavus seemed to be on the verge of ruin,
I.iut he was saved by his own courage and sagacity.
Hastening back from Finland, he was able to rescue
Gothenburg from the Danes with a force raised in Dale-
carlia, and soon afterwards, through the intervention of
England find Prussia, Denmark was induced to withdraw
from the struggle. The majority of the diet, seeing the
dangers to which tho nation was exposed, rallied around
the king, and, notwithstanding the opposition of the
nobles, recognized the right of the crown to declare war.
Impressed by the firm and rapid action of Gustavus, the
army returned to its allegiance, and tho conflict with
Russia was begun in earnest. In 1789 tho Swedes wcrs
very unsuccessful, but in tho following year they gained
several victories both at sea and on land. Gustavus saw,
however, that it would bo impossibld for him to west
from Russia any of her territories, and in 1790 poaoLi wof
concluded on the understanding that both states should
occupy tho position they held before the war.
752
SWEDEN
LHISTOHY.
, Gustavus was greatly excited by the French Revolution,
and sought to form an alliance with Russia, Prussia, and
Austria for the restoration of Louis XVI. But the diet
refused to support his wild schemes. Several nobles,
desiring to avenge the supposed wrongs of their order,
entered into a conspiracy against him, and in 1792 he was
rnortally wounded by an assassin who acted as their agent.
Grustavus IV. (1792-1809) was not quite fourteen
years old when his father was murdered, and during his
minority the government was carried on by his uncle the
duke of Sodermanland. Gustavus began to exercise royal
authority in 1796. His reign was remarkable chiefly for
the obstinacy with which he clung to his own ideas, no
matter how far they might conflict with the obvious
interests of his country. He had a bitter detestation of
Bonaparte, and in 1803 went to Carlsruhe in the hope
that he might induce the emperor and some of the German
princes to act with him in support of the Bourbons. His
enmity led to an open rupture with France, and even
after the peace of Tilsit, when Russia and Prussia offered
to mediate between him and the French emperor, he
refused to come to terms. The consequence was that he
lost Stralsund and the island of Riigen. He displayed
so much friendship for England that Russia and Denmark,
acting under the influence of France, declared war against
him; and the whole of Finland was soon held by Russian
troops. Gustavus attacked Norway, but his army was
driven back by the Danes and Norwegians. He still
declined to make peace, and he even alienated England
when she attempted to influence him by moderate counsels.
The Swedish people were so enraged by the consequences
of his policy that in 1809 he was dethroned, and the
claims of his descendants to the crown were also repudi-
ated. He was succeeded by the duke of Sodermanland,
who reigned as Charles XIII.
Charles Charles XIII. (1809-1818) concluded peace with
Russia, Denmark, and France, ceding to Russia by the
treaty of Frederikshamm .(1809) the whole of Finland.
The loss of this territory, which had been so long associ-
ated with the Swedish monarchy, was bitterly deplored by
the Swedes, but it was universally admitted that under
the circumstances the sacrifice was unavoidable. Charles
assented to important changes in the constitution, which
were intended to bring to an end the struggle between
the crown and the aristocracy and to provide some security
for the niflintenance of popular rights. The king was
still to be at the head of the executive, but it was arranged
that legislative functions and control over taxation should
belong to the diet, which was to consist of four orders —
nobles, clergymen, burghers, and peasants.
As Charles XIII. was childless, the diet, elected as his
successor Prince Christian Augustus of Holstein-Sonder-
burg-Augustenburg. In 181 0, soon after his arrival in
Stockholm, this prince suddenly died ; and Sweden aston-
ished Europe by asking Marshal Bernadotte to become
heir to the throne. Bernadotte, who took the name of
Charles John, was a man of great vigour and resource,
and soon made himself the real ruler of Sweden. Napoleon
treated Sweden as almost a conquered country, and com-
pelled her to declare war with England. Bernadotte,
associating himself, heartily with his adopted land, resolved
to secure its independence, and entered into an alliance
with Russia. In 1813 he started with dn army of 20,000
Swedes to co-operate with the powers which were striving
finally to crush the French emperor. The proceedings of
the Swedish crown prince were watched with some suspicion
by the allies, as he was evidently unwilling to strike a
decisive blow at France ; but after the battle of Leipsic
he displayed much activity. He blockaded Hamburg,
and by the peace of Kiel, concluded in January 1814, he
XIII
forced Denmark to give up Norway. He then entered
France, but soon returned, and devoted his energies to the
conquest of Norway, which was very unwilling to be
united with Sweden. Between the months of July and
November 1814 the country was completely subdued, and
Charles XIII. was proclaimed king. The union of Sweden
and Norway, which has ever since been maintained, was
recognized by the congress of Vienna ; and it was placed
on a sound basis by the frari adoption of the principle
that, while the two countries should be subject to the
same crown and act together in matters of common
interest, each should have complete control over its
internal affairs. The new relation of their country to
Norway gave much .satisfaction to the Swedes, whom it
consoled in some measure for the loss of Finland. It also
made it easy for them to transfer to Prussia in 1815 what
remained of their Pomeranian territories.
In 1818 Bernadotte mounted the throne as Charles Cliarla
XIV., and he reigned until he died in 1814. Great XIV.
material improvements were effected during his reign.
He caused new roads and canals to be constructed ; he
encouraged the cultivation of districts which had formerly
been barren ; and he founded good industrial and naval
schools. He was not, however, much liked by his subjects.'
He never mastered the Swedish language, and he w?.s so
jealous of any interference with his authority tb?t he
sternly puni.^hed the expression of opinions which he dis-
liked. To the majority of educated Swedes the ccr.Etitu-
tion seemed to be ill-adapted to the wants of the nation,;
and there was a general demand for a political syctem
which should make the Government more directly respon-:
sible to the people. In 1840 a scheme of reform wasi
submitted to the diet by a committee which had been
appointed for the purpose, but the negotiations and di*.'
cussions to which it gave rise led to no definite result.
Charles XIV. was succeeded by his son Oscar I. (1844- Owa^
1'859). Oscar had always expressed sympathy with liberal
opinions, and it was anticipated that the constitutional
question would be settled during his reign without much
ditficulty. These expectations were disappointed. The
diet met soon after his accession, and was asked to accept
the scheme which had been drawn up in 1840. The
measure received the cordial approval of the burghers and
peasants, but was rejected by the nobles ancl the clergy.
In 1846 a committee was appointed to prepare a new set
of proposals, and late in the following year the discussion
of its plans began. While the debates on the subject
were proceeding some excitement was produced by the
revolutionary movement of 1848, and a new ministry,
pledged to the cause of reform, came into office. The
scheme devised by this ministry was accepted by the
committee to which it was referred, but the provisions of
the existing constitution rendered it necessary that the
final settlement should depend upon the vote of the next
diet. 'When the diet met in 1850 it was found that the
difficulties in the way were for the time insuperable.
The proposals of the Government were approved by a
majority of the burghers, but they were opposed by the
nobles, the clergy, and the peasantry. The solution o6
the problem had, therefore, to be indefinitely postponed.
Although the constitution was not reformed, rtiuch was
done in other ways during the reign of Oscar I. to pro-
mote the national welfare. The criminal law was brought
into accordance with modern ideas, and the law of inherit-
ance was made the same for both sexes and for all classes
of the community. Increased freedom was secured for
industry and trade ; the methods of administration were
improved ; and the state took great pains to provide the
country with an efficient railway system. The result of
the wise legislation of this period was that a new spirit of
LITEKATURK.]
S ^V E D E N
753
enterprise was displayed by the commercial classes, and
that in material prosperity the people made sure and
rapid progress.
In 1848, when the difficulty about Schleswig-Holstein
led to war between Denmark and Germany, the Swedes
sympathized cordially with the Danes, of whom they bad
for a long time ceased to be in the slightest degree jealous.
Swedish troops were landed in Fiinen, and through the
influence of the Swedish Government an armistice was
concluded at IMalmo. The excitement in favour of Den-
mark soon died out, and when the war was resumed in
1849 Sweden resolutely declined to take part in it. The
outbreak of the Crimean War greatly alarmed the Swedes,
■who feared that they might in some way be dragged into
the conflict. In 1855, having some reason to complain of
Russian acts of aggression on his northern frontiers, the
king of Sweden and Norway concluded a treaty with
England and France, pledging himself not to cede terri-
tory to Russia, and receiving from the Western powers a
promise of help in the event of his being attacked. The
demands based on this treaty were readily granted by
Russia in the peace of Paris in 1856.
larles Charles XV. (1859-1872) mounted the throne after
'• his father's death. Nearly two years before his accession
he had been made regent in consequence of Oscar I.'s ill-
health. Charles was a man of considerable intellectual
ability and of decidedly popular sympathies, and during
his reign the Swedish people became enthusiastically loyal
to his dynasty. In I860 two estates of the realm — the
peasants and the burghers — presented petitions, begging
him to submit to the diet a scheme for the reform of the
constitution. This request he willingly granted. The
main provisions of the plan offered in his name were that
the diet should consist of two chambers, — the first chamber
to be elected for a term of nine years by the provincial
assemblies and by the municipal corporations of towns not
represented in those assemblies, the second chamber to be
elected for a term of three years by all natives of Sweden
possessing a specified proiierty qualification. The execu-
tive power was to belong to the king, who was to act
under the advice of a council of state responsible to the
national representatives. This plan, which was received
with general satisfaction, was finally adopted by the diet
in 1866, and is still in force.
Early in the reign of Charles XV. there were serious
disputes between Sweden and Norway, and the union of
the two countries could scarcely have been maintained but
for the tact and good sense of the king. He also exercised
a steadying influence in 1863, when his people expressed
passionate sympathy with the Poles in their insurrection
against Russia, and with the Danes in their war with
Prussia and Austria,
car U Charles XV, died in 1872, and was succeeded by his
brother Oscar II., who still reigns (1887). Under him
Sweden has maintained good relations with all foreign
powers, and political disputes in the diet have never been
serious enough to interrupt the material progress of the
nation.
Many documents relating to Swedish history have been published
in Scriptores llcrum Succicarnrii Mcdii Aivi, edited by Fant, Gcijcr,
and Schroder, in Scriploixs Succici Mcdii /livi, edited by Rietz, and
in other collections. Amonp the older histories of Sweden may
bo named those by Dalin and Lagerbring in the 18th century and
by Riihs in the 19th. More important works on tho sulijcct are
those by Gcijcr, Carlson, Fryxoll, and Strinnholm. (J. SI.)
Pajit in. — Literatctre.
Swedish literature, as distinguished from compositions
iri tho common norrmna tunr/a of old Scandinavia, cannot
be said to exist earlier than tho 1.3th century. Nor until
the period of the Reformation was its dovclopmout in
any degree rapid or copious. The oldest form in which
Swedish ' exists as a written language is the series ol
manuscripts known as LfiiidshtpKiac/irne, or "The Com-
mon Laws." These are supposed to be the relics of o
still earlier ago, and it is hardly believed that we even
possess the first that was put down in writing. The most
important and the most ancient of these codes is the
" Elder West Guta Law," reduced to its present form by
the law-man Eskil about 1230. Another of great interest
is JIagnus Eriksson's " General Common Law," which was
written in 1347. These ancient codes have been collected
and edited by Prof. Schlyter. The chief ornament of
medieval Swedish literature is Um Styrilse Kunvnga ok
llufdinya ("On the Conduct of Kings and Princes"), first
printed, by command of Gustavus U. Adolphus, in 1634.
The writer is not known; it has been conjecturally dated
1325. It is a handbook of moral and political teaching,
expressed in terse and vigorous language. St Bridget, or
Birgitta (1302H373), an historical figure of extraordinary
interest, has left her name attached to several important
religious works, in particular to a collection of Uppen-
6(Tre/5C)' ("Revelations"), in which her visions and ecstatic
meditations are recorded, and a version, tho first into
Swedish, of the five books of Jloses. This latter was
undertaken, at her desire, by her father-confessor Mattias
(d. 1350), a priest at Linkoping. The translation of the
Bible was continued a century later by a monk named
Johannes Budde (d. 1481).
In verse the earliest Swedish productions were probably
the folk-songs. The age of these, however, has been
commonly exaggerated. It is doubtful whether any still
exist which are as old, in their present form, as the 13th
century. The bulk are now attributed to the 15th, and
many are doubtless much later still. The last, such as
"Axel och Valborg," " Liten Karin," " Kampen Grim-
borg," and " Habor och Signild," deal with tho adven-
tures of romantic mediieval romauce. Almost the only
positive clue we hold to the date of these poems is the
fact that oneof the most characteristic of them, "Engei-
brekt," was written by Tomas, bishop of Strenguiis, who
died in 1443. Tomas, who left other poetical pieces, is
usually called the first Swedish poet. There are three
rhyming chronicles in mediKval Swedish, all anonymous.
The earliest, ErikskriJnikan. is attributed to 1320; Karh-
kr'unikan is at least 120 years later; and the third,
Slttrekrbnikornn , was probably written about 1500. All
three have been edited by G. E. Klemming. The col-
lection of rhymed romances which bears tho name of
Queen .I^tcp/iemin's Souffs must have been written before
tho death of that lady in 1312. They arc believed to
date from 1303. They are versions of three niedia;val
stories taken from French and German sources, and they
deal respectively with King Arthur and tho Table liountl,
with Duke Frederick of Normandy, and with Florcs and
Blancheflor. They possess very slight poetic merit in
their Swedish form. A little later the romance of Jiiiiy
Alexander was translated by, or at the command of. Bo
Jonsson Grip ; this is more meritorious. A brilliant and
pathetic relic of the close of the medieval period exists in
tho Love Letters addressed in 1498 by Ingrid Pcrsdottcr,
a nun of Vadstcna, to the young knight Axel Nilsson.
The first book printed in the Swedish language appeared
in 1495.
Tho 16th century added but little to Swedish literature,
and that little is mostly connected with tho newly founded
university of Up.sala. The Rcnais.sanco scarcely made
itself felt in Scandinavia, and oven the Reformation failed
to waken the genius of tho country. Psalms and didactic
> For the Swedish language, ice SoandinatiaM Lahouaokb, voL x3i
pp. 370-372.
22—27
754
SWEDEN
I LITERATURE.
spiritual poems were the main products of Swedish letters
in the 16th century. Two writers, the brothers Petri,
take an easy prominence in so barren a period. Olaus
Petri (1497-1552) and Laurentius Petri (1409-1573)
were Carmelite monks who proceeded in 1516 to Witten-
berg to study theology under Luther, and who came back
to Sweden as the apostles of the new faith. Olaus, who
is one of the noblest figures in Swedish annals, was of the
executive rather than the meditative class. He found
time, however, to write a Chronicle, which is the
earliest prose history of Sweden, a mystery play, Tohie
Comedia, which is the first Swedish drama, and three
psalm-books, the best known being published in 1530
under the title of Nagre Gialhelic/e Yijsor ("Certain Divine
Songs"). Laurentius Petri, who was archbishop of all
Sweden, edited or superintended the translation of the
Bible published at Upsala in 1540. He also wrote many
psalms, Laurentius Andrea, who died in 1552, had
previously prepared a translation of the New Testament,
which appeared in 1526. He was a polemical writer of
prominence on the side of the Reformers. Finally, Petrus
Niger (Peder Svart), bishop of VesterSs (d. 1562), wrote
a chronicle of the life of Gustavus L up to 1533, in excel-
lent prose. The same writer left unpublished a history of
the bishops of Westerns his predecessors. The latter half
of the 16th century is a blank in Swedish literature.
With the accession of Charles IX. and the consequent
development of Swedish greatness, literature began to
assert itself in more vigorous forms. The long life of the
royal librarian, Johannes Burseus (1568-1652), formed a
link between the age of the Petri and that of Stjernhjelm.
Buraeus studied all the sciences then known to mankind,
and confounded them all in a sort of Rabbinical cultus
of his own invention, a universal philosophy in a multi-
tude of unreadable volumes.' But he was a patient anti-
quarian, and advanced the knowledge of ancient Scandi-
navian mythology and language very considerably. He
awakened curiosity and roused a public sympathy with
|letters ; nor was it without significance that two of the
greatest Swedes of the century, Gustavus Adolphus and
the poet Stjernhjelm, were his pupils. The reign of
Charles IX. saw the rise of secular drama in Sweden;
The first comedy was the Tisbe of Magnus Olai Astero-
pherus (d. 1647), a coarse but witty piece on the story of
Pyramus and Thisbe, acted by the schoolboys of the college
of Arboga in 1610. This play is the Ralph Roister
Doisler of Swedish literature. A greater dramatist
was Johannes Messenius (1579-1636), who, having been
discovered plotting against the Government during the
absence of Gustavus in Russia, was condemned to im-
prisonment for life — that is, for twenty years. Before
this disaster he had been professor in Upsala, where his
first historical comedy Disa was performed in 1611 and
the tragedy of Siffmll in 1612. The design of Messenius
was to write the history of his country in fifty plays ; he
completed " ancj produced six. These dramas are not
particularly well arranged, but they form a little body of
theatrical literature of singular interest and value. Mes-
senius was a genuine poet ; the lyrics he introduces have
something of the charm of the old ballads. He wrote
abundantly in prison ; his magnum opus was a history of
Sweden in Latin, but he has also left, in Swedish, two
important rhyme-chronicles. Messenius was imitated by
a. little crowd of playwrights. Nikolaus Catonius (d.
ZC55) wrote a fine tragedy on the Trojan War, Troijen-
horgh, ■ in which he excelled Messenius as a dramatist.
Andreas Prytz, who died in 1655 as bishop of Linkoping,
produced several religious chronicle plays from Swedish
history. Jacobus Rondeletius (d. 1662) wrote a curious
".Christian tragi-comedy " of Judas Redivivus. . These
■ plays were all acted by schoolboys and university youths,
and when they went out of fashion among these classes
the drama in Sweden almost entirely ceased to exist.
Two historians of the reign of Charles IX., Erik Goransson
Tegel (d. 1636) and A;gidius Girs (d. 1639), deserve
mention.
The reign of Gustavus Adolphus was adorned by one ?tjern
great writer, the most considerable in all the early history 'J'^l^o
of Sweden. The title of "the Father of Swedish Poetry''
has been universally awarded to Gijran Lilja, better known
by his adopted name of Georg Stjernhjelm (159S-1672),
This extraordinary man was born at \Vika in Dalecarlia
on the 7th of August 1^98. He took his degree at
Greifswald, and spent some years in travelling over
every quarter of Europe. On his return he attracted the!
notice of Gustavus Adolphus, who gave him a responsible
post at Dorpat in 1630, and raised him next year to thg
nobility. After the king's death Christina attached him,
as a kind of poet-laureate, to her court in Stockholm,
His property lay in Livonia, and when the Russians
plundered that province in 1656 the poet via.% reduced
to extreme poverty for two or three years. He died £El>
Brunkeborg in Stockholm on the 22d of April 1672.
Stjernhjelm was a man of almost universal attainment,
but it is mainly in verse that he has left his stamp upon
the literature of his country. He found thSi language
rough and halting, and he moulded it into perfect smooth-
ness and elasticity. His master Burseus had written a
few Swedish hexameters by way of experiment Stjern-
hjelm took the form and made it national. His greatest
poem, Hercules, is a didactic allegory in .hexaqjetersk
written in very musical verse, and with an almos, \)rientai
splendour of phrase and imagery. In its faults. as well aa
its beauties the style of Stjernhjelm reminds us ol that oi
his great Dutch contemporary Vondel He was certainly
influenced by a writer a few months older than" himself,
the German poet Martin Opitz. The Rercides, whTcb
deals with the familiar story of the dispute for the hero
between Duty and Pleasiire, was first printed, at Upsala,
in 1653, but was finished some years earlier. 'Brollop&-
Besvdrs Ihugkommelse, a sort of serio-comic epithalamium
in the same measure, is another very brilliant work of
Stjernhjelm. His masques. Then faqne Cupido ("Cupid
Caught") (1649), Freds-afl (" The Birth of Peace") (1649),
and Parnassus Triumphans (1651), were written for tW
entertainment of the queen, and have a charming IjTical
lightness. He can scarcely, however, be said to have beea
successful in his attempt, in the first two of these, to
introduce unrhymed song-measures. • Stjernhjelin^TX'as ao
active philologist, and left a great number of works or
language, of which only a few have ever been printed.
He wrote letter A of the earliest Swedish dictionary,
published in 1643, and a work on mathematics entitled
Archimedes Reformatus. No brighter intellectual figuW
arose in Sweden till the beginning of the 19th century.
The claim of Stjernhjelm to be the first Swedish poet
may be contested by a younger man, but a slightly^earliei*
writer, Gustaf Rosenhane (1619-1684), who was. a
reformer on quite other lines. If Stjernhjelm studied
Opitz, Rosenhane took the French poets of the Reuais^
sance for his models, and in 1650 wrote a cycle of one
hundred sonnets, the earliest in the language ; these were
published under the title Venerid in- 1680. Rosenhane
printed in 1658 a ." Complaint" of ■ the Swedish Lan-
guage" in thirteen hundred rattlifeg rhyming lines,
and in 1682 a collection of eighty ~ songs. '^He was a
metrist of the artistic order, skilful, learned, -and unim-
passioned. His zeal for the improvement of the litera-
ture of his country was beyond question. Most of the
young- poets. foUowed*.Stjernhjelm^ rather-' than rJioseOi
UTEKA.TUBE.]
SWEDEN
755
hane. As personal friendb and pupils of the former,
the brothers Columbus deserve special attention. Each
■wrote copiously in verse, but Johan (1640-1684) almost
entirely in Latin, while Samuel (1642-1678), especially
in his Odx Suet/iicse, showed himself an apt and fervid
imitator of the Swedish hexameters of Stjernhjelm. Of a
'rhyming family of Hjiirne, it is enough to mention one
'member, Urban Hjiirne (1641-1724), who introduced the
new form of classical tragedy from France, in a species of
transition from the masques of Stjernhjelm to the later
regular rliymed dramas. His best play was a Rosimunda.
Lars Joliansson (1642-1674), who called himself " Luci-
dor the Unfortunate," has been the subject of a whole
tissue of romance, most of which is fabulous. It is true,
however, that ho was stabbed, like Marlowe, in a mid-
night brawl at a tavern. His poems were posthumously
collected as Flouers of Helicon, Plucked and Disti-ibuted on
various occasions by Lucidor the Unfortxinaie. Stripped
of the myth which had attracted so much attention to his
name, Lucidor proves to be an occasional rhyraster of a
very low order. Haquin Spegel (1645-1714), the famous
arthbibhop of Upsala, wrote a long didactic epic in alex-
andrines, God's Labour and Best, with an introductory
ode to the Deity in rhymed hexameters. He was also a
good writer of hymns. Another ecclesiastic, the bishop
|of Skara, Jesper Svedberg (1653-1735), ■wrote sacred
.verses, but is better remembered as the father of Sweden-
borg. Peter Lagerlof (d. 1699) cultivated a pastoral vein
|in his Elisandra and Lticillis ; he was professor of poetry,
that is to say, of the art of writing Latin verses, at Upsala.
01ofWexionius( 1656-1 690?) published his Sinne- A fvel, a
collection of graceful miscellaneous pieces, in 1684, in an
edition of only 100 copies. Its existence was presently
forgotten, and the name of Wexionius had dropped out of
the history of literature, when Hanselli recovered a copy
and reprinted its contents in 1863. We have hitherto
considered only the followers of Stjernhjelm ; we have
now to epeak of an impontant writer who followed in the
footsteps of Rosenhane. Gunno Eurelius, afterwards en-
i'nobled with the name of Dahlstjerna (1661-1709), early
showed an interest in the poetry of Italy.' In 1690 he
translated Guarini's Pastor Fido, and in or just after 1697
published, in a folio volume without a date, his^Jvunga-
Skald, the first original poem in ottava rima produced in
Swedish. This is a bombastic and vainglorious epic in
honour of Charles XL, whom Eurelius adored ; it is not,
however, without great merits, richness of language, flow-
ing metro, and the breadth of a genuine poetic enthusiasm.
He published a little collection of lamentable sonnets
when his great master died. Eurelius struck the lyre
several times in honour of Charles XIL, but these poems
have all perished. He was a true patriot, and grief at
the defeat of Poltava is said to have cost him his life.
Johan Kuniua (1679-1713), called tho "Prince of Poets,"
published a collection entitled Dudaim, in which there is
nothing to praise, and with him tho generation of the
17th century closes. Talent had been shown by certain
individuals, but no healthy school of Swedish poetry had
been founded, and the latest imitators of Stjernhjelm had
lost every vestige of taste and independence.
In prose the 17th century produced but little of import-
ance in Sweden. Gustavus Adolphus (1594-1632) was
the most polished writer of its earlier half, and his
speeches take an important place in tho development of
tho languago. Tho most original mind of tho next age
.beok. was Olof Kudbock (1630-1702), tho famous author of
Atland er ilnnliem. He spent nearly all his life in
Upsala, building anatomical laboratories, conducting
musical concerts, laying out botanical gardens, arranging
medical lecture rooms — in a word, expending ceaseless
energy on the practical improvement of the university.
He was a genius in all the known branches of learning;
at twenty-three his physiological discoveries had made
him famous throughout Europe. His Atland (or Atlati-
t'tka) appeared in four folio volumes, in Latin and'
Swedish, in 1679-98; it was an attempt to summon all
the authority of the past, all the sages of Greece and the
bards of Iceland, to prove the inherent and indisputable
greatness of the Swedish nation, in which the fabulous
Atlantis had been at last discovered. It was the literary
expression of the majesty of Charles XL, and of his
autocratical dreams for the destiny of Sweden. From
another point of view it is a monstrous hoard or cairn of
rough-hewn antiquarian learning, now often praised, some-
times quoted from, and never read. Olof Verelius (1618-
1682) had led the way for Rudbeck, by his translations
of Icelandic sagas, a work which was carried on with
greater intelligence by Johan Pering^juld (1654-1720),
the editor of the Heimskrin'jla. The French philosopher
Descartes, who died at Christina's court at Stockholm in
1650, found his chief, though posthumous, disciple in
Anders Rydelius (1671-1738), bishop of Lund, who was
the master of Dalip, and thus connects us with the next
epoch. Charles XIL, under vehose special jmtronage
Rydelius wrote, was himself a metaphysician and physio-
logist of merit.
A much more brilliant period followed the death of
Charles XII. The influence of France and England took
the place of that of Germany and Italy. The taste of
Louis XIV., tempered by the study of Addison and Pope,
gave its tone to the academical court of Queen Ulrica
Eleonore, and Sweden became completely a slave to the
periwigs of literature, to the unities and graces of classical
France. Neveitheless this was a period of great intel-
lectual stimulus and activity, and Swedish literature took
a solid shape for the first time. This Augustan period in
Sweden closed somewhat abruptly about 1765. Two
writers in verse connect it with the school of the preced-
ing century. Jacob Frese (1691-1729), whose poems
v,ere published in 1726, was an elegiacal writer of much
grace, who foreshadowed the idyllic manner of Crentz.
Samuel von Triewald (1688-1743) played a very imper-
fect Dryden to Dalin's Pope. He was the first Swedish
satirist, and introduced Boileau to his countrymen. His
Satire upon our Stupid Poets may still be read with
entertainment. Both in verse and prose Olof von Dalin Dalia
(1708-1763) takes a higher place than any writer since
Stjernhjelm. He was inspired by the study of his great
English contemporaries. His Swediik Argus (1733-34)
was modelled on Addison's Spectator, his Thoughts about
Critics (1736) on Pope's Essay on Criticism, hia Tale of a
Horse on Swift's Tale of a Tub. Dalin's style, whether in
prose or verse, was of a finished elegance. His great epic,
Swedish Freedom (1742), was WTitten in ale.xandrines of
far greater smoothness and vigour than had previously
been attempted. When in 1737 tho now Royal Swedish
theatre was opened, Dalin led the way to a new school of
dramatists with his Brynhilda, a regular tragedy in the
style of Cr6billon pere. In his comedy of The Envious
Man, he introduced the manner of Moliere, or more pro
perly that of Holberg. His songs, his satires, his. occa-
sional pieces, without displaying any real originality, show
Dalin's tact and skill as a workman with the pen. He
stole from England and France, bu£ with tho plagiarism
of a man of genius ; and his multifarious labours raised
Sweden to a level with thd other literary countrie.s of
Europe. They formed a basis upon which moro national
and moro scrupulous writers could build their variouK
structures. A foreign critic, especially an English one,
will never be able to give Dalin so mncli credit aa tho
75G
S >7 E D E N
[liteeatueb.
Swedes ao ; but be was certainly aii unsurpassable master
of pastiche.
The only poet of importance wlio contested the laurels
of Dalih was a woman. Hedvig Charlotta Nordenflycht
(1718-1763) was the centre of a- society wbicli ventured
to rival that which Queen Ulrica Eleonore created and
Dalin adorned. Both groups were classical in taste, both
worshipped the new lights in England and France. Fru
Nordenflycht wrote with facility and grace ; her collection
of lyrics, The Sorrowing Turtledove (1743), in spite of
its aSectation, enjoyed and merited a great success ; it
was the expression of a deep and genuine sorrow— the
death of her husbaud after a very brief and happy married
life. It was in 1744 that she settled in Stockholm and
opened her famous literary salon. She was called " The
Swedish Sappho," and scandal has been needlessly busy in
giving point to the allusion. It was to Fru Nordenflycht's
credit that she discovered and encouraged the talent of
two very distinguished poets younger than herself, Creutz
and Gyllenborg. Gustaf Filip Creutz (1729-1785) was a
Finlander who achieved an extraordinary success with his
idyllic poems, and in particular with the beautiful pastoral
of Atis och Camilla, long the most popular of all Swedish
poems. In 1763, the year of the death of Dalin and of
Fru Nordenflycht, Creutz ceased to write, having been
appointed minister to Spain ; he gave up poetry for poli-
tics. Gustaf Frederik Gyllenborg (1731-1808) was a
less accomplished poet, less. delicate and touching, more
rhetorical and artificial. His epic Tapet ijfver Bait (" The
Expedition across the Belt") (1785) is an imitation, in
twelve books, of Voltaire's Henriade, and deals with the
prowess of Charles X. It is impossible to read it. He
wrote fables, allegories, and satires. He outlived his
chief contemporaries so long that the new generation
addressed him as " Father Gyllenborg." Anders Odel
(1718-1773) wrote in 1739 the famous "Song of Malcolm
Sinclair," the Sinclairsvisa. The writers of verse in this
period were exceedingly numerous, but it cannot be need-
ful, in a sketch of this kind, to preserve the minor names.
In prose, as was to be expected, the first half of the
18th century was tich in Sweden as elsewhere. The first
Swedish novelist vras Jakob Henrik Mork (1714-1763).
His romances have some likeness to those of Richardson ;
they are moral, long-winded, and slow in evolution, but
written in an exquisite style, and with much knowledge
of human nature. .Adalrik och Gbtkilda, which went on
appearing from 1742 to 1745, is the best known; it was
followed, between 1749 and 1758, by Thecla. Jakob
jWallenberg (1746-1778) described a voyage he took to
the East Indies and China under the very odd title of Min
Son pa Galejan (" My Son at the Galleys "), a work full of
humour and originality. ,We have already indicated that
Dalin's activity in prose was scarcely less abundant or less
meritorious than that in verse. He wrote an important
history of Sweden down to Charles IX, His contemporary
Johan Ihre (1707-1780), a professor at Upsala, edited
the Codex Argenteus of Ulfilas, and produced the first com-
plete Swedish dictionary. In doing this he was assisted
by the labours of two other grammarians, Sven Hof (d.
1786) and Abraham Sahlstedt (d. 1776). Karl Gustaf
Tessin (1695-1770) wrote on politics and on aesthetics.
Anders Johan von Hopken (1712-1789), the friend of
Ulrica Eleonore, was a master of rhetorical compliment
in addresses and funeral orations. In spite of all the
encouragement of the court, drama did not flourish in
Sweden. Among the tragedians of the age we may men-
tion Dalin, Gyllenborg, and Erik Wrangel' (d. 1765). In
comedy Reinhold Gustaf Modee (d. 1752) wrote three
good plays in rivalry of Holberg. In science Linnaeus, or
Karl von Linn6 (1707-1778), was the name of greatest
genius in the whole century ; but he wrote almost entirely
in Latin. The two great Swedish chemists, Torbern Oiof
Bergman (1735-1784) and Karl Vilhelm Scheele (1742-
1786), flourished at this time. In pathology a great
name was left by Nils llos(5n von Rosenstein (1706-1773),
in navigation by Admiral Fredrik Henrik af Chaiiraati
(d. 1808), in philology by Karl AuriviUius (d. 1786). But
these and other distinguished savants whose names might
be enumerated .scarcely belong to the history of Swedish
literature. The same may be said about that uiarvellousl
and many-sided genius, Emanuel Swudenborg (1688-
1772), who, though the son of a Swedish poet, preferred
to prophesy to the world in Latin (see Swedenbokg).
What is called the Gustaviau period is supposed to)
commence with the reign of Gustavus III. in 1771 and
to close with the abdication of Gustavus IV. in 1809,
This period of less than forty years was particularly rick
in literary talent, and the taste of the people in literarj
matters widened to a remarkable extent. Journalisiii
began to develo|) ; the Swedish Academy was founded ;
the drama first learned to flourish in Stockholm ; and
literature ' began ' to ; take a characteristically national
shape.' ,This fruitful period naturally divides itself into
two divisions, equivalent to the reigns of the two kings*
The royal personages of Sweden have commonly been pre
tectors of literature; they have strangely often been abl»
men of letters themselves. Gustavus IlL (1746-1792),
the founder of the Swedish Academy and of the Swedish
theatre, was himself a playwright of no mean ability,
One of his prose dramas, iiiri Brake och Johan Gyllen-
stjerna, held the stage for many years. In 1773 the king
opened the national theatre in Stockholm, and on that
occasion an opera of Thetis och Felee was performed,
written by himself. In 1786 Gustavus created the Swedish
Academy, on the lines of the French Academy, but with
eighteen members instead of ,forty. _'• The first list o)
immortals, which included the survivors of a previous
age and such young celebrities as Kellgren and Leopold,
embraced all that was most brilliant in the best society ot
Stockholm ; the king himself presided, and won the first
prize for an oration. The principal writers of the reigD
of Gustavus III. bear the name of the Academical school.
But we must first consider a writer of genius who had
nothing academical in his composition.
Karl Mikael Bellman (1740-1795), the most original
and one of the most able of all Swedish writers, was an
improvisatore of the first order (see Bellman). The riot
of his dithyrambic hymns sounded a strange note of
nature amid the conventional music of the Gustavians.
Of the academical poets Johan Gabriel Oxenstjcrna
(1750-1818), the nephew of Gyllenborg, was a descriptive
idyllist of grace. He translated Paradise Lost. A writer
of far more power and versatility was Johan Henrik!
Kellgren (1751-1795), the leader of taste in his time (see
Kellgken). He was the first writer of the end of the
century in Sweden, and the second undoubtedly was Karl
Gustaf af Leopold (1756-1829), "the blind seer Tiresias-
Leopold," who lived on to represent the old school in the
midst of romantic times. Leopold was not equal to
Kellgren in general poetical ability, but he is great in
didactic and satiric writing. He wrote a satire, the
Enebomiaa, against a certain luckless Per Enebom, and
a classic tragedy of Virginia. He is little read now.
Gudmund Goran Adlerbeth (1751-1818) was a translator,
and the author of a successful tragic opera, Cora och Alonzo
(1782). Anna Jlaria Lenngren (1754-1817) was a very
popular sentimental writer of graceful verse,., chiefly
between 1792 and 1798. She was less French and more
national than most of her contemporaries ; sh§, ia a
Swedish Mrs Hemaus.
a-TTERATURE.]
S W E D F N
757
Two writers of the academic period, besides Bellman,
"and a generation later than he, kept apart, and served to
lead up to the romantic revival. Bengt Lidner (1759-
1793), a melancholy and professedly elegiacal writer, had
analogies with such German sentimentalists as Xovalis.
He led a strange wandering life, and died, still young, in
extreme poverty. His poems appeared in 1788. Tomas
Thorild (1759-1806; was a much stronger nature, and
led the revolt against prevailing taste with far more
ivigour. But he is an irregular and inartistic versifier,
and it is mainly as a prose writer, and especially as a
Ivery original and courageous critic, that he is now mainly
remembered. He settled in Germany, and died as a pro-
fessor in Greifswald. Karl August Ehrensviird (1745-
1800) may be mentioned here as a critic whose aims
Bomewhat resembled those of Thorild. The creation of
ihe Academy led to a great production of aesthetic and
philosophical writing. Among critics of taste may be
mentioned Nils von Eosenstein (1752-1824) ; the rhetor-
ical bishop of Linkcipiug, Magnus Lehnberg (1758-1808) ;
and Count Georg Adlersparre (1760-1809). Kellgren
and Leopold were both of them important prose writers.
The e.>Lcellent lyrical poet Frans Mikael Franzen (1772-
1847) (see Franzen), and a belated academician Joban
David Valerius (1776-1852), fill up the space between
ithe Gustavian period and the domination of romantic
ideas from Germany. It was Lorenzo Hammarskiild
,(1785-1827) who in 1803 introduced the views of Tieck
and Schelling by founding the society in Upsala called
" Vitterhctens Viinner " (see Hammarskold). This passed
away, but was succeeded in 1807 by the famous "Aurora
fbrbundet," founded by two youths of genius. Per Daniel
JA.madeus Atterbom (1790-1855) and Vilhelm Frederik
Palmblad (1788-1852). These young men had at first
io endure bitter opposition and ridicule from the academic
writers then in power, but they supported this with
jheerfulness, and answered back in their magazines,
Pol^fem and Fosforos (1810-1813). They were named
•' Fosforisterna " (Phosphorists) from the latter. The
principal members of the school were the three writers
last named (see Atterbom) and Karl Frederik Dahlgren
(1791-1844), a humorist who owed much to the example
' af Bellman. Fru Julia Nyberg (1785-1854), under the
title of Euphrosyue, was their tenth !Muse, and wrote
agreeable lyrics. Among the Phosphorists Atterbom was
the' man of most genius. On the side of T;he Academy
they were vigorously attacked by Per Adam Wallmark
(1777-1858). One of them, Atterbom, eventually forced
th'j doors of the Academy itself.
In 1811 certain young men in Stockholm founded a
'/■ociety for the elevation of society by means of the study
thic of Scandinavian antiquity. This was the Gothic Society,
^iety. which began to issue the magazine called Iduna as its
organ. Of its patriotic editors the most prominent was
Uer. Erik Gustaf Geijer (1783-1847), but he was presently
joined by a young man slightly older than himself, Esaias
jTegndr (1782-1846), afterwards bishop of Vexio, the
greatest of Swedish writers (.see Geijer and Tegner).
Even more enthusiastic than either in pushing to its last
extreme the worship of ancient myths and manners was
Per Henrik Ling (1776-1839), no\y better remembered
as tbi father of gymnastic science than as a poet. The
Gothic Society eventually included certain younger men
than these— Arvid August Afzelius (1785-1871), the
first editor of the Swedish folk-songs ; Gustaf Vilhelm
Guraaelius (1789-1877), who has been soniowbat pre-
tentiously styled "The Swedi.sh Walter Scott," author of
the historical novel of Tord Bonde ; Baron Bernhard von
Beskow (1796-1868), lyrist and dramatist; and Karl
August Nicander (1799-1839), a poet who approached
the Phosphorists in manner. The two gi:eat lights of fho
Gothic school are Geijer, mainly in prose; and Tegner, in
his splendid and copious verse. Johan Olof Wallin
(1779-1839) may be mentioned in the same category,'
although he is really distinct from all the schools. ■ He
was archbishop of Upsala, and in 1819 ho published the
national hymn-book of Sweden, now officially used in all
churches ; of the hymns in this collection, one hundred
and twenty-six are written by Wallin himself.
From 1810 to 1840 was the blossoming-timo ie
Swedish poetry, and tliere were several writers of distin
guished merit who could not be included in either of th"!
groups enumerated above. Second only to Tegner in
genius, the brief life and mysterious death of Erik Johat
Stagnelius (1793-1823) have given a romantic interest to
all that is connected with his name. His first publica-
tion was the epic of Vladimir the Great (1817); to this
succeeded the romantic poem Blanda. His singular
dramas. The Bacchantes (1822), Sigurd Ring, which wa>i
posthumous, and The Martyrs (1821), are esteemed by
many critics to be his most original productions. His
mystical lyrics, entitled Liljor i Saron ("Lilies in Sharon")^
and his sonnets, which are the best in Swedish, may be
recommended as among the most delicate products of the
Scandinavian mind. Stagnelius has been compared, and
not improperly, to Shelley. EriK Sjoberg, who called
himself "Vitalis" (1794-1828), was another gifted writer
whose career was short and wretched. A volume of his
poems appeared in 1820 ; they are few in number and
all brief. His work divides itself into two classes — the
one profoundly melancholy, the other witty or boisterous.
Two humorous poets of the same period who deserve
mention are Johan Anders Wadman (1777-1837), an
improvisatore of the same class as Bellman, and Kristian
Erik Fahlcrantz (1790-1866), bishop of Vesteras, whose
humorous j)olemical poem of Noah's Ark (1825)_isia
masterpiece.
Among the poets who have been mentioned above, the
majority distinguished themselves also in prose. But the
period was not one in which Swedish prose shone ■Nvitli
any special lustre. The first prosaist of the time was,
without question, the novelist Karl Jonas Ludvig Alm-
qvist (1793-1866), around whose extraordinary personal
character and career a mythical rpmance has already
collected (see Almqvist). He was encyclopaedic in his
range, although his stories preserve most charm ; on what-
ever subject he wrote his style was always exquisitb.
Frederik Cederborgh (1784-1835) revived the comic
novel in his Uno von Trasenhery and Ottar Trailing. The
historical novels of Gumailius have already been alluded
to. Swedish history supplied themes for the romances
of Count Per Georg Sparre (1790-1871) and of Gustaf
Henrik MoUin (1803-1876). But all those writers sink
before the sustained popularity of the Finnish poetess
Fredrika Bremer (1801-1865), whose storie.« have reached
farther into the distant provinces of the world of letters
than the writings of any other Swede except Tegner (see
Bremer). She was preceded by Sofia Zelow, afterward^
Baroness von Knorring (1797-1848), who wrote a long
series of aristocratic novels.
At the beginning of the romantic period a higli position
was taken as an independent thinker by Benjamin HiJijet
(1767-1812), who owed much at the outset to Kant and
Fichto. Geijer also distinguished himself in iihilosojihical
writing, but the most original of Swedish i)hilo.sopliera
has been Kristofer Jakob Bostrom (1797-1866), a peri-
patetic talker, who wrote little, but whose .system hot
been reduced to literature by K. Claeson (1827-1859),
Profes.sor Axel Nybla;us (b. 1821), and olLer disciples^
A polemical writer of Kreat talent was Magnus Jakob
758
S W E — S W E
Crusenstolpe (1795-1865), of whose work it has been said
that " it is not history and it is not fiction, but something
brilliant between the one and the other." As an historian
of Swedish literature Per Wieselgren (1800-1877) has com-
posed a valuable work, and he has made other valuable
contributions to history and bibliography. In history we
meet again with the great name of Geijer, with that of Jonas
Hallenberg (1748-1834), and with that of Anders Magnus
Strinnholra (1786-1862), whose labours in the field of
Swedish history were extremely valuable. Geijer and
Strinnholm prepared the way for the most popular and
perhaps the greatest" of all Swedish historians, Anders
Fryxell (1795-1881), whose ia,moViS Bercitielser ur Svensia
Histon'en appeared in parts during a space of nearly sixty
yeans, an extraordinary e.xample of persistent and uninter-
rupted work. As a legal historian the first place is easily
maintained by Karl Johan Schlyter (b. 1795). Hans
Jiirta (1774-1847) was a statesman who wrote with
vigour on economical subjects. In science it is only
possible to mention the celebrated names of Jons Jakob
Berzelius (1779-1848) the chemist, Elias Fries (1794-
1878) the botanist, Karl Adolf Agardh (1785-1859)
the physiologist, and Sven Nilsson (1787-1883) the
paleontologist.
In the generation which has just passed away, the first
poet of Sweden, without a rival, was Johan Ludvig
Runeberg (1804-1877), who divides with Tegn^r the
highest honour in Swedish literature (see Runeberg).
The other leading verse-writers were Karl Vilhelmi Bottiger
(1807-1878), the son-in-law and biographer of Tegner;
Johan Bijrjesson (1790-1866), the last of the Phosphorists,
author of various romantic dramas ; Vilhelm August von
Braun (1813-1860), a humorous lyrist; "Talis Qualis,"
whose real name was Karl Vilhelm August Strandberg
(18.18-1877); and August Teodor Blanche (1811-1868),
the Dcpular dramatist. But Runeberg is the oulv great
poetic name of this period. In prose there was not even
a Runeberg. Novel-writing was sustained at no very
high level by Karl Anton Wetterbergh (b. 1804), who
called himself " Onkel Adam," by Emilie Carlen (b.
1807), whose autobiography has lately appeared, by Oskar
Patrick Sturzen-Becker, "Orvar Odd," (1811-1869), by
August Blanche, and by Marie Sofia Schwartz (b. 1819).
Lars Johan Hierta (1801-1872) was the leading journalist,
Johan Henrik Thomander, bishop of Lund (1798-1865),
the greatest orator, Matthias Alexander Castren (1813-
1852) a prominent man of science, and Karl Gustaf af
Forsell (1783-1848) the principal statistician of this
not very brilliant period. Elias Lonnrot (1802-1884)
is distinguished as the Finnish professor who discovered
and edited the Kalevala. It is impossible to give an
exhaustive list of names in so short a sketch as this.
Swedish literature is not in a very lively condition at
the present time. The most popular living poet is the
Finn, Zakris Topelius (b. 1818). Of a higher artistic
merit are the finished lyrics of Count Karl Snoilsky (b.
1841). King Oscar II. (b. 1829) is a genuine poet of the
second order, as his father Charles XV. was of the third.
Karl David af Wirsen (b. 1842) is an active writer on the
conservative side. The best living author of Sweden is
undoubtedly Viktor Rydberg (b. 1829), who has written
masterly novels and historical works. The latest influ-
ences from Denmark and France are beginning to be
represented by Strindberg the novelist, and by Fru A.
Ch. Edgren, the most successful Swedish dramatist of the
moment. The revival of literature which has been so
marked in the other two Scandinavian countries has not
yet spread into Sweden.
Authorities. — P. Hanselli, Samlade Vitterhctsarieitn fr&n Stiem-
hjelm till Dalin ; B. E. Malmstrom, Griinddragen af Svenska
Viltcrhdcns Hisloria ; P. Wieselgren, Sveriges Skima Ziteralur,;
Warburg, Svensk Liiteraturhisloria i Sammandrag. (E. W. O.)
SWEDENBORG, or Syedbero, Emanuel (1688-1772),
was born at Stockholm January 29, 1688. His father, Dr
Jesper Svedberg, subsequently professor of theology at
Upsala and bishop of Skara, was a pious, learned, and a
brave man, who did not escape the charge of ieterodoxy,
and believed himself to be in constant intercourse with
ange's. Emanuel shared as a child his father's piety, and
his parents thought that "angels spoke through him."
His education embraced the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew
languages, and, above all, mathematics with the natural
sciences, but seems to have been curiously defective in
theology. Endowed with unusual intellectual powers and
an iron constitution, he acquired vast stores of learning
in all those branches. Having completed his university
course at Upsala, in 1710 he commenced the customary
European tour, visiting England, Holland, France, and
Germany, studying especially natural philosophy, though
alternating it vdih the composition of Latin verses, little
of the poet as there was in his nature. In 1715 he
returned to Upsala, and devoted himself to natural science
and various engineering works. Froth 1716 to 1718 he
published a scientific periodical, called Dxdalus Hyper-
boreus, a record of mechanical and mathematical inven-
tions and discoveries. In 1716 he was introduced to
Charles XII., who appointed hirn assessor in the Swedish
college of mines. Two years later he distinguished him-
self at the king's siege of Frederikshall by the invention
of machines for the transport of boats and galleys over-
land from Stromstadt to Iddefjord, a distance of 14
English miles. The same year he published various
mathematical and mechanical works. At the death of
Charles XII. Queen Ulrica elevated him and his family
to the rank of nobility, by which his name was changed
from Svedberg to Swedenborg. The next years were
devoted to the duties and studies connected with his
office, which involved the visitation of the Swedisl^,
Saxon, Bohemian, and Austrian mines. In 1724 he was
offered the chair of mathematics in the university of
Ppsala, which he declined. Gradually his inquiring and
philosophical mind led him to wider studies than those of
his profession. As early as 1721 he was seeking to lay
the foundation of a scientific explanation of the universe,
when he published his Prodromus Principiorum Rerum
Naluralium and had already written his Principia in its
first form. Thirteen years later, in 1734, appeared in
three volumes Opera PhilosopJiica et JUneralia, the first
volume of which (his Principia) contained- his view of the
first principles of the univetse, a curious mechanical and
geometrical theory of the origin of things. Tbe same yew
followed Prodromjts Philosophic ratiodnarUis de Ittfitiito tt
Causa Finali Creaiionis, which treats of the relation of
the finite to the infinite and of the soul to the body, s«ek-
ing to establish a nexus in each case as a means of over-
coming the difliculty of their relation. From this time he
applied himself to the problem of discovering the nature
of soul and spirit by means of anatomical studies. He
travelled in Germany, France, and Italy in quest of the
most eminent teachers and the best books dealing with the
human frame, and published, as the results of his inquiries,
among other works, his CEconomia Regni Animalis (Lon-
don, 1740-41) and 5f(7nttOT.4nma/e (The Hague, 1744-45,
London, 1745). But a orofound change was coming over
SW EDENBOKG
759
"him, which was to make of the scientific inquirer the super-
naturalist prophet. Neither by geometrical, nor physical,
nor metaphysical principles had he succeeded in reaching
and grasping the infinite and the spiritual, or in elucidat-
ing their relation- to man and man's organism, though he
had caught glimpses of facts and methods which he
thought only required confirraation and development.
Late in life he wrote to Oetinger that "he was introduced
by the Lord first into the natural sciences, and thus pre-
pared, and, indeed, from the year 1710 to 1744, when
heavea was opened to him." This latter great event is
described by him as "the opening of his spiritual sight,"
" the manifestation of the Lord to him in person," " his_
introduction into the spiritual world." Before his illu-
mination he had been instructed by dreams, and enjoyed
extraordinary visions, and heard mysterious conversations.
According to his own account, the Lord filled him with
His spirit to teach the doctrines of the New Church by
the word from Himself; He commissioned him to do this
work, opened the sight of his spirit, and so let him into the
spiritual world, permitting him to sae the heavens and the
hells, and to converse with angel? i<nd spirits for years;
but he never received anything rela'mg to the doctrines of
the church from any angel but from the Lord alone while he
was reading the word {True Christian Religion, No. 779).
He elsewhere speaks of his office as principally an opening
of the spiritual sense of the word. His friend Eobsahm
reports, fi'om Swedenborg's own account to him, the cir-
cumstances of the first extraordinary revelation of the Lord,
when He appeared to him and said, " I am God the Lord,
the Creator and Redeemer of the world. I have chosen
thee to unfold the spiritual sense of the Holy Scripture.
I will Myself dictate to thee what thou shalt write." From
that time he gave up all worldly learning, and laboured
solely to expound spiritual things. But it was some time
before he became quite at home in the spiritual world.
In the year 1747 he resigned his post of assessor of the
college of mines that he might devote himself to his higher
vocation, requesting only to be allowed to receive as a pen-
sion the half of his salary. He took up afresh his study of
Hebrew, and began his voluminous works cm the interpreta-
tion of the Scriptures. The principal of these is the Arcana
Coelestia in eight quarto volumes, which he printed in Lon-
don between 1749 and 1756, professing to have derived
the whole of it by direct illumination from the Almighty
Himself, and not from any spirit or angel. His later work
De Ccelo et de Infeiiio (London, 1758) consists of extracts
and portions of the Arcana. His MS. work Apocalypsia
Explicata, expounding the doctrines of the New Church,
■was prepared in 1757-59. In 1763 appeared \\\s Sapientia
Angelica de Divino Amore et de Divina Sapientia, containing
the most philosophical brief account of the principles of the
New Church. The long list of his subsequent WTitings will
be found in the works mentioned below. His life from 1747
was spent alternately in Sweden, Holland, and London, in
the composition of his works and their. publication, till his
death, which took place in London, March 29, 1772.
Ho was a man who won the respect, confidence, and lovo of all
who came into contact with him. Though people niiglit disbelieve
in his visions, they feared to ridicule them in his presence. His
manner of life was simple in the extreme ; his dictconsisted chiefly
of bread and milk and largo quantities of coffee. He i>aid no
attention to the distinction of day and night, and sometimes lay
for days together in a trance, while his son-ants were often dis-
turbed at night by hearing what he called his conflicts with evil
apiritJ<. But his intercourso with spirits was often perfectly calm,
in broad daylight, and with all his faculties awake. Three extra-
ordinary instances are produced by his friends and followers in
proof of his seership and admission into the unseen world. But
there exists no account at first hand of the exact facts, and Sweden-
borg's own reference to one of these instances admits of another
explanation than the supernatural one. The philosopher Kant was
struck by them in 1763, but in 1766, after further ioi^uirieg, con-
cluded that two of them had "no other foundation than common
report {gemcine Sage)." See Kehrbach's edition of Kant's Traunu
cines Geulerscliers (Leipsic, 1880).
Swedenborg's theosophio system is most briefly and comprehen-
sively presented in his Divine Love and Divine Wisdom. The
point of view from which God must be regarded is that of His
being the Divine Man. His ewe is infinite love; His manifestation,
form, or body is infinite wisdom. Divine love is the self-subsisting
life of the universe. From Clod emanates a divine sphere, which
appears in the spiritual worlu as a sun, and from this spiritual sun
again proceeds the sun of the natural world. The spiritual sun is
the source of love and intelligence, or life, and the natiual sun
the source of nature, or the Receptacles of life ; the firet is alive,
the second dead. The two worlds of nature and spirit are perfectly
distinct, but they are intimately related by analogous substances,
laws, and forces. Each has its atmos))lieres, waters, and earths,
but in the one they are natural and in the other spiritual. In God
there are three infinite and uncreated "degrees of being, and in
man and all things corresponding three degrees, finite and created.
They are love, wisdom, use ; or end, cause, and effect. The final
ends of all things are in the Divine ilind, the causes of all things
in the spiritual world, and their effects in the natural world. By
a love of each degree man comes into conjunction with them and
the worlds of nature, spirit, and God. The end of creation is that
man may have this conjunction and become the image of his
Creator and creation. In man are two receptacles for God, — the
will for divine love and the understanding for divine wisdom,'
— that love and wisdom flowing into both so that they become
human. Before the fall this influx was free and unhindered, and
the conjunction of man with God and the creation complete, but
from that time the connexion was interrupted and God had to
interpose by successive dispensations. At last the power ami
influence of the spirits of darkness, with whom man associates
himself by his sin, became so great that the existence of the
human race was threatened, and Jehovah was necessitated to
descend into nature to restore the connexion between Himself and
man. He could not come in His unveiled Divinity, for the " hells "
would have then perished, whom he did not seek to destroy but
only to subjugate. Another purpose of Jehovah's incarnation was
the manifestation of His divine love more fully than ever before.
Swedenborg wholly rejects the orthodox doctrine of atonement;
and the unity of God, as opposed to his idea of the trinity of the
church, is an essential feature of his teaching. Another distinc-
tive feature is that Jehovah did not go back to heaven without
leaving behind Him a visible representative of Himself in the word
of the Scripture. This word is an eternal incarnation, with its
threefold sense — natural, spiritual, celestial. And Swedenborg is
the divinely commissioned expounder of this threefold sense of the
word, and so the founder of the New Church, the paraclete of the
last dispensation. That he might perceive and understaud the
spiritual and the celestial senses of the word he enjoyed immediato
revelation from the Lord, was admitted into the angelic world, arfd
had committed to him the key of " correspondences " with which
to unlock the divine treasures of wisdom. Swedenborg claimed
also to have learnt by his admission into the spiritual world the
■true states of men in the next life, the scenery and occupations of
heaven and hell, the true doctrine of Providence, the origin of evil,
the sanctity and perpetuity of marriage, and to have been a witness
of the "last judgment," or the second coming of the Lord, which
took place in the year 1757. It was then that the New Church,
or the New Jerusalem, was inauginated, and Swedenborg claimed
to be the divinely appointed projihct and tcachen of its doctrines,
and maintained that his revelations excel all that preceded them. (
Swcdenborgianism. — Swedenborgianism, as professed by Sweden-
borg's followers, is based on the belief of Swedenborg's claims to
have witnessed the last judgment, or the second advent of the Lord,
with the inauguration of the New Church through the now system
of doctrine promulgated by him and derived from the Scriptures,
into the true sense of which he was tho first to be introduced.
The doctrines of the New Church are those of the internal .sense of
tho word as revealed to Swedenborg, who received them into his
understanding and published them through the press and not as a
preacher. They are. briefly— (1) that tho Lord Jesus Christ is the
only God, that in Him there is the Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost, tho Father being His infinite divine nature or soul, the Son
His glorified human nature or divine body, and the Holy Spirit the
life proceeding from His divine humanity l^or the salvation of man ;
(2) that tho Father in His eternal huinuiiity descended as tho Lord
Jesus Christ to tho earth, assuming fallen human nature, that in it
ho might conquer hell and deliver mankind from its influence ; (3)
that the Sacrod Scriptures oro the true word of God, accommodated
to the understanding of angils and nion, and constituting the
pori>etual medium between heaven nnd tho church, tho law of
correspoudenco having been revealed by the Lord to .Sweiltuborg
as the key for their interpretation ; (4) that man is not .saved by
faith alone but by a life according to the word, the summary of
which ia tho decalogue ; (B) that heaven is mode up of thou who
760
S W E — S W I
keep God's commandments and love Him and His kingdom, and
hell of those who love themselves and the world ; (6) that the
spiritual *orld — heaven and hell — holds tlie same relation to the
natural world and its inhabitants as the sonl to the body, being
in and around the natural world and its life, and that after the
death of the body, the spirit continues to live in the spiritual world
it had previously though unconsciously inhabited. Swedenborgians
now constitute a widely spread and considerable society, with a
regularly constituted ecclesiastical organization and a zealous
missionary activity. Soon after Swedenboi-g's death students of
his works in England and Sweden began to translate them from
the Latin and to spread his views. First in time and activity
amongst these early Swedenborgians was the Rev. John Clowes,
rector of St John's, Manchester, who translated the whole of several
treatises. The first public meeting of Swedenborgians, from which
dates the foundation of the society, was held in London Decem-
ber 5, 1783, and was attended by five persons. The separation of
the society from the "old church" as a religious body, with its
distinct ceed, worship, and ecclesiastical organization, took place
May 7, 1787, and its first place of worship was in Great Eastcheap,
London. The first general conference of the New Church was held
April 17, 178S, in this chapel, when a series of resolutions concern-
ing the creed, the sacraments, and ecclesiastical order of the society
were adopted. At the same time churches began to be formed
in various towns in England and in America. Towards the end
of the century Swedenborg's doctrines obtainjd a considerable
degree of acceptance on the Continent, separate societies having
arisen here and there. Meantime the Manchester Printing Society,
under Mr Clowes, printed and distributed Swedenborg's works in
large numbers. In 1810 a London Printing Society was formed,
which has been very active in the same way to the nreseut time.
In 1817 a convention of the American New Church was held in
Philadelphia, which gave proof of the growth of the body in the
United States. The same year the tenth general conference of
the English section of the church was attended by twenty-sfeven
delegates and ministers of various societies, and in 1821 the»e were
upwards of fifty-two of these in Great Britain. At the general
conference in 1885 it was reported that there were sixty-five
societies or churches in Great Britain connected with the con-
ference, having 5700 registered members, the net increase of the
year being 119. The names of thirty-two ordained ministers
appear in tha report ; the investments of the society amount to
£60,453; and there are a dozen educational and missionary institu-
tions in connexion with it. . Some of the New Church, day schools
lare amongst the largest and most efficient in the kingdom. From
the same report it appears that the New Church has societies or
institutions in most British colonies as well as in the principal
countries of Europe. The report of the General Convention of the
New Jerusalem in the United States, 1885, gives the names of 116
societies in America, with nearly the same number of ordinary
'ministers. In Italy, Sweden, and Prussia there is a Swedenborg
mission sustained by help from England and America. In South
Germany there exist congregations of the New Church, and the
librarian of the university of Tubingen, Dr Immanuel 'Tafel, was
.exceedingly active until his death (1863) in the publication and
translation of Swedenborg's works, and in the vindication of the
doctrines of the New Church. In Austria, Norway, and Switzerland
also there are congregations. But, in addition to full converts to
Sweden borgianism, a considerable number of prominent theologians
and other thinkers have been attracted by Swedenborg's works and
parts of his system. While the extravagant anthropomorphism,
the mechanical materialism, the theological narrowness, the wild
allegorizing, the entire absence of historical knowledge, and the
astounding prophetic claims of the man and his system, — in a word,
the Gnosticism of Swedenborg and his followers, — must be offensive
to philosophical minds, they can discover in his writings and the
drift of his thought fine ethical views, profound glances of insight
into the depths of the universe, —God, nature, mun, and his destiny.
The names of Oetinger, Herder, Goerres, Coleridge,. Emerson, J. D.
Morell may be given as proof of this. Such thinkers were attracted
by one or more of the dominant and pervading principles or tenden-
cies of his extraordinary mind. For he felt, if he did not adequately
expound, the harmony of the universe, the fundamental unity of
being and thought, of knowledge and will, of the divine and the
human ; and his wild system of allegory, with his equally wild
communications with the unseen world, failed to conceal a deep
moral and intellectual revolt against the most irrational forms of
traditional orthodoxy, while his deep spiritual nature spurned the
shallow intellectualism of the rationalists of the 18th century.
Littratwe. — A rich collection of materials for a life of Swedenborg is Docu-
ments concerning the Life and Character of Swedenborg, Collected, Translated,
and Annotated, by Dr. R. L. Tafel, in 3 vols., Swedenborg Society, 1875-77. Of
English lives the principal aie — Emanuel Swedenborg, a Biography, by J. J. G.
WUltinson, London, 1841); Swedenborg, a Biography and an Exposition, by E.
PaztOQ Hood, London, 1854 ; Swedenborg, his Life and Writings, by William
White, 1856, rewritten in 1867 and in 18C8 ; Emanuel Swedenborg, the Spiritual
Columbus, a Sietc/i, by U. S. E., 2d ed., London, 1877. A useful handbook of
Swedenborg's theology, consisting of extracts in English from his num*erou3
yoi-kfl, Is the Compendium of the Theological Writings of Emanuel Swedenborg, by
the Rev. Samuel WaiTen, London, 188.5. Brief summaries of his system and
writings are ^iven In all the above biogiaphles and in Edmund Swift's Manual
of the Doctrines of the iWir Church, London, 1885. Important critiques from
Independent points of view are "Emannel Swedenborg." in the Prospective
Review, May 18.50; "The Jlysllc," in Emerson's Representatire Men. 1850;
Kant's Trdunie eines Geistersehers, 1766 (the best editinn by Kehrttach, Lelpsic,
1880) ; Herdei'a " Emanuel Swedenlwrg," in his Adrastea (Werlce iur Phil, und
Gesch., vol. xli. pp. 110-125) ; Goerres's Emanuel Swedenborg, seine Visionen vittt
sein Verhdlttiiss zur Kirche, 1827; Domer'a Gesch. d. Prot. Theol., Munich, 1867,
pp 662-67. For the history of Swedenborgianism, see Rise and Progress of the SevB
Jerusalem Church in England, America, and other Parts, by Robert Hindmarsli,
edited by E. Madelev, London, 1861. The chief apologetic work isNoble's Appeal,
loth ed. 1881, London. See also Xational Review, April 1858. (J. F. S.)
SWEET POTATO. See Potato.
SWIFT, a bird so called from the extreme speed ofifS
iliglit, -which apparently exceeds that of any other British
species, the Hirundo apvs of Linnfeus and Cypselus apus
or murarins of modern ornithologists, who have at last
learned that it has only an outward resemblance but no
near affinity to the Swaxlo^w (an<e,p. 729)or its allies.
Well known as a summer- visitor throughout the greater
part of Europe, it is one ,of the latest to return from
Africa, and its stay in the country of its birth is of the
shortest, for it generally disappears from England very
early in August, though occasionally to be seen for even
two months later.
The Swift commonly chooses its nesting-plaoe in holes under the
eaves of buildings, but a crevice in the face of a quarry, or even a
hollow tree, will serve it with the accommodation it requires. This
indeed is not much, since every natural function, except .sleep,
oviposition, and incubation, is performed on the wing, and the
easy evolutions of this bird in the air, where it remains for honrs
together, are the admiration of all who witness them. Though
considerably larger than a Swallow, it can be recognized at a
distance less by its size than by its peculiar shape. The head
scarcely projects from the anterior outline of the pointed wings,
which form an almost continuous curve, at right angles to which
extend the body and tail, resembling the handle of the crescentic
cutting-knife used in several trades, while the wings represent the
blade. The mode of flight of the two birds is also unlike, that of
the Swift being much more steady, and, rapid as it is, ordinarily
free from jerks. The whole plumage, except a greyish-white patch
under the chin, is a sooty black, but glossy above. Though its
actual breeding-places are by no means numerous, its extraordinary
speed and discursive habits make the tlwift widely distributed ;
and throughout England scarcely a sumner's day passes without
its being -seen in most places. A larger species, C. mclba or
C." alpinus, with the lower parts dusky white, which has its homo
in many of the mountainous parts of central and southern Europe,
has several times been observed in Britain, and two examples of a
species of a very distinct genus, Acanthyllis (or Chxtura), which
has its home in northern Asia, but regularly emigrates thence to
Australia, have been obtained in England [froc. Zool. Society, 1880,
D. 1).'
Among other peculiarities the Swifts, as long ago described
^probably from John Hunter's notes) by Home (Phil. rraiw.jlSl?,
pp. 332 et scqq., pi. xvi.), are remarkable for the development of
their salivary glands, the secretions of which serve in most species
to glue together the materials of which the nests are composed,
and in the species of the genus Collocalia form almost the whole
substance of the structure. These are the "edible" nests so
eagerly sought by Chinese epicures as an ingredient for soup, and
their composition, though announced many years since by Home
(irf supra), whose statement was confirmed by Bernstein {Act. Soe.
Sc. Indo-Nicrlaiulicee., iii. Art. 5, axiiJourn. fiir Ornitholoijie, 1859,
pp. 111-119), has of late been needlessly doubted in favour of th«
popular belief that they were made of some kind of sea-weed, .^/j*,
or other vegetable matter collected by the birds.' It may be hoped
that the examination and analysis made by Mr J. R. Green {Jour-
nal of Physiology, vi. pp. 40-45) have settled that question for all
time. ■ These remarkable nests consist essentially of mucus, secreted
by the salivary glands above mentioned, which dries and looks like
isinglass. Their marketable value depends on their colour and
purity, for they are often intermixed with feathers and other foreign
substances. The Swifts that construct these "edible" nests form
a genus Collocalia, of which the number of species is uncertain;
but they inhabit chiefly the islands of the Indian Ocean from the
north of Madagascar eastward, as well as many of the tropical
' This species, A. caudacuta, has been generally, hut Mr Hume says
{Stray Feathers, ix. p. 230) wrongly, identified with the Hirundo ci'ris
of Pallas. So many authors have recently ascribed the foundation of
the genus Chxtura to Stephens in the year 1825 that it may not bo
amiss to state that its origin dates only from 1826, the same year in
which Boie established the commensurate genus Acanthyllis.
- Hence one species has been called Collocalia /ucijjhac/a.
SWIFT
761
'8!aT^(^s ot the Pacific so ff>T as tlia Marquesas, — one species occur-
Hng in the hill-country of India. They breed in caves, to which
they resort in great numbers, and occupy them jointly and yet
alternately vrith Bats — the mammals being the lodgers by day and
the birds by night.'
The genus Cypselw, as noted by Willughby, •with its
American ally Panyptila, exhibits a form of pedal struc-
ture not otherwise observed among birds. Not onlj- is
the hind-toe constantly directed forwards, but the other
three coes depart from the rule which ordinarily governs
the number of phalanges in the Bird's foot, — a rule which
applies to even so ancient- a form as Archxopleryx (see
Birds, vofc-iii. p. 728), — and in the two Cypseline genera
just named the series of digital phalanges is 2, 3, 3, 3,
instead of 2, 3, 4, 6, which generally obtains ih the Class
Aves. Other Swifts, however, do not depart from the
normal arrangement, and the exception, remarkable as it
is, must not be taken as of more value than is needed for
the recognition of two sections or subgenera admitted
1% Mr Sclater in his monographical essay on the Family
{Proc. Zool. Society, 1865, pp. 593-617). There seem to
be about half a dozen good genera of Cypselidx, and from
fifty to sixty species. Their geographical distribution is
much the same as that of the Hirundinidx [of. Swallow,
%U siipra) ; but it should be always and most clearly borne
in mind that, though so like Swallows in many respects,
tiie Swifts have scarcely any part of their structure which
is not fornled on a different plan ; and, instead of any near
affinity existing between the two groups, it can scarcely
be doubted by any unprejudiced investigator that the
Cypselidx not only differ far more from the Hirundinidx
than the latter do from any other Family of Passeres, but
that they belong to what in the present state of ornitho-
logy must be deemed a distinct Order of Birds — that
which in the present series of articles has been called
Picariae. That the relations of the Cypudida to the
TreckUidm (cf. HuMMiNG-Bren, vol, xii. pp. 357 sq.) are
close, as has been asserted by L'Herminie and Nitzsch, Dr
Burmeister and Prof. Huxley, is denied by Dr Shufeldt
{Proc. Ziod. Society, 1885, pp. 886-914), but the views of
the last have since been controverted by Mr F. Lucas
{Auh, 1886, pp. 444-451). (a. n.)
SWIFT, Jonathan (1667-1745), dean of St Patrick's,
the greatest satirist of his own or perhaps of any age, was
bora in Hoey'a Court, Dublin, November 30, 1667. Like
Pope's, his family was of Yorkshire origin ; in the time of
Charles I. the representative of one branch had obtained
a peerage, which expired with him. The first of his own
immediate ancestors known to us was a clergyman, rector
of St Andrew's, Canterbury, from 1569 to 1592, whose son
succeeded him in that living, and whose grandson was the
Rev. Thomas Swift, vicar of Goodrich in Herefordshire,
renowned for his eccentricity, his mechanical ingenuity,
and, above all, his stubborn devotion to Charles I. and the
p-;rsecutions he underwent in consequence. Plundered
thirty-six times, and ultimately ejected from his living, he
iied in 1658, .'eaving his thirteen children a small and
greatly impoverished landed estate and the questionable
advantage of a substantial claim on the gratitude of the
restored sovereign. More fortunate than most ruined
cavaliers, his eldest son Godwin soon obtained the attorney-
generalship of the palatinate of Tipperary. This piece of
good fortune naturally attracted other members of the
family across the channel, — among them Jonathan, one of
the youngest of nine brothers, but already husband of
Abigail Ericke of Leicester, a lady of ancient descent and
means more limited than his own. A student of law, but
^ Mr H. Pryer has given one of the latest accounts of some of these
cues in North Borneo [Proc. Zool. Society, 1885, pp. 632-638), wliicl.
fuoj be read to arlvantvr ,
never called to the bar, Jonathan appears to have subsistecl
for some years on windfalls and casual employments. At
length (1665) he became steward of the King's Inns (an-
swering to the Inns of Court in England), an office of small
emolument. Two years afterwards he died suddenly,
leaving an infant daughter and a widow pregnant with the
future dean of St Patrick's. So embarrassed had his circum-
stances been that, although considerable debts were owing
to the estate, Mrs Swift was for the moment unable to pay
the expense of his interment. Thus Swift's first experience
of life was that of a dependant on the charity of his uncles,
more particularly of Godwin ; and the inevitable bitterness
of the situation was aggravated by the grudging manner
in which the Tipperary official seemed to dole out his
parsimonious help. In fact, the apparently prosperous
relative was the victim of unfortunate speculations, and
chose rather to be reproached with avarice than with im-
prudence. A virulent resentment became ingrained into
the youth's whole nature, and, though ultimately acquainted
with the real state of tha case, he never mentioned his
uncle with kindness or respect. Other relatives did more
to merit his regard. Yet he took no pride in his Irish
connexions or nativity, and a singular adventure in his
infancy seems to have afforded him a pretext for insinuat-
ing that he was really born in England. When he was
but two years old his nurse, a native of AVhitehaven,
was recalled to that town by an illness in her family. So
attached had she become to her charge as to clandes-
tinely carry him away with her. Mrs Swift was induced
to consent to his remaining with her for a time, and
the child spent three yeam in Cumberland. By his
return his education had made considerable progress, and
in the next year he was sent to the grammar school at
Kilkenny. There can be no question as to the author of
Gulliver having been a remarkable child, but unfortunately
only one anecdote of his school-days has been preserved.
It is the story, graphically narrated by himself, of his
having once invested the whole of his pocket-money in the
purchase of an old horse condemned to the knacker's yard,
his momentary triumph over his school-fellows, and his
mortification on discovering the usolessness of his acqui-
sition,— an anecdote highly characteristic of his daring
pride and ambition, and from which, instead of the moral
he professed to discover, he might have.^erived an auguij
of the majestic failure of his life.
In April 1682 Swift matriculated at Trinity College,
Dublin, where he failed to distinguish himself, " By
the ill-treatment of his nearest relations," he says, mean-
ing especially his uncle Godwin, " he was so discouraged
and sunk in his spirits that he too "much neglected liis
academic studies, for some part of -which he had no great
relish by nature ; so that when the time came for taking
his degree as bachelor of arts he was stopped of his
degree for dulness and insufficiency, and at last hardly
admitted in a manner little to his credit, which is called
in that college spedali graiia, February 15, 1685." The
college roll, nevertheless, shows that the only subject
in which Swift absolutely failed was natural philosophy,
including mathematics, in which the future author of the
Voyage to Laputa was hardly likely to excel, nor is it
surprising that a student of fitful and unruly temperament
should have performed his obligatory theme myligcnicr.
His examination in Greek and Latin was satisfactory, and
the extent of desultory information evinced by his writing!
seems to prove that ho had alwaj-s been an industriou*
reader. His mortification made him reckless, and he
repeatedly underwent academic censure during the ncxl
three years, though it is not certain whether some of iht
records supposed to apply to him do not in fact relate
to bis cousin Thoma&
9';_. -y
762
S W I 1^ T
In 1688 Swift quitted the university, and, after a'trief
residence with his mother at Leicester, entered the family
of Sir William Temple at. Moor Park, near Farnham, as he
declares for the advantage of Temple's conversation, but
Bit least partly as an amanuensis. A distant relationship
between his mother and 'Lady Temple appears to have
recommaLded him to this post, which he found try'ng to
his pride and independence. Temple was, as Swift ad-
mitted, "a man of sense and virtue." but his temper was
exclusTve, his manners formal, and he had retired from
public affairs from self-regard and over-fastidiousness. If
he solaced his voluntary ostracism by a coranarison with
the ele_gant retirement and lettered ease of Cicero, it did
not therefore occur to him to compare his obscure Irish
secretary ■with the Roman orator's amanuensis Tiro, who
had, at least, invented shorthand. We. who know that
in the patron's place the dependant would have governed
the nation, need not be surprised at finding, full twenty
years afterwards, the iron of servitude still rankling in the
latter's haughty soul. He withdrew from Temple's service
on a pretext of ill health from May 1690 to August 1691,
but returned, and undoubtedly made himself useful to his
employer, who on one occasion rendered him the medium
of a confidential communication to King William, who had
consulted Temple on the bill for triennial parliaments, then
sanctioned by both branches of the legislature.- Swift did
his best to enforce Temple's arguments in favour of the
measure, and was in after life wont to refer to the failure
of his rhetoric as the most useful lesson his vanity had
ever received. Struck, it would seem, rather ■ by the
physical than the mental endowments of the robust young
Irishman, 'William offered him a troop of horse, a proposal
which appears to have been subsequently commuted into a
promise of church preferment. Swift had already (July
1692) proceeded to the degree of M.A. at Oxford, and the
execution of his design to embrace the ecclesiastical pro-
fession was hastened by a quarrel with Temple, occasioned
by the latter's reluctance to contract any definite engage-
ment to provide for him. Throwing up his employment,
he passed (May 1694) over into Ireland, but found his
'views Impeded by the refusal of all the bishops to ordain
him without some certificate of the regularity of his deport-
ment while in Temple's family. Five months passed ere
lie could bring himself to solicit this favour from his old
patron, which he ultimately did in a letter submissive in
appearance, but charged to the full with smothered rago
and intense humiliation. Forgiveness was easy to one in
'feniple's place and of Temple's disposition, and he not
only despatched the requisite testimonials, but added a
recommendation which obtained for Swift the living of
Kilroot, in the diocese of Down and Connor (January
1695). His residence here was not fated to be of long
duration. Temple, who knew his value and had not parted
with him willingly, soon let him understand that a return
was open to him, and Swift,- whose resentment was cooled
by time, and soothed by the ackn- wledgment of his value
to his patron, readily complied (May 1696). He continued
to reside with Sir William til) the latter's death in January
1690. No further disagreement troubled their intimacy,
femd Temple bequeathed Swift the charge of editing his
Jfritings, a laborious but not an unprofitable commission.
Macaulay has justly indicated the familiarity with public
affairs acquired by Swift at INIoor Park as one main cause
of his subsequent distinction as a politician, and here too
he laid the foundation of his literary renown. He is
reported to have read regularly fbr eight hours every day ;
and we have his own authority for his having, as early as
1691, "written and burned, and written again, more on
all manner of subjects than perhaps any man in England."
The only relics of these early days, however, belong to a
species of composition in which he was little qualified to
excel He has, indeed, a name among the poets of Eng-
land, but the merit of his verse is usually in the ratio of
its approach to the sermo pedestris. Mistaking the nature
of his powers, he must needs begin with Pindarics, and the
result may be imagined. Yet his own simple account of
his feelings while endeavouring composition proves that
the mood was right though the channel was wrong, and
that there was error as well as truth in his kinsman
Dryden's severe and unforgiven remark, " Cousin Swift,
you will never be a poet." Swift's first prose composi-
tion betrayed his resentment. In the Battle of the Books
(1697), a satirical contribution to the controversy on tha
comparative merits of the ancients and the moderns raised
by Perrault, but with especial reference to the questiou^f
the genuineness of the letters of Phalaris, on which his
patron Temple had taken the wrong side. Swift for the
first and last time committed a plagiarism, and sought to
conceal it by an untruth. It is undoubtedly adapted, ,
though certainly improved from, De Calliferes's Ilistoire
Poctique de la Guerre nouvellement declaree entre les An-
ciens et les Modernes. Here also hissarcasm joiLJthfi-fiilst
and^last time recoiled iy)0tt. bimsejf. The satire against
Drydeu and Bentley wants, indeed, nothing but truth to be
excellent; but the pictures of the former in his monstrous
helmet and the latter in his patchwork mail yield in
judicrousness to the idea of the author of the Pindaric Odes
presuming to ridicule the author of Absalom and Achito-
phel, and ihe inglorious student of Trinity College, Dublin,
challenging the first philologist of the age on a question of
classical scholarship. It is, however, to his credit that his
learning was greater than that of the other writers on his
side and his pretensions less. Swift's next literary labour
WEts his edition of Temple's posthumous works, already r-^.J,
mentioned. They appeared with a dedication to King
William, which was to have made the editor a prebendary. "A
A petition to tliis effect miscarried, as ho always believed,
through the negligence or ill-will of the nobleman who
undertook to present it. Be this as it may, he had
become too important to be overlooked, and soon obtained
the post of secretary and chaplain to Earl Berkeley, one
of the lords justices of Ireland. The better half 'of this
appointment, however, escaped him on his arrival in that
country, his secretaryship being transferred to a Mr Bushe,
who, when Lord Berkeley had at length an opportunity
of recompensing Swift's disappointment by the gift of
the deanery of Derry, successfully .exerted his influence
in favour of another clergyman, who is asserted to have
gained his interest by the judicious outlay of a thousand
pounds. With . bitter indignation Swift threw up his
chaplaincy, but was ultimately reconciled to his patron by
the presentation to the rectory of Agher, in Meath, with
the united vicarages of Laracor and Rathbeggan. For the'Tjl
first time in his life he might now call himself his own |\
master, and had an opportunity of exhibiting, free irom
suspicion of external constraint, that stern regard to duty
which was not the least prominent feature of his character.
In an age of general laxity — in a priest of an alien church,
whoso most energetic ser\ ants commonly succumbed to the
mortifying conviction of their uselessness and the detesta-
tion they excited among the people for whom they laboured,
the parishioners of Laracor found a clergyman whn.m
they might have hoard three times a week. The energy,
howover, which probably gained the re.?pect, certainly
failed to influence the "convictions, of his Catholic flock.
Wo have his own authority for reckoning his average
congregation at "half a score"; and on one occasion his
clerk Roger was his only auditor. In fact, his exertions in
the pulpit were more meritorious than his achievements ;
he entirely lacked the fire, the self-oblivion, the expansive
(S^'i^V'
S W i F T
763
geniality of the orator. He himself characterized his
.discourses as "pamphlets," and, if meant to imply their
arid and argumentative character, the criticism is just.
The author of the Tale of a Tub, which he had had by
him since 1G96 or 1698, must have felt conscious of pov^ers
capable of far more effective exercise ; and his resolution
to exchange divinity for politics must appear fully justified
ou a comparison of these inconclusive essays with another
performance of the same period. The Discourse on tlie
Dissensions in Athens and Rome (September 1700), written
IIP the Whig interest, "without humour and without
Batire," and intended as a dissuasive from the pending im-
peachment of Somers and three other noblemen, received
the honour, extraordinary for the maiden publication of
a young politician, of being generally attributed to Somers
himself or to Burnet, the latter of whom found a public
disavowal necessary. Three years and a half later
appeared a more remarkable work. Clearness, cogency,
masculine simplicity of diction, are conspicuous in the
pamphlet, but true creative power told the Tale of a Tub.
" Good God ! what a genius I had when I wrote that
book I " was his own exclamation in his latter years. It
ia, indeed, if not the most amusing of Swift's satirical
works, the most strikingly original, and the one in which
the compass of his powers is most fully displayed. In his
kindred productions he relies mainly upon a single element
of the humorous, — logical sequence and unruffled gravity
Ibridling in an otherwise frantic absurdity, and investing
it with an air of sense. In the Tale of a Tub he lashes
lout in all directions. The humour, if less cogent and
cumulative, Ls richer and more varied ; the invention too,
lb more daringly original and more completely out of the
reach of ordinary faculties. The supernatural coats and
the quintessential loaf may be paralleled but cannot be
surpassed ; and the book is throughout a mine of suggest
(tiveness, as, for example, in the anticipation of Carlyle's
jclothes philosophy within the compass of a few lines. At
the same time it wants unity and coherence, it attains no
conclusion, and the author abuses his digressive method
of composition and his convenient fiction of hiatuses in
the original manuscript. The charges it occsaioned of
profanity and irreverence were natural, but groundless.
/There is nothing in the book inconsistent with Swift's
j professed and real character as a sturdy Church of Eiig-
I land parson, who accepted the doctrines of his church
as an essential constituent of the social order around him,
battled for them with the fidelity of a soldier defending
his colours, and held it no part of his duty to understand,
interpret, or assimilate them.
Before the publication of the Tale of a Tub, Swift had
taken a step destined to exercise a most important influence
on his life, by inviting two ladies to Laracor. Esther
Johnson, a dependant of Sir William Temple's (born in
March 1681), whose acquaintance he had made in the
latter's family, and whom ho has immortalized as " Stella," '
came over with her chaperon, Mrs Dingley, and was soon
permanently domiciled in his neighbourhood. The melan-
choly tale of Swift's attachment will be more conveniently
narrated in another place, and is only alluded to here for
the sake of chronology. Meanwhile the sphere of his
intimacies was rapidly widening. Ho had been in England
I for three years together, 1701 to 1701, and counted I'opo,
Steele, and Addison among his friends. The success of
his pamphlet gained him ready access to all Whig circles ;
' Tho name " Stella " ia simply a translation of Esther. Sivift ni«y
h»Te leamnd that Esther means " star " from tho IClemmCa Linipim
Persicm of John Greaves or from eomo Persian scholar ; but ho ia
more lilcely to have seen tho etymology in tlio foi in given from Jewish
eonrcea in Buxtorf s Lexicon, where the interj^rotation takea tho more
tfcggestive form "Stella Vonoris."
bu/ already his confidence in that party was shaken, and
he was beginning to meditate that change of sides whici]
has drawn down upon him so much but such unjustifiable
obloquy. The true state of the case may easily be collected
from his next -publications— TVie Sentiments of a Church of
England Man, and On the Reasonableness of a Test (1708).
Tho vital differences among the friends of the Hanover
succession were not political, but ecclesiastical. From this
point of view. Swift's sympathies were entirely with the
Tories. As a minister of the church he felt his duty and
his interest equally concerned in the support of her cause ;
nor could he fail to discover the inevitable tendency ol
Whig doctrines, whatever caresses individual Whigs might
bestow on individual clergymen, to abase the Establish.^
ment as a corporation. He sincerely believed that the
ultimate purpose of freethinkers was to escape ivowi
moral restraints, and he had an unreasoning antipathy
to Scotch Presbyterians and English Dissenters. One
of his pamphlets, written about this time, contains his
recipe for the promotion of religion, and is of itself a
sufficient testimony to the extreme materialism of his
views. Censorships and penalties are among the means
he recommends. His pen was exerted to better purpose
in the most consummate example of his irony, the Argu-
ment against Abolishing Christianity. About this time,
too (November 1707), he produced his best poem, Bavcis
and Philemon, which, as he frankly tells us, owes very
much to the corrections of Addison.
From February 1708 to April 1709 Swift was in
Londoil, urging upon the Godolphin administration the
claims of the Irish clergy to the first-fruits and tenth)
("Queen Anne's bounty"), already granted to theii
brethren in England. His having been selected for such
a commission shows that he was not yet regarded as a
deserter from the Whigs, although the ill-success of his
representations probably helped to make him one. By
November 1710 he was again domiciled in London, and
writing his Journal to Stella, that unique exemplar of a
giant's playfulness, " which was written for one person's
private pleasure and has had indestructible attractiveness
for every one since." In the first pages of this raarvfil-
lously minute record of a busy life we find him depicting
the decline of Whig credit and complaining of the cold
reception accorded him by Godolphin, whoso penetration
had doubtless detected the precariousness of his allegiance.
Within a few weeks he had become the lampooner of the
fallen treasurer, the bosom friend of Oxford and Boling-
broke, and the writer of the Examiner, a journal estab-
lished as the exponent of Tory views (November 1710).
He was now a power in the state, the intimate friend and
recognized equal of the first writers of the day, the asso-
ciate of ministers on a footing of perfect cordiality and
familiarity. "Wo were determined to have you," said
Bolingbroke to him afterwards ; " you were the only ono
we were afraid of." He gained his point respecting tho
Irish endowments ; and, by his own account, his credit
procured the fortune o£ moro than forty deserving or un-
deserving clients. Tho envious but graphic description of
his demeanour conveyed to us by lJit:hop Kennet attests
tho real dignity of his position no less than the airs ho
thought fit to assume in consequence. The cheerful,
almost jovial, tone of^his letters to Stella evinces his full
contentment, nor was ho ono to be moved to platitude for
small mercies. He had it, in fact, fully in his own power
to determine his relations with the ministry, and ho would
be satisfied with nothing short of familiar and ostentatious
equality His advent marks a new era in English political
life, tho ago of public opinion, created indeed by tho
circumstances of the time, but powerfully fostered and
accelerated by him. By a strange but not unfraquent
764
SWIFT
Swift
mads
dean
ofSt
irony of fate the most imperious and despotic spirit of his
day laboured to enthrone a power which, had he himself
been in authority, he would have utterly detested and
despised. For a brief time he seemed to resume the whole
power of the English press in his own pen and to guide
public opinion as he would. His services to his party as
writer of the Examiner, which he quitted in July 1711,
jWere even surpassed by those which he rendered as the
author of telling pamphlets, among which The Conduct of
the AIV4S and Reraarks on the Barrier Treaty (November
and December 1711) hold the first rank. In truth, how-
ever, he was Jifted by the wave he seemed to command.
Surfeited with glory, the nation wanted a convenient ex-
cuse for relinquishing a burdensome war, which the great
military genius of the age was suspected of prolonging
to fill his pockets. The Whigs had been long in office.
The High Church party had derived great strength from
the Sacheverell trial. Swift did not bring about the
revolution with which, notwithstanding, ho associated his
name. There seems no reason to suppose that he was
consulted respecting the great Tory strokes of the crea-
tion of the twelve new peers and the dismissal of Marl-
borough (December 1711), but they would hardly have
been ventured upon if The Conduct of the Allies and the
Examiners had not prepared the way. A scarcely less
important service was rendered to the ministry by his
Letter to the October Club, artfully composed to soothe the
impatience of Harley's extreme followers. He had every
claim to the highest preferment that ministers could give
him, but his own pride and preju4ice in high places stood
in his way.
Generous men like O.^ord and Bolingbroke cannot have
been unwilling to reward so serviceable a friend, especially
when their own interest lay in keeping him in England.
Pabick's- Notwithstanding, therefore, some dubious expressions in
faU o£ Swift's letters, natural to the deferred hope, we need not
the Tory doubt their having actually used their best efforts to obtain
''''"^'^'^'' for him the vacant see of Hereford. Swift, however, had
formidable antagonists in the archbishop of York, whom he
had scandalized, and the duchess of Somerset, whom he had
satirized. Anne was particularly amenable to the influence
of priestly and female favourites, and it must be considered
a proof of the strong interest made for Swift that she was
eventually persuaded to appoint him to the deanery of St
Patrick's, Dublin, vacant by the removal of Bishop Sterne
to Dromore. It is to his honour that he never speaks of
the queen with resentment or bitterness. In June 1713
he set out to take possession of his dignity, and en-
countered a very cold reception from the Dublin public.
The dissensions between the chiefs of his party speedily
recalled him to England. He found affairs in a desperate
condition. The queen's demise was evidently at hand,
and the same instinctive good sense which had ranged the
nation on the side of the Tories, when Tories alone could
terminate a fatiguing war, rendered it Whig when Tories
manifestly could not be trusted to maintain the Protestant
succession. In any event the occupants of office could
merely have had the choice of risking their heads in an
attempt to exclude the elector of Hanover, or of waiting
patiently till he should come and eject them from their
posts ; yet they might have remained formidable could
they have remained united. To the indignation with
which he regarded Oxford's refusal to advance him in the
peerage the active St John added an old disgust at the
treasurer's pedantic and dilatory formalism, as well as his
evident propensity, while leaving his colleague the fatigues,
to engross for himself the chief credit of the administra-
tion. Their schemes of policy diverged as widely as their
characters : Bolingbroke's brain teemed with the wildest
plans, which Oxford might have more effectually dis-
countenanced had he been prepared with anything in tlieir
place. Swift's endeavours after an accommodation were
as fruitless as unremitting. His mortification was little
likely to temper the habitual virulence of his pen, which
rarely produced anything more acrimonious than the
attacks he at this period directed against Burnet and his
former friend Steele. One of his pamphlets against the
latter {The Public Spirit of the W7tir/s) was near involving
him in a prosecution, some invectives against the Scots
having proved so exasperating to the peers of that nation
that they repaired in a body to the queen to demand tho
punishment of the author, of whose identity there could
be no doubt, although, like all Swift's writings, except tho
Proposal for the Extension of Relir/ion, the pamphlet had
been published anonymously. The immediate withdrawal
of the offensive passage, and a sham prosecution instituted
against the printer, extricated Swift from his danger.
Meanwhile the crisis had arrived, and the discord of
Oxford and Bolingbroke had become patent to all the
nation. Foreseeing, as is probable, the impending fall of
the former. Swift retired to Upper Letcombe, in Berkshire^
and there spent some weeks in the strictest seclusiooj
This leisure was occupied in the comi^osition of his lemark-
able pamphlet. Free Thoughts on the State of Public A fairs,
which indicates his complete conversion to the bold policy
of Bolingbroke. The utter exclusion of TMiigs as well asj
Dissenters from office, the remodelling of the arm)', tho
imposition of the most rigid restraints on the heir to the
throne, — such were the measures which, by recommending,
Swift tacitly admitted to be necessary to the triumph of
his party. If he were serious, it can onl)- be said that the
desperation of his circumstances had momentarily troubled
the lucidity of his understanding ; if the pamphlet were
merely intended as a feeler after public opinion, it is
surprising that he did not perceive how irretrievably he
was ruining his friends in the eyes of all moderate men.'
Bolingbroke's daring spirit, however, recoiled from no
extreme, and, fortunately for Swift, he added so much of
his own to the latter's MS. that the author was obliged to
recall a production which might not improbably have cost
him his liberty and his deanery. This incident but just
anticipated the revolution which, after Bolingbroke had
enjoyed a three days' triumph over Oxford, drove him
into exile and prostrated his party, but enabled Swift to
perform the noblest action of his life. Almost the first
acts of Bolingbroke's ephemeral premiership were to order
him a thou.sand pounds from the exchequer and despatch
him the most flattering invitations. The same post
brought a letter from Oxford, soliciting Swift's company
in his retirement ; and, to the latter's immortal honour, he
hesitated not an instant in preferring the solace of his
friend to the offers of St John. When, a few days after-
wards, Oxford was in prison and in danger of his life,
Swift iegged to share his captivity ; and it was only on
the offer being declined that he finally directed his steps
towards Ireland, where he was very ill received. The
draft on the exchequer was intercepted by the queen's
death.
These four busy years of Swift's London life had not
been entirely engrossed by politics. First as the associate
of Steele, with whom he quarrelled, and of Addison, whose
esteem for him survived all differences, afterwards as the
intimate comrade of Pope and Arbuthnot, the friend ofi
Congreve and Atterbury, ^Parnell and Gay, he entered
deeply into the literary life of the period. He was trea-
surer and a leading member of the Brothers, a society
of wits and statesmen which recalls tho days of Horace
and Maecenas. He promoted the subscription for Pope's
Homer, contributed some numbers to the Tatln; Spectator,'
and Intelligencer, and joined with Pope and Arbuthnot' in
s w I !'• r
765
establishing the Scribleius Club, writing Martoms Scrih-
lenis, his share in wliicb can have been but small, as well
as Johii Bull, where the chapter recommending the educa-
tion of all blue-eyed children in depravity for the public
good must surely be his. His fugitive productions during
this period arc veiy numerou>>, and mostly distinguished
not only by pungent wit but Joy overflowing animal spirits.
The most celebrated are the cruel but irresistibly ludicrous
satires on the astrologer Partridge, a man in fact respect-
able for his sincere belief in his art, and no luean writer.
Many of his best poems belong to this period. A more
laboured work, his .Ue/iioiial to Harley, proposing the
regulation of the English language by an academy, is
chiefly remarkable as a proof of the deference paid to
French taste by the most original English writer of his
day. His History of the Las' Four Years of Quten Anne is
not on a level with his other political writings. To sum
up the incidents of this eventful period of his life, it was
during it that he lost his mother, always loved and dutifully
honoured, by death ; his sister had been estranged from
him some years before by an imprudent marriage, which,
. tiough making her a liberal allowance, he never forgave.
The change from London to Dublin can seldom be an
agreeable one. To Swift it meant for the time the fall
from unique authority to absolute insignificance All
■ share in the administration of even frish affairs was de-
nied him ; every politician shunned him ; and his society
hardly included a single author or wit. At a later period
he talked of "dying of rage, like a poisoned rat in a
hole"; for some time, however, he was buoyed up by
feeble hopes of a restoration to England. So late as 1726
he was in England making overtures to Walpolc, but he
had no claim on ministerial goodwill, and as an opponent
he had by that time done his worst. By an especial
cruelty of fate, v/hat should have been the comfort became
the bane of his existence. We have already mentioned his
iinvitation of Esther Johnson and Mrs Dingley to Ireland.
Both before and after his elevation to the deanery of St
Patrick's these ladies continued to reside near him, and
superintended his household during his absence in London.
He had frustrated a match proposed for Stella, and, with
his evident delight in the society of the dark-haired, bright-
eyed, witty beauty, a model, if we may take his word, of
all that woman should be, it eeemed unaccountable that he
did not secure it to himself by the expedient of matrimony.
A constitutional infirmity has been suggested as the reason,
and the conjecture derives support from several peculiarities
in his writings. But, whatever the cause, his conduct
proved none the less the fatal embitterment of his life and
Stella's and yet another's. He had always been unlucky
in his relations with the fair sex. In IGD-ihe had idealized
AS " Varina " a Miss Waring, who then discouraged his
attentions, but two years later made him advances in her
turn. Swift's mind had also changed, and ho could find
no better way out of the difficulty than an insulting letter
affecting to accept her proposal on terms which ho knew
> must put it out 6f the question. Varina was avenged by
Vanessa, who pursued Swift to far other purpose. Esther
Vanhomrigh, the orphan daughter of a commissioner of
Irish trade, had become known to Swift at the height of
his political influence. He lodged close to her mother, and
was a frequent guest at her table. A'anessa in.sonsibly
became his pupil, and ho insensibly became the object of
her impassioned affection. Her letters reveal a spirit full
of ardour and enthusiasm, and warped by that perverse
bent which leads so many women to prefer a tyrant to
a companion. Swift, on the other hand, was devoid of
passion. Of fricjidship, even of tender regard, he was
fully capable, but not of love. The. spiritual realm,
whether in iiviue or earthly things, was a region closed td'
him, where he never set. foof." 'As a friend ho must have
greatly preferred Stella to Vanessa ; and from this point of
view his loyalty to the original, object of liis' choice, wc
may be sure, never faltered. But Vanessa assailed him on
a very weak side. The strongest of all his instincts was
the thirst for imperious domination. Vanessa hugged
the fetters to which Stella merely submitted. Flattered
to excess by her surrender,, yet conscious of his binding
obligations and his real preference, he could neither discard
the one beauty nor desert the other. It is humiliating to
human strength and consolin" to human weakness to find
the Titan behaving like the least resolutt of mortals, seek-
ing refuge in temporizing, in evasion, in fortuitous circum-
stance. He no doHbt trusted that his removal to Dublin
would bring relief, but here again his evil star interposed.'
Vanessa's mother died (1714), and she followed him.'
Unable to marry Stella without destroying Vanessa, or to
openly welcome Vanessa without destroying Stella, he was
thus involved in the most miserable embarrassment ; still,'
for a time he continued to temiiorize. At length, unable
to bear any more Stella's mute reproach 'and his own
consciousness of wrong, he gave a reluctant consent to a
Ijrivate marriage, which, as at least the weight of tcstir'iny
seems to prove, though there is no documentary evidence,
was accordingly performed. This was in 1(16. At the
same time he insisted on their union being kept a strict
secret, justifying a demand really dictated by tenderness
for Vanessa, and perhaps by the unavowable reason to
which allusion har. been made, on the most futile apd
frivolous pretexts. Never more than a nominal wife,
the unfortunate Stella commonly passed for his mistress
till the day of her death, bearing her doom with uncom-
plaining resignation, and con.soled in some, degree , by
unquestionable proofs of the permanence of his love, if his
feeling for her deserves the name. Meanwhile his efforts
were directed to soothe Miss VanhomrigH, to whom he
addressed Cadenus [Decanns] and Vayiessa, the history
of their attachment and the best example of his serious
poetry, and for whom ho sought to provide honourably in
marriage, without either succeeding in his immediate aim
or in thereby opening her eyes to the hopelessness of her
jiassion. In 1717, probably at his instance, she retired
from Dublin to Marlcy Abbey, her seat at Celbridge. For
three years she and Swift remained apart, but in 1720, on
what occasion is uncertain, he began to pay her regular
visits. Sir Walter Scott found the Abbey garden still full
of laurels, several of which she was accustomed to plant
whenever she expected Swift, and the tabic at which theiy
had been used to sit was still shown. Bui the catastrophe
of her tragedy was at hand. Worn out; with his evasions,
she at last (1723) took the desperate stop of writing to
Stella, or according to auothor account to Swift himseif,
demanding to know the nature of the connexion with
him, and this terminated the melancholy history as witi
a clap of thunder. Stella replied by the avowal of hor
marriage, sent her rival's letter to Swift, and retircd-to a
friend's house. Swift rode down to Marley Abbey with
a terrible countenance, petrified Vanessa by his frown,
and departed without a word, flinging down a paoklit
which only contained her own letter to Stella. Vanessa
died within a few weeks. She left the poem and _oorre-
spondcnce for publication. The former appeared imme-
diat<;ly, the latter was suppressed until it- was published
by Sir Walter Scott.
Five years afterwards SteUa followed Vanessa to the
grave. The grief which the gradual decay of her health
evidently occasioned Swift is sufficient proof of the siu-
cerity of his attachment, as he understood it. It is a just
remark of Thackeray's that ho ovcrywhoro half consciouaiy
.recognizes her as hia bettor ourcI, ond dwells on her wit
766
SWIFT
And her tenderness with a fondness he never exhibits for
'any other topic. Yet he could never overcome his repug-
inance to acknowledge their union till she lay on her death-
Tjed, when he was hoard by Mrs AVhiteway (his cousin, a
llady of fortune and talent, who, though not residing with
Ihim, superintended his household during his latter j'ears)
|to say, " Well my dear, if you wish it, it shall be owned."
She auswered, "It is too late." On January 28, 1728,
ishe died, and her wretched lover sat down the same night
(to record her virtues in language of unsurpassed simplicity,
ibut to us who know the story more significant for what it
conceals than for what it tells. A lock of her hair is
(preserved, with the inscription in Swift's handwriting,
most affecting in its apparent cynicism, " Only a woman's
'hair!" "Only a woman's hair," comments Thackeray;
:" only love, only fidelity, purity, innocence, beauty, only
the tenderest heart in the world stricken and wounded,
and passed away out of reach of pangs of hope deferred,
love insulted, and pitiless desertion ; only that lock of
hair left, and memory, and remorse, for the guilty, lonely
'Wretch, shuddering over the grave of his victim." The
more unanswerable this tremendous indictment appears
upon the evidence the greater the probability that the
evidence is incomplete. Tout coviprendt-e c'est tout par-
donner. The hypothesis to which we have referred must
for ever remain an hypothesis, but better than any other it
not only excuses but explains.
Between the death of Vane.^sa and tlie death of Stella,
Mpier s as though withheld by an evil fate until he could no longer
enjoy them, came the greatest political and the greatest
literary triumph of Svrift's life. He had fled to Ireland a
broken man, to all appearance politically extinct; a few
years were to raise him once more to the summit of popu-
larity, though power was for ever denied him. With his
fierce hatred of what he recognized as injustice, it was
impossible that he should not feel exasperated at the gross
misgovernment of Ireland for the supposed benefit of
England, the systematic exclusion of Irishmen from places
of honour and profit, the spoliation of the country by
absentee landlords, the deliberate discouragement of Irish
trade and manufactures An Irish patriot in the strict
sense of the term he was not ; he looked upon the indi-
genous population as conquered savages ; but his pride
and sense of equity alike revolted against the stay-at-
home Englishmen's contemptuous treatment of their own
garrison, and he delighted in finding a point in which the
, triumphant faction was still vulneraljle. His Proposal for
the Universal Use of Irish Manufactures, published anony-
mously in 1720, urging the Irish to disuse English goods,
became the subject of a prosecution, which at length had
to be dropped. A greater opportunity was at hand. One
of the chief wants of Ireland in that day, and for many a
day afterwards, was that of small currency adapted to the
daily transactions of life. Questions of coinage occupy
a large part of the correspondence of the primate. Arch-
bishop Boulter, whose anxiety to deal rightly with the
matter is evidently very real and conscientious. There
is no reason to think that the English ministry wished
otherwise ; but secret influences were at work, and a
patent for supplying Ireland with a coinage of copper
halfpence was accorded to William Wood on such terms
that- the profit accruing from the difierence between the
intrinsic and the nominal value of the coins, about 40 per
cent., was mainly divided between him and the duchess
of Kendal, the king's mistress, by whose influence he had
obtained the privilege. Swift now had his opportunity,
and the famous letters signed M. B. Drapier (1724) soon
set Ireland in a flame. Every effort was used to dis-
cover, or rather to obtain legal evidence against, the
author, whom, Walpola was assured, it would then have
taken ten thousand men to apprehe&d. None could bA
procured ; the public passion swept everything before it J
the patent was cancelled ; Wood was compensated by a
pension ; S\rift was raised to a height of popularity which
he retained for the rest of his life ; and the only real
sufferers were tTie Irish people, who lost a convenience so
badly needed that they might well have afforded to con-
nive at Wood's illicit profito. Perhaps, however, it was
worth wliilc to teach the English ministry that not every-
thing could be done in Ireland. Swift's pamphlets, written
in a style more level with the popular intelligence than
even his own ordinary manner, are models alike to the
controversialist who aids a good cause and to him who is
burdened with a bad one. The former ma^' profit by the
study of his marvellous lucidit)' and vehemence, the latter
by his sublime audacity in exaggeration and the sophistry'
with which he involves the innocent halfpence in the
obloquy of the nefarious patentee.
The noise of the Drapier's letters had hardly died away
when Swift acquired a more durable glory by the publica-
tion of Gulliver's Travels in 1726. The work had been
at least partly written by 1722, and the keenness of the
satire on courts and statesmen suggests that it was planned
while Soft's disappointments as a public man were still
rankling and recent. It is Swift's peculiar good fortune
that his book can dispense with the interpretation of which
it is nevertheless susceptible, and may be equally enjoyed
whether its inner meaning is apprehended or not. It is so
true, so entirely based upon the facts of human nature,
that "the question what particular class of persons sup-
plied the author with his examples of folly or misdoing,
however interesting to the commentator, may be neglected
by the reader. It is also fortunate for him that in three
parts out of the four he should have entirely missed " the
chief end I propose to myself, to vex the world rather
than divert it." The world, which perhaps ought to have
been vexed, chose rather to be diverted ; and the great
satirist literally strains his powers ut pueris placeat. Few
books have added so much to the innocent mirth of man-
kind as the first two parts of Gulliver ; the misanthropy
is quite overpowered by the fun. The third part, equally'
masterly in composition, is less felicitous in invention;
and in the fourth Swift has indeed carried out his design
of vexing the world at his own cost. Human nature
indignantly rejects her portrait in the Yahoo as a gross
libel, and the protest is fully warranted. An intelligence
from a superior sphere, bound on a voyage to the earth,
might actually have obtained a fair idea of average
humanity by a preliminary call at LiUiput or Brobdingnag,
but not from a visit to the Yahoos. While Gulliver \s
infinitely the most famous and popular of Swift's works,
it exhibits no greater powers of mind than many othera
The secret of success, here as elsewhere, is the writer's
marvellous imperturbability in paradox, his teeming imag-
ination, and his rigid logic. Grant his premises, and all
the rest follows; his world may be turned topsy-turvy,
but the relative situation of its contents is unchanged.
The pains he took to be correct are evinced by the care i
with which, as Prof. De Morgan has shown, he calcu-
lated the proportions of LiUiput and Brobdingnag to
ordinary humanity on the basis of 1 to 12 and 12 to 1
respectively, and his copying the description of the storm
word for word from Sturm^s Compleat Mariner. By such
accuracy and consistency he has given the ^viidest fiction
imaginable an air of veracity rivalling Defoe. ,
Swift's grave humour and power of enforcing momentous
truth by ludicrous exaggeration were next displayed in his
Modest Proposal for Preventing the Children of Poor Peopk
in Ireland from Being a Burden to their Parents, by fat^ii-'
ing and eating them (1729), a parallel to the Argufnati
S W I F T
767
fiffaitifi AboHshinfi Chrislianity, and as great a rnastei-pioce
pf tragic as the latter is of comic irony. The Directions to
Servants in like mauner derive their overpowering comic
force from the imperturbable solemnity with which all the
misdemeanours that domestics can commit are enjoined
upon them as duties. The power of minute observation
(displayed is most remarkable, as also in Polite Conuersa-
tion (written in 1731, published in 1738), a surprising
assemblage of the vulgarities and trivialities current in
Ordinary talk. As in the Directions, the satire, though
cutting, is good-natured, and the piece shows more animal
spirits than usual in Swift's latter years. It was a last
flash of gaiety. The attacks of giddiness and deafness to
which he had always been liable increased upon him, and
bis literary compositions became confined to occasional
verses, not seldom indecent and commonly trivial, with the
exception of his remarkable lines on his own death and the
delightful Hamilton's Baton, and to sallies against the Irish
bishops, in whose honest endeavours, to raise the general
standard of their clergy he could only see .irbitrary inter-
Iference with individuals. He fiercely opposed Archbishop
"Boulter's plans *^or the reform of the Irish currency, but
admitted that his real objection was sentimental : the
coins should be struck as well as circulated in Ireland.
Bts exertions in repressing robbery and mendicancy were
strenuous and successful. His popularity remained as
great as ever, and, when he was menaced by the bully
Bettesworth, Dublin rose as one man to defend him. He
governed his cathedral with great strictness and conscien-
tiousness, and for years after Stella's death continued to
hold a miniature court at the deanery. But his failings
of mind were exacerbated by his bodily infirmities ; he
grew more and more whimsical and capricious, morbidly
suspicious and morbidly parsimonious ; old friends were
estranged or removed by death, and new friends did not
come forward in their place. For many years, neverthe-
less, he maintained a correspondence with Pope and Boling-
broke, and with Arbuthnot and Gay until their deaths,
with such warmth as to prove that an ill opinion of man-
kind had not made him a misanthrope, and that human
afiection and sympathy were still very necessary to him.
The letters become scarcer and scarcer with the decay of
his faculties ; at last, in 1740, comes one to his Isest
Dublin friend, Mrs Whitoway, of heart-rending pathos : —
"I have been very miserable all night, and to-day extremely
deai and full of pain. I am so stupid and coufoHndcd that I cannot
express the mortification I am under both of body and mind. AH
I can say is that I am not in torture ; but I daily and hourly
expect it. Pray let me know how your health is and your family :
I hardly understand one word I write. I am sure my days will be
very few ; few and miserable they must be. I am, for those few
days, yours entirely, — Jonathan Swift.
'"If I do not blunder, it is Saturday, July 26, 1740.
>"If I live till Monday I shall hope to see you, perhaps for the
•last time."
tnsanity In March 1742 it was necessary to appoint guardians
""^ of Swift's person and estate. In September of the same
year his physical malady reached a crisis, from which he
emerged a helpless wreck, with faculties paralysed rather
than destroyed. " Ho never talked nonsense or .said a
foolish thing." The particulars of his case have been
investigated by Dr Bucknill and Sir William Wilde, who
have proved that he suffered from nothing that could be
called mental derangement until the "labyrinthine vert-
igo" from which ho had suffered all his lifo, and which
he erroneously attributed to a .surfeit of fruit, produced
paraly.sis, " a symptom of which was the not uncommon
one of aphasia, or tho automatic utterance of words
ungoverned by intention. .As a consequence of that
paralysis, but not before, the brain, already weakened by
senile decay, at length gave way, and- Swift sank into
the dementia which preceded his death" (Ctajk, Lifo of
death.
Swift). Tho scene closed on October 19, 174.5. WitE
what he himself described as a satiric touch, his fortune
was bequeathed to found a hospital for idiots and lunatics.
He was interred in his cathedral, in tho same coffin as Stella,
with tho epitaph, written by himself, " llic dcpositum est
corpus Jonathan Swift, S.T.P., hujus ecclcsix cathcdralia
decani ; ubi sajva indignatio ultcrius cor lacerare ncquit.
Abi viator, et imitare, si poteris, strenuum pro.virili
libertatis vindicem."
The stress which Swift thus laid upon his character a"8
an assertor of liberty has hardly been ratified by posterity
which has 6omparatively neglected the patriot for th|
genius and the wit. Not unreasonably ; for if half hia
patriotism sprang from an instinctive hatred of oppres-
sion, the other half was disappointed egotism. He uttcrlj
lacked the ideal aspiration which the i)atriot should
possess : his hatred of villainy was far more intense than
his love of virtue. The same cramping realism clings tc
him everywhere beyond the domain of politics, — in his
religion, in his fancies, in his affections. At the same
time, it is the .secret of his wonderful concentration o^
power : he realizes everything with such intensity that he
cannot fail to be impressive. Except in his unsuccessful
essay in history, he never, after the mistake of his first
Pindaric attempts, strays beyond his sphere, never attcmiita
what he is not qualified to do, and never fails to do it.
His writings have not one literary fault except their occa»
sioual looseness of grammar and their frequent indoccnc/.
Within certain limits, his imagination and invention are aa
active as those of the most creative poets. As a master
of humour, irony, and invective he has no superior ; liia
reasoning powers aro no less remarkable within their range^
but he never gets beyond the range of an advocate. Few
men of so much mental force have had so little genius for
speculation, and he is constantly dominated by fierce in(
stincts which he mistakes for rea.sons. As a man the lead
ing note of his character is the same, — strength without
elevation. ' His master passion is imperious pride, — the
lust of despotic dominion. He would have his supcrioritj
acknowledged, and cared little for the rest. Place and
profit were comparatively indifferent to him; he declares
that he never received a farthing for any of his works
except Gulliver's Travels, and that only by Pope's manage*
ment ; and he had so little regard for literary fame that he
put his name to only one of his writings. Conttnii tuoui
of the opinion of his fellow.s, he hid hi.s virtues, paraded
his faults, affected some failings from which he was really
exempt, and, since his munificent charity could not be con-'
cealed from the recipients, laboured to spoil it by gratuitous
surliness. Judged by some passages of his life he would
appear a heartless egotist, and yet he was capable of tho
sincerest friendship and could never dispense with human
sympathy. Thus an object of pity as well as awe, he i?
the most tragic figure in our literature, — tho onlj' man of
his ago who could be conceived as affording a groundwork
for one of tlie creations of Sliakcs]:icarc. "To think of
him," says Thackeray, "is like thinking of the ruin of oi
great empire." Nothing finer or truer could bo said.
i&wift's correspondence is the best authority for his life Of liii
dontoinporai'ics, we are mainly indebted to his paiie^'yrist Ui'laiijf
and his detractor Lord Orrery. lIa\vkcs\vortli compiled lhr|i;irti-
culars of his lifo.and published wliat was tho Btnnda^l cJltioii of
his works till tho appearance of Sir Walter Scott's in 181*. Thin
edition is not likely to bo superseded, but ini>;ht with Rrmt aU-
vantage bo reissued with amenilinciits and additions. Tho bio;;ia-
phy iirefixed is based on Mawhcsworth, but is far move copiously
and elegantly written. At the same time the author's vi.-wa are
frequently conventional, his judgments KUpcrlicisI, and his ^tvA
nature has made liim too indulgent to his hero. The loto Julm
Forster subjected all available records of Swift's life to llio inoit
diligent scrutiny, and in 1875 published the lirst volume, coniijio
down to 1711, of a bi»Kraiiby intended to hovo boon coniplofrj
768'
S W I — S W T
m three volumes. Invaluable in jnany respects, it exhibited the
process as well as the result of biography, and hence threatened
to be too long. Mr H. Craik, succeeding to the post vacated by
Forsters death, judiciously reduced the scale, and produced in
one volume (18S2) a work which will long rank as the standard
one on the subject. Remarkable monographs on Swift have been
produced by Leslie Stephen in the " Men of Letters " series, Dr
^hnson in the Lives of the Poets, Thackeray in the English
Humourists. Mr Stephen is anxiously impartial ; Johnson's acute-
ness is perverted by his antipathy; Thackeray, as is natural in
a novelist, has dwelt disproportionately on the romantic side of
Swift's history, and his pity for Stella and Vanessa forms too large
an element in his general-judgment. But he has, better than any
one else, apprehended the fearfully tragic element in Swift's character
and fortunes. Swift's early life has been carefully investigated by
Dr Barrett of Trinity College, and the final epoch of his life by
Monck Mason and §ir WiUiam Wilde. His greatness is exaggerated
and his failings 'are extenuated in two brilliant articles in the
Qvarterly Review, vols. cli. and clvi. Minor points in his life and
writings have received much elucidation from numerous inquirers
especially the late Mr Charles Dilke and Colonel F. Grant. Mr
Stanley Lane Poole has edited selections from his works and cor-
respondence, with excellent notes and prefaces, .md has prepared
8 valuable bibliography. (r q \
SWIMMING AND DIVING. In the case of -man the
power of swimming is acquired, not natural. As com-
pared with the lower animals, to most of which it comes
perfectly easily, he is at a disadvantage in its acquisition,
owing not to his greater relative weight so much as to the
position of his centre of gravity, along with the fact that
in the case of quadrupeds the motions which serve to sup-
port and propel them in the water are very similar to those
of locomotion on land. No race of mankind, however, can
be mentioned to which the art is unknown, and in many
barbarous countries it is more widely diffused and carried
to greater perfection than amongst the civilized nations of
the world.
For learning to swim, a quiet sandy beach is the best
place, as sea water is more buoyant than fresh. All arti-
ficial aids, such as corks, air belts, cork jackets, inflated
bladders, and the like, may be avoided; they -raise some
parts of the body too high above and so sink others too
far below the natural plane of flotation, whereas the first
fundamental rule is that the mouth only should be above
water, and the legs close to the surface. Belts, Ac, are
also apt to become mispla(;ed and so cause trouhle and
annoyance as well as danger. It is best for beginners to
take some instruction from a practical teacher, though
many have become adepts by merely watching good per-
formers. Confidence in the floating power of the body is
the first thing to be acquired. The easiest way of floating
IS to he on the back (which should be slightly hollowed)
the arms being stretched out beyond the head but not lifted
out of the water; this attitude not only facilitates respira-
hon but counterbalances the weight of the lower limbs
The knees may be bent outward, the toes also pointing side-
ways, the hips rigid, so assisting to keep the legs up as close
as possible to the top of the water. By easy breathing one
wiU soon be convinced that, properly balanced and with
lungs kept charged, the body will assert its buoyancy.
To further enable him to realize that water is capable
of supporting the human body, the learner may adopt the
following plan. Walk down the steps of a bath, or alone
a shelving beach on a calm d-ay, into about 3 feet of water ■
turn and face the shallow place, and, having taken a breath,'
stoop dowTi and try to pick an egg or some similar object
(a handful of sand will suffice) from the bottom. Repeat
this several times leisurely, going farther out at each
venture, till the water reaches up to iaut not higher than
the middle of the chest. It will soon be found that the
object IS not 80 easy of recovery, and the beginner learns
that but httle exertion is required to keep the body afloat.
When this exRenence has been gained the novice should
eommenee with the Breast Stroke, which is nowadays some-
times unjustly set aside as the "old stroke." It is nea.
natural, and graceful enough, though necessarily the slowest,
from the great resistance of the chest to the water and the
fact that part of the arm stroke is negatived by its owii
movement. Like walking in pedestrianism, however, it
forms the groundwork of every other branch of the art,
and cannot safely be overlooked. The stroke is com-
menced by placing the hands with the backs upward, anii
the wrists bent so that the ringers -will point to the front,
the insides of the wrist-joints between arm and thumlvs
touching the breast not lower than 4 inches under watev.
Begin the stroke by pushing the arms gently forward to
their full extent, keeping the palms flat and the fingers
closed. Now turn the palms of both hands outward, and
make a strong stroke to the right and left by each arm
through an angle of 90°; in this part of the stroke the
two arms describe a semicircle, of which the head may be
termed the centre. It must be most distinctly borne in
mind that all depression of the hands will tend to raise
the body perpendicularly, whereas the only true position
in swimming is the horizontal, which propels it forward.
To complete the arm movement, bend the elbows back-
ward and inward, until they come close to (but not neces-
sarily touching) the sides of the body. Carry the hands
in a straight line edgeways to the position from which
they started in front of the chest. Simultaneously with
the stretching of the hands from the front of the body the
feet are struck out to the utmost width in a way cleft
for them by the toes. As the arms are being brought
round in the semicircular motion the lower limbs are
stiffened and brought firmly together by grasping the
water, so to speak, with the whole of the leg, more
especially between the knees, ankles, and soles and toes
of the feet. Whilst thus imparting forward motion to
the swimmer, they finish in a straight line behind the
body. Then, when the arms are bent, and the hands are
being brought to the front of the body, the knees are
turned outward, heels kept together, toes also turned out,
and the feet are carried up to the body and in this position
are once more ready for repeating the movements as de-
scribed. Beginners must be careful not to make the arm
movements quicker than those of the legs, and it must be
distinctly remembered that the latter are the great pro-
pellers. Unison of the movements as mentioned, and
regularity in each part of the stroke, are indispensable to
perfection. All hurry and excitement must be carefully
avoided, and every complete stroke and kick gone about
with mechanical precision and neatness. The only part
requiring strong muscular exertion being the closing of
the legs aft?r they have heen spread wide apart,— the one
strong propelling element,— every effort is to be m^de to
ensure correfctness and power in its performance.' The
arm movements should be easy and graceful, all jerkiness
or suddenness of motion being carefully avoided.
Breathing should be unrestrained and natural, without
gasping, sputtering, or short or sudden heavings. A safe
rule is to have a full breath at every stroke, its division
being regulated as follows. Blow slowly outward when
the first part of the arm movement is being performed, t.e.„
stretched out in front ; inspire as the hands are going out-
ward and round. Then, as the lungs are fully charged, no
effort is necessary to suspend respiration while the hands
are carried in to the front of the body again. This regu-
larity of breathing is essential to pleasure, comfort, and
gracefulness of action. The nostrils and air-passages should
always be thoroughly cleared, the mouth cleansed, and the
throat gargled before entering th« water.
Swimming on the Back is a pleasant and useful branch
of the art ; the chief requisite for its acquirement is con-
fidence. The tyro should begin practice in water reaching
s w
I M ]M I N G
769
up TO about the upper part of the chest, turn his back
elioreward, take a long breath, and lie gently backward in
the water, keeping the hands on the waist with the elbows
extended outward, the chest being expanded, and the
breath held. As one lies well ba'-k the feet will be lifted
g£f the ground ; they should then be spread outward as far
apart as possible, in the same position as when they are
'opened up in breast swimming. The body and legs are
tliiis lying extended at full length like the letter Y, the
legs forming the branches or fork. Now comes the pro-
pelling part of the movement. As in the front stroke,
the muscles are set, and the legs are by one strong motion
brought firmly and closely together. While this is being
done the toes, by a slight movement of the ankle, are
turned upward, and so, as the movement is finished, the
great toes, inner ankles, and inside of the whole leg meet.
This motion, strongly but not jerkily executed, sends the
body forward, and, when the impetus obtained is nearly — >
not quite — expended, the legs are bent, so that the feet
are drawn close up to the trunk, with the knees outward
and heels together. Tlie stroke is renewed by spreading
apart, closing again, and so on. The breath is exhaled
when spreading and closing the legs, and inhaled as
the feet are drawn up to the body. If greater speed is
wanted, the hands can be used as sculls by carrying them
outward from the body, but at the same time level with it,
palms facing downward. When the amis are sufficiently
extended to be in a line across from hand to hand, the
wrists are turned to allow of the palms of the hands fac-
ing toward the feet, thumbs upward. Elbows, wrists, and
liands are now firmly braced, and a strong pull towards the
legs is made. Tliis is the progressive motion, and should
be performed just as the legs are being closed.
Another style is to bend the elbows downward, so as to
allow of the hands being carried upward along the sides of
the body, thumbs inward, and palms facing the bottom
of the water. When the hands have been carried up to
the armpits they arc spread apart to the full extent of the
arms, and the jiroiielling part is performed as in the other
.method liy pulling strongly toward the legs.
A still more powerful stroke, and one used at competi-
tions, is accomplished by carrying the hands up to the
armpits, as described in last method ; then, turning the
wrist so as to allow of the palms of the hands facing up-
ward, point the fingers in the direction of progress, stretch
both arms as far as possible in a line with the body and
beyond the head, and turn the wrists half round, until the
hands are back to back, thumbs upward. The propelling
action is now performed by sweeping both hands outward
and round until they touch the legs and tlie arms are
onco more straight along the sides of the body. There is
a double kick in this style, and the action is as follows.
When the hands arc being carried up to the shoulder one
kick is delivered ; then as the arms are being carried beyond
the head the nether limbs are drawn up in position for
another kick, which is delivered as the arms are sweeping
down on the stroke. This is no mere ornamental stroke,
but combines in its |)ractico grace with power, and enables
tiie swimmer to move through the water at great .speed.
Another racing back stroke ia performed liy lifting
, hands and arms out of the water at the finish of the pull
downward, carrying them in the air, stretching them at
full length forward beyond the head, and then dipping
tbem into the water, executing the positive part of the
stroke as in the last-described method. In this stroke
there is only a single kick to each pull of the arni.s, the
legs being drawn up as the arms are swiwig up in the
oir and clo.sed as the arms are pulled through the water.
While this movement is much practised by some experts,
it is neither so graceful nor so speedy as the other, and
there is much splaahing, while steering is, in the case of a
close race, likely to become rather erratic, lioth are at
the present time the fastest known methods of swimming
on the back, and, with moderately good turning and push-
ing in a swimming bath, 100 yards should be covered in
about 74 seconds, probably less.
Of treading as a branch of swimming something should
be known by every one. It is the only department of the
art that is at all natural ; and, if treading were resorted to in
cases of accidental immersion, three-fourths of the resulting
deaths would be jirevented. The essential condition, of
course, is that the hands be kept under water. When
one falls into water the legs sink and the body assumes a
perpendicular position, the water splashes over the face,
and, once the eyes become filled or the mouth covered,
the inclination of any one unable to swim is to throw the
hands up and make an effort as if to creep along oo the
surface. These efforts only increase the danger of the
position. On becoming submerged one should keep per-
fectly inactive for a brief time ; the head will soon rise
above the surface, and at this moment one ought to beat
downward with both haiids alternately, never allowing them
to splash or disturb the surface, the head being leaned back
so as to keep only the face and nostrils clear. The back
of the head and ears may be covered, but this does not
matter. The motions of the hands, exactly similar to those
of a dog's forepaws when . swimming and walking, are to
be continued, the feet at the same time striking down —
not hurriedly, nor with sudden jerky movement, but easily
and gracefully, the ankles moving as if working treadles,
so that the soles of the feet act as sustaining and, it may
be, propelling surfaces. The movements of hands and feet
may be altered by beating downward with both hands at
once, or both feet at once, but in cases of accident the
former action is to be recommended. Swimmers, when
treading at competitions or for display, either fold their
arms across their chest or hold hands and armsjabove the
surface. In artistic swimming trials, as much as possible
of the body should be shown above the surface, and bob-
bing up and down ought to be avoided. Treading. is of
much importance even to a good swimmer, as it allows hrm
to divest himself of upper clothing, and enables him to lay
hold of anything, such as a rope or line that does. not
quite reach the surface ; it is also the most comfortable
position in which one can partake of refreshment in case
of a long swim, and is useful for purposes of conversation.
The Side Stroke may be said to hold in swimming a
position somewhat similar to that of running in pedes-
trianism ; as it becomes better known, the advantages of
this style of aquatic progression are becoming more and
more appreciated. The practice of it, however, ought not
to be begun until complete proficiency has been attained
in the primary stroke. Its main recommendations are
a[)parent almost at a glance. A good average side move-
ment will carry the swimmer a stroke in two seconds, each
stroke covering a distance of fully six feet. The method
is said by some to have been introduced by George Pewtera
about the year 18.50. The body is turned on either side,
but preferably with the right side downward, as thereby
the legs act more freely and naturally and the heart has
no weight on it to impede its action. The head is more
immersed and thereby reduced in weight, being supported
by the water and not by any muscular exertion of the neck
or shoulder, and the lower extremities are less immersed
than in th ; breast stroke. If one is lying on the right
side, the right arm is thrown boldly out in front, with the
palm of the hand downward and on a level with the lower
side of the head. When jmshed out to the utmost it is kept
rigid, brought downward through the water in one strong
movement, without any bonding of cither wrist or elbow,
XXII. — 97
770
SWIMMING
and this, the positive action, is finished when the hand has
reached the legs, and comes benveen these limbs at full
stretch. It is then carried up along the body to the chin,
and the stroke renewed. The left hand is formed into a
scoop, turned outward by the wrist at right angles to the
fore-arm. The left arm, with the elbow bent, is then
directed outward, and makes a straight pulling (not circular
nor swinging) stroke to the left hip. 'When one arm is
performiug the negative the other is at the positive part of
the stroke. The action of the legs should be long and
vigorous, and they should never cross each other, but
should work in unison with the arms and shoulders. The
left knee is brought up in front of the body, with the
foot in front of and at right angles to the body. Put the
foot in a line with the front of the leg, and bring it round
to meet the other in a line with the body. Meanwhile
stretch the right or lower leg as far away as possible from
the body toward the back and then bring it down to meet
the other by a powerful plain stroke. The legs are then
returned upward to the body, the heels touching, the knees
apart, the toes of the left foot forward and of the right
foot downward. To learn this graceful and useftil side
stroke some persons need long and steady practice ; others
acquire it comparatively quickly. The swimmer steers
with his left or right hand and arm as the direction de-
mands. The head and neck must be held in one position,
not raised nor turned at any part of the stroke. Bear-
ings should be taken from what can be seen in the line of
vision away from and in front of the body, and only very
seldom indeed should the head be turned to look in ad-
vance Breath is inhaled as the under hand is pulling
downward, and exhalation should take place while the
mouth is immersed, which is when the uppermost hand is
performing the' stroke along the body.
The coincident movement of arms and legs may be thus
described. As the legs are bent up to the body the upper
or left hand has been stretched ia front and the right ,or
lower arm- has just finished the pull. As the top arm
pulls downward the legs are opened wide and almost in
the same motion swung round and closed. It will be
apparent that the legs are returned upward with knees bent
as the downward pull is being performed with the lower
arm. No effort is to be made to sink the head, neither is
it to be held up in any way. The turn of the body by
the power of the strokes will be quite enough to allow of
the lips being sufficiently clear of the w-ater for th^purpose.
of inspiration. There should be no sudden pull at any
part whatever of this complete stroke.
The Overhand Stroke, when properly practised and
acquired, is the most useful and > easy of all styles of
swimming. Beginners, however, should beware of acquir-"
ing it before they are thorough adepts with the side stroke,
otherwise they lose all power of speed and good appear-
ance. Harry Gurr i? sometimes said to have been the
inventor of this stroke in 1863, but Harry Gardener, in
August of the year previous, when he won the 500 yards
championship in Manchester, used the overhand or over-
arm stroke. The only movements of the side stroke which
differ from those of the overhand are those of the left or
upper arm and hand. By carrying this arm in the air a
lengthened reach is obtained above the surface. As in
the side stroke, the head lies as far as possible into Ihe
water, the body, legs, and feet in a straight line level
with and close to the surface. The left arm is carried
forward and -stretched as far as possible out of the water
in a line with the face and in advance of the hsad. The
arm and hand re-enter the water, and are pulled through
it with the strongest propelling stroke. The Hmb out of
water should be carried through the air quietly, gracefully,
and evenly till dipped for the stroke, not swung xiselessly
round from the snoulder in a half circle. The left aim
and hand being in the air, the head lies' deeper in tjio
water than in the side stroke, and It is reduced in weight.
The legs work simultaneously with the left arm ; that is,
they are drawn up as this arm reaches in front, and are at
their nearest wide stretch by the time it is in position for
the pull : they are then pulled strongly together as tile
upper arm is performing its strong movement. At no time
when the upper arm is being carried forward above tlie
water should the hand be higher than a very few (stiy
about three) inches above the surface. The elbow alone
is elevated, and is the highest part of the arm. In fact,
the hand is so close to the surface ^hat, on being lifted
upward after the delivery of the stroke, the wrist has to
be bent ; otherwise the fingers would actually touch the
water. Once, however, the hand comes opposite the eyes
it is straightened in a line with the fore-arm and in this
position carried to the dipping point. Breathing is regu-
lated in precisely the same way as when swimming by
means of the side stroke.
Touching and Turning. — The methods of "touch and turn"
were brought into vogut by the now numerous swimming races in
baths. Whether the baths be long or short, from 10 to 15 feet
in the push-oil' is gained at each end of every length by all com-
petitors. Assuming th.it the swimmer is using the side or over-
hand stroke and going on the riglit side, the method to be adopted
is as follows^ When within 3 feet of the end wall of tlie bath the
left or upper hand quits its propelling movement, and reaches ia
front of the head till it touches the wall just above water-mai-li'»
The palm of the hand is then placed horizontally on the wall, th»
fingers to the right, which is the direction to which one is turning ;
the little finger is uppermost and thumb undermost. The knees
are bent, and the body, now close to the wall, is turned to the
right on its own axis by the left hand, after which the feet press
against the wall under the hand. As in diving and plunging, tbo
body, arms, and hands are in a straight line, and the head between
the biceps, all under water. The thighs are doubled up under ths
loins, the calves of the legs touching the back of the thighs, and
the soles of the feet pressing hard against the wall. A strong
pash-otf is made by the feet and legs, and the swimmer resumes h\s
ordinary stroke and course for a new length.
Ocean Swimming. — Persons having from any cause to siviin in
the heavy rolling breakers of mid ocean should use the side stroko
when available. No attempt should be made to breast or mount
the waves. By taking their direction a side-stroke swimmer is
carried an unexpectedly long distance. The large dangerous roller*
come almost in regular succession after an interval of small waves.
The swimmer soon notices them, fills his lungs, swims into tliem,
ducking the head, and quickly emerges when the wave lias passed.
Then a fresh supply of breath is inhaled.
Plunging. — In this the performer enters the wjiter in somewhat
the same manner as when diving (see below), but at a flat angle, and
from the moment of doing so makes no active muscular movement
whatever of any part of the body under water. Plunging came
into vogue as the most graceful and practical method of starting in
swimming races. From 3 to 5 feet above the water-level makes
the best springing point, whether from bauk, board, or rock. The
knees should be kept together and slightly bent, with the weight
on the balls of the feet and the lungs fully charged. The spring
forward at the signal to start is given with all muscular power
available. A saving of the arms from behind is taken, and, as the
feet quit their support, the arms are swung forward so as to rise up
to and straight beyond the head. The body is shot into mid air
as far as possible, and, before touching the water, the head falls
between the arms till the chin just touches the chest and the e«r
grazes the inside of the biceps. The body now glides.gracefully ai\d
almost noiselessly into the water, with the chest slightly hollowed,
the shoulders contracted, and the arms rigidly braced out straight.
The hands are now laid flat and the thumbs locked, while the hip?
and ankles are kept in one rigid straight line, with the soles of t)ie
feet turned upward and level with the surface, the toes jjointing
straight behind. The forward motion from the spring continure
as long as the body will float and the air in the lungs can be hell,
when the feet, followed by the arms, begin to sink, and the plungtr
ends his performance by merely raising his head. Adepts in this
branch have saved themselves from a sin'jing vessel bv a long
plunge from the ship's side, and so by one eUbrt have got clour
out of the vortex that is caused by her settling down and sinkings
Diving. — The rule in diving, as distinguished from plunging, is
most ex.)Iicit. In diving alone are the limbs allowed to make
muscular movements under water. When properly performed it
is a most graceful feat to the eye, and a good swimmer is, as a ruii-,
SWIMMING
771
IcnoTCn 'by the way m wliicli he enters the water. The height of
the end of the board frpm the surface of the water may bo trora 3
to 20 feet. If the water is taken properly a clean dive or header is
made but some swimmers are careless and will flop into the water
with the body contracted like a ball, instead of straightened out like
an arrow. The descent of good divers into the water vanes from
3 to 4 feet, of clumsy performers from 7 to 8 feet. The dive may
be a standing or running one. The feet and legs are kept together,
with the chest inflated, the arms slightly swnng to and fro twico
or so, and the body and legs bent towards the water. The lungs
are charged, and the dive is. made immediately before the arms
and hands are raised forward into the air above the bent head.
Th« feet are used with all the power possible in springing ott.
■When in mid air the diver straightens himself out from finger tips
to toes. The shoot downwards is made by declining the arms so
as to enclose the head, the chest is momentarily contracted, and
the water is gracefully and noiselessly entered fingei-s first, ihe
instant the body is covered, throw up the head and arms so as to
reach the surface. The eyes instinctively close as they enter the
water ; if it vKie otherwise, the force mth which the surface is
struck might cause injury, especially in the case of high diving.
As soon as the water is entered the eyes should be opened, as
swimming under water with them closed may be attended with
danger. The best method for novices is to begin from a board Sleet
high ; and, as confidence and a good style are acquired, the height
may be raised 1 or H feet at a time. Running headers are
accomplished by running 10 or 12 paces before springing ott, and
the diver endeavours to clear as long a distance as possible before
enterini' the water. Muscles and weight have nothing whatever
to do with perfection in diving. Slim youths and heavy middle-
aged men and women have alike excelled in this branch of aquatics.
The important requisites are courage and strength of nerve, corn-
tined with experimental knowledge of the behaviour of the body
while in air and'water. Do not enter the water feet first. Tins is
only done by those who have not the courage to dive in the proper
manner, and it sometimes causes harm to the respiratory organs,
whUe one may lose balance and so come on to the water quite
flat and be seriously injured in the stomach, ribs, or spine.
■Object Diving.— Soma divers move over. the bottom in straight
lines, and others search on no plan at all. The best way is to strike
.to the right or left on the circumference of the circle surrounding
the objects and work spirally inwards to the centre of the circle.
a the face be kept close to the bottom and the eyes brought well
into use success will reward one's efforts, and no object ought to
'be missed. For object diving the drawer's should have a pocket
easily accessible to one hand, in order to receive the objects raised.
These are collected by swimming on the breast as quickly as pos-
Mble. All movements under water ought to be gone about with
the utmost alacrity, but at the same time without undue haste or
flnrry, otherwise the heart's action will be increased, the breath
will suffer, and the stay under water will be shortened.
Plate Swimviing.— This is a most interesting and enjoyable
■branch of the art. From a very early period we find references to
mechanical appliances as aids to progression and support in the
fcater, these helps generally taking the form of large flat surfaces
made of wood, tin, leather, waterproof fabrics, or other similar
materials. Sometimes they were flat, in other instances slightly
concave. Some were made banded like tho covers of a book, or
hinged, others opened and closed with umbiolla-Iike action, while
quite a large number were made web-like,, to resemble a duck's foot ;
nearly all were more or less collapsible. From what can bo gleaned
of the stylo of these articles it is evident that the inventors cannot
have been familiar with the principles of swimming, or aquatic
propulsive action, and so, while a number of the contrivances were
undoubtedly tho outcoino of much thought and ingenuity, they
could not be regarded as in any way improving on the ordinary or
priiriitive swimming movements; and, while greater surface than
13 ofl'ered by hands and feet was always given, with the evident
intention of reducing "slip," much re.Histanco took place at the
neutral or negative part of the stroke. .The one good etfect^in most
of these inventions was thus more than nullified by this "dra",'
which, besides being objectionable in itself, had tho additional dis-
advantage of bringing into requisition muscles of legs and arms
tho development of which was antagonistic to perfection of swim-
ming. In 1876 Mr R. H. Wallace- Dunlop, C.B., announced that
he had invented swimming plates which afl'orded increased speed
without causing undue str.xining of the muscles; and these claims
have been justified by subsequent experience. Tho arrangements
for a lateral movement of the heels in tho footboards or plates,
with freedom o£ the ankles, showed at once that Mr Dunlop had
fully studied the details of tho art of swimming, with tho cfl^cct of
prently reducing "slip" in the positive and altogether doing away
with "drag" in tho negative parts of the leg stroko. Slow
gwimmers, by tho uso of the new appliances, move quickly and
easily through the water, whilst moderately fast swimmers liavo
their speed increased to an almost wonderful cxtoiit. To swim 100
yards in 70 seconds without artificial aid is regarded na a good per-
formance : there are not half a dozen lining swimmers wno can rednce
this time by so much as five seconds. Yet about ten years ago
a London swimmer, not by any means tho fastest, witli the assist-
ance of the plates covered tho distance of 100 yards in fiO seconds.
It will thus be apparent that the iuvcutiou marks an impoilant
advance in the art of swimming. These plates are made of wood
nialiogany or American bass, — and are in shape somewhat like
an artist's palette, with this (iilTereiice, that the bay or indenta-
tion of the edge runs in to where the thumb-hole would be. The
straps are made of leather, and all buckles and metal should bo of
bronzed or lacquered brass ; the woodwork ought to be kept well
polished or varnished. The hand j.lates are at the thickest part
g- of an inch thick, but those for tho feet must bo much stronger,
as the whole weight of the body is upon them while ono is standing
at or walking to the water's edge. In learning to uso them, let the
swimmer begin by lying flat on the water, straightening the arms
out about 24 inches apart. Spread the feet and legs well outward ;
then so place the feet that tlie plates shall be vertical, and thus
ofl'er tho soles as resisting surfaces to tho water ; close the legs in'
such a way that the flat parts will meet when the legs coma
tofether. The return of the feet to the body is the same as in^
nalural or unaided swimming, i.e., by bringing them heels first so
that the plates are carried up edge ways. Next, turn the ankles
so as to allow of the soles facing outward, this being in plate
swimming the point from which the positive or propelling part of
the stroke actually starts. Now press outward and round until
the plates meet as before, and repeat. Practise slowly and steadily
until sure that in the recovery there is no drag, and that when
spreading apart and closing the resisting surfaces are squared so
as to reduce slip to its minimum. The hands are moved as in
ordinary swimming, with this difference, that they are all the time^
lying flat; on their return to the hody after the propelling move-^
ment no motion of wrist is to be made, great care being taken to
keep the hand plates perfectly parallel with the surface of the
water as the slightest deviation from this rule, at any one part
of the arm stroke, will sink or raise the head and chest, and so
alter the natural and correct plane of the whole body. As the
plates are lighter than the water the feet will tend to conie close
to the surface, if not indeed sometimes above it, causing splashing
unless care be taken to avoid this. Floating in any position is
easy and comfortable with plates on, and divin.g, sculling, and back
swimming are all facilitated. The length of stroke in plate-
swimming is nearly double that of ordinary water movements.
The recommendations of the invention, especially m sea and long-
distance swims, may bo summed up in four words— safety, power,
endurance, speed. « . , <. ioor
Long Immersions.— \t is on record that on October 6, 1835
Samuel Brock, a Yarmouth fisherman, after being capsiied, remained
iu the water for 7i hours before he was picked up. As a long-
distance swimmer "in ocean and tidal waters no one has oyer
approached Matthew Webb (1848-83), of the Bnt'^h .mercantile
marine service. His first great feat w.as plunging (April 23, 18(3)
off' the Cunard S.S. " Russia " into a heavy sea in the unsuccessful
endeavour to save a young sailor who had fallen overboard when
ho passed 37 minutes in the sea before tho lifeboat relieved him.
Ho received tho silver medal from tho Royal Humane Society of
London, the Stanhope gold medal, and a £100 purse subscribed
by the passengers of the "Russia." In June 1874 he swam from
Dover to the north-cast Vnrne buoy (9i sea miles). On July 3,
1875, he went from Black\,all Tier to Gravescud Town Pier on an
ebb tide (18.V miles) in 4 h. 52 m. 44 s., and on July 19, U,o
from Dover to Ramsgate (15 sea miles) iu 8.? h. • An unsuccessful
attempt to swim from Dover to Calais (174 sea m'les) "J *'»>
narrowest part of Dover Straits took place on August 12, 18/ 5.
He afterwards successfully accomplished tho feat on August .i-.o,
1875, after 21 h. 44 m. r..'i s inimcrsion, the distance swum liaving
been as nearly as possible 39i statute miles. ^ A /«<> 'l=",')y «"'-\'"r'
to swim the whirlpool rapids of Niagara cost Webb his ilo on July
'U, 1883. On September 15, 1875, F. Cavil swam on the ebb of a
strong «•^TT;; tide from Putney to Blackwall (13 miles 3 r'i>'longs)
in 3 lir. 50 m. Jliss Agnes Bcckwith, of London, on tho-Uth
July 1878, swam 20 miles in tho Thames, without any assistance
whatever, in 6 hours 25 minutes. Horace Davenport, of London,
for years amateur champion of Great Britain ou 'id Septembor
1884, swam from Southsea, Portsmouth, to Rydo, Isle of W igUt,
and back again in 5 h. 25 m. .^ t • -.ti k/
RcmarkMe and Best Swimminc, liccm-iis.-'ne grcdt majority 6f
these have been achieved in England, but accurate statistics cannot
be said to bo plentiful. Tho following aro soma of Uio authcuU.
cally recorded results. , _ « . . <iio vnr<ii. rW"
ll',, accord, in Open ami Still '''"'f^r'''" r:^\},,"Lf,!. 'li m 17J .^ 1000
Ml ..; 300 yards, 4 m. S7 • ; MO ynrclj, 7 m. 58 « ; holf-mllc, U ro. l.J i.. iuo»
Britain not many aro «actly similar In "'•"""'"••"^, " [X^', ''^"^"V Iho
l,rc„<Ul.. Tim hhortcr tl.o Imll. U.c f«»lcr become. '"<' <' "^ '"' '' T^h,,^' w
aid of cnch turn. Tho Lambclh bath, whrro tho """"'i ""™''''ji,j,7f'°Io
ahlpand other cckhnitcl bath racea In tho I*'"?''"™ •'""J^rrartl »»» i? 80
yards. loHR. Tho following aio tho bc.l Lambeth rtcorila.-40 yarjfc »j «, v
772
S W I — S W I
?aTa»,-V!(~e.: lOOvarcfs, 1 m. 7} e.; 150 yards, 1 m. 58) §.; 160 yards, 2 m. 2 s.;
00 yards, 2 m. 411 s.; 220 yards, 2 m. 5'J} s.; 400 yards, 5 m. 44; s.; J mile,
« m. 215 ».; iOO yards, 7 m, 19J s.; COO yal-ds, 8 m. 4C5 s.; 600 yards, U n).
46J s.; i mUe (21 turns), 13 m. i s,; 1000 yards, 14 m. 66J s.; 1200 yards,
18 IB. 5J s.; j mile, 20 m. } s.; 1400 yards, 21 m. 17} s.; 1 mile (43 turns),
27 ra. SJ s. The records of other tciths include;— 500 yards, 6 m. 5j s. (Oldtiam
Baths); 100 yar4s, 1 m. 4J s. (Blackburn Baths); 1 mile, 26 m. 21 8. (Westminster
Aquarium) (SO tul■n^).
longest Time under Waier. in Olass Tank. — 4 m. 29} s.
Longest Dives.— 109 yards 2 feet 6 Indies, and 113 yards 1 foot.
Longest Plunges. — From a springboard S feet above the level snrfaee Of the
water, 73 feet I inch; from a fixed board, 3 feet 6 inches above the water level,
76 feet 3 inches.
For baths and bathing, see Baths, vol. iil. p. 434. For drowning and rcscalnp:
life, see Drowning, vol. vli. p. 47&. There are two societies with headquartei-s
In London which consist of delegates from nearly all the swimming clubs in the
metropolis. These have framed rules and regulations for the conduct of clubs,
races, and other performances Included under "swimming." The Professional
Swimming Association was successfully floated by Mr Robert Watson on July
6, 1881. The Amateur Swimming Association was reinaugursted jn 188G hy
the amalgamation of the Swimming Association of Gi eat Britain and the Amateur
Swimming Union. There are annual competitions for the amateur champion-
ships at 500 yards, ^ mile, 1 mile in still water, and 5 J miles in the Thames. There
are also the Associated Swimming Clubs of Glasgow and the Associated Clubs
of Dundee, each similar in its objects and composition to the Amateur Swimming
Association.
The literature of the subject of swimming is considerable, and the following
works may be mentioned. Thevenot, T/te Art of Swimming, transl. from the
French, Lo:. don, 1789; Sicfmmfnj;, two letters by Benjamin Franklin, Bung;iy,
1791; \Valkel-'s Manly Sports, art. "Swimming," London. 18.J6; G. H. Cliss,
Gymnastics and Swimming, London, 1840; W. H. Leveral, Stcimming and
Smmmers, London, 18fil ; S. W. Higgenson, '* Swimming," in The American and
Continental Monthly, May 1870; "Piscator," How to Swim, London, 1872;
Charles Steedman, Afanual of Swimming, London. 1873 : Leahy, Swimming iu
the Eton Style, Nottingham, 1875; J. Bell Pettigrew, Anijnat Locomotion,
London, 1874; W. Wilson, Swimming, Diving, and How to Save Life, Glasgow,
1876; Torkington, Swimming Drill, London. 1S76;R. 11. W. Dunlop, I'ljte
Swimming, London, 1877; Mt-nstery, jVew Afanual of Swimming, New York,
1878; W. Wilson, The Swimming Jnslniclor. 1SS3 ; J. H. Walsh, alt. "Swim-
ming," British Rural Sports, London, 1880. (H. F. W.— W. WI.)
SWINDON. The towns of Old and New Swindon, in
Wiltshire, England, are situated on several railway lines,
about 77 miles west of London and 30 east-north-east of
Bath. The old town is built on an eminence commanding
fine views of the surrounding country. It received a
charter for a fair from Charles I., and has weekly markets
lOr corn and cattle. The church was erected in 1851,
from the designs of Sir Gilbert Scott. There is a town-
hall and a corn exchange. Swindon New Town, to the
north from Old Swindon, has grown up since the construc-
tion of the Great Western Railway, w;hich has its principal
works there. There is a market-house for meat, fish, and
vegetables. Connected with the Great Western Railway
mechanics' institution there is a library of about 14,000
volumes. The combined areas of Old and New Swindon,
which form separate urban sanitary "districts, amount to
2524 acres, with a population in 1881 of 22,374. Old
Swindon (area 1214 acres) had a population in 1871 of
4092 and in 1881 of 4696, and New Swindon (area 1310
acres) a population in 1881 of 17,678.
SWINE. The oldest known even-toed or Artiodactyle
Ungulates (see Mamjuai-ia, vol. xv. p. 429) were neither
Oxen, Antelopes, Deer, Camels, nor Pigs, but presented a
generalized type, which by modification in various direc-
tions has given rise to all these very diverse forms. They
were mostly of small size, and had invariably the full
number of teeth of tto typical mammalian heterodont
dentition, viz., 44, of which the incisors were § on each
Bide, the canines \, the premolars -*-, and the true molars |.
iThe molars were short and square, crowned with blunt,
rounded cusps, and the canines were not remarkably
developed. All the feet terminated in four toes, the two
middle ones fthe third and fourth of the complete typical
mammalian extremity) of nearly equal size, the outer ones
(second and fifth) smaller, and also equal. The five-toed
ancestor of these forms has not yet been discovered.
They had no special weapons, as horns or antlers, on their
foreheads. Such was the condition of all the hitherto dis-
covered animals of this division at the commencement of
the Tertiary period. Very early a .change took place in
the charaLters of the molar teeth in certain members of
the group : the rounded tubercles became sharp ridges
curved in a crescentic form, and better adapted for a purely
herbivorous diet, especially for cutting and bruising the
comparatively dry and hard blftdes of grass which grow
in open plains. The animals thus separated from the rest
— the Selenodont (crescent-toothed) Artiodactyles — have
undergone various further modifications of teeth, tcet, and
other parts, and cDnstitute the diverse forms of ruminat-
ing animals mentioned above. Those whose molar teeth
retained more of the primitive tuberculated (bimodont)
form, were the ancestors of the present family of Swine,
some of which, looking upon their organization as a
whole, have undergone less change since the Eocene
period than almost any other mammals.
Remains of very generalized swine like animals have
been abundantly found in Eocene and early Miocene
formations both in America and Europe. In the former
continent they never (as far as present evidence indicates)
underwent any great diversity of modification, but gradu-
ally dwindled away and almost died out, being only repre-
sented in the actual fauna by the two closely-allied species
of peccary, among the smallest and most insignificant mem-
bers of the group, which have existed almost unchanged
since the Miocene age at least, if the evidence of teeth
alone can be trusted. In the Old World, on the other
hand, the swine have played a more important part in
recent times, having become widely distributed, and throw-
ing oS some curiously specialized forms. At the present
time, though not very numerous in species, they range
through the greater part of the Old World except within
or near the Arctic Circle, although, in common with alf
the other members of the great Ungulate order,- they were
completely absent from the whole of the Australian region
until introduced by man in very recent times.
The existing swine like animals may be divided nativ
rally into three families : — I. UippoprAamidx; 11. Suit/. r,
or true Pigs ; IIP. Dicotylidx, ox Peccaries.
I. Family Hippopotamid^.i
Muzzle very broad and rounded. FcH'shoH and hrond,
U'ilhfour suhequal toes, with short rounded hoofis, all reach-
ing the ground in walking. Incisors not rooted hut con-
tinuously growing ; those of the Zipper jaw curved an:f
directed downwards; those of the lower straight and pro.
cumbent. Canines very large, cui-ved, continuously grouing;
upper ones directed downwards. Premolars j- ; molais !J.
Stomach complex. No ccecum.
This appears to be an exclusively Old-World form, — no
animals belonging to it, either recent or fossil, having
been found in America. The family has been divided
ir.<-o three genera, according to the number of the incisoi-
teeth. (1) Hexaprotodon, incisors '!}, a type wliich comes
nearest to the generalized or ancestral form of the group,
is now extinct, being only known from the early Pliocene
formations of the Sub-Himalayan range.. (2) Hippopnlnmus
proper, incisors %, contains the one well-known species //.
amphibiiis, now confined to the rivers and lakes of Africa,
but formerly (in the Pliocene period) abundantly distrib-
uted, under various minor modifications, in Europe, as far
north as England. Remains of an allied form have been
found in the island of Madagascar, where it is now extinct.
(3) Choerupsis, incisors reduced to ^, contains one very
small and still little known species, from rivers of Libei-ia,
West Africa, C. liberiensis. See Hippopotamus.
II. Family Suid^.
Ati elongatea mobile snout, with an expanded, irunrated,
nearly naked, flat, O'Xil terminal surface in which the nostrils
are placed. Feet narrow ; four completely developed toes on
each. Hoofs of tju tioo middle toes with their contiguous
surfaces flattened. Tlte outer {s?cond and fifth) digits not
reaching to the ground in the ordinai-y 'walking position.
Teeth variableii:^ number, owing to tlie suppression in some
forms of an upper incisor ajid one or more premolars
SWINE
773
^Tncisoris rooted. Zipper canines curving more or less outioards
or ■upwards. Sionvxch simple, except for a more or less de-
veloped pouch near the cardiac orifice. A cxcum. . Colon
spirally coiled. Confined to the Old World.
' Svs. — Dentition: t§, c-J-, p^, m§; total 44'. Upper
incisors diminishing rapidly in size from the first to the
third. Lower incisors long, narrow, closely
approximated, and almost Lorizontal in posi- y^^s.
tion, their apices inclining towards themiddle ^^^^^* '
line; the second slightly ^-'^' ■'.
larger than the first, the
third much smaller. ^^-^-"/^
Fig. 1. — Dentition of Boar {Sus scrofa).
Canines strongly developed and with persistent roots and
partial enamel covering, those of the upper jaw not having
the usual downward direction, but curving strongly out-
wards,upwards, and finally inwards, while those of the lower
jaw are directed upwards and outwards with a gentle back-
ward curve, their hinder edges working and wearing against
the front edges of the upper canines.^ They appear ex-
ternally to the mouth as tusks, the form of the upper lip
being modified to allow of their protrusion, but are much
less developed in the females than in the males. The
teeth of the molar series gradually increase in size and
complexity from first to last, and are arranged in con-
tiguous series, except that the first lower premolar is
separated by an interval from the second. First and
second upper premolars with compressed crowns and two
roots. The third and fourth have an inner lobe developed
on the crown, and an additional pair of roots. The first
and second true molars have quadrate crowns, with four
principal obtuse conical cusps, around which numerous
accessory cusps are clustered. The crown of the third
molar is nearly as long (antero-posteriorly) as those of the
first and second together, having, in addition to the four
principal lobes, a large posterior talon or heel, composed
of numerous clustered conical cusps, and supported by
several additional roots. The lower molar teeth resemble
generally those of the upper jaw, but are narrower. Milk
dentition: i§, c\, »!§; total 28, — the first permanent
premolar having no predecessor in this series. The third
incisor, in both upper and lower jaw, is large, developed
before the others, and has much the size, form, and
direction of the canine. Vertebral: C 7, D 13-14, L G,
S 4. O ?0_24. The hairy covering of the body varies
mucli under different conditions of climate, but when best
developed, as in the European wild boar, consists of long
stiff bristles, mostly abundant on the back and sides, and
of a close softer curling undor-coat.
' If from any acciUental circumstances these teeth are not con-
fitontly worn down by friction, tiiey grow into a complete circle, the
point penetrating the bono of the jaw dose to the root of the tooth.
The natives of the Fiji Islands avail themselves of this circumstance to
produce one of their most valued ornaments — a circular boar's tusk :
the upper canines being extracte'l, the lower ones are allowed to grow
to the desired form.
This genus occurs at present under three principal
modifications or subgenera.
A. <Si« proper comprises a number of animals found in
a wild state throughout the greater part of Europe (except
where exterminated by human agency), the north of Africa,
southern continental Asia, and the great islands of the
Malayan archipelago, Formosa, and Japan. The following
among others have been admitted by zoologists as distinct
species : — Sus scrofa, the wild boar of Europe, Asia Minor,
and North Africa, once common throughout the British
Isles; S. sennaarensis, North-East Africa; S. cristatus, Hin-
dustan; S. vittatus, Java, Borneo, Amboyna, Batchianj S^
harbatus, Borneo; S. paputnsis, New Guinea; S. timorensis,\
Timor and Rotti ; S. andamanensis, Andaman Islands ; S.
celebensis, Celebes ; S. taivanits, Formosa ; S. leucomystax,
Japan ; S. verrucosus, Java, Borneo, Ceram. This list
will give some idea of the geographical distribution of
wild pigs, but it must be borne in mind that through the
whole of this region, and in fact now throughout the
greater part of the habitable world, pigs are kept by man
in a domesticated state, and it is still an open question
whether some of the wild pigs of the islands named above
may not be local races derived originally from imported
domestic specimens. In New Zealand a wild or rather
"feral" race is already established, the origin of which is
of course quite recent, as it is well ascertained that no
animal of the kind ever lived upon the island until after
its settlement by Europeans. Whether the various breeds
of domestic pigs have been derived from one or several
sources is still unknown. As in so many similar cases there
is no historic evidence upon the subject, and the researches
of naturalists, as Nathusius, Rutimeyer,' Rolleston, and
others, who have endeavoured to settle the question on
anatomical evidence, have not led to satisfactory CUnt
elusions. It is, however, tolerably certain that all the
species or forms of wild pigs enumerated above and all
the domestic races are closely allied, and it is probable
(though of this there has been no opportunity of proof)
FlO. 2. — Wild Boar and Voiiiii;.
will breed freely together. It is a curious circumstance
that the young of all the wild. kinds of pigs (as far as is
known at present) present a uniform coloration, being
dark brown with longitudinal stripes of a paler colour, a
character which completely disappears after the first few
months. On the other hand, this peculiar marking is
rarely seen in domestic pigs in any part of the world
although it has been occasionally observed. It is stated
by Darwin that the pigs which have run wild in Jamuica.
774
S W I i^ i!i
and the semiferal pigs of New Granada have resumed this
aboriginal character, and produce longitudinally striped
young ; these must of course be the descendants of do-
mestic animals introduced from Europe since the Spanish
conquest, as before that time there were no true pigs in
the New World. Another character by which the Euro-
pean domestic pig differs from any of the wild species is
the concave outline of the frontal region of the skull, a
form still retained by the feral pigs in New Zealand.'
B. The diminutive pig of Nepal, the Terai, and
Bhutan, Svs salvanius, has been separated from the rest
by Hodgson under the generic name of Porcula, but all
the alleged distinctive characters prove on more careful
investigation to have little real value.. Owing to its
retired habits, and power of concealment under , bushes
and long grass in the, clepths of the great Saul Forest,
which is its principal home, very little has been known of
this curious little animal, scarcely larger than a hare.
The recent acquisition of living specimens in the London
Zoological Gardens has, however, afforded opportunities
for careful anatomical observation.^
C. Two well-marked species of African swin^ have
been with more reason separated under the name of
Fotamochcei-vs. The dentition differs from that of true
Sus, inasmuch as the anterior premolars have a tendency
to disappear; sometimes in adult specimens the first upper
premolar is retained, but it is usually absent, as well as
the first and often the second lower premolars. The molar
tseth are also less complex ; the last especially has a much
less developed heel. There are also characteristic cranial
differences. The two species are very distinct in outward
appearance and coloration. One is P. africanus, the South
African River-Hog, or Bosch-Vark, of a grey colour, and
the other P. porcus or penicillatvi, the West African Bed
River-Hog, remarkable for its vivid colouring and long
pencilled ears. It should be noted that the young of both
these species, as well as of the pigmy S. salvanius, present
the striped character of true Sus, a strong indication of
close affinities, whereas in all the following forms this is
absent.
Babirussa. — ^Dentition: t|, ci, jof, m§; total 34. The
total number of teeth is therefore considerably reduced,
the outer upper incisor and the two anterior premolars
of both jaws being absent. The molars, especially the
last, are smaller and simpler than in Sus, but the great
peculiarity of this genus is the extraordinary development
of the canines of the male. These teeth are ever-growing,
Jong, slender, and carved, and entirely without enamel
covering. Those of the upper jaw are directed upwards
from their base, so that they never enter the mouth, but
pierce the skin of the face, resembling horns rather than
teeth, and curve backwards, downwards, and finally often
forwards again, almost or quite touching the skin of the
forehead. There is but one species, B. aijurus, found only
in the islands of Celebes and Buru. Its external surface
is almost entirely devoid of hair. With regard to the
curiously modified dentition, Wallace {Malay Archipelago,
i. p. 435) makes the following observations. " It is difficult
to understand what can be the use of these horn-like teeth.
Some of the old writers supposed that they served as hooks
by which the creature could rest its head on a branch.
' The breeding of pigs has of lata yeara been practised with more
care and skill than formerly, especially in the United States, where
the ' ' hog product " ranks with wheat and cotton as one of the leading
agricultural exports. Several volumes have been published of thfs
pedigrees of two breeds — the Berkshire and the Poland-China. The
official estimate of the number of s\nn< in the United States in 1886
is 46,000,000, and about the same number is assigned unofficially to
Europe, where Servia takes the lead in proportion to population and
Norway stands lowest.
" Sea Gai-son, Proa. Zool. Soc. Land., 1883, p. 413.
But the way in which they usually diverge just over awT
in front of the eye has suggested the more probable idea,
that they serve to guard these organs from thorns and
spines while hunting for fallen fruits among the tangled
thickets of rattans and other spiny plants. Even this,
however, is not satisfactory, for the female, ' who must
seek her food in the same way, does not possess tjienul
Flo. 3. — Head of Babirussa.
I should be- inclined to believe rather that these tusks!
were once useful, and were then worn down as fast as
they grew, but that changed conditions of life have
rendered them unnecessary, and they now develop into a;
monstrous form, just as the incisors of the beaver and
rabbit will go on growing if the opposite teeth do nor
wear them away. In old animals they reach an Enormous
size, and are generally broken off as if by fighting." ,
Phacochoerus.— The Wart-Hogs, so called from the largo
cutaneous lobes projecting from each side of the face,^
have the teeth still more remarkably modified than in.-
Babirussa. The milk dentition, and even the early con-
dition of the permanent dentition, is formed on the same
general type as that of Stis, except that certain of the
typical teeth are absent, the formula being t'i, c\, p4,'
m §, total 3i ; but as age advances all the teeth have a
tendency to disappear, except the canines and the posteriori
molars, but these, which in some cases-are the only teeth
left in the jaws, attain an extraordinary development'
The upper canines especially are of great size, and curve
outwards, forwards, and upwards. Their enamel covering
is confined to thi, apex, and soon wears away. The
lower canines are much more slender, but follow the same
curve ; except on ths posterior surface, their crowns are
covered with enamel. Unlike those of the babirussa, the
canines of the- wart-hog are large in both sexes. The
third molar tooth of both jaws is of great size, and pre-
sents a structure at first sight unlike that of any other
mammal, being composed of numerous (22^25) parallel
cylinders or columns, each with pulp cavity, dentine, and
enamel covering, and packed together with cement. Care-
ful examination will, however, show that a similar modi-
fication to that which has transformed the comparatively
simple molar tooth of the mastodon into -the extremely
complex grinder of the Indian elephant has served to
change the tooth of the common pig into that of Phaco-
chcerus. The tubercles which cluster over the surface of
the crown of the common pig are elongated and drawn
out into the columns of the wart-hog, as the low trans-
verse ridges of the mastodon's tooth become, the leaf^like
plates of the elephant's.
Two species of this genns are distinguished : — P.
africanus, jElian's Wart-Hog, vridely distributed over the
continent ; and P. scthiopiacs, Pallas's Wart-Hog, confi'ned
to south-eastern Africa. In the latter species the dentition
S W I -- S W 1
775
reaches its most complete reduction, as in adult specimens
the upper incisors are absent and the lower ones worn
down to the roots
III. Family DicoTYi.iOiE.
Snout as in Suidaj. Dentition : i §, c |-, p f , m ^ ; total
38. Incisors rooted : upper canines directed downwards,
with sharp euttinc/ hinder edtjes. Toes, fotir on the fore feet
and three on the hind feet (the ffth wanting). Stomach
complex. A csecum. ConJIned to the Neiu World.
There is one genus, Dicotyles, with two species, D.
tagar^H, the Collared Peccary, and D. lahiaius, the White-
Lipped Peccary. See Pecc.uiy. (w. h. f.)
SWINEMtJNbE, a Baltic port and bathing-place on
the island of Usedom in Poraerania, Prussia, is situated
at the mouth of the Swine, 35 miles to the north-west of
Stettin. Its broad unpavod streets and one -story bouses
built in the Dutch style give it an almost fustic appear-
ance, although its industries, beyond some fishing, are
entirely connected with its shipping. The entrance to
the harbour, one of the best on the Prussian Baltic coast,
is protected by two long breakwaters, and is strongly
fortified. Swinemiinde lighthouse, 216 feet high, the
loftiest in Germany, rises beside the new docks on the
island of A^ollin, on the other side of the narrow Swine.
Ships drawing not more than 16 feet ran proceed to
Sletrin, but those of heavier burden discharge or lighten
at Swinemiinde, which thus stands in the relation of a
fore-port to the larger city, with which it is connected by
railway. Exclusive of merely passing ships, 615 vessels
with a burden of 189,491 tons entered and 607 vessels
with a burden of 179,336 tons cleared the port in 1880.
In 1882 it possessed a fleet of 39 vessels with a burden
of 5218 tons. The population in 18S0 was 8478.
, The Swine, the central and shortest passage between the Stettmer
Half and the Baltic Sea, was fornjerly flanked by the fishing
vilLiges of West and East Swine. Towards the beginning of last
century it was made navigable for large ships, and Swinemiinde,
which was founded on the site of West Swine in 1748, was fortified
and raised to tlio dignity of a town by Frederick the Great in 1765.
In 1775 it had 1000 inhabitants, in 1816 3191.
SWINTO^r, a town in the West Riding of Yorkshire,
is situated at the junction of the Dearne and Dove naviga-
tion with the river Don navigation, and of the South
^Yorkshire and Midland railway lines, 9 miles north-east
of Sheffield and 8 south-west of Doncaster. In the
church of St Margaret (rebuilt in 1817) two beautiful
Norman arches of the old cliurch are preserved. There
tre collieries, quarries, and brickfields in the neighbourhood.
A large number of persons are employed in the South
Yorkshire Railway establishment for the repairing of
engines and waggons. There are also flint and glass-bottle
.works, iron-works (for stoves, grates, fenders, and kitchen
ranges), and earthenware manufactures. The town was
formerly renowned for its Rockingham ware, but the
manufacture has been discontinued for some years. A free
warren was granted to Swinton by Henry II. King John,
on his march,from York to Boston, slept at Swinton old
hail. The population of the urban sanitary district (area
1700 acres) in 1871 was 5150, and in 1881 it was 7612.
J SWINTON, a lai'go village of Lancashire, is situated on
several railway lines, 5 miles north-west of Manchester and
6 south-east of Bolton. The Swinton industrial schools,
opened in February 1846, are a fine range of buildings of
brick with stone facings, surrounded with grounds extend-
ing to 20 acres. The church of St Peter, a fine building
of stone with a lofty western tower, was erected from the
designs of Sir Gilbert Scott in 1869. The manufacture
of cotton and coal mining are the chief industries.
Anciently a large part of Swinton was possessed by the
?tnkrhts Hosnitalicrs of St John of Jerusalem. Swinton 1
and Pcndlebury form an urban banitary district (area 2166
acres) under the government of a local board of twelve
members ; its population, estimated at 14,052 for 1871,
amounted in 1881 to 18,107'.
SWITHUN, St, bishop of Winchester from 852 to 862.
Tho name of St Swithun, patron saint of Winchester
cathedral from the 10th to the 16th century, is scarcely to
be found in any contemporary document. His death is
entered in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle under the year 861 ;
and his signature is appended to several charters in
Kemble's Codex Diplomaticus. Of these charters three
belong to 833, 838, and some year between 860 and 862.
In the first the saint signs as " Swithunus presbyter regis
Egberti," in the second as " Swithunus diaconus," and in
the third as " Swithunus episcopus." Hence if the second
charter be genuine ihe first must b« spurious, and is so
marked in Kembla.
More than a hundred years later, when Dunstan and Ethelwold
of Winchester were inaugurating their church reform and sup-
planting the secular canons of the degenerate English founda-
tions by monks, St Switliun w^s adopted as pati'on of the restored
church at Winchester, formerly dedicated to St Peter and St Paul.
His body was taken up from its almost forgotten grave outside the
old monastery and transplanted to Ethelwold's new basilica on 15th
July 971. Numerous miracles preceded and followed this transla-
tion. "We have seen," saysone contcmporaiy writer, "the precincts
of the monastery so thronged with crowds of ailing .folk that a
traveller could scarcely make his way to the shrine ; and yet, after
some days, so numerous were the cures that even within the chui'ch
itself there were scarcely five sick people to be seen." Another
writer, likewise a contemporary, claims to the saint's credit two
hundred cures in the short space of ten days.
The revival of StSwithun's fame gave rise to a mass of legendary
literature, from which it can only be deduced that towards the end
of the 10th century very little was known concerning his career.
The so-called Vila; SioUhuni of Lantfred and Wulstan, written
about this time, hardly contain the very smallest kernel of bio-
graphical fact; and all that has in later years passed for authentic
detail of St Swithun's life is extracted fiom a biography, ascribed
with much probability to Gotzelin, a monk who came over to Eng-
land with Hermann, bishop of Salisbury from 1058 to 1078. From
this writer, who has perhaps preserved some fragments of genuine
tradition, we learn that St Swithun was born in the reign of
Egbert, and was ordained priest by Helmstan, bishop of Winchester
(838-c. 852). His fame reached the king's ears, who appointed him
tutor of his son Adulphus (Ethelwulf) aud numbered liim amongst
his chief friends. Und«r Ethelwulf he was appointed bi.shop. of
Winchester, to which see ho was consecrated by Archbishop
Ceolnoth. In his new office he was remarkable for his piet^ and his
zeal in building new churches or restoring old ones. At his request
Ethelwulf gave tlie tenth of his royal lands to the church. His
humility was such that ho made his diocesan journeys on foot ;
and when he gave a banquet lie invited the poor and not the rich.
He built near the eastern gate of his cathedral city a bridge whose
stone arches were so strongly constructed that in Gotzelin's timo
they seemed a work " uon Icviter niiturns." He died 2d July 862,
and gave orders that he was not to be buried within tho church but
outside iu "a vile and unworthy place."
William of Malmesbury adds that, as Bishop Alhstan of
Sherborne was Ethelwulf's minister for temporal, so St Swithun
was for spiritual matters. The same chronicler uses a remarkable
phrase in recording tho bishop's prayer that his burial might be
"ubi et pedibus pra;tercuutium et stillicidiis ox alto roraiitihus
esset obnoxius." This expression has been taken as indicating
that the well-known weather myth contained iu the doggrel lines —
St Swltliin's d-iy if thou dost rata
For folly Uaj li it will remain :
St SwUhiu'3 Uay if thou bu fair
For foi ty days 'twili rain na mair—
had already, in the 12th century, crystallized round the name
of St Swithun ; btit it is doubtful if the passage lends itself by
any straining to this interpretation. Mr Uaiuc has suggested that
the legend is derived from the tremendous downpour of rain that
occurred, according to tho Durham chroniclers, on St Swithun's
day, 1315 {IHst. Dunclm., pp. xiii. 96-7). Another theory, more
plausible, but historically worthless, traces it to a heavy shower
by which, on tho day of )iis translation, tho saint marked his
displeasure towards thosu who were rcniovinj' his remains. This
story, however, cannot h^ traced farther back than some two or
three centuries at tho outside, and is at variance with tho 10th-
century writers, who are oil agreed that tho tr.ins1ation took place
in accnrdnneo with the uaint's ilenire hh expressed by vision. More
probable is Mr Earle's sugtesliou that in lljo le^ieud as nowcuucJit
776
S AV 1 — S W I
|ve liave the survival of some pagan or possibly prehistoric day of
augury, which has shdtereil itself and preserved its vitality under
the protection of an ecclesiastical saint. Tliis view is supported
ty the fact adduced iu Nolcs and Queries (1st ser., xii. p. 137) that
in France St Medard (June 8) and St Gervase and St Protais (June
19) are accredited with an influence on the weather almost identical
with that attributed to St Swlthun in.England.. Mr Parker pro-
fesses to detect a shower of rain as the symbol of St Swithun in
the clog almanacs (of Queen Elizabeth's time), but Mr Earle
doubts the resemblance. Of other stories connected with St
Swithun the two most famous are those of the Winchester egg-
woman and Queen Emma's ordeal. The former is be found in
flotzelin's life (c. 1100), the latter in Kudborne's Bisloria Major
(15th century),— a work which is also responsible for the not!
improbable legend that this prefate accomi)anied Alfred on liiw
visit to Rome in 856. ',
The so-called lives of St Swithun written by Wulstan, LanlfreU, and perhapj
otheis towards tlie end of tlie lOtli century mav be found in UoUandus's Acta
Sanctorum (July), 1. 3^1-327 ; JIabillon's Ada SS. 0. D., vi. 70, Ac, vU. 028,
*c. ; and Eaile's Life and Times o/ St Sicil/itm. 5S. i;c. See also WiJIIsm of
Malmesbury, nest. ReQ., i. 150, and De Gest. Pmit., ICO, 167, 170; Florence of
Worcester, i. 16S; Uudboine ap. Wharton's Aiiijlia Sacra, 1. 2S7 ; Hardy's Cat.
0/ irSS., i. .51.3-17; Brand's Popular Anliquiti'es; Chambers's Book of Daxji.
Ethclwulf's Tuhe Charters, nearly all of wliicli refer to St Swithun in the body of
tlie text, may be studied in Haddon and Stubbs's Councils iii. 630-45; a com-
paiison of the ch.irter on pace GJ'2 with Gotzelin's life (ap. Earle, CO) and
Wilimm of Malmesbury (0«(. /Ce^., IJO: DeGest. Pont., liinj seems to show that
these charleis, even if fnrceiics, date back at least to the Uth century, u
well as the story of his being Ethclwulf's " allor ct ductor."
SWITZEKLANI)
M
Paet 1. — Geography and Statistics.
S the Swiss Confederation consists of a number of small
L districts, differing from each other in many points,
but gathered round a common centre, originally for common
defence against a common foe, it is not surprising that its
political boundaries do not coincide' with those of nature.
So we find that Ticino is south of the main chain of the
Alps, a large part of the Orisons is east of the Khine and
of the ranges separating it from Tyrol, while Schaffhausen
is north of the Rhine, and Porrentruy is in the French
Geiwral plain far down the western slope of the Jura. Putting
ration'^' ^?'^® *^®^® exceptional cases (all of them outside the ori^
ginal limits of the tonfederation), the physical geography
of Switzerland may be thus roughly summed up : —
(1) To the south there is the main chain of the Alps, which is
joined at Mon* Dolent (12,566 feet) by the lower ranges running
«ast from the east end of the Lake of Geneva, and which continues
to be the boundary up to the Stelvio Pass.
('2) To the nol'th of this main chain of the Alps there is another
great range, only slightly inferior in height and extent, which
starts from the hills known as the Mont Jorat above Lausanne,
rises in the great peaks of the Bernese Oberland and in the Tddi'-
trends to the north near Chur, and, after rising once more to form
the Santis, dies away on the south shore of the Lake of Constance
(3) "The main chain of the Alps and this great north outlier are
parallel to each other from Mont Dolent to near Chur ; joined for
a short space near the Pizzo Rotondo (west of the St Gotthard)
they again part near the Oberalp Pass (east of the St Gotthard).
Between these two great ranges flow two of the mightiest European
rivers, the Rhine towards the east and the Rhone towards the
l-west, their head waters being separated only by the tangled
(mountain mass between the Pizzo Rotondo and the Oberalp Pajs.
, (4) To the north of the great north outlier of the main chain of
the Aljis there arc what may be called the plains of Switzerland
really the huge undulating valley of the Aar (and its affluents) to
which must be added the Thur valley between the Aar basin and
Ihe Lake of Constance.
Thus, omitting the special cases named above, we may
roughly describe Switzerland as consisting of two great
trenches traversed by two great rivers, and enclosed by
two huge mountain masses, together with the enormous
valley of the Aar and the 'smaller one of the Thur, both
these shut in by the great north outlier of the main chain
of the Alps, the Rhine, and the Jura,— two deeply cut
trenches, and two wide and undulating valloyi.
The main chain of the Alps rises in Swiss territory to
the height of 15,217 feet in Monte Rosa, and its north
outlier to 14,026 feet in the Finsteraarhorn. The mean
level of the Aar valley has been estimated at 1378 feet,
its lowest point being the low-water mark of the Rhine at
Basel (914 fset)^ the lowest level within the Confedera-
tion, however, is on the Lago Maggiore (646 feet).
According to the most recent calculations, the total area
of the Confederation is 15,964'2 square miles, of which
71-7 percent., or 11,443'3 square miles, are classed as
" productive," 3032 square miles being covered by forests,
and 132-3 square miles by vines. Of the other 28'3 per
cent., or 4520'9 square miles (classed as " unproductive "),
709-9 are occupied by glaciers, 520-3 by lakes, 90 by
beds of rivers and streams, and 624 by towns, villages,
and buildings. Of the whole area the three great cantons
of the Orisons, Bern, and Valais take up 7439'9 square
miles, or nearly one-half, while, if to them be added Vaud,
Ticino, and St Gall, the extent is raised to 10,552 square
miles, or about two-thirds of the entire Confederation.
_ The total area of Switzerland (15,964'2 square miles) is
distributed over four great river basins (draining to three .
different seas) in the following .proportions: — Rhine,
11,166; Rhone, 2717; Po, 1358; and Inn, 721.
The Rhine basin is by far the largest in Switzerland, and drains
of course to the North Sea. The Khine itself is formed of two
branches,— Voider Rhine (valley of Dissentis) and Hinter Rhina
(from the Splugen and St Bernardino),— which unite at Rcichenau,
near Chur. Tlie joint stream receives several mountain torrents,
e.\pands into the Lake of Constance, and then turns west, receiv-
ing the Thur, and opposite Waldshut the great stream of the Aar,
finally leaving Swiss territory at Basel, -(vhere it turns north. Its
main affluent is the Aar, the basin of which covers no less than
6794 square miles. This stream rises in the glaciers of the Ber-
nese Oberland, e.^pands into the Lakes of Brienz and of Thun,
receives from the left the Kander, the Saane, and the Zihl, and
from the right the Emme, as well as (near Briigg, that great
meeting-place of the i\'aters) the Reuss flowing through the Lake of
Lucerne and the united stream of the Linth and the Limmat flowing
through the Lakes of Wallenstadt and Zurich. It is interesting
lustorically to note the fact that the thirteen cantons wljich till
1798 formed the Confederation are all comprised in the Rhine basin,
thi ten oldest {i.e., all before 1500) being within that of the Aar,
and that it was only after 1798 that certain Romansch-, French-, and
Italian-speaking "allies" and subject lands — with their respective
river basins— were tacked on. The Rhone rises in the glacier of
the same name and flows west, receiving the mountain torrents of
the Visp, the Lonza, and the Dranse, besides others, expands into
the Lake of Geneva, and a little way from Geneva quits Swiss terri-
tory on its way to the Mediterranean. The main stream flowing
from Switzerland to the Po basin is the Ticino (from the St
Gotthard), which widens into the Logo Maggiore; another stream
expands into the Lake of Lugano; and others run into the Lake
of Como,— all finally joining the Po in the Lombard plains, thus
draining to the Adriatic. The Ramm, flowing through the Miinster-
thai, joins the Adige and so drains into the Adriatic. The Inn basin
is composed of the upper part of the river (above Martiusbruck) and
drains into the Danube and so into the Black Sea.
Most of the great Swiss riverg, being in their origin mere moun-
tain torrents, tend to overflow their banks, and hence much ii
required and has been done to prevent this by embanking them,
and regaining arable land from them. So the Rhine (between
R.igatz and the Lake of Constance), the Rhone, the Aar,. the Eeusa;l
and in particular we may mention' the great work on the Linth'
(1S07 to 1822) carried out by J. Konrad Escher, who earned by his
success the surname of "'Von der Linth," and on the Zihl near
the Lakes of Neuchatel and Bienne, while the diversion of the
Kander from its junction with the Aar at Uetendorf to a channel
by which it flows into the Lake of Thun was effected as early as
1714.'-
There are very many lakes in Switzerland^ The two largest Lake*
(Geneva and Constance) balance each other at the sonth-west and
north-east comers of the Confederation. The following list gives
details regarding the fifteen over 4 square miles in extent. It will
be noticed that of thefee twelve are in the Rhine basin (eleven of
1 The hydrograpliic bureau of Switzerland publishes annually a series of
praphie tables representing the seasonal changes in the volume of all the lin*
portaiit 1 Wei's.
3
SWITZERLAND
777
them being in tliat of the Aar), two in the Po basin, one in the
Rhone basin, and none at all in the In basin. It has been esti-
mated that in the Khine basin tlicre are no fewer than nineteen
large and thirty-seven small lakes. « Of the smaller Swiss lakes we
may mention the Dauben See, and the Oeschincn See, as well as
the iliirjelen See close to the Gross Aletsch glacier. There are of
course an infinite number of Alpine tarns.
v\rea In
Stean Height
Approximate
Name of Lake.
River Busfii.
.Soiiaro
Miles.
above Sea
Level in Feet.
Depth in
Feet.
Geneva*
Rhone.
223
1230-3
984-3
Constance*..
Rhine.
208-1
1305-8
fe-J-5
Neuchatel ...
Aar, Rhine.
92-3
1427-2
472-4
Maggiore* ...
Ticino, Po.
82-7
646-3
1230-3
Lucerne
Reiiss, Aar, Rhine.
43-7
1433-7
?853
Zurich
Limmat, Aar, Rhine.
33-8
1341-9
469-1
Lugano*
Po.
19-4
889-1
902-2
Thun
Aar, Rhine.
18-5
1837-3
711-9
Bienne
Aar, Rhine.
162
1423-9
255-9
Zue
Reuss, Aar, Rhine.
Aar, Rhine.
148
11-5
1368-1
1851
1321 4
856-4
Rrienz
Morat
Aar, Rhine.
/ Linth, Limmat, \
Aar, Rhine. /
10-5
8-9
1427-2
1394-4
157-4
c. 500
Wallenstadt.
Sempach
Hallwyl
Aar, Rhine.
5-4
1663-4
? ...
Aar, Rhine.
4
1483
?1522-S
The lakes marked * aiu only partly in Swiss territory.
There are a great number of waterfalls in Switzerland, the loftiest
being that of the Staubbach (1001 feet), in the valley of Lauter-
brannen, or "Clear Springs" (Bernese Oberland). In the Ober-
land, too, -we find the Handeck (200-220 feet), near the source of
ftie Aar, while the Reichenbach descends iu seven falls and the
Ciessbach in thirteen. The falls of the Rhine at Schatfhausen
contain an enormous mass of water, though they are only 82 feet
in height. In southern Switzerland the Pissevache fall (200 feet),
iri the Rhone valley, is the best known. ^
Dr A. Heim' reckons up 471 glaciers in Switzerland and'462
5n Austria, his figures for Fiance and Italy being untrustw-orthy
and incomplete; but Switzerland has 138 glaciers of the first rank
(i.e., over 4^ miles long) as against 71 in Austria, though Austria
has 391 of the second rank (i.e., between 4f and 3 miles long) as
against 333 iu Switzerland. The distribution of the Swiss glaciers
mserves notice, for in eleven cantons (that is, half of those in the
Confederation) there are no glaciers at all, while in five others
(Unterwalden, Vaud, St Gall, Schwyz, and Appenzell) they only
Eover about 13 snuare miles out of 709-9 square miles of ice
and snow in the Confederation, accoi-ding to the official survey.
Valais heads the list with 375-1 square miles, then come the
Grisons (138-6), Bern (111-3); Uri (44-3), Glarus (13-9), and
Ticino (13-1). The longest glacier in the Alps is the Gross Aletsch
in the Bernese Oberland, 15 miles long; it has a basin of 49-8 square
miles and a maximum breadth of 1968 yards. In point of length
the Unteraar glacier comes next (10-4 miles), followed by the
Corner and Viescher glaciers (each 9-4 miles). The lowest point
to which a Swiss glacier is known to have descended is 3225 feet,
attained by tiie Lower Grindelwald glacier in 1818. Dr Heim has
ascertained that the maximum annual snowfall in the Alps takes
place in the lower snow regions, a conclusion which the present
■writer can confirm fioni personal experience gained on the ascent
of several of the highest Oberland peaks in January 1874 and 1879.
Dr Heim states that in the central Alps of Switzerland the limit of
perpetual snow varies from 9259 to 9023 feet. See Glaciek.
In Swit;!erlanil, where the height above sea-leval varies fi-om 640
feet (Lago Maggiore) to 15,217 feet (Monte Rosa), we naturally find
very many climates, from the regions of olives, vines, oaks and
beeches, pines and firs, to those of high mountain pastures,
rhododendrons, and of eternal snow (see Alps). As regards the
duration of the seasons, there is a corresponding variety. It has
been reckoned that, while in Italian Switzerland winter lasts only
three months, at Glarus it lasts four, in the Engadine six, on the
St Gotthard eight, on tlio Great St Bernard nine, and on the St
Thi5odule always. A painstaking writer has calculated that, if
Switzerland were flattened out into a [ilain, and reduced to the
level of the sea, it would be comprised between the isotherms
61°-8 and 55°-4 F. As a matter of fact the mean temperature
varies no less th.an 344°, for at Bellinzona it is 64^^ F., at Geneva
49j°, at Basel 49J°, at Cliur 48J°, at Intorlaken 48°, while on the
Great St Bernard it sinks to 30", and on the St Theodule to 20°.
The Alps form the boundary between the region where the rain-
fall is greatest in summer and that where it is greatest in autumn,
the winter and spring rainfall varying but slightly. These are
the percentages of the annual rainfall in Switzerland at different
•easons ; —
* In hia epocli. making worl(. JJandbvch tier Ottticfierkunde. Stuttgart, IHSfi.
Rhine Basin: winter, 18; spring, 25; summer, 33; autumn, 24.
Jilionc Basin: ,, 21; ,, 26; ,, ,26; „ 27.,
Ticino Basin: -„■; ,'12; • ,, ;26;' i„ ■27; ^,^ t5j
It has been shown by careful observations th.tt the rain (or siiu«r)
fall is greatest as we approach the Alps, whether from the north
or south, the flanks of the gre.it ranges and the valleys openin;"
out towards the plains receiving much nioie r.tin than the higii
Alpine valleys enclosed on all sides by lofty ridges. Tlins the annual
rainfall is 35 inches at Basel but 64J at Beatenberg (above Inter-
laken) and 09 at Schw-yz, rising to 88 on the Griinsel and 102 oa
the St Bernardino, and faTliiig again at Lugano to 63. Dr Heim
calculates that the percentage of snow in the total annual rainfall iif
Switzerland varies fiora 63 on the Great St Kirnard to 6 at Qcneva^
the mean fall of 34 being at Pl.itta in the Grisons. Thunderstorms
generally vary in frequency with the amount of Miufall, being most
common near the great ranges, and often very local. The floods
caused by excessive rainfall aie sometimes very destructive, as in
1839, 1852, and 1868, while the same cause leads to landslrjis, of
which the most remarkable have been those on the Rossberg abovs
Goldau (1806), at Evionnaz (1835), and at Elm (1881).
As rcgnrds the larger cyclones or storms of Europe, a south wiml
in the Alps indicates that the barometrical minimum is in the
English Channel, a west wind that it is in the North Sen, a nortit
wnd that it is in the Eastern Alps, and an east wind that tho
depression is in the Mediterranean, about Corsica. When the baro-
metrical minimum shifts from the Atlantic over Scandinavia to
Russia, a south-west wind iuthe Alps is Ibllowed by west and then
north winds. Tho " fohn " is tho most remarkable of tho local
winds in Switzerland, — a strong south-west or south wind, very
liot and very dry. It was formerly supposed to come from tho
Sahara, but is now held to be a south-west or south wind which,
saturated with moisture, crosses the Alps, precipitating a copious
rainfall in its couise ; commencing its descent in tho norlhcm
valleys with a high temperature for these great heights, it neces-
sarily increases in temperature and di-yness as/it passes into th&
high pressure of lower levels. Dr Hann concludes from observa-
tion that, assuming the air to cool at the latt! of 1° C. in every 100
metres of ascent, and the ridge crossed by the fuhu to be 2008
metres iu height, the heat lost on the ascent is only 0°-5 C, so
that when Vhe fohn reaches the north side it will have a heat,
not of 10°, but of 20°. Tho fohn occurs most freijuently in,
spring. Other local winds in the Alps are those which blow up a
valley in the morning and down it in the evening, due to the
heating of the air -in tho valleys by the sun during the day and
its cooling by terrestrial radiation at night. The cloud streamers
from great Alpine peaks are due to the condensing of the moistuio
in a layer of air, and, as the moisture is carried away by the winij,
so the streamer is dissolved.
For all these reasons Switzerland has many varieties of climate;
and, while, owing to the distribution of tho rainfall, the Ticino
and Aar valleys are very fertile, the two great trenches between
.the main chain and its north outlier, though warm, aie less pro-
ductive, as the water comes from the rivers and notlromthe skies.,
Asjihalt is the only raw mineral product the export of which Mineral
exceeds the import; and it is obtained only in the canton ofprodDct\
Neuclultel, where the output of the Val de Travels deposit in 1883
reached 28,000 tons. Though iron ores are known (according to
Weber and Brosi's mnp) to exist iu 13 localities, gold in 3, silver
in 22, copper in 29, lead in 27, nickel and cobalt in 2, tin in 1,
sulphur in 3, Switzerland is practically dependent for all its metals
on foreign supply. While 35,161 tons of iron were obtained in
1870 (mostly from mines in tho Jura), only 19,045 were obtained in
1881. True coal is wholly absent; lignites, however, occur both
in tho Tertiary and the Quaternary formations, the most importaut
workings being those of Kapfnach, L'tznach, Morschwyl, Durnten,'
Lutry, Conversion, and Oron. In 1870 the output was 33,304 tons,
in 1881 only 6184. Anthracite occurs in Valais. Peat is commoi^
in many parts. Salt (42,000 tons) is procured from wells in Aargau;
Basel, and Vaud. The first salt-deposit was discovereil in 1836 at
Rothenlnius (Basel canton), that of Rheinfehlen in 1844, of Rybnrg
in 1845, and of Kaiseraugst in 1865. Tho wells at Bex have bocii
worked since 1554.a
Game is not abundant in any part of Sw-itzerland; and rigorous
game laws and other devices have been adopted iu order to increase
tho number of wild animals. In 1875 a law w.is pas.sed in accord,
ance with which a commission marked out certain reservations or
"districts francs pour la chnsse ou gibicr de montagne"; and in
1881 their limits were revised for another term of five years, in-
cluding HQ area of 5268 square kilometres in 1885. Tliero were
then within this urea 8487 chamois and about 106 roebuck. Tho
chamois were most abundant in tho Grisons, Bern, Glarus, and
Freiburg. In the Alpine regions the marmot and Alpine bare nro
still common, and their numbers have increased uniler tho pro-
tective system. Grouse, partridge, wild durk, and spipo nro tho
» SccStockHlper, /?<7/»/'orMi/r/<:i/roM;7f tC PrtHtuitl Mrutt t.'xr. dV'at.S. i luH k
1SS3, and Hermann Strentt. " Itohproilukto u. dcrcn Funiioitc In Ucr SchweJj,-' i?
Zeilicll. /. scliKtir. UtadmH, 1884.
XX U. — qS
778
SWITZERLAND
chief game birds. A close time protects birds not considered
game, and tho federal council in 1885 appointed a commission to
3raw up a catalogue of all birds found in Switzerland, and to
establish stations for collecting facts of ornithological interest.
Attention has recently been directed to the diminution of the
supply of freshwater fish, due in part to over-fishing and in part
to pollution of the streams. It is estimated that the fish-bearing
waters iu the whole country cover an aggregate area of 1581 square
kilometres (1348 belonging to lakes and 233 to rivers and streams),
the cantons with the greatest areas being Vaud (443 square kilo-
metres), Bern (161), Thurgau (139), and Neuchatel (98). Close
seasons, and iu certain places close years, have been established,
and numerous fish-hatcheries are also in operation (57 in 1885), the
species treated being mainly salmon, lake trout, river trout, gray-
ling (ombre), red trout or Rothel, tho Swiss Coregonics, American
Coregonus (0. albus), Sahno foniinalis, and tlie "mader." No fewer
than 5,709,432 fish were introduced into tho lakes and rivers in
1'885. By a law of 1884 the federal council is allowed to defray
one-third of the expense of the construction of fisli-ladders. Id
1882 a Swiss fisheries society was founded. Conventions in regard
to tlie fisheries l)ave been signed with Italy, France, and Germany.
Great importance attaches to the domestic animals of Switzer-
land. In 187B there were 284,473 owners of live-stock, iu 1886
289,610. The following are the numbers for those two years: —
horses, 100,935 and 98,333; cattle, 1,035,930, 1,211,713; sheep,
367,549, 341,632; goats, 396,055, 415,916; pig3, 334,515, 394,451;
mules, 3145, 2741; asses, 2113, 2042; and beehives, 177,825,
207,180. See Z. f. schw. Statislik, 1886.
The following table gives a variety of details regarding the
twenty-two Swiss cantons, arranged in the order of their extent.'
In the first column the languages principally spoken in the dilfereut:
cantons are indicated by letters, as described in the appended foot-
note, and the percentages of population speaking them in 1880 are
given. In every case the official language is tliat of the majority,
with the exception of Freiburg, where it is German. The same
column' also shows the various executive ami legislative authorities.
Canton,*
.
Grisona (Graubiinden) ..G 46, R 40, 1 14.. K ; L
Bern (Berne) G85, F15 A; L
Valais (Wall's) F67, G32 D;L
Vaud(Waadt) F89, G9 B; M
Ticino(Tessin) I99'0 C; N
St Gall (Sankt Galleu)..G 99-1 A ; L
Zurich G98-8 A;0
Freiburg (Fribourg) F 69, G 31 D; L
Lucerne (Luzern) G 99'5 A; L
Aargaa (Argovie) G 99 '6 A; L
Uri G76, 122 A, E; P
Thurgau (Thurgovie), ..G99-5 A; L
Schwyz G96-9 A; 0
Neuchatel (Neuenburg).F 75, G 24 B; M
Soleure (Solothurn) G98-9 A; 0
„, ,, rObwald..G99-3 A;P
Unterwalden|jjij„^lj ggg.Q ^Ip
Glarus G 99 3 H ; P
Basel (Basle, J Urban ...G 96-3 A; L
Bale) ( Rural".... G 99 -5 A; Q
. „ i Outer G99-6 A;P
AppenZell | J^^^^^ ^gg.g g.p
Schaffhausen G99-4..; A; L
Geneva (Genf, Ginevra).F 85, Gil B; M
Zug G98-3 A;0
Date of
Admis-
sicn.
1803
1353
1815
1803
1803
1803
1351
1481
1332
1803
1291
1803
1291
1815
1481
I 1291
1352
150lj
5 1513!
1501
1815
1352
Date of
Present
Constitution.
1880
1846
1875
1861 (72)
1830 ('83)
1861 (75)
1869
1857
1875 ("82)
1852 (77)
1850-51
1869
1876-77
1858 ('SO)
1875
1867
1877
1842 ('80)
1875
1863
1876
I 1872
1876
1847 (79)
1873 ('81)
Area in
Engllsii
Square
MUes.
2754-0
2659-5
20-26 -3
1244-3
10S8-0
779-5
665-9
644-4
579-4
542-0
415-4
381-4
3507
311-8
305-9
295-4
266-8
13-8
1627
93-4
68-5
113-6
107-8
92-3
'opulation.
1850.
89,840
457,921
81,527
199,453
117,397
169,508
250,134
99,805
13-2,789
199,7-20
14,500
88,819
44,159
70,679
69,613
25,135
30,197
77,385
54,869
35,278
63,932
17,456
1860.
94,991
53-2,164
100,216
233,730
130,777
210,491
317,576
116,400
134,806
198,645
2.3,694
99,552
51,235
103,732
80,424
27,348
34,213
124,372
64,799
38,348
101,695
2-2,994
Density
per
Sqiiave
Mile.
Deputies
in Na-
tional
Katll.
35
205
500
194
122
281
500
181
234
364
57
295
151
343
272
94
124
769
66
335
1013
259
5
27
5
12
7
10
16
6
7
10
1
5
3
5
4
1
1
2
3
3
3
I
2
5
1
Cantonal Caplltil.
Popula-
tion of
Cupitals.
Chur
Bern
Sion
Lausanne...
Bellinzona..
St Gall
Ziiricli
Freiburg....
Lucerne
Aarau
Altorf
Frauenfeld.
Schwyz ....
Neuchatel..
Soleure...'..
Sarncn
Stanz
Glarus.
Basel
Liestal
Appenzell..
Hcrisau
Schafiliausen.
Geneva
Zug
8,889
44,087
4,871
30,179
2,436
21,438
75,956
11,546
17,850
5,944
2,901
5,811
6,543
16,612
7,668
4,039
2,210
5,530
61,399
4,679
4,302
11,082
11,795
68,320
4,924
* Languages, — G, German: F, French; I; Italian; R, Romansch, Executive Authority. — A. Regieruncsrath; B, Conseil d-^tat; C, Consiglio tli stato; D,
Staatsrath; E, Standeskoinmission ; H, Rath u. Standeskommission ; K, Kleiner Ratli u. Standeskommission. Legislatiee Authority, — L, Grosser Ralli: M. Gi-nnd
conseil; N, Gran c-ons>tclio; 0, Kantonsrath; P, Landsgemeinde; Q, Landralti. For details regarding the Stiinde Rath, of 44 members, an*)! the Natioaal Rath, o£
145 (made up as shown in column 8 above), see p. 795 ; and for information regarding the referendum in the cantons, see p. 7f)6.
In 1880 there were 960-8 males to every 1000 females, a rathei
smaller preponderance of females than in England and M'alea.
For every 1000 above the age of 50 there are 176 unmarried
females to 154 unmarried males. Tho disproportion of the sexes
in the country at large is mainly due to emigration ; but in certain,
cantons it is partly due to excess of women in the immigrants
from neighbouring countries. In Uri, Scliwyz, and Valais only is
there an excess of males. In every 1000 of the jiopulation tliero'
were, in 1860, 296 under 15 years of age, 620 between 15 and 60,
years, and 84 upwards of 60; tlie corresponding figures in 1870
being 315, 595, and 90; and for 1880, 319, 593, and 88. The pi-0-
portion of married persons to the total number of the adults (47-4>
per cent.) is less tlian in most other countries, though this pro-
Census The first federal census of which the results were published was
fetume. neither quite synchronous (April 1836 to February 1838) nor quite
systematic. That of 1850 took account only of the population with
right of residence {popuI(itio7i domiciliic), and not of the population
actually present at the date of the census. In 1860 the census was
declared decennial. The following are the numbers returned : — •
March, 18-23, 1850, 2,392,740; December, 10, 1860, 2,507,170;
December 1, 1870, 2,669,147; December 1, 1880, 2,846,102.
As regards density of population, Switzerland, w-ith 198-5 persons
to the square mile, stands considerably a'bove Scotland (125) and a
long way below England and Wales (446). The Alpine region is
the sparsest generally, though certain districts, like Appenzell
Ausser-Rhodeu, are very densely peopled ; the Jura region has a much
higher ratio ; and the densest region of all is the Swiss plateau:
If we draw an irregular line from the east end of the Lake of
Geneva by Thun, Lucerne, and the south of the Lake of Zurich to
Rheineck, we shall have nearly all the more densely populated
portions of the country to the north, the only notable exception
being -what might be called the Swiss peninsula of Lugano. A
large proportion of the country to the south has only from 1 to 19
inhabitants to the square kilometre. The districts where the
density rises above 250 to the square kilometre are that to the
south-east and south-west of Geneva, the vicinity of Lausanne,
the districts of Chaux de Fonds, Neuchatel, Biel, Bern, Soleure,
Basel, a large tract along both sides of the Lake of Zurich, and the
district between St Gall and Rheineck. The districts in which an
increase of population had taken place between 1870 and 1880 are
curiously distributed. An increase of 30 per cent, or over occurs
only in the environs of Basel and iu two large areas of which the
chief centres are Altdorf and Airolo. Decrease was prevalent
throughout a large part of the better populated regions of the
north, while a certain increase had taken place throughout much
lof tha south-western area.
portion has been gradually raised both before and since 1880 byi
certain legislative changes, including tho new marriage law in!
1874. At the same time the average fertility of the marriages ha^
decreased. Early marriages on the part of the males are slightljl
more fiequent than in England. Divorce and separation ai-e fre-
quent. Thus in 1876-80 they formed nearly 5 per cent, of the
marriages, while in Belgium and the Netherlands they do not
reach 1 per cent. As regards the marriage relations of the different
creeds, the five years 18i'7-81 showed that (excluding the cantOB
of Geneva, where the creed is not registered) there w-ere only
0"7 separations per 1000 existing marriages where both husbagcl,
and wife were Catholics, 2-8 where both were Protestants, 3'2
w-here the husband was a Catholic and the wife a Protestant,'
and 4-5 where the husband was a Protestant and the wife.*
Catholic.
The percentage of illegitimate births during'the years 1871-771
was 5-7, 5-2, 5'1, 4-8, 4-4, 5'0, and 4'9 respectively, a rate almosc
identical with that of England and Wales. Infant mortality has
been decreasinff. While 20-32 per cent.' of the quick-born children^
of 1876 died iu llicir first year, only 17-3 died in 1885.
SWITZERLAND
779
The following table .shows the annual number of births, ic. : —
MaiTiagi-s.' Per 1000. Bu-tbs.
Per 1000.
Deaths.
Per 1000.'
1871-75
1876-80
1881-84
1885
21,732 8-0
20,740 7-4
19,708 6-8
20,105 6-8
85,882 ! 31-6
91,197 1 32-5
85,612 1 29-6
83,579 1 28-6
61,479 23-8
64,671 231
61,082 21-1
'61,548 21-0
ties
At the census of 18S0 there were in Switzerland 211,035
foreigners (112,311-males and 98,724 females), or one foreigner to
every 13 or 14 of the population. The origin of this alien element
was Tery various : — from Alsace-Lorraine, 2607 males, 2732 females ;
SermaoT, 43,923, 45,991 ; Austria-Hungary, 8389, 4929; Italy,
27,821, 13,709 ; Spain and Portugal, 175, 93 ; France, 26,264,
27,389; Holland and Belgium, 445, 493; Great Britain, 1027,
1785; Russia, 599, 685 ; Servia, Roumania, and Greece, 119, 35;
Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, 194, 188; America, 563, 548.
Between 1868 and 1877 the average number of emigrants from
Switzerland was 3516 per annum ; between 1878 and 1882 it was
?196. In 1883, 18S4, and 1885 the figures were respectively
13,502 (12,758 of them native-born Swiss), 9608, and 7583. By
far the greater proportion of the emigrants found their way to
America, and mainly to the United StateSj though some of the
South American republics (as Chili) attract a considerable number.
lu the five years 1876-80 3172 persons on an average left for
Korth America annually, 99 for Central America, 694 for South
America, and 107 for Australia, while Asia and Africa together
did not count more than 167.
The population is to a very great extent rural. Only three cities
(Zurich, Geneva, and Basel) have a population exceeding 50,000,
and at the census of 1880 only 59 other towns had each more than
4000 inhabitants. Of these Bern (see table above), Lausanne,
Chau.^ de Fonds (22,455), St Gall, Lucerne, Neuchatel, Winterthur
(13^195), Schaffhausen, Biel (11,623), Freiburg, Herisau (11,082),
and Loclc (10,464) exceeded 10,000.
Bliglon. A religious census was taken in 1850, 1860, 1870, and 1880; in
the first case only three categories were recognized — Catholic,
Protestant, and Jew; in 1860 and 1870 four — Catholic, Protestant,
Christians of other denominations, and non-Christian. After much
discussion the federal council, which had proposed to drop the
religious census in 1880, was prevailed upon by the arguments of
ten caiitons to adopt a similar classification in 1880. The figures
ina870 were— 1,566,347 Protestants, 1,084,369 Catholics, 11,435
members of other sects, and 5996 Jews; in 1880 the Protestants
nnmbeted 1,657,109, the Catholics 1,160,782, the Jews 7.V3, and
miscellaneous 10, 838. The Jews are most strongly represented in
the cantons of Bern (1315 in 1880), B,isel (1053), Aargau (1234),
Zurich (806), Neuchatel (089), and Geneva (562).
It has been estimated that, of the whole area of Switzerland,
1,642,471 acres are under arable cultivation and 1,917,632 acres in
forest, while 2,806,113 acres are altogether unproductive. Agricul-
tural statistics have never been systematically registered by the
federal authorities, and only a few of the cantons have devoted seri-
ous attention to the matter. Herr C. MLihlemann {Z. f. schv;eiz.
Stat., 1886) gives the following estimate of the area cropped and
the annual value (in thousands of francs) of the produce : —
frt.
iltural
Acres. ! Value_,
Wlicnt
Spelt _
Rye
Barley
Out3„
Potatoes
Beet ami turnips.
Carrels «...
Ml.-^etl fodder
Clover
I-uce)7ie
Espareet
153,008
103.603
8C,085
oS.ClO
122,045
£G4,a3S
43,850
1C,05G
333,012
217,807
27.744
80,324
30,054
43.S4C
18,805
5,057
20,408
70,850
13,254
3,148
80,077
06,048
7,440
19,340
Acres. Value.
Other foddcrplantsj
Pease and beans.
Rape ,
' Hemp and flax ..
Cliicory ,
Tobacco.
Vecetables
j Mcado^TS,* good..
,, medluml
,, poor '
Paaturesond*'alp3"j 1
Vineyards
}5,532
9,574
1,0C0
12,403
02
1,7.30
41,545
529,122
009,805
576,940
,962,003
70,020
2,000
1,000
486
6,101
IS
701
4,842
153,.'.12
82,928
28,115
130,001
02,359
The vnlue of the fruit produce is given as 127,418,391 francs
(apples, 71,316,992; pears, 38,656,150).
fhe name "allinend" is given to land still held in common,
whether arable, meadow, pasture, or forest. Tlic main part of the
consists of pasture and forest land.
"alliuends" now existing
The pasture lands, "alps," or high mountain pastures comprise
"voialpcn," used in the spring, "mittelalpen," or cow-pastures,
and " lioclmlpcn ■' (sometimes 90Q0 feet above the sea), for slicep
and goats. They are most numerous in Neuchatel, Bern, and
Grisons. The capital value of the whole is estimated at 200,000,000
francs or more_. Of the 3032 miles of forest land 127 3 belong to
the state, 2007 '1 to "communes'' or private associations, and 897
to privnto persons. The fcdoril Government lins done much to
reallorest tracts, both by it-'i-If and bv slimiilatiDg cantonal elfort.
and ^-enerally to promote the 9oionc» of forestry.
Tho silk indtistiy ol Switzerland w*. already established at
Zurich and Basel in tho latter half of th» 13th centurj- ; but after
a period of i)rosi>erity it died out. It was again introduced by
the Protestants expelled from Locarno in 1555. Cr.ipe, velvet,
and talTctas were the favourite products of the first stage; ribbon-
weaving came later with another band of Locarno refugees and
the French Huguenots. In 1872 116 firms were engaged in the
silk trade, in 1881 134. Between those dates the employees had
increased from 39,940 to 49,816 (65,000 in 1883), and tlie wages'
from 15,382,186 to 19,815,453 francs. In 1881 2,153,100 kilos u^
raw silk and 1,067,700 of silk-waste were imported ; and the export
of silk goods, ribbons, and ferret silk was 1,152,300, 1,965,400, and
819,000 kilos respectively. Cotton begun to bo manufactured in'
Switzerland in tho 15th centuiy, and power-loom weaving w«a
introduced in 1830. The industry has owed a good deal to the
abundant water-power of the country. In 1881 there were
about 23,000 cotton looms; and cotton-spinning employed about
60,000 spindles. The workers numbered 88,046 in 1883. Bleach-
ing and cloth-dressing have attained a great development in tbei
neighbourhood of St Gall, both in the cantons of St Gall andl
Appenzell. Printworks are especially numerous in Glarus. Aargaof
is the chief seat of the woollen manufacture, having 4 millions ofi
the total production valued at llj million francs. Linen, the first
of the Swiss textile fabrics to find its way to a foreign market, ia
no loUjjer manufactured on a large scale. Embroidered goods ara
the great specialty of the export trade of eastern Switzerland,— «
the cantons of St Gall, Appenzell, Thurgau, and part of Zurichj
In flat-stitch machine embroidery 15,256 workers were employed
in 1872, and 27,801 in 1880 (43 and 47 per 1000 inhabitants). In
the different departments of hand embroidery 33,359 persons wcra
employed in 1881. The St Gall market is also supplied by a largq
number of workers in Vorarlberg. The value of the embroiderea
goods exported from the consular district of St Gall for Amc-rica
alone increased from 19 to nearly 30 million francs between 1879
and 1882. Straw-plaiting is an important industry in Aargao
(centre at 'Wohlen), Ticino, andFreiburg. In 1867-68, when tho
trade was at its best, the total export was worth lO.i million francs.
■Watch and clock making is a specially Swiss industry, giving
employment to 44,000 workers in 1883. In Geneva alone 298
establishments were at work in 1882 in some department or otheo
of tho manufacture. The valley of Joux (Vaud and Saint Croix);
Chaux de Fonds, Locle, Les Brenets, Les Fonts, Fleuvier (Neu^
chatel), Bienne, Porrentruy, Saint Imier (Bern), Granges (Soleure),
■ffaldenberg (Basel), and Schaffhausen are all important seats ol
the craft. 'The condensed-milk industry of Switzerland is alsot
well known. The exjiorts in 1875 amounted to 4,261,800 kilos,
and in 1883 to 12,086,900. A similar article is Nestle's infants'
food from Vevey. Swiss cheese (Emmenthal and Gruy(:re) has s
widespread reputation ; the export increased from 5,093,100 kiloai
•in 1851 to 25,959,400 in 1883. The production of beer in
Switzerland was 6,160,000 gallons in 1857 and 20,240,000 in
1882; in the latter year 289,564 gallons were exported. The dis-
tilleries (1006) produce about 990,000 gallons of pure alcohol
annually. Allusion can only be made here to the great chemical
industries of tho country, its potteries, paper-mills, engineering
works, gun-factories, &c
Wood-carving was one of the most ancient, as it is now ona of
the best known, of the minor arts of Switzerland. The great seat
of the modern industry is the Bernese Oberland, where tho peasanra
during the long evenings of winter for centuries devoted themselves
to producing artistic articles in wood. It was regularly organized
by Christian Fischer in Brienz (1825), and is now mainly in the
hands of a company, founded in 1881, which associates capitalists
and workmen in the profits. In 1870 1139 men and 56 women
were employed throughout Switzerland in this depaitincut ; in
1880 the numbers were 1202 and 105.'
Owing to the original abundance of timber it was almost the only Woods*
material employed in the building of houses. There are practically hooaea.
three styles : the so-called block-house, in which the logs are laid
one upon the other ; the post-built house, in which uprlgh't posts
and a strong framework are filled in with planks ; and tho " riegol-
haus," in which a framework of wood is filhd in with brick or
stones. In tho cantons of Zurich, Thurgau, and Schafl'lmusen the
ricgclhaus (tho usual form in southern German^') has — chiefly
owing to tho increased cost of timber — displaced the two other
styles, which alono woro in use there till tho beginning of the
17th centnrv.-
In Gsoll-Fcls's Sader ». Icli7nal!sc?ie Kurorle icr Schxoeiz (1380),
605 health stations are mentioned. In Aargail wo have tho hot
springs of Baden and Schin.-.nach (sulphur), tho salt baths ol
Rhcinfclden and Mumpf, tho mineral waters of 'Wildcgg and
BIrraensdorf. In Appenzell there are a number of places between
1 See Rnhn, Oeich. dtr HlJtnJcn Kuitilt <n dtr Schueli; SnlriaberE. Dim
/rohiChniUcrei Jei Dcrner Ot>i.rlan(S3 ; and Davlnct, BtrUhl Hitr IMiichmltcrH.
18'i4.
= See Clndliacll, Di« Uott-ArcMlnlur dcr Sdmii 1886 ; CrnlTcnrlrd inA
StUrler, Archilrrlure Sultie : Hochslllttor, Scfiutiltr Arthiicllur ; Virln, LAtxK,
ritlomqai en Sumt ; Oiid Clodbacli, Dcr Scliiciuer llolitlyt.
780
SWITZERLAND
20OO and 3000. feet above the sea famous as whey-cure stations
(Heiden, GaU, Appenzell, &c;), and > various chalybeate springs
(vVeissbad, Gonten, Heinrichsbad). Basel contains salt baths at
Schweizerhalle, Bienenberg, and Schauenburg. Bern is particularly
rich in baths and Bauatoriums (Lenk, AVeissenburg, Heustrich,
Gurnigol, Engistein, Bhimenstein). Schwarzaeebad is the chief
mineral spring in Freiburg ; Pfaffers-Ragatz in St Gall is world-
famous. The Stachelbcrger Schwefelbad in Glarus is much fre-
quented. The Orisons have almost a superBuity of mineral waters,
some of which (St Moritz, Fideris) are exported in large quantities.
AVeissenstein in Soleure is one of the oldest sanatoriums in Switzer-
land. Lavey and Ee.x in Vaud are respe'ctively famous for their
sulphur and salt baths. In Valais.: Saxon and Leulisrbad are
famous. The importance of altitude in the attractiveness of a
health resort is shown in a table by Guyer, 230 of the hotels for
foreign visitors being upwards of 3900 feet above the sea. Dr F.
Stbpel (Iiidicstrie u. Baitde politik dcr Schxieiz, 1S76) reckoned the
total receipts from foreign visitors at 120,000,000 francs.
The position taken by Switzerland in the trade and commerce of
tho world is remarkable when, the various natural obstacles are
considered— such as absence of raw material for her industries,
costly and difficult means of traisport, and restrictive customs
established by neighbouring countries. The following table shows
the value in thousands of francs of the imports and exports for
1885 (the first year for which we have official returns): —
I Imports.' Expons.
Imports. Exports.
Germany I 249,2G2
France ] 179[l95
Italy I 112,095
Auatrja-Huncai-y ^ 65,603
Great Britain and j
Ireland I 51,604
Belgium '• 26,372
157,620
139,670
60,316
37,726
99,396 '
13,o;
Russia I 21,318
United States ' 17,842
Egypt 12.217
Holland 9,286
Other countries ' 10,658
9,481
77,723
2,188
5,879
56,889
Total 755,452 659,964
England is the great market for silver watches; Germany for
gold watches and musical boxes; France for weaving machinery ;
Russia for mills; ItaJy for miscellaneous machineiy; France for
asphalt; France for butter; France, italy, Germany, and the
United States for cheese; Germany for silk; Germany for cattle;
Fiance for sheep and goats. Cotton manufactures find their way
to France, Italy, Austria, Britain, Germany, Spain, India, Ac. ;
leather to the United States and the Argentine Republic. The
customs increased from 3.9.53.192 francs in 18.50 to 21,342,403 in
• 1884.
_ By article 27 of the federal constitution of 1874, primary instruc-
tion, while left in the charge of the several cantons, is required to
^ be sufficient, obligatory, gratuitous, unsectarian, and under public
control of the state. The primary school age is up to twelve years,
as far ks this general law is concerned, but in some cantons this is
raised to fourteen, fifteen, or sixteen years of age. The first school
year also varies from five to seven in different cantons. Great
variety indeed exists in tlie whole school organization of the several
cantons ; while the chief authority as regards the primary schools
is in some cases vested in an educational department or educational
council, or both, in others it is entrusted to an educational director
with or without a council. Considering the difficulties caused
>n many regions by a sparse population and a rugged country,
primary instruction is well carried out. Funds are provided by
the state, the commune, and often by the private individual. Even
in remote districts the school buildings are generally good. Bern
has been especially active in buQding uew schools. In 1882 218,191
boys and 215,889 girls attended the primary schools. Of these
811,271 had German as their mother' tongue, 97,113 Fionch,
19,864 Italian, and 5832 Romansch. The total number of male
teachers was 5840, and of female teachers 2525; the .iverage pay in
money per male teacher was 1303 francs, for female teachers 822
francs. The primary school property was valued at 137,534,507
Irancs (86,647,507 in 1871). The expense was 14,781,610 francs
(8,708,174 in 1871). The communes contributed 8,349,697 francs
and the state 2,825,722. The expense per scholar was ,'?4'-l. For
the school children who are too poor to obtain proper food and
clothing both public and private assistance is freely rendered.
Besides the ordinary public primary schools, there are a considerable
number of secondary schools(attended in 1882 by 11,155 boys and
8976 girls), preparatory (or intermediate) schools (9556, 2133)
infant schools (10,864, 11,242), schools for adults (12,758, 1110)
and private schools (6057, 4834). In 1882 there were iii all 272,039
males and 244,896 females in receipt of education. Amon'^'the
preparatory schools are the " colleges " or " gymnasiums " and the
industrial schools, one of which exists in almost all the cantonal
capitals as well as at Winterthur, Burgdorf, Porrentruy, Einsiedeln,
Murten, and Brieg.' ,Iu Orisons and Neuchatel normal schools for
the education of teachers are attached to the cantonal schools.
Separate estabh'shments for this purpose exist in the cantons of
Zurich, Bern, Lucerne, Schwyz, Freiburg. Soleure, St Gall, Aargau,
Tliargau, Te'isin, Vaud, and V.-lais. Among the more specialized
institutions of the preparatory jr middle class are the Techniiium
it Winterthur, the veterinary colleges at Zurich and Bern, in*
agricultural schools at Oberstrass and Riitli, and the school of
dentistry at) Geneva. In the four universities of Basel, Bern,
Zurich, and Geneva, each with faculties of law, theology, medicine,
and arts (philosophy), the average number of matriculated stadents
per session of six months was. between 1876 (the first year jofth*
Geneva university) and 1881, in theology 113. in law 188, in medicine
469, and in arts 288,— a total of 1.058, to which must be added 334
non-matriculated. Basel has a preponderance in theology, Bern in
law, Zui-ich in arts. The great federal iiolytechnicum at Zurich
(opened in 1855)comprisesschoolsofarchitecture,civil and industrial
engineerin<r, industrial chemistry, forestry, and agriculture.'
The public libraries of Switzerland are briefly described in vol.
xiv. p. 528, as they existed in 1868 (c/. p. 548); for the learned
societies, see Societies.
The total revenue of the Confederation, which was only 22,049,353
francs in 1869, had increased to 44,308,000 on an average in 1879-
18S_3, and reached 48,392,000 in 1885 ; the expenditure, which was.
21,744,459 at the iirst date, had corresnondingly increased to"
43,312,510 in 1879-1883, and 46,278,685 in 1885.
In Switzerland there is no standing army, but every male citizen
between twenty-four and fprty-four years of age is bound to military
service and drill. The federal forces consist of the Aiisziig, £lUe,
or regular army (men from twenty to thirty-two years old), and the
landwehr (men thirty-two to forty-four years). The whole army
was reorganized in 1874, when extensive functions were assigned to
the military physician in connexion with the recruiting and calling
out of the soldiers. In the ten yeats 1875-84 there was one new
recruit for 111 of the population (foreigners excepted); 49 per
cent, of the total were declared fit for service, 19 per cent re-
manded, and 32 per cent, declared unfit. In the long run, about
61-1 per cent, of the young men of the country passed the standard.
In 1886 the regulars numbered 117,179 and the landwehr 84,046.' ,
Railway construction, which began in 1844, proceeded in earnest!
after the new legislation of 1852, and by the close of 1862 718 miles i
had been constructed ; by 1872 the ordinary lines reached a total
of 1459 miles, with 5 miles of special lines; for 1882 the corre-
sponding figures were 2667 and 81. The annual railway profit*
increased from 105,599,970 francs in 1870-74 to 179,151,112 in
1880-84. Tramways began to be laid down in 1862, and rope
railways in 1877. The railways are mostly in the northern plateau
and connect with the systems of Northern Europe. The only Swiss
line which crosses to the south of the Alps is the St Gotthard (see
Railways). The proposed Simplon railway has already been
carried up the Rhone valley as far as Brieg. The mountainous
character of the country and the special exigencies of its trafl^c
have successfully stimulated to some striking efforts of railway.
engineering. Thus the Kigi railway rises from the Lake of Lucerne
to a height of 5739 feet, with a maximum gr.adient of 250 per
thousand ; that of the Rorschach-Heiden line is 50 per thousand. ■
Switzerland is famous for its well-made and well-kept carriage-
roads. Soine of those that ti'averse the mountain-passes have
been constructed at great expense. One of the most remarkable
is the mule-path down an almost perpendicular rock from the
Gemmi Pass to Leukerbad, made in 1737-40.
Bern has been the seat of the international Postal Union siace
1874 (see Post-Offioe, vol. xix. p. 584). The federalization of
the national post-office dates from 1848,— the different cantons
having previously conducted their postal business according to very
different methods. It is to he noted that this department chargas
itself with the conveyance of passengers as well as mails, — these
numbering831,839 in 1880 and 754,365 in 1885. For other details
sec the table given in vol. xix. p, 585.
The length of telegraph lines increased from 1920 kilometres in
1852 to 6874 in 1884 (wifes from 1920 to 16,618 kilometres), and
the number of despatches from 2876 in 1852, to 1,127,311 in 1884,
the total receipts for the latter year being 2,555,687 francs.
In Switzerland there are thirty-three legalized banks of issne;
their average circulation of notes in 1885 was to the value of
123,431,000 francs. There are 325 sarings banks proper (deposits
246,359,735 francs in 1882) and 162 other institutions which
receive deposits (267,298,548 fr^ncs-in 1«S2). Most of these are
in tho hands of companies or private merchants.
Besides the older but valuable woilis of Fabcr (1756), Fa.«i (I76.'i-C3), mssf
(1770-72). Nomiann (1795-98), Durand (1795-96). Meisler (1796), see llul. gtogr.
itatUtische Gemdlde 4er Schweiz (a series of monographs, published by Huber
and Co. of St. Gall and Bern); Hottinger, Staaishaushatt der tchueU. Bidgm.
1847; Fransclnl. Stat, della Svizzera, Lugino, 1827 and 1817-49; Wipth, AUg^
meine DeschrHbung der Schtceiz; Legoyt and Vogt, La Suisse; Prof. Egli's most
convenient Taschmbuch (1678, ic.) and SditetizrrSundt ; Berlcpsch, HchKciier-
kunde, 1875; and Furrer's comprehensive Volkswirth^haft'Lericon. A Ktatistlcai
bureau was founded in 1860, a statistical society in 1864. Dr Kammcr gives.*
histoiy nf Swiss statistics in Zeilschrifl fur sclmieiz. Stal., 1885, and his successor
Herr Milliet, to whom we are indebted for much of the above Information, ii
engaged on a statistical handbook. (W. A. B. C— H. A. W.)
' See especially C. Grob, StatiitU: iiber der Pnlerrichlsueiun in ,kr Sr/mns
7 parts, 1883. and Dr H- Wettstein, Beric/it iiber Gruppe SO, PtittrricJiltmam
(Zurich Exhibition), 1884.
' Details may be found in the Atmanach de Oolka, 1887.
HISTORY.]
SWITZERLAND
781
' Part II. — History.
The Swiss Confederation is made up of twenty-two small
states, differing from each other in nearly every point, —
religious, political, social, industrial, physical, and linguis-
tic; yet it forms a nation the patriotism of whose members
is universally acknowledged. History alone can supply us
with the key to this puzzle ; but Swiss history, -nhile thus
essential if we would thoroughly grasp the nature of the
Confederation, is very intricate and very local. A firm
hold on a few guiding principles is therefore most desirable,
and of these there are three which we must always bear
in mind. (1) The first to be mentioned is the connexion
of Swiss history with that of the empire. Swiss history is
largely the history of the drawing together of bits of each
of the imperial kingdoms (Germany, Italy, and Burgundy)
for common defence against a common foe — the Hapsburgs ;
and, when this family have secured'to themselves the per-
manent possession of the empire, the Swiss League little
by little wins its independence of the empire, practically
in 1499, formally m 1648. Originally a member of the
empire, the Confederation becomes first an ally, then merely
a friend. (2) The second is the German origin and nature
of the Confederation. Round a German nucleus (the three
Forest districts) there gradually gather other German dis-
tricts ; the Confederation is exclusively German ; and it is
not 'till 1803 and 1815 that its French- and Italian-speak-
ing "subjects" are raised to political equality with their
former masters, and that the Romansch-speaking Leagues
of Rhietia (Graubiinden) pass from the status of an ally to
that of a member of the Confederation. Even now, though
by the constitution three languages (German, French, and
Italian) are recognized as official, the overwhelming majo-
rity of the population of the Confederation is German-sjieak-
ing (2,030,792 out of 2,846,102 in 1880), and the capital
was fixed at Bern by a law of 1848, having previously
shifted between various German-speaking towns, while in
olden days the diet always met in some German-speaking
place. (3) Swiss history is a study in federalism. Based
on the defensive alliances of 1291 and 1315 made between
the three Forest districts, the Confederation is enlarged
by the admission of other districts and towns, all leagued
with the original three members, but not necessarily with
each other. Hence great difficulties are encountered in
looking after common interests, in maintaining any real
union ; the diet was merely an assembly of ambassadors
with powers very strictly limited by their instructions, and
thgre was no central executive authority. The Confeder-
ation is a Staatenhund, or permanent alliance of several
small states. After the break-up of the old system in
1798 we see the idea of a Bundesstaat, or an organized
state with a central legislative, executive, and judiciary,
work its way to the front, an idea which is gradually real-
ized In the constitutions of 1848 and 1874. The whole
constitutional history of the Confederation is summed up
in this transition to a federal state, which, while a single
state in its relations with all foreign powers, in homo
matters carefully maintair.3 the more or less absolute inde-
pendence of its .several members.
Swiss history falls naturally into five great divisions :
I. the origins of the Confederation — up to 1291^; II. the
shaking off dependence on the Hapsburgs — up to 1394
(1474) ; ILL the shaking ofl dependence on the empire —
up to 1499 (1648); IV. the i)oriod of religious divisions
and French influence — up to 1814 ; V. the construction of
an independent state as embodied in the constitutions of
1848 and 1874.
L On August 1, 1291, the men of the valley of Uri
("homines vallis Uranie "), the free community of th« valley
' For the legendary urigiD, see Tell.
of Schwyz (" univcrsitas vallis de Switz "), and the associa-
tion of the men of the low'er valley or Nidwald (" communi-
tas hominum intramontanorura vallis inferioris") formed
an Everlasting League for the purpose of self-defence
against all who should attack or trouble them, a league
which is expressly stated to be a confirmation of a former
one ("antiquam confederationis formam juramento vallatam
presentibus innovando"). This League was the foundation
of the Swiss Confederation.
What were these districts 1 and why at this particular
moment was it necessary for them to form a defensivo
league? The legal and political conditions of all differed.
(a) In 853 Louis the German granted (inter alia) all his
lands (and the rights annexed to them) situated in the
" pagellus LTroni^" to the convent of Sts Felix ana Regula
in Zurich (the present Fraumtinster), of which his daughter
Hildegard was the first abbess, and gave to this district
the privilege of exemption from all jurisdiction save that
of the king (Reichsfreiheit). The abbey thus becamo
l)ossessed of the greater part of the valley of the Reuss be-
tween the present Devil's Bridge and the Lake of Lucerne,
for the upper valley of Urseren belonged at that time to
the abbey of Dissentis in the Rhine valley, and did not
become permanently allied with Uri till 1410. The
privileged position of the abbey tenants gradually led the
other men of the valley to "commend" themselves to the
abbey, whether they were tenants of other lords, or free
men as in the Schachenthal. The meeting of all the
inhabitants of the valley, for purposes connected with the
customary cultivation of the soil according to fixed rules
and methods, served to prepare them for the enjoyment
of full political liberty in later days. The important post,
of " protector " (advocatus or vogt) of the abbey was.
given to one family after another by the emperor as a
sign of trust ; but, when, on the extinction of the house of
Ziiringen in 1218, the office was granted to the Hapsburgs,'
the protests of the abbey tenants, who feared the rapidly"
rising power of that family, and perhaps also the desire o£i
the emperor to obtain command of the St Gotthard i)as3i
(of which the first authentic mention occurs abjut 1236,,
when of course it could only be traversed on foot), led toi
the recall of the grant in 1231, the valley being thus:
restored to its original privileged position, and depending
immediately on the emperor, (b) In Schwyz we must dis-.
tinguish between the districts west an(jl east of Steinon.'
In the former the land was in the hands of many nobles,)
amongst whom were the Hapsburgs ; in the latter there
was, at the foot of the Mythen, a free community oj
men governing themselves, and cultivating their land in
common ; both, however, were politically subject to the
emperor's delegates, the counts of the Ziirichgau, who after
1173 were the ever-advancing Hapsburgs. But in 1240
the free community of Schwyz obtained from the emperor
Frederick II. a charter which removed them from the
jurisdiction of the counts, placing them in immediate
dependence on the emperor, like the abbey men of Uri.
In a few years, however, the Hapsburgs contrived to
dispense with this charter in practice, (c) In Unter-
waldcn things were very different. The u|)j)er valley.
(Obwald or Sarnen, so called because of its position witlr
regard to the Kcrnwald) formed jmrt of the Aargau, the
lower (Nidwald or Stanz) part of the Ziirichgau, while in'
both the soil was owned by many ecclesiastical and lay
lords, among them being the llajjsburgs and the Alsatian
abbey of Murbach. Hence in this district there were nci
privileged tenants, no fret- community, no centre of unity,'
and this explains why Obwald and Nidwald won their
way upward so much, more slowly than their neighbours in
Uri and Schwyz. Thus the curly history and legal position
of these three districts woa very fur from being the same.
782
SWITZERLAND
[history.
In Uri the Hapsbui-gs, save for a brief space, had abso-
'lutely no rights; while in Schwyz, Obwald,' and Nidwald
they were also, as counts of the Ziirichgau and of the
Aargau, the representatives of the emperor.
The Hapsburgs had been steadily rising for many years
from the position of an unimportant family in the Aargau
to that of a powerful clan of large landed proprietors in
Swabia and Alsace, and had attained a certain political
importance as counts of the Ziirichgau and Aargau. In one
or both qualities the cadet or Lauffenburg line, to which
the family estates in the Forest districts round the Lake of
Lucerne had fallen on the division of the inheritance in
1232, seem to have exercised their legal rights in a harsh
manner. In 1240 the free men of Schwyz obtained pro-
tection from the emperor ; in 1244 the Hapsburgs built the
castle of New Hapsburg on a promontory jutting out into
the lake not far from Lucerne, with the object of enforcing
their real or pretended rights. It is therefore not a matter
for surprise that, when, after the excommunication and de-
position of Frederick 11. by Innocent IV. at the council of
Lyons in 1245, the head of the cadet line of Hapsburg
sided with the pope, the men of the Forest districts should
rally round the emperor. Schwyz joined Sarnen, Nidwald
helped Lucerne ; the castle of New Hapsburg was reduced
to its present ruined state ; and in 1 248 the men of
Schwyz, Sarnen, and Lucerne were threatened by the
pope with excommunication if they persisted in uphold-
ing the emperor and defying their hereditary lords the
counts of Hapsburg. The rapid decline of Frederick's
cause soon enabled the Hapsburgs to regain their author-
ity in these districts. Yet these obscure risings have a
double historical interest, for they are the foundation in
fact (so far as they have any) of the legendary stories
of Hapslmrg oppression told of and by a later age, and
these fleeting alliances are doubtless what is represented
by the "antiqua confederatio " of 1291,. Schwyz already
taking the lead, while Uri, secure in its privileged posi-
tion, contented itself with giving a moral support to its
neignbours. After this temporary check the power of
the Hapsburgs continued to increase rapidly. In 1273
the head of the cadet line sold all his lands and rights in
the Forest districts to the head of the elder or Alsatian
line, Rudolph, who a few months later was elected to the
imperial throne, in virtue of which he acquired for his
family in 1282 the duchy of Austria, which now for the
first time became connected with the Hapsburgs. Rudolph
recognized the privileges of Uri but not those of Schwyz ;
and, as he now united in his own person the characters of
emperor, count of the Ziirichgau and of the Aargau, and
landowner in the Forest districts (a name occurring first
in 1289), such a union of ofiBces might be expected to result
in a confusion of rights. On April 16, 1291, Rudolph
bought from the abbey of Murbach in Alsace (of which he
was "advocate") all its rights over the town of Lucerne
and the abbey estates in Unterwalden. It thus seemed
probable that the other Forest districts would be shut oS
from their natural means of communication with the outer
world by way of the lake. Rudolph's death, on July 15
of the same year, cleared the way, and a fortnight later
(August I) the Everlasting League was made between
the fnen of Uri, Schwyz, and Nidwald (the words " et
vallis superioris," i.e., Obwald, were inserted later on the
original seal of Nidwald) for the purpose of self-defence
against a common foe. We do not know the names of the
delegates of each valley who concluded the treaty, nor the
[place where it was made, nor have we any account of the
deliberations of which it was the result. 'The common seal
^-^that great outward sign of the right of a corporate body
to act in its own name without needing to ask the permis-
tlou of any external authority — appears first in Uri iu 1243,
in Schwyz in 1281, in Nidwald not till this very docu-'
ment of 1291 ; yet, despite the great differences in their
political status, they all joined in concluding this League,
and confirmed it by their separate seals, thereby laying
claim on behalf of their union to an independent exist-
ence. Besides promises of aid and assistance in the case
of attack, they agree to punish great criminals by their
own authority, but advise that, in -minor cases and in all
civil cases, each man should recognize the "judex" to
whom he owes suit, engaging that the confederates will,
in case of need, enforce the decisions of the "judex." At
the same time they unanimously refuse to recognize any
"judex" who has bought his charge or is a stranger to
the valleys. All disputes between the parties to the
treaty are," as far as possible, to be settled by a reference to
arbiters, a principle which remained in force for over six
hundred years. "Judex" is a general term for any local
official, especially the chief of the community, whether
named by the lord or by the community ; and, as earlier in
the same year Rudolph had promised the men of Schwyz
not to force upon them a "judex" belonging to the class
of serfs, we may conjecture from this very decided protest
that the chief source of disagreement was in the matter
of the jurisdictions of the lord and the free community,
and that some recent event in Schwyz led it to insist on
the insertion of this provision. It is stipulated also that
every man shall be bound to obey his own lord " conveni-
enter," or so far as is fitting and right.
II. In the struggle for the empire, which extended over Morgs
the years following the conclusion of the League of 1291, we ^nd tl
find that the Confederates support without exception the r'^?f"
anti-Hapsburg candidate. On October 16, 1291, Uri and
Schwyz ally themselves with Zurich, and join the general
rising in Swabia against Albert, the new head of the house
of Hapsburg. It soon failed, but hopes revived when in
1292 Adofi of Nassau was chosen emperor. In 1297 he
confirmed to the free men of Sch^vj'z tlieir charter of 1240,
and, strangely enough, confirmed the same charter to Uri,
instead of their own of 1231. It is in his reign that we
have the first recorded meeting of the "landsgemeinde" (or
assembly) of Schwyz (1294), that of Uri being heard of as
early as 1275. But in 1298 Albert of Hapsburg himself
was elected to the empire. His rule was strict and severe,
though not oppressive. He did not indeed confirm the
charters of -Uri or of Schwyz, but he did not attack the
ancient rights of the former, and in the latter he exercised
his rights as a landowner and did not abuse his political
rights as emperor or as count. In Unterwalden we find
that in 1304 the two valleys were joined together under a
common administrator, a great step forwards to permanent
union. The stories of Albert's tyrannical actions in the
Forest districts are not heard of till two centuries later,
though no doubt the union of offices in his person was a
permanent source of alarm to the Confederation. It was
in his time too that the "terrier" (or list of manors and
estates, with enumeration of all quit rents, dues, &.C., pay-
able by the tenants to their lords) of all the Hapsburg
possessions in Upper Germany was begun, and it was on
the point of being extended to Schwyz and Unterwalden
when Albert was murdered (1308) and the election of
Henry of Luxemburg roused the free men to resist the
officials charged with the survey. Despite his promise to
restore to the Hapsburgs all rights enjoyed by them under
his three predecessors (or maintain them in possession),
Henry confirmed, on June 3, 1309, to Uri and Schwyz.
their charters of 1297, and, for some unknown reason,
confirmed to Unterwalden all the liberties granted by his
predecessor, though as a matter of fact none had been
granted. This charter, and the nomination of one
imperial ballifi to admioister the three districts, had the
1232-1352.J
S W i T Z Jjj K L A M D
'83
effect of placing them all (despite historical differences) in
an identical political position, and that the most privileged
yet given to any of them, — the freedom of the free com-
munity of Schwyz. A few da)'s later the Confederates
made a fresh treaty of alliance with Zurich; and in 1310
the emperor placed certain other innabitants of Schwyz on
the same privileged footing as the free community. The
Hapsburgs were put off with promises ; and, though their
request (1311) for an inquiry into their precise rights in
Alsace and in the Forest districts was granted, no steps
were taken to carry out this investigation. Thus in
Henry's time the struggle was between the empire and
the Hapsburgs as to the recognition of the rights of the
latter, not between the Hapsburgs and those dependent
on them as landlords or counts.
On Henry's death in 1313 the electors hesitated long
between Frederick the Handsome of Hapsburg and Louis
of Bavaria. The men of Schwyz seized this opportunity
for making a wanton attack on the great abbey of
Einsiedeln; with which they had a long-standing quarrel
as to rights of pasture. The abbot caused them to
be excommunicated, and Frederick (the choice of the
minority of the electors), who was the hereditary "advo-
cate " of the abbey, placed them under the ban of the
empire. Louis, to whom they appealed, removed the
ban ; on which Frederick issued a deci'ee by which he
restored to his family all their rights and possessions in
the three valleys and Urseren, and' charged his brother
Leopold with the execution of this order. The Con-
federates hastily concluded alliances with Glarus, Urseren,
Art, and Interlaken to protect themselves from attack on
every side. Leopold collected a brilliant army at the
Austrian town of Zug in order to attack Schwyz, while
a body of troops was to take Unterwaldeu in the rear
by way of the Briinig pass. On November 15, 1315,
Leopold, with from 15,000 to 20,000 men, moved forward
along the shore of the Lake of Egeri, intending to assail
the village of Schwyz by climbing the steep hillside above
the southern end of the lake, through the narrow pass of
Morgar-ten between the mountain and the lake. At the
summit of the pass waited the valiant band of the Con-
federates, from 1300 to 1500 strong. The march up the
ragged and slippery slope threw the Austrian army into
disarray, which became a rout and mad flight when huge
boulders and trunks of trees were hurled from above by
their foes, who charged down on them, and drove them
into the lake. No fewer than 1500 Austrians fell ; their
brilliant cavalry had completely failed before the onset of
the lightly armed Swiss footmen. Leopold fled in hot
haste to Winterthur, and the attack by the Briinig was
driven back by the men of Unterwalden. On December
9, 1315, representatives of the.victorious highlanders met
atBrunnen, on the Lake of Lucerne, not far from Schwyz,
and renewed the Everlasting League of 1291. In their
main lines the two documents are very similar, the later
being chiefly an expansion of the earlier. That of 1315
is in Gorman (in contrast to the 1291 League, which is
in Latin), and has one or two striking clauses largely
indebted to a decree issued by Zurich on July 24, 1291.
None of the three districts or their dependents is to
recognize a new lord without the consent and counsel of
the rest (this is probably meant to provide for an inter-
regnum in or disputed election to the empire, possibly for
the chance of the election of a Hapsburg); strict obedience
in all lawful matters is to be rendered to the rightful lord
in each case, unless ho attacks or wrongs any of the Con-
federates, in which case they are to be free from all
obligations; no negotiations, so long as the "Liinder"
have no lord, are to be i . tered on with outside powers,
save by common agreement of all. Louis solemnly recog-
nized and confirmed the new League in 1316, and in 1318»
a truce was concluded between the Confederates and th^
Hapsburgs, who treat with them on equal terms. Thej
lands an,d rights annexed belonging to the Hapsburgs ia
the Forest districts are fully recognized as they existed in
the days of Henry of Luxemburg, and freedom of com-
merce is granted. But there is not one word about the
political rights of the Hapsburgs as counts of the Ziirich-
gau and Aargau. This distinction gives the key to the
whole history of the relations between the Confederates
and Hapsburgs ; the rights of the latter as landowners
are fully allowed, and till 1801 they possessed estates
within the Confederation ; it is their political rights which
are always contested by the Swiss, who desire to rule
themselves, free from the meddling of any external power.
As early as 1320 we find the name "Swiss" (derived
from Schwyz, which had always been the leader in tlie
struggle) applied to the Confederation as a whole, though it
was not till after Sempach (138G) that it came into popu-
lar use, and it did not form the official name of the Con-
federation till 1803. This is in itself a proof of the great
renown which the League won by its victory at Morgarten.
Another is that as years go by we find other members
admitted to the privileges of the original alliance of the
three Forest districts. First to join the League (1332) was
the neighbouring town of Lucerne, which had grown up
round the monastery of St Leodegar (whence the place
took its name), perhaps a colony, certainly a cell of the
great house of Murbach in Alsace, under the rule of which
the town remained till its sale in 1291 to the Hapsburgs.
This act of Lucerne was opposed by the house of Austria,
but, despite the decision of certain chosen arbitrators in
favour of the Hapsburg claims, the town clung to the
League with which it was connected by its natural position,
and thus brought a new element into the pastoral associa-
tion of the Forest districts, which now surrounded the
entire Lake of Lucerne. Next, in 1351, came the ancient
city of Zurich, which in 1218, on the extinction of the
house of Zaringen, had become a free imperial city in
which the abbess of the Frauniiinster (the lady of Uri) had
great influence, though from 1240 the citizens elected the
council which she had previously named. In 133G there
had been a great civic revolution, headed by Rudolph Brun,
which had raised the members of the craft guilds to a
position in the municipal government of equal power with
that of the patricians, who, however, did not cease intrigu-
ing to regain their lost privileges, so that Brun, after long
hesitation, decided to throw in the lot of the city with the
League rather than with Austria. In this way the League
now advanced from the hilly country to the plains, though
the terras of the treaty with Zurich did not bind it so
closely to the Confederates as in the other cases (the right
of making alliances apart from the League being reserved,
though the League was to rank before these), and hence
rendered it possible for Zurich now and again to incline
towards Austria in a fashion which did great hurt to its
allies. In 1352 the. League was enlarged by the admission
of Glarus and Zug. Glarus belonged to the monastery
of Sackingen on the Bliine (founded by the Irish monk
Fridolin), of which the Hapsburgs were "advocates,"
claiming therefore many rights over the valley, which
refused to admit them, and joyfully received the Con-
federates who came to its aid ; but it was placed on a
lower footing than the other members of the League, being
bound to obey their orders. Three weeks later the town
and district of Zug, attacked by the League and abandoned
by their Hapsburg masters, joined the Confederation,
forming a transition link between the civic and rural
members of the League. The imiiicdiato occu.'^ion of the
union of these two di-stricts was the war begun by tho
784
SWITZERLAND
[histoet.''
Austrian duke against Zurich, which was ended by the
Brandenburg peace of 1352, by which Glarus and Zug
were to be restored to the Hapsburgs, who also regained
their rights over Lucerne ; Zug was won for good by a
bold stroke of the men of Schwyz in 1364, but it was
not till the day of Niifels (1388) that Glarus recovered
its lost freedom. These temporary losses and the treaty
made by Brun of Zurich with Austria in 1356 were, how-
ever, far outweighed by the entrance into the League
in 1353 of the famous town of Bern, which, founded in
1191 by Berthold V. of Zaringen, and endowed with
great privileges, had become a free imperial city in 1218
on the extinction of the Zaringen dynasty. Founded for
the purpose of bridling the turbulent feudal nobles around,
many of whom had become citizens, Bern beat them
back at Durnbiilil (1298), and made a treaty with the
Forest districts as early as 1323. In 1339, at the bloody
fight of Laupen, she had broken the power of the nobles
for ever, and in 1352 had been forced by a treaty with
Austria to take part in the war against Zurich, but goon
after the conclusion of peace entered the League as the
ally of the three Forest districts, being thus only indirectly
joined to Lucerne and Zurich. The special importance
of the accession of Bern was that the League now began
to spread to the west, and was thus brought into con-
nexion for the first time with the French-speaking land
of Savoy. The League thus numbered eight members,
the fruits of Morgarten, and no further members were
admitted till 1481, after the Burgundian war. But, in
order to thoroughly understand the nature of the League,
it must be remembered that, while each of the five new
members was allied with the original nucleus, — the three
Forest districts, — these five were not directly allied to one
another : Lucerne was allied with Zurich and Zug ; Zurich
with Lucerne, Zug, and Glarus ; Glarus with Zurich ; Zug
with Lucerne and Zurich ; Bern with no one except the
three original members. The circumstances under which
each entered the League can alone explain the very intri-
cate relations at this time of its eight members,
"fempach. After a short interval of peace the quarrels " with
Austria broke out afresh ; all the members of the League,
save the three Forest districts and Glarus, joined the great,
union of the South German cities ; but their attention
was soon called to events nearer home. Lucerne fretted
much under the Austrian rule, received many Austrian
subjects among her citizens, and 'refused to pay custom
duties to the Austrian bailiff at Kothenburg, on the ground
that she had the right of free traffic. An attack on the
custom-house at Eothenburg, and the gift of the privileges
of burghership to the discontented inhabitants of the little
town of Sempach a short way off, so irritated Leopold
TIL (who then held all the possessions of his house out-
side Austria) that, finmindful of the defeat of his uncle at
Morgarten in 1315, he collected a great army, with the
intention of crushing his rebellious town. Lucerne. mean-
while had summoned the other members of the League to
her aid, and, thongh Leopold's "raint .of attacking Zurich
caused the troops of the League to march at first in that
direction, they discovered their mistake in time to turn
back and check his advance on Lucerne. From 1500
to 1600 men of Uri, Schwyz, Unterwalden, and Lucerne
opposed the 6000 which made up the Austrian army. The
decisive fight took place on July 9, 1386, near Sempach,
on a bit of sloping meadow-land, cut up by streams and
hedges, which forced the Austrian knights to dismount.
The great heat of the day, which rendered it impossible
to fight in armour, and the furious attacks of the Con-
federates, finally broke the Austrian line after more
than one repulse aiid turned the day (see Winkeleied).
Leopold, with a large number of his followers, was slain,
and the Hapsburg power within the borders of the Con-
federation finally broken. Glarus at once rose in- arms
against Austria, but it was not till the expiration of the
truce made after Sempach that Leopold's brother, Albert
of Austria, brought an army against Glarus, and was
signally defeated at Nafels (not far from Glarus) on April
9, 1388, by a handful of Glarus and Schwyz men, the
troops of the other Confederates arriving too late.
In 1389 a peace for seven years was made, the Confed-
erates being secured in all their conquests ; an attempt
made in 1393 by Austria by means of Schono, the
chief magistrate of Zurich and leader of the patrician,
party, to stir up a fresh attack .failed owing to a rising
of the burghers, who sympathized with the Confederates,
and on July 16, 1394, the peace was prolonged for twenty
years (and again in 1412 for fifty years), various stipula-
tions being made by which the hundred years' struggle of
the League to throw off all political dependence on th4
Hapsburgs was finally crowned with success, Glarus was
freed on payment of 200 pounds annually (in 1389-1395
it bought up all the rights of Sackingen) ; Zug too
was released from Austrian rule. Schwyz was given the
town of Einsiedeln (the "advocatia" of the great abbey)
following in 1397) ; Lucerne got the Entlibuch, Sempach,!
and Eothenburg, the last-named being mortgaged only ;
Bern and Solothurn were confirmed in their conquests.!
Above all, the Confederation as a whole was relieved from
the overlordship cf the Hapsburgs, to whom, however, all
their rights and dues as landed proprietors were expressly
reserved, — Bern, Zurich, and Solothurn guaranteeing the
maintenance of these rights and dues, with power in case
of need to call on the other Confederates to support them'
by arms. Thus the distinction always made by the Con--
federates between the Hapsburgs as rulers and as land-
owners was once more upheld ; and, though that powerful
family entertained hopes of recovering its former rights,
so that technically the treaties of 1389, 1394, and 1412
were but truces, it finally and for ever renounced all its
feudal rights and privileges within the Confederation by
the "Everlasting Compact" of 1474.
It is probable that Bern did not take any active sharei
in the Sempach war because she was bound by the treatyj
of peace made with the Austrians in 1368 ; and Solothurn,!
allied with Bern, was uoubtless a party to the treaty of'
1394 (though not yet in the League), because of its suf-
ferings in 1382 at the hands of the Kyburg line of the
Hapsburgs, whose possessions (Thun, Burgdorf, &c.) in
1384 fell into the hands of the two allies.
We may mention here the foray (known as the English
or Gugler war) made in 1374-75 by Enguerrand da
Coucy (husband of Isabella, daughter of Edward III. of
England) and his freebooters (many of them Englishmen
and Welshmen), called " Gugler" from their pointed steel
caps, with the object of obtaining possession of certain
towns in the Aargau (including Sempach), which ho
claimed as the dowry of his mother Catherine, daughter
of the Leopold who was defeated at Morgarten. He was
put to rout in the Entlibuch by the men of Bern, Frei-
burg, Schw3-z, and Unterwalden in December 1375. This
victory, which gave rise to the first great Swiss war song,
was commemorated with great rejoicings as lately as 1875.
III. The great victory at Sempach not merely vastly
increased the fame of the Everlasting League but also'
enabled it to extend both its influence and its territory.
The 15th century is the period when both the League and
its several members took the aggressive, and the expan-
sion of their power and lands cannot be better seen than
by comparing the state of things at the beginning and
at the end of this century. The pastoral highlands of
Appenzell (Abbatis Cella) and the town of St Gall had
J352-1428.]
SWITZERLAND
785
long been trying to throw off the rights exercised over
them by the great abbey of St Gall, founded in the 7th
century by the Irish monk of that name. The Appen-
zellers in particular had offered a stubborn resistance, and
the abbot's troops had been beaten back by them in 1403
on the heights of Vogelinseck, and again in 1405 in the
great fight on the pass of the Stoss * (which led up into
the highlands), in which the abbot was backed by the
<lnke of Austria. Schwyz had given them some help, and
in 1411 Appenzell was placed under the protection of the
League (save Bern), with which in the next year the city
of St Gall made a similar treaty to last ten years. So too
in 1416-17 several of the "tithings" of the Upper Wallia
or Valais {i.e., the upper stretch of the Rhone valley),
which in 1388 had beaten the bishop and the nobles in
a great fight at Visp, became closely associated with
Lucerne, Uri, and Unterwalden. It required aid in its
final struggle against the great house of Karon, the count-
bishop of Sitten (or Sion), and the house of Savoy, which
held Lower Wallis, — the Forest districts, on the other
hand, wishing to secure themselves against Raron and
Savoy in their attempt to permanently conquer the A''al
d'Ossola on the south side of the Simplon pass. Bern,
however, supported its burgher, the lord of Raron ; but,
by a peace made in 1420, the powers of the bishop and
the lord of Raron were greatly diminished ; the latter
house soon after sold all its lands and rights, and migrated
to the district of Toggenburg. Such were the first links
which bound these lands with the League ; but they did
not become full members for a long time — Appenzell in
1513, St Gall in 1803, Wallis in 1815.
Space will not allow us to enumerate all the small con-
quests made in the first half of the 15th century by every
member of the League ; suffice it to say that each increased
and rounded off its territory, but did not give the conquered
lands any political rights, governing them as "subject
lands," often very harshly. The same phenomenon of
lands which had won their own freedom playing the part
of tyrant over other lands which joined them more or less
by their voluntary action is seen on a larger scale in the
case of the conquest of the Aargau, and in the first
attempts to secure a footing south of the Alps.
In 1412 the treaty of 1394 between the League and the
Hapsburgs had been renewed for fifty years ; but when in
1415 Duke Frederick of Austria helped Pope John XXII.
to escape from Constance, where the great council was
then sitting, and the emperor Sigismund placed the duke
under the ban of the empire, summoning all members
of the empire to arm against him, the League hesitated,
because of their treaty of 1412, till the emperor declared
that all the rights and lands of Austria in the League were
forfeited, and that their compact did not release them from
their obligations to the empire. In the name, therefore,
of the emperor, and by his special command, the different
members of the League overran the extensive Hapsburg
possessions in the Aargau. The chief share fell to Bern,
out certain districts (known as the Freie Aemier) were
joined together and governed as bailiwicks held in common
by all the members of the League (save Uri, busied in the
south, and Bern, who had already secured the lion's share
of the spoil for herself). This ia the first case in which
the League as a whole took up the position of rulers over
districts which, though guaranteed in the enjoyment of
their old rights, were nevertheless politically unfrce. As
an encouragement and a reward, Sigismund had granted
ITie tales of the heroic defence of Uli Rottnch of Appenzell, and
3< the appearance of a company of Appenzell women disguiscrl aa
warriors which turned the battle, arc told in connexion with this fight,
bat do not appear till the 17th and 18th centarics, being thua quite
(vr.hi-^torical, so far a.s our genuine evidence j^oes.
22—28
in advance to the League the right of criminal jurisdiction
(" haute justice " or " lilutbann "), which points to the fact
that they were soon to become independent of the empire,
as they were of Austria. But all through the 15th century
it must be carefully borne in mind that the members of
the League were constantly recognized as and acknowledged
themselves to be members of the empire.
As the natural policy of Bern was to seeK to enlarge
] its borders at the expense of Austria, and later of Savoy,
so we find that Uri, shut off bj' physical causes from
extension in other directions, as steadily turned its eyes
towards the south. In 1410 the valley of Urseren was
finally joined to Uri ; though communications were diflB-
cult, and carried on only by means of the " stiebende
I Briicke," a wooden bridge suspended by chains over the
Reuss, along the side of a great rocky buttress (pierced in
1707 by the tunnel known as the Urnerloch), yet this
enlargement of the territory of Uri gave it complete com-
mand over the St Gotthard pass, long commercially import-
ant, and now to serve for purposes of war and conquest.'
Already in 1403 Uri and Obwald had taken advantage of
a quarrel with the duke of Jlilan as to custom dues at the
market of Varese to occupy the long narrow valley on the'
south of the pass called the Val Leventina ; in 1410 the'
men of the same two lands, exasperated by the insults of
the local lords, called on the other members of the League,'
and all jointly (except Bern) occupied the Val d'Ossola,'
on the south side of the Simplon pass. But in 1414 they
lost this to Savoy, and, with the object of getting it back,
obtained in 1416-17 the alliance of the men of Upper
Wallis, then fighting for freedom, and thus regained the'
valley, despite the exertions uf the great Milanese general |
Carmagnola. In 1419 Uri and Obwald bought from its
lord the town and district of Bellinzona. This rapid
advance, however, did not approve itself to the duke of
Milan, and Carmagnola reoccupied both valleys ; the Con-'
federates were not at one with regard to these southern
conquests; a small body pressed on in front of the rest,
but was cut to pieces at Arbedo near Bellinzona in 1422.'
A bold attempt in 1425 by a Schwyzer, Peter Rissi by
name, to recover the Val d'Ossola caused the Confederates
to send a force to rescue these adventurers ; but the duke
of Milan intrigued with the divided Confederates, and
finally in 1426, by a payment of a large sum of money
and the grant of certain commercial privileges, the Val
Leventina, the Val d'Ossola, and Bellinzona were restored
to him. Thus the first attempt of ITri to acquire a footing
south of the Alps had failed, but the wish to recover its
lost conquests still continued, and a later attempt was more
successful, leading to the inclusion in the Confederation of
what has been called " Italian Switzerland."
The original contrasts between the social condition of The ant
the different members of the League became more marked ""^ ""
when the period of conquest began, and led to quarrels
and ill-feeling in the matter of the Aargau and the Italiaa
conquests which a few years later ripened into a civil war
brought about by the dispute as to the succession to tho
lands of Frederick, count of Toggenburg, tho last male
representative of his house. Count Frederick's prede-
cessors had greatly extended their domains, so that thoy
took in not only the Toggenburg or upper valley of thq
Thur, but Uznach, Sargans, the Rhino valley bctweeiy
Feldkirch and Sargans, the Priittigau, and tho Davos
valley. He himself, tho last great feudal lord on tho left
bank of the Rhine, had managed to secure his vast posses
sions by making treaties witK several members of thi
League, particularly Zurich (1402) and Schwyz (1417),—
from 1428 inclining more and more to Schwyz (then
ruled by Ital Reding), being disgusted with tho arrogant
behaviour of Stiissi, the burgomostcr of Zurich. Hie
786
S W I T Z E K L A N D
[HISTOET.
death (April 30, 1436) was the signal for the breaking
out of strife. The Prattigau and Davos valley formed the
League of the Ten "Jurisdictions in Rhoetia (see below),
■while Frederick's widow sided with Zurich against Schwyz
for different portions of the great inheritance which had
been promised them. After being twice defeated, Zurich
was forced in 1440 to buy peace by certain cessions (the
Upper March) to Schwyz, the general feeling of the Con-
federates being opposed to Zurich, several of them going
BO far as to send men and arms to Schwyz. Zurich, how-
ever, was bitterly disappointed at these defeats, and had
recourse to that policy which she had adopted in 1356
and 1393 — an alliance with Austria (concluded in 1442),
which now held the imperial throne in the person of
Frederick III. Though technically within her rights ac-
cording to the terms on which she had joined the League
in 1351, this act of Zurich* caused the greatest irritation
in the Confederation, and civil war at once broke out,
especially when the Hapsburg emperor had been solemnly
received and acknowledged in Zurich. In 1443 the
Zurich troops were completely defeated at St Jakob on
the Sihl, close under the walls of the city, Stiissi himself
being slain. Next year the city itself was long besieged.
Frederick, unable to get help elsewhere, procured from
Charles VII. of France the despatch of a body of
Armagnac free lances (the lilcorcheurs), who came, 30,000
strong, under the dauphin Louis, plundering and harrying
the land, till, at the very gates of the free imperial city
of Basel (which had made a twenty years' alliance with
Bern), by the leper house of St Jakob on the Birs (August
26, *1444), the desperate resistance of a small body of
Confederates (1200 to 1500) till cut to pieces, checked the
advance of the freebooters, who sustained such tremendous
losses that, though the victors, they hastily made peace,
and returned whence they had come. Several small en-
gagements ensued, Zarich long declining to make peace
because the Confederates required, as the result of a solema
erbitration, the abandonment of the Austrian alliance. At
length it was concluded in 1450, the Confederates restoring
almost all the lands they had won from Zurich. Thus
ended the third attempt of Austria to conquer the Leagu-e
by means of Zurich, which used its position as an imperial
free city greatly to the harm of the League, and was the
cause of the first civil war which distracted the League.
These fresh proofs of the valour of the Confederates,
and of the growing importance of the League, did not fail
to produce important results. In 1452 the "Confederates
of the Old League of Upper Germany " (as they styled
themselves) made their first treaty of alliance with France,
a connexion which was destined to exercise so much influ-
ence on their history. Round the League there began to
gather a new class of allies (known as "Zugewandte
Orte," or associated districts), more closely joined to it,
or to certain members of it, than by a mere treaty of
friendship, yet not being admitted to the rank of a full
member of the League. Of these associates three, the
abbot (1451) and town of St Gall (1454), and the town
of Bienne (Biel), through its alliance (1352) with Bern,
were given seats and votes in the diet, being called " socii";
while others, known as " confoederati," were not so closely
bound to the League, such as Wallis (1416-17), Schaff-
hausen (1454), Miihlhausen (1466), RothweU (1463).i Ap-
penzell, too, in 1452, rose from the rank of a "protected
district" into the class of associates, outside which were
certain places " protected " by several members of the
League, such as Gersau (1359), the abbeys of Engelberg
[(. 1421) and Einsiedeln (1397-1434), and the town of
' To the class of " confoederati " beloDged in later times Neuchitel
;i495-98), the Leagues of Rhsetia (1497-98). Oeneva U519-36), and
the bishop o{ Basel iUJi)).
Rapperschwyl (1458). The relation of the "associates"
to the League may be compared with the ancient practice
of " commendation " : they were bound to obey orders in
the matter of declaring war, making alliances, <ic.
In 1439 Sigismund succeeded his lather Frederick in
the Hapsburg lands in Alsace, the Thurgau, and Tyrol,
and, being much irritated by the constant encroachments
of the Confederates, in particular by the loss of Rapper-
schwyl (1458), declared war against them, but fared very
badly. In 1460 the Confederates overran the Thurgau,
and occupied Sargans. Winterthur was only saved by an
heroic defence. Hence in 1461 Sigismund had to give
up his claims on those lands and renew the peace for
fifteen years, while in 1467 he sold Winterthur to Zurich.
Thus the whole line of the Rhine was lost to the Haps-
burgs, who retained (till 1802) in the territories of the
Confederates the Frickthal only. The Thurgovian baili-
wicks were governed in common as "subject" lands by
all the Confederates except Bern. The touchiness of the
now rapidly advancing League was shown by the eager-
ness with which in 1468 its members took up arms
against certain small feudal nobles who were carrying on a
harassing guerilla warfare with their allies Schaffhausetf
and Jliihlhausen. They laid siege to Waldshut, and to
buy them off Sigismund in August 1468 engaged to pay
10,000 gulden as damages by June 24, 1460; in default
of payment the Confederates were to keep for ever the
Black Forest, Waldshut, and certain other Black Forest
towns on the Rhine. A short time before (1467) the
League had made treaties of friendship with Philip the
Good, duke of Burgundy, and with the duke of Milaa
All was now prepared for the intricate series of intrigue.^
which led up to the Burgundian War, — a great epoch in the
history of the League, as i t created a conjmon national feel-
ing, enormously raised its military reputation, and brought
about the close connexion with certain parts of Savoy which
finally (1803-15) were admitted into the League.
Sigismund did not know where to obtain the sum he
had promised to pay. In this strait he turned to Charles
the Bold (properly the Rash), duke of Burgundy, who
was then beginning his wonderful career, and aiming at
restoring the kingdom of Burgundy. For this purpose
Charles wished to marry his daughter and heiress to
Maximilian, son of the emperor, and first cousin of Sigis-
mund, in order that the emperor might be induced to
give him the Burgundian crown. Hence he was ready to
meet Sigismund's advances. On May 9, 1469, Charles
promised to give Sigismund 60,000 florins, receiving as
security for repayment Alsace, the Breisgau, the Sundgan,
the Black Forest, and the four Forest towns on the Rhine
(Rheinfelden, Sackingen, Lauffenburg, and Waldshut) ; in
addition, Charles took Sigismund under his protection,
specially against the Swiss, and agreed to give him aid in
a war if he was attacked by them. It was not unnatural
for Sigismund to think cf attacking the League, but
Charles's engagement to him is quite inconsistent with
the friendly agreement made between Burgundy and the
League as late as 1467. The emperor then on his side
annulled Sigismund's treaty of 1468 with the Swiss, and
placed them under the ban of the empire. Charles com-
mitted the mortgaged lands to Peter von Hagenbach, who
proceeded to try to establish his master's power there by
such harsh and severe measures as to cause al' the people
to murmur, then rise against him.
The Swiss in these circumstances began to look towards
Louis XL of France, who had confirmed the treaty of
friendship made with them by his father in 1452. Sigis-
mund had applied to him early in 1469 to help him in
his many troubles, and to give him aid against the Swiss^
but Louis had point-blank refused- Anxious to seeu
1436-1476.]
S ^ V ITZERLAInL>
787
their neutrality in case o{ his war with Charles, he made
a treaty with them on August 13, 1470, to this effect. All
the evidence goes to show that Sigismund was not a tool
in the hands of Louis, and that Louis, at least at that
time, had no definite intention of involving Charles and
the Swiss in a war, but wished only to secure his own
flank.
Sigismund iu the next few years tried hard to get from
Charles the promised aid agaiijst the Swiss (the money
was paid punctually enough by Charles on his behalf),
who put him oft with various excuses. .Charles on his
side, in 1471-72, tried to' make an alliance with ' the
Swiss, his efforts being supported by a party in Bern
headed by Adrian von Bubenberg. Probably .Charles
wished to use both Sigismund and the Swiss to further
his own interests, but his shifty policy had the effect of
alienating both from him. Sigismund, disgusted with
'Charles, now inclined towards Louis, whose ally he for-
mally became in the summer of- 1473, — a change which
was the real cause of the emperor's flight from Treves
in November 1473,' when he had come there expressly
to crown Charles. . The Confederates on their side were-
greatly moved by the oppression of their friends and allies
in Alsace -by Hagenbach, and tried m vam (January 1474)
to obtain some redress from his master. Charles's too
astute policy had thus lost him both Sigismund and the
Swiss. They now looked upon Louis, who, • thoroughly
aware of Charles's ambition, and fearing that his disap-
pointment at Treves would soon lead to open war, ai^ned
at a master stroke — no less than the reconciliation of
Sigismund and the Swiss. This on the face of it seemed
impracticable, but commou need and Louis's dexterous
management brought it to pass, so that on March 30,
1474, the Everlasting Compact was signed at Constance,
by which Sigismund finally renounced all Austrian claims
on the lands of the Confederates, and guaranteed them in
quiet enjoyment of them ; they, on the other hand, agreed
to support him if Charles did not give up the mortgaged
lands when the. money was paid down. The next day
the Swiss joined the league of the Alsatian and E,hine
cities, as also did Sigismund. Charles was called' on to
receive the money contributed by the Alsatian cities, and
to restore his lands to Sigismund. He, however, took no
steps. Within a week the oppressive bailiff Hagenbach
was captured, and a month later (May 9, 1474) he
was put to death, Bern alone of the Confederates being
represented. On October 9 the emperor, acting of
course at the instance of Sigismund, ordered them to
declare war against Charles, which took pkce on October
25, Bern acting in the 'name of the Confederates, and
alleging that they made war solely by order of the emperor
and not as principals. • Next day Louis formally ratified
his alliance with the Confederates, promising money and
pensions, the latter to be increased if he did not send
men. Throughout these- negotiations and later, Bern
^ects Swiss policy, though all the Confederates are not
quite agreed. . She was specially exposed to attack from
Charles and Charles's ally (since 1468) Savoy, and her
liest chance of extending ier territory, lay towards the
west and south. A forward policy was thus distinctly
the best for Bern, and this was the line supported by the
French party under Nicholas von Diesbach, 'Von Bubenberg
opposing it, though not with any idea of handing over
Bern to Charles. The Forest districts, however, were very
suspicious of this movement to the west, by which Bern
alone could profit, though the League as a whole might
lose ; then, too, Uri had in 1440 finally won the 'Val Lev-
entina, and she and her neighbours favoured a southerly
policy — a policy whicn was crowned with success after
the galknt victory won at Giornico in 1478 by a handful
of moo fwm Zurich, Lucerne, 'Dri, and'Schwyz otct' 12,000
Milanese troops, though the maia body of the Confederates
was already on its way home. Thus Uri gained for the
first time a permanent footing south of the Alps, not long
before Bern had w:on its first conquests from Savoy.
The war in the west was begun by Bern and her allies
(Fceiburg, Solothurn, <tc.) by marauding'expeditions across
the Jura, in which Hericourt (November 1474) and Bla:
mont /August 1475) were taken, both towns being held
of Charles by the- "sires" de Neuchatel, a cadet line of
the counts of Montbdliard. It-is said that, in the formei
expedition the white cross was borne (for the first time)
as the ensign of the Confederates, but not in the other.
Jleanwhile Yolande, the duchess of Savoy, had, through
fear of her brother Louis XL and hatred of Bern, finally
joined Charles and MUan (January 1475), the immediate
result of which was the capture, by the Bernese and friends
(on the way back from a foray on Pontarlier in the Free
County of Burgundy or Franche Comtd) of several places
in Vaud, notably Granson and lilchallens, both held of Savoy
by a' member of the house of ChaUon, princes of Orange
(April 1475), as well as Orbe and Jougne, held by the same,
l)nt under Burgundy. In the summer Bern seized on the
Savoyard district of Aigle. ' Soon after (October-November
1475) the'same energetic policy won for her the Savoyard
towns of Morat, Avenchesj Estavayer, and Yverdun; while
(September) the Upper 'WaUis,. which had conquered all
Lower or Savoyard Wallis, entered into alliance with Bern
for the purpose of opposing Savoy by preventing the arrival
of Milanese troops. Alarmed at their success, the emperor
and Louis deserted (June-September) the Confederates,
who thus, by the influence of Louis and Bernese ambition,
saw themselves led on and then abandoned to the wrath
of. Charles, and very likely to lose their new conquests.
They had entered on the war as " helpers *' of the emperors,
andnow became principals in the war against Charles, who
raised the siege of Neuss, made an alliance with Edward
IV. of England, received the surrender of Lorraine, and
hastened across the Jura (February 1476) to the aid of
his ally Yolande. On February 21 Charles laid siege to
Granson, and after a week's siege the garrison of Bernese
and Freiburgers had to surrender, and, by way of retalia-
tion for the massacre of the garrison of Estavayer in 1475,
of the 412 men two only were .spared in order to act as
executioners of their comrades. This hideous news met a
large body of the Confederates gathered together in great
haste to relieve the garrison, and going to their rendezvous
at Neuchatel, where both the count and town had become
allies of Bern in 1406. An advance body .of Bernese,
Freiburgers, and Seh^vyzers, in order to avoid the castlo
of Vauxmarcus (seized by Charles), by the Lake of
Neuchatel, on the direct road from Neuchiltel to Gran-
son, climbed over a wooded spur to the north, and
attacked (March 2) the Burgundian outposts. Charles
drew back his force in order to bring down the Swiss
to the more level ground where his cavalry could act,
but his rear misinterpreted the order, and when the main
Swiss force appeared over the spur the Burgundian army
was seized with a panic and fled in disorder. The Swiss
had gained a glorious victory, and regained their conquest
of Granson, besides capturing very rich spoil in Charles's
camp, parts of which are preserved to the present day in
various Swiss armouries. Such was the famous battle of
Granson. Charles at once retired to Lausanne, and set
about reorganizing his army. He resolved to advance on
Bern by way of Morat (or Murten), which was occupied
by a Bernese garrison under Von Bubenberg, and laid
siege to it on Juno 9. The Confederates had now put
away all jealousy of Bern, and collected a large army.
The decisive battle took place on the afternoon of June
7«8
SWITZERLAND
[history.
22, after the arrival of the Zurich contingent under Hans
Waldmann. English archers were in Charles's army,
while with the Swiss was Ren6, the dispossessed duke of
Lorraine. After facing each other many hours in the
driving rain, a body of Swiss, by outflanking Charles's
van, stormed his palisaded camp, and the Burgi^ndians
were soon hopelessly beaten, the losses on both sides (a
contrast to Granson) being exceedingly heavy. Vaud
was reoccupied by the Swiss, Savoy having overrun it
on Charles's advance ; but Louis now stepped in and
procured the restoration of Vaud to Savoy, save Granson,
Morat, Orbe, and lichallens, which were to be held by
the Bernese jointly with the Freiburgers, Aigle by Bern
alone, — Savoy at the same time renouncing all its claims
over Freiburg. Thus French-speaking districts first be-
came permanently connected with the 'Confederation,
hitherto purely German, and the war had been one for
the maintenance of recent conquests, rather than a purely
defensive one against an encroaching neighbour desirous
of crushing Swiss freedom. Charles tried in vain to raise
a third army ; Ren^ recovered Lorraine, and on January 5,
1477, under the walls of Nancy, Charles's wide-reaching
plans were ended by his defeat and death, many Swiss j
being with Een6's troops. The wish of the Bernese to
overrun Tranche Comt6 was opposed by the older members
of the Confederation, and finally, in 1479, Louis, by very
large payments, secured the abandonment of all claims on
that province, which was annexed to the French crown,
fnternal These glorious victories really laid the foundation of
ta^the'^* Swiss nationality ; but soon after them the long-standing
league, jealousy between the civic and rural elements in the Con-
federation nearly broke it up. This had always hindered
common action save in case of certain pressing questions.
In 1370, by the "Parsons' ordinance" (Pfaffenbrief),
agreed on by all the Confederates except Bern and
Glarus, all residents, whether clerics or laymen, in the
Confederation who were bound by oath to the duke of
Austria were to swear faith to the Confederation, and
this oath was to rank before any other ; no appeal was to
lie to any court spiritual or lay (except in matrimonial
and purely spiritual questions) outside the limits of the
Confederation, and many regulations were laid down as to
the suppression of private wars and keeping of the peace
on thg" high roads. Further, in 1393, the " Sempach
ordinance " was accepted by all the Confederates and
Solothurn ; this was an attempt to enforce police re-
gulatioBS and to lay down " articles of war " for the
organization and discipline of the army of the Confede-
rates, minute regulations being made against plundering,
— women, monasteries, and churches being in particular
protected and secured. But save these two documents^
common action was limited to the meeting of two envoys
from each member of the Confederation and one from
each of the " socii" in the diet, the powers of which were
greatly limited by the instructions brought by each envoy,
thus entailing frequent reference to his Government, and
included foreign relations, war and peace, and common
arrangements as to police, pestilence, customs duties, coin^
age, itc. The decisions of the majority did not bind the
minority save in the case of the affairs of the bailiwicks
ruled in common. Thus everything depended on common
agreement and goodwill. ' But disputes as to the division
of the lands conquered in the Burgundian war, and the
proposal to admit iijto the League the towns of Freiburg
and Solothurn, which had rendered such good help in the
■war, caused the two parties to form separate unions, for
by the latter proposal the number of towns would have
been made the same, as that of the " Lander," which these
did not at all approve. Suspended a moment by the
campaign in the Val Leventina, these quarrels broke out
after the victory of Giornico ; aud at the diet of Stanz
(December 1481), when it seemed probable that the fail-
ure of all attempts to come to an understanding would
result in the disruption of the League, the mediation of
Nicholas von der Fliie (or Bruder Klaus), a holj' hermit of
Sachseln in Obwald, though he did not apjjear at the diet
in person, succeeded in bringing both sides to reason, aud
the third great ordinance of the League — the " compact
of Stanz " — was agreed on. By this the promise of mutual
aid and assistance was renewed, especially when one mem-
ber attacked another, and stress was laid on the duty of i
the several Governments to maintain the peace, and not '
to help the subjects of any other member in case of a
rising. The treasure and movables captured in the war
were to be equally divided amongst the combatants, the
territories and towns amongst the members of the Leagua
As a practical proof of the reconciliation, on the same day
the towns of Freiburg and Solothurn were received as full
members of the Confederation, united with all the other
members, though on less favourable terms than usual, for
they were forbidden to make alliances, save with the con-
sent of all or of the greater part of the other members.
Both towns had long been allied with Bern, whose
influence was greatly increased by their admission. Frei-
burg, founded in 1178 by Berthold IV. of Zaringen,
had on the extinction of that great dynasty (1218) b&;
Come a free imperial city, but had bowed successively to'
Kyburg (1249), Austria, the sons of Eudolph (1277), and
Savoy (1452); when Savoy gave up its claims in 1477
Freiburg once more became a free imperial city. Sha
had become allied with Bern as early as 1243. The
ancient Roman city of Solothurn (or Soleure) had been
associated with Bern from 1351, but had in vain sought
admission into the League in 1411. Both the new mem-
bers had done much for Bern in the Burgundian war,
and it was for their good service that she now procured
them this splendid reward, in hopes perhaps of aid oa
other important and critical occasions.
The compact of Stanz strengthened the bonds which
joined the members of the Confederation ; and the same
centralizing tendency is well seen in the attempt (1483-
89) of Hans Waldmann, the burgomaster of Zurich, to
.assert the rule -of his city over the neighbouring country
districts, to place all power in the hands of the guilds
(whereas by Brun's constitution the patricians had an
equal share), to suppress all minor jurisdictions, and to
raise a uniform tax. But this idea of concentrating all
powers in the hands of the Government aroused great
resistance, and led to his overthrow and execution. Peter
Kistler succeeded (>470) better at Bern in a reform on
the same lines, but not of such a sweeping character.
The early history of each member of the Confederation,
and of the Confederation itself, shows that they always
professed to belong to the empire, trying to become im-
mediately dependent on the emperor in order to prevent
the oppression of middle lords, and to enjoy practical
liberty. The empire itself had now become very much
of a shadow ; cities and princes were gradually asserting
their own independence, sometimes breaking away from
it altogether. Now, by the time of the Burgundian war
the Confederation stood in a position analogous to that
of a powerful free imperial city. As long as the emperor's
nominal rights were not enforced, all went well; but, when
> ilaximilian, in his attempt to reorganize the empire, erected
in 1495 at Worms an imperial chamber which had juris-
diction in all disputes between members of the empjre,
the Confederates were very unwilling to obey it, partly
because they could maintain peace at home by their own
authority, and partly becatisa it interfered with their
practical independence. Again, their refusal to join the
1476-1521J
S W I T Z E 11 L A N D
789
"Swabian League," formed in 1488 by the lorda and
cities of South Germany to keep the public peace, gave
further bffence, as. well as their fresh alliances with
France. Hence a struggle was inevitable, and the occa-
sion by reason of which it broke out was the seizure by
the Tyrolese authorities in 1499 of the Miinsterthal, which
belonged to the " Gotteshausbund," one of the three
leagues which had. gradually arisen in Khaetia. These
were the "Gotteshausbund" in 1367 (taking in all the
dependents of the cathedral church at Chur living in the
Oberhalbstein and Engadine), the " Oberer or Grauer
Bund " in 1395 and 1424 (taking in the abbey of Dissentis
and many counts and lords in the -Vorder Rhein valley,
though its name is not derived, as often stated, from the
" grey coats " of the first members, but from " grawen " or
"grafen," as so many counts formed part of it), and the
"League of the Ten Jurisdictions" (Zehngerichtenbund),
which arose in the Prattigau and Davos valley (1436)
on the death of Count Frederick of Toggenburg, but
which, owing to certain Austrian claims in it, was not
quite so free as its neighbours. The first and third of
these became. allied in 1450, but the formal union of the
three dates only from 1524, a^s documentary proof is want-
ing of the alleged meeting at Vazerol in 1471, though
practically before 1524 they had very much in cornmon.
in 1497 the Oberer Bund, in 1498 the Gotteshausbund,
made a treaty of alliance with the Everlasting League
or Swiss Confederation, the Ten Jurisdictions being un-
able to do more than show sympathy, owing to Austrian
influence, which was not bought up till 1649-52. Hence
this attack on the Miinsterthal was an attack on an
"associate" member of the Swiss Confederation, Maxi-
milian being supported by the Swabian League ; but its
real historical importance is the influence it had on the
relations' of the Swiss to the -empire. The struggle lasted
several months, the chief fight being that "an der Calven "
or "auf der Malserheide " (May 22, 1499), in which
Benedict Fontana, a leader of the Gotteshausbund men,
performed many heroic deeds before his death. But,
both sides being exhausted, peace was made at Basel
on Septemtier 22, 1499. .By this the matters in dispute
were referred to arbitration, and the emperor annulled
all the decisions of the imperial chamber against the Con-
federation ; but nothing was laid down as to its future
relati.ons with the empire. No further real attempt, how-
ever, was made to enforce the rights ot the emperor, and
the Confederation became a state allied with the empire,
enjoying practical independence, though not formally freed
till 1648, Thus, 208 years after the origin of the Con-
federation, it had got rid of all Austrian claims (1394 and
1474), as well as all practical subjection to the emperor.
But its further advance towards the position of an inde-
pendent state was long checked by religious divisions
within, and by the enormous influence of the French king
on its foreign relations.
With the object of strengthening the northern border
of the Confederation, two more full members were admitted
in 1501 — Basel and Schaffhausen — on the same terms as
Freiburg and Solothurn. The city of Basel had originally
been ruled by its bishop, but in the 14th century it
became a free imperial city j^before 1501 it had made no
permanent alliance with the Confederation, though in con-
tinual relations with it. Schaffhausen had grown up round
the Benedictine monastery of All Saints, and became in
the 13th century a free imperial city, but was pledged
to Austria from 1330 to 1415, in which last year the
emperor Sigismund declared all Duke Frederick's rights
forfeited in consequence of his abetting the flight of Pope
John XXII. It had become an "associate" of the Con-
I'eUeration in 1454.
A few years lutei-, in 1513, Appenzell, which in 1411
had become a "protected" district, and in 1452 an
"associate" member of the Confederation, was admitted
as the thirteenth full member ; and this remained the
number till the fall of the old Confederation in 1793.
Round the three original members had gathered first five
others, united with the three, but not necessarily with
each other ; and then gradually there grew up an outer
circle, consisting of five more, attied with all the eight old
members, but tied down by certain stringent conditions.
Constance, which seemed called by nature to enter the
League, kept aloof, owing to a quarrel as to the criminal
jurisdiction in the Thurgau, which had beeu pledged to it
before the district was conquered by the Confederates.
Neuchatel in 1495-98 became permanently allied with
several members of the Confederation.
In the first years of the i6th century the influence of
the Confederates south of the Alps was largely extended.'.
The system of giving pensions, in order to secure the right ^
of enlisting men within the Confederation, and of capitula-
tions, by which the different members supplied troops, was
originated by Louis XI. in 1474, and later followed by-
many other princes. Though a tribute to Swiss valour
and courage, this practice had very evil results, of which
the first fruits were seen in the Jlilanese (1500-1516).
Both Charles VIII. (1484) and Louis XII. (1499 for ten
years) renewed Louis XL's treaty. The French attempts
to gain Milan were largely carried on by the help of Swiss
mercenaries, some of whom were on the opposite side; and,
as brotherly feeling was still too strong to make it possible
for them to fight against one another, Ludovico Sforza's
Swiss troops shamefully betrayed him to the French at
Novara (1500). In 1500,- too, the three ForH<it districts
occupied Bellinzona at the request of its inhabitants, and
in 1503 Louis XII. was forced to cede it to them. He
however, often held back tlie pay of his Swiss troops, anc^
treated them as mere hirelings, so that when the ten years'
treaty came to an end JIatthew Schinner, bishoj) of Sitten
(or Sion), induced them to join (1510) the pope, Julius II.,
then engaged in forming the Holy League to expel the
French from Italy. But when, after the battle of Ravenna,
Louis XII. became all-powerful in Lombardy, 20,000 Swiss
poured down into the Milanese and occupied it, Schmid,
the burgomaster of Zurich, naming Maximilian (Ludovico's
son) duke of Milan, in return for wliich he ceded to :he
Confederates Locarno, Yal Maggia, Mendrisio, and Lugano
(1512), while the Rluetian leagues received Cliiavenna,
Bormio, and the Valtelline. (The former districts, with
Bellinzona and the Val Leventina, were in 1803 made into
the canton of Ticino, the latter were held by Bhxtia till
1797.) In 1513 the Swiss completely defeated the French
at Novara, and in 1514 Pace was sent by Henry YIII. of
England to give pension-s and get soldiers. Francis 1. at
once on his accession (1515) began to prepare to win back
the Milanese, and, successfully evading the Swiss awaiting
his descent from the Alps, beat them in a i)itched battle at
Marignano nea^ Milan (September 13, 1515), which broke
the Swiss powcir in North Italy, so that in 1516 a peace
was made with France,— Wallis, theRha;lian leagues, and
St Gall being included on the side of the Confederates.
Provisions were made for the neutrality of either party in
case the other became involved in war, and large pensions
were promised. This treaty was extended by another in
1521 (to which Zurich, then under Zwingli's influence,
would not agree, holding- aloof from the French alliance
till 1614), by which the French king might, with the
consent of the Confederation, enlist any number of men
between 6000 and 16,000,. paying them fit wages, and thn
pensions were raised to 3000 francs annually to cacli
member of the Confederation. Tbe.se two treaties wen
790
SWITZERLAND
the starting point and foundation of later French inter-'
ference with Swiss affairs, which became more and more
oppressive, and was not finally thrown off till 1814.
IV. In 1499 the Swiss had practically renounced their
allegiance to the emperor, the temporal chief of the
world according to medieval theory; and in the 16th
century a great number of them did the same by the
world's spiritual chief, the pope. The scene of the revolt
was Zurich, and the leader Ulrich Zwingli. But we
arnot understand Zwingli's career unless we remember
;hat he was almost more a political reformer than a
religious one. In his former character his policy was
threefold. He bitterly opposed the French alliance and
the pension and mercenary system, for he had seen its
evils with his own eyes when serving as chaplain with the
troops in" the Milanesa in 1512 and 1515. Hence in 1521
his influence kept Zurich back from joining in the treaty
with Francis I. Then, too, at the time of the Peasant
Hevolt (1525), he did what he could to lighten the harsh
rule of the city over tbe neighbouring rural districts, and
succeeded in getting serfage abolished. Again he had it
greatly at heart to secure for Zurich and Bern the chief
power in the Confederation, because of their importance
and size ; he wished to give them extra votes in the diet,
and would have given them two-thirds of the "common
'bailiwicks" when these were divided. In his character
as a religious reformer we must remember that he was a
humanist, and deeply read in classical literature, which
accounts for his turning the canonries of the Grossmun-
8ter into professorships, reviving the old school of the
Carolinum, and relying on the arm of the state to carry
out religious changes. His theology sprang from a single
ruling principle— the absolute and unlimited sovereignty
of God. Hence his profound respect for the letter of the
Bible led him to " legalism " and extreme Sabbatarianism.
Hence his view of the incarnation bordered on Unitarianism,
.and sacraments were mere signs of that which is already
given ; hence too sprang his denial of man's free will and
his belief in absolute election and reprobation. Nay, God,
being the absolute Author of all things, is the Author
of evil, though He is not immoral, for He is above law,
and what is morally wrong for man is not so for God!
Zwingh began to preach the new views as early as 1516,
long before and quite independently of Luther; but it
was only when at the end of 1518 he was called to Zurich
as parish priest that he began to make any noise, and in
fact it was even later (1522), when his admirers allowed
themselves to eat fish in Lent, that disturbances arose,
and the diet forbade aU preaching which would disturb
the public peace. But, after succeeding at two public
disputations, his views rapidly gained ground at Zurich,
which long, however, stood quite alone, the other Con-
.federates issuing an appeal to await the decision of the
asked-for general council, and proposing to carry out by
the arm of the state certain small reforms, while clinging
to the old doctrines. Zwingli had to put down^the
extreme wing of the Reformers-— the Anabaptists— by
force. Quarrels too arose as to allowing the new views
in the " common bailiwicks." The disputation at Baden
(1526) was in favour of the maintainers of the old faith ;
but that at Bern (1528) resulted in securing for the new
views the support of that great town, and so matters
began to take another aspect. In 1528 Bern joined the
union formed in 1527 in favour of religious freedom by
Zurich and Constance (Christlickes Burgrecht), and her
example was followed by Schaffhausen, St Gall, B^el, and
Muhlhausen. This attempt to virtuaOy break up the
League was met in February 1529 by the offensive and
defensive alliance made with King Ferdinand of Hungary
(brother of the emperor) by the three Forest districts.
[uiSTOEV.
with Lucerne and Zug, followed (April 1529) by the
"Christliche Vereinigung," or union between these five
members of the League. Zurich was greatly moved by
this, and, as Zwingli held that for the honour of God war
was as necessary as iconoclasm, war seemed imminent ; but
Bern held back ; and the first peace of Kappcl was con-
cluded (June 1629), by which the Hungarian alliance waj
annulled and the principle of "religious parity" (or freedom)
was admitted in the case of each member of the League
and in the " common bailiwicks." This was at once a
victory and a check for Zwingli. He tried to make an>
alliance with the Protestants in Germany, but failed at'
the meeting at Marburg (October 1529) to come to an '
agreement with Luther on the subject of the eucharist>
and the division betwen the Swiss and the German
Reformations was SLereotyped. Zwingli now develeped
his views as to the greater weight which Zurich and Bern
ought to have in the League. Quarrels too went en in the
"common bailiwicks," for the members of the League who
clung to the old faith had a majority of votes in matters
relating to these districts. Zurich tried to cut off supplies
of food from reaching the Catholic members (contrary to
the wishes of Zwingli), and, on the death of the abbot of
St Gall, disregarding the rights of Lucerne, Schwvz, and
Glarus, who shared with her the office of protectors of
the abbey, suppressed the monastery, giving the rule of
the land and the people to her own officers. Bern in vain
tried to moderate this aggressive policy, and the Catholic
members of the League indignantly advanced towards
Zurich. Near Kappel, on October 11, 1531, the Zurich
vanguard under Goldli was (perhaps owing to his
treachery) surprised, and despite reinforcements the men
of Zurich were beaten, among the slain being Zwingli
himself. Another defeat completed the discomfiture of
Zurich, and by the second peace of Kappel (November
1531) the principle of "parity" was recognized,- rwt
merely in the case of each member of the League and the
" common bailiwicks," btst also in that of each pariah or
'^commune." Thus everywhere the rights of a minority
were protected from the encroachments of the majority.
The " Christliches Burgrecht " was abolished, and Zurich
condemned to pay heavy damages. BulUnger succeeded
Zwingli, but this treaty meant that neither side could
now try to convert the other wholesale. The League was
permanently split into two religions camps : the Catholics,
who met at Lucerne, numbered, besides the five already
mentioned, Freiburg, Solothurn, AppenzeU (Inner Ehoden),.
and St Gall (with Wallis), thus commanding sevsnteeo
votes (out of twenty-nine) in the diet ; the Evangelicals
were Zurich, Bern, Basel, Schaffhausen, AppenzeU (Ausser
Rhoden) (with Graubiinden), who met at Aarau; while
Thurgau and Glarus were divided.
Bern had her eyes always fixed upon the Savoyard Conqne*
lands to the south-west, in which she had got a footing in "' '^^^i
1475, and now made zeal for religious reforms tho excuse ''^^'*
for resuming her advance policy. In 1526 William Fare!,
a preacher from Dauphin^, had been sent to reform Aigle,
Morat, and NeuchatcL la 1532 he came to Geneva, an
ancient city of which the rule had long been disputed by
the prince-bishop, the burgesses, and the house of Savoy,
the latter holding the neighbouring districts. She had
become in 1519 the ally of Freiburg, in 1526 that of
Bern also; and in 1530, by their influence, a peace was
made between the contending parties. (In 1531 Bonivard,
the prior of St Victor, for joining a rising in favour of
political liberty, was imprisoned in the castle of ChOIon,
remaining there till 1536.) The religious changes
introduced by Farel greatly displeased Freiburg, which
abandoned the alliance (1534), and in 1535 the Refor-
mation was firmly planted in the city. The duke of
1499-1648.]
SWITZERLAND
791
Savoy, however, took up arms against Barn (lo3G), who
overran Gcx, Vaud, and the independent bishopric of
Lausanne, as well as the Chablais to the south of the lake.
Geneva was only saved by the unwillingness of the
citizens. Bern thus ruled north -nnd south of the lake,
and carried matters with a high hand. Shortly after this
John Calvin, a refugee from Picardy, was, when passing
through Geneva, detained by Farel to aid hinr, and, after
an exile from 1538-1541, owing to opposition of the
papal party, and of the burghers, who objected to Bernese
rule, he set up his wonderful theocratic government in
the city, pushing Zwingli's principles to their ultimate
conclusions (see Servetus) (1553), and in 1555 expelling
many who upheld municipal liberty, replacing them by-
French, English, Italians, and Spaniards as new burghers,
whose names are still frequent in Geneva (e.g., CandoUe,
JIallet, Diodati). His theological views led to disputes
with the Zuricli Reformers, which were partly settled by
the Consensus Tir/iirinns of 1549, and more completely by
the Helvetic Confession of 1566, which formed the basis of
union between the two parties.
By the time of Calvin's death (1564) the old faith
had begun to take the offensive ; the reforms made by
the council of Trent urged on the Catholics to make an
attempt to recover lost ground. Emmanuel Philibert,
duke of Savoy, the hero of St Quehtin (1557), and one of
the greatest generals of the day, with the support of the
Catholic members of the League, demanded the restoration
of the districts seized by Bern in 1536, and on October
30, 1564, the treaty of Lausanne confirmed the decision of
the other Confederates sitting as arbitrators (according to
the old constitutional custom). By this treaty Ges, the
Genevois, and the Chablais were to be given back, while
,Vevey, Chillon, Lausanne, Yverdun were to be kept by
Bern, who engaged to maintain the old rights and liberties
•of Vaud, which in 1565 were further placed under the
special protection of France. Thus Bern lost the lands
south of the lake, in which St Francis of Sales, the exiled
prince-bishop of Geneva, at once proceeded to carry out
the restoration of the old faith. In 1555 Bern and
Freiburg, as creditors of the debt-laden count, divided the
county of Oruyferes, thus getting fresh .French-speaking
subjects. In 1558 Geneva renewed her alliance with
Bern, and in 1584 she made one with Zurich.
The decrees of the council of Trent had been accepted
fully by the Catholic members of the League, so far as
relates to dogma, but not as regards discipline or the
relations of church and state, the sovereign rights and
jurisdiction of each state being always carefully reserved.
The Counter lleformation, however, or reaction in favour
jf the old faith, was making rapid progress in the Con-
federation, mainly through the indefatigable exertions of
Charles Borromeo, from 1560 to 1584 archbishop of Milan
(in which diocese the Italian bailiwicks were included),
and nephew of Pius IV., supported at Lucerne by Ludwig
Pfyffer, who, having been (1562-1570) the chief of the
Swiss mercenaries in the French wars of religion, did so
mnch till his death (1594) to further the religious reac-
tion at borne that he was popularly known as the " Swiss
king." In 1574 the Jesuits, the great order of the
reaction, were established at Lucerne ; in 1579 a papal
nuncio came to Lucerne ; Charles Borromeo founded the
"Collegium Helveticum " at Milan for the education of
forty two young Swiss, and the Catholic members of the
League made an alliance with the bishop of Basel ; in
1581 tiie Capuchins were introducoa to influence the more
isnorant classes. Most important of all was the Golden or ,
JWrimcan League, concluded (October 5, 1586) between
tlio seven Catholic members of tho Confederation (Uri,
JSchwyz, Unlcrwalden, Lucerne. Zug, Freiburg, and Solo-
thurn) for the maintenance of the true faith in meir
territories, each engaging to punish backsliding members
" and to help each other if attacked by external enemies,
notwithstanding any other leagues, old or new. This
league marks the final breaking up of the Confederation
into two great parties, which greatly hindered its pro-
gress. The Catholic members had a majority in the diet,
and wore therefore able to refuse admittance to Geneva,
Strasburg, and Miihlhausen. Another result of these
rehgious differences was the breaking up of Appenzell
into two bits (1597), each sending one representative to
the diet — " Inner Ehoden " remaining Catholic, "Ausser
Pihoden " adopting the new views. We may compare
with this the action of Zurich in 1555, when she received
the Protestant exiles from Locarno and the Italian baili-
wicks into her burghership, and Italian names are found
there to this day {e.g., Orelli, Muralt) The duke of Savoy
made several vain attempts to get hold of Geneva, the last
(in 1602) being known as the "Escalade."
In the Thirty Years' War the Confederation remained
neutral, being bound both to Austria (1474) and to
France (1516), and neither religious party wishing to give
the other an excuse for calling in foreign armies, But the
troubles in Ehartia threatened entanglement.s. Austria
wished to secure the Miinsterthal (belonging to the League
of the Ten Jurisdictions), and Spain wanted the command
of the passes leading from the Valtelline (conquered by
the leagues of Rhastia in 1512), the object being to
connect the Hapsburg lands of Tyrol and Milan'. In the
Valtelline the rule of the Three Leagues was very harsh,
and Spanish intrigues easily brought about the massacre of
1620, by which tho valley was won, the Catholic members
of the Confederation stopping the troops of Zurich and
Bern. In 1622 the Austrians conquered the Priittigau,
over which they still had certain feudal rights. French
troops regained the Valtelline in 1624, but it was lost once
more in 1629 to the imperial troop.s, and it was not till
1635 that the French, -under .Rohan, finally succeeded ia
holding it. The French, however, wished to keep it per-
manently; hence new troubles arose, and in 1637 the
natives, under George Jenatsch, with Spanish aid drove
them out, the Spaniards themselves being forced to resign it
in 1639. It was only in 1649-52 that the Austrian rights
in the Priittigau were finally bought up by the League of
the Ten Jurisdictions, which thus gained its freedom.
In consequence of Ferdinand II. 's edict of restitution
(1629), by which tho'status quooi 1552 was re-established
— the high-water mark of the Counter Reformation — the
abbot of St Gall tried to make some religious changes in
his territories, but the protest of Zurich led 'to tho Baden
compromLse of 1632, by which, in the case of disputes
on religious matters arising in tho "common bailiwicks,"
the decision was to be, not by a majority, but by means
of friendly discussion — a logical application of the doctrine
of religious parity — or by arbitration.
But by far the most important event in Swiss history in
Ihis ago is tho formal freeing of tho Confederation from
the empire. Basel had been admitted a member of the
League in 1501, two years after the Confedoratioo had
been practically freed from, the jurisdiction of the impe-
rial chamber, , though tho city was included in the new
division of tho empire into "circles" (1521), which did
not take in the older members of tho Confederation.
Ba.sci, however, refused to admit this jurisdiction; tho
question was taken up' by France and Sweden tvt tho
congress of Miinster, and formed the subject of a cpociaJ
claaso in the treaties of -Wostiijialia, by which tho citj
of Basel and the other " Helvetibrum cantones " wort
declared to be " in the po.'*30s."=ion of almost entire libortj
and exemption from the finpiro, and nullaUntu subja:!
792
SWITZERLAND
French
faflu-
•nee,
religious
of an
■risto-
sracy.
to the imperial tribunals." This was intended to mean
exemption from all obligations to the empire (with which
the Confederation was connected hereafter simply as a
fnend), and to be a definitive settlement of the question
Thus by the events of M99 and 1648 the Confederation
bad become an independent European state, which, by the
treaty of 1516, stood as regards France in a relation of
neutrality.
In 1668, in consequence of Louis XIV. 's temporary
occupation of the Franche Comte, an old scheme for set-
tling the number of men to be sent by each member of the
Confederation to the joint army, and the appointment of a
council of war in war time, that is, an attempt to create a
pommon military organization, was accepted by the diet
which was to send two deputies to the council, armed with
full political powers. This agreement, known as the
Pefcnnonale, is the only instance of joint and unanimous
hction in this miserable period of Swiss history, when re-
ligious divisions crippled the energy of the Confederation
_ Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries the Confedera-
tion was practically a dependency of France. In 1614
....6.-M. Zurich for the first time joined in the treaty, which was
divisions, renewed in 1663 with special provisions as regards the
.ndnse Protestant Swiss mercenaries in the king's pay and a
promise of French neutrality in case of civil war in the
League. The Swiss had to stand by while Louis XIV
won Alsace (1648), Franche Comt^ (1678). and Strasburg
(1681). But, as Louis inclined more and more to an anti-
Protestant policy, the Protestant members of the League
favoured the Dutch military service ; and it was throu<rh
their influence that in 1707 the "states" of the principalily
of Neuchatel, on the extinction of the Longueville line of
these princes, decided in favour of the king of Prussia
(representing the overlords— the house of ChaHon-Orauae)
as against the various French pretenders claiming from
the Longueville dynasty by descent or by will In 1715
the_ Catholic members of the League, in hopes of retrievine
their defeat of 1712 (see below), agreed, while renewing
the treaty and capitulations, to put France in the position
of the guarantor of the League, with rights of interfering
m case of attack from within or from without, whether by
counsel or arms. This last clause was simply the surrender
of Swiss independence, and was strongly objected to by
the Protestant members of the Confederation, so that in
1777 it was dropped, when all the Confederates made a
fresh defensive alliance, wherein their sovereitrnty and
independence. were expressly set forth. Thus France had
succeeded to the position of the empire with regard to
the Confederation, save that her claims were practically
asserted and voluntarily admitted.
Between 1648 and 1798 the Confederation was dis-
tracted by religious divisions, and feelings ran very high
• f^=T® ,'° '®' "P "" *''°*''^' administration fell through
in 1655, through jealousy of Bern and Zurich, the pro-
posers. In 1656 a question as to certain religious refu-
gees, who were driven from Sch^vyz and took refuge at
Zuridi, brought about the first Villmergen war, in which
the Catholics were successful, and procured a clause in
the treaty asserting very strongly the absolute sovereignty
m religious as well as in political matters of each member
of the League within its own territories. Later the
attempt of the abbot of St Gall to enforce his rights in
the Toggenburg swelled into the second Villmergen war
(1/12, which turned out very ill for the defeated
Catholics. Zurich and Bern were henceforth to hold in
severalty Baden, Rapperschwyl, and part of the "common
bailiwicks " of the Aargau, both towns being given a share
in the government of the rest, and Bern in that of Thurgau
and Rheinthal, from which as well as from that part of
Aargau slie bnd been carefully excluded in 1415 and 1460
fmSTORY.
The only thing that prospered was the principle of "reli-
gious parity," which was established by every treaty.
The diet had few powers ; the Catholics had the majority
there; the sovereign rights of each member of the Lea-nie
and the limited mandate of the envoys effectually checked
all progress. Zurich, as the leader of the League, managed
matters when the diet was not sitting, but could not°en-
force her orders. The Confederation was little more than
a collection of separate atoms, and it is really marvellous
that It did not break up through its owti weakness.
In these same two centuries, the chief feature in
domestic Swiss politics is the growth of an aristocracy
the power of voting and the power of ruling are placed in
the hands of a small class. This is chiefly seen iu Bern
Lucerne, Freiburg, and Solothurn, where there were not
the primitive democracies of the Forest districts nor the
government by guilds as at Zurich, Basel, and Schaff-
hausen. It was effected by refusing to aimit any new
burghers, a practice which dates from the middle of the
16th century, and is connected (like the similar move-
ment in the smaller local units of the " communes " in the
rural districts) with the question of poor relief after the
suppression of the monasteries. Outsiders (Hintersiissen
or Niedgelassene) had no political rights, however ion^-
I they might have resided, while the privileges of burgher'^
!ship were strictly hereditary. Further, within the
burghers, a small class succeeded in securing the monopoly
of all public offices, which was kept up by the practice of
co-opting, and was known as the "patriciate." So in
Bern, out of 360 burgher families, 80 (in 1776 18 only)
formed the ruling oligarchy ; and, though to foreigners the
government seemed admirably managed, yet the last thing
that could be said of it was that it was democratia In
1749 Henzi made a fruitless attempt to overthrow this
oligarchy, like Fatio at Geneva in 1707. The harsh
character of Bernese rule (and the same holds good with
reference to Uri and the Val Leventina) was shown in the
great strictness with which Vaud was kept in hand: it
was ruled as a conquered land by a benevolent despot,
and we can feel no surprise that Davel in 1723 tried to
free his native land, or that it was in Vaud that the
principles of the French Revolution were most eagerly
welcomed. Another result of this aristocratic tend'ency
was the way in which the cities despised the neighbouring
country districts, and managed gradually to deprive them
of their equal political rights and to levy heavy taxes
upon them. These and other grievances (the fall in the
price of food after the close of the Thirty Years' War, the
lowering of the value of the coin, &c.), combined with the
presence of many soldiers discharged after the great war,
led to the great Peasant Revolt (1653) in the territories of
Bern, Solothurn, Lucerne, and Basel, interesting histori-
cally as being the first popular rising since the old days of
the 13th and 14th centuries, and because reminiscences of
legends connected with those times led to the appearance
of the "three Tells," >vho greatly stirred up the people.
The rising was put down at the cost of much bloodshed,
but the demands of the peasants were not granted. Yet
during this period of political poweriessness a Swiss
literature first arises: Gessner and Tschudi in the 16th
century are succeeded by Scheuchzer, Haller, Lavater,
Bodmer, De Saussure, Rousseau, J. von Miiller; the taste
for Swiss travel is stimulated by the publication of Ebel'e
guide-book, based on the old Delicix; industry throve
greatly. The residence of such brilliant foreign writers
as Voltaire and Gibbon within or close to the territories
of the Confederation helped on this remarkable intellectual
revival. Political aspirations were not, however, wholly
crushed, and found their centre in the Helvetic Society,
founded in 1762 by Balthasar and others.
1648-1803.]
SWITZERLAND
793
The Confederation ' and France had been closely con-
nected for so long that the outbreak of the French
Eevolution could not fail to affect the Swiss. Tlio
Helvetian Club, founded at Paris in 1790 by several exiled
Vaudois and Freiburgers, was the centre from which the
new ideas were spread in the western part of the Con-
federation, and risings directed or stirred up. In 1790
Lower Wallis rose against the oppressive rule of the upper
districts; in 1792 Porrentruy defied the prince-bishop of
Basel, despite the imperial troops he summoned, declared
the "Kauracian" republic, and three months later became
the French department of the Mont Terrible ; Geneva was
only saved (1792) from France by a force sent from
Zurich and Bern ; and the massacre of the Swiss guard at
the Tuileries on August 10, 1792, aroused intense indigna-
tion. The rulers, however, unable to enter into the new
ideas, contented themselves with suppressing them by
force, e.g., Zurich in the case of Stafa (1795). St Gall
managed to free itself from its abbot (1795-97), but
tte Leagues of Rhcetia so oppressed their subjects in the
Valtelline that in 1797 Bonaparte (after conquering the
Milanese from the Austrians) joined them to the Cisalpine
republic. The diet was distracted by party struggles, and
the fall of the old Confederation was not far distant. The
rumours of the vast treasures stored up at Bern, and the
desire of securing a bulwark against Austrian attack,
specially turned the attention of the Directory towards
the Confederation ; and this was utilized by the heads of
the reform party in the Confederation, — Ochs, the burgo-
master of Basel, and La Harpe, who had left his home in
Vaud through disgust at Bernese oppression, both now
toishing Cor aid from outside in order to free their land
from the rule of the oligarchy. Hence, when La Harpe,
at the head of twenty-two exiles from Vaud and Freiburg,
called (November 20, 1797) on the Directory to protect
the liberties of Vaud, which France by the treaty of 1565
was bound to guarantee, his appeal found a ready answer.
In 1798 French troops occupied Miihlhausen and Bienne
{Biel), as well as those parts of the lands of the -prince-
bishop of Basel (St Imier and the Munsterthal) as regards
which he had been since 1579 the ally of the Catholic
members of the Confederation. Another army entered
Vaud (February 1798), when the "Lemanic republic"
was proclaimed, and the diet broke up in dismay without
taking any steps to avert the coming storm. Brune and
his army occupied Freiburg and Solothurn, and, after
fierce fighting at Neueneck, entered (March 5) Bern,
deserted by her allies, and distracted by quarrels within.
With Bern, the stronghold of the aristocratic party, fell the
old Confederation. The Revolution triumphed throughout
the Confederation. Brune, on March 19, put forth a won-
derful scheme by which the Confederation with its " asso-
ciates " and " subjects " was to be split into three republics
— the Tellgau {i.e., the Forest districts), the Rhodanic
{i.e., Vaud, Wallis, the Bernese Oberland, and the Italian
bailiwicks), and the Helvetic {i.e., the north and cast
portions); but the Directory disapproved of this (March 23)
and on March 29 the Helvetic republic, one and indivis-
ible, was proclaimed. This was accepted by ten out of
the thirteen members of the old Confederation,* as well as
the constitution drafted by Ochs. By the new scheme
'the territories of the Everlasting League were split up into
twenty-thrco (later nineteen, Rhaetia only coming in in
1799) administrative districts, called "cantons," a name
now officially used in Switzerland for the first time, though
it may bo found employed by foreigners in the French
treaty of 1452, in Comines and Machiavelli, and in the
treaties of Westphalia (1G48). A central Government was
set up, with its seat at Lucerne, comprising a senate and
a great council, together forming the legislature, with an
22— 28*
executive of five directors chosen by the legislature, and
having four ministers as subordinates or "chief secretaries."
A supreme court of justice was set up ; a status of Swiss
citizenship was recognized ; and absolute freedom to settlo
in any canton was given, the political " communes " being
now composed of all residents, and not merely of the
burghers. For the first time an attempt was made to
organize the Confederation as a single state, but the change
was too sweeping to last, for it largely ignored the local
patriotism which had done so much to create the Con-
federation, though more recently it had made it politically
powerless. The three Forest districts rose in rebellioB
against the invaders and the new constitutions which
destroyed their ancient prerogatives ; but the valiant
resistance of the Schwyzers, under Alois Reding, on the
heights of Morgarten (April and May), and that of the
Unterwaldners (September), were put down by French
armies. The proceedings of the French, however, soon
turned into disgust and hatred the joyful feelings with
which they had been hailed as liberators. Geneva was
annexed to France (1798) ; Gersau, after an independent
existence of over 400 years, was made a mere district of
Schwyz ; immense fines were levied and the treasury at
Bern pillaged ; the land was treated as if it had been
conquered. The new republic was compelled to make a
very close offensive and defensive alliance with France, and
its directors were practically nominated from Paris. la
1799 Zurich, the Forest cantons, and Rhsetia became the
scene of the struggles of the Austrians (welcomed with
joy) against the French and Russians. The manner too
in which the reforms were carried out alienated many,
and, soon after the Directory gave way to the Consulate in
Paris (18 Brumaire or November 10, 1799), the Helvetic
directory (January 1800) was replaced by an executive
committee.
The scheme of the Helvetic republic had gone too .far The
in the direction of centralization ; but it was not easy to ^'^'.°*
find the happy mean, and violent discussions went on ^^^*'
between the " unitary " (headed by Ochs and La Harpe)
and "federalist" parties. Many drafts were put forward,
and one actually submitted to but rejected by a popular
vote (May 20, 1802). In July 1802 the French troops
were withdrawn from Switzerland by Bonaparte^ osten-
sibly to comply with the treaty of Amiens, really to
show the Swiss that their best hopes lay in appealing to
him. The Helvetic Government was gradually driven
back by armed force, and the federalists seemed getting
the best of it, when (October 4) Bonaparte offered himself
as mediator, and summoned many of the chief Swiss
statesmen to Paris to discuss matters with him (the
"Consulta" — December 1802). He had long taken a
very special interest in Swiss matters, and in 1802 had
given to the Helvetic republic the Frickthal (ceded to
France in 1801 by Austria), the last Austrian possession
within the borders of the Confederation. On the othai
hand, he had made (November 1802) Wallis into an indo
pendent republic. In the discussions he pointed out thai
Swnss needs required a federal constitution and. a neutrs^
position guaranteed by France. Finally (February 14
1803) he laid before the Consulta the Act of Mcdiatio*
which he had elaborated, and which they had perforce U
accept — a document which formed a new departure it
Swiss history, and the influence of which is visible in th)
present constitution.
Throughout, "Switzerland" is used for the first tiin<
as the official name of the Confederation. The thirteen
members of the old Confederation before 1798 are set up
again, and to them are added six new cantons,— two (St
Gall and Graubiinden or Orisons) having been formcrlj
" associates," and the four others being made up of th<
794
S W I T Z E R L A N D
[history^
iSEject lands conquered at different times, — Aargan (1415),
riiurgau (1460), Ticino or ^essin (1440, 1500, 1512), and
Vaud, (153.6)- In tlie diet, six cantons which had a
population of more than 100,000 (viz., Bern, Zurich,
Vaud, St Gall, Oraubiinden, and Aargau) were given two
votes, the others having but one apiece, and the deputies
were to vote freely within limits, though not against their
instructions. .Meetings of the diet were to be held
alternately at Freiburg, Bern, Solothurn, Basel, Zurich,
end Lucerne, — the Gtovernment of each of these cantons
becoming, by virtue of the presence of the diet, ■ the
executive of the Confederation, its chief magistrate being
named the "landamman of Switzerland." The "lands-
gemeinden," or popular assemblies, were restored in the
democratic cantons, the cantonal governments in other
cases being in the hands of a "great council" (legisla-
tive) and the "small council" (executive), — a property
qualification being required both for voters and candidates.
No canton was to form any political alliances abroad or
at home. The "communes" were given larger political
rights, the burghers who oivned and used the common
lands becoming more and more i^rivate associations.
There was no Swiss burghership, as in 1798, but perfect
liberty of settlement in any canton. There were to be no
privileged classes or subject lands. A very close alliance
with France (on the basis of that of 1516) was concluded.
The whole constitution and organization were far better
suited for the Swiss than the more symmetrical system
of the Helvetic republic ; but, as it was guaranteed by
Bonaparte, and his influence was. predominant, the whole
fabric was closely bound up with him, and fell with him.
Excellent in itself, the constitution set forth in the Act of
Mediation failed by reason of its setting.
For ten years Switzerland enjoyed peace and prosperity
ander the new constitution. Pestalozzi and Fellenberg
worked out their educational theories; K. Escher of Zurich
embanked theLinth, and was thence called "vonderLinth";
the central Government prepared many schemes for the
common welfare. On the other hand, the mediator (who
became emperor in 1804) lavishly expended his Swiss
troops, the number of which could only be kept up by a
regular blood tax, while the " Berlin decrees " raised the
price of many articles. In 1806 the principality of
Neuchatel was given to Marshal Berthier; Tessin was
occupied by French troops from 1810 to 1813, and in
1810 Wallis was made into the department of the Sim-
plon, so as to secure that pass. At home, the liberty of
moving from one canton to another (though given by
the constitution) was, by the diet in 1805, restricted by
requiring ten years' residence, and then not granting
political rights in the canton or a right of profiting by the
communal property. As soon as Napoleon's power began
to wane (1812-13), the position of Switzerland became
endangered. Despite the personal wishes of the czar (a
pupil of La Harpe's), the Austrians, supported by the
reactionary party in Switzerland, and without any real
resistance on the part of the diet, as well as the Eussian
.troops, crossed the frontier on December 21, 1813, and a
few days later the diet was induced to declare the abolition
of the 1803 constitution, guaranteed, like Swiss neutrality,
by Napoleon. Bern headed the party which wished to
restore the old state of things, but Zurich and the majority
stood out for the nineteen cantons. The powers exercised
great pressure to bring about a meeting of deputies from
all the nineteen cantons at Zurich (April 6, 1814, "the
long diet "), but party strife was so bitter that many
questions had to be referred to the congress sitting at
rienna. The congress decided (March 20, 1815) that
Wallis, Neuchatel, and Geneva should be raised from the
rank of "associates" to that of full members of the
confederation (thus making up the familiar twenty-two),
and as compensation gave Bern the town of Bienne (Biel)
and all (save a small bit which went to Basel) of the
territories of the prince-bishop of Basel (" the Bernese
Jura ") ; but the Valtelline was granted to Austria, and
Muhlhausen was not freed from France.
The diet accepted this decision, and on August 7, 181.5,
the new constitution was sworn to by all the cantons save
Nidvvald, the consent of which was only obtained by
armed force, a delay for which she paid by seeing Engel-
berg and the valley above (acquired by Nidwald in 1798)
given to Obwald. By the new constitution the sove-
reign rights of each canton were fully recognized, and a
return made to the lines of the old constitution, though
there were to be no subject lands, and political rights
were not to be the exclusive privilege of any class of
citizens. Each canton had one vote in the diet, where
an absolute majority was to decide all matters save foreign
affairs, when a majority of three-fourths was required.
The management of current business, ic, shifted every
two years between the Governments of Zurich, Bern,
and Lucerne (the three "Vororte"). The monasteries
were guaranteed in their rights and privileges ; and no
canton was to make any alliance contrary to the rights
of the Confederation or of any other canton. Provision
was made for a federal army. Finally the congress, on
November 20, 1815, placed Switzerland and parts of
North Savoj' (Chablais, Faucigny, and part of the Gene-
vois) under the guarantee of the great powers, who
engaged to maintain their neutrality, thus freeing Swit-
zerland from her 300 years' subservience to France, and
compensating in some degree for the reactionary nature
of the new Swiss constitution when compared withthat
of 1803.
V. The cities at once secured for themselves in the Att
cantonal great councils an overwhelming representation *' '
over the neighbouring country districts, and the agreement
of 1805 as to migration from one canton to another was
renewed by twelve cantons. For some time there was little
talk of reforms, but in 1819 the Helvetic Society definitely
became a political society, and the foundation in 1824 of
the JIarksmen's Association enabled men from all cantons
to meet together A few cantons (notably Tessin) were
beginning to make reforms, when the influence of the July
revolution ' 1830) in Paris and the sweeping changes in
Zui'ich led the diet to declare (December 27) that it
would not interfere with any reforms of cantonal con-
stitutions provided they were in agreement with the pact
of 1815. Hence for the next few years great activity in
this direction was displayed, and most of the canton*
reformed themselves, save the most conservative 'e.g.^
Uri, Glarus) and the advanced who needed no changes
{e.g., Geneva, Graubiinden). Provision was always made
for revising these constitutions at fixed intervals, for the
changes were not felt to be final, and seven cantons — :
Zurich, Bern, Lucerne, Solothurn, St Gall, Aargau, and
Thurgau — ^joined together to guarantee their new free
constitutions (Siebener Concordat of March 17, 1832).
Soon after, the question of revising the federal pact was
brought forward by a large majority of cantons in the diet
(July 17), whereon, by tbeieagueof Sarnen (November 14),
the three Forest cantons, with Neuchatel, the city of Basel,
and Wallis, agreed to malintain the pact of 1815 and to
protest against tho separation of Basel in two halves (for
in the reform struggle Schwyz and Basel had been split
up, though the split was permanent only in the latter
case). A draft constitution providing for a federal
administration distinct from the cantons could not secure
a majority in its favour ; a reaction against reform set in,
and the diet was forced to sanction (1833) the division of
1803-18G2.]
SWITZERLAND
705
Basel into the "city" and "country" divisions (each with
half a vote in the diet), though fortunately in Schwyz the
quarrel was healed. Religious quarrels further stirred up
strife in connexion with Aargau, which was a canton where
'religious parity prevailed, later in others. In Zurich the
extreme pretensions of the radicals and freethinkers (illus-
trated by offering a chair of theology in the university to
Strauss because of his recent Life of Jesus) brought about
a great reaction in 1839, when Zurich was the " Vorort."
In Aargau the parties were very evenly balanced,
and, when in 1840, on occasion of the revision of the
constitution, the radicals had a popular majority, the
aggrieved clerics stirred up a revolt (1840), which was put
down, but which gave their opponents (headed by A.
Keller) the excuse for carrying a vote in the great council
to suppress the eight monasteries in the canton. This
was flatly opposed to the pact of 1815, which the diet by
a small majority (decided must be upheld, though after
many discussions it determined (August 31, 1843) tc
accept the compromise by which four only were to be
suppressed, and declared that the matter was now settled.
On this the seven Catholic cantons — Uri, Schwyz,
TJnterwalden, Lucerne, Zug, Freiburg, and AVallis — formed
(September 7, 1843) a "Sonderbund" or separate league,
which (February 1844) issued a manifesto demanding
the reopening of the question and the restoration of all
the monasteries. Like the radicals in former years the
Catholics went too far and too fast, for in October 1844
the clerical party in Lucerne (in the majority since
1841, and favouring the reaction in Wallis) officially
invited in the Jesuits and gave them high posts, an act
which created all the more sensation because Lucerne was
the " Vorort." Twice (December 1844 and March 1845)
parties of Free Lances tried to capture the city. In
December 1845 the Sonderbund turned itself into an
armed confederation, ready to .appeal to war in defence
of the rights of each canton. The radicals carried Zurich
in 1845 and Bern in 1846, but a majority could not be
secured in the diet till Geneva (October 1846) and St Gall
'May 1847) were won by the same party. On July 20,
1847, the diet, by a small majority, declared that the
Sonderbund was contrary to the federal pact, which on
A.ugust 16 it was resolved to revise, while on September 3
it was decided to invite each canton to expel the Jesuits.
Most of the great powers favoured the Sonderbund, but
England took the contrary view. On October 29 the
deputies of the unyielding cantons loft the diet, which
ordered on November 4 that its decree should be enforced
bj arms. The war was short (November 11-29), mainly
owing to the ability of Dufour, and the loss of life trifling.
One after another the rebellious cantons were forced to
surrender, and, as the Paris revolution of February 1848
occupied all the attention of the great powers (who by
the constitution of 1815 should have been consulted in
the revision of the pact), the S'vviss wore enabled to settle
their own affairs quietly. Schwyz and Zug abolished their
" landsgemeinden," and the seven were condemned to pay
the costs of the war (ultimately defrayed by subscription),
which had been waged rather on religious than on strict
particularist or states-rights grounds. The diet meanwhile
debated the draft constitution drawn up by Kern of Thur-
gau and Druey of Vaud, which in the summer of 1848
was accepted by fifteen and a half cantons, the minority
consisting of the three Forest cantons, "Wallis, Zug, Tessin,
and Appenzell (Inner EhodenV and it was proclaimed on
September 12.
The new constitution inclined rather to the Act of
Mediation than to the system which prevailed before 1798.
A status of "Swiss citizenship" was set up, closely joined
to cantonal citizenship: a man settling in a canton not
being his birthplace got car. tonal citizenship .nf ter two years,
but was excluded from all local rights in the " commune"
where ,he might re.side. A federal or central Government
was set up, to which the cantons gave up a certain part
of their sovereign rights, retaining the rest. The federal
legislature (or assembly) was made up of two'houses— the
council of states (Stiinde Kath), composed of two deputies
from each canton, whether small or great' (44 in all), and
the national council (National Rath), made up of deputies
(now 145 in number) elected for three years, in the propor-
tion of one for every 20,000 souls or fraction over 10,000,
the electors being all Swiss citizens. The federal council
or executive (Bundesrath) consisted of seven members
elected by the federal assembly ; they are jointly respon-
sible for all business, though for sake of convenience there
are various departments, and their chairman is called the
president of the Confederation. The federal judiciary
(Bundesgeficht) is made up of eleven members elected by
the federal assembly for three years ; its jurisdiction ia!
chiefly confined to civil cases, in which the Confederation
is a party (if a canton, the federal council may refer the
case to the federal tribunal), but takes in also great
political crimes, — all constitutional questions, however,
being reserved for the federal assembly. A federal
university and a polytechnic school were to be founded ;
the latter only has as yet been set up, and is fixed at
Zurich. All military capitulations were forbidden in the
future. Every canton must treat Swiss citizens who
belong to one of the Christian confessions like their own
citizens, for the right of free settlement is given to .all
such, though they acquired no rights in the " commune."
All Christians were guaranteed the exercise of their reli-
gion, but the Jesuits and similar religious orders were
not to hd received in any canton. German, French, and
Italian were recognized as national languages.
The constitution as a whole marked a great step
forwards; though very many rights were still reserved
to the cantons, yet there was a fully organized central
government. Almost the first act of the federal assembly
was to exercise the poyer given them of determining the
home of the federal authorities, and on November 28,
1848, Bern was chosen, though Zurich still ranks as the
first canton in the Confederation.
By this early settlement of disputes Switzerland was
j)rotected from the general revolutionary movement of
1848, and in later years her political history has been
uneventful, though she has felt the weight of the great
European crisis in industrial and social matters.
The position of Neuch.ltel, as a member of the Con- Evento
federation (as regards its government only) and as »j"JJj
principality ruled by the king of Prussia, whose rights had
been expressly recognized by the congress of Vienna, was
uncertain. She had not sent troops in 1847, and, though
in 1848 there was a revolution there, the prince did not
recognize the changes. Finally, a royalist conspiracy in
September 1856 to undo the work of 1848 caused grcaV
excitement and anger in Switzerland, and it was only by
the mediation of Napoleon III. and the other powers that
the i)rince renounced (1857) all his rights, save his title,
which his successor (the German emperor) has also dropjicd.
Since that time Neuchatel has been an ordinary member of
the Confederation. In 1859-60 the cession of Savoy ([xirt
of it neutralized in 1816) to Franco arou.<icd considerable
indignation, and in 18G2 the longstanding question of
frontiers in the Valine de Dappes was finally arranged
> T1.0 method of election and length of term of odico wcro left to
thocantmml Governments; »t ri-e'ei.l(1887). in eleven c«nlon» (or
half cantons) tho people, in fourteen the "g"-"' '^,<;»'";''' .■^'~;!
twelve elect for one year and l^^^elvo for thr«o, W«Ul« holding to
Iho lucau of two years.
796
S W I 1^ Z E R L A N D
wRh France, In 1871 many'Freucir refugees, especially
Bourbaki'a arraj'y were most hospitably received and
ehelteredy ^Tbe growth of the Old Catholics after the
Vatican council (1870) caused many disturbances iu
"Western Switzerland, especially in the Bernese Jura. The
attack was led by Bishop Lachat of Basel, whose see was
suppressed by several cantons in 1873. The Old Catholics
Jiave been recognized by nine cantons and the see of Basel
,8et up again, though Bern does not recognize it. The
appointment by the pope of the abb6 Mermillod as
'" apostolic vicar " of Geneva, which was separated from
the diocese of Freiburg, led to Monseigneur Mermillod's
banishment from Switzerland (1872), but in 1883 he was
raised to the vacant see of Freiburg and allowed by the
federal authorities to return, though Geneva still refuses
to recognize hira. Perhaps the latest event of importance
to Switzerland was the opening of the St Gotthard tunnel,
which was begun in 1871 and ended in 1880; by it the
Forest cantons seem likely to regain the importance which
Vas theirs in the early days of the Confederation.
'From, 1848 onwards the cantons continually revised
tneir constitutions, always in a democratic sense, though
after the Sonderbund War Schwyz and Zug abolished their
" landsgemeinde." The chief point was the introduction
of the referendum, by which laws made by the cantonal
Jegislature may (facultative referendum) or must (obligatory
^referendum) be submitted to the people for their approval,
lind this has obtained such general acceptance that Frei-
burg alone does not possess the referendum in either of its
two forms, Tessin having accepted it in its optional form
yn 1883. It was therefore only natural that attempts
fhould be made to revise the federal constitution of 1848
n a democratic and centralizing sense, for it had been pro-
vided that the federal assembly, on its own initiative or on
Ihe written request of 50,000 Swiss electors, could submit
the question of revision to a popular vote. In 1866 the
hestriction of certain rights (mentioned above) to Christians
only was swept away ; but the attempt at final revision
in 1872 was defeated by a small majority, owing to the
efforts of the anti-centralizing party. Finally, however,
another draft was better liked, and on April 19, 1874, the
Revised new constitution was accepted by the people — 14,V cantons
against 7i (those of 1848 without Tessin, but with Frei-
burg and Lucerne) and 340,199 votes as against 198,013.
This constitution is that now in force, and is simply an
improved edition of that of 1848. The federal tribunal
(now of nine members only) was fixed (by federal law) at
jLausanne, and its jurisdiction enlarged, especially in con-
stitutional disputes between cantons and the federal autho-
k-ities, though jurisdiction in administrative matters (*>.</.,
educational, religious, election, commercial) is given to
khe federal council, a division of functions which is very
knomalous, and does not work well. A system of free
lelementary education was set up, and many regulations
tanade on ecclesiastical matters. A man settling in another
canton was, after a residence of* three months only, given
all cantonal and communal rights, save a share in the
common property (an arrangement which as far as possible
kept up the old principle that the " commune " is the true
Imit out of which cantons and the Confederation are built),
ind the membership of the " commune " carries with it
antonal and federal rights. The referendum was intro-
uced in its "facultative" form; i.e., all federal laws
(nust be submitted to popular vote on the demand of
50,000 Swiss electors or of eight cantons. If the revision
pf the federal constitution is demanded by one of the two
nouses of the federal assembly or by 50,000 Swiss citizens,
the question of revision must be submitted to a popular
vote, as also the draft of the revised constitution, — these
j)rovisions,,«mtained already, in the constitution of 1848,
eousti
(ution
•( 1874.
LHISTORY.
forming a species of " obligatory refcirndum." It was sup-i
posed that this plan would lead to radical and sweeping
changes ; but as a matter of fact there have been (1874-86)
about one hundred and seven federal laws and resolutions
passed by the assembly, of which nineteen were by the
referendum submitted to popular vote, thirteen being re-
jected, while six only were accepted, — the rest becoming
law as no referendum was demanded. There has been a
very steady opposition to all schemes aiming at increased
centralization, By the constitutions of 1848 and 1874
Switzerland has ceased to be a mere union of independent
states joined by a treaty, and has become a single state
with a well-organized central Government, to which have
been", given certain of the rights of tlie independent
cantons, but increased centralization would destroy the
whole character of the Confederation, in which the can-
ton» are not administrative divisions but living political
•cODrtnunities. Swiss history teaches us, all the way
through, that Swiss liberty has been won by a close union
of many small states, and we cannot doubt that it will be
best preserved by the same means, and not by obliterating
all local peculiarities, nowhere so striking an(L_nowhere so
historically important as in Switzerland.
Chronological Table of Chief Evcnls.
1291. Firet League of the Throe
Lands.
1315. Morgaiten.
1353. The Eight Orte complete.
1386. Sempach.
1388. Nafels.
1394. Hapsbnrgsgive np rights.
1444. St Jakob ail Jet Birs.
1474. Everlasting Compact.
1476. Granson and Morat. '
1481. Compact of Stanz.
1499. Practical Freedom flroni
1513. The Thiitccn-coTiiliiat
1516. Alliance wl ill Franco.
1531. Kappel.
1586. Golden League.,
1-648. Formal Freedom fronTllii
Empire.
1798. Tlio Helvetic Republic!
1803. Act of Mediation— 19
Cantons.
1815. Federal Pact— 22 Cantons.
1847. Sonderbund War.
1848. Federal Constitution.'
1874. Revised Constitution.'
tho Empire.
Genera} Authorities. — For the eaily hlatory, the works of Ilubcr, nilllct, nnrt
Von Wysa (see Tell) may bo consulted: for Kenerul political history those of
Dacuct, Ddiidllkcr (large and small veislons), Henno am Rhyn, Oechsli, Strlckler,
Vulllemln; and. for constitutional history, those of Blunicr. Bluntschll, IMibft,
Meyer, and Orelll. Of those named, the works of Itllllct, Daiidllkcr (the
Binall version), Strlckler, Dubs, and Orelll are best suittd for foieign rcadere.
Books on local history and on special periods abound, and many very valuable
essays are hidden In the publications of the numerous cantonal hlstoilcul
societies. Of modem English works relating to Swltzeiland Ihe most note-
worthy are G. Grote, Sevtu tetters concerning the Politics of Sicitzerlnmt Itlie
Soiideibund War of 1847J (orlRinnlly published 1847, reiuhitcd 187C), and B.
A. Freeman, " Review of 1th k's 'Charles ttie Bold.'" In lliatoricat Essctys, first
series, 1872. pp. 335-370, and llistoricat Geography of Europe, 16S1. The RTcat
J/istorisch'Geographischer Atlas der Schirei:, by Viigelin, Meyer von Knonau, and
Von Wyss (Zurich, 1870), Is almost Indispensable to any seiious student of Swiss
history. Gerster's small maps are appended to Oechsli's history, and also put>-
Ushed separately. (W. A. U. C.)
iPaIIT III. LlTERATCTRE.
^y V
It can hardly be said of Switzerland that she possesses
a truly national literature. She has a literature in French
and a literature in German, but these literatures are not
the expression of a common intellectual life, for the
German and French cantons have always been to some
extent dominated by different ideas and sympathies.
Political union has been only in part associated tvith tho
deeper union which relates to purely ideal interests.
Even the difference between the French and the German
literatures of Switzerland does not give a complete con-
ception of the diversity of thought and sentiment which
exists in the country. Switzerland has also produced
Italian ■writers and writers who use the Komansch dialect
of the Grisons. The Komansch and Italian branches of
her literature are not, however, sufficiently important to
deserve more than passing notice.
During the struggles against the Hapsburgs ' the mem-
bers of the Confederation were too seriously occupied \i\
defending their political rights and in adding to their
territory to be very eager for the satisfaction of intellectual
needs. They produced some vigorous war songs, but in
other re.spects_they. were 'content _with. such, literature as
Literature.]
S W I r Z E E L A N D
797
' might jiappen to reacli them from neighbouring countries.
lAt the time of the Reformation there was much intel-
lectual activity in Switzerland, but it related chiefly to the
controversy of the Protestants with the Church of Home ;
and Zwingli, BuUinger, and the other Keforraers of the
German canton.s were not, like Luther, wise enough to
write important treatises in the language of the people.
'They wrote chiefly in Latin, reserving the use of German
for sermons and hymns. One good writer of this period
■whose interest was not confined to theology was Francjois
Bonnivard, who, although a native of Savoy, had, a.s
prior of the monastery of St Victor, been associated with
Geneva before the Eeformation. He was one of the most
resolute of those who opposed the ambition of Charles
IIL, duke of Savoy ; and it is he whose sufferings in the
service of his adopted country have been immortalized by
Ijyron in " The Prisoner of Chillon." After his release from
imprisonment he became a Protestant, and wrote in French
several important books, the chief of which is his Chron-
iques de Geneve. This work is written in a bright and
animated style, and is especially valuable for its account
of events with which the author himself was connected.
Another vigorous writer of the 16th century was iEgidius
Tsehudi, who remained loyal to the Roman Church. He
devoted himself with enthusiasm to the study of history.
The only result of his labours given to the world in his
lifetime was Die wait wahrhafftiy a/pisch Rhfilia, but
several other works have since been published, the most
important being his Chronicon Helvetiexim and his Haupt-
scMiissel zu verscMedenen Alterthiimern.
After the Reformation a respect for learning was main-
tained by the university of Basel, the Carolinum of Zurich,
and various other educational institutions in the leading
towns of the Confederation ; but for a long time Switzer-
land took little part in the literary movement of Europe.
Theology was still generally thought to be the only
subject worthy of study by serious minds, and theologians
continued to write their books in Latin (as, for example,
C. Gessner of Zurich). In this respect their example was
followed by men of science. In the few instances in which
scholars belonging to German cantons wished to appeal to
readers who were not specialists, they wrote in French, for
Switzerland was so intimately associated in politics with
France that the French language was spoken by the edu-
cated classes in all parts of the country. French litera-
ture was the only modern literature of which they had any
real knowledge.
Early in the 18th century there were many signs of an
intellectual awakening both in the German and in the
French districts. The literary activity manifested in the
German cantons was indirectly connected with the fact
that they had been gradually acquiring a stronger sense
of political independence. They had been alienated from
Franco by the arrogance of the French Government, and
had been forced to consider whether it might not bo
possible for Switzerland to defend her own interests with-
out foreign patronage. Here and there scholars began t6
interest themselves in Swiss history, and to take pride
in the achievements of the forefathers of the republic ;
and, in proportion as patriotic sentiment increased,
thoughtful men became less inclined to take all their ideas
from the country to which alono they had hitherto looked
for intellectual guidance. . They studied with greater
earnestness the literatures of Greece and Rome, and some
of them turned to English literature, with which they had
not up to this time had the slightest acquaintance. - These
influences gave a powerful impetus to the best aspirations
of the Gorman population of Switzerland, and it was not
in literature only that important results were achieved,
ilembera. of, the family pf Bernaulli ain th& uniyersit^ot.
Rasol had already been doing great work in mathematics;
and now the fame of Switzerland as a country favourable
to the development of science was extended by many
investigators, the best known of whom were Euler, Haller,'
Scheuchzer, and Muralt.
The writer who first gave expression'^lo~the~mest
characteristic literary conceptions of his time in Switzer-
land was J. J. Rodmer, a native of Zurich. He was a
good classical scholar, and in youth had made himself
familiar with some of the masterpieces of English, French,
and Italian literature. In 1721, in association with his
friend Breitinger, a learned Protestant clergyman in
Zurich, he began to issue the Discurse der Maler, written
in imitation of the style of the 'English essayists. In this
periodical the two friends criticized freely the works of
some popular German versifiers, and they wrote with so
much force and confidence that they soon exercised coni
siderable influence not only in Switzerland but in Germanyj
^V^len the value of their work was beginning to be
recognized, a high place was taken among German men
of letters by Gottsched, a professor at Leipsic. » He' was
an ardent admirer of the classic drama of France," and
gathered around him a number of enthusiastic disciples}
known as the Saxon school. For some time he was oa
friendly terms with the Swiss critics, with whom he agreed
in condemning the wild extravagance of Lohenstein and
his imitators. But when Bodmcr and Breitinger went oij
to praise English literature, and to call attention especially
to the splendid qualities of Milton, Gottsched denounced
their opinions as utterly false and misleading. < The result
was that a bitter controversy broke out between the Saxon
and Swiss schools, Bodmer and Breitinger presenting'ari
elaborate statement of critical doctrine, the former in
Vom Wunderbaren in der Poesie (1740), the latter in
Kritische Dichtkunst (1740). The controversy was followed
with great interest by many readers, and, although it was
by and by almost forgotten, it helped to prepare tha
way for the outburst of German literature begun by
Klopstock, Wieland, and Lessing. The theories of all tha
combatants were to some extent crude and even grotesque,'
but Bodmer and Breitinger did excellent service by tha
vigour with which they protested against the notion that
poetry is merely the work of the understanding acting in
subjection to rigid rules, and by their enthusiastic apprfrj
ciation of great English writers. Bodmer also opened fresh
sources of inspiration by editing a part of the Nibelungen,'
lied and some poems of the Minnesinger, — undertakings in
which he anticipated the labours of the Romantic school.!
He wrote an epic, the Noachide, and several dramas, bnt!
his work as a poet is feeble and unimportant in compari-
son with his achievements as an editor and critic.
A. von Haller, who made his fame chiefly as a man of HaU«
science (see" vol. xi. p. 39fi), ranked in literature also
among the foremost men of his day. His poems are too
directly didactic to give much pleasure to modern readers,
but in some of them — especially Die Alpen — there ar»
passages of striking force and beauty. Haller knew th»
Alps not merely' from books but by having visited theni
and to him belongs the credit of having revealed that the]
appeal powerfully to the imagination, and of having assd
ciated them with great thoughts and aspirations. H«
wrote several prose romances, but outside of Switzerland
these works, which had many readers at the time of theii
publication, are now practically forgotten.
A. Swiss writer of the 18tb century who, as a poet;
became more famous even taan Haller was Solomon
Gessner. At Berlin, and Hamburg ho came under the
influence of Ramler and Hagedorn, and after his return
to his native town Zurich, where he lived aa an artist, ho
published a series of.idyHic ppems ■which excited univers.ii
298
SWITZERLAND
[liteeatube.
admiration. The most popular of tiis writings was his
prose idyl, Ber Tod Abel's (1758). ^This work was trans-
lated into many languages, arid was received with not less
favour in Germany, France, and England than in Switzer-
land. There is not much serious thought in Gessner's
works, and his sentiment sometimes degenerates into senti-
mentalism, but a permanent place is secured for him in
literature by his simple, lucid style and by the delicate
grace of his sketches of ideal scenery. These qualities were
warmly appreciated by Lessing and afterwards by Goethe.
Of the German Swiss jioets who were born after Gessner
had become famous the best were J. G. Salis-Seewis and
J. M. Usteri. Salis-Seewis was acquainted with Goethe,
Schiller, Herder, and Wjeland, but he was not so much
influenced by them as by a greatly inferior poet, Matthison,
whose ideas and methods closely resembled his own.
There is little variety of sentiment in the poems of Salis-
Seewis, but their uniformity of tone is prevented from
being tiresome by his perfect sincerity and by the vividness
of his diction. Usteri wrote at least one song—" Freut
euch des Lebens " — which became popular among Germans
of all classes, but his most important writings were some
clever stories in the German dialect of Zurich.
Philosophy, in the strict sense of the terra, was not
profoundly studied in the German cantons in the 18th
century, but philosophical problems, especially those relat-
ing to ethics, were discussed in a popular style by a good
many more or less able writers. Of these writers one of
the most renowned was J. G. Zimmermann. His chief
writings are Ueber die Einsaml-eit {\1 5b) Awi Vom Nation-
(ilstohe (1758). These works present a strange combina-
tion of cynicism and sentimentalism, but they profoundly
impressed Zimmermann's contemporaries, and were trans-
lated into most European languages. J. G. Sulzer s:)ent
the greater part of his life in Berlin, where he was held m
much esteem at the time when Lessing was beginning to
make a name as a critic and dramatist. His principal
work is his AUgemeine Theorie der schonen Kunste, in
which he tried to present a complete exposition of the laws
of art, starting with the philosophical principles of Wolf,
and combining them with critical doctrines derived from
English and French writers. His style is somewhat cold
and formal, and to later generations his governing
thoughts have seemed meagre and unfruitful. H. K.
Hirzel wrote Das BUd eines wahren Patrioten (1767) and
various other works, in which he displayed a considerable
power of expounding and illustrating great moral principles.
He is remembered chiefly, however, by a charming descrip-
tion which he wrote of a day spent by Klopstock and him-
self with some friends on the Lake of Zurich, — a day
celebrated by Klopstock in one of the finest of his e irly
odes. J. K. Lavater made some reputation as a poet, but
he owed his fame chiefly to his Physiognomische Fi-agmente
(1775-78), in which he sought to develop the idea that
the face presents a perfect indication of character, and that
physiognomy may therefore be treated as a science. His
notions are arbitrary and rather mystical, but he expressed
them with so much vigour and enthusiasm that he found
many admirers and disciples. J. H. Pestalozzi was a less
pretentious but infinitely more useful writer than Lavater.
Early in life, mainly through the influence of Rousseau, he
became impressed by the necessity of a radical change in
the methods of popular education ; and Avith splendid self-
sacrifice he devoted his energies to the task of realizing his
ideas and of inspiring others with a sense of their import-
ance. His writings — of which Lienhard und Gertmd is
the best — are not distinguished by any remarkalile literary
iqnalities, but his theories made his name famous all over
the civilized world, and children in every good school may
still be said to profit indirectly by his labours.
In tne l8th century the German cantons produced many
writers on historical subjects. One of the most dis- 1
tinguished of them was I. Iselin, who, in his Geschichte der
MenschJieit (176S), offered suggestions akin to those which
were afterwards set forth with wider knowledge and deeper
insight by Herder. J. H. Tschudi and J. J. Tschudi, The
descendants of /Egidius Tschudi, also did much good work TschndL
as historians. Greater than any of these — the foremost
historical writer of Switzerland — was J. von JlUller, whose
writings marked an era in German literature. His master-
piece is his Geschichte der schweizerischen £idgenossenscho f't
(1780). Jliiller had not an adequate appreciation of the,
laws of evidence in historical inquiry, but he was inde-
fatigable in research, and no German historian of his tima
had so great a power of bringing out the significance of
facts by his method of grouping them. His style, although
sometimes obscure and rhetorical, was often made warn/
and glowing by his eager love of freedom and justice.
The literary movement of the French districts in the
ISth century had little direct relation with that of the'
German cantons. It sprang chiefly from the influence of
French refugees, who flocked in great numbers to western
Switzerland after the revocation of the edict of Nantes.
The most energeftic of the French writers of Switzerland in
the first half of the 18th century was liourguet, the son of Botrsu.
a refugee. He travelled in Italy and Holland, and on his
return to Geneva founded the Bihliothcque Ikdique, which
appeared from 1729 to 173-4. In carrying on this
periodical, which extended to eighteen volumes, Bourguet
was aided by a good many Swiss writers — among others
by Abraham Kuchat and Loys de Bochat of Lausanne.
Bonrguet's colleagues also contributed articles to French
periodicals of a similar kind in Holland, three of which—
the Bibliotheque Uriiverselle el Historique, the Bihliotheque
Choisie, and the Bibliotheque Ancienne et Jlodei-ne — wer-*
conducted by Jean le Clerc, a native of Geneva. In 17.32
Bourguet started at Neuchatel the Mercure Suisse, which
went on until 1784 and did much to stimulate the interest
of its readers in science, literature, history, and archjeolog)'.
The indefatigable editor and his colleagues did not con-
fine themselves to journalistic work; One of his books —
Traite des Petrifactions — was an important contribution to
geology ; and Loys de Bochat wrote a careful book entitled
Jfemoires Critiques .fur VBistCM'e Ancienne de la Suisse.
Ruchat was the author of Histoire de la Reformation de la
Suisse and of Delices de la Suisse. The writings of J. P. Oonmx.
de Crousaz, a friend of Bourguet, display no remark-
able qualities, but two of them, his Examen of Pope's
Essay on Man and his Commentaire on the same poem,
have some interest for English readers. An Enghsh
translation of the Exameii by Mrs Elizabeth Carter was
published in 1739, and led to the intervention of War-
burton, who considered it necessary to prove that the Essay
was not in any way hostile to religion.
During the second half of the 18th century all Europe Roassw'
was reading the works of a Swiss writer, by far the most
illustrious man of letters whom Switzerland has produced
— J. J. Rousseau. He moved civilized mankind by many
a doctrine which no one now holds to be true, but he
owed his astonishing influence not so much to his fallacies
as to his passionate zeal for the rights of the poor, to
his enthusiasm for the free development of individual
character, and to the power with which he reflected in bis
writings the beauty and the splendour of the external
world. Of his own happiness he made shipwreck ; but, if
we judge his work simply by the practical results which
sprang from it, he was perhaps the greatest literary force
of modern times. His family was of French origin, but it
had been so long settled at Geneva that it had become
thoroughly Svnss, and to this fact were dua' some of tb*
LITER A.TURK.]
SWITZERLAND
799
most striking cliaracteristics of his genius. Free and
republican Switzerland was the only Continental country
whose institutions were favourable to the growth of the
ideas with w^hich Rousseau shook to its centre the political
and social system of the 18th century.
Of the other French writers of Switzerland in this age
the most eminent was perhaps H. B. de Saussure, who, in
his Voyages dans les Alpes (1776-79), presented in a lucid
and attractive style the results of much careful observa-
tion. He was one of the founders of geology, and made im-
portant contributions to several other sciences. Another
tlistinguished scientific writer of this time was- Charles
Uonnet, the author of several valuable works on natural
history and psychology. His general conception of the
order of the world he developed sj'stematically in his
Contemplation de. la Nature (1764). JIuch good work
Do was also done by the brothers De Luc, one of whom, Jean-
'■' Andre de Luc, gave in Lettres sur Que/ques Parties de la
Suisse (1787) a very vivid picture of the physical, social,
and political peculiarities of a portion of Switzerland.
Some clever books were written by Madame de
6. da Charrifere, a native of Utrecht, who settled with her hus-
f" band in the principality of Neuchatel in 1771. Much
'■ interest was excited by her lively Lettres Ecrites de
Lausanne and by her Lettres Keiichdtdoises, and both in
Switzerland and in France there were many admirers of
her Mari Sentimental and of the corresponding work
Lettres de Mistress Henley. Samuel Constant, the father
of Benjamin Constant, wrote Camille and some other
romances in the form of letters ; and Conies Moraux, in
the style of Marmontel, were written by J. Senebier, who
did better work as an investigator in physics and physio-
logy-
In the second half of the 18th century there were in
French Switzerland many ardent students of history.
et. One of the ablest of them was P. H. JIallet, who took as
his special subject the antiquities of northern Europe, but
wrote also works on the general history of Denmark,
.nger. Brunswick, and Hesse. B^ranget was the author of a
Histoire ile Geneve ; and Lamberty, who had served as
y- secretary of several legations in Holland and Germany,
brought together in his Memoires many interesting details
about events of which he had personal knowledge. A
good history of Switzerland to the 17th century was written
by De Watteville, and Philibert dealt with the same
subject in a work entitled Les Revolutions de la Haute-
Allemac/ne, in which he brought the story down to 1468.
er. G. E. von Ilaller wrote several excellent historical works,
the most important of which was his Bihliothek der
Schweizeryescluchte.
From the latter part of the 18th century onwards French
Switzerland has produced many influential writer-s, but
they have been so intimately connected with France that
their works properly belong to French Literature. Necker,
who played so great a part in France before the Kevolu-
tion, was one of tho greatest writers of his age on politics
and finance ; and his daughter Madame de Stael, whom,
although she was born in Paris, Switzerland may also claim,
stands in the front rank of women who have devoted them-
selves to literature. Her most brilliant work, Corinne, was
perhaps of less real importance than De I'Allemagne, from
which Frenchmen obtained for the first time authentic
information as to the intellectual devcbpment of Germany.
Benjamin Constant wrote a work on the source, forms, and
history of religion ; he was also tho author of Adolplw, a
romance, and adapted Schiller's Wallenstein for tho French
stage, But his principal work is the collection of his
Otscours I'rononces d, la Chamhre des Dcjmtcs, in which he
eloquently defends, from raimy points of view, the prin-
ciples of constitutional government. De Sisraondi dis-
played astonisning energy as a writer on history, literatui i,
and political economy, and it is still necessary for studenia
of the subjects on which he wrote to consult his works.-
His Histoire des Frangais, although planned on too vast a
scale, is a wonderful monument of industry, learning, and
literary skill, and not less valuable in their own way are
his Histoire de la Renaissance de la lAberte en Italic and
his De la Litterature du Midi de I'Europe. A. Vinet, an
eminent Protestant theologian, produced a great impression
by his Discours sur Quelques Sujets Religieux and various
other theologicaJ works, which are full of vigorous thought
expressed in a clear, direct, and manly style. Among
Swiss noveUsts R. Topffer, author of L'Heritage, Traversee,
and many other works, takes a distinguished place. His
early writings attracted the attention of Goethe, who read
them with pleasure; and Sainte-Beuve, in praising Topffer's
methods, gave utterance to the general opinion of educated
Frenchmen. The three brothers Andre, Antoine Elisde, and The
Joel Cherbuliez, and their sisters Adrienne and Madame Cher-
Tourte-Cherbuliez, were all well known writers ; and Victor '"'''*'■
Cherbuliez, the son of Andre, is one of the brightest and
most fertile novelists of the present day in France. He
commands respect also as a writer on politics.
In the later literature of the German cantons there are
not so many famous names as in the later literature of tho
French cantons. Of a group of writers who connected the
influences of the 18th century with those of the 19th, J. Albertloi.
B. Albertini was the most original ; but he appealed to a
comparatively small class. He was a bishop in the church
of the Moravian Brethren, and his poems give powerful
expression to the deeply religious sentiment of his sect.
A romance by J. C. Appenzeller — Gertrud von Wart Appen.
(1813) — was so popular that it was translated into French, 2«ller,
Dutch, and English ; but it has not maintained the high
place which was for some time attributed to it. J. R. Wy^
Wyss edited the Alpenrosen from 1811 for about twenty
years, and for this periodical he wrote many poems, taking
his subjects chiefly from Swiss history and legends. He
■"Completed and published a story begun by hisfather, Der
Schweizerische Robinson, translations of which have been
widely circulated in France, Spain, England, and America.
He also wrote " Rufst du, mein Vaterland," the great
national song of Switzerland. A. E. Frohlich was a good Frdlilich,
writer of fables, and J. A. Henne made a considerable Henuu.
reputation, not only as a poet but as the writer of a work
entitled Maneihos, die Origiiies wiserer Geschichie und
Chronologie, in which he sought to prove the European
origin of the Aryan race. T. Meyer-Merian, author of the Meyer-
well-known song, "Ichging so ganz alleine," was also a M'fi""-
vigorous dramatist. Dramatic and lyrical poems of some
power were written by T. Bornhauser, but they were too Bom-
plainly intended to serve a political party to have per- li«uscr.
manent signiflcance. A more poetical writer was B. Itcbor..
Reber, whose jBilder aus den ISurgundcr-Kriegeii present
a series of glowing pictures from one of the most snlcndid
periods of Swiss history.
All these writers were surpassed by Albert Bitzius,
known as Jeremias Gotthelf from the title of his first
book. He was tho vicar of Liitzelfliih, and for many ycar.s
found ample scope for his energies in quiet works of
benevolence. Der Bauerspiegel, oJer Lehcnsgeschichte des
Jeremias Gotthelf, published in 1836, when ho was nearly
forty years of age, at once made his narao famous, and it
was followed by Uli der Knccht, Uli der Piichter, Lridcn
und Freudeti eines Scfiulmiistcrs, and other powerful talcs.
Tho charm of his writings springs from tho fact that they
are an accmato representation of tho thoughts, fioliuga
and habits of tho people among whom ho laboured
Bitzius -was a man of an ardent and impulsive temper
but a close observer, capable of penetrating far below th»
800
S W 0 — S WO
surface of life, and endowed with a remarkable faculty
of reproducing his impressions in striking imaginative
pictures. His style is often rough and careless, but his
artistic defects are never serious enough to interrupt the
free development of his fresh and vivid conceptions.
Another German writer of Switzerland whose name is
well known beyond the limits of his own country is
Gottfried Keller. He established his reputation by his
romance Der Griine Heinrich (1854), and afterwards he
published Die Leute von Seldwyla, a series of tales of
village life, and Sieben Legenden. _ He is also the author
of some volumes of poems. ,
See E. H. Gaullicur, Etudes sur VHistoire Littlrair< de la Suisse
Fram;aise {\858) ; J. C. Morikofer, IHe schweizn-ischc Literaiur da
achtzehtiten Jahfhunderls (1861); and R. Weber, Die poctisc/ie,
Nationalliteratur derdeutschen Schweiz (1866-67). (J. SI.)
Index.
Ifricnlture, 779>
llbert of Hapsburg, 782.
llbertini, 709.
VUmends, 779.
lips, 776. 779.
Ippenzetl, 784.
VppenzeUer, 799.
Irea, 776, 778.
\ristocracy, 792.
fcrmy, 780.
Associated districts, 786.
Autliorities, executive
and lepslatlve, 778. ■
Banks, 780.
Basel, 789.
B^anger, 709.
B«m, 784. '
BItzins, 799.
Boilmer, 797. '
Bonaparte, 793.
Bonnet, 799.
Bonnivard, 797. .
Bomhauser, 799. '
Borromeo, 791.
Bourguet, 798.
Breitinger, 797.
Brun, 783.
Bnine, 793.
Bnrgundian War, 786.
Calrtn, 791.
Cantons. 778, 793, 795.
Cattle, 77ft
Census returns, 778. (
Chamois. 777.
Charles (the Bold) ot
Burgundy, 786.
Charrifere, 799.
Cherbuliez, 799.
Churches, 779.
Cities, 778, 779, 794.
Civil war, first, 785.
Climate, 777.
Clock-making, 779.
Commerce, 780,
Communes, 793, 796.
Confederation, 781.
Constant, B., 799.
Constitution of 1848, 795;
of 1874, 796.
Cotton manufacture, 779.
Counter Reformation,79l.
Crops, 779.
Crousaz, 798.
De Lnc 799.
Density of population,
778.
Education, 760.
Einsiedeln abbey, 783.
Emigration, 779.
English War, 784.
Everlasting League, 781,
789.
Exports, 780.
Federal council, 795.
Felix and Regula abbey,
781.
Finance, 780.
Fisheries, 77a
Fiihn, 777.
Foreign residents. 779.
Forest districts, 782.
Forests, 779.
Francis L of France, 789.
Frederick of Toggenburg,
785.
Freiburg, 788.
French Revolution, 793.
FrBhlich, 799.
Game, 777.
Geography, 776.
Gessner, 797.
Glaciers, 777.
Glarus, 783.
Golden League, 791.
Gotteshausbund, 789.
Gotthelf. 799.
Government, 795,
Granson, battle of, 787.
Gugler War, 784.
Haller, 797, 799.
Hapsburgs, 781.
Health resorts, 779.
Helvetic Republic, 793.
Henne, 799.
Hirzel. 798.
History, 781.
Houses, 779.
Imports, 780.
Independence, 788, 791.
Industries, 779.
Inn basin, 776.
Iron, 777.
Iselln, 798.
Italian acquisitions, 785,
789.
Kappel. peate of, 790.
Keller, 800.
Lakes, 776.
Lamberty, 799.
Landamman, 794.
Landsgemeinde, 782, 794.
Languages, 778, 781.
Laupen, battle of, 784.
Lavater, 798.
786.
League, Everlasting, 781,
789.
League of 1315, 782
Lemanic Republic, 793.
Leopold of Hapsburg. 7S3.
Leopold III., 764.
Leventina, Val, 785.
Libraries, 780.
Literature, 796.
Live stock, 778.
Louis XI. of France,
Lucerne, 783.
Mallet, 799.
Manufactures, 779.
Marriages, 778, 779.
Mediation, act of, 793.
Mei-miilod, 796.
Metals, 777.
Meyer-Merian. 799.
Milan contest. 789.
Milk industry, 779.
Minerals, 777.
Mineral springs, 779.
Moral, battle of. 7S7.
Morgarten, battles of,
793.
Mountains, 776.
Miiller, 798.
Murten, battle of, 787.
Niifels, battle .-^f, 784.
Napoleon I., 79...
NeuchSiel, 794, 795.
Novara, 789.
Ochs, 793.
Pact of 1815, 794.
Pai-sons' ordinance, 783.
Pasture lands, 779.
Patriciate, 792,
7»3.
Peasant Revolt, 792.
Pestalozzy, 798.
Po basin, 176.
Population, 778.
Post-office, 780.
Railways. 780.
Rainfall, 777.
Reber, 799.
Referendum, 790.
Refonnation, 790.
ReUgion, 779.
Revenue, 780.
Rhine, 776.
Rhone, 776.
Rivers, 776.
Roads, 780. v
Roebuck, 777. -.^
Rousseau, J. J., 798.
Rudolph iof 1^ Hapsburg,
782.
St Gall, -84.\^
St Gotthard tiinnel, 790.
St Jakob on tbe Bi>% 786.
Salis-Seewis, 798.
Salt, 777.
Saussure, 799.
Schaffhausen, 789.
Schools, 780.
Schwyz, 781-783.
Sempach. battle of, 784.
Sexes, proportion of, 778
Sigismund, 786.
Silk industry, 779.
Sismondi, 799.
Solothum, 788.
Sonderbund, 795.
Spas, 779.
Stanz, compact of, ~7S8.
Statistics, 778.
Storms, 777. V _
Stoss, battle of the, 785..
Sulzer, 798,
Surface, 776. ^.
Telegraphs, 780.
Tell, 781.
Tells, the three, 792.
Temperjiture, 777.
Ten Jurisdictions, 786.>
Thirty Years' War, 791.
Three Lands, the, 781.
Three Tells, the, 792.
Topffer, 799.
Toivns, 778, 779.
Tschudis, 797, 798.
Universities, 780.*
Unterwalden, 781, 78'-*,
Uri, 781, 782, 785. '
Usteri, 798.
Val Leventlda, 785.''
Valtelline, 791, 794.
Vaud, 793.
Vilhnergen War, 792.
Vinet, 799.
Visitors, foreign, 7S0.
Vital statistics, 778.
Wallis, 784, 793.
Watch-making, 779.
Waterfalls, 777.
Winds, 777.
Wood-carving, 779. ^
Wooden houses, 779.
Wyss, 799.
Zimmeimann, 798.^
Zug. 783.
Zurich, 783.
Zwingli, 790.1
SWORD. Origins and Early Forms. — The sword is a
hand-weapon of metal, distinct? from all missile weapons
on the one hand, and on the other hand from staff-weapons,
— the pike, bill, halberd, and the like, — in which the metal
head or blade occupies only a fraction of the effective
length. The handle of a sword provides a grip for the
hand that wields it, or sometimes for two hands ; it may
add protection, and in most patterns does so to a greater
or less extent. But it is altogether subordinate to the
blade. For want of a metal-headed lance or axe, which
indeed were of later invention, a sharpened pole or a thin-
edged paddle will serve the turn. A sword-handle vrithout
a blade is naught ; and no true sword-blade can be made
save of metal capable of taking an edge. There are so-
called swords of wood and even stone to be found in
collections of savage weapons. But these are really
flattened clubs ; and the present writer agrees with Gen.
Pitt-Kivers in not believing that such modifications of the
club have had any appreciable influence on the form or use
of true swords. On this last point, however, the opinions of
competent archaeologists are so much divided that it must
be regarded as fairly open. We will only remark that the
occurrence in objects of human handiwork of a form, or
even a series of forms, intermediate between two types is
not conclusive evidence that those forms are historical links
between the different types, or that there is any historical
(Connexion at all. In the absence of dates fixed by external
evidence this kind of comparison will seldom take us be-
yond plausible conjecture. A traveller who had never seen
velocipedes might naturally suppose, on a first inspection,
that the tricycle was a modification of the old four-wheeled
velocipede, and the bicycle a still later invention ; he would
perhaps regard the two-wheeled " Otto " as the historical
link between tricycles and bicycles. But we know that in
fact the order of development has been quite different.
It is more difficult as a matter of verbal definition to
distinguish the sword from smaller hand-weapons. Thus
an ordinary sword is four or five times as long as an
ordinary dagger : but there are long daggers and short
swords ; neither will the form of blade or handle afford any
certain test. The real difference lies in the intended use
of the weapon ; we associate the sword with open combat,
the dagger with a secret attack or the sudden defence
opposed to it. One might say that a weapon too large to
bu concealed about the person cannot be called a dagger.
Again, there are large knives, such as those used by the
Afridis and Afghans, which can be distinguished from
swords only by the greater breadth of the blade as com-
pared with its length. Again, there are special types of
arms, of which the yataghan is a good example, which in
their usual forms do not look much like swords, but in
others that occur must be classed as varieties of the sword,
unless we keep them separate by a more or less artificial
theory, referring the type as a whole to a different origin.
Of the actual origin of swords we have no direct
evidence. . Neither does the English word nor, so far as
a W O R D.
801
■We 'are -aware, any of the equivalent words in other
languages, Aryan or otherwise, throw any light on the
matter. We only know that swords are found from the
earliest times of which we have any record among all
people who have acquired any skill in metal-work. There
ore two very aucient types, which we may call the straight-
edged and the leaf-shaped. Assyrian monuments represent
a straight and narrow sword, apparently better fitted for
thrusting than cutting. Bronze swords of this form have
actually been found in Etruscan tombs, and by Dr Schlie-
mann at Mycenae, side by side with leaf-shaped specimens.
We have also from Mycenae some very curious and elab-
orately wrought blades, so broad and short that they
must be called ornamental daggers rather than swords.
The leaf-shaped blade is common everywhere among the
remains of men in the " Bronze Period " of civilization, and
i± IS
Fia 1. — 1-5, Greek sworda of the classical type (Gerhard's Oriechische Vascn-
bitder). 6-15, Roman swords fl'om LIndenschmIt, Ti-achi und Bewaffnting
des romischen Beeres udhrmd der Kaiserzeit, Brunswick, 1882, 6, So-called
"sword of Tiberius" from Mainz (Brit. Mus.); 7, Bonn (private collection),
length 765 mm.; 8, legionary (monument at Wiesbaden); 9, cavalry (monu-
ment at Mainz); 10, cavalry (monument at Worms) ; 12, 13, sword handles
(Kiel and Mainz); 11, 14, 16, from Trajan's column.
this was the shape used by the Greeks in historical times,
and is the shape familiar to us in Grask works of art. It
is impossible, however, to say whether the Homeric heroes
wore the leaf-shaped sword, as we see it, for example, on the
Mausoleum sculptures, or a narrow straight-edged blade of
the Assyrian-MyceuEean pattern. In any case, the sword
holds a quite inferior position with Greek warriors of aU
times. We have not the means of pronouncing which
pattern is the older. To a niodern eye the Assyrian or
Mycenaean sword looks fitter for thrusting than cutting.
The leaf-shaped sword, so far as we know from works of
art, was used with a downright cutting blow, regardless
of the consequent exposure of the swordsman's body; this,
however, matters little when defence is left to a shield or
armour, or both. The use of the sword as a weapon of
combined ofifence and defence — swordsmanship as we now
understand it — is quite modern. If the sword was de-
veloped from a spearhead or dagger, one would expect it
to have been a thrusting weapon before it was a cutting
one. But when we come to historical times we find that
the effective use of the point b a mark of advanced skill
and superior civilization. The Romans paid special atten-
tion to it, ahd Tacitus tells us how Agricola's legionaries
made short work of the clumsy and pointless arms of the
Britons when battle was fairly joined.* The tradition was
preserved at least as laie as the time of Vegetius, who, as
a technical writer, gives details of the Eoman soldier's
sword exercise. Asiatics to this day treat the sword
merely as a cutting weapon, and most Asiatic swords are
incapable of being handled in any other way.
Historical Types. — The normal types of swords which
we meet with in historical times, and from which all forms
now in use among civilized nations are derived, may be
broadly classified as straight-edged or curved. In the
straight-edged type, in itself a very ancient one, either
thrusting or cutting qualities may predominate, and the
blade may be double-edged or single-edged. The double-
edged form was prevalent in Europe down to the 17th
century. The single-edged blade, or backsword as it was
called in England, is well exemplified . in the Scottish
weapons commonly but improperly known as claymores,
and is now exclusively employed for military weapons.
But these, with few exceptions, have been more or less
influenced by the curved Oriental sabre. Among «arly
double-edged swords the Roman pattern stands out as a
workmanlike and formidable weapon for close fight ; the
point was used by preference. In the Middle Ages the
Roman tradition disappeared, and a new start was made
from the clumsy barbarian arm which the Romans had
despisecL Gradually the broad and all but pointless blade
was lightened atid tapered, and the thrust, although its
real power was unknown, was more or less practisecL St
Louis anticipated Napoleon in calling on his men to use
the point ; and the heroes of dismounted combats in the
Morie Darthur are described as " foining " at one another.
In the first half of the 16th century a well-proportione'd
and well-mounted cut-and-thrust sword was in general use,
and great artistic ingenuity was expended, for those who
could aflEord it, on the mounting and adornment. The
growth and variations of the diflferent parts of the hilt,
curiously resembling those of a living species, would alone
be matter enough for an archaeological study. One
peculiar foi'm, that of the Scottish basket-hilt, derived from
the Venetian pattern known as schiavone, has persisted to
our own day without material change.
Quite different from the European models is the crescent-
shaped Asiatic sabre, commonly called scimitar. We are
not acquainted with any distinct evidence as to the origin
of this in lime or place. The fame of the Damascus
manufacture of sword-blados is of great antiquity, as
is also that of KhorAsdn, still the centre of the best
Eastern work of this kind. Whoever first made these
blades had conceived a very definite idea, — that of gain-
ing a maximum of cutting power regardless of loss in
other qualities, — and executed it in a manner not to be
improved upon. The action of the curved edge in deliver-
ing a blow is to present an oblique and therefore highly
acute-anglod section of the blade to the object struck, so
that in effect the cut is given with a finer edge than could
safely 'oe put on the blade in its direct transverse section.
In a well-made sabre the setting of the blade with regard
to the handle (" leading forward ") is likewise ordered with
a view to this rosulk. And the cutting power of a weapon
so shaped and mounted is undoubtedly very great. But
' .Ijrrtc., 36: " Britannorura gUilii «ino raucrono complezuni or-
morum et in aperto puguom dod tolerabant."
XXII. — loi
802
S W O ii 13
the use of the point is abandoned, and the capacities of
defensive use (to which Orientals pay little or no atten-
tion) much diminished. These drawbacks have caused
the scimitar type, after being in fashion for European
light cavalry during the period of Napoleon's wars and
somewhat longer, to be discarded in our own time. But,
js long as Easterns adhere to their rigid grasp of a small
handle and sweeping cut delivered from the shoulder, the
Persian scimitar or Indian talwAr will remain the natural
iveapon of the Eastern horseman. Indian and Persian
swords are often richly adorned; but their appropriate
beauty is in the texture of the steel itself, the " damascen-
ing " or "watering' which distinguishes a superior from a
Ran7h?SfffJ7°f ("P'-odnced by pemUsion from Egertons Jllmlraled
pZf.^t^ i " "* M"f' P"'''"^''^'! !»■ ">e India Office, 1880). 1. 2. De'^raled
IT2; «'J="i'S''^" 'yPe; e, Persian taJwSrf 8, kukri (NepS)- T 9 10
Mahratta, shoivmg tiausition to gauntlet sword. , l^eii^u; , <, », lu,
common specimen. This process, long obscure to Euro-
peans, has m recent times been explained (see below)
There are special Asiatic varieties of curved blades of
which the origin is more or less uncertain. Amona these
the most remarkable is perhaps the yataghan, a weapon
pretty much coextensive -with the Mohammedan world,
though It IS reported to be not common ia Peraia. It has
been imported from Africa, tlirough a French imitation, as
the model of the sword-bayonets which have been common
tor about a generation in European armies ; probably the
French authorities caught at it to satisfy the sentiment
which lingered m Continental armies long after it had dis-
appeared m England, that even the infau'tiy soldier after
tM invention of the bayonet must have some kind of
sword. A compact and formidable hand-weapon has thus
been turned into a clumsy and top-heavy pike. If we try
to make a bayonet that wiU cut cabbages, we may or may
not get a useful chopper, but we shall certainly get a very
bad bayonet. The double curve of the yataghan is sub
stantiaUy identical with that of the Goorkha knife /kuin)
though the latter is so much broader as to be more like
a woodman's than a soldier's instrument. It b doubt-
ful, however, whether there is any historical connexion
Similar needs are often capable of giving rise to similar
inventions without imitation or communication There
are yet other varieties, belonging to widely spread families
of weapons which have acquired a strong individuality
buch are the swords of Japan, which are the highly per-
fected working out of a general Indo-Chinese type- they
are powerful weapons and often beautifuUy made but a
i-uropean swordsman would find them ill-balanced and
clumsy, and the Japanese style of sword-play certainly ha^
nothing to teach us. '^ ■> J
Other softs of weapons, again, are so peculiar in form oi
historical derivation, or both, as to refuse to be referred tc
any of the normal divisions. The long straight gauntlet-
hilted sword (pata) fou.nd both among the Mahrattas in
the south of India, and among the Sikhs and Rajputs in
the north, is an elongated form of the broad-bladed daoger
with a cross-bar handle (iatdr), as is shown by a transi-
tional form, much resembling in shape and size of blade
the meaiaeval English anlace, and furnished with a guard
for the back of the hand. This last-mentioned pattern
seems, however, to be limited to a comparatively small
region. When once the combination of a long blade with
the gauntlet hilt was arrived at, any straight blade mi<rht
be so mounted; and many appear on examination to°be
ot Jiuropean workmanship— German, Spanish, or Italian
ihere are various other Oriental arms, notably in the
Malay group, as to which it is not easy to say whether
they are properly swords or not. The JIalay " parang
Jatok is a kind of elongated chopper sharpened by bei"°
bevelled ofi to an edge on one side, and thus capable o1
cutting only in one direction. The anlace incidentaUy
mentioned above seems to be merely an overgrown da'^.rer •
the name occurs only in English and Welsh; in which
language first, or whence the name or thing came, is
unknown (see PhiloL Soc. Diet., s.v.).
Modem European Developments.— In the course of the
16 th century the straight two-edged sword of all work
was lengthened, narrowed, and more finely pointed, till it
became the Italian and Spanish raoier, a weapon still fur-
nished with cutting edges, but used chiefly for thrusting
We cannot say how far this transition v^as influenced
by the estoc, a medieval thrusting weapon carried by
horsemen rather as an auxiliary lance than as a swori
The Roman preference of the point was rediscovered under
new conditions, and fencing became an art. Its progress
was from pedantic compiicatioa to lucidity and simplicity,
ana the fashion of the weapon was simplified also. Early
in the 18th century, the use of the edge having been
finally abandoned in rapier-play, the two-edged blade was
supplanted by the bayonet-shaped French duelling sword,
on which no improvement has since been made except in
giving it a still simpler guard. The name of rapier is
often but wrongly given to this by English writers. About
the same time, or a little earlier, the primacy of the art
passed from Italy to France, and there it still remains. It
would take us too far to consider the history of fencing
here; Mr Egerton Castle's work will be found a trust-
worthy guide, and almost indispensable for thos& who wish
really to understand the passages relating to sword-play in
OUT Elizabethan literature, of which the fencing scene in
Hnralei is the most famous and obvioos example.
s
WORD
80^
Meanwhile a stouter and broader pattern, with sundry
minor varieties, continued in use for mUitary purposes, and
^-aduaUy the single-edged form or broadsword prevailed
The well-known name of Ferara, pecuUarly associated with
Scottish blades, appears to have originaUy belonged to a
Venetian maker, or famUy of makers towards the end of
the 16th century. The Spamsh blades made at Toledo
had by that time acquired a renown which stiU continues
Somewhat later Oriental example, imported Probably by
wav of Hungary, induced the curvature found in most
r^nt military sabres, which, however, is now keot witmn
F«. S -Typical European swords, 16th-18th 'f'^'f^,^'?"^^^^^i^Zly
'^ionVrL MrEg?rtcn Cf l«;»/'*^»^»/^'2^j,f-^^riiSr'\6th cent.';
16th cent.; 2, (Jerman c. 1550 ; 3 ItaUan rapi^^ tni il j. ,1^^ ^^^^
4, Spanish rapier, lato 16th «'"•:'■"''''?"•_ "[J^h ?ent ■ 8, SpaLh broad-
feri'od ; ■''^';!;^^\^^^%''^-^ll,:^:^';. i"o ; 10, ItaSn.'la^ Wth cent.: 11.
Sorg, eirly 17th cent ; 14, IS, small-awordis 170O-1760.
such bounds as not to interfere with the effective use of
the point. An eccentric speciaUzed variety-we may call
it a "sport "-of the iabre is the narrow and flexib e
"achlager" with which German students fight their duels
(for the most part not arising out of any quarrel, but set
trials of skill), under highly conventional rules almost
dentical with those of the old English "backswording
practised within Uving memory, in which, however, the
swords were represented by sticks. These ' schlage
duds cause much effu.oiou of blood, but not often seriouB
danger to life or limb.
There are plenty of modem books on sabre-pUy, but
comparatively little attention has ^fn given to its scien-
tmTtreatment. It is said that the Itahan school is better
than the French, and the modem German and Austrian the
best of all Some of the EngUsh cavalry regimen s have
g od tradLns, enriched of late years ^^/^^ j^P?"^^^^^^^^^^
of a knowledge of fencing derived from eminent French
masters.
The Manufacture of 5wrds. -Mechanical invention ha3 oot
Lmtr:d^"eft^5Hngfro^ti centre to the^^^^^^^^
is cut in two, each half is made into a sword. The tang wmeii
of° thTpo^t H rs a 1 ha^mer-and-anvil wor^ Special tools are
*"The best Eastern blades are justly. <=''\ff^^^^;,'J'!'^::, "a?e
better than the best European ones ; m f»„f'/F°Sern fashion
often met with, in AsiaUc l^^^I^^; ."^.l^sVperlrn and^^^^^^^^^^
•ihe "damascening" or " ^^^tejrag of choice ^ersian
The foUowing list of work, 1, 'ntended^to s«lde '^>.o -dor- /^^^^.''v'mf" t U
j^oJ!^w:^5^^^^£S3S.i^Seirss-:
Sr: STllVS^Jf SSS&ant ^d";^n%^^.:
ScMUn Wtaponz, Edinburgh and 1^"*°°' "?'■ j?" " k, I^wllt, Lacomb.-.
and handbooks on anns and "^^f. »"'='' "j,^[°^' „it'a,wiy» '« ^ '™«""' *"
Dcmmin, may be <»"«>'"«d ^ h adrantage, bat «. no^^ ^ ^^ ^^^ g^^,,
details. "The Forms and HUto^ of the hwoid. m /^ > j,y„„„„
Institution, 1883. by the present writer, gives Inrtncr «■>.
iriouspoints. _. ^ ., <!,t.,^t,,md MtnUrilf Faict fromtl\f MM"
Ages to thr FArihUtnth Century. l^"*»°'Jfif„*'".fSrfi., Twis, 18*-': Uom.rJ
(a"umcd nameotrosseUier) rA«rv ' r£«r.,.J.i -.
istoricnl Inlro-
Dumu);
h«t. treatises on tl;o •^''-'''"''l-JX-Wn.ro lock and F. Crn,Uunl .ro^^^^
;;^";!;t!ralde?&r.^'.°".w:r.:j:^^-. » ^o.^^. -^ <>.-' -■»"••
''TZlw.-Wilkln,on A >7(,.« o/ «.-. l-ondo^^^^^^^
1880.
804
SWORD-FISH
SWORD-FISH ~ Sword-fishes are a small family of
spiny-rayed fishes (Xiphiidm), the principal characteristic
of •which consists in the prolongation of the upper jaw
into a long pointed sword-like weapon. The "sword"
is formed by the coalescence of the intermaxillary and
maxillary bones, which possess an extremely hard texture ;
it has the shape of a much elongate cone, more or less
flattened throughout its whole length ; the end is sharply
pointed. It is smooth above and on the upper part of the
rBidea, and rough below owing to the presence of innumer-
'able rudimentary teeth, which have no function.
The general form of the body is well proportioned,
somewhat elongate, and such as is always found in fishes
with great power of ufUM//lU'
swimming, as, for in- n!W/d'Fr/T:i
stance, in the mackerel
and tunny, and the tail
.. ^ . /■ 1 1 • -*. Sword -Fish
terminates in a powerful bi- %. ^Hisiiophorus pul-
lobed caudal fin. A long fin ^ - chdlus).
occupies nearly the whole length of the back, whilst the
anal fin is generally interrupted in the middle, and conse-
quently appears to be double. The skin is very firm, partly
naked, partly with small lanceolate scales deeply imbedded
in the skin. The teeth of the lower jaw are, like those of
the upper, merely rudimentary structures, " which render
the surface of the bone rough without possessing any
special function. . ^
Sword-fishes have been divided into three generic
groups : —
a. Histiophorus, with a tigh dorsal fin ■which can be spread out
like a sail, and with ventral fins which are reduced to a pair of
long stylifonn appendages.
b. Telraptunis, with a dorsal fin of which the anterior raj^ only
are elongate, the remainder of the fin being low or partly obsolete,
and with stylifonn veetral fins as in the preceding genus.
c. Xiphias, with the dorsal lin shaped as in Tetrapturus, tut
without ventral fins.
Sword-fishes are truly pelagic fishes, which either singly
or in pairs or in smaller or larger companies roam over the
oceans of the tropical and subtropical zones of both hemi-
spheres. Some species wander regularly or stray far into
the temperate seas. Some of the tropical forms are the
largest of Acanthopterygian fishes, and not exceeded in size
by any other Teleostean ; such species attain to a length of
from 12 to 15 feet, and swords have been preserved more
than 3 feet long and with a diameter of at least 3 inches
at the base. The Sistiophori, which inhabit chiefly the
Indo-Pacific Ocean, but occur also in the Atlantic, seem to
possess in their high dorsal fin an additional aid for loco-
motion. During the rapid movements of the fish this fin
is folded downwards on the back, as it would impede the
velocity of progress by the resistance it offers to the water;
but, when the fish is swimming in a leisurely way, it is
frequently seen with the fin erected and projecting out of
the water, and when quietly floating on the surface it
can sail by the aid of the fin before the wind, like a boat.
The food of the sword-fishes is the same as that of
tunnies, and consists of smaller fish, and probably also in
great measure of pelagic cuttle-fishes. It has been ascer-
tained by actual observation that sword-fishes procure their
food by dashing into a school of fishes, piercing and kill-
ing a number of them with their swords ; and this kind of
weapon would seem to be also particularly serviceable in
killing large cuttle-fish, like the saw of saw-fishes, which is
used for the same purpose. But the swords of the large
species of Histiophorus and Tetrapturus are, besides, most
formidable weapons of aggression. These fishes never hesi-
tate to attack whales and other large cetaceans, and, by
repeatedly stabbing them, generally retire from the combat
victorious. That they combine in these attacks with the
thresher-shark is an often-repeated story which has its
foundation in the imagination of the observer, and which
is fuUy disproved by the fact that the dentition of the
thresher-shark is much too weak to make an impression on
the skin of any cetacean. The cause which excites sword-
fishes to such attacks is unknown ; but they foUow the in'
stinct so blindly that they not rarely assail boats and ship?
in a similar manner, evidently mistaking them for ceta-
ceans. They easily pierce the light canoes of the natives
of the Pacific islands and the heavier boats of the pro-
fessional sword-fish fishermen, often dangerously woundicg
the persons sitting in them. Attacks by sword-fishes on
ocean-going ships are so common as vo be included among
sea-risks : they are known to have driven their weapon
through copper-sheathing, oak-plank, and timber to a
depth of nearly 10 inches, part of the sword projecting
into the inside of the ship; and the force required to pro-
duce such an efiect has been described by Prof. Owen in a
court of law as equal to " the accumulated force of fifteen
double-handed hammers," and the velocity as "equal to
that of a swivel-shot," and "as dangerous in its effects
as a heavy artillery projectile." Among the. specimens of
planking pierced by sword-fishes which are preserved in
the British Museum there is one less than a foot square
which encloses the broken ends of three swords, as if the
fishes had had the object of concentrating their attack on
the same vulnerable point of their supposed enemy. The
part of the sword which penetrates a ship's side is almost
always' broken off and remains in the wood, as the fish is
unable to execute sufficiently powerful backward move-
ments to free itself by extracting the sword.
In the Mediterranean and on the Atlantic coasts of the
United States the capture of sword-fishes forms a regular
branch of the fishing-industry. The object of the fishery
in the Mediterranean is the common European sword-fish
(Xiphias gladius), the average weight of which is about
one cwt., and which is abundant off the Sicilian coasts and
on the opposite coast of Calabria. Two methods are em-
ployed,— that by harpoons, chiefly used for larger fish, and
that by peculiarly constructed nets ca,\\ed palamiiare. This
fishery is very productive : a company of fishermen fre-
quently capture from twenty to fifty fish in a single day,
and the average annual catch in SicOy and Calabria is
reported to be 140,000 kilogrammes (138 tons). The
products of the fishery are consumed principally in a fresh
state, but a portion is preserved in salt or oil. The flesh
of the sword-fish is much preferred to that of the tunny,
and always commands a high price. ThiS species is occa-
sionally captured on the British coast. ^
-On the coast of the United States a different species,
Histiophorus' gladius, occurs ; it is a larger fish than the
Mediterranean sword-fish, attaining to a length of from
7 to 12. feet, and an average weight of 300 or 400 lb.
It is captured only by the use of the harpoon. From
forty to fifty vessels, schooners of some 60 tons, are
annually engaged in this fishery, with an aggregate catch
amounting annually to about 3400 sword-fishes, of a value
of $45,000. The flesh of this species is inferior in flavour
to that of the Mediterranean Epecies,_ and is principally
consumed after having been preserved in salt or brine.
Useful and detailed information on the sword-fish fishery can be
obtained from A. T. Tozzetti, "La Pesca nei Mari d'ltalia e la
Pesca all' Estero esercitata da Italiani," in Catalogo Esposizione
InUmazionale di Pesca in Berlino, 1880; also from La Pesca del
Pesce-Spada nello Strctto di Messina (Messina, 1880), and from
G Brown Goode, "Materials for a History of the Sword;fish, in
Pepcn-t of the Commissioner of Fish and Fisheries, part vm.,
•Washington, 1883. '* '^ " *
(A. C. G.)
S Y B — S Y D
805
SYBAEIS, a city of Magna Graecia, on tne Gulf of
farentum, between the rivers Crathis (Crati) and Sybaris
(CoscHe), which now meet 3 miles from the sea, but anciently
had independent mouths, was the oldest Greek colony
in this region. It was an Achsean colony founded by
Isu3 of Helice (720 B.C.), but had among its settlers many
Troezenians, who were ultimately expelled. Placed in a
very fertile, though now most unhealthy, region, and fol-
lowing a liberal policy in the admission of citizens from all
quarters, the city became great and opulent, with a vast
subject territory and divers daughter colonies even on the
Tyrrhenian Sea (Posidonia, Laus, Scidrus). For magnifi-
cence and luxury the Sybarites were proverbial throughout
Greece, and in the 6th century probably no Hellenic city
could compare with its wealth and splendour. At length
contests between the democrats and oligarchs, in which
many of the latter were expelled and took refuge at
Crotona, led to a war with that city, and the Crotoniats
with very inferior forces were completely victorious. They
razed Sybaris to the ground and turned the waters of
Crathis to flow over its ruins (510 B.C.). Explorations
undertaken by the Italian Government in 1879 have failed
to lead to a precise knowledge of the site.
See Academy, vol. xvi p. 73 (24th January 1880); Lenormant,
La Oraiide-GTice (1881), u 325 sj. ; and Thubii.
SYCAMORE. See Fig, vol. is. p. 154, and Maple,
vol. XV. p. 524.
SYDENHAM, a suburb of London, in the county of
Kent, is finely situated chiefly on elevated ground about
7 miles south of Charing Cross, London. There is rail-
way communication by the London, Brighton, and South
Coast, the Mid Kent branch of the South-Eastem, and the
London, Chatham, and Dover lines. Formerly Sydenham
was a small hamlet of Lewisham, which rose into favour
from its sylvan beauty, its pleasant situation, and its
medicinal waters. These springs were discovered in 1640
on Sydenham common. The quality of the water re-
sembled that of Epsom, and was regarded as efficacious
in scorbutic and paralytic affections. After the construc-
tion of a railway the suburb grew into high repute as a
residence, especially for the wealthier commercial and pro-
fessional classes. The construction of the Crystal Palace
(see LojfDON, vol. xiv. p. 836) in 1854 greatly aided the
prosperity of Sydenham, although the building is not
within its boundaries. There is a public lecture hall and
literary institute at Sydenham Hill, and a school of art,
science, and literature in connexion with the Crystal
Palace. The charitable institutions include a home and
infirmary for sick children and the South London dispen-
sary for women. The population of the township (area,
1623 acres) was 19,065 in 1871, and 26,076 in 1881.
SYDENHAM, Thomas (1624-1689), "the EngUsh
Hippocrates," was born at Winford Eagle in Dorset in
1624, where his father was a gentleman of property and
good pedigree. At the ago of eighteen he was entered at
Magdalen Hall, Oxford ; after two years his college studies
appear to have been interrupted, and he served for a time
as aft officer in the army of tho Parliament. He completed
his Oxford course in 1648, graduating as bachelor of medi-
cine, and about the same time he was elected a fellow of
'All Souls College. It was not until nearly thirty years
later (1676) that ho graduated as M.D., not at Oxford,
but at Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, where his eldest son
was then an undergraduate. His interest in medicine
seems to have been aroused at an early age. Nothing is
known of Sydenham's life between 1048 and 1663; but
it ia probable that he spent part of tho time at O.xford.
•It is said also (on the authority of one Desault, in a work
'published at Bordeaux in 1733) that he studied at Mont-
pellier, although it Ls not BO stated by himself in his
dedicatoiy letter to Dr Mapletoft, among the other aato-
biographical facts there given. In 1663 he passed the
examinations of the College of Physicians for their licence
to practise in Westminster and 6 miles round ; but it is
probable that he had been settled in London for some
time before that. This minimum qualification to practise
was the single bond between Sydenham and the College
of Physicians throughout the whole of his career. He ,
seems to have been distrusted by the heads of the faculty
because he was an innovator and something of a plain-
dealer. In his letter to Mapletoft he refers to a class of
detractors " qui vitio statim vertunt si quis novi aliquid,
ab LUis non prius dictum vel etiam inauditum, in medium
proferat "; and in a letter to Robert Boyle, written the
year before his death (and the only authentic specimen of
his English composition that remains), he says, " I have
the happiness of curing my patients, at least of having it
said concerning me that few miscarry under me ; but [I]
cannot brag of my correspondency with some other of my
faculty. . . . Though yet, in taking fire at my attempts
to reduce practice to a greater easiness, plainness, and in
the meantime letting the mountebank at Charing Cross
pass unrailed at, they contradict themselves, and would
make the world believe I may prove more considerable
than they would have me." Sydenham attracted to him
in warm friendship some of the most discriminating men
of his time, such as John Locke and Robert Boyle. Hi.i
first book, Metkodus Curaiidi Fehres,vias published in 1666;
a second edition, with an additional chapter on the plague,
in 1668 ; and a third edition, much enlarged and bearing
the better-known title of Observationes Mediae, in 1676.
His next publication was in 1680 in the form of two
Epistolx Responsorix, the one, "On Epidemics," addressed
to Brady, regius professor of physic at Cambridge, and
the other, " On the Lues Venerea," to Paman, public orator
at Cambridge and Gresham professor in London. In 1682
he issued another Dissertatio Epistolaris, on the treatment
of confluent smallpox and on hysteria, addressed to Dr
Cole of Worcester. The Tractatus de Podagra el Ilydrope
came out in 1683, and the Schedula Monitoria de Novx
Febris Ingressu in 1686. His last completed work, Pro-
cessus Integri, is an outline sketch of pathology and pras
ties; twenty copies of it were printed in 1692, and, being
a compendium, it has been more often republished both at
home and abroad than any other of hi.s writings separately.
A fragment on pulmonary con.sumption was found among
his papers. His collected writings occupy about 600 pages
8vo in the original Latin.
Hardly anything is known of Sydenham's personal
history in London. He died in an acute paroxysm of
gout in December 1689. He was buried in the church of
St James's, Piccadilly, where a mural slab was put up by
the College of Physicians in 1810.
Although Sydenham was a highly successful practitioner and
saw more than one now edition of his various tiactatos called for,
hcsidcs foreign reprints, in his lifetime, his fam 3 as the father of
English medicine, or tho English Hippocratts, was decidedly
posthumous. For a long time he was held in vague esteem for the
success of his cooling (or rather expectant) treatment of sm.allpoi,
for his laudanum (tho first form of a tincture of opium\ and for his
advocacy of tho use of Peruvian hark in quartan agues. Thero
were, however, those among his contemporaries who understoiJ
something of Sydoniiam's importance in larger matters than detfcil.i
of treatment and pharmacy, chief among tliem being tho talculcd
Morton. But tho attitude of tho academical medicine of the tl.^y
is doubtless shown forth in Lister's use of tho term "tAH-tarioa for
Sydenham and his admirers, at a time (1C91) when the K'a.ler iiad
been dead five years. If there were any doult that the ppposiiioQ
to him was quite other than political, it would bo sut at rest by
tho testimony of. Dr Andrew Brown,' who went fron- Scotlana to
inquire into Sydenham's practice, and bis incidca Icily roveileH
' Sco Dr John Brown's Ilorm Subucivm, ui, "Or Aolrow BrovOi
and Sydonbam. "
806
S Y D — S Y D
what Tvas commonly thought of it at the time, in his Vindicalory
Schedule concerning the New Cure of Fevers. In the series of
Harveian orations at the College of Physicians, Sydenham is first
mentioned in the oration of Arbuthnot (1727), who styles him
"ffimulus Hippocratis." Boerhaave the Leyden professor, was
wont to speak of him in his class (which had always some pupils
from England and Scotland) as "i\ngli8e lumen, artis Phcebum,
veram Hippocratici viri speciem." Haller also marked one of the
epochs in his scheme of medical progress with the name of Syden-
ham. He is indeed famous because he inaugurated a new method
and a better ethics of practice, the worth and diffusive influence of
which did not become obvious (except to those who were on the same
line with himself, such as Morton) until a good many years after-
wards. It remains to consider briefly what his innovations were.
First and foremost he did the best he could for his patients, and
made as little as possible of the mysteries and traditional dogmas
of the craft. All the stories told of him are characteristic Called
to a gentleman who had been subjected to the lowering treatment,
and finding him in a pitiful state of hysterical upset, he " conceived
that this was occasioned partly \iy his long illness, partly by the
previous evacuations, and partly by emptiness. I therefore ordered
him a roast chicken and a pint of canary." A gentleman of
fortune who was a victim to hypochondria was at length told
by Sydenham that he could do no more for him, but that there
was living at Inverness a certain Dr Robertson who had great
skill in cases like his ; the patient journeyed to Inverness full of
hope, and, finding no doctor of the name there, came back to London
full of rage, but cured withal of his complaint. Of a piece with
this is his famous advice to Blackmore. When Blackmore first
engaged in the stndy of physic he inquired of Dr Sydenham what
authors he should read, and was directed by that physician to
Don, Quixote, "which," said he, "is a very good book; I read it
still." There were cases, he tells us, in his practice where " I liave
consulted my patient's safety and my own reputation most effectu-
ally by doing nothing at all." It was in the treatment of small-
pox that his startling innovations in that direction made most stir.
It would be a mistake, however, to suppose that Sydenham wrote
no long prescriptions, after the fashion of the time, or was entirely
free from theoretical bias. Doctrines of disease he had, as every
practitioner must have ; but he was too much alive to the multi-
plicity of new facts and to the infinite variety of individual con-
stitutions to aim at symmetry in his theoretical views or at con-
sistency between his practice and his doctrines; and his treatment
was what he found to answer best, whether it were secundum artem
or not. His fundamental idea was to take diseases as they pre-
sented themselves in nature and to draw up a complete picture
("krankheitsbild" of the Germans) of the objective characters of
each. Jlost forms of ill-health, he insisted, had a definite type,
comparable to the types of animal and vegetable species. The con-
formity of type in the symptoms and course of a malady was duo
to the uniformity of the cause. The causes that he dwelt upon
were the "evident and conjunct causes," or, in other words, the
morbid phenomena ; the remote canses he thought it vain to seek
after. Acute diseases, such as fevers and inflammations, he regarded
as a wholesome consfervative efl'ort or reaction of the organism to
meet the blow of some injurious influence operating from without •
^ this he followed the Hippocratic teaching closely as well as the
Hippocratic practice of watching and aiding the natural crises.
Chronic diseases, on the other hand, were a depraved state of the
humours mostly due to errors of diet and general manner of life
for which we ourselves were directly accountable. Hence his
famous dictum : " acutos dico, qui ut pluriraum Deum habent
autliorem, sicut chronici ipsos nos." Sydenham's nosological
method is essentially the modern one, except that it wanted the
morbid anatomy part, which was first introduced into the " natural
history of disease " by Morgagni nearly a century later. In both
departments of nosology, the acute and the chronic, Sydenham
contributed largely to the natural history by his own accurate ob-
servation and phUosophical comparison of case with case and type
with type. The Observationes Medicss and the first Epistola Respon-
sona contain evidence of a close study of the various fevers, fluxes,
and other acute maladies of London over a series of years, their
differences from year to year and from season to season, together
with references to the prevailing weather,— the whole body of ob-
servations being used to illustrate the doctrine of the "epidemic
constitution '_ of the year or season, which he considered to depend
often upon inscrutable teUuric canses. The type of the acute
disease yaiied, he found, according to the year and season, and
the right treatment could not be adopted until the type was known.
There had been nothing quite like this in medical literature since
the Hippocratic treatise, Wapi d^pwi/, IUtuv, rhtrav ; and there are
probably some germs of truth in it still undeveloped, althou<rh the
modern science of epidemiology has introduced a whole new set of
considerations. Among other things Sydenham is credited with
ine first diagnosis of scarlatina and with the modern definition of
Chorea (in Sched. Monit.). After smallpox, the diseases to which
Be refers most are hysteria and gout, his description of the latter
(i;rom the symptoms in his own person) being one of the classical
pieces of medical -.vTiting. WhUe Sydenham's "natural history "
method has doubtless been the chief ground of his great post-
humous fame, there can be no question that another reason for the
adjniration of posterity was that which is indicated by K. G
Latham, when he says, "I believe that the moral element of a
Jiberal and candid spirit went hand in hand with the intellectual
qiiaJifacations of observation, analysis, and comparison "
The most criticaf biography is that by Dr R. G. litham creliea to hi*
R?^w="?Pt°' i^^'^'","!"? ^"^.P- ™I5-. London. 1848, Byd^eT Dr John
Brown a " Locke and Sydenham," in Horm Subsecivse, EdinburKh 1S58 is more
SsheS Tw"?],",' 't'"^\ **,' \^ r""\H'^ ^''"'™= "' >"» worKave been ?aT
fLondon l^i Ivi"^'.,' '„'5°^'"'' ';='?^'i"'°°'- Dr W. A. GrcenhiU's Latin tert
fo»^^r,;,„l • ^i ^°"=-> '^* "J"!'' "f editing and indering. There have been
;^!^„^'V,™'""'P'aphs on Sydenham by Goeden (Berlin, ll2n Rovers mort
IMS). F. Jahn(E,senach, 1840), and Hvasser (Upsala7^846)r'Th" mo?t^°to^:
tion to the 3a ed. of Observationes Medi^cx (1676). (C C )
SYDNEY, the capital of New South Wales, and the
oldest city in Australia, is situated on tho east coast of
that island-continent in 33° 51' 41" S. lat. and 151° 12'
■23"-25 (lOh. 4m. 49-55s.) E. long. It lies on the southern
shore of the magnificent harbour of Port Jackson, which
in 1770 was named, though not discovered, by Captain
Cooi:. He anchored and landed in Botany Bay, about 6
miles to the south, and on afterwards coasting to the
north noted what looked like an inlet, to which he gave the
name of Port Jackson, after Sir George Jackson, one of the
secretaries to the admiralty. It may seem strange that
so careful an observer as Cook should have passed close
to one of the finest harbours in the world without recog-
nizing its capacity; but the cliffs which gua'd the entrance
are 300 feet in height, and no view of the landlocked basin
can be seen from the masthead. Middle Head, which is
posted right opposite the entrance, cbses it in, and it is
necessary to enter, turn to the south, and then to the west
before the_ best part of the harbour discloses itself. This
topographical peculiarity gives to the port its great shelter.
When in 1788 Captain Phillip arrived at Botany Bay with
the first convict fleet, he found its shallow waters and flat
shores unsuited for the purposes of a settlement. Strangely
enough he was also deterred by the want of water ; yet It
is on that very shore that the pumping-engine is situated
by which Sydney has been supplied for many years. Going
northwards, he turned in to examine Port Jackson inlet
Thither tho fleet wac instantly removed ; and Sydney was
founded, and Australian colonisation started, on 26th
January 1788. Captain Phillip's choice of a site was de-
termined by the existence of fresh, water in a small stre&irt
running into Sydney Cove.
———^ ■ — : — '-''1 ^"
Fia. 1. — Harbour and environs of Sydney,
The port is flanked on both sides by a number of pro-
montories— its characteristic feature — so that in addition
to a broad central channel with deep water there is both
on the north and the south side a series of sheltered bays
with good anchorage. The entrance is a mile wide, with
a minimum depth of 15 fathoms. Some little distance
inside is a rock awash, known as the Sow and Kgs,
between which and the nearest headlands on either side
is an inner bar, with 20 feet of water at low tide ; through
this bar on the southern side a ship channel has been
.dredged giving 27 feet of water at neap tide. On the
southern side there occur in succession Watson's Bay, Rost
SYDNEY'
807
Bay, Double Bay, Eushcutter's Bay, W'oolloomooloo Bay,
Farm Cove, Sydney Cove, Darling Harboiir, Johnstone's
Bay, Blackwattle Bay, Iron Cove, Five Dock Bay, Hen
and Clxickens Bay, besides smaller inlets. On the north-
em side, beginning again at the Heads, there are North
Harbour, Middle Harbour (with many subsidiary inlets).
Chowder Bay, Sirius Cove, Mossman's Bay, Shell Cove,
Neutral Bay, Careening Cove, Lavender Bay, Berry's
Bay, Ball's Head Bay, Lane Cove, Tarban Creek, and
other small bays. All these promontories and coves give
a length of water frontage which is estimated at not less
tian 110 miles. Besides these. Botany Bay, though shal-
low and exposed and destitute of promontories, has a coast-
line of about 1 8 miles. Into it debouches George's river,
which is navigable to Liverpool, a distance of 14 miles
from the mouth, and in which are several capacious bays.
The metropolitan area of Sydney really consists of a
peninsula about 13 miles in length, lying between Parra-
matta and George's rivers. The sea frontage of tlus area,
from the South Head of Port Jackson to the North Head
of Botany Bay, is 12 miles in length, and consists alter-
nately of bold cliffs and beautiful beaches. Two of the
latter — Bondi and Coogee — are connected with the ctly
by tramways, and are favourite places of holiday resort.
Sydney occupies, therefore, a positiou enjoying singular
natural advantages.
The city proper, as subsequently determined, takes in
the water frontage from the head of Eushcutter's Bay on
Fig. 2.— Map of Svdney
the east to the head of Blackwattle Bay on the west,
giving a shore-line of 8 miles, of which 1| are the frontage
of the Domain and Botanic Gardens. The remainder is
occupied for commercial purposes, and ia held partly by
the Government and partly by private O'lvners. There
are three largo public wharfs — one, known as Circular
Quay, embracing the greater part of Sydney Cove, seven-
eighths of a mile in length, the second at the head of
Darling Harbour, a quarter of a mile in extent, and the
third at the Lead of WooUoomooloo Bay. The rest is
occupied by private wharfs, the principal of which are on
the east shore of Darling Harbour. A project is on foot
for the resumption of the whole by the Government, and
the making of a uniform quay, witli a railway and a new
street. The area of the city is 2070 acres, of which no
jfejt is more than a mile and a quarter distant from the
water, whilst the average distance is three-quarters of a
mile. The surface contour is undulating, the maximum
elevation being 230 feet and the average 120. The soil
is sandstone, covered more or less with shaly clay. Of tho
city area about 800 acres are devoted to public use. Thd
largest reserve is Moore Park, lying to the south-east of
the city, nearly 500 acres in extent — originally a waste o^
sandhills. On it are the rifle range, tho Agricultural
Society's showground, and tho principal cricket ground.
The Inner and Outer Domains on tho shore of tho
harbour contain about 130 acres. Tho former contains
Government House, with its private garden and paddocks;
the Outer Domain is a public parL The beautiful
botanic gardens occupy tho shore- line of Farm Cove,
commanding the man-of-war anchorage. Hyde Park,
the original race-course of tho city, is about ■lO acres in
extent. At the north entrance is a statue of Prince Albert,
and on its most elevated part is one of Captain Cook.
Prince Alfred Park, on the southern boundary of the
city, originally called Cleveland Paddocks, oeeu^es nearly
80S
of acropplia. two of its rocky Sll SL/e'Td '^ H^
at an elevation of 146 feet stnnH.. t^! . ^ • , ^'
area^lyi/g bet^eerDarW HarbTur'li?rtT!' 'A'" ^^ t^« limited
Park. The streets are im^ar i, ^hA. ^' ?T^'° ^"^ %de
close together, while thXiTg I'^'t^ Darl n ^ H "h™ V""
a steep incline. Sydney has ron^fnno!, m •^^'^'"'g Harbour haye
WorlJl city than another LaXh ^ 'T" '>/°°'' °f ^° OW-
promenad^ and open squ^es " a ' "' ^"'^ "", '^ \^'^ °^ 'V^'^ons
tnnity for displaying iL^p^bUcbuiFdtn' "^f ™*"! P°°^ °PP°^-
ably with the more s™me?ricallvnl,^„f'-'** '=°°*-''^'^ unfayour-
On the other hand.^C a charm wM r'"^!*'-''?^^'^'^»^»-
glimpses of the harbour an /t)f.„^^ ^ '"'i. '^. ^" ''^ O'^. =3 the
SYDNEY
poi^t7^;e rde%htM%\lrtftr"^ "^'^^^^'^ ^' .
business street is George St" e^ o mil., f '* ^'«^\ 7^' P^^'="'P^J
some commercial buildings In thki^i?^' ^^^^'^ ^^^ 1>^°<1.
town-hall, the cathedra] and thTt^'' T *^' Po^t'Office. the
secondinimportanceisPitrsVi} J?-? "'"'"^^ ''*"™- Oilj
it as far as th'^ railway stelion^ ^^"^ "^ nearly parallel with
tiyItOa?c\1tS!: buf ttf a?I rS'd°^^ "^ '"^ P^'"^'
office, all the non ecclesiasticaatubUc llfj^' "gistrar-generar^
Style. Of the modern pubTc build n^f^^'"®' "'."^ ^ '^'""<=al
the offices for the coloH secreW^fh. ^■"'•"'f ""?• ^^' Po^t'Office.
and the minister for knds and th« ^n f 'l*'" '^"^ P"''''= ^"^s
•The town-hall is a fine buoCg bu? a li'ttT't °" fl '•'; '^t ^'''■
hall, when finished, will be Z^lar.l in A n.f r """ij *''^ ^^''t
cathedral in George Street is sm»l? a p '''^'*- ^^^ Anglican
on the east side ?f HVde Park renli^ °""' S"*""" <^i^^^^.
burnt down, and will wLncomnI?tlTl^*v'^^''''" ""^ *•>*' ^^3
edifice in the city. ThTmfn?rn^,H f '. ^*- *« ^^^st ecclesiastical
an imperial estXlishmenT ?hi ?otf ?f *!°\°^-^/''^ ''°=Pit^') '^
colonists. TheannuaryalueofthecoinL^ft''' f <'f ^y^d by the
i;50O,G0O. and this coinage has i^MT^^^ "^ '°'^ ^"'"^ " '''^°"t
public buildings are:^\Cted""o?Tyd:rsa3- toti' *\^- 1"^^
Thl'e^'rTeositltd^^^^d^b'ufwtd^^^^ '' ^"'"^^ 'O" -"-
much into favour. The Syards f^r ct Fr""^. ^1f ^^^'^y^ome
acres) are 7 miles off, at Homebush ThT ^"l^^eep (area 40
all sources is about £376 Soo For J, •^°',' "*^ '''^'^""^ ^''''m
is diyided into eight war'r each if. "'"P?i P'^P"^^^ ^^^ "'J'
for parUamentary purposes into thrP^w^ **''"" aldermen, and
sputUach retu^rn'Ing^S memb^^r In m\' V'V^"'' ^°<^
tiou was 105,000. It was in ISSfi !.«' • it • "^ "'y POpula-
The population of the suburbs w,"®^""^'*'""*''' ^' l^sfoOO.
ISO.OOofmakinga total metronoHSn^'"^^-''"?'*''^ '° "«* ^t
munication with the suburbs'^fs mainS't" °^^^^■°°"• ^om-
Bteam tramways, entirely in the h?„^=-?!v *"^* '"g^ ^^'«°' ty
whole district between IjZey and Par™n,^'. ^.<'^<^"">^°t- The
urban for 2 miles on each side of tbf^?""^ >3 practically sub-
suburbs lie to the east of Sydney the busfne?^- . ^^^ ''^»'^'°°^ble
being more to the westward %„ business extension of the city
to nranufactnring Tpe atione and non Vl? ''^^ '' ^"^^^y ^'^°i^i
In the direction of B^ny Ba'y Tb °P ',1^'''; « >-»Pid!y extending
outside the city limits and tY; J^ ^^ ?''°™ "^ ^^^ ^larbour &
The north shore h™ de'ep wlterXe S?b"**'r '?■ ^^ '''"^ ''"^'^■
the land rising ranidly rateTelati ro'°3ob'ee^"'{r!r:^'^''"''''i
the Goyernment ias constructed a c;.h « f. ■ ^P ^^^ ascent
raUway between Newcastirand^L ^F^'^^^^7,-md from the
maua riyer 2 miles bllow the heafofZ' "^"P^ S'°'''' *^^ P«^^-
a branch line of railway To the north .1 "^^'S^t'."". there is to be
are situated within its bonudarie^ p,,T'I;°°- • ^'''"''^ ^'^<^^^
by the better classes, and posse^t, ^^^'^'"Ston^ inhabited chiefly
schools. A munici^rconst ut^n , """'^^^"f P^^'i^ and private
depopulation of th^b„:oSglrnl°88rwasT6''o;'' " '" ^^"^^^60.
afterwards recourse was had tn . I.
the dividing ridge between Port T ^2°° '^ *^^ 'oithern slope ot
which an aftificifl tunnel kno™l^'l?\"?'^ S'"'"'7 ^^y- ^'^
water into the city at °he level^f w a^'V', ^°"' ^"""S^^ the
supply was wante/ the same wlt^Se' wr'^.-,^¥\"^'^"
being constructed at the pohit where TtV'f/^'f^'^^ *''' ^"''»
A scheme is now (1886) in coursl of L. .^"i '?'" ^°t'°y ^y-
the Upper Nepeai at V ^oi^t eTi^les from s'lJ" ''""S/^t^' fr""-
running i„ deep sandstone gorgerare coZf/^t^" ^"° '^'^'^'
their united waters are broS i^ anT"*"^ ^y.^ tunnel, and
nature of the' ground no W rl ^ ■ P'" <=o°duit. From the
but about 15 Sfrom Sy^^ y irPr;f,P'T"^'^ °^' '^^ ^"""^ !
dam thrown across a vaUel mli,^' ^'.tP//'- °^« Parramatta, a
hold a year's supply. Frem that^in/A °^"'•'"°"■ that wiU
canal and piping to the exi^Hnl^ *''■' '^^''"' " t*"^^" by open
limited aref ^t f hUer level bfin?'"^""',-'? .^^<"™ Street, th.
delivery into the citf^V be ore ?50 oSS on^O^^J?""^Pi"S- "^^
f^ol^ ptVen^t^Xnt^—f-^^l'-^^-it,
Ken^a^-r^^^^^
city to the ocean at a profectin^^?,!ll T " ^'"^'^ ^°^ tho'
known as Ben Buckler, wSe the sew»f .>"""' °^ ^""^ ^V
water jith a ^outherly^^rent T^^^^jr'" f° f ""^^ ^^to deeS
exposed to the beat of the ocean inl- ^ ^ ""^ ^'^^''' thgugS
above high-water mark, and f^m that plt^tT^- '"'''^'^- ^ ^ ^''^
inclmation of 1 in 109 and in a nl i P^' I' "'^^ ^th a uniform'
of 4 miles 25 chains ' IliS liatn S '^ll^'i' 'f^' ^"^ ^ ^'^^^
continuous monolith in co^cr^tTpSntann ''™"g^°"t i^ on,'
ndges, and on concrete arches acrm^ tt,^? . '^ "°''"' ^^^ ^'x^^T
diminishes. in size from 84^74X1 to s V'.T"'''^ ^^^ "
L-h, and at the upperU [(^^".^ IV.ZtXt {^„'
i inch, and at the upper end it h;fnr^-f„„ * "" "f » 'eet
separate districts. ItMs of ^ nbl5f v *° accomn^ocfate two
circular as is consistentwitK.^--'^' °'''^orm section, as iiearlv
It drains an ar^'f/fssTi'cr'es"^ an'?Tr/°f f '/'^ ^eeta s3
the, sewage when this ar^ is nnn^f * j ^'"^*''='* to discharge all
gether.wfth half an LTof ^rptdaV' Th '"^^^^^ London^ to!
water is to pass off by surface dra^s Th«^ ^"^^ ?^ .'"^^ ^torm
and along the foreshore is to be S into fh»T?' °^ ^^' ^°°« «'
the southern slope of Sydney anotW if ^ ^^"^ ^^'^^'- Jfrom
and, crossing the mouth of^Cook-3R^'ff^^''.^"°'-=<«thwanLs
i1e;°4e trm".^- --^^ P-^silll ^^^^ ft ^^j-^g^
boSi^thth^'Z^etStLt^^^^^^^^
and three others and the president ,r! ^•'^''i''PP'°g '"terest,
u?ent. They have the contoo oftha nrnT"''-"^ ^^ "-^ Govern.
tirely a Government department A „/» I 1?,!""' '^^'''^ ^ en-
been erected on the South Head cliff (5^7^ lighthouse has recently
light wh:ch is visible 27 miles off Tht '""' " P""''^^''' ^'^^tric
North Head is isolated from the afiace^t w,?'-""?' ^^""'"1 <=»
Beach by a fence and a br"ad bett of ,f„ '^^tering.place of Manly
quarantine anchor in a sheherp^ r,/%"°'^'"J?"'* ^^"d- Ships in
hospital-ship is also stationed ^ f°""°° ""^ *^« ^''^^. wh^ a
head"^S?f thtfdl^^altlrn^ tt°/ °t^^^?-'-- -<i the
hour have engaged the attenHon ? ' ^ ^pftifications of the bar-
inner line of lefence construct by Sir wT Governments. Th,
superseded by more elaborate workf On ^T ^'"1""" ^^ heen
harbour Middle Head, Georee'r H.^^ a *£^ ""''th side of ti,
powerful guns which c^oss firfwit^thoU"''^ Bradley's Head hay,
Pjetely commanding the entrance to t^ T ''^^SoutJi Head, com-
very effective torpedo serWce r, J t'!""^'- There is also a
Woollooraooloo Bly. has b7en handed .v 't"i' °^ '^' °>outh 0/
pent as a naval depSt ; the man rf w- V"" '""P"'*' Govern-
Its lee, and the colonia Gove™m;nt h« ^"'^Z''^' f close under
wharfs and store-houses. There is a Go^«™ i"i - ^" ""^'^^'y
Island capable of accommodating thehrr,rv?'° ^"'K''^ Cockatoo
shop dose by. Adioinin<r rt;.^ "« largest vessels, with a machine-
the sandston^ 600 fe^le^^'th a"n7m fe 't 'T« .1^^ *>"'»"
water over the sill at spring tfde is t^ l^ 3oll"^''^*'l' "^'Pth ol
29 feet 6 inches, and the wiHth ,t *^, '^^^'' ""^ ^t neap tide
Dock and Engineerina' roll \* *''' entrance 81 feet. Jlorfs
Bay capable ofuS,^ i^Z^Z'^o^l^Xr '"^f '1°^'' '' ^^«'^^i-r
also a patent slip, whicli ^an take up veS o7 looftr '"• . ^^"« ^
IS in course of construction for yJsIlfof i/on * '°°,'^?,°'^^^=™nJ
dock IS 410 feet long. Besides mlf^ " '?'• The graving.
slips, and a floatino. dock for fL' ^"^ f ^ °ther smallef patelt
Sydney is in th>ci°?eofV'lTcrba^^^^^
which IS supposed to be under thfc., I .,! ""^ ^^''"° Part ol
exists under the city itse"f and if I K^^'^M' " "-orkable seam
S Y E — S Y L
809
about the same distance to the north at a depth of 600 feet. Coal
is also brought into the city by railway from the Blue Mountains
and from the Mittagong district, but it is inferior in quality to that
mined on the coast. . ,i it i. i j
The abundance and cheapness of coal, as -well as the natural and
commercial advantages of Sydney, have been favourable to certain
Knes of manufacturing industry, notwithstanding the high price of
labour In addition to the industries connected ^^^th shipping,
those connected ^vith the pastoral industry have also been dcvel-
oped such as tanning, glue -making, meat -preserving, &o. The
E railway ^orks have, under the patronage of the Government
led to the manufacture of locomotives, and nearly all the rolling
stock is made in the colonies. Omnibuses, cabs, carriages, buggies,
dm s, and carts are made in every variety and of excellent quality,
as is klso harness. Bootmaking is an extensive business ; there
are also manufactories of tobacco, sugar, kerosene, sP'r ts beer
tweed, paper, furniture, glass, pottery, and stoves, as weU as a
ereat varietv of minor industries. , , , rrv„„ ;„ ,
^Public schools abound, ^Tith merely nomfnal fees There is a
high school for boys and girls. The grammar-school with an
attendance of 400 boys, receives from Government £1500 a year,
She fr^e use of the buUdings. .To th; l>andsome university
buUdincs a medical school is now being added The gr'=='' ^^" '^
the finlst Gothic building in Australasia The university is a
teachinrasTvell as examining institution, degrees being given in
thefour faculties of arts, medicine, law, and science. The univer-
ritywhich^ governed by a senate elected by the graduates, has a
Government eifdowment 'of £12,000 a year, and has been ennched
by several donations and bequests amounting to £2o0 000, of which
about £^80 000 by Mr Challis). To it are attached hree denomi-
national affiliated colleges, one belonging to the Anglican Church
one to the Roman Catholic, and one to the Presbyterian to each
?he Government contributed the land, £10,000 towards the bulld-
og S, and an annual stipend of £500 a year for the principa
Technical education is conducted under the auspices of a boa d
sunnorted entirely at the cost of the Government. The pupils
S number m^ore than a thousand, and t^e attendance at rte
classes is steadily increasing. There is a good school of arts, mth
400 members, and a good^irculating library The Public free
Ubrarv is supported by the Government, and to it is attached a
lending bS. The Royal Society has a roU of 500 members,
m^ets periodically for the rLding and discussion of BOi^ntific papers
publishes its transactions, and has a small library. The Lmnjean
Society is also well supported, and a Geographical Society has
fateb' be^h started. Thl museum, in College Street is managed
by trustees and supported wholly at the cost of the Government
There is a small museum attached to the university, to which Mr
Macleay has bequeathed his collection, which is especiaUy rich in
■^Mney has many charitable institutions. It has three hospitals,
the newest and largest, which is close to the university, having
S^nba^U after the^best European models. _ There are three large
lunatic asylums in the suburbs ; the latest is on the pav-ilion prin-
ciole Tbe benevolent asylum, which is mamly supported by the
Government, gives a large amount of outdoor assistance takes in
ail waifs and strays, and^ets as a lying-in hospital Old men are
prorided for in an institution at Liverpool. At Randwick is an
asylum for destitute children, which receives a large amount of
Government support ; and there are two orphan asylums at Parra-
matta; but the state chUdreu are now being boarded out under
Se auspices of a Government board. There are two Boup-kitc hens
and refuges, supported by private contributions, and also a char ty
organization sodety. There is a homo visiting and relief soc e y
Xded principally for those who have known b<^"7. ^/y^Jff,,^
prisoners' aid society, besides numerous friendly societies. All the
Churches are well represented, and to each is attached one or more
"^T^^ dirtro7-Sydney is mild and moderately equable. It
resembles closely the climate of Toulon. The mean temperature
re^^Fahr! aU the extreme range of the shade thermometer
is from 106° to 36' Fahr. The sea-breeze which prevails dunng the
fumm"r comes from the north-east, and, whi e it t-^^P^f ;h«^^^^'-
«iakes the air moist and induces languor. In ^"nt<',^^'^»^f'^^,5'^-
ing wind is from the west, and the air is dry and bracing The
Minual rainfall is 50 inches. The hot north-west wind of summer
Zerimes sends the humidity down below 30;, ani once lUias b n
as low as 16° In the cool westerly winds of winter it seldom tails
to 6^, and never below 45°. The average humidity for the year u
74°. The mean tide is 3 feet 3 inches. '.A. UA.;
SYENE (AswAn). See Egypt, vol. vu. p 783.
SYENITE. See Granite, vol. xi. p. 49. ^ „ ,
SYLBURG, Friedrich (1536-1596), an eminent Greek
scholar, and one of the greatest figures in the annals of
German philology, was the son of a farmer, and ^^as born
at Wetter near Marburg in 1536. Wetter had then an ex-
cellent school, taught by J. FoeniUus and Justus Vulteius,
and Sylburg also got help in his studies from the preacher
J. Pincier, whose daughter he subsequently married. His
studies were continued at Marburg and Jena, and then at
Geneva (1559) and at Paris. Here his teacher was Henry
Estienne (Stephens), to whose great Greek Thesaurm
Sylburg afterwards made important contributions. Re-
turning to Germany, he was for a time a tchoolrnastcr at
Neuhaus near Worms, and then head of a new gymnasium
at Lich, where he edited a useful edition of Nicolas
Cleynart's Greek Grammar (Frankfort, 1580), which was
thrice reprinted during his Ufetime. But the period of
his important literary labours began when (having pre-
viously, in 1581, declined a call to the Greek chair at
Marburg) he resigned his post at Lich and moved to
Frankfort to act as corrector and editor of Greek texts
for the enterprising publisher J. Wechel. To his Frankfort
period belong the editions of Pausanias (1583), Herodotus
(1584), Dionysius of Halicarnassus (2 vols., 1586— one of
his best pieces of work), Aristotle (5 vols., 1587— dedi-
cated to the landgraves of Hesse, from one of whom,
Louis rV., he received a pension), the Greek and LaUu
sources for the history of the Roman emperors (3 vols.,
1589-90), and the Hepi o-wTa^eus of ApoUonius. In 1591
he was attracted to Heidelberg by the treasures of the
library, not yet scattered by the Thirty Years' War. Here
he became librarian to the elector palatine, and was un-
tiring in collecting further ]MS. treasures. At the same
time^the series of editions, which Wechel had begun to
find too costly, was continued by the Heidelberg publisher
Hieronymus Commelinus. At Heidelberg were printed
Clement of Alexandria (1592), Justin Martyr (1593), the
Elymologicum, Magnum (1594), the Scriptores de Re
Rustica (1595), the Greek gnomic poets (1596), Xenophon
(1596), Nonnus (1596), and other works. All Sylburgs
editions show great critical power and indefatigable
industry. Indeed he wore himself out with work, and died
on 16th February 1596, "nimiis vigiliis ac typographicis
laboribus consumptus," as his tombstone in the churchyard
of St Peter's in Heidelberg has it. There is a careful
notice of his life by K. W. Justi in Strieder's Hessischi
Ovlehrien-Geschichie, xviii. 481 sq.
SYLHET, a British district of India, in the province of
Assam, lying between 25° 12' and 23° 59' N. lat. and
91° and 92° 38' E. long., with an area of 5381 square
miles It is bounded on the N. by the KhAsi and Jaintia
Hills district, on the E. by Cachar, on the S. by the state
of HiU Tipperah and the district of Tipperah, and on the
W by the district of Maimansinh. Sylhet consists of the
lower vaUey of the Surma or Barak river, and for the most
part is a uniform level, broken only by scattered clusters
of sandy hillocks called tilds, and intersected by a network
of rivers and drainage channels. In the south eight low
ranges of hills, spurs of the Tipperah Mountains, run out
into the plain, the highest range being about 1500 feet
above sea-level. There is also a small detached group m
the centre of the district called the Ita Hills. Entering
the district from Cachar, the Surma bifurcates into two
branches : the main branch flows beneath the hills border-
in^ the north-east part, while the minor branch, the
KSsi.^ra, flows in a south-westerly direction across th«
district ; they again unite on the south-western boundary
and fall into the Meghna under the name of Dhalcswan.
Both branches are navigable by large boats and support.
a busy traffic. The wild animals of the district conipriso
elephants, tigers, buffaloes, bison, and several varieties of
deer The climate of Sylhet is extremely damp and the
rainfall is heavy, reaching an annual average of over
150 inches J the rainy season generally lasts from April
to October.' XXII. - .02
810
S y L — S Y M
Vn 1881 the population was returned at 1,969,009, of whom
999,785 were males and 969,224 females. Hindus numbered 949,353,
Mohammedans 1,015,531, and hill tribes 3/08. The only places
V-i^h a population exceeding 5000 are Sylhet town (14,407) and
Kashba Baniachang, a large Tillage (24,061). Sylhet town, the
administrative headquarters of the distiict, is situated on the right
or north bank of the Surma, and besides the usual public offices
contains a handsome church and the mosqae of Shah J alii (a fakir
whose miraculous powers contributed greatly to the Mussulman
conquest of the country), which attracts pilgrims from great dis-
tances. Out of the total area 3080 square miles were returned as
under cultivation in 1882-83 and 654 as cultivable. The staple
crop is rice, which yields three harvests during the year. There are
immense forest tracts in the south-eastern parts of Sylhet. The chief
industries are the weaving by Manipuri women of cotton cloths
called Manipuri khesh, also handkerchiefs and mosquito curtains
tastefully embroidered with silk. The manufacture of mats, ivory
»nd-shell carving, andother ornamental work are also Bursaed with
much skill and elegance,
Sylhet with the rest of Bengal passed into the hands of the
British in 1765. Previous to 1874 Sylhet formed an integral part
of Bengal, being included in the Dacca division ; but in September
of that year it was annexed, together with the adjoining district
of Cachar, to the chief-commissionership of Assam,
SYLT (probably from tbe Old Frisian Silendi, i.e., " sea-
land") is the largest German island in the North Sea,
being 40 square miles in area and nearly 23 miles long.
It is, however, very narrow, generally about half a mile in
■width, except in the middle, where it sends out a peninsula
7 miles across. It beloiigs to the province of Schleswig-
Eolstein, and lies from 7 to 12 miles from the Schleswig
coast. Its long and slender outline is highly suggestive
of its former position as part of a continuous line of coast,
now in great part swept away. The invasion of the sea
has made considerable progress even within a compara-
tively recent period, and- several hamlets were swallowed
up in the 13th and 14th centuries. The process of gradual
•waste is still going on, though it is now obviated to some
extent by the exertions of the Prussian Government, and
counterbalanced by deposits of mud on the landward side.
The central peninsula contains some "marshland" and
moorland pasture, on which a few thousand sheep are
grazed, but the rest of the island consists merely of dunes
or sand-hills, which at places attain a height of from 100
to 150 feet. The inhabitants, about 3000 in number, are
of Frisian origin, though a few in the extreme north of
the island speak Danish. Their occupations are fishing,
oyster-dredging, seamanship, and wild-duck catching ; the
women make large quantities of woollen jackets. The
chief places are Keitum (850 inhabitants), Westerland,
which is annually visited by about 1 500 sea-bathers, and
Morsum. Some very interesting pagan tombs have been
found on the island.
SYLVESTER. See Silvester.
SYMBOL. See Creeds.
SYilE, James (1799-1870), surgeon, was bom at Edin-
burgh on 7th November 1799. His father was a writer
to the signet and a landowner in Fife and Kinross, who
lost most of his fortune in attempting to develop the
mineral resources of his property. James was sent to the
High School at the age of nine, and remained there until
he was fifteen, when he entered the university. For two
years he frequented the arts classes (including botany),
and in 1817 began the medical curriculum, devoting him-
self with particular keenness to chemistry. His chemical
experiments led him to the discovery that "a valuable
substance is obtainable from coal tar which has the
property of dissolving india-rubber," and could be used
for waterproofing silk and other textile fabrics, — an idea
which was patented a few months afterwards by Macintosh
of Glasgow. In the session of 1818-19 Syme became
assistant and demonstrator in the dissecting room of Liston,
who had started as an extra-mural teacher of anatomy
fn competition with his old master Barclay; in those
years he held also resident appointments in the infirmary
and the fever hospital, and spent some time in Paris practis-
ing dissection and operative surgery. In 1823 Liiton
handed over to him the whole charge of his anatomy
classes, retaining his interest in the school as a pecuniary
venture ; the arrangement did not work smoothly, and a
feud with Liston arose, which did not terminate until
twenty years later, when the latter was settled in London.
Syme's next venture was the Brown Square school of
medicine, which he started in 1824-25 in conjunction
with Dr Macintosh, Dr Fletcher, and others ; the partner-
ship was again inharmonious, and soon came to an end.
Announcing his intention to practise surgery only, Syme
started a surgical hospital of his own, Minto House hos-
pital, which he carried on from Jlay 1829 to September
1 833, with great success as a surgical charity and school
of clinical instruction. It was here that he first put into
practice his method of clinical teaching, which consisted
in having the patients to be operated or prelected upon
brought from the ward into a lecture-room or theatre
where the students were seated conveniently for seeing
and taking notes. His private practice, had become very
considerable, his position having been assured ever since
his amputation at the hip joint in 1823, the first of
the kind in Scotland. In 1833 he succeeded Piussel as
professor of clinical surgery in the university. SjTue's
accession to the clinical chair was marked by two. import-
ant changes in the conditions of it.: the first was that the
professor should have the care of surgical patients in the
infirmary in right of his professorship, and the second,
that attendance on his course should be obligatory on all
candidates for the medical degree. When Liston removed
to London in 1835 Syme became the leading consulting
surgeon in Scotland. On Liston's death in 1847 Syme
was offered his vacant chaip of clinical surgery at Uni-
versity College, London, and accepted it. He began prac-
tice in London in February 1848; but early in May the
same year difficulties with two of his colleagues at Gower
Street and a desire to " escape from animosity and conten-
tion " led him to throw up his appointment. He returned
to Edinburgh in July, and was re-instated in his old chair,
which the crown authority had meanwhile found a difiiculty
in appointing to. The judgment of his friends was that
" he was always right in the matter, but often wrong in
the manner, of his quarrels." In 1849 he broached the
subject of medical reform in a letter to the lord advocate ;
in 1854 and 1857 he addressed open letters on the same
subject to Lord Palmerston ; and in 1S58 a Medical Act
was passed which largely followed the lines laid down by
himself. As a member of the General Medical Council
called into existence by the Act, he made considejable stir
in 1868 by an uncompromising statement of doctrines on
medical education, which were thought by many to bo
reactionary ; they were, however, merely an attempt to
recommend the methods that had b.een characteristic of
Edinburgh teaching since Cullen's time, — namely, a con-
stant reference of facts to principles, the subordination
(but not the sacrifice) of technical details to generalitia"),
and the preference of large professorial classes and the
"magnetism of numbers" to the tutorial system, which
he identified with "cramming." In April 1S69 he had a
paral3rtic seizure, and at once resigned his chair ; ho never
recovered his powers, and died on 2Cth June 1870.
Syme's surgical writings are numerous, although the terseness
of his stylo and directness of his method save thcni from being
bulky. In 1831 he published A Treatise on the E^cis-ion of JJiseaaed
Joints (the celebrated ankle-joint amputation is known by his name).
His Principles of Surgery (often reprinted) came out a few niontiis
later ; Diseases of the Itectum in 183S ; Stricture of the Urethra vjid
Fistula in Perinea in 1849 ; and JExcision of the Scapula in 1864.
In 1848 he collected into a volume, under the title of CunlribuUent
S Y M — S Y N
811
to the Pathology and Practice of Surgery, thirty-one original memoirs
published in periodicals from time to time ; and in 1S61 he issued
another volume of Obserrations in Clinical Surgery. Syme's charac-
ter is not inaptly summed up in the dedication to him by his old
pupil, Dr John ^5ro^vn, of the series of essays Locke and Sydenham, :
"Verax, capax, perspicai, sagax, efficax, tenax."
See Memorials of Uu Life of James Si/m^, by R. Pateraon, M.D., with portraits,
Bdinburgh, 1874.
SYilEON' OF DiTRHAM was the author of two works of
great importance in English history, especially in tViat of
northern England, viz., the Jlistoria Dunelmensis EccUsix
and the Itistoria Regum. Very little is known of his life.
There is no record of the date of his birth or death. He
was at Jarrow about 1080, before the monastic community
moved thence to Durham (1083). He probably did not
become a professed monk tiU some time after that event.
In 110-t he was present at the opening of the coffin and
the examination of the remains of St Cuthbert. Between
1104 and 1108 he composed his History of the Church of
Durham, bringing it down to the death of William of St
Carilef (1096). Many years later he compiled his Hisforia
Regum, which is a chronicle of Northumbrian aflFairs from
the date at which Bede stops (731). He was also probably
the author of a letter De Archiepiscopis Eboraci, but not
of the treatise De Miraculis et Translationibus sometimes
attributed to him. Selden, in his introduction to Twysden's
Decern Scriptores, attributes the Historia Dunelmensis Ec-
clesix to Turgot, prior of that church ; but Mr Arnold, in
the preface to his edition of Symeon's works, successfully
disproves Selden's assertions. This work is original and
of great value ; the Historia Regum, on the other hand,
is a compilation from various sources, brought down by
Symeon to 1121 or 1129. Both works were continued by
other hands.
See Twysden, Decern Scriptores, and prefaces to Symeon's works,
by Mr Hodgson Hinde (Surtees Society edition, 1868)'and by Mr
T. Arnold (Rolls Series edition, 1882-85).
SYMEON, surnamed Metapheastes, Byzantine hagio-
grapher, according to Leo Allatitis {De Symeonum Scriptis,
Paris, 1664), lived during the first half of the 10th century
under Leo the Philosopher and his successor at Constanti-
nople, where he successively held the positions of secretary,
grand logothete, and master of the palace. This view, subse-
quently adopted by Cave, Fabricius, and others, was after-
wards disputed, but not convincingly, by Oudin (Comm.
de Scriptt. Eccles. Antiq., vol. ii., 1722), who identified Meta-
phrastes with another Symeon who also held the offices of
logothete and master of the palace under John Comnenus,
and published a still extant Epitome Canonum in 1160.
Symeon's Aletajihrases, as his legends are called (whence
his name Metaphrastes), occur in MS. in many European
libraries ; many of them are also to be found in the Acta
Sanctorum and similar collections ; but others remain un-
printed. Allatius and Cave recognize only 123 of the
hundreds of lives assigned to him as genuine. The titles
of other writings of Symeon, with references to further
authorities, will bo found in the article " Metaphrastes,"
by Gass, in Herzog-Plitt's Eiicykl., vol ix.
SYilMACHUS, pope from 498 to 514, L-xd'Anastasius
IL for his predecessor and was himself followed by
Hormisdas. Ho was a native of Sardinia, apparently a
convert from paganism, and was in dcacon'a orders at the
time of hia election. Tlie choice was not unanimous,
another candidate, Laurentius, having the support of a
strong Byzantine party ; and both competitors were con-
secrated by their friends, the one in the Lateran church
and the other in that of St Mary, on 22d November 498.
A decision was not long afterwards obtained in favour of
Symmachus from Theodoric, to whom the dispute had
b^en referred ; but peace was not established until 505 or
506, when the Gothic king ordered the Laurentian party
to surrender the churches of which they had takca poaaea-
sion. An important incident in the protracted controversy
was the decision of the "palmary synod" (see vol. xii. r-.
492). The remainder of the pontificate of Symmachus
was tineventful ; history speaks of various churches in
Rome as having been built or beautified by him.
SYMMACHUS, Quixrus Aukelius, consul "in 391,
and one of the most brilliant representatives in public life
and in literature of the old pagan party at Rome, wa.<i
educated in Gaul, and, having discharged the functions of
praetor and quasstor, rose to higher offices, and in 373 -was
proconsul of Africa. His public dignities, which included
that of pontiff, his great wealth and high character, added
to his reputation fsr eloquence, marked him out as the
champion of the pagan senate against the measures which
the Christian emperors directed against the old state re-
ligion of Rome. In 382 he was banished from Rome by
Gratian for his protest against the removal of the statue
and altar of Victory from the senate-house, and in 384,
when he was prefect of the city, he addressed to Valentinian
a letter praying for the restoration of these symbols. This
is the most interesting of his literary remains, and called
forth two replies from St Ambrose, as well as a poetical
refutation from Prudentius. After this Symmachus was
involved in the rebellion of Maiimus, but obtained his
pardon from Theodosius, and appears to have continued in
public life up to his death.
Of the writings of Symnir thus we possess (1) ten books of Epistla,
published after his death by his son. The model followed by th«
writer is Pliny the Younger, and from a reference in the Saturnalia
of Macrobius (bk. v., i. § 7), in which Symmachus is introduced as on»
of the interlocutors, it appears that his contemporaries deemed him
second to none of the ancients in the "rich and florid " style. The
first edition of the Epistles by Bart. Cynischus (s. I. eta., but pub-
lished under Pope Julius II.) is very incomplete, and the collection
was only gradually completed by subsequent editors. (2) Frag-
ments of nine Complimentary Orations from a palimpsest, of which
part is at Milan and part in the Vatican, were discovered by Mai,
who published the Jlilan fragments in 1815, the Roman ones in hia
Scriptorum Vctcrum Nova Colleclio, vol. i. (1825), and the whole in
1846. The work was not well done, and many corrections are given
in a new collation by 0. Seeck {Commentationes in Honorem Th,
i/ominseni, Berlin, 1877, p. 595 sq.), which has been followed by
an edition of the works of Symmachus in the ilonuiyienta Qcr-
manix Ristorica, Berlin, 1883.
SYMPHONY. See Music, vol. xvii. p. 95.
SYNAGOGUE (nwayiayri), literally " asssmblaga," ia
the term employed to denote either a congregation cf Jews,
i.e., a local circle accustomed to meet together for worship
and religious instruction, or the building in which the con-
gregation met. In the first sense the word is a translation
of nD33, keneseth, in the second of nOJSn n'3, beth hakkeneselh.
The germ of the synagogue, that is, of rcligioue assemblages
dissociated from the ancient ritual of the altar, may be
found in the circle of the prophets and their disciples (see
especially Isa. viii. 16 sq.) ; but the synagogue as an insti-
tution characteristic of Judaism arose after the work of
Ezra, and is closely connected with the development of
that legal Judaism to which his reformation gave definite
shape. From the time of Ezra downwards it was the busi-
ness of every Jew to know the law; tho school {hith ham-
midrash) trained scholars, but the synagogue, where the
law was read every Sabbath (Acts xv. 21), was tho means
of popular instruction. Such synagogues existed in all
parts of Judwa in the time of Psalm bcxiv. 8 (probably a
psahn of th* Persian period); in Acts xv. 21 it appears
that they had existed for many generations "in every city."
This held good not only for Palestine but for tho Diapor-
sion ; in post-Talmudic times tho rule was that a synagceue
must bo built wherever there were ten Jews. And, though
tho name "synagogue" varies with n-^xxreuxv ("place of
prayer "), it appears that everywhere tho assembkgo was
primarily one for instruction in tho law : tho sj-nagoguo,
03 Philo puts it, was a ^i&aa-KaXtlov. A formed inatilu'ioa
812
S Y N — S Y K
of this sort required some organization : the general order
of the service was directed by one or more " rulers of the
synagogue " (opx'''^'''^>'"7'"i Luke xiii. 14; Acts xiii. 15),
who called on fit persons to read, pray, and preach ; alms
•were collected by two or more "collectors" (gabbde seddkd);
and a "minister" {haz^dn, vTv-qpkrq'i, Luke iv. 20) had charge
of the sacred jocks (preserved in an "ark") and of other
ministerial functions, including the teaching of children to
read. The discipline of the congregation was enforced by
excommunication [herem) or temp"'ary exclusion {iiidduy),
and also by the minor punishment of scourging (Matt. x. 1 7),
inflicted by the hazzdn. The disciplinary power was in
the hands of a senate of elders (■jrpia-fSvTepoi, ■yepovo-w),
the chief members of which were apxayns. The principal
jervice of the synagogue was held on Sabbath morning,
^nd included, according to the Mishnah, the recitation of the
?hema (Deut. vi. 4-9, xi. 13-21; Numb. xv. 37-41), prayer,
lessons from the law'and prophets with Aramaic transla-
tion, a sermon (derdshah) based on the lesson (Acts xiii.
15), and finally a blessing pronounced by the priest or
invoked by a layman. On Sabbath afternoon and on
Monday and Thursday there was a service without a lesson
from the prophets; there were also services for all feast-
days. Synagogues were built by preference beside water
for the convenience of the ceremonial ablutions (comp.
Acts xvi. 13); and remains of very ancient buildings of
this class exist in several parts of Galilee ; they generally
lie north and south, and seem to have had three doors
to the south, and sometimes to have been divided by
columns into a nave and two aisles.
Jewish tradition has a great deal to say about a body
called "the great synagogue," which- is supposed to have
been the supreme religious authority from the cessation
of prophecy to the time of the high priest, Simeon the
Just, and is even said (by modern writers since Elias
Levita) to have fixed the Old Testament canon. (cp» vol.
V. p. 3 sq.). But Kuenen in his essay " Over de Mannen
der Groote Synagoge " ( Verslagen of the Amsterdam
Academy, 1876) has shown that these traditions are
fiction, and that the name kenesdh haggddola originally
denoted, not a standing authority, but the great convoca-
tion of Neh. viii.-x.
Compare in general Schiirer, GeschichU des judischen VoVces,
§ 27, where the older literature is catalogued. For the usages of
the synagogue in more recent times, see Buxtorf, Synagoge Jvdaica,
Basel, 1641.
SYNEDRIUM (trvvtSjoiov), a Greek word which means
"assembly" and is especially used of judicial or representa-
tiTe assemblies, is the name by which (or by its Hebrew
transcription, 1''^^^3D, sanhedrin, sanhedrim) that Jewish
body is known which in its origin was the municipal coun-
cil of Jerusalem, but acquired extended functions and no
small authority and influence over the Jews at large (see
vol. xiii. p. 424 sq.). In the Mishnah it is called " the san-
hedrin," "the great sanhedrin," "the sanhedrin of seventy-
one [members]," and "the great court of justice" {beth din
haggddol). The oldest testimony to the existence and
constitution of ,the synedrium of Je?usalem is probably to
be found in 2 Chron. xix. 8; for the priests, Levites, and
hereditary heads of houses there spoken of as sitting at
Jerusalem as a court of appeal from the local judicatories
does not correspond with anything mentioned in the old
history, and it is the practice of the Chronicler to refer the
institutions of his own time to an origin in ancient Israel.
And just such an aristocratic council is what seems to be
meant by the gerusia or senate of " elders " repeatedly
mentioned in the history of the Jews, both under the
Greeks from the time of Antiochus the Great (Jos., Ant,
siL 3, 3) and under tha Hasmonean high priests and
princes. The high priest as the head of the state was
doubtless also the head of the senate, which, according to
Eastern usage, exercised both judicial and administrative or
political functions (comp. 1 Mac. xii. 6, xiv. 20). The exact
measure of its authority must have varied from time to
time, at first with the measure of autonomy left to the nation
by its foreign lords and afterwards with the more or less
autocratic power claimed by the native sovereigns.
As has been shown in vol. xiii. p. 424 sq., the original
aristocratic constitution of the senate began to be modified
under the later Hasmoneans by the inevitable introduction
of representatives of the rising party of the Pharisees, and
this new element gained strength under Herod the Great,
the bitter enemy of the priestly aristocracy.^ Finally under
the Eoman procurators the synedrium was left under the
presidency of the chief priest as the highest native tribunal,
though without the power of life and death (John xviiL
31). The aristocratic element now again preponderated,
as, appears from Josephus and from the New Testament,
in which "chief priests" and "rulers" are synonymous
expressions. But with these there sat also ."scribes" or
trained legal doctors of the Pharisees and other notables,
who are simply called " elders " (Mark xv. 1). The Jewish
tradition which regards the synedrium as entirely composed
of rabbins sitting under the presidency and vice-presidency
of a pair of chief doctors, the nasi and ah beth din,^ is
quite false as regards the true synedrium. It was after
the fall of the state that a merely rabbinical leth dinesA
at Jabneh and afterwards at Tiberias, and gave legal "re-
sponses to those who chose to admit a judicature not
recognized by the civil power. Gradually this illegal court
usurped such authority that it even ventured to pronounce
capital sentences, — acting, however, with so much secrecy
as to ^llow the Roman authorities to close their eyes to its
proceedings (Origen, Ep. ad Afr., § 14). That this was
possible will appear less surprising if we remember that
in like manner the synedrium of Jerusalem was able to
extend an authority not sanctioned by Roman law over
Jews beyond Judtea, e.g., in Damascus (Acts ix. 2; xxiL 5).
The council-chamber (fiovX-^) where the synedrium usually sat
was between the Xystus and the temple, probably on the temple-
hill, but hardly, as the Mishnah states, within the inner court. The
meeting in the palace of the high priest which condemned our Lord
was exceptional. The proceedings also on this occasipn were highly
irregular, if measured by the rules of procedure which, according to
Jewish tradition, were laid down to secure order and a fair trial for
the accused.
Of the older literatnre of the sahjcct it is enongh to cite Selden, De Syrudriis.
The most important critical discussion is that of Kuenen in the Verslagen, Ac,
of the Amsterdam Academy, 1866, p. 131 sq. A good eummary is given by
Bchiirer, Geschichle des judischen Volkes, 2d ed., § 23, iii.
SYNESIUS, bishop of Ptolemais in the Libyan Penta-
polis from 410 to c. 414, was born of wealthy parents, who
claimed descent from Spartan kings, at Gyrene about 375.
While still a youth (393) he went with his brother
Euoptius to Alexandria, where he became an enthusiastic
Neoplatonist and disciple of Hypatia (q.v.). Returning
to his native place some time before 397, he was in that
year chosen to head an embassy from the cities of the
Pentapolis to the imperial court to ask for remission of
taxation and other relief. His stay in Constantinople,
which lasted three years, was wearisome sand otherwise
disagreeable ; the leisure it forced upon him he devoted in
part to literary composition (see his De Provideniia). The
oration he delivered when at last admitted to the presence
of Arcadius is also extant {De Regno). Returning abruptly
to Gyrene in 400, he spent the next ten years partly in
that city, when unavoidable business called him there, but
chiefly on an estate in the interior of the province, where
' The name synedrium first appears under Hyrcanm IL (Jos, Aftl.,
XIV. 9, 4).
^ The former word properly means the sovereign and the latter tt«
president of the tribimal. The false traditional application is foeU
Mishnic.
S Y N — S Y R
813
he 'was able to enjoy the literary leisure that was most
congenial to him, varying his studies with gardening and
hunting and the quiet pleasures of domestic life. His
marriage took place at Alexandria in 403 ; in the previous
year he had visited Athens. In 409 or 410 Synesius,
whose Christianity had until then been by no means very
pronounced, was popularly chosen to be bishop of Ptole-
mais, and, after long hesitation on personal and doctrinal
grounds, he ultimately accepted the office thus thrust upon
him, being consecrated by Theophilus at Alexandria. One
personal difficulty at least was obviated by his being
allowed to retain his wife, to whom he was much attached;
but as regarded orthodoxy he expressly stipulated for
personal freedom to dissent on the questions of the soul's
creation, a literal resurrection, and the final destruction of
the world, while at the same time he agreed to make some
concession to popular views in his public teaching (ra fev
orKOc ^iXoa-orjjwv, Tci S' e^o> (piKo/xvOiov). His tenure of
the bishopric, which was comparatively brief, was troubled
noS only by domestic bereavements but also by barbaric
invasions of the country, and by conflicts with the prefect
Ajidronicus, whom he excommunicated for interfering with
the church's right of asylum. The date of his death is un-
known, but he died probably not later than 414.
His extant works are — (1) a speecli before Arcadius, Dc Scgiio ;
(2) Dio, sive de suo ipsius Instituto, in which he signifies his purpose
to devote himself to true philosophy ; (3) Encomium Calvilii, a
literary jeu d' esprit, suggested by Dio Chrysostom's Praise of Hair ;
(4) Dc Providenlia, in two books ; (5) Dc Insomniis ; (6) 157 Epis-
tolee ; (7) 12 ffijmni ; and several homilies and occasional speeches.
The editio princeps is that of Turnebus (Paris, 1553) ; it was
Ibllowed by that of Morell, with Latin translation by Petavius
(1612, greatly enlarged and improved 1633 : reprinted by iHigne,
1859). The Epistolx, which for the modern reader greatly exceed
his other works in interest, have been edited by Demetriades
(Vienna, 1792) and by Glukus (Venice, 1812), the Calvitii En-
comium by Krabinger (Stuttgart, 1834), the Dc Providentia by
Krabinger (Sulzbach, 1835), the De Regno by Krabinger (Munich,
1825), and the Hymns by Flach (Tubingen, 1875).
Bee Clausen, Z)e Sjmesio PAi?osopfto (Copenliagen, 1831); Volkniann, Synesius
tjon Cyrene (Perlio, 1869) ; and Miss Alice Gardner's monograph in "The Fathers
for English Readers " (London, 1886).
SYNOD. See Coitncil and Peesbyteeiaotsm.
. SYPHILIS. See Pathology, vol. xviii. pp. 404, 405,
and SuEGEEY, p. 686 above.
SYKA, or Syeos, a Greek island in the middle of the
Cyclades, which in the 19th century has become the com-
mercial centre of the Archipelago, and is also the residence
of the nomarch of the Cyclades and the seat of the central
law courts. In ancient times this island was remarkably
fertUe, as is to be gathered not only from the Homeric
description (Od. xv. 403), which might be of doubtful
application, but also from the remains of olive presses and
peculiarities in the local nomenclature. The destruction
of its forests has led to the loss of all its alluvial soil, and
now it is for the most part a brown and barren rock,
covered at best vrith scanty aromatic scrub, pastured by
sheep and goats. The length of the Lsland is about 10
miles, the breadth 5, and the area is estimated at 42 J square
miles. The population 's now estimated to number about
33,700, of whom about 20,500 are in the chief town.
Commerce is the main occupation of the islanders, though
they also build ships, have extensive tanneries, large steam
flour-mills, a steam weaving and rope factorj', and a hand-
kerchief factory, and grow vegetables for export.
Hcrmopolis, as the chief town is called, is built round the harbour
on tho cast side of tho island. It is governed by an nctivc munici-
pality, whoso revenue a»d expenditure have rapidly increased.
Among tho public building:! are a spacious town-hall in tho central
square, a club-house, an opcra-houso, and a Greek theatre. Old
Syra, on a conical hill behind the port town, is an intcrcstlhg place,
with its old Roman Catholic church of St George's atill crowning
the summit. This was built by tho Capuchins, who in tho Middle
Ages chose Syra as tho headquarters of a mission in tho East.
fiOuis Xni., hearing of tho dangers to which tho Syra priests were
exposed, took tho island under his especial protection, and since that
time the Roman Catholic bishops of Syra have been elected by tho
pope. Alwut the beginning of tho 19th century the inhabitants of
SjTa numbered only about 1000 ; whenever a. Turkish vessel ap.
pcared they made off to tho interior and hid themselves. On the
outbreak of the war of Greek independence refugees from Chios,
after being scattered throughout Tenos, Spezia, Hydra, ic, and
rejected by tho .people of Ceos, took up their residence at Syra
under the protection of the French flag. Altogether about 40,000
had souglit this asylum before the freedom of Greece was achieved.
The chief city was called HermopoHs after tho name of tho ship
which brought the earlier settlers. Most of tho immigrants elected
to stay, ard, though tliey were long kept in alarm by pirates, they
have continued steadily to prosper. lu 1875 15G8 sailing ships
and 698 steamers (with a total of 740,731 tons) entered and 1588
sailing ships and 700 steamers (with a total of 756,807 tons) cleared
this port; in 1883 3379 sailing and 1126 steam vessels (with a
total of 1,056,201 tons) entered and 3276 sailing and 1120 steam
vessels (with a total of 900,229 tons) cleared. Most of tho sailing
vessels were Creek and Turkish, and most of the steamers were
Austrian, French, and Turkish.
SYHACUSE (YvpaKoa-aijYvpa.Kovcraij'Zvp^Kovcrai; Lat. Topo-
St/racusx ; It. Siracusa), the chief Greek city of ancient sraphy
Sicily and one of the earliest Greek settlements in the
island (see Sicily, p. 15 above). The foundation legend
takes several shapes (Thuc, vi. 3 ; Strabo, vi. 4, p. 209) ;
but there is no reason to doubt that Syracuse was founded
by Archias of Corinth as part of a joint enterprise together
with Corcyra, and the received date 735 B.C. may pass as
approximate.'* The first settlement was on a small island,
parted from the coast by a very narrow channel (for map,
see pi. II.). it points southward, in front of a deep bay,
which, with the opposite headland (Plemmyrium), it helps
to shelter from the sea. This formed the Great Harbour;
the Lesser Harbour of Laccius lay to the north of the
iisland, between it and a peninsula of the mainland, 'with
the open .sea to the east and north. The peninsula consists
of part of a hill which almost everywhere leaves some
space between itself and the sea. To the west of the Great
Harbour a marshy plain lies on each side of the river
Anapus. On the south side of tho river is a smaller hill.
The coast of tho island and of the peninsula is rocky.
That of the harbour is for the most part flat, except part
of the west and south sides and the headland opposite the
island. From the island tho city spread over the whole
peninsula, while a detached suburb (Polichne) arose on the
outlying hill beyond Anapus. Tho marshy ground between
tho two was not fit for building. All these additions have
been gradually forsaken, and the modern towu b confined
to tho island.
Tho island was called Ortygia, a name connected with Island ef"
tho Delian legend of Artemis (see Holm, Gesch. Sic, i. Ortygia,,
886), but often simply tho Island (Liv., xxv. 24, 30).
Though the lowest part of the city, its position and
strength made it the citadel, and it is therefore often
spoken of by Diodorus and Plutarch as if it had been a
real acropolis. It is famous for tho fountain of Arethusa,
conncclod in Greek legend with the river Alpheus in
Peloponnesus." Tho sweet water perished when an earth-
quake brought in the sea in 1170.* At tho time of the
first settlement tho island was held by Sicels ; some have
thought that a Phoenician element lingered on under both
Sicels and Greeks. It is certain (Herod., vii. 166) that
Syracuse and Carthage stood in relations to one another
which were not usual between Greek and barbarian cities.
It has also been thought from some legendary hints that
Polichne was tho original Syracuse, and that tho plural
form (^vpaKovcrat) arose from tlio union of Ortygia and
Polichne. But the plural form is common enough in
other cases. The chief evidence for the belief is that tho
> Sec Plut., Amat. Sarr., 2.
' See Pind., Kem., L 1, and tho scientific disousaioiu In Strabo, vl
2, p. 270 ; also Pausanias, t. 7, 2-4.
» Hugo FbIc., cd. Murat., ril. 362 ; Lumla, Siciha totlo OujluiiM
ilButmo, 117.
814
SYRACUSE
great temple of Olympian Zeus stood in Policline and
that (Plut., Nic., ,14) the register of Syracusan citizens
was kept there.
Till the beginning of the 5th century B.C. our notices of
Syracusan history are quite fragmentary. Almost the only
question is whether, as some stray notices .(Athen., i. 56;
Bee Miiller's Dorians, i. 161, Eng. tr.) riiight suggest, the
primitive kingship was retained or renewed at Syracuse,
as it certainly was in some other Greek colonies. A king
Pollis is spoken of ; but nothing is known of his actions.
It is far more certain that Syracuse went through the
usual revolutions of a Greek city. The descendants of the
original settlers kept the land in their own hands, and they
^adually brought the Sicel inhabitants to a state not
unlike villainage. Presently other settlers, perhaps not
always Greek, gathered round the original Syracusstn
people ; they formed a distinct body, Sij/xos or plehs,
personally free, but with an inferior political franchise or
none at aU. The old citizens thus gradually grew into
an exclusive or aristocratic body, called ydfiopoi or land-
owners. We hear incidentally of disputes, ■seditions, and
changes, among others the banishment of a whole ffms
(Thuc, V. 5 ; Arist;, FoL, v. 3, 5, 4, 1 ) ; but we have no dates
or details till we have entered the 5th century B.C. In its
external development Syracuse differed somewhat from
other Sicilian cities. Although it lagged in early times
behind both Gela and Acragas (Agrigentum), it very soon
began to aim at a combination of land and sea- power.
Between 663 and 598 it founded the settlements of Acrae,
Casmense, and Camarina, of which the first was unusuaUy
far inland. The three together secured for Syracuse a
continuous dominion to the south-east coast. They were
not strictly colonies but outposts ; Camarina indeed was
destroyed after a revolt .against the ruling city (Thuc, v.
1). That the inland Sicel town of Henna was ever a
Syracusan settlement there is no reason to believe. Of
this early time some architectural monuments still remain,
as the two temples in Ortygia, one of which is now the
metropolitan church, and the small remain's of the Oljmi-
pieum or temple of Zeus in Polichne, — aU of course ifl the
ancient Doric style.
The second period of Syracusan history, which roughly
'begins with the 5th century, is far better ascertained. It
is a period of change in every way. The aristocratic com-
monwealth becomes in turn a tyranny and a democracy ;
and Syracuse becomes the greatest Greek city in Sicily, the
mistress of other cities, the head of a great dominion, —
for a moment, of the greatest dominion in Hellas. Strange
to say, all this growth begiris in subjection to the ruler of
another city, Hippocrates, tyrant of Gela, held the chief
power in eastern Sicily at the beginning of the 5th century
B.C. (498-491). He threatened Syracuse as well as other
cities, and it was delivered only by the joint intervention
of Corinth and Corcyra, and by the cession of the vacant
tefritory of Camarina. In 485 the Syracusan StJ/xos or
plebs joined with the Sicel serf population to drive out .the
gamoroi, the ruling oligarchs. These last craved help of
Gelon, the successor of JHippocrates, who took possession
of Syracuse without opposition, and made it the seat of his
power. Syracuse now grew by the depopulation of other
cities conquered by Gelon. He gave citizenship both to
mercenaries (Diod., xi. 73) and to settlers from old Greece
(Paus., V. 27, 16, 17; Pbd., Olymp., vi.), so that Syracuse
became a city of mingled race, in which the new citizens
had the advantage. The town spread to the mainland :
the new town of Achradina, with separate fortifications,
arose on the eastern part of the adjoining peninsula (Diod.,
xi. 73), while Ortygia became the inner city, the stronghold
of the ruler. Indeed in the fonn of unwalled suburbs the
city seema to have spread even beyond Achradina (Diod.,
xL 61, 68, 72). Gelon's general rule was mUd, and he woa
fame as the champion of Hellas by his great victory over
the Carthaginians at Himera. He b said to have been
greeted as king ; but he does not seem to have taken the
title in any formal way.
Gelon's brother and successor Hiero (478-467) kept up
the power of the city ; he won himself a name by his
encouragement of poets and philosophers; and his Pythian
and Olympian victories made him the special subject of
the songs of Pindar. He -afipeared also as a Hellenic
champion in -the defence of Cumae, and he attempted to
found a Syracusan colony on the island of j^naria, now
Ischia. But his internal government, unlike that of Gelon,
was suspicious, greedy, and cruel. After some family dis-
putes the power passed to his brother Thrasybulus, wh6
was driven out next year by a general rising (see Sicily,
p. 16). In this revolution Thrasybulus and his mercen-
aries held the fortified quarters of Ortygia and Achradina;
the revolted people held the unwalled suburbs, already, it
is plain, thickly inhabited. Thrasybulus yielded to the
common action of Siceliots and Sicels. Syracuse again
became a free commonwealth, and, as the efiect of the
tyranny had been to break down old distinctions, it was
now a democratic commonwealth. Eenew,ed freedom waA
celebrated by a colossal statue of Zeus Eleutherius and by
a yearly feast in his honour. But when the mercenaries
and other new settlers were shut out from ofiice^ new
struggles arose. The mercenaries again held Ortygia and
Achradina. The people now walled in the suburb of Tyche
to the west of Achradina (Diod., xi. 73). The mercenaries
were at last got rid of in 461. Although we hear of
attempts to seize the tyranny and of an institution called
petalism, like the Athenian ostracism, designed to guard
against such dangers, popular government was not seriously
threatened for more than fifty years. The part of Syracuse
in general Sicilian affairs has been traced in the article
Sicily {q.v.) ; but one striking scene is wholly local, when
the defeated Ducetius took refuge in the hostile city (451),
and the common voice of the people bade ' " spard the
suppliant." We have but one solitary notice of the great
military and naval strength of Syracuse in 439 (Diod., xiL
30). Yet all that we read of Syracusan military and naval
action during the former part of the Athenian siege shows
how Syi-acuse had lagged behind the cities of old Greece,
constantly practised as they were in warfare both by land
and sea.
The Athenian siege (415-413) is of the deepest importance
for the topography of Syracuse, and it throws some light on
the internal politics. HermOcrates, the best of counsellors
for external affairs, is suspected, and seemingly with reason,
of -disloyalty to the democratic constitution. Yet he is,
like Nicjas and Phocion, the ofiicial man, head of a board
of fifteen generals, which he persuades the people to cut
down to three. Athenagoras, the demagogue or opposition
speaker, has the best possible exposition of democratic
principles put into his mouth by Thucydides (vi. 36-40).
Through the whole siege ^ there was a treasonable party
within the city, which — for what motive we are not told —
kept up a correspondence with the besiegers.
The speech of Athenagoi'as is that of a very clever demagogue ;
it sums up very forcibly all that can be said against oligarchy, and
it may have been perfectly sincere. But his views were overruled,
and preparation was made in earnest for the city's defence. When
the Athenian fleet under Nicias and Lamachus was at Rhegium in
Italy, the question for the commanders was whether they should
seek to strengthen themselves by fresh aJJiances on the spot or
strike the blow' at once. Lamachus was for immediate action, and
there ca» hardly be a doubt that Syracuse must have fallen before
a "Sudden attack by so formidable an armament in the summer of
' Diod., xi. 11, cf. Arirt., Pol, v. 3, 10, and Grote's note, v. 319.
* The chief authorities for the siege are Thucydides (bks. vl. and viL),
•Diodorua (bk. xiii.), and Plutarch, Lije of Hiaas.
SYRACUSE
815
415. The Syracusans were neither at uaity among themselves nor
by any means adequately prepared for effectual defence. Through-
out the whole struggle it is perfectly clear that they owed their
final deliverance to the most extraordinary good fortune. Athens
had the prize within her grasp, and she lost it wholly through the
persistent dilatoriness and blundering of her general, the desfwnd-
ing, vacillating Nicias. It was at his advice that the summer and
autumn of 415 were frittered away and the siege not begun till the
spring of 414. By that time the Syracusans were bott in better
spirits and better prepared : their ti-oops were better organized, and
they had built a wall from the Great Harbour to Panagia so a.s to
screen them from attack on the side of EpipolSe on the north-
west. The effect of this was to bar the enemy's approach and push
back his blockading lines, which had to be carried over an incon-
veniently large extent of ground. The Syracusans had been at first
thoroughly cowed ; but they were cowed no longer, and they even
plucked up courage to sally out and fight the enemy on the high
ground of Epipolae. They were beaten and driven back ; but at
the suggestion of Hermocrates they carried a counter-work up the
slope of Epipoh-B, which, if completed, would cut in two the
Athenian lines and frustrate the blockade. At this point Nicias
showed considerable military skill. The Syracusans' work was
destroyed by a prompt and well-executed attack ; and a second
counter-work carried across marshy ground some distance to the
south of Epipoloe and near to the Great Harbour was also demolished
after a sharp action, in which Lamachus fell. However, the blockade
on the land side was now almost complete, and the Athenian fleet
bad at the same time entered the Great Harbour. The citizens
began to think of surrender, and Nicias was so confident that he
neglected to push his advantages. He left a gap in his lines at
the point where Epipola slopes down to the sea, and he onlitted to
occupy an important position on its north-western ridge, known
as Euiyalus, a pass which commanded on this side the approach to
the city from the interior.
The second act of the di'ama may be said to open with the irre-
trievable blunder of Nicias in letting the Spartan Gylippus ftrst
land in Sicily, and then march at the head of a small army, partly
levied on the spot, across the island, and enter Syracuse by way
of Epipolae, through the Euryalus pass. Gylippus was felt to be
the representative of Sparta, and of the Peloponnesian Greeks
generally, and his arrival inspired the Syracusans with the fullest
confidence. Just before his arrival a few ships from Corinth had
made their way into the harbour with the news that a great fleet
was already on its way to the relief of the city. The tables were
now completely turned, and we hear of nothing but defeat and
disaster for the besiegers till their final overthrow. The military
skill of Gylippus enabled the Syracusan militia to meet the Athenian
troops on equal terms, to wrest from them their fortified position
on Plemmyrium, and to reduce them to such a plight tliat, as
Nicias said in his despatch to Athens towards the close of 414,
they were themselves besieged rather than besieging. In the
spring of the following year Syracuse once again gave herself up
for lost, when seventy-three warships from Athens, under Demo-
sthenes, entered the harboiu: with a large force of heavy infantry
and light troops. Demosthenes decided at once to make a grand
attack on Epipolx, with a view to recovering the Athenian block-
ading lines and driving the Syracnsans back within the city walls.
The assault was made by night, by the uncertain light of the moon,
and this circumstance turned what was very nearly a successful
surprise into a ruinous defeat. The affair seems to have been well
planned up to a certain point, and well executed ; but the Athenian
van, flushed with a first success, their ranks broken and disordered
by a pursuit of the enemy over rough ground, were repulsed with
great loss by a body of heavy armed Bceotians, and driven back in
disorder. The confusion spread to the troops behind them, and
the action ended in a wild flight through tlie narrow roads and
passes of Enipol^. The army was now thoroughly out of heart,
and Demostnenes was for at once breaking U]) the camp, embarking
the troops, and sailing back to Athens. But Nicias could not
bung himself to face the Athenian people at home, nor could he
be prevailed on to retire promptly to some position on the coast,
such as Catana or Tliapsus, where the army would be at least able
to maintain itself for a time. He dallied till the end of August,
many wetka after the defeat, and on the 27th of that month was
on eclipse of the moon, on the strength of which he insisted on a
delay of a!i;iost (mother month. His fleet too lingered uselessly in
the harbour, till, after a frantic effort to break out and a desperate
conflict, it was utterly defeated and half destroyed The broken
and demoralized anny, its ranks thinnod by fever and siekneos, at
last began its hopeless retreat in the face of the numerous Syra-
cusan cavalry, and, after a few days of dreadful sulferinc, was forced
to lay down its arms. The Syracusans sullicl the glory of their
triumph by huddling their prisoners into t'lcir stone quarries, — a
living death, dragged out, tor some of them at Icnat, to the space
of seventy days.
Her great deliverance and victory naturaliy stirred up
the energies of Syracuse at home and abroad. Syracusan
ships under Hermocrates now play a not unimportant
part in the warfare between Sparta and Athens on the
coast of Asia. Under the influence of Diocles the consti-
tution became a still more confirmed democracy, some at
least of the magistracies being filled by lot, as at Athens
(Diod., xiii. 31, 35 ; Arist, Pol , v. 3-6). Diocles appears
also as the author of a code of laws of great strictness,
which was held in such esteem that later lawgivers v/ere
deemed only its erpoundera. • There seems no reason to
suppose, with Holm, an earlier lawgiver Diocles distinct
fiom the demagogue ; but the story of his death by his
own hand to pvmish a breach of his own law is, we may
suspect, a repetition of the story of Charondas (Diod., siii.
33 ; cf. xii. 19). Under these influences Hermocrates was
banished in 409 ; he submitted to the sentence, notwith-
standing the wishes of his army. He went back to Sicily,
warred with Carthage on his own account, and brought
back the bones of the unburied Syracusans from Himera,
but was still so dreaded that the people banished Diocles
without restoring him. In 407 he was slain in an attempt
to enter the city, and with him was wounded one who was
presently to outstrip both nvals.
This was Diouysius, son of another Hermocrates, and an
adherent of the aristocratic party, but soon afterwards a
demagogue, though supported by some men of rank, among
them the historian Philistus (Diod., xiii. 91, 92). By
accusing the generals engaged at Gela in the war against
Carthage, by obtaining the restoration of exiles, by a variety
of tricks played at Gela itself, he secured his own electioo,
first as one of the generals, then as sole general (or with
a nominal colleague) with special powers. He next, by
another trick, procured from a military assembly at Leon-
tini a vote of a bodyguard ; he hired mercenaries and in
406-5 came back to Syracuse as tyrant of the city (Diod.,
xiii. 91-96). Dionysius kept his po'^er till his death thirty-
eight years later (367). But it was wellnigh overthrown
before he had fully grasped it. His defeat before Gela (see
Sicily, p. 18) was of coiu-se turned against him. His
enemies in the army, chiefly the horsemen, reached Syracuse
before him, plundered his house — he had not yet a fortress
— and horribly maltreated his wife, but they took no politi-
cal or military steps against himself. He came and took
his vengeance, slaying and driving out his enemies, who
established themselves at Mina, (Diod, xiii. 113). This
revolution and the peace with the C-arthaginians confirmed
Dionysius in the possession of Syracuse, but of no great
territory beyond, as Leontini was again a separate city.
It left Syracuse the one great Hellemc city of Sicily,
which, however enslaved at homo, was at least inde-
pendent of the barbarian. Dionysius was able, like Gelon,
though with less success and less honour, to take up the
part -if the champion of Hellas.
During the long tyranny of Dionysius the city grew greatly in
size, population, and gi-andeur. Plato says {Epist., vii. ) that ho
gathered all Sicily into it In fact the free Greek cities and com-
munities, in both Sicily and southern Italy, were sacrificed to
Syracuse ; there the greatness and glory of tluj Crock world in the
West were concentrated The mass of the population of Gela and
Caniarina in the disastrous year 405 h.ad, at the promiiting of
Dionysius, taken refuge at ^racuso Gela hnd in the previous
year received the fugitive inhabitants of Acragas (Agrigcntuni),
which had been sacked by the CJirthnginians. - Syracuse thus
absorbed three of the chief Greek cities of Sicily. It rcceivc-d largo
accessions from some of the Cnek cities of southern Italy, from
Hipponium on its west and Caulouia on its cant coast, Iwth of
which Oionysius captured in 3S9 mc. There had also bii n nn
influx of free citirena from Rhcgiura. At the time of the Athenian
siege Syracuse consisted of two <iuarler»—tlic Island and the "outer
city" of Thucydides, ginerally known as Achradiiia, and bounded
by the sea on the north and cast, with the adjoining fcuburb of
Apollo Tcincnites farther inland at the' foot of the Kouthcru slopes
of Epipola;. With the vast iBcreoso in iU populaticn. it now grew
816
SYRACUSE
into a city of four quarters. The suburb Temenites was expanded
into Ncapolia (New Town), spreading over the adjoining slopes.
A district stretching down to the sea, to the north-west of Achra-
dina, was taken in, and subsequently enlarged into a separate
fortified town. Tyche {Tixv) was the name given to this quarter,
according to Cicero {In Verr., iv. 52, 53) from an old temple of
Fortune somewhere within its limits,— a fact which seems to indi-
cate that the spot must have been inhabited in very early times.
But of this Thucydides says nothing, and his silence on a point
which would have naturally entered into his description of the
Athenian blockading operations is somewhat perplexing. This
quarter was in Cicero's time the most populous part of the entire
city ; it was practically secured by the new city walls, which were
drawn inland in a triangular form so as to enclose the hill of
Epipola;, the apex of the triangle being the fortress of Euryalus,
the remains of which are said to be the most perfect existing
specimen of ancient fortification. Syracuse was now secure on the
land side. The Island (Ortygia) had been provided with its own
defences, converted in fact into a separate stronghold, with a fort
to serve specially as a magazine of com, and with a citadel or
acropolis which stood apart, and might be held as a last refuge.
Dionysius, to make himself perfectly safe, drove out a number of
the old inhabitants and turned the place into barracks for his
soldiers, he himself living in the citadel. For any unpopularity
he may have thus incurred he seems to have made up by his great
works for the defence of the city ; th«se were executed under the
direction of the most skilful engineers, and are said to have found
' employment for 60,000 men. The new lines covered an extent of
3J miles, and were constructed of huge well-cut blocks of stone
from the neighbouring quarries. Each quarter of the city had its
own distinct defences, aqd Syracuse was now the most splendid
and the best fortified of all Greek cities. Its naval power, too,
was vastly increased ; the docks were enlarged ; and 200 new
warships were built. Besides the triremes, or vessels with three
banks of oars, we hear of quadriremes and quinqueremes with four
and five banks of oars,— larger and taUer and more massive ships
than had yet been used in Greek sea warfare. .The fleet of
Dionysius was the most powerful in the Mediterranean. It was
doubtless fear and hatred of Carthage, from which city the Greeks
of Sicily had suffered so much, that urged the Syracusans to
acquiesce in the enormous expenditure which they must have
incuiTed under the rule of Dionysius. Much too was done for the
beauty of the city as well as for its strength and defence. Several
new temples were built, and gymnasia erected outside the walls
near the banks of the Anapus (Diod., xv. 13).
Dionj- "Fastened by. chains of adamant" was the boastful
sins the phrase in which Dionysius described his empire ; but
Younger, m^^gp hjg gon, the younger Dionysius, an easy, good-
natured, unpractical man, a sort of cleverish dilettante,
a reaction set in amongst the restless citizens of S3fracuse,
■which, with its vast and mixed population, must have
been full of elements of turbulence and faction. But the
burdensome expenditure of the late reign would be enough
to account for a good deal of discontent. ' A remarkable
man now comes to the front, -^Dion, the friend and
disciple of Plato, and for a time the trusted political
adviser of Dionysius, whom -he endeavoured to impress
with a conviction of the infinite superiority of free and
popular government to any form of tjrranny or despotism.
Dion's idea seems to have been to make Dionysius some-
thing like a constitutional sovereign, and with this view
he brought him into contact with Plato. All went well
for a time ; but Dionysius had those about him who
were opposed to any kind of liberal reform, and the result
was the banishment of Dion from Syracuse as a dangerous
innovator. - Ten years afterwards, in 357, the exile entered
Achradina a victor, welcomed by the citizens as a deliverer
both of themselves and of the, Greeks of Sicily generally.
As yet, however, this was the only patt of the city gained.
A siege and blockade, with confused fighting and alternate
victory and defeat, and all the horrors of fire and slaughter,
followed, till Dion made himself master of the mainland
city. Ortygia, however, was still Held by Dionysius ; but,
provisions failing, it also was soon surrendered. Dion's
rule lasted only three years, for he perished in 354 by
the hand of a Syracusan assassin.. It was, in fact, after
all his professions, little better than a military despotism.
The tyrant's stronghold in the Island was left standing,
and Dion actually opposed a proposal for its destruction.
The man who won immense popularity by the proposal
was murdered, and Dion seems to have been an accomplice
in the crime.
Of what took place in Syracuse during the next ten
years we know but little. The younger Dionysius came
back and from his island fortress again oppressed the
citizens ; the plight of the city, torn by faction and
conflicts and plundered by foreign troops, was so utterly
wretched that aU Greek life seemed on the verge of
extinction (Plato, Epist, viii.). Sicily, too, was again
menaced by Carthage. Syracuse, in its extremity, asked
help from the mother-city, Corinth ; and now appears on,
the scene one of the noblest figures in Greek history,!
TmoLEON {q.v.). To him Syracuse owed her deliverance
from the younger Dionysius and from the rule of despots,
and to him both Syracuse and the Sicilian Greeks owed a
decisive triumph over Carthage and the safe possession of
Sicily west of the river Halycus, the largest portion of the
island. From 343 to 337 he was supreme at Syracuse,
with. the hearty goodwill of the citizens. The younger
Dionysius had been allowed to retire to Corinth ; his
island fortress was destroyed and replaced by a court of
justice. Syracuse rose again out of her desolation — grass,
it is said, grew in her streets — and, with an influx of a
multitude of new colonists from Greece and from towns of
Sicily and Italy, once more became a prosperous city.
Timoleon, having accomplished his work, accepted the
position of a private citizen, though, practically, to the
end of his life he was the ruler of the Syracusan people.
After his death (337) a splendid monument, with porticoes
and gymnasia surrounding it, known as the Timoleonteum,
was raised at the public cost to his honour.
In the interval of twenty years between the death of
Timoleon and ~the rise of Agathocles to power another
revolution at Syracuse transferred the government to an
oligarchy of 600 leading citizens. All we know, is the
bare fact. It was shortly after this revolution, in.
317, that Agathocles with a body of mercenaries from
Campania and a host of exiles from the Greek cities,
backed up by the Carthaginian Hamilcar, who was in
friendly relations with the Syracusan oligarchy, bscamo
tyrant or despot of the city, assuming subsequently, on
the strength of his successes against Carthage, the title
of king. Syracuse passed through another reign of terror ;
the new despot proclaimed himself the champion of popu-
lar government, and had the senate and the heads of the
oligarchical party massacred wholesale. This man of
blood seems to have had popular manners, and to have
known how to flatter and cajole, for a unanimous vote
of the people gave him absolute control over the fortunes
of Syracuse. His wars in Sicily and Africa left him
time to do something for the relief of the poorer
citizens at the expense of the rich, as well as to erect
new fortifications and public buildings ; and under his
strong government Syracuse seems to have been at least
quiet and orderly. After his death in 289 comes another
miserable and obscure period of revolution and despotism,
in which Greek life was dying out ; and but for the brief
intervention of Pyrrhus in 278 Syracuse, and indeed all
Sicily, would have fallen a prey to the Carthaginians.
A better time began under Hiero II., who had fought
under Pyrrhus and who rose from the rank of general of
the Syracusan army to be tjrant — king, as he came to be
soon styled — about 270. During his reign of over fifty
years, ending probably in 216, Syracuse enjoyed tran-
quillity, and seems to have grown greatly in wealth and
population. Hiero's rule was kindly and enlightened,
combining good order with a fair share of liberty and self-
government. His financial legislation was careful and con.
SYRACUSE
817
siderate ; his laws ^ as to the customs and fhe com tithes
tvere accepted and maintained under the Roman govern-
ment, and one of the many bad acts of the notorious Verres,
according to Cicero, was to set them aside (Cic, In, Verr., ii.
13; iii. 8). It was a time too for great public works, —
works for defence at the entrance of the Lesser Harbour
between the Island and Achradina, and temples and gj'm-
r.asia. Hiero through his long reign was the staunch
friend and ally of Kome in her struggles with Carthage ;
but his paternal despotism, nnder which Greek life and
:ivilization at Syracuse had greatly flourished, was un-
fortunately succeeded by the rule of a man who wholly
reversed his policy.
Hieronymus, the grandson of Hiero, thought fit to ally
timseK with Carthage ; he did not live, however, to see
the mischief he had done, for he fell in a conspiracy which
lie had wantonly provoked by his arrogance and cruelty.
There was a fierce popular outbreak and more bloodshed :
the conspirators were put to death and Hiero's family
' was murdered; whilst the Carthaginian faction, under the
pretence of delivering the city from its tyrants, got the
upper hand and drew the citizens into open defiance of
Rome. Marcellus was then in command of the Roman
army in Sicily, and he threatened the Syracusans with
attack unless they would get rid of Epicydes and Hippo-
crates, the heads of the anti-Roman faction. Epicydes
did his best to stir up the citizens of Leontini rgainst
Rome and the Roman party at Syracuse. Marcellus there-
fore struck his first blow at Leontini, which was quickly
stormed ; and the tale of the horrors of the sack was at once
carried to Syracuse and roused the anger of its population,
who could not but sympathize with their near neigh-
bours, Greeks like themselves. The general feeling was now
against any negotiations with the Roman general, and, put-
ting themselves under Epicydes and Hippocrates, they
;e by closed their gates on him. Marcellus, after an unsucessful
■'='''" attempt to negotiate, began the siege in regular form (214
B.C.) by both land and sea, establishing a camp on Polichne,
where stood the old temple of Olympian Zeus ; but he
made his chief assault on the northern side and on the
defences of Tyche, particularly at the Hexapylum, the
entrance facing Megara and Leontini. His assault sea-
wards was made mainly on Achradina, but the city was
defended by a numerous soldiery and by what seem to
have been still more formidable, the ingenious contrivances
of Archimedes, whose engines dealt havoc among the Roman
ships, and frustrated the attack on the fortifications on the
northern slopes of Epipolse (Liv., xxiv. 34). Marcellus
had recourse to a blockade, but Carthaginian vessels from
time to time contrived to throw in supplies. At length
treachery began to work within. Information was given
bim in the spring of 212 (two years from the commence-
ment of the siege) that the Syracusans were celebrating a
great festival to Artemis; making use of this opportunity,
lie forced the Hcxapylum entrance by night and established
himself in Tyche and on the heights of Epipolaj. The
strong fortress of Euryalus held out for a time, but, being
now isolated, it soon had to surrender. The " outer " and
the " inner city " of Thucydidos still held out, whilst a
Carthaginian fleet was riioored off Achradina and Cartha-
ginian troops were encamped on the spot. But a pesti-
lence broke out in the autumn of 212, which swept them
clean away, and thinned the Roman ranks. Tiio ships
sailed away to Carthago ; on their way back to Syracuse
with supplies they coidd not get beyond Capo Pachynus
owing to adverse winds, and they were confronted by a
Roman fleet. All hope for tlw city being now at an end,
the Syracusans threw themselves on the mercy of Mar-
' The laws of Hiero ore oftea mentioned with approval in Cicero's
speeches apainst V rres-
22—29
cellus ; but Achradina and the Island still held out for a
brief space under the Syracusan mercenaries, till ono of
their officers, a Spaniard, betrayed the latter position to
the enemy, and at the same time Achradina was carried
and taken. Marcellus gave the city up to plunder (Liv.,
XXV. 31), and the art treasures ^ in which it was so rich —
many of the choicest of them no doubt — were conveyed to
Rome. From this time art seems- to have become quite
fashionable in certain Roman circles. Archiinedes perished
in the confusion of the sack, while he was calmly pursuing
his studies (Liv., xxv. 31).
Syracuse was nov simply one of the provincial cities o(
Rome's empire, and its history is henceforward merged in
that of Sicily. It retained irruch of its Greek character
and many of its finest public, buildings, even after the
havoc wrought by JIarcellus. Its importance and historic
associations naturally marked it out as the residence of
the Roman praetor or governor of Sicil}'. Cicero often
speaks of it as a particularly S[:lendid and beautiful city,
as still in his own day the seat of art and culture' {Tusc,
V. 66 ; Be Dear. Nat., iii. 81 ; De Rep., i. 21), and in his
speeches against Verres (iv. 52, 53) he gives an elaborato
description of its four quarteis (Achradina, Neapolis,
Tyche, the Island), or rather thii four cities which com-
posed it, It seems to have sufi^'ired in the civil wars at
the hands of Sextus Pompeius, the son of the triumvir,
who for a short time was master of Sicily ; to repair the
mischief, new settlers were sent by Augustus in 21 B.C.,
and established in the Island and in the immediately ad-
joining part of Achradina (Strabo, vi. 270, ed. Kramer).
It is in these districts that the reraains of Roman works —
of amphitheatres and other public buildings — are mainly
to be traced. We hear nothing of any importance about
Syracuse during the period of the empire. It had its own
senate and its own magistrates.* (^aius Caligula restored
its decayed walls and some of its famous temples (Sue-
tonius, Caius, 21). Tacitus, in a passing mention of it
{Ann., xiiL 49), says that permission was granted to the
Syracusans under Nero to exceed the prescribed number
of gladiators in their shows. Hence the city by that time
must have been provided with an amphitheatre. In the
4th century it is named by the poet Ausonius in his Ordo
Nobilium Urhium, chiefly, perhaps, on the strength of its
historic memories.
Modern Syracuse is confined to the island of Ortygia, and is only Uoilcit
about 2J miles in circumference. The island is irregularly oval town,
in shape, and extends from north to south on the east side of 4ho
fine natural harbour, the Porto Grande (Macpms Partus). On tho
north it is connected with thfl mainland by a dyke or narrow
isthmus, and between tho southern extremity and the opposite
peninsula of Massolivicri, the ancient PlemmjTium, there is a
stretch of 1300 yards, forming the entrance to the harbour. Tho
approach to the town from tno mainland is defended by a dilapi-
dated citadel of the time of Charles V., aid the southern extremity
is occupied by a castle named after George Maniaces, the last
Byzantine general by whom it was held in the 11th century before
it fell into the hands of tho Saracens. The town is fin ther de-
fended by walls with bastions. Tlic streets are in general narrow,
and their chief feature consists in their numerous convents with
wooden-latticed windows. Ono tolerably wide and handsome street
crosses the island from east to west. Besides tlie fortilieations, tho
principal objects of interest are the cathedral of Santa Mari.i dello
Colonne (tho ancient temple of Minerva), adjoining which is tho
nrchicpiscopal residence; the arcliocological museum, tho finest
works preserved in which aio a statue of Venus in Parian marblo
and a colossal hood of Zeus ; and the fountain of Arcthusa, which
still bubbles up as clear and abundant as ever on tho west side of
the island. Its waters, however, arc no longer drinkable, an earth-
quake in 1170 having allowed tho sea water to become mingled
with them. From the neighbourhood of this fountain o favourito
promenade extends northwards along tho shore of the Porto Graiido.
Syracuse has been a place of little importance since the yonr 878,
when it was destroyed by the Saracens under Ibrahim ibn Aliniod.
• Statues and pictures are particulariied by Livy, xxv. 40.
' The poets Theocritus and Monctma were Syracusans.
* Local self.govcninient, in foct, like most of tlio Greek cillca.
818
S Y R — S Y R
Since that date the mainland portion of the city has nev^ r heen
rebuilt. Syracdse is tlie seat of an archbishop, and since 1865 has
been '.ne capital of a province, which takes its name from the town.
The inhabitants manufacture drugs and other chemical articles,,
earthenware, &c., and carry on a considerable trade, principally in
wine. In 1SS5 785 vessels of 21,818 tons entered tlie port and
778 vessels of 21,480 ton; cleared. At S^Tacuse Admiral de Ruyter
died in 1676 after his defeat by the French at Agosta. The nopu-
lation in 1881 was 21,157.
See Hare, Cities of Southern Italy and Sicily (London, 1SS3).
SYRACUSE, a city of the United States, the county
seat of Onondaga county, New York, 1-48 miles west of
Albany, midway between that city and Buffalo. Syracuse
is situated near the southern end of Onondaga Lake (5
miles long by 1 broad), whose waters flow northwards
through Seneca and Oswego rivers into Lake Ontario at
Oswego. The Erie Canal, flowing east and west, joins
the Oswego Canal within the city. Syracuse contains
.several handsome public buildings,' — the county court-
house, the United States Government building, the city-
hall, the State asylum for idiots,' the Onondaga peni-
tentiary, the county orphan asylum, the asylum of St
Vincent de Paul, the high school (containing the central
library of 15,000 volumes)", a State armoury, Ac. Syra-
cuse is the seat of a (Methodist) university, founded
in 1870 and consisting of a college of the liberal arts,
a college of the fine arts, and a college of physicians and
surgeons^ The salt industry, to which Syracuse owed
much of its early prosperity, is still the staple; the springs
situated near the southern end of Lake Onondaga, which
appears to be the remains of a once very extensive basin,
have been under State control since 1797. Previous to the
opening of the Michigan springs they were the largest in
the United States, and they still yield on an average
from_ 7,000,000 to 8,000,000 bushels of salt per annum.
Rolling-mills, furnaces, steel-works, glass-works, breweries,
and-manufactories of barrels, agricultural machinery, and
clothing are among the secondary industrial establishments.
At the completion of the Erie Canal in 1825 Syracuse had
only 300 inhabitants; by 18)55 they were 25,107, and in
jl860, 1870, and 1880 respectively they numbered 28,119,
43,051, and 51,792 ; in 1886 the number had risen to
81,000, including some adjacent villages recently annexed.
By some investigators it is believed that Lake Onondaga was De
Soto's " silver-bottomed " lake. The great tribal fortress of the
Onondagas on the east side of the lake near the spot no\y occupied
^ by Liverpool was attacked without success by Champlain in 16:5.
The first liouse on the site" of Syracuse was built in 1805. The
village, to which the name of Syracuse had been given in 1824, was
incorporated in 1825, and the city in 1847.
SYR-DARIA(Gr. and Lat. Jaxarfes ; Arab. Skash or
Sihm), a river flowing into the Sea of Aral, and having a
length of 1500 miles and a drainage area of about 320,000
square miles. Incertitude as to its source prevailed until
the recent occupation of Turkestan, by the Russians. It
has now been traced to the Naryn, which has its sources
in the heart of °the Tian-Shan' complex, some 30. miles
south of Lake Issik-kul, in -the elevated vaUeyg or sp-ts
(12,000 feet) on the southern slope of the Terskei Ala-tau.
Here under the name of Jaak-tash the river takes its rise
amid mountain scenery of the wildest description, partly
from the marshy mountain plateaus by which the " Warm
Lake " is also fed, and partly from the immeiise glaciers
of thedark and barren Ak-shiriyak ■ Mountains (Petroff
and Sir-tash glaciers). After its union with another
mountain stream, the Barskaun, it is called the Taragai,
and flows west-south-west at from 11,000 to 10,000 feet
above the sea, in a barren longitudinal valley between the
Terskei Ala-tan and the foothills of the lofty Kokshal-tau.
On entering a wild narrow gorge driven from west to east
through the south-west continuation of the Terskei
Mountains (Samatyn-tau) it receives, the n.ame of Naryn.
Through this gorge it descends by a series of rapids from
the heights of the mountain massif to a deep valley of the
alpine region, its level at its issue from the gorge being
reduced by fully 4000 feet : Fort Narynsk, 20 miles below
the junction of the Great and the Little Naryn, is only
Map ' of Syr-Daria.
6800 feet above the sea. Here the river enters a broad
valley — formerly the bottom of an alpine lake — and flows
past the ruins of Fort Kurtka, for' 90 miles westward,
as a stream some 50 yards wide and from 3 to 11 feet
deep. Its waters are utilized for irrigating Kirghiz corn-
fields, which contrast strangely with the barren aspect of
the lofty treeless mountains. The Atpasha — a large
mountain stream — joins the Naryn at the head of this
valley and the Atabuga at its lower end, both from the
left. Before reaching the lowlands, the Naryn crosses
three ridges separating the valley of Kurtka from that
of Ferghana, by a series of wild gorges and broad valleys
(170 miles), representing the bottoms of old lakes; the
Togus-torgau, 2000 feet lower than Kurtka, and the
Ketmen-tube are both covered with Kirghiz corn-fields.
Taking a wide sweep towards the north, the river enters
Ferghana — also the bottom of. an immense lake — where,
after joining the Kara-Daria (Black river) near Namangan,
it receives the name of Syr-Daria.^ The Kara-Daria is a
mighty stream rising in the north-eastern spurs of the
Atai Moimtains. As it deflects the Naryn towards the
west again, the natives consider it the chief branch of the
SjT-Daria, but its volume is much smaller. At the cott-
fluence the Syr is 1440 feet above sea-level.
The waters of the Syr-Daria and its tributaries are in
this part of its course largely absorbed by numberless
canals for irrigation. _ It is to the Syr that Ferghana is
indebted for its high, if somewhat exaggerated, repute in
Central Asia as a rich garden and granary ; cities like
Kliokand, IMarghilan, and Namangan, and more than
800,000 inhabitants of the former khanate of Khokand,
live by its waters. Notwithstanding this drain upon it,
the Syr could be easily navigated, were it not for the
Bigovat rapids at Irdjar, at the lower end of the valley,
where the river finds its way to the Aral-Caspian deserts
by piercing a depression of the Mogol-tau.
On issuing from this gorge the Syr enters the Aral de-
pression, and flows for 850 miles in a north-westerly and
northerly direction before reaching the Sea of Aral. On
this section it is navigated by st( amers. Between the Ird-
jar rapids and Baitdyr-turgai (whi re it bends north) the Syr
flows along the base of the mountain ridges which girdle
the Tchotkat Mountains (see below) on the north-west,
and receives from the longitudinal valleys of these alpine
tracts a series of tributaries (the Angren, the Tchirtchik,
the Keles), which in their lower courses fertilize the wide
plains of loess extending from the right bank of the Syr.
These plains and their rich supply of water have been the
' Reduced from MushketofT's' "Geological Maj) ot the Turkestau
Basin," in his Turkestan (Russian), 1886, vol. i.
- K>yr and daria both signify "river,". in two different dialects.
SYR-DARIA
819
cause of an oasis of Moslem civilization developing between
the barren sands of the Aral depression and the mountain
tracts of the Tian-Shan. The Aflgren rises beneath the
highest parts of the Tchotkat range, and its valley is the
granary of the region. The Tchirtchik has its origin in
the Borotday Mountains at the junction of the Tchotkat
and the Pskem rivers, and at the point whero it issues
from the mountains it sends oiT the famous canal Zakh-
aryk; it flows past Tashkend along a valley 20 miles
wide, and joins the Syr a few miles below its confluence
with the Angren. The Keles comes from the Jity-su
Mountains and alsa brings a large volume of water for
irrigation. But owing to wars and continual insecurity
cities formerly important have now been abandoned ; and
near Tchinai, at the mouth of the Tchirtchik, are the ruins
of a large town formerly fortified with high walls, and of
aryks with manifold ramifications.
Some 50 miles below Tchinaz (770 feet above sea-level)
the Syr bends northwards, but resumes its north-westerly
course 150 miles farther down, following with remarkable
persistency the borders of the loess which fringes the moun-
tains. Its low banks, covered with rushes and rendered
uninhabitable in summer by clouds of mosquitoes, are in-
undated for 20 miles on both sides when the snows begin
to melt. These inundations prevent the moving sands
of the Kizil-kum desert from approaching the Syr ; below
Perovsk, however, .the^steppe gains the upper hand.
Down to Perovsk the river rolls its muddy yellow waters,
at the rate of 3 to 5 miles an hour, in a channel 300 to
600 yards wide and 3 to 5 fathoms deep ; at Perovsk its
vertical section is 8220 square feet, and 312,500 cubic
feet of water are discharged per^ second. The Arys and
the Bugun are the only tributaries worthy of notice on this
part of its course ; the other streams which descend from
the Kara-tau fail to reach the river. The Kungrad Kirghiz
rear numerous herds of cattle and sheep in the valley of
the Arys, while lower down, as far as Julek, thelgintchis
carry on agriculture. All this applies, of course, only to
the right bank ; on the left the moistness is absorbed by
the hot winds which cross the Kizil-kum sands towards
the river. The dryness of the atmosphere makes its
influence markedly felt on the Syr when it enters, below
Julek, a region where the Kara-kum sands extend on its
right. Ten miles below Perovsk the river traverses a
marshy depression — the bottom of a lake not yet fully
dried up — where it divides into two branches,— the Jaman-
daria and the Kara-uzyak. The latter spreads out in
marshes and ponds, from which it again issues to join
the former at Karmaktchi, after a course of 80 miles.
The main branch also, owing to its .shallowness and sinu-
osity, is very difficult to navigate, and this is increased by
the rapidity of the current and the want of fuel. Between
Kazalinsk and the Sea of Aral (158 feet) the navigation
becomes somewhat easier, except for the last 10 miles,
where the river divides into three shallow branches before
entering the "Blue Sea." All three have at their mouths
sandy bars with only 3 feet of water, which are often
forded by the Kirghiz.
Two former right-hand tributaries of tho Syr-^the Tchn and
the Sary-su — which now disappear in the eands aomo 60 miles
before reaching it, must bo mentioned. Tho Tcho, which is 600
miles in length, rises in the Tian-Shan to the south-west of Lake
Issilv-kul, and is made up of many streams, of which tho Kyz-art,
the Juvan-aiyk, and tho Koshkar are the more important. On
their union these form the Koslikar, which flows towards Lake
Issik-kul, but a few miles before reaching that lake turns suddenly
to the north-west, enters under tho name of Tchu tho naiTow gorge
of Buara, and, piercing the snow-clad Kunghci Ala-tau, emerges
on its northern slope, having descended from 6500 feet to less than
2000 in a course of not more than 60 miles. In this part of its
course it receives from tho right tho Kebin, whoso high valley
equals in size that of tho upper Kliono. It then flows northwest-
wards thrsugh the valley of Pishpek, and, avoiding the Muynn-kum
sands, describes a \ride curve to the north before finally taking a
western. direction. Numberless streams flow towards it from the
snow-clad Alexandrovsk Mountains, but they are for the most part
lost in tho sands before reaching it. The Tatas, 170 miles long,
formerly an affluent of the Tchu, which rises in the highest parts
of that range, pierces the Tcha-archa Mountains, and, flowing past
Aulie-ata on the south border of the Muyun-kum, enters the salt
lake Kara-kul 60 miles from the Tchu. The Tchu reaches tho
Saumal-kul group of lakes, 60 miles from the Syr, in the form of
marshes with undefined channels. Another elongated group of
lakes — the Uzun-kul — near the above and 50 miles from Perovsk,
receives the Sary-su, which has a length of nearly 6/0 nules, and
flows rapidly in a narrow channel along the west borders of the
northern Famine Steppe (Bekpak-dala).
The delta of the Syr at present begins at Perovsk, whence it sends
a branch to the south-west, the Yany-daria (Jany-daria or New-
river), which formerly reached tho south-eastern comer of the Sea
of Aral, very near the mouth of the Amu-daria. The Kirghiz
affirm that a canal dug for irrigation by the Karakalpaks gavo
origin to this river. It had, however, but a temporary existence.'
A dam erected by the Khokandese at Ak-metchet (Perovsk) caused
its disappearance, and the Russians found but a dry bed in 1820.'
When tne dam was removed the Yany-daria again reappeared,'
but it failed to reach the Sea of Aral ; in 1853 it lost itself in
Lake Kutchka-denghiz, after a course of 250 miles ; all traces of its
bed were then lost in the sand. The Kirghiz legend can only bo
accepted, however, with very great caution -, the present writer is
inclined to think that the canal of the Karakalpaks was merely
intended to redirect the waters of the Syr into a channel which
existed of old, but had been dried up.' Certain it is that five
centuries ago, in the time of Timur, the Yany-daria brought the
waters of the Syr to the Dau-kara Lakes, close by the present mouth
of the Amu. The series of old beds in the Kizil-kum, which are
still seen above Perovsk, shows that the Syr had a constant
tendency to seek a channel to the south-west and that its present
delta is but a vestige of what it was in past times. At a still
more remote period this delta probably comprised all the space
between the Kara-tau and the Nura-tau ; and in the series of
elongated lakes at the base of the Nura-tau — tho Tiiz-kane and
Bogdan-ata Lakes — wa see an old branch of the delta of the Syr
which probably joined the Zerafshan before reaching the Amu.
The causes of this immense change are to be sought for simply in
the rapid desiccation of tho whole northern and central parts of
Asia, due to the fact that we are now living in the later phase of
the Lacustj&ie period, which has followed the Glacial period. Tho
extremery rapid desiccation of the Sea of Aral is proved even by
surveys a few decides old, and this process is but a trifle in com-
parison with tho changes which have taken place during the last five
centuries : the extension of tho Caspian Sea as far as the Sarakamysh
lakes during the Post-Pliocene period and_ the extension of tho Sea of
Aral at least 100 miles to the east of its present banks are both proved
by the presence of Post-Pliocene marine deposits. (P. A. K.)
SYK-DAKIA, or Sye-Dajiidjsk, a province of Russian
Turkestan, in Asia, comprising wide tracts of land on both
sides of the Syr-Daria river, from its entrance into the Sea
of Aral up to Khojend, where it issues from the mountain
region of the Tian-Shan. It is bounded on the N. by the'
Russian provinces of Turgai and Akmolinsk, on the E. by
Semiryetchensk and Ferghana (ex-khanato of Khokand),
on the S. by the district of Zerafshan, Bokhara^ and tho
Russian province of Amu-daria, and on the W. by tho Sea
of Aral. Its area (16G,000 square miles), its population
(more than one million inliabitants), and its cities (Tash-
kend, Khojend, Jizak, <S.'c.) make it the most important
province of Russian Turkestan ; and from its position
between the mountain region of Central Asia and tho
great lake of the west Asian depression it is a region of
deep interest for tlie geographer and geologist.
The south-eastern border of the province runs along tho
lofty Tchotkat Mountains. This chain, which scimrates
the river Tchotkat from tho Naryn, and runs for more than
200 miles from south-west to north-east, joining Alexan-
drovsk Mountains on the cast, raises its snow-clad peaks
to an altitude of 14,000 feet. It diminishes in hciglit
towards thef south, not exceeding 7000 feet in the barren
Mogol-tau Mountain!?, but seems to bo continued to thf
south-west by tho Baisun-tau. A series of shorter chains—
' For tho old beds of tho Syr ond the Amu, sco Knulbars's "Loww
Viiiaot\,ho&.aiJi,"iaMcm.Ru3s.<Jtogr.Soc., riijs. Giolt., ix. (1881). »
820
SYR-DARIA
the Tatas Ala-tau, ttie Blshelik, the Badam Mountains, the
Kazyk-urt, and the Atj-m-tau — fringe the above on the
north-west, and occupy the south-east corner of Syr-Dari-
insk. The snowclad summits of the Tatas Ala-tau range
from 14,000 to 15,000 feet, and immense glaciers occur
about Manas Mountain. So far as our maps show, the range
seems to run from ■vrestsouth-west to east-north-east. The
other chains just mentioned have a decidedly south-westerly
direction, and are much lower, the outlying ranges having
rather the character of broad plateaus, above 2000 feet
in height, where the Kirghiz find excellent pasture grounds.
Some of them, such as the Kazyk-urt, rise as isolated
mountains from the steppe, and have therefore been called
Ararats. The Kara-tau is quite separate from the preceding
and runs at right angles to them — that is, from north-west
to south-east. It belongs therefore to another series of
upheavals which prevails in western Asia and to which
Richthofen has given the name of the " Kara-tau series."
Its length is about 270 miles, and its average height about
5000 feet, rising at some points to 6000 and 7000 feet.
It separates the Syr-Daria from the Tchu, and its gentle
south-western slope contains the sources of a multitude of
streams, which water the oasis around the town of Turke-
stan. Another range, having the same direction, from
north-west to south-east, touches the southern border of
Syr-Daria, namely, the Nura-tau (or Nuratyn-tau), also
called Turkestan Mountains, which lifts its icy peaks
(15,000 to 16,000 feet in height) abruptly from the steppe.
It separates Syr-Daria from Zerafshan, and the passes by
which it is crossed reach an altitude of from 10,000 to
13,000 feet. Finally, a few islands of metamorphic or
granitic rock, called Ararats by the natives, stand isolated
in the steppes.
The mountainous tracts occupy, however, only a small part of
Syr-Daria ; the rest of its wide surface is steppe. Three different
areas must be distinguished, — the Kizil-kura, the Muyun-kum or
Ak-kum, and the Kara-kum (" black sands," so called more from
their desert character than from their colour). The Kizil-kum (red
sands) is the most interesting.' These sands occupy the wide
stretch between the Amu and the S)t, and have a gradual ascent
from 160 feet at the Sea of Aral to 1500 and 2000 feet in the south-
east. They are covered with numerous folds or elongated dunes
(barkhans), partly shifting partly stationary, 30 to 60 feet high,
and mostly parallel to each other, amidst which are immense
spaces covered with clay, and saline clays appear here" and there
on the surface. The Kizil-kura varies much in its characteristics.
Close by the Sea of Aral it is covered mth shifting sands, the result
of the disintegration of cretaceous sandstones ; and every storm
raises clouds of hot sand which render communication exceedingly
difficult. But even there a rich verdure covers the undulations in
spring. Farther east the sands lose their shifting character, and
the barkhans are covered with a kind of Carex, which serves as
excellent food for sheep. The Holoxylon Anemvdendron grows
extensively on the elevated ridges and yields fuel and charcoal,
which last is exported to Bokhara. In the west the surface is
covered with remains of Aral-Caspian deposits. As the Tian-Shan
is approached the steppe takes another character: a thick covering
of loess girdles the foothills and forms the fertile soil to which
Turkestan is indebted for its rich fields and gardens.
The Kara-kum sands, situated to the north-east of the Sea of
Aral, are manifestly a former bottom of the lake. They are covered
with debris of Cardium edule, Mytihis, Drcisscna polymorpha^
Neritina UUurata, Adania vitrca, Bydrohia stagnalis, with remains
of marine Algm_ {Zostera), and with fragments of Scirpits and
Pbragmitcs. The Ki2il-kum is charaicterized by the presence of
Lilhoglyphus caspius, IT. stagnalis, Anodonta podervsa, and the
sponge Mdchnikowia tuberculata. The evil reputation of the
Kara-kum has been exaggerated to some extent ; the harsh things
said of it apply only to the neighbourhood of the Sea of Aral. In
the east the steppe has some vegetation and is readily visited by
the Kirghiz. The barkhans do not shift, being covered with Cal-
ligonum, Tamarix, Holoxylon Anemodejidron, and some rushes ;
".hifting dunes 40 to 50 feet high occur, especially towards the Sea
of Aral. The JIu)-un-kum or Ak-kum Steppe, between the Kara-tau
Mountains and the Tchu, is quite uninhabited, except in the loess
region at the northern base of the mountains.
Granites, granilites, syenites, porphyries, and various meta-
' Comp. J. Mushketoffs Turkestan, vol 1.
morphic slates constitute the bulk of tlie western Tian-Shan Mouii'
tains. They appear also in the Kara-tau and Nura-tau, and some-
times in the form of isolated islands in the steppe. Silver and leal
ores, as well as malachite and copper ore, are found in them, especially
in the llogol-tau, and turquoises about Khojend. The crystallino
rocks, much metamorphosed, especially in the west, are overlain by
thick Devonian and Carboniferous deposits. Jurassic rocks (Rhaetic)
cover small areas on the slopes of the mountains. These last are
all of fresh-water origin ; hence it would seem that throughout the
Jurassic and Triassic periods Turkestan was a continent intersected
only by lagoons of the Jurassic sea. The Jurassic deposits are most
important on account of their coal-beds, which occur in the basins
of the Badam and Sairam and in Ferghana. Chalk and Tertiary
marine deposits are superimposed upon the above to the thickness,
of 2000 to 5000 feet, and are widely spread, although they have
suffered greatly from denudation. The former.belong to the Upper
(Ferghana deposits, much resembling Senonian) and Middle Chalk,
and contain phosphorite, gj-psum, and naphtha (in the Amu-Daria
basin). The Tertiary deposits, which contain gypsum and lignite,
are represented by nummulitic sands around the Sea of Aral, and
by Oligocene and Miocene (Sarmatic) deposits. In the Tian-Shan
the red Tertiary conglomerates (Pliocene ?) attain a great develop-
ment. Throughout the Chalk and earlier Tertiary periods the
lowlands of Syr-Daria were under the sea. The character of the
region during the Post-Pliocene period remains unsettled. To what
extent the mountains of the western Tian-Shan were under ice
during the Glacial period remains a subject of controversy among
geologists ; many deposits, however, have been described, even in
the outer parts of mountain tracts, which have a decidedly Glacial
character. A girdle of loess, varying in width from 30 to 50 mUes,
encircles all the mountain tracts, increasing in extent in Bokhara
and at the lower end of the valley of Ferghana. It seems certain
that during the Lacustrine period the Caspian was connected by a
narrow gulf with the Aral basin, which was then much larger, while
another inland sea of great dimensions covered the present Balkash
basin, and at an earlier period may have been connected with the
Aral basin. Recent traces of these basins are found in the steppes.
The chief river of the province is the Str-Dakia (see above), with
its tributaries. The frontier touches the eastern shore of the Sea of
Aral, and numerous small lakes, mostly salt, are scattered over the
sandy plains. A few lakes of alpine character occur ia the valleys
of the hQly tracts.
The climate of Syr-Daria varies greatly in its different parts. It
is most severe in the high treeless syrts of the mountain region ;
and in the lowlands it is very hot and dry. As a whole, the western
parts of the Tian-Shan receive but little precipitation, and are
therefore very poor in forests. In the lowlands the heat of the
dry summer is almost insupportable, the thermometer rising to
111° Fahr. in the shade; the winter is severe in the lower parts ol
the province, where the Syr remains frozen for three months. The
average yearly temperature at Tashkend and Kazalinsk respectivelj
is 54° and 44° (January, 28° and 8° ; July, 80° and 76°).
The flora and fauna belong to two distinct regions, — to Turke-
stan and to the Aral-Caspian depression (see Turkestan). The ter-
races of loess mentioned above are alone available for culture, and
accordingly less than 1 per cent (0'8) of the total area of the pro-
vince is under crops, the remainder being either quite barren (57
per cent, of the surface) or pasture land (42 per cent.). Although
cultivation is possible only in a few oases, it is there carried to
great perfection owing to a highly developed system of irrigation, —
two crops being gathered every year. Wieat and barley come first,
then pease, millet, and lentils, which are gro^vn in the autumn. Kya
and oats are grown only about Kazalinsk. Cotton is cultivatedj
in the districts of Khojend, Kurama, and Turkestan. Gardening is
greatly developed. Sericulture is also an important source of
income, nearly 85 tons of silk being produced every year. Cattle-j
breeding is largely pursued, not only by the nomads but also by
the settled population, and in 1881 it was estimated that Syr-Daria
had 242,000 camels, 396,000 horses, 294,000 horned cattle, and
3,200,000 sheep. Fishing is pursued to some extent on the lower
Syr. Timber and firewood are exceedingly dear ; timber is floated
down from the mountains, but in small quantities ; trees raised in
gardens, dung, and some coal (the last in very liiuited quantity)L
are used for fuel.
The population of the province amounted to 1,109,500 in 1881, of
whom 146,300 lived in towns, 326,600 were settled, and 621,600
were nomadic. It is comparatively dense in certain parts, reaching
15 to 31 inhabitants per square mile in Kurama and Khojend, and
still more in the valley of the Tchirtchik. Its ethnographical com-
position is very mixed. The Russians barely number 8500, if the
military be left out of account ; they live principally in towns and
about Kazalinsk. Kirghiz (709,400 with the Kara-Kirghiz) and
Sarts (211,000) are the main elements of the population ; 50,000
Tadjiks, 26,000 Uzbegs, 4500 Tatars, about 77,000 Kuramint»
(settled Kirghiz mixed with other elements), and a few Jews,
Persians, and Hindus must be added. The chief occupations of
the Sarts, Uzbegs, Tadjiks, and Kuramints are agriculture and
S Y R — S Y R
821
gardening, while the Kirghiz chiefly lead a nomadic pastoral life.
Manufactures are represented by a few distilleries; but a great
variety of petty industries are practised in the towns and villages.
Trade is carried on very largely.
Syr-Daria is divided into eight districts, the chief towns of
which, with their populations in 1881, were — Tasuken'd (q.v.)
(100.000), Aulie-ata (4450), Jizak (8700), Kazalinsk(2950), Kliojend
(28,000), Perovsk (3400), Tchemkeiit (8050), and Tchiuaz (300).
Turkestan or Agret (6700) and Ura-tuba (11,000) also deserve
mention. (P. A. K.)
SYRIA. Etymologically, "Syria" is merely an abbre-
viation of "Assyria," a name whicb covered tlie subject-
lands of tbe Assyrian empire, the subject-peoples being also
called "Syrians." Afterwards, in the Grseco-Roman period,
the shorter ■\^ord came to be restricted to the territory
west of the Euphrates, — the designation "Syrians," how-
ever, being given to the great mass of the Semitic popu-
lations dwelling between the Tigris and the Mediterranean,-
who are more accurately called Aramaeans (Gen. x. 22 ;
comp. Semitic Languages, vol. xsi. p. 645 sq.). The
present article deals with Syria only in its geograjDhical
significance. For a map, see vol. xvi. pi. VIII.
Syria is the designation of the country which extends
for about 3S0 miles (between 36° 5' and 31° N. lat.) along
the eastern shore of the Mediterranean ; its eastern limit
properly speaking is formed by the middle portion of the
course of the Euphrates, but in point of fact it insensibly
merges into the steppe country which naturally belongs
more or less to Arabia. It is only the oases lying-dearest
the western border of the steppe (c.<;., Aleppo, Palmyra)
that can be reckoned as belonging to Syria.^ From time
immemorial th;; land between Egypt and the Euphrates
has been the battlefield for the empires of western Asia
on the one ban I and those of Egypt and Africa on the
other. It Las also been the territory which the trading
caravans of ther^ empires have had to traverse; and by its
position on the Mediterranean it has been the medium for
transmitting tha civilizing influences of the East to the
West and again of the West to the East. Hence it is easy
to understand how the peoples of Syria should only in
exceptional cases have played an independent part either
in politics or in art and science ; none the less on that
account is their place in history one of the highest interest
and importance.
The surface configuration of the country is a uniform
one ; the mountains for the most part stretch from north
to south in parallel ridges, connecting the Cilician Taurus
with the Red Sea range. The continuity is broken for
short intervals at one or two points. Immediately con-
nected with the Cilician Taurus in the north, and forming
part of it, is the Alma Dagh (ancient Amanus). At its
highest it does not rise much above 6000 feet, but it has
an abrupt descent towards the sea, and terminates at its
southern extremity in a bold headland, the Eds el-Khanzfr.
Here the Orontos reaches the sea through a depression in
the chain, and the same outlet forms an important pass
into the interior of the country. Frequently in ancient
times it was only the territory to the south of the lovr-er
Orontes valley that was reckoned as constituting Syria.
Farther south is the isolated Jebel Aljra', about 6000 feet
high (the Mons Casius of the ancients), which was held
sacred by the Phoenicians; still farther to the south are the
low Ansairi Hills, which derive their name from the people
inhabiting them. Beyond those the Nahr el-Keblr (Eleu-
' In the cuneiform inscriptions Syria is called Mat JJalti, " the land
of the Cbcta," a designation transferred from the north Syrian people
of that name (see below) to the region as a whole ; Mdt Aharri, tlio
"hinder" or "western" land, denotes more properly the southoru
portion, but is also used for the whole. By the Arabs it is called
Esh-Shdm {more properly £sA-5/ia'»i)) "tlio land on the left hand,"
as distinguished from Yonen, "the land on the right"; but the de-
aignatioQ originally implied a wider region than tbo Syria defined
above, including Si it did a portion of Aral-i—
therus) falls into the sea, and here north Syria may be
held to terminate. To the south of this begins the Lebanon
district (see Lebanon, vol. xiv. p. 393); an imaginary
line drawn eastwards from a point a little to the south of
Tyre will represent the southern boundary of what may be
designated as middle Syria. Occasionally Syria is spoken
of in a narrow sense, as distinguished from Palestine ; but
there is no scientific ground for such a practice, for the
mountains of Palestine (g.v.), the southern third of Syria,
can be described as a southward continuation of" the
mountain masses already referred to, and cis-Jordanic as
well as trans-.Tordanic Palestine is simply a portion of
Syria. Indeed the district as far as Sinai can be spoken
of as a fourth division of the same country. A glance at
a geological map reveals this very clearly. Cretaceous
limestone constitutes the bulk of the hills and plateaus of
Syria, and extends towards Sinai, where the zone of
primitive rocks is reached. In the south of Palestine,
nummulitic limestone and Nubian sandstone make their
appearance from Sinai and northern Arabia. In addition
to these, alluvial soils are principally met with. In middle
Syria especially, eastwards from the upper course of the
Jordan, great basaltic masses occur ; in the Hauran (comp.
Bashan, vol. iii. p. 410) there are basalt peaks nearly
6000 feet in height. The basalt mountains are often much
broken up so as to be quite inaccessible (Harra); but
the basalt when decomposed forms the best of arable soils.
It is only in isolated cases that the igneous formation ex-
tends into western Syria. The tableland to the east of
the principal mountain chains consists partly of good clay
soil: the steppe {bddii/et esh-sham, also called hamdd),
which has an average elevation of about 1800 feet, ex-
tends to'.vards the Euphrates with a gradual slope.
The direction of the principal valleys is determined by that of Rivecj.
the mountains. The chief river of Syria in the narrower sense is
tho Orontes (Arabic El-'Asi),\i\\\<i\\ rises in the Bckd', the mountain
valley between Libanus and Antilibanus, and follows a northerly
course. At Antioch, where it is augmented by the stream which
flows from the great lake of Ak Deniz, it turns westwards, falling
into the sea near the ancient Selcucia. Not far from the source of
the Orontes is that of tho Lifani (formerly Li'ta), which runs south-
wards through the Bek.-i'. and afterwards westwards through a deep
gorge of its own excavation, having its mouth a little to the north
of ICyra ; In its lower course it bears the name of El-Kasinu'yc. Tho
principal river of south Syria is the Jorda.v (q.v.). Like it, most of .
the other streams of Syria rising on the eastern side of the water-
shed terminate in inland lakes. Of these may be named the
El-A'waj and the Barada (Pharpar and Abana) of Damascus, which
lose themselves in the lakes and marshes to the cast of the city
In like manner tho river of Aleppo falls into the lake £I-Mntli.
Tho 'Afn'na (Ufrenus of tho ancients) falls into the Ak Deniz lalie,
and 60 into the Orontes ; the Sadjiir is a tributary of the Kupliratcs.
Other lakes are tho great salt lake to the south-cast of Aleppo and
tho remarkable lake near Horns, in the neighbourhood of which tho
ruins of the old Hittite city of Kadesh have recently been discovered.
Tho coastal streams have been enumerated under Lkbako.v and
Palestine (.q.v.).
Two distinct floral regions meet in Syria (comp. Lebavon). That
of the coast is Mediterranean, and is characterized by a number of
evergreen shrubs, with small leathery leaves, and of quickly flower-
ing spring plants. On tho coast of Phccnicia (comp. vol. xviii.
p. 801) and southwards towards Egypt more southern forms o(
the same vegetation occur, as, for example, Ficus Sycomorus, and
especially date-palms. This rccion is separated from the easterly
one, that of the steppu flora, by tho ridge of Lebanon and tho
mountains of Palestine. It is distinguished by tho variety of its
species, by the dry and thorny character of its shrubs, and by its
marked poverty in trees. Tho Jordan valley has on account of its
low level a sub-tropical character. As regards cultivated species,
Syiia is tho homo of tho olive tree, which, like tho vine, is found
in all p.art3 ;-but the whilo mulberry for silk is limited to a .small
district. Syria is throughout far from unfortilu ; tho district of
tho Hauran is ono magnificent corn-field, whilo tho orchard land
about Damascus is mnowncd far and wide. In former times, how-
ever, cultivation was carried on with much greater icnl. and tho
arrangements for irrigation — a necessity everywhere, csiiocially on
tho side bordering on tho steppo — were much moro con»idorablo
•>nd more carefully seen to. Tho numerous luins on tho lands at
822
SYRIA
present under cultivation s.r.1 still m'ore on tlose to the east of
them indicate that the limits of agriculture were once more exten-
sive and the population much denser than at present. During the
Eoman period frontier fortresses on the edge of the steppe served
to check the rapacity and barbarizing influence of the Bedouin
hordes.
Syria presents great diversities of cUmate. The mountains,
though sometimes not absolutely very high, arrest the wsst vinds
blowing from the Mediterranean, so that the atmospheric precipita-
tion is much greater on the western than on the eastern slopes.
Hence the springs on the eastern versant are fewer, and cultivation
is therefore confined to isolated areas resembling oases. The
rainfall drains off with great rapiditj-, the Beds of the streams soon
drying up again. "Within historic times the climate, and with it
the productivity of the country, cannot have greatly changed ; at
most the precipitation may have been greater, the area under
■wood having been more extensive. Except for Jerusalem, we have
hardly any accurate meteorological observations ; there th^ mean
annual temperature is about 63° Fahr. ; in Beyrout it is about 68°.
The rainfall in Jerusalem is 36'22 inches, in BejTout 21 '66. The
heat at Damascus and Aleppo is great, the cooling winds being
kept oif by the mountains. Frost and snow are occasionally
experienced among the mountains and on the inland plateaus, but
never along the coast. Even the steppe exhibits great contrasts
of temperature ; there the rainfall is slight and tne air exceed-
ingly exhilarating and healthy. The sky is continuously cloudless
from the beginning of May till about the end of October ; during
the summer months the nights as a rule are dewy, except, in tlia
desert. Kain i? brought by the west wird ; the north-west ^vind,
which blows often, moderates the heat. On the other hand, an
czoneless east wind (sirocco) is occasionally experienced — especially
during the second half of May and before the beginning of the rainy
season — vhich parches up everything and has a prejudicial influence
on both animal and vegetable life. On the whole the climate of
Syria — if the Jordan valley and the moister districts are excepted
— is not unhealthy, though intermittent fevers are not uncommon
in some places.
Ancient Of the political relations of Syria in ancient times we know hut
Syrians, little. Each town with its surrounding district seems to have cou-
^ stituted a small separate state ; the conduct of affairs naturally
devolved upon the noble families. At a very early period — as
early probably as the 15th century B.C. — Syria became the meeting-
place of Egyptian and Babylonian elements, resulting in a type ol
western Asiatic culture peculiar to itself, which through the com-
merce of the Phoenicians was carried to the western lands of the
Mediterranean basin. Indush'y especidly attained a high state of
development ; rich garments were embroidered and glass and the
like were manufactured. The extant inventories of spoil carried
off by the ancient conquerors include a variety of utensils and stuffs.
The influence exercised at all times on Syrian art by the powerful
neighbouring states is abundantly confirmed by all the recent finds.
The Syrians were more original in what related to religion : every
place, every tribe, had its " lord " (Ba'al) and its "lady" (Ba'alat) ;
the latter is generaUy called 'Ashtar or 'Ashtaret. Besides the
local Baal there were "the god of heaven" (El) and other deities ;
human sacrifices as a means of propitiating the divine wrath were
not uncommon. But in the Syrian mythology foreign influences
frequently betray themselves. Over against its want of originality
must be set the fact, not merely that SyrUan culture spread ex-
tensively towards the west, but that the Syrians (as is shown by
recently discovered inscriptions) long before the Christian era
exercised over the northern Arabs a perceptible influence, which
; afterwards, about the beginning of tho 1st century, became much
stronger through the kingdom of the Nabat-eans. The art of
■writing was derived by the Arabs from the Syrians.
Something about the ancient political and geographies'/ relations
bf Syria can be gleaned from Egyptian sources, especially in con-
nexion with the campaigns of Thothmes III. in ■western Asia.
The Egyptians designated their Eastern neighbours collectively as
'Amu. Syria up to and beyond the Euphrates is called more pre-
cisely Sahi (or Zalii), and is regarded as consisting of the following
parts : — (1) Rutenu, practically the same as Palestine (occasionally
Palestine with Crelesyria is -called Upper Kutenu, as distinguished
from Lower Rutenu extending to the Euphrates) ; (2) the land of the
Cheta (sometimes reckoned as belonj;infr to Rutenu), with Kadesh
on the Crontes as its capital ; (3) Naharina, the land on both sides
of the Euphrates (extending, strictly speaking, beyond the Syrian
limits) ; (4) Kaftu, the coast land of the Phcenicians (Fenchu),
along with Cyprus. The Canaanites in general are called Charu.
From these lands the Egyptian kings often derived rich booty, so
that in those days Syria must have been civilized and prosperous.
Moreover, we possess enumerations of towns in the geogi'aphical
lists of the temple of Karnak and in a hieratic papyrus dating
about 200 years after Thothmes III. Some of 'these names
can be readily identified, such as Aleppo, Kadesh, Sidon, and the
like, as well as many in Palestine. These materials, however, do
:liot enable us to form even a moderately cleai conception of the
condition of the country at that time. It is certain that most of
the cities are of very great antiquity. It appears that the Cheta
very prpbably were a non-Semitic people and that their power for
a time extended far beyond the Syrian limits. Their inscriptions
have not yet been deciphered with certainty. Withiu Syria their
kingdom extended westwards from the middle course of the Eu-
phrates to the neighbourhood of Hamath ; their capital appears to
have been Carchemish. The most prevalent opinion identiiie?
Carchemish with Jerabfs on the Euphrates, an identification which
is favoured by the recent discovery of important "Hittite" monu-
ments at the place. Before then the so-called "Hamath stones"
were the most important inscriptions ©rthe Cheta we possessed,
hut numerous others, as well as various other remains, are now at
our command, and show that the influence of the powerful Cheta
kingdom extended far into Asia Minor (compare Hittites). Th«
kingdom disappeared at an early date, but some of the minoi--
Cheta states continued to subsist do-«-n to the 12th century B.C.
Next to tlie Cheta the Aramreans were the people who held the
most important tovras of Syiia, gradually advancing until at last
they occupied the whole country. Of the Aramsean stocks nami-.l
in Gen. x. 23, xxii. 21 sq., very little is known, but it is certain
that Aramaeans at an early period had their abode close on the
northern border of Palestine (in Maachah). A great part was
played in the history of Israel by the state of Aram Dammesek,
i.e., the territory of the ancient city of Damascus (see voL vi. p.
79C) ; it was brought into subjection for a short time under David.
The main object of the century-long dispute between the two king-
doms was the possession of the land to the east of the Jordan
(Hauran, and especially Gilead). Another Aramaean state often
mentioned in the Bible is that of Aram Zobah. That Zohah was
situated within Syria is certain, though how far to the west or
north of Damascus is not known ; in any case it was not far from
Hamath. Hamath in the valley of the Orontes, at the mouth of
the Beka' valley, was from an early period one of the most important
places in Syria ; according to the Bible, its original inhabitants were
Canaanites. The district belonging to it, including amongst other
places Riblah (of importance on account of its situation), was not
very extensive. In 733 B.C. Tiglath-Pileser II. compassed the
overthrow of the kingdom of Damascus ; he also took Arpad (Tell
Arfad), an important place three hours to the north of Aleppo.
I Hamath -was taken by Sargon in 720. Henceforward the petty
I states of Syria were at all times subject to one or other of the
j great wond-empires, even if in some cases a certain degree of in-
dependence was preserved.
The foundation of numerous Greek cities shortly after Alexander's Gieob
time was of great importance for Syria; Antioce {q.v.), founded perioa
about 300 B.C. by Seleucus, became the capital of the Syrian
kingdom of the Seleucid;e. Among other influential Greek towns
\Yere Apamea on the Orontes and Laodicea. The Seleucidse had
severe struggles with the Ptolemies for the possession of the south-
ern part of Syria (comp. IsHAEl, vol xiii. p. 420).
After having been reckoned for a short time (from 83 to 69 B.a) Unas
among the dominions of Tigranes, king of Armenia, the country Romaj
was conquered for the Romans by Pompey (54-63 B.C.). It is ST^j,-
impossible here to foUow in detail the numerous changes in the
distribution of the territory and the gradual disappearance of
particular dynasties which maintained a footing for some time
longer in Chalcis, Abila, Emesa, and Palestine ; but it is of special
interest to note that the kingdom of the Arab Uabatoeans (comp.
vol. xvii. p. 160) was able to subsist for a considerable period
towards the north as far as Damascus. In the year 40 B.C. Syria
had to endure a sudden but brief invasion by the Parthians.
The country soon became one of the most important provinces of
the Roman empire ; its proconsulship was from the first regarded
as the most desirable, and this eminence became still more marked
afterwards. Antioch, adorned with many sumptuous buildings,
as the chief town of the provinces of Asia, became in point of size
the third city of the empire ; its port was Seleucia, surnamed
Pieria. The high degree of civilization then prevailing in the
country is proved by its architectural remains dating from the
early Christian centuries ; the investigations of De Vogue have
shown that from the 1st to the 7th century there prevailed in
north Syria and the Hauran a special stj'le of architecture, — partly
no doubt foUotving Gra;co-Roman models, but also showing a great
deal of originality in details.
The administrative divisions of Syria during the Roman period
varied greatly at different times ; subjoined is an enumeration of
them as they existed at the beginning of the 5th century. (1)
Syria Euphratensis, which had for its capital Hierapolis (Syr.
Mabdg ; Arab, itambidj ; Gr. Ba/ifiuKri). The kingdofu of Com-
magene, beyond the limits of Syria, belonged to Syria Euphra-
tensis ; its capital was Samosata, at the point where the Euphrates
leaves the mountains, and it had other important towns on that
river, such as Europus (the modem Barbalissus). (2) Syria I.,
or Coelesyria, having Antioch as its capitah The name Coelespia
(■!] Koi\)i Xvpla) originally, no doubt, was applied to the valley
between Libanus and AntUibanus, but was 'terwards exceiiJtd
SYRIA
823
±0 the district stietcliing eastwards from the latter range. (3)
Syria 11, or Syria Sah.tans, will. Apan.ca (Arab. ra'Hlya, tl.e
,no.lern Kar.at cl-Mudik) on the Orontcs as cintal. (4 Phcenice
Mav.uma; camtal.Tyre. (5) Phcei.ioe ad l.ibanum ; capital Emcsa
<Hims). To this division Damascus and I'llniyra bnlonscd • occa-
sionally they «ere reckoned to Ccclesyria, the middle strip of coas
Uin- designated Syroi>lioinicia. (6, 7, 8) Palcstina ., II., and
II! For these, which Itom the time oi Vespasian had governors
vi- 'heir o>vn, see vol. xviii. p. 177. (9) Arabia (capital, Bostra),
uhicli embraced all the iv^ion from the Hanran to the Arnon,
and skirted the Jordan -..ll^y, .tr»tx.l.ing southwards to Fetia-
I'hrongli the kingdom of the Nabatajans Roman influence peue-
tiatcd°l'rom Syria far into northern Arabia. .,,,,„ •
In 616 Svria was snbjii^'ated for a brief period by the Fersiaii
C^OT■,^e.' :i."; from 622 till 028 it was. again Byzantine ; 6.)b and
the immediately following years saw its conquest by the Jloham-
iii-dans (see Mohammedanism, vol. x\niL p. 562). Mo awija, aic
first Ommayad caliph, chose Damascus for Ins residence ; but in
750 the capital of the empire was removed by the Abbasids to
Ba"hd.ad. Under the early caliphs the Arabs divided Sj-ru into
the following military districts (jonds). (1) rih.lm (Palestine),
consisting of Judsea, Samaria, and a portion of the territory east _o.
Jordan; its capital w.is Ramlch, Jerusalem ranking next. _ (2)
Urdun (Jordan), of which the capital was labanye (Tiberias) ;
roughly speaking, it consisted of the rest of Palestine as far as
Tyi^ (3) Damascus, a district which included Baalbcc, Inpo i,
and ijeyrout, and also the ILinran. (4) I.lims, including Hnmatb
(5) Kinnasn'u, corresponding to northern Syri.T ; the capita at
nrst was Kinnasrin to the south of Malcb (Aleppo), by which it
was afterwkrds superseded. (6) The Mxth district was the military
frontier raivasim) bordering upon the Byzantine dominions ni
Asia Minor. The struggles of the Mohammedan dynasties for the
Vcssession of Syria cannot be gone into here ; suffice it to say that
throughout their course the country still cjijoyed a considerable
degree of prosperity. , , , , i
In the crusading period the kingdom of Jerusalem, whose rulers
were never able to establish a foothold to the east of the Jordan,
extended northwards to Beyrout ; next it was the countship ol
Tripoli on the coast; and beyond that in north Syiia w-as the
principality of Antiocli. Syria suffered severely from theMoiigol
invasions (1260), and it never recovered its former prosperity. In
;ush 1516 the Ottomans took it from the Egyptian Jlamclukes. Lnder
re- the Turks its administrative divisions again varied at dillercnt
M times ; out of the five pashalics of Aleppo, Tripoli, Damascus,
Sidon (later 'Akka), and Jerusalem two vilayets were subsequently
formed, having their capitals at Aleppo and Damascus. Quite
recently south Palestine has been made a uepaiate vilayet Irom
that of Damascus. , , . v 4. •
1. Rude stone monuments (circles and dolmens) and other prehistoric
fni remains show that Syria must have been inhabited from a veiy early
period. Within hiitoric times a gi-eat number of different nation-
alities have fouffht and settled within its borders, the m.ajority
belonging to the Semitic stock. This last circumstance has ren-
dered°possible a considerable degree of fidelity in the tradition of
the oldest local names. After the Aranucans had absorbed what
remained of the earlier population, they themselves were very
powerfully influenced by Givxco-Roman civilization, but as a people
they still retained their Aramsean speech. At present an Aramaic
dialect largely ini.ted with Arabic is spoken in three villages on
tho eastern slope of Antilibanus (in Ma'lula, Bakh'a, and Jub'adin),
but this small survival is on the point of disappearing. Through-
out the whole country elsewhere the lan"ua"e spoken is Arabic,
but with Aramaic elements, especially in tlie language of the pea-
sants. Ethnographically the Aramaic element of the population
admits of being distinguished from the Arabic type ; it is specially
stron" in the mountain districts. The majority of the Chrntians
dwellTng in Syria may be regarded .as representatives of the
Aramaean race. Ko traces of the carliei races, such as the Canaanites
or Phcenicians, can any longer be distinguished ; and every trace
of the presence of Greeks, Romans, and: Franks has coinnletcly
disappeared , >• ,•
III the AraV fminigration, two principal types are to be (li^,tin-
guished,— the pure Arab typo of the nomad tribes (Bedouins) and
the typo of the sedentary town Arabs and peasants, whicli shows an
intermixture of foreign and older elements. The two confront each
otiier in aharp contmsU Bedouin trlbea are scattered throughout
the whole country ; despising agriculture and the settled life, tlicy
are found with their camels, sheep, and goats on the borders of the
territories a]ipropriatod by the peasants. BeinR more or less inde-
pendent of the Government, especially in the district (wnJcnng on
the steppe, they are able to ex.act black mail from their sedentary
brethren. Taxed thus on both hands, the life ol the pcasiint is
economically far from an easy one ; hence it should bo the duty of
Government to restrain the influence of the nomads and to force
them .as far as i.ossible to form fixed settlements. In tins respect
the policy of the Turks during the 19th century to ciisuic the
safety of the peasants and of travellers baa been on this who.i
Euccesaful. In the distrlctji bordering on the coast there aro no
Ur"c nom.adic tribes, and on the higher plateaus of the cultivated
land the powei of the Bedouins is much leduced ; but south of
Palestine and everywhere on the ed"e of the steppe they continue
much as liefore. The most powerful tribe of the Syrian desert ia
that of the 'Aueze, falling into numerous subdivisions, of which
the Ruwala, Wuld 'All, llcsciic, and Bischer may bo mentioned.
The tribe, estimated to number 300,000 in all, extends far into
Arabia and reaches tho Euphrates. The other Bedouin tribes of
Syria have for tho most part tolerably definite and circnm.scrilied
territories Kast of the Jordan the best known arc the 'Adwiu on
the Balka and the Baui Sakhr in Moab. The Bedouins to the
south of' the Dead Sea are called Ahl cl-Kihli ("the people of the
south") in contradistinction to those of the noitli (Ahl esh-Shcni.al).
Finally, there occur sporadically in central and noitherii Syru
nomadic Turkish tribes. Gipsy hordes arc also met with in con-
siderable numbers.
The religious as well as the ethnographical types are strongly
divei'-ent. ° The bulk of the population are Moliammedan ; the
Bedouins have not much religion of any kind, but they piofe&s
Islam Besides orthodox Jloslcms there aie also Shi'ite sects, such
as that of the Jletawilc (especially in northern Palestine), as well
as a number of religious communities whose doctiine, combining
philosophical .and Christian with Jloliaminedau elements, is the
outcome of the process of fermentation that chnractcnzcd the first
centuries of Islam. To this last class belong the Ishmaclites.
Xosairians, and especially the Dkl'ses {^.v.). In many cases it is
obvious that the political antipathy of natives against the Arabs lias
found expression in the formation of such sects. The ^osau•lans,
for instance, and no doubt the Druses also, were onginally survivals
of the Syrian population. The Jews are found exclusively 111 the
laicer centres of population ; in every case they have immigrated
ba°k from Europe. The Christians aro an important element, ron.
stitutin" probably as much as a fifth of the whole population ; the
maiority of them belong to the Ortl-.odox Greek Church which has
two patriarchs in Syria, at Aiitioch and Jciusalcm. Catholics-
United Greeks, United Syrians, and Marouites-are numerous.
The mission of the American Presbyterian Church, winch has had
its centre in Beyrout for the last sixty years, has done much for
Svria, especially in the spread of popular education ; numerous
i.ublications issue fiom its press, and its medical school has been
extremely beneficial. The Catholic mission has done very good
work in what relates to schools, institutes, and the dillusion of
literature. The Christians constitute the educated portion of tlie
Syrian people ; but the spirit of rivalry is producing stimuktive
clfects on the Mohammedans, who have greatly fallen aw.ayfrom
that zeal for knowledce which chaiacterized the eariier centuries ol
*''Accurat; statistics of any kind for Syria cannot be had ; even Are. am!
the area of the land under cultivation is unknown The returns popu-
of population are, according to the Turkish olhcial documents lat.oii.
only .approximations. The total population may salely be put at
less than 2 000,000 ; an official estimate in 18/2-/3 gave 1,365,680,
of whom 976,322 were Jlohammedans. Probably, 'i"««y'-''''J'';'
was an under-cstimate. Keclus (iXoao. Gio,j,: «/«id., lans, 1884)
gives the area of Syria as 183,000 square kilometres 1/0,633 square
miles) and the population as 1,4.50,000. i„„,„ mm
From the Egiplian and Assyrio Babylonian monuments wo leain Com-
that in ancient times one of the principal exports «f i'y''=' ;;^»J ";7^.
timber; this has now entirely ceased. But 'V?""""''",!" -w'T' TO
wheat, and with good roads the amount conid be very la ge y in- duslry.
creased Other articles of export ore silk cocoons, wool, liides,
sponges, and fruits (almonds, raisins, and the like); the amounts of
cotto"., tobacco, and wine sent out of the country are small. 1 ho
only good harbours arc those of Beyrout and Alexandretla (Scan-
deroon). Thocaravan trade with the East hasalmoslenliiely ceased,
and tho great trade routes from Damascus norllnvaids to Aleppo
and eastwards through the wilderness are quite ."t'^';;!"!'" •. ' '"
trdfic with Arabia has ceased to be important, being liniiled to the
time of the going and returning of the great P'l!^'""'/^';^;;'"" '°
Mecca, which continues to have its mnsteriiignlaco at Damnscut
Tie native industries in silk, cotton and w J have beo,, a mos
entirely destroyed by the import trade from Europe / '«"'''•
poor in minerals, including coal ; «-'".";ro»er also , defi n so
l,at the introduction of Euiopenn indnstries !■« « \'; ') ■•} " ,^
difficulties even apart from the insecurity of allairs, which foibi.ls
iicl exp.riments'as the iniprovoment of agrienltuij, by m^^^^^^
Knropcan capital. As regards tho cultivation of the soil Su a
Icnialns stalde; but tho-soi! is becoming '- -"'- V 1,-°';';;;, ''•
value of the imports constantly g';.-»!^;i-» "^ „"V ' .^ nl'nn
IM4.J5 ; llnrcklmr.lt, T.«>'h,n ,-,. ,.:,.n,lll,i ;/..N '" "'.'f "',",'• '., . Mi.n.y^
ii!i„„„ .„d i>r«k^ £/.,«,;(.".■/ .s.,w„, ■j.";i.V['h",'.,):, .s»^..nov:^u";
824
SYEIAC LITEEATUEE
THE literature of Syria, as knowu to us at the present
day, is, -with the exception of trau"lations from the
Greek and some other languages, a Christian literature.
The writings of the Sjnrian h^thens, such as the so-called
?abians (see Sablus's) cf Harran, which were extant, at
least in part, even in the 13th century,* seem to have now
wholly disappeared. The beginnings of this literature are
lost in the darkness of the earliest ages of Christianity. It
was at its best from the 4th to the 8th century, and then
grac.'ually died away, though it kept up a flickering exist-
ence tin. the 14th century or evea later. We must own
— and it is well to make the confession at the outset —
that the literature of Syria is, on the whole, not an attract-
ive one. As Eenan said long ago,^ the characteristic of
the Syrians is a certain mediocrity. They shone neither
in war, nor in the arts, nor in science. They altogether
lacked the poetic' fire of -the older — we purposely emphasize
the word — the older Hebrews and of the Arabs. But they
were apt enough as pupils of the Greeks ; they assimilated
and reproduced, adding little or nothing of their own.
There was no Al-Farabi, no Ibn Sina, no Ibn Eushd, in
the cloisters of Edessa, Ken-neshre, or Nisibis. Yet to the
Syrians belongs the merit of having passed on the lore of
ancient Greece to the Arabs, and therefore, as a matter-
of history, their literature must always possess a certain
amount of interest in the eyes of the modern student.
The Syrian Church never produced men who rose to the
level of a Eusebius, a Gregory Nazianzen, a Basil, and a
Chrysostom ; but we may still be thankful to the plodding
diligence which has preserved for us in fairly good trans-
lations many valuable works of Greek fathers which would
otherwise have been lest. And even Syria's humble chroni-
clers, such as John of Ephesus, Dionysius of Tell-IJahre,
and Bar-Hebraeus, deserve their meed of praise, seeing that,
without their guidance, we should have known far less
than we now know about the history of two important
branches of the Eastern Church, besides losing much in-
teresting information as to the political events of the
periods with which their annals are occupied.
As Syriac literature commences with the Bible, we first briefly
enumerato the different versions of Holy Scripture.
The most important of these is the so-called Peshitta [mappakld
TfHSshitla,), " the simple " or " plain version," the Syriac vulgate.
This name is in use as early as the 9th or 10th century.^ As to
the Old Testament, neither the exact time nor place of its transla-
tion is known ; indeed, from certain differences of style and manner
in, Its several parts, we may rather suppose it to he the work of
different hands, extending over a considerable period of time. It
would seem, however, as a whole, to have been a product of the
2d century, and ntt Improbably a monument of the learning and
zeal of the Christians of Edessa. Possibly Jewish converts, or even
Jews, took a part in it, for some books (such as the Pentateuch and
Job) are very literally rendered, whereas the coincidences with the
LXX. (which are particularly numerous in the prophetical books)
show the hand of Christian translators or revisers. That Jews
should have had at any rate a consultative share in this work need
not surprise us, when we remember tliat Syrian fathers, such as
Aphraates, in the middle of the 4th century, and Jacob of Edessa,
in the latter half of the 7th, had frequerit recourse, like Jerome,
to the scholars of the synagogue. To wliat extent subsequent
revision may have been carried it is not easy to say ; but it seem.s
tolerably certain that alterations were made from time to time with
a view to harmonizing the Syriac text with that of the LXX. Such
an opportunity may, for instance, have been afforded on a consider-
able scale by the adoption of Lucian's te.xt of the LXX. at Antioch
in the beginning of the 4th century (see Septuagint, vol. xxi.
p. fi69). On all these points, however, we know nothing for
Aar-Hebrieus, Chron. Syr., ed. Bruiis and Kirsch, p. 176 ; Chwol-
eoim, Jsabier und Ssabismus, i. 177.
' Be Ph ilosopkia Peripaletica apud Syro^, 1852, p. 3.
' See the passage of Moses bar KFpha, who died in 903, cited by the
Abb6 ilartiu in his fnirodKction d la Critique Textudle du Nouveau
TestaTMnt. p'. 101. not<-
certain, and may well repeat the words of Theodore of Mopsuesti.i
in his commentaiy on Zephaniah i. 6': rtpiiTiyevrat Si raOra (It iiiv
TT}v "ZOpuv Trafi 6tou 8-q nore' ovdi yap ^yvwarai tU'Xfii t^s T-q/jLcpov darii
irork oyros iaTiP. ^
The canonical books of the Old Testament according to the
Peshitta are substantially those of the Hebrew Bible. In the
Massoretic MSS. (see below), whether Nestorian or Jacobite, the
books of Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah are passed over, and in
the Nestorian the book of Esther also. But, on the other hand, it ■
must be noticed that all these books are cited by Aphraates, and
that they all appear in the Codex Ambrosianus. Of the Chronicles
there is a JIS. of the 6th century in the British Museum, Add.
17104. Esther appears in a volume of equal age (Add. 14652) as
one of the constituent parts of the "Book of Women," the others
being Ruth, Susanna, Judith, and the history of Thecia, the ^i\s■
ciple of St Paul, which last is excluded from Biblical MSS. The
oldest dated MS. of any portion of the Old Testament at present
known to us is Add. 14425 in the British Museum (Gen., Exod.,
Num., Dent), transcribed at Amid by a deacon named John in 464.
The deutero- canonical books or apocrypha, translated by differ- Jspo-
ent hands from the Greek,* are nearly the same as in the LXX.' crypha.
The Codex Ambrosianus J for example, contains 'Wisdom, the Epistle
of Jeremiah, and two Epistles of Baruch ; the Song of the Three
Children, Bel and the Dragon, and Susanna ; Judith, Siracides or
Fcclesiasticus ; the Apocalypse of Baruch ; the fourth book of
Esdrat ; and five books of the Maccabees, the fourth being the
history of Samona and her sons, and the fifth Joscphi de Bella Jtidaico
lib. OT.' To these must be added from other MSS. the first or third
book of Esdras, the book of Tobit, and the prayer of Manasses.
Of the first book of the Maccabees two recensions are extant, as far
as chap. xiv. 24. The book of Tobit presents the text of the LXX.
as far as chap. vii. 11.'
Th^ canonical books of the New Testament are the four Gospels, Canon-
the Acts of the Apostles (to which are annexed the three catholic ical
epistles, viz., James, 1 Peter, and 1 John), and- the fourteen epistles books a
of St Paul. The shorter apostolic epistles, viz., 2 and 3 John, 2 NewTes
Peter, and Jude, and the Apocalypse of St John, were rejected by lament.
the early Syrian Church.'"
As to the I'eshitta version of the Gospels (P), a variety of critical Tatian's
questions arise when we consider it in connexion with two other Dip-
works, the Dia-tessaron of Tatiau (T) and the Curelonian Gospels lessarr,n
(Sc)." Tatian, the friend of Justin Martyr, afterwards counted a and th
heretic, composed out of the four Gospels a work which received Curetou
the title of T6 5i4 Tiauipuiv eOayyiXioy, in Syriac more briefly ian
Dia -tessaron, or Evangelion da-MlhalWe, "the Gospel of the Gospels
ilixed." It is a subject of controversy whether Tatian wrote
this work in Greek or in Syriac, and whether he compiled it from
the Greek Gospels or from a previous Syriac version. According
to Zahn'^ and Baethgen," the author's language was Syriac, his
sources Greek. They hold that this was the only Gospel in
use in the Syrian Church for nearly a century, but that about
the year 250, under the influence of Western IISS. of the Greek
■* Mai, PalTum Nova Biblictkeea, vol. vii. 252.
^ Some scholars, such as P. de Lagarde and Bickell, think that
Ecclesiasticus was translated from the lost Hebrew text.
* See Ceriani, Monuvienta Sacra et Pro/ana, vol. i. fascc. 1, 2 ; vol.
v. fascc. 1, 2 ; P. de Lagarde, Libri Vet. Test. Apocryphi Syriace.
' Splendidly reproduced at .Milan by the process of photo-lithography
under the direction of the Rev. Dr A. M. Ceriani, 5 parts, 1876 foil.
* See Das 6te Buch d. Bellum Judaicum ubersetzi u. krilisch bearbeitet,
by Dr H. Kottek, Berlin, 1886; only capp. 1 and 2.
' See the Syriac note on p. xii. of De Lagarde's editioUi
•" The principal editions of the Peshitta are contained in the Paris
polyglott of Le Jay and the London polyglott of Walton, to which
latter is attached the immortal Lexicon Heptaylotton of Edmund Castell.
The Old Testament (without the apocrypha) was edited by S. Lee in
1823 for the Bible Society, and is frequently bound up with the New
Testament of 1826. The first edition of the New Testament was that
of J. A. Widmanstad, with the help of Moses of Mardin (Vicuna, 1555).
Those of Tremellius (1569), Trost (1621), Gutbir (1664), and Leusden
and Schaaf (1708, 1717) are well known. To the last named belongs
Schaaf's admirable Lexicon Syriacum Concordanliale. The Americaa
missionaries at Uriimiyah have published both the Old and New-
Testaments in ancient and modern Syriao^ the former in 1852, the
latter iu 1846.
" Remains of a very Antienl Recension of the Four Gospels in Syriac,
hitherto unknown in Europe, discovered, edited, and translated by
ir. Cureton, D.D., F.R.S., 1858.
1^ Forschungen zur Geschichte des neutesiamentlichen Kanons, ic,
1 Theil : Tatian's Diatessaron, pp. 98, 99.
" Fvangelienfragmente. Der griechische Text des' Cureton schc»
Syrers wiederhergestellt, 1885.
J BIBLE VERSIONS.]
SYRIAC LITERATORE
825
text (see Wcstcott and lion, .ae New Tcsmmaxl vi l,^ Onjinal
Creek, Introd., §§ 118, 214), a version of 'the Separate Gospels
fSvangclion da-MipharHshi, was introduced.' .The translator, ac-
.ordine to 15actl.gon,= ma,lc use of T as far as ho eould ; and of
this text So is, in the opinion of thpso scholars, the solitary sur-
vival in our days. The cvi.lcnce for this view does not, however,
=,pnear to be conclusive. It seems that a Synac version of the
four Gospels, as well as of the other parls of the New Testament,
must have existed in the 2d century, perhaps even before the
version of the Old Testament. From tins Tat.an may have com-
l,iled his Dia-tcssaron. or he may have ^^■.'•'"»", ''\V7t'?t mav
and others may have done it into Synae. Be that as it may,
T ccrtainlv cained creat popularity in the early Syrian Church,
..nd aW fuperscd'ed the 'sep.rate Gospels Aphraatos quoted
it'; Ephraim wrote a commentary upon ■'' ! t^e Z)oci7 ;«c o/
Addai or Adda^us (in its present shape a work of the latter lal of
the 4th century) transfers it to the apostolic tunes'; RabbuU,
bishop of Edessa (411-435), promulgated an order that the priests
and deacons should take care that in every church there should
be a copy of the Separate Go%X'i^\s f^Evanqchoii da- Mtpharnshc),
.ind that it should be read"«; and Theodoret, bishop of Cyrrhus
(423-457), swci.t up more than two hundred copies of it in the
vhurches of his diocese, »nd introduced the four Gospe s m their
Jesuit of these and similar well meant efforts is that not a single
copy of T h.-is come down to our times.' Both Aphraates and
Ephraim, however, made use of the Separate Gospels. The former
.eems to have employed a text which Baethgen calls a slightly
revised form of Se {op. cit., p. 95); we would rather speak of it
as a revised form of the old Syriac Gospels of the 2d century.
The latter made use of a more thorough Edesscne revision, closely
.-ipproaching in form to, if not identical with, P (Baethgen, p. 9o ;
Zahn p. 63). Our oldest MSS. of V are, \iowever, more than a
Imudrelj years later than Ephraim's time. Wc cannot, therefore,
expect very important textual results froiil the collation of even
suJh JISS. as Add. 14470, 14453. 14459, ff. 1-C6, and I'll?, in
ttie British Jluseuin, all of which may be safely ascribed to the
latter part of the 5th or the beginning of the 6th century. Early
in the 5th century RabbCda, bishop of Edessa, the fiiend and
torrespondcnt of Cyril of Alexandria, occupied himself with trans-
htin" the New Testament out of the Greek into the Synac, because
of iti variations, exactly as it was."3 This probably means, as
lias been sug-csted by Nestle, that Rabbfda undertook a revision
of the Syriac text according to a Greek MS. or MSS. in his posses-
sion that is to say, still further assimilated P of that day to a
Greek (possibly, from his connexion with Cyril, Alexandrian) text.
Wc do not as yet linow, however, whether this revision was merely
a private effort, or what innuenee, if any, it exercised on the history
of P • more likely it was a first step in the direction of the Pluloxen-
iau version (see below). The result of these successive revisions
as rcards Sc has been that it survives in but one mutilated codex,
and that written at comparatively so late a date as 450-470,' —a
phenomenon whicli has its parallel in the case of the Itala codex c
of the Gospels, copied in the llth century. The greater part of
this volume is in the British Museum (Add. 14451)" ; but there are
three leaves of it in the royal library at Berlin, forming the fly-
leaves of the MS. marked Orient. Quart. 528." Crowfoot's attempt
' 1 Zalin.op. ci(.,ri'. 104100. : Oji. ci(., rP- 59, CO, V2 sij.
3 Wiiglifs cJilioii, p. 1^, 1. 10, "as it is w.ittcu at tlie head of the Gosnel
nf onr Lifcgivcr, In tlic bcgiiiniiis was the Word." .,.,,., :,„!.»
4 Nowcxtiutoiilyin the oM Armenian version, trarsl.-itcal)y the McchlUriRt
.\uchcr, ami rcviscil \>y O. JtdsiTiscr under the title 01 JimnQcVu Coimrdantis
Jixpoiil'io fticia a S. Ei'limtmo, Venice, 1S7C.
5 Phillips's edition, p. Qi» , 1. U.
C S. F.iilimimi S'jri Itahiilx rjii F.Jtsscid Bah.-i iiUorumqM opera stkcta^i.
J.J. 6vcibccl<, Oxford, 1S05, p. 220, 3.
' AipcriKi)! KaKO/iuOiaf iwiroiiri, i. 10.
8 lll.irlin'a arlielc " Lc Aid Ttjffdpwi/ do T.itien" (fioni ncvue da Qucs-
Ko.is IIUIoiioKCS, April 1S83) contains inuchcurions literary information, par-
ticularly leraidinx similar compilations of later date. See also Ciasca s artielo
«• I>c Tatiani Dialcsiaion Aiabica Vcrsioue," in Cardinal P.tra 5 A nalecia Sccra
Srlcilinio SoUsmnisi nmilx, iv. 400. This Arabic DMcsmron bcRins with Mark
i 1 John i 1-5 I.nho i. 5-60, Matthew i. ]-25a, Luke ii. 1-39. Ciasca s copy is
linii (18S7) in the hands of De L.isardo, who hai published a few iiapes of it m
Hm-hridUcn von tier U,u(,l. nc>dlxl,aft dcr U-i^cmcUofteH,UI.O, No. 4, pp.
lOOliS. Accordin- to Do Lajardo, the text is that of the ordinary TeslilHS
u Ovcrbeol;, oji. ci(., p. IT2,"lS;0. ,, , j . ,
"O The whole of the Abbe Mailin's elaborate arRnmentatlon (fiilrod. o la
Ciillmtr rtJ7iir»c dii iV. T., pp. 10;|.230) Is of no avail a^-ainst Hiii imtaocraphic
fact. No one who is conversant with Syriac IISS. can foro moment doubt that
our codex of Sc was w.itlfn within a few years of the time indicated above.
ThehandwritinjiHof Jac.lK.f E.lessa's lime (llio latter half of the ith century)
arc altogether .IllVerent. Possissuis of the obbO's work should cancel pi..
■'Jl-^IO The "Postscrintnin," as the anthof himself has cxplalhiil, is only
an elaborate lokc. There is no MS. Add. T012.', in the Drilish Museum, no
ralaloguo of the Greek MSS. in Iwenlylive volume», and of conisc no sueli
vhotograph exists as he has described. As for the ".peeial lele^Mjiu fron.
••Reverend Ciowfoof thronjh the "ngence Frl-Frou-Fro »''J ,<»■. ^dated
■JSlh Decinibtr 1882, It Is enough to ».ay that Mr Crowfoot iii«l ca 16tb
llneh ISTr..
13 See U«!fi'c'r in"tl'i'e"J>o'im(<(;eri,;,(c of'tho Berlin Academy for July 1ST2,
p 657 ; Wright, Fromintt o/lht Curclonlan f;o!jf(« (privately nrlnted).
to rc*r?i:',lato Sc into Greek is a failure {Fragmcnla Eiartgelica,
1S70-72); Baethgen's work [Evangelien/ragmcnlc, kc.) will per-
haps be found more satLsfactory.
The scholars of the Monophysito branch of the Syrian Church
were, however, by no means satisfied even with the rev-jsd text
of P, and demanded a yet more accurate reproduction of the Greek
text in use among them. Accordingly Aksiinaya or Philoxenus,
bishop of Mabbogh (485-519), undertook to satisfy this want, and
with the assistance of his chorepiseopus, Polycarp, produced a literal
translation of the whole Bible in the year 508.'' This seems at
first to have met with considerable approval ; JIoscs of Aggcl, for
example, who flourished from 550 to 570,'* refers to the version ol
the New Testament and of the Psalms evidently as the standard
work of the day." But it was in its turn superseded by two later
revisions, and JISS. of it are now very ra're. Portions of Isaiah
survive in the British Museum, Add. 17106, ff. 74-87," and the
text of the Gospels in the codex A. 2, 18 of the Biblioteca An-
gelica at Rome, of the llth or 12th century," and perhaps also in
the Beirut (Beyrout) MS. described by the Rev. Isaac H. Hall." At
the beginning of the 7th century the work of rctranslation and
revision was again taken in hand by the Monophysites, the scene
of their labours being the different convents in tjljc neighbour-
hood of Alexandria. There, in the years eiC-Gn,'" Paul, bishop
of Telia dhe-Mauzclath or Constantina, undertook a version of the
hexaplar text of the LX.X. at the request of the patriarch Atlia-
nasius 1.-" Of parts of .his many MSS. are extant in .the British
Museum and the Bibliotheque Natiouale at Paris, and the Biblio-
teca Ambrosiana at Milan possesses the second volume of a codex of
the entire work, which has been reproduced by photo-lithography
under the direction of Ceriani." This version not only cxliibitJ
the asterisks and obeli of Origcu's text of the LXX., but th<
marginal notes contain many readings of the other Greek trans,
lators, which have been largely utilized by Field in his noble work
OrUjenis Hcxaplorum qux siq)crsunt (2 vols., Oxford, 1875). At
the same time and place the New Testament of Philoxenus was Th.iraai
thoroughly revised by Thomas of Harkel or Hcraclea,-- bishop of of Hw
Jlabbogh,'-^ who, being driven. from' his.diocese, betook himself to '"'
Alexandria and worked there in the convent of St Antony at the
Eiiaton (or Nine-mile-village)." This version comprises not only .
all the books contained in the Peshitta but also the four shorter
epistles.^' The lapse of another century brings us to the last
atteniiit at a revision of the Old Testament in the Monophysite
Church.' Jacob, bishop of Edessa, undertook, when living in retire- Jacob
meut in the convent of Tell-' Adda or Telcda,=» in 704-705, to revise Edesa
the text of the Peshitta with the help of the Greek versions at his
dispos.aV thus producing a curious eclectic or patchwork text. Of
this work there are but five volumes extant in Europe, four of
which came from the Kitrian Desert and form parts of a set which
was written in the years 719;720. It would seem, therefore, never
to have attained popularity.""
, One other version remains to be noticed, namely, that used by
13 Assemani, Blhliollicca Orieiilalis, ii. 23. . , , ^ ",?■"•.' 'I,*-- j
15 Ihid., ii. S3; Guidi, JJendiconli delta R. Aceademia dei Lirtcti, May and
"i6°Edited''by Ce'riani in Monumenla Sacra et Projana, vol. v. fasc. 1, pp. J-40.
" Sec Bernstein, Das heiliic EiaiigcliuM des JohaAnts, Leipsic, 1Sj3. kriL
Anmckungcr,, pp. 3, 29; Martin, lalrod. a la Cril.Texl. dKN F., pp. 100- 01.
19 Syriahra>iuxri2<ts.Go>pelso/apre.HurkUmia:iVirsion Acts and EpullesoJ
tilt Pe'hillo I'crsion, wri»cii U'robabhj) Ulweea 700 and 000 A.D. January 1884.
19 See Ceiiuni. Hoiiumenla, vol i. fase. 1 : ProUgovunain kdil I er,. ^yr. tx
TcxiH LXX.. p. iii. : Martin, Introd., p. 139, no c." ■ » H.O., li. 333.'34
11 Monumenta, vol. vii.: Corfrx ."ti/ro/iMapliins /Imiros.aiiiis. 1874. The Dnit
volume of this codex was in the possession of Andreas Masius, but has Uu-
tirnc the books of Judges and Ruth have been published by T. Skat Rordam
CLib'i Jvdicnm el Rulli seenndnm Vers. Suriaco-heiaplarem Copenhaseii. 18..9-
lil), and Exodus. Numbers, Joshua, 1 and 2 Kings, by P. do LagaideCnj. J^rab
o'lvue rccensiti Fragmcnla opn.l Hyros sercala ijuinqm Ootll, gen, 1880, printed
witli Hebrew letters). Ceriani has commenced a crrtical edition In tho JUoim-
iiic«((r vol. I. fasc. 1 ; vol. II. fascc. 1-4 ; vol. v. fascc. 1, 2- „ , ,, ^ .
a'i See C.O., ii. 90, 331 ; Uernstelll, Do llharkleMi N. T. TranslaUoni Svrroo.
Co)iiincii(<itio, p. 4 ..«»»! ¥T_ m..>
■^ or Manbil ; according to others, 'of GormanicIa or Mar ash. "o mu»l
not bo confoun'ded with an older Thomas of Gcrmanlcla, a *'>"";i'''>'^'" J' "''
earlier i.ar I of the Ctlr century ; sec B.O., ii. 9.', 320 ; Meyn, Jacobui Daradatus,
I'- 43. note 1. '*,SeoW.i,;hl,Cn(..l.,p. 34,nole.
S3 It has been edited by While at Oxi..rd-tho """P'-f ," '"?,,„ ,„,i^
arrd Apostolic episths in 1799, the Paull.,.; ep.;lle» In ""■'("'^..'^P';''' " | *
Hebrews Is ilefcetive, endirrg in the middle of chap. xl. 27). Ihe '>•'■' "f lh«
shorter epHll.., 2 Peter, 2 and 3 Johfr. and Jnde. has lyen '«,':"">' "•''""'"r?J
bv rdiolotviic from a manuscript dated H71 — irdKaiin Hanuscnpl. TM
■rransacltons oftkc fiovol /.(.A Acadr.n,,, vol. xxvl . No. viri " On « «>' ?" «»•
belnrrging to the Cdlleelion of Anlrbislrop U.sher by the ''"• J- "rj""'
D.n. There Is a fine MS.ofll.i, ,,riM,. ,l.l-.l llTO. In 11m; '""^"^ >'''''"i[j!
Cambridge, Add MS. 1700. 1' ,! , ,
of Clement Insertetl between
SO Pndiably the modern T'
p. 480 ; S.iehau, Reist in Syri. n
W Wri;;ht, Catal., p. :is. cid. I
>tl<s
l':iul. ■
,1. u. Syrltn,
,l/(.jj.jIu"lrL i], i'. 4.''9,
r, Bee Celia.dlt' M^nU iHano^rlUi d.lU Kml»-( S(r(a.». rf« VecAU
r«f., l"ii. p 27, and Honumenl.,. vol. II. fasc I. PP. »!•. x"-. vol. v. ra«s. V
pp. 1-10; Martin, lulrod., pp. 530-233. 3W *J.
826
SYRIAC LITERATURE
[bible vebsio:s8.
the Christian population of the Malkite (Greek) Churoli in Pales-
tine, written in an Aramaic dialect more akin to ths language of
tl.e Jewish Targums than to that of the Peshitta.' A lectionary
contaiiiing large portions of the Gospels in this dialect was de-
scribed by Assemani in the catalogue of the Vatican library,-
studied by Adler,^ and edited by Count Fr. Miniscalchi Erizzo
under the title of Evangeliarium Sierosolymitanicm .{2 vols.,
Verona, 1861-64). It was wTitten in a convent at a place called
Abud,* not very far from Jemsalem, in the year 1030, and the
scribe claims to have copied sundry other service-books for the
use of his church (see As'semani, op. cit., p. 102). Fragments of
other evangeliaria have been published by Land, from MSS. at
London and St Petersburg, in his Anecd. Syr., iv. pp. 114-162,
213-222 ; of the Acts of the Apostles, p. 168 ; and of the Old
Testament (translated- from the Greek), pp. 103-110, 165-167,
222-223. According to the same authority (p. 231), the calendar
in the Vatican MS. must have been drawn up about the middle
' of the 9th century. Few, if any, of the extant fragments appear
to be of older date. Koldeke places the origin of the version in the
4th or 5th century, certainly not later than 600 (loc. cit., p. 525).'
All the above j-evisions of the text of the Sj-riac Bible according
to the Greek are, as we have seen, the work of Monophysites, with
the single exception of the last, which proceeded from the Malkites.
The Nestorian community obstinately adhered to the old Peshitta,
and the solitary attempt made to introduce a revised text among
Mar- them seems to have been an utter failure. Mar-abha I.,'aconvert
abha I. from Zoroastrianism, who was catholicus from 536 to 552, went to
Edessa, studied Greek there under a teacher named Thomas,' and
with his help translated the whole of the Old Testament into
Sydac, and perhaps also the New. This statement rests on the
authority of the author of the Kiidb al-ilajdal (Man ion Solaiman,'
about the middle of the 12th century, supplemented and abridged
by 'Amr ibn Matta of Tirhan, who lived towards the middle of the
14th century),' of 'Abbd-isho', bishop of Nisibis (died 1318), and
of Bar-Hebraeus (dieif 1286) ; and there appears to Be no reason to
doubt their word."
>Iassor- Before quitting the subject of the Tersions of Holy Scripture we.
■irticMSS. qiust devote a few words to the Massoretic MSS. of the Nestorians
and Jacobites.'' In the year 1721 Assemani made mention in the
Sibliotheca Orienialis (ii. 283), on the authority of Bar-Hebrjeus in
the Ausar Edze, of a "versio Karkaphensis, hoc est Montana, qua
videlicet incoloe montium utuntur." ^ About the meaning of these
words scholars disputed, and some searched for MSS. of the alleged
version, but in vain. At last, N. Wiseman (afterwards cardinal),
guided by the light of another passage in the Sibliotheca Orienialis
(ii. 499, 500, No. xxii.), recognized in Cod. Vat. cliii. a copy of
what he believed to be the Karkaphensian version.'^ Later re-
searches, more especially those of the Abbe Slartin, have corrected
these errors. The JISS. of the Karkaphensian tradition, of which
there are ten in our European libraries, are now known to contain
a philological and grammatical tradition of the pronunciation and
punctuation of Holy Writ and sometimes of other ^vTitings.'* Syria
was rich in schools and colleges ; most of its towns possessed in-
stitutions where instruction was given, more especially to students
of theology, in the reading and exposition of the Greek and Syriac
Scriptures and their commentators. Such were the great " Persian
school " of Edessa, which was destroyed,- on account of its Nestorian
tendencies, in 489 ; the school of Nisibis ; of M^hoze near Seleucia ;
of the mcTiastery of Dor-Koni or Dair-Kunna ; of the monastery
of Ken-neshre or the Eagles' Nest, on the left bank of the
Eupli rates, opposite Je.-abis ; of the Daira 'EUaita, or monastery of
St Gabriel and St Abraham, at Mosul ; and many others." Every
such school or college had its teachers of reading and elocution,
mahgeySne and makriyanl (or makeryane), who taught their pupils
to prouounce, add the vowel-points, and interpunctuate correctly, '^
1 See Noldeke, in Z.D.M.G.. xxii. (1868), p. 4-13 sq.
2 M6S. Codd. Bibl. Apost. Vatic. Cata*ogu% ii. No. xix. p. 70 sq.
3 N. Test. Verss. Syriacm SimpltT, FhiJo:reniana, et Mierosolymitana, Copen-
hagen, 1TS9 ; see also Martin, Introd., p. 237 sg.
4 See Noldeke, he. cit., pp. 521, 527 ; Land, Anecd. Syr., iv. pp. 227.229.
6 The remaining literature in this dialect (all of it published by Land) con-
sists of a few hymns (pp. 111-113),. lives of saints (pp. 169, 170), and theological
fragments (pp. 171-210). One fragment (p. 177) contains the title of & homily
of John Cbrysostom. 6 Properly M!ir(i)-ablia.
7 B.O., iii. 1, 8i>; compare ii. 411. 8 See p. 852, note 10.
fi See Hoffmann, Aus::vgf aus s^iriscJien Al-ten peTsischer Mdrtyrcr, pp. 6, 7.
10 See B.O., ii. 411-412, iii. 1, 75; Bar-Hebraeus, Chron. Eccks., ed. Abbeloos
nnd Lamy, ii. 89 ; Martin, Introd., pp. 292-294.
11 See Jiartin, Tradition KarkaphiemU ou Id Massore clia les SyrienSf Paris,
1870 (frcn Joum. Asial.), and Introd., pp. 276-291.
12 In the Vatican Catalogue (vol. iii. 287, No. clii.) he translates the -words
«l:h mashl€tndnii.thd larkEphaitd by " jjuxta traditionem verticalen (!) : hoc est,
Montanorum in Phcenice et Mesopotamia degentium."
13 See his Horj! Syriacx, Rome, 1823, p. 78 : H. Symhclse Philologies ad Hist.
Versionnm .Syriac. vet. fadcris. Partic^ila privia ; de versionibus generatim,
lUindc de Peschito, p. 147; III. Particula secunda ; recensionem. Karkcphenscm
nunc primum describens. We need not here indicate Wiseman's mistakes, but
it IS a pity to see them all reproduced even in the third edition of Scrivener's
flnin Introduction, 1SS3.
1* See Hoffmann, Opuscula Kestoriana, 1S80, p. v. sq.
15 See, for example, B.O., iii. 1, 341, col. 2 at the foot, and iii. 2, cmzliv. sq.
16 Hoffmann, Opusc. Aeste^., i». vii. ; Martin, Introd., p. 2S9.
before they were passed on to the higher classes of the eskolayi'
bddkoke or malllphdne, that is, the professors of exegesis and doctors
of theology." The more difficult words and, phrases of Soripture
were gradually collected and written down so as to form " collect-
anea," lukkdle dha-sheinahe, or "fasciculi," karrdsc dliashfmdhe,
and the union of these composed a kithabhd dha-kirdyaihd, or "book
of readings," in -vvhich it was shown by means of vowel-points and
other signs how each word was to be pronounced and accentuated.'*
One such volume in the British Museum (Add. 12138, dated 899)
represents the work of a Nestorian student in the convent of Mar
Gabriel at Harran" ; but the other MSS. extant in -the different
libraries of Europe ^ -are of Jacobite origin and have a common
source, the scholastic tradition of the convent of Karkaphetha, or
" the Skull," at the village of Maghdal or Mijdal near Kesh-'aina
or Eas-'ain.*' Siich are, for example. Cod. Vat., No. clii., now
cliii., described by Assemani {Catal., iii. 287) and Wiseman (Harm
Syr., p. 151); Cod. Paris, Ancien fonds 142, described by Zoten-
berg {Catal, p. 30, No. 64) and Martin {Tradition Karkaphienne,
p. 36); Cod. Brit. Mus. Add. 7183, described by Rosen {Catal,
p. 64, No. xlii.), and 12178, described by AVright {Catal, p. 108).
From these and similar MSS., as well as from the words of Bar-
Hebraeus,*- it appears thaf the Karkephaye were the monks of the
convent of Karkaphetha ; that they were Westerns or Occidentals,
therefore Jacobites ; and that one of their chief authorities, if not
the actual originator of the compilatio- , was Jacob bishop of Edessa.
Accordingly, the marginal notes inuicate various readings from
Syriac MSS., from the LXX., and from the Harklensian version-,
as well as from different fathers and teachers.^. To the collection
of words and phrases from the Peshitta version is added in several
of these MSS. a similar, though shorter, collection from the Hark-
lensian version and from the principal works of the Greek fathers
which were read in translations in the schools,-* followed by tracts
on different points of orthography, grammar and ptmctuation.^
We have spoken above (p. 824) of the deutero-canobical books of -^PO"
the Old Testament. Other apoqrypha may now be noticed more "q}[
briefly ; e.g., Ps. cli. (in the heiaplarversion of Paul of Telia) ; the
Farva Genesis, or Ziber Jubilxorum, a fragment of which has been
edited by Ceriani {Monumenta, voh ii. fasc. 1, p. ix.) ; the Testament
of Adam -^ ; the History of Joseph antl Asyath (Asenath), translated
by Moses of Aggel"; the History of Sanherib, his Vizir Ahikar or
Hikar, ^d his Disciple Nadhan.^ Many similar books exist in
Arabic, some of them probably translated from lost Syriac originals.
The names of Daniel and Ezra "the scribe" are prefixed to lata
apocalyptic works,''' and even to almanacs containing prognostica-
tions of the weather, kc^ The list of apocrypha of the New Testa-
ment is also tolerably extensive. We may mention the Proi-
cvangelium Jacobi ; the Gospel of Thomas the Israelite, or of the
Infancy of our Lord ; the Letters of Abgar ap-' our Lord ; the Letters
of Herod and Pilate ; prayers ascribed to :<■ ohn the Baptist ; the
TranSittis, Assumptio, or Koi/iijais Beatae J'lrginis, extant in four or
five redactions " ; Acts of the Apostles, such as St John, St Philip,
St Matthew and St Andrew, St Paul and Thecla, and St Thomas «j
the Doctrine of St Peter ^ ; .and the Apocalypse of St Paul." Others
17 HofTmann, op. cit., pp. ix., xxi. What the whole curriculum of such a
student should be, according to the mind of Bar-Hebneus in the .13th century,
may be seen from' the B.O., iii. 2, 937-938 {Nomocanon, translat«d by J. A.
Assemani, in Mai, Scriptt. Vett. Nova. Coll., x. cap. viL % 9, pp. 54-56).^--
18 Hoffmann, op. cit,, pp. vi., -vil.
19 See Wright, Cat^il., p. 101. •'> Martin. Introd., p. 291.
21 Hoffmann, in Z.DJil.G., xrxii. (1878), p. 745 ; ond in Stade's Zeilsc&rt/i /iir
d. AttUst. WisseTUchafi, 1881, p. 159. 22 Martin, op. cil., pp. 122, 129.
23 See Wiseman, op. cit., p. 178; Martin, op. cit., pp. 76, 77, 133; Rosen,
Catat, pp. 65, 66 ; Wright, Catal,, p. 109. Among these occur qJ and J„sa-
The investigations of Hoffmann (in Stade's Zeilxhri/i, ]8Sl,'p. 159) and Duval
(Joum. Asiat., 1834, p. 560) have made it certain that Q^ designates not the
Peshitta, nor Jacob of Edessa, but one Tiibhana (perhaps sumamed "the
Beardless"), an eminent teacher at Resh-'aina. His colleague Sabha was
probably the famous scribe Sabha, -who -wrote Brit Mus. Add. 14423, 14430
(724), and 12135, ff. 1-43 (726).
21 Namely, (Pseudo-)Dionysiu8 Areopagita, Gregory Nazianzen (2 vols.), the
works of Basil, the epistles of Gregory and Basil, John Philoponua (the
AtaiTtpr^s), and Severus of Antioch iBomilix Catkcdrales and certain synodical-
letters relating to the council of Antioch). A fuller list is given by Assemani,
B.O. , iii. 2, cmxxrvii. 35.
25 See Phillips, A Letter of Mar Jacob, Bishop of Edessa, on Syriac Orthcgraphy,
Ac, 1869 (Appendix iii. pp. 85-96, issued separately in 1870) ; Martin, Jacobi
epi Edcsseni Epistola ad Ge^rgium epum Sarugenstm de OrtJiographia Syriaca,
&c.,1869.
56 Wright, Catal., p. 1242 ; see Renan, in the Journ. Asial., November and
December 1353, p. 427, and Wright, Contributioix to the Apocryphal Literatun
of the New Testament, I860, p. 61.
27 Wright, Catal, p. 1047 ; Land, Anecd. Syr., iii. 15-45.
28 Wright, Catal., p. 1207, col. 1 ; Hoffmann, Ausziige aus syrischsn Akteit
persischer Mdrtyrcr, 1880, p. 182 ; see for the Syriac text Bnt. Mus. Orient. 2313,
and a MS. in the collection of the S.P.C.K. (now presented by the Society to
the university of Cambridge). 29 Wright, Caial., pp. 9, 1065.
30 Wright, Catal., p. 352, col. 2 ; Brit. Mus. Orient. 20S4, £ 1, Kethabhd dJU-
Shidh^e dhi-zabkne dke-Dhd)ii'el nihliiyd.
31 Most Of these are published in Wrighfs'Conrri&ufious; see also the J{>vfmiZ
of Sacred Literature, 1865, voL vi. 417, vol. vii. 129 ; and B. H. Co\Tper, Th&
Apocryphal Gospels, &c., 1S67.
32 See Wright, Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles, 2 vols., 1871.
33 Cureton, Ancient byriac Documents, pp. 35-41.
34 Translated by Zingerlc in Heidenheim's Vicrtcljahrssehrift. iv. p. 139 i^.
2n-4Thl CE.NT.j
SYRIAC LITBRAlTURE
827
cf these aporrj-jilia are extant in Arabic, uut the Syriac originals
iiivo. not yet been recovered. To these may be added such works
as the Didasealia Aposiolontm, edited (anonymously) by P. de
Lijirde in 185-J ; extracts P«im the Constilutioncs Aposiolorum,
ascribed to Clement, in the same editor's RcliquiiB Juris £cclcs.
Antiq., pp. 2-32, H-QO ; and the Dodrina Apostolornm, in Curcton's
Ancient Syriac Documents, pp. 21-35, and in Rcliquix Juris Ecclcs.
Antiq. (under the title oi Dodrina Addxi), pp. 32-44.
Into a description cf the service-books of the Syrian Church in
its ditferent sects — Nestorians, Jacobites, Maronites, and Malkites
— we cannot here enter.' The bare cntuncration of the various
psalters, lectionaries, missals, &c., would far exceed our present
limits. The oldest Syriae psalter in our European collections is not
earlier than 600 (Brit. Mus. Add. 17110), and the seric-s of lection-
aries commences with the 9th century. Of anaphor.-e or liturgies
it would be easy to specify some sixty.* The oldest of all is a
iiagment of the anaphora of Diodorus of Tarsus (in the British
Museum, Add. 14699, ff. 20, 21), of tlie 6th century, vhich has
been edited and translated by Bickell.^
Besides the versions of Holy Writ and other works enumerated
above, the literature of Syria comprises a vast amount of matter,
interesting not merely to the Orientalist but also to the classical
scholar, the theologian, and the historian. Some portions of this
literature we must now endeavour to pass under review.
The long scries of Syrian writers is headed by the name of Bar-
Daisan or Bardesanes, "the last of the Gnostics."'' He was born
at Edessa on 11th July 154,^ and seems to have been the son of
heathen parents of rank. Of the manner of his conversion to
Christianity, and how he came to deviate from orthodoxy, we are
rninformed. Part of his life he spent at the court of Edessa ; then lie
Detook himself as a missionary to the rude niouutainecrs of Armenia,
and finally settled down in the fortress of Anium, where he prob-
ably remained till his death in 222. '^ He wrote, we are told, a
History of Armenia, which Bloses of Chorene used in a Greek trans-
lation ; ffypomncmala Indica, compiled from the oral information
which he obtained from an Indian embassy passing through Edessa
on its way to the Koman court ; and polemical treatises against
the polytheism of the heathens and the dualism of llarcion. He
and his son Harmonius were poets, and their hymns were greatly
admired and imitated. Even Ephraim could not help admitting
their merits, whilst he reviled them.' Of these works, however,
only a few fragments have been preserved by later writers.^ The
famous dialogue Hepl elfiappL^fT]^ or Dc Fato, which the voice of
antiquity has unanimously ascribed to Bardesanes, was in reality
composed by his disciple Philip, and doubtless presents us with
an accurate account of his master's teaching. The Syriac title is
KUhabhd dhi-NCimusc d/i'Alhravidt/id (The Book of the Laws of
the Countries).^
Of Simeon bar Sabba'e ("the Dyers' Son"), bishop of Seleucia
and Ctesiphon, and Jlilles, bishop of Susa, we know little beyond
the fact of their martyrdom in the great persecution of the Chris-
tians by Shabhor or Sapor II., which began in 339-340.'" Simeon
is said by 'Abhd-isho' " to have written "epistles,"'- which seem
10 be no longer extant. To him are also ascribed sundry hymns,'^
and a work entitled Kitltdbhd dh'Alhdhdthd (The Book of the
Fathers), which, according to Sachau, ti-eats of the heavenly and
cartlily hierarchy." The writings of Milles are stated by 'Abhd-
aud by PerkiDS, Joumfrl of the American Oriental Society, viii. p. 182 sq. ; rc-
pristcd in the Journal of Sacred Literature, J.inuary 1865, p. 372 sq.
J The reader is referred to tlie following works : J. A. Assemani, Coilcz Litnrg.
Ecdcsix Univer^a, 13 vols., Rome, 1740-60 ; Renaudot, Liturtriarum Orient. Col.
tectia, 2 vols., Klris, 1716 ; Etheridgc, The Si/rian Ct.urches, titeir Early History,
LittiTtfies, and Literature, London, 1846 ; Badger, The Nestorians and their
jatuais, 2 vols., London, 1852 ; Howard, The Christians of St Thomas and
their Liturgies, Oxford, 1864 ; Denaingcr, Jiitus Oricntalium, Coptorum, Syronim,
et Armcnorum in. atlminislrandis saeramcntis, 2 vols., Wiirxljurg, 1863-64; J.
Herinus, Comment, de Saeris Ecclcs. Ordinaiionibvs, &.c, Paris, 1055. Alitwcro.
1695 ; Bickcll, Conspectus Rei Syrorun Literari/r, chaps, vii.-x.
* Sec a complete list in Bickcll's Conspectus, pp. C5-6B ; comp. also Ncale
and Littlcdales LititrQics of SS. Mark, James, &c., 2d ed., 186^, p. 146, and
Appendix i.
» See his Coispectus, pp. 63, 71-72. The Syriac text is given in Z.D.M.G., xm'il.
(1873), pp. 608-613.
* See Mcrx, Bardesanes von EJessn, 1863; Hilgcnfeld, Eardesanes, der Jctzte
Gnostiker, 1864 ; Halin, Bardesanes Gnosticvs Syrorum primus llymnoloqus, 1S19.
* So the Chronieon Edcsscnum, in Assclnani, B.O., i. 381>, and Bar-Uebneus,
Chron. Eccles., i. 47 ; but Llias of Nlslbis, as cited by Abbclooa in his notes on
Bar-Uebncus, loc. cit., places his birth in 131.
6 Har.Hcbraeua, Chron. Ecctet., i. 47.
7 E.g., Opern Syr., ii. 439 D, 553 P, last line.
8 Compare the hymn in the Syriac Acts of St Thomas (Wright, Apocryphal
Acts, p. 274); Lipsius, Die Apocryphen-Apostelgcschichlen nnd -AposteUesjenden,
i. 292 sq.
» It was firet edited by Cnrcton, with an English translation, In his 5pfcl-
legivtn Syriacum ; see also T. & T. Clark's AntC'Sicene Christian Library, vol.
xxii. p. 85 s'f., andMorx, op. cit., p. 25 sq.
10 See a. K. .Assomani, Acta Sundontm ifartyrum, I. 10 -t^., 66 tq,
11 Or 'EbOrlli-yeslia', bishop of Niaibis, whose bibliogranhieal Cataloqve has
been edited by Abraham Ecchellensis, Home, 1653, and [>y J. S. Assomani In
his B.O., iii. 1. There is an English translation of it by Dadgcr, The iktstorians,
ii. 361-3:9. li B.O., iii. 1, 51.
IS Assemani, Acta SanctorHni Martyrum, i. 5 ; Rosen, Cataloyue, p. 14, col. 2,
.aa; Overbcck, 5. E))hrttemi, 4:c., Opera Sctccla, p. 424.
1* Kiir:es Verzeichniss der Sachau'schen Sammlung nrtsdter Bandsehrtftcn,
Derlin, 1:>S5, p. : . and No. lOS. 3.
ishS' {lot. cit.) to have been "epistles and discourses (menirt) on
vajious subjects"; but of these time has also robbed us.
The name of Jacob (or St James) of Nisibis " is far more widely
known. As bishop of that city he was present at the council of
Nicsea. Ho lived to witness the outbreak of war between the
Romans and the Persians, and is said to have delivered the city
by his prayers from the latter power. He died in the same yeSr
(333).'° To him has been ascribed, on the authority of Gcnnadius
of Marseilles" and of the ancient Armenian version," a collection
of homilies, the Syriac text of which has only been recovered and
published within the last few years. George, bishop of the Arab
tribes, WTiting to a friend in the year 714, is aware that the author
was a certain "Persian sage," hakkimd Plidrsdyd, and discusses
his date and position in the church," but does not think of identi-
fying him witli Jacob of Nisibis. Later writers are better informed.
Bar-Hebrreus knows the name of Pharhidh as the author™:
'Abhd-isho' gives the older form of Aphrahat or 'A^podr^s-' ; and
he is also cited by name by EUas of Nisibis (11th century) in his
Chronicle— The real author of the twenty-two alphabetical Homv
lies and the separate homily "On the Cluster" is now, therefore,
known to have been Aphraates, a Persian Christian, who took thi
name of Jacob, and was subsequently famous as " the Persian sage.'
He was probably bishop of the convent of Mar Matthew nca;
JIosul, and composed his works, as he himself tells us, in the year
337, 344, and 345, during the great persecution under Sapor II. '^
A junior contemporary of Aphraates was Ephraim,-' commonl;
called Ephraem Syrus, "the prophet of the Syrians," the mos
celebrated father of the Syrian Church and certainly one of it
most voluminous and widely read writers. He was born of heathen
parents at Nisibis, but became the pupil of the bishop Jacob, and
finished his education at Edessa. The incidents of his career are
too well known to need recapitulation hcre.^ His death took
place in June 373.-° His works have been largely translated into
Greek,-' Armenian, Coptic, Arabic, and Ethiopic.-' They consist
of commentaries on the Scriptures, expository sermons, and a vast
mass of metrical homilies and hymns on every variety of theologi-
cal subject.-' Many of these last are composed in his favourite
seven-syllable metre, in stanzas of different length ; but he fre-
quently used other metres and mixed strophic art-angementsr^'
Of Ephraim's commentaries on the Old Testament but little has
reached us in the original Syriac.^' ilost of what has been pub-
lished in £phrttc>ni Opera Syr., vols. i. and ii., is derived from a
large Catena Patrum, compiled by one Sevcrus, a monk of Edessa,
in 861.^- Of his commentary on the Dia-lcssaron, preserved only in
an early Armenian translation, we have spoken above (p. 825). In
the same language there is extant a translation of his commentary
on the Pauline epistles.'' Vol. ii. of the Koman edition contains
some exegetical discourses (pp. 316-395), the number of which has
been largely increased by Overbcck {S. Ephraemi Syri, kc. Opera
Sclccta, pp. 74-104). In the same work will be found two of the
discourses against early heresies addressed to Hypatius and Domnus
(pp. 21-73 ; comp. Wright, Catal., p. 766, col. 2), two tracts on
the love of the Most High (pp. 103-112), and the epistle to the
'^ Kal Sup/?)! T^Soi' eUa, xal fioreo irci'ra, iiiaijiw, Et'^pdnji' SiaHi! :
Liglitfoot, S. Ignatius, i. 480.
JG This date is given by the Chronic. Edcss. (B.O., i. 395), by Dionysiusof Tcll-
MahrC- (ibid., p. 17), by the .so-called LiherChnliyharum (in Land, Anecd. Syr., 1.
4), by Klias of Nisibis (.see Abbcloos's note in Bar-llebrteus, C/iron. Ecelts., fL
31), and inferentially by Ephraim (BickcU, 5. Ephraemi Syri Cannula ^isilMua,
p. 20). 17 In his De Viris Itlustriljus, written before 496.
18 Published by N. AntoncUi (Rome, 1750) with a Latin trouslation, and re-
printed in Gall.indins, Bibt. I'et. Patrum, vol. v. The mistake has passed (no
doubt through the Arabic) to the Elhiopic translation of the nfth homily; sco
Zotenbtrg, Catal. des MSS. Ethiopiens de la Bibl. Xat., p. 248, col. 2, No. 17.
19 See De Lagardc, Anal. Syr., p. 103 ; Tlie Homilies of Aphraates, cd. Wright,
p. 19 ; Ryssel, Ein BrirJ Georgs, Bisehofs der Arabrr, is-.^
M C/irtm. £Mte., ii. 34. ai AC, iii. 1, 85. M .«. p. 38.
23 Wright, .4pftraf(fcs, pp. 440 and 507; comp. Sassi Sup.
Pirs. Scrriiones Homiteticos, 1878 ; .T. Forget, De Vila i ■ . 'rj.r,
1882; Uickell in Thalhofer, Bibliolhek der Kirehr.. n here
eight of tlio homilies are translated. 2i ^\v
25 See tiie Acta S. Ephraemi in the Homan ed. of hi • ' '"-Irak
(Petrus Dcncdictus) and the Asscmanls, pp. xiiii.-Uai. ; and coLip. iiickell,
CoTwprc^i5, p. 26, note U. «,,',,
M Sec the various authorities cited by Assemnnl, B.O., I. 54, note; BlcKell,
Carmina Kisibena, p. 9, note ; Gabriel Ctirdahl, Litter Thesatiri de Arte Pveiiea
SyrorKm, 1875, pp. 0-13.
27 Kven Photius speaks with respect of the rhil.-'iiiMl fcilont of Ephraim, so
far as he could Judge of It from these Impcrf..! i.J, Bekkcr, p. I60J.
2' See B.O., i. 149 sq. -■> . ' : "I- I. "I-
80 Compare, for Instance, Blekell, Cam. ^ !■. !"• ""•• S^M^n
line consists of a ccrt^iin fixed number of syll
twelve, &c. In the older writers there is ■
appears, we believe, among the Westerns, in
Real nutris, like those of the Grrel^s and A
with rimo, were wholly unknown ti the Syri:.
as regard;! outward fonn, lieyond the level of A
whilst diHtltntoof rime, at least Imposed up .iTii^-ivrs me r.^c....-n i-i „
limited litil fixed number of svllnblrs. , , « .
31 Gem .ui and Exmlus in Cod. Vat. ex., and Ilvo leaves or OenmU In Ood.
Vat cix. (hc e Assemnnl, Catal., III. p. 125).
»1 Cod. Vat. clll., nrit Mus. Add. I2I44. Sovems nsed f '-oni.
mcntary dllferenl from that In Cod. Vat. ex.; ice Uickell 1« :
comp. Pohliiiann, S. Apftrncml Syri Comntnlarionim in «.»..■, ■ u «»
catd. vail, maavtcripliii et In edit. Item, impranu, t parts, lliu-^-04.
n See Dickcll, Conspectus, p. 20.
828
SYRIAC LITERATURE
[4th cent.-
Snonts who dwelt in the mountains (pp. 113-131). Of metrical
■writings the s?me book contains (pp. 339-354) the hymns against
Julian the Apostate (pp. 1-20), and the conclusion of the hymns
on Paradise (wanting in the Koman cd., vol. iii. 698).* Other
metrical homilies were published by Zlngerle^; but far more im-
portant, as having a real historical interest, are the Camilla
Nisibena, or "Hymns relating to the City of Nisibis," edited by
BickeU inlS66. These poems, which deal in great part with the
history of Nisibis and its bishops and of adjacent cities (such as
Anzit or Hanzit, Edessa, and Harran), were composed, according to
Bickell (Introd.', p. 6 sq.), between the years 350 and 370 or there-
abouts.^ A large quantity of hitherto unpublished matter is also
contained in Lamy, S. Ephraemi Sijri Eymni et Sermones, vol. L,
1882, and vol. ii., 18S6,— c.<7., fifteen hymns on the Epiphany, a
discourse on our Lord, several metrical homilies (in particular for
Passion week, the Resurrection, and New or Low Sunday), hymns
on the Passover or unleavened bread {Be Azymis) and on the Cruci-
fixion, acts of Ephraim from" the Paris MS. Ancien fonds 144,
commentaries on portions of the Old Testament, other metrical
homilies, and hymns on the nativity, the Blessed Virgin Mary,
Lent, &c. The so-called Testo.mcntroi Ephraim* has been printed
'in the Opera Grxca, ii. pp. 395-410 %(with various readings at p.
433), and again by Overbeck (op. cit., pp. 137-156).'
£phTaim!» Notwithstandiug his vast fecundity and great popularity as a
■oupHa theological writer, Ephraim seems not to have had any pupils
worthy to, take his place. In the Testament we find mentioned
with high commendation the names of Abha, Abraham, Simeon,
Mara of Aggel, and Zenobius of Gczirta,' to whom we may add
llsaac' and Jacob.' Two, on the other hand, are named with de-
cided reprobation as heretics, namely, Paulonas (nauXapas) or
Paulinus (TlavKivo^) and Arwadh or Arwat.^ Of these, Abha is
cited by later writers and compilers as the author of a commentary
on the Gospels, a discourse on Job, and an exposition of Ps. xlii.
9.'" Paulonas or Paulinus is probably the same who is mentioned
by^'Abhd-isho'" as having written " madhrashe or'metrical homi-
lies, discourses against inquirers, disputations against Marcion,
and a treatise concerning believers and the creed.'-' Zenobius,
who was deacon of the church of Edessa, according to the same
authority,'- composed treatises against Maicion and PamphyUus (?),
-besides sundry epistles. He was also the teacher of Isaac of
AJitioch, of whom we shall spe.ik shortly,
tialaiand Better known than any of these disciples of Ephraim are two
Cyril- writers who belong to the close of this century and the beginning
wna. of the next, Balai and Cyrillona. The date of Balai or Balffius,
chorepiscopus (as it seems) of the diocese of Aleppo, is fixed by his
being mentioned by Bar-Hebrteus " after Ephraim, but before the
time of the council of Ephesus (431). Acacius, bishop of Aleppo,
whom he celebrates in one of his poems, must therefore, as BickeU
says,'* be the same Acacias who had a share in converting Eabbula
to Christianity," and died at an extreme old age (it is said 110
years) in 432. His favourite metre was the' pentasyllable, which
is known by his name, as the .heptasyUabic by that of Ephraim,
and the twelve-syllable line by that of Jacob of Seriigh. Some of
his poems have been edited by Overbeck in the often cited collection
S. Ephraetni Syri, kc. Opera Selcda, pp. 251-336, namely, a poem
on the dedication of the newly built church in the town of Ken-
neshrin (Kinnesrin), five poems in praise of Acacius, the late
bishopof Aleppo, the first and eighth homilies on the history of
Joseph, specimens of prayers, and a fragment on the death of
Aaron.'* Cyrillona composed a poem "on the locusts, and on
I The last hymu (p. 351) is genmne, as the very fact of its being an acrostic
shows (see Bickell, Compcclus, p. 19) ; whereas the metrical homily on tUe bap-
tism of Constantine (pp. 355-361) is certainly spurious (Bickell, loc. dt.).
- S. P. Ephraevu Syri Sermoms duo, Brixen, 1869 (see B.O., i. 149, col. 1, No.
31); Monumenta Syriaca ex Bomanis Codd. coUecta, i. 4 (B.O., loc. cit. No. 30).
Zingerle has rendered many of Bphraim's works into German, e-p.. Die heilige
Mujse der Syrtr : Gesange des h. KirchenvcLters Ephraem, 1S33 ; Gesdnge gegen die
Griibler iiber die Gehcimnissc Gottes, 1834 ; Festkrdme aus Libanoits Garten, 1846 ;
Veff h. Kirchenvaters Ephraem aiisgcwdklte Sckriftcn, a^ d. Griechischen uiid
Syrischen uebersetzt, 6 vols., 2d ed;, 1845-47 ; Die Itedeii dcs h. Ephraem ^gen die
Ketzer, 1850 ; Reden des h. Ephraem dcs Syrers iiber Sclbstverldugnungund einsfime
JWbensweise, mit einem Bric/e dessdbcn an Einaiedler, 1871. Translations into
English have been attempted, though with less success, by Morris (Setect Works
0/5. Ephraem the Syrian, 184T)and Burgess (Select Metrical Hymns and Homilies
of Ephraem Syrus, 1853 ; The Repentance of Nineveh, &c., 1853).
3 Comp. Bickell, Conspectus, p. 28, note 21. < See B.O., i. 141, No. 8.
6 That it has been Interpolated by a later hand is shown by the long and
^purposeless digression on Moses and Pharaoh (Op. Gr., ii. 405) and the story
of Lamprotate at the end (ibid., p. 409), as also by the stanzas regarding the
vine which Ephraim saw flowing out of his mouth when he was an infant
(ibid., p. tOS). 6 B.O.,t. SS, 144. 7 JJid., i. 165.
8 See Wright, Cafal, p. 992, col. 2, No. 36.
> Also written ^qj j)=5mat and i,A^Jo] = ^'''t- See Overbeck's text,
ip. 147, and the variants, p. xxx. The name seems to have been hopelessly
corrupted by the scribes, w See Wright, Catal., pp. 831, col. 1, and 1002, col. 1.
II B.O., iii. 1, 170. '- Ibid., i. 168 ; iii. 1, 43. ,
13 In a passage cited by Asserasni, B.O., i. 166. Cardahi (Liber fhes., pp.
25-27) places Balai's death in 460, but gives, as usual, no authority. This seems
too late.
14 Conspectus, p. 21 ; Thalhofer, BiUiothel: der Kirchenvdter, 41, p. 68,
15 Overbeck, S. Bphraemi Syri, 4-c., Opera Selecla, p. 162, 1. 20.
18 See also Wcnig, Scnola Syriacin Chrestomathia, pp. 160-162; Bickell, Con-
spectus, p. 46, note 5 ; Tlmlhofer, Bibliothek, 41, p. 67j and 44.,
(divine) chastisement, and on the invasion of the Huns,"" In
which he says : " The North is distressed and full of wars ; and
if Thou be neglectful, 0 Lord, they will again lay me waste. If
the Huns, 0 Lord, conquer me, why do f seek refuge with the
martyrs? If their swords lay me waste, why do I lay hold on ITiy
great Cross ? If Thou givest up my cities unto them, where is the
glory of Thy holy Church ? A year is not yet at an end since they
came forth and laid us waste and took my children captive ; and
lo, a second time thSy threaten our land that they will humble it."
Now the invasion of the Huns took place in 395," and this poem
must have been written in the following year (396). The few re-
maining writings of Cyrillona, composed in various metres, hare,
been edited by Bickell in the Z.D.U.G., xxvii. p. 566 sq., and!
translated by him in Thalhofer's BiUiothel-, 41, pp. 9-63.'^ BickeU"
is inclined to identify this Cyrillona with another writer of the
same period, 'Abhsamya, a priest of Edessa, Ephraim's sister'^
son and a pupil of Zenobius ; but his reasons do not seem to !M
sufficient. The Chron.- Edess. {B.O., i. 401) states.that 'Abhsamya
composed his hymns and discourses on the invasion of the Huns
in 40't : and Dionysius of TeU-Mahre {B.O., i. 169) speaks of him
in the year 397. Bar-Hebrsus is less precise as to the date: after
mentioning the death of Chrysostom (in 407), he adds that
about this time Theodore of Mopsuestia died (429).and 'Abhsamya
flourished, who "composed many discourses in the (licptasyUabic)
metre of Mar Ephraim" on the invasion of the'Huus."' That
'Abhsamya may have taken the name of CyriUona at his ordination
is of course possible, but it seems strange that none of these three
writers shou'.d.baTe mentioned it, if such wcfe the case. On Bar-
Hebrsus's statement regarding the metre which he used in his
discourses we do not insist ; he might easily make a mistake in
such a matter.
During the latter part of the 4th century, too, there lived in AbhA
the island of Cyprus the abbot Gregory, who appears to have been Gregoi
sent thither from some monastery in Palestine as the spiritual
head of the Syriac-speaking monks in the island.*^ He cherished
friendly relations with Epiphanius, afterwards bishop of Salamia
or Constantia (367-403), and a monk named Theodore. To these
are addressed several of his discourses and letters ; others are
general exhortations to the monks under his charge.^ The dis-
courses seem to be only portions of a work on the monastic life,
which has not come down to us in a complete form, the "book"
mentioned by 'Abhd-isho' in B.O., iii. 1, 191. In the letters he
addresses Epiphanius as an older man speaking with authority
to a younger ; it is to be presumed, therefore, that they wera
written before Epiphanius became bishop.
With the 5th century commences the native historical literature LiveJ
of Syria. Previous to this time there existed martyrologies and saint*
lives of saints, martyrs, and other holy men, drawn up, in part at and
least, to meet the requirements of the services of the church. Such mart j
are, for example, the ancient martyrologyin a manuscript of 411** ;
the Doctrine of Addai, in its present shape a product of the latter
half of the 4th century^ ; the Hypomnemata of Sharbel ; and the
Martyrdoyis of Bar-samya, Bishop of Edessa, and the Deacon Hahhiih,
which all belong to about the same period.-^ This sort of legendary
writing was carried on to a much later date." The JUstory of
Beth Sllokh and its Martyrs, for instance, can hardly have been
composed before the 6th century, if so early''; and the Acts of
Marl must be stiU later.'' No larger coUection of such documents
had, however, been attempted before the time of Marutha, bishopMar'.!
of Maiperkat,3» ^ man of much weight and authority, who wasof ^lt
twice sent by the emperor Theodosius II. on embassies to theP® *
Persian monarch Ya^degerd I., and -presided at the councUs of
Seleucia or Ctesiphon, under the catholics Isaac and Yabh-alaha,
17 See Wright, Catal., p. 671, col. 1, No. 6, a,
18 See CTiron. Edess. in B.O., i. 400, No. xl.; Dionysius of TeU-Mahre, ibid.,
note 1 ; and an anonymous continuer of Eusebius in Land's Anecd. Syr., i. 8,
1. 2. Joshua StyUtea (ed. Wright, p. 10, L 1) specifles A. Qr. 707, which begau
with October 395.
19 See also Wright, Catal, pp. 670-671; Overbeck, S. Ephraemi, &c., Opert,
Selecta, pp. 379-3S1 : Bickell, Conspectus, p. 34 ; Cardihl, li6er Thes., pp. 27-29,
who places his death in 400.
20 See his Conspectus, p. 21 ; Thalhofer; Bibl, 41, pp. 13, 16 (in tlie note).
SI Bar-Hebrseus, Chron. Ecdes., i. 133.
=! See B.O., i. 170-171. 23 Ibid., i. 172.
M Brit Mus. Add. 12150, f. 252, edited by Wright in the Journal of Sacred
Literature, 1865-66, viii. 45, 423 ; see the Acta Hunctorum, October, voL lit
• 183-185. It can hardly be later than the middle of the 4th century.
£5 Edited in part by Cureton, in his Ancient Syriac D'Kuments, from MSS. of
the 5th and 6th centuries in the British Museum ; and in full by Phillips ftoni
a MS. of the 6th century at St Petersburg, 1S76. See also Lellrt dAbgar <m
Histoire de la Conuetsion des tdesscens, translated from the Armenian version,
Venice, 1868 ; Lipsius, Die Edessenische Algar-Sage, 18S0 ; Matthes, Die Edesse-
nischeA bgar-Sage, 1882 ; Mosinger, Acta SS. Martyrum Edessenorum Sarbelii, tie-t
No. 1, 1874. „
M See Cureton, Anc. Syr. Doc, and Eipsius, Die Edess. Algar-Sage, p. 41 SQ
27 See HolTmann, Ausziige aus syr. Akten pers. Mdrtyrer.
28 See Mosinger, Monumenta Syr., ii. 63, and Hoffmann, op. cil., p. 45.
,29 See Abbeloos, Acta S. Maris, 1885, p. 47, where, as Noldeke has pointed
out, the WTiter confounds Ardasher, the first king of the Sasanian dynasty,
with the last king of that line, Tazdegerd UI., who was overthrown by tbe
Arabs in the battle of Nihawand, a.h. 21 (642 A.D.).
30 Called by the Oreeks MartyropoliB, in Syriac MSdhinath Slbde, aod vf
the Arabs Maiyalanl«i]«
Sua CENT.]
Y R
lAC LITERATURE
820
respectively.^ He is sai>I, too, to have bccu a fl<''f»l .I*-^^"^" ,
To Inm 'Abhd-isho" assigns the following works,'- A book ot
niaVtjTdoms, anthems and hymns on the martyrs, and a translation
of the canons of the council of Nic.i;a, with a history of that
council." The last named of these he undertook at the request of
Isaac, catholicus of Seleucia, who died in 416. The canons which
pass under his name are those of the council of Scleucia in 410 =
liut his great work was the Book of Martyrs, containing accounts
of those who suffered for the Christian faith under Sapor II., \az-
de.'erd I., and Bahram V., to which he prefixed two discourses on
thr glory of the martyrs and on their torments. One of these
narratives claims to have been recorded by an eye-witness Isaiah
the son of Hadhbo (or Hadhabhu), of Arzan ( Apfar»)^';), one ol
the Persian king's horsemen.^ Portions of this work ."irvive in
the British Museum in MSS. of the 5th ami 6th centuries as well
as in some of later date both there and in the \at.can. They have
been edited by S. E. Asscmani in the first volume of thereto
Sanctorum Mariyrum, 1748.' The commentary on the Gospels
mentioned by Assemani is really by ilarutha he nraplman of
Taghrith (Tekrit), who is also the author of the anaphora or
liuTr-'V « Of him we shall have occasion to speak afterwards (see
p. ^3% infra). It is possible too that some of the above-.nentioned
Acts may belong not to the work of Marutha but to hat of Alu
the successor ot' Isaac in the see of Seleucia who likewise wrote
a history of the Persian martyrs and a life of his t^^.^^" ^blida
the head of the school in the monastery of Dor-Koni or Dair-Kunua
(where the apostle Mari was buried).* ,„,.,. v r, •„
About this time evil days came upon the Christian church in
Syria. Paul of Samosata, Diodore of Tarsus, an. Theodore of
Mopsuestia had paved the way for Nestorius. The doc nnes of
these writers were warmly espoused by many of the S)nan theo-
logians; and the warfare raged for many years m and around
Edessa, till it ended in the total destruction of t'f^^^."* ^,^[1?°
school by the order of the emperor Zeno (488-489). «> Kabbula,
a native of Ken-neshrin (Kinnesrin), whose father was a heathen
priest but his mother a Cliristi.in, was converted to Christianity
by Eusebius, bishop of Ken-neshrin, and Acacius, bishop of Aleppo.
He voluntarily gave up all his property, forsook his wife, and
became a monk in the convent of Abraham near his native city.
On the death of Diogenes, bishop of Edessa, ho w;as appointed his
successor (411-412). His admiring biographer depicts him as a
model bishop, and he certainly appears to have been active and
energetic in teaching and preaching and attending to the needs of
the poor." In the theological disputes of the day ho seems at hist
to have sided, if not with Nestorius, at least with those who were
averse to extreme measures, such as John, patriarch ot Antiocli,
and his partisans ; but afterwards he joined the opposite party,
and became a warm champion of the doctiiues of Cyril, which he
supported at the council of Edessa (431). From this time onward
he was a staunch opponent of Nestorianism, and even resorted to
such an extreme measure as burning the writings of Theodore ot
Mopsuestia. Hence Ibas in his letter to Mari speaks of him as
"the t\Tant of Edessa," and Andrew of Samosata, writing to
Alexander of Hierapolis in 432, complains bitterly of his persecution
of th3 orthodox (i.e., the Nestorians). He died in August 435.
Of the writings of Rabbulii but little has come down to us. ilicre
is a sermon extant in manuscript," enjoinin- thebestowing of a.ms
on behalf of the souls of the dead and prohibiting all feasting on
the occasion of their commemoration. Another sermon preached
at Constantinople, is directed against the errors of Nestorius
There are also extant canons and orders addressed to the niouks
and clergy of his diocese," and a number of hymns, of which Over-
beck has printed some specimens. '« He also ^<''^'}<^J,<''l?-f fll'f^
Cvril's treatise Dc Ecda in Bominum nostrum J. C. Fide adllico-
dosium Imperatorcm" from a copy which was sent to lum by the
author,'* His biographer iiitended to translate into Syriac a collec-
tion 0 forty-six of his letters, written in Greek " to priests and
emperors and nobles and monks " ; " but of these only a low remain
..0., to Andrew of Samosata, condemning Ins trt;atiso against tlio
twe ve anathemas of Cyril =» ; to Cyril regarding T 'codore o Mop.
8uestia=' : and to Gcmellinus of Perrhe, about certain monks and
other persons who misused the sacred elements as ordinary food.-
1 See 2).0., 1.174 57.: B,ir-ncbneus, CTroii. £«!«., 1. 121, "•''Vnlid < 195
inn ill 1 7? And not* 4. ^ lbid.,lv:. cit. « ifyia., i. ivj.
I ifoLly:CoATsJ.ucin, ct CtcivhoM 7,aWl,« anno 1.10 ; com,,. 8 E.
Assemaiii Cold. MSS. Orient. IlM. Palat. Mcda., p. 04. » B.O., 1. U.
7 b™o "is., ;! d i:i81-194. Tlicre Is a German translation bj Zmscrlo Mle
(dc. rfrr;.. Mdrlyrtr dcs Mormnlaiuks 2 vols., 183b. ^„",„-^ ""•
» Ibid.. 11 401, 111. 1, 309 ; also Abbcloos, Ada S. Marls, pp. 7. sj., m.
II See' ill's' bfoCTapl.y In Ovcrbccit, S. F.fhraemi, kc, Optra Sclata. p. 159 *J.,
csneclaUy pp WIS ; Jranaiated by Blckcll, In Tlmllmfc.r'- BlWio »««:. No«.
in5 101 n BO 1 403. " Codd. MSS. Orient. Uibl. Palat. Mtdtc y. 107.
"u's 'o Overbcck, S'. eX"""'. &-. Opera ^^'''C''^ N'-f „V" =8 Td^ti "'
u r„:r.tV«e'?of£;ir-.x, mbbttl.,Ovcrbeek,^p c|^, pp.„.28.2J9
1» Bee Uverbeck, or- 'I'- P- ^^- "'^■' '■ "
a ni.', pp.''23b.Mfc Tho'ibotUr frmjmeut .houM Mlow Iho longer ono.
Rabbula was succeeded in the see of Edessa (435) by IhibhS 0'
Hibha (Gia:cized Ibas),^ who in his younger days had been one ol
the translators of Theodore's works in the Persian school.-* Ihis,
with his letter to Man the Persian '-^ and other utterances, Icd'tc
his bcin" char-'cd with Nestorianism. He was acquitted by the
two synods of Tyre and Beirut, but condemned by the second council
of F.phesus (449),-"* and Nonnus was substituted in his room. He was
restored however, at the end of two years by the council of Clialce-
don, and sat till October 457, when he was succeeded by Nonnus,^
who in his turn was followed by Cyrus in 471. Besides the writ-
in<-s above-mentioned, 'Abhd-isho' attributes to Ibas -^ "a comrticnt-
ary on Proverbs, sermons and metrical homilies (viadhrashD.ami
a disputation with a heretic"; but none of these appear to have
come down to us. ,..,., r i • 1
During this stormy period the name of Acacius, bishop of AmiU,
is mentioned as the author of certain epistles. =' The great event 01
his life, which is referred by Socrates (bk. vii. 21) to the year 422,
is thus briefly recorded in the Martyrologium Jtomanum Gregoni
XIII (Malines, 1859), 9th April : " Amidse in Mesopotamia sancti
Acatii episcopi, qui pro redimendis captivis etiam ecclesiic vasa
conflavit ac vendidit." The said captives were Persian subjects,
who were thus ransomed and sent back to their king and country.
Acacius was doubtless a favourer of Nestorianism, for his letters
were thought worthy of a commentary^ by Man, bishop of Uctl,
Hardasher,^' the correspondent of Ibas."
About the same time rose one of the stars of Syriac literature,
Isaac, commonly called the Great, of Antioch.^^ He was a nativi
of Amid, but went as a young man to Edessa, where he enjoyed the
teaching' of Zenobius, the disciple of Ephraim.^' Thence he removed
to Anlioch, where he lived as priest and abbot of one of the many
convents in its immediate neighbourhood. In his younger days he
would seem to have travelled farther than most of his countrymen,
as it is stated that he visited Rome and other cities." AV ith thu
agrees what is recorded by Dionysius of Tell-Malire»« as to hii
hiving composed poems on the secular games celebrated at liomo
in 404, and on the capture of the city by Alaric in "0. ivhicli
shows that he took a more than ordinary interest in the \\ estcrn
capital. Isaac died iu or about 460, soon after the destruction o(
Antioch by the earthquake of 459, on which ho wrote a poem. •
Isaac's works M-e nearly as voluminous and varied as thosjs ol
Ephraim, with which indeed they arc often confounded in MSS.
and in the Roman edition.^' They were gathered into one corpus by
the Jacobite patriarch John bar Shushan or Susanna, who began
in his old ace to transcribe and annotate them, but was hmdcFcJ
from completing his task by death {\m)P Asseinani has gave.,
a list of considerably more than a hundred metrical homilies from
MSS in the A'atican."" Of these part of one on the Crucifixion
was edited by Overbeck,« and anotl.cr on the love ol learning l,v
ZiH"erie *■ But it has been left to Bickell to collect and translate all
tho°extant writings of this Syrian father and to commence the pub
lication of them. Out of neariy 200 metrical homilies his first
volume contains in 307 pages only fifteen, and his second brings
=3 jj 0 i 199 " nid., ill. 1, 85 ; Wright, CataX., pp. 107, col. 2, 044, col. 1.
25 Seeiabbe, Concii.,ix. 51; Jl.nnsi, vii. 241.
16 The so-called ^5<TTpI^-% ffiJroSos or latrxlniura. Ephe'inum. W ">««'■;;■
session of this council a portion is extant m Syriac in Bnt. Mus. Add. 12I0O, li.
&C.V "75 ; and Pcn-y,^,. Ancient .Syriac mcumentpur,>ort,nO '» ,', "".J "p" ^ !
ili chief feature! of the Second Synod of Ephtsus, &c., «rt I., iti, ■ " ' ^"J
.Hnrd-i complete edition of the Syriac text at the Olarcn.lon I'lvss, Oxi. M
Cno'o" rsSi'^to k,,ow »i„.t i,asVco,no -■' f "j.^ », ^'j'-.f;;;;'" i;^ 'i
En-lish translation weio puicboscd at the "^\"y^' fy^i ' """^^ "" "
'^"i"im.. III. 1, 80. These are of course "tteri/igijorod by Asscmanl in voL 1.
fl Bci'lVliarclashoror Bi^th nart.»hGr In rorsianWeh.Arda.Mr or D,h.AnV
ashiir Arabiclzcd Bahurasir, close by Scleucia, on tho nRht >'-■>»'''>' t'" '''.''''■
SCO liotoano, Vcrhundlnngcn. dcr Kircl^iver^'n,m!,n:,,ru Ephesu,. I.C. p. 93.
""s? Jm., I. 207-234 ; Bickell, In Thalliofer. MWlJ*. Na 44. »ad Con^«.
''-MThat he is Identical with" Isaac tho 'li»<^'P'V,f '=I*"'";J„"i;TAl"7n"rir.
''s^i^::'iik^^!-^i>^^^re,.^^^:fck^^j^
{^^cSr^^d";;^/^ir^JiS^i^j:;'^r^:^=>^?^
»r'"^^-?.f;'''^ •^---;z;:p2^.^
3. ;(.„., I. 214-215, 11.355; "»'■""• VV, pp S79.MI.
«RO.,l2U-234 /'■';„'Vt..l"Ku,n..-- ' V. < »r,d«a
Svr., pp. ■-'•.'0 .1., 3S7 .7. Zlni^rl. hi". tr^-;sla(.Ml . "'.1!™ ..
on thi Cruciniion Into Gcnnan In Iho V.l.n-c. i .". '"•".
Further, CanlitM, Litxr Ihta., pp. 21-S.'.
830
TrZli! ^-^f °^/ ^', '^'' ^' ?°- ^^- Some of these poems have
n certam histoncal ralue such as the second homi]y on fitinl
probably written soon after 420,'= the two homOies on the
andM H °^ '^%*°'™ "^ ^^* ?«^ ^y tl^« Arabs (c 457)1
and the t^vo against persons who resort to soothsayers.* Others
possess some interest as bearing on the theological views of the
author who combats the errors of Nestorius and Kutych!I» One
°L!^' ^°°"='' ^f^ T?'u ^«^"f ""s is a stupendous poem of 2137
^rses on a parrot which proclaimed fiyoj 6 6,6, in the stoets of
Antioch.^ Another on repentance runs to the length of 1929 verses
In prose Isaac seems to have written very HttJel at least Bictlll'
Concerning Isaac's contemporary Dadha we know but little.s He
n.^n?.^rt^ ^""k^*!" neighbourhood of Amid, who was sent by the
S?i A, ^- "''? t° Constantinople on account of the ravages of
JZt, f"'°'' ? °btam remission of the taxes or some Sar
relief, and was well received by the emperor. He is said to have
^lCi^l°^' *^T ''""^^<=<i.t'-^-t^ on various topics connected with
the Scriptures and on the saints, besides poems W^ras^^)
^,-5 • 'Ao"' "^^ ffl^iy ret^ord the name of Simeon the Stylite who
alithtlZT'^ ^^'"'-A "^^ Moi-opl^y^ites contend th^t he Md
ttieir theological views, and accordingly we find in a MS of the 8th
century a letter o his to the emperor Leo regardin^^eodoret of
Cyrrhus, who had come to him and tried to°pervert hfm to the
opinions of the Dyophysites," and in another JIS., of abou? the
KaphrfReiiLI i'^d? *? ^/^^Peror Leo, to the abbot Jacob ol
toCve th»tT» .° f /?^ ° ^- V^iriB^oh of Antioch, all tending
nf llJt^^ <. "J''*^'^ *''« '^°"°'^'l °f Chalcedon." A third MS
«LrptJ^\''?-""^; '°.;^"v°= =«^^'" "precepts and admonW^s "
MSS "fiJli';? *» *-^l ^Z^?-;^"-" Ttere'^is extant in very old
bv I E id^P^- ""^/""."^ ^^^'^ "*°™=' ""^''^ ^^ ^^^ edited
^ ''•.*'• ;*-ssemani in the Acta Sanctorum MaHxn-um vol ii 26S
o?-thf ^ ^r ^f P "-^P- ''-'^ *''?^ '= »■ 1^"^^ by onf2o"mas» priest
fL «f^'^^' of Panir, written in the name of his congre^tira to
the Styhte promismg • implicit obedience to aU his prec^S^nd
orders, and requesting his prayers on their behalf ; but there^
fJt^^^Y^^^'\ *" ^^"^ '^^* t^'^ Cosmas was the'author of thi
I/i-fe or had any share m writing it '=
ut\lll\^'l ^^^^^ l^^ Dadh-isho', the cattolicua of Seleucia
Kings, and Bar-S-ja or Ecclesiasticus.^' But the chief seat of N^
o°f E^es'sf wh''^^ ^""^ literary activity wa. stm the pSn sch^oi
~ , f • J f !'• ^tere Bar-sauma and other teachers were activelv enraeed
aumi of m .defending and propagaSng their peculiar tenets Bar saSff
trisTbis. -e niay beW the scumloSonoph^ysite Simeo^^o" Beft'S^"
?HL«r?l "^1^''' ''^^^°^ °°* ^^^^^ "f Beth Kardu," and bore at
449, when his expulsion was- called for ty the rabble ^^ iTwhS
rear It actnally took place we do not know, but we afterwards find
Urom'Ton? 57 ^t^ls^.f-" the catholicus' Babhoyah o7BaW
y'Ho 4qfi^ aL^. dl ^°'^- ^'\=°«'=essor Acacius (from about
4.4 to 496), during which period he was bishop of Nisibis.^^ Of
hi^personal character, and work this is not the place to^S'mpt to
form a Judgment ; but the reader should beware of placing 'mpUcit
tnistin the statements of bitter and unscrupulous theSirCo
Ba?^ii^l fr'°°/^ Beth Arsham, BarJebr^us, and^eS
Bar-sauraa does not appear to have written mncCas "Abhd-i^«
mentions only p^^netic and funeral sermons, h^^mns of the class
anaSorrrr^^gy"^'^^^^ ^"■"'"^^ ('"""^^^^^ l<.tt.».'td S
A feUow-worker with him both at Edessa and TJTisibis was ISTarsai
^sh'iL'ciiir .•^:S^4'\^^'^iv'^^^" "=^°"' ii^erof'^Kth
ff, Jl /!i, J, cfP?^ ,T '•lie!"eas his co-sectarians style him " the
Harp of the Holy Spint," He was especiaUy famouTasTwrite?
of hymnsand other metrical compositions, his fav^jurite met^eS
that .-f _s« syllables.^ He fled from Edessa to escape thVw^h
of the bishop Cyrus (471-493), probably in the year 489, and^ed
S Y K I A C L i T E K A T U R E
Oadh
*Bh5'.
tiar-
[5th cent.-
m\r^J:d'ly"-i^b^d-Lt- l^sis^f" ^"-'\--I^^ - en-
four books^of the Pentateuch rf,,^ commentaries on the first
Isaiah and the twelve mW l Ti ''"t''""' ""^^ Ecclesiastes,
Daniel, twelve voumes of meW^lS'*"' ^''''^'^' E.ekie!, and
of'bTs.*'B^:[^rs^t^'o1L™r'^"^°i°''^^^=*^-°^^^^
above, p. 829 be 4ote aZ^l'^ °° the epistles of Acacius (see
of Ni^bis the s°uccessn?n? n'^^'^ °° the.faithby Elisha, bishop
cleansficact from The sta^n'of'Tett ■ ^^='"f I *"" '''"' ^°
remarks,»6 "vereor ne^thinnl™ i Nestonanism, but, as Abbeloos
Sn?4X'r." "* "■• "-••«p»"> <■■<>' .r#.i/,,ji.*
msmmmm
mav have had a «o„'^ !^ *^ l- , "^^"^ '"^^'y *'''« °°e or the other
and more Set MVn"L p"°° ^^ ""formation becomes fuller
He had. It appears, translated a number of books from Syriac into
" /M^., p. 9Sa, Xo 33 12 JMrf '„ r, ?i*^; , ^■?f "• '^'"'^- . P- 951, No. xxix.
" B.O.. iii. 1, 214 ^'^ Bar-He..ra!U8, CT.ron. JTcciM.. ii. 57, tote 1.
» "?lesl^i™ "'''''?<' J^''- over against JaS;;-tlta -Omar
^ ^^ UL I'M' ^' ""^ '• «°"P"?5i ^th i. SSl/note 4, and ii. 407, note 2.
Joseph, and two ethers) • ' ""^ '"'= "' "" J-^ord) aod 219 (two poems on
(Wright, Ca(a2rp. m, COL ?ir?3^"c?- ^' "'' ^' ^°- ^^^ '^•^ ""* ^"^ 1"2I9
39 Vocalized Kentrop'os or Kantropos:E.O. iii. 1. 170 i o
Cotp^cf^".7f2?n'el^i,''o^1ifr?h^^^^^
maY'3S^.t?S,''^o^o'5*^' ^^ ^"'^^-n^ Tfif 2'r^^ ^^^ °««--
iJ.w., 111. 13,6, pronoDDcmg it, however, Ma'ne or Maaiies. Eliaa of Kisni^
S S^ * S"- "'-^ ''''' Maghca, which Abbelooa Latiiizes Maraes. ■"'^"«='»
" a:s Persian name is unknown to ns. « B 0 i. 35"
•o Par-Hebneus. CTron. EccUs.. u. 65. 63. «9 B.6.'. a.'4OT
6th cent-]
SYRIAC LITERATURE
831
Persian (Pahlavi), and thus probably ingratiated lumself witb tlio
kin" ' However, he soon feU under the royal displeasure, \ras
degraded from his oEGce, and ordered to retire to Persis where ho
fosun;ed his former duties,^ and so incurred the anger of Y azdegcrd s
successor, Peroz.^ Ma'na's work, the exact extent of which is not
known to us, was carried on and completed by other members of
the Persian school,- such as Acacias the catholicus and Yazidudh ;
John of Beth Garmai, afterwards bishop of Beth Sari (or benu .),
and Abraham the Slede, disciples of Narsai ; Mikha .fterwards
bishop of Lashora in l!<ith Garmai ; Paul bar Kakai (or ICaki) after-
■wards bishop of Ludhin in al-Ahwaz; 'Abhshotii (?) of Nineveh, and
others,«-who are expressly said to have "taken away with them
(appik 'ammmu) from Edessa, and disseminated throughout the
Ea^'the writings of Theodore and Ncstorius.' Ibas himself ^-as
one of these translators in his younger days (see above p. a.J).
About the same time with Ma'ni's translations began the Arislo-
telian studies of the Syrian Nestorians. To understand and trans-
late the writings of their favourite Greek theologians, Paul of
Samosata, Diodore of Tarsus, Theodore of Mopsuestia, and J. estonus
himself, not to mention Tlieodoret^ of CyrrhuS, required a consider-
able knowledge of the Aristotelian logic. Hence the labours of
Probus (np6;3o5, in Syriac Probhos, ProbU, or ProbJa), who trans-
lated and commented ou the Hep! ipit-w'-^a':,-' and pobably treated
in a similar manner other parts of the Organon? It is not easy
to fix his date precisely. "Abhd-isho' » makes him contemporary
with Ibas and another translator named Kumu If the Berlin Mb.
Sachau 226 can be trusted, he was archdeacon and archiater at
Antioch. Hoffmann "> has assigned reasons for supposmg him not
to be anterior to the Athenian expositor Syrianus (433-450 ?).
tono- Whilst the Nestorians were thus making rapid progress all over
hysite the East, another heresy was spreading in the West. Eutyches
■hism. had found followers in Syria, among others Bar-sauma the archi-
mandrite, a man famous for his piety and asceticism," who repre-
sented the abbots of Syria at the second councU of Ephesus^'- and
was afterwards condemned by the council of Chalcedon.'^ He died
in 458 " His life was written by his disciple Samuel, in much
the same style as that of Simeon Stylites, and is extant m several
MSS in the" British Museum." His memory has always been held
in the greatest reverence by the Jacobites. The Armenians, accord-
ing to Assemani,'* keep his commemoration on the 1st of February,
the Syrians and Copts on the 3d. The de<^isions of the councU
of ChalcedoiJ -produced an immediate and irreparable breach m the
Eastern Chr.rch ; and the struggle of the rival factions was carried
on with desperate fury alike at Constantinople, Antioch, and Alex-
andria. In Syria the persecution of the Monophysites was violent
during the years 518-521, under the emperor Justin, and again in
535 and the following years, under Justinian, when they seemed
in a fair way of being completely crushed by brute force.
The first name to be mentioned liore, as belonging to both the
5th and 6th centuries, is that of Jacob of Serugh, one of the most
celebrated writers of the Sj-rian Church,'' "the flute of the Holy
Spirit and the harp of the believing church." There are no less
than three biographies of him extant in Syriac,— the first, by his
namesake Jacob of Edessa '* ; the second, anonymous'"; the third,
a lengthy metrical panegyric, said to have been written lor his
commemoration -" by a disciple of his named George.-' This, how-
ever, seems, from the whole tone of the composition, to be unlikely,
and Bickell is probably right in supposing the author to be George,
I ;!<ui. iii. 1,87«. 2 Bar-Hebraus, Cftron. £«!«., ti. 63. 3 £.0., il. 402 ;
iil. 1, 377. ♦ /Wrf.. !■ 8Iil-364. « B.O., 1. 3S0 ; 111. 1, 2'iO, note 8.
6 His Eranistes (of which tlie fourth book is a dcmoiijfrodo per lyllogisnwa of
the incarnation) appears as the name of an author in ■Abh(l-isiio"s Catalogue
IB 0., iii. 1, 41), under the form of Branlstitheos, or something similar.
' Sei:Honma.on, De Hermfneultcis apuct S!iro$ AriatoUlei',l6<ii>. J1.SS.,— Berlin,
Alt. Best. 30, 0, 10 ; Brit. Mus. Add. 14000. The translation may possibly be
even anterior to Probus. . „ . . »> ,
e Berlin, Saclmu 220, 1, Is described as " Isagogc des Porphyrius.von Proljus,
Prcsbytj-r Arcliidiacon, und Archiater In Antiochien" ; and in the same MS.,
No. S, is " Krkl;iruiig der Analytics von Probus," with an " Eiuleltung m d.
Eritl.'d. Anal, von Piobus," No. 7. » RO., iii. 1. 65.
10 Op cit pp. 144-14.1. The name of FflbrI or Phubrius, which appears as a
variation of Probus in llottingcr (B.O.), in AsBcmani (/(.O.. iii. 1, 8S, note 6), in
Kenan (Dr. PhOosophia FerijtaUlica apiid Svroi, p. H). and in other books on this
.ubject, has nothing to do with that of Probus, but is on error for Kuwalrl, Abll
IsliSk Ibrahim, a SyroArabian Aiistotiilian who lived about tlie beginning of
the iOtih century. Sec tlic F»iri.<f. p. 202 ; Ibn Abl Otiaibi'ah, 1. 284 ; Wilslcn-
feld, Gesch. d. Arab. AcrtU, p. 24, No. 02, " Fulherl Oder pubrL"
II All "hypocrisy" in the eyes oX Aascmani, iJ.O., IL 2 ; " Bcelestissimui
Ipscudo.inonachus," p. 9. . « j, ,.. i
■ 12 liar-llcbr,Tus. Ckron. Eala., i. 16MC5 ; Hoffmann, Vtrhandl. d. htTrhemrr-
lamnUungziiEphesu), ir., p. 4, 1. 39. 13 BarHebra.us,;w.ciI.,179. » /ii«*.,181.
■ IS fl.O., il. 290, alBop. cxlviii. No. 8; Wright, Calai., P. 1123.
" B.O., 11. 9; comp. Wriglit, Caial.. p. 176, coL 2, No. 3, and p. 311, ^o.
fecclxxxvilt
• n B.O., I. 283 sq. : Matagne, In Ada Sandorum. October, vol. xil. 824. 027;
libbeloos, Dc Vita el Scriplis S. Jawhi Jtatnarum. SuniQi in Haopotmnlit epl,
1807; Bicl<ell, Con.<;icc(lu. p. 25 ; Bickell in ThMintar, BM.d. Ktrchrmaler, t.H;
Jlartin, " Lcttres do Jacques de Sarong aux Moines du Couvcnt dc Mar Dasnus,
et 4, Paul d'Edcssc," in Z.D.M.G., xxx. (1670), p. 217.
18 JS.O., i. 280, 299 ; Martin, in Z.D.M.G., xxx. p. 217, note 3.
19 Abbeloos, on. cif., p. 311. . ,, ,. «r,i
"> Sec Wiigllt, Calol., p. 311, No. ccclxxxiK. The Armenians hold It an SjIU
Beptember, tlie Jacobites on 2»th June, 211th July, and 2iith October.
21 Abbeloos, op. cit., p. 21 : D.O., i. 2S0. 310.
bishop of SerQgh, a contemporary of Jacob of Edessa.^ Jacob waa
born at Kurtam, "a village on the river Euphrates," probably iu
the district of Seriigh, in 451. His father was a priest, and, as his
.parents had been childless for many years, his birth was regarded
as a reward for their alms, prayers,. and vows. ' 'WTicther ho was
educated at Edessa or not, he soon acquired a great reputation for
learning and eloquence. He appears to have led a life of quiet
work and study, and to have devoted himself in particular to liter-
ary composition. Ho became periodeutes of Haora in Semgh,
whence we find bun writing to the Christians of Najran, and to
the city of Edessa when threatened by the Persians.''^ As perio-
deutes he is mentioned in eulogistic terms by Joshua the Stylite*
(503). In 519, when sixty-eight years old, he was made bishop
of Batnan, the chief town of Serugh, where he died on 29th Novem-
ber 521 . Jacob's prose writings are not numerous.^ A liturgy ia
ascribed to him, and an order of baptism, the former of which has
been translated by Renaudot,"' the latter edited by J. A. Assemani."
Further, he composed six festal homilies, one of which has been
published by Zingerle,^ who has also translated the whole of them
into German ^ ; a discourse showing tlut we should not neglect or
despise our sins "> ; another for the night of Wednesday in tho
thii'd week of Lent" ; and some short funeral sermons." To him
we also owe a life of Mar Hannina (died in 500), addressed to ono
Philotheus.'' Of his letters a considerable number liave been pre-
served, particularly in two MSS. in tho British Museum, Add.
14587 and 17163, ff. 1-48." Of these Martin has edited and
translated the three epistles to the monks of tho convent of M5r
Bas-sua at Harim," with a reply by the monks, and another letter
to Paul, bishop of Edessa, from all of which it is e\-ident that
Jacob always was a Monophysite, and continued such to his death.^
The letter to Stephen bar Sudh-aile is given, -nith an English ver-
sion, by Frothingham^'j and that to the Himyarite Christians of
Najran has been edited and translated by Schrciter in the Z.D.M.O.,
xxxi. (1877), p. 360 sq. It belongs to the year 519 or 520.» Ac-
cording to Bar-HebriEUS,*' he also wrote "a commentary on the
six centuries of Evagrius, at the request of Mar George, bishop of
the (Arab) tribes, who was his disciple." As George, bishop of
the Ar5b tribes, was a contemporary of Jacob of Edessa, this state-
ment seems to rest on soma misapprehension ; at all events no
such work now exists. The paucity of Jacob's prose writings is
more than compensated by a flood of metrical compositions, mo.^tly
iu dodecasyllabio verse, or the four-syllable line thrice repeated.
"He had," says Bar-Hcbrreus,'"' "seventy amanuenses to copy out
his metrical homilies, which were 760" in number, .besides com^-
mentaries and letters and odes {macUtrashc) and hymns {sughrjdOid)."
Of these homilies more than the half have perished, but neariy
300 are still preserved in European collections." Very few ol
them have as yet been published, though many cf them are by no
means devoid of interest. *3 Indeed Jacob is oa the whole far moif
read.able than Ephraim or Isaac of Antioch.
Very different from the gentle and studious bishop of Serugh PhUo-
■ ■ -y and neighbour, the energetic and fiery Pliilo- xenus c
was his contemporary 1 „- . „ v,r. i i «t v
xenus of JlabbOgh. Aksenaya or Philo.'cenus was a native of Tahal, -Mib-
somewhere in Beth Garmai, and studied at Edessa in tho time of bigt,
Ibas.*» He was ordained bishop of Hierapolis or ilabbogh (Manbij)
by Peter the Fuller, patriarch of Antioch, iu 485, and devoted his
M See Bickell in Thnlhofer, mU.. i8, p. 193. a Wright, Calal., p. 520, Nm.
15 10 acArontdf.ed. Wright, ch.liv. Josliun wroto in 507. ȣ.(>., i. 300-SOJ.
■i^Liturm. Orientt. Cclkdio, ii. 350. W Cod. Liturg. Ecd. Univcri.. il. 309, ill. 184.
28 Jlfoii Syr i 91. ** Scc/is Itomtlicn da h. .lacob roa Saruri. 1807. w W right,
Cata!., p. 820, No. 10 ; comp, tlie Index, p. 1293, col. 1. " Ibid., p. 814, No 32.
32 ;i-ij p. 304, col. 2. 33 Ibid., p. llI3,Vo. 14 ; p. 1126, No. 10. M JhiJ.. Noa.
dclixii.', dclxxiii., and corap. the Index, p. 1293, coL 1. 3» Hid., p. C02, coL 2.
36 See Martin, Z.i).i/.C.,XXT. (1670), pp. 217.219. , „. „,v
37 Bee his Stephen bar Sudaili tlie Synan ilystic and Iht Book </ IltrroOuot
m'scc Guidi, io Lclltra di Simconc VrscofO di Bilh-Ariin Kpra i Martul
Omritt 1881, p. 11. " Citron. Eccta., 1. 191. *• l<x. at.
41 Jacob of Edessa rays 703, of which that on tho chariot of Enckiel waa the
first and that on Mary and Golgotha the last, which ho left unllnlaUed ; tn
B.O.', i. 299; Abbeloos, /)•■ I'lto. «:e.,.p. 312.
42 Comp. B.O., i. 305.330 ; Abliehx.s, op. cit., pp. 1O0.11.1.
43 Zinterle has given extracts In the Z.D..V.ti., xii.. xiii., xlv.. xv., and K..
and in his Chrcst. Syr., pp. 8CO-380. The homily ou SinuH.n Slylitos h.n lieiil
published by Asscuiani in the Ada S. ilartynim, il. -.'..o ,. : ili-i m, vii.iiniv.
foruleata.n, &.C., by Overbeck, S. Ephntrnl «vrl. '
that on Alexander Die Or«at (perhaps spurious) In
CO */.(tluTe 18 a German translation by A. « < 1>- r
(frti flaiilujen Koiiig Alr:rsandrOi, 18.VJ); on 1 1
Edessiiie martyrs, with a mk.ydirloi v '
nacumint!, pp. M'.P8 ; on Sharbel bv
chariot I'f IC/ckiel. with an Aniliic ti ■
Virgin Mnry by Abbeloos, De I'ila, .'
our Lord and Jacob, llie rliureh a-
the two birds (Lev. xiv. 4), on the luo
(Exod. XXXIV. 33) by Ziiigerle, .^/.•n. .s.
1871; on tho palace which M Tlmnin. b.nlt for the king of Ir
(perliipH M.ur ous) by Schtx.t.r. in /..l>..\l.i;.. xxv. 321. xx>' il. 5*1 . .i. i- l-H
f [hSVlol. by Martin, in Z.P..M.a., xxlx. J07 ; on tl„; l«p.l..n of C..«t....tln.
per ai.» si.urinuB) by Frolhinghain, In Mit Atll d,:la >.,„/(r™lo «^r( /...-«
fr 169 K' (Home, 18S2). Uiekell ha. transl.Ld lulo Cnnan (in Th. holer,
/ .^'. 5S) U,c ti^t llonilly on the Ulessed Virgin .M.ry, <h-.l .m . -cot. .•'"■<•';
on MoscV vail, and on Guoi ""<! KhaniOni. bom. o( Jae..b» homUU. nw
citanl in Arabic an.l even in EUlloPlt. Hei. p«ycr a. .CMW k« In OvchecJ.
oj,. cit, p. liSi *4 ftO. I 8M.
I
, p. To ; two
1 ; on Jacob
.Il and the '
i (1.1^1. xvi. 7). and .
. 21-90; on 'I'aniar 1
832
S Y K I A C LITERATURE
life to tl.c :i, vocacy of Jlonopliysite doctrine. Twice lie visited
Constantmorle m tl.e service of his party, and siitfered much (as
was to be expected) at the hands of its enemies, for thus he writes
'.'\ M . r"1 '" j'"^ """'•'^ "'' ">'= convent of Senun near Edessa ■
\\ hat I endured from Flavian and Jlacedonius, who were arch-
bishops of Antioch aud of the capital, and previously from Cal-
cndioii IS known and spoken of everywhere. I keep silence both
as to what was plotted against me in the time of the Persian war
amor," the nobles by the care of the aforesaid Flavian the heretic
.and also as to what befell me in Edessa, and in the district of the
Apaincans, and m that of the Antiochians, when I was in the con-
vent of the blessed JIar Bassus, and again in Antioch itself; and
when I went up on two occasions to the capital, like thin^ were
..one to me by the JSestorian heretics."' He succeeded at last in
getting nd of his enemy Flavian in 512, and in the same year he
presided at a synml in which his friend Severus was ordained patri-
arch of Antioch.- His triumph, however, was but short-lived,
in^io'f ft' f "^^'^f^''^' «/ Anastasius, sentenced to banishmen
onn.n nP^[°'r ^"''°1'' ''''° ^■''"''='' *° ""'""P^ t^« decrees of the
council of Chalcedon among whom were Severus, Philo-xenus. Peter
of Apamea, John of Telia, Julian of Halicarnassus, and Mara of
.Zl, f ''''°^'^""^ was exiled to Philippopolis in Thrace,' and
the ve.r .. ? ^'t?' ■" 'r" ^fV^'H^^' ^^here he was murdered'about
nlJ ? L^ ^i°, ■^^'°'''"' '^''"'■<='' commemorates him on 10th
December IStli February, and 1st April. Philo.xenus, however
was something more than a man of action and of strife : he was a
scholar and an cle-ant writer. Even Assemani, who never misses
an opportunity of reviling him,*' is obliged to own (£.a, ii IS)
scripsit Syriace. SI quis alius. <flegantissime, atque adeo inter
TT- \Tf\ '"'S'f ^"'P'"^" ^ J^~l-^o Edesseno colloca"
meruit. Unfortunately scarcely any of his numerous works have
as yet Ijcen printed.^ To him the Syriac Church owed its first
revised translation of the Scriptures (see above, p. Sio) ; and 1 e
also drew up an anaphora'' and an order of baptism.'' Porton
the BihSI^Tr "" ? t'"= .Gospels are contained in two MSS. in
the British Muscum.8 Besides sundry sermons, he composed
thirteen honiihes on the Christian life and char'actei/of , h c
there are several ancient copies in the Briti:>h Wuseui. Of h
con roversi.al works the two most important are a treatise OnZ
Trimly and the Incarnation in three discourses,' and another n
ten discourses, showing "that one (Person) of the Trinity became
.ncarnate and suffered -»; but there are many smaller tracts a'aL
Uie Kestorians and Dyophysites." His letters are numeroul and
may be of some value for the ecclesiastical history of his time
Isscmani enumerates and gives extracts from several of them "bui
°[ , - u'° ^''" ^=''^'' °f ^'^"'■'2 (al-Hirah),'3 to the monks of T, II
these writers corresponded, '^ and regarding whom the laUer wrote
the above-mentioned letter to the "priests Abraham and Or^stel
ItZ'^^VTl^'' ^"\'>.°f of t''^ «'orfe entitled TA. £. i o/i/It
thacs whic 1 he published under the name of Hierotheus the
teacher of St Dionysius of Athens,'' and exercised a stron-tZence
of" Inti: dus'/rs'ssf T^'f"^ '""^'""•" Theodosiusrp^trrch
pLu , (SS7-S96), vrcoU a commentary on the Hierotheus "■'>
Bar-Hebr,xus too made copious extracts froni it, which he arrang;d
[6th ctxr.
Tt:f:^:^^ "'* ^ ^"■""^"'"^ ^1^-% derived from that of
Syrian historians, the StyuL monk Yes uV nr t'" """^ ^'?^?^"«^
p:^^nl;^^\f^^^b:n^:-:<!^^^^
" r^T'S ^? '^»?"r! f-' a ?;'^,el'asViveri^°^:''l^^r"" ''""" " <"• "^ ^
Add. m64 islVLsras o?d'"" "'• '^ "'""' ''' ■• ^''=" - "« British Museum
As i, ?°'^^- O'hcra may be found in Wright CafaJ b l-il^
so m a Mb. of the 7th century (Brit. Mus. Add. irfcs ; 2e Wright, Cata,
p. 5^). The ilSS. of Bar.Hebr.us(ar„,.. Ecclcs.. i. se.), h„e v.^.^,o, o;
w.-i-^.,0_j. Assemani writes ..\.,0 ^SudaiU). ..Hunt the' dSr"
Joshua's Chronicle would have be n e.H. I i"'?.'' ^onophysite.
k..bi. ,„i, ii„ d.."rs'i" AS'? Tm„', b/Sw""' V""""
name denotes. This man bVp,) ;?^ ,t •* -iT P''"" by trade, as his
from the consent oAI^BasIus and whll"^ P of Geshir,- not far
comlTnlf cX'l:;::-i^"t!'-^'^ Simeon bishop of Beth Arsham.3o Simeoa
This keen^IotphS ^wfs one^^o^f Z ''"' ^""^^ Disputant'." of Ea..
creed in the Per ian territorv ,nd Ll -^ ff"' representatives of his Arsbira
mental and bodilj 0^ half of hif ' •''•^ wonderful activity,
Babylonian and P rsL dis Hcts in aU d Ifr ''''' traversing the
KXrians^'. It IT ^^1',"''^ OnBar-sauma and the Sect of the
m the East but from the h>f' "/'S? «"<' ^Pread of Nestorianism
v"ew 38^ The other ^u. ''.'"^"^tand narrowest sectarian point of
0/ Joshua lite Stylite, 1SS2.
^U
4^^2^^^^^!!S^'^:^'"'"- r- -3; and en.,
-J Wright, Catal., p. 363.
30 A village near Seleucia and Ctesiphon ; Bar-Hebrffus D,™„ r..,.;.. •■ o.
7„J, c ^^^■''?!^ .''o'^fT '"'" "'^ '"^"""t "f Siraeo,> by John of Enh'efu^Vl -,^,1
;f„ f «*'■•^"■■ ,T«-f ).,'"> *""" probably have abandoned the Xrant in ,i'
32 Sec Bar-Hcbr!eus, Chrm. Kcdes., ii. 85, i. 180; comp. B.O., i. 341, ii W
33 a1'''t'Ji'''-"i'"'A" ^-^-lit^f- f™™ t>>« Va'ticin XS.cxyxv('rMui.,%'h4).
Ku'nt'iyl'a'id wL's";?' •'^'''"'' <"' ""' ■="' '«"'' "' ">= T'^-". ^^'-■- -
Ephe^'i? m^h\'s'« i;'i-°Th J" '^V '""'■'''■"S t" the text offered hyjohn oi
tphesus in his Hc^lorn. There is, however, a Ii^nger and betttr text in a Jib.
6th cent.]
SYRIAC LITERATURE
833
To the same age and sect as Simeon belonged John bar Cursiis
(KoCpcros),' bishop of Telia or Constantina. He was a native of
Callinicus (ar-Rakkah), of good family, and was carefully educated by^
his widowed motlier, who put him into the army at the age ol
twenty He would not, however, bo hindered from quitting the
service after a fe\* years and becoming a monk. Subseiiueutly, in
619, lie was raised to the dignity of bishop of Telia, whence he was
expelled by Justin in 521. In 533 he visited Constantinople, and
on bis return to the East was seized by his enemies in the mouutanis
of Siniar, and dragged to Nisibis, Rfis'ain, and Aiitioch, whore he
died in 538, at the age of fifty-five, having been for a year and si.-i
days a close prisoner in the coni-ent of the Comes JIanassc by order
of the cruel persecutor Ephraim, patriarch of Antioch (529-514).
His life was written by his disciple Bias (of Dfiia ?).- The Jacobite
Church commemorates him on the 6th of February. Canons by
John of Telia are extant in several WSS. in the British Museum .-ind
elsewhere.' The questions put to him by Sergius with his rephcs
liave been published by Lamy.* His creed or confession ot faith,
addressed to the convents in and around Telia, is found m Liit.
Mus. Add. 14549 {Calal, p. 431), and an exposition of the Tiisagion
in Cod. Vat. clbc. (Calal., iii. 314) and Bodl. Marsh. 101 (Payne
Smith, Catal, p. 463, No. 20). , . ^. , . , ,.
Maia^ti. Vnother of the unfortunate Jlonophysite .bishops whom Justin
rf Ap *d. cxpeUed from their sees (in 519) was Mara of Amid, the third bishop
of the name. He was banished, with his syncelli and with Isidore,
bishop of Ken-neshrin (Kinnesrin), in the first instance to Petra,
but was afterwards allowed to go to Alexandria," where he died in
about eight vears.« According to Assemani {Bibl. Oncnt u. o: ■
comp. p. 169j, Mara wrote a commentary on the Gospels. It w-ould
seem, however,' from a passage of Zacharias Rhetor ' that Mara
merely prefixed a short prologue in Greek to a copy of the Gospels
which he had procured at Alexandria,^ and that this MS. coritained
(as mifht be expected) the pericope on the woman ta^en in adultery
(John viii. 2-11). That the Syriac translations of tto prologue
and pericope were made by himself is nowhere stated.
/obn bar Y -t another sufferer at the hands of Justin was John bar Aphtonya
Aphtonyj. lAphthonia, his mother's name).^ He was abbot of the convent
of St Thomas at Seleucia (apparently in Plena, on the Orontes),
which was famous as a school for the study of Greek literature.
Being expelled thence, he removed with his whole brotherhood to
Ken-neshre (the Eagles' Kest) on the Euphrates, opposite Europus
(Jerabis), where he founded a new convent and school that more
than rivalled the parent establishment, for here Thomas of Hera-
clca, Jacob of Edessa, and others received their training in Greek
letters." His Life, written by a disciple, is extant in Bnt. Mua
Add 12174." According to Dionysius of Tell-Mahre, as quoted
Vj Assemani (loc. cit.), he died in 538. He wrote a commentary
on the Song of Songs, some extracts from which arc preserved in
a Catena Patriivi in the British Museum (Add. 12168, f. I38a), a
considerable number of hymns, "^ and a biography of SeVerus ot
Antioch," which must have been his last work, as ho survived
Severus only about nine months.
Jacob We now come to the man who was the real founder of the
Burda, Jacobite Church in Asia, and from whom the Jacobites took their
ana name, Jacob bar Theophilus, sumamed " BurdS'ana ", because
his diess consisted of a banla'tkd or coarse horse-cloth, which ha
never changed till it became quite ragged." What Assemani
could Icaru regarding him he has put together in th&-BM. Orient,
ii. 62-69 '«; since then our sources of information liavc been largely
increased, especially by the publication of tho Ecclesiastical History
of John of Ephesus by Cureton and of tho same writer s Lives in
Land's Anccd. Syr., ii." On a careful study of these is based
Kleyn's excellent book JacoUts BaradaiUs, de Stickler der Synsche
ilonophysielische KerTc, 1882. Jacob was the son of Tlieophi us
bar Ma'nri, a priest of Telia or Constantina, and tho child of his
old a"e. After receiving a good education, he was entered at tho
monaftery of Pesilta (or the Quarry)," close by tho viUage of Gum-
methain Mount^Izala (or Izla),'" not far from Telia. About 527-
ifthlM^o Borgiano and in Brit. Mu». A.ld. 14050, f™,-" "''''l'', '' ''"'J^
fccdited (with an excellent Introduction, traimlatlon, and nota) by Gu d., /.a
Uitm Ai Simcone, &c., Ucalc Accadcmla del Lincc. 1881. 'To this work tho
mn Johnr^nra van Tclk door Ellai. 1882 ; «co also VwU/c by John of Aala In
. I ^;iX-^^i^ or Vt nno uZy'anSoV^I^U ^ul^t^^^^^
"^o'kcc'Ba'rrHcimns, CTro". Ecd».. I. 207, 289. anil con,ppp^2|.8 205, 8=1 ;
Hofflnann, Au>!uge, p. 102. note 1200. " J^J'S'''' '"'"^' a^d '
a Bee /oi example, Brit. Mm. Md.inM (WrlRht, Cnloi., p. 330).
13 Cited In Brit. Mus. Add. H731 (WriRlit, j.aM., p. 8.;5).
14 Usually coiTUptcd into Barada'us ; the form BurdC'ayS seems to bo Incor-
.•«.■»•, Me BarHebTO'US. Chroii. licdcs., II. 07.
K ^:^SA^'^^. iif^f ^1;.^ by John or ^p^^x^
be callwl his in its present form, thouBli ho may havo collected laoat of tUo
utr.iau , see Kleyn, op. til., pp. 34, 105 »J. „ o-o , o
>8 Laud. op. ci(., p 30J, U. 0. 7. " '"'o-i P- ^' -• '• ^■
T>-2S he an I- another monk of Tellfv, named Sergin.i were sent to
Constantinople in defence of their faith, and, being favourably
received by the empress Theodora, they remained there fifteen
years. Meantime tho persecutions of the Moiiophysitcs, more
especially that of 536-537 by Ephraim of Antiuch, seemed to have
cruslicd their party, despite all the efforts of the devoted John of
Telia and John of Hcphwstus."' This state of matters excited the
religious zeal of al-Hurith ibn Jabalah, the Arab king of Ghassan,
who came to Coustantiiiople in 542-543, and urged Theodora to
send two or three bishops to Sj-ria. ' Accordingly two wore conse-
crated by Theodosius, the exiled patriarch of Alexandria, namely,
Theodore as bishop of Bostra, with jurisdiction over the provinces
of P.Tlestino and Arabia, and Jacob as bishop of Edessa, with juris-
diction over all Syria and Asia. From this time forward Jacob's
life was one of ceaseless toil and hardsliip. He visited in person
and on foot almost every part of his vast diocese, consecrating
deacons and priests, strengthening the wcik, and bringing back
those who had erred from the true faith. But to restore llio
Monnuhysite Church bishops were necesiary, and the consecration
of a bishop required the presence of at least three others. Select-
in" a priest named Conon from Cilicia and another named Eugenius
from Isauria, he travelled with them to Constantinople and tlienoo
to Alexandria with letters of recommendation from the patriarch
Theodosius. At Alexandiia Conon was ordained bishop of Tarsus
iu Cilicia and Eugenius bishop of Sclcucia in Isauria, whilst
Antoninus and Antonius were consecrated for dioceses in Syria.
On his return to Syria other bi»hop» were appointed to sees there
and in Asia, among the latter the historian John of Ephesus ; and
so the work progressed, till at hast Jacob's efforts were crowned by
the enthroning of his old friend Sergius as patriarch of Aiitiodi
(in 544). Sergius died iu 547, and tho see remained vacant for
three years, after which, by tho advice of Theodosias, Jacob and his
bishops chose Paul, an abbot of Alexandria, to be their patriareli.
Of the subsequent internal strifes among tho Monophysites them-
selves we cannot here speak. The aged Jacob set out once more
in the year 578 to visit Damian, patriarch of Alexandria, but died
on the Egyptian frontier in the convent of Mar Romanus or ol
Casion. Here his remains rested in peace till 622, when they were
stolen by the emissaries of Zacchteus, bishop of Telia, and buried
with much pomp in the monastery of PJsilta."-' His commemora-
tion takes place on 2Sth November, 21st March, and 31st July
Jacob's life was too active and busy to admit o| his writing much.
We may mention -an anajjiora," sundry letters,-^ a creed orconles-
sion of faith, preserved in Arabic and a secondary Ethiomc trans-
lation," and a homily for the feast of the annunciation, also extant
only in an Arabic translation."^ .,.,',, re •
Conspicuous among the scholars of this age for his knowledge of S*rgiu.
Greek, and more especially of the Aristotelian philosophy, was of _
Sergius, priest and archiater of Ras'ain. He was, however, jfR««iu.
Zacharias Rhetor may be tnisted, a man of loose morals and ava-
ricious. =1= He journeyed in 535 from Ras'ain to Antioch to lodge a
complaint before the patriarch Ephr.aim against his bi.^op As.Uus.
Just at this time the exiled Severus of Antioch and Theodoaus of
Alexandria, as well as the Stylito monk ZO'ora, were iving with
Anthimusof Constantinople under tho protection of the empress
Theodora. This alarmed Ephraim, who seems to hnvs foi-.nd a
wilUno tool in Sergius. At any rate he sent him to Rome vitli
letters" to Agapetus, who travelled with him to Constantin..plo m
th« spriu" 0? 536, and procured the deposition and banishmout of
the Monophysites. Sergius died at Constantinople almost iinme-
diately afterwards, and Agapetus followed him in a few da)s
wherein John of Ephesus and Zacharias Rhetor clearly seo o
judgment of Heaven.*' As a n,an of let er3 Sergius was o o
MoSophysites what Probus was to the Ncstorians : ho was t. e
first =^ti make them acquainted with tho works o .Aristotle bj
means of translations and commentaries JAbbd-isho it is true
gives Sergius a placo in his catalogue of Nestonan wnters and
ftatos that ho composed "expositions of logic or J''''';"" ,•
but he merely does so in tho same way ,.nd on »''« «'";° /"" '''
that ho registers tho name of Jacob of Edessa «»/!'» »,'''°^
of "annals^nd a chronicle.'"' Tho book, «"°/°?,;'" '^^^'j
for him to insist on the heresy of the writers. In > "^ <:" ° "'
Sergius there was an a^Wilional reason. ^ ''° "'"";7, ,7, .,^, '"^^
in tlio East," many of his works being dedicated to his frien.l and
(Maridin), in Bnt. Mua. Add. 12171 (Wnghl, CalaL, p. 1131).
s 'r™;;:!";:' ?^,^iu;' c^a'-oSnai, m b.^l m. Add. um ■. «« ^vn^ht.
"^'sXZ X™{,i-e"teTt r"Kfo';n;:',;.'°.'/., p. 12. ^.i U,. Ethloplc «n.lon .,«
been edited by Comlll In ;f r> M n.. .«x. «. >q.^^ ^. ,^
» Iltxil. HunU 190 (rayii ' " , .0".
» Land. /In«<f. A'wr-.l'i ' lut
!7 BurHobneus (Ckrott / .,,,a,
As^lus i» correct; see Anci. ■•'"■. ■■ - -■ ■ ■ * ' • ,.,,,
<'S"a'e"niy'";ia'"bo^'.rtiei:i'^^ «.. Sc^^i^^^^ by^^«.">U. «
834
pupil Theodore, aftern-?nls Nestorian bishop of Marfi ov Merv '
(see p. 837 jn/ra).i Wliat remains of Sergius's labours is mostly
contained in a single MS. of the 7th century (Brit. Jhis. AM
14658),- Of translations from the Greek we find in this volume tho
Jsagoge of Porphyry, followed by the so-called Tabulu Porijhyiui =
ihe Categories of Aristotle/ the Hepl Koa^wv -irpbi -AXtfa^apoi- =
and a treatise on the soul,— not the well-known Ilepl y^vyv^, but a
wholly different traitate in five short sections. It also contains
bei-gms s on-n treatise on logic, addressed to Theodore, which is
unfortunately imperfect ; a tract on negation and affirmation; a
treatise, likewise addressed to Theodore, Oil the Causa: of the Uni-
verse, according to the vicics of Aristotle, showing how it is a circle •
a tract 0;i Genus, Species, and Individuality ; and a third tract
addressed to Theodore, On the Action and Influence of the Moon,
explanatory and illustrative of Galen's n.pl Kpicip.<^v imenQ,,, bk!
ill.," with a short appendix "On the Motion of the Sun." Here
too \Te ind part (sections 11, 121 of his version of the Ars Gram-
mattca ol Dionysius Tlira.\, a larger portion (sections 11-20) bein"
contained in Brit. Mus. Add. 14620 ("Wright, Catal, p. 802)?
T5^''^'f.L";''°''°,?, °*' ^"g""^ °" ^^^ t<=>™ "^X^Mo in Brit. JIus.
Add._ 14660 (see Wright, Catal., p. 1162). In his capacity of
physician, Seigius translated part of tlie works of Galen. Brit
Mus. Add. 14661 contains books vi.-viii. of the treatise /)c Simnlieium
uVcd,camcntcrrum Tempcramentis ac Facultatihus (Wright, Catal,
p. 118/)," addressed to Theodore; and in Brit. Mus. Add. 17156
tnere are tliree leaves, two of which contain fragments of the Ars
ilv V. "^ - °^^ °^ *''® *'''=''*''^ ^^ AlimcnlSrum FacnUatibus
O* right, Catal, p. 1188).9 As one of the clergy, he wasted his
time m inaking a translation of the works which passed under the
rsnie of rionysius the Ai-eopagite." Brit. Mus. Add. 12151" con-
«ms this version with the introduction and notes of Tliocas-bar
iergius of Edessa,'- a miter of the Sth century, as appears from his
o'Jo-?,^*''^^^^,'"^ "• "°<1 J""'^ 0^ Edessa. In Brit. Mus. Add.
--J/0 we hnd Sergius's own introduction and the commentary
nf a later writer, Theodore bar Zariidi " •
5^'l'lL"/ vll: %"-T' Tn "fr ^™''"/ °l*^' Slonophysites, their Mana was
Ins L ?rTo°'^^';'"!'",'^' (a.;-Rakl.ah),>^ who, being expelled from
us see in 519 betook himself to Edessa and there devoted himself
to tlie task of translating the works of Severus into Syriac We
know for certam" that he edited versions of the correspondence
of Severus and Julian of Halicarnassus on the corruptibility or
incorruptibility of tl,e body of Christ, with a discourse of Severus
^f/,',!!, " '''"j '• ■ ^^^ ^'f'"^ ^S^'"'' "'<= -Additions or Appendices
olJuliaii,'^ and against the last apolog^• of Jnlian >» ; of that against
iwoi.i in™ r.*- *i,_ -n ■ __ '. '. ; : ' ■ . — . vL
S Y K I A C L 1 T E K A T U R E
[Oth cent.
oMer't'!.n!fJr?- '• ""r'',"^ ll"" PMMcthes.^ Probably by Iiim arc the
s mide^cn I '^" the //o„„7/a- Cathcdraks^^ and that of tjic co-.c-
t ■ no „f *l \ '"■-'"' <5''^"""^t'eus and Severus regarding the .loc-
of hpLo, ™ '1^""'^"' Christ,- possibly, too,°the translation
n ll. „ t f ??'"' •'?'"' «'™maticus of C^sarea "-^ and of some
^ions^S hV "i ■"■' n"'i"," *° "' only by a few scattered cita-
IJuUiabhc, 'tlie Translator of Books. "22
- Ihis seems tlie proper place to make mention of a most important
though anonymous work, the. translation of the so-called Civil
t^hifJ^'r TT' (^"""""""'' Thcodus.us, and Leo, which lies
at he loot of a 1 subse<,uei.t Christian Oriental legislation in ccclesi-
frZl'f^ \ '■ "'"', •'"."'' '"■•'tt'"is"= The Syriac version, made'
vif,'i'j'!?f'5J **"■* Persian court, where lie trauslated into Gi-wk a history "of th«
.s«:!,7rLi'riS,'"v'o..'iii."p* s'?9-'.r""- '''^^- °'- '"■• ^- " ''■■■ ■""'"■ ^^'<"-
■ Cntal'TrSS? ''"^°'"' °' ""= ■'«""'!» ^'so i" Brit Uns. Add. 1618 (Wrighf,
J kV!l",^'t''-' V' ^'?- '" 1';"= ^5"''^" M'»=^™ «^^ transcrib.5^. Besides the er
III '?io^e;;^e?r^.^-?s^- -s s^ris;?^M^
P;, 0 ftn'?./'7?"r""^ attiibutod to Hou.nin ibu I»hak (con p. Renan ij
8 Sec Merx's article in Z.D.M.O., xndx. (I8S5), p. 237 sa.
■I Sec Saclian, Iiicd. Siir., py. 6S-91. *
1° fo ^'i"°ifi«"°\^"' *'"^-'"' "'"■ *"""'■"■ r- 2- " See Wright, Cala! p 493
» ^-eWrigS, C^^rp "oa™ """''^ ^"^"^ '■™ "^'■""^ ■"'<='"5 o' ^'i"^
c^" oI'50)"cliWo'MT-R''^H^'"'''"''''™ '" «« Vatican; Caw., iii.Nos.
1? £ 0 ii « He is to hT I-'h*" ''■ T"i= different person of later date.^
rr-^tmorf f„ 1 .-. ■?.!"''" ™5 banished to Euchaita in 522 <B 0 i 409-4111
Pinlor .',11 "" '" ^-^('^•'"'- P- ■113), and died in the followinV^yei-- wherei
16 Tl ^„i """'^ V'f "•"'■l^'ig "t Edessa in 628 (see p. 838 infia) '
B-O-jS ,)!.)." ^- 1" """^ "t tie end of Cod. Vat. cxI. (Caw3. 223 ; comp.
^i^^CompIetcd in 528 ; Cod. Vat. cxI. ; Brit. Mus. Add. 17200 (Wright, Catal.,
" Brit.Ii'us.ldk m'ss""'- ^^ ^"-^'^ ^"S"' ^<"<^- P- 55«). -i^ted 688.
finm on., 1 ' -1 1 •'.•""; """"la- iiie jynac version, maae'
nr^,fi?) r^ 7'°""'' ',"''' '," '"•" "'anuscripts.^'- the older of which
undeniably belongs to the earlier part of the 6th century. The work
'iil^i^'rl'''?''; f ™/''"'" ,'° ""-■ '■'-■^'^^'•^''•-■s of Ei-.i>is (op. cit., pp.
Mn, Ad'l °i" j7-[°"!.*'" '""r "'■ •'"' "'"I"'™'- Basiliscus (Brit.
Mus. Add. 4,0-47/), who was a favouier of the Monophysites; the
bjriac translation is ascribed to a Monophysitc monk of Jlabbo"!.
a%^.VT'' '*'■'"•''■• I'r ^,^^'- , "^''^ P''"^ -^'S. probably represent.^
Hn^fr •? '■"'"'V.^i',"'^ 'if ^"' '"' ^°"' ""''"-y at (Baghdad) Bagh
dadh (,b,d. p. 166). The oldest MS. of the secondary Arabi
version IS dated 1352 (ibid., p. 164), but it has been traced bad
Taijib (who died 1043), whether made by him or not (ibid, p. 177)
It belongs to the same class as the London Syriac. .but is based oii
IRolTr, T' ^".'l\.% ^^Al °l ^^' f'agnieut in Brit. Mus. Add.
tbP^n.il ■ V ?• "'^Y 9^*''' Sf^-J^")- Armenian translation
f .L 1 fo» , .^?.'^"','", ?^ *•'" ^'''^''- The oldest MS. of it date.
Iiom 1328 but It probably goes as far back as the end of the 12th
^ "'"7 (;*< P- 164).. The Georgian version, of which there is a
A ,. P<^'";^'j"'-g..'s most likely an offshoot of the Armenian.
Another scholar, besides Scrgius, whom 'Abhd-Tsho' wrongly claims
as a Aestorian is Aliu-dh'emmeh, metropolitan of TaghritlWTekrit)
He appears, on the contraiy, to have been the head of the Mono-
phjsites lu the Persian territory. According to Ear-Hebra;us,=» he
was appointed by Christopher, catholicus of the Armenians, to be
b shop o Beth Arbaye » but was promoted by Jacob Burde'ana in
oo9 to the see of Taghrith, where he ordained many priests and
lounded two monasteries. Among his numerous converts from
heathenism was a youthful member of the royal family of Persia
w-hom ho baptized by the name of George. Tiiis excited the anger
01 Khosraii I. Anosharwan, who ordered the bishop to be beheaded
(^d -August 5/5). As a writer Ahu-dh'emmeh seems to have been
more oi a philosopher than a theologian.^i He wrote against the
Persian priesthood and against the Greek philosophers, a book of
detmitions, a treatise on logic, on freewill in two discourses, on
the soul and on man as the microcosm, and a treatise on the com-
position of man as consisting of soul and body.32 He is also men-
tioned by later authors as a WTiter on grammar ^
Somewhat before this time a monk of Edessa, whose name is un-
known to us, tried his hand at the composition of a tripartite his- '
torical romance/«-a history of Coustantiue and his three sons; an
account of Eusebius, bishop of Rome, and his sufferings at the hands
of Ju lan the Apostate ;_ and a history of Jovian or, al the Orientals
usually call him, Jovinian, under Julian and during his own reiroi
-The whole purports to be written by one Ai>l6ris or Aplolaris (Ap°oI-
iT'J" Vi^l °-^''l^} i^ *•"" '^""'^ of Jovian, at the request of 'AbbdeL
abbot of Sndrim (/) Mahoza, with a view to the conversion of the
heathens. AH three parts contain but a very small quantity of
historical facts or dates, and deal in the grossest exaggerations and
mventions. "iet the Sj-riao style is pure, and we |lin from the
book a good Idea of the way in which the author's countrymen
thought and spoke and acted. This romance has been published by
Hofrmann,3= and Koldeke has given a full account of it, with an
.abridged translation, ui 2. D. M. G. , xxviii. p. 263 sq. He places the
time of composition between 502 and 532. It is curious to find that
tins romance must have been known in an Arabic translation to the
;? ^''"^f " '?ne ertract from this work in Cod. Vat. cxI. (CaM.. iii 232)
663 ; «lvi ■ ^^^ """■ "'""' ^^- ^°'^- ^^- ">"•■ ^^''•^ 676 jciiih, dated
=2 Brit. Mus. Add. 17154. 3 Brit. Mus. Add. 17210-11, 12157.
-> Compare, for example, Wright, Catal., p. 1323. The translation of Uie
Oclozcms .s the work, not of Paul of Callmicus. but of an abbSpaul who e"o
''"Jfll' "■ '-'"' '^'^n J of Cyprus (see p. 638 i-n/ra). '
„„ f . ^•^'^'''. !i™t'd by Assemani (B.O., i. 409, note 2) seems, however to
confound Lira with his namesake of Edessa. . > ""■' '>=<:m!,, nowei er, m
-8 hO iii I 2<i7, note 6, 278, 338-339, 351 col. 2 ; comp. Bruns and Sachan
SmisOi-RoimsAcs TucMsbHcli, 1880. pp. 175.180 "i"i"> auu oauiao.
bei'^rLV'if- A'*'^- '"2S (Wright, Cn(„/., p. 177), and Paris, Suppl. 38 (Zoten.
berg, Calal p ,5, col. 1, ^o. 4ii). The text of the former was t^rst pnkshco
by Und (Anicd. .Syr., i. 30-04), with a Latin translation. Both have been ed'tej
and translated, along with the Arabic and Armenian versions, with trauslatiuno
^''^ a learned apparatus, by Brunsand Sachau, op. cit.
-a Wright, Catd., p. 1184.
» Chroti Eccles ii. 99 ; comp. B.O., ii. 414, iii. 1, 192. note 3.
Z iii'.l'^V'l ""* d'Sf'ct bet^v-een Nisibis and the Tigris. 31 B.O.. iii 1 102
^ See'£'.'o.,'i'.''r«6rno'?e"V"' ^"'^ '^'^ ^'''^ "''" ^^"^^^' '"^- »■ '"'■^~
35 Contained in Bm- Mls. Add. 14041, ff. 1-131. a MS. of the 6th century.
" Jultanos der AUrunnige, 1880. >.5ui,uij..
6th cent.]
8YRIAC LITERATURE
835
liistorian af-Tabari, wlio treats it as a genuine historical document.'
From bim it has passed to the Kdmil of Ibu al-Athir, i 2S3 sq.,
-nnd the Akhbar alBashar of Abu 'I-riJi {HiU. Antcistamica, ed.
Floi-scbcr, p. 84). Ibn Wajili al-Ya'kubi seems in bis Annals- to
have drawn from tbe same source, tbougb independently of at-
Tabari, and so also al-JSlas'udi, Afuruj adh-Dhahab, ii. 323. Bar-
Hebrams has also made some use of it in his Chronicon, ed. Bruus
and Kirscb, pp. 68-69. No doubt, too, it is the work attributed by
'Abhd-isho' to tbe grave ecclesiastical historian Socrates, who, as be
says,^ wrote "a history of the e?nperors Constantine and Jovinian."
Another, but much inferior, romance, of which Julian is the hero,
is contained in Brit. JIus. Add. 7192. a manuscript of the' 7th cen-
tury. It lifls been edited by Hoffmann, op. cit., pp. 242-259, and
translated by NolJeke, Z.D.M.G., xxviii. 660-674. We shall not
Le far wrong in assigning it Jikewise to the 6th century, though it
is probably rather later tiiau that just noticed.
Of real- historical value, on tho contrary, is the anonymous
Chronicoii £di:ssai inn, fortunately preserved to us in the Vatican
JIS. cLxiii.,* and edited by Assemani in S.O., L 388-117. There is
an English translation of it in the Journ. of Sacred Lit., ISe^t, vol.
V. (new ser.X p. 28 sq. It begins with A.Gr. 180, but the entries
are very sparse till we.reach A.Gr, 513 (202 a.d.). The last of them
refers to tbe year 540, about which time tbe little book must have
been compiled. The author made use of the archives of Edessa
and other documents now lost to us, as well as of the Chronicle of
Joshua the Stylite (see above, p. 832). In religious matters he is
not a violent partisan, nor given to the use of harsh words, a thing
- to be noted in the age in which he lived.
John. of Another writer of first-rate importance as a historian is John,
Asia or bishop of Asia or Ephcsus, "the teacher of tbe heathen," "the
Pphesus. overseer of the hcatlien," and "the idol-breaker," as he loves to
style himself.* He was a native of Amid,^ and must have been
born early in the 6lh century, according to Land about 505. He
was ordained deacon in the convent of St John in 529, when he
must have been at least twenty years of age.' In 534 the terrible
pestilence bf the reign of Justinian broke out, andat that time
John was in Palestine," having, doubtless, fled from Amid to avoid
the persecution of the Monophysitcs by Abraham bar Kill (?) of
Telia, bishop of Amid (from about 520 to 5461, and Ephraim
lar Appian of Amid, patriarch of Antioch (52'' -544), "a much
worse persecutor tlian Paul or Euphrasius."' In 635 we iiud him
.it Constantinople, where in the following year, according to Bar-
Hebrsus,'" he became bishop of the Jlonophysites in succession to
the deposed Anthimus. Be this as it may, he was certainly re-
ceived with great favour by Justinian, whose friendship and con-
fidence he enjoyed for thirty years, and "had the administration
of the entire revenues of all the congregations of the believers
(i.e., the Jlonophysites) in Constantinople and everywhere else.""
Wishing to root out heathenism in Asia ilinor, obviously for
political as well as religious' reasons, the emperor appointed John
to be his missionary bishop.'^ In this task be had great success,
to which his faithful fiiciul and fcllow-labourcr for thirty-five years,
Deuterius, largely contributed." He interested himself, too, in the
missionary efforts of Julian, Theodore, and Longinus among tho
Nubians and Aloda'i.'* In 546 the emperor employed him in search-
ing out and putting down the secret practice, of idolatry in Constan-
tinople and its neighbourhood." After tbe death of his patron the
fortunes of John soon underwent a c.hange. Ek. i. of the tbiid
part of bis i/w(on/ commences with the persecution under Justin iu
571, in which he suffered imprisonment.'" His friend Deuterius,
whom he had made bishop of Caria, was also persecuted, and died
at Constantinople." From this time forward John's story is that
of his party, and the evidently confused ■and disordered state of his
Uislortj is fully explained and e.'ccuscd by his own words iu bk. ii.
50, where he tells us" "that most of these histories were written
at the very time when the persecution was going on, and under the
difficulties caused by its pressure ; and it was even necessary that
friends should remove the leaves on which these chapters were in-
scribed, and every other particle of writing, and conceal them iu
various places, where they sometimes remained for two or three
' At-Tabari, AniwUs, i. S40 aq.: see Noliloke, In Z.Ti.M.G., xxvlil. 291-282, and
CcschiclUc dcr I'cntcr vitd Arabcf zur ZfU drr JiaiaKuicil, p. 69 eq.
! Ed. Iloutama, i. 1821S3. 3 B.O., ill. 1, ■II. . * See Calal, >\i. 3iO.
6 Boo J^cdcs. ilisL, od. Cureton, bit. il. cb. ' and bk. lii. cb. 36 ; Lnwd, A nnd,
Si/r., ii. 260, I. 2j. 6 JJ.O., ii. 83 ; Mar-lli'briciis, Chrmi. Lcclci.. i. lOi.
' Ji.O., iL, Dissert, de Montwfij/sitiji, p. cxxv.; Land, Anted. Syr., 174, 11. ti, 9.
8 D.O., il. SjSO. » E.ll., cd. Cureton, bk. \.ch. xli.; conip. JI.O., Ii. 61.
10 Chron. Hccles., L 195. " E.ll., ed. Cnroton, bk. v. ch. 1.
la Ihtil., bk. il. ch. 44 ; bk. ill. ch. 30, 37 ; conip. B.O., il. 85.
la E.Jt., cd. Cureton, bk. ii. cli. 41.
•* Ibid., bk. iv. ell. 0-8. 49-53 ; comp. Bnr-ITcbrjr.ns. Chron. Eccla., I. 229. How
just his views wcro as a niisMionary may bo sccA . oin bk. fv. ch. 60, where ho
fitiya " tliat it was not rh:lit that to an cni^g nnd * 'atljcn rconle, who aHkcd
to be converted to Christi.inity nnd to Ic.-ird tho fear of CJod, tfieic stiould bo
«ent by letter, before cvcrythinj; that was necessary for their edification, con-
fusion and offence and tho revitincD of Ctiristians against Christians."
" B.O., ii. 85.
>6 E.ll., ed. Curclon, bk. L ch. 17; bk. 11. ch. 4-7. Of unjust legal proceed-
ings he complains In bk. II. ch. 41, where he losea his TrpodffTctov, Ac.
" E.ll., cd. Cureton, bk. II. ch. 44. " Poyuc Smith's trausUition, p. 1C3.
years. When therefore matters occurred which the writer wished
to record, it was possible that he might have partly spoken of them
before, but he had no papers or notes by which to read and know
whether they had been described or not. If therefore he did not
remember that he had recorded them, at some subsequent time he
probably again proceeded to their detail ; and therefore oci^a-sionally
the same subject is recorded in more chapters than one ; nor after-
wards did he ever find a fitting time for plainly and clearlj- arrang-
ing them in an orderly narrative." Some of the chapters arc actu-
ally dated at various times from A.Gr. 886 (573 A.D.) to 896 (585).
Tbe time and place of his death arc unknown, but he cannot
have lived long after 585, being then about eighty years of age. '»
His greatest litciary work is his Ecclesiastical Eistonj in three
parts,. the first two of which, as he himself tells us,'* embraced, in
six books each, the period from Julius Cajsar to the seventh yea/
of Justin II., whilst the third, aUo in si.x books, carried on the tale
to the end of the author's life. The first part is entirely lost. O*
the second we have copious exceriits in the Chronicle of Dionysins of
Tell-Mabre-' and in two MSS. in the British Museum.^ The third "has
fortunately come down to us, though with considerable lacuna?, in
Brii. Mas. Add. 14640 (of the 7th century>.=» This book is worthy
of all praise for the fulness and accuracy of its information and
the evident striving of the author after impartiality. The Syriac
style, however, is very awkward and involved, and abounds in
Greek words and phrases. Of scarcely less value for the history
of his own time is another work entitled Biographies of Eastern
Saints, men and women, contained in Brit. Uns. Add. 14647, ft
1-135.^ These lives were gathered intcvone corpus about 569, as
appears from the account of tho combination of tbe monasteries
of Amid during the persecution of 521, which wa?. put on paper
in 567,"' and from the history of the convent of St J<5nn, extending
from its foundation in 389 to 568.^ To these lives Land has added
three more, which are ascribed in JISS. to John, but dcf not seem to
have been iucluded in this collection.^
The name of Zacharias Rhetor or Scholasticus, bishop of llitylene Zachar-
in Lesbos,^ must next be mentioned, for, thongh a Greek author, ias
his work has entered into the Syriac literature as part of a compila- Rhetor.
tion by a Syrian monk. The Ecclesiastical History of Zacharitts
seems to have terminated about the year 518, whereas hisSj-riac
translator was •ivriting as late as 569," and even later." The ilS.
in the British JIuseum, Add. 17202,* cannot be j-ounger than the
beginning of the 7th century, and is clearly the compilation of a
Monophysite, who used Zacharias as his chief, authority in books
iii. -vi. ; whereas books i., ii,, andrii-sii. were gathered from' differ-
ent sources, such as Moses of Aggel (about 550-570), Simeon of
Beth Arsham (see above, p. 832), Mara of Amid (see above, p. 833),
the correspondence of Julian of Halicarnassus and Sevcrus of Antioch
(see above, p. 834), tho history of John of Ephesus," &c. In a
Syriac MS. in the Vatican (No. cxlv.)*" we find a series of extracts
from this Syriac work (f. 78 sq.) as a continuation of copious ex-
cerpts from the Greek histories of Socrates and Theodoret. The
last of these, on the public buildings, statues, and other decorations
of the city df Kome, has been carefully re-edited and annotated by
Guidi.33
We tiu'n from the historians to tho ascetic writers of this century,
who seem to have been mote prized by their countrymen, though
far less valuable to us. And first wo mention tho author who is
commonly called John Sabha''' or " the Aged," placing him'here on John
tbe authority of Assemani {B.O., i. 433), for 'Abhd-isho' claims bim Sabhi
as a Nestorian [B.O., iii. 1, 103). His floruit is given as about
1^ Sec Land, Joaiint^s Bischo/ von Epliis^s, dtr entt Si/rische KirchanJiUlorilxr,
1S5G. A very useful book. .»
=" E.H., cd. Cureton, bk. i. ch. S. =' B.O., U. lOO : comp. pp. 85-90.
" Add. 14047 (dated OSS), ff. 13l!-139 ;.Add. H060 (dated 875), If. lSil-:0<i.
Edited by Land, Anecd. Syr., ii. 289-329 and 385-391. See ahio a iiuaU trag-
nieut, ibid., 303, from Add. 12164, f. 201b.
^ EUlited by Cureton, 1863. There is an English translation by R. Fa>-ns
Smith, ISOO, and a Gerumn one by Schonfoldor, 1802.
•-■I Edited by Land, Anccd. Sj/r., ii. 1-2S8.
ai Anted, i'!/!-., ii. 212, 1. 17 ; SCO also p. 191, last trro linen.
"-» Ibid., ii. 2S8, 11. 2, 3.
IT Ibid., ii. 343-302 That of Jacob BnnU'ilnfiCiW., p. S64) ia not hln, at lewt
in it3 present shape (see above, p. 833X There is a 8lif;btly dillcFCAt n^lactloo of
it iu the Bibl. Nation, at Paris, Anc. fonda 144 (Zi>teul«T(t, Colul., p. 1871.
•■a See l.ani, Jonnries llixho/ Kn Eib'i,^s, p. 3.'>>V',a"d .tiuo((.:>>r., lil., Preface.
2J> Land, Anted. Stir., iii. i>p. xl., xli., and p. 6, 1. 21 j.;.
JO See Wrisht. CalaL, p. 1040 iq. ■ •
3' Not a few chai.ters iii books vii.-T. seem to bo derived, in part at any i»t«,
fl-nm the second part of the r'>'' '* 'i' /rf i'>ri;.
3- Ca(ii(., iii. 263 ; B.O.. i. ' ' . x.
pp. xi.-xiv., 332-38«. The M !'
iiteris stronghyli^eiarutui' I, ;»
of IheSth century, Bait conUiua. I ^.u^l Uji' i h;,..i(Ii i.i..|'. "i. ' •■.i ii"'«|
3J ;( Trslo Sirlaco della PcJcriiJone d( Stma, lie., from tb« IlHllrUIno dWI«
Comm)i.iiont Arcluohijiea di llama, (uc. Iv. anno .ies4 (Rome. 1SS6). It l« .ilso
cvt;.i.t in a shorter fimn In Brit. Mua. Add. 12164, f. 168« (•«• Wright, CafoJ.,
p. !'*■! ; Ciuidi. p. 236 5*7.).
34 Tliere is Some uncei talnty about his name. In B.O., I. 434, Aasolliuil give*
I^^^a)) 091 ^^Oa, .lohn of DlUIti, vhleh, ho says (p. 439). Is a
convent at Nineveh, on the opposite bank of the Tigris from MoaUI. Is voL
Ui. 1, 103 he prints OlIW^Vj O jl ^i««Q« , vhich ho renders Joinnat
836
B Y R I A C L 1 T E K A T U 11 E
650. nis writiiiRS consist of short sermons or tracts, cxrliisively
iiitcuJoJ for the training and stuJy of monks and ccnnohites, and
a number of letters. 'AWid-ialjo' (he. cd.) says: "ho conijiosed
two volnnics, besides inoHinrul ejiistles, on tiie monastic life."
They were .■nlleeted ' l)y his brother, wlio has jirelixcd a brief apology,
at tlie onilofwliieli the reader may lind acnrinus examjile ofatfeeted
liiiniility {I1.0.,i. 4:;j).- T«o short specimens of the style of "the
spiriuwl old mnn," mh-Shtiikh ar-ruhdiu, are printed in Zingerle's
ilonuiiinja Si/r., i. 102-104.
A little junior to John Srd)li.'i was the even more widely known
Isaac of Nineveh,' to whom the Xestorians also lay claim. * His
date is fixed, as Asscniani points out, by the facts of his citing
Jacob of Serugh and corresponding with Simeon Stylitcs the younger
or TlKinmastontes, who died in 593. According to the Arabic
bio-'raphy, printed \u S 0 , i. 444, he was a monk of the convent
of Miir iSlatthcw at .Mosnl, and afterwards bernmo bishop of that
city, but soon resigned his office and retiied to the desert of Skcte
in Egypt, where he composed his ascetic works. According to
'Abhd-ibho' (£.0., fii. 1, 104), Isaac "wrote scveji volumes on the
guidance of the .'Spirit, and on the Divine mysteries and judgements
and dib]iensatiun." Maiiy of his di.sconrses and e|)istles have been
catalogued by Assemani, B.O., i. 446-460. The MS. Vat. cx.xiv.
contains tbc first Imlf of his writings (Cn'n/., iii. 143), and similarly
MSS. lirit. .Mns. Add. 14632 and 14633.' The Arabic translation
is divided into four books ; the Ethiopic is naturally derived from
the Arabic. A Greek version was made from the original Syriac
^y two monks of St Saba, near Jerusalem, named Patricius .ind
Abraaniius, on which see Assemani, B.O., i. 445, and Bickell, Con-
sjirclns, p. 26. The only printed sjiecimens of his discourses are
two in y,iiigcile's..I/oiiii'(ic/it« Si/r., i. 97-101.
(Umliain Another aiithor of this class, but of less mark, is Abraham ot
if Ntoli- Nephtai,' nho Honiished towards the end of the 6th century and
ar.' in the carlv part of the 7th.' Him too the Nestorians claim as
theirs.* 'Abhd-isho' speaks of "various works" of his,' but our
libraries seem to contain only eight short discourses, ihe titles of
which are given by Assemani, B.O., i. 464."" They have been trans-
lated into Arabic, and there was also a Persian version of tbeiu by
Tob the monk (i'.O., iii. 1, 431).
.ifoses of We record here the n.ame of Moses of Aggel as being one of those
AggcL rfho, after Kabbfda, niulertook the translation of the writings of
Cyril of Alexandria into Synac. He made a version of the Gln-
iihijio, at the request of a monk named Pajdumtius, from whose
letter" we learn that the treatise On Worship iii Spiril and in
Tinth had been already translated,'- whilst from the rejily of
iloses, as quoted mB 0., ii. 82-83, it is obvious that he was writing
ofler the death of Philoxcnus and the chorcpiscopus Folycarp.
Hence we may jdacc him .soon after the middle of the century, say
fioin ,')50 to 570. Much later he cannot be, because his translation
t)f the History of Jloses and Asyat.h (see above, p. 826)_ has been ad-
mitted into the Syriac compilation that passes under the name of
Zac-naiias IJIietor (see above, p. 835). '■'
?eiei o[ Peter of Callinicus (ar-ltakkah), Jacobite patriarch of Antioch,
lioll.ui- 578-591, '* deserves mention on account of his huge contioversial
UU> treatise against Dami.an, patriarch of Alexandria, manuscripts of
[laits of which, of llie 7tli and 8th centuries, are extant in the
Vatican and the Hritisli Jlyscum.'^ Other writings of his arc an
anaphora,"^ a short treatise against the Tritheists,'' snnilry letters,'*
and a metrical homily on tlie Crucifixion of our Lord." In the
D.nliritlionsis, i.e., from ail-Ciliyali, iJl jJI, probably me.lniiig D.iliyat Sl.ilik
iliii T.iuk, iin tlie rf^til )"niik of the Eii|'lir.itrs l>clow ar-R.Tkk.ili .Tntl R.il.b.it
Mnllk ibii 'r.iiik. Ill tlie \";ilican Od-i.'o^'ic lie calls liiiii D.iIuitlifDsis, wntnig,
lioucvci-, ill Syriac |^a. >^J>. Cut liow can JIL^^^I mean "of ad-
D.iliy.ili ■• (l...«-^J)? Followius tlic .inalogy of «-.CTQ^^SJ ^*t-^5
i»* J1 C ^ f CD ^ ^14*04, niiil the like, it ought rather to iiicait " Juliii of the
Vine ni.,rn-hes," or '* Joliil with the Varicose Veins," or (as in Aratiic) "JoJin
ofllie liiieliOla."
' Stc Wi i;;lit, CiiM., p. sri3. ;. Ill the B.O., i. -134, Assemani gives an Arabic
version of it IVoiii .1 Valic.lti .MS.
I 2 i-Vi-.t livt of tliciii ill Syii.tc and Ai'nbic, sec 71.0., i.435-H4,aiiiIcnmp. ■Wright,
Cn/ii/., pp. 582, 684.Si;0, S70{No. 10). Tlieiv is also an Etliiopic version,, vimgdu'i
^hn'fit^'nr'i, iii.-nlc from tin; Ai.lbic; see Zoleiibci;.', i'nlttl. tics itSS. LthiopUns
i(« In l:ibl. Xiilhm., No. Hi, li. 134. 3 a.lK, i. 4J4.
* Iliiil., Iii. 1. 104. = Wiiiiht, Cfilal, pp. SllO, 576.
* AlsowrilLeu Nethpar anil Neplir.illi ; sec Assemani, Cnta?. rnl.,iii. I3S. Bnt.
iis we e.Tn fiiitt no trace of any such town at Xephtar, the name of \^3 A.*^!
iliay li.i\e some other origin. 7 £.0., iii. ], 191, note 1.
8 Compare Wiight, Oi'o/., p. \!i~, Xo. 154. 9 /I.O.. iii. 1. 101.
JO lliereseciii tobe ten in Cod. Vat. ecccxix.; 8eeMai,£tTip«.rc//. AoiuCoff.,
f. CO.
I ii Coil. Vnt. e>rii. {Cnlal.t iii. 53) ; Guidi, IlendiconU dclla R. Accntlemia del
wiiifi, .May .iml .fime, IsSG, p. 31)0 $q.
12 llrit Mils. Add. \i\iM, If. l.'..'i.'J.-.S, bears date- OSS (Wright, Cnlrtl., p. 491).
1^ Of the Vatican MS. of the Clnplnjvn only five leaves reni.iin (Cnlnl.. iii. 54),
ail'I the SI.S. in the Ilritisti Museum, Add. 14506, is very imperfect (Wright,
Vittnl.^ p. 4S3). Aa Guidi li.Ts sjmwn, these two MSft. arc merely the disjfcia
membra of one codex. 1* /i.O., it. GO. 3:!2: Bar-Tlebnens, Citron. Ecclcs.,i. 2.00.
:a ll.n., il. 77 -sj ; eomp. Ihr Helm'iis. Citron. Ecclrs., i. 207. '6 B.O., ii. 77.
17 Hiil. Mils. Add. I-;i.-.'., f. SUbfWii.jht, Cttftil.. p. 9.M).
•■• WrigUt, Cuiui., ji. JJIU 11) lim. M'lS. Alio. lii'Jl (Wright, Cilal.i. 071).
LOTH GEN*.
dispute between him and Damian was involved his syncellus and
sucvessor Julian, who defended Peter against an attack made upon
him by Sergius the Armenian, bishop of Edessa, and bis brotner
John ■■^''
Of the numerous Nestorian WTiters of the 6th century we unfor-
tunately know but little more than can be learned from the cata-
logue of 'Abhd-isho'. Their works have either been lost, or else
very few of them have as yet reached our European libraries.
The successor of Narsai (above, p. 830) in the school of Nisibis
was his sister's son Abraham,-i who must' have fled from Edessa
with his nncle.'^^ His principal writings are commentaries on Joshua,
Judges, Kings, Ecclcsiasticus, Isaiah the twelve minor prophets,
Daniel, and the Song of Songs.'^
To him succeeded as teacher John, also a disciple of Narsai." He
wrote commentaries on Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers, Job, Jere-
miah, Ezekiel, and Proverbs ; also controversial treatises against
the Magi or Persian priesthood, the Jews, and (Christian) heretics ;
a book of questions on the Old and New Testaments ; and various
hymns. If the discourses on the plague at Nisibis-' and the death
of Khosrau I. Anosharvvan be really by him, he was alive as late-
as 579, in the spring of which year that monarch died.^'
John was followed by Joseph Huzaya,'' another disciple of Narsai,^ Jo-cph
and the first Syriac grammarian. (3f him Bar-Hebraeus observct? HQjill
that "he clianged the Edessene (or Western) mode of reading into '
the Eastern mode which tlie Nestorians employ ; otherwise during
the whole time of Narsai they used to read like us Westerns." He
was the inventor of some of the Syriac signs of interpunction," and
wrote a treatise on grammar " and another on words that are siielled
with the same letters but have different meanings.'^
Of Miir-abha^^ the Elder, catholicus from 536 to 552, we have
already spoken above as a translator of the Scriptures (p. 826). He
was a convert from the Zoroastrian religion, and seems to have been
a man of great talent and versatility, as he mastered both the Greek
and Syriac languages. Receiving baptism at Herta (al-Hirah) fronx
a teacher named Joseph, he went for the purposes of study to Nisibis,
and afterwards to Edessa, where he and his teacher Thomas" trans-
lated into Syriac the liturgy of Nestorius.^' They visited Constanti'
nople together, and, escaping thence at some risk of their lives, be-
took themselves to Nisibis, where Mar-abha became eminent as a
teacher. On being chosen catholicus he opened a college at Seleucia
and lectured there. Unluckily, he got into controversy, it is said,
with the Persian monarch Khosrau I. Anosharwan (531-579), who
banished him to Adharbaigau (Azerbijan) and destroyed the Nes-
torian church beside his palace at Seleucia. Mar-abha, however,
had the temerity to return to Seleucia, was thrown by the king into
prison, and died there.-* His dead body was carried by one of his
disciples to Herta, where it was buried and a monastery erected over
the grave. He wrote ^' commentaries on Genesis, the Psalms, and
Proverbs, and the epistles of St Paul to the Romans, Corinthians,
Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, and Hebrews ; various homilies ;
synodical epistles'*; and ecclesiastical canons.^ In these last he
opposed the practice of marriage at least among the higher orders
of the clergy, the bishops and catholics. What is meant by his
"canoncs in totum Davidem" may be seen from such MSS. of the
20 n.O., ii. S33 ; Ear-Hebra^us, Ckron. Ecdes., i. 259.
«i B.<^., lit. 1. 71. Assemani would seein to have confounded him with a later,
Abraham of Dcth R.abhan ; see his note, B.O., iii. 1, 831.
22 There scpiiis to be norc.ison for identifying him with Abraham "the Mede,"*
whom Simeon of Beth Arsliain nicknames " the Heater of Baths "(B.O., i. 302).
^ The hymn appended to Nestorian copies of the Psalter probably pertains
to tins Abiaham and not to the later Abraham of Beth Rabban (see, for ex-
ample, Brit. Mus. Add. T156, f. 157b): comp. Bickell, Coitspecfii5, p. 37, and
Hollmann, Opusc. Kcstor., xi., note 2.
2-1 B.O.y iii. 1, 72. Here again Assemani seems to have mixed up thi9 John
with a later John of Beth Rabban and with Jotin Sabha of Beth Gai-mai ; see
his additional notes in D.O., iii. 1. 631, 70S.
£5 During the time of the catholics Joseph and Ezekitl, from 552 to 67S;
see B.O., ii. ll3, 433, note 2.
M Tlie hymn in tlie N'estorian 5ISS. of the Psalter (tnentioned in note 23
above) is probably by this John and not by the later John of Beth Rabban ;
comp. Hotrnianns note referred to above. The monastery of Rabban Zlkli.a-
islio' (or islio'-zekha) in D.^sen was not founded till about 500, and Zf-kha-is]iu*
himself did not die till the thirteenth year of Khosrau II. Parwez, 603 ; Bca,
B.O., iii. 1, 472.
£7 I.P.. of al-A^wSz or Khuzistiin." He must not be confounded with Joseph'
Hazjaya, of whom we shall speak hereafter (see p. S3S infra).
28 Bar-I?ebra?us, Citron. EccUs., ii. 78, says that Joseph HOzaya was the im-
mediate successor of Xarsai ; but the ^'esto^ian writer cited by Assemani (B.O.,
ill. 1, 04) is likely to be better informed. The passage quoted t&id., p. 82, pointj
in the same direction ; comp. also B.O., iii. 2. cinxxviL
29 I.oc. c:i.: comp. B.O., ii. 407.
30 See Wright, Catal., p. 107, col. 2. Assemani (B.O., iii. 1, 64, col 2) has mis-
translated the words CitJ ABmSJ (»V3?" (_«»Lo aft . Comp. Hcffinann.
Opnsc. Ki-slor., v-iii., xi. 31 Berlin, Royal Library, Saehaa 226, 4.
32 Bar-Hebrxiis, CEuvres grammatitxtles, ed. Martin, ii. 77
33 I'loperly Mar(i)-abliii, but we shall write Mar-abha.
34 Probably the same who is mentioned among his disciples inB.O.,ii. 412, anu
some of whose writings are enumerated by 'Abhd isho' in B.O., iii. 1, 8C-7.
35 So'Abhd-isho' in B.O., iii. 1, 36 ; but in Brit. Mus. Add. 7181 the same remark
is made as to the liturgy of Theodore of Mopsuestia (see Rosen, CalaL, p. 59).
36 yj.O., ii. 411-412, iii. 1,75, notes 1,2; Bar-Hebneus, Ckron., Ecda.. ii. 8i)-0S.
37 B.O., iii. 1, 70. 38 ititl., iii. I, 76, note 4.
3a Ibid., iii. 1. SI. and note 1 ; com;. Cod. Vat. cccvi. in Mai. Scriptt. V$tt. Acvt
Coll., v. 21.
6th cent.]
SYRIAC LITERATURE
837
Psalter as Brit. Mus. Add.7156' and Munich, cod. Syr. 4 ^Orient.
, 147).' Hymns of Ids are also extant.'
Under Mar-abha flourished Abraham of Kashkar- (al-Wasit), dis-
tinguished for his acquaintance with philosophy and for his ascetic
virtues. He introduced certain reforms into the Persian monas-
teries. After living for some time in a cave at Hazzah,* ho betook
himself to Jerusalem and thence to Egypt. Returning to his old
haunt, he led the life of a hermit for thirty years, travelling into
the far north as a missionary. He died at "Hazzah, but his body
wa.s secretly removed to his native place Kashkar. He wrote a
treatise on the monastic life, which was translated into Persian by
his disciple Job the monk.'
He must, it would seem, be distinguished from another Abraham
of Kashkar, who lived about the same time, and with whom Asse-
Irani has confounded him.* This Abraham was a student at Nisibis
under Abraham the nephew of Narsai. Thence he went to Herta
(al-Hirah), where he converted some of the heathen inhabitants,
visited Egypt and Mount Sinai, and finally settled down as a hermit
in a cave on Mount Izla, near Nisibis, where a great number of
followers soon gathered about him and a large monastery was built.
He introduced stricter rules than heretofore among the ccenobites.'
Hi.'( death did not take place till towards the end of the century.'
Theo- Tbdodore, bishop of Maru or Merv, was appointed to this see by
dore of Mar-abha in place of David, whom he had deposed, about 540.
Merv. He seema to have been much addicted to the study of the Aristo-
telian dialectics, since several of the translations and treatises of
Sergius of Ras'ain are dedicated to him.* Among his own works'"
there is mentioned " a solution of the ten questions of Sergius." He
also composed a commentary on the Psalms and a metrical history
of Mar Eugenius and his companions,'' who came from Klysma and
introduced asceticism into Mesopotamia about the beginning of the
4th century. What may have been the contents of the " liber varii
argument!" which he wrote at the request of Mar-abha himSelf it
is nard to guess, in the default of any copy of it.
Oubriel Theodore's brother Gabriel, bishop of Hormizdsher," is stated by
of Hor- 'Abhd-isho' " to have written two controversial books against the
mkdsher. Manichees and the Chaldajans (astrologers), as also about 300 chap-
ters on various passages of Scripture which needed elucidation and
explanation.
Joseph The success.or of Mar-abha in the see of Seleuoia was Joseph, in
of Seleu- 652. He studied medicine iu the West and practised in Nisibis,
cia. where he lived in one of the convents. Having been introduced
by a Persian noble to the notice of Khosrau I., he cured tliat monarch
of an illness, and ingratiated himself with him so much that he
favoured his appointment to the office of catholicus. Of his strange
pranks and cruelties -as archbishoj) some account, doubtless highly
coloured, may-be read in B.O., lii. 1, 432-433, and Bar-Hebrajus,
Ckron. EcclcS; it 95-97. He was deposed after he had sat for three
years, but he lived twelve years longer, during which time no suc-
cessor was appointed. He promulgated twenty-three canons,'^ and,
according to Elias, bishop of Damascus (893),'* after his deposition
drew up a list of his predecessors in the dignity of catholicus,
wherein ho would seem to have paid special attention to those who
had shared the same fate with himself. At least Bar-HebrEeus'" (per-
haps not a quite trustworthy witness in this case) gives currency
to the charge of his having forged the consolatory epistles of Jacob
of Nisibis and Mar Ephraim to Papa of Seleucia on his deposition.
Paof the A little later in the century, 'inder the sway of his successor
Persian. Ezekiel (a disciple of Mar-abha and the son-in-law of his predecessor
Paul), 667-580," there flourished Paul the Persian,"* of Dersbar or
Dershahr," a courtier of Khosrau I. Anosharwan.-' He is said by
Bar-Hebra;us 2' to have been distinguished alike in ecclesiastical and
philosophical lore, and to have aspired to the post of metropolitan
I Rosen, Catal., p. 12.
3 Verj:ekJiniss d. orient. ITandschri/len d. k. Ho/- u. SUutts-Bihl., &c., p. 111.
> See Bickell, ConspKtus, p. S7, and corap. Brit. Mus. Add. 17219, f. 105b (beg.,
Glory to Thee, Lord ; hew good 'liiott art .'\
* A viUago near Arbel or Irbil, in I.It5dhaiyabh.
5 B.O., iii. 1, 166, col. 1, 431 ; iii. '2, decclxxiii.
« Corap. B.O., iii. 1, 154, nolo 4, witli Hotrinann, Auxmge, p. 172.
» H.O., lii. 1, 93. e Spo nc.mnaun, loc. oil.
» Sen Brit. Mu3. Add. H668 (Wright, fatal., p. 1151); Kennn, De "hUotorhia
Peripat. ap. Syros, p. 29. 10 U.O., ill. 1, 147.
II Sec B.O., iii. 1, 147, note 4, and 633 ; lii. 2, dccclxii.; Bar.Hebraua, Chron.
Bcdes., i. 85, with nolo 6 ; HofTtnauii, Ausziige, p. 167. If the poem mentioned
by Aasomani (B.O., iii. 1, 147, note 4) roaliy spcnl<a of Abnhain of Knshltarand
still raoro of Babhai of NisibLi, it must bo of later date, and HodYnann Is inclined
to ascribe it to George Wards, a writ«v of the 13th centurj- (sec .Zionist, p. 171.
note 1327).
u A corruption of Hormizd.Ardaslier, still fUvthor shortened by the Aralw
loto Hormushir. It is identical witli Sni< al-AliwSz. or .siiiipiy al-Aliw.'iz, on
the river KftrOn. Sec Noldeko, Gesch. d. I'crser u. Araber, p. 19, with note 6.
13 B.O., iii. 1, 147.
'* Ibid., lii. 1. 435. Elias bar ShInSyS cites hia "Bynod"; see Bar-Hebrffiuj,
Chron. Ecclcs., il. 96, note 1.
15 In his JVomocanoJl, quoted by Asscmanl, B.O., III. 1, 434.
'• Chron. Bcdet., II. 81.
'7 See B.O., iii. 1, 485-439 ; Bar-IIcbraus, Chron. Errla., 11. 97, 103.
'8 B.O., iii. 1, 439 ; Renan, De Philos. Peripat. ap. Syroi, pp. 10-22.
*•* i A { * ?i a place not known to tlio present writer.
M See N'oi'deke, GesA. d. Ferser u. Araber, n. 160, note 3.
*> Chron, Eoclet., U. 87.
bishop of Persis, but, being disappointed, to have gone over to ths
Zoroastrian religion. This may or may not be true ; but it is cer-
tain that Paul thought more of knowledge than faith, for thus he
speaks^: " Scientia enim agit de rebus proximis ct manifestis et
quas sciri possunt, fides autem do omnibus materiis qute rcmotiB
sunt, neque conspiciuiitur neque certa ratione cogiioscuntur. Hsee
quidem cum dubio est, ilia autem sine dubio. Oinne dubium dis-
seiisionem parit, dubii absentia autem unanimitatem. Scientia
igitur potior est fide, et ill.im prae hac eligendum est." Bar-
Hcbra;us speaks of Paul's "admirable introduction to the dialectics
(of Aristotle ),"23 by which ho no doubt means the treatise on logic
extant in a single MS. iu the Brit. Mu3.=* It has been edited, witU
a Latin translation and notes, by Land."
About this same time Assemani'-* places the periodeutes Bodh, who
is said to have had the charge of the Christians in the remoter dis-
tricts of the Persian empire as far as India. Among his writings are
specified " discourses on the faith and against the Manichees and
Marcionites," as well as a book of "Greek questions," probably
philosophical, bearing the strange title of Alcph Mh/ni.-' AH thesa
have perished, but his name will go down to remote posterity as
the translator into Syriac of the collection of Indian talcs com-
monly called Kalllah and Bimnah.'^ Of this work a single copy
has come down to our time, preserved in an Oriental library. A
transcript of it was first procured by Bickell,^ who, in conjunction
with Benfey, edited the book (Leipsic, 1876) ; and since then three
additional copies of the same original have been got by Sachau."
That Bodh made his Syriac translation from an Indian (Sanskrit)
original, as 'Abhd-isho' asserts, is wholly unlikely ; he no doubt
had before him a Pahlavi or Persian version. ^'
Just at this period the Nestorian Church ran a great risk ofHanniii#
disruption from an internal schism, llannana of Hedhaiyabh, of Hi-
the successor of Joseph Huzaya iu the school of Nisibis, who had, doaiy«-u^
it is said, a following of 800 pupils, ^^ had dared to assail the doc-
trines and exegesis of Theodore of Mopsuestia and to follow in some
points those of Chrysostom.^' He commenced his work at Nisibis,
under the metropolitan Alia-dh'abhu(hi),^^ by publishing a revised
edition of the statutes of the school. ^^ During ths time of the
catholicus Ezekiel (567-580)^ he brought forward his theological
views, which were condemned at a synod held under the next
catholicus, Isho'-yabh of Arzon (581-595),.^ and at another synod
presided over by his successor, Sabhr-isho' (596-G04).'' On thf
death of this latter a struggle took place between the rival factions,
the orthodox Nestorians putting forward as their candidate Gregory
of Tell-Besme,^" bishop of Nisibis, whilst the othcra supported
Gregory of Kashkar, a teacher in the school of Mrdioze or Siilik
(Seleucia).'"' Tho influence of the Persian court decided the matter
in favour of tho latter, who was a persona grata in the eyes of tho
queen Shirin end her physician Gabriel of Shiggar (Sinjar)," a
keen Monophysite, who naturally availed himself of this oppor-
tunity to harm the rival sect of Christians. Gregory was not,
however, a partisan of Hannana, but an orthodox Nestorian, as
appears from tho account given of tho synod over which ho pre-
sided,''- by which tho Nicene creed was confirmed, the comment-
aries of Theodore of Mopsuestia approved, and tho memory and
writings of Bar-.sauma vindicated against his assailants. Ho died
at the end of three years (607), and tho archiepiscopal see remained
vacant till after tho murder of Khosrau II. Parwcz in 628, during
which time of persecution Babhai the archimandrite distinguished
himself as the leader and guide of the Nestorian Church. In the
overthrow of Khosrau the oppressed Nestorians bore a part, more
especially Shamta*^ and Kurta, the sons of tho noble Yazilin, who
had been the director of the land-tax of tho whole kingdom and
li.ad amassed an enormous fortune, which tho king conliscated."
To return to Hannana, his works, as enumerated by 'Abhd-isho',**
are — commentaries on Genesis, Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastea,
the Song of Songs, tho twelve minor proi)hets, tho Gospel of St
Mark, and tho epistles of St Paul ; expositions of tho (Niceno)
creed and tho liturgy ; on tho occasions oi tho celebration of Palm
23 In tho Preface to his Logic, as translated by Land (sco note 25 below).
53 Chron. Eccta.,U.i)7. '* Add. MC60, f. 55b; see Wright, Cnltil .p. II«1.
la Anecd. Syr., iv., 8yr. text, pp. 1-32 ; tranSl., pp. 1-30 ; notes, pp. 99113.
|m B.O., iii. 1,219.
27 Assemani, loe. cit., note 1, proposes to read ?lrph MtUln, "(lie Thoiiuna
iVorda"; itxitAleph Migin is more likely to bo a corruption of s<iinr lircck word.
a The Syriac titio keeps tho older forms Knlllagh and Daninuiih.
M Gottiligen, university libmry, MS. Orient. 18u.
30 Berlin, Royal Library, Sachau 139, 119, 150.
31 SCO KeitliKalconor, Kalilah and Vtmnah, Introd., xlll. >7.
33 21.0., lii. 1, 81, note 2, 437. » Ibid., 111. 1, 84. note S.
34 Who was i)robably, thcrofort!, tho immediate prodrccssor of Circgory U96}
3' B.O., iii. 1, 83, at the end of tho first nolo. '« Ibid.. 1.. 413; III. 1,434.
37 Ibid., il. 415, iii. 1, IDS i Bar-Hobneus, Chron. Eccta.. il. 105, note 3.
33 B.O., il. 415; ill. 1,82, 411.
89 Not aromntarius, as Asricmanl translates Bfsmdy±.
"> B.O., a. i\i; ill 1,419. Woiiccdnolbeliovo thosUltclnent4arD(l-Uebrvl^
Oiron. Ecclca., 11. 107.
41 8eo/).0.,il. 404 406, 41(1. 472; Barnehnrin. CTi ron. r«J«., II. 109; Nohl«k«
(iff'-h. d. Perser «. Araber, p. 358, In tho note ; HolTliiann, Atiszugt, pp. 118HI
" B.O., III. 1, 452. " Se» « "., HI. 1, 471.
" See noffiiiann, A»uvi7r, pp. I161II ; Noldeko, Gtsch. d. Peratr u. Anil^r
p. 383. To Yazdin is ascribed a hymn which appcira In Noitorltn rMllers
e.g., Wright, Catat., p. 135 ; ZotenbcrK, Co/ol., p. ». « U.O., III. I, 8S-b4.
838
SYRIAC LITERATURE
[Tth cent.
Sunday, Golden Friday,' rogations,^ and the invention of tho
cross ; a discourse on I'alin Sunday ; and various other writings in
which he attacked the teaching of Theodore of Mopsuestia, and
which the church tlierefore placed on its index expurgatorius.^
ilcaeplmf The doctrines of Hannana found a warm champion in Joseph of
a«i2i. Hazza (Arbel or Irbil),'' with whom Babhai the archiin;indrite
entered into controversy.' He is said to have composed some 1900
tracts, of which 'Abhd-isho' mentions about a dozen as " profitable,"
whence we may conjecture that the rest were more or less deeply
tinged with heresy. The chief of them are — on theory (or specula-
tion) and practice ; the book of the treasurer, containing the solu-
tion of abstruse questions ; on misfortunes and chastisements ; on
the reasons of the principal feasts of the church ; the book of the
histories of the Paradise of the Orientals, containing many notices
of ecclesiastical history ; an exposition of the vision of Ezekiel and
of the vision of St Gregory ; of the book of the merchant* ; of
(pseudo-)Dionysiu3 (the Arcopagite) ; and of the capita scienlise or
beads of knowledge (of Kvagrius) ; besides epistles on the exalted
character of the monastic life. Joseph appears to have been made
a bishop in his latter days, and to have taken the name of 'Abhd-
Isiio' ; at least a IIS. in the India Office (No. 9) contains a tract
on Zech. iv. 10 (f 241b), and three series of questions addressed
by a pupil to his teacher, by ."Mar "Abhd-isho', who is Joseph
Hazzaya " (f. 293a).'
The successor of Ezekiel as catholicus of the Nestorians was
Isho'-yabh of Arzon, 581-595.' He was a native of Beth 'Arbaye,
educated at Nisibis under Abraham (see above, p. 836), and subse-
quently made bishop of Arzou (' kp^ai/Ttvi]). He managed to in-
;;ratiate liimself with the Persian monarch Honuizd IV. ( 579-590),
by \diose influence he was raised to the archiepiscopate ; and he
continued to stand in favour with liis son and successor Khosrau
II. Parwez, as well as with the Greek emperor JIaurice. Doubtless
both found the Christian archbishop a convenient ambassador and
agent in public and private affairs, for Maurice had given his
daughter Maria in marriage to Khosrau.' He was also a friend of
the Arab king of Ilerta (al-Hii-ali), Abu Kabus Nu'man ibn aU
Mnndhir, who had been converted to Christianity, with his sons,
by Sinieon, bishop of Herta, Sabhr-isho', bishop of Lashom, and the
monk Isho'-zeklia."' On a pastoral visit to this part of his diocese,
the catholicus was taken ill, and died in the convent of Hind (the
daughter of Nu'man) at al-Hirah. Among his works are men-
tioned^^ a treatise against Eunomius, one against a heretical (Mono-
physite) bishop who had entered into argument with him, twenty-
two questions regarding the sacraments of tho church,'- an
apology,'** and synodical canons and epistles,
jifshiha- Mesluha-zekha,_ also called Isho'-zekha or Zekha-isho', was a
ej^kha. monk of Mount Izla. '* When many of his brotherhood were ex-
Eelled from their convent by Babhai the archimandrite,'^ he betook
imself to the district of Dasen,'* and founded there a monaster}',
which was henceforth known as Beth Babbaa Zekha-isho' or, for
shortness' sake, Beth Eabban simply." He was the author of an
ecclesiastical history, which 'Abdh-isho' praises as being "exact."
Liadh Dadh-isho' was the successor of Abraham of Kashkar as abbot
(ih» of the great convent on Mount Izla," apparently during the life-
time of the latter, who lived to a great age (see above p. 837)."
He composed a treatise on the monastic lifo and another entitled
On Silence in Body and in Spirit, a discourse on the consecra-
tion of the cell, besides funeral sermons and epistles. He also
translated or edited a commentary on The Paradise of the IVestern
Monks (probably meaning the Paradise of Palladius and Jerome),
and annotated the works of Isaiah of Scete.'"
Hereabout too is the date of the monk Bar-'idta,"' the founder of
the convent which bear3_ his name,- a contemporary of Babhai of
Izla and Jacob of Beth 'Abhe.^ He was the author of a monastic
history, which is often quoted by Thomas of Marga,"-* and seems to
1 The fir^ Friday after Pentecost or Whitsunday, with reference to Acts iii. 6.
« See B.O., ii. 413. 3 ibid., iii. 1, s-l, note 3.
4 /feirf., iii. 1, 100 ; Hoffmann, Jrtsnigc, p. 117. Asseinani confoonds Joseph
Ijazzaya with the older Joseph Huiaya, and translates Hazzaya by " videns "
instead of " Hazzaus."
» £.y., his letters to Joseph of Hazza, £.0., iii. 1,97, and the ttsat De Uniont,
ib., M.
. 6 According to Asscmani, B.O., iii. 1, 102, note 4, of Isaiah of Scete, who,
According to Palladius, was originally a merchant.
7 See Hoffmann, Ausziige, p. 117, note 1057.
8 B.O.,ii. 415, iii. 1,108; Bar-Hebra£us, C7ir(m. arfes., ii. 105, note 3 ; Noldekc,
Crsch. d. Perser u. Araher, p. 347, note 1.
9 See NoIdel<e, op, cit., p. 2S3, note 2, and comp. p. 287, note 2.
'0 Bar-Hebrffius {Chron. Ecdcs., ii. 105) tries to make out that Nu'man was a
Monophysite, and that isho'-yabli was trying to pervert liim at the time of his
death. But in such matters he is hardly a trustworthy witness.
" B.O., iii. 1, lOS.
12 See a specimen in Assem-mi's Catal. of the Vatican Library, iii. 2S0, No. cl., v.
13 Probably a defence of his doctrines addressed to the emperor Maurice ;
see B.O., iii. ], 109, in the note.
'■• B.O., iii. 1, 216, note 1. See above, p. S36, note 26.
IS Ilnd., iii. 1, 88-89. 16 HoRmann, Ausziige, p. 202 sq.
17 B.O., iii. 1, 216 note 1, 255 in the note ; Hoffmann, Ausiiige, p. 20£ii
18 D.O., iii. 1, 98, note 1. 19 noffmann, Ausziige, p. 173.
»i> AO., iii. 1. 99. 21 TIM., ii. 415, col. 2. Pronounce Car-'ittx
« B.O., iii. 2, dccclxxix.; Holfmann, Ausziige, p. 181.
I Comp. Wriglit, Catal, p. 187, No. 152,
^l B.O., iii. 1, 453, 4SS, 471.
have been a work of considerable value. He must be distinguished
fiom a later Bar-'idta, of the convent of Selibha, near the village of
Heghla on the Tigris," with whom Assemani has confounded him.**,'
In the £il)l. Orient., iii. 1, 230, 'Abhd-isho' mentions an historian
whose name is given by Assemani as Simeon Karkhaya, with the
additional information that he was bishop of Karkhaand flourished*-
under the patriarch Timothy I. about 800. His name seems,
however, to have been ^vrongly read, and he appears to have lived
at a much earlier date. At least Elias bar Shinaya speaks in his
Chranicle"'' of one Simeon Barkaya-' as the author of a chronicle (in
at least two books), who wiote in the reigu'of the Persian king
Khosrau II. Parwez, A. Gr. 902 = 591 A.D.
The name of Sabhr-isho' the catholicus carries us over into the
7th centnry. He was a native of Peroz-ubadh in Beth GarBoai,'
became bishop of Lashom, and was raised to the archiepiscopatain
596 by the favour of Khosrau II. Parwez.^ On the murder of his
father-in-law JIaurice (November 602), Khosrau resolved upon war,
and took the field in 604, when he besieged and captured the
fortress of Dira, the first great success in a fearful struggle of
twenty-five years. Bar-HebrKus states that Sabhr-isho' accom-
panied hira and died during the siege'"; but other authorities say,
doubtless more coiTectly, that he died at Nisibis.^' He is said to
have been the author of an ecclesiastical history, of which a fiag-
ment, relating to the emperor Maurice, was supposed to be extant
in Cod. Vat. clxxxiii. ; but Guidi has shown that this is incoirect,
and that the said fragment is merely an extract from a legendary
life of Sabhr-isho' by soi"e later hand (Z.D.M.G., xl., pp. 559-561).''
About the same time with Sabhr-isho', if Assemani be right,'' we Bimeon
may place Simeon of Beth Garmai, who translated into Syriac the of Beth
Chronicle of Eusebius. This version seems unfortunately to be Garmai.
entirely lost. ^
With the 7th century begins the slow decay of the native litera- Period ol
ture of the Syrians, to which the frightful sufferings of the people Giicco-
during the great war with the Persians in its first quarter largely Persian
contributed.'* During all those years we meet with scarcely a W^r.
nam^of any note in letters, more especially in western Syria. Paul
of Telia and Thomas of Harkel were, it is true, labouring at the\
revised versions of the Old and New Testaments in Alexandria,"
but even there they were scared by the Persian hosts, who took
possession of the city in 615 or 616, shortly after the capture of
Jernsalem by another army in 614." A third diligent worker under
the same adverse circumstances was the abbot Paul, who fled from Abbot
his convent in Syria to escape the Persian invasion, and took refuge Paul,
in the island of Cyprus. Here he occupied himself with rendering
into Syriac the works of Gregory Nazianzen." Of this version,
which was completed in t^vo volumes in 624, there are several old
MSS. in the British Museum." This Paul was also the translator
of the Octoechus of Severus, of which there is a MS. in the British
Museum, Add. 17134, dated 675.'^ To this collection he him-
self contributed a hymn on the holy chrism and a translation of
the " Gloria in excelsis. "
The name of Maratha*" is the first that deserves mention here, Marfrth*
more, however, on account of his ecclesiastical weight and position °,f T^^^'
than his literary merit. He was a native of Shurzak (?), a village ''' '
in the diocese of Beth Nuhadhre,^' was ordained priest in the con-
vent of Nardus, lived for twenty years in the convent of Zakkai or
Zacchaeus at Callinicus (ar-Kakkah), and went thence to Edessa
for purposes of study. On returning to the East, he resided in the
convent of Mar Matthew at Jlosul, where he occupied himself with
remodelling its rules and orders. He sided with the Monophysite
party at the Persian court, and, after the death of the physician
Gabriel,*^ found jt advisable to retire to 'Akola (al-Kufah).*' He
was elevated to the dignity of metropolitan bishop of Taghrith in
640, after the establishment of peace between the Greeks and
25 See Hoffmann, Ausziige, p. 181, note 1414.
26 B.O., iii. 1, 458. 27 See Boseu, Calal., p. 88, col. 1, 2.
23 The difference in writing between 1^5 iO and^^^iO is not great. Tlie *
pronunciation of the word |^Oi^ is not quite certain.
29 B.O., ii. 415, iii. 1, 441 sq.; Baethgen, Fragmente syr. «. arab. Bistoriker,
pp. 36, 119. 30 enroll. &c(cs., ii. 107.
3' Chron, Eccles., lac. cit., note 2 ; B.O., iii. 1, 441, col. 1.
'2 Assemani, Calal., iii. 387. 33 B.O., iii. 1, 168. 633.
■4 See the remarl^s of Noldeke in GescTu d. Perser ?(. Araber, p. 299, note 4.
" See above, p. 825. Thomas of Harkel also compiled a liturgy (B.O., iL 92,
col. 1), and is said to have translated from Greek into Syriac five otlier liturgie*
(ibid., col. 2), \iz., those of Gregory Nazianzen, Basil, Gregory Nyssen, Diony-
sius the Areopagite, and John Chrysostom.
36 See Noldeke, Gesch. d. Perser u. Araber, pp. 291-292 ; Chronique de Michel
Ic Grand, p. 222 ; Bar-Hebraeus, Chron. St/r., p. 99.
37 See B.O., i. 171 ; iii. 1, 23.
33 See the fine series of MSS. described in Wright's Catal., pp. 423-435. One
of these is dated 790, another 845. Two other MSS. (ibid., pp. 436-438) s^iB
to contain part of the older version of the Nestorians (CO., iii. 1, 24, note 1).
39 Wright, Catal., p. 330 sq. The translator is wrongly described in the
codex as " bishop of Edessa" (see above, p. 834, note 15). His convent wa*
probably that of Ken-neshre, of which both Jolm bar Aphtouya (see abovtv
p. 833) and John Psaltes or Calligraphus were abbots. Compare IS.O., ii. 54.
«» B.O., ii. 416, 41S.
41 See Hoffmann, Aus^ge, pp. 208-216, but especially p. 215.
42 See above, p. 837.
43 B3r-Hebra;us, Chron. Eccles., ii. Ill ; B.O., ii. 410.
SYRIAC LITERATURE
7th (-EXT.J
Persians,' r.nd was th» first real raaphrian (inaphrSyana) and
cr!?anizer of the Jacobite Chnrch in the Ea'^t, whicii so rapidly in-
criased in numbers and inlluence that ho was called upon to ordain
bishops for such remote regions ns Segestan (Sistin) and Harew
(Herat). Warutha died in 649. His life was written by his sue
««8or Denhi.^ Jlarutha compiled a liturgy and wrote a corameut-
ary on the Gospels, both of which are sometimes wrongly assigned
to the elder Jlarutha of JIaiperkat.» He was also the author of
short discourses on New (or Low) Sunday, and on the consecration
of the'water on the eve of the Epiphany, as well as of some hymns
and sedras.* , , . . . ^i
Contemporary with MaruthS, under the patriarch Athanasms
Camm.-ila (died'in 631 ») and his successor John, flourished bcverus
Seb'4-ht » of Nisibis ' bishop of the convent of Kea-nc.iJnc, at this
time one of the chief seats of Greek learning in westen: Syria. He
devoted himself, as might be expected, to philosophical and mathe-
matical as weir as theological studies.' Of the first we have speci-
mens in his treatise on the syllogisms in the Anahjtica Pnora ot
Aristotle, his coraraentaiy on the Hep! epiiiivdas, and his etters to
the priest Aitilaha of Mosul on certain terms in the Uipi ^p/iij^e.cts,
and to the periodoutes Yaunan or Jonas on some points in the logic
of Aristotle.'*' Of his astronomical and geographical studies there
aie a few examples in- Brit. Mus. Add. 14538, ff. 153-15o," such as
whether the heaven surrounds the earth in the form of a wheel or
sphere, on the habitable and uninhabitable portions of the earth, on
tiie measnrement of the heaven and the earth and the space between
ti.era, and on the motions of thi- sun and moon.'- In the Koyal
Library at Berlin there is a diort treatise of his on the astrolabe.
Jlore or less theological in their nature are his letter to the priest
and periodeutes Basil of Cyprus, on the 14th of J.is»n, A. Gr. 9/b
(G65 A.D.)," a treatise on the weeks of Daniel," and letters to Serguis,
abbot of Shiggar (Sinjar), on two discourses of Gregory Lazianzen. '
He is also said to have drawn up a liturgy."
John I., Jacobite patriarch of Antioch, was called Irom the con-
vent of Eusebhona at Tell-'Adda to the archiepiseopal throne m
631, and died in December 643. '« Bar-Hebrrcus tells ns that ho
translated the Gospels into Arabic at the command of the Arab
tmir 'Amr ibn Sa'd. He is better known as the author of numer-
ous sedras and other prayers, whence he is commonly called Yohan-
nan de-sedhrau(hi), or "John of the Sedras." He also drew up a
.liturgy. ^^
During the second quarter of this century, from 633 to 636, the
Muhammadan conquest of Syria took place. The petty Arab king-
doms of the Lakhmites (al-Hirah), the Tha'labites and kmdites,
and the Ghassanites, as well as the wandering tribes of Jlesopotamia,
were absorbed ; aud the Persians were beaten back into their own
country, quickly to be overrun in its turn. The year 633 witnessed
the last effort of the Greek empire to wrest Syria from the invaders ;
the Muslim yoke was no longer to be shaken off. The effects of
this conquest soon begin to make themselves manifest in the htera-
tuie of the country. The more the Arabic language comes into
use, the more the Syriac wanes and wastes away; the more Muham-
madan literature flourishes, the more purely Christian literature
pines and dwindles ; so that from this time on it becomes necessary
to compile grammars and dictionaries of the old Syriac tongue, and
to note and record the correct reading and pronunciation of words
in the Scriptures and other books, in order that the uuderstaiid-
,ing of them may not be lost.
Among the small band of Monophysite scholars who made them-
selves conspicuous during the latter half of the 7th century the
.most famous name is that of Jacob of Edeasa.^" Ho was a native
of 'En-debha (the Wolfs well), a village in the district of Gumyah
(al-Jumah), in the province of Antioch. The date of his birth is
not mentioned, but it may have been about 640 or a little earlier.-'
He studied under Severus Sebokht at the famous convent of Ken-
neshre, where ho learned Greek and the accurate reading of the
83S
1 The circumstances ore given in detail by Bar-Eebraus (CTiron. Eala., IL 119
t(!.)ancl A8semani(i!.0., ii. 419).
^ a See Brit. Mus. Add. 14CI5, f. 19Sa (Wright. Catal.. p. 1113).
> Bee above, p. 829. From tlie commentary are taken the passages quoted
tn the CaUim of Severus. See Assemani, Cutoi., iil. 11 (on Exod., xv. 25), 24,
"f s^e'^Hi. mL"'.- AS;i"m27, f. 140a ; 17207, f. IVb ; 172.M, f. 104a ; 1712S, f 91b
6 According to Bar-UcbrKU», Chron. Ecdta., 1. 275 J B.O., II. S84. Diouyaius of
"e OiUha Persian name .9»o)tW sea KSWckc, Ccsch. da ArlachStr iP/ivakdn, Iq
leUriiae :. Kunih d. in'iojcm. Spraeftni, iv. 49, note 4; Gesi-h.d. Purser M.
irabcr, p. 390, note 1. ' Sco WriRht, CiUal., p. 008, col. 1.
■ e See h.O., il. 335 ; Bar-ricbrmuB, Chron. Kala., 1. 275.
e Compare Kenan, Dc rhihtt. PeHpnt.ap.S,iros VV- 29 30.
10 3co Brit. Mua. Arid. 14600 and 17150 (WriRht. CalM., pp. 1160-03), and tl»«
Catal. of the Royal Library of Berlin Sacliau 22ii, 0 9.
" Wright, Cotol., p. 1008. " See Sachau. intd. Sur.,XT- 127-134.
" AllcT Bcstancl 87, 2 (Kurza rerxHchnhs, p. 32). " Same MS., 8.
15 Wright, Catal.. pi 968, col. 2. '« Ibid. p. 432, col. 2. " B.O.. II. 403
13 BarUebncus, Ckron. Eccks., 1. 275 ; fl.O., 11. 335. But Dlony»lu9 of Tell-
Mahrii savs 050- B.O.. I. 425. '" Berlin, Sachau 185, 6.
'^SJ Bar^lfobr^'us, Hr«;. M«., I. 289 : B.O.. 1. 408, il. 335 AsRcrn.n trie,
imrd in vol. i. to prove that he was not a Slonnphymte (p. 470 "I-} ^•"^•"1°'-
«. 337 he gives up the attempt in despair. Compare Lamy, D,siei I. dc Sj/rorum
Fide, tec, p. 200 sq. , ., , ^_
ai '(ne dateo Riven In D.O., I. 409. seem to bo utterly wrong.
Scriptures. Thence he went to Alexandria, but we are not told
how long he remained Ihere. Aftei his return to Syria he was
appointed bishop of Edessa in 679-680-; but Bar-Hebraus says
thai ne was ordained by the patriarch Athana^ius II., 684-087,
which seems more probable, as they were intimate friends. If ho
was appointed in 684. the three or four years for which he held
this olHce would terminate in CS7-68S, in which latter year Julian
RomSya (or "the Soldier")^ was elected patriarch. Apparently
Jacob'waa very strict in the enforcement of canonical rules, and
thereby offended a poitiou of his clergy. He would seem to have
appealed to the patriarch and his fellow-bishops, who were in
favour of temporizing ; whereupon Jacob burnt a copy of the rules
before the gate of Julian's convent, at the same time crying aloud,
" I burn with fire as superfiuous and useless the canons which yc
trample under foot and heed not." He then betook himself to
the convent at Kaisum, a town near Samosiita, and Habbibh
was appointed to Edessa in his stead. After a while the monks
of Eusebhona. invited Jacob to their convent, and there he taught
for eleven years the Psalms and the reading of the Scriptures in
Greek, the study of which language had fallen into desuetude.
0\i-ina- to disputes with some of tlis brethren "who hated the
Greek's," he left this house and went to the great convent at Tell-
'Adda, where he worked for nine years more at his revised version
of the Old Testament. =* On the death of Habbibh Jacob was re-
called to Edossa, where he resided for four months, at the end of
which time he returned to Tell-'Adda to fetch his. library and
pupils, but died there on 5th June 70S." In the literature of his
country Jacob holds much the samo place as Jerome among the
Latin fathers. He was. for his time, a man of great culture ami
wide reading, being familiar with Greek and with older Syriac
writers. Of Hebrew he probably understood very little, but he
was always readv, like Aphraates, to avail himself of the aid of
Jewish scholars,'wliose opinion he often cites. He appeare before
us as at once theologian, historian, philosopher, and grammannn,
as a translator of various Greek works, and as the indcjaligable
correspondent of many stiidcnts wbo sought his advice and assist-
ance from far and near. As a theologian, Jacob wrote commentaries
on the Old and New Testaments, which are cited by later authors,
such as Diouysius bar Salibi=« and Bar-Hebrreus, as well as in tlie
laiT'e Catena of the monk Severus-', further, scholia on the whole
Scriptures, of which specimens may be found in S. Ephraani Opera
SyrJ^ and in Phillips's Scholia on some Pas-mgcs of the Old Testament
(1864).-' • His discourses on the six days of creation are extant at
Leyden and Lyons.^" This was his latest work, being unfinished at
the time of his death ; it was completed by his fiieud George, bishop
of the Arab tribes. Like many other doctors of the Synan Church,
Jacob drew up an anaphora or liturgy," and revised the liturgy of St
James, the brother of our Lord.^s He also composed orders of bap-
tism 23 of the consecration of the water on the eve of the Epiphany,-
and of the solemnization of matrimony," with which we may con-
nect his translation of the order of baptism of Severus^s and the tract
upon the forbidden degrees of affinity .=' The Book of frcasurcs'^
Contained expositions J the Eucharistic service, of the con.scci-ation
of the water, and of the rite of baptism, nrobab y idontical with or
similar to those which are found separately m MSS." He likewise
arranged the horologium or canonical hours of the ferial days, an.
drew up a calendar of feasts and saints' days for the whole year.
Of his n imerous canons,-- those addressed to the priest Addai have
been edited by Lamy, Dissert, dc Syronim Fide, &c., p. 98 a/
and'De Lagarde, J.'eliquiie Juris Ecclcs. Anligiussum, f.Ui sq.
K According to thoeaIcuialionofDi«nysiu6orTeI12l^^..reii7ys,o«0,L 420.
!3 So called because ho had In bis younger d_nj™ iwnjcU along^wlUi liU faUicr
'".^iSng toSonysius of Tell-Jlahrf, B.O.. i. «G,T.o. 7iorbut Eliaahar
ShhuVi connnns the earlier date. See Bactbgen, rn>gmr,Uc s.jr. «. arab. 11^-
87 B.O., 1. 187-483; Cod. Vat. clll. (Catal., lu. 7) ; Brit. «' »• '^'f' •, '-L;' V.\',5ch'
Catal., p. 903). The former MS. contains a brief oxpo,lt,o,j^of the rc..'"'u ch.
^^ r ^?it:'i;\^"S.'s- ^ n& t^!cu ■. c^^^^-^-v^-
S"W?,Sfe ?t^^<sier:^^^r;'«^^ir^4::;r:(
S,r., 1. 2-4) , I.jons, ^o. . (SCO ncuoauti ^^^ , ^ 1,^1
lillcraircs, 3 scr., vol. i. p. 508, laris, 18ii). '".'^i, i. i. „ii„,i in iiriL Mii«.
lilliraires, 3 scr., vol. i. p. 508, laris, lo.-v '",'•„■"";.' i,'.|ied In UriL «"«
S |^;^;;;^or., Cata,., pp. OO.^!^"^- '^^'^t ^o.. Cata^ p. 01. CO.. 2.
I 'it r Sa^iieSiil^: SiXu 21. 4 .„.,r^. ;i ^ 'o^.^ 0..r^
Of S-Tfl-i,) ; Brit Mu,. Add 144'.0 f. .0 M. ^!^-,i,;' inJI'Ti:™"; ;
cxpnsit,,,,, od ted by A»»^"nnl (; 1.0., I. • , ,,^^ ^1^,^ ,.,_, y,,
comp. Brit. Mu». Add. Ii2l5, r. .'3b. IIM -. , ... .,,,.,
cccv.,ln Mar, Scri;)«. CtH. WoiaColf.. v. H-
141!iO, f. SSb {« more frat'incnt). « Brit. Mu«. A
Uorlii
11 Si-o Catul. Val., II. 250-272; and comn.
3 S.rp also Knyiwr, Dit Cmonti Jacohi wn A.
turn Tl-.cit Huch sutisl Im Crunill«t wriiftnliieM. IBo.'.
■ i.rl.
840
SYRIAC LITERATURE
[7th cent.
Tender tins licail v:e m-dy meutiun tl'e Scholion dc Biacmiissis
earionquc Muncrc {Caial. Vat., ii. 319) and the Scliolion dc Fori-
bus Ecdcsiaz duni Ordinationes aiit al'"- Sacra cehhrantttr occliid-cn-
dis (Cod. Vat. ccciv., in Mai, ScripU. Vctt. Nova Coll., v.). Jacob
also composed liomilies, of wliich a few survive in manuscript :
for pxauiple — (1) th'at Cluistians are not to offer a lamb after the
Jewish fashion, nor oxen and sheep, ou behalf of the deceased,
nor to use pare wine and unleavened bread in celebrating the
Eucharist ; (2) against the use of unleavened bread ; (3) against
the Armenians as Dyophysitcs, and because they offend against
these doctrines ' ; (4) against certain impious men and transgressors
of the law of God, who trample under foot the canons of the church.-'
To tliese may be added his metrical discourses on the Trinity and
the incarnation of the -word ^ and on the faith against the Nes-
torians:* Whether the treatise Dc Causa omnium' Cansanim^
really belongs to him can hardly be decided till it has been published.
The remarks in the Bodleian Catalogue, p. 6S5, note, point to a
writer Of much later date. The loss of Jacob's Chronicle is greatly
to be regretted ; only a few le.ives, all more or less mutilated,
remain to us in Brit. Mus. Add. 14685.* The author's design was
to continue the Chronicle of Eusebius on the same plan, from the
twentieth year of the reign of Constantine down to his own time.
The introduction was divided into Jour sections, the first of which
treated of the canon of Eusebius and the error of three years in his
calculation ; the second of the dynasties contemporary with the
Roman empire, but omitted by Eusebius ; the third explained what
dynasties were coordinated by Jacob with tlie Roman empire ; and
the fourth contained separate chronologies of each of these dynasties.
Then followed the chronological canon, beginning with Olympiad
cclxxvi. The last monarchs mentioned in the mutilated 5lS. are
Heraclius I. of Constantinople, Ardasher III. of Persia, and tlie
caliph Abu Bakr. This work, which was finished by the author
in 692,' has been extensively used by subsequent Syrian historians,
both Jacobite and Nestorian, such as Bar-Hebraus,^ Elias bar
Shinaya,' kc, and it is therefore admitted by 'Abhd-isbo" into his
list of books {B.O., iii. 1, 229). As a translator of Greek works
Jacob deserves notice; not so much on account of any Aristotelian
labours of his,'" as because of his version of tlie Homilim Cathcdralcs
of Severus, a work of capital importante, which he finished in 701."
He also revised and corrected, with the help of Greek MSS., the
abbot Paul's version of the Ocloechus of Severus (see above, p. 838).'-
The statement of Bar-Hebrteus'^ that Jacob translated the wbiiis of
Gregory Naziauzen seems to be erroneous. He merely retouched,
we believe, the version of the abbot Paul (see above, p. S3S), to which
he probably added notes, illustrative extracts from the writings of
Severus, and Athanasius's redaction of the Hwayuyri Kal ^)J7t;(Tis
IffToptuJv appended to the homily In Sancta Lumina.^* He made
the Syriac version of the liistory of the Rechabites as narrated by
Zosimus, which he is said to have translated from Hebrew into
Greek and thence into Syriac.'' ■ Of philosophical writings of his
we may specify the Enchiridion, a tract on philosophical terms.'*
The metriciil composition on the same subject contained in two
Vatican MSS. may perhaps also be by him.''" As a grammarian
Jacob occupies an important place in Syriac literature. Nestorian
scholars, such as Narsai and his pupils, more especially Joseph
HOzaya (see above, p. 836), had no doubt elaborated a system of
atcentuation and interpunction, which vies in minuteness with that
of the Jews, and had probably begun to store up the results of their
studies in Massoretic MSS. of the Bible, like those of which we liava
already spoken (above, p. 826). . But Jacob was the first to give a
decided impulse to these pursuits among the Western Syrians, and
to induce the monks of Eusebhona and Tell-'Adda to compile
Massoretic JISS. like those of their brethren in the East, and to pay
attention to minute accuracy in the matter of the diacritical points
and the signs of interpunction. Hince-we usually find ajipended
to such MS5. of the Jacobite schools the epistle of Jacob to George,
1 See Bibl. Med. Lanrent. et Palat. Cadd. MSS. Orieatl. Cutai, pp. 107-lOS.
- Wright, Catal., pp. 984, col. 2 ; 996, col. 2.
3 Catal. Vat., ii. 516. 4 ]Ud., iii. 353.
5 See B 0., 1. 461-463. Besides the MS. described bv Assemani, there are two
in the Bodlei m Lilirary, Hunt. 123 (Piyne Smith, Culal., 5S5) and Codl. Or.
V33, and a third at Ueilin, Sachau 180, Avitli :ui excerpt in Sachau 203.
« See Wright, Catal., p. 1062.
' See Elias bar Sllinaya in Rosen, Catal., p. 88, col. 1. 8 B.O., ii. 313-314.
9 See, for example, the notes in Abbeloos, Bar.ffebrseiChron. Eccles., ii.65, 103,
107. 123 : Bactiigen, FratjmeiLte stjr. v.. arab. Historiker, extracted iroiii Elias bar
Shinaya, p. 3: and the anonymons epiiomizer in Land, Anud. Sur., i. 2-22,
tr.insl. pp. 103-121 (Bril Mus. Add. 14643 ; Wiight, Cndii., p. 1040).
10 Even -the translation of the Categories in Cod. Vat. clviii. (Catal., iii. 306*;
comp. Renan, De Pkihs. Peripat. ap. Syros, p. 34) is not by him, but by Sergius
of Ras'aih (see above, p. 831). .
" Sec B.O., i. 494 ; Cod. Vat. cxli.; Brit. Mns. Add.-12159, dated 803 (Wright,
Catal., p. 534 $1 ).
12 B.O , i. 487 ; Cod. Vat. xciv.. written between 1010 and 1033; Brit. Mus.
^dd. 1"134, dated 675 (Wright, Catal. , p. 330 sq.).
'3 B.O., ii. 307, col. 2 ; i'ii. 1, 23, col. 1.
14 See Wright. Catal., pp. 423-427. 15 nW., p. 1128. 16 'ibid., p. 984.
" Cod. Vat. xxxvi. and xcv. (Catal., ii. 243 and 510). In the latter there are
three other poems ascrihed to him, the first theological, the second with the
title De PhilosipkU et ISanis Artibns, and the thirrl c ntilled On the Mind. In
the MSS. these poemsaresaid to be by Jacobof Serfigh, which seems altogether
anlikely.
bishop of Scrugh, on Syrian orthography," and a tract by him on
the pointing of verbal and nominal forms and on the signs of
interpunction and accentuation, besides a tract of apparently
earlier date on the same signs, with a list of their names, by
Thomas the deacon." Further, Jacob's acquaintance with the
Greek language and Greek MSS. suggested to him a striking simpli-
fication of the system of vowel -points which wa's now prbbably
beginning to be introduced among the Easterns.-" He saw that all
the vowel-sounds of the Syriac language, as spoken by the EJcsscnes,
could be represented by means of the Greek vowel letters, a stylo
of pointing which would be far clearer to the reader than a series
of minute dots. Accordingly he, or his school, put A for a, 0 for o
(a), e for 0, H for ?', oy for u ; and this system has been adhered to
by the"\Vestern Syrians or Jacobites since his time.-' Jacob wished,
however, to go a .step farther, and sought to introduce a reform for
which his countrynien were not prepared. The constant perusal
of Greek MSS. had accustomed him to see the vowels placed on an
equality with the consonants as an integral part of the alphabet ;
and, considering how much this 'conti'ibuted to clearness of senso
and facility of reading, he desired to see the like done in Syriac.
For this purpose he himself designed a set of vowel-signs, to bo
written on a line with and between the consonants-,- ; and for the
purpose of making this invention known to his countrymen he
wrote a Syriac Grammar,-^ in which he used tliem largely in the
paradigms. The innovation, however, found no favour, And tho
work was supposed to be utterly losrt, until a few fragments (p,irtly
palimpsest) were simultaneously discovered by the present writer
and Dr Neubauer.-' Finally, amid all his labours as priest and
bishop, teacher and author, Jacob found time to correspond
with a larga number of persons in all parts of Syria ; and these
epistles are often among liis most interesting writings.-' One of
his principal correspondents was John the Stylite of the convent
ef Litarba (Alrap^a jilur., but also Alrapyo:', Avrnpyov ; al-Atharib,
near Aleppo) ; others were Eustathius of Dar.a, Kyrisonii of Dara,
the priest Abraham, the deacon George, and the sculptor Thomas.^*
To the priest Addai he wrote on the orders of baptism and the
consecration of the water, ^' to the deacon Bar-hadh-be-shabba
against the council of Chalcedon,-^ to the priest Baul of Antioch
on the Syriac alphabet, in reply to a letter about the defects of
the said alphabet as compared with the Greek,-' and to George,
bishop of SOiugh, on Syriac orthogi-aphy (see above).
After Jacob we may name his friend Athanasius of Balad, whoAtbaua
also studied under Severus Sebokht at Ken-neshre, and devoted siu^ II
himself to the translation of Greek works, philosophical and theo-
logical, in the convent of Mar Malchus in fur 'Abhdin or at Nisibis,
where he for a time ofliciated as priest. He was advanced to the
patiiarchato in 684 and sat till 687 or 68S.™ In the year 645 he
translated the Isn'gocje of Porphyry, 'with an introduction, which
seems to be chiefly derived from the preface of the Greek comment-
ator Ammonius^' ; and ho also edited a version of an anonymous
18 See B.O., i. 477 (N'o. C) and p. 478 (No. 8).
19 See, forex^imple, Ta/al.. Tat., iii. 290; Brit. Mus., Rosen, pp. 69, TO (Wright,
p. 110) ; -Paris, ;!otenberg, 'Calat., p. 30. Tlie letter and tracts have been pub-
lished by Phillips, ^1 Letter by Mar Jacob, Bishop )f Edcssa, on Syriac Orthography,
&c. (1S69 ; tlie thii'd Appendix, pp. 85-96, 1870), and Martin, Jacobl epi Eileiseni
Epislola ad Gcnrginm cp»wi Sanigenscm de Orthoqraphia Syriacit (1^69). On the
possible identity of Thomas the deacon with Thomas of Harljel, see Phillips,
third Appendix, p. 90.
20 In tlic year 899 we find the fully developed Nestorian system of vowel-points
.in -use (Brit. Mus. Add. 1213S, see the facsimile in Wrif^hfs Ca(a/.,'pl. xiii.).
We maytlierefore fairly place its beginnings as early as Jacob's time.
21 Tlie CTedit of inventing this vowel-system is usually given to Theophilus
of Edessa, who died in 7SJ-7s0 (B.O., i- 64, 521^, though Wiseman brought for-
ward to our mind con\'ilicing arguments in his Boras Syriacx, pp. 181-188, iB
■ f.ivour of the claims of Jacob. We have now, however, a MS. of Jacob's own
time in which these Greek vowels are distinctly appended to Syriac words;
See Brit'. .Mus. Add. 17134, f. E3b, in Wright's Catal, p. 337, col. 2, and pi. vi.
In this plate, the handwriting of which caunot well be placed later than about
700, we find in 1. 1 the vowel ^ (ypsilon) in the word |l\^0|0, a»d ia L
23 the vowel ^ in , '^■N^P, both in black ink. besides otlurrs in red ink
in lines fi, 17, 18,21,22, and 31. No one can doubt, we think, that tliese vowels
were added a pr. vumii, especially if he compares their forms, particularly the
a, Avith those of the Greek letters on the margin of pi. v.
2'- See Bar-Hcbneus in his Kethdbhd dhi-^emhe, as quoted by Martin, Jacques
d'r'jiesse et tes yoyeltcs Syriennes (Jonrn. Asial., 1869, vol. xiii. pp. 458-459), or pp.
194-195 of Martin's edition. Jacob had already before him tlie example of the
Mandaites, fuom whose alphabet his figure of ^ for e appears to be borrowed,
23 B.O.. i. 475, 477.
24 See Urit. .Mus. Add. 17217, IT. 37,38 : 14665, f. 28 ; in Wright's Catal, pp.ll6S-
73. These were reprinted, with the Oxford fragments (Bodl. 159J, by Wrightl
in Fraipnenis Df the l^iSli U^isL^ JQ^or Syriac Grammar of Jamb
of Edessa (IS71).- vj
25 Some ar-e metrical ; see Brit. Mus. Add. 12172, ff. 65a, 73a ; 17163, f. 154a.
26 See all these in Brit. Mus. Add. 12172, ff. 65-135 (Wright, Catal, pp. 592-604).
Thr^ of these letters have been published, two by Wright in the Journal oj
Sacred Literature, new series, X. (1861), p. 430 sq., and one by Schroter in
Z.D.M.n., xxiv. (1870), pp. 261-300.
■ 27 r,.U.,\. 486, No. 11; Brit. Mus. Add. 14715, f. 170a ; see- alsO'Add. 12144, £f
47a. 521). 23 Brit. Mus. Add. 14631, f. 14'o. 20 B.O., i. 477, No. 7.
3" B.O., ii. 335 ; Bar-Hcbra^us, Chron. Eccles., i. 287, 293'. Dionysius of Tell-
Mahre places his death as late as 704.
31 C"d: Vat. clviii.: Paris, Anc. fonds 161. According to Renan, De Philas.
Peripat. up. Syro'j, p. 30, note ^, the MSS. clxxxiii. and cxcvi. of the Jiibl. Palat
Medic, contaiu this translation ^d not that of IBonam.
of Bala<^
S Y R 1 A C LITERATURE
8th CE.NT.j
Isagcne, which is found in Biit. Mu3. Add. 14660.' At the request
of ilatthew, bishop of Aleppo, and Daniel, bishop of Edessa, ho
undertook in 669 a translation of select epistles of Sevcrus of
Antioch, and of these the si.xtb book survives in two MSS." Ho
also busied himself with Gregory Nazianzen, as is evidenced by a
Echolion introductory to the homilies' and the version of the
Zwayuyf) Kol f{^7>)(n5 Iffropiiii'.* The only other writings of his
with which we are acquainted are an encyclical letter, prohibiting
Christians from partaking of the sacrifices of their Muhammadaa
rulers,'' and a couple of scdrfis.'
Contemporary with him, and probably an alumnus of the samo
.school, was the translator of the poems of Gregory Nazianzen, in the
year 655, w-hom Assemani calls Scnorinus Cliididatus of Amid.^
He has. however, misread tlie name. la the JIS., as Professor
Guidi informs us, it stands t.£Da.^f^|.AO ^^Jai^, uot^JQlA.
The former part of the name seems to be 'lavovapio^ ; the latter Is
apparently (as Guidi suggests) a corruption of Ka^Maros. AVhcthcr
tne poems in Brit. JIus. Add. 18821 and 14517' belong to the trans-
lation of Januarius Candidatus or not, we can no tat present determine.
f^oT^c, Anotlier scholar of note at this time is George, bishop of the Arab
r.ohop of tribes, the pupil and friend of Athanasius 11. and Jacob.* He was
' J Arab ordained, it would seem, iu 687 or 688, two months after the death
' •,' Athanasius, and is said to have died in the first year of Athanasius
III., who was consecrated in April 724. His diocese comprised the
"Akol.iye or Arabs of 'Akol'i (al-Kufah), the Tu'aye {?), the Tanukh,
the Thi'labiles, tho Taghlibites, and in general the nomad Arabs of
Mesopotamia. Of his works the most important is his translation of
the Organon of Aristotle, of which there is a volume in the British
Museum, Add. 14659,com prising, iu its imperfect condition, the Ca<c-
gorics, Tlcpl ipfi-rji'iia^, and the first book of the Analylics, divided
into two parts, with introductions and commentaries.^" Of this ver-
sion a specimen has been edited by Hoffmann, Dc Hcrmcncuticis, &c.,
p. 22 sj., besides small fragments at pp. 30, 38, 45, and 53. He also
compiled a large collection of scholia on the homilies of Gregory
Nazianzen, which exhibits a wide range of reading," and completed
the Hexaemeron of Jacob of Edessa (see above, p. 839).'- His other
writings are — acommentary.ormorelikelyscholia, on the Scriptures,
cited in the Catena of Severus and by I5ar-Hebra?us in his Aiisar
Raze '3 ; a short commentary on tho sacraments of the church, treat-
ing of ba-ptism, the holy Eucharist, and tho consecration of the
ehrism'*; a homily iu twelve-syllable metre on tho holy chrism in
two shapes'^; another homily on solitary monks, in heptasyllabic
metre"; and a treatise on the Calendar in twelve-syllable metre,"
cited by Elias bar Shinaya.'* Like Jacob of Edessa, lie carried on an
extensive literary correspondence, of which some specimens have
luckily beeu preserved in Brit. Mus. Add. 12154, ff. 222-291, dated
from 714 to 718. Several of them are addressed to John the Stylite
of Litarba, one of whose letters to Daniel, an Arab priest of tho
tribe of the Tu'aye, is appended, f. 291. The most important of
them is one written to the priest and recluse Yishil' of Inuib (near
'Aziiz, north of Aleppo), part of which relates to Aphraates and his
works (see above, p. 827)."
Contemporary with these scholars was Daniel of Salali (a village
north-east of Jlidyad in Tur-'Abdin),-" who wrote commentaries on
the Psalms and Ecclcsiastes.-' Tho former was in three volumos,
and was composed at the request of John, abbot of the convent of
Euscbius at Kaphri dhe-Bhartha (Kafr al-B."irah, near Apainea).--
841
' Sec Wright, Catah, p. IIGI, and conip. Renan, op. cit., p. 31.
2 Hrit. Mus. Add. 12181 and ll'iOO (Wright, Calal., pp. 6iS-5C9).
8 Wright, Calal., p. ■Ml. * Iliid., p. 425. 5 Zotciibcrg, Calal., p. 28, col. 2.
I> Wnglit, CalaL, p. 218, col. 1 ; Zotcnbcrg, Catal., p. 47, col. 1, No. 23, d.
7 Cod. Vat. xcvi. (Catat.,ii. 521) ; SCO B.O., ii. cxlix., 602, col. 2 I iif. 1, 23, note.
e Wright, Calat., pp. 775, 433, col. ]. >
» B.O.. i. 494 ; Bar-Hobra!us, Chron. Eccks., i. 293, 303 ; Homnann, De Her-
nencutit-is apud Syros Arislolelcis, pp. 148-151 ; Renan, De Phitos. Peripat. ap.
Slffos, pp. 32-33. '» See Wright, Calal., p. 11C3.
" Brit, Mils. Add. 14725, fr.100-215. It was evidently written after tlie death of
Athanasius II., as shown hy the remark on f. 132a OVriglit, Catal., p. 4 13, col. 1).
The CO lentary contained in lirit. Mus. Add. 17197, IT. 1-25 (Wriglit, Calal.,
p. 441) is perhaps tliat of Elias, bishop of Shiggar (Sinjdr), who Hourislied about
»50, and is expressly stated (B.O., ii. 339) to have compiled a coniinentary on
the first volume of Gregory Nazianzen (as translated by Paul). lie followed tho
older exposition of Beninmin, bishop of Edessa. This Benjamin was the writer
^fa letter on the Enclianstic service and baptism (Wright, Calal., p. 1004, CoL 2).
^- Sec Land, AnrcU. Si/r., i. p. 4.
J3 ;;.o., 1. 494-495 ; coinp. Wrlylit, Catal., p. 909, coL 2.
H Wright, Ciital., p. 9S5.
" P.O.. I. S32 : Calal. Vnt.. iii. 102, No. 188 ; Wright, Calal, p. 848, No. 78.
18 P,oJUia\l Calal., p. 425, No. 88. • " B.O, i. 495 ; Calal. Vat., III. 632.
19 Rosoii, Calal., p. SS, Nos. 32, 33 ; comp. also tho "Tabic of tho New Uoona,"
In dial. I'nl.,ii. 402.
1» It has been printed by Do Lnpirdc, Aiinl. Syr., pp. 105134, and partly re.
printed by Wiiglit. The UomiHc/i o/Jphraatcs, pp. 19-37. llyvsel Iioa translated
nnd annotated it iu £in Brief Georgs, Bhcho/t dcr Araher, an il, Prcsbylcr Jesus,
1SS3. -'> Sec Hoirinann in Z.D.M.G., xxxll. 741.
21 According to n note in P^yne Sinilh's Calal., p. 02, ho was bishop of Telhl
dtie ilauzelatli : biilrllt the time when he wrote his coniinentary on the Psnlms
lie was certaiuly only a priest and abbot of a coiivcut(sco Wright, Calal , p.
005. col. 2).
:- J133.— part I., rs».-.l.-»., Brit. 'Mns. Add. 17167; purt II., I'ss. II. .c. Add.
Usi'.V, 1 1005 (onlv llirce leaves) (see Wright. Calal., pp. OOO-COi.) : Cod. Vlt civ.,
Pss. i. IxviU. (Calnl. Vat., iii. 297); part Iii.. P«». cl.-cl., In Arabic, Berlin,
Mclian 55. It l-i fr-'qneiitly Jitcd bv H.ir riebr.TUi In the Aiis/ir itati Iu ScvC"
pu'l cuunn, au>l also by .*j>tauius Ithctor (Wright, C'u'nf., p. S31, col. 1).
There is an abridgement of it in Brit. Mus. Add. 17125, t 81 sq.
The commentary on Ecclcsiastes is known to us only from the
extracts preserved iu Sevcrus's Catena.'^
Rcgarcling George, bishop of Martyropolis,=* we can add little or
nothing to the scanty information collected by Assemani." This
scholar has, however, made a mistake in placing him so early as
" circa annum Christi 580." About a century later would probably
be nearer the mark. Two of his pupils were Constautme, bishoj
of Harr.'in, who may have flourished during the latter part of thr
7th century, and his successor Leo, who lived at the very end of it
and the beginning of the 8th.™ Constantino wrote several contro
versial works against the Monophysites, viz.,— an exposition of tb'
creeds of the councils of Nicaja and Chalcedon, a treatise again!^l
Sevcrus (of Antioch), an "anagiiosticon " concerning an aTlegcJ
mutilation of the Trisagion,^' and a reply to a treatise of Simeon
(II., Monophysite bishop of Hari-in).^ Leo's only literary effort
appears to have been a letter to the Jacobite patriarch Elias, whom
we have next to notice.
Elias belonged originally to the Dyophysite paity in the Syrian
Church, but was converted to the Monophysite sect by the study
of the writings of Severus. He w as a monk of the convent of Gubbi
Barraya, and for eighteen years bishop of Apainea (or Frniyah),
before he was rai.sed to the patriarchate of Antioch (in 709). He
died in 724.=' The only work of his known to us is an Apology,
addressed to Leo, bishop of Harran, in answer to a letter from liim
asking the reasons for Elias's change of creed. ^^ It was probably
written during the time of his episcopate. In it, besides George of
Martyropolis and Constantiue of Harran, he cites John of Damascus,
among whose Greek works is a tract against the Jacobites, addressed
to the bishop Elias in defence of Peter, archbishop of Damtiscus.
Lazarus of Biith Kandasa is known to us only through his dis- La:ari»
ciple George of Beth' Neke as the compiler of a commentary on the cf UC-tl.
New Testament, of which there are two volumes in tho British Kaadasi
JIuseum, the one (Add. 14682) containing the Gospels of St John and
St Mark, the other (Add. 14683) the third and fourth parts of tho
Pauline epistles from Galatians to Hebrews." The commentary on
the epistles is merely an abridgement of Chrysostom ; in that on
the Gospels use is also made of Jacob of Seriigh, and occasionally
of Theodore of Mopsuestia,^- Cyril of Alexandria, and Ephraini.
He also quotes a passage of nine lines from the Sibyllrao oracles
(ed. Eriedlieb, viii. 287-296). At the end of part third of tho
Pauline epistles there is in Add. 14683 a chronological section,
terminating with the accession of tho 'Abbasi caliph al-Mahdi in
775, which probably fixes the date of the author.^ Much later lie
cannot have lived, as Add. 14683 is a JIS. of tho 10th century,
having been presented to tho convent of St Mary Dcipara in Sketo
by tho patriarch Abraham (or Ephraim), who sat from 977 to 981.
In Brit. Mus. Add. 1S295 there is a scholion by Lazarus explana-
tory of a passage iu (pseudo-)Dionysiu3 Areopagita."
About this time too may have lived tho chronicler Daniel bar I'auiei
Moses the Jacobite, who is cited as au authority by Elias bar bar
Shinayi in the years 122, 127, and 131 of tho Hijrah, i.e., from Moses.
740 to 749 A.D.»
Theophilus bar Thomas of Edessa'' is stated by Bar-Hebneus" Tlico-
to have been by religious profession a Maronitc. Ho was addicted philu-
to tho study of astrology, and an anecdote is related by Bar- of
Hcbi.eus of his correspondenco with Hasanah, tho concubine ofEde.s«r
the caliph al-Mahdi, winch fixes the date of his death in 785. Ho
was tho author of a history, which Bar-Hebncus cites" and com-
mends. Ho also translated into Syiiac "tho two books of tho
poet Homer on tho contiuest of tho city of Ilion."" This evi-
dently means a version ol tho entire Iliad and Odyssey, incredible
as it may apijear. De Lagarde was, we believe, the first to discover
citations of this work by Jacob, or Severus, bar Shakko, bishop of
a Calal. Vat., iii. 17 ; WrigliT Cotaf., p. 009.
-4 I.e., Maiperkat or Maiyaf.irikln. Assemani calls him bishop of TofihrlUi or
Te1;nt.
^ B.O., I. 405 ; ii. 90. The cjlistles to Cl\ristopher against Pmhns and John
Graniniaticus of Alexandria, and to the monks of tho convent of itir Matthew,
-lire .ilso cited in Brit. Mus. Add. 17197 (Wright, Catal., p. (107).
-<1 AssCinnni places Constantino as early as CSO and Ixo aliout 640 (B.O., I.
400-407). But m tho Calal. Vat. they are nioro coneclly described u "utcrquo
S. Johannis Damasceni irqualls" (vol. Ill, 255).
^ These three aro mentioned by Asscmaui, B.O., i. 404.
M Wright, Calal., p. 007, col. 2.
-0 B.O., ii. 05, 337 ; Bar-IIebnrnn, CTiron. T.cclei., I. 297 ; Baethgrn, fVaipMnfe,
fip. 40, 123. Dionysiua of TcU-MahrO w rongly jilaces bis death tonio years later
u 729.
*> TwoMSS. of this work allrvlvo, but iKilh imperfect, the one at Itomr, C<«L
Vat e.vlv. (c'.i/u;.,il(. 253), tho oth. r lii llie llnlish Museum, Add. Klv; (Wright
Caliil., p. 000). 31 Sec Wright, Calal., pp. OO8-012.
5.' t^achatl, Theodori Mop». Fra^mettt.t Syr., pp. 101 and 02.
M The wolds of Gem ge of Belli NCWe, Imhhani dhi dhexjni (WriRht. Caleil.,
y. Oil. col. 2), probably refrr l<> the liturgical di»|nil4^a which aritsc among tho
aeuliid'S about tills time (/(. O. li. 341) ami attalmil consldriat>lo iiuporlanco ft
little later (p 313). Seo Bar llcl>ra:ua, C'iron. EccUt., L 331.
M See Wright, Calal., p. 1164.
» See Baethgen, h'ratimevlr. p. 2 ; Bar Ilebraai, Oinn. EeeUt,. II. 15J, Dot« I
a> 110., 1.521 ; Cardlhl, LiIkt The^iun, p. 3ii.
37 lllil. Dunasl., p. SJS (Irausl., p. 147). M Op. ell., p. l)8(lnni)., n. MV
J» Op. ''I., p. 2-'H (lianil., p. HS). AUo at p. 40 (Ininsl., p. In) liar-ilcblirna
says that " the poet Homer bewailed her (fall) In two books, whUli TI.eophllUs
the ostrologcr of Kdessa translated from Oreek Into Syriac"
XXII. — io6
842
Cjriacus.
aiar Matthew, who died in 1241.1 Cardalii IT,'!,^,. ti..,
40) quotes the rendering of Iliad ii 2W Tu ifl o ,f f^.'"""' P-
he found it Theophili is oftenVoken of^'s' t ^fi^f t'o"i?t'=,::
fn 840 3:91 K ^r'^'^'f^T^' '''"^'- ''"' ^^ have seen Ibov
(p. 840, note 21) instances of their occurrence in JISS. older than his
time. Perhaps, however he may have finally sett] d some details
of the system and assisted in bringing it into more general use =
George of Be'elthun, a viUage near Hims, ,vas educated at' the
onvent of Ken-neshre, and became the s .ncellus of Theodore
bishop of Samosata, who prophesied great thin.-s of him On nf^
death of Athanasius III. a^syLd was ^eld at Ma"bb4 ?t th^clo
of 758, when a large ma ority of those present ?aised Geo Te
who was only a deacon, to the see of Antioch. 3 At thelnsti 4 fon
fhri' t^''-P^ ""^."^ David, the caliph al-Mansur scourged hmanS
threw him into prison, where he remained for nine years tTu he
was set free by- his son and successor al-Mahdi. He was taken ill
iTl^T^°{^'' '''°''^'" J°"™^>-^ ^t Kalaudiyah (Claud a)! in the
lar north of Mesopotam a, and died in the rnnv^nf ,,f P,i -
near MeUtene (M^lafyah), in 790.VVJ', //"^ " ^ ^a-^^^m^.
mcnt George IS said to hare composed many dTsfourses ani
tTe'StefoTsrM n^.' ™?.^'=° *''"^-'^"'- "^ ' eonm™raV"n
tlie bospel 01 St Slatthew, the unique but imperfect MS. of which
has been described by Assemani inCcUal. Fat iii 293
• „f \,^7"'5'?'' tJ"^". "*■ Ta,g''rttan family = and a monk of the convent
of Bizona, otherwise called the convent of the Pillar near cllli
Mos^l Tn'sif "tW 1'=''""^^ °.f '^^ J^-l^ifos in 793 'amrdPed at
Sell >:f ^cf '^ 'r^=* ' ,-ion ;ia !uSs, 'A
patuaich was Gabrel, and a creed was drawn up and si.'ned bv
juus Ada. 1/140, 1. 2ib.o Besides an anaphora ' and canons « h^
wro e a homily on the parable of the vinevard » and a sjWical
epistle on the Trinity and the incarnation addressed to Mark
patriarch of Alexandria, which is extant only in Arabic " '
Thenumber of Nestorian writers during the 7th and 8th cen-
turies IS relatively much larger than that o1 Jacobite, ard the loss
of many of their writings is much to be regretted, es^ecUllv those
abo.e n K-iSl ,? A f ^^1"' '"'^ =»"eeded Mar Dadh-isho' (see
^hede'Jb of 1,» fv,°',°^ ''J? great, convent on Mount izl5. On
the death of the catholicus Gregory .of Kashkar in 607 (see above
p. 837 a time of persecution followed, during which the Nestorian
Church was ruled by Babhai with a firm and skilfu] hand The
bishops of Nisibis. Hedhaiyabh, and Karkha dhe-Bctli SJltkh To
vents w-7?'+^ ''''™'*"^ i-"" '""• ""^ -J^ti^^ "f i"^P'=ctor of con'
tZi: Z^ the ".^Press object of rooting out all who held the doc-
trines of the Mc,al,e,jane,^^- as well as the followers of Hannana of
Hedhaiyabh and Joseph of Hazza." go well did he acn^ft Welf
in this post" that, after the murder of Khosrau I fn 628 when
wonldT''''''^^'^''''^-"- ^^''°' P'^™'"^'^ - synod ti be hell ho
would have been unanimously elected to the dignity of catholicus
had he on y given his consent, in default of which the choice fell
upon Isho'-yabh of Gedhala (628-644). As a writer Bibha
would seem to have been very prolific, for no less than Pilbtv t^ 1
or eighty.four works are set dVwn to h-raccoun .1^ The pS^
Jh^Tt'en 7T"f^ "-' 'Abhd-isho', are_a commlntar^ o"n t'?
Vh-°dn Mary andl lo?,;"" *'^%f'"°'^»o'-ations of the Blessed
+V;° I, Y^^ "^"''°' ^"'^ ''*^<='" commemorations and feasts
throughout the year; on the reasons of the celebration of pM
Sunday and of the festival of the holy cro s '« a S ^co^^^e on th™
union of the two natures in our Lord, igainst tl e MonopWsit ) "
of Mark the monk (on the spiritual law)" ; niles for novices canons
for monks ; (controversial) letters to Joseph HazzSvS hi'stn^ of
Diodore of Tarsus and his followers • on M,*^;!,. li^' ^'^'^T °^
Abraham of Nisibis. and Gat\TLtrya'- "To'theLrutrbe
added an account ofJheKIWndmartjom of\^- *.^
SYRIAC LITERATURE
[Tts; 8th CE^T.
Babhai
rite.
1 E.g., Iliad, i. 225, 226- vi 3'>1 • -rxH Tj=; . /^J
Academy foT OctobiiT l,-iS71 p 467 ' " fi'^^^'J' '"■'• 26; see The
David, bishop of Dara (iti/) ' ' '"''■ ') ^"'^ was succeeded by
12 See Bo" 'i' ?"'-l4'2: Hoffmann, ylus::u,e, pr,. 121 161 lyt ' "•
1' See Catal. Vul., iii. s?' ,, ®^? °«>^' paragraph.
=» Tliat is, of Katar, on the coast of al-Babrein.
MlS„:isZ:^,'/rd'aTf =■ ^•'^°- '■-"^- "^--an
psalters."- ^ " *>™"^' contained in Nestorian
y^ir71!^:Ll^^!j:^ - - J- just mentioned. Ish.^-
ne studied at Nisibis, ^r^^i ZsuZTjVfl ""','"' '"' ^^''^
elevation to the patriarchate H., '^ ^f^"^ =" *'"= t™'^ "^ ''is
daughter of Khosliu I., on an en^W to H* '",'^° V ^'"5"' '^^
Constantinople, whom he meTat il^nYo ",<'!'"=''"^' "'e emperor of
lie restored th; holy croTs w liA'X;, 'I!'^ '" ''''""^i "'^ '^'c "'d-
Persians when they c^apti^red J usalem in 6T4 -""1?'^ "^ >^ *'"=
downfall of the enfeebled Persian ™ i V; ^o'-eseeing the
made conditions on behaU If h s So* wi'tl 'fhe^M ' "^""' r'^^'^'y
It IS said through the intervention of »rb^,-"'T-"i'''^" ™'<''-'
andof Veshu' (or Isho'), bishop of that p^ace-Thpf '.* ^'"^T
nance containing the terms oC a^rZrr..,^ f , '^"^ <"" "''Ji-
by 'Omar ibn aKKhaf ab =7^ AcCd-;"::?r^T"^"'fl='"d confirmed
writings of Isho'-vabh w^rf -, ^ ° to Abhd-isho', the principal
sundr;epistle:.hiit:ries,\Td l^ZT'^IlZn'':^ Ir'""' ^"'
the Nestorian psalter Brit. Mus. Add 14675 '»^ ' """"^ ""
bahdona of Halamun, a village in P.?n. -nt.'vs j> - .«
at Nisibis. and became a monk inder M^, T r':^"^'^"'''''*'''^ S^''-^""'
the famous convent of Beth°lbhe s» He?e b. ' *^« /'""'^er of of Hal.,
in two volumes on the monasric liTe besides a hisr''°'f?-" *""''"^« "'=°-
and a funeral sennon on him siHr^ 1 7 °""' "''•''*"'
dh-Arewan in Beth Gar,nai,3=ank wasfne of tS^Ne^r^^^ °f *^''-'°"
accompanied Isho'-yabh of Ge^dh^fron bis .^K ^^"ll''*^"''^''
Whilst halting at Apamea Islio' v.bb 1 I Ti^^S"'' *° ^eraclius.
of Damascus,°and S^na tneT tla^i/trnd at of °"\" ""'^'T
monks of a neighbouring /Jacobie) convent t, ™°^'ci'>»g the
was that SahdoSa himseVwas convXd S=\,f'° rf"" "J '"^''^
several heterodox works. TWs indd^nt r„ s! ^'^'<'',"-"ds wrote
the East, as may be seen from *>,» 'V' '""'''' scandal in
yabh of Hedhai^.bh":no W membr^^h, ^m^ "'"t H'°>
necessary to ^vrite upon the sublet 3^ embassy, found it
BaltuVr^af rft^:;\Hnr°n°HMr-''^/"^'f? ^^^^^''^ -™^'l i»>---
oftcutovi^ttheconv ntofBe^l fe^ or Adiabene, who u.edyabhlfl
school of Nisibis, became bishon nf M , ^'i'^^' "^'''''^"^ ='t the of Hi-
politan of Haz.a'(A%T;r^t-ra'nSur'Tht cvt '"^'/°-/''->- ■
his rule at Mosul seems to have been that b.t-n 1 .'^'"'^CTent of
from building a church in that t;?^ 36 , ""^cred the Jacobites
U,econventofB/th';irhr«%'j;trL«
of learning he wished to fou, 1%^^°,"'""";"^ for the promotion
■Abhe, where he had b^'lt ?1 =';^°1 'i the convent of Beth '
Kllm-ko-and herestoftheuTf .'if"l'\""''' *"" the abbot
this, and preferred to onit t), ^ ''™tlicrhood would have none of
bouring vS age "f He,Trin LlTr-^?°'\;^^ *" "" ""g'l-
gave up this part S his ^U„ ^ f'^^'''V.-, .hereupon the catholicus
?illage^f L^^h ana (^r'Kulpanl)'"''V":. ™ !^^° "\'"l ^^"'-'^
Himself involved in an'otheilTrn'ore se^iZ dSr.^fth'sitt
=3 Jud.<l, near Mosul ' ' ° "'^'-ell, ConspccOis, pp. 37, .IS.
4B:^r;:i!^"^^^^-:^^^^I^:^ .. „3 ana
Ear-Hobn^ns, Chron. fete ii m B 0 nf I'^or" "', ^""'^'<"" in r,2Q ; s.o
n;?,^^'„^;^M;;i;a^;,S. v^^Ji/^^^r- ^^-i ^-'-•. «■ "= b^.
=' See B.O.. i,i. 1, 103, col ' \b Z^l'l'?Vh'^ *''" ""'<' («2.633).
32 See SLO./m. I.lio coll at thp w' V "^^ ■ "O-. in. J.l'.^ieo.
37 t;^')! 'Vu'' ■*'- i Hoffmann, Jusruye, p. 226. S6 ;! 0 ;,: , ,,. ,,,
Bar-Hebraus, aron. fe;t"..ii. 155.15?^ 4, Hoffmann, .lus.-uy,, pp. i«)-13l ;
38 CTirojt. £ccte., ii. 127. 33 r n ••• •, ,„.
" « t<io ;. \ ->-per.y M^.frVrmr^i^' (^^T^.Tii'S^ ''c"oV.'"'5rU'''
tl,!* °'''v"-"'^ri"^'''"'«''t''"":':l<on!nff,till660 00 hcc &:ir rr, .™7 x^f
"«Te? pI'? Denh., Who died in C60 (ftar-Helrxus^ , "^''/vc/S M rff-',f
iec Hoffmann, Am,„sc. pp. 223, 2.'7. ' ,0 i- 6. ,1j "7 124 12:.
7 th cent.]
SYRIAC LITERATURE
843
■the metropolitan of Rev-Aidashiir ' in Persia and of the Katraye,'
who refused obedience to him as his diocesan ; and this led to a
lengthy correspondence, regarding which see B.O., iii. 1, 127-13G.
His works, as enumerated by 'Abhd-ishO', arc — Buppikh Hushshdlhe
or "Refutation of (Heretical) Opinions,"' written for John, metro-
politan of Beth Lapat,* and other controversial tracts, consolatory
And other discourses, various hymns, ** and an exhortition to cer-
tain novices. Ho arranged the Hudhra' or service-book for the
Sundays of the whole year, for Lent, and for the fast of Kiiieveh,'
and drew up offices of baptism,' absolution,' and consecration."
He also wrote a history of the monk Isho'-sabhran, a convert from
the religion of Zoroaster and a Christian martyr." A largo collec-
tion of his letters is extant in Cod. Vat. clvii. (Catal., iii. 299), a
judicious selection fi'om which would he worth piinting."
'inan-isho'" of lledhaiyabh and his brother. Isho'-yabh were
fellow -students at jJisibis with Isho'-yabh III., and afterwards
entered the great convent on Mount Izla. Isho'-yabh subsequently
became bishop of Kardaliyabhadh"; but 'Anan-isho' was seized with
a fit of wandering', and visited Jerusalem, whence he went on to the
Uesert of Skete in Eg>'pt, and made himself thoroughly acquainted
yith the lives and habits of its monks, regarding whom he had
read so much in the Paradise of Palladius. On his return he soon
'forsook the gieat convent, because of dissensions that had arisen
'in it, and betook liimself with his brother to the convent of Beth
t'Abhe, where he devoted himself to study, and so distinguished
Mmself that he was employed by Isho'-yabh III. to assist in arrang-
ing the Hudhra (see above). 'Anan-islio' wrote a volume of philo-
sophical divisions and definitions, with' a copious commentary,
dedicated to his brother,'' and compiled a work on the correct
reading and pronunciation of difficult wgrds in the writings of the
fathers,-' thus following in the footsteps of Joseph Hiizaya (see
above, p. 83&), and anticipating Jacob of Edessa and the monks of
the convent of Karkaphetha (see above, p. 826). He was also the
author of a treatise entitled iiicr Canonum de JEquUUteris, i.e.,
on the different pronunciation and signification of words that are
Bpelt with the same letters. This has been published, with the
additions of Honain ibn Ishak of al-Hirah (died in 873) and another
compiler, by Hoffmann, Opuscula A'csioria>ia, pp. 2-49." His greatest
Tfork, however, was a new recension or redaction, in two volumes,
of the Paradise of Palladius and Jerome, with additions collected
by himself from other sources and from his own experience.^ This
he compiled at the request of the patriarch George, and it became
the standard work on the sulject in the Nestorian convents."
John of Beth Garmai (Garniekaya), called John the Elder, was
a disciple of Jacob of Beth 'Abhe, and his successor as abbot of
that conventi After a few months, however, he secretly fled from
Beth 'Abhe and betook himself to a hill near Dakuka-" in Beth
Garmai, where the monastery of Ezekiel-' was soon afterwards built,
in which ho ended his days." His works, according to 'Abhd-
isho',-' are — a collection of heads of knowledge or maxims, rules
for novices, a brief chronicle, histories of Abraham, abbot of the
great convent on Mount Izla, of the monk Bar-'idta,^^ and of Mar
Khodhahwai, the founder of the convent of Beth Hale (near al-
Hadithah, by Mosid), with a. discourse and liymns on the last
named.
Sabhr-Isho' Rustam-' was a native of a village called Herem, in
Hedhaiyabh, and entered the great convent on Mount Izla under
the abbot Karsai, the successor of Babhai. Here, at the request
of the monks, he wrote a tract an the occasion of the aelcbration
of Golden Friday, and also a large volume of disputations against
liercsies and other theological questions. He migrated thence,
1 Or K^shahr (YaUnt) ; seo Koldekc, G«.sc/i. d. Terser u. Araber, p. 19, note 4.
2 Or Arabs of ^ajar, on the Peraian Gulf, and tlie adjacent districts. See
B.O., ui. 1, 136. a RO., iii. 1, 137, note I.
* BO., iii. 1,]38, col. I; Koldeke, Ccsch. d. Ferscr u. Araber, p. 41, note 2;
HotTmann, .HU5rupe, p. 41, note 851.
i* The composition on the martyr George quoted by Cardahl (Liber Thti., pp.
124-125) is proljably of much liKrdate. At least wc should not expect such arti-
ficial riming m the 7th century,
« a.O., In. 1, 139, 11!, col. 2. T Sco Badger, Vie Nuhrians, li. p. 22.
» Brit. Mus, Add. 7131 (Rosen, Catal., p. 69).
'E.g., of apost.-itcs and heretics, Calal. KnI., il. SOT, 307 ; of public penitents,
ibid., 291, Brit. Mus. Ail<l. 7181 (Rosen, Calal., p. !,9).
'» E.g., tlie coMsecr-ition of an altar with the chiism, Calal. Vat., II. D02, 308 ;
see also ibid., 29-1, where canons of his are given, and Cod. Vat. ccxci., in
Jlai, .?crip«. Vett. Nova Coll., v.
1" Calal. Vat., Iii. 328 ; B.O., ill. 1, 286, not« 2, and p. 033.
" II.O., iii. 1,140-143.
13 Properly 'Ana-u(i)lsho' ; see i).0.,Ui.l,144.146 ; Hoirmann, ()pu!C.WM(or.,
p. iv.
» The older name of BhcnnS dhS-Bheth BcmmJIn, In Arabic Sinn BS.rlmmS,
or simply as-Sinn ; sec Uuffniann, AuauQt, pp. 189, 253.
" B.O., ill. 1, 144, col. 2, near the foot. »» /bW., III. 1, 144.
17 From a MS. in the India OOiee library, Ijondon. There is another copy
in the collection of the 8.P.C.K., now at CaiiibridKC.
i» See B.C., ii. 493 ; iii. 1, 49, 145 col. 2, 151 col. 1. middle
1» Tlie in^slrationa of the Book o/ the Paradist in Brit. Mils. Add. 17203, 17264
(Wright, Catal., pp. 1078-60) and Orient. 2311 seems to bo a ililferent worlt.
The author of It fs said to have been a Katrayu, "a native of Katir," which
'AnHn-IshO' was not. '.o Hjlfnunn, Avrngi, p. 2T3.
>l Bo called from Its founder ; see Hoffmann, rji. oil., p. 274, note 2154.
M B.O., 111. 1, 203.:04, 474. But ho must have lived tilt after C81, f.r MJr Kho.
dhlhwal WBS stiil alive In that year (£.0.
M S.O., Iii. 1, 204. S4 :nd., Ill, 1, 4()7,'col.'2, ck'*.
. 1, 151, near the top).
• - • • t» tbti., ill. 1, 4:4.455.
perhaps along with Narsai, to Beth 'Abhe, wliere, however, h«
resided onlv for a short time, being invited by the monks of Beth
Kuka -' to become their prior. Here he composed eight discourses
on the dispensation of our Lord, the conversion of the various
countries by the Apostles, and on continence and the monastic life.
Further, at the request of Mar Kardagh, the synceUus of Isho'-
yabh III., ho wrote lives of Isho'-Zekha (of the convent of Gassi),
of Isho'-yabh III., of Abraham abbot of Beth 'Abhe, who camo
thithei;^ from the convent of Zekha-isho',=^ of Kam-isho' abbot of
Beth 'Abhe,-' of Abraham of Nethpar, of rabban lyObh (or Job)
the Persian, and of the elder Sabhr-isho', the founder of the
convent of Beth Kuka,=' to wliich may ba added the lives^of the
brothers Joseph and Abraham.^"
George, tlie pupil and successor of Isho'-yabh III., was a native of
Kaphra in Beth Gewaya, a district of Beth Garmai.^' His parents
were wealthy, and owned two faims in the neighbourhood of tlio
convent of Beth 'Abhe. Being sent to take charge of these, he got
acquainted with the monks and ultimately joined their body. When
Isho'-yabh was pron\oted to the patriarchate, ho appointed George
to be metropolitan of Hedhaiyabh in his stead '- ; and, on the death
of his friend, George succeeded to the patriarchate in 661, and sat
till 680. As an author he is not of much account, having written
merely a few homilies, with hymns and prayers for certain occasions,
and published nineteen canons.^ His too in all probabilfty is tha
"epistola dogma>.'ca" contained in Cod. Vat. cccclvii., p. 360. ''
Elias, bishop of Maru or Merv, was one ofthose who were 'resent '
■at the death of Isho'-yabh III. and elected George as his sucjessor.^
He compiled a Catena palrum {MallUphdniUhd dh>!-Kaji',mdyc) on '
the four Gospels, and wrote commentaries on Genesis, Tsalms, Pro-
verbs, Ecclesiastes, the Song of Songs, Ecclesiasticus, Isaiah, the
twelve minor Prophets, and the epistles of St Paul. His letters
would probably bo of some interest to us, and the loss of his ecclesi-
astical history, to which 'Abhd-isho' applies the epithet of " trust-
worthy," is to be regretted.^'
Of Daniel bar JIaryam we can only say that he flourished under Daniel
Isho'-yabh III. of Hedhaiyabh, about 650.''' He wrote an ecclesi- bar
astical history in four volumes, and an explanation of the calendar. JIaryaat
The history is Cited by George of Arbcl in the 10th century for the
date of the destruction of Jerusalem.''
Gabriel, surnamed Tauretha, was a native of the province of Gabriel
Siarzur or Shahrazur.'' He studied at Nisibis, and then entered Taoritha.
the groat convent on Mount Izla, where he took part in a contro-
versy with the Monophysite monks of the convent of Kartamin
(near Mardiu) and against Sahdona. He afterwards migrated to
Beth 'Abhe, where he wrote a life of Mir Narsai the abbot, au
account of the martyrs of Tur Bcia'in or ITir Bercn (Adhuiparwi,
Jlihrnarsai, and their sister MShdokht, in the ninth year of Sapor
II.), a homily for the washing of the feet, S:c." He became abbot
of Beth 'Abhe under the catholicus Henanisho' I. (686-701).*'
Heuan-ishc' !., c:i!led the Elder or the Lame (highlrd), was. ap- Hanam-
pointed catholicus in 686,*^ in succession to John bar Marta,*' the fol- '■■"'o' I
lower of George. He was opposed by Isho'-yabh of al-Ea.sraIi, whom
he threw into prison, but afterwards released on his making his sub-
mission. A more serious rival was John of Dasen, bishop of Nisibis,
surnamed the Leper, who curried favour with the caliph 'Abd aJ-
Malik ibn Marwan and procured the deposition of HenSn-isho",
whose pljce he occupied for nearly two years.'* Bar-Hcbraeus adds **
that John put him for some days into prison, and then sent him
off to a convent among the mountains iu charge of two of his dis-
ciples, who threw the luckless catholicus down a precipice and left
him there for dead. Luckily he was found by some shepherds,
who took good care of him, though he seems to liave been lame ever
after. On his recovery he withdrew to the convent of Yaunan (or
Jonah)*'' near Mosul, where he stayed till the death of his rival,
lie continued to rule the Nestorian Church till 701,*' and was buried
28 On the Great Z5b, In ^ISdlialyabh ; sco Hofltaann, A ituiiDt, p. 215, not« 1715
" H.O., ill. 1, 403, col. 1, at the top.
28 Who died in 052 ; see Baethgcn, Fraomcnie, pp. 21, 112.
» B.O., ii. 418, col. 2. *J nul., ill. 1, 228, col. 1, near the fooU
31 B.O., 11. 421, iii. 1, 149 ; Bir-Hcbraus, Chron. Eccla., II. 131, 133 ; Homnann,
A uiziifje, p. 277.
»2 Ho must bo distinguished from two other Georges, Persians by race, also
disciples of Isho'-yabh, viz., George, bishop of Pi rath di^-Maishrm or oI-Ba*rah.
and George, blsliop of Nisibis, the latter 01 whom is the author of a well.kno» n
hyinr. (see B.O.. liJ. 1, 456 ; BIc'kcH, Conr]^clits, p. 36), often found in Ne>l"ri.iii
p-altcra, e.g., itosen, Cntal., p. 14, w; Wright, Colnf., 1>. 131, coL 1 ; Muu. h
t'ii''i(.. Cod. Syr. 4, p. 112»
33 B.O., III. 1, 153. SI JIal, SL-rlpll. Veil. Nova Coll., T. " B.O., II. 420.
'» Ibid., iii. 1, 148. 3! J6i<(., f,. 420 ; Iii. 1. 231. » Ibid., lU. 1, 521.
3» See Hoffmann, Ansruge, p. 43, notes 864, 305, p. 254 *J.
"> ;).0.,lli. 1,450-458; Holftuaun, /I iiMu^f , pp. 010, from Brit. Mus. Add. 12174
(Wright, Crita/.,p. 1I3S).
0 I!nr-(aumA waa abbot at the beginning of ^{lliu.[Bh6"s patriarchate ; m*
CO., iii. 1,457, col. 1.
i- Rirllebru!us, C*ron. EecUx, U. 135; Bactligto, Fmgrunlt, pp. n, IlIJ
B.o.,ii. 123.
*J Ilesat080-6S2; P.O., 11. 422, IIM, 015; Dar-Bebiaui, C^ran. £telM.,iL 1S*J
*1 Il-U'lhgcn, Fragminlf, pp. 31,35. 118, 119.
*' ri.ron. Ecdts., il. 135 .<',.; Il.iK, 11. 423. ^
*! Jl.O., II. 424, note 3. l^ar•Ilcb^^^u^ cills It " the convenf. of John.""»
*■ AcconllngtoElla8barShluivlllnUaothgcu,^ru»m«n/», pp. S8, IM. Otiiaia
say 099.
844
SYRIAC LITERATURE
in the convent of Jonah.i Besides composing homilies, sermons
and epistles, he was the author of a life of Sergius Dewadha^ of
Paraukarah or Daukarah, near Kashkar, who was a contemporary
of his. He also wrote a treatise On the Twofold Use of the School
or university, as a place of. moral and religious training as well as
of instruction in letters, and a commentary on the Ancdylics of
Aristotle.'
Presumably to this century belong t^-o ecclesiastical historians
who are kno\vn to us only from the Chnmicle of Elias bar Shinaya
Alaha-zekha is quoted by him in regard to events that took place
in 594-596 and 606." Perhaps he is identical with that Alaha-
zekha to whom we find Isho'-yabh III. writing a letter whilst he
was yet brshop, consequently in the earlier part of the century. «
Mikha or Micah is cited by Elias as an authority for the years 594-
596 and 605."
Passing over into the 8th century, we may mention David of Beth
Rabban, that is, of the convent of Zeklia-isho', afterwards of Beth
Abhe, who was the author of a monastic history, called The Little
Paradise, which is frequently cited by Thomas of Mcrga. Its first ■
shapter contained anecdotes relative to George Neshraya, Nathaniel
and other monks of Beth 'Abhe, who lived under Henan-Isho' I
towards the end of the 7 th century.' David attained episcopal
dignity, though we -do not knoin tJv« name of hia sea. He wrote
also a geographical treatise Upon the Limits of Climates or Countries,
and the Variations of the Days and Nights.^
Babhai bar Nesibhnaye (so called because his parents were of
Nisibis) flourished under the catholicus Selibha-zekha (713-729),
the successor of Henan-isho . He was a native of Gebhilta or
Jabilta in Tirhan," and is described by Thomas of Marga as bein.'
a tall, powerful man, with a magnificent voice, gentle and modest"
and learned withal. He devoted himself to the reformation of the
musical services of the Nestorian Church, which had fallen into
jad confusion, and lounded many schools, more particularly in the
dioceses of Hedhaiyabh and Marga, with the special object of pro-
moting the study of church music. The most important of these
were at Kephar-'Uzzel " in Hedhaiyabh and Bashush in the district
of Saphsapha in Marga." At the former he took up his residence,
but used to visit and inspect the others once a year. In his latter
years he returned to Gebhilta and died there. He wrote discourses
and homihes of different kinds, numerous hymns for various occa-
sions, histories (of holy men), and letters."
Bar-Sahde of Karkha dhe-Bheth Selokh flourished, according to
Assemani, under the catholicus Pethion (731-740).'" 'Abhd-isho'
states that he wrote an ecclesiastical history " and a treatise against
the Zoroastrian religion.
When Babhai the Nisibene was residing at Kephar-'Uzzel (see
above), a woman from the village of Beth Saiyadhe brought to him
her crippled son, whom she called "only half a man," and begged
him to bless him "This is no half man," was the gentle monk's
reply ; this shall be a father of fathers and a chief of teachers :
his name and his teaching shall ha famous throughout the whole
Hast. This was Abraham bar Dashandadh "the Lame," whose
works are enumerated by 'Abhd-isho' as follows i'— a book of exhort-
ation, discourses on repentance, >8 letters, the book of the kin-r's
way, a disputation with the Jews, and a commentary on the dis-
courses of Mark the monk." He was teacher at the school of Bashiish
in Saphsapha, where the future catholicus Timothy I. received his
early education as weU as his successor Isho' bar Non and Abu
JNun al-Anbari.™
Mar-abha, the son of BSrikh^sebhyaneh, was a native of Kashkar,=>
and became bishop of that town. ^ From this see he was promoted
yiraift™rts"^?,B\'f/vf'J™;''''"!'°°!?* ='''''' "»=»* l"^ erave was opened 650
2 MntTi- ,1- ■ ^ ""^ ^""^^ f'''""* undecayed and looking as if he slept.
3 Sa,^» M54 '^'^'" """"^ '" *'^'" "«Pilept^?"cra^!''
7 %'n ^?-'?'''J',''?"''; '^'"''"'- ^'''^"■- "■ 106 note 3, 107 note 2.
8 fo" I" 1 ■ nil ™4,-' ^^^ '=°'- V '"^ "'^o PP- « "Ote 1. 1S4 col. 1,1. 1.
of mwh'later date ^h'. ^rTMf'"?"^ *,".''? Assemani in note 1 are no doubt
.il-B ■ , ^a™ani places David s death " in the year SOO " Twentv l-wn vorv
Alse1n\"SKi"l.!°i^lto', gtv'e?"m^4" ^'"'^'^' ■^'■"?'^"'^' ^P" ■"-' "■ ^''- ^'^
IJ Hoffmann, Amziige, p. iss.
"■ nid.,p.23Ssq. 1" Ibm n !>05
15 rt 'J i: ^,' Baethgen, Fragmenle. pp. 49, 125.
K sX^^.hvl ■ ^''"*^^' ''' ^^''■^Ij'l"^ '^™"- •^«^'«-. "• 65. note 1.
« See Bnt. Mus Add. 17270 (Wright, Catal., p. 4S2)
■it others say of Daukarah, in the neighbourhood of Kashkar, B.O., ii. 431
[8th cent.
rnllS ^-fl fi, ^^'-'y^- <=^t^°l'?»'- ^' ^'^^ ^^ had- some difli-
culties with the emir Yusuf ibn 'Omar ath-ThakafI, but these were
Ifll 1^ ? ""fj-^ l^-"""/"^' ^'^''^ S^^« l-'"^ "" opportunity o<
going also to al-Hirah, where he was received with great honour
by tne aged bishop John Azrak. He shortened his name to Abha,
the better to distinguish himself from his predecessor Mar-abha I
(see above, p. 836). In the sixth year of his patriarchate he got into
a dispute with his clergy about the management of the school at
Seleucia and withdrew to Kashkar, but returned to Seleucia before
his death, which took place in 751, at the age, it is said, of 110
years. According to Bar-Eebr«us, "he was learned in ecclesi-
astical works and m dialectics, and composed a commentary on
Theologus {i.e., Gregory Nazianzen)," and all his time he was occu-
pied inreading books." 'Abhd-isho' mentions him in tWo places,
as Abha of Kashkar- m B.O., iii. 1, 154, and as Abha bar Berikh-
sebhyaneh at p. 157. In the former place he ascribes to him
expositions, letters, and a commentary on the whole Dialectics of
Aristotle,-" and in the latter, The Book of the Generals, or Military
Governors,'^ and other works.
Simeon bar Tabbakhe (the Butcher) of Kashkar held the im- Simeoii
porUnt post of chief officer of the treasury under the caliph al- bar Tab-
Mansur/' about the same time that his co-religionist George barbSkh?.
Bokht-isho of Gunde-Shabhor or Beth Lapat,^^ in Khilzistan, waai
court physician.-' The only work of his mentioned by "Abhd-islio'
IS an ecclesiastical history, which from his position at Baehdadh
doubtless contained much valuable information.
Suren or Surin,3« bishop of Nisibis and afterwards of Halah or Siiie»,
Holwan m Beth Madhaye,^' was raised to the patriarchate in 754,
by the orders of Aban, the Muhammadan emir of al-Madain
k°°i!!."i,lf '• :, ^'^^ bishops appealed to the caliph 'Abdallah as-
ballah,^- and not- m vain. The election was cancelled, and Jacob,'
bishop of Gunde-Shabhor, wa3 chosen in his place (who sat till 773).
Their continued squabbles, however, so irritated al-Mansur that he
gave orders to throw them both into prison. Siiren' made his
escape in time, but Jacob was caught and spent the next nine years
under strict ward, during which time "the second Judas," 'Isa
ibn Shahlatha or Shahlafa,^ deacon and physician, trampled the
rights of the bishops under foot. On his release, he sent Suren as
bishop to al-Basrah, at the request of some of the Christian citizens,
but others would not. receive him, and their quarrels once more
attracted the caliph's attention. Suren, warned by 'Isa, again
made his escape, but was captured by the emir of al-Madain and
r.'l1 j" P"^o"-** The epithet of mphashshtkdnd, given to liim by,
Abhd-isho', =» implies that he was either a commentator on Scrin-
ture or a translator of Greek works into Syriac. He composed a
treatise against heretics, but the remainder of 'Abhd-ish6"s text is
not clear in Assemani's edition.'"
Cyprian, bishop of Nisibis, was appointed to that see in 741.^7 Cyprian
The great event of his life was the building of the first Nestorian of NisI^
church in the Jacobite city of Taghrith,just outside of the walls, bis.
on the banks of the Tigris. The idea originated with Selibha-
zekha, bishop of Tirhan, but would never have been realized, had
not Cyprian allowed the Jacobites to resume possession of the
church of Mar Domitius at Nisibis. The building of the church
at Taghnth was commenced in 767.^ Cyprian also erected a magni-
ficent church at Nisibis, on which he expended the sum of 66,000
dinars, m 758-759.^3 After this time it so happened that the patri-
?r T "^ x'^^ *''^^ Christian sects, Theodoret the Malkite, George
the Jacobite, and Jacob the Nestorian, were all in prison at once
at Baghdadh. 'Isa the physician, thinking to inmrove the occa-
sion to his own advantage, wrote to Cyprian that' the caliph al-
f -w^""" ?°^'^*^'* ^°™^ of tli^ golden and silver vessels of the church
of Nisibis, hinting at the same time in pretty plain language that
a handsome present to himself might be of some avail at this junc-
ture. Cyprian had the courage to go straight to Baghdadh with
the letter and show it to the caliph, who disgraced 'Isa and confis-
cated his property .^ releasing the three patriarchs at Uie same time."
Cyprian died in 767. " According to 'Abhd-isho', he wrote a com-
« Baethgen, FragmnU, pp. 60, 125; Bar-Hebraus, Ckron. Eccles., ii. 163:
■B-0-. "■ 431, iii. 1, 167. 23 See B.O., iii. 1, 157, col. 2.
-4 Whom Assemani takes for Abraham of Kashkar (see above, p. 837); for
what reason we cannot see. . «r ..
25 See B.O., iii. 1, 157, col. 2.
25 Perhaps a chronicle of the Muhammadan governors otal-'Irak.
27 JS.O., Hi. 1,206, col. 1,11. 4,5. '
^ Nbldcke, Oeseh. d. Perser it. Araler, p. 41, note 2.
-9 B.O., 111. 1, 205, col. 2, note 4 ; Baethgen, Fragmtnte, pp. 69, 60, 128 : BaJ-
Hebraus, Hist. Dynast., 221 ; WiistenfelJ, Gcsch. d. arab. Aerzte, No. 26.
30 On the name see Nbldeke, Gtsch. d. Perser u. Araber, p. 438, note 4.
31 See Hoffmann, Avsziige, p. 120.
32 He died in June of this same year.
33 See Bar-Hebraus, Eist. Dynast., p. 221 ; 'Wustenfeld, Gtsck. d. arai. Aent^
^ B.O., |. 431 ; iii. 1, 168, 205-206.
35 Ibid., iii. 1, 168. 36 ibid., tii. 1, 169.
f B3.ethgen, Froffmcnte, pp. 50, 125 ; Bar-Hebrteu3, Chron. £cdes.. ii. l.'i4,o<lt6i.
38 BarHebrsEus, Ckron. Ecdes., ii. 155-157.
39 Baethgen, Fragmente, pp. 57, 128.'
"> Bar-Hebraeus, Hist. Dynast., p. 224.
■" Bar-Hebraius, Chron. Ecdes., ii. 161-163; B.il.. iii. 1. 111-112
•" Baethgen, FragmerUe, pp. 60, 129.
9th CEJfT.]
SYRIAC LITERATURE
845
mentary on the theological discourses of Gregory Nazianzen and
various forms of ordination.'
Timothy Timothy I. was a native of Hazza in Hedhaiyabh, and had been
I. .1 pupil of Abraham bar Dashandadh (see above, p. 844) at the school
of Bashash in Saph^apha. He became bishop of Beth Bfighesh,"
and stood well with the Muhammadan governor of Mosul, Abu
Miisa ibn Mus'ab, and his Christian secretary Abii Niih al-Anbari.'
On the death of Henan-isho' II. in 779,* several persons presented
themselves as candidates for the dignity of catholicus. Timothy
got rid of Isho'-yabh, abbot of Beth "Abhe, by pointing out to
him that he was an old man, unfit to withstand his younger rivals,
and by promising, if he himself were successful, to make him
metropolitan of HMhaiyabh, which he afterwards did. Meantime
Thomas of Kashkar and other bishops held a synod at the convent
of Mar Pethion in Baghdadh, and elected the monk George, who
had the support of 'Isa the court physician ; but this formidable
opponent died suddenly. Having by a mean trick obtained the
support of the archdeacon Beroe and the heads of the various
colleges, Timothy managed at last to get himself appointed catholi-
cus, about eight months after the death of his predecessor. He
Btill, however, encountered strong opposition. Ephraim metro-
politan of Guude-Shabhor, Solomon bishop of al-Hadithah, Joseph
metropolitan of MarS or Merv, Sergius bishop of Ma'allethaya,
and others held a synod at the convent of Beth Hale, in which
they made Rustam, bishop of Henaitha,' metropolitan of Hedhai-
yabh in place of Isho'-yabh,* and excommunicated Timothy, who
retorted with the same weapon and deposed Joseph of Merv.
Joseph brought the matter before the caliph al-Mahdi, but, failing
to ^ain any re'dress, in an evil hour for himself became a Muham-
iDadan.'« Once more Ephraim summoned his bishops to Baghdadh
and excommunicated Timothy for the second time, with no other
result than a counter-excommunication and some disgraceful riot-
ing, which led to the interference of 'Isa and the restoration of
peace.' Timothy was duly installed in May 780.° He made the
bishops of Persia subject to the see of Seleucia, and appointed over
theci one Simeon as metropolitan with orders to enforce a Stricter
rule than heretofore.^" In his days Christianity spread among the
Turks, and the khakan himself is said to have become a convert.''
Timothy's disgraceful response to the caliph ar-Rashid in the
matter of the divorce of Zubaidah may be seen in S.O., iii. 1, 161.
He is said to have died in 204 a. H. =819-820 a.d., or 205 = 820-821 ;
but, if he really was catholicus for forty-three years, his death cannot
have taken place till 823.'^, 'Abhd-isho' informs us that Timothy
wrote synodical epistles, a volume on questions of ecclesiastical
law, another on questions of various sorts, a third containing
disputations with a heretic, viz.,. the Jacobite patriarch George,
about 200 letters in two volumes, a disputation with the <;aliph
al-Mahdi or his successor al-Hadi (on matters of religion), and
an astronomical work on the stars. '^ Bar-Hebraeus adds hymns
for the dominical feasts of the whole year and a commentary on
Theologus (Gregory Nazianzen)."
Anony- In this century too we may place the two following historical
mous writers, whose names and works are unfortunately known to us
histor- only through the mention made of them by a later annalist. (1)
ians. An anonymous author, the abbot of the great convent (of Abra-
ham on Mount Izla), cited by Elias bar Shinaya in his Chronicle
under the years 740-741." (2) An ecclesiastical historian called
pethion. Pethion, identified by Baethgen {Fragmente, p. 2, No. 6) with tho
catholicus of that name. ^ 'This is, however, impossible, because
the catholicus died in 740, whereas tho Ecclesiastical Bislory of
Pethion is cited by Elias bar Shinaya under the years 765 and 768.
We conclude our enumeration of the Nestorian writers of this cen-
tury with the name of another historian. In the Bibl. Orient., iii.
1 B.O., iii. 1, 111-113. By tho " theology " of Gregory Nazianzen are probably
meant the discourses bearing the title 'Itieologica PTima, &c.; see, for example,
Wright, Oaiat.y p. 425, Nos. 22-25. 3 Hoffmann, Ausziige, p. 227 sq.
8 Also a pupil of Abraham bar Diisbandadh (B.O., iii. 1, 212 note 2, 15d,
col. 1). He IS mentioned in commendatory terms by Timothy in his encyclical
letters of 790 and 805 (B.O., iii. 1, 82 col. I, 164 col. 1 ; 'Abhd-Isho', Collcclio
Canonum Synodicorum,, ix. 6, in Mai, Scriptt. Vett. Nova Coll., x. pp. 107 col. 1,
829 col. 1). Ho was the author of a refutation of the I;Cor'iin, a disputation
Against heretics, and other useful worka (B.O., iii. 1. 212), among which may bo
mentioned a life of tho missionary John of Dailam (B.O,, lil. 1, 183, col. 2).
* Or, according to others, 777. «■
» Hoffmann, AvLsziige, p. 210 tq. « B.O., iii. 1, 507.
'7 We need not beliovo all the evil that Car-nebrteua tells ug of this unhappy
paSi.Chron. EccUs,, ii. 171 sq.
» See tho whole miserable story told In fWl In B.O., II. 433, lil. 1, 158160 ;
Sar-Hebncus, CKnu. Ecdcs., 11. 165. 1C9.
» Baethctjn, Fragmrnte, pp. C4, 131.
10 Bar-Hobricus, Chron. Ecctcs., il. 169 ; B.O., II. 433.
u /I.O., iii. 1, 100. Compare Chwolson's interesting memoir "Syrischo Grab,
inschrirten aus Semirjetscliie" (west of tho Chinese province of Kuldja, more
correctly KuljaX in Mim. tie VAcnd. Imp. de$ So. de St. Piti-rsb., 7th sor., vol.
xxxiv.. No. 4. The oldest of these tombstones is dated A. Gr. 1169-858 A.V.,
and marked "tho grave of Mcngkil-tenesh the believer " (p. 7) ; but most Of
thorn belong to the 13th and 14tb centuries. .
" See B.O., li. 434 : Iii. 1, ICO. " B.O.. III. 1, 162-163.
'4 Chron. Kcde.t., II. 179. llo is probably the author of tho hymn In Brit. .
Mm. Add. 7156 (Rosen, Calat. , p. 13, col. 1, 1) and Paris, Suppl. 80 (Zotcnbcrg,
CaiaL, e B>col. 1,1).
^ See Baethgen, Fmgmtntt, p. 2, No. 3 ; Bar-nebncns, Chron. Ecdes.^ U. 153
liDt« 2, l5lDOto I (Abbcloos writes " the abbots of the great convent ").
1, 195, the text of 'Abhd-isho', as edited by Assemani, speaks of a
writer named Isho'-denah, bishop of Kasra. Other IISS., however,
read Basra (al-Basrah), which is confirmed by Elias bar Shin.%ya
in Bacthgen's Fragmente, p. 2. The variation Denah-isho' in Bar-
Hebrsus {Chron. Eccles., i. 334) is of no consequence, and even there
the MSS. diifer. Besides tho usual homilies of sorts and some
metrical discourses, ho wrote an introduction to logic, a work
entitled The Jiook of Cliastity, in which he collected lives aad
anecdotes of holy men and founders of monasteries, and an ecclesi-
astical history in three volumes." This valuable work is known
to us only by a few citations in Bar-Hebraeus and Elias bar Shinaya.
Those in Bar Shinaya'^ range from 624 to 714, but the extract in
Bar-Hebrseus" brings us down to 793.
Reverting now to tho Jacobite Church, we shall find that tho
number of its literary men in tho 9th century is not lar/;e, though
some of them are of real importance as theologians and historians.
Dionysius Tell-Mahr.iya was, as his surname implies, a native of
Tell-Mahre, a village situated between ar-Rakkah and Ilisn Mas-
lamab, near the river Balikh.'' Ho was a student in the convent!
of Ken.neshre,-" and on its destrnction by fire-' and the consequent'
dispersion of the monks, he went to the convent of Mar Jacob at
Kaisiim, in the district of Samosata. -^ He devoted himself entirely
to historical studies,^ which he seems to have carried on in peace
and quiet till 818. Tho patriarch Cyriacus (see above, p. 842) had
got entangled in a controversy with tho monks of Cj-rrhus and
Gubba Barraya about the words lahma, sMmaiyana (" the heavenly
bread"), &c., in tho Eucharistic service, which ended in the mal-
contents setting up as anti - patriarch Abraham, a monk of tho
convent of Kartamin. After the death of Cyriacus in 817, a synod
was held in June 818 at Callinicus (ar-Rakkah), in which, after con-
siderable discussion, Theodore, bishop of Kaisiim, proposed the
election of Dionysius, which was approved by most of tnoso present,
including BasU I., maphrian of "Taghrith.^ Tho poor monk was
accordingly fetched to Callinicus, received deacon's orders on
Friday in the convent of Estiina or the Pillar, priest's orders on
Saturday in the convent of Mar Zakkai or Zacchaeus, and was
raised to the patriarchate in the cathedral on Sunday the first of
Abh, 818, the officiating bishop being Theodosius of Callinicus.'
Abraham and his partisans, seeing their hopes disappointed, main.^
tained their hostile attitude, which led afterwards to the usual
scandalous scenes before the Muslim authorities.'' Immediately/
after his installation, Dionysius commenced a visitation of his vast
diocese, going first northwards to Cyrrhus, thence to Antioch^
Kirkesion (Kirkisiya), the district of the Khabhiir, Nisibis, Dara
and Ksphar-tutha, and so back to Callinicus, where he enjoyed the
protection of 'Abdallah ibn 'Tahir against his rival Abraham. He
did not on this occasion visit Mosul and Taghrith, because the
maphrian Basil thought the times unfavourable.-* In 825 'Abd-
allah ibn Tahir was sent to Egypt lO put down the rebellion of
'Obaidallah ibn as-Sari, where he remained as governor till 827. ^'i
His brother Muhammad ibn 'Tahir was by no means so well disposed
towards the Christians, and destroyed all that they had been allowed,
to build in Edessa.^ Wherefore tho patriarch went down into
Egypt to beg the emir 'Abdallah to write to his brother and bid
him moderate his zeal against tho church, which he accordingly
did.-' On his return from Egypt the patriarch had troubles with
PhUoxenus, bishop of Nisibis, who espoused the cause of tho anti-
patriarch Abraham*"; and he then went to Baghdadh in 829 to confer
with the caliph al-Ma'min as to an edict tnat ho had issued OD
the occasion of dissensions between the Palestinian and Babylonian
Jews regarding the appointment of an exiliarch.^' During his stay
in the capital disputes took place among the Christians, which
ended in a reference to the caliph and in tho deposition of the
bishop Lazarus bar Sabhetha.'" From Baghdadh Dionysius pro-
ceeded to Taghrith and Mosul, and nominated Daniel as maphriiin
in place of the deceased Basil. In 830 al-Ma'mun made an attack
on tho Greek territory, and tho patriarch tried to see him on his
return at Kaisiira, but the caliph had hurried on to Damascus,
whither Dionysius followed him and accompanied liim to Eg)-pt
on a mission to tho Bashmurio Copts, who were then in rebellion.
Any efforts of his and of the Egyptian patriarch were, however, ol
no avail, and tho unfortunate rebels suffered tho last horrors of war
10 B.O., iii. 1, 195. 1' Baethgen, Fraffmtntt. p. 2.
IS Chron. Ecda., i. 333; SO., iii. 1,195, note 4 (where 695 i»» misUko for 793).
Sto also RirUebTOUs, Chron. EKta., il. 42 note 2, 114 not« I, .123 nolo 1,
127 note 3, 138 notes 1, 2, 140 nolo 1.
13 See Ilofflnann in Z.D.M.G., xxxil. 0878), p. 742, not* 2.
-0 BarUcbneus, Chron. Ecctrs., I. 347.349.
:> B.O., ii. 845, col. 1, where the rebuilding of It by Dlonyiliu i< DltntloDed ;
Bar-llnbrwus, C'Aron. EccUs., i. 355, nt the top.
-J Barllobraus, Chron. EceUs., I. 347-349. A previous reildrnee it Ui« con-
vent of Zuknin near Amid (11.0., ii. 9», col. 2) Is uncertain, an the words dairj
dhilan probatjly mean no more than " the convent of ill Jacoi.ilrs.'"
M Bar-Uebraus, Chron. Ertla., I. 847, lost llDS. " Ibid., I. S47.
» Ibid., I. 355 357 : B.O., il. 345. Abr»lum <U«d In 8S7, and wa« luccoedod
by hin brother Htmcon as anti-patriarch.
2« Bar-IIebrxus, C'Aron. Ecclu., I. 8i3.
w WUatonfeld, Pit Slallhalltr von Atgvptt», Ito Abth., p. SI n. \ D« Stcy.
lUlitlion dt l/ijypK par AbdaltatiJ, pp. 501-608 Uld 552-657.
=« Bar-Hebruus, CHnn. Exit:, I. 859. ■ Ibid., I. .W9.
» Ibid., L 803. " Ibid., L ««5. »> IbuL, I. Mi-471.
846
tiYRIAC LITERATURE
at the hands of al-Ma'mun and his general Afshin.^ On this
journey Dionysius saw and examined the obelisks of Heliopolis,
the pyramids, and the Nilometer.= In 835 he revisited Taghrith to
settle some disputes between the Taghritans and the monks of Mar
Matthew at Mosul, and to ordain Thomas as maphrian in place of
the deceased Daniel. ^ In the same year he went once more to
Baghdadh to salute al-Ma'muu's successor al-Mu'tasim, and met
there the son of the king of Nubia, who had come' on the same
errand.* The latter years of Dionysius were embittered by the
oppressions and afflictions which the Christians had to endure at
the hands of the Muhammadans. He died on 22d August 845, and
was buried in the convent of Ken-neshre.* He left behind him
one great work, his Annals, covering the whole period of the world's
history f'-om the creation down to his own time. Of this there
were two recensions, a longer and a shorter. The longer redaction
was dedicated to John, bishop of Dara. and came down at all
events to the year 837, or perhaps a little later.s Assemani has
published an extract from it, which he was fortunate enough to
-and in Cod. Vat. cxliv., f. 89, in the B.O., ii. 72-77.' It would
seem to have been written, after the manner of Jiihn of Asia in a
senes of chapters dealing with particular topics. The shorter re-
daction 13 extant m a single imperfect MS., Cod. Vat. clxii.,8 and
is dedicated to George, chorepiscopus of Amid, Euthalius the abbot
(of Zuknm ?), Lazarus the periodeutes, the monk Anastasius, and
the rest of the brotherhood. It is arranged by successive years, and
ended with the year of the Greeks 1037 = 776 A.D.9 The author
has adopted a division into four parts. Part first extends from
the^creation to the reign of Constantino. Here the chief authoritv
IS the Chi-omcoru7n Canonum Liber of Eusebius, supplemented
^ some extracts from other Greek sources, such as Eusebius's
LccUsia^tical History and the Chronograpkia of Julius Africanu.s.
W ith these Dionysius has incorporated matter derived from sundry
other works, e.g., the Chronicle of Edcssa (see above, p. 835) the
MearrathGazze or "Cave of Treasures,"" Pseudo-CaUisthenes's
Life of Alexander the Great, the story of the seven sleepers " and
Josephuss JewUhWar (see above, p. 823)." The second part of
Dionysius s Chronicle reaches from Constantine to Theodosius II
and here he principaUy followed the Ecclesiastical Eist.ory of Socrates
n '?]' Ju,H°„ v7''h ^^-A- '^^'- *^^1 P"' '^^t^"'^^ from Theodosius
1 JV* V^ "• ■^''™ I^'onysius acknowledges himself chiefly in-
debted to his countryman John of Asia (see above, p. 835), but has
also incorporated th<^ short Chronicle of Joshua the St^lite (see above,
p. 832) and the epistle of Simeon of Beth Arsham on the Himyarite
fsS A r-il! 7-r* P- ^^-l '^^' ^"""''^ P"*' coming- do^ to
il-ff J"" '1^ ^■?-' '^ ^^^ °^° compilation, partly from such
imtfen documents as he could find, partly from the oral statements
of aged men. and partly from his o4 observation. Asseman has
given an account of the whole work, with an abridgement o"excerp
of the fourth part in the Bibl Orient., ii. 98-1161 but the labors
Christians « At an earlier period (802-803), when only? pri«t
Kroph1fElt?"'^rR ^^"^ ^^^'^"'<'" - '"^^ ^-1- of
■•rTf^Po P- ^r J ' ^°i* Bar-Hebrsus says that hb also rendered
. into Syriac the poems of the same author " "<= aiso renaerea
t iSe"! Ehttoricku"-^'' He t^°?r " ^'^'^ o/Taghrith. snmamed "the
[9lH CENT.
4f f I'SK^^pii.-nj.ia^itJ^&.'^l^-^.f^^'^'^ "• ^^■'
2 Bar-Hebraus, Chron. Eccks.. i. 377.3S1 "'"•■ PP- ^TV: .^
Ephesos, pp. 39-41) The Euseh&n »X,lf i^^ ^'"^"?' •^°'""'« Si^chof rOTt
With the (?reek or ginal (fo far as Do^h ?w^» *r"," '"''^'*t<=d ^n* compared
the Armenian versfon, by sTeXd and GriSr ^^'1'"'"=^ °l •"=lome7^ni
UnUrsi,chnngm uher d syrUAe fI,TJJIJ'i7 0°.*'?'^ "?'■•' see Gutschmid,
discourses," and of various encomia, thanksgivings, consolatory
epistles,'" and prayers, =* in many of wliich-ie makes use not merelv
of metre but also of rime.''
Lazarus bar Sabhetha, called as bishop Philoxenus and BasU,»
ruled the see of Baghdadh in the earlier part of the 9th century
As mentioned above, he was deposed by Dionysius in 829 He
compiled an anaphora or liturgy,-^ and WTote an exposition of the
office of baptism. 2-' The latter may be only part of a larger work
on the ofhces of the church, from which Bar-Hebr«us may have
derived the information regarding the musical services quoted bv
Assemani, .B.C., i. 166.
Contemporary with these was John, bishop of Dara. to whom
Uionysius dedicated the larger recension if his history (see above)
He compiled a Hturgy.'s and was the author of the following-
works— a commentary on the two books of Pseud o-Dionysiul
Areopagita De Hicrarchia Cselesti et Eccle.iastica,"-^ four books on
tlie priesthood,-' four books on the resurrection of the dead "-^ and
a treatise on the soul.-' '
Nonnus was an archdeacon of the Jacobito Church at Kisibis
during the first half of this century, the Nestorian bishop Cj-prian
having allowed the Monophysites to resume possession of the church
of bt Domitius m / 67 (see above, p. 814). He is mentioned by Bar-
Hebraus as bringing charges against the bishop Philoxenus, who
had sided with the anti- patriarch Abraham, and was therefore
deposed by a synod held at Ras'ain in 827 or 82S.5» We know also
tbat he was in prison at Nisibis when he wrote his work a<'ainst
Thomas bishop of Marga and metropolitan of Beth Garmai? who
flounshed under the ^6storian catholics Abraham (837-850 and
Theodosius (852-858). Besides this controversial treatise in four
dStef" """^ was the writer of sundry letters of a simiUr
Eomanus the physician, a monk of the convent' of JCartamin, Eoma-
dosi,? '^ rP'^'T^ ''Li'^^J^ «"' ^"'^ t°°k the name of Theo! nus th*
pS?I ^ u""''!^^ °^n^T '^P"'^-'' He wrote a commentary on cian or
P.eudo-Hierotheus, On. the Biddax. Mysteries of the Eoxise «fGod,^' Theo-
dfrirfpf !nf fi " 1° I'^?;''^. bishop of Cyrrhus.3= The work is dosing
dn-ided into five books, the first and second of which he finished
at Am.d, before going down to the East, and the third at Samosata.
?rLtil° '=<'!"P"=4 f collection of 112 Pythagorean maxims and
proverbs, with brief explanations in Syriac and Arabic, addressed
to one George.== A synodical epistle of his is extant in Arabic,
^^y in\:!'abifS'P''^" ^''''^'^ ^^^'^'^ I"-" ^"d a Lenten
h.-^^^'r^" ^'Pl'^^^s tl'.e son of Simeon Kepha (or Peter) and Moses
^ K^fail nT?.- J?'^^^*''" ".^ '"™™ ^^0 ^iU^go of Maihhadbar
native nfR,I,/^' ^.'Sn^ ^opposite al-Hadithah,^^ the mother a KephS,
native of Balad in which town their son was born somewhere about
»l,Lf e\T^ "fi""' f^°™ '^'^ ^^"-'y r^i'th bv Rabbau Cyriacus,
abbot of the convent of Mar Sergius on the Tura Sahya, or Dr^
Mountain near Balad and there assumed the monastic gab. H^
was elected bishop of Beth Eemman (Barimma)," Beth Kiyonava."
and Mosul,« about 863 and took the name of Severut ^ Ee^was
also lor ten years periodeutes or visitor of the diocese of Taghrith
t tfu- ^\-l^^ = 903 A.D.," "aged about ninety years, of wh ch
Mar Sertn^ ^w"^ ^°I forty," and was buried in the convent of
nn tb.^^ . nM '' T'^t' ""S °"™crous. He WTote commentaries
on the wlole Old and New Testaments," which are often cited by
Bar-Hebra;u3 in the Avsar R&^e. Of these that on the book of
» But. JIus. Add. 17208. . to Brit. Mus. Add 14726
» ao.. u. 219, note 1. From it there are extracts in Cod', "^t^xlvii. (CafoZ,
31'tt,,.. — •« Bar-Hebrseus, Chron. Ecdts., i. 363 ; B.O.. ii. 346 coL 1
Dn fiTJfiom™''°S^"'H','=g"**'""="' "> Brit. Mus. Add. 1459 "fright. C^
Bo1l.^Sl?sh^r/.%1?a\'?el':^if,fSaY^!,' ^:'Ih'1i ^.'^ \\^? 'V>-'
ably edited.by ZotenbeVg i^ the ./o.^.Ti-J.^,' H; pt^'^e-l e" " "^ "'^'•
leMnn, .S^^^ '''■ ^^^- WiST^^'"'- ^ ''''
Beth -IrMlf ^^^^fbSy?) '''' "<"' '' "^ '^ ""'^ ''-""P "' E'^ L-mkn 'i^
.;^:^s5if3^-'^°--^'«=4?^s:^s;---t;<:i;r^-^
9rH CENT.]
SYRIAC LITERATURE
847
Genesis survives, though imperfect, in Brit. llus. 17274,' and
there are extracts from them in Paris, Ancien fonds 35 (Zotenberg,
Catal., p.l56), and Bodl. Marsh.lOl (P. Smith, Calal., p. 462). The
Gospels and Pauline epistles (imperfect) are contained in Brit. JIus.
Add. 17274 (Wright, Catal., p. 6'.;0), the latter only in BodL Or. 703
(P. Smith, Catal., p. 410) and Bodl. Marsh. 86 {ibid., p. 418). His
♦reatise on the Hexaimcron in five hooks ' is preserved to us in the
Faris MS. Anc. fonds 120 (Zotenberg, Caial., p. 197), and there
ave extracts from it in two other JISS. {ibid., pp. 157, 159). The
.. irk De Paradiso, in three parts, dedicated to his friend Ignatius of
|AjO^ (? j,''is known to us only through the Latin translation of
Andreas Masii.3, 1569.* The treatise on the soul' survives in Cod.
Vat. cxlvii. {Catal., ill. ' /3-274) ; it consists of 40 chapters, with a
supplementary chapter to sho.7 that the dead are profited by ofl'er-
ings made on their behalf. That on predestination and freewill, in
four discourses, is extant in Brit. Mus. Add. 14731 (Wright, Catal.,
p. 853). The Disputaliona au-tinsl Heresies, spoken of by Jloses's
biographer in B.O., ii. 218 col. 2, is probably identical with the
work On Sects mentioned by Assemani at p. 131, No. 7. The
Festal Somilies for the whole year' is extant in several MSS., e.g.,
Brit. Mus. Add. 21210 (Wright, Catal., p. 877) and 17188 {ibid.,
p. 621), Paris, Anc. fonds 35 and 123 (Zotenberg, Catal., pp.
156, 159).' Besides these we have four funeral sermons,' an ad-
monitory discourse to the children of the holy orthodox church,'
ind a discourse showing why the Messiah is called by various
epithets And names.'" Moses also wrote expositions of the sacra-
ments ol the church, such as on the holy chrism, in 50 chapters,
Cod. Vat; cxlvii. {Catal., iii. 274) and Paris, Anc. fonds 123 (Zoten-
berg, Catal., -p. 159)," with which is connected the discourse on
the consecration of the chrism in Brit. Mus. Add. 21210 (Wright,
Catal., p. 879); on baptism, addressed to his friend Ignatius, in 24
chapters. Cod. Vat. cxlvii. {Catal., iii. 276), in connexion with which
WB may take the disccurse on the mysteries of baptism in Brit. Mus.
Add. 21210 (Wright, loc. cit.) and on baptism in Cod. Vat. xcvi.
{Catal., ii. 522) '2; exposition of the liturgy, Brit. Mus. Add. 21210
(Wright, Catal., p. 879) and Berlin, Sachau 62 (?); further, exposi-
tions of the mysteries in the various ordinations, Cod. Vat. Ii.
(Cato/.,ii. 320)"; on the ordination of bishops, priests, and deacons,
Brit. Mus. Add. 21210 (Wright, Catal, p. 879) ; on the tonsure
of monks," Cod. Vat. IL {Catal., ii. 322).'^ He also compiled two
anaphorae," one of ■which has been translated by Renaudot, ii. 391.
Lastly, Moses bar Kepha was the author of a commentary on
the dialectics of Aristotle, mentioned by Bar-Hebrteus in Chron.
Eccles., it 215, and of a commentary on the works of Gregory
Nazianzen, and an ecclesiastical history, mentioned by his bio-
grapher in £.0., ii. 218, col. 2. The loss of this last book is to be
regretted.
The contemporary Nestorian writers of mark are hardly more
numerous.
Tonain In this century the foundations of Syriac lexicography were laid
ibn hy the famous physician Abii Zaid Honain ibn Ishik al-'lbadi of
^shak. Herta (al-Hirah)." He applied himself to medicine at Baghdadh,
'rinder Yahya, or Yuhanna, ibn Masawaihi (Masuyah or Mesne);
but an ill-feeling soon sprang up between teacher and pupil, and
Honain took his departure for the Grecian territory, where he spent
a couple of years in acquainting himself with tho Greek language
and its scientific literature. He afterwards became physician to
tho caliph al-Mutawakkil. His downfall and excommunication
■were meanly brought about by a fellow-Christian of the same j' o-
fession, Isra'il ibn at-Taifuri, and Honain died soon after, 2'.'T
A.n. = 873 A.D." Honain composed most of his original works in
'Arabic, and likewise many of his translations from the Greek.
'Abhd-isho' mentions but three books of his,'" viz., a book on tho
fear of God (which he wrote as a deacon of the church), a Syriao
Irrammar, and a compendious Sy ao lexicon. The lexicon has no
'doubt been in great part absorbc i into the later works of Bar 'Ali
and Bar Bahliil.-'' The giaramnr seems to have been entitled KS-
thdbhd dhi-N'akzt; or the " Book of (Diacritical) Points." It is cited
by Bar-Hebraus in the Au^ar Raze -' and by Elias of Tirhan in his
» Wright, Catal.. p. 620.
3 B.O., ii. 128, No. 1.
» Ibid., ii. 131, No. 0.
3 md., ii. 218, col. 2.
0 Ibid., ii. 131, No. 9.
|« Ibid., Ii. 128, No. 2,
I'ff See also Cod. Vat. clix. (Catal., iii. 316-317): on tho Aiioension, Cod. Vat.
eilvii. (Catal., iii. 270). 8 Brit. Mus. Add. 17183 (Wright, Calal., p. 622).
» Brit. Mus. Add. 21210 (Wrigiit, Calal., p. 879).
>0 Brit. Mus. Add. 17183 (Wright, Calal., p. 022).
11 Tho Paris M:^. Ancion foods 3& contains another redaction in 3S chapters
(Zotenberg, Caliil., p. 157).
12 See also Cod. Vat. ccccxi., in Jfai, Scriplt. Vttl. Nova Coll., v.
.13 Sec also Cod. Vat. ccciv., in Mai, op. cit. 1« B.O., ii. 131, No. 8.
" Comnaro Cod. Vat. ccov., in Mai, op. cil. '» B O., ii. 130, No. 4.
17 Al-'lbiidi was tho nisbaJi of an Arab Christian of al-Hlrfth. S«e Ibn IChal.
li^an, ed. Wiistenfcld, No, 37. Latin ^vritcrs generally nil hi i Joapnitius.
IS See the Fihrist, pp. f ifi and HO ; Ibn Abl U?aibi'ah, ed. K illcr, 1. 184 ; rtin
KhalliliSn, ed. Wiistenfcld, No. 208; al-Mas'Qrli, Murij adh-Dhnhah, Ix. 173
»7.; BarHcbrxns, CTiroii.Siir.,p. 170(tranal., p. 173; B.O., 11. 270, notc3); Chnn.
Feclc!., ii.*197 199 (ft.O., H. 439); Hisl. Dijmut., p. 263 sq. (transl., p. 171 tq.);
Wcnricli, Df ^uctt. Gr. Venionilnts, Index, p. xxxl. ; Wiistenfcld, GcxK. d. arab.
yiersft. No. r.l 19 B.O., 111. 1, 165.
20 See Gcienins, Dr Bar Alto et Bar Balthilo Commtnlalio, 1S34, p. 7.
«• See Uomnaon. 2.D..1/.C., xxxii., 1878, p. 741. -
grammar.^ Honain also wrote a treatise On. Synonyms, whether
they be "voces' ffiquilittera " (as righiz and raggiz) or not (as 'dkitha
and haryulha). Extracts from this work have been preserved to us
by a later compiler, who made use also of the canons of 'Anan-
isho' of Hcdhaiyabh^ (see above, p. 843). In Cod. Vat. ccxvit'
{Calal., iii. 504) there are excerpts from a medical treatise of
Honain, but no title is given." Honain, liis son Ishak, and his
nephew Hobaish ibn al-IIasan al-A'sam (" Stiff- wrist") were among
the earliest and ablest of those Christians, chiefly .Nestorians, who.i
during the 9th and 10th centuries, making Baghdadh, " <ir head-
quarters, supplied Muhammadan scholars with nearly everythin"
that they knew of Greek science, whether medicine, mathematics"
or philosophy. As a rule, they translated the Greek first into
Syriac and afterwards into Arabic ; but their Syriac versions have
unfortunately, as it would appear, perished, without exception. 2'
An elder contemporary of Honain was Gabriel bar Bokht-isho",
in Arabic Jabra'il ibn Bakhtisliu' (or rather Bokhtishu"), a membei
of a family of renowned physicians, beginning with George bar
Bokht-isho' of Gunde-Shabhor, whom we have mentfoned above
(p. 844). He was in practice at Baghdadh in 791, and attended
on Ja'far ibn Y.iliya. al-Barmalci, became court physician to ar-
Rashid, and maintained this position, with various vicissitudes,
till his death in 828. '^ 'Abhd-isho' says that he was the author oi
a Syriac lexicon," which Is our reason for giving him a place here,
but no such work is mentioned by tho othe/ authorities to whom
we have referred.-*
Of Isho' Mariizaya, in Arabic 'Isa al-Marwazi, from the city of Isho
Maru or Merv, little is known to us beyond the fact that he com- Jlanj-
piled a Syriac lexicon, which was one of the two principal authori- zayi,
ties made use of by Bar 'Ali.^ That he should be identical with
the physician al-XIarwazi, who lived about 567,^° seems wholly un-
likely. We might rather venture to identify him with Abii Yahya
al-Marwazi, who was an eminent Syrian physician at Baghdadh,
wrote in Syriac upon logic and other subjects, and was one of the
teachers of Matta ibn Yaunan or Yunus (who died in 940)." In
any case, 'Isa al-Marwazi seems to have flourished during the latter
part of the 9th century, and therefore to have been a contemporary
of Bar 'All.
Isho', or 'Isa, bar 'Ali is stated in Cod. Vat. ccxvii. {Catal., iii. Bar 'AH.
504, No. XV.) to have been a pupil of Honain. His father 'Ali and
his uncle 'Isa, the sons of Dri'ud or David, were appointed by the
catholicus Sabhr-isho' II. (832-836) to the charge of tho college
founded by him in the convent of Mar Pethion at Baghdadh!*^
Bar 'All's lexicon is dedicated to a deacon named Abraham," who
made certain additions to it after the death of the author."
Isho" bar Non was a native of tho village of Beth-Gabbare near Isho' by^
Mosul. He was a pupil of Abraham bar Dishandadh (see above, p. Non,-
844) at tho same time with Abu Niih al-Anbari (see above, p. 845,
note 3) and Timothy, his predecessor in the dignity of catholicus (seo
above, p^ 845). He retired first to tho convent of Mar Abraham on
Mount Izla, where he devoted liimself to study and to refuting the
views and writings of his schoolfellow and subsequent diocesan
Timothy, whom he spitefully called Talim-ot/uos ("the wronger
of God ") instead of Timothcos. In consequence of a dispute with.
the monks he left Mount Izla and went for some months to Bagh-
dadh, where ho stayed at tho house of George Masawaihi (Misuyah
or Mesne) and taught his son Yahyil.'' He then returned to Mosul,
where he took up his residence in the convent of Mar Elias, and
lived there for thirty years, till tho death of Timothy. '° Through
the influence of Gabriel bar Bokht-isho" (see above) and his son-
in-law Michael bar Masawaihi (Masuyah or Mesne), the physician
of the caliph al-Ma'mun, he was appointed catholicus A.Gr. 1135
-2 Kdit. Bactligen, p. 32 ; see Hotlniann, Upu^c. ^alor., p. xvii.
M noffinann, Opusc. Nest., pp. 2-49 ; sec DO., ii. 308, col. 2, and Cod. Berlin,
Sachau 72, No. 14. There is also a MS. in the collection of the S.P.C.K.
24 Cod. Vat. cxcii. (Catal., iii. 409), Syntagma Mtdicum Syr, tt Arab., is not
likely to be his, but requires closer examination.
-3 This is a largo subject, into which wc cannot here enter, the morfi so as It
pertains rather to a history of Arabic than of Syriac literature. Wo would rtfcr
the n:.ulor to Wiistenfcld, Geschichte d. arao. Aerzte u. Naltirjorschfr, 1840;
Kliigcl, Dissert, de Arabicis Scriplorun Grncorum lulerprelibu.^, 1841 ; Wrnrich,
Dc Auctoruni Gratcorun yersionibuj et Commenlariis, 1842 : Rcnan, De rftdofo-
phia Peripaletica apud Syros, 1352, sc^t. viii. p. 51 ; At-Farabi (Alpharatnus^
dcs Arab. Phito^ophrn Lcb'^n «. Scliriften, by M. Steinschncidcr, 1860 ; A. Mullcr,
Die Griechischen Ptiitosophen in der arabischm Uebertirfrrunq, 1873. Of Mutinm.
madan authorities two of tho most important arc tho >irtrt,<( of Abu 'l-partj
Muhammad ibn Isliilk ai-Warrilc al-HaKlul.Vllii, commonly e.-iH-d Ilui Abl
Ya'kilh an-Nadlm (died early in the 11th eentur>-), and Uie "/ n
Tubttkiil n(.y|(ih6aof Muwatlak ad-Dln Aba 'l-'Abb-iH Ahnikd r . i-
Sa'di al-Khaznyi, generally known by tlio uamo of Ibn Abi I in
1269). Tho fonncr work lias been edited by Klugol,J. Budlger.and A. .M illcr,
1871-72. tho latter by A. Muller. 1881.
M S'e Ibn Abi Unaibi'ah, cd. Muller, 1. 127 ; WUstenfeld, (7«c». if. arab. Aersltj
No. 28 ; Bar-Hebnius, Cliron. Syr., pp. 139-140, 170 (RO., II. 271, note, coL 1)J
and Hiil. Dyiiasl., 235, 264. ^ B.O., Ul. 1, M8.
-« CuTnparo (Icsenius, be BA et Bit, p. 7.
so See Ucsenius, op. ri(., p. 8 ; 11.0., Iii. 1, !S8.
30 n.O., HI. I. 437, 438, note 2. '
31 See the Filirisl, p. 263 : Ibn Abi Ujaibi'all, cd. MUlliT, I. SM-9.W.
•» HO., III. I, 257 ; Oesenius, op. ri(., cap. II. U C ' ' — rll., n. 14;
>4 Ibid., p. 21; SCO Uoirinann, Syrltcli-arabitfhe CI 1 I'ayn*
Smith. V)i«.S!fr., pasnim. _ 35 Sco /!.() .
•3« So AsBcmanl, B.O., li. 435. Bar-Hcbncus (CSron, ;...-. ./"r« Ui»t
he resided for thlrty-clght yc«r« In the convent of Ba'id nctr Mo«"'
848
SYRIAC LITERATURE
^
[yiH CKNT.-
= 823-824 A.D.' He sat for only four years, and was buried, like
his predecessor, in the convent of Kelil-isho' at Baghdadh. Of his
ill-feeling towards Timothy I. we have already made mention ;
how he kept it up after Timothy's death, and what troubles he got
into in consequence, may be r-ead in the pages of Assemani (S. 0.,
iii. 1, 165). Bar-Hebrseus hus preserved some a''Count of a disputa-
tion between liim and a Moni>puysite priest named Papi.- 'Abhd-
ish5" gives the following list -of his works ' — a treatise on theology,
questions on the whole text of Scripture, in two volumes, a collec-
tion of ecclesiastical canons and decisions,* consolatory discourses,
epistles, a treatise on the division of the services, turgdme or
"interpretations,"' and a tract on the efficacy of hymns and
anthems. Of the questions on Scripture there is a copy in the col-
lection of the S. P. C. K. , and of the consolatory discourses a mutilated
MS. in the British Museum, Add. 17217 ("Wright, Catal, p. 613).«
The replies to the questions of Macarius the monk seem to belong to
:he treatise on the division of the services {purrdsh teshmishatha),
if one may judge by the first and only one quoted.'
A disciple of Isho' bar Non was Denha, or, as he is otherwise
called in some MSS. of 'Abhd-ish6"s Catalogue, Ihibha (or rather
Hibha, Ibas).' Assemani places him under the catholicus Pethion
(died in 740), but we prefer to follow the authority of John bar Zo'bi
in his Oraminar.^ Denlia was the author of sermons and tracts on
points of ecclesiastical law, and of commentaries on the Psalms, on
the works of Gregory Nazianzen (as contained in two vols, in the
translation of the abbot Paul), and on the dialectics of Aristotle.
Thomas In 217 A.H. = 832 A.D., the same year in which Sabhr-isho' II.
OfMarga. succeeded to the patriarchate,'" a young man named Thomas,, the
son of one Jacob of Beth Sherwanaye, in the district of Salakh,"
entered the convent of Beth 'Abhe, which seems at this time to
have fallen off sadly in respect of the learning of its inmates." A
few years afterwards (222 a.h. = 837 a.d.) we find him acting as
secretary to the patriarch Abraham (also a monk of Beth 'Abhe,
who sat from 837 to 850)." By him he was promoted to be bishop
of Marga, and afterwards metropolitan of Beth Garmai, in which
capacity he was present at the ordination of his own brother Theo-
dosius (bishop of al-Anbar, afterwards metropolitan of Gunde-
Shabhor) as catholicus in 852.'* Thomas of JIarga (as he is com-
monly called), having been very fond from his youth of the legends
and histories of holy men, more especially of those connected with
his own convent of Beth 'Abhe, undertook to commit them to
writing at the urgent request of the monk 'Abhd-isho', to whom
he dedicates the Mcmaslic History. Assemani has given a toler-
ably full analysis of this work, with a few extracts, in the £.0.,
iii. 1, 464-501, throughout which volume it is one of his chief
authorities. The publication of it in a complete form is much to
be desired. The MSS. available in Europe are — Cod. Vat. clxv.
ICatal., iii. 331), of which Codd. Vatt. ccclxxxi.-ii. are a copy (Mai,
Scriptt. Felt. Nova Coll., v.) ; Paris, No. 28? in Zotenberg's Catal.,
p. 216 (also copied from Tat. clxv..) ; Brit. Mus. Orient. 2316 (S.
1S2, 17th century, imperfect) ; Berlin, Sachau 179 (copied in 1882).
Thomas also wrote a poem in twelve-syllable metre on the life and
deeds of' Maran-'ammeh, metropolitan of Hsdhaiyabh, which he
introduced into his Eistory, bk. iii. ch. 10 ; see B^O., iii. 1, 485.
?sho'- Isho'-dadh of Marii or Merv, bishop of Hedhatta or al-Hadithah,
/ladh of was a competitor with Theodosius for the patriarchate in 852.""
Merr. According to 'Abhd-isho', his principal work was a commentary on
the New Testament, of which there are MSS. in Berlin, Sarhau 311,
and in the collection of the S.P.C.K. It extended, however, to the
Old Testament as well, for in Cod. Vat. cccclvii. we find the portions
relating to Genesis and Exodus.''
In the B.O., iii. 1, 213, 'Abhd-isho' names a certaiii Eendi as
the author of a lengthy disputation on the faith." Assemani
places this "Candius" or "Ebn Cauda" under the catholicus
John IV., apparently on the authority of 'Amr ibn Matta. We sus-
pect, however, that the person meant is 'Abd al-Masih (Ya'kiib) ibn
Ishak al-Kindi, the author of a well known apology for the Christian
religion, which has been published by the Society' for Promoting
Christian Knowledge.'* The work dates from the time of the caliph
' Bar-Hebrffius {loc. a(.)says 205 a.h. = 820-821 A.D. ; see above, p. 845.
- Chron. Ecctes., ii. 183-187.
3 B.O.. iii. 1, 165-166. 'Amr ibn Itatta says that be wrote a commentaiy on
Theologus, i.e., Gregory Nazianzen, B.O., iii, 1, 262, note 1.
* Compare B.O., iii. 1, 279. 6 See Badger, The Nestorians, ii. 19.
6 The pious Monophysites of Sfc Mary Deipara cut up this volume for bind-
ing, &c., as they did some other Nestorian books of value in their library. .
7 Cod.Vat. Ixuviii. 6(Ca(a!.,ii. 4S3); c\. S{Calal., in. iSl); clncivii. 5(Ca(aI.,
iii. 405). Assemani supposes that the next article in clixjrv-ii. does not belong to
Theodore of Mopsuestia, but is taken from Isho' bar Non's questions ouScriptui'e.
8 B.O., iii. 1, 175. 8 Wright, Catal., p. 1176, coL 1.
J» B.O., ii. 435; iii. 1, 605 sg.
" Ihid., iii. 1, 479 ; HofFraann, AusHige, pp. 244-2^5.
12 B.Q., iii. 1, 488 ; comp. the ordinance of Sabhr-isho', pp. 505-506.
" B.U., iii.ltS04-cel. 1, 488 col. 2, 490 col. 2.
'4 Ihid., iii. 1, 210, 510 col. 2. " Tbid., iii. 1, 210-212.
'6 Mai, Scriptt. Vett. Nova Coll., v. The name of the author is there given as
lesciuaad, doubtless a misprint for dad. We are therefore surprised to find
Martin writing " Ichou-had 6veque d'Hadeth," Inlrod. a la Critique Textuelle
du Nouveau Test., p. 99. 17 The correct re&ding is dhe-hdimanHthd.
18 The Apology of El-Kindi, 1SS5. An English transUltion appeared In 1882,
Tht Analogy of At-Kindy, &c., by Sir W. Muir.
sl-Ma'miin (813-833), and therefore synchronizes with the dispnt*'
tions of Theodore Abu Korrah, bishop of Harran." Being written
in Arabic, it hardly belongs to this place, but is mentioned to
aroid misapprehension.
Theodore bar Khoni is stated to have been promoted by his nncia
John IV. to the bishopric of Lashom in 893.^' He was the author
of scholia (on the Scriptures), an ecclesiastical history, and some
minor works.
To about this period probably belongs another historian, the loss
of whose work we have to regret. This is a writer named AhroD
or Aaron, who is mentioned bv Elias bar Shinaya imder 273 A.H. =
886-887 A.D.=' ■
In the 10th century the tale of Jacobite authors dwindles away
to almost nothing. Most of the dignitaries of the church composed
their synodical epistles and other official writings in Arabic, and
the same may be said of the men of science, such as Abu 'All 'Isa
ibn Isliak ibn Zur'ah (943-1008) and Abii Zakariya Yahya ibn
'Adi, who died in 974 at the age of eighty -one. About the
middle of the century we may venture to place the deacon Siineon, Simeon,
whose Chronicle is cited by Elias bar Shinaya under 6 a.h. =627- the dea-
628 A.D. and 310 = 922-923.'" The 11th century is somewhat more con.
prolific.
A Persian Christian named Gisa," leaving his native city of
TJshniikh or XJ.shnii in Adharbaigan, settled, after several removals,
in the district of Giibos or Gubas,-* one of the seven dioceses of
the province of Melitene (Malatiah), and built there a humble
church, in which he deposited sundry relics of St Sergius and St
Bacchus, and cells for himself and his three companions. . This
happened in 958.'° As the place grew in importance, other monks
gradually resorted to it, and among them "Mar(i) Yohannan de- John ol
JIaron," or John (the son) of Maron,"' a man of learning in both Maron.
sacred and profane literature, who had studied under Mar Mekim
at Edessa. O'sa, the founder of the conveut, died at the end of
twelve years, and was succeeded as abbot by his disciple Elias, who
beautified the church. Meantime its fame increased as a seat of
learning under the direction of John of Maron, and many scribes
found employment there. The patriarch John VII., da-sHrighld,
" He of the Mat" (his only article of furniture),'' was one of its
visitors. Elias, on his retirement, nominated John of Maron as
his successor, who, aided by the munificence of Emmanuel, a monk
of Harran and a disciple of the maphrian CjTiacus,'' rebuilt the
church on a larger and finer scale, whilst a constant supply of fresh
water was provided at the cost of a Taghritan merchant named
Mariitha. This was in 1001. About this time Elias bar Gaghai,
a monk of Taghrith, founded a monastery near Melitene, but died
before it was finished. His work was taken up by one Eutychn?
or Kulaib, who persuaded John of Maron to jpin him. Here again
his teaching attracted numbers of pupils. At last, after the lap.:o
of twelve years, when there were 120 priests in the convent, he
suddenly withdrew by. night from the scene of his labours and
retired to the monastery of Mar Aaron near Edessa, where he died
at the end of four years, about 1017. His commentary on the
book of Wisdom is cited by Bar-Hebrseus in the Ausar lidse.'^
Mark bar Kiki was archdeacon of the Taghritan church at Mosul, Mark."
and was raised to the dignity of maphrian by the name of Ignatius Ekl.
in 991." After holding this office for twenty-five years, he became
a Muhammadan in 1016," but recanted before his death, which took
place at an advanced age '* in great poverty. tHe composed a- poem
on his own fall, misery, and subsequent repentance, of which Bar-
Hebrasus has preserved a few lines."
According to Assemani, B.O., ii. 317 and cl., Bar-Hebraeus men- Joseph
tions in his Chronicle that a monk named Joseph wrote three dis- of MeB-
courses on the cruel murder of Peter the deacon by the Turks at tene.
Melitene in 1058. The anecdote may be found in the edition of
Bruns and Kirsch, p. 252 (transl , p. 258), but the discourses would
seem rather to have dealt with tLe retribution that overtook the re-
tiring Turks at the handsof the Armenians and the wintry weather.
Yeshii' bar Shiishan (or Susanna), syncellus of Theodore or John
IX., was chosen patriarch by the eastern bishops, under the namt
of John X., in opposition to Haye or Atlianasius VI., on whom the
■ choice of their western brethren had fallen in 1058." He soon abdi-
cated, however, retired to a convent, and devoted himself to study.
19 See Zotenberg, Catal, No. 204, 1 and S, and No. 205.
2i> B.O., ii. 440; iii. 1, 198. 2' See Baethgen, FragTitente, p. 3.
22 Ibid., p. 2 ; Bar-Hebraeua, Chron. Ecclts., ii. 126, note 1.
23 Others ^vrite Gaiyiisa,
24 Bar-Hebneus, Chron. Ecdts., i. 401 sq. ; B.O., ii. 283, 350.
25 B. 0. , ii. 260. Gubos was on the right bank of the Euphrates, iKtween tjie
plain of Melitene and Claudia.
26 Abbeloos, in a note on Bar-Hebrseus, Chron. Eccles. , i. 404, raises the question
what connexioi' there- may be between this historical personage and the eoma-
what shadowy 'Joannes 3Iaro," to whom Assemani has devoted a large space,
B.O., i. 496-520. . 2? B.O., ii. 182, 351. 28 fiid., ii. 442.
29 B.O., ii. 283 ; see also p. cl.
30 Bar-Hebraus, Chron. Ecctes., ii. 257 ; B.O., ii. 443,
31 See Baethgen, Fragmente, pp. 105, 153 ; B.O., iii. 2S9, note 1.
32 According to Cardahi, Liber Thesauri, p. 140, in 1030 or 10401
33 Chron. Eeclcs., ii. 289; B.O., ii. 443, and also p. cl.
31 Bar-Hebraeus, Chrom, EccUs., i. 437 sq.; B.O., ii. 141 (wbere there are vnan,
see Add., p. 475), 354.
Uth cent.]
SYRIAC LITERATURE
848
On tha death of Athanasius he was reelected patriarch in 1064, and
sat till 1073.' Ho carried on a coutroversy with the patriarch of
Alexandria, Chrlstodulus, regarding the rai.ting of salt and oil with
the Eucharistio bread according to the Syrian practice.-. He com-
piled an anaphora, issued a collection of twenty-four canons,' and
wrote many epistles,'' chieHy controversial. Such are the letters in
Arabic to Christodulus on the oil and salt' and the letter to the
catholicus of the Armenians.' The tract on the oil and salt is ex-
tant in Paris, Anc. fonds 54 (Zot^nberg, Calal., p. 71), and tliere
19 an extract from it in Suppl. 32 (Zotenberg, Catal., p. 54). Bar-
Shiishan also wrote four poems on the sack of llelitene by the Turks
in 1058,' and collected and arranged the works of Ephraim and
Isaac of Antioch, which he had begun to write out with his own
band when he was interrupted by death.'
Sa'id bar Sabuni lived during the latter part of the llth century.
He was versed in Greek as well as Syriac, and well known as a
literary man,' especi.ally as a WTiter of hymns.'" The patriarch
Athanasius VII. Aha '1-Faraj bar KUamni.are (1091-1129) raised him
to the office of bishop of Mel tene (Malatiah) in October 1094. His
consecration took place at Kankerath, near Amid, by the name of
John, and he set out for Malatiah, which he entered on the very
day that the gates were closed to keep out the Turks, who laid siege
to it under Kilij Arslan (Da'iid ibn Sulaiman), suItSn of Iconiura.
He was murdered during the course of the siege, in July 1095, by the
Greek commandant Gabriel."
The Nestcrian writers of these two centuries are both more numer-
ous and more«important than the Jacobite.
X We may place at the head of our list the name of Henan-isho' bar
roah- Saroshwai, who must have lived (juite early in. the lOth century, as
i. he 1.9 cited by Elias of Anbar, who wrote about 922."' Hewasbishop
of Herta (al-Hirah), and published questions on the text of Scrip-
ture and 9 vocabulary with glosses or explanations," wliicli is con-
stantly cited by his successor in this department of scholarship, Bar
Bahlul.'*
t With Bar Siroshwai.we naturally connect Isho' bar Bahliil; in
hlQl. Arabic Abu'l-Hasan 'Isa ibn al-Bahlul, the fullest and most valu-
able of Syriac lexicographers. His date is fixed by that of the elec-
tion of the catholicus 'Abhd-ish6"I., in which he bore a part, in 9G3.''
'Abhd-isho' iii his Catalogue, B.O., iii. 1, 2G1, mentions an author
ibxiidh. Abhziidh, a teacher in some school or oollege [esholaija), who com-
posed a treatise containing demonstrations on various topics, alnha-
betically arranged and dedicated to his friend Kurti.'" In note 5
Assemani makes the very circumstantial statement, but without
giving his authority, that Abhzudh.was head of the college founded
at Baghdadh about 832 by Sabhr'-isho' II. ," under Sergius (860-872).
But, if this writer be identical, as seems probable, with the Bazudh
who was the author of a Book of Definitions described at some
length by Hoffmann, De Hcrvieneuticis apud Si/ros Arislotehis, pp.
151-153, we must place him nearly a century later, because he cites
the "scholia" of Theodore bar Khoni, who was appoirted bishop
of Lashom in 893." The whole matter is, however, very obscure,
and Hoffmann has subsequently (Opusc. Nestor., p. xxii.) sought to
identify Baziidh, who was also called Michael [ibid., p. xxi. , with
the Michael who is mentioned as a commentator on the Scriptures
by 'Abhd-isho', B.O., iii. 1, 147, and whom Assemani supposed to be
the same as Michael bishop of al-Ah^,az (died in 852 or 854)." All
then that appears to be certain is that the Persian Baziidh al^o bore
the Christian name of Michael, and that, besides the alphabetically
arranged demonstrations and the Book of Definilimis, he composed
a tract on man as the microcosm.^"
B( ol Elias, bishop of Peroz-Shabhor or al-Anbar, flourished about 922,
A,<bar. as appears from his dispu^s with the catholicus Abraham (905-937),"
and Ms account of the miserable bishop Theodore of BC-tli Garmai,
who, after his deposition by John bar llijghire (900-905) and subse-
quent absolution by Abraham, became a Muhammadan.-^ He was
1 Bar.Hebrxus, Chron. Ecdts., i. 445 ; CO., ii. 143 (whore there are again uiany
enora, see Add., p. 475), 355. 2 B.O., ii. 144, 350.
> Bar-Hebrteua, Ckron. Ecclts., i. 446 ; B.O., ii. 355.
< Bar.Hebraus, Chron. Ecdei., i. 447 ; B.O., il. 355.
» B.O., ii. 608, col. 2. e Ibid., ii. 211, 383 ; Berlin, Sachau 00, 1.
7 Bar.Hobra;u», Chron. Syr., p. 252 (transl., p. 258) ; E.O., ii. 317.
' BariHobracus, Chron, Halts., i. 447 ; li.O., ll. 355.
9 Bar.Hebra;u3, Chron. Eccles., i. 4C3 ; U.O., ii. 211-212.
10 Sec one of these, an acrostic canon, used in the service of the assumption
of the monastic garb, in Cod, Vat. Ii. tCatal., ii. 321, No. 31), lirlt. Mus, 17232
(WriRlit, Catal., p. 372, No. 22), Paris, Suppl. 38 (Zotenberg, Calal.. p. 74. No.
34), Bodl. Hunt. 444 (P. Smith, Cain/., p. 243, No. 0).
U Bar-Uebraua, Chron. Stir., pp. 278.279 (transl., pp. 284-285).
U B.O., iii. 1, 200, col. 2, at foot.
•s Ilashhatha are x/ifjufit and X^ffis ; see Hoffmann, Opusc. Ntstor., f. xiii.
14 BO., iii. 1, 261 ; see P.iync Smith, Tha. Syr., passim.
I» Bar.Hcuraius, C/iron. Kcc(M..iii.251 ; B.O., ii. 442,iii. I,200eol. 2; Ccscnius,
Dt BA et BB, p. 20; see Piiyne Smith, Tha. Syr., passim. An edition of his
I.exiam: byAI. P.. Duval, is now (1837) being printed in Paris et the expense
of the KretjV.„ Government.
W B.O., m ',201. 17 Ibid., ii. 435. n See above, p. 848.
>0 B.O., ill. 1, 210, note 2, col. 2, Michacl'a JJooit o/ Qucstioru is quoted by
Solomon of a! Bosrah in The Bee, cd. Budge, p. 135.
*> lioffmann, o;). cit., p. xxi.
" B.O., iii. 1, 258, note 3 ; Baothgon, Fragnunle, pp. 64, 141.
a J).0.. ill. 1,231, col. 1, at foot.
the author of a collection of metrical discourses in three volumes," air
apology, epistles, and homilies."
George, metropolitan of Mosul and Arbel, was promoted to this George
dignity by the catholicus Emmanuel about 945, and died after 987. of Mo.sul
He contested the patriarchate three times but in vain, viz., — in 961, nnd
when Isra'el was elected,^ in 963, when 'Abdh-ishO' I. was the ArbiH.
successful candidate,-' and in 987, when the choice of the synod
fell on Mari bar "Tobi." His chief work was an exposition of the
ecclesiastical offices for the whole year, in seven section.?, of which
Assemani has given a full analysis inB.O,, iii. 1, 518-540.^ Some
specimens of his tin-gam': or hymns may be found in Codd. Vatt. xc.
and xci. {Catal., ii. 487, No. 27, and 490, No. 24), and Berlin, Sachaa
167, 2.
The date of Emmanuel bar Shahharc^ is fixed by his presence at
the consecration of 'Abhd-isho' I. in 963.'° He was teacher in the
school of Mar Gabriel in the. convent called the Daira 'EUaita at
Mosul. Cardahi places his death in 980. '' Besides some minor
expository treatises, he wTote a huge work on the Uexaemeron or
six days of creation.'- Tlie Vatican JIS.» contains twenty-eighj
discourses, of which the second is wanting, and a twenty-nintli is
added On Baptism. It is dated 1707. Tlie MS; in the Brit
Mus., Oriept. 1300, dated 1685, also contains twenty-eight dia-
courses, of which th" second is wanting.'* Some of them arc in
seven-syllable, otbe.s in twelve-syllable metre." Cardahi has pub-
lished a spccime .n his Liber Thesauri, pp. 68-71. Emnianuers
brother, 'Abhd-isho' bar Shahhaie, is mentioned by Assemani, B.O.,
iii. 54(^, and bv Cardahi. The latter has printed part of one of his
poems, on Micliael of Amid, a companion of MarEugenius, in Libar
Thcs luri, pp. 136-137. . It is taken from Cod. Vat. clxxxiv. (Catal,
iii. 395). But there the author is called Bar Shi'arah, Oli^^Aj^
and is said to have been a monk of the convent cff Jlichael (at JIosul).
Somewhere about the end of this century wo may venture to Andreas
place a writer named Andrew, to whom 'Abhd-Uho' lias given a er
place in his Catalogue, and wliom Assemani has chosen to identify Andrew.
with the.wellknown Amliev, bishop of Samos.lta, the opponent
of Cyril of Alexandria.'" The words of 'Abhd-isho', if we understand
theui rightly, mean that tliis Andrew wrote turgdme (or hymns of
a p.irticular kind) and a work on puhham seydmcj tlie placing of
the diacritical and vowerpointsand marks of iutcrpunction." He
was therefore an inoffensive graminaiian.
Elias, tlie first Nestoiian catholicus of the name, was a native of Eli.as 1.,
Karkha dhc-Gheddan," was trained in Baghdadh and al-JIadain, Nestor-
and became bishop of firhan, wlience he was advanced to thoiancatb-
primacy in 1028, and sat'till 1049." According to 'Abhil-isho', ho olicus.
compiled canons and ecclesiastical decisions, and composed gram-
matical tracts."" According to Mari ibn Sulaiman,''' ho wiis th
author of a work on the principles of religion in twenty -twv
chapters, which may be identical with the second of tlie above,
and of a form of consecration of the altar (kuddds al-inadhbah).
His Grammar was composed in his younger days, before he became
bishop.- It has been edited and translated from a MS. at Berlin*"
by Baethgen."' A tract of his on the diacritical points and marks
of interpunction is cited and used by John bar Zo'bi."
Abu Sa'id 'Abhd-isho' bar Bahriz.was abbot of the convent of 'Abhd-
Elias or Sa'id at Mosul, and a candidate for the patriarchate when isho' bar
Elias I. was elected in 1028. He was subsequently promoted to Baliriz.
be metropolitan of Athor or Mosul." He collected ecclesiastical
canons and decisions,"' wrote on the law of inheritance,-" and an
exposition of the offices of tlie cliurch.
Assem.ani has assigned the same date to Daniel (the son) ofD.iniolof
TCibhanitlii, bishop of Tahal in Beth Garmai, but without any Talial.
sullicient reason."^ If he be really identical with the Daniel to
23 U.O., iii. 1,266.200; Cod. Vat. clxxxiii. (c'ofal., iij. 3S3); Berlin, Sacliau
132; collection of the S.P.C.K. ; Cardalii, Liber Thesauri, pp. 72-76.
2< In Cod. V.it. xci. (Calal., ii. 491, No. 35) there is a homily ascribed to Eliaa
of Anhir, but the Syriac text has Paul. 25 B.O., ii. 412.
-H Ibid., ii. 442 ; iii. J, 200, col. 2. 27 Ibid., ii. 443.
-3 See also Codd. Vatt. cxlviii., cxlix.,an(l cllil.in Calal., iii. 277 S7. In Cod.
Vat. cl. (Calal., iii. 2S0; lluie are questions regarding vanoUK scivices, baptism,
and communion at Easter.
2J Sec B.O., iii. 1, 540. In Arabic ashShahhSr or, according to another rcad-
iap, a^ih■Sha"Sr (see end of this paragraph). . 30 u.o., Iii, 1, 200, col. 2.
" Liber Thesauri, p. 71. 3- ll.O., iii. 1, 277. 33 No. clxxxii., Calal., iii. 380.
34 There arc two MSS. in Berlin, Sachau 1001 70 and 300.310 (see Sachau, Reite,
pp. 361.365), and one in the Cidicetion of the S. P.C.K.
35 In the MS. Ill it. Mus. it is said that tliis is only the fourth volun.e of tlio
BexaimeroH.l^a.^ ZliAJ likSj^ l^.S.Sj )A„.ai3
S8 B.O., Iii. 1,202. " * *
>7 Sec Hoirmann, Opusc. Kestor., pp. vii., fill. And so Abraham EcchcUenalt
rendered the words, libriim de ratinne punetandi.
>'> In Arabic Korkli Jiiildiin, in Beth Garmai ; sec Iloffinnnn, Ausnioi, pp.
254 275. M B 0., iii. 202203 ; Barllcbrrous, CAron. EiXles., ii. 235.28/,
*> yj.O., iii. 1,205. « /6l</., p. 203, col, I.
" Alter Dostand 36, 15, in A'tirrM I'crMit^nijj, ic., p. 31.
43 .Syrische Grammatik dts Mar Elias von Tirhan, 1880.
« Sue no.. Ill, 1, 205, note 7; Calal. r<c(,, ill. 411 (uildcr No. il.); Wrieht.
Ca(a(., |>. 1176,col.2. " /t,o., iii. 1, 20;I20(
« ll.O.; iii. I, 279. 47 Ibid., p. 267, cd. 2, lin. penult.
4a riiat ho follovra.'AWidlsho' txir Balirli in the Calahiitte of 'Abhd.Ish6' It
no ovldtnce whatever »» to his dale ; md the work mentioned In U.O., ill. I
174, Holes 3 and 4 ia not by Bar Bahrli, but by Oenrgc of Mosul and Arbel
(500 CjU. Vat. cliil,),
XXTT. — 107
SYRIAC LITERATURE
850
whom George, metropolitan of Mosul and Arbel, dedicated his ex-
position of the offices of the church, he must have lived about the
middle of the previous century. He wrote funeral sermons, metri-
cal homilies, answers to Scriptural questions and enigmas, and
other stuff of the same sort. More important probably were liis
"Book of Flowers," Kithdhha dhS-IIaibal>hc, whicli m.ny'have been
a poetical florilegium ; his Sohition of the Questions in the Fifth
Volume of Isaac of Nineveh's Works; and his commentary on the
Bends of Knowlcd'je or maxims (of Evagrins).'
Conspicuous among the writers of this century is Elias bar
Shinaya, who was born in 975,= adopted the monastic life in the
eonvent of Michael at Mosul under the abbot John the Lame ^and
was ordained priest by Nathaniel, bishop of Shcnn.a (as-Sinn)' who
afterwards became catholicus under the name of John V. (1001-12).-'
Elias was subsequently in the convent of Simeon on the TiTis
opposite Shenna, and was made bishop of Beth Nuhadhre in 1002.=
At the end of 1008 he was .advanced to the dignity of metropolitan
of Kisibis.« 'With the next patriarch, John YI. bar Nazol (1012-20),'
previously bishop of Herta, he was on good terms ; but he set his
face against Isho'-yabh bar Ezekiel (1020 25).8 Under Elias I.
(1028-49) all seems to have been quiet again. That our author
survived this patriarch is clear from his own words in J3 0 iii 1
268, col. 2, 11. 19, 20.8 His greatest work is the Annals or
Chronicle, of winch unfortunately only one imperfect copy exists "
Baethgenhas published extracts from it under the title of i^my-
mente syr. u. drab. JSistoriker, 18S4, which have enabled scholars
to recognize its real importance." The exact date of the Annals,
and probably of the writing of the unique copy, is fixed by the
statement of the author, f 15b, that John, bishop of Herta was
ordained catholicus on Wednesday, 19th of the latter Teshrin
A. Gr. 1324 (19th November 1012 a.d.), and that h' still ruled
the Aestoriau Church "dcvn to this year in which this work was
composed, namely, A. Gr. 1330" (1018-19). >2 After the Annals
we xn:iy mention Elias's S>riac grammar, one of the best of the
Kestormn writings on the subject, " and his Arabic-SjTiac vocabu-
lary, Kitdb at-Tarjamanfi ta'Hm highat as-Suryan or " the Inter-
preter, to teach the Syriac Language." It has been edited by De
Lagardc in his Prxicrmissorum Libri Duo, 1879, and was the store-
house from which Thomas a Novaria derived his Thesaurus Arahico-
Syro-Lutinus, 1636. . Elias was also a composer of hymns, some of
.■which occur in the Nestorian service-books," and of metrical
^omilies, apparently of an artificial character." He edited four
Tolumes of decisions in ecclesiastical law, which are often cited
py 'Abhd-isho' of Nisibis in his CoUcctio Canonum Synodicorum'^;
indeed the third section, "On the Division of Inheritances," is en-
tirely borrowed from the work of Elias." Of his epistles that to
the bishops and people of Baghdadh on the illegal ordination of
Isho'-yabh bar Ezekiel is preserved in Cod. Vat. cxxix. {Calal, iii.
191)." Six of his Arabic dissertations have been described by
Assemani in the B. 0., iii. 1, 270-272. The most important of them
appears to bo No. 5, a disputation, in seven sessions or chapters,
with the vizir Abu '1-Kasim al-Husain ibn 'Ali al-JIaghribi, pre-
ceded by a letter to the secretary Abu 'l-'Ala Sa'id ibn Sahh These
meetings took place in 1026, and the work was'committed to wTiting
in 1027, after the death of the vizir at Maiyafarikin in October,
and published with the approbation of the celrbratcd commentator,
philosopher, and lawyer Abu '1-Faraj 'Abdalluh ibn at-Taivib,'' who
was secietary to the patriarch Elias I. The anonymous' work de-
scribed jn full by Assemani {K 0., iii. 1, 303-306) under the title of
Kitabu 'l-Burhdn 'aid sahlhi (or rather/^ tashlhi) 'l-lmdn, "The
Demonstration of the Truth of the Faith," is also by him.'"
Here we may pause in our enumeration to cast an eye upon some
J P.O., iii. 1, 174. 2 Rosen, Catal., p. 89. col.'2.
3 £.0., iii. 1, 2GGnote 3, 271 col. 1.
< B.ietliKvn, Fmgme:tte, pp. 101, 151 ; 104, 153 ; compare Bar-Hebrrens. Ch'on.
Eor?«., u. 261, 281 : .B.a, ii. 444.
5 Baethgen, Fragmnte. pp. 101, 152. 6 Ibid., pp. 103 152.
I Jbid., pp. 104. 153; Ba.r-Hebraius, Chron. Ecdes., u. 283; B.O.fii 440
8 B.O., iii. 1, 272.
s Consetinently the statement in B.O., ii. 447, is inaccurate. CardShI (Liber
TAcsaHri, p. 84) names 1C9P. '
10 Brit. .Mils. Add. 719r(R.isen, Calal., pp. 80-90 ; Wriglit, Catal., p. 1206). "
n Baethpen has overloolicd Wright's Calal.. p. 1200, and the plate in the
Oriental Series of the Palirographical Socieln, No. Ixxvi. The SjTiac text was
evidently written l.y an amanuensis, whereas the older Arabic text was prob-
ably written by Elms iiimself. "
il There arc some extracts from the Annuls in Berlin, Sachau 108 2
" There are .MSS. in the Brit. JIus. Add. 25S70, Or. 2314 (frag.)'; Vat. Cod
cxciy. (Cn)fi;., i„. 410), Codd. rcccx. ccccl. (Mai, Scriptt. Vett. Nova Coll. v )•
P;ilat. > eilic ccclxi. (rn/f.(., p. 4!!i) ; Berlin, Sachau 5, 2, also 216, 1. and 306, 1 ;
"■, . "J .*''» ^"Il^fction of the S.P.C.K. Part of the work (sections 1-4) has bieu
edited by Hr. R. Gottheil, Leipsic. ISSO.
H. 491), .\os. 12. 14, 11,, 1, ; B.rlin, S.ichan 04, 10.
,.1 i.P"'.'.'^'i"';J''-'"< ,"''■,",'*■• <'^'""'- •''■ 2"°>' ■'' P"^" "" •l'^ '»" "f Icarnins, in
-fiiicli tb.. i,-Hrr .\l:ipli does not occur. It is printed by C.irdnhi in the Liber
' 1- T n' ''';■ f'"- ,.n ■,, ■ " '*'^'' ■5''"'>"- '''"• ^'"'o C'rf.-., X.
IB f,",v" •'■■-"• --M: Jtai.-n,.. ^,^, T. pp. 64. 220. 18 &0., iii. 1, 272-273,
K^ll'.T, "W-°^^'- ','' r-°-\ '" '■^-'■': Wustenfeld, fiwcA. d. „ra(.. ^fr.-/«,
^"■.V; • "'." •*^' °"''" ■''''. <•''• iluller, i. 239 ; Bar-Hebr.Tus, Hist. DvnasI
p. 3.. (traiisl p. 233) ; r/„-„„. s^r p. 239 (tran.I., p. 244) ; Cliro,.. Eceles., ii. 283!
£iu-li iw/i Ua-LiMrier llalirlieUd. Glauheiis, Colm.ir, ISSO.
[10th cext.
anonymous translations which we are inclined to ascribe to the 10th Anony
and nth centuries, and which are interesting as showing what the mo™
popular literature of the Syrians uas, compafed with thf t of heir t ,aSla
theologians and men of scieupe. inc.. lunwia
We have already spoken of the older translation of Kalllagh viS- ic^hlah
Damnagh made by the periodeutes B5dh in the 6th century of our ™ ot»
era (see above, p. 837) About the middle of the 8th century there ^A
'lEd^^l 1 "i "'fT','^'"^ ^?.''= '■■''"^l-tio" from the Pahlavi by
Abdallah Ibn al.Mukaffa', which, under the name ot Kalllah wl
Om,a/, has been the parent of secondary versions in the Syriac,
Peisian, Greek, Hebrew, and Spanish languages. =^1 The Svriac
version was cliscovered by the present writer in a unique MS. i^
RRl ' '"t^ • ^•\"'V; ^1"'«'' P""'"' ""^I Published by him in
*;™ 1 ♦? ^"'•'^"tly the work of a Christian priest, living at a '
time when the condition of the Syrian Church was one of great
degrad.ation and the power of the caliphate on the wane, so that
the state of society was that of complete disorder and licentious-
iiess,-^ a description which would very well apjdy to the 10th or
nth century. Lidecd we could not place it much later, because
part of the unique MS. goes back to the 13th century, and even
Its text IS very corrupt, showing that it had passed through the
hands of several generations of scribes. "The chief value of this
t^A V V''"n V.'"".'','.'''''' "°''>'°" t''^ °"ginal text of
the Arabic^, w. D.- The Arabic text which the SyriSc translator
had before him must have been a better one than De Sacv's, because
numbers of Guidi s extracts, ^^ which are not found at all in De
faacy s text, appear in their proper places in the later Syriac "'-^
To about the sanne period judging by the similarity of style and Sina^n
language, we would assign the Syriac version of the book o{ Sindx-
f;; 0.1, /™*/''' t3'^,"^l="<^<'. probably in the latter half of
the 8th century, from Pahlavi into Arabic by Miisa, a Muliam-
madan Persian. It is, .as Noldcke has shown,-* the smaller of the
two recensions known to the Arabs, the larger, entitled Aslam (')
and Sindibddh, being the work of aI-A.sbagh ibn 'Abd al-'Aziz as-
Sijistani. The smaller Sindibddh was in its turn done into Syriac,
and thence '"t° Greek by Michael Andreopulus for Gabriel, prince
of Mehtene (1086-1100), as discovered by Comparetti,^' under the
name of ii..r(,ra! (Sindipas), just as Kalllah wa-Dimnah was trans-
lated by Symeon (the son of) Seth for the emperor Alexius Com-
neniis, who ascended the tlirone in 1081. The Syriac vfr.non,
which bears the title of the Story of Sindbdn and the Philosopher,
who toerc with him, has been edited by Baethgen, with a German
translation and notes, from the unique MS. in the Eoval Library
at Berlin.-' ' '
A third product of the same age we believe to he the Syriac trans- Lift of
lation of Pseudo-Call.sthenes's Life of Alexander the Si-eat, made^teZ-
from an Arabic version of a Greek original. Of this, however, we der the
irint =» •'" °° ''' *'"' ^^'"^'^ ^^^^ "^^ ^^'°^^ "^ '" ^'*"-
Lasdy we would place somewhere between the 9th and lUh cen- ^mSJ.
tunes the Syriac tran.-Jation of Esop's (iEsop's) Fables, which hasr'a^'
been edited under a somewhat Jewish garb by Landsbergcr,'" who
imagined himself to have found the Syriac original of the fables of
bjTitipas (Sindipas), whereas GeigerS' clearly showed that we have
here to do with a Syriac rendering of one of the forms of the fables
ot hsop. In fact, as Oeiger pointed out, Dl£im is only a clericaJ
error for D121DX1. In Syriac MSS. of this collection the title is
written U^oSufiJQ.,, "of Josephus."»= hi some close relation to
these stands the story of Josephus and king Nebuchadnezzar in
the Berlin MS. Alt. Bestand 57, ff. 16-57, with which are inter-
woven a number of Esopic fables. They have been edited (with
97 lOo'"^ ° ""' Rodiger in his Chrestom. Syr., 2d ed., pp.
IResuming our enumeration of Syrian writers, we find that in the
12th century ihe number of them, whether Jacobite or Nestorian
IS small, but two of the former sect ar£ men of real mark
Abu Ghahb bar Sabuni, the younger brother of Sa'id bar Sabuni Abii
(see above, p. 849), was almost as unfortunate as his brother. He Ghiilib
was raised to the episcopate of Edcssa after his brother's death by bar
Atianasius VII., but speedily deposed on account of a quarrel. <*...flnl
aithougli many of the Edessenes, among them the governor Bald-
, !' ^."^ Keith-Falconer, Ealtlah aiid D'mnah or the FabXes^f Bidmi. 18S5
Introduction. ^ '
'2 f"^^^: ^'Bopk of Kalllah andDimnah, translated from Arabicinto Syriac!'
-» bee Wright s Preface, p xi 57
't %^'2'^i^'- ^'"''" '^' ''"'" ^'■"'"' '''' I-''>ro rf£ I^alila e Dimna, 1873.
^ Keith-Falconer, op. cil., p. Ix. 26 Z.D.M.G., xxxiii. (1S70), pp. 521-522.
-■7 Riecrche tntomo al Libra di Sindibdd, 1869. p. 28 sq. ; The Foll:-tore Society.
vol. IX, 1, p. 5l SQ,
V '^o^l'' '''^^'!""<' 57, fT. 60-87. A small specimen had already been published
by Rodiger. Chreslmi. Sijr., 2d ed., pp. 100-101.
lii.f.^"^" edition of it is in preparation by Mr E. A. W. Tludgc, or tlie British
Museum, from five MSS. See Rodiger, Chrestom. Syr., id ed., pn. 112-120, and
l-erkins m the .hiirnal of the American Oriental iodely, iv. p. 359 SJ.
rA° 7'^^?^°? N ynO, Die Faheln des Sophos, Syrisehcs Oriainal der Griechischen
Faieln desSyntiins, 1859. Comp.ire his earlier dissertition, FabuU aliouol
^STn' ■ ■: ■, -.v ^' '^•D'V.C, xiv. (ISOO), p. 586 sq.
loTnT' I'* ^ ;-,' ,"'"',''"*<= 2- So, for example, MS. Trin. Coll. DubUn. E. .'•.
J2 (Wright, Kalllah and Dimnah, pp. ix., x.).
;2th cent.]
SYRIAC LITERATURE
851
win, brother of Godfrey of Bouillon took his part He died of a
fall from his horse, shortly after the death of the patriarch m 1129.
Though a good scholar and linguist, he does not appear to have
writtTu anything that has come down to our times Assemani it
is true ascribes 5) him three poems in twelve-syllable metre on the
capture of Edessa by Zengl ibn Ak-sunkur ; but, as this took place
in 1144,= the writer must have been his successor, Basil bar bhumna
^"/ohn,^*^ bishop of Harran and Marde or Mardin, had charge of
the Jacobite churchesin the East, hid dioceso includingTell-Besme,
Kephar-tutha, Dara. Nisibis, Eas'ain, and the Khabhora or khabur.
He was originally a monk of Edessa, was appointed bishop by
Athanasius VII. in 1125, and was killed by a fal rom his horse
in 1165, at the age of seventy-eight." Ho devoted himself chiefly
to the restoration of the decayed churches and- monasteries of his
diocese, as may be seen from the autobiographical fragment in £.0.,
ii 217 sq. From the same docmnent, pp. 224-225, it appears tliat
he was fond of MSS., which he collected, repaired, and bound, and
that he ^Trote with his own hand four small copies of the Gosjie s
in gold and silver. He enjoyed a well earned reputation as a land-
surveyor and practical engineer.' Bar -Hebrseus notes his great
liberality in redeeming the captive Edessenes who had been carried
off by Zengi's troops.^ The fall of Edessa (1144) however, was an
event that got him into a great deal of trouble. He was ill-advised
enough to write a treatise on the Providence of God, m which he
maintained that chastisements of that kind were «o« sent upon
men by God, and that, if the troops of the Franks (Crusaders) had
been there, Edessa wourd not have been taken by Zengi Such
rank heresy of course brought down upon him the whole bench ol
bishops. He was attacked by the priest Salibha of Kangarah (?_),» by
iohn bishop of Kaisum,» John bar Andreas bishop of Mabbogh,
and Dionysius bar SaUbi." He was also the compiler of an anaphora.
Jftoob or The star of this century among the Jacobites is undeniably Jacob
W«^y bar Salibi of MelitSue (Malatiah). He w-as created bishop of
rioB tar Mar'ash, under the name of -Dionysius, by Athanasius VIII
MftL (Yeshu' bar Ketrah, 1138-66), in 1145, and the diocese of Mabbogli
^ was also placdd under his charge." Michael I. (1166-99) transferred
him to Amid, where he died in 1171." The list of his works, as
quoted by Assemani from a Syriao MS., is very considerable, '^ and
He has dealt with them at great length. i= We may mention the
following. (1) Commentary on the Old Testament, of which only
one complete MS. exists in Europe." The order of the books is—
the Pentateuch, Job, Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings, Isalms
Proverbs, Ecclei;iastes, the Song of Songs, Isaiah, Jeremiah and
Lamentations, Ezokiel, Daniel, the twelve minor Prophets, and
Eclesiasticns. Each book has a material or literal and a spuitual
or mystical commentary. Several of the oooks have two com-
mentaries, one on the Peshitta, the other on the Hesaplar text ;
Jeremiah has actually three, one on the Hexaplar, and twp, a
shorter and a longer on the Peshitta. (2) Commentary ou the New
Testament, from which Assemani has given many extracts the
order of the books is— the four Gospels, the Revelation of bt John,
the Acts of the Apostles, the seven apostolic epistles, and the
fourteen epistles of St Paul." (3) A compendium of theology, of
which we do not seem to have any -MS. in Europe ; see JS.U., ii.
163,col. 1, 11. 13-15, and p. 170. (4) A copious treatise against
heresies, dealing with the Muhammadans, the Jews, the Nestonans,
the Dyophysites or supporters jf the council of Chalcedon, and
the Armenians "> (5) A treatise on the Providence of God, against
_1 See B.O., ii. 212, 368-359 ; Bar-Hebrajus, Cftron. Eala., i. 467-479.
"■I B.O., ii. cli. (comp. p. 317). i. , i
8 See Bar-Hebrseus, Chron. Syr., r. 828 (transl., p. 335); Chron. Bales., i.
•'Hia'baptismal name was probably Jacob; see B.O., ii. 230, col. 1, at the
ot.
6 B.O,, ii. 216, 220; Bar-Hebnens, Chron. Eccla., I. 631.
« B.O., ii. 22U ; Bar-Ucbneus, Cht m. Ecdis., i. 625-527.
7CAr<,'n.£cde,:.,1.501. 8 Died In 1164 BO ii 362
» BO ii 364 ■ BarHcbncuB, Ch- m. Ecchs., l. 501, 554, 559. Died in 1171.
10 .Aftenvardsof Tar-'Al)hdin ; B .r-Hcbraus, Chrm. Eales., i. 615. Ho com-
posed both in Armenian and Syrinc, B.O., it. 300 co 1. 1, 2, So2 col. I ; Bar-
&ebrxus,Cfcron.M«.,i.487. Die'.in 1160 ;B.O l. 3G2 ; Bar-Uobrccua, Wro;..
Eccla.. i. 617 , see lint. Mns. OricB*. 1017 (Wright Catat., pp. 897^898).
" BO ii 207 ; Bar-Hcbrajua, 01 ron. EccUs., i. 503. J- B.O., li. 230.
13 B 0 ' ii 302 ■ Bar-llcl>i<i"'i3, C ron. Eccles., i. 613-515.
" B.0'.\ ii! 303, 365 ; Bar-nebriiM-3, Chron. Eccla., i. 669.
15 B.O., II. 210 ; comp. Catal. Bib . Laur. el Palat. iledic., p. 79.
ir At Paris, Suppl'. 92, in Zotcnh^rg's Calat., No. 06. Thcro are fraRments in
Anc. fonds 3 (Zotenbcrg. Catal.. No. 9); see also Cod- Vat. xcvi. 29, 42, 48
(Pialmi), 30 (on tlio ProiAcU). „.?,•'?•■ V' ,!".}, 'i • i
1» The Gospels arc in Brit. Mils. Add. 7184 ; Cod^Vat. civ. 19-2-t, cln Cclxxv..
ix.; Paris, Anc. fonds 33, 31 (Zot/-nberg, C"'"'-;, N"\,"-«J': D°d1 .°r. 703 2.
StMattlicw Bodl. Hunt. 217. R .^elation, tic, Brit. Mus. Add. 71Sj . Bocl. Or.
660. Dudley I^ftus was the first to make use of these commenUncs in his
two works, The Kxposilioii o/ fl'iiysius Sums. wrilUn a'miie 900 ycurajtnce, o?i
the Emi,t,,Ud St Mark, translated hii D.L. (Dublin, 1072). and A Cltarand Uamcd
Explication of the History of our Illesstd Saviour J. C.. . . .htl Dionyulm iyrus,
. . . translated 6i; D. L. (Dublin, 1095) ; see Payne Smith, Catal., p. 411, notes
d and f. Loftus's manuscript translations are in the Bodleian Library, toll
2" B b ii 170 211. The section against the Muhammadans Is contained In
Cod. Vat." xcvi. 19, and that against the Nestonans in Paris, Ane. fonds 125
(Zotcnberg Catal., No. 209, 2). There is ao extract from the latter in BodL
foot.
John, bishop of Hardin,-' apparently no longer extant. (6) Exposi-
tions of the Eucharistio service,^ of the Nicene creed,-' of the con-
secration of the chrism,-* of the services of consecration,^ and of
the Jacobite confession of faith.^ (7) Canons on confession and
absolution.-' (8) Two anaphora: or liturgies.^ (9) Various prayers,
procemia, and sedras.^. (10) Homilies, €.y., encomium on the patriarch
Michael the Elder,^" on the P.i=sion of our Lord," and ou witlihold-
ing the sacrament from those who abstain from communicating for
a period of more than forty d.iys.'^ (11) A commentary on the si.x
Centuries olEYngtins.'' (12) Two poems on the fall of Edessa (1144),"
three on the fall of Mar'ash (1166)," and two on another incident
(1159).'^ Among the works mentioned in the list in £.0., ii. 210-
211, we cannot find any traces of the Conimenlarius in Scripla
Voclorum, the Compendium Illdoriarum Palrum ct Sanctorum el
Martyrum, and the Compendium Canonum Aposlolicorum, nor of
the commentaries on the books oS Dialectics, ibid.,c6\. 1. Of the
epistles two are extant in Arabic, Berlin, Sachau 61, 1, 2. From
a treatise On, the Structure of Man there are two short extracts in
Bodl. Marsh. 361, f. 39. Dionysius appears' also to have revised
the Jacobite order of baptism,'' and to have drawn up a volume of
■"^rvices for the days of the week.'*
Michael the Elder," the son of Elias, a priest of Melitene, of the
family of Kindasi,* was abbot of the convent of Bar-sauma, near
Melitene," which we find him supplying with water, with the help
of John, bishop of Mardin, in 1163.''- He was elected patriarch in
1166, and held office till 1199." He revised the Jacobite pontifical
and ritual, arranging its contents under forty .six heads, as exhibited
in Cod. Vat. Ii.,''* drew up an anaphora," wrote a tract setting forth
the Jacobite confession of faith, •■« a treatise against a Coptic schis-
matic, Mark the son of Konbar, on the question of confession,"
and a poem on a case of "persecution in 1159.*' He also revised
in 1185 the life of Abhhai, bishop of Nicfci, having found most
copies of it in a very disordered state.*' His most important work
was a Chronicle, from the creation to 1196 A.D., which was trans-
lated, with other works of his, into Armenian, and apparently
exists in that language alone." Some extracts from it were published
by Dulaurier in the Journal Asialique for 1848, p. 281 sq., and
1849, p. 315 sq., and the whole has been edited in a French trans-
lation by V. Langlois, Chronique de Michel le G'rati^, 1868. Accord-
ing to him the translator of the first part of the work was the
vartabed David, and it was finished by the priest Isaac, who com-
pleted his task in 1248, continuing it down to his own day. _ A
third person engaged in translating the works of Michael mto
Armenian was the vartabed Vartan.=l Appended to the Chromela
is an extract from a treatise of his " On the Sacerdotal Order and its
Ori"in," or " On the Origin of Sacerdotal Institutions," with a con-
tinuation by Isaac and Vartan," which is followed in the MSS. by
the Jacobite "confession of faith."" tlichacl appears also to
Or 467 (P. Smith, Catal., p. 601). From it is extracted the list ot the Jacoblta
patriarchs in B.O., ii. 323, note 1. '1 B.O., ii. 207; see above
"-"- B.O., ii. 170-208; Cod.Vat.oii.,ccclxi.; Brit. Mus. Or. 230, (partly Arabic).
Paris, Anc. fonds 35, 09, 125. =' Cod. Vat. clix. 4 ; Bodl. Marsh 101. ,
24 Cod.Vat.clix.30(in Arabic). =5 B.0.,ii.l71; comp. Cod Vat.clv.lO,clix.Sl.
26 Bodl. Marsh. 101, f. 31. 27 B.O., ii. I'l. 2» Ibid 11. 175 -3 Ibid n. 176
30 Ibid., ii. 170. Read, with slight alteration^, on the instaUation Ota Disnop
or patriarch. Cod. Vat. Ii. 26, ccciv. ; Paris, Suppl. 23.
31 Cod. Palat. Medicxl. (Cii(a(.,p. 78). f.„j st i
32 Cod. Palat. Medic. Ixii. {Catal., p. 107). «» Berlin, Alt. Bestand 87. 1.
34 B.C., ii. 317 ; Bar-Hebr»U3, Chron. Syr., SIS (trausl., p. 335).
35 B.C., ii. 317 ; Bar-Uebra'US, Chron. Syr., 346-347.
88 D.O., ii. 451-452 ; Bar-Hebi.xus, Chron. Eccks., ii. 351.
37 prit. ilus. Arund. Or. XI (Rosen, Catal., p. 62, col. 2).
38 Cod. Vat. ccccxxv., in Mai, Scriptt. Veil. Nova Coll., v. vs.kft-
39 So called to distinguish him from his nephew Michael the Younger, Teshll
ScphSthana or "Big-lips," who bccinie P"t"»rcl'nt Melitene (11.19.121.,), in
op wsition to Athanasiis IX., Salibha KOraha (the Bald), at Mardm (119i)-1207),
and John XIV., Yesha' the scnbe (1208-20).
M Bar-Ilebraius, CAron. ftcte., i. 537. , i° " . „ „ ,c.- .,.,Ki,«ii.i,
« Assemani expressly says "at Shenni (read |iA »). B.O., "• 154, out the list
of patriarchs at p. 323 does not give the word U ^ ?. "lo^'S'' lie repeats it in tho
translation (No. 100). In tho Dissert, de Monophmitis. r. xcviil., h" m'^"
Michael belong to the convent near MelitSnc, and merely mentions another
convent of Bar°sau.,ii at " Sena •' (soc also the Index, p 53i). La"Slois 'n t^«
preface to the Chronique de M,ch d U Grand, p. 3, thjnksof a convent ncar^ '"^^^^ "
Oiron. JSccfk, i. 526, note 1), wlicrcforo .. ., — - , „i„(„
ishaddar bdthrih). and that John "returned to his dioceso because tho winter
was at hand, meaning to come back in April" (p. 52i)
42 B.ar-Hebr.eus, Cftroii. Ec-IfJ., 1.525. ,....-.
« B.O., ii. 303.369 ; Bar-Hebncus, CTron. Ea(«., 1. 535-605.
44 Assemanis Catal., Ii. 314 s^.; B.O.. ii. 155. r.„Am
45 Cod. Vat XXV. 8 ; 'Paris, a!ic. f..u,ls 08 (Zotenbcrg, Catal P- «> • J'y*5»'
Cod.l;.72(Ca(o(.,v.73). 46 Bar.Hebr.cns, CTro.l. /icc(«.,l.549 Lallliloi3,p.331.
47 Bar-llebraus, CTiroil. HecUs., i. 573.575 ; D.O., li. 155, No. ill.
•8 Bar-ncbrlEUs, Cftron. £■«(«., il. 351. ,,oi.. r.,,1 v.f
4i) See Brit. Mus. Add. 12174, No. 8 (Wright Catal, p. 24 ; C«l V.t
xxxvii V (Catal ii. 247); II.O., il. 505, col. 2. But llie account of the dMlB
ome emperor ConsUiUi'us, au'd tlio lives of Jacob "f S^rUgh ami of MJr M<\
sppiar to bo wrcmgly asrilljcd to him In (.;'.■/. I '■'., I . 2*8-'"-^ . .. „ri„lnil
'Jo The present writer has l.eeli lecently liilonried that a r"l>y "f <• ""B'""
Syrlsc exists in the library of the convent of aj-Za fiiva.. "™' "^";1", ' , „
»1 Langlois, Prtfnco, p. 10, anil note 2. "J-"'"',"' J ' ' ,,!,?■„„•«
63 LaugloU. Pnifaco, i'. 8, at the top : Bar-ncbreus. amm Aocto., I. 000, no.a
1.0.
852
SYRIAC LITERATURE
fl2TH CE^"l'.
have written an ccclesinstical history, which is entirely lost to us.
At least Bai'-Hebi'teus ' speaks of Ins recording certain matters in
his "Ekklesiastike," which do not appear in the Chronicle.
A thorn in the side of Michael was his disciple Theodore har
TrVahbon. He first appears on the stage in llTO.-when the emperor
Manuel sent Theorianus to the Armenian catholicus and the Jacobite
patriarch with letters. Michael declined an interview, but sent
John of Kaisum to see Theoriantis at Kal'at ar-Piunv, and on his
coming a second time to the same place selected Theodore bar
■Wahbon as his representative.' Ten years afterwards, in 1180,
when Miclncl was at Antioclv Ibn Wahbon was made anti-patriarch
at Amid by certain malcontent bishops, under the name of John.*
Michael, however, at once took energetic measures,^ got hold of
the anti-patriarch, formally deposed him, and shut him up in the
convent of liar-saum.'i, whence he was afterwards allowed to make
his escape by some of the monks. Ho fled to Damascus, where he
tried in vain to bring his case before Salali ad-din, and thence to
Jerusalem, after the fall of which city in 1187 he joined Gregoriiis
Degha, the Armenian catholicus, at Kal'at ar-Rum and went with
Jiim to Cilicin, where the king, Lc^, made him patriarch of the
Jacobites in his territories. He died in 1193. According to Bar-
Hebrreus, Theodoi-e bar Wahbon was a good scholar, and could
speak and write three foreign languages, Greek, Armenian, and
Arabic* He compiled an anaphora,' wrote an exposition of the
Eucharistic serVice,' and a statement of his case against MicHael
in Arabic.'
Elias III. Of Ncstorian writers there are scarcely any worth naming in this
century, for the historian and controversialist M.'ire bar Shelemon,
otherwise Mfui ibn Sulaimfm. wrote in Arabic'" ; and Elias III.,V
Abu Halim ibn al-Hndithi, of Maiperkat, metropolitan of Nisibis
and catholicus from 1175 to 1100, chiefly used the same language
in his homilies and letters.'- He is best remembered for having
compiled and arranged the prayers in one of the service books,
which is still called by his name, "the Abu Halim."''
Uho'- isho'-yabh bar Malkon was ordained bishop of Kisibis iff 1190
j-abh by the catholicus Yabh-alilha II. (1190-1222), was present at the
bar consecration of his successor Sabhr-isho' IV, (1222-25), and died
Walkon. under Sabhr-isho' V. (1226-56), his follower at Nisibis being Makki-
kha, who was afterwards catholicus (1257-65).'* He wrote on ques-
tions of grammar, besides homilies, letters, and hymns, in which,
however, he chiefly, if not exclusively, employed the Arabic language.'^
1 Chron. EccUs., i. 5S0.
2 Ibid.y i. 549, 551, whei'e 1172 is an error, as remarked, by Abbeloos in note 1.
John of Kaisum, who was present on the occasion, died in 1171 (p. 559).
3 The disputations held on these occasions were of course utterly fruitless.
See Lcunclavius, Legatio Imp. Csjsaris Manuelis Covmeiii Aug. ad Armenios,
sive 7'heoriani cum CathoUco dispvtatio, &c., 1578, and in Galanus, Concilia-
tionis Ecclesice Armeiia; C7rm liomana . . . parsi., 1690, p. 242 sq.; Disp. Theoriani
secvitda, in Jlai, Scriptt. Vclt. A'ora CoU.^ \i. pp. xxiii. and 314 sq., and in Migiie,
Patrol. Gr.,cxx.\iiK114sg.; alsoBar-Hebraus, Chron. Ecdcs., i. 549-557; Langlois,
Chroniqiie, pp. 329-331; comp. Abbeloos's notes on Bar-Hebraeus, ]ip. 550-552,
and D.O., ii. 304-3C5. 4 Bar-Hebraus. Chron. Ecclcs., i. 675 sq.; B.O., ii. 213.
5 B.ir-Hebrreus, Chron. Ecclcs., i. 579 ; B.C., ii. 214. 6 Chron. Ecclcs., i. 681.
' See Eenaudot, ii. 409; B.O., ii. 210; Payne Smith, Catal., p. 241, note c.
» CO., ii. 216. 9 Bar-HebrKus, Chron. Ecclcs., i. 6S1, at the foot.
10 He flourished in the.first half of this century (B.O., iii. 1,554-555,582). His
work is extant in the Vatican Library in 2 vols., cviii. and cix. (Slai, Scriptt.
Kf».XomCo?i.,iv. 219-223), with the title ii'i/dbcZ-Jl/n/rfrrZ or "the Tower, "wrongly
ascribed to 'Amr ibn Matta of Tirhan. The first volume, transcribed in 1401,
is tlieolopical and dogmatical ; it coniprises the first four sections. The second
volume is theological and historical. The series of patriarchs ended with "71,"
•Abhd-jsho' bar Mukl of Mosul (1138-47), but is continued down to Yabh-alSha
bar KixyOm,^ of Mosul (1190), "qui nunc sedeni tenet," i.e., in 1214, when this
volume was written. His epitomizer "Ajnr ibn Matt.a of Tirhan lived in the
tirst half of lire 14th century (23.0., iii. 1, 5S0, 5SC). To him is ascribed Cod.
Vat. ex., which "antographus esse videtur" (Mai, Scriptt. Vett. Nova Coll., iv.
224-227). • It consists of live parts, of which the first is wanting in this MS.,
which has therefore no title. The series of catholics in pt. v., fundam. 2, is
continued down to Yabh.alaha (1281-1317). Inpt. v., fundam. 3, sect. 6, we find
the confession of faith of Michael, bishop of Aniid and Maiyafaril<in (B.O., iii.
1, 557), translated into Arabic by the priest Saliba ibn Yohanna, whom G. E.
Khaj-j-ath, archbishop of 'Amiidia, asserts to be the real author of the whole
work (see his Syri Orientalcs sen Chaldxi, h'estorinni ct Romanornm Pontijicitm
rrimalus, 1870, and comp. Hoffmann, Aus-iige, p. 6). Cod. Vat. dclxxxviL
(Mai, op. cit., V. 594) contains part of tlie same work as Cod. Vat. ex. (though the
Ccttalognc calls it the Majdal, and ascribes it to Jliiri), viz., pt. v., fundam. 1
and 2 ("usque ad Ebediesum Barsaumos successorem, qui obiit die 25 novem-
liris an. Cliristi 1147. Continuat eandem historiam Amrus Maltlirei filius, a
Jesuiabo balndensi, Ebediesu successore, usque ad laballahum III. Timothei
fiecundi successorem, qui obiit die 31 ianuarii an. Christi 1222"!). Cod. Vat.
dclxxxviii. is also said to contain "Historia Patriarcharum Chalda^orum sive
Kestorianoruni," from Addai and M.lri down to Yabh-al.lha bar Kfiyomii, by
'Amribn MattiJ. "Ha?cautem historia longc fusior est atque emendatior ilia,
quaui JIares f. Salomonis conscripsiti de qua in pra^cedente codice" 1 And to
add to the perplexity, Sacliau describes his Cod. 12 (Arab.) as "Theil einer
o E o£
iImwVI .Um*1 BiicherderGeheim-
grossen Ki rchengescldchte der Nestorianer.
nisse. Alte Papierhandschrift (14 Jh.). Es ist das J JS*" i_)\:3 von 'Amr
1). Matt.i nus llrh.in." Possibly the MS. in the collection of the S.P.C.K. may
give some light.
'1 B.O., ii. 450, iii. 1, 287 ; Bar-Hebrcus, Chron. Ecclcs., ii. 367.369.
12 B.O., iii. l,20a
13 Badger, The Nestorians, ii. 23: "The Aboo Haleem contains a collection
of collects appointed to be read at the conclusion of the Nocturns of all the
Sundays throughout the year, of the festivals, and the three days of the Baootlia
d'Nivvf^iyS, before the conimencement of the Matins." See B.O., iii. 1, 291-295,
14 D.O,, iii. I, 295, note 1. 15 IMd., iii. 1, 295.306.
He is the same as Joseph bar JIalkon, bishop of Mardin, whose
metrical tract on the points, entitled Mlsldhta dhi-Nukse, or "the
Net of the Points," is found in MSS., along with the grammatical
writings of Elias bar Shinaya and John bar Zo'bi.'^ This tract
must therefore have been composed before 1190.
Simeon Shan kOlabhadhi or Shankelawi, of Shankelabh.adh or Shan-
kelawali,'" near Irbil, must have been a contemporary of Bar Malkpn,
and jierhaps somewhat senior to him. He was the teacher of John
bar Zo'bi, for whom lie wrote a Chronikon or clironological treatise
in the form of questions and answers, explanatory of the various
eras, the calendar, &c. There is a JIS. in the British Museum,
Simeo
Shank
laWl.
Add, 25875," and several at Berli
He was also the author
of a moral poem in enigmatical language, of which 'Abhd-isho'
thought it worth his while to write an explanation for his disciple
Abraliani.^' To him is likewise ascribed "the questions of Simon
Kfpha concerning the Eucharist and Baptism, which he appears
to have introduced to the notice of his pupil John bar Zo'bi.'^
John bar Zo'bi flourished about the end of the 12th and the bo-
ginning of the 1.3th century. He was a monk of Beth Kuka (or
Kuke) in Hcdhaiyabh, and numbered among his pupils Jacob bar
Shakko, or Severus, bishop of Mar Matthew (see below).^ He wrote
metrical homilies, partly in seven-syllable, partly in tv,-elve-syllable
verse, on the chief points of the Nestorian faith. ^ One of these is
mentioned byAsseniani, B.O., iii. 1, 309, note 1-^ ; another, on tha
four problems of philosophy, is in Berlin, Sachau 72, 15. Bar Zo'bi
is, however, better known as a grammarian.-^ The larger of his
two grammars is based on the works of previous writers, such as
Severus Sebokht and Deuba, commentators on Aristotle, and tha
grammarians Elias I., the catholicus, and Elias bar Shintiya, bishop
of Nisibis.^ The smaller grammar is an epitome in verse, accom*
panied by a metrical tract on the four chief marks of interpunction.'-'
He seems also to have continued the treatise of HonainTJc^i/Honi/mi's,'^
so that he may perhaps be HofTmann's "analecta anonymus."^
As the lamp flares up before it expires, so the 13th century wit-
nessed a faint revival of Syriac literature before its extinction.
David bar I'aul is cited by Bar-Hebr.-eus in the Avsar Hdze,^' and
may therefore be supposed to have lived early in the 13th century.
He was evidently a man of considerable culture, and a versifier.
Vfe have from his pen a poem on the letters of the Sjniac alphabet,"
a note on the mutable letters,^- and a brief enumeration of the cate-
gories of Aristotle,^' a moral poem in twelve-syllable verse," another
on repentance in an Arabic translation,^^ and specimens of a third
in Cardahi's Liber Thcsaiiri, p. 138. Theological are a dialogue
between a Malkite and a Jacobite on the hymn Trisagion'" and a
tract in Arabic on matters in dispute between the Jacobites and
Malkites.37
Jacob bar Shakko (Shakkako ?)," or 'Isa, bar Mark, of Bartellai or
Bartull'a, near JFosuI, was a monk of the famous convent of Mar
Matthew, of whith he afterwards became bishop by the name of
Severus. ^^ He was trained in grammar by John bar Zo'bi (see above)
in the convent of BCth Kuka (or Kuke) in Hfdhaiyabh,*" and in
dialectics and philosophy by ICamal ad -Din Wusa ibn Yunus at
Mosul. 4' He composed one of his works, the Book of Treasures,
David
bar Pat
Jacob
or Ee"
erus "
Shak
IS E.g., Cod. Vat. cxciv. (copied from a 5IS. written in 1246), and Brit. Mas
Add. 25S76, f. 276b (note the colophon, f. 290b, Wright, Catal., p. 117S); see
B.O., iii. 1,303, col. 1, No. viii., and the Abbe Martin, De la Mitri'juo chez Us
Syriens, 1879. p. 70 (at p. CS, 1. 14, read |«lifUvJ9 , " the bishap of Nisibis ").
17 Bee no':nann, Ausciige, p. 231, and note 1S47.
18 Wright, Catal., p. 1067. "> Sachau 108, 1, 121, and 153, 1, 3.
20 Cod. Vat. clxxxvii. (Cdffi?., iii. 404) ; MS. Ind. Off. No. 9, " Tracts in Syriae,"
f. 204. It has been published by Card.^hT, Liber Thesauri, p. 89. Cardiild calls
the author as-Sankalahari, blindly copying Assemani's Sancalabarensis, and
places his death iii 780 (see B.O., iii. 1, 225, note 5, p. 226, note 7 ; and Catal
ra(., iii. 405). =1 B.O., iii. 1, 562. -^ Bar-Hcbraius, CTiroii. EccUs., iL 409.
23 Brit. Mus. Or. 2305 ; and apparently Berlin, Sachau 8.
24 It has been translated by Badger, The Nestorians, ii. 151-153,
25 B.O., iii. 1, 307.
20 Part of this work, namely, the portion that deals with the marks of inter,
punction, has been edited and translated by Martin, Truite suri'Accentuulion
che:: Ics Syricns Oricntaux, 1877.
27 MSS. of these grammars,— Cod. Tat. cxciv., ccccl.; Brit. Mus. Add. 25870 ;
Or. 2314 ; Berlin, Alt. Best. 36, 16, and Sachau 210, 2, and 300, 2.
28 Berlin, Sachau 72, 14. 23 opusc. Nestor., p. iv. 30 B.o., ii. 243.
31 Cod. Vat. ccxvii. (Cata!., iii. 505) ; Paris, Ajic. fonds 118 (Zotenberg, Catal.
p. 100), 157 (ibid., p. 147).
32 Paris, Anc. fonds 164 (Zotenberg, Catal, p. 213).
33 B=rlin, Alt. Best. 36, 13. 34 Cod. Vat. xcvi. (Catal, ii. 522).
35 Cod. Vat. Iviii. (Catal, ii. 351).
36 Cod. Vat. cxlri. (Catal., iii. 268), ccvili. (Cnial, iii. 498); Paris, Anc fonds
134 A (Zotenberg, Catal, p. 154), with an Arabic translation.
57 Bodl. Hunt. 199 (P. Smith, Catal, p. 449), Poc. 79 (ib.. p. 459).
38 Written a^SA and oiOA.
. 39 Ear-Hebraens, (7/iro?i. £ccres., ii. 409 (a contemporary). In Cod. Vat. ccccxi.
(JiUi, ScripU. Fell. Nova Coll, v.) he bears the name of Jacob bar Talia, a corrup-
tion of Bartellaya. In MS. Berlin, Alt. Best. 38, 1 (if tlie Catal. be comet), he
is called " rnetropolitan of the convent of St Matthew near Arbela," confuting
Miir M.atthew at Mosul with Beth Kiika, where he was trained. Asscniaiii am!
others have idcntiUcd him with Jacob, bishop of Maiperkat (Miidhinath Salide).
With Taghrith he never had anything to do.
40 Hoffmann, Auszitge, p. 215, note 1715.
41 Born 1156, died 1224 ; Bar-Hcbrseus, CTiron. Ecclcs., ii. 411 ; Wvistenfeld,
Cesch. d. arah. Aerztc, No. 229 ; Ibn Khallikan. cd. Wustenfcld, No. 757 ; Ibn AW
Osaibi'ah, ed. MuUer, i. 300.
1 3th CE^■T.]
SYRIAC LITERATURE
853
Treasur
tbree-i
part
'a'danV
i„ ,231 and died in ;2.1^ cm h. ^ay ^ v^t «>o aged patriarch
Ignatius 11. (™aP^"''^^2^;,5;22 ^tnar h 1^^ dfrn^.o"'^ of
ft great many books, winch weie all <;''" "J^^^ '" „, ^ho .Bo^i o/
?hf ruler o/Mosal. . His works are a^ follows ()lhc^^ ^^ ^^/
.„«. atheolngrca *"»» ,VP,,f°^„Xn of the Son of God;
i-one God; part ii., of '.''« '"ff'"^". =,. of the creation of
,... iii., of tho Divine Provvlence, part .^
'the universe, the angels, * '^.f'^^^^^^.^t'^' 2TThei)ia?09»«,in two
the resurrection, and the last judgement l^^ by a discourse on
hooks. Book i, dial 1, on g^">"^'','^2 Jn rhetoric ; dial. 3, on
the same in twelve-sy lable me re d al 2 on ^ ^^^
theartofpoetryormetves; dial.4 ontheeioi ^_^^ ^^^ ^^^_
of the Synac language. f°°\",!,X divisions, and subdivisions,
logism ; dial. 2, °° Pl'''°f rM'- f^«'^^^ its diyi-
in five sections, viz., (a) on '"^ "«"'" , conduct ; (c) on physics
eions, &c ; (h) on the f '''"^'^ , ;'^,fe":iarithmetic mu^c geo-
orphysiology; Won the four disc^une ^^^ theology.* Of
metry, and mathematics ; ;) "" ""^Xlsed to Fakhr ad-Daulah
Ilia letters two are «=='?" V.wT^ii ad-Daulah Abu Tahir Sa'id.»
>Iark bar Thomas and l^.'' ''^"/^^^th egardh g the Trinity and the
He also .^o'^^^''"["^^^'°" °if Ji es in the Book of Treasures v^ri
incarnation, whieli he 1"™'.^,!^ "^f .V.Vservic.'s and prayers of the
ii., chap. 14, and an ^^?''^;''?\l*same w^rk, part, ii., chap. 31
I^i=]nad^j:^:dt=slSoS:La.priest.. which
ia found in many service books. recently appointed
his panegyric on the ^oly M«r Aa.on, and ing ^^ ^^_
with every mark of respect." On "« "«"" ° j ,° j j^.^j faction
^Mlufen^^I^arrthchU^^^^
t' baVMa-dfni c^Sd an anaphora" and ^vr^^e a great many
contains e.ghteen for various feasts in Arabic- 4V„ im^^no
,~ Th se waiters are, however, all cast into the shade by pe rnipos-
e?ratt».ing figure of Bar-Hebr.^us, as we are accustomed to '^""i' ">' °",1
'^^Jthe^moat learned and versatile men that Syria ever V^d'-^f
Abu '1-Fara; Greeory" was the child of a physician at ^l^iitene
fMalaJiairiamef Aharon, a convert f^^ ^^'J^avl or Ib^ al-
descent, wbeace hia son got the name of Bar Ebhr.paor Ibn ai
1 Asaemaul (B.O., ii. 455) is mistaken ; see also pr- 237 and 477. _ ,
5 According to Abbeloos, Bar-Hebraus, Chrm.EcdfS., ii. 412, <° »™"^™
ruhlt'um princlpls Mossuto assuraBti fuerunt." Wo suspect that the Chnst.aa
a Bar.nebnru., Chron. E«Im., {. 707 ; B.O.. 11. 8, , .
M Bar-Hebrtcus Oiron. Eccla., 1. 73i . """ >
ir See Payne 8m't1,C»(a;.,rp. |.fl-382«j^d MS.^^^^^^^
, U Bodl. Hunt. 1 • Poo. 2W (f. Smith. C^O'-^ ^. »» > ^^, ^.^^ _,^V|^
'"■»*tl^^^:iT{fA■:^^t.ccW. E.li°tc"dln part by Card..,, in t>„ Li^
'^Hunt"?' " Ma', IWic. Ixil. contain, two poem, on the love of God and
*''« S'Tl'tT '■rilfr.' & on?: also In Arable, on repentance and death In
'"i- ^ a.i'Jii'^r'^" Son's eulogy of him, LHMne and FM of ,U Roman
Enpire, ed. Smith 185.'., vj- vi. p. 55. ^„„ ,h. Inscription On his
\0 beoama a bishop.
•Ihr! '■ the son "f the Hebrew." He was born in 1226," and de-
voted himself from his boyhood to the acquieition of Greek and
-iccideut -» In the following year his father had actually to attend
as pm" cian upon one of the 'tatar generals, whom he aceompamed
?o&artabirt,and on hia return retired almost immediately from
MaUtiah to he safer city of Antioeh." Here Ba^'Heb^us com-
p eted his studies and commenced hia monastic hfe^» Thencejui
went to Tripolis, where he and Salibba bar Jacob \\ agih, of Ixlessa,
were study n<r medicine and rhetoric with a Nestonan teacher
named Jacob° when they were summoned before the patna ch
iZtius Tl., on 14th September 1246, -^nd ordained bistop, the
former of Gubos (Giibas) Aear Malatiah, the latter of 'Akko.^ Bar-
Hebr^us was then just twenty years of age. In the follow-™
he w-Ts transferred to Lakabbin, another diocese adjacent to Mala-
t™bv the patriarch Ignatius.^' After the death of Ignatms
BarHebrreus took the part of Dionysius (Aaron "Angur) agains^
John bai Ma-dani, and w'aslransfened by him in 1253 to Aleppo »
burquickly deposed by hia old Wend Salibba (who sided wOh John
bir Ma'dani)'\ nor did he recover this see till 1258." Ibe next
5 rKl^atius III. (YesluV), abbot of Gevikath near Mop^-
estia ^ advanced him to the dignity of maphrian m 1264. Hence
forth Wslife was an active and busy one, and it seema almost
marvellous thlthe should have studied and written so much,
while in no way neglectful of the vast diocese committed to hia
dia ge The stoiy is told by himself in simple language in h 3
'SastLl History- with a continuat on by lus BU'-v'ng •'^t^H^J
Bar-sauma Safi, giving a nearly complete It » h'^;™^!^^- , ^«
died' at Maraghah in Adhurbaigan on 30tli July 1286, ana tne
s eatest respe?t was shown to his memory by Greeks, Armenians,
^ndNesto-Xs alike, the shops being closed and "o business^trana^
acted.'' His body was conveyed to the convent "f *J" *l*tt'iew
at JIosul « where his grave was seen by Badger in October 1843."
Bar-Hebraul cultivated nearly every branch of science that waa
fn vogue inhis^ime, his object being on the one hand to reinvigo-
ratland keep alive the Syrinc language and literature, and on the
o"to maL available to his co-religionists the learning o he
Muhammadans in a suitable form. . Hence hia trcatnient of he
Aristotelian philosophv, following in <!>= footsteps of_ Ibn S.na
fk vicenna) and other Arabian writers." The KUhabha dni-Bha-
mthaoT-- Book of the Pupils of tbe Eyes,"_is a compendium of
the art of logic or dialectics, comprising an introduction on tho
,tili?v of logS and seven chapters in wliich the author deals sue-
e fv^ely wifh the Isagoge of Porpl.jTy, tho Categories, D^ Ulcr-
Mone, Analytica Priora, Toinca, Anabjiica ^<»"^"'"-'^„»"4,f«
^^.Mici^ EldJiis.*' In connexion with it we take the mhabha
ethltwUlSopha or "Book of the Speech of. Wisdom," a com^
nendium of dialectics, physics, and metaphysics or hcology."
ffCeencycloptedia entitled Hcnnth JMhnaiM, Butyrurn
LpientS," or less correctly mihnath JJckhmatha, ' Sapient.a
Sam'en krum," comprises the whole Aristotelian discipline. The
fir tvoume contains the Logic, viz.. the IsagOge, Catcgoncs.De
LUervretAnal. Fri. and Poster., Dialecliai, Dc SophiM. Elcnchxs,
Rhdoric"SArt of Poetry. The second comprises the Physxcs. viz.,
DcaZcuU Fhysica, De C^lo ct Mundo, Dc Meteor,.,. ScG.n^'^-
T^l^TrorrZtionc De Fossilibus, Dc Plantis, De Ammahbiis, find
i);i«,«« The bird, in its first section, treats of tho Metaphysus
fiz of the or gin and writers of philosophy, and of theology ; in
"•^.Id sect on" of ethics, econoAiics. and politics." An abridge-
« %°d Yw : Bar.HebrffiUS, ifl.l. Dynast., p. 481 (transl., p. 316); Chron.
*"S' lo ii' 2I5 ■ Ba?:ucb'n«us, His.. D^jnas,., pp. 460.4S7 (transl,, pp. 818-319) :
"i°Se!fc»TU^n'..c,«.v.^C»„^ .1^^^
a» BarHebrnnus, Chrcn. Mm,, I. ««' ■ ,^f ;'^'- "JJl, 0 ' „ 37^ ,nd r«>mol».l
52 ?,?.;• '!• '4V '^'•°"'™"'' ?rH"cS'm;J; Mm to nS. "'"•
M BO 'il^io'; Bar-Hebm-us, Chrm. Ecdrl., i. 7411, 11. 433.
3? /(■id!, 11.431-467: CO., II. 24S.M3, 264 "74. Two brother.
JS Uarniebraus CKrcn. fc<vlr<.. "• J''' "^^^r; ";{;:• "o-„,J K^i IM and 170 In
dicil before him, Michael and MuwalTalj. bee the poems ro.- i<~
C.il. Vat. cKxlv. (C"a«il.,iil.858). «nO 11400.
:5^infs^ori^fri;^sr^v;: :W.Kst.83,2.„:
Bnelinul40,2,BndH>9,8; J^o'nbrldBe, eoU. . _ „„ 1 Amb'v Berlin. Alt.
« Brit, Mu's. Or. 1017 : Paris, ^ne- '•""">; <^^: ".^i ^™V/ Sbrldfe,
Best 38,4 ; ttachau 01 (8yr. and Arab.), also HO, 1, anu »vo, •>, v— ■
coll. of tlWa.P.O.K. /-clniol • seo Benan, P« r»0*
Medic. clxxxllL-lT. and 1x11. (p. IW).
854
SYRIAC LITERATURE
[13th cent.
ment.of this large work is the Tiglrath Tcgerdthd or "Mercatuv.i
Mercaturarum,'-' which goes over the same giound in briefer terms.'
To this class too belongs a poem "On the Soul, accordiiig- to the
views of the Peripatetics," which is described as " nicmra shinayaj"
i.e., .according to Assemani, riming in the letter sh.'^ Bar-Hebrsus
also translated into Syriac Ibn Sina's Kitdb al-ishdi-dt ica 't-tan-
hVidt,^ under the title of Keikdhlia dhc-Ecmze wa-Mi'irdnwatha,^
and another work of the same class, entitled ZuhdaL al- Asrdr or
"the Cream of Secrets," by his elder contemporary, Athir, ad-din
Mufaddal ibn "Omar al-Abhari (died in 1262).' ' Nor did he neglect
the study of mathematics and astronomy. In 1268 we find him
lecturing on Euclid in the new convent at Maraghah, and again
in 1272, at the same place, on the Mcgisti ('H fieyiXri aui/Taiis) of
Ptolemy.* He drew up a :ij, i.e., a set of astrouomical tables or
astronomical almanac, for the use of tiros'; but his principal work '
in this branch of science is the Stdldhd Haundndyd or "Ascent of
the Mind,'" a. complete treatise on astronomy and cosmogi-aphy,
which ho composed in 1279.' ■ His medical writings are more
numerous, for Bar-Hebraus was famous as a physician" and had
been in attendance as such on the Tatar "king of kings " in 1203."
Ke made, for example, a translation and an abridgement of Dios-
corido.i's treatise Dfepi i/Xijs iVrpitiJ! (De Medicamentis Simplicibus),
under <-'ie title oi Kethdbhd dM-Dhioskorldhls,^ and \vTOte a com--
mentar^ on the Aphorisms of Hippocrates in Arabic,'- and on the
Qukstiotces Medicm of Houain ibn Ishak in Syriac." He also pub-
lislied the Qiixslioncs in an abridged Syiiae translation." Further,
he is said to h.ire «Tittea commentaries in Arabic on Galen's treatises
De Ekmaitis {llepl tCht Kad' 'tTnroKpaTrjv aToix^imi') and De Tempera-
mentis {\lep\ upacre'cjy).'^ He niaue an abridged version in Arabic of
al-Ghafiki's" "Book of Simples" (al-adwiyah al-mu/radah)," and
left an unfinished Syriac translation of tho Canon {al-Kdnkn _fi
't-Tibb) of Ibn Sina." A largo medical treatise of his own co-.iposi-
tion in Syriac is mentioned, but no special title is given.'^ As a
grammarian Bar-Hebraus deserved, well of his country, an-* his
Writings on 'this subject are now well known and appreciatel by
Orientalists. By making use of the work of previous grammarians,
especially Jacob of Edessa, he has succeeded in givin w a veiy full '
sketch of the language according to the Oriental system, with many
valuable observations as I,' dialectic differences, &c. ' The larger
grammar bears the title of A't'ii Ibhd dhe-Semhc, "the Book of Lights."
or "Rays."-" Ithas'becn published', according to the Paris JIS.
Ancieu fonds 166, by the' Abbe Jlartin.^' The smaller metrical
grsLmaia.r,.Klfhdbhd dhe-Ghrammatikl," was edited so long ago as.
1843 by Professor Bertheau-of Gbttingcn, according to the MS.
Orient. 18 in the library of that university, but without the fifth
section De Voeibxis JEquivocis. Martin has republished it in his
CEuvres Gmmvialieales d'Abou'l Faradj, voh ii., including the fifth
section,' according to'the Paris MS. Ancieu fonds 167.'' . A third,
still stoaller grammar, Kithdbkd d!ia-Bht!lsasilhd or " tho Book of
the Spark," was Jeft uufi.iished by the author. =^ As a theologian,
Bar-Hebrreus'smost usefid work undeniably is the Aiisar T^dze ov
"Storehouse of Secrets," the Ilorrcura .Uystcriortim as it js commonly
calleJ.-' This is a critical anddoctrinal comraentaryon the text of
the Scriptures of the Old and Xew Testaments, based on the Peshitl.'i,
but taking note of the various readings of the Hebrew te.xt, tho LXX.
and other Greek versions, the later Syriac translations, and even
the -Armenian and Coptic, besides noting dilierences of. reading be-
twe^.n the HTcstorians and Jacobites. The doctrinal portion is drawn
from the Greek father? and previous Syrian theologians, of course
of the Monophysite school.^ The Mcndrath Xndlishe, or " Lamp of
1 Palat Medic, cc; Berlin, Sachau 211 ; Cambridge, coll. of the S.F.C.K.
5 B.C., ii. 208, in the note, col. 2, No. 28.
3 Thcojxmala tt Excrcilationes, a course of logic,- physics, and metaphysics;
see Wasteiifeld, Cesclidtte d. arab. Aerate, p. 73, No. 01 ; D.O., ii. 270, note 2.
4 Cod. Vat. ctci. i Palat. Medic, clxxxv. (Arab, and Syr.); Paris, Anc.
fonds 103. " 5 See Hisl. Vynast., p. 485 (trausl., p. 318;.
6 B.O., ii. 2^13; Chron. Eccles., ii. 443.
.7 B.O., ii. 307 ; but the calendar there indicated is of later date.
8 BodU H".nt. 540 ; Paris, Anc. fonds 162. On the date see Payne Smith,
CcUal., p 684. S Wiistenfeld, Gesch. d. am!). JciiU, No. 240. ■
»0 Cliroji. Eccles., i. 747. n E.O., ii. 208, in the note, col. l,.No. 13, and p.-270.
12 Ihid., ii.20S, coL 1, No. 15, and p. 270.
13 Apparently unhnished, for Bar-sauma is careful to add "as far as Thlriakl,"
B.O., ii. 272, No. 23 ; see also p. 268, in the note, col. 2, No. 25.
" B.O.,ii. 270, No. 16.
15 VearMi.Dc AvctorumGrB.'c. rcrss.'et Commenll. Syrtacis, tc.,1842, pp. 242-
243, 270 : Wiistenfeld, Gesch. d. ara't. Acrzlc, No. 210.
16 Wiistenfeld, op. cit. No. 170 ; Ibn Abf Usaibi'ah, ed. JlUUer, ii. 52.
17 B.O., ii. 270, No. 14 ; 268, note, col. 1, No.' 14.
}> Hid., iL 272, No. 24 ; 208, note, col. 2, No. 2-2.
W Ibid,, ii. 272, No; 20. -" Bid.', ii. 307.
M (Euvrea Gramma I icales d:Alou 'I Fartulj, dit Bar Hehreus, vol. i., 1872. The
chapter on the signs of iiiterpunction, &c., was edited by Dr Phillips in 1369,
in A Letter hy Mar Jacrih, Bishop of E'lt^ssa, on Synac Orthoyraphy. MSS. of this,
work are— Cod. Vat ccccxvi., ccccxxii.; Bodl. Hunt, 1, Pocock 29?; Paris,
Anc. fonds ICB; Biit. Mus. Add. 7201 ; P.alat. Jlcdic cxxli. ; Gottingen, Or.
18b ; Berlin, Alt. Best 43, Sachatt 307, 303 ; Cambridge, coll. of the S.P.C.K.
S2 B.O., ii. 303..
23- Of'this work there arc many BISS- in Europe, differing from one another in
the quantity of the scholia and the retention or oiflission of section 5.
-1 b.O., 11. 272, fSn. 27. =5 aid,, ii. 277. -
-5 Portions of this work bave been edited at various times, but a complete
edition is still unachieved. Larsow maiLe a very small beginning in 185S. See
the list in Nestle's Brevis Lingnx Syr. Grammatica, 1881, pp. 31-32, MSS. of
tne Sanctuary," i." a treatise on the •• oases " or first principles on
which the church is established.-' It deals in twelve " bases " with
the following subjects: — (1) of knowledge in general, (2) of tho
nature of the universe, (3) of theology, (4) of the incarnation, (5)
of the knowledge of celestial substances, i.e., the angels, (6) of tho
earthly piiesthood, (7) of the evil spirits, (3) of the rational soul,
(9) of free will and liberty, fate and destiny, (10) of the resufrec-
tion, (11) of the end of the irorld and the last jmlgcment, (12) of
paradise. The KWidbhd dki-Zalge, or "Book of Rays," is a com-
pendium of theology, going over neaily tho same ground as tho
previous work, in ten sections.-' The Keihdbhd dh' ithiJcOn, or Liber
Tujv 7]0iKu>i; was composed at Maraghah in 1279. It has been fully
analysed hy Assemani in the B. 0. , ii. 303 sq: Part i. treats of tho
exercises of the body and mind, snch as prayei-, manual work, study,
Vigils, fasting, &c. ; part ii., of the regimen of the body ; part iii.,
of the purifying of the soul from evil passions ; part iv. , of the
adorning of the soul with virtues.-' The Kithdhhd d/iS-Vaiiud, or
" Book of the Dove," is a siuiilar work specially intended for the use
of ascetics liring in solitude as hermits. It is also divided into foirr
parts, viz., (1) of the training of the body, e.g., in alienation from
the world, repentance, poverty, humility, patience, fraternal love,
&c. ; (2) of the training of the soul, c.g., in quiet, religious exercises,
prayer, watching, fasting, &c. ; (3) of the spiriUul rest of the per-
fect ; and (4) an autobiographical sketch of his own spiritual life.™
Bar-Hebrceus also spent part of his time in excerpting, arrang-
ing, and commenting upon the £ook of Hierothcus concerning Ihi
hidden Mysteries of the House of God.^'-' In the commentary he
chiefly follows that of Theodosius, patriarch of Antioch (see above,
p. S46).^- He compiled an au.iphora,^ published a confession of
faitli or creed,'* and approved the order of baptism of Scveriis, as
translated by Jacob of Edessa.'^ More Tahi.able th.an these is his
Kcihdblid dhe-Mtidddijc, "the Book of Directions " or "Nomocanon,"
which is for the Jacobite Church what the Kiinndshd dhi-KdnonS
of 'Ablul-isho' is for the Ncstorian, both in ecclesiastical and secular
matters.'" To us Europeans the historical writings of Bar-Hcbr,-i;U3
surpass in intei-est.aiid value everything else that he has written.
He planned and executed a Universal History in three parts." Part
i. contains the political History of the World from the creation down'
to his own times.-' Part ii. is the history of the church from Aaron
downwards,' the treatment being exceedingly brief till wc reach tho
post-apostolic jieriod, when it becomes a history of the patriarchs
of ihe chi ich of Antioch, and finally, after tlie age of Scvcrus, of
the patriarchs of the Jlonophysito br.mch of that church down to
the year 1283. The meagre continuation by a later hand reaches
to 1495. P.trt iii. offers us the history of the Eastern division of
'the Syrian Clmrch from St Thomas the apostle onwards. From
tho time of Mrautlia (629) it becomes the history of the Mono-
physite maphii.TUS of Taghrith, though a record is always. carefully
kept of the catholic patriarchs of tho JTcstovians. .It closes with
the year 1286, but there is a continuation by Bar-Hebra-us's brother
Bar-sauina to 1288, and thence by another writer to 1496.'' ■ In tho
last years of his life, at the rcipicst of some Muslim fricuds.in Maia-
tliis work— Cod. Vat. clxx., cclxxxii.; Palat. Jtcdic. xxi i.; BoUl. Hunt. 1 : Bilt.
Mus. Add. 71S0, 215S0, 23590 ; Bcilin, Alt Beat 11, Sachaa 134 ; GoUiuscu,
Ori.:nt ISa ; Cambiid~e, colh of the S.P.C.K.
-r B.O., ii. 2S4. >ISS.— Cod. Vat clxviii.; Paris, Anc. fondsl21 ; Cambridge,
coll. of the S.P.C.K. This work has been translated into Arabic- Paris, Anc.
fonds 128 ; Brit Musi ISiOO ; Bodl. Uunt 48 ; Berlin, Saclwu SI ; C.-imbriil;,-)",
coU. of the S.P.C.K. Mr R. J. H. Gottheil has recently litlio.^raj.hed, "for
private cii-culation only," a small portion of this work, viz., basis ii., ch. iii.
sect. 3, i>aiagr. 6, on plants (20 pp. of text, 8 pp. of picfacc); the title is A list
0/ Plants and tlteir Projo tics from the il^nuntlfi Kud'>h ofCrfgorins Ixtr' ElAlxiyd
cdilci) hy ntchard J. II. Oolthcil, D.A.
=8 /!.0.,ii. 297. MS3.-Cod. Vat clxix.; Bodl. Or. 407. Hunt 521 ; Paris,Allc,
fonds 129, Suppl.i»; BnU Mus. Or. 1017 ; beilio, Saclina £5; Caiiibiiilge, coU.
of the S.P.C.K.
23 MSS.— Cod. Vat clxxi.; Bodl. JIarsh. 081, Hunt 490; Brit .Mus. Add.
7194, 71W ; Paris, Aiic fouds 122, Suppl. 75. There are two Arabic translations
of this work ; see Zoteiiberg, Cnlal., p. 201, No. 247.
39 Bodl. Hunt. 1 ; Cambridge, coll. of the S.P.C.K. There is an Arabic
hanslation, Paris, Anc. funds 120, 145 (ff. 292-290).
31 Probably a -production of Stephen b.-ir Sudh-aile ; sec Brit Jtiis. Add. 7IS9,
where -we have tlie commentary of Theodosius, patriarch of Aiitiocli, and com-
pare Frothingham, Slephen bar SudaiU, p. 87 S'j. See also .a-bove, p. i^:!
35 Brit 5Ius. Oi. 1017. Other JISS.— Paris, Anc. fonds 138 ; Berlin, SacliaTl
206. The work seems to hare been translated into Arabic (see Zotciiberg,
Calal., p. 176). 3? B.O., ii. 275. 34 jua., ii. 27o , Cod. Vat clxx:::.
35 See Cod. Vat Iii.; Palis, Anc. fonds 97 ; Jlcdic. Palat xliv.
ai B.O., ii. 299.. P.eiidered into Latin by J. A. Assemani in Mai, SrriptL Veil.
Kova Coll., X. MSS.— Cod. Vat cxxxii., ccclvL.vii., ccclviii..ix.; Bodl. Hunt 1 ;
Paris, Auc. fonds 140 ; Berlin, Alt Best 40 ; Palat Meilic. Ixi. It has been
translated into Arabic. . 37 n.o., ii. 311.
35 This has been edited- under the title of Bar-Ilcbrxl CUronieott Syriaciim by
Bruns and Kirsch, with a Latin translation, in two volumes, 17S9.>* Both text
and translation are equally bad, and the ivork deserves ,a new edition.
39 Parts ii. and iii., which supplied Assemani with the greatest part of the
materials for the second volume of his Bibt. Oricntalis, have been edited by
Abbeloos and Lamy in three volumes, viz., part ii. in two volumes, 1672.74,
and part iii. in one volume, 1S77, accoiiipaiiied by a Latin translation and
notes, it might be advantageously repriiitea, if revised l.y a competent Jiatid.
■ MSS. of the entire history are— Cod. Vat clxvi.,ccclxxxlii .viii ; Bo.ll Hunt 1 ;
Palat Medic, cxviii. Part i. is contained in Cod. Vat clxvii. and Bodl. Hunt
52; parts ih and iii. in Biit Mus. Wd. 7198 .and Cambrid^-eDd. 3,8, 1, as also in
the coll. of the S.P.C.K. Whether the Berlin MS., Saehau 210, contains the
entire work or only a part of it -.;e do not know; it is simply described as
"Clironik des Bar Hebr.jeus,"_. There are excerpts in CoJ. Vat clxxiiL
SYRIAC LITERATURE.
14lH CENT.]
ghah, he-unJertook to make a recension in Arabic of the iiolitical
Sistory, -nluch he all but. tinislied within the space -of one month
before his last illness came on.' This edition is enriched -with many
references to Muhammadan -nriters and literature which are wanting
in the Syriac. It is entitled al-.Uukhtasar.fi 'd-Dutml, or "Com-
pendious History of the D}-nasties." ^ As a poet Bar-HebrKus is
admired by his couutrj-men, and even Renan' has thought the poem
on the theme Bona Lex sed Melior Philosophia to be worthy of publi-
cation.' Some of the poems were bad.ly edited and translated by
Ton Leffgerke in 1 836-38 according to the Paris M.S. Ancien fonds
130 ; others have been published by the Jiaronite prics{ Augustinus
Scebabi (t^C^J') at Rome, 1877. The Carmen de Divina Sapi-
eniia was brought out so long ago as 1633 by Gabriel Sionita,
and has been' republished at Rome in 1880 by Yohanna Notayu
Darauni ( j_}CjjJl j^lai ^yj-* In 'his youth Bar-Hcbra:us wrote
a book on the interpretation o{ dreams: pvs?ishdk hchiie' ; and in his
later years he made a collection of entertaining and humorous stoiies
in Syriac, entitled ICithdbha dlt^- Thunnayc JUHgliahhlkhdiiC; with au
Arabic counterpart under the title of I>a/' al-IIamm (j^i !Oi),
"the Driving away of Care."^ The contents of the Tunndyi are,
however, more varied than the title seems to promise, as -may be
seen-fi'om Assemani's enumeration of the chapters, B.O., ii. 300.'
Contemporary with Bar-Hebroeus, though some\Ybat younger, we
may place Daniel bar Khattab, to whom Assemani has devoted two
articles in the B. 0., ii., at pp. 244 and 463. Among the poems of
Bar-Hcbra!us we find verses addressed to this Daniel by the Mestorian
Khamis bar Kardalie with his reply and another by Bar-Hcljrseus.'
He. composed abridgements in Arabic of several of Bar-Hebrceus's
works, e.g., the jYomocrtnoii," Ethics, Ausar Rdze, Miitdrath Kiidh-
ski, KHhdbhd dhi-Bhdhhdthd, and the larger grammar.'" An inde-
pendent work of his, also in Arabic, treats of The Buses, qr First
Principles, of Ihe-Faith and Consolation of the Hearts of Belif.vcrs.^'^
AVith Dauiel bar Khattab we may close our list of Jacobite writers
in the literature of Syria. The Kestorians kept the lamp burning
for a little, Ihough not much longer, as we shall presently see. . .
Shelemon, or Solomon, of Khilat or Akhlaf, on* the shores of
Lake Van, was present as metropolitan. of Perath de-JIaishfm or
al-Basrah at the consecration of the catholicus Sabhr-jsho' in 1222.'-
Besides some prayers and short discourses (rnemrone), h(J wrote a
treatise on the figure of the heavens and the earth," and compiled
a volume of analecta, piirtly' theological, . partly historical, which
he entitled KUhabhd dhe-DhehborUhd or " the Bep." It is dedicated
to his friend Narsai, bishop of Klioni-Shabhor or Beth 'Wazik,
called by the Arabs al-BawazIg or al-Bawazij," on the lesser Zab.
Of this work an analysis has been given by Asseniani in the B.O.,
iii. 1, 309-324, and. there is a German translation of it by SchJin-
felder,- 1866.' It has been recently edited by Mr E. A. W. Budge,
of the British Museum, with an English translation, Oxford, 1886.'^
• This was an age of song with the Nestorians, in which lived some
of their favourite writers of h\-mns. (1) One of the most conspicu-
ous of these is George Warda (the Rose) of Arbcl or Irbil, whose
poems have entered so largely into the use of the Kestorian Church-
that one of their service books is to this day called the JFardd.'^
His date may be gathered from certain of his hymns, which speak
of the calamities of the years 1535-38 = 1224-27 A.D.", (2) About
the same time flourished Mas'ud of the family Beth Kashsha (in'
Arabic Ibn al-lvaSs), who was physician (iMl-lm) to the caliph al-
Wusta'sim (1242-58), and outlived his patron.'' One of his-poejns
1 Z(.0.,ii. 264.
2 Edited by Pocoek, with a Latin translation, in 1663. JISS.— Coil-. Vat clxvii.;
Brit. Mu». Add. 6944, C9i2, 1, 23304-5 ; Bodl. Pocock 64, 102 ; Palat. Medic, cxvli.
8 £>c Philot. I'et imt. ap. Syros, p. 67.
« B.O., ii. 308. MSS.— Cod. Vat. clxxtv.-, Bodl. Ilunt. i; Marsh, 201 r Paris,
Anc. fonds 118, 130, 157; Pa1at..Medic. Ixii. (Catal, p. 110); sec also Cod. Vat.
cccexxii.; Bodl. Poc. 298 ; Berlin, Alt. Best. 41, 2, 3, and Sachau CI, 4.0.
» B.O., ii. 271, No. 20. 6 Ibid., ii. 2CS, note, col. 2, No. 31 ; p. 272, note 1.
855
7 Boo a few short specimens iq Kirsch and Bernstein's Chrfst. Syr., pp. 1-4,
*d In an article by L. Monies in the Z.D.M.G., xl. p. 410 sn. MSS.— Cod. Vat.
clxxiii.; Ind. Off. N'o. 9, "Tracts in Syriac," fr.'3SI-413. Ths Dof ol-lhmm
is contained in P.iris, Anc. fonds 160> The catalofrue " of Bar-Ilrbra-ns's
work!? in D.O., ii. 203. note, odds one Arabic book to this, long list^coV 1, No.
19, at the fool) of wliich wo know nothing but the title there ^vcn iu SjTiac,
KHhdtihd dhl'lknyi^n Yulhroni, *'0n the Pleasure of Gain.''
a Payne Smith, Calal.. p. 377 ; Catal. Vol.. iii. 358.
» B.O., ii. 463 ; Co<l. Vat. Aiab. dcxxxvj. (Mai, Scrtptt. VcU. Xovf Coll., Iv. 57^
'» B.O., ti. 404.
ft Ibid., ii. 244 ; Cod. V.it, Ar.ib. Uxiv. Otal. op. ell., iv. 153).
*'B.O., ii. 453, -Xo. 75 ; Bar-IIebmiHS, CAroil. Ecc'n., II. 871.
U B.O., Iii. 1, 310. » See lloirmann, Autziifie, pp. 189 and JS16.
. IB MSS— Coil. Vat. clxivl., clxx\l. ; Brit. Mus. Add. 25875 ; RAS, Add. 7(1 ;
Mdnjch, Cod. S>T. 7 (with an Arabic translation). Bodl. Pocock 79 ami Paris,
Anc. fonds 113, contain only an Arabic translation, different from that in
the Munich M«.
10 Badger, The Kestorinns, II. 25. A few specimens Ri'o gircti by CardJSl.iI In
the Liber Tlifs/uiri, p. 51. Badger ha^ trnnnlated one. op. c!f., pp. 61-. 57.
■'.' Cdlal. rn(., Iii. 391, at tlie top. Important MSS. of WnrdiVs hymns are
Coit. Vat. clXNxiv. ; Berlin, All. Best. 24, Sachau 138 ; tJimbnd^c, coll. of the
'9 L'.O.,lil.l.601:Bar-ncblliU9iffW.i)l/nas/:.pr.5t;S23(rra:n!..'pp 841-345).
for the feast of the Epiphany occurs in Cod. Vat. clxxiiv. (Catal.
iii. p. SSO).** (3) Khamis bar Kardihe of Arbel wa6 a youn"er
contemporary of Ba.--Hebra:us, as appears from his coiTesponJence
with Daniel bar Khattab (see above). He too has bequeathed hi^
name to one of the Ncstoiian service books, which is still calleil
the AVwrniis.'" (4) GabrielKanisa (the Locust) was a monk of Beth-,
Kiika. He bccwne metropolitan of Mosul, and was present at the
consecration of Yabh-aliha III. in 1281.^ There is a long poem
of his in Cod. Vat. cl.xxx. [Qatal., iii. 376), treating of the creation,
the incarnation, the life of our Saviour, the preaching of the apostlc!,
and the praises of the fathers of the, church, and concluding wi-.h
an encomium on Sabhr-ishO', the founder oT Beth-Kuka. (5) John
of Mosul was a monk of the convent of St Michael near that city. ■-'
His work entitled Kithdbhd dhS-Shapplr Dubbdre was published
at Rome in 1868 by E. J. Millos, archbishop of 'Akra, as a schocl-
book, under the title of Dlrcctorium Spiritualc. It is, of course,
impossible to say -to what extent the original has been tampered
with in such an edition, but there is a SIS. in the Biit. Mils. Or.
2450.2' The composition of the work is placed by Millos in 1245,
and the death of the author by Cardfdu (Lib. Thcs., p. 120) in 1270.
"Abhd-isho' bar Berikha holds nearly the same position In regard
to the Nestoriati Church that Bar-Hcbrsus does in relation to the
Jacobite, though far inferior in talent and learning to "the Son of
the Hebrew.". He flourished under Yabh-alaha III., being firstly
bishop of Shiggnr (Sinjar) and Bc-th-'Arbriye about 1285," and after-
wards, before 1291,^ metropolitan of Kisibis and Armenia. He
died in 1318.-'' He.has left us a list of his o\vn publications at the
end of the Catalogus Librorum, in the B.O., Hi. 1,S25 sj. Several
of these seem to be lost, — at least they do not appear in the cata-
lo^es of our collections.;— such as the commentary on the Old and
Kew Testaments,-' the Kethdbha Katholikos on the marvellous dis-
pensation or life of our Lord on earth,"* the Kithdbhd Sholastikos,
against all the heresies,-" the book of the mysteries of the Greek
philosophers,'" the twelve discourses comprising aU the sciences,"'
and the ecclesiastical decisions and canons,'- as also an Ar.ibic work
with the title Shah-marwdrtd oi ''the King-pearl."'' The J/cir-
gd-nXthd or "Pearl" is a theological work in five sections, treating
of God, the creation, the Christian dispensation, the sacraments
of the church, and the things that prefigure the world to come.
There is a careful analysis of its contents in B.O., iii. 1, 352-360i
It has been edited, with a Latin translation, in ilai, Scriptt. Vctt.
Nova Coll., X., and done into English by Badger, The Ncstorians,
ii. 3S0 sy. The date of composition is 1208." 'Abhd-isho' himself
translated this work into Arabic in 1312, as we learn from 'Amr
ibn Matta in the Majdal, where large portions of it are quoted."
The Collection of Si/nodical Canons or Komocanon is al^o fullif
analysed by Assemani, B.O., iii. 1, 332-351." If has been edited,
with a Latin translation, in Mai, Scriptt. Veil. Nova CoU., x.'* As
a poet 'Abh-d-isho' does not shine according to oar ideas, although,
his countrymen admire his verses ^eatly. Kot only is ho obscure
in vocabulary and style, but he has adopted and even exaggerated
all the worst faults of Arabic writers of rimed, prose and scribblers
of verse." His principal effort in poetry is the Paradise of Eden,
a collection of fifty poems on theological subjects, which has been
analysed by Assemani, TJ.O., iii. 1, 325-332.'^ This volume was pub-
lished by the author in 1291, and in 1316 he found that it was
necessary to add an explanatory commentary." Another collection
of twenty-two poems, which may be regarded as parts of one com-
position, treating of the love of wisdom and knowledge, is found
in Cod. Vat. clxxiv. (Catal, iii. 359) and JRodl. Marsh. 201 (P.
Smith, Catal., p. 510) ; and a third, including the above and a
selection from the Paradise, is contained in Bodl. Marsh., 361."
Of his minor works, enumerated in the B.C., iii. 1, 331, tho con-
solatory discourses, tho letters, and the commentary on tho epistlo
of Aristotle to Alexander concerning the great art (alchemy) seem
19 .See Cardahl, Uher Thcsunri, pp. 125-128.
20 B.idger, Tiic AVstoriiiiis Ii. "I ; fee oiin of his poems translated, pp. 38 49.
Cardahl gives some spceiiiieiii in l.i''"r Th'*i^i'r'. fn. 59-f'? ^ Imrv^-rtsnt MSS.
of ilia poems are— Cod. Vat. ci: ' -.^ ^ ... j
Orient 2301 ; BerlinI Sachau I .
l;',OOatthecnd. Berlin-, S.irh:ir i
"by KhainlH and later p'
21 7f.0.,ii. 450. Car<l ;pp,IOMlS.
K CardSIJ (iiler 3Vu ." _.,, ,
23 The most reverend e.iii.r mw ........ v tlio Protaj-fi
(Protestants), who bclievo in nothing- i-.
' =4 ij.a, i. 539. • . '•,'-!;,"'■-;•,, ;«.,
20 Ibid., 1. .539; lit. 1,3 rotes 2,3,3... I,.- .. • •■!. >.'-'■. ^}'\,Mt.
5S Id., p. SCO. M-Id., ibid. »' Id., ibxd. " Id., ttul.
33 Perhaps only an Arabic recension or abriilgeiiicnt of the flfar>;a..,l,HiS.
34 MSS.— Cod. Vafc clxiv.-vi.. cccclvl. ; HAS. Add. 7« ; Boilln, Sachau 4, 3U ;
Cn-rabridge, coll. of theS.P.C.K. . ■, j „ . „ . , ,„
3» B.O., III. 1, SCO, nol« 4 ; SCO Coil. Vat Ixv., ccoTil., and Coo. Vat Anm
ex. (Mai, Scriplt. Veil. Kam C;" "• V ■■'■<"]nn D.O., III. 1, 689.
31! MSS.— Cod. Val. cxivili..
37 R,.e Pavne Smith's nilnul .n hla Co/ni., p. 653 »y.
S8 MSS.-Cml. Vat. ecxlv.,c, , Anc. fond. ICO; ncrlln, Alt. Be»0
4), 1, Sachau 1,51, 80 ;Brlt.Mu».Ucieiit. 4! .ii/i-J; Cambridge, CPU. of Uio 8. r.uk.
89 11.0., III., 1, 327, col. 2. . ■, .^ , .
40 Payne Smith, CaSiil., p. 523; see also p. .Ml^Noa. 80, 81., In Paris. Anc.
fonds 104, thcro Is a poem explanatory of tlic rccleslaitlcal calendar (ZoUubos,
Itlal.. p. 128).
856
S Y Z — S Z O
to be lost. The turgamc are collected in a >tS. at Berlin, Alter
Bcstand 41, 4. His commentary on an enigmatical poem of Simeon
Shankel.wi we have already mentioned (sceabove, p. 852). To us
his most useful work deci'dcJly is the Cntnlor/ue of Books, wliich
forms the basis of vol. iii. part 1 of Assomani's Bihl. Orient. There
is an older edition of it by Abraham Ecchellcnsis, Rome, 1653. It
has been translated into English by Badger.' The CataUjuc con-
sists of four parts, viz., (1) the Scriptures of the Old Testament,
with sundry apocryjiha, B.O., iii. 1, 5 ; (2) the Scriptures of the
New Testament, p. 8 ; (3) the Greek fathers who were translated
into Syriac, \\ 13 ; (4) the Syriac fathers, chiefly, of co-jrse, of the
Ncstorian Church, pp. 65-362. It is to be regretted that 'Abhd-
isho' contented himself mevely with enumerating tlie titles of
' The A'csloriaiis, ii. 361. Badger ascribes tlie work to tl.e year
1293, probably on the authority of liis JIS.
books, and never thought it worth his while to give the date of
th.e writers, lior even to aiTange bis notices in any kind of chrono-
logical order.'
After 'Abhd-isho' there are hardly anj- names among the Nes-
toriaus worthy of a place in the literary history of the Syrian
nation. "We may make an exception in favour of the catholicus
Timothy II., who was elected in succession to Yabh-alaha III. in Tin><
1313, having previously been metropolitan of Mosul and Irbil IT.
under the name of Joseph.' He wrote a work on the sacraments
of the church, of which Assemani has givcji an analysis in B.O.,
iii. Ij 572-580.* His death took place in 1323. (\V. W*.)
' JI33.— Cod. W.. cL-cxvi. ; RAS. Add. 76 (imperfect); Rome, Bibl.
Vitt. Eman. A. 1 1 9 J, MS3. Sessor. 1 62 ; Cambriilse, coll. of the S. P. C. K.
' iJ.O.,iii. i, 567. * V.-it. cii.
SYZRAN, a district town of Russia, in the government
of Simbirsk, lies 90 miles to the south of Simbir.sk, a few
miles from the Volga. It originated in a fort, erected in
16S3, to protect the district from Tatars and Circassians.
Most of its inhabitants (2-i,500 in 1882) are engaged in
gardening and tillage. In the large villages of the sur-
rounding district, one of the richest in Simbirsk, various
petty trades are carried on. Syzran has long been in
repute for its tanneries and manufactures of leather
(£20,000 annually). Several flour-mills and other manu-
factures have recently sprung up. The town is connected
by rail -with Penza and JMorshansk in the west, and with
Orenburg in the cast, and much grain is exported; timber
is brought from the upper Volga, and manufactured wares
from Kijni-Novgorod. In 1882 the goods shipped from
Syzran and Batraki (a port on the Volga) were valued at
£153,540. In the same year the grain and other wares
sent by rail exceeded one million cwts. Syzran is a badly
built town, most of the houses being of wood.
SZABADKA (German, 2fana-Theresiopel), a royal free
town of Hungary, in the county of BAcs, on Lake Palics,
in 46° 8' N. lat. and 19° 42' E. long. It is the centre of an
immense agricultural district and has little claim to special
distinction. There are a chamber of advocates, an upper
gymnasium, a state training institute for governesses, and
an industrial and commercial school. The population
(61,387 in 1880) was about 63,500 in 1885, mostly Hun-
garians, but partly BunyevAczs (a branch of Servians).
SZARVAS, a town of Hungary, on the Koros, in tne
county of Bekes, is a place noted for the wealth of its
peasantry and the excellence of its breed of horses. The
population was 22,504 in 1880, and about 24,000 in 1885,
chiefly Slovaks, but all Speaking Hungarian.
SZATJIAR-NIlMETI, a royal free town of Hungary, in
the county of SzatmAr, is situated on the river Szamos and
the Hungarian North-Eastern Railway, in 47° 49' N. lat.
and 22° 51' E. long. It is the seat of a Roman Catholic
bishop and has a seminary, a male and female normal
school, and several Government offices. The town has a
considerable trade in wine and wood. The population num-
bered 19,708 in 1880, and. about 22,000 in 1885. They
are mostly ^Magyars, and by religion Romanists, Pro-
testants, and Greeks in almost equal proportions.
SZEGEDIN, a royal free city of Hungary, second
only to Budapest, is situated on both banks of the Th'eiss
at the influx of the Maros, in 46° 16' N. lat. and 20° 10' E.
long., in the county of Csongrad. It is a great centre of
the commerce and agriculture of the Alfold, has a Roman
Catholic gymnasium, a state real school, and a horary
with about 80,000 volumes. There are a Franciscan, a
Piarist, and a Jlinorite convent, and a large hospital, as
well as various Government offices, a superior law court,
and a chamber of advocates. The inner town consists of
fine broad streets and large squares adorned with many
palatial edifices, but the .suburbs, inhabited by the peas-
antrji, are little superior to ordinary Hungarian villages^
The river is spanned by a railway bridge of stone and a
fine suspension bridge. Szegedin possesses factories of
soap, soda, matches, candles, leather, and spirits, steam
and saw mills, and salt and tobacco magazines. It is
the chief seat of the manufacture of paprika (a kind of
pepsicum) and of a pastry tarhonya, both largely exported
to all parts of the world. During the summer the ship-
ping trade is very brisk, especially in corn and timber.
Szegedin is an important station on the Alfold-Fiume and
the Austrian-Hungarian State Railways, and is a terminus
of the Arad-CsanAd Railway. The inhabitants in 1880
numbered 73,675, and in 1885 76,600 (estimated), en-
tirely Magyars.
Since the 15th century Szegedin has been one of the most promi-
nent cities in Hungary. From 1526 till 16S6 it was in possession
of the Turks, who Ibrtified it. It is also notorious for its many
witchcraft trials. In 1843 it sent strong detachments to tho
national Hungarian army. In July 1849 the scat of the Govern-
ment was transferred hither for a short time. In March 1879 tho
town was almost completely destroyed by an inundation. In tho
reconstruction the site of the old fortress was laid out as a public
garden.
SZEXTES, a market town of Hungary, in the county of
CsongrAd, on the left bank of the Theiss, 30 miles north of
Szegedin. It has a county-hall (1885) and a promenade.
The inhabitants are chiefly eniployed in agriculture, in
breeding geese, and in fishing. The population (28,712 in
1880) numbered about 30,000 in 1885, all Magyars.
SZIGET {^Jdrr,iaros-S:iget), chief town of the county
of Mirmaros in the north-east of Hungary, is the centre
of a salt-mining district, with mining and forestry head
departments. The town lies in a valley which abounds in
picturesque scenery and is rich in mineral springs. It has
a county-hall, Protestant and Catholic gymnasia, a convent,
a nunnery, and a training-school for teachers. The popu-
lation (10,852 in 1880) w^as about 11,200 in 1885.
SZOLNOK, the capital of the county of JAsz-Nagy-
Kun-Szolnok, Hungary, is situated on the Theiss and the
Zagyva, and is the junction of four railways. It carries
on a brisk trade in tobacco, salt, and especially in wood.
In 1860 the population (Magyars), chiefly Roman Catho-
lics, numbered 18,247, and in 1885 about 19,000.
EXD OF VOLUME rWEXTY-SECONTI.
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